#im not that good at writing papers either but at least i try. but his part is just absurd.

[officialkendallroy]

i cannot wait for monday. no more uni group projects. I WILL BE FREE

[thinkinonsense]

old!logan and his obsession with the cute diner girl *mdni

a/n: this is my first attempt at writing something smutty so if it sucks im sorry lmao also if any writers have any tips please share! :)

logan has been around for long enough to know when a woman is attracted to him. there was a certain essence given off that was always a dead giveaway. usually it came from women close to the age he looked like and it tended to be brief moments of lust before all hope was lost. this was until he met you.

the pretty young girl working at the diner during her time off from college. everyday, he came in and ordered a black coffee. the coffee wasn't even that good but logan would spend two dollars every single day of his life if it came with the view of you bending over in that tiny uniform skirt.

logan would watch you for hours while he drank and skimmed the news paper alone in a booth. your hair was always up in either a ponytail or held together with a hair clip. he loved seeing your pretty handwriting as you scribbled on your notepad, taking orders. it was part of your job to be nice to everyone but you were especially nice to him. even your friends began to notice how you would linger by his table, constantly topping off his coffee mug and making small talk; sometimes giving him a slice of cherry pie on the house.

"don't you think he's kinda old for you?" one of your friends whispers to you behind the counter.

it's stung but you suppose she had a point. what would a man old enough to be your father want with a young wild girl like yourself?

"i-i guess so?" you stuttered, embarrassed at your previous attempt at flirting with him.

the rest of the night, you hoped he would leave before close so you could have some time alone with your feelings. summer was almost over and you would go back to the city soon. it was time to forget these silly fantasizes.

by ten, all the other waitresses went home except you, the older woman in the back who counted the drawer every night, and a few of the cooks. the only customer still there was logan. he flipped through one of the books he brought with him; still sipping away at that damn coffee.

"isn't it getting a little late for you, sweetheart?" he asked nonchalantly, not even looking up at you as you bent over to scrub the table next to his. the fifth table you've cleaned in the last hour and the second time you've cleaned that specific table. logan noticed but you didn't.

"need the hours." you mumble, frustrated by a stubborn stain. all logan could focus on was your scrunched nose and how your tight top pushed your boobs together just right for his viewing. "college is fucking expensive plus grants and scholarships only cover so much."

"hmm.." logan grunts. grants? scholarship? what a goody fucking two shoes, logan thought to himself. "if you bring me piece of pie, i think i can help you out."

you lean off the table and go get what's left in the glass container. it's probably a little hard so you definitely didn't plan on charging him for it. you sit the plate down in front of him and before you could turn around to walk away, logan reaches for your wrist softly.

"join me." he offers.

you knew you shouldn't but what was really the harm? at least your friends weren't here to make fun of you. the radio played quietly on an older station while you watched logan take a bite of the pie.

"why did your friends leave you here alone?" he asked, watching your face turn sour at the memory of them.

"don't wanna talk about it." your voice was small in the empty diner.

"why? think an old man like me can't relate to it?" logan chuckles. your thighs squeeze together without thinking. so much for not embarrassing yourself.

"no, no, not that." you shake your head and a strand of hair falls from your bun. "just sort of juvenile, you know?"

logan could tell that you were trying to come off more mature around him. you didn't want him to see you as some college kid.

"juvenile, how?" he eggs on, pushing down his glasses a bit.

god, those glasses got to you; and logan knew it.

"they don't understand how i feel about someone." you sigh.

"how do you feel about this person?" logan noticed you now avoiding his gaze, not liking it one bit. "eyes on me, princess."

the nickname caught you off guard like a dear in headlight; blinking and trembling up at logan. something logan enjoyed very much and could get used to.

"it's not important, just some stupid crush." you lie through your teeth. "they will forget about me in a month."

"why don't you think it'll work?" he cocks his head to the side a bit. "you're a pretty young thing, dollface. anyone of those college boys would be lucky to be wrapped around your little finger."

"i don't want college boys." you mumble, slightly annoyed by the memory of your friends.

logan felt himself getting hard at you admitting you had a taste for someone older. his eyes grew dark as he leaned in a little over the table.

"then what do you want?"

your moment to answer was interrupted by the older woman from the back, releasing you to go home for the evening. this was your chance to get up and leave before you admitted anything else that you would regret.

both of you stood up. logan threw down some cash while you went to collect your stuff behind the counter.

"i'll see you tomorrow, lo-"

"you didn't answer the question."

"i must go now if i want to catch the last train."

logan worried about you taking the train back to your apartment alone this late at night. usually you drive back but your car has been in the shop for almost three days now. he would watch you get to your car every night to make sure you were safe.

"i can drive you home." logan offers.

you shouldn't be this excited to be sitting in a strangers truck alone at night but here you were. the two of you sat in silence for a few minutes before logan brought up the conversation from the diner again. what did you even want?

"i want someone who understands me..." you begin rattling off the first things that come to mind when you notice logan's hand on your knee. you don't dare move.

"someone who is responsible..." with every word, his hand creeps higher and higher up your skirt. logan is more than pleased when he notices your legs spread on their own.

"someone who is m-mature..." logan's fingers inch towards the delicate skin of your inner thigh. there's no way this was happening, you thought as his index finger plays with the lace on the center of your pink underwear. he smirked at the wet spot front and center, waiting for him.

"treats me r-r-right." every word was a struggle to form as he stroked you softly. back and forth. back and forth.

logan nods along, not letting up down below. his index finger hooks onto your underwear, pulling it aside. you weren't even sure if you were breathing at this point; all this teasing was torture.

"p-p-please, logan..." you whine. "touch me."

his thumb rubs tiny circles on your button, adoring the way his name pours from your glossy lips. your hands fly to his wrists, needing more; nails digging into his skin in the most delicious way.

"where did this greediness come from?" logan groans, dipping his index finger inside of you. "what happened to that good girl from the diner?"

logan's finger barely fit in the tight space. your head fell back and a loud moan escaped you.

"oh, you weren't letting those college boys touch you at all, huh?" logan mocks, adding another finger and creating a steady pace.

"n-no!" you whine, lifting your hips a little.

"you were waiting for a real man to have his way with you, isn't that right, pretty girl?" he growls, pushing your hips back down.

you completely missed logan pulling off to the side of the road until now. his pace increases becoming rather rough now that he isn't driving. logan leaves deep purple bruises down your neck and across your chest, praising you to no end until you gush around his fingers, completely soaking his palm.

your heart pounded like you had just finished a marathon. logan allowed you to catch your breath as he carefully removed his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth to lick clean. he can feel your dazy eyes staring at him as he does so, making a real show of it.

"i've been wanting to do that for months now." he admits with a smirk.

"me too." you said, leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss; tasting yourself on his lips and tongue. logan wraps his hands around your hair, pulling you back a little when another moan falls from your lips.

"and we aren't even close to being done."

[agirlwithglam]

🎀 The It Girl Lifestyle Guide 🎀

hi girlies! this guide is a part of the big series: The Ultimate It-Girlism Guide. in this mini guide i'll be including all things health, morning/nighttime routines, and more!

How to create your ideal morning / night / any other routine:

Here’s a mini step by step guide to curating a routine that works specifically for YOU, tailored to your own needs and wants. This can be for any routine u wanna create: morning, night, after school, after work, before school/ work, etc etc.

Apps / things needed:

ChatGPT (or an AI like that- it’s not completely necessary but it’s useful)

Notes app / docs app. (Or a pen and paper- this will be to write down the routine!)

Calendar app (optional tbh)

Ok so first off: decide what you want in your routine. Make a list in no particular order of what you need/ want in the routine.

Some examples:

Once you’ve created this list, you’re pretty much half way done. In this next part you can use chat GPT to make it easier, or use your own mind.

The next thing to do is: ask chatGPT to make a routine with the steps u wanted.

Make sure to mention what time your routine starts and ends. And if there’s anything you want to change, you can just ask the AI or make those changes yourself!

The last step is to write it down!

You can either write it down on the notes app, docs, on a journal/ piece of paper, anything that’s easily accessible to you. I heavily recommend writing it down somewhere, but if you dont want to you can…

Put it into your calander. This can help you be a bit more organised, but it’s not completely needed. As long as it’s written down somewhere- so you dont need to always remember it- you’re good.

Health and wellness

In this section, i will be talking about fitness, mental health and physical health. I will mention some useful tips to finally start, how to overcome procrastination, and how to take care of that area of your body.

1. FITNESS.

Numero uno: fitness! I’m not going to go yapping on about how fitness is so important- im assuming you all know that by now. But let me just remind you that staying fit is not only exercising or going to the gym everyday. It can be: running, going for a walk, playing a sport, yoga, pilates, dancing, cycling, and THE LIST GOES ON. DO anything that moves your body and gets you fit!

Here are some tips to help you get started:

Start small. Set small goals first. Set SMART goals

Choose the activities you enjoy. Like i mentioned earlier, there’s tons of ways to stay fit- cycling, running, swimming, yoga, dance, sports, etc. etc. (if you like, joining a class or working out with friends can help you stay motivated!)

Stay consistent. I know i know, this is said everywhere. But there is no progress without consistency. Even if you can’t do a whole workout one day, try and do 10 jumping jacks, or 5 pushups. Do whatever you can. Remember: 1% is better than 0.

Create a vision board. You can create one yourself, or find tons of them off Pinterest. Vision boards will make the process so much more fun and will certainly motivate you.

Set a reward system. Tell yourself: if you do this high intensity workout now, you can go to the spa later or watch tv.

Find a why. This goes for like everything tbh. If your why is big enough, you are capable of doing anything (even finding that lost book that you owe the library!) basically, are you doing this to get ripped? With tons of abs, or to get strong and impress people? Or are you doing this to boost your self esteem and improve your health?

2. FOOD & NUTRITION.

Balanced diet: eat the rainbow! Meaning- eat meals with a variety of different colours. Fruits, vegetables, proteins, carbohydrates, etc. it’s completely alright to eat a chocolate, but remember: EVERYTHING IN MODERATION.

Hydration: aim for at least 8 glasses of water a day. Trust me, drinking the magical potion that is water will help you SO much! It can help you clear your skin, have pink uncrusty lips, keep you fit and soooo much more.

Mindful eating: in the book IKIGAI it is said that you should only eat until you’re 80% full. Not 100%. Why? Because the time it takes for you to digest the food will have already made you extremely full. You may even have a stomachache. Studies also show that cutting back on calories can lead to better heart health, longevity, and weight loss.

Here are some tips to manage cravings:

Find healthier alternatives. If you are craving something sweet like chocolate, have something like a sweet fruit. If you crave something salty, try nuts. If you can’t think of any, search up some healthier alternatives to it!

Create more friction for junk, and less friction for healthy. This concept was said in the book Atomic Habits by James Clear. What does it mean? Make sure that it takes a lot of energy to get the unhealthy junk food. Maybe keep them high up in a cupboard so whenever you want it you have to go get a ladder, climb up, and then get it. And keep the healthy food in easy reach. Like some fruits open on a table, etc. (also remember to keep some actually yummy healthy food like Greek yogurt or protein bars.)

Distract yourself. Go do a workout or engage your mind in a hobby that you enjoy. Basically take your mind off food.

Yummy water. Make some lemonade for yourself. Or perhaps add slices of lemon, cucumber, mint or strawberries to it for some flavours. I’d do some research on this cus i know that some combos can rly help for things like clearing your skin, boosting energy, etc.

3. MENTAL HEALTH

Taking care of your mental health is just as important as taking care of your physical health. It affects how we think, feel and act and also determines how we handle stress, relate to others, relationships, etc.

Of course there will be ups and downs for our mental health. It’s not something that you can just fix once and it’ll be good forever. No, it’s a rollercoaster. But having a “good” mental health is really important for a successful lifestyle.

Here are some tips to help you improve your mental health:

Meditation / deep breathing. I can’t emphasise how important this is. Even 1-2 minutes a day is good. Start small. You dont even need to be sitting crossed legged for this. Whether you’re in class, on a vehicle or in a stressful situation; just breathe. Take a deep breath, and out. Do it right now.

Journalling. Write. It. Out. Writing your problems and worries out is SOO therapeutic, especially when you want to calm down. There are SO MANY benefits to journalling. But remember that once you’ve ranted on the paper, tear it, rip it, and watch it burn. (Don’t keep a journal for this unless you KNOW 150% that no ones ever gonna read it. Trust me, it’s terrifying knowing that someone’s read that.) other things you can do is create a gratitude journal, so whenever you’re feeling low you can just go to it or write in it.

Self careee!! Create time for self care in your week. Because if you do that, it’s gonna be that one thing which you’ll be looking forward to each week, which will make life SO much more fun and bearable. For me, my forms of self care are watching thewizardliz or tam Kaur, reading, watching a movie at night, etc.

POSITIVE. SELF. TALK. Need i say more? What you say to yourself, is what you believe. And what you believe reflects in your external life.

Sing your heart out to Olivia Rodrigo. I swear this is actually so calming and therapeutic. Basically: express your feelings. If you’re angry at someone, feeling grief or really hurt by someone, screaming to Olivia Rodrigo songs in my bedroom is my go-to (i just make sure not to do it when others can here hehe). You can punch your pillow, scream, cry, etc.

Remember honey: this too will pass. Repeat that over in your head. This will pass. This will pass. This will pass. I know you may be going through the toughest time ever, but this too will pass. Nothing is forever. You’ve gotten through so much worse. You’ve got this.

!! Girls, please remember that these are just some tips. I am NOT a professional. If you really feel horrible every single day, go to therapy or counselling. Also contact mental health hotlines or emergency numbers if needed.

Mkay thats it! I hope this was of some value to you, and stay tuned for the next guide in the it girl series!

[sunahsvt]

—FLOWERS FOR YOU.

kuroo tetsurou x fem!reader

+ angst and fluff, childhood friends to lovers (guess how it ends lmao)

other tags: just mentions of love making (idk im bad at these), small cases, not entirely canon

word count: 2.2k

note: came back from writing after a good 3 years. this is NOT proofread and was written within 6 hours so it's just word vomit TT

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR POST ANYWHERE IN OTHER PLATFORMS

you love receiving flowers.

at first, you thought it was a such a waste of money. this thought rooted from the fact that you're not from a wealthy family. you weren't poor either. middle class, they would say.

you just turned 8 years old when you realized money doesn't grow on trees. when your parents bought you cake, but when your classmates had their birthdays, they would throw princess parties— cake, flowers, toys, and all.

you didn't want to sound ungrateful, so with a smile, you blew the candles and thanked your parents as they hugged you. regardless, you were grateful with what they can give you.

kuroo was the first one to give you flowers— or should you say, a flower. it wasn't a bouquet, but it was, in fact, a flower.

you both just met at a playground. his family just moved in the neighbourhood yesterday, and thanks to the soft chatters of your mom's neighbour friends, you heard he's the same age as you. the shy person you were, you sneaked out of your house to play in hopes you'd meet him there. (you had no idea what he looked like or what his name was.)

you were on the swings. you've been waiting for a solid hour. at 4:30pm, your parents would have realized you weren't in your room. it was almost dark out and dinner would be ready.

at 4:50pm, you decided maybe he has no interest in playing at the park. you were about to get up when a boy with spikey black hair came running towards you. you took a few cautious steps back before he could reach you while you also noticed the rose in his hand.

"hi! im tetsurou!" he exclaimed, attempting to hide the rose behind him. he sure can't hide things, you thought.

"i just moved here," he swiveled his body just to point where his house was. "it's that one with the white roof!"

although you already knew which house he moved to, you were trying your best to look for it from where you stood. he was much taller than you for someone of the same age.

distracted, the rose that he tried his best to hide from you earlier was now right in front of your small face.

"a rose for you!" he said as he smiled so brightly you almost squinted. hesitant and confused, you took the rose from him anyway.

"y/n," you muttered.

"i saw a rose on the way here and thought maybe i could give it to someone," he explained. "you're the only one here so maybe it's destiny!"

a small smile formed on your lips, fidgeting the rose's torns. maybe it is destiny to wait for you for that long. you're careful not to prick yourself.

you played together for a while because at 5:00pm, the sun was already setting and you thought maybe receiving flowers wasn't so bad after all.

since then, you and tetsurou were inseperable.

tetsurou gave you another flower shortly after that. he had surprised you with a small makeshift bouquet with three roses wrapped in colored paper.

unlike last time with smiles and bright energy, he gave it to you in a sheepingly manner while muttering a "happy birthday". he added that he kept a silent promise to himself that'd he'd get you at least two flowers, better than last time.

you smiled, your smile reaching your eyes. he was so proud of himself from your reaction. you also noticed the torns were scrapped off. this made your heart swell even more with joy.

"where have you been getting these though?"

he scratched the back of his head, "you know that garden next to—"

"i knew it!" you laughed. you told him to stop stealing your poor neighbour's garden of roses before he gets caught. that lady had the nastiest attitude, you warned. all he did was pout.

a month later, tetsuro got caught stealing roses from your neighbour's garden, and he never attempted to steal the roses ever again. that lady has a nasty attitude, he went to you right after he was scolded by your parents. you shook your head, trying your best not to laugh and tell him "i told you so."

after that mishap, he decided he'd get creative instead. so the next time he gave you flowers, it was purely made out of colored paper. the kuroo tetsuro, at 9 years old, did arts and crafts all on his own and at his own will at that. it took him a whole month just to finish 12 paper flowers.

"why do you keep giving me flowers?"

"i like you, silly."

at 9 years old, you realized you loved receiving flowers.

if the paper flowers wasn't creative enough, tetsurou had given you flowers made out of all sorts of materials: crepe paper, post-it notes, clay, satin ribbons, pipe cleaners, papers from books (don't worry, not out of his text books), and so much more. all of them were so beautiful.

at 10 years old, he gave you a bouquet of flowers made out of crochet yarn. he even told you it took him months to learn how to crochet, master it, and finish the entire thing. little did he know, whenever you visit his house, you could see the crochet yarns, results of failed attempts of crochet flowers, and crochet tools hidden away in one of his cabinets left slightly ajar. he sure can't hide things, you chuckled to yourself.

flowers of all types made out of all kinds of materials were given to you, and all of them you happily received from tetsurou. until at 15 years old, when he had saved enough money for all the years he had given you diy flowers, he surprised you with a bouquet mixed of all types of real flowers after your first day of high school. this is why you can't seem to have a favourite flower, he noticed that too.

"you sure you don't have a favorite flower?" he asked again.

"i'm really coming out blank," you were carrying yet another bouquet of flowers and crochet coin purse he made, walking home together after his volleyball training. "i love all of them the same."

"how about me?" he teased.

you giggled, "but you already know that i love you!"

"we'll make it official someday," he promised.

you nodded, contented. i may not have a favourite flower, but "just because" flowers from you are always the best.

after the both of you turned 17, you two made your relationship official, deciding why wait when both of you were certain you have the rest of your lives to love each other plus bragging rights for that.

on his last year as nekoma's captain and middle blocker, you watched from the sidelines how nekoma lost against karasuno, concluding his last game in high school.

at 18, you gave him a bouquet of flowers of red roses wrapped in mixtures of black, red, and white cellophane. touched, he cried yet again in your arms. kenma and his other teammates watching the two of you from a far, smiling with tears in their eyes waiting to spill.

at 19, you both got accepted to your dream universities. you also got accepted at a cafe for a part time job, whereas tetsurou got accepted in his university's volleyball team. all is well.

on your 3rd anniversary, you both celebrated at an art cafe museum. he had given you a promise ring (soon to be engagement ring, he teased), a handwritten letter, and of course, a bouquet of flowers.

three down, a lifetime to go, part of the letter says. the whole night you both expressed just how in love you were with each other. you actually saw the shreds of the receipt of the ring he purchased under your shared bed. he still can't hide things, you chuckled.

at 21, when both of you graduated uni with flying colors and when he decided to go pro, things started to change.

when the flowers you would receive weren't personally given from tetsurou in the flesh, and instead, they were delivered at your office or at your shared home. when the "just because" flowers turned into "i"m sorry" flowers— "i'm sorry i was late last time" flowers, "i'm sorry i'm never home nowadays" flowers, "i'm sorry i can't update as much", "i'm sorry i can't make it" flowers.

it all became too much.

you were starring at the engagement ring on your finger— one of tetsurou's 5th anniversary surprise— when the doorbell rang. you dragged your feet to the front door, already know what to expect.

by the 10th flowers you received via delivery, you stopped counting. sometimes when tetsurou disappointed or upset you, he would either facetime you, give you flowers, or in rare times, he would be radio silent— not a single text or message or call. because how can he notice you were slowly fading away when he was so busy all the goddamn time?

this cycle repeated over and over again for 2 years. you can tell he tries so hard to keep communicating with you. he loves you that much.

it was 4:50pm, the sun was almost setting and you were in your car waiting for him at the airport. his team was miraculously given a month off to rest from the constant training and leagues. he kissed you as soon as he got inside, putting his things at the back seat. he handed you a single rose made out of paper which was colored with, as you can tell, a red marker.

this was the first time in 24 years that he gave you a lone flower instead of a bouquet.

"i bought you a lot of things! i remembered you mentioning them!" he beemed.

before you could say "you didn't have to" he pecked your lips, wiggling a finger at you. "i missed you. let me you love you just how i have been doing so for the past 24 years."

so for a month, he did. he made it up to you so well, showering you with kisses the moment you wake up and the moment you fall asleep, making love to you in every part of the house, telling you stories and becoming such a loser in love when he expresses how much he loves you all the while rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand, or you being wrapped up in his arms. not a single milimeter of space between the two of you. most of the time, he would do everything, from cooking to cleaning.

when you would eat out together, he would always give you the princess treatment. you barely lifted a finger during the whole month of his stay.

on his last day before he had to leave for overseas again, you wondered when will you ever get married.

and so when he made love to you that night, when he kissed you goodbye, when he texted again that they just landed, you had a sickening feeling in your gut.

for a few weeks, everything was fine until he gradually became radio silent again. this time, he rarely delivered flowers, or called, or texted. this time, he was mostly a ghost.

the first message from him and flowers via delivery was given to you a day late on your birthday, and that's where you decided you just can't do this anymore.

you prolonged it for weeks, even after he said he won't be having any oversea activities for a while. it just wasn't the same anymore. he was still never home.

"i love you," he said out of the blue, his eyes downcasted. all these years, he's still bad at hiding things from you.

"i love you, tetsurou," he turned his head to look at you, dreading what you would say next, "but i think we should break up."

he tried. you both tried, but it just didn't work anymore. maybe it was destiny to wait for you for so long— but that doesn't mean it works. for 24 years, you loved each other so much— but that doesn't mean it works.

after crying in each other's arms, he let you go.

you had the rest of your lives to love each other— but from afar.

a year and a half after the break up, you were sitting at a cafe, waiting for the blind date your friend at work set up for you. kenma was against the whole idea, but he realized you had the right to move on from kuroo. you and kuroo both did. the two of you were his best friends after all. it was just sad how he had to witness the both of you barely functioning after the break up, all the while doing his best not to talk to you or kuroo about each other.

so when a boy with dark brown hair went inside, quickly approaching you, you thought this was a bad idea.

"are you y/n?"

you nodded slowly, eyeing what he was holding. your heart was in your throat.

his eyes shone, handing you the bouquet— yellow daffodils and red roses.

at that moment you thought:

you hate receiving flowers.

general masterlist | haikyuu masterlist

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR POST ANYWHERE IN OTHER PLATFORMS. feedbacks, comments, and rbs are appreciated!

[bug-bites]

batfam beach episode?? real not clickbait no glue no borax??

cw: nothing! pure vacation beach fluff (p≧w≦q) also barely proofread,,,

pairing: gn!reader x batfam (NOT ALL AT ONCE.)

characters: dick grayson, jason babygirl todd, cassandra cain, tim drake, damian wayne (all intended to be interpreted as either romantic or platonic unless its damian. ik in some comic runs he's like an adult but hes like permanently 12 in my head and i dont fw that :/)

a/n: im back with a new dc obsession tee hee (soz to everyone who wanted more abt the cod guys or spiderverse im comicsmaxxing and redhoodpilled) will probably make a part 2 w/ bruce, babs, steph, and duke eventually :3c

Dick Grayson haha dick

oh he loves the beach so much

the sand beneath his feet make him feel nostalgic from when he would practice tumbling with his parents in the circus ring i think there's sand in circus rings right? I dunno someone fact check me on that one

the victim of being buried in the sand, always asks for a mermaid tail but ends up with something like massive sand tits (courtesy of either tim or jason), he laughs it off anyways

somehow gets the worst tan lines. He wore a swim shirt one time and never again because the tan lines looked SO BAD which is a total shame because he tans gorgeously

will beg to do play shoulder wars i have no clue if this is the right name, again fact check me for this thing where you get a piggyback ride from someone and you try to knock someone whos also getting a piggyback ride over in the water

you’re on his shoulders since bro is strong asf and you square up against tim and damian

obviously you lose because hello that's damian wayne we are talking about but at least its fun!!

cass and jason are forever the undefeated champions of shoulder wars though, that goes without saying

Cassandra Cain

shes always seen beach episodes in animes that damian practically dragged her into watching so when she gets to actually go to a beach she is so excited peak sibling bonding is dragging your siblings into your interests

loves building sandcastles and writing things in the sand, watching it get washed away, and then do it all over again

hold her hand and jump over waves together on the shore and she will be the giggliest and happiest human being alive on planet earth

but out of all the beach activities she loves beach volleyball

shes actually scarily good at beach volleyball for someone who has never played volleyball before

dick thought it would be fun to teach her and have a friendly match between him and bruce vs you and cass

yeah bruce and dick were COOKED. huffing and puffing like they have a vendetta against the three little pigs at the end of it while cass is like “this is so fun, lets go again!”

ends the day with a little sunset stroll along the shore i need her so bad you do not understand please bbyg ill treat u soooo well

Jason Todd

beaches are fun on paper for him, in person not so much

PERSONAL HC INCOMING! He gets migraines after the lazarus pit so he can only have so much fun before needing to lie face down with his head covered with a beach towel to make everything less overwhelming or he wears sunglasses the entire time

he brings a book to read at the beach and stays in the shade the entire time yes he is that bitch

usually at home in the comfort of his little library he likes to read things that have an impact on him or just stuff that makes him want to analyze deeper. think books like frankenstein, lord of the flies, all quiet on the western front, just generally heavier stuff

but his vacation books? totally different. usually something super light, maybe a shitty romance book that you find in walmart which are clearly just results of book packaging, or a some booktok recommendation he got for shits and giggles because it just was so laughably bad, maybe even a childhood feel-good book like percy jackson or the little prince (mostly just books he would not grieve over if sand permanently got in between the pages)

he tried reading a colleen hoover book once and honest to God wanted to toss it into the ocean HE WOULD HATE HER BOOKS AND I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

but out of everything he likes watching you enjoy yourself, his book wasnt that important anyways. show him that funky sand dollar you found or that really cool piece of seaglass, he’s probably gonna bring it home with him. a little keepsake along with the millions of grains of sand that never seem to go away

Tim Drake

Burns so easily

At first its kinda cute, like hes asking you to help him get that spot on his back he just cant seem to reach and its just a little sweet moment between you two as you rub the sunscreen into his sore muscles

But then it happens again. And again. And again to the point when he goes up to you, you automatically reach for the tube of SPF 100+ 

I just know his vitamin d deficiency goes crazy

Leaves the beach looking like a lobster, sunburnt, a crazy bump on his head from getting hit with a volleyball, and some god awful sunglasses tan lines

Overall, beach activities are not really his thing bros job is NAWT beach

Enjoys the boardwalk a lot more than the beach itself, likes the touristy stuff but still goes to the beach because dick loves it and he loves his older brother :(

Damian Wayne

i feel like he wouldn’t care too much for typical beach stuff. like at every beach that has sand and decently clean water you can do most beach activities

one thing that is never 100% consistent at all beaches is what lives on the beaches. this boy will spend hours staring into tidepools 

bruce was lowk concerned because his son did not gaf about normal beach activities that kids do but eventually he reached a point where he was like "i mean at least hes having fun and being safe"

i feel like talia would always show him books of sea creatures when he was little but he never ended up being able to see them in their natural habitat someone take this boy to an aquarium now

tells you fun facts about each creature you come across

will scold you if you take a shell from the beach, definitely says some shit like “how would you feel if someone ran into your house and just took your bed?”  based though, leave shells at the beach yall! taking them is like bad for the ecosystem

brings his notebook around and has little sketches of the sea creatures

even though typical beach activities arent his favourite, he doesnt hate it. he likes that he can catch a break from all the vigilante stuff and spend time with his family as a family and not just as a team

loves scuba diving. idk it just somehow makes sense and i think he would look really stupid in a wet suit

also i feel like he would never mention it but in his mind hes fully thinking "this is just like a beach episode" but he would rather die than say it out loud FUCKING NERDDD

[gh0st-author]

This love is alive, back from the dead

pairing: William James Moriarty x reader/oc

tags: hurt/comfort, angst but with a happy ending, usual soft William things

warnings: mentions of death (i mean Liam did try to delete himself from existence), mentions of grief and dealing with loss

A/N: im rereading the manga again and i had a LOT of feelings about the 3 year time skip and imaging all of the turmoil Liam's return would bring, so i whipped this up. i also had a lot of feelings for Louis, and i just know him and Liam's s/o would be besties. also im trying some new things, writing in third person and stuff, so this can be read either as a self insert or an oc ff.

She could still hear the screams. Could still see both of them falling, as in slow motion, and disappearing beneath the waves and fire. She could smell the smoke and soot. Could still feel the same burning heartache and hollowness in her chest even after three years. Could still feel Louis' firm hand grabbing her shoulder and pulling her away, his own form trembling, his breathing erratic. The image was burned into her mind like a brand, tape playing in a loop over and over again like a nightmare from which she couldn't wake up. She was trapped. Some days she barely even felt alive. She felt like a ghost, a shell of her former self, only going through the motions, trying to just get through every day.

Nights were simultaneously the worst and the best part of her day. Every time she sank into the cold, empty sheets of her and William's bed, something in her chest cleaved, and a knife burrowed itself into her heart. And if by some miracle she was able to fall asleep in the early hours of the morning, it was accompanied by choking sobs and shuddering gasps. The bed was too cold, too empty. But at night at least she dreamed. She dreamed of him. Dreamed of his scarlet gaze, his scent, his touch, his voice. In her dreams she could love him again and enjoy a few blissful hours of ignorance before morning cruelly ripped her away into consciousness. She woke every morning with silent tears streaming down her face, his side of the bed cold and undisturbed, exactly like the rest of the room. She'd left it all the same as the day it all happened. All his papers were still strewn across his desk; she dared not disturb them lest she severed the last thread of hope pushing her forward, the silent voice whispering that he might come in any second to collect them and stew over them. His clothes were still in the closet, everything besides the coat, the hat, and the cane he took with him that day— those she missed the most, they were an integral part of him. His books on the shelves she dusted every day— after all, what if he came back and wanted to read them again? She had to. And anything else she couldn't keep in their room she left in his study, locked to anyone besides her and Louis.

Grief was a living thing eating her from the inside, almost as much as the rage. Those first few months were the worst. She screamed, cried, and cursed the heavens, herself, this wretched country, and anyone she could. She was so angry at everything, but mostly at him, for leaving her, for carving himself a place in her soul so thoroughly, then ripping himself away leaving a jagged wound left to fester and rot. She was furious with Sherlock, for promising her something he could not deliver. For dying with him, instead of saving him. For damning them both. But most of all she was empty. Numb. As if everything that was human and alive and good about her died on that day together with William.

With a blink, she ripped herself away from those thoughts, feeling cold droplets slide down her cheeks onto the papers below. It was not the time for nostalgia and melancholy. Wiping them away with a silent curse she inspected her work for any signs of smudging. None. Her handwriting was neat and precise as always, detailing all of the plans for the MI6's newest job. Doing this work helped. Sitting here in William's office and focusing her mind on the simple tasks in front of her helped her to not succumb to the gaping abyss of grief. Besides, without him here, someone had to document and keep everything in order.

There was a silent knock on the door and she turned around in the chair to see Louis entering with a tray. The sunlight from the window shone golden light onto his platinum hair, now pushed back and not hiding his scar anymore. His tired gaze met hers and she fought back the wave of sadness threatening to overwhelm her. They were so similar, him and William. Looking at him made her feel like she was looking at a distorted mirage of the past. She assumed he felt very much the same when he looked in the mirror. She wondered what he thought when he looked at her.

A kind of understanding had been built between them in these three years, a sort of bond forged in shared grief and pain. They both understood that William had tasked them with taking care of each other, his two closest. She genuinely believed he was the only one who truly understood her loss, and she his. It was true, that losing William indeed impacted everyone in the group, that they were all battling their pain in their own way, but she and Louis just felt it a little bit differently– a little bit more acutely. Albert, too, she assumed, but he wasn't here now.

"I brought you tea," he said gently, leaving it on the desk next to her papers.

She stretched in the chair, raising her arms above her head and nodding gratefully at him. "Thank you, Louis."

"Do try not to overwork yourself. My brother would have my head if he thought I haven't been taking care of you." He chuckled wryly, but it didn't reach his eyes. They were concerned and pleading. He was aware of her insomnia and her tendency to bury her raging storm of emotions in work. He never said so outright, but she noticed his subtle pleas for her to rest and the food he prepared for her to eat when she forgot. He noticed everything, much in the same way she noticed his sunken eyes on the days after a night plagued by nightmares not too different from her own.

"Don't worry, Louis. I am almost finished." She glanced down at the papers around her. "I just need to go over a couple of things."

He nodded and turned to leave. "We are having a meeting in the main lobby in ten minutes to finalize the plan. Join us if you can."

She hummed, still writing, without glancing at him. "I'll be right there."

Since Louis took over, their lobby had become sort of their main office, their base. They all gathered there on days when they had missions, holding their briefings and studying her documentation. As she made her way down the dark hallway and the stairs, she noticed more voices than usual inside the great room. Someone else was there. She sighed and resigned herself, squaring her shoulders before entering and sitting in her designated seat. Mycroft was present this time. In much the same way she could barely look at Louis some days, she avoided looking at Mycroft. He was a reminder to her of what she'd lost, of promises broken and grudges simmering beneath her skin. She'd trusted the Holmes', and look where it got her. He and his brother were responsible for separating the Moriartys, Albert now rotting in prison because of Mycroft, and William forever lost because of Sherlock. But now when she looked at him, worn down and silently fixing himself a cup of tea in the corner, she hated him a little less. He'd lost his brother, too. She understood that.

The meeting commenced immediately and she went over their mission with everyone. She was in the middle of explaining their escape route when there was a sound at the front door. Bond excused himself and went to check it out. She faintly heard him talking with someone and figured it was one of the others, not really paying attention. But then Bond shrieked and she heard Louis gasp out one word that made her blood freeze and head whip towards the door.

"Sh- Sherlock?!"

Sherlock stood at the entrance, ebony hair much longer than she remembered, the same mischievous grin on his face. He was speaking, but she couldn't hear a word he said, couldn't focus on what he said to Mycroft, couldn't comprehend any sound around her besides the rushing of blood in her ears. He's alive. Sherlock was alive. They survived. They came back. He kept his promise. But Liam ... Liam? Where is he? Why was Sherlock there and not Liam? Where is Liam? Liam. Liam. Liam. Every word was a painful beat of her heart. Her chest contracted painfully as she struggled to breathe, her gaze darting all around the room, searching for a trace of platinum hair behind Sherlock. Why wasn't he coming in? Surely he is there. He couldn't be– Not him. That would be unfair. Fate wouldn't save one and not save the other. It wouldn't be so cruel as to give her hope after so long, only to squash it immediately. She stood so abruptly that she knocked over the glasses on the table. Her vision dimmed as she hyperventilated, and she took a shuddering step towards him. Sherlock looked rightfully taken aback when she focused her glare on him. "Where is he?" She choked on the last word but barged forward. "Why isn't he here? Why did you come back alone? WHE-"

A firm hand on her shoulder halted her movements and the barrage of questions. She finally took a deep breath and glanced at Louis, stone-faced beside her. His hand squeezed, telling her to breathe and calm down, but she could feel him shaking. His unreadable gaze was staring directly at Sherlock. "That day..." He swallowed. "You fell with William into the Thames, and now you're the only one standing in front of us." His gaze sharpened. "Can you please explain yourself?"

She glanced back to the man in question. She noticed now that he looked more worn out, or maybe that was because of the pitying glance he shot her way, a tortured sigh wrenching itself from deep within his chest. He brushed a hand through his hair, something he did whenever he was uncomfortable. "That time, when Liam and I fell, considering the height of the bridge our chances of survival were half at best. I held him in my arms and tried to protect him the best I could." He looked straight into her eyes as he said that as if to make her believe him. To say that he really tried. Maybe he felt her resentment, her grudge. "We lost consciousness, and before I knew it, I woke up on an unfamiliar ship, Liam sleeping next to me. He was safe but injured. And then..."

The rest of his story blurred, his recollections of their life abroad, of Billy, of their work fading into background noise. All she could hear and feel were Sherlock's three words. He was safe. He was alive. Liam was safe and alive. All she could do was offer her thanks to the heavens.  Her knees gave out and she slumped back into her chair. Sherlock said that he was hurt, maybe that's why he couldn't come back. Maybe he didn't want to? How badly was he hurt?

She opened her mouth to ask, but Louis shook his head. "Let's focus on the mission first."

Right, the mission. Let's finish the mission first, there will be time to ask Sherlock about William later. Numerous thoughts ran through her mind, and she didn't even notice when their negotiations ended; when their briefing concluded. She was only numbly aware of Bond gently leading her back into her and William's shared room. She barely remembered why she'd been down there in the first place. Ah, that's right, they had a mission. And Sherlock came to help with their work. Sherlock who was alive. Who saved William. Liam was alive.

Her shaking legs carried her to the bed, where she numbly sat down, her trembling hands grabbing the fabric of her dress. She had to get ready, but she couldn't. Her shock was too great, her soul too shaken. Her sleepless nights must be catching up with her, she didn't even notice how tired she was. "I'm sorry, Bond. I don't think I can participate tonight."

Bond placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Louis already arranged for you to stay back. Don't worry, we'll be able to finish it ourselves." He knelt in front of her taking both of her still shaking hands into his. "I promise we'll find out everything we can about him from Sherlock. As soon as we get back you will be the first to know."

Tears prickled the corners of her eyes and she squeezed his hands gratefully. "Thank you."

With a nod, Bond raised himself and pivoted to leave, assuring her they'll be back soon. She hardly heard him. She was afraid of speaking, of breathing too loud, as if any unexpected noise might shatter this glass-thin fragile ball of hope growing in her chest, burying the razor-sharp edges of the shards of disappointment deep into her flesh, slicing fatal wounds she would not be able to recover from. She didn't let herself dwell on it. She just kept repeating to herself that he was alive and that that was enough.

After some time— she wasn't aware how much of it had passed — she became dimly aware of commotion happening down in the foyer. Throwing on one of William's old cardigans, she raced down the stairs, fully expecting to see only Louis or Bond back from the mission.

What she hadn't expected to see was everyone– even Moran– huddled in front of the main lobby in the foyer. As soon as he saw her Bond gestured for her to hurry up and enter the room. She hurriedly threw open the door, seeing three figures inside– one of them Louis, the other Albert. Her gaze widened as he met her eyes, lips pulling into his signature smirk, his eyes softening as her own filled with tears. He was released from prison. But how? Louis– who was standing with his back to her, obscuring the third figure– turned towards her, and her steps came to a screeching halt as she finally got her first look at the remaining person. Her hand flew to her mouth, as a heartbreaking sob tore its way from her throat.

Him. With his same platinum hair, now a little longer. His same gentle smile. His same scarlet gaze– one of his eyes now hidden under an eyepatch. He was standing behind his brothers, but when he saw her he took a slow step forward. It took her a second to really categorize the feeling currently coursing through her, filling her every pore. It was joy– pure, unadulterated joy was rushing through her veins. It had been so long that she'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Her gaze roamed over him, noting all of the differences that separated this William from the William in her dreams- her William. One thought ran through her mind— He looks so much thinner now– and then she thought nothing as she flung herself at him with another choked sob. He caught her readily, burying his face in her hair. No hesitation or doubt in his movements, as if showing her that no matter how much time had passed he would always be there to catch her in his arms– where she belonged.

Somewhere through the fog in her mind, she heard Albert and Louis excusing themselves,  leaving them alone and closing the door behind them— probably also asking everyone to give them some space– then the only sounds in the now silent room were her desperate gasps of his name and William's gentle reassurances saying: "I'm here, darling. Don't worry, I am not going anywhere. I'll always be here."

She was babbling, she knew, but she couldn't help herself. "Liam... Liam... You are alive. Sherlock said so, but I couldn't believe it. I–" Pulling away, she grabbed his hands, gaze unfocused, like some madness was forcing her to speak— as if she was a woman possessed. "It's you. It's really you. You returned. All this time I thought–"

His eyes shone, probably mirroring all of the storming feelings now reflected in her own. He traced abstract patterns on her skin with his thumbs as he kissed away her tears, his lips feather-soft on her skin. "If it were my choice, I would've come back as soon as I awoke, but I was gravely injured. When I finally regained consciousness, Billy had me working all over America. The matter was of utmost secrecy so I was unable to contact anyone." His shoulders slumped even more, and to her utter shock and confusion, she could see his entire being tremble softly. His gaze lifted, and the anguish in it dulled its usual scarlet hue into something more hollow— something akin to the colour of dried blood. "I am so sorry, love. For everything. For not returning sooner. For leaving. For that night." He gave an impossibly sorrowful smile. "Please forgive me."

Her knees wobbled and she found herself with no strength to stand, plopping ungracefully on the floor. He knelt right next to her, embracing her strongly, paying no heed to the tears staining his vest. "I am so sorry, darling." All he could do was repeat that as she cried and sobbed, clawing at his shirt. He made no moves, only hugged her tighter, and waited patiently for her to come to terms with this world-shattering revelation. As she screamed all her pain at him, all her grief. He just listened, murmuring soft words of love and acknowledgment.

She wasn't aware of how long they'd stayed like that, but when her sobs finally quieted and breathing no longer felt like sandpaper down her windpipe, she leaned away to truly look at him. She placed a gentle hand on his cheek, her wide gaze ran over him, dry lips parting to say something. "What happened to your eye?" Her fingers lightly traced the eyepatch.

He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing as she raised her hand from his eyepatch to brush it through his hair. "Sherlock helped me heal it. It's my badge of honor for my foolishness. But a small price to pay for all of the sins I've committed." He opened his eyes to look at her. "For leaving you."

"Oh, Liam..." She shook her head, the lump in her throat almost choking her. "I do not blame you for leaving." His lips pulled into a thin line, eyes shining with unshed tears. She swallowed painfully, then continued. "I do not agree with your actions, but I do not blame you. I forgive you." His eyes widened, and before he could react she pulled him back into her, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and placing his head on her shoulder, under her chin.

It felt so right to have him in her embrace like this, after so long, like two halves of a whole. To feel the hollow in her chest slowly filling up. It made these years without him feel like a bad dream, a hazy nightmare. She felt more than heard him whisper the words into her shoulder. "I hate myself for having done it, but I saw no other way. I realize now my mistake." He left a whisper of a kiss on her shoulder. "I shouldn't have thrown away my life like that, and I will forever be grateful for being given a second chance. I will not waste a moment of it." He leaned back and cupped her face with both hands, gaze impossibly soft and sincere. "I have chosen to live and to atone, and I am going to spend the rest of my days making up for the time I missed. I will tell you I love you with my every breath. I will kiss you until I'm dizzy. I know it might not be enough to repay all of the pain that I've caused you, but I hope you'll allow me to try."

"There is nothing to repay," she whispered as she stroked his hair. "You— William James Moriarty— are a kind, beautiful soul. One worthy of a second chance. So thank you... for believing in this world and for coming back to me."

His gaze lowered and she noticed his lower lip trembling before he pulled her into a kiss. A barely perceptible sound left him when their lips met, something akin to a sob, and she said nothing more as she felt the first searing droplet slide down his face and hit her arm, only deepening the kiss. With each kiss a miniature chunk of her soul broke, razor sharp and jagged, but with each next one, it smoothed and evened out, until they were all like pieces of a puzzle slotting themselves back into their rightful place. There will be enough time to talk later. For now, this was enough. Just holding him, kissing him, while they were both shattered and reborn anew was enough.

They separated after way too long, her finally remembering there were other people still waiting to see him. She called everyone back, all of them rushing into the room at the same time, surrounding William. There hasn't been this much joy in the house in years. She hugged Albert, grateful he was back as well and enjoyed the sight of the three brothers back together again. The sight was just right in her mind– it always felt wrong to see Louis all alone without them. After some time Albert shooed her and William away, saying he should get some rest after travelling so far. She led him into their shared bedroom and he paused at the threshold. She felt his hesitation, his cautious step forward betraying his inner turmoil. This must feel unreal to him as well, he didn't think he'd be coming back here. She couldn't even begin to understand what thoughts were racing behind his gaze as he entered and glanced around the room, his eyes widening. "It looks-"

"The same?" she chuckled, turning her back to him and slowly walking to his desk to trace the documents strewn there. "Yes, I didn't dare touch anything. Having it all unchanged like this made me feel-" Like you were coming back. She knew he heard the unspoken end of the sentence as he silently made his way towards her, slotting his hands around her waist, and pressing her to his chest. His heart was racing against her back– or was that her heart?

With a silent chuckle and a loving sigh, he whispered in her ear. "Well, since I have made a miraculous return, I do believe I'll need to tidy up my space again."

Her voice was still trembling as she answered. "I dusted your books. Your clothes are still in the closet. But your study is a mess. Wait, I'll tell Moneypenny-"

He tightened his arms around her. "Later." He traced gentle kisses down her throat to her shoulder. "I find myself impossibly weary and in need of some sleep. These last years my nights were restless at best and downright torturous at worst without you by my side."

"Of course." Her nights were exactly the same, although she suspected he already knew that. She also suspected this was truly more for her benefit than his. She couldn't remember the last time she'd truly slept and she was probably swaying on her feet. He saw right through her, as always. With a pointed glance at her and then the bed, he quickly maneuvered her towards it, laying her down as he joined after her.

Immediately she inched as close as she could to him, breathing in his scent, feeling herself relax for the first time in who knows how long as he hugged her to his chest. Everything was still so fresh, so raw. It was too much and too little at the same time. She wanted to never let him go, but she was also so terrified that if she clutched too hard he would vanish and she would wake up all alone again. As she gazed into his eyes, she saw the same torment in him and she knew right then, as she slowly succumbed to peaceful slumber, that he would understand why on some nights she'd hold onto him tighter, as if afraid he might disappear into mist and smoke. And he knew that she would understand why he would sometimes look at her reverently, drinking in her visage as if to compensate for all the times he wasn't able to.

The next day was a flurry of movement and preparations and action, with William having invited Sherlock and his flatmates for dinner. Everyone was so busy following Louis' orders that by the time the guests arrived she'd had almost no time with Liam the entire day. The tables were set, the finest china was served, and the room was slowly filling up with all of the planned attendees. A sudden wave of nostalgia washed over her watching the scene. It was almost as if nothing happened. Once again she had the feeling that these three years were just a horrible nightmare.

While everyone was busy socializing, she spied Sherlock's dark head in the corner of the room, and with a determined set of her shoulders, she made her way towards him, each step purposeful and direct. She didn't let herself falter, didn't let herself doubt. Once in front of him, confronted with his confused and– dare she say it– scared gaze, she stopped and bowed deeply. "Thank you..."

He was obviously taken aback, his eyes widening and his hands flying to wave in front of him. "No need, I was just-"

She rose from her bow. "Please, I need to say this." He coughed awkwardly but didn't stop her as she continued. "I admit that I have been holding a grudge for the last three years. I thought that if I ever saw you I would not be able to forgive you." He might've muttered something along the lines of "Yeah I was aware of that", but she couldn't be sure. She glanced down at her clenched fists." Still, you brought him back." Once again her gaze connected with his. "You brought Liam back. You were his friend and you saved him and cared for him. And that's something I can never repay." One of her hands clutched her chest as she poured all of her feelings out to him. "You have my deepest gratitude, Sherlock Holmes."

"Hey now-" He dragged his hand through his hair and groaned, feeling awkward under her unwavering attention. "Ah, this is so troublesome. Listen, Liam is my friend, I couldn't just let him die after I promised you I'd help him. Besides-" He stuffed his hands in his pockets and huffed out a breath giving her a sincere glance. "What kind of a friend would I be to him if I didn't bring him home to you." Her breath hitched in her throat, tears threatening to fall once again as Sherlock gave her a cheeky grin. "Just... treat him right, okay? He truly loves you."

She nodded her head. "I know." She knew it was redundant to tell him that she loved Liam, too. From the look on Sherlock's face, he already knew. Clearing her throat, she said: "If you ever need anything this house will always be open to you."

Sherlock was about to answer when she heard silent footsteps behind her and felt an arm softly wrap itself around her waist. "Something interesting you two are whispering about?"

She relaxed into William's hold, feeling his familiar warmth and scent envelop her. "Nothing. I was just thanking Sherlock."

She felt his amused humm and saw him give Sherlock an apologetic smile before enveloping her hand with his and gently tugging her after him, away from the main lobby. "Can I steal you away for a moment?"

She followed him without complaint. "Of course."

Quietly, he steered her along into one of their libraries, closing the door shut behind him, but still unable to completely drown out the cacophony of Von Herder's latest gramophone concert invention. She laughed as he led her deeper into the room. "Should the hosts be missing their event like this?"

He gave her a conspiratorial smile, his scarlet gaze bright with mirth. "I'm sure Sherlock will fabricate some excuse for us." Pulling her towards him, he pretended to consider it. "After all, they were all with you all these years, I'm sure they'll allow me to have you all to myself for a little while."

So saying, he gently took her hands, positioning one on his shoulder and holding the other, while his other hand slotted itself on the small of her back. With another mischievous smile, he pulled her closer and started slowly swaying to the music still bleeding into the room. A chuckle of surprise left her lips and she rested her head on his chest, following his lead and swaying along with him. They all could wait a little longer for all she cared, she wanted to stay like this forever. Basking in his embrace, in his warmth– she knew now that that was what home felt like. Like yin and yang, she knew that their love was everlasting. Even when she has to let it go, it will always, unfailingly and undoubtedly, come back to her.

[dullgecko]

i need to talk about this fig headcanon of mine and i cant edit the fic im writing about for like two days so

hear me out. fig knows several very traditional elven dances

i see elven couple dances as ballroom style dances, like a waltz or a slow dance, just endlessly more complicated. obviously theres still the dance style fabian does, which is either a singular person dance or multiple people dancing at the same time but separately, but i think fig knows specifically two person dances and is pretty good at them

so fig in freshman year is all. oh no, prom is coming up? but i cant dance?? and obviously logically nobody will be any good but shes still stressed about it so gilear teaches her one of the simplest elven dances he knows (incredibly complicated but at least hes a good teacher)

and obviously fig cant use that knowledge at prom because *dragon*, but i do think she learns more just from dancing with gilear all the time because she thinks its fun, and i also think adaine knows the same dances so they 100% will dance together

i dont see kristen or gorgug as being able to really do them(on account of either low dex or just the dances inherently not being made for a half-orc body type), and i dont think riz would want to either, but i think adaine does know them and has fun doing them with fig

fabian and fig dont dance until sophomore year spring break passes because he did *know* the dances, from being made to take classes, but he and fig both absolutely refused to be the following role until after spring break

but once fabian is willing to let fig lead (toxic masculinity is dead after all) they also dance! they have lots of fun i think

anyways thats my fig dancing headcanon, i just love the idea of her being taught by gilear and then using it as a way to stay connected to her elven roots. she is still half elf, after all, and so are 2/4 of her parents !

Fabian starts taking his bard classes in junior year and he is crushing it. They're learning all sorts of dances from all over Spyre, including elven ballroom dances, so he has the music in his playlists so he can practice at home. He needs to get both roles of this dance memorised as part of a graded assignment so he organises a study/hang-out session with his friends while he works on it solo.

Its not quite the same as practising with a partner and its complicated so he keeps messing up and tries to goad some of his friends into helping.

Riz is the first person he asks, the goblin is already there before everyone else because he's burning himself out trying to help everyone study while also doing his own homework, but he categorically refuses to dance and argues the height difference would make it weird. It's an elven dance, elves tend to be over 3 feet tall. He has memorised the steps though and helps Fabian with his footwork from the sidelines whenever he catches him messing up, even if he refuses to do the dance properly. Fabian, for a moment, thinks of getting Ayda or Adaine to cast enlarge on the goblin so they'd be the same height for a while but immediatly stomps on that idea because no, it would be weird if Riz was tall. Better to ask one of his other friends instead.

Gorgug offers to help when he arrives for their hangout session but he's not good at dancing at all. He's strong, and he's an athlete, but he has two left feet and his movements are too slow to keep up with the fast-paced footwork. He ends up stepping on Fabians feet so many times that they decide its better not to practice together otherwise they're GOING to have to get Kristen or Fig to heal the half-elf when they arrive. Gorgug takes over manning the music, restarting or rewinding it whenever Fabian asks him to, so that Riz can go back to doing his homework without having to break his concentration every three seconds.

Kristen arrives next, plopping herself down on the ground next to Riz and his impressive spread of papers and notebooks and settles in to watch. Fabian does not ask her to dance with him and she doesnt offer, they both know that if she tries someone WILL break something. Her dexterity score is bad enough that she'd probably even manage to injure either Gorgug or Riz in the crossfire and there are a lot of mirrors to break in Fabians studio. She is pretty strict about making sure Fabian stops every ten minutes or so to drink some water and even forces him to take a proper break and have a snack when he starts looking a bit woozy from low blood-sugar.

By the time Fabian is feeling better Adaine has arrived, the elf plopping down with Riz and pulling out her own homework to get his help with something. Adaine watching Fabian from the sidelines for a few minutes while Riz reads over her notes before mentioning that she knows this dance. Her homework immediatly gets abandoned as Fabian drags her to her feet and gets her to go through the dance a few times with him before she has to stop from exhaustion. She does not have the same level of stamina as their fighter who can literally dance for an entire day before getting tired. Fabian is grateful for the help though because now he has at least got the lead roll memorised. He still has to perfect the following role before his next class but Adaine cant help with that, her parents only ever let her learn the following role so she wouldnt be able to help him as lead.

Fig is, predictably, fashionably late to their hang-out/study session. She doesnt go to any of her bard classes so there's no homework there, and Porters barbarian classes don't really assign homework so she doesnt have any book-work to do so it doesnt matter. Fabian doesnt have to ask her to help him with his footwork, because the instant she clocks what he's working on she dumps her bags and jacket and sweeps in to wheel him around the room as the lead in their dance. She has been waiting for an oportunity to show this off and she takes to it with gusto. She is a bard afterall, and even if her speciality isnt dancing her performance is immaculate due to all of her practice with Gilear.

Fabian, of course, gets an A+.

[felixsramen]

Yours Truly

This is part 11 to my Skz poly fic. I'm glad you guys seem to enjoy it these have been kinda soothing writing. This one's kinda short but I promise next chapter will be longer.

Previous<<<<< Next>>>>>

Warnings: mentions of sex, doesn't go in description though

It had been 4 days since that date. You were kinda surprised and upset that you hadn't gotten a text or a call from any of the boys. Maybe you should've texted? Well that's what you were doing now.

You only had 2 of their numbers. Felix and Changbins. You decided to text Changbin knowing he'd probably text back sooner or at least you had hoped he would.

'Hey Bin I was wondering if you wouldn't mind making a chat with all of the boys?'

You watch as you look back at your computer screen. You were elbow deep in notes and typing up papers for work. You weren't even at the office though. You had gotten an email from your boss letting you know that the office was still closed and it probably would be for a while longer.

You didn't mind though. You didn't hate the work but you hated the people. They were all stuck up thinking they were too good and talking behind each other's backs. If the money wasn't good you'd probably quit. It was such a toxic working environment.

Your phone lights up.

'Of course I don't mind.' Changbin texts back.

His text brought a smile to your face. Within seconds you get texts from all 8 boys.

'Hi Y/N it's Chan' one text says.

'Im sure you already know who I am 💋' you chuckle of course you knew who it was.

'No she doesn't all she knows is that you sent a kissing emoji Ji' You laugh at that knowing it was Felix. Of course it was Felix who had always joked with Jisung.

'Don't be stupid already you two I'm Hyunjin' the text says.

'We'll come in Seungmins room right now' Felix texts and you laugh.

'I wish you guys would' Hyunjin texts back.

'Do not come in my room' a text says from who you assume is Seungmin.

'Dont test us' Jisung texts.

'You guys won't' Hyunjin texts back then there's no reply from either of them.

Instead there's another text. 'See now this is why I lock my room door 😑' Seungmin says and you laugh.

'Ignoring our 3 ridiculous boyfriends I'm Minho' a text says.

'It's Jeongin, I.n. or Innie whichever you'd like to call me' Jeongin says and you smile at his words remembering how the boys had called him Innie when you first met.

'Hi Innie' you text back.

'Hi Y/N' Jeongin says back.

'You already have my number but it's Changbin.'

'Well I'm sure you guys all know who I am then' you text in the group chat.

'Of course we do' Chan texts back.

'Hows work going' Jisung who is now back asks you.

'Its been taking up most of my time even though I'm not at the office and probably won't be for a while' you text back.

'Oh why aren't you at the office' Minho asks.

'They're adding a new floor which will probably end up taking a month or so' you text back.

'Well if you're not busy tomorrow could you stop by and help me redye my hair blonde the roots are starting to show and I hate the uneven colors' Felix texts.

'Why not me again' Changbin asks.

'As much as I love and cherish you and would do literally anything for you I'm not letting you help me again you almost had my hair fall out' Felix texts and you laugh.

'I literally read the directions' Changbin says.

'You read the directions but didn't set a timer after 30 minutes I asked you how much longer you said like 10 minutes then after the 10 I asked you again and you said a little bit longer it was almost an hour before I washed out the hair dye and I was terrified my hair was going to fall out 😭' Felix says.

'That's fair' Changbin says and you laugh.

'So will you Y/N please 🥺' Felix asks you.

'I'll try my best to get all my work done for tomorrow done today and then head over there and help you tomorrow 😊' You reply back.

'Thank you so much!' Felix says and it makes you smile.

'Of course' you text.

'Since you're coming over tomorrow why don't you help me cut the ends of my hair' Jisung says.

'Dont you guys have hairdressers?' you ask.

'Yeah but they're not you' Jisung says and it makes you smile.

'Okay I'll come help you but I'm reminding you Ji I'm not a hairdresser' You say to him.

'Don't be upset when your bald tomorrow Ji' Hyunjin texts and you laugh.

'Im not that bad' you say.

'Hey if I'm bald tomorrow at least I'll be bald and happy knowing Y/N cut it' Jisung says and you laugh.

'Ji I love you and I'd do anything for you but if you go bald you won't ever see me again' Hyunjin says.

'So you love me for my hair is what I'm hearing' Jisung texts.

'Please do not make Jisung bald' Minho says.

'I wasn't planning on it😂' You text.

'I'd be upset bc I like pulling his hair during sex' Hyunjin says and your surprised by that text but quickly realize it was Hyunjin and Jisung asking you and teasing you about Felix so you weren't as surprised.

'Really Hyunjin? Now was the time to text that' Chan texts.

'Now or never and it's true so what's the problem' Hyunjin texts.

'Well I'm not making Jisung bald so you'll still be able to pull his hair' You text.

'See Y/N gets what I'm saying are you a hair puller too?' Hyunjin asks. You laugh.

'You don't have to answer that' Seungmin texts.

'I don't mind but to answer your question it depends on the person' You texts back.

No one texts back for a second. Maybe you shouldn't have answered that.

'You're driving me crazy' Hyunjin texts back.

'You're not the only one' Jisung texts.

'You have no idea the effect you have on us do you' Minho texts.

You're surprised by all those texts and look away from your phone for a moment trying to calm yourself.

Another buzz brings you back to reality.

'Stop being horny we need Y/N to finish her work so she can can come over tomorrow' Felix texts.

'Don't pretend you weren't affected by it Lix' Hyunjin texts.

'Like I said let's let her finish her work'

'Fine' Hyunjin says.

'Bye Y/N!!!' Jisung texts.

'Bye Y/N see you tomorrow' Felix texts.

'See you tomorrow' Hyunjin texts.

'Bye Y/N have a good night' Chan texts.

'Hopefully if I'm not busy with work I'll see you tomorrow' Minho texts.

'I'll see you tomorrow Y/N' Jeongin texts.

'We'll see you tomorrow' Seungmin texts.

'Sorry for the craziness we'll talk tomorrow' Changbin texts.

'Bye you guys I'll see hopefully all of you tomorrow' You text back.

With that you turn off your phone going back to your computer. You really needed to finish all your work for tomorrow so you could go over there.

You didn't realize how much you loved seeing the boys and how much you missed talking to them. They all had their unique personalities and you loved that.

You needed to finish this work so you could see them so you push them from your thoughts for now typing again on your computer.

Taglist: @queenmea604 @lolareadsimagines @tinyworld18 @liv302 @jinniespuppy @stephy-nicole13 @haikyuuisposts @freyaniobe @chansbabygirlsstuff @jkookiejiminlvr @hyuneyeon @aerisho @sirenthalia @nagadiluc @tenshimara @leeknowleeknow @boi-bi-ahaha @shltsnglggles @jfkedldndkd @tinystarsthing @armystay89 @baby-fairy-yas @haileybugulug @freckleboilix @im-sinking-in-mud

[malii-the-bonehead]

The Other Woman pt5

heres part 5.. i know it took a while but honestly ive been slacking due to the rafe story im writing. i need to get more chapters of this done so that i dont have to stress about it as much as i have been.

Anyways enjoy part 5<3

Slow burn

Summary: Chris, a popular hockey player at school where Y/n went, found himself falling for the beautiful, shy girl. As time went on he found out who Y/n truly was as a person and ultimately, he had to make the choice, his girlfriend, or the other woman.

Part 5

I’m sitting in the parking lot of the cafe. Honestly, I didn’t want to be here. When I got home from the store, I found mom sprawled out on the floor, bottle in hand and puke next to her. I ended up having to drag her to bed and cleaning her mess. I wish I had the money to send her to a rehab place. She needs to get clean. I thought about texting dad and asking him, but I decided against it. I don’t want help from him. I didn’t need his help anyways.

Other than that mess, everything was fine. I ended up having spare time so I went to my plugs house and got a gram from him. Not for now, but whenever I felt like smoking. I had to restock in case, you know?

I sat in my car for about 15 minutes before receiving a text from Chris. 

You still coming? I checked the time. It was 5:34. I sent him a text back. 

I’m waiting on you, silly. I’ve been here for 15 minutes already. I put my phone down on the seat next to me. I reached into the backseat of my car and grabbed my old calculus textbook from last year. My phone rang.

I got here at 5 lol. I’ve been waiting for you since then. I’m already inside by the window. 

I quickly got out of my car. I didn’t know he was here. I rushed inside the small and homey feeling cafe. When I stepped into the building, the smell of apple pie and coffee filled my nose. I liked the smell of this place. I looked around, seeing Chris on his phone next to the window like he said he was. I walked over to him.

“I’m sorry you were waiting so long. I wish you told me you were already here,” I mumbled and sat down in the open seat across from him. He looked at me, placing his phone in his pocket. There were papers and two books scattered on the table, as well as a pastry, what looked to be a croissant. A chocolate croissant with a few bites taken out of it. I loved chocolate croissants.. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I didn’t know you were here either. We probably should have texted each other, huh?” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little embarrassed. 

“Yeah, that would have been a good idea,” I giggled. “So, let's see what you’re working on.” I placed my book down, next to all the papers and books along the table. 

“Before we start, are you hungry? I’ll pay for it, just order what you want.” Chris smiled at me from across the table. I smiled back.

“No, no, I’ll pay for my food. Thank you though.” He rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come on. It’s the least I can do for making you come all the way here just to help me study.” I shook my head. 

“Fine, but only this once.” I gave him a stern face. I meant it. I didn’t want him paying for me. I’d probably feel bad later for making him pay for me today. 

Chris asked me what I wanted. 

“Hm, I think I’ll get a chocolate croissant as well. Yours looks really good. Also a hot coffee, add sugar and creamer.” He looked at me, taking in the things I asked for. He nodded his head standing up.

“Anything else?” He asked.

“No, thank you.”

“I’ll be back in a sec.” He turned around, walking to the counter to order my food and coffee. I looked at the papers on the table, trying to read the handwriting on each one. Chris didn’t have very readable handwriting…

After a few minutes of trying to figure out what the papers said, Chris came back. He placed my food and coffee down in front of me as well as a water bottle. 

“One croissant, hot coffee, and water for the pretty lady,” He said before sitting back down in his chair. My face started to get warm. 

“Thanks,” I mumbled and looked away towards the window. 

“So, did you find out what all this shit means,” Chris grabbed a paper from the small stack in front of me. 

“To be honest, I couldn’t read your notes. But I could read the typed questions.” He laughed a little. 

“Yeah, my handwriting was never the best.”

“As long as you can read it, right?”

“Right,” he chuckled. He placed the paper in front of me and started pointing out the things he was struggling with. Time to get to work, I internally sighed. 

– 

Helping Chris wasn’t hard at all. He was a fast learner and quick to keep the information in his head. 

Chris groaned and stretched his arms over his head. He leaned back slightly before speaking. “Man, I’m tired. I think we need a break. We’ve been doing this for an hour and a half and I think I got the concept down.”

“How about you do these last three problems,” I scribbled two easy equations and one hard one before sliding the paper in his direction. “Then, we can take a break.”

Chris did the first two problems easily. The last one took him longer than the others but he got the right answer in the end. 

“You’re catching on really fast, Sturniolo.” He smiled at me, a big grin on his face.

“Thank you, Miss L/n.” I felt my cheeks turn pink from that. “You know, it seems like everytime I say something, your face turns pink.”

I felt my face get even pinker, probably red at this point.

“No it doesn’t,” I denied. I knew it did. But would I agree with him on that? No.

“Yes, I think it does. I see it all the time when I talk to you.”

I rolled my eyes.

Chris’s pov

My stomach hurts. It felt like someone was twisting my guts around. She made me so nervous and honestly, I don’t think she notices how she makes me feel. Everything she says makes my heart melt. When she calls me by my name, or even the nicknames she's given me. It makes me want to go feral. If I didn’t have any self control, and wasn’t raised right, then I probably would have. She makes me crazy and I hate it. But God, I love it so much. The feelings she makes me experience are unreal. So unreal to the point that I have to pinch myself sometimes to make sure it isn’t all a dream. 

“When do you think we should wrap this up? Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed being here with you today, but don’t you have better things to do?” She looked at me with a dazed face. She looked so pretty.

I wish I could tell her. Just tell her everything. 

“Yeah, you’re probably right about cleaning up. I’m not busy for the rest of the day, but it is getting late. You probably have some things to do, too.”

She looked out the window. “Actually, there is something I need to do.”

My face dropped. I didn’t want her to go yet. Not that I’d admit that to her.

“Well, thank you for the help, Y/n. I really appreciate it.” She noticed the look on my face. 

“Hey, since you’re not busy, why don’t you come with me? I can drop you off at home after if you’d like,” she offered. My face lit up again. 

“Really? Ah, that would be awesome,” I started to pack up my things, standing from my chair after her. 

As we walked towards the door, I asked her, “Where is it you need to go?” 

“First we’ll go to my car so u can put your things in it, then I need to go get a few books I’ve been dying to read. Luckily, the library is just across the street.” She almost skipped along the sidewalk to her car. 

“That sounds perfect.”

–

We made it to her car. She unlocked the door for me and I placed my bag in the passenger seat. She ended up giving me her old calculus book so my bag was pretty much bursting at this point. 

After we had finished up there, we started walking to the library. There was something soothing about being around her. Even if we didn’t talk, just her presence made me feel tingly inside. 

We made it to the very large building, walking through the automatic doors in the front. I pretty much followed her like a lost puppy.

We had come to a stop in front of the romance section. She dragged her fingers along the spines of some of the books along the shelves. She grabbed one, a thick book with torn edges and yellowed pages. 

“You really like the thickest books out there, don’t you,” I snickered behind her. 

She turned around and looked at me, a smug smile on her face. 

“Yes, maybe you should try reading one? You might learn something from these.” She giggled. I placed my hand on my heart, letting out a fake, pained sigh. She giggled again. “I’m only joking, Chris.”

She faced the shelves again, browsing a little before grabbing two more books. After that, we walked around some more. We went to the educational section, fiction, non-fiction, mystery, you name it. She seemed to have grabbed at least one book from every section. 

We found ourselves in front of the poetry section. 

“Do you need some help with those,” I questioned. She had a stack of at least 8 books in her hands, most of them thick and probably heavy.

“Please,” she sighed, handing me 4 of the 8. After, she looked around the poetry area when she noticed a book on the top shelf. She tried to reach up, failing to grab the thing that caught her eye.

I noticed her struggle and went behind her, reaching up and grabbing the book she had been reaching for. She turned around, looking up at me with a pink face.

“Your face is pink again,” I whispered. We were very close. So close that I almost felt her breath on my face. God, I want to kiss her so bad right now. This was the perfect chance, but I couldn’t. I have a girlfriend. 

“Is it?” She whispered back. I felt my stomach start to flip, once again. It seems to do that a lot these days.

“Very,” I replied. Time seemed to move slowly, not that I minded. 

She stayed looking at me. 

If you keep looking at me like that I might go insane, I thought. Her phone began to ring.  I pulled myself from her eyes, stepping back from her and handing her the big, brown poetry book. She took it, also grabbing her phone from her back pocket. She turned it off, picking her phone back up in the safety of her jeans. 

“Who was that?” 

“My mom,” she replied. “We should probably get going now.” She walked past me, speedily walking to the front of the library to check out the books. I hope I didn’t freak her out or anything. I really hope I didn’t.

Y/n’s pov

Mom texted me a few times after I declined her call. She had asked where I was and when I was going to be home. I shut off my phone, placing it in my lap. The stack of books in the backseat of my car were almost to the top of the seat. Chris had helped me carry them to my car. 

Now, I was driving him home. He sat awkwardly in the passenger seat. I noticed he had fiddled his thumbs a few times. Something people do when they’re nervous.

“You okay?” I questioned him. I kept my gaze on the road ahead of me.

“Yeah, I’m fine.'' I glanced at him briefly. 

“Okay.. If I did something to upset you, you’d tell me right?” 

“You didn’t do anything, Y/n. I guess I’m just upset our little adventure is coming to an end.”

I giggled at his statement.

“Come on, silly. Don’t be upset over spilled milk. We can hang out another day if you want. I just need to get home to my mother. I need to make sure she’s doing alright. I hope you understand.”

He nodded his head knowingly towards me. We ended up not talking the rest of the ride to his house. The music playing from my speakers was barely noticeable, but it left a good atmosphere between us. 

Chris had told me every turn to take until it was the final one into his driveway. Chris had a nice, big house. One that his parents must have worked very hard for.

“Thank you for today, Y/n. I had fun.” He looked at me before grabbing his bag off the passenger floor. 

“Me too, Chris. Me too.”

He opened the door and before shutting it, he said, “Text me when you get home so I know you made it safe. And be careful, it’s late.”

It was now 9. We spent the whole evening together. A few hours at the cafe and library and about an hour drive to his house. 

“I will, have a good night, Chris.”

He smiled at me and shut the door. I waited for him to get to his front door before beginning to pull out of his driveway. Before I could though, I noticed him wave goodbye to me. I waved back, then headed home for the night.

–

When I got home, mom wasn’t there. She was probably at the bar again. I sighed and went to my room. I grabbed some clothes and went to my bathroom, getting ready for my shower. I picked up my phone off my bedside table and opened Chris’s messages. I sent him a quick text.

I’m home and I made it safely. Not even 10 seconds later, I heard my phone ding. 

Thank God. I was starting to think you got kidnapped or something. I smiled at his message. I walked into the bathroom once again, running the shower on warm water. That would have sucked, wouldn't it?

100%. Then who would I talk to in 3rd hour? Me, myself, and I? I don’t think so.

I put my phone down on the counter by my sink. I stripped out of my clothes before picking it back up. 

If I were you I’d love to talk to myself lol. I waited for a text back for a few minutes, but not one came. I’m going to take a shower. I’ll text you when I’m out.

I shut off my phone and stepped into the warm water. I needed this shower so bad. Today was very, very long. 

When I finished showering, I put on my clothes and grabbed my phone. I went to my bed, getting under the covers and shutting off my light. I checked my messages. He still hadn’t responded. 

It’s nothing, Y/n. Don’t get attached. Don’t wait for his messages. And definitely don’t be upset when he doesn’t text back. 

I wanted to send him another text message, but I didn’t want to seem desperate. I ended up sending him another one anyway. A simple, Goodnight, Chris. Don’t let the bed bugs bite. I internally cringed. Why did I send that?

I shut off my phone and flipped over onto my side. It was time to get some rest. I had work tomorrow and it was already 10. I shut my eyes but when I did, the memory of Chris leaning over me at the library replayed in my head. I thought about what could have happened if my mom hadn’t called me at that moment. What that would have led to. I ended up falling asleep thinking about that. 

[shutupheathersorryheatherr]

"Puppy meets cat" woking title

✰---a/n: um so I disappeared! at least from writing. please enjoy chapter one to a fic with a working title! I’m planning on making this a three chapter fic or maybe just two let’s see how that goes! Don’t know how well this will do so let’s also see how that goes! This is supposed to be like an opposites attract type vibe where Vernon is the shy cat personality and the reader is sorta an excitable puppy personality. anyways please enjoy lovely!

✰---approx: 30 min read ✰---warningz/info: It’s meet cute idk the next chapter is gonna be pure smut I think who knows. Planning on making a non smutty version or just give a rundown of what happened in the theirs chapter for those who can’t read smut so look out for that!

~this is simply a piece of fiction. My imagination onto “paper.” This is in no way is mean to be taken as an actual and real representation of anyone.~

••••••••••••••••

You'd always liked dogs. they were playful, loyal, and often fluffy. what was not to want to cuddle up next to?

You wouldn't want it any other way. that means every time your dog would stall trying to leave for a walk you wouldn't get mad. maybe annoyed, yes. but mad? how could you ever be when two seconds later your dog is wagging its tail and enjoying the fresh air?

and at the little park you like to walk around, you really couldn't be happier either. looking at your dog, so focused as youre walking. even with one ear bud out you weren't paying that much attention. you knew your dog would alert you if there was any suspicious person or animal coming your way. you were so carefree in that moment, as cheesy as it sounds.

that was.... until you tripped straight over something.

well, something and someone, bracing your fall on your hands and landing straight into the hard pavement. you weren't hurt, a very minor scratch on your left palm was the least of your worries. your dogs leash was still tightly gripped into your other hand and as you looked over... phew your dog was fine. in fact, maybe a little too fine with the stranger it was completely fine with. your dog trotted over a second later. with a man, a very good looking one at that, taking a step closer to you on the ground.

you petted your dog on the head as you get up, unknowingly surpassing the kind hand of the guy offering to help you up. once youre on your feet you notice hes... connected to something... a leash? your mind starts scrambling. did you just trip over this cute guys dog? shit shit shit you think. but before you can say anything he speaks up. "are you ok? im so sorry about that. what about your dog?" he seemed more freaked out than you. which was somehow possible.

"oh yeah, dont worry. were good!" you smile, I mean you hand wasn't even hurting, "Im more startled than anything."

he scratches the back of his neck. "no seriously tho. I should've been watching where I was going. I usually walk my cat at a different time when not as many people are out and-- yeah you know."

wait, did he just say walk his cat? you replay it again in you mind and yeah, he just did. you follow that leash the rest of the way to the previously assumed by you to be a dog at the end of it to find... a cat... laying on the pavement. you do a double-- looking back and forth between the holder of that leash and what it was attached to again. take cause how did he just say that like it was the most normal thing in the world? "your Cat?" he chuckles, and it makes you a little distracted, a smile creeping onto your lips. "oh yeah. he doesn't really like--"

"you walk your cat?" you interrupt him. good, he thinks because he was about to go on an entire nervous rant about how his cat hates the leash so then he had to buy a longer one but now hes starting to think that his cat doesn't like leashes in general cause here he is every day in this park dragging his cat along. he blinks at you.

"bro, you dont walk cats..." you chuckle, eyebrows creased almost concerned. he presses his lips "well who are you to tell me what to do? maybe I do?" you rein your dog in closer to the two of you because of a biker zooming past. and to your surprise your dog is perfectly find with the complete stranger, almost cozying up to him. you cock your eyebrow. "oh yeah and how's that going for you?"

he rolls his eyes and sticks out his chin teasingly “oh yeah well at least mine doesn’t pee inside the house” you raised and eyebrow. “Ok but yours does tho?” You’re honestly really confused as to what he’s talking about. Did he fall too?? Was his head damaged? “Don’t cats use litter boxes that are, I dunno, inside?” He bursts out laughing. And suddenly you’re out at ease, even with the small scratch on your hand and even tho your dog is loving up to the stranger making you feel a little jealous. You stoped and shamelessly stared for a second too long. You finally got a minute to take him in. not just his soft spoken demeanor, but everything. his dark brown hair somehow shined in the sun along with his deep eyes. Ones you could spend so long mapping out— intricately crafted like out of the bark of a tall healthy mahogany tree.

“I’m just messing with you. Your dog is super cute by the way!” He comments. You look at your dog, sniffing this stranger with a cat none the less and wagging its tail. “Aw thanks! So is your cat— cuddly looking just like its owner haha. I have to admit I usually don’t like cats but yours seems really chill” he ducks his head muttering a thank you in a deep blush before saying “yeah duh. Chill is one way to put it.” he grumbles, though looking at his pet with a smile. it had made its way over to you two. now more awake and seeming happy to bee there. "well im glad!" he smiles, "and they aren't trying to go at each others necks." he observes with a chuckle. you take another glance at the two cutie fluffy babies-- actually playing together peacefully.

and then... you look back at him. if this wasn't a good sign you dont know what is.

youre about to say something, feel him out a little, maybe ask to meet your pets up for a play date and be a little bold. but his eyes travel to your palm. and he almost drops his leash. hes usually calm cool and just pretty chill, at least thats what his friends would describe him as. but now hes kinda freaking out. in one quick motion, he scoops up his cat and guides you to sit down on the park bench running off, yelling back at you that hes gonna go get you a bandage.

as he bolted into the store he didnt even care that it probably was illegal to bring your pet in there. he paid no mind to any weird looks because oh god how did he not realize you were bleeding? I mean, it wasn't much, but he still felt rally bad.

"I had no idea you were bleeding! im so sorry bro." he gently takes your hand in both his after he sets down the plastic bag from the local drugstore. you look around you in mild embarrassment as your cheeks heats up when he gets on one knee in front of you. a couple passersby smiled at the both of you and you were frozen.

"take me out to dinner first. damn. already proposing?" you try to laugh through the embarrassment as he puts the ointment on your scratch with a q-tip. his touch was feather light, and your body was in flames once again.

he laughs, "oh yeah youre kinda right." so now after siting down next to you, he peels open the bandage and places it over the very minor cut. again, to be honest it was only a little bit of blood. you had no idea why he was freaking out so much. him on the other hand? couldn't feel worse. he had just mad a very nice a pretty person bleed! he was gonna ask to walk your pets again sometime... now how the hell were you gonna say yes? he had hoped you didnt noticed his clammy forehead or shaky hands.

but to his surprise after he lifts his head... you smile at him. and he can't help but smile back

"this is too much! it wasn't that bad!" he shakes his head, "but you were bleeding!"

"barely."

"any blood is bleeding." you roll your eyes cutely,

"ok fine. agree to disagree."

he suddenly remembers what else is in the plastic bag and quickly plops it in your lap. with a shake of your head you pull out the contents. "you got the fancy water?! shiiiitt ok!" you admire the Fiji water bottle like its gold, holding it up to the sun. "only the best" he playfully nudges you, like a cat trying to get your attention to incise you to play. "had to make up for the scratch somehow.

the conversation goes from you two talking about how this is the best place to walk your pets even though his doesn't really um... walk. but hey, its still a great place to drag your cat you guess.

“see my cat is cuter than me. Somehow you’re cuter than your pet tho” as he’s dabbing a clean tissue on the scrape of your palm. you look up at him-- hair falling in his eyes. a shame really, you wanted to keep looking at those pretty eyes. "Paw Patrol?" you chuckle, even though hes not looking at you. he snickers, "listen, marshal and Skye are adorable." he pours a little water on your cut to clean it.

"you know their names?" "of course I do! come on the show is literally about animals!" he says playfully as he lays the sticky tabs of the bandaid on your skin, then gently pats them down. all the while youre trying not to notice how one hand is gripping your hand in his by the wrist, his pointer finger running up the center of the the back of your hand, thumb on the side of it entirely. his hands are... big, god are the big, but they're gentle and soft. and thats what makes it so hard to concentrate on responding to him.

"I guess I need to brush up on my tv watching then." it didnt come out as unbothered as you wanted it too but you doubt he even paid attention to that by the way hes smoothing out the bandaid and opening your water bottle for you. he finally looks up at you and shakes his head slightly, wordless for a moment, eyes squinting cause of the sun setting behind you.

it was like it was trying to tell him something

"what? no... this is a show about dogs" he says it, albeit jokingly with such seriousness. like he was setting you in on a fib protected secret or something. "no I couldn't tell from the police dog on the front of the box." you laugh. "I forgot that ones name but its a good show" he taps his chest "trust." you smile and nod at him as he gets up. "I'll give you my Disney account password, this is very important." you take a nervous swig of the water he opened then handed to you. "fill watch it then get back to you." you smile. at him, and he nods

somehow someway the two of you started walking along the parks path again. right along side each other. "so please, oh wise man, tell me all the lore from paw patrol" you laugh next to him as the silence got a little awkward. "or you could just watch the show!" he quips.

everything started to get better form then on out. his cat excitedly trotted along, keeping up with your dog who was as calm as ever. and really, neither of you were complaining. even when you two walked the entire park.... again... and again, and three more times. ending up at a little bench to rest your legs, though it really was just an excuse he'd made because any longer on his feet and hes literally fall for you and make a big fool of himself landing in front of you. not because he was tired. in fact he doesn't think hes ever felt more awake, not wanting to blow his chance, wanting to make a good impression. so really, this was to help his wobbly knees he got whenever you open your mouth.

your voice was ethereal. and it made something inside him spark in a way he never quite felt before. and well... he doesn't think he'll be able to get you out of his head when he gets home that evening, so he doesn't leave. not even when the conversation gets a little dry, but never awkward just in each others presence.

and for that same reason you dont get up from that bench you two sit on, overlooking the pretty landscape, and maybe sneaking the occasional glance at each other. your pets were cutely playing with each other like an adorable Pinterest video at this point so really... for the sake of your dog, how could you leave?!

and also for that same reason you turn to him fully, smiling and swallowing that wad of spit that was building up in your throat just thinking about this for the last thirty minutes. "hey its... its getting pretty late." you comment. he turns to you. "oh yeah youre right! sorry about that youve probably got shit to do that doesn't include sitting here." you smile wider at hi, leaning down and folding yourself in half, elbows on your thighs and chin in your hands. oh god why'd he have to be this cute while being stupid?

you had half a mind to invite this total stranger to your place for the night, your dogs old pet bed would be perfect for his cat as he himself slept in yours. but that would probably be ya know a tad bit too bold. and it sounded like it might just slightly scare him off. besides, a fun little chase is fun. "im not bored or anything, watching our pets have fun is fun to me." you say as if you aren't just enjoying being with him just as much. "they'll probably miss each other." he comments, one hundred percent not also talking about the two of you.

(absolutely not what do you mean???? thats weird of you to even think that.)

"hm, they will." you turn back to him. away from your frolicking dog and his cat, suddenly breathing heavy as the sunset glow illuminates his features, roses hues he hopes you'll blame on the sky. "maybe we should set up a play date for them... they seem to really like each other."

he nods his head in agreement, he can't pry his eyes off of you. and lets be real, does he really want to? "yeah" he clears his throat then repeats, "yeah. for the pets-- can't stop their fun can we?" he chuckles. "for the pets" you agree, almost like youre convincing yourself. and with that, you two set up a day to meet up right where you fell in a couple days.

and as you pry your dog away from its new friend found in his cat, you think "maybe opposites do attract"

~end~

I hope y'all enjoy chapter one!! who the hell knows when chapter 2 will be up I make no promises that it will be soon lmao

Taglist: @bamtorin

[catboygirljoker]

*crashes through the ceiling* Hi, hello! 💜 I saw you have a KH OC and I love listening about people's OCs, so I have questions:

How did Lamia fall in love with Xigbar? How do their relationship look like? Do they live together and have any domestic life? What does Xigbar think of Lamia?

!!!!!!!!! ourghghghh thank you!! :o) !!!!!!!!!!!!!

i am in the process of writing a novel-length fanfiction that answers all of these questions tee hee. i am clinging on to bitter hope that i will actually be able to write and finish it because i just. really love lamia and xigbar and i really love their relationship in my brain. like im way too verbose to pitch "xiglam" in a way that feels satisfying to me so i have to just write a 100k+ fic and gesture at that and say THAT. THEM. THEY

(though my lamiaposting tag has some art by me and my lovely partner that illustrates at least some of why i love them. smile.)

also oops i hyperfocused and made a xiglam moodboard (featuring art from my partner, depicting them multiple years into their mutual loving relationship). i just. smiling at them and kicking my feet.

long long answer under the cut tee hee

broadly they fall in love because they are both fucked up in ways that happen to mesh together really well. lamia is depressed, self-destructive, prickly, and isolated, and though he has friends who love him dearly (and who he loves dearly!) they try to get him to take care of himself by being like "you have people who care about you" "youre a person and that means you deserve to be happy" etc. and that just. doesnt compute for lamia. he has a million reasons why none of that works for him.

then along comes some fuckin weird old guy in a black coat, a pragmatic and cynical asshole who just laughs at lamia and goes "if you dont get some sleep or eat something soon youre going to straight up die. then what'll you do. idiot" and it works. it shortcuts all of the usual walls they have up against any well-meaning advice and enables them to actually take care of themself in basic ways.

on the flip side, lamia is the first person in a very long time who has sincerely surprised xigbar. xigbar believes that the universe is inherently cruel, indifferent, miserable, painful. and that friendship, hope, altruism, goodness, kindness, all of that, is a result of people either not understanding the true nature of the universe or willfully ignoring it. he clocks lamia immediately as someone who understands firsthand how miserable and painful the universe can be and that their self-destructiveness is a result of that trauma. and he thinks he understands them completely because of that.

however. despite the Horrors, despite being the Bearer of a Curse, despite his Tragic Backstory, despite despite despite—lamia still believes that there is goodness in the world worth fighting for. he may be in many ways pragmatic and cynical like xigbar is, but he also believes fundamentally in friendship. hope. altruism. all of it. that (and a few other Lore things) are deeply intriguing to xigbar.

it also really helps that lamia's into dilfs and xigbar's into blond twinks. and that lamia's pissy argumentative streak (a paper-thin veil for his genuine affection for the old man) is fun and endearing to xigbar. they complement each other in Themes ways but they also just have a dynamic i really like thinking about. :3

they wouldnt have an opportunity to even consider living together or having a domestic life until both of their personal arcs are resolved (they both have to Deal with their Pasts and having been abused/abandoned/neglected by their guardians). "post-canon" i imagine xigbar isnt really capable of settling down and having a "normal life." he lives with lamia but hes frequently gone without warning, wandered off somewhere, like a stray cat you can get to eat on your porch but can never get to come inside.

but theyre happy. they Heal. xigbar eventually moves into a replica once his current body starts failing on him. lamia gains a bunch of weight (positive) and goes on T. they get a cat or something. but they never get married (lamia doesnt see the point) and never have kids (these two should NOT be parents it would be a catastrophe)

[arttrampbelle]

Don't buy or go by anything nrs be selling in mk12/mk1

It completely ruins all the characters,lore,and build up over the 30+yrs it's been around.

Go by your own stories and be done with it.

Rejecting "canon" and not buying their games is the best thing to do now as a fan.

Besides we got more important things to do than that rn. (Even as a mk fan i hate what they are doing to shang tsung. They are legitimately ruining him by trying to make him like every other fucking character BUT his own)

So yeah your hcs now? Cool,not my cup of tea nessicarly,but I'd sooner take them than whatever nrs is doing atm. For the most part i like what people be cooking.

Because guess what? Fans know they character sadly better than the current writers. Why? Because they give a fuck.

Not all of them truly encapsulates the character. But by god they get his gusto,his energy,and his hutspa so to speak. They understand the fundamentals and core basis of the character. They understand nuance and not making him to be a copy paste of every other villain and antag in the Franchise.

AND THEY DON'T BLAME HIM FOR THE CURSES AND PROBLEMS HE'S IN. mortal kombat is a brutal world. But nrs sure dont fucking act like it. Shang tsung is a fucking survivor. Period. Dark magic is actually honestly in that world,at least it makes sense to be. The fucking most destructive,easy,force. And what better way to dispose of a foe? You guessed it,soul magic and spells to absolutely obliterate your opponents.

Im not saying he didn't have consequences. Oh of course. But nrs writes it now so fucking cheesy and takes the easy route.

Yes he has set backs. But it's not because of his own doing. No. It is technically the gods fault. Thats how it's been. It's actually pointing out that he was put into this position. And they were mad he took a different path. It's legitimately going against what you are told you should do. And doing what you personally feel is right for you not what society or peers tell you is "acceptable"

God ffs people. Shang tsung is so fucking luciferian coded it's not even funny. But y'all at nrs misinterpreted that (and some fans too).

Like i could go on about the complexities of shang tsung and how i feel fucking nrs/boon/and the like do not fucking deserve such an amazing and deep antagonist like shang tsung. But I'd be here all day.

I'll leave it at.

Mk12/mk1 shang tsung sucks outside of his voice and aesthetics. Nothing else of the character is truly worth it. Some ideas for him are best left to be in the draft paper. And never touched until someone with a brain,media literacy and respect can't write him. Whomever that may be.

He can be driven to madness by soul magic. But that's not what kickstarts it. No the gods put him in a corner and the only way out was to rip n tear. Literally. Like he made his hell his home. He was emperor of his dominion. He is lord of souls(basically). Like he said "fine you want bad!? I'll show you bad!!!" And bad he became. But deep down,he doesn't want this. He wants peace. He wants to live,he can't. Because the gods won't let him because he plays the game better than them. Like i have so many fucking ideas for him and i feel that everytime i see someone,fans or offical sources say something that just feels like it could have been for another character and fits another character better. It pisses me off.

Like shang is amazing,but either actually write some for him,and his character,that actually fits or make an oc or write it on another character.

Ugh.

Anyways enough rambling.

Some fans and especially netherealm studios don't fucking deserve this character

I just have so many ideas. And so much to say about this characters persona and the intricacies on shang's mind and good fucking god i wish i could safely infodump with someone. Especially on HOW HE BECAME WHO HE IS AND HONESTLY I HAVE SUCH A CAREFULLY CRAFTED BACKSTORY FOR SHANG TSUNG. And how his well magic works and WHY he's such a master at it. I wish i could infodump with someone fr.

I have so much love for this character. I wanna write for mortal kombat so bad. But at very least for shang tsung.

Good lord.

[orange-orchard-system]

hi i hope this isnt weird. saw a mut rb your 'creative folk having characters talk to them' post and now im like of like. Oh.

ive had some plural friends clock me as 'vaguely plural' / had people assume i'm a system so im like. im having a 'perhaps my experiences are in fact, not universal' moment.

ive just never felt like it fits the bill for plurality, because ive always had a pretty tight grip on 'me' being the pilot / dont have altars switch out/in to talk like i see so often. its complex definitely but i guess im asking if there's any good resources for someone like me :?

(you can answer this privately or publicly, i dont mind either way)

Hi! Not weird at all. I see this somewhat often when people come to me about questioning if they're plural, and I think it comes from a lack of information about just how varied plurality can be. So, let me go over what your situation reminds me of.

Firstly, yes, there are resources for what you're talking about – and communities, too. There are plenty of systems who rarely or never switch, and they're called specutien systems and/or systems with P-DID (Partial Dissociative Identity Disorder). These systems may not experience full switches – as in, a total loss of control followed by someone else having full control – but they may experience switches where someone else has partial control, or are otherwise "close enough" to be able to communicate/affect them in some way without taking any control. These are known as co-fronting and co-consciousness respectively, and it's specifically what "talking to your characters" reminds me of.

There's also, of course, the possibility that you are experiencing full switches and are just forgetting due to amnesia, but if you don't have noticeable memory issues (noticeable by yourself or others, I should note, since the fun part of forgetting is you forget that you forgot), this probably isn't something to be too concerned about. If it is and/or you want to cover all your bases, try keeping a regular journal and see if there's any large gaps you can't explain.

Honestly, I recommend the journal for general purpose, too. It's a very useful tool for communicating, especially if you can't or don't switch; you can write down what your alters say to keep track of conversations, making sure you don't forget or mix up what was said, and use it as a sort of "evidence book" to yourself, especially if you add in other little details that support the idea that you're plural (such as, in your case, others assuming you're plural, too). Even if you've talked to your alters before, learning to talk to them as alters can be a new challenge to get used to, so try what techniques catch your eye and don't be afraid to take your time figuring yourself/ves out.

Of course, there's always the possibility that you're not plural, in the end, but hey, you're looking to learn something, ain't ya? Whether you are or aren't plural, you'll learn more about that aspect of yourself, and probably learn more about systems along the way.

To recap: specutien, P-DID, co-fronting, co-consciousness. Those are the four things I recommend you most look into, but you may find other topics or terms that you think may also fit you, so don't be afraid to explore those. Just looking up those terms on Tumblr will get you some folks talking about their own experiences, but there's also Pluralpedia as a wiki for plural terms, and at least two, maybe three, of those terms have been mentioned in academic and clinical papers about plurality, if you want to read those.

Hope this helps! Good luck figuring out yourself/ves!

[toinfinitywinning]

this is get to know you time. the cringy name game at every camp in the world you do with toilet paper. enough.

Conversations and thoughts resembling the same level of random and incongruence of my Apple Music library. like Josh Groban is to Eminem: Mercy Me. a lot about everything that’s not a hashtag bc it just needs more attention.

Let the first (post) be first:

Hi. I’ve never done this before (like a seriously grown up blog on purpose. Just when just followed sad somewhat desperate poetry with a random live-laugh-love meme in there somewhere.) and Pitch Perfect.

BUT.

For 2 years I’ve had Long-Haul COVID. It’s a different kind of lonely

Thanks so much, amirite? —Gen-Z apologies if I didn’t use that jumbled acronym-word correctly.

It’s hard to keep up.

See? What am I talking about now and how did I get there…

Due to a very common symptom of LHC…

Again—hard to keep up. It’s there. Tho

And I have a lot of quirk so it’s possible I think you’ll “get” but are just nice not to tell me

BUT.

It’s already gone. Train left the Station yesterday.

Slipped on a penny.

Not Good. not even funny.

Teens with the gorgeous graffiti have to Go elsewhere. I’ve always been jealous of that kind talent.

Whole lot better than something else shiny thrown on the track and it’s derailed. There’s at least some innocence in a paint can.

WOW.

I have major attention and Brain Fog hurdles to conquer or shortly bypass. You might not be able to tell b/c of how My writing jumps around so infrequently.

Not true but still easier.

Mostly innocent and playful.

Sadly the attention part is this many years young.

Writing comes naturally. As it always has, strangely...

And why is healing so exhausting? Writing is therapeutic but My body says—can you not?

i know im not the only one asking that!

As if I have time for that too.

find a community of people suffering just as similarly and gain strength, tips and tricks.

Just, speak-screen edit my writing for me. Maybe a clarification fact-✔.

Just not wherever Tr*mp gets his.

Could be Truth Social. Monthly fee tho will cost you your Red Hat.

MYGAbad

Speaking I struggle with processing w/e skills I must have held onto.

BUT.

Since 2 years is quite. some. time.—I’ve shared many struggles and victories.

Like a Bell curve. Or a punk Domino falling then lining them up takes longer just to go down again in half the time. Repeat.

It’s very likely I Will try to talk about many things at once.

I really can’t help that. LOL.

Jury’s still out but I get most of my writing and miscellaneous musings from mom.

Dad can write the best, longest, and precious prayers and notes.

Almost delicately but like you KNOW he’s giving you a hug.

A Good mix tape’s paper Version.

Enter Run on sentences. Truly a stream by now.

Although my brain muscle is weak I’ve been encouraged by several people to Start a blog. Someday I’ll include the past 2 years of w/e pics are on other SocMed.

I can’t think of anything worse.

Yea, okay LOL.

Judgment free. Occasionally… like normal doses then have to work through that.

Mostly that’s because I knew nothing about anything before I opened My computer and started sharing My thoughts under zero context ridden or form at all.

More likely as well to offend and piss someone off. Well done you’re now one less friend popular. There’s an App for that tho-tracking people Who don’t like you.

Not sure where I’ll land with this. It may not land you either.

Because like a lot of us. Sometimes you don’t get to talk actually. No Room.

I like routine; that’s out. So it gets dull.

I’ve learned I hadn’t yet given myself the space to see all of things I can do sitting down.

But. By “given” I mean to say that perhaps I didn’t know it was there.

One Good thing I’ve gathered from this Hell.

Hell fresh by the Day! Never frozen.

So at that time and in this case of my life; sitting is fine.

Some of it isn’t too bad. The writing. You will find questionable punctuation. Run on sentences that I was running.

Relevance at all.

All around Confusion…altho connect the dots could have been seen as practice.

Or annoying even. I’d have no words.

I truly don’t set out to be funny. I could never do stand-up or improv. Or act.

Humor forced just takes and receives too much energy that might come off insincere.

Nothing on command.

Like Matt Perry’s brilliant improv wit it just doesn’t hit the same.

B/c it was scripted.

A syllabus for it Imagine.

The horn to jump off the swim block.

It’s when Life feels more scripted a lot of people close up.

That’s because you’re not in charge anymore. I’ve lost the Power.

Don’t prefer caring about whether someone likes me like I used to.

I believe you can snooze me for 30 days or say ‘I’m done w/ her’ and send Me to the cyberarchives.

Okay. Okay.

So—90% of the time I’m witty and sarcastic with a bit of cynicism, discomfort (for you), and pettifogging.

I write primarily about the questions of intersectionality.

How do things fit.

Let’s Fit it.

Until I figured out physics and calculus and basic math were behind a career in architecture and the classes I would have to take, I enjoyed taking things apart to make something else.

Not always pretty.

Could be Good what I took apart was the best thing we can’t see.

Like I’m writing questions but with wisdom not meaning to do that either,

A lot of people don’t like that. You do you! Baby.

I don’t mean to be at all harsh or hurtful. I try not to say that anything vainly.

I say it b/c a lot of what I’m writing is all of every piece of stream of consciousness tallied.

And it was a synapse connecting another.

Maybe that’s the creative part? The other side of My Brain is telling Me to ✔ on the other side so I’m like…crickets.

What I write is stream of consciousness, brutally honest and to some might be lightly offensive. In College writing this Way would’ve absolutely driven Me crazy.

Then life steps in and bonks u on the head with a newspaper but 15 years later returns the favor with an iPhone.

Or too blunt. And comes across as harsh. And that’s mostly because if I don’t have an emoji to match my real-life broken ღ I’m breaking up with you.

Self reflection: impulsive

I used to journal so much growing up.

When did I lose that innocence?

We can’t talk about folding paper into cranes and witchcraft finger fortune games anymore?

No more MASH?

Huh, maybe you weren’t born this Way. Ur Parents just drew circles nearest each other or your apple stem twist broke too soon and you want a partner whose name starts with P.

Very often I overshare. If you’re reading this this is not brand new information. No ability to say things simply. Think I’ve already. That can put me really vulnerable to more bitcoin hacks.

And then you need to figure out what bitcoin is. And whether Mario can collect coins as well in place of the hackers.

I’d say ask Tom Brady b/c of his investments but since retirement he’s been pretty deflated.

Mean people that mean to hurt.

First of all I feel sorry for you. Not in a poor you tho.

People Who hurt on purpose don’t often have any Way to vent or get a rise other than evoke feelings in and deflect toward a schoolmate.

Skip back to the part I tried talking about vulnerability. It truly is the invisible cloak and no one can see you but nothing makes sense still and you’ve only fixed what’s on the outside. Now you’re peeved AND cloaked.

At this conjunction junction next I’d suggest try shopping at Target opposed to Abercrombie then.

Feet in the water right above bankruptcy to see how things could be different only what…if?

Good ♧ seriously.

So there’s more grace given when you fall. When it’s not your month Day or even year!

Nobody is there for you!!

And My cloak is getting rained on.

Maybe gathering strength from falling will come a common sense with a 6th one but with seriously meaningful things I’ve learned and less hard knock’s Life for us.

The hard Way.

The bottom’s still there and it actually stinks stinks. Discouraging b/c there are two sides to the bottom of the cave full of stalagTITES and mites.

All the up’s and down’s. Right there. And the COVID-19 bat OMG!

You know you may not be able to fall any further further but once you’re up again you’re wondering whether you should get some cement to close that thing off.

Choose to live! But welcome to the real world—it sucks—ur gonna Love it.

Almost 4got. In the cave you dont always have to wait for Jesus to be resurrected if that metaphor comforts you but if change comes and it requires a whole new worm can of Life we already can’t handle that gets us outta the dank I don’t think we need to ask permission to the rights of that Bible passage.

BUT.

Until YOU are ready for change...

Forget it. At least you meant well. Someone can guide that horse to water but it stays pretty hydrated, so he says he’s Good. Promise. The only talking animal and it was Me Who got to hear it. More importantly, who’s gonna ☊? Care? There’s a country song finding out Who your Friends are. A lot stay lost and it’s not helpful all our Friends aren’t the same.

Missing a Good chance to find out if you’re in a similar predicament and that not always a bad thing.

At times I have literally had to be lifted off the floor.

I don’t do this at all for pity. As you read, My Pride is the biggest obstacle to let Go.

When you do?

The hard way through this.

I am angry and irritable for bouts. Sometimes I’m silly and invite karma punishments.

Go all Brimstone and every type fire and the Old Testament has nothing New-thinking and no one new to add to it. SMH. Nail a list on the wooden church door reading it is nearing endgame. Or, Just open your hotel drawer and tear out the back half.

So change then— If it were Me and it has been just not an actual hole I’d be outta there due to the spiders and crickets alone. Jiminy’s Cool.

If u can’t change and just stay a novice bunny hill—fine! Stay there. Build some confidence through experience.

And isn’t that another thing? Something specific motivates the fire under your (cuckoo!) and before you’d see the dark without any End of the tunnel and more importantly with the light aspect. All the sudden you care b/c what? It applies to you of course be selfish. Fascinating yet humbling.

Then there’s the ‘Why Me’ (?) phase? Not fully pitiful but just pretentious enough to resume the trailblaze. Bad attitude with a healthy dose of are we there yet and trying to Balance whether someone is saying …’they get it; you always feel bad’ so…KY Basketball banter? Ashamed accompanies too bc thing is a few times I did kind of scoff at phrases like I always feel bad. Like, here’s 2 Extra strength Tylenol.Alright, Ok, come test for Covid 1/29/22. It shouldn’t take going through something to empathize with or change but you could’ve listened for longer with a clear mind. Just cannot wrap your head around it and I think sometimes that’s okay. What’s next I’ll try so hard.

+ It’s 12:01am of 1/29/24 (so last night), you still can’t do math and/or struggle to add or subtract 12 so aren’t entirely sure its your sophomore year orientation, and you already surrender to what you didn’t want to get up for in the first place. Kind of silly u set the alarm! B/c Pain, confusion, Discomfort and a Deep loneliness that has very little to do with people awaits. That whole scenario is a disaster but look who’s standing and GOT. UP. period. 15 years ago that’s where I’d be. Just defeated.

THAT. Is enough some days. I say that to you struggling to believe the same but know Deep down.

Year 2 longhaul and youre wondering why there are anniversaries at all given about half are always sad or tragic. Evoking the worst on what could be the best. Might be something To think 2 minutes ago you’d ended your prayer to have a better Day. Of anything is true about everything happens for a reason I’d say having to chooose how to respond given you have the privilege at all to that just means were normal. B/c ill be honest I would not

I’m angry. WHAT is so complicated about your lack of Faith or belief prayer must go into an encrypted iCloud even the FBI can’t retrieve or interpret. Never had a chance! But I’ll add that it’s worth noting prayer doesn’t deal with its existence in transaction currencies..

Feel less Pain but feel more with it or stronger now. Or, just plain ‘ol numb. Similar to Addiction I suppose people get so used to being healthy one Way or another they don’t even notice better OR worse and no one is getting married.

Truth is.

Yea.

I’m in Hell, but I’m not on a ventilator. I’m not without relentless Support.

I still can smile but laugh just a bit before it hurts.

Something is always worse.

SomeONE is doing worse.

Somewhere and definitely rn.

I never knew I’d be dealing greed of perspective for this Long.

Something you’ll never find out about that changed your life’s trajectory where an explanation would have only confused things.

Then we still have the chance to be astonished and then genuine bc of that. Thankful. Expectant. With Faith somehow. Maybe carrying someone else’s Hope for a while might burden you less for a short time.

You dont need to see eye struggle and suffering. You dont need examples. You just know. There’s a fleeting peace u might not see again for 2 days but in knowing it’s not just you with the same bs going on.

Like here. Here is someone who needs support but in a different Way but how unique it could be to trade just for a bit. It’s not leg day this time remember u agreed a temp trade.

We don’t have to know everything. Most of the time I don’t give God the time to keep up w/ Me let alone do anything miraculous before I just hang up.

Although My Life was headed in a completely renewed direction in so many ways of recovery—

I got sick. Not because it was meant to be.

Because COVID. Possibly a rabid bat. Cracked vile or petri-dish

Everything does not happen for a reason and ppl dont like hearing that bc its an easy out. Says time might go on but this thorn wont ever heal. How do we respond? that’s the most authentic and a strength yes or no wand.

I hate cliché. Thing is tho…I think we all hate it b/c it doesn’t hold us accountable. Eh it’s fine.

Unfortunately we wouldn’t have the pretty, surprise, one of the Walk to Remember walks. All up to the of healing and forgiveness individual to each of us.

If for Me that means ive healed all I can and I’m counting on research to help Me out some more maybe I just keep going. Trust Me nothing is forgotten but you do know now that at least you were strong and capable enough to figure all that at all. And—I can do that. Some days aren’t that kind.

Maybe it becomes a goal we never anticipated but ✔ your resilience at the ticket line and saddle up, honey.this donkey only holds ____ lbs. let some things Go. That thing will still only walk in a circle but you’ve evenly distributed your baggage.

The feeling of pure joy. Which btw does still require a thesaurus b/c it is NOT the same as joy. Like a preventative Med to an acute one.

Then feel Accomplishment.

Not knowing what’s next but trying to be prepared.

It’s a surprise party we never RSVP’d and don’t regret it.

And it’s a Good thing u got outbid for that yacht.

Hell, tho, you won’t be forgotten but pushing helps the donkey move faster for now that is acceptable.

Unshun. Reshun. (This will make sense if you Watch the Office)

Flee fly. Be gone. Thankfully we hope to come out more resilient after the rip and tear and often not fully repaired sewing lessons.

But perhaps the biggest trait I’ve had to work on is My Pride. I want to do it.

I’ll give myself 3 strikes. 4 balls.

Then I walk to First.

Please do not get Me a gift.

I Love you and that was so sweet.

Would I be as generous?

Do u work, yea. It’s just one really hurts more and being tough isn’t tough at all if it’s not helping the worst hurt.

Those are sitting down, timeout thoughts.

The compression socks need to breathe.

But once the Pride slides over, let go, I get to know how it feels to very tangibly be taken care of and watched over.

Patience. The other side of a rant.

Later on that.

My main goal is to learn. Connect. Be called out if something comes off really tasteless.

Laugh at things that don’t have anything to do with being chronically sick. Laugh about what Medicine u had to administer and royally failed.

Sometimes all coupled with a handicap car-tag. No crutches either b/c I don’t like hearing I Will get better. It is a nice statement but it is impossible to be sure. Ive struggled with that b/c I know everyone believes that and means well I’ve just taken prior sick Gentry’s generalization and multiplied.

I am not making light. I think part of me is using the sarcasm as a coping mechanism.

Praise God there is something that does help the pain or at least distract from that Pain just not the one in your legs.

A codependency just a bit less severe. Embarrassing. Reason for judgment. Too easy.

If you can believe it—-I am not the same person I was 2 years ago.

For now I truly don’t know how. Pain can leave, anything traumatic can be worked on. You’ve got your scars.

I actually really think a scar is just unique as a snowflake or fingerprint. Telling so many stories. B/c a scar does mean something has healed. And it never forgets at one time it was painful. I’d prefer to see what I accomplish but I see wonder and beauty in them.

Things get pretty deep, complicated and downright pitifully sad. Vulnerable. Frighteningly true and relevant.

So I take what Good I can get in that day and pray those with LHC (Long-Haul COVID-19)

Be released.

However. On the flip tail’s side.

I’m 35 years aware there are some people who just don’t like me.

Until recently I wouldn’t have meant ‘sorry not sorry.’

I do now. To a respectable extent.

Reader discretion is advised. I promise I never set out to hurt anyone.

definitely not on purpose.

Because. Idgaf. Not bars being held. Que sera, sera.

complete transparency and seriously tho this doesn't mean i dont care. i wear my heart on my sleeve like a ding-dong ready to get hurt.

call it a diversion. we were on a break.

i just might take all of whatever hits wrong and turn that in to whatever ounce of assurance I can with the openness and to the best capability to learn new things and grow with compassion.

And back to writing—may already be just engrained but I don’t ever have a thesis, 3 supporting ideas or a better word then a conclusion.

You might find yourself confused. Reading it again prob won’t help.

Some will be really bad. Ugly. Waste of time. it was at least therapeutic for me.

Already is.

Even more might not make sense.

Read at your own risk, basically.

I have confidence but not really. Just enough not to care to change.

But I think about it. Because I’m wrong a lot.

challenge me. ill try to get through the fog.

But a lot of things have changed. in ways i might not even know Beauty in the Mess.

To sum up the above (sorry, there won’t be another summary after this disclaimer’s commercial intermission.)

I want to be as positive as possible.

Be in control of what I can. Ask for help for what I cannot.

I’m so ready to get My Life back. Trust Me and trust anyone Who tells your theyre in constant pain.

Really embarrassing I used to kind of scoff and be empathetic.

Funny how youre so sure of things.

Until it happens to you.

Suddenly it’s back to the drawing board and humility.

I wear my ღ on my sleeve. My greatest superpower and kryptonite.

What you read is as close to what you get as possible.

Balance can be unfair.

Please know that I care. I try harder than I ever had before. There are things I didn’t even Imagine could happen to someone when sick.

In all the ways I want to come out of this even better than what I envy I was entering into when I got sick.

There will be a WIDE range of thoughts similar to how i write. Mostly Sports and public figures and the politics I can comprehend.

B/c I know there’s someone out there who’s homeless because of this diagnosis. Or was deadly. Fired.

Divorced.

Ive become a bit of a nerd. Childish in some ways b/c you have to be creative…to be creative.

How do I even Start philosophizing that? So I don’t.

So I try My best to be the best I can. Inspire. Elicit laughter and new ways of thinking.

Questions.

Really tho? I just wanna be me.

thank you so sincerly to anything fromn a meme to a gift to a hug a prayer a smile, company, vibes if they can travel

but most of all

for holding hope when ive not been strong enough to.

For better or worse

for loving me.

making me feel heard.

idk what tomorrow holds but if its the same as today ill know at least i can make it and i am still beyond blessed and cared for and loved unconditionally.

even if forever.

wanna feel free, free.

to be me unabandoned.

changed for the better without knowing it.

some people dont have that option.

or even less the resource or safety to write about it.

Lastly mostly—I’m thankful for Insurance and the ability and privilege to work from home. And. Still have a job in general.

A Family and Family reserves holding me.

gentry.gonna.gents/g3

next. and if you made it this far, bless you.

thank you.

you mean more than you know to me. to anyone miscellaneous thanks as well and to my family and extended family and friends and job and insurance.

im in better shape than a lot. perspective sucks in the throes. selfish not selfish but my gosh turn the lights off. each journey is sooo different, but idk find the goodness and inspiration inbtw. There will be a rainbow soon enough, I wont make the bold claim and promise you one tho,

semi lastly and vulnerably, we've all been hurt. all going through something.

I say this every time something really bad happens. Ya know the ‘this is even worse,’ talk.

This one holds every candle.

Funny not funny none are the same and you’re never fully prepared.

and no one knows what it is you’re dealing.

give grace when I can’t sometimes.

cliché’s be damned lets just golden rule it b/c that one’s hard to do too but it sounds cute and Idont see a periodic table saying A! U! Be nice and welcoming.

I know I’ve forgotten something.

So I’ll fight.

But I still get to complain.

Feeling so entitled to this ill.

Sincerely,

Gentry

no ps you're welcome

[chesters-ocs]

i guess this can go on this blog. im so rusty at writing whoopsies lol. this became its own thing. it was supposed to end at the ocean but. yknow how it be

wc: 1.2k

soulmate au: compass tattoo showing the direction of your soulmate

@the-whispers-of-death heres our boys

"Come on, we… we should go to the hotel. They're not here and, well… I think it's safe to say you won't be meeting them for a good while. But on the good side, we did it! We're in Lisbon. And.. I guess now you can rest easy knowing that yours is probably just.. straight across from here!"

All Sylvester could do was grunt as his friend reassured him. Ever the damn optimist, he thought.

"I.. do suppose you're right. Let's go, I think I need a smoke… Any stores nearby?" he asks, trying to get his mind off the disappointment he felt.

What a depressive way to start the day, he mused to himself. Both of them have been on the road for four days. Four! In a shitty, rusty camper van, just in the off-chance to meet Sylvester's soulmate. Only to be met with a sun too bright rising on an ocean that's too big for its own good.

At least Ainārs is staying ever so cheery, Sylvester thought. It had been a longtime goal of his to see the ocean, so at least he's getting joy out of this.

The bulkier man roughly pats him on the back, grinning, as he speaks: "Oh don't be so down! We've only been looking for what, two, three years? It took my parents seven just to meet!" he offered, eyes shining in the morning sun. It was almost impossible to not scoff at the words, but he knew better than to say anything. No use in arguing either.

"So… cigarettes?" Sylvester brought up again, and Ain��rs nodded, but not before slipping in a small tease: "Only if you promise to not empty the pack in a day again-!"

A small shove cut him off, at least, and he backed off, chuckling.

Over the years, it seemed that the silver haired man forgot all about soulmates. His intuition told him to give up, after all. To find happiness elsewhere. Unfortunately for him, all he got is divorce papers thrown in his face and a kid to look after which only served as a sour reminder of the woman who left him for someone with a bigger wallet.

Though now, he considered the parting as nothing short of a miracle. A butterfly effect that seemed to so easily work in his favor, he had to have been dreaming. Sure, he thought Ainārs was insane when proposing to ditch town. To ditch home… But now? He's kicking himself for ever doubting the eccentric man he called his friend.

And so he now stands in his apartment, making dinner. It's become routine by now. Pick up Mārīte from school after work, drive home, make dinner, repeat. Though one glance at the calendar caught his eye. March 25th. So he figured the ball of energy he had the pleasure to call his daughter, deserved a little something something.

"Kid, I'm going to the store, you w-"

"Yes! Where are we going, what do we need and do I need to bring my coat?"

Of course… couldn't even let him finish talking. Typical. That didn't stop the minor grin on his face, however.

"Just the corner store, its a surprise, and yes, young lady, it may be spring, but the weather is tricky this time of year. I don't want you sick."

It was obvious the seven-year-old wanted to bombard him with more questions, but that rarely went her way, so she toddled over to pull on her small boots, as her father helped with her windbreaker. Afterwards, he leisurely, at the dismay of the child, put on his own shoes and coat, not forgetting to check if he brought the wallet and keys.

Luckily, the walk is short. But it's enough to explain his reasoning.

"Back home, there's a tradition that we haven't done in a while due to your mother. Have you noticed our calendars look a little different from the ones at your school? With all the names written underneath the dates?"

He asked, glancing at her. There was a small furrow in her brow as she thought, before nodding as she toddles along.

"Smart girl… And did you notice your name on today's date?"

When met with a thoughtful hum and a nod, he grinned. Just in time for them to reach the doors of the corner store, and he pushed the door open for her.

"Good. Think of today as a birthday for your name. And birthdays entail gifts… so. I'm letting you pick out 3 things, okay? Within reason, of course."

To say the girl's eyes lit up was an understatement, and he had to reflexively grab her by the hood of the windbreaker before she sprinted in the store. Taking the hint, she slowed down, but still eagerly made her way to the candy isle, and her father followed, paying no mind to the customer entering after them.

"And I can have anything?" Mārīte asked, wanting to double check.

"Sure thing. You deserve a treat every once in a while too."

Satisfied, she diligently scanned all the different chocolate bars and candy packages. During this time, Sylvester decided to fill his own shopping basket with various things that were running low. That mainly consisted of a handful of energy drinks and a couple of groceries.

When reaching upwards to take a box of cereal off the top shelf, for a moment, his sleeve slipped. Mentally he cursed himself for still wearing his raggedy old leather jacket around six sizes too big, when the compass caught his eye.

For years, he'd given up on it. Considered it a fluke. He convinced himself he isn't obligated to marry a soulmate, yet alone find it.

But in this instant? It was pointing north. North-! After almost a decade of only seeing the damn thing pointing only east as if it was stuck and broken. He thought he could drop the damn box that very moment.

And in his shock, he failed to notice the stranger nearby who had been watching him, without a thing in their own shopping basket. Their eyes seemingly glued to him.

Before he could start overthinking, Mārīte was back, 3 things in her tiny hands. A chocolate bar and two lollipops. That enough, was to distract him, as he quirked up a brow.

"You sure that's what you want? You could've had two whole bags of candy instead, y'know?"

"I know! But.. Uncle was showing me old photos, and you always had lollipops in your mouth… So.. I wanna share!"

Lollipops… Of course that's what she thought they were. Nevertheless, he ruffled the kid's hair, and put the cereal box in his basket, picking up said basket, hands ever so slightly trembling still.

"Share… I suppose if that's what you really want. Though I'm not too surprised, you're as sweet as sugar!"

The man snorted, making his way to the cash register. Once all had been paid for and bagged, they returned back onto the street, Mārīte already struggling to unwrap the sticky treat, having difficulties to do so without her nails.

That was also when a large, warm hand grabbed onto Sylvester's shoulder, and a new voice spoke up.

"Excuse me, do you have a moment?"

As Sylvester and Mārīte came to a sudden halt, the father turned around, and looked up to meet the stranger's brown eyes. A polite, but somewhat forced, smile came on his mug as he looked over his glasses to meet the ones of the mysterious figure.

"Yes? Can I help you..?"

[cheeriecherrymain]

Behind the scene lore, behind the scene lore!!!

I wanna know more about Viktor's life as he grew up with his penpal friend

omg yes yes! so im thinking this up right as i write it but that's okay because i enjoy the tasty prompt!

So there was a tiny bit of his backstory in chapter 9, but not a lot, so i'll try and expand a little bit on that. He lost his mom first, and then his dad just kind of Disappeared, but i honestly can't decide what Exactly happened to him. Like if he just left and never came home because he got into some kind of trouble, or if he'd been planning on leaving Viktor purposefully.

it's a personal headcanon that Viktor looks like his mom, so maybe his dad saw too much of his deceased wife in his face, and couldn't look at him anymore.

I wanna say that Vik found the pen a couple weeks before his dad took off, though. And because the Reader hadn't gotten a hold of the rest of the set yet, it functioned as a normal pen would. He probably used it to learn what he could about machinery, sketching out his designs and concepts on scraps of paper he was able to find.

It's probably only a week or so after being abandoned that the two of them start talking. HC that the Reader is a little bit older than Viktor, either by weeks or months. But at that age, he probably only Kind Of understands how bad things are - like his situation is dire, but until they left him, I wanna say that his parents did a decently okay job at protecting him.

Like yeah, he grew up in desolate poverty, and he was probably surrounded by hardened hearts and violence, but he wasn't directly involved with it. In a sense, they allowed him to have a soft heart that cares about people and the world and animals. He's not blind to what's going on by any means, but I want to say he can still see the good in people to some degree. He's not as jaded.

Really, the pen turns out to be a blessing to him. He could have learned all the stuff that the Reader was helping him with on his own, but it would have taken him a lot longer. He's kind of on his own after his parents are gone, aside from his long distance friend, who helps him learn things quick enough to survive.

In my mind, he gets a job at a weird little repair shop. Once he shows that he has at least some skills and concepts, his employer decides to take a chance on him, and Vik enlists the Reader for help. He figures things out pretty quickly on his own, but he still likes sharing what he does with another person - he's never really had friends his own age, so he gets attached very quickly.

He's definitely worried that they'll leave him, especially in the first couple of months, but as the years pass, he grows more secure about their friendship and trusts that his penpal genuinely cares about him.

His employer probably lets Viktor sleep in the room above the shop in exchange for reduced wages, which is honestly a steal, since he'd kind of just been out on the streets after being abandoned. It's not a big place, literally just a single room with a door and a bed, but it's better than what he had before. He builds a little desk for himself, so he can write and sketch more comfortably. He makes a couple of shelves, over time, and fills them with bits and bobs he's collected.

He and the Reader probably have brainstorming sessions on a regular basis, writing down concepts and nitpicking the details of how something might or might not be possible. Viktor isn't able to get his hands on a lot of the parts necessary to build most of them, but the Reader is. Which is why he recognizes them in their workshop, when they're older and secretly paired together in class.

And the Reader is just so earnestly kind to him, encouraging his interests and hyping him up. He's never really had someone who openly sticks up for him like that, so like I said, he gets attached quickly. I even want to think that he falls in love with the Reader before they fall in love with him. Kind of a puppy love at first, willing to follow them anywhere because they're nice to him, but after getting to know them in person (after figuring out their identity) it morphs into a more serious kind of love: wanting the best for them and wanting them to feel safe and secure, loved, and listened to.

Doesn't stop him from blushing like a schoolboy the first time they kiss him. Viktor.exe has stopped working. We couldn't see it the first time they kissed, because it was dark, and they haven't kissed since - but he's gonna turn into a complete tomato once they start openly being affectionate with each other.

It will take him a little bit to get used to the physical acts of love, but not as long as you'd think. Another personal headcanon is that he's not put off by touching, provided he knows the other person well enough. He's just...awkward about initiating anything. He wants the hug, but he doesn't know how to ask for it, so he'll just stare at his partner looking sad until they somehow gain the ability to read his thoughts.

Bc really, both the Reader and Viktor are still kind of babey in this fic. They're only nineteen. which when you get to be my age, is basically a tall child XD They still have more growing up to do, and i'm honestly contemplating continuing this fic for a while. Working up to their relationship, but then also showing the next couple years of their life. I will need to come up with ideas oof