#mini just watching under the umbrella

[thx-sunsxts-addrxss]

ok but have you ever thought of aru and rudy having the most AWESOME swimming competition ever?

[reverieblondie]

Summer Vacation

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara X fem!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Fingering. You and Miguel have to be sneaky.

Summary: College has been stressful and your finally off for summer vacation... But then you receive a surprise visit...

A/N: Ya'll thought I wasn't writing for Miguel anymore... oh how wrong you all are... If this dose well I will make it a mini series! Just let me know! Enjoy!

Word count: 3,242

So much for your plans for a quiet vacation…

It had been perfect in your mind. Your parents were out of town, and their house was so close to the beach that you couldn’t pass up the opportunity to have a nice and relaxing summer vacation all to yourself. School had been hectic, and you needed some serious relaxing time lounging out under a shady umbrella, cutting down on your TBR list with a frozen drink at your side and maybe a summer fling on the other.

But now... that’s not going to happen, not with the little surprise visit you received…

As you had settled in last night, you heard the sounds of a slamming car door. Your first thought was your parents made a surprisingly short trip, but that’s when you saw him entering through the front door. 

Your brother? What is his goofy -

But before you can finish the thought, you saw him following in. You haven’t seen him in years, but as soon as you see those familiar eyes, you know exactly who he is. Miguel O’Hara, your older brother’s best friend. The last time you remember seeing Miguel was the summer before he and your brother graduated. Lots of people assumed Miguel was a grumpy jerk from his quiet nature. Still, you always found him funny and kinda charming. You especially loved when he gave your brother a hard time: Miguel was definitely your favorite out of all your brother’s friends.

In contrast, the others ignored you, where Miguel was always friendly and looked after you in his own way. Sure, he wasn’t stopping you in the halls to talk to you your freshman year, but you would catch how he would be subtly watching you, and without fail, every time you were doing homework at your dining room table, Miguel would slide in next to you to whisper what questions you got wrong. Okay, sure, you planned it out to be there when he came over, but could you really blame a girl? Miguel was top of his class, plus it also helped that Miguel was quite cute.   

You ended up developing a bit of a crush on him, but he was off-limits, and that was only a silly little freshman year crush. You are way past that. So, as you sit here lounging on your couch, watching him walk in looking taller, buffer, and undoubtedly cuter, okay, he’s actually sexy as hell now…

As soon as Miguel walked in, his eyes met yours. At first, he was equally surprised to see you, but his shock quickly turned to a smile, like he was actually excited to see you. Though the smile was short-lived, as when your brother turned around to grab his bag from him, Miguel went back to his ever-stoic look. 

After your initial surprise wore off, you told your brother about disrupting your plans. He was quick to assure you that he wasn’t going to ruin them as he walked over and ruffled your hair, “Don’t sweat it, sis. Me and Miguel won’t bother you too much.” 

“Too much?”

He laughs as he saunters into the kitchen, “Well, I am your older brother, and I can’t just not mess with you!” 

The audible groan you give only earns a laugh from your sibling. Older brothers… 

While your ruined vacation plans are flashing before your eyes, a clearing throat catches your attention. Turning around, you see Miguel looking down at you with a bit of a smile back to his full lips, 

“Guessing you’re not too excited to see us…” 

Well, if it had just been Miguel….that's a different story… “Let’s just say I had plans for a stress-relief vacation and can’t exactly do now with an older brother lurking around…” 

Miguel chuckles and quickly looks you up and down for a moment. His eyes go to your brother as he leans down and whispers, “You could… if you know how to be sneaky about it…” 

For a moment, you don’t think this is happening, but… is Miguel flirting? You look at him, confused but very intrigued… you haven’t seen him in forever, and this is how he acts? Maybe you’re just reading too much into it; Miguel always gave you homework advice. Perhaps this is just him doing that, but your horny brain is misinterpreting… But just in case….

You look into his eyes, seeing that once warm brown now, has a tinge of red to them. “How do I know you won’t rat on me to my brother? Get me in trouble?” 

“Let’s just say I can keep a secret… troublemaker.” 

Troublemaker? You could be a troublemaker if he’s going to be the one that’s going to spank-

No, No, No! Off limits! Brother’s best friend, I don’t care if he’s built like a god and has a nose that you would pay good money to grind against. You can’t be the one to stick your neck out. Maybe Miguel is just a flirt now; all talk, but it doesn’t mean it. Off limits!

While your brain can still form some rational thought, you rush off to bed before Miguel can notice the blush rising to your face. As you make it to your door, you think you see Miguel leaning back to look down the hall at you with a smirk. Being a sane person you quickly scramble through your door and slam it shut, you go and flop down in your bed, cursing your brother for having brought with him Miguel. Out of all his friends, he had to get the one who makes your insides scream. 

Now here you sit, completely forgetting about the book in your hands as you stare at Miguel, looking so damn distracting! You know you shouldn’t be staring at him, but watching him running shirtless with his bulging biceps, massive chest shining in a sheen of sweat, and his flexing abs. Don’t even get started on his ass and legs in his swimsuit. You quickly slam your face in your book; stop sexualizing him… off-limits…off limits! 

Though you never were one to have good self-control. So, peering up from your book, you look at him. Sweat has never looked so good. 

Miguel just looked so effortless in his movements, and from the looks of the others staring, you’re not the only one to think this. Something in your chest tightens with that thought, the thought of him swarmed by admirers. For as long as you have known him, you have seen how people trip over themselves to fawn over him, but he always remained single from what you knew… you are sure he has had girlfriends before, but every time he was around you… he didn’t bring one up, he always was single, or at least appearing to be.

Then lost in your staring, his eyes meet yours.

You want to blame the sudden rush of heat to your face on the summer heat, but you know it’s from him… that same auburn gaze that always makes your stomach flutter and your insides ache. 

Miguel watches you as he pushes back his sweat-drenched hair before he lets a smile form on his full lips and gives you a slight wave. You work up the nerve to wave back, then quickly hide behind your book again. You’re stuck rereading the same line over and over, trying to hold onto the words, but that smile and those eyes…

Perhaps another peek won’t hurt…

Going for it, you take another look and see your brother, Miguel, and two pretty girls. The girls are all perky and smiles as they chat, something your brother is eating up, while Miguel has returned to being stoic—his ever-trustworthy defense mechanism. 

Looking away, you’re going through a swell of emotions. Well, more like one bitter emotion…

Jealousy…

You have as prided yourself on being a supportive girl; when you see a girl shooting her shot, you always wish silent good luck for them, but right now, seeing them talking to Miguel… It’s making you feel bitter. In no way is Miguel yours, hell he’s off limits for what you’re concerned, but watching this… hurts. This is ridiculous. Jealousy? Really? With a sigh you try to just forget it, though your skin is feeling hot, and you’re fighting the urge to stare.

To calm yourself, you place your book to the side and strip off your cover-up, the material that was once comfortable now irritating. You hadn’t planned on swimming or being out of your cover-up, so of course you make this the day you wear your smallest bikini. It’s funny how things always turn out like that. Stripping off the material, you instantly feel some relief. However, you have that distinct feeling of someone looking at you, watching you. 

With a glance, you see Miguel looking over everyone’s heads to make eye contact with you again…

Getting back to your book and swallowing down your jealousy, you keep your eyes on your book to keep yourself out of trouble. Finally, after a bit, when you're just getting lost in the text, there’s a nudge on your leg. 

“Uhhggg, please tell me you didn’t come here just to sit around.” Narrowing your eyes at the complaining source, you see your brother nagging you. 

You look down at your book, “You enjoy your time your way; I will enjoy mine my way.” 

Your brother rolls his eyes before grabbing his water bottle, “Goes to the beach and doesn’t swim or play soccer with her big bro. Are you depressed or something?” 

More like irritated… and frustrated… 

Before you can give your rebuttal, Miguel silences Your brother by bouncing the soccer ball on his head, “Stop messing with her.” 

Your brother, as dramatic as ever, holds his head and whines, “Ouch! When did you get so overprotective?” 

Miguel looks surprised and almost guilty for a moment before the mask comes back. “I’m not overprotective; just… let the kid relax like she wants.” 

KID?!

As soon as the words leave his lips, they are ringing in your ears. A kid? He’s older than you, sure, but calling you kid? What the hell? Is that how he sees you? You don’t know what’s the worst label: best friends little sister, or kid? 

Your brother pats your head, “Aw, got to be nice to the baby!” 

The words sting deeper. It’s not like you’re not used to your brother’s teasing; that’s actually how you two play with each other and show affection, but today…

You quickly stand, swatting his hand away. Your brother pauses and looks at you, confused. “Wow, what’s your damage?”

“I’m not in the mood…” You bite back, grab your bag, and walk off. 

“Where are you going?!” 

“None of your business!” 

You’re not even sure where you are going, but with your chest burning with embarrassment and annoyance, you just don’t want to be somewhere you’re labeled as a kid. 

You ended up at the concession stand to get some ice cream. Okay, not precisely screaming, mature lady. But your irritation at the situation is reaching a peak, and you need a nice cold comfort snack to cool you down.  

A kid… he sees you as a kid, you’re a woman in college, and he calls you a kid… and here you thought he was staring at you. Fooling yourself to think he’s interested. Looking down at yourself, you feel worse, wearing this bikini revealing your body secretly hoping to grab his attention. Ugh! Maybe you should go home, hide in your room till they leave… And why is this line moving so sl-

Suddenly, the feeling of a giant hand grabbing you close startles you. You’re pulled into what feels like a brick wall. Looking up at the sudden grabber, you see that familiar strong jaw and that dark wavy hair, but not his gaze. No, Miguel is looking off at a nearby table at a group of guys who are visibly avoiding eye contact and sweating bullets. 

You look between them for a few more minutes before you ask the million-dollar question, “What are you doing?” 

Miguel doesn’t take his eyes off the group, “Just... keeping an eye on you…”

This only seems to piss you off more; now he’s watching over you like you can’t handle yourself.

You push yourself out of Miguel’s hold, getting his attention to your huffy face, “What’s your problem?”

“I don’t need a babysitter!” You bite back. 

Miguel furrows his eyebrows at you, “I didn’t say you did!” he says, equally frustrated.

“Then stop treating me like I’m some kid!”

Miguel looks at you, confused, before he remembers what he said. “Look… I didn’t mean it like that.”

Before Miguel can finish, he’s being pushed past, you’re doing your best to show how thoroughly pissed off you are. You ignore him the best you can as he walks after you. Trying to ignore how his voice makes your skin tingle as he says your name. But right now, you can’t focus on that. You’re just wanting to slip away and hide! What you were not expecting as you slipped into one of the colorfully painted private changing sheds was for Miguel to follow behind you.

Miguel locks the door behind himself, and you groan. “I was trying to get away from you.”

“Will you at least listen to what I have to say? And stop acting like a brat?”

You roll your eyes, “Oh, so now I’m a brat!”

Miguel continues to get irritated with you, and you’re not listening, so he has to listen to your ranting. You go one about how you're not a kid, how they ruined your summer vacation, and what was the deal at the concession stand.

Miguels finally had enough. If you won’t listen to you he will just have to take the risk and show you.

So, during your rant, you feel two large hands gently grabbing your face. The gentleness of the touch sends currents of desire through your body. His eyes are steady on yours as he watches you lose your words, and your anger die down. Slowly, his thumb moves from your jaw to trace over your lips softly.

“Can you pause for a minute so I can kiss you?” 

You didn’t have to say yes; all you had to do is close your eyes and stand on your tiptoes to let him know you want it as badly as he does—to kiss him.

Miguel touches his lips to yours; their soft fullness blurs your thoughts. All that tingling turns into a back-arching static as Miguel guides you through the kiss. The intensity of the kiss grows with every second, with every careful caress, and as Miguel finally presses his warmth against you, you’re fully lost in him—lost in each other.

The feel of Miguel’s hands dropping to your hips makes your lips part with a gasp, allowing Miguel to slip in his tongue. The taste of him was completely intoxicating, making your thighs tighten and your pussy get wetter with every pass of his experienced tongue.

 Before he can completely lose himself in your kiss, he quickly turns you around so his chest is pressed against your back, and his hard cock is against your ass.

Miguel brings his lips to the shell of your ear, his warm breath softly panting over your skin, making you lean into him. Reaching behind you, you grab a hold of his dark hair between your fingers.

“I’ve wanted to do that since the second I saw you again.” he whispers in your ear.

Miguel slowly moves his large hand to the hem of your bottoms, his fingers teasing the material,

“Then... I’m forced to look at you in this tiny thing, which is driving me even more crazy.”

You can hardly think coherently as you let out a trembling whine, “Crazy…”

Miguel lets out a low purring hum as he slips his finger under the material, his fingertip softly teasing your slick folds. Tempting you to beg. How badly you want to beg... but the feeling of his rough fingers on your soft flesh as your hips slightly rolling against him. It’s all the begging Miguel needs (or that he can handle...) before he finds your slit and starts to tease your opening.

You can’t help but squirm, sick of the teasing and needing to feel him. With a shuddering pled, Miguel finally gives in to his lust, and your lust, and he sips in his finger. The stretch makes you rise to your toes, and your breath gives, the feeling of that curling pressure making you want more. Miguel presses his lips to your neck, his erection growing harder the deeper his digit goes. Miguel can’t help but grind his clothed cock against your ass as he whispers sweet words into your skin. Then right as your pussy is adjusting to his thick finger, he adds another, pushing in deep, all the way down to his rough knuckles. Your sticky arousal dripped down his thick fingers and pooled into his palm.

A sheen of sweat forms on your skin that Miguel eagerly licks up from your neck. Your core is starting to burn, and right as you think you can’t take anymore, his other hand comes down and starts rubbing your clit. Your legs tremble, and you begin to lose yourself in the feeling. Miguel’s breath matches your own as you start to approach that eye-crossing pleasure…

You feel yourself clenching on him, your whole body quivering. This feels like a dream: Miguel, the man you have been silently pining for, is touching you... kissing you... something he has equally wanted as much as you. The girl who was always so close... but off limits... Though now, you both couldn’t take it anymore how you needed each other…

Right as your bottoms are dropping to the floor and a moan is breaking from your throat, Miguel’s lips are on your rapid plus... then a ringing...

You both pause, gazing at each other, then at your bag thrown in the corner during the start of your rant. The ringing continues. You both knew who it was, but you didn’t want to leave this moment. At this moment, you two didn’t have to hide your wants, but if you didn’t answer, your brother would come looking.

Begrudgingly, you two part, with an irritated groan from the both of you. Bottoms back on your reaching for your bag, but your wrist is caught by Miguel before you can pick it up. Looking up at him confused, you see that classic stoic look,

“Wha-”

“I don’t want this to stop here.”

You’re completely dumbfounded. Here he is, the man you want saying the thing you want. “What if...” You don’t finish the sentence or want to think of any possible consequences.

Your Phone is still ringing, but you’re too entranced by him. Miguel leans his forehead against yours, “Be sneaky with me, trouble...”

Your summer plans might not be completely ruined after all…

“Think about it... and get back to me... Miguel gives you a chaste kiss, and before you know it, your bag is in your hands, and he exits the changing room. 

In your Miguel daze, you answer your Phone, reassuring your brother that you’re no longer mad and that you and Miguel are on your way back.

[mrs-hatake]

So~ I saw ur lad boys requests were open 👀🍵 and I was wondering if I could request their reaction if you were wearing a mini skirt and it accidentally rides up

a/n: sorry i'm late, anon! i hope you like it ^-^

Sylus:

April showers bring May flowers. As well as cool and sunny days. When one can finally shed off their thick winter coats and slip into something lighter, more colorful and maybe top it off by wearing a cropped jacket.

Y/N is strolling down the streets of Linkon, accompanied by children’s laughter and much needed heat after the long winter season. She doesn’t always spend her day off downtown, choosing to be lazy at home and recharge. But seeing how lovely the weather has gotten, she finds herself out of her pajamas and into a cute white knit top and black mini skirt. 

She doesn’t do much downtown; window shops for about an hour, grabs a late breakfast and stops by a flower shop.  When she enters the park to rest under a large tree with its leaves acting as an umbrella to shield her from the scorching noon sun, she spots an ice-cream truck. 

Happily eating her ice-cream, Y/N doesn’t notice a couple of boys chasing each other on their bikes. They rush past her, kicking dirt in their path and sending a strong gust of wind Y/N’s way. 

“Watch it!” Y/N yells after them, grumbling at how reckless kids are getting with each passing year. 

“Nice view.” Comes a comment, along with a satisfied whistle. 

Y/N turns, anger burning in her eyes and a stern talking to on her when she is met with a familiar handsome face, “Sylus?” She asks, her head tilting to the side. 

“In the flesh.” The man in question is sitting on a bench not too far from where the ice-cream truck is, a book between his large hands.

“What are you doing here-” Y/N cuts herself off when realization dawned on her that Sylus had seen her pale yellow underwear when those stupid boys zoomed by in their bikes, hiking up her mini skirt. 

A pretty blush dusts her cheeks and Y/N quickly averts her gaze from Sylus’ amused reds. 

Zayne:

Linkon’s Public Library is one of the city's most prominent buildings despite libraries being an outdated concept. After all, thanks to modern technology, everything is now digitized and an individual can gain access to billions of doors of information with a simple tap of their smart wrist watch.

Still, despite such conveniences, many still seek the warm embraces of a library. A place that feels familiar, as if reuniting with a relative after years apart. Even someone who has never been in a library before, can share this sentimentality. The aroma of book pages and the feel of the leather on the tip of the fingers, no modern device can replicate such sensations.

It’s why Y/N is spending her lunch break at the library instead of being at the cafeteria, eating and catching up with her colleagues. Although she loves them and would die for them, sometimes she needs a break.

And one of her favorite hobbies is picking up a book from the library and reading about previous generations, decades and centuries and their lifestyle.

She’s currently in the 21st century section, scanning the titles of various books when one at the very top catches her eyes; Surviving Quarantine and Covid-19. 

Y/N reaches up to grab it but the shelf is way too high for her to reach. Even when she stands on her tiptop, Y/N’s fingers still struggle to graze the book. She stretches and stretches to no avail. She tries to jump but that doesn’t help her wrap her fingers around the thick book. 

Just as Y/N tries to stand on the ledge of the book case to give her an extra boost, warmth engulfs her and an arm appears in her line of vision. Y/N is caught in a daze as a smooth looking hand easily grabs the book and pulls it out of the row of books. 

Following the arm, Y/N is pleased to see her doctor, “Zayne!”

Zayne isn’t someone who can show emotion on his handsome and youthful face but he has been trying as a small smile tugs the corner of his lips. 

“You should be more careful,” Zayne says as a form of greeting, “Your skirt was riding up. You never know who might be watching.”

Flushed with embarrassment, Y/N takes away the book, “Will do.” she chuckles awkwardly, unaware of the way Zayne’s gaze darts to her hips and back to her eyes. 

Zayne will take this to his grave but he was spending the past ten minutes watching Y/N trying to grab the book. Every time her skirt hitched, Zayne leaned further, nearly falling off of his seat, trying to catch a glimpse of Y/N’s underwear. And he would’ve been successful if he didn’t hear people making their way to where they are. After all, only Zayne is allowed to watch such a mouthwatering sight. 

Caleb:

Finally…Finally, after six long months, Y/N wakes up with excitement buzzing through her veins and heart thundering wildly. Today’s the day Caleb is coming home after his training program. 

She spends an hour and a half in her bathroom; washing her hair with jasmine scented shampoo and rubs honeydew scrub on her limbs and abdomen, shaves all the tiny hairs littered across her body and curls her hair just the way Caleb likes it. 

Y/N then spends another hour trying to choose the perfect outfit to greet Caleb home.

After three mountains of clothes pile up in her room, Y/N decides to wear a white off shoulder top with a matching mini skirt.

Just as Y/N is doing her makeup, she hears a car door slamming from outside her window. Eyes widened in alarm, she rushes to her window where she spots Caleb leaning into the window of the electric yellow cab. 

Oh, no! He’s home early!

As if on maximum speed, Y/N spreads peach colored lip gloss across her lips and pats a thin layer of powdered blush on her cheeks in less than twenty seconds. She takes the stairs by two and is out the door just as Caleb is waving off the taxi driver.

“Gege!”

Caleb turns at the sweet call of his meimei, her cute nickname at the ready when it dies on his tongue. 

Everything around him slows. The sounds become muted and his surroundings fade away into a blur. Except for Y/N who shines like the morning sun. 

She is running towards Caleb but at the same time, curls bouncing in tune with her breasts and her skirt swaying with the breeze. 

Every time Y/N comes down from the stone stairs of the entry path of their grandmother’s home, Caleb’s blessed with the sight of Y/N’s cute lace pink underwear.

How Caleb wishes he’s wearing his video recording lenses right now. He doesn’t ever want to forget this heavenly sight.

“Gege!” Y/N calls again before jumping into Caleb’s eager and greedy arms.

“I’ve missed you!” She smiles up at him, “Did you miss me too?” she pouts at him and it takes all of Caleb’s will power not to kiss her. 

“Y-Yeah…” Caleb clears his throat, hides his face in her hair and inhales her scent–jasmine and honeydew– to calm himself down, “I’ve missed you too.”

Pleased with his answer, Y/N beams at him, pretty eyes glowing with delight like the night stars. 

Y/N leans into the hug, unaware of how her warmth sends a thrill down her spine, how his heart is beating so loud he’s scared she might hear it. Heat pools Caleb’s in his stomach, a familiar sensation that he had tried not to chase after so he gently, albeit regretfully, pushes Y/N away.

Before she can pout at him–pretty eyes filled with unshed tears– and send Caleb into a frenzy, he rushes to say, “I got you a present!”

Grateful for the distraction, Caleb guides Y/N to their grandmother’s house. As much as he wants Y/N, wants her for himself, it’s not the time…yet.

[adhdduckie]

from the outside. teen!g.s. x reader.

my masterlist

irl mutuals dni

music choice; yo bro wtf

word count: 1.5k

synopsis; your best friend gojo and you through the eyes of shoko and getou.

warnings; not proof read.

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i. geto suguru, gojo's other best friend.

gojo and getou's relationship was a strange one. they had been friends as soon as they joined jujutsu tech high. In the years that they had known one another, they had grown to read each other like a book they had known forever.

ever since riko's death, things have been hard for the both of them. the elders force gojo to work more, and getou is left mostly alone. you're there sometimes to help him if he needs it, and sometimes he thinks it's the only thing that's keeping him sane.

The four of you are standing outside the halls, while gojo shows you his limitless technique for the first time. it's impressive, to say the least. The rubber thrown at him by shoko bounces off his head, and the pencil stops moving, it doesn't get close enough to him to hurt him.

a couple of weeks later, getou notices that gojo has it on all the time. there is not a moment in the day where gojo doesn't have infinity on. walking through the rain as a group, gojo's the only one that doesn't get wet at all. You're soaking, regardless of having been under a large umbrella.

gojo nudges and laughs at you, but no matter how many times you push him away from underneath the umbrella, he doesn't get wet, and you groan in irritation.

a couple days later, getou's at the vending machines, buying a couple cans of soft drinks for all of you. You, gojo and shoko are sitting around a table, gojo facing away from getou. getou walks up behind, with the cans in hand, attempting to press the cold can to gojo's cheek like he used to do.

but he realises he can't. his hand doesn't pass through the limitless barrier, and instead of saying something, he just sets the can down in front of gojo, as he says something stupid to change the topic. you all see how tired gojo is sometimes, but he takes on all of the jobs he's given, cuz after all, he's the strongest, right?

shoko is unable to touch him, too. a couple days later after the incident with getou, she tries to swat at him after gojo steals a fry off his plate when you're all sitting in the KFC booths. like getou, she can't touch him.

after KFC, you all head to the arcade. it's a rare day where you are all free, so you gotta make the most of it. getou and shoko are staring at some basketball game, and after awhile, they decide to play it.

you're staring at some cute little plushy inside the claw machine. it's a scam, you know. but that little white cat with the black sunglasses reminds you too much of a certain someone, and if you can't have him, you'll take the cat.

since claw games are a total scam, you spend three tokens trying to get that little cat, which you've mentally dubbed as mini 'toru, and when those three tokens are wasted, you sigh, pushing away from the machine and go find something else to do.

unbeknownst to you, satoru has been watching the entire time, and while you're prancing on the dance dance revolution with shoko, he gets it for you. getou watches, not commenting on anything at all, just smirking as he watches from afar.

he walks up to you, while you beat shoko's ass by a substantial amount. he taps your shoulder, and when you spin around, your face breaks out into a wild grin. completely forgetting about the game, you jump, throwing your arms around gojo.

getou flinches in preparation, fully expecting you to slam face first into the impossible barrier. but when he doesn't hear the sound of you getting hurt, he opens his eyes, not really noticing when they fluttered shut.

the sight that meets his eyes is astounding. your arms are wrapped around gojo's neck, and you're grinning at him happily. gojo's got his arms wrapped around you to stop you from falling.

getou hears a gag behind him, and turns around to see shoko being dramatic, gagging at the lovey dovey sight. they catch each others' eyes, and grin at each other, knowing that something more might just blossom between you and gojo, as his infinity was not on around you. i mean, getou's slightly hurt that it's on around him, but he's more excited than anything.

ii. shoko ieiri, your own best friend.

it's been a long, exhausting week. actually, it felt more like a year. you've spent ages doing paper work and killing curses, spent hours inside the infirmary. you've barely seen gojo all week, and you bitch and moan about being busy next to shoko as she patches you up.

"shut up." she tells you, pulling a wrap tightly together, as you let out a soft hiss.

you glare at her, before a notification pings on your phone. shoko watches as your face lights up immediately when you see who sends you the message, and much to shoko's joy, you shut up.

curious to know who it is, she leans over your shoulder, gently pushing your face to see better. she rolls her eyes, noticing satoru's name and profile pic popping up, and she turns around, going back to wrapping you up.

it's an invitation to watch a movie with him, to have your weekly movie marathon. you send a quick, speedy reply, agreeing to meet him, simply stating that you'll grab the snacks and drinks and meet him in a hour.

shoko rolls her eyes again, watching as you stumble quickly off the table, grabbing your stuff, while she yells after you to be careful, and that she hasn't even finished.

"i'll be fine!" you yell back at her. she sighs, shaking her head, glancing back to her monitor, a photo of the four of you up in the background. even in the photo, you're looking at gojo.

in the image, he's staring at the camera, but your eyes are trained on him, a smile on your lips. getou and shoko are laughing, and you have your arm slung over shoko's arm.

she sighs again, stretching her neck out as she thinks. your love for him is so obvious, it's a wonder satoru hasn't noticed yet. she sits up straight again, getting back to her work.

the hours go by quickly as she fills out paperwork. it's dark by the time she finishes, way past midnight. all she can hear is crickets chirping, and the rustling of leaves in the wind.

she stands from her chair, stretching out her long arms, cracking her back. she walks through the school's halls, reminiscing about her past.

at the end of the hall, where the common room is, there's a harsh glow of a light, the tv still playing. shoko walks closer, expecting either you or satoru to have forgotten to switch off the tv when you went to bed.

she's surprised to find you both still there, as she stands in the doorway. from her position, she can only see the back of the couch, yours and gojo's head. as she quietly stalks closer, to remind you to go to bed early, especially after being hurt.

as she walks closer, she sees the food you went and bought still spread around the table, an open box of cheese pizza, several bags of chips, and three boxes of satoru's favourite kikifuku you somehow managed to get despite his favourite store being an hour away.

as her eyes drag over the mess in front of her, mostly satoru's, you would say if you were awake, since there's popcorn all over the couch and on the floor, she notices the spots you and satoru are in.

she slaps her hand over her mouth, forcing the laugh down. the two of you are cuddled close together, like satoru and you can't even bear to be apart while asleep, or as if, while sleeping, there was something pulling you together.

satoru's legs are tangled with yours, his arm over your shoulder, your face hidden in the crook of his neck. she smiles again, pulling her phone out and snapping photos for you, since she knows you'd love having them.

as she tucks her phone away, and switches off the tv, as to not disturb your peaceful sleep, she sees a small movement in the corner of her eye. when she looks, the movement immediately stops, but she sees a smile curve across satoru's lips.

ah. he's been awake this entire time. his eyes flutter open, and they make eye contact. satoru pulls up the hand that's not wrapped around you, and brings a finger to his lips, shushing shoko.

she laughs, shaking her head. the little shit. she bets he's planned this entire thing out. she turns on her heel, walking back to her own room, quickly sending the photos to both you and satoru, and sending another to getou. his response is immediate.

'how much longer do you think this will last?' getou wagers in his text

'not much more pining, i think. it's about time, i believe.' shoko states.

she's right. it's not long before you finally get together, and getou and shoko heave a sigh of relief.

[dgybbvrcsacgswtcbkyv]

Rainy Da(te)y

Yu Jimin x fem!reader

--------------------------------------------------------

It was a cloudy day, just cool enough to not break into a sweat but not so cold that you were shivering. You stepped into the street with a spring in your step and a smile on your face. You were on your way to pick up Karina. But you almost skidded to a halt when you felt a raindrop land on your head. Followed by another. Then another.

You were absolutely soaked in minutes. Now zig-zagging and narrowly avoiding other pedestrians as you run on the sidewalk, you try to spot a clothes shop, supermarket, or anything that might sell an umbrella. You see a Miniso and rush inside, not before shooting a guilty look to the staff who was at the door, for dripping water everywhere.

Roaming the aisles looking for your current need, you spot them right next to the cashier. Picking out a blue one that was easy on the eyes, you hand it to the staff behind the cashier. After paying you step out again, now rushing to meet her.

She’s under the shelter of a closed little mini-supermarket when you arrive. Running up to her with a big grin you let out a “Heyy, sorry I’m late” under rushed breath.

“Hey you” she replies with an easy smile. You take in her appearance, she’s drop-dead gorgeous as always. Her black hair let down in a wolfcut making the hairstyle look like it was created just for her. A little pink hue adorning her upper cheek due to the sudden drop in temperature. She’s in casual clothes. You love her the most this way, relaxed and happy.

While you were taking in her appearance, she was doing the same to you.

“Ya! How did you manage to get soaked while holding an umbrella? Are you that clumsy??” This has always been your friendship, back-and-forth banter. Well, one-sided banter. Actually... it was just a lot of Karina teasing you and you not knowing how to respond.

“Um,” you began, always the awkward one. No matter how many years you’ve known her, you still get nervous under her gaze. “I bought it after I got wet.” you meekly replied.

“What? What’s the point of that if you were already wet? No actually, why didn’t you have an umbrella in the first place? or seek shelter when you felt a few raindrops? Yn, it was raining all week, surely you knew better than to-“ Jimin began her usual scolding session. She knew you can be stupid and reckless and she hates when you get sick. “I didn’t want you to get wet.” you mumbled under your breath, looking away.

Jimin stops her rant and looks at you. It dawns on her why you had bothered to buy an umbrella. Now that she thought about it, this might be the first time she's ever seen you with an umbrella. She lets out a little “what?”.

This is one of the main things you love about Jimin. She is always listening to you. Always. As a soft-spoken, introverted person, who thinks three times before saying anything, it’s usually difficult for you to not get spoken over or ignored. So you always loved Jimin for paying attention to you and what you had to say.

“I.. I just.. didn’t want you to get wet. Let’s go now.” You grabbed her by the arm and started leading her in the direction of the café. Not allowing her to respond but also to hide the blood rushing to your cheeks. Her mouth was still agape, eyes fixed on yours in a trance, while you walked with your eyes fixed forward—feigning confidence.

She broke out of her stupor, but before tearing her eyes away from you, she noticed you were still getting wet on your right side. While Karina remained completely dry on your left side. You were holding the umbrella, which admittedly, was not big enough for two people, to completely cover Karina.

Normally, she would’ve made a remark to annoy you like, “What in the K-drama is going on?” but she was silent as she considered you, her friend for many years who she has always felt a bit nervous around. Thus why she teased you relentlessly to make you nervous instead. Which she quite enjoyed, watching you not know what to do with yourself. She silently contemplated your friendship while you dragged her to the cafe.

[sashi-ya]

東京 NIGHTS mini event

𝑰'𝑳𝑳 𝑩𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑰𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𓂃 ࣪˖ okkotsu yuuta x fem! reader

⤹˚ synopsis. some years have passed since the incident; he moved overseas, you stayed... however, you never forgot, and you always waited

requested by: Anon ➡ hi sash, I saw you love Yuta so can I ask for our sweet boy with a fem! reader and the prompt "meet me at Hachiko statue in 3 yeas"? thank you! tw: sfw. sweet, romantic. fluffy. based on Hachiko's and his story. there might be a second part of this story, with 18+ cont. You can tell me if you want me to post it ~ wc: 1.4k masterlist

“Meet me three years from now at the Hachiko Statue” “Shibuya? Again?”

Three years have passed, the incident left your hearts barely hanging from the tiny strings of an undeveloped love.

Waiting, day after day. Night after night.

A light rain plays a soft melody against the transparent surface of your umbrella. Your lips tremble, even if you fight for your façade to look as serious as possible. The doors of the subway station feel like the holy tori of a sanctuary; after all that happened some years ago, looking at the “to Shibuya” signs still makes you dizzy.

You watch youngsters coming back from school, other enjoying themselves as they probably get ready to visit karaoke bars tonight. And you remember that you used to be exactly the same as them… even if from the corner of your eye, creatures of many different types appeared to make you late.

This time, however, there was no creature. No curse. No ghost. But only the feeling of what once happened there. How many of you have lost much more than what you could remember…

You check your phone; no message from Okkotsu still. Will he be there? At least, is he in Tokyo at all?

You swallow and swipe the card on the ticket gate; the “beep” allows you to keep walking, but the sound of your heart beating fast covers it all. Soon enough, the subway train arrives perfectly in time, and letting other people go in first, you find a seat waiting just for you.

Once again, you check your phone. Nothing.

“He is not coming, why am I doing this? he probably forgot about me and this, and I can’t blame him…”

Sweaty palms make your phone get steam marks on its screen, but you don’t mind. Your leg bounces softly, the music in your earphones have absolutely no importance to you right now.

You close your eyes, wondering how he looks like now. Does he still have those dark beautiful circles under his eyes? The little reddish hint that always made him look as he had just stopped crying? The blackest messy hair, or maybe his narrow frame… “I just hope you haven’t forget about me, even if you don’t come”  

It takes very little for the subway to finally reach Shibuya station. Or maybe it was just you lost in time, that you didn’t notice.

As you walk up the stairs of infinite steps, you begin to feel the soft breeze of the busiest crosswalk in the world. It cools off your cheeks, already burning because Yuuta has always been your secret crush.

The rain has stopped, and there are just some pools on the ground reflecting the neon lights of the newly reconstructed Shibuya… this place used to look a lot different a few years ago.

The beat of the traffic lights sounds synchronize with your heart beating; the laughter of young people, the imagery of couples joining after work, the memories of painful and bloody happenings… everything surrounds you, turning your quivering legs a lot more weak than before.

You check your phone one last time before crossing; you need to get to the statue of Hachiko. That was your meeting point. Such a curious choice you had; Hachiko waited for his owner at the station until he died, because he knew one day he would come back…

As you cross, your eyes scan for the place. Looking at the faces of every man you could find, your disappointment grows bigger and bigger. None of them are him; none of them will be either.

You decide to wait for 10 minutes. Nothing more. Nothing less.

A few tourists stop you once you get to the statue, distracting you. They need to know their way to a certain restaurant, so you take your time to help them. But when they are finally gone, you are back to your loneliness.

“I’m going to check my phone one last time…” you think; unblocking your device. Nothing; again. “Yes, you are not coming… I hope you are fine, Yuuta” you whisper, low enough just for you to hear it.

With your head lowered, defeated, you begin to walk away. The rain has started to fall again, but you don’t even care to open your umbrella. It’s ok if your hair gets wet. It’s ok if your make up fades.

You wait at the traffic light to turn to green, you only want to hop on the station of your nightmares to go back home. Once and for all.

As the mass begins to move, and you put a foot on the street, something catches your attention.

A big bouquet of purple flowers covers the face of a tall man asking to forgive him while he opens his way through the crowd.

“Ah… lucky girl. Late but at least with such a big bouquet…” you smile, with your eyes turning a little shiny from incipient tears.

“(Name)!!” he screams, the moment that flower man reaches you. He bumps into you with the flowers, and he has yelled your name. You blink repeatedly, only looking at the hand holding the bouquet. A silver ring shines on his hand, and it makes you shiver…

There, right in the middle of Shibuya cross, under now a pouring rain, the shy face of a man sprouts from in between beautiful purple flowers.

“(Name)! My flight was delayed, but I wanted to buy you this before I came. I’m sorry, I am so happy you didn’t leave” he chimes, with a soft smile that hasn’t changed. He is a man now, stronger, taller, mature… but Yuuta is still the softest little boy you once met at the academy.

Your lower lip shakes like a leaf, and the tears start going down your cheeks. Maybe the rest won’t notice because of the rain, but Yuuta does. You can’t speak, no words come out of your mouth.

Violently crying now, you let yourself fall into his arms. The bouquet hangs from his hand to the side, while you nuzzle on the crook of his neck.

“(Name), don’t cry! I am here! are you ok?!!” he desperately asks, hugging you hard against his chest.

You sniffle and nod, inhaling his sweet perfume. Another thing that hasn’t changed a bit; his skin scent has always been the same. Even if the times you were able to enjoy it were barely twice, you can’t forget it.

“I… I thought you had forgotten” you murmur, as both walk hugging back to the sidewalk.

“Wh-what? I’ve been counting the days to see you again” he whispers, with his lips resting on the crown of your head. “How could I forget? I missed you so much”

You look up searching for his eyes, a sweet beam garnishes your face. He still has those dark circles; he still has that enchanting pouty lips. “You haven’t changed a bit, Yuta…” you whisper, allowing the warmth of his embrace to protect you from anything around.

He giggles, that pure laughter that makes you melt. “And here I thought I was getting older… you did, however, change (Name)…” he says, kissing your forehead after.

You gasp, the old Yuuta would have had a stroke before even kissing you. Or at least his cheeks would have become as red as tomatoes – to say the least.

“You look even more beautiful than before” he finishes, leaving you absolutely breathless.

You swiftly look around him; you don’t want to get killed by Rika. Once you positively check you are safe, you stretch your neck to reach for his lips.

Your mouth lingers closer to his, so close they can even touch but not quite yet. The warmth of his breath caressing your lips, yours doing the same thing to his. Maybe you just wait for him to kiss you, or maybe both want to enjoy the little previous moments of something that you’ve been waiting even before than you two met for the very first time.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, taking his hand to your cheek. The soft caress, the cold touch of the ring grazing your skin… please do…

You nod, pouting just enough to meet his crashing lips. Both closed your eyes just when your eyes could see into each other’s, just when it was time to feel rather than see…

Your first kiss, and then another, and another. And the tourists taking pictures, because what’s more beautiful than a couple joining after years right by the statue of Hachiko who waited only moved by pure love?  💖

[brf-rumortrackinganon]

I think invictius is just pissed off it’s not as healthy of an organization as it was when under the royal umbrella. They clearly relied very heavily on the royal family to excute things which is probably why they re-signed Harry to an ambassador role when he left. Only it became very obvious, that Harry’s priorities changed in the after math of the split and that didn’t bode well for invictius. They’ve spent basically 4 years bleeding themselves dry to support Harry and now Meghan and it’s gotten them no further along.

I agree that I think things have been simmering for a while now. And I think they’re are two fractions inside invictius games. There is the IG team themselves and then Harry and Meghan. Harry and Meghan want Birmingham to force the half in half out narrative. ( though I really don’t think this is going to work at all, no one is coming to this mini event next week and William and Charles have been rather clear in recent weeks about that)

The IG team wants Birmingham because they want to phase out Harry and bring in Mike. It’s UK soil and he’s a huge athlete advocate, it also brings in fresh blood with a sprinkle of actual royalty. (Do I think this will happen-no) but I believe this is why they haven’t kicked harry to the curb. There was a pretty massive turn over pre Vancouver, which alluded to issues with funding and securing the next location. I don’t think those have been solved and we haven’t seen harry attend any charity functions to drum up support. Hell he’s thrown a pretty massive tantrum about security for this small (ish) event, they’re chomping at the bit to see him gone.

What I do think will happen is that Birmingham will win it but the gov will completely swap this next election cycle and the funding will disappear. I think IG as we know it will brake away to host smaller country focused events and eventually link up with the warrior games in the us.

Harry and Meghan by extension are stressed about this, they need something- hence Washington DC coming out of left field. If trump wins, I doubt this is held in the way Harry would want.

Yeah, the Washington DC was really out of the blue. It doesn't make sense to bring Invictus Games to the US when we have the Warrior Games here. So to that end, I can see Invictus folding into Warrior Games, like you think. We've also got Germany hosting their own national set of games later this year, which is also pretty significant in the future of these international games.

And it isn't just the Warrior Games here in the US. I don't know what other countries do, but the US Olympics Committee has a huge program supporting military veterans, able-bodied and not, for the Olympics and Paralympics. So the market here is kinda really oversaturated for veterans-based athletic competition and the only way there's space for a US offshoot of Invictus Games is if they merge with and rebrand as Warrior Games.

And maybe that's part of the goal behind Harry cozing up to the US Department of Defense; he wants the US military and Warrior Games to bail Invictus out.

And y'all, I'm warning you now. I'll be watching the comments on this one. If it starts going off on politics because anon mentioned Trump, I'm turning the comments off and deleting them. I get enough crap of politics with work. I do not want it here.

[blackhairedjjun]

you made my day. ✧༺♥༻✧

pairing: ot5 (individually) x gender neutral reader | genre / tropes: comfort, fluff, slice of life, meet cute, strangers to (potentially) lovers; reader is an intern in yeonjun's and a student in taehyun's | word count: 900 - 1k each | warnings: profanity, food & drinks in all except beomgyu's, getting scolded in yeonjun's, getting lost in beomgyu's

summary: you're having a bad day and things don't go as planned. but a chance encounter with a kind and handsome stranger makes things a little bit better.

author's notes: this was supposed to be posted in time for the release of the seasons of txt: youth photos, but then i got writer's block working on kai's and then i got super busy with work so i finished this only now. this is my first time making a fully ot5 work, and it was a lot of fun coming up with unique scenarios for each member. i hope you enjoy!

(all mini-fics are under the "keep reading" cut! photos are left uncropped to preserve the original uploader's watermark. photos are from bxmgyx_13 on twitter.)

1. soobin 수빈

of all the days for you to forget your umbrella, it’s on a day when it actually rains.

you stand underneath the awning of the convenience store, sighing and clutching your bag of snacks. even as you silently wish for the rain to stop so that you could walk to the subway station, head home, and enjoy your food, the downpour only grows stronger as if the universe is playing a cruel prank on you.

today is supposed to be a relaxing day. maybe the sound of the rain would be calming if you were at home munching on a bag of your favorite chips... outside, not so much.

a few minutes pass. the rain abates ever so slightly, but not enough for you to go home safely. you glance up at the sky still covered in clouds, then back at the street view in front of you, losing hope.

you don’t mean to make eye contact with the tall stranger passing in front of you.

at that moment, two thoughts cross your mind. the first: he looks like an actor, i swear i’ve seen a handsome face like that before. the second: wow, a tall man with a big umbrella, if i were more shameless i’d ask him to cover me to get to the subway station.

the universe, once again, decides to humor you.

the young man stops in his tracks, still staring. then he turns away, bowing his head a little, as if trying to make himself smaller. you watch while he stays like that for a little bit, shifting his weight from one foot to another, clearly embarrassed by your encounter.

your face grows hot with embarrassment too and you bring your free hand up to cover your eyes. what am i doing? you chide yourself. just because he has a nice big umbrella doesn’t mean it’s okay to stare!

but before you can scold yourself too much, you hear a soft voice in front of you.

“do you... want to share?”

slowly you remove your hand from your eyes. the tall man is looking at you, and though he seems shy, you see a faint smile of politeness on his face.

“yes, please!” you nearly shout. “i mean 一 i’d like that, thanks.”

he bows a little as he moved forward and tilts his umbrella towards you. “sorry for staring, you just looked really sad standing here like that一” he stops, realizing what he just said, and presses his mouth shut.

cute. 

“no, it’s okay. i’ve been wanting to go home for a while, so yeah, i was feeling pretty bummed.”

“oh... sorry about that.”

you shrug. “it is what it is,” you say as you stepped under the umbrella. when you tell him that you were headed to the nearby train station, his eyes light up; he passes it by on the way to his dorms. the setup is perfect for both of you.

the tall man, you notice, seems naturally shy; even as you walk together under the rain, he makes sure to keep a polite distance from you, even if it meant one side of him getting slightly wet. his umbrella is slightly tilted towards you to make sure that you’re well-protected, even at his expense.

“hey, you’re getting rained on 一 it’s okay, you can bring the umbrella a bit more to your side.”

“it’s fine, i’m worried about your bag.”

“oh, this?” you lift up your bag of snacks on your free side. “don’t worry, they’re just bags of snacks. the packaging will keep them from getting wet.”

“oh? what snacks did you get?”

you tell him about your bags of chips and your packs of bread that you bought and his eyes start to shine. “i was gonna have a nice day to myself, just watching movies and eating these,” you say. “i picked out some dramas to watch this morning...”

“if you want really good bread, there’s a shop that just opened a few blocks away from the subway station! they make everything fresh, and i’ve been stopping by there after my classes.”

“oh! i’ve passed by that place, but i’ve never tried...”

as the two of you continue talking 一 turns out he has a lot of anime recommendations for you to binge while eating 一 he slowly starts to open up. he still looks handsome like an actor, but he has an adorable smile and a sparkle in his eyes that make him less intimidating and more endearing. he feels like someone you could hang out with, someone you could relax and be yourself around.

it wasn’t long before the two of you finally arrive at the subway station entrance. the rain has stopped, and the young man sets his umbrella down; now that you can see his face better, you take in the shine in his eyes and the dimples on his cheeks. oh, he’s so cute.

“hey, thanks so much for walking me, uh...”

“soobin.”

“thank you, soobin.” you feel your cheeks grow warm at you mentioning his name, and he seemed to blush a little, too. “this was nice of you to do.”

“ah, it’s nothing to worry about...”

“do you want to meet up at the bread shop sometime?”

the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. oh god, what are you doing? you start to chide yourself again for asking to hang out with someone you’ve known for ten minutes. all he did was walk you home out of courtesy, and yet一

“yeah... that would be nice.”

he seems to be trying his hardest to look at you straight, but you can tell that the shy smile spreading across his face was genuine. relief washes over you and you can’t help but smile back.

the smile doesn’t leave your face as you hand your phone over to him to exchange numbers. while typing in your contact details, a thought crosses your mind: maybe the universe knows what it’s doing after all.

2. yeonjun 연준

the walk home from your internship feels like a walk of shame.

you messed up a pretty urgent task, delaying your team’s entire project, and your boss had little patience as he scolded you in front of the other interns. even as you make your way back home where you can forget and perhaps drown your sorrows in ice cream, you can still hear your boss’s voice rising and ringing in your ears, and feel the interns’ eyes on you as they watch you get a dressing-down. some looks are ones of pity, others of annoyance 一 but they sting at you all the same.

it’s hard for you to push away the memory as you trudge down the familiar route to your apartment, the sights around you barely perceptible to your troubled mind. you don’t even have the mental energy to pay attention to the pedestrians around you, walking down the same sidewalk and headed who knows where, when一

bump.

“shit!”

you feel the splash of coffee on you and see a stain of dark brown spreading across your work shirt.

“oh shit, i’m so sorry一”

a bit of spilt coffee shouldn’t mean much, but today it’s the final straw. you burst into tears, unable to stop yourself from sobbing in a crowded street of strangers. everything about this day is conspiring against you: you can’t do your job right, you embarrassed yourself in front of the rest of the intern team, and now you can’t even get home without looking like a complete idiot. you want to disappear into thin air but all you can do is cry, which just makes you feel even more ashamed... and then cry harder.

“hey, please don’t cry, i didn’t realize that it was that bad一 did you get burned? i can walk you to a clinic一”

at first you barely pay attention to the young man who spilled his coffee on you, but now it’s hard to ignore the way he looks at you with eyes wide with worry. his hands hover just inches away from your shoulders, ready to comfort but not crossing the boundary of your personal space, and despite your tears your heart softens a bit at his willingness to help.

“it’s fine,” you sniffle, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand. “i一 i didn’t get burned一”

“i’m sorry for making you cry, i wasn’t paying attention一”

you can’t help but burst into a small laugh.

now the man looks confused, tilting his head at you. “wh-what’s so funny?”

“it’s not your fault that i’m crying,” you say, the last of your tears finally falling. “just had... a bad day.” 

“oh.” 

you watch the look in his eyes shift. he was looking at you with panic and desperation, but now his gaze softens. his hands fall to his sides but he leans toward you to listen to you better.

“sorry about your day.” his voice is softer now. “and it’s alright to cry it out, it must’ve been hard for you...”

you simply nod. your gaze falls to the sidewalk and you notice the spilled cup of coffee by your feet.

“s-sorry about your coffee...”

the man stares at you and tuts, shaking his head. “you just had a bad day, and you’re worried about my coffee? it’s fine, it’s nothing compared to what you went through.”

“i guess, i just... can’t help but feel bad.” you chew on your lip. “can i buy you a new one?”

he let out a chuckle and the sound makes you feel light. “will it make you feel better if you buy me a coffee?”

perhaps it would do you good to do something right for someone today, you think. besides, he seems nice, and he does deserve a coffee for trying to soothe you.

“yeah, sure.”

“then i’ll let you if it makes your day a bit better. there’s a cafe across the street, we can just stop by there, yeah?” he shrugs off the open button-down he’s wearing over his shirt and hands it to you. “and here, wear this to cover up the stain.”

“it’s fine一”

“c’mon, you can wear it.”

 you hesitate for a moment, but the young man looks at you with such wide eyes that you can’t say no; you take the button-down and put it on over your shirt. it’s big on you, but that’s good for covering up most of the stain. and while soiled clothing may be the least of your worries, it preserves your pride just enough that you smile for the first time today.

“there, you’re smiling already. you feel better?” he says, returning the smile.

oh, he’s handsome.

your smile widens and a blush starts to creep on you. “yeah... yeah, i do. and i guess some coffee would help.”

“then we can grab some together.” he offers his arm out to you. “i’m yeonjun, by the way.”

you thread his arm around his as the two of you walk towards the cafe. it’s an oddly intimate thing to do with someone you just met, but it feels right.

“nice to meet you, yeonjun. and thank you for helping me.”

maybe today isn’t such a bad day after all.

3. beomgyu 범규

where the hell am i?

it’s the first thought that enters your mind as you step off the train, and it’s the thought that comes back to you again and again as you wander around the unfamiliar station. the whole place is unnervingly quiet; no other trains passing by, no hustle and bustle of the city, not even other passengers chatting and waiting for the next train to come. you open your phone and check your map 一 and you realize that you have gone horribly, horribly off course.

you did everything right; your friend gave you the name of the train station close to their new apartment, and you even looked it up before your trip. you know that the apartment was quite far from your place, but this is too far altogether. sighing, you open your chat with your friend and start texting them: hey i think i’m at the wrong station can you please help. you pace back and forth as you wait for a reply.

nothing.

the cell signal in the station weakens. you can’t even send your friend a follow-up text.

you almost let out a scream until you notice that another passenger has appeared on the platform: a young man bobbing his head to whatever music he’s listening to. he pays you no mind as his attention is absorbed by the earphones connected to... a cassette player?

you squint. does anyone still use cassette players in this day and age?

in between his little listening session, the young man catches at you staring at him. he tilts his head at you, pauses his player, and takes off his earphones. “what’s up?”

“uh...”

should you ask him for help? if he’s waiting for his own train, maybe he’d know the station better than you.

he follows your gaze down to the cassette player in his hand and frowns. “hey, i like vintage things, okay? my dad gave me this and it still works.”

“n-no, it’s not that...” 

your confusion and frustration must be too obvious, because the young man slips his cassette player into his bag and takes a step towards you. “uh, are you okay?”

fuck it, you can’t solve this yourself anyway.

“i think i’m lost.” you head over to him and show him your phone: the station name your friend gave you, a screenshot of the route you took. you explain to him where you’re headed, and he nods along as he listens and examines the map screenshots on your phone.

finally, he lets out a nervous chuckle. “uh, sorry. i don’t know how to get there either.”

your heart sinks.

“but i know where the helpdesk is, maybe we can ask them? let’s go there together.”

“aren’t you waiting for the next train though...?”

“it’s fine, it’s coming in around 20 minutes. let’s go, then?”

he gives you a sheepish grin, and somehow it’s the most reassuring thing you’ve seen all day.

the two of you make your way through a maze of staircases and walkways to get to the helpdesk, which the young man explains is on the far side of the station. all the while he sticks close to you, arms nearly brushing as you walk side by side, and it makes you feel anchored in an unfamiliar place.

“i’m sure your friend must be worried about you,” he says. 

“yeah, and i can’t even text them to tell them where i am.”

“we gotta make sure you get back then. don’t worry, the helpdesk staff are super nice. they’ve always helped me out here, so they’ll surely be able to help you too.”

he smiles and nods at you as he says it, and it makes you believe him. he’s kinda cute, too.

the young man is in the middle of telling you about how he’s visiting his family when you spot the HELP DESK sign in front of a modest booth. you nearly sprint to it, but your companion manages to keep up and get there first.

“excuse me, could you help my friend here? they’re supposed to get to...”

you lend your phone to him as he explains your route to the middle-aged woman behind the help desk. she lets out a laugh as she hears him out 一 it turns out that there are two stations close to each other with similar names, and your friend gave you the wrong station name. “don’t worry, it’s a common mistake,” she says. “you’re not the first person i’ve seen make it. here, i can trace your route for you...”

a few moments later you hold a paper map with a post-it explaining which lines and stations you’re supposed to take. you relax visibly as you scan the instructions, and a new wave of energy fills you to get to where you need to go.

you look up at the young man and he seems even more excited than you. he’s grinning from ear to ear and bouncing slightly on his feet. “we did it!”

“thank you so much,” you say with a bow. “couldn’t have done it without you.”

“don’t get lost again, okay?” he says with a laugh. “or else i’ll have to come pick you up or something.”

“i’ll be fine, don’t worry. what, do you want me to text you when i get there?”

you’re joking but you freeze. what on earth were you even saying?

the young man goes from excited to sheepish, though he hasn’t stopped smiling. “i mean, yeah, that’s a good idea.”

“yeah...”

you find yourself exchanging phones with him, and when you get yours back, you glance at the new contact. beomgyu. there’s a little teddy bear emoji next to his name.

“text me when you get to your friend’s place, okay?”

beomgyu’s gaze softens, and you feel yourself growing warm.

“okay.”

4. taehyun 태현

you shouldn’t have checked how much progress you’ve made.

in the middle of your study session you flip through the pages of your chemistry textbook to see how much you have left to read... and you still have three-fourths of the chapter left. after that you have two more chapters to go. you flip through your own notes and realize that, as dense as they already are, they aren’t even halfway done. then you check the time on your phone: it’s been forty-five minutes.

oh, it’s going to be a long stay at this cafe.

you can feel the worries rising in your throat, but you take a sip of coffee to try to wash them down. it doesn’t work, but you don’t have the time to self-soothe right now. you only have so much time before it gets too dark and you have to return to your dorm.

your head is spinning with chemical equations and diagrams when the empty seat across you shifts. the muffled noise is enough to make you look up, and you notice a stranger hovering near the seat. the rest of the cafe is full.

“may i sit here?” he asks.

“sure.”

you pay him no mind as he settles down, and you continue studying.

half an hour and one finished coffee later, and you still aren’t done with that first chapter. your notes started out neat but have since devolved into a half-legible mess of symbols and equations that might as well be ancient runes to you. the last ten minutes were spent scrolling on your phone because you would rather distract yourself at this point. groaning, you throw down your pen and rub your face into your hands.

i’m not understanding anything.

the soft thwack of your pen against your textbook catches the attention of your table-mate, who has finished his pastry and is sipping his drink while typing some notes on his phone. you glance up at him and see the name scrawled on his coffee cup: taehyun.

he glances at your pen, then at your textbook, then up at you. “is this for a chemistry class?”

you nod.

taehyun examines the textbook again, then your notes. “oh, i took the same class last semester. do you want help?”

you want to yell oh my god, you’re a fucking lifesaver, but instead you say, “yes, please!”

you allow taehyun to flip through your textbook, even your messy notes. his eyes widen as he takes in every detail, and when he looks up at you he gives you a tiny smile. there’s a little sparkle in his eyes that washes down just a bit of your worries.

“this is pretty good progress you’ve made. you got the fundamental parts right.”

“oh, i… did?”

and here you thought your mind was just flailing around.

“yeah. you’re doing great.”

“but i’m slow.”

“it’s better to be slow and understand everything well than to be fast but not absorb anything,” he says. “do you have an exam coming up soon?”

“uh-huh… tomorrow. and i’ve got two more chapters after this.”

“oh.” taehyun blinks and goes quiet for a few moments, pondering what to do. at last, he picks up your pen. “you could probably go faster with some help, then.”

a wide smile spreads across your face.

taehyun guides you through each lesson, pausing once in a while to check if you can follow him. you resume taking notes and they’ve gotten neater again, and all the strange symbols and diagrams and equations start to make sense. the panic in you starts to fade away little by little, and the fog in your mind from all your worrying starts to clear. with that gone, you find yourself understanding each lesson much more quickly.

“you’re good at this,” you say as taehyun finishes drawing an example chemical structure on a napkin.

“i am?” he lets out a small chuckle and you blush a little. he’s sweet. “well, i did enjoy my chemistry classes last time. but it only really counts if you got to learn something.”

“i did, i honestly did,” you say, eyes scanning your notes.

taehyun follows your line of sight and once again you see the sparkle in his eyes. “that’s good, then. and i can tell from your notes too, you already figured a lot of it out. you’ll do fine in your exam.”

“you think so?”

“yeah, really.”

“well...” he’s right, you admit. you exhale slowly and allow your shoulders to slump a little bit. “thanks.”

in the end you manage to finish just two out of three chapters before it gets dark outside, but taehyun makes a cheat sheet to help you. you watch him as he scrawls his notes on a loose sheet of paper 一 oh, he’s a lefty! you note 一 then tucks it in between the pages of your textbook. as he slides the textbook over to you, he gives you one more look with wide eyes.

“good luck tomorrow. you can do it!”

“thanks! and, uh 一 thank you. i couldn’t have done it without you.”

taehyun lets out a little chuckle. it sounds tiny, but to your ears it could fill the whole cafe. “you should let me know how it goes. i’ll be here tomorrow too, same time.”

“oh...”

there it is again, the twinkle in his eyes. you feel yourself grow warm at his words as you look at him. you still have your exam to get through, but now you have something to look forward to tomorrow.

“sure, i’ll be here,” you say. “see you.”

5. huening kai 휴닝카이

perhaps a little ice cream will put you out of your misery.

the line for the ice cream truck in the park is long, as expected on such a hot day. one part of you understands this rationally, but another part of you is antsy, an inner five-year-old grumbling and stomping their feet on the verge of a temper tantrum. sure, everyone in this line is sweating under the sun as much as you are, but your patience is wearing thin and you just want that ice cream now. 

you would have been more patient if you’re getting that ice cream with your friends as originally planned, but your plans fell apart at the last minute. one by one, they texted you their reasons why they couldn’t make it: they have to work overtime at their job, their boyfriend suddenly showed up for a surprise date, their cat got hurt and had to be taken to the vet... by the time you read the last ones, you were already waiting at the park, your carefully planned outfit wasted and slowly being stained with sweat.

if it happened to someone other than you, you would have laughed at the unfortunate string of coincidences. but instead the sheer bad luck taunts you, and now all you can do is take out your handkerchief and wipe the sweat off your forehead with a sigh.

you don’t know how long it takes 一 perhaps a few minutes, perhaps an hour 一 but you finally make it to the front of the ice cream truck. you bounce on your heels as you turn to face the ice cream man, ready for a little bit of ice-cold, sweet comfort on an otherwise terrible day...

“sorry, we just sold out.”

“WHAT?!”

the ice cream man flinches. you didn’t mean to scream so loud, but the frustration building in up in you is just too much to hold back. the people in line behind you start to disperse, a few of them stopping to stare at you. you apologize for your outburst  but slink away in defeat, head bowed from resignation and sheer tiredness.

just then you feel a tap on your shoulder.

“uh... y-you can have mine...”

you turn around and see a young man with tousled black hair holding out a popsicle still in its packaging. he smiles sheepishly as he hands it to you. “sorry, i got the last one...”

with one look at him, whatever irritation and frustration you feel melts away. you can see the sweat around his forehead and the slump in his shoulders, then your eyes fall to the gym bag hanging by his side. he must have been exerting himself under the sun, you think, and there’s no way you can take an ice cream from someone like that.

“no, i’m 一 i’m sorry for shouting like that. you can have it.”

“no, it’s okay, i promise!”

“really, you don’t have to give it to me.” you start to walk away, hoping to deter him, but he only follows. “keep it, it’s gonna melt if you don’t eat it soon.”

“take it! please?” he steps to your side and you notice how much he towers over you. his face betrays his height, however 一 he glances at you with big, pleading eyes, and your resolve softens.

“okay, okay.” you take the popsicle from him and unwrap it.

the two of you sit down on a park bench. you taste a little bit of the popsicle, now soft from the heat, and the fruity flavor instantly gives you a little burst of energy. you smile as you dig in to the rest of it, trying to savor it before it melts.

you pause for a moment to look at the young man who handed you the popsicle. he looks content as he gazes out at the park scenery, without a hint of bitterness that you took his ice cream from him. he turns to you with a smile, and you can’t help the little flutter in your heart when he does.

“that looks so good,” he says.

“it is! uh, sorry i took it from you.”

“nah, it’s okay. they ran out of my favorite flavor anyway so i’m not too sad.”

“oh.” you finish the popsicle and place the wooden stick inside the packaging. “it would’ve been nice if we both had one, though. it’s really hot today.”

“yeah, dance practice was extra brutal today under the sun...”

“dance practice? oh my god, that sounds exhausting.”

“yeah, everything hurt so much! but i finally figured out our new choreo, so it’s okay.” he glances over at you and opens his mouth to speak again, only for him to look confused and turn away. oh, he’s a shy one.

you decide to fill in the silence. “do you want to hear something funny?”

“sure!”

you tell the stranger about the slow thwarting of your plans for the day: the sudden overtime, the surprise date, the cat at the vet. your companion’s eyes widen with each new detail. when you finish he starts out a high-pitched laugh, and the sound makes you laugh too.

then he realizes he’s laughing at you and he stops. “oh一! oh, i... that’s so unlucky... and the ice cream running out too... i’m so sorry.”

you shrug. “today’s just not my day.”

“i’m glad i gave you that ice cream, then. you needed it.”

“yeah... thanks.” you glance down to fiddle with the edges of the popsicle wrapper, and you feel your lips curl upward in a smile . just then an idea enters your head, and you look up to meet your companion’s eyes.

“do you want to meet up here again next week? maybe we can get an ice cream for the both of us next time. my treat.” you tilt your head at him. “i’m y/n, by the way.”

slowly a wide smile forms on your own companion’s face, and his eyes start to twinkle with giddiness. “y/n... ah, i’m kai. and i have outdoor dance practice here every week, so i’ll see you after?”

“that would be nice, kai.”

[journalofimprobablethings]

following the echo down

Jon looks up at Tim, whose eyes are fixed on the road, two fingers tapping out a rapid tattoo on the steering wheel. Who, Jon realizes, hasn’t actually looked at him once this whole time.

“This is real,” Jon says. His voice is hoarse with disuse.

Tim’s fingers go still on the wheel. He finally looks over at Jon—just a quick glance, before he returns his gaze to the road.

“Yeah, Jon,” he says. He sounds exhausted. “This is real. Put your seatbelt on.”

--

Anyone in need of some Circus-related JonTim angst?

Tim rescues Jon from the Circus in this one, and Jon isn't quite sure why. They both get a hug. It doesn't really fix things.

Full fic is below the cut, or you can read it on ao3 here.

-- It takes until Tim dumps him unceremoniously in the passenger seat of a battered Mini parked outside the wax museum for Jon to realize that this might actually be happening.

When Tim first appeared, kneeling in front of his chair to undo the ropes on his ankles while hissing at him to wake the fuck up, Jon, he was certain he was hallucinating. 

He’d long given up on the idea that anyone was coming for him. Georgie at least might have wondered where he went, but since he’d told her he was moving out, he wasn’t sure even she would notice anything amiss. And the others…well. He supposed they were probably grateful he was making himself scarce.

And even if one of them had thought to wonder, and cared enough to look—it wouldn’t have been Tim. Not now. Not after everything that had broken down between them.

 So he simply watched with a detached kind of interest as Tim picked at the knots at his ankles, then his wrists. He panted with relief when Tim pulled the gag from his mouth, but still made no effort to move on his own–if this was a hallucination, or a dream, he was afraid any movement he made would disrupt it, and he would be back where he’d been for weeks: shivering against the cold metal chair, trying to ignore the ache in his shoulders or the prickle of rope on his wrists.

He didn’t respond when Tim asked if he could walk, and he didn’t resist when Tim huffed in frustration and lifted him out of the chair, hefted him against his chest, and started for the door. 

When the mannequins finally appeared at the other end of the room to give chase, Jon closed his eyes, hoping he could somehow keep this from becoming a nightmare by sheer force of will. Even in a dream, he didn’t want to see Tim get torn apart. 

And so he didn’t see how close their pursuers might have gotten, or how Tim got them out of the museum. He only knew that suddenly, he felt the cool air of an early summer evening against his skin, and heard the sound of a car door opening, and now—

And now he’s sitting in the passenger seat of Tim’s car, with a soft, slightly pilled blanket on his lap, and Tim is slamming the driver’s side door and growling at him,

“Put your seatbelt on. I don’t need you flying through the windscreen.”

 He doesn’t wait for Jon to do so before he slams the car into gear and screeches away from the museum.

The details of it all are too real and specific and irritating for his mind to have conjured. There are crumbs on the seat under him, pricking at his thighs. The car smells of stale coffee and damp, like maybe someone left a wet umbrella in the footwell too long, and the water seeped into the carpeting. Jon looks at the blanket in his lap and  realizes that he recognizes it—Tim made it years ago, when they were in Research and he tried out crocheting to see if a handicraft would help soak up some of his endless, restless energy. It was the only thing he’d actually finished.

Jon looks up at Tim, whose eyes are fixed on the road, two fingers tapping out a rapid tattoo on the steering wheel. Who, Jon realizes, hasn’t actually looked at him once this whole time.

“This is real,” Jon says. His voice is hoarse with disuse.

Tim’s fingers go still on the wheel. He finally looks over at Jon—just a quick glance, before he returns his gaze to the road.

“Yeah, Jon,” he says. He sounds exhausted. “This is real. Put your seatbelt on.”

Jon does what he’s told. His hands are shaking so much it takes a couple tries, and by the time he succeeds, they’re on the motorway, the museum long gone in the distance behind them.

–

They don’t speak again for the rest of the drive.

At first Jon steals glances at Tim every few minutes, waiting for—he’s not sure. An explosion, maybe. A torrent of blame for forcing Tim to risk himself to rescue Jon’s useless, scrawny ass. In another life, he might have hoped for—even expected—some concern. Soft questions about how he’s feeling; whether he wants to talk about what happened (he doesn’t). Assurances that he’s safe. 

He knows better than to expect or hope for something like that now.

Jon pulls the blanket up over his shoulders and tucks his knees up against his chest, grateful for the novel sensation of being completely covered and warm. When it’s clear that Tim has no intention of talking, he leans his head back against the headrest and stares out the window, watching the headlights and night-time shadows streak past.

It’s hard to believe there’s a whole world out there, a world that kept on going the whole time he was trapped with Nikola. Kept right on going, perfectly fine, without him.

He pulls the blanket tighter around himself, and closes his eyes.

–

It’s not a surprise when Tim pulls up to the Institute. Jon doesn’t have a flat anymore, after all, and Tim doesn’t know Georgie’s address. And there was never a question, really, whether Tim would want Jon to stay with him.

Getting out of the car is an awkward shuffle, as Jon first tries to pull himself out under his own steam, keeping the blanket wrapped tightly around himself, but quickly discovers that his legs can’t hold him up just yet. Before he can say anything—an apology? a request for help? He’s not sure which—Tim is there, scooping him up just like he did at the museum.

Luckily, it’s late enough that there’s no one there to see.

When they make it down to the Archives, Tim deposits him on the break room sofa and disappears before Jon can find any words to thank him.

He supposes it doesn’t matter so much, in the end. Tim rescued him, brought him somewhere safe. It would be too much, surely, to ask him to stay.

At some point he’ll have to get up, find something to put on. For the moment, though, he can’t bring himself to move.

Jon pulls the blanket closer and looks around. The break room looks the same as it always has: the battered table with a wad of paper underneath one leg to keep it level, the mismatched chairs, the pile of old crossword-puzzle books that Jon is pretty sure were here when they all arrived. The corkboard by the door is covered in curling notices of workers’ rights and old post-it doodles. They’ve been there so long that Jon doesn’t remember who drew them. He wonders if any of them are Sasha’s.

It’s all so mundane, and familiar, and Jon doesn’t entirely know how to process it.

He knows this is real. It is.

But he doesn’t know how to reconcile a month of ropes and invasive plastic hands and constant, low-grade terror with the brightly-colored mugs sitting in the dish rack by the sink.

After everything that’s happened, you’d think he’d be better at this—handling the cognitive dissonance of eldritch horrors existing alongside the mundane details of daily life. But somehow it still surprises him.

His thoughts are interrupted by the break room door opening–it’s not loud or violent, but nevertheless Jon startles so hard he almost falls off the sofa. He clutches the blanket and breathes deeply, trying to calm his rabbiting heart.

“Sorry,” Tim says, though he sounds like he doesn’t know if it’s true.

“I-it’s all right,” Jon says. “I—” he takes another breath. “I thought you’d gone.”

Something undefinable flits across Tim’s face.

“Just went to grab your clothes. Here.”

Tim holds out a neatly folded stack that Jon recognizes. He’d taken to stashing a spare outfit in his desk, for the days that he stayed at work too late to catch the Tube home. 

He hadn’t realized Tim knew about it.

“I—thank you.”

He takes the clothes, expecting Tim to leave again immediately—but instead Tim just turns his back and studies the old doodles on the corkboard, clearly giving Jon space to get dressed.

It should make him feel embarrassed or awkward, but instead he finds that he’s oddly grateful not to be left alone.

Slowly, Jon begins the painstaking process of putting on clothes for the first time in a month. His joints are stiff and his fingers clumsy, and it takes about three times as long as it normally would. But still, he manages, and the relief at finally being clothed loosens just a little bit of the tension in his shoulders.

He takes the blanket from where he’d laid it on the couch and begins to fold it.

“All–er—-all done,” he says.

Tim doesn’t turn around straight away. Instead, he puts his hands in his pockets and studies his shoes.  “I need to tell you something. Before—before we talk more. And I think—” he hesitates. It’s the first time in months that Jon has heard him sound so uncertain. “I think I need to make it a statement.”

Jon blinks in surprise.

“Are you sure?” Jon asks. “I just—you—”

“Yeah, I know. You don’t have to tell me.” Tim huffs an angry sigh. “I don’t want to—to offer up this story to some spooky eldritch power. But I—you need to hear it. And I think—I might not be able to tell it any other way.”

Jon hesitates.

“Okay.”

Then Tim turns and holds out, of all things, a tape recorder.

For a second Jon just stares at it. It makes him think of that first time, back at the beginning, when Tim unearthed an old recorder at his request. When none of them knew what it meant, or what was coming.

It’s ironic, he thinks, that Tim was the one to bring the first recorder into the Archives, when now out of all of them, he’s the one that hates them the most.

“Tim, are you—”

“Don’t ask me again.” He shakes the recorder at Jon. "Let’s just do this.”

“All right.” Jon takes the recorder, goes through the motions of checking the tape inside by rote. He’s not looking at Tim when he starts the recording, but out of the corner of his eye he can see Tim stiffen at the click and hiss as the tape starts up.

“Statement of Timothy Stoker,” Jon says, “regarding…” He looks at Tim, questioning.

Tim takes a shaky breath. “The disappearance of… of my brother, Danny, four years ago.”

Right. God. Okay.

Jon looks once more at Tim, searching his face for…what? Hesitation? Fear? Tim catches him staring and glares back.

“Get on with it, then,” he says sharply.

Jon looks quickly back down at the tape recorder in his hands.

“Right. Um. S-Statement begins.”

–

They stand in what feels like an infinite stretch of silence once Tim finishes. 

Jon had offered none of his usual follow-up remarks, simply waiting to make sure Tim was done before saying quietly, “Statement ends,” and clicking the recorder off.

The ticking of the break room clock seems suddenly loud and insistent in the silence left behind.

Jon remembers when Tim first arrived in Research, the intensity with which he pursued sources about Robert Smirke and his architecture. He’d wondered, at the time, if Tim had had an experience like his own, a reason he’d come to the Institute beyond curiosity about the paranormal. But it wasn’t something that you could bring up in casual conversation, was it? And so he’d never asked.

He wonders if anything would have been different, if he had.

They’re still standing awkwardly in the middle of the break room, Jon clutching the recorder in both hands. He finally moves to set it down on the table, and it’s like a spell breaks over them—Tim takes a ragged breath and turns his face away, scrubbing angrily at his cheeks with the heel of his hand. Without the recorder to hold, Jon twists his fingers together into anxious knots. Even before all this, he was never much good at giving comfort. 

“I’m so sorry, Tim,” he says.

Tim lets out a short bark of bitter laughter. “Yeah. Well.”

“Is that why…?” Jon lets himself trail off. He realizes he’s not sure he wants to know the answer.

The question seems to hit Tim anyway. He tenses, his arms crossed, his hands clenched tight on his upper arms like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“I couldn’t—I wasn’t about to let them take someone else I—” 

He stops himself, and Jon can’t help looking up at Tim’s face, meeting his eyes for just a flash before Tim looks away.

“Someone else,” he finishes. “Not if I could help it.”

Jon nods. It helps, in an odd way, to know that there was a reason Tim came. To know that Tim still thinks of him as enough of a person to be worthy of being saved, the way he couldn’t save Danny. 

“I’m sorry I’m not him,” Jon says. “I’m sorry you couldn’t—”

“Don’t,” Tim says. “Just don’t.”

Even from several feet away, Jon can see the tension in Tim’s jaw, the taut bunch of his shoulders. Every instinct he’s developed over the past few months tells him he should stop talking—but he needs to say this. If he doesn’t say it now, he doesn’t know if he’ll get another chance.

“I know it can’t fix—I know it’s not—” He stops, trying to find a way to phrase what he wants to say without hurting Tim more than he already has.

“You saved me,” he says finally. “I didn’t think anyone would—” 

Tim flinches, and Jon stops again.

Oh. He hadn’t thought that would—

Hm.

Another try.

“I-I don’t want to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t come. You saved me, Tim.”

Tim says nothing. He doesn’t move, still turned partly away, carefully not looking at Jon the same way he’s been not looking at him all evening.

Conversation over, then, Jon thinks. He’s said his piece, and Tim heard it. That’s all he can do. And he’s tired; his legs are starting to tremble with the strain of standing. 

Jon starts to turn to go, to retreat to Document Storage and his sad little cot.

Then Tim moves towards him so fast that Jon flinches back on instinct. But instead of the expected blow, Tim pulls him into a fierce hug, so tight that it momentarily leaves Jon breathless.

It’s a strange hug. There’s no tenderness in it; Jon gets the sense that it’s not a hug for him at all, not really. It’s Tim’s way of assuring himself that Jon is here and real, that he succeeded, that at least in this one small battle against the Circus, he won.

Jon falls into it anyway. He lets himself bury his face in Tim’s shoulder, wrapping his arms up around Tim’s middle as tightly as he can manage, as if to say I’m here. Tim shudders, but he doesn’t let go.

“I’m still so angry with you,” he says into Jon’s hair. “I don’t know if I ever won’t be.” He takes a breath. "But I’m glad you’re okay.”

Jon can’t find any words to reply. He just tightens grip a little in what he hopes is a clear enough expression of acknowledgement, and thanks.

They stay like that for a moment, holding each other fiercely, a warm, steady anchoring in this strange moment.

Finally Tim’s grip loosens and he pulls away. Jon lets him go.

“For what it’s worth,” he says, “I am sorry. For everything.”

Tim’s lips twitch in a tiny, bitter smile. “I know,” he says. “Me too.”

After that, it doesn’t seem like there’s much more to say. They stand again awkwardly for a moment, not looking at each other, before Tim finally clears his throat and hooks his thumb towards the door behind him.

“I’m gonna–”

“Oh, yes,” Jon says. “Here, don’t forget your—” he grabs the blanket from where he’d left it neatly folded on the sofa, and holds it out to Tim.

Tim looks at it for a long moment, then glances up at Jon.

“You hang onto it,” he says. “It gets cold down here.”

Jon hesitates, then lowers the blanket.

“Right. I—thank you. For—” There are so many ways to end that sentence, but Jon finds that he’s run out of words. “Well. Thank you.”

Tim nods, and for once, Jon feels that they have actually understood each other.

And then Tim’s gone, the door hissing gently closed on its hydraulic hinges behind him. Jon stands for a moment, holding the blanket close to his chest.

Tim’s right. It is cold down here.

Jon makes his way on autopilot back to Document Storage. He doesn’t bother taking off any of his clothes, even his shoes. He spent too long with nothing to wear, and the idea of undressing—

Not tonight.

He curls up, fully clothed, on the creaky old cot. With Tim’s blanket wrapped around him, he actually manages to be warm.

Within minutes, he’s asleep, and for once, he doesn’t dream.

[kakaluvsha]

Heartbreaker .

childe ♡ fem!reader. modern au. exes. angst(if u squint). alcohol mentioned. this is based on justin bieber's song lol.

And I want you to know that I still love you

And I know the seasons may change

But sometimes love goes from sunshine to rain

But I'm under this umbrella and I'm calling your name

Childe has longed your love since the day you left him. For whatever reason it was, its on him. You were gone from his life for good, doing well and continued your career as an influencer. He still remained in your mind but despite that, you didn't pay any mind to reconnect any relations with him.

Until one day, Childe suddenly appeared in front of your door. He stood there drenched in rain, umbrella rested in his grip and on the broad shoulder of his but still managed to get wet. With nothing but a faint smile of his, and that gaze full with plea of wanting you back in his life.

"Any chance you'd stay right here, with me and never go away? I miss you."

"No, Childe. I don't wanna talk to you anymore."

And that was when everything repeats. It was better before when he didn't catch up with you, when he was still unseen from your sight. Now that he's here begging for your love back, you couldn't help but to feel slightly annoyed by it.

-

11:45pm, friday

Nothing like a late night party with your whole friend group. The club is packed with people, their bodies pressed against one another on the dance floor. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol and sweat, the music blaring loudly from the speakers. The colored lights flash frantically, bathing the crowd in a dizzying array of colors. Everywhere you look, people are dancing, drinking, and laughing, some more rowdy than others. You were enjoying every single moment of it. Drinking countless of liquor and other alcohol

After a long hours of dancing and going wild through the crowd, both you and your friend find your way to a bar. Others were still busy partying while you and your friend were already tired.

You both took a seat, chit chatting after ordering a refresher. The smell of alcohol and sweat mingled together with the scent of perfume and aftershave around the area, creating a unique and heady bouquet. People are drinking and flirting, some dancing and some just watching the action. The overall atmosphere is one of excitement and indulgence, as the night stretches on.

While you both continued to talk, you felt a light tap on your bare shoulder. Your friend already noticed who it was, then slowly turning her attention away from you with her eyebrows raised in disbelief. You were curious at her reaction, then decided to see who it was. You shifted your gaze behind, seeing the familiar ginger with his usual soft smile. You observed his figure up and down, wearing a black jacket over a white tank top, dark almost baggy jeans with a brown belt and white sneakers. He looks like he's just here for nothing.

"Hey."

Childe greeted you with his usual tone, hands stuffed into his pocket right after. He pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek, his eyes looking down at you wearing a Chic outfit featuring a silky asymmetrical black top, black mini skirt, pairs kf knee-high black boots along with a black handbag and a silver watch as your accessories along with a silver Cartier bracelet. His expression tells that he's enjoying the view, part of him irritated because of how revealing you look tonight.

You crossed your leg on another, facing towards him as you shifted. You looked at him with narrowed eyes, your jaw tensing slightly.

"What are you doing here?"

You asks, your voice laced along with the loud pumping of musics. Childe returns your eye contact with an even softer, yet teasing one.

"Can't i enjoy my time?"

He shrugs his shoulder, tilting his head slightly with a curved grin plastered on his face. It definitely makes you even more annoyed than you already were. You clicked your tongue, glaring at him slightly.

"Then enjoy it."

You say out of annoyance, turning your back to him. Before you could even do that, he took tour hand and held it in his larger ones. He gently caress the back of your hand with his thumb, staring at you intensely.

"Don't say you're going to leave me hanging like that."

His voice was filled with emotions, gazing through your darken irises deeply trying to find sympathy in it. You felt his hand softly holding yours, being carefully held with a gentle rub. You couldn't help but to feel a slight hint of comfort in it.

"Childe, we've been out of it for years now. Why can't you move on from me?"

You stayed in your seat, not bothering to lift a finger from his grasp. It was soft and delicate, running on your skin obsessively. Childe looks at you with plea in his eyes, his eyebrows slightly furrowed in sadness.

"Y/n, baby please?"

His voice cracked, the way he called you the old nickname made your heart thumps loudly as if going to break away from your chest. Your eyes remained on his face, shaking your head slightly at him with a disbelieving expression.

"You don't call me that."

You muttered, pulling away your hand from his grasp slowly as it fell to his side. The look of his after you responded was painful, sighing softly before stuffing his hands in his pocket once again.

"Right. Sorry."

He says, nodding right after then walking away from your sight. You were still there, sitting in silence and disgusted but your heart tells otherwise. Your friend turned to you again, her lips formed an 'O' as she was amused by the scene.

"Looks like someone has some love problems."

Your friend teased, ending her sentence with a laugh. You mentally cannot comprehend why he would be pining for you this long. You've been enjoying life at its fullest, and Childe decided to come back right at this moment? Your mind still cloudy from his sudden appearance, your eyes looked away from your friend, not responding to her. What was Childe's problem anyway?

-

7:55am, sunday

It was a normal morning between you and your beloved morning breakfast. Casually eating while you edit your recent vlogs on the laptop. Images of Childe from the other night still flashed inside your head, seemed likely to not leaving your mind anytime soon. The sound of faint clicks of the laptop's keyboard companied with the slight noises of the air conditioner.

Its been only a day since the meeting between the two of you. And yet, he was still running around your head.

Childe's pov

Why can't i fucking win her back? This is too embarrassing. She's too ignorant to me that night and it seriously, is infuriating me so much. My head is hurting from thinking about her, and only her.

I laid there in my bed, toned body shivered slightly at the coldness of my room. Her face from the night before still remained in my head like its some kind of drug. I sighed deeply, rethinking about how to exactly apologise to her in a best way possible. Then, an idea popped in my mind.

Why busy use emotions when i could just.. bring her a big bouquet of roses?

-

Your pov

Choosing an outfit for yet another vlog seems quite the challenge. You stood there in front of your opened closet, with your small camera for recording stuff sat on your vanity, it still records you from the back. Your hum was silent, trying to match a skirt with some good top.

Then, a light knock on your door echoed through the house. You perked your head towards the sound, dropping your clothes on the bed before walking away. You were weirded out of how someone would be visiting you right at this moment. You click open the lock, the door swung open and there it is. That tall young man.

Your expression sullen, sighing deeply at the sight. You crossed your arms together over your chest. Then your gaze move downward, surprised to see a big handful of roses bouquet with a black wrappings around them. You were taken aback by the sudden sight, glancing your eyes back to Childe again.

"Are you serious?"

Your tone unpleasant. Childe had that same small smile on his lips. But despite that, his teeth carved nervously on his bottom lip in hope you would at least accept this one time.

"My heart's dead without your love."

He muttered whilst looking down to the roses, delicately caressing his fingers over them.

"I'm sorry for everything, baby. Despite all the imperfections of who i am, i still wanna be your man."

His voice was soft and its aching your heart too much at this point. The way he sounded so sincere, and being all dressed just to show up in front of your house. You considered his apology, staring at him with a blunt expression. Your throat guttural, unable to mutter a single word at him. Then Childe cleared his throat, changing his tone slightly.

"I just want you to know that i still love you. Even if you're just going to push me away from your life."

He says, the bouquet shift slightly closer to you. As your arms slowly made its way to take the big bouquet, your hands brushed against his. The feeling, definitely reminded something in your chest. You missed him, his touch and his presence. But you can't be seen with him anymore. You can't be coming back to him, not when you promised yourself you would never be involved in his life no more. His heart fluttered in his chest at your response, in joy of hour approval.

"Careful with my heart."

-

It has been weeks since both of you had an intense meeting. Nevertheless, it leads you to hear his voice more often. You gave him your new phone number as an exchange for the roses, its hard to believe but you really did it. Ever since that, he sends you lots of morning and night messages. Even though he sometimes go silent all day, then he's definitely going to hit you with a late night call.

His voice makes you feel something else. The longed feeling you both had been crave for, finally feeds into you. His usual lame jokes, never fails to at least makes you laugh softly. He loved it, and you do too. But neither of you wanted to be anything else more than this. At least that's what it was.

One evening, he told you to dress nicely out of nowhere after disappearing the whole morning. It makes your mind wonder where he wanted to bring you to. You, without any thoughts casually left him on read. You were hesitant, not wanting to be caught with him again. Despite having loads of followers and them paying attention to everything about your life, you didn't want any posts about the both of you and Childe going around social medias.

6:34pm, Wednesday

You stood there outside your house, in a simple delicate white ribbed crop top with a criss cross strap design and a white tie at the front, with a black mini skirt with a side slit, along with black strappy heels. You waited, then seeing a familiar black coloured car approaching to you. It was him. He walked out of the driver seat, greeting you with a soft smile as he opened the passenger door for you.

The air between you were uncomfortable, the only thing that fills the silence is the vehicle's noises and faint musics playing from the radio. Childe noticed the slight uneasy look of you, he decided to break the silence with a small laugh.

"You okay?"

He questioned, his eyes glued to the road whilst his hand rested on the steering wheel and the other on the gearshift. You glanced towards his side, taking in Childe's casual and minimalist look. You returned your gaze ahead to the road back, humming quietly.

"As always."

Your replies were same, short and unfazed. He was used to that, knowing you would get comfortable slowly by the time. You shouldn't be putting too much hope on him, regarding his past mistakes that he's currently fixing right now. It just doesn't sit right to you.

The night went well, but the ride home wasn't. It was already dark out, Childe drove you home. You wouldn't say his efforts were wasted. But the thoughts of him doing it all over again just change your mind about everything. You wandered in your own head while looking outside the window, building passes by you in a normal pace. Childe took notes of every changes you make while sitting in the silence with him one again. You regained your composure, ready to break the uneasy silence.

"I think i'm not ready for another go."

Your sudden words pierced through his heart deep. Oh how he was enjoying the moments with you, laughing and shared everything together again. You stood there at your door in front of the him, he left his car just outside your gate. His voice shaky whilst asking for a reason for your sudden change. His hand held gently around your wrist, not wanting to let you go any sooner.

"Childe, please. I can't do this anymore. Can't be seen with you again."

You finally muttered. He understood that, but he still wanted you to stay. He wanted you to be his forever. His grip on your wrist stayed loose, the pad of his thumb caressing your hand delicately as he looked down at you with his eyebrows furrowed together in sadness.

"Y/n, baby. I know it hasn't been easy for us to talk with everyone being around."

He says, his voice gentle. He knew that, he knows you too well. But his feelings weren't to lie for. He was being honest with everything, about winning you again. His expression saddened as you left him outside your house without a single reply. His heart sank deep while walking back to his car, speeding to his own place angrily.

The night only continues with his constant begging from messages. You tried to ignore him. But yet your thumbs finds its way to hover the keyboard while settling the problem with Childe;

:/

Please Y/n i'm sorry okay? I don't wanna lose you, or what we have.

Read

:/

I hope you believe in us, the way i believe in us.

Read

:/

I still hope for you baby.

Read

His gut wrenching text was to only be left on read. Your phone faced to the ceiling while you cried your heart out onto the pillow. You weren't sure for this. You can't trust him that easily, not yet. It was hurting both of you, one wanted to be away from the other whilst the other wanted to fixed their relationships.

It was definitely a bad idea to be in touch with your ex again, moreover to being friends. This is exactly what you've been thinking about. The stress of thinking about relationships.

.

Please stop, Childe. If you're not going to sleep anytime soon and keeps on texting me like this i might block your number again.

Read

Your text was very, very clear. It took him minutes to think about a response back. His thumbs hovering over the keyboard nervously as he types.

:/

You're right. But i've countless nights where i don't sleep at all thinking about you, How hard it is to go and text you while you sleep peacefully.

Read

:/

Don't tell me you're my heartbreaker, my heart's already shattering at the thought of you not being here.

Read

You don't see, 'cause what you don't see, is when we don't speak

I really don't sleep, I wanna talk to ya

And if I had the world in my hands, I'd give it all to ya

I wanna know if you feelin' the way that I'm feelin'

Hey! Back with another one. I deleted my Aventurine fic lol im not quite satisfied with it. Replacing it with this small Childe one ;) ! Lately i've been listening to this song haha i apologise if there's any word errors or if it doesn't make sense with the song. (P.s i love exes au sm.)

[fridayth13]

Hi! Can I request one of my favorite tropes: getting caught in the rain with Simeon and Diavolo?

—when you get caught in the rain

↳ diavolo and simeon × gn!reader (separately)

↳ genre: fluff | wordcount: 400+ | warnings: physical touch, playing in the rain (simeon)

↳ notes: sorry this took so long hdshkfdjdfhj but hi, thank you for the rq ^^ it was really fun once i actually got around to it hgdgjgdhhdh

—diavolo: he gives you his jacket

"....oh dear."

he only wanted to walk you home :(

diavolo had worked tirelessly for the past week to get all his paperwork done so he could see you

this just happened to be the lucky day he finished early and found you before you left rad

well. it was lucky

and he supposed it still was.. besides the rain

really, he didn't mind so long as he got to be in your company.. but he wasn't entirely sure if you felt the same

you seemed to notice the disappointment on his face

"hey, it's alright. let's go find a cafe to take cover in for now. how about it?"

it was amazing how you could do that so easily, he couldn't help but think. you just seemed to take bad situations and make them better wherever you went

the smile that appeared on his face as he looked at you comes easily

diavolo chuckled to himself, quickly shrugging off his jacket as the rain started to grow a little heavier

he placed the jacket around you, pulling the collar over your head to cover you

his large hand finds the small of your back as he briskly walks you towards town

"that would be delightful, mc."

and now you have a happy diavolo <3

—simeon : he asks you to dance

well, simeon can't say he expected this, but he isn't too bothered

"rain certainly has its own timing, doesn't it?"

you and simeon found yourself stranded under a bus stop on the way to the library for a study session

thankfully, you didn't seem too perturbed about the situation either

"i used to want to play in the rain as a kid"

simeon smiled. "oh?"

"yeah.. i mean, who doesn't? seems like it'd be fun."

simeon hummed in agreement. then you watched as his expression lit up. the angel only laughs when you raise an eyebrow at his demeanor

"aha.. don't worry, don't worry. i just had an idea, is all."

"oh. what is it?"

"depends. do you still want to go out dancing in the rain?"

most angelic blessings don't really work on himself, but simeon was happy to give you a temporary shielding halo to act as a mini-umbrella

though simeon didn't quite enjoy his clothes sticking to his skin with the rainwater, he found that the excitement in your eyes was more than worth it

especially as he took your hand in his and pulled you into a twirl

why, he was so enamored with you, he couldn't bear to hide his delight when you decided to twirl him back right after

dividers from @clutteredfun

[slugtranslation-hypmic]

In osaka dreamin' night, there's a line rosho says like "I'll become a disciplinary top breeder", and I have no idea what he means 😭 do the jp lyrics/translation mean something specific?

Haha, I had that exact same question fairly recently, so I did some Googling to try and figure out what the heck a "ブリーダー" (breeder) really entails. In short? "Educator."

If anyone's ever watched the Pokemon anime, you know how Brock is called a Pokemon breeder? It's not because he literally breeds Pokemon together to make new Pokemon--instead, he focuses on raising his existing Pokemon to grow up happy and healthy. Pokemon breeders focus on keeping their Pokemon well-groomed, like particularly invested pet owners. In Japanese, the notion of keeping/raising a pet is intertwined with bringing up and teaching kids (same verb, 養う). Then in the verse the "top breeder" line appears in, Sasara and Roshou are doing a mini manzai act themed around teaching in a nod to Roshou's teaching career. Through the use of some of the images in the song, he compares the slapstick used in manzai to physical violence associated with training (think a lion tamer with a whip) and ties that back into the universal "Yeah, yeah, I'm so cool, I'm the best rapper ever and I'm beating you with my sick-ass lyrics!" thing that's in every Hypmic rap ever. That's the マイク握れば容赦はしない 教育し直す恐怖の一夜 part: "Once I have my mic, you're a goner. Watch out, I'm going to re-educate you so hard!" sort of feeling. The しつける ("disciplinary") is part of that too--"disciplining" or teaching or training. Which in turn falls under the same umbrella of 養う, bringing up or teaching kids. To make a long story short, it's tying together several ideas that usually aren't associated in English, which is why this line causes such confusion with English audiences. But he's essentially saying "I'm an amazing teacher, and I'm just as amazing at 'schooling' you with my mic." That's my understanding of it. This rap is definitely one of the more obtuse ones, though.

[babydollmarauders]

DRINK — JACK HUGHES

jack hughes x fem!reader

FAITHLYNN’S 500 CELLY!

🌷: "I'm too sober for this." "You don't even drink." “Maybe I should start.” & “how drunk was i?” with Jack.

notes: i’ve run out of ideas for the first prompt so i’m glad this is the last request with this one lol i think i’ve done this prompt like six times

with the all-star break starting, Quinn has flown into New Jersey to spend some time with Jack before we all go down to Florida to watch Jack play. which means Jack and Quinn have decided we must go out tonight. which is why i currently find myself tucked under Jack’s arm in a booth at a club.

“another beer?” Quinn asks as he stands up. Jack nods in agreement and Quinn heads toward the bar, leaving Jack and i alone. my boyfriend looks down at me with a goofy smile, stretching his neck down to press a kiss to my forehead.

“how you doing, baby? you’ve been quiet.” his words are barely audible over the music thumping through the speakers.

“i’m good, babe!” i grin up at him. “i just feel sorta out of place. you guys are all drinking and i feel like i’m too sober for this.”

“babygirl, you don’t even drink.” Jack chuckles, and i shrug.

“maybe i should start. it’s not like there’s a reason that i don’t. i just never have.” i tell him. he hums in thought.

“well i’m not saying you should; but if you decide to, i can go grab you a cocktail. i don’t think you’d really like beer.” he offers and i give him a soft smile.

“you’re so sweet. i would really appreciate that.”

“okay, i’ll go grab you one.” he rises from the booth and i call out a thank you as he walks toward the bar as Quinn returns.

“where’s he going?” he asks me, sitting back down and sliding Jack’s beer over in front of his seat.

“to get me a drink.” i inform him.

“you’re drinking?” he questions, raising a brow, and i nod.

“yeah, i’m gonna give it a try.” i tell him. we sit in silence on our phones as we wait for his brother. it’s about five minutes before Jack returns, holding a cocktail with a mini umbrella.

“one tequila sunrise for my beautiful girlfriend.” he announces, setting the drink down in front of me as he slides back into his seat.

“thank you, baby.” i tell him. i eye the drink cautiously, making the boys chuckle, before i take a sip.

“oh, that’s dangerously good.” i speak. Jack laughs, wrapping his arm back over my shoulder.

“just let me know if you want another one.”

**

i wake in my bed, a heavy weight pressed over my stomach and my head pounding. i groan, stretching out my limbs, and the weight on my tummy shifts. i open my eyes and i’m unsurprised to find Jack next to me in bed, his arm being the weight wrapped around me.

he stirs from my movement and groans as well.

“babe, go back to sleep.” he mutters, burrowing his face into my neck.

“i’m trying, but my head is killing me.” i whine, raising my hand to cover my eyes. Jack huffs out a laugh.

“yeah, that’ll happen when you drink as hard as you did.” he tells me.

“oh god.” i cry out. “i didn’t do anything embarrassing, did i? i can’t really remember much.”

“nothing out of the ordinary.” he says. “we danced some. we played some pool. you asked Quinn if you could set him up with your sister so that he could become your brother. and when he denied that, you asked me if we can get married instead then. and then you may have cried a little when i said we couldn’t get married last night but to talk to me again when you were sober.”

“oh my god. how drunk was i?!” i question.

“uhh, very. but, hey, at least now i know you’ll say yes when i propose some day.”

-

[thiccpersonality]

Do you, mayhaps, mean Ramadan?

It was a beautiful morning in Gotham, surprising every individual of the usually smoggy and dull city. Today the weather decided to treat all Gothamites kindly with a very spring feeling day! The sun was out, the weather was warm enough to feel comfortable and not too hot while the breeze blew just enough to feel a pleasant kind of cool, and the Wayne family has decided to take advantage of such gorgeous weather.

Bruce and his cousin Kate Kane sit under a large umbrella, the woman sipping on her ice cold lemonade while she gets Stephanie to slather some sunscreen on her.

Bruce himself sipping on his strawberry lemonade while watching his children have fun, his youngest child curled up next to his chair while sitting on his pool towel and finishing up homework so he can-in his own words-"demolish his siblings in pool games."

Bruce sighs in contentment while situating his sunglasses on his nose and reaching a hand down to gently pat Damian's head, the boy unconsciously leaning up into his hand while writing down more stuff into his workbook. Bruce is just glad that his youngest was able to enjoy himself today, the young boy was disappointed at not being able to go to boxing classes today, his two teachers couldn't make it today.

The small, peaceful moment is interrupted by Damian gasping softly as if he's remembered something. The boy sending a quick glare Jason and Richard's way when they start splashing water the youngest boy's way. Bruce quickly lowers his glasses so he can look at his baby son properly and look at him curiously, "What's wrong? Is everything alright?"

Damian finishes up the last of his homework and looks up at his dad while nodding. "Oh, yes father. Everything is just fine. I just realized the reason my two boxing teachers couldn't teach me today."

Kate sips at her drink and waves her hand at Stephanie, signaling to the girl that she can finally leave to play in the pool, the redhead ignoring Bruce's small glare at her for using his kids as personal servants. The woman focuses her eyes on Damian and smiles, "Oh, yeah? And what reason is that?"

Damian looks up in intense thought, "It's because they are celebrating Muhammad-uh...Muhammadan? Muhammad Ali day!"

A loud burst of laughter comes from the edge of the pool, the three turning to look at Tim-who has leaned over the edge of the pool-curiously. "Damian, do you mean Ramadan?"

Damian blushes and looks down embarrassed while his siblings bust out laughing at his cute mistake. Bruce holding in his laughter long enough to wait for his baby son to dive into the pool and out of hearing range with the threats of drowning his siblings for daring to mock him.

(I totally head cannon that Kate Kane uses Bruce's many children to help her as personal servants 😂. Not in a mean way, but she takes advantage of the free help since he has so many, she gets annoyed at how he keeps such good track on them though...it makes it more difficult to steal them away lol.

And this was based off of something me and my twin's baby brother said. He was trying to think of and say Ramadan, but he said "Muhammadan" and "Muhammad Ali Day" instead. We had a good laugh at that one.

You darlings please stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always and I hope all and any were able to enjoy this short and simple mini-fic thing? 💛)

[ladyvialana]

Very much enjoyed the first season of The Dead Boy Detectives.

It was fun, with great characters, interesting storylines, good pacing, and a fantastic ability to balance light-hearted storytelling with some pretty fucked up content at times.

Episode 1 was a little clunky and exposition heavy, but it's only really in that first episode (unlike fucking Wednesday!) and it's pretty easy to look past once they get into the main story. The rest of the episodes are much smoother.

Character interactions are great and all of the characters feel rounded with an actual backstory that influences their interactions and distinct personalities and traits that affect their actions. They're not just plot devices or vehicles for narrative.

Before going into any more detail, I'll just say I really enjoyed it. It's probably not as sophisticated or polished writing or style-wise as The Sandman, but it's still a really good spin off. I'd almost put it in the same vein, tone-wise, as The Umbrella Academy, though perhaps not as irreverent. Much better than similar Netflix teen supernatural dramas like Wednesday or Sabrina (and probably more mature and sophisticated, storytelling-wise than those shows).

I really enjoyed it, am looking forward to/hoping for a second season, and will definitely be watching again.

*

More detailed spoilers under the cut for those interested in my opinions about a few specific storylines/characters/episodes:

*

SPOILERS:

I am honestly surprised we don't have more people hitting on Charles. He is genuinely charming and charismatic as well as kind of open and sincere. Like, Edwin's a standoffish Edwardian public school boy with weird interests and zero people skills. I adore him. But he has negative charisma, especially compared to Charles' eyeliner and grin. Like, why is everyone chasing after Edwin? It's a role reversal I can definitely get behind, but no one is trying to get up into Charles' personal space aside from Crystal? Really??? And even she probably wouldn't have gone for it if he hadn't made it obvious he was interested in her first. Like, I really do get what the writers were trying to go with here, but it's one of those choices that kind of stretch narrative believability a little.

In saying all of that, I'm kind of a sucker for queer pining arcs that could go either way. So the not-so-subtle reveal of Edwin's feelings was both beautiful and painful in the best ways.

Episode 7 was a highlight for me. I'd been waiting for the pay-off from Edwin's backstory and the hellfire sword hanging over his head. But the flashback to Charles' death was probably my favourite scene in the series. Everything about that episode was fantastic, from the tension to the individual mini character arcs in the episodes (Nico coming in clutch with her reading comprehension skills! Crystal finally kicking David's ass!), to the beautiful release of the confession in Hell. I loved all of the insight we got into all of the main characters, knowing the truth of the kind of people they are. Knowing that, yeah, these are all good people who would do anything to help, and who love fiercely. But also, that doing what you can for the people you love sometimes involves meat cleavers and Molotov cocktails.

[apomaro-mellow]

Taking Care of Business (And My Business is You) 16

Part 15

If yall wanna watch the scene that inspired the motorcycle bit and some beautiful 90's animation, check out episode 5 of Golden Boy

Also some warnings for this chapter and the story going forward: pill tampering, unplanned pregnancy, abortion, religious guilt

The very next day, Eddie was spirited away onto a plane that took them down to Florida. Robin came along as it was supposed to be a mini vacation and a bit of pack bonding before Eddie had to do real jobs for the family. Eddie found flying to be less scary than he had expected, but maybe that’s because he had Steve next to him. 

The property they came to was right on the beach and bleached white from the sun. Eddie was hoping Steve packed sunscreen otherwise he’d be competing with the lobsters on the menu. There were attendants at the villa but for the most part the three of them were left to their own devices, which suited them all just fine.

This wasn’t just about relaxing. Robin had found some leads and Steve was helping to connect the dots. The trio sat outside on the patio, under an umbrella. The pool beside them glittered in the sun. Steve was a bit of a distraction, wearing an open shirt that billowed in the wind that blew. Between their cocktails were photos and files. One that Eddie had seen before. The man who had taken out Francesca Marini.

“Nando Orellana. He was found a few days after what he did, died of bullet wounds”, Robin said. “Before now, he just seemed a random thief, caught in the act.”

“But recently, we found out he worked for the Pedrazzi family”, Steve said before taking a sip.

Eddie blinked at the new information. “Pedrazzi…the guy I was roughing up last night said some Pedrazzi were in town.”

Another family being in the area, and Eddie knew for a fact that they hadn’t come to meet with the Marinis. That slight couldn’t be overlooked. Even brief visitors paid their respects to whoever ran the town. 

“My mother and nonno hated the Pedrazzis”, Steve said. “But they wouldn’t put a hit out on her so blatantly. If one of their men was under orders to kill my mother, they might’ve made an agreement with my father.”

“Like what?”, Eddie asked.

“Like trading me for something he wanted”, Steve replied with a shrug.

Marriages of convenience weren’t odd in the mafia world. But to marry your heir off to a family that was hated by the previous don and your own wife. It was spitting in the face of their values. Steve appreciated the look of disgust on Eddie’s face.

“We all know that man doesn’t care about the right way of doing things”, Robin said. “He doesn’t care if the Marini name is dragged through the mud so long as he comes out on top. He’s always been a Harrington first and only.”

“He doesn’t care about this family”, Eddie said, surprising himself with how much conviction was in his voice.

“We’re still looking to find a concrete connection”, Robin said. “Something that points to him having contacted one of the Pedrazzi or even Nando.”

“If they’re in town, it’s likely my father is planning something else”, Steve put his drink down. “And if that’s the case…my grandfather could be in danger.” If the objective was to arrange a marriage for Steve, first his grandfather would need to be taken out. It felt like they were running out of time.

Robin reached out and grabbed his hand. “We’re so close Stevie. And as soon as we can implicate your father, we can oust him.”

Steve held tight to her and smiled. His scent had started to turn bitter but it went back to sweet right away. After that debriefing, Robin went out shopping, leaving the two of them alone. The beauty of having the place to themselves was having no need to hide away and keep things limited to the bedroom.

Steve had him pushed up against a wall, not that far from the pool. “So what are we going to do with ourselves now?”

There was an image that hadn’t left Eddie’s head the moment Steve had brought it up and since they were all alone…

“You wouldn’t happen to have a garage here?”

Steve grabbed his hand and led him around, taking him to the garage where there were two sports cars and a motorcycle. He’d been confused at Eddie’s request until he saw the bike and remembered what he told the alpha about his induction night. Sure enough, the moment he released his hand, Eddie held him from behind, hands taking advantage of the open shirt to tease his chest. 

“You said you almost got off while riding”, Eddie breathed into his ear. He kissed down his neck slowly. “I want you to show me.”

The garage was closed and anyone who worked here had been in the business for years. They knew to keep their distance lest they saw something they shouldn’t. But still, there were a couple of windows and they hadn’t done anything this open since the car. Steve’s body warmed as his nipples were pinched. Then Eddie pulled his hands away.

Steve walked over to the motorcycle. He bit his lip as he ran his fingertips across the seat. He only took a second to think about how the leather would feel before he was pushing his swim trunks down and swinging a leg over. He looked up and Eddie was already palming himself through his own pants. Steve sat down and the seat was warm. He let out a sigh as he started to grind, letting his mind go back to that night. He had seen in that moment a future with Eddie. He lifted up and saw a tiny wet spot already on the seat.

With a grin, he turned the key in the ignition and got it started. His eyes met Eddie’s and without breaking contact, he sat back down. A moan bubbled forth from deep in his chest as the engine rumbled between his legs, vibrating against his lips and clit. That night he had seriously thought about stopping on the side of the road and doing this, just because he had been so keyed up.

Eddie would have smelled it on him right away then. Everyone would have. The thought of showing up in front of all those men, scented of arousal and then letting Eddie take his prize…show them all that only this alpha was worthy of him…only this one could make him like this…

Eddie grabbed Steve’s chin. When did he get so close? He kissed him, almost too gently for how far gone Steve already was but then he pushed his tongue inside.

“Bellissimo…go ahead baby. I wanna see you cum, wanna see it drip all down.”

“Eddie…”, Steve’s hand squeezed the throttle and he ground down even harder.

He felt Eddie’s hand come up to the back of his head, gripping it tight and forcing him to look into his eyes as he came, clit throbbing against the leather as more slick made him slide up and down. He turned the engine off and when he looked down the seat shiny with it, as was the inside of his thighs. Eddie bent down and grabbed Steve’s discarded trunks. Steve’s lust-addled mind was a little confused as he walked away and put the trunks on the counter, pushing a few tools out of the way.

But then he came back over and picked Steve up, an easy feat when his legs were jelly, and sat him on top of the shorts. He lifted a leg over his shoulder and pushed down his pants. He rubbed the head against him and Steve’s hips bucked, already trying to get it inside.

“You ready for me?”

“Always”, Steve moaned.

Eddie began to push in, his forehead coming to rest on Steve’s shoulder. It was so fucking wet and hot it was like his dick was melting in ecstasy. He got it honestly, how others vied for his hand, all just wanting a taste of what Steve’s body could offer. But they’d never get it, what it really meant to be in this position. To have this trust. Not only that but to have this duty, this sacred mission to bring him over the edge and love on him in all ways possible.

For the next week days were for Robin and nights were for Eddie. But sometimes Robin got nights and Eddie got days. Sometimes all three of them spent all day together. Walking the beach, enjoying the boardwalks, gazing up at stars, debating each other’s tastes in movies. Robin and Eddie found they shared a love for niche titles and a general disdain for rom-coms.

But while Eddie and Steve both enjoyed action movies, Robin found them mostly trite trash. Steve felt content on the way back home. He had both a right hand and a left now. And during their vacation, Steve made it clear that as his capo, Eddie answered and reported only to him. He wasn’t his father’s errand boy, nor did he work for anyone else.

To which Eddie replied that he’d been Steve’s since the moment he sponsored him. The first order of business was making their rounds and introducing Eddie and his new position. Of course, that info would have traveled already that the Marini heir had his own capo now, but it was only respectful to go out and introduce yourself. Word of mouth was only gossip until it came out of the right mouth.

Steve took Eddie out on the same collection route as before, this time, heads inclined Eddie’s way as they acknowledged what he’d already done for the family and what he would do. 

Going from sunny and warm Florida to Indiana in the winter was definitely a change. But it gave Eddie an excuse to adjust Steve’s scarf. Christmas approached and Eddie wondered what sort of gift a capo got their boss. 

Steve had been trying to think of gift ideas, the holidays were in a week and things would get busy for a while, when he suddenly had to rush to the bathroom as a wave of nausea hit him. Robin looked up from the card game they had been playing. 

“Did you eat something weird?”, she asked when he returned.

“No”, Steve said, throat wrecked a bit from vomiting. 

Robin’s eyes narrowed. That was the third time this week he’d gotten nauseous out of nowhere. She’d seen Steve through some of his more wild days, when he’d been drinking himself stupid. He didn’t do that anymore, so hangover sickness wasn’t it. And if he hadn’t been eating anything weird…

“Steve…”, Robin looked around before getting up. They were in one of the many sitting rooms the mansion held. And walls had ears. She whispered something in his ear and then sat back down. He was frozen for only just a moment before he picked up his cards and continued to play until the game was done. 

Once it was, he called Eddie and sent him out on a simple errand. When Eddie arrived, he could tell something was off about Steve but kept himself neutral. The three of them had dinner with Steve’s father and a few other members of the family. But afterwards, Eddie was sent home. Steve and Robin went up to his room and he let out a breath.

He took out what Eddie and brought to him earlier. Feeling extra cautious, he had taped the small box of birth control pills inside the water tank of his toilet. He took a pill from his box and then opened up his bathroom cabinet, taking a pill from the dispenser inside there. He put them both on the sink and used a shampoo bottle to crush them.

One broke apart into fragments, all the same color throughout, some of it powdery as it was crushed to a fine dust.

The other cracked like a shell, revealing a dark brown center. Chocolate.

Someone had tampered with his birth control. And now he was carrying Eddie’s pup.

Robin put a hand on his shoulder, giving him a moment to let him process it all. She could feel him shaking under her touch. He wanted to shout, to break something, anything. But whoever did this was waiting for this moment. Waiting to catch him in the throes of finding out and then… and then he didn’t know what. Either way it was clear this was a part of someone’s plan.

So he needed to keep the facade that nothing had changed. He did turn into Robin’s arms and hug her tight though. No one outside this bathroom had to know that they both sunk down to the floor and that she stroked his hair as he cried.

Part 17