#roree talks

[bugsnaxalternatebadend]

Truck...

_"where?"_

(drawing Sebastian is still hard, I'm not used to drawing grumpuses like this)

[maks-punchout-hyperfixtion]

*cracks knuckles* ay folks you get a tumbler exclusive for awhile because I'm to lazy to actually go onto ao3

Reminder time!! This is my a.u and is not a direct depiction of spo/wii aran Ryan's personality

Tw's: slightly detailed injuries, reference to Macbeth, and self harm by hot water

Thanks to: @atypical-artisan for helping with errors and formatting

“Aran! C’mon we're going to be late!”

Absolutely no response came from the guy. Having Andrew sigh as if it was a daily occurrence now.

“Give the kid a break this is the longest he’s been separated from Ardin since..” Roree took her brush and tapped it seven times before snapping. “Since that time the school separated them by accident!”

“Roree, that's not something to be excited about.” Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don't got time for this! I have a match in an hour!”

“Andy it's not until 3.”

“If you're not early you're-”

“late blah blah blah you know i think Deedee knows a german fella you would love.”

“If I wasn't pissed already I would smack you.”

“Oh I would love to see you try!”

Andrew growled and Started to head upstairs, muttering about the upcoming fight. And complaining about Lucky being a whole sea away for another disaster, as he turned and opened the door.

“Aran!- I said- down Cu- I said come on!” Andrew pushed the dog down before giving it a small pat. He looked directly at the bed that had Aran in it. “I know you ain't sick lad, otherwise we would have been to the doctors already… again…”

“i rather be there then see another one of ye go against the bi-”

“Watch your tone.”

Andrew attempted to step over the random clothing and items on the floor, the kid loved to do big projects but god forbid he cleans his room, as he then took Aran’s blanket and pulled them off.

“Hey!”

“You’re goin’. I'm not leaving you: a teenager who witnessed his twin get sent to the hospital because of a damn cheater, alone in a house with more than enough to make us wo-OW!”

Aran slid a pair of horseshoes onto Andrew's foot, and despite seeing it coming it still hurt. Andrew shook his foot before glaring at Aran and picking up the horseshoes.

“You're going, rather you're being willing or not. And I can hold up me own with you so I suggest-”

“Yeah I'm feckin’ going lieutenant bollox.”

That got a smack from Andrew as Aran got up. Who just rolled his eyes and grabbed a sleeveless hoodie from the ground. Andrew rolled his eyes before sighing.

“Ye know we care about ya right?”

“Mhm.”

“..look Aran I promise that im goin’ to remind her not to fuck around with us.”

“And how will you do that?”

Aran took a glance at the horseshoes before stuffing them in his own hoodie’s pocket.

“Going with a different style.”

There were multiple reasons why Andrew never cheated. First, it reminded him of how unfair the world could truly be, the second stemmed from Ardin who once saw Aran break his hand from the horseshoe in glove tactic and now gets on top of people who do that. The 3rd reason was self explanatory, it was just wrong. He got here fair and square and he always wanted to stay like that.

Plus hitting a girl with horseshoes that were your own brother’s seemed wrong. But after a week of hearing the girl shit talk his own family the final straw was definitely close to breaking now.

Yet at the same time, it was still cheating. Even Narcis got onto him about it. Yes he wanted revenge for putting his sister in the hospital but she was 19 and able to stand her own ground normally.

“This is a mistake,” He muttered, adjusting his gloves.

There was a faint line that showed where the horseshoes were. He had time to call for a glove check. That would make a fair fight. He turned around to his coach but before he could say anything his opponent started yapping.

“Ey! Rran! You ready to prove to your own country that your family is full of weak and pathetic people? Thought your sister would relay the message!”

Rran- I mean Andrew snapped his head back, giving his opponent a death glare as his coach tapped him on the shoulder.

“Ay, you need something lad?”

Andrew thought for a moment before the bell signaling the start sounded.

“Just have medics on stand by.”

He got up from his corner, hearing the announcer shout the name Aran Ryan, god he's going to need to change that soon, with a lot more accuracy then the bitch Infornt of him ever actually did.

God will it be a blessing for her to shut up and have a ruined face.

The referee stepped onto the mat in-between the two, not uncommon when you put two enemies together in a match, and pulled out a piece of paper.

“Ight let's get this over with. This is a time trial so you only have 3 minutes. Once those three minutes are up you both go back to your corners and I'll decide the winner. You both should know the tko and ko rules by now right?”

“Yeah yeah can we get punching now?”

“Andrew, I will personally give you 20 euros if you break her mouth.”

Punch blade looked quite offended at that as Andrew just rolled his eyes.

“Oh relax about him.”

He glared at punch blade.

“I'm going to do much much worse.”

As the bell rung again Andrew’s coach went over to the doors, specifically where Roree and Aran were.

“Shouldn't yo-”

“I'm getting the medics like he asked. Wanna come?”

“No thanks. I got the short straw with this one.”

Aran slightly nudged Roree for that statement, solely because it wasn't a wise discussion even for him to smack someone who has a metal weight on her wrist. That alone was probably 5 pounds. Let alone the fact she was kinda an official arms wrestler. He proceeded to watch the fight, only slightly noticing something was off.

“Hey Roree?”

“Hm?”

“I think he broke her back.”

“Oh very fu- wait what.”

As if on cue as Roree turned around she saw Andrew push the screaming girl off of him, and landed a kick right in the stomach. Not a signature move in the ring. But definitely a signature move outside of it. And it always landed someone in the hospital and him in the station.

“Oh shit- uh Aran im going to run somewhere you just um stay.”

Aran just gave a thumbs up as Roree ran into the hall.

Meanwhile the referee started the count as soon as punch blade hit the floor, but stopped when he saw Andrew pull another punch directly in her face.

“Hey. Andrew, that's enough! Back to your corner!”

But Andrew didn't care, he continued the punches, landing them in spots that would definitely leave more than a bruise.

The only time he stopped was when a blade sliced over his glove, cutting it open, Resulting in the horseshoe falling out and a gasp from the crowd, even Aran looked shocked at the scene.

The shock eventually wore off as punch blade took her knife out of her glove and attempted to stab Andrew with it, only for him to grab her arm and smash the horseshoe right onto it.

The look in his eyes was almost chilling as he lifted the thing up, like he was contemplating something, before he smashed the horseshoe right into her mouth. Breaking past the mouth guard and cracking a few teeth, the second time did a few in.

He then grabbed her hair and smashed the side of her head, right where her ear was. He was about to go for her neck next when something grabbed the horseshoe and yanked it out of his hand.

“Jesus fuck Andrew enough! She's down! You won!”

Roree tossed the horseshoe aside and grabbed Andrew's arm and pulled him away while a medic looked at punch blade. The ring was now stained with blood.

“Dude the hell did you do to her?”

The referee got onto the ring while looking at punch blade, causing Andrew to look too.

Frankly what was listed wasn't the only thing he apparently did, there was a gash on her head and she was spitting pieces of teeth and mouth guard out, but she was clenching the side of her torso, specifically where the ribs were. And it was clear her arm was broken, or at least fractured. Her leg was sprained. Frankly Andrew didn't actually recall what he did or didn't do, but the horrified look on the peoples faces he could see spelled it all.

He almost killed her.

“Andrew?”

No response, what was there to say anyways? ‘oh i'm sorry for nearly killing you’?

Like he could have gotten the words out, his entire body was shaking, almost near hyperventilating.

Without another word he pulled his arm away from Roree, got up and rushed off the ring. Not even stopping as his sister yelled for him, then he was just gone.

It was only an hour after statements were given and the fun of it. In full frank nobody in any of the WVBA's would say anything bad about Andrew, hell shark bite from Australia even said he should have killed Lucy, yet it was completely useless as the officials found a letter of resignation and Andrew’s locker cleaned out shortly after they went to find him. Causing quite the worry in some of the Ireland officials and his own siblings.

“I'm sure he's fine. This was just. Something out of the ordinary he’ll come back!”

“No. No Aran he isn't.”

Roree sighed as she stopped herself from putting her head on the steering wheel of the car. Aran was holding his horseshoes Andrew stole, a case wasn't opened so it wasn't used as evidence, Aran wished it was though. It was probably more blood then horseshoe now, he had it wrapped in a couple of paper towels but they didn't do a good job of absorbing the blood. And frankly he was still scared of the whole thing, funny considering the fact he wasn't scared of anything else.

“Aran. If he's home I don't want you talking to him. Not yet anyways.”

Aran was about to protest as Roree held up her hand.

“You. You don't know this side of him. Frankly I rather you don't even come inside ‘til I tell you. Just, leave us alone to talk. Alright?”

There was more worry in her voice now. As if she was contemplating what she would find when she got home.

“Actually. If he is home -call Narcis, he had a fight with an Irish rookie today he should still be here, unless he actually likes making 2 to 6 hour trips.”

They stopped at their house, seeing Andrew’s bike just tossed onto the ground.

“Well at least he made it home in one piec- wait when did bring his bike?!”

“I think he just kept it there just in case.”

“Aran do me a favor and don't do that when you and Ardin move to new york. They're worse than here.”

Roree got out of the car and tossed her phone over to Aran.

“Narcis’s name is under ‘golden bastard’- don't tell Andrew- I'm going to go talk to him.”

Aran gave a thumbs up again as Roree went inside, her first notice was the mirror being foggy, the second was hot water being run.

“Andrew, you better not have been trying to wash your hands clean of blood like Lady Macbeth with hot water again!”

The water was shut off as the sound of a towel being quickly wrapped around hands was heard. How? Because he kept hitting the sink with his hand as Roree noticed him cleaning the sink from water drops.

“Andrew.”

“what?”

“The hell are you doing?”

“...dishes.”

“What dishes? I did them this morning before we left!”

Andrew stayed silent as Roree walked over, steam was still leaving the stink as she grabbed the towel and pulled it off, seeing his typically slightly tan but still pale skin being sunburnt red. She just sighed as if this wasn't the first time.

“I'm not going to bug you on that. Why did you quit?”

“Why? Ain’t it obvious?”

Roree just shook her head at that.

“Andy, nobody in that association is going to turn you in. Hell they'll even drop the to-”

“I don't care. I still broke my own morals and almost killed someone in the ring!”

“That's.. well that's a bit of an over statement aint it?”

“Oh when the hell is it?!”

Andrew slammed his hand on the sink, before pulling it back.

“It doesn't matter, Roree. I'm not going back to a place that allows filthy cheaters to compete.”

“Aran’s a filthy cheater. I’m a filthy cheater. Are you saying-”

“You two are different. And again it doesn't and will not matter! Frankly I was already planning on quitting. This was just a send off.”

Roree was taken aback a bit from that.

“But you love boxing! It was your dream! What changed?”

“There's a difference between a dream and a reality, Roree. My dream was boxing. The reality is that no matter what somebody is going to cheat someone out of something.”

Andrew put a hand on his head. “I'm getting a headache. I'm going to bed.”

Before Roree could say anything he tossed the towel onto her head and walked off to his room. The door slammed shut as he entered it. Roree just looked onwards. Pondering if he was being serious or not. Then the front door slammed open.

“DUDE YOU BROKE THE FECKIN' HANDLE!”

well on the high note. At Least they could now replace that ugly door handle Narcis just ripped off. Roree didn't say anything, just pointed to Andrew’s room as Narcis Sprinted to his room. She proceeded to glare at Aran.

“What?”

“I told you to just call him.”

“I did!”

“You said something, what was it?”

“Just a recap of everything.”

“I'm never trusting you with calling someone ever again.”

[actorsmask]

🎭 Song Challenge 🎭

Share at least 5 songs that you associate with or remind you of your muse!

Love Like You - Rebecca Sugar

I always thought I might be bad

Now I’m sure that it’s true

‘Cause I think you’re so good

And I’m nothing like you

Look at you go

I just adore you

I wish that I knew

What makes you think I’m so special

Moral of the Story - Ashe

Talking with my mother

She said, “Where’d you find this guy?”

Said, “Some peoeple fall in love with the wrong people sometimes.”

Some mistakes get made, that’s alright, that’s okay

You can think that you’re in love, when you’re really just in pain

Some mistakes get made, that’s alright, that’s okay

In the end it’s better for me, that’s the moral of the story babe

Poison - Blake Roman

I got so good at being untrue

I got so good at telling you what you wanna hear

I disassociate, disappear

Yeah, yeah, yeah,

So far beyond difficult to resist another gulp

Yeah, I know it’s poison, you’re feedin’ me poison

I’m chokin’ from the taste and I can’t help but swallow up your poison

I made my choice, and every night, I’m wasted like there’s no tomorrow

Se mettre sur son trente-et un ! - HOYO-MiX

Le monde n’est qu’une scène (The world is just a stage)

Il vaut mieux rire que pleurer (It’s better to laugh than to cry)

Car le rore est le propre de l’homme (Because laughter is unique to man)

Riez de tout cela, ne vous inquiétez pas (Laugh it all, don’t worry)

Portions d’aujoird’hui (Let’s enjoy today)

Happy Face - Jagwar Twin

Hey, put on a happy face

Then everything’s okay

Put on a happy face

Say you’re good, say you’re fine

Tell ‘em everything’s alright

Hollywood on your timeline

Telling you what to wear and what to like and how to be

All Too Well (10 Minute Version) - Taylor Swift

Well, maybe we got lost in translation

Maybe I asked for too much

But maybe this thing was a masterpiece ‘til you tore it all up

Running scared, I was tjere

I remember it all too well

And you call me up again just to break me like a promise

So casually cruel in the name of being honest

I’m a crumpled up piece of paper lying here

‘Cause I remember it all, all, all

They say, “All’s well that ends well” but I’m in a new hell everytime

You double-cross my mind

-

-

-

Time won’t fly, it’s like I’m paralyzed by it

I’d like to be my old self again

But I’m still trying to find it

After plaid shirt days and nights when you made me your own

Now you mail back my things, and I walk home alone

Tagged by: @masked-genie

Tagging: @4a-t5u, @arc1t3ct, @spaceoddityhsr! You may join even if you aren’t tagged :)))

[nanjokei]

the nipple torture jav piracy incident and its consequences. i feel like i don't have a lot of people on here who are really aware of most happenings in the japanese sphere and that incident despite how it probably contributed to what happened at the end of the year in a small way is still so funny to me. i might talk about it in detail one day because it is so ridiculous. punished rore

anyone who was around me the 3 months of his self suspension knows how funny that period of my life was

[neotrinitythinker]

men will tell you they're making something small and then create an entire cinematic universe revolving around a time traveling lesbian cob of corn trying to save her french fry wife from being thrown into a. volcano.

[hotgirlscoups]

BUT WE WERE SOMETHING DON’T YOU THINK SO

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Eight, “Almost There”

Clickable Links: 

- Masterlist feat. all chapters and Character Surveys

- Inspo tag

- Playlist

- *NEW* Hecky Blurb from The Sex Bucketlist Fic Challenge (currently an extra chapter)

- Becky Character Survey #2 

- Harry Character Survey 

Word Count: 7.4k words

Warnings: None

                                  SNEAKKKKKKKK PEEEEEK

“At moments throughout the day, I could’ve cared less that I was being paid for all of this, because being in Harry’s presence for almost every second was rewarding enough. I got to remember the dark little freckles smattered across his face, the tan ones peppering his nose you can see if you’re close enough, and how utterly happy I feel being around him. He quickly felt like the sun and I was the orbiting planet, constantly around him and hanging onto his every word.”

Music Inspo: Sweet Tooth by Cavetown (click to listen)

P.S. - Talk about the most perfect gif up top of happy lawyer Harry c:

                         “I have a million things to talk to you about. A million things we have to talk about. All I want in this world is you. I want to see you and talk. I want the two of us to begin everything from the beginning.” - Haruki Murakami

“So, Hare, ya think she’ll like it?”

“I bloody hope so afta all tha cleanin’ and buyin’ new stuff,” I respond with a tired sigh, crossing my arms over my chest, sure there’s still dust clinging to me in places.

“We didn’t do any cleaning, you goon, the cleaning company we employ did,” Myles chuckles, bringing warmth to my cheeks. “I think we did good, though- I reckon you did good, seeing as you did most of the work, mate.”

“Thanks,” I tell him, taking a good look at the office that’s sat unused since the remodel.

“When’s her orientation with you, did you say?”

“This Friday,” I answer him, my hand wandering to my mouth where I bite at my fingernail, inspecting the clean office. Even after all of the work that’s been put into it ever since she was hired, I still doubt myself if Becks will like it. Will she like the desk that I chose, or the Merlot colored sofa against the wall, or the chair that I splurged on? She’s going to be the one spending time in here, not me, and I really want her to like it.

“Have you asked her out on that date yet?” Myles questions, stepping forward to adjust the black modern desk lamp, even though I’m sure she’ll move things around once she steps foot in here. I want her to change it to how she likes, just how she likes. Wait, what did he say?

“My’, what tha fook are ya goin’ on ‘bout?” I chuckle, holding out my hand in question to help me talk.

“What, mate? You’re wasting precious time here, you’ll be thirty in a few weeks. I thought we’d have kids and they’d be best mates by now.”

“Oh, shuddup, thirty isn’t that old, and no, I haven’t asked her out yet.”

“And why’s that? You said you ran into her at the supermarket last weekend, and you met her for dinner and drinks the Friday before. It sounds like you had plenty of opportunities, and once again, you didn’t take them,” he almost groans, opening a box of black pens that he pours into a tall black mug with ‘Styles & Lawson’ written on both the mug and the pens. It was his touch, not mine. I know Becks will hate it, she’ll find it gaudy. “Y’know I don’t care if you lot date, just keep it behind closed doors, is all I ask. Keep it professional.”

“‘s too soon, My. I know ‘s already a lot fer her t’ be startin’ a new job, ‘specially her first official lawyer job. I want her t’ get settled in first befo’ I do anythin’, and overwhelm her mo’. And I know, I wanna do all o’ it right.”

“That’s fair, Hare, but you better hurry up. I was telling Rory about her starting, and when he asked to see a photo, he couldn’t stop talking about how pretty she is,” he comments, breaking the box apart before tossing it in the empty bin, giggling.

“My’, don’t bloody encourage him. Rore’s a prick, tho’, even he knows it. She’d neva go fer him, anyways.”

“Are you gonna tell him how you feel about her then, y’know, so he doesn’t try anything?” Myles continues, walking behind Becks’ ‘Autumn Cherry Mahogany’ desk, pushing in the chair as he does a once over.

“I reckon I should, if tha idiot keeps quiet ‘bout it, which’d be a bloody wonder in itself. Watch him try t’ gimme relationship advice, as if he’s had a girlfriend lately fer longa than two weeks.”

Myles chuckles at that, tapping a pen against the desk barren besides the lamp, pens, a desk calendar, and the phone. I laugh along with him, turning around to glance at the wooden shelves that look rather pathetic with the few law books claiming them, but that’s the last thing on my to do list. I reckon she’ll want to add some of her own, anyways.

“You’re really going to leave the walls empty besides that bloody shelf and clock? It looks sad in here.”

“I told ya ‘m gonna let her pick out some prints, and tha firm will pay fer ‘em. There’s no use in buyin’ sumthin’ that she’ll end up not likin’, My. Oh, and tha rug ‘s s’posed t’ come in t’morrow, as is tha new iMac that one o’ Asher’s blokes will set up,” I repeat with a roll of my eyes, forgetting the books and finding him straightening the violet-colored clock on the wall.

“The firm is paying for it, is that right? Jeepers, Harry, she’s making you all soft again. I can’t complain though, because it means you’re far nicer to me for a change.”

“Shuddup,” I giggle, plucking a new pen from her desk to launch at him. “Ya I dunno, she has tho’ and I don’t really mind it. I guess ‘m used t’ it, but it was hard in tha beginnin’.”

“It’s a good thing, really, I mean it. Oh, by the way, did you let her know she needs to frame her degree to hang up in here? Preferably behind her desk,” he questions, turning to point to the eggshell-colored walls that were painted months ago, the exact shade of all of our offices.

“Thanks fer tha reminda. ‘ll hafta text her ‘bout it, I forgot.”

“Yeah, you can thank me for a good excuse to text her,” he grins, his hands falling from the clock until his attention is captured by something else. “Also, why’d you buy a bloody plant? Does she even like them, or know how to take care of them?”

“I dunno, she mentioned once she likes succulents, and there’s a huge ass window right there t’ give it sun, so ya jus’ need t’ water it,” I snicker, pointing to the floor to ceiling window taking up the wall across from her door, like all of the offices. “‘s some kinda succulent, I can’t rememba. I figured she’d like it, but thanks fer yer bloody vote o’ confidence, Mr. Lawson.”

“You’ll get my ‘bloody vote of confidence’ when you fucking finally ask her out, Hare. ‘s been two years, mate,” he insists, flicking the light off as I step out into the hallway.

“I know, My, ya think I don’t bloody know that?”

“I don’t know, Harry, but y’know how I feel about second chances. They don’t come around again, and you got one, so use it wisely and quickly,” he tells me, wagging a finger at me as he closes the door before walking off.

“I know, but I don’t wanna screw it up,” I whisper in defeat to none other than myself, messing with the silver rose ring on my left hand, just as my eyes pan over to the frosted glass door. At the sight of her full name etched into the door, my heart does a jump, from nerves and excitement. “See ya soon, Becks,” I finish softly, patting her name carved into the glass, a bubbly warmth filling my insides with anticipation.

I dunno how much longer I can wait for her.

+

“Alrighty, then let’s start with’a tour. Follow me right this way, Ms. Holte,” Harry says, leading me out of his office and can I say, giving me a perfect view of his gorgeous bum. Now, that’s one thing that hasn’t changed a bit, I decide silently as I take a quick glance around his office.

“Please stop with the Ms. Holte thing, it’s weird,” I giggle, watching him close his door behind him, and he winks at me.

“What, how come? Yer a lawyer now, Becks, ya gotta be all formal.”

“See, that name sounds much better, doesn’t it?” I tease him, and he shakes his head with a grin.

“I admit it does, but y’know yer gonna hafta decide what ya want people t’ call you. Rebecca, Becky, Ms. Holte, etcetera. But fer formal proceedings, like during cases you’ll be Ms. Holte, so ya betta get used t’ it.”

“Yeah, Ms. Holte isn’t happening if I can help it, it makes me feel old. I’m not a bloody teacher or something,” I remark and he nods his head, his fingers getting lost in his curls as he stops.

“Very true. Well t’ begin our tour, yer familiar with this hallway as it’s tha main one. My office is behind us at tha very end, Myles is down and on tha right as y’know, then Rose’s ‘s on tha left,” he explains by pointing a long finger in different directions, the pink nail polish from last weekend almost entirely gone. I guess Harper needs to give him a touch up, or I could. God, I wish. “Rory’s office ‘s down that way t’ tha right o’ mine, as ‘s Jennings as y’know. Mick’s ‘s down tha way afta his, then Gwen’s, Tate’s, Holly’s, Connor’s- Y’know what, let’s jus’ go and say hi t’ ‘em, I reckon that’ll be easier fer you t’ make sense o’ it all. I was plannin’ t’ introduce ya t’ e’rybody anyways, so we’ll see who’s here t’day and not stuck inn’a case.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” I hum, unsure of how good of a job I’m doing masking my anxiousness, it’s hard to tell.

Evidently, I’m not doing that great of a job, because when Harry looks to his left at me, it’s fair game. “‘s okay, Becks, don’t worry. They’ll all love you too,” he smiles, patting my arm, calming me down and exciting me at the same time with his words and touch.

“God, I’m an open book, aren’t I?”

“Eh, I dunno really. I guess ‘m jus’ good at readin’ ya by now,” he responds with a short wink before stopping in front of another frosted glass door. After a short knock, the door opens and like every other time, I’m amazed by her fiery red hair. “Hey, Rose, ‘m not interruptin’, am I?”

“No, Harry, you’re not,” Rose answers, hanging onto her door, and I watch her eyes pan over to me. “Hi, Becky! I haven’t seen you in ages. How are you, love?”

“I’m good, thanks. How have you been, Rose?”

“Eh, I’ve been better, it’s not easy working for this guy. You should get out while you still can,” she answers teasingly, nodding her head over to Harry.

“Hey, don’t say that! ‘m givin’ her tha tour right now, ya don’t wanna scare her away already, Rose!” he scoffs jokingly, and quickly we’ve left him behind with our laughing that he doesn’t partake in.

“Quiet down, Harry, she’s come back for seconds so she must know how to deal with you by now,” she quips, looking over to me with a blushing smile. Oh, I’m liking it better and better the longer I’m here.

“God, I hope so,” I joke, spending a nervous laugh at the end of my words and so does everybody else, although in a self-deprecating way.

“I’m glad you’re back though, Becky. It’s so great to have you a part of the lawyer team now.”

“Thank you, Rose. I’m really happy to be a part of it too,” I answer shyly, and when I look over to Harry he’s wearing that sunshine smile again that I’d gladly look into, even if it blinded me.

“Thanks fer yer time, Rose, we’ll be movin’ along t’ meet e’rybody else now. There’ll be a formal meetin’ her first day t’ properly introduce e’rybody tho’,” Harry says, patting her on the shoulder before we move on.

We make our way down the hallway, and then soon reunite with Jennings, which wasn’t the best reunion per say after how he treated me at times.

“Don’t worry, I told him he has t’ be on his best behavior ‘round you,” Harry comments with a warm smile, doing a good job at smoothing over any bumps I feel in the road, like he so often does.

A few of the lawyers were gone for the day, including Gwen and Mickey who I’ve yet to hear anything about or meet. I got to meet Holly, Connor, Tate, and Brien who were all very kind. It was nerve wracking, but they were easy to talk to, and it was neat to see their difference in ages, their characters, and their offices. As for those we missed, Harry said I’d meet them the next time when I have my first official day.

“And this ‘s Rory, which requires a bit o’ prep fer meetin’ him, he can be a lot t’ handle sumtimes,” Harry prefaces, stopping in front of the ajar door, but his face falls when he peeks in, saying it’s empty. “‘m not bloody surprised, I can neva find tha idiot when I need him.”

“Looking for me, Harold?” a voice calls, pulling our attention down the hall and towards the lobby. I can almost see where my desk used to be from here, almost.

“Oh, so he can call you Harold, but I can’t?”

“No, neitha can he, he jus’ thinks he’s funny. He’s prolly tryna show off fer you,” he comments, cocking his head to the side as he looks at this Rory fellow questioningly. “Y’know I don’t like bein’ called that, Rore.”

“And what do I care?” Rory replies, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as he approaches us, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. “Ooooo, who is this lovely lass?”

“Rory, this ‘s Ms.- I mean, Becky Holte, ‘ve told you ‘bout our new associate,” Harry explains, pointing his elbow to me as his hands sit in his pockets. Slowly with each new introduction, I’ve noticed Harry resume his professionalism, but it feels stronger whenever he says my name. It’s a little hard to get used to after all of the moments we’ve shared over the last two years, but I know that I’ll have to get used to working with him again, and all that it entails.

“Ah, so this is Becky,” Rory smiles, stepping forward to put out his hand as his eyes flit to Harry. With a confused look on my face, I take it and he shakes my hand with his other covering mine. My eyes race to Harry next with a question, but his are stuck to Rory’s with an annoyed expression. “I’ve heard loads about you, love. Welcome to the firm, we’re all happy to have you here working with us. I know Harry is especially.”

“Um, thank you, Rory. I’m excited to be here.”

He nods before stuffing his hands in the pockets of his gray slacks and sauntering off, loud music soon coming from his office.

“He’s uh, different,” I comment slowly, looking over my shoulder as we walk away.

“Ya, he’s a prat ‘s what he ‘s,” Harry comments quickly, rubbing a knuckle along his hairy chin.

“So, you told your colleagues that you’re happy I’m back?”

“Perhaps,” he shrugs, saying it like he’s not sure of his answer either, but I take it and I run with it. “Perhaps very much so,” he finishes just as his steps cease in front of another closed door. I don’t get the chance to read the name on it, because quickly he’s opening it, and it’s already hard to tear my eyes away from him after he said that. Who do you think you are just saying that kind of stuff and not expecting me to freak out? It gets even worse when he finally meets my eyes with the cheekiest grin sitting there, waiting for me.

“Wow, this is a really nice office. It even smells good, like palo santo or something,” I comment, taking a step into the immaculate looking space. The room is lit up when Harry flips the light switch, bathing the shining desk in light, as well as the wine-colored sofa against the wall to my right. “Look at that view! Dang, whoever’s office this is sure is lucky. They even have a cute little plant on their desk, awe. Whose office is this, anyways? I don’t want to intrude, or anything,” I say, fawning over the cozy room and even how there’s two little tasseled pillows sitting on the sofa. When I bring my eyes back to Harry, he’s leaning against the door frame, arms and legs crossed amongst his tall body. In his eyes sits a tale that I can see he’s itching to tell, a sparkle in his eye.

“Consider yerself lucky, Becks, this ‘s yer new office,” he grins, his cheeks disappearing when the smile almost reaches his ears.

“Shut up!” I exclaim, my hands flying to my mouth as I look at the room in a new light, per say. “I get my own office? I didn’t even think I’d need one, since I’ll always be in yours. Harry, you shouldn’t have!” I sigh happily, hands falling as my eyes start to water.

“‘Course you’ll have yer own office, Becks. I mean ya, you’ll be with me in mine loads, but sumtimes we’re bound t’ get sick o’ each otha,” he says, lifting his crossed arms in a shrug as if they hold words as well. My head falls to the side as I look at him, telling him silently he’s stupid for saying that, and he giggles because he’s just too good at reading me. It’s going to be a long time before I get sick of him again. A very long time. “It’ll happen, I promise ya that. But sumtimes ‘ll be in partner meetings or sumthin’, and ya can do yer research and prep fer tha cases in here. Also, I wanted ya t’ have yer own space since ‘s no fun bein’ stuck in me office starin’ at tha same four walls all day long. And I know ya didn’t really have yer own space befo’ at yer old desk, and ya should’ve,” he completes eloquently, always knowing what to say and how to say it. I hope he can teach me how to do that, because I’m really going to need it. For more than one occasion, and both inside and outside of this firm.

I want to hug him so badly I can’t stand it, because the gratitude and happiness bubbling to the surface yell at me to, and he just looks so cute standing over there so proud of himself. The whole rule about being professional that stuck to me again the second I got off the lift comes back to me, and holds me back from surprising him with a bear hug. Boy, is it hard, and it gets even harder when I don’t see him trying to give me one, either.

“You’re so sweet, you know that?” I almost blurt out, wishing for that eloquent speech trait once again.

“Thanks, bug, I try. ‘m really glad ya like it, really. I have a few sites ya can look at when ya have tha time t’ pick out some prints fer yer walls. Oh, and yer welcome t’ bring in any books ya’d like t’ place on yer shelf and anythin’ else fer that matta, ‘s all yers. All of it,” and with the sunshine smile leaking through in those words, the first tear falls onto my cheek and I couldn’t even care. “Hey, don’t cry, bug. C’mere, come gimme a hug.”

“But I have to be professional, and employees don’t hug their boss.”

“Hush, li’l one. ‘m not yer boss anymo’, ‘m yer colleague,” he contends shrugging, removing an arm from where it’s crossed over his chest to wave me over to him.

“A mentee shouldn’t hug their mentor,” I continue, the next tear falling as indecisiveness buzzes inside of me.

“Rebecca Ann Holte,” Harry insists firmly, and this one triumphs all others. It hurts more than any other, brings back the most memories, and makes the happy tears come even faster. And shit, does it get me going. “Come ova here and hug me, now,” he giggles with a finger pointing to the floor, and I swear it’s the best song I’ve ever heard in this whole entire world, next to the very words he just spoke.

But I can’t get my feet to wake up and in a blink he’s moving over to me with that sunshine smeared all over his face. I feel it cover my body when his long arms come around me, pulling my face against his chest.

“I don’t like my full name,” I confess into his button down, hoping I’m not smearing my blubbering makeup all over it.

“I do, ‘s pretty . . but I like ‘Becks’ betta. Yer my Becks,” he hums from above me, running miles up and down my back with his large hands. His hugs that can fix everything and anything.

“I’m sorry I always cry.”

“‘s okay, bug, ya don’t gotta apologize. I know it means yer really happy,” he muses, eliciting a quick nod from me that sings a happy giggle from above. “‘m so happy ya like it, I worked so hard onnit coz I wanted ya t’ love it.”

“You did all of this?!”

“Well, with a li’l help from me friends, ‘course,” he titters, the sound heard under my ears and overhead. His name leaves my lips in an amazed sigh and he only laughs harder. “Think that means ya like it, hmm, Becks?”

“Yes, I love it, Harry. All of this,” I answer, finding handfuls of his silky blazer in my hands, and his peppery vanilla scent. Too afraid of ruining his shirt, I back up and let go of him, wiping under my eyes embarrassingly.

“Alright?” he hums softly, brushing the hair away from my face and behind my ear. Even just his finger brushing my ear gets me going. Good God, Harry. “Here, lemme look.”

I oblige after doing most of the work and meeting his eyes that I swear I could melt looking into, and I should know because I have so many times. The happiness pours into me at the thought of getting to do it day after day, for as long as I like. Kind of.

“Doesn’t look too bad. Ya still look like me pretty Becks, but don’t wantcha cryin’, haven’t even been here an hour, love.”

“Oh, you knew I was going to cry when I saw the office,” I laugh and his quickly falls behind, tickling my ears.

“Ya, I admit I knew,” he titters and I playfully push at his chest, suddenly kicking myself for ending that hug so soon, unsure of the next time I’ll get one. “Well, shall we keep goin’ with this tour, or ya need anotha minute, bug?”

“I’m okay,” I answer and he nods.

“If ya say so, Boops,” he chirps, brushing the tip of his finger against my nose cheekily. “C’mon, ya have plenty o’ time t’ check this place out. I wanna show ya tha new law library, ‘s a real treat.” I follow his lead, even with tear streaks down my cheeks, because I know that if I’m by his side I’ll always be okay.

Well, so much for that whole ‘being a professional thing’, huh, Mr. Styles? He sure threw that out the door just now, as well as a few more doubts I had about the way he feels about me. Goodness gracious, I’m in real trouble.

I can’t wait.

At moments throughout the day, I could’ve cared less that I was being paid for all of this, because being in Harry’s presence for almost every second was rewarding enough. I got to remember the dark little freckles smattered across his face, the tan ones peppering his nose you can see if you’re close enough, and how utterly happy I feel being around him. He quickly felt like the sun and I was the orbiting planet, constantly around him and hanging onto his every word. Luckily, I was able to do a lot of staring, since I’m familiar with the firm and could tune out at times. He still gave me the grand tour which was a little different at times due to the remodel. I realized there was a post room that I had totally forgotten about, although I’m not sure how.

Harry made it fun, like he always does, but I noticed that he was ‘Boss Harry’ today. At times, he kept the personal talk to a minimum when there was stuff to get done, especially after the scene that unfolded in my office. God, I can’t believe any of what happened in there, and I try not to think about it, because I know I won’t be able to handle it. I called him ‘Mr. Styles’ on a few occasions and I think he liked the sound of it too. Fortunately, for my sake, he only remembered my last name aloud a few more times, because I think we’re both uncomfortable with anything besides ‘Becks.’ But I wouldn’t want it any other way, and I quickly realized that, when that’s how he introduced me to his- well my new colleagues before correcting himself. He really is just the cutest.  

“I didn’t dump too much on ya t’day, did I?” Harry asks with a sunny smile, falling down onto the sofa across from me.

“It’s debatable,” I shrug softly with an added laugh, my hand diving into the cloth bag sat between us.

“Hey, I did me best,” he pouts, pulling up his pastel slacks to get comfy, crossing his legs in front of me. Goodness, I really wish he wouldn’t, because it is the best and worst view I’ve ever seen. He looks too damn fine in those pants that hug him in all of the right places, fuck. Fuck me.

I’m sure you want him to, Becky.

Go away, demon, I’ve got this handled.

Pfffft, yeah right.

“I hope ya didn’t cheat while I was in tha loo,” he remarks, pulling his lips inwards to make a popping sound with his mouth, just like that part in Shrek 2 where Donkey does it in the carriage.

“I would not! I can’t believe you don’t trust me.”

“Oh, I trust ya, Becks, jus’ not when it comes t’ Scrabble,” he quips, dropping several tiles onto the thick cardstock board. I hold back a comeback comment as I watch him build off my word, forming one of his one.

H O T D O G

A devilish laugh leaves his cherry lips as I pluck my pre-chosen tiles from my rack. Meanwhile, he adds up his new points aloud and tallies them up.

“What kinda prints are ya gonna buy fer yer office, y’think?” he mumbles, the pen scratching against the yellow legal pad in his lap, doing one good thing, which is covering it from my prying gaze.

“I’m not sure yet, do you have any good suggestions?” I reply, turning over a D that had gotten flipped over, lining up my tiles from his G.

G O O D B Y E

“Nice long one, bug, and I dunno. ‘ve accumulated mine ova tha years, and they’re mostly prints o’ artists I love.”

“Yeah, I see that,” I respond, lifting my eyes to his spacious office that still surprises me with how different it does and doesn’t look from before.

As he said, more framed prints cover his walls. Before, he only had a Rolling Stones black and white picture above the sofa we sit on. Now, he has one of The Beatles from their Sgt Pepper launch party, a print of Mick Fleetwood and Stevie Nicks on the cover of Rumors, a smiling portrait of Cat Stevens playing guitar, and a moody photo of Simon and Garfunkel. The shelf above us is also brimming with new books, including biographies of previously mentioned musicians, and even Uncle-ing for Dummies.

“I like them. Maybe I’ll frame some favorite sheet music of mine, I have no idea,” I joke with uncertainty, finding his smiling eyes across from me, lifting from the pad of paper.

“There’s no rush, Becks, ya got loads o’ time t’ decorate. I jus’ wantcha t’ be at home in yer new office. I mean, ‘m still decoratin’ and ‘s been ova five years,” he comments, setting the pad to the side. “Don’t forget t’ pull new tiles, love.”

“Oh yeah, thanks for the reminder. It’s just weird, but in a good way, because I’ve never had my own office,” I say, reaching my hand into the bag and feeling the cool tiles once again.

“‘Course it’d be weird, ‘s sumthin’ new, but you’ll get used t’ it. ‘m sure you’ll figure out how t’ make it yer own, ya deserve it,” he exhales, his hands folded together against his mouth as he stares at the board intently.

“Thank you, you’re right . . The tiles aren’t going to arrange themselves if you stare that hard. You do know that, right?”

“Yes, Ms. Holte, ‘m well aware, thank you. Bloody hell, already feelin’ like we’re a hotshot coz we’re a lawyer now, are we?” he tuts teasingly, dropping his hands to his rack as he flits his eyes to me with a toothy grin.

“I am not, and watch the name, or no brownies for you!”

“Fine,” he sighs, his bottom lip catching between his teeth as he contemplates his move, but his focus is lost when his phone dings.

I try not to intrude, but the look on his face feeds my curiosity, and when his expression does a three-sixty and then another, I can’t look away. He doesn’t share anything though, just types back a brief reply to whoever and returns his attention to the game board. I try to do the same, planning my next attack on the board, but it’s futile because the worry I feel for him creeps up again like it so often does.

“Got any big plans fer t’night?” he muses aloud, laying down the ceramic tiles he’s chosen to form a short word off of my E.

B A K E

“Nah, just finally finishing New Girl after procrastinating it for the last few years. It’s always sad when a show ends.”

“Ah, guess yer busy then, nevamind,” Harry comments, adding up my points aloud before jotting them down. Wait, sir, you can’t just tease that at me. Well, whatever that is.

“Mr. Styles, what ever do you mean?” I ask calmly, placing heavy emphasis on his formal name, one that started as a joke but now I’m liking it more than I’d care to admit.

He doesn’t say anything right away, because of course. He just busies himself by picking out new letters and organizing his rack of tiles. I forgot about my new word long ago, because if I’m honest at least to myself, as soon as the short-hand had reached the three on the clock, I was already feeling melancholy. Now, no fewer than fifteen minutes of my orientation day remains, and the aching in my chest has only kept reminding me that I have to leave him soon. Talk about distracting.

“I mean t’ say, my sista had t’ cancel dinna coz Harper’s sick. So, how d’ya feel about dinna and drinks round two?” he suggests, finally meeting my eyes with his that have a little bit more sparkle to them.

“I’d love to, Harry. Maybe I could get that motorcycle ride already,” I comment, flitting my eyes over to the metallic gold helmet sitting on the edge of his organized desk.

“Maybe ya could, Becks,” he chirps after seeing where I’m looking. That sticky smile winds its way up his face, and finds the hole in the armor around my heart.

Am I in trouble with this man, or what? Fuck yes I am, and I can’t wait to dive right in.

The January day could be warmer, but it could also be colder, and yet with Harry by my side I don’t even notice. We both ditch our bags in my car for the time being, and suddenly I question a few things, mostly the intelligence of this idea seeing as what I’m wearing.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” I say, voicing my concerns aloud and I regret it immediately when Harry looks over to me quickly, the disappointment building on his face.

“Oh, that’s alright, we don’t hafta, love.”

“No, I’m talking about the motorcycle ride. I want to, but I’m wearing heels,” I shrug giggling and he nods softly, biting his lip as a thought buds in his eyes. “Oh wait, I think I have trainers in my car somewhere from that one yoga class I went to years ago.”

I hear his delightful laugh in the corners of my mind as I pop open the boot of my car, grateful to my past self for cleaning it once, whenever the last time that was.

“Y’know, ‘m I eva gonna be able t’ get ya t’ go t’ a yoga class with me one o’ these days?”

“Most likely not, if you want my honest answer,” I tell him and he chuckles, but I hear the sadness in it. It goes both ways, being able to read each other like an open book. We may not open ourselves to other people that way, but I think we had let the other person in long before we can remember.

“Here they are!” I exclaim once I locate the old black shoes, soon taking a seat on the edge of my silver car. Harry chirps a ‘good’ as he unbuckles the black leather box on the far back of the motorcycle seat, pulling out a matte black helmet.

I’m reminded of the bitter cold through the thin fabric of my black dress pants that I tuck into my long socks, although it looks dorky.

“Nice socks,” he jokes, lips sputtering with a laugh as I approach him.

“Shush,” I retort playfully, fastening the last few buttons of my long violet peacoat.

“Lookin’ good, Becks.”

“Oh, I know, very motorcycle chic,” I agree jokingly, taking the helmet from him that he holds out to me.

I slide it over my wavy dark curls, and lift my chin to the ceiling of the parking ramp to try and fasten the clasp. After several seconds of trying, I still can’t get it. I grow anxious when I hear the thrum of the engine come to life.

“Okay, I’ve ridden with Robbie on his bike so many times, and I can still never get these stupid helmets buckled. Can you help me, please?” I ask, my hands falling with a sigh to find him zipping up his bulky North Face, a gray hood from his sweatshirt falling over his back.

“‘Course, love,” he snickers, and I know he’s just enjoying watching me struggle. “Didn’t know ya were familiar with bikes, kinda disappointed ‘m not givin’ ya yer first ride.”

“If it’s any consolation it’s my first ride in years, and anything will be better than riding with Robbie. He’s scary on that thing.”

“Don’t worry, ‘m a good driver with anythin’ that’s not a shopping cart. Here, lemme help,” he says softly, his brown leather Chelsea boots echoing on the cement ground as he nears me. The closer he gets, the more my heart starts to race in anticipation for the next moment, and it feels like it stops altogether when I feel the guitar calloused pads of his fingers on my chin. “Lift yer head, please.”

“Yeah, I guess you were a good driver the few times I’ve ridden with you in your Rover.”

“‘Course I was, and ‘m jus’ gonna ignore how yer bein’ a sarcastic li’l ass ‘bout it,” he quips, pulling a laugh from my lips. No longer can I stare at the ceiling or the top of the helmet, and so I finally look to him through the partition although nervously. “Here, I think I almost got it,” he announces, a tune soon flowing from his lips that he hums. Again, it’s that same song that I can never figure out and it’s driving me nuts, but just hearing him hum it makes my heart slow down and relax. I don’t even know why, I guess because I’ve heard it so many times now, and he can relax me without hardly trying. When it comes to touching him, it seems to excite me in a nervous way right from the get go.

Somehow, I had forgotten how dark and long his eyelashes are as they flutter against his skin while he focuses on fastening the strap under my chin. His tongue dots across his lips at times until his bottom lip becomes trapped between his teeth, his thick brows falling in concentration. I’m not sure if I’ve ever seen anything cuter, but then the brisk wind catches his curls, again I’m uncertain.

“Don’t focus too hard now,” I tease him as the strap tightens under my chin. His features relax with a grin that doesn’t return a comment.

“There ya go, love,” he says, his warm vanilla touch falling away from me and he smiles as he pats the top of my helmet. “Oh here, almost forgot these.”

“What?” I answer, following him over to the bike as I lock my car, shoving my keys into the pocket of my coat. With his back to me, he plucks something from the leather bag of sorts and turns around, placing a pair of suede black gloves in my hands.

“Sorry, they’re prolly a bit large on ya, but ‘s betta than nuthin’,” he explains, and I only answer with a nod, watching him pull on a similar pair. “Ya still wanna do this?”

“By all means,” I agree aloud enthusiastically, stopping at the side of the gleaming black Harley. For some reason, it impresses me even more how the bike reminds me of how good he takes care of his things.

Now, I know I’m really falling.

“Hop on behind me then,” Harry instructs, swinging a long leg over the Harley to take a seat. My, was that a sight. I do as he says and settle onto the cushiony seat behind him, trying to ignore the bitter cold seeping in through my pants, but I’m sure he’s dealing with the same thing. “Ya warm enough, love?” he asks, raising his voice so I can hear him over the engine.

“Yeah, besides my bum, but what can you do?”

He chuckles with an agreeing nod, “Can ya find tha little footpegs with yer feet? Yer feet need t’ go on there and stay there, don’t wan’ ‘em touchin’ any otha parts o’ tha bike that’re hot.”

“Yeah, let me see,” I mumble, looking down and soon finding the little silver footrests. “Found them.”

“Good, now how does gnocchi soup ova on ninth sound?”

“Sounds great. I can’t remember the last time I was there,” I answer with a smile, wishing he could see it, and that I could see his. But I find that I can’t complain when I feel him grab my hands in each one of his, pulling them forward and around his middle to rest on his stomach.

“Neither can I, now that I think o’ it.”

“How come?” I wonder aloud. 

“Dunno, jus’ wasn’t tha same without ya there, Becks . . . Gotta hold onto me, ‘kay? ‘s notta very long ride, but that way we won’t get too cold goin’ jus’ ova there. Ya can fold her hands togetha too, if ya like,” Harry instructs, and I’m uncertain how many of his words I just heard after the very thing he just did. Shit, can’t I get a warning when you’re going to touch me? I need to prepare myself for something like that.

“O-Okay.”

“Alright?” he asks softly, projecting his voice over the loud rumble of the engine.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” I answer, my eyes dipping to the space in between us on the seat that I can’t get myself to close, no matter how much I’d like to.

“‘Kay, we’re gonna leave inna sec then. But if ya need anythin’ just, I dunno, pat my chest or sumthin’ since it’ll be loud. I won’t go very fast tho’. Hopefully I don’t have t’ do too much t’ be a betta driver than Robbie.”

“No, you definitely don’t,” I comment and we both laugh before I hear the click of the kickstand lifting, and then the weight of the bike resting on its two wheels.

“Ready, bug?” he asks, sitting forward a little to settle his hands on the handlebars.

“Yeah!” I call out to him, grabbing onto the front of his coat and feeling him under my touch, but the shyness keeps me from feeling more of him. It always manages to keep me from getting closer to him, all throughout the last few years.

He nods in front of me and within seconds he backs out of the parking spot slowly, then pulls down the aisle with a rumble of the engine. Luckily, we meet few cars in the parking ramp and soon we’re joining traffic. Harry was right, he is a good driver and already a better one than Robbie on his motorcycle. I can’t keep count of how many times over the years he’s made me feel safe so effortlessly, and once again he’s done it, and it only makes me fall harder.

Harry’s long legs come to sit on the tarmac when we approach a red light, but it quickly switches to green and he turns, the engine purring beneath us. The wind whips past us, but the helmet helps with some of it and so do his borrowed gloves that do indeed swallow my hands. They’re warm and cozy inside, likened to the feeling consuming my chest in this moment.

I’m not sure if I’d admit it to him, but this is the most fun I’ve had on a motorcycle ride before, although again it’s not that hard to beat the past rides I’ve taken part in. Somehow albeit unsurprisingly, this makes me find him all the more sexy as he drives us safely through town and expertly. The only thing that could make it better is getting to rest my head on his back, or in the crook of his neck. Despite knowing he wouldn’t mind, I refrain. Louder in my mind is the desire to scooch forward and have my chest against his back, but that too seems too intimate and it kills me to stay away.

“How ya doin’, bug?” Harry calls over the noisy traffic and engine when we come to another red light.

“Good, thanks!”

“Glad t’ hear. Are ya warm enough?” he continues, the bike stilling when he places his feet on the road.

“Yeah,” I answer, never sure if I’m speaking not loud enough or too loud.

“‘Kay. Ya don’t hafta be so far away y’know. I don’t bite, Becks,” Harry comments lightheartedly. “Scooch closer t’ me, you’ll be warmer that way.”

I nod, again feeling stupid because he wouldn’t know the difference if I nodded or shook my head. I oblige and close the distance between us like I’ve been itching to do, soon feeling the warmth from his body against my front.

“There ya go, ‘s that betta?” he says, patting my knee, once again scaring me in a good way. I respond with a short affirmation and a comment about how warm he is, and his head moves up and down. “Good, you’ll help me stay warm too, y’know. Ya’ve always been like a li’l heater.”

I’m not sure if he hears my laugh, but I’m okay if he doesn’t, because this is all more than enough. It’s just enough to be with him, and now behind him on his bike resting against his back with my arms around his middle, I don’t know how I could ever have anything to complain about. But then I remember all of the things I want with him, and how they’re just an arm’s reach away and not again for nine days. I smile sadly against the inside cushioning of the helmet, assuring myself that I’m getting closer to that with every day that passes, and that not even a month ago I never would’ve believed where I’d be today.

“Almost there, Becks,” Harry tells me over his shoulder as he returns his feet in front of mine while the traffic moves ahead.

“Yeah, we’re almost there, Harry, after all of this time. Almost,” I mumble aloud, the words dancing across his back and taken away by the wind.

Maybe he heard me, and if he did I don’t care, because we’re so close. I can’t help but wonder if he thinks it too.

[libidomechanica]

“and beneath the Peacock—raced the road was a child: now that”

and frozen seas?  Faintest thou return  and view Shepherds lost  and their babes have trade of stone,  Remember may. my love  is loves delight; and beneath  the Peacock—raced the  road was a child: now  that I might I miss. My love to  expect, but first hunger is  scared but it is not  in kind but in the 

dice by turns do cary. Octave clotted  in the roring  Organs loudly play with  secret ayde doest succour  and in worry vaguely life  in a royall aray: and  now they were gone; the  musk carnations bounding at your  sports at will not, while its  cool underwater for the  Touch, Wit spins both fresh bend of 

loues praise from some savage  womans hands worked busily  a day, and light, for  summer evening, and supply, till  the Partridge— or  fell a-talking with  the surprise and  ever strove to the  years, like a mer-creature  fetched wooers mony ane, and fall  when there ! And took 

my eyes          and one wasted  with bloody armament  doth hold. Has not, since last  oozings hours with  a purer lifes a fault  at last, that behind somehow,  each hand lusty head. It would  take the ouerthwart that they  are coming back her heart. “Give  me also presence o lovely forgive  you, you forgive?” 

Have been patriots, yet soft  the highway, and the  interstice, it spread, depart  not avail thorough you  can using giraffes if you  saw me one came and moving  to pray, with secret  darke, though this upland  dim, these may cool; but the touching  of the day. “And  through many a green laurel-bough.”

[hushedhands]

Hello I am here. Kinda late but lemme tall ya. You have created A. CHAPTER. my dude. First of all, my #adore heart. That part with Addy teasing Lenore with "you want to kiss the monarchy. You want to marry the monarchy." You were really just teasing us #adore fans 😭. But also lets talk about Xavier!!!!! What a babe! And Lenore getting the tip of the iceberg on the whole disaster that's happening with Swenday 🤯. Man can't wait for #adore to happen so Lenore can finally know whats up :) 1/?

This was very worth the wait, don’t worry. I feel like Lenore and Rosie need a name because Lenore is SO soft for Rosie. #Rore? #Lenosie? #Rosalenore? 😂And yes, before this story ends Lenore will learn all the good details about Swendway. In the mean time, she’s spent enough time with Addy over the past about 1.5 years to trust her 1000% with her life, her country, all of it. 

[bugsnaxalternatebadend]

(Can I see there reactions please)

(they knew since childhood)

[tessalovesozzy]

Scooby Doo meets Lupin the Third - Chapter 1

Notes: Its finally here! Again this has been written by @coldtoastieboi​ and myself (@tessalovesozzy)! There has been a lot going on right now for both of us in our lives right now and the holidays are upon us (hence why this took so long).  We hope that this chapter was worth the wait!

(Chapter continues under the cut)

Chapter 1

The Fall color was on full display in the passing trees as the Mystery Machine rolled down the highway, well on their way to the city of Southsummer, Georgia. It was their Fall break and all the members of Mystery Inc. were in need of some much-deserved relaxation time. As much as they loved solving mysteries, it was good to get a break from them every once in a while. Daphne heaved a sigh of relief. “ It feels so good that we finally get a vacation for once!”

“Yeah, going to Southsummer just to take in the sights was a great idea, Velma!” Fred complimented his friend, keeping his eyes on the road. “I figured that we could use it! All the theatres, parks, museums… a trip that doesn’t involve mysteries is just what we need!” Velma replied.

“Like, famous last words…” Shaggy said, thinking the rest of the gang couldn’t hear him. Fred raised an eyebrow as he glanced in the rearview mirror to catch a glimpse of the backseat where Shaggy and Scooby sat. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Shaggy began to rant. “Like, Scoob and I know how this goes. We try to go on vacation, things start out fine and dandy, but then a mystery falls into our lap and instead of relaxing, we spend the whole time getting chased by some freaky monster -”

“And running and retting rared rilly!” Scooby interjected, being as skeptic as Shaggy was about this ‘vacation’.

“Exactly!” Shaggy agreed.

“Don’t worry guys,” Velma reassured. “I did some research on this city for paranormal activity or anything else out of the ordinary and found nothing. I assure you that we’re just here to relax.” 

Shaggy and Scooby gave each other a glance and then back to Velma and the others. “Well, uh...”

“Tell you what guys, we still haven’t eaten breakfast yet. So how about you two pick which restaurant we eat at first on this trip?” Fred asked trying to appeal to Shaggy and Scooby and quell their fears. At the very mention of food and Fred’s offer, Shaggy and Scooby grinned and tied napkins around their necks like bibs. “Like, what are we waiting for?”

“Ret’s ro!” Scooby howled happily, with his human friends laughing as they entered the city limits.

-------

After spending some time at a few local landmarks, unwinding at a public park, and of course, eating at various restaurants and food stands, Mystery Inc. was already in a better and calmer mood and it was barely one o'clock in the afternoon by this time. After getting lunch from a hot dog stand, the teens and their great dane casually headed down the block back to their vehicle.

“See? What’d we tell you guys? No monsters, no mysteries, just some well-deserved downtime.” Daphne said reassuringly. 

“Yeah, this is really nice! Like, I don’t know what we were worried about, Scoob!” Shaggy said as he munched on his twelfth hot dog. 

Velma smiled, seeing her normally anxious friends being so content as she brought a brochure for the Metropolitan Art and History Museum out from a side pocket on her backpack.“I hope we can get to the museum today! There’s supposed to an exhibit that’s showcasing a red emerald!”

“A red emerald? Wait a minute, aren’t emeralds supposed to be green?” Fred asked. Velma proceeded to explain. “They are green! In actuality, This gem is more of a beryl than a true em-”  

“Velma- it’s a red emerald.” Daphne interrupted. She knew that if Velma continued, they’d be there for the rest of the afternoon in a geology lecture. “Like, what’s so special about it?” Shaggy asked. “Well Shaggy, this red emerald is said to be so hypnotic and so beautiful that few can resist being drawn to it!” Velma replied enthusiastically. “According to the map, the museum is just around the corner over there.” Velma pointed to the intersection at the end of the street that came to a right turn. “Well then, let’s go!” Fred said as he and the others piled into the Mystery Machine.

Suddenly, several police cars came rushing past the van, siren’s wailing with lights atop the cars flashing.

“Jeepers! What’s going on?” Daphne asked, looking out the windshield with concern as the police cars raced down the street.

“Whatever it is, they’re sure in a hurry!” Fred exclaimed. 

“Freddie, look where they’re headed!” Daphne pointed towards the slew of police cars as they raced down to the end of the street and made a right turn. 

“They’re headed towards the museum!” Fred revved up the Mystery Machine and followed in hot pursuit of the police, jolting everyone into their seats. Shaggy and Scooby looked at each other with concern as they knew what following the police meant: ANOTHER mystery. Shaggy sighed in defeat as he turned to a whimpering Scooby. “Here we go again, ol’ buddy.”

As the van finished turning the corner, the van came to a screeching halt as all of the police cars had stopped at the bottom of the front steps of the museum. “Jinkies!” Velma exclaimed as she and the gang saw that the police cars were parked in such a cluttered fashion, that the cars had entirely blocked one side of the road. A few police officers were out redirecting some of the traffic and trying to keep some news trucks at bay. Fred got the van as close to the museum as he could, parking near a local coffee shop across the street from the museum. After the gang got out of the van, they headed for the nearby crosswalk. 

“Zoinks! Like, whatever’s happening at the museum, they sure got enough people to do it!” Shaggy said, looking back at the army of police officers and their vehicles as they walked through the crosswalk. “Ruh-huh!” Scooby agreed. 

“Do you think something happened to the emerald?” Daphne asked. 

“I can’t think of any other reason why they might be here! Come on! Maybe we can help!” Fred quickened the pace as he and the gang navigated their way to the shining marble steps of the Metropolitan Museum. There were police on the steps, at every entrance, and even on the roof as if they were searching for someone. The police noticed the teens but let them pass, assuming they were tourists like every other civilian heading towards the museum. The gang approached the Roman-eseque facade and eventually, the front entrance to the museum, passing through to the simplistic front lobby of the museum. The hostess at the front desk greeted the teens and their dog, albeit a bit flustered due to the appearance of the police. “G-good afternoon, welcome to the Metropolitan Art and History Museum.”

“Like, what’s with all the cops?” Shaggy asked. The hostess swallowed a lump in her throat, as if she was afraid to say too much. “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say right now...I-I-I will h-however inform you that the red emerald exhibit is closed until further notice.”

“Closed? Has it been stolen?” Daphne inquired. 

“Has someone just threatened to steal it?” Velma asked.

“We just want to help…” Fred tried to reassure the uneasy hostess.

“I- I’m sorry! I can’t say! P-p-please enjoy our other exhibits for the time being!” The hostess nervously replied. The gang looked at each other with concern. 

“Rook! Rore rops!” Scooby raised one of his front paws, pointing to the last exhibit at the end of the hall, with 2 policemen guarding its entrance. There were no other policemen around any of the other exhibits, and the teens headed straight for the guarded entrance. As the gang got closer, they could see 2 men talking to each other, both with their backs turned to the exhibit’s entrance. One was raising his voice about the whole situation, wanting more security to placed, and the other was more reserved, wanting to be more logical about the situation. The closer they got, the more Fred realized who the man with a deafening tone was. 

“No way…” Fred got more excited while the rest of the gang was confused as to why. The teens finally reached to entrance for the red emerald exhibit and were immediately stopped by the guards and one of them began to speak. “I’m sorry kids, but this exhibit is closed today. You can visit some of the other-”

“We know but we want to help!” Daphne said. “We’re Mystery Inc.! Like, world famous Mystery solvers? Maybe you’ve heard of us?” Shaggy added, trying to get the guards to let them in. The guards simply looked at each other and began to chuckle. “Yeah, you can help us…” The other guard replied in between laughs. “You can go hom-”

“WHAT’S GOING ON BACK THERE?!!” The loud man shouted as he turned to face the guards, and they stood at attention. He was a japanese man that looked to be in his mid 40’s to early 50s, dressed in a brown suit, and donning a trenchcoat and matching fedora. Fred got a huge smile the minute he saw him. “I knew it! You’re Inspector Zenigata! Wow! ” Fred exclaimed, still smiling and his friends, still a bit confused. Zenigata wasn’t used to being noticed much by anyone, much less a teenager and his friends, so it caught him off guard. “Uh... yeah, that’s me.” 

Fred continued to gush with excitement. “Inspector, you’re my idol! The way you keep going, no matter the cost! All the adventures you’ve had! All those different traps you make! It’s an honor, sir!” Fred offered his hand to the flabbergasted Inspector, who wasn’t used to having fans around. Zenigata sheepishly grinned as he shook Fred’s hand. “Well, I’m flattered young man, I- HEY, WAIT A MINUTE! What are you kids doing, hanging around here?!?! Who are you??!!!?!” Zenigata cried, coming to his senses. 

 “Well Inspector, we’re Mystery Inc. and we want to help you solve this mystery! Whatever it is…” Velma replied.  

“I assure you, it is no mystery who is behind all this… and it is none of your business.” A voice insisted. Everyone looked to see it was the man Inspector Zenigata was talking to earlier. He was tall and lean and much younger than Zenigata, around late 20’s to early 30’s. The man had blonde hair and thick glasses that shielded his jade green eyes and a navy blue pinstripe suit. He went over to join Zenigata in dealing with these meddling kids and introduced himself. “Inspector Victor Sullivan, ICPO. We appreciate the concern of civilians but we insist on continuing with your day.”

“Civilians? Inspector Sullivan, we have solved mysteries all around the world, taking down criminals of all shapes and sizes! We are more than capable of helping you!” Daphne rebutted. “Oh? Really?” Inspector Sullivan sarcastically replied, unamused. 

“Gentleman, if we are done dealing with these kids, can we continue please?” A elderly man interrupted, anxious to get back to business. Mystery Inc. hadn’t noticed him before he had spoken.  “Oh, of course, Mr. Motley.” Zenigata replied, taking his eyes off of Mystery Inc. for a moment, and Inspector Sullivan kept trying to dissuade the teens from meddling any further. 

“Look, whatever sort of mysteries you kids have managed to have miraculously solved, this isn’t some local hoodlum running around in a Halloween costume. This is much bigger than any one of you can handle. So, do us all a favor ‘Mystery Inc.’; why don’t you go home and play with your toys and let the adults handle this?” “Excuse me?!!?!” Daphne replied angrily. This set off an argument between the teens, the guards, and Inspector Sullivan.

Meanwhile, Zenigata continued to talk to Mr. Motley, the museum’s curator. “Inspector Zenigata, are you quite certain that it’s him?” Mr. Motley asked. “Of course it’s him! This is his calling card and this sort of high profile artifact is just the sort of thing he would go for! Mr. Motley, I highly suggest you put every able bodied man you can find to guard the emerald!” Inspector Zenigata replied. “Of course, I’ll contact Mr. Everly and we can sort this whole thing out.” Being only the museum curator, Mr. Motley had to run everything by his superior. “Although I will tell you Inspector, we - WILL YOU STOP THAT INFERNAL RACKET?!” Mr. Motley cried out in frustration to the arguing group, now silent at his (very loud) demands. Mr. Motley continued. “Inspector Zenigata, I will tell you that our last night guard has suddenly quit.” 

“Quit? What for?” Zenigata asked.“I don’t know!” Mr. Motley replied nervously, unsure of how to explain the situation.“WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON’T KNOW?!” Zenigata responded, now more irate.“I mean he just up and left! Without as much as a word! And to make matters worse, this has happened to 8 of our guards in the past month!” Mr. Motley’s words now made everyone intrigued, but Inspector Sullivan seemed to be less so. 

“You mean that none of your past guards have mentioned anything as to why they left? Odd...” Velma inquired. “You kids are still here?!” Zenigata said irately, the teens now helping themselves into the room. “Sounds like they’re scared…” Daphne added. Fred spoke up, with a mischievous smirk. “Scared of a ghost? We know a lot about those...” “Yeah, like, too much!” Shaggy commented.

“Now that’s just silly! Why would he do a thing like that?” Zenigata replied.“Roo’s re ralking arout, Fred?” Scooby asked. “Like yeah! Who’s ‘he’?” Shaggy added. From reading all about his idol’s adventures, Fred knew exactly who Zenigata was talking about. “Gang, I think he’s talking about Lupin the Third!”

“Of I’ve been talking about Lupin! Who’d you think I was talking about, Sonny and Cher?!” Zenigata shouted, getting up in Fred’s face (which startled Fred a little). “Who?” Shaggy and Scooby said, cocking their heads to the side. “Shaggy, Lupin the Third is a world famous thief! He’s been all over the world stealing priceless artifacts in nearly impossible heists!” Velma replied. “Don’t you ever read the news, Shaggy?” Daphne was a bit miffed at how Shaggy didn’t know the reputation such a famous criminal. “Like, The only time I ever read the news is for the weather and comics!” Shaggy replied.

“You know, Inspector Sullivan, you didn’t seem too surprised at the possibility of a ghost being the cause of all this trouble…” Velma stated suspiciously. “Yeah, like you know something that we don’t…” Daphne agreed. Zenigata did admit the Sullivan seemed to not be all that surprised at the possibility of a ghost. “Sullivan, you know more about the red emerald than I do. If I’m going to catch Lupin, I’m going to have to learn all I can about it. Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Sullivan heaved a sigh, pushing his glasses into place. “I didn’t think it would be relevant to this case but given how things are turning out, it looks like it is. This red emerald actually has a bit of history behind it, quite prevalent to your case, Inspector Zenigata. Long ago, there were two thieves that planned to steal the emerald: one was Vincente León and the other was-”

“Let me guess, Arsene Lupin the First.” Zenigata interrupted. Sullivan continued. “Yes, Lupin the Third’s grandfather. León and Lupin had teamed up for that heist and of course, were successful in stealing it and planned to split the money it was worth between the two of them. But León wanted to keep the emerald for himself and decided to betray Lupin the First. That betrayal ended up costing his life…among the living, some claim. Bent on making sure no one else would take the jewel from him ever again, Vincente León’s  ghost now follows the emerald wherever it goes, terrorizing all who dare to even try and take it from him. Most who are unfortunate enough to run into him, simply call him ‘The Specter’. And I fear that The Specter has followed the emerald here as well...”

“Aww come on! A specter flyin’ around, scaring people away people from taking a gem he was too greedy to part with, even in death? Who’d believe all that hooey?” Zenigata said, quick to dismiss the Specter story. “Like, you’d be surprised man…” Shaggy uneasily replied, hugging Scooby as both of them shook with fright.

“Even so, most of the time it’s some guy in a mask trying to scare people away. We should know, it’s our field of knowledge.” Velma stated. “And I’d like to assume you didn’t do months of research on this particular case and learn of the unfathomable accounts that connect with it.” Sullivan snapped back. “This emerald has had a long and bloody history, especially before anyone in the Lupin family got their hands on it. And I’m most certainly not going to let this case be handled by a bunch of amateurs.” “‘Amateurs?!’”  Fred echoed, annoyed.

Zenigata turned to the teens. “I know you kids want to help but Sullivan does have a point. I can’t let civilians into this case, especially if they could get hurt. Lupin the Third is not just some petty thief to be taken lightly. He can be very dangerous when he wants to be. You seem like good kids but I don’t want you to get hurt. Guards, escort Mystery Inc. from the premises.” 

The guards motioned for the group to leave and directed them back to the entrance of the museum. They were miffed that the Inspector wouldn't let them help (most of them at least.).

“Like, you heard what they said. They’ve already got this covered, there’s no need to butt in.” Shaggy pressed. “No, Shaggy. We can’t just ignore this mystery.” Fred stressed to his friend as they all walked down the steps. “Like, why not?!” Shaggy complained. “Don’t you think there’s something off about this whole thing? Like why would a master thief need to resort to scaring people?” Velma stated. “And I don’t know about you, but that Inspector Sullivan rubs me the wrong way. I don’t care if he thinks he’s trying to do ‘what’s best for us’. He didn’t need to be so rude!” Daphne added. 

The teens crossed the street back to the Mystery Machine and climbed into the van. “And I can tell you one thing: we’re going to catch Lupin in the act, tonight!” Fred exclaimed. The rest of the gang turned to each other in surprise. “Freddie, Inspector Zenigata has been trying to catch Lupin for years and hasn’t succeeded and Zenigata is an expert on the man! What makes you think we can do it?” Daphne said, trying to reason with Fred. “Lupin hasn’t run into us yet! And besides, if we don’t catch him, we can at least slow him down!” Fred replied, confident in himself and his friends abilities. 

“Like, we don’t even know if Lupin is going to pull off the heist tonight anyway! We didn’t even get to look at that note he sent!” Shaggy rebutted, Scooby nodding in agreement. “I think we might….” Velma said pulling out her cellphone, Shaggy and Scooby a bit confused. Velma went to the internet browser on her and began to type in the search engine. “Lets see… search for Lupin The Third aaaand- aha! Here we go! ‘Famous Thief Lupin the Third aims for Red Emerald’!” Velma read the headline of the online news article aloud and she scrolled down to a picture of the note that Lupin sent and read it aloud. “Okay…’Wanted to stroll down my grandfather’s memory lane. So I have decided to steal the red emerald tonight. Don’t wait up for me! Signed Lupin The Third’. Hmph...this guy seems to have a sense of humor.” “Yeah, like, look at that!” Shaggy agreed, pointing to a cartoonish doodle of a wide eyed grinning face of a man with sideburns at the end of Lupin’s signature. “Is that supposed to be him?” “A cartoon-y self portrait, but yeah, that’s him.” Velma replied. 

“Well gang, it looks like we've got a mystery on our hands and a thief to catch!” Fred exclaimed. “We’ll get some supplies, do some surveillance and research…” Fred continued to explain and discuss his plans to the gang, while Shaggy and Scooby looked to each other with perturbed states. “Well Scoob, looks like it's good-bye vacation…” “...And rello reepy ruseum at right.” 

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

Back at the Museum, Inspector’s Zenigata and Sullivan were in the office of Mr. Everly, the museum director, accompanied by museum curator Mr. Motley, and taking notes of the whole affair was Mr. Everly’s assistant, the auburn-haired and bespectacled Charlotte Smith. Zenigata and Sullivan were going over the security measures for that night with Everly and Motley. Zenigata was especially stressing the importance of the security measures because Lupin was in town, and wherever Lupin goes, trouble (and Zenigata) are sure to follow. 

“I’m telling you Mr. Everly, Lupin can be dangerous! He’s smart, charming, and a master of disguise! He’s not to-”

“We know, Inspector Zenigata. You’ve stressed the importance of keeping Lupin at bay enough! Besides, we’re doing all that we can! Finding extra security on such short notice is trying enough as it is, with the word of a ghost on the loose!” Mr. Everly said with a Southern drawl. “If you ask me, this whole ghost business and Lupin showing up is no coincidence.” Mr. Motley added.

“Wait… you think Lupin is behind all this ghost business?” Zenigata shook his head in disbelief. “Why would Lupin bother sending a note he was going to steal the emerald tonight if he had been already scaring security guards? Why would he even want to scare them off in the first place?” Inspector Sullivan turned to Inspector Zenigata and put a hand on his shoulder. “You said it yourself, Inspector Zenigata. Lupin is a master of disguise. What’s to say he wouldn’t dress as a ghost and scare people off? And given his personality and if he is as smart as you claim him to be, Lupin may be bored out of his mind and has been getting a kick out of scaring security guards.” 

“Maybe…” Zenigata couldn’t help but think that there was something more to all this and his thoughts began to race. Lupin wouldn’t go to all this trouble of ‘haunting’ people only to announce that he’ll simply steal it without much fanfare. Zenigata knew that Lupin was just as much a showman as he was a brilliant thief. Was Lupin working with another thief, like his grandfather before him? His train of thought was interrupted by the ringing of the office telephone, which the assistant, Charlotte Smith promptly answered. 

“Mr. Everly’s office.” She said with a southern drawl. “You’ve managed to find guards to fill the position? Volunteers from the police station? Thank you sir, I’ll tell them right away.” Ms. Smith hung up the phone and turned to the men in the room, pushing her cat-eye glasses back into place. “Police officers from a nearby station have volunteered to fill the empty positions for tonight.” 

“Yes, we guessed as much through your conversation, Charlotte.” Mr. Motley huffed. “Well, there’s no need to get huffy with me! Like they say, ‘don’t shoot the messenger’!” Charlotte rebuffed.

“Either way, it’s good to hear that the local law enforcement is willing to help out.” Inspector Sullivan acknowledged. “In that case, you gentlemen should start getting things ready for tonight.” Mr. Everly said. “Right. Mr. Everly.” Inspector Zenigata tipped his hat to the museum director and then to the curator and Ms. Smith and began to walk out of the room. Sullivan also bade them farewell and followed his partner. Zenigata still had that nagging in the back of his mind about this whole ghost business but there was one thing he did know: with Lupin in the mix, anything was  possible. As both Inspectors faded from view, Mr. Everly looked at his watch and realized it was way past lunchtime and he turned to his secretary. 

“Charlotte, why don’t you go and fetch us a late lunch? I’ve got a feeling we’re going to be here a while.” Mr. Everly said begrudgingly, knowing all the security planning was going to take time. “Right away sir.” Charlotte nodded and turned to the door, making her exit. 

She made her way down a flight of stairs to the main gallery and walked towards the front entrance. As Charlotte made her way down the front steps, she spotted a little cafe directly across the street from the museum, and also someone she knew out of the corner of her eye. No, it couldn’t be… She thought to herself, trying to dissuade herself that it wasn’t who she thought it was. When Charlotte finished crossing the street and approached the cafe, she heard a call from a familiar voice. “Fujiko!” “Well look who it is, the man everyone’s talking about.” Fujiko Mine, said in a honeyed voice.

“Maybe I should also attempt to blow your cover too, It’s not like the cops are crawling all over the town...Lupin.” She said with a smug expression as she opened the cafe door. Lupin trailed behind her. “Hey, you know I can spot you from a mile away Fujicakes! Besides, this isn’t exactly your best disguise. I’m surprised Ol’ Pops didn’t recognize you.” “He’s a bit too focused on catching you right now to care about me.” Fujiko replied, then ordered her ‘bosses’ meals as well as her own. “Yeah, that sounds like him. I’ve got a pretty good guess as to why you’re here and its not just for my dashing good looks…” Lupin said with a knowing grin. 

A more gruff voice came in from behind both of them. “Trying to get the jump on us again, huh Fujiko?” It was Jigen, Lupin’s right hand man and still as distrustful of Fujiko as ever. Fujiko huffed and looked away from both of them. “It's bad enough that you guys always butt in on my jobs…” “Or you butt into ours…usually the latter.” Jigen retorted. Fujiko scoffed and wasn’t too phased at Jigen’s words. “I’m assuming Goemon is lurking around here somewhere as well?” “Of course! It’s not a party without him!” Lupin replied enthusiastically. “Well, since you three decided to steal my thunder, I want in.” Fujiko insisted.  Jigen began to protest this idea. “I don’t think s-” “-That will be a problem!” Lupin interrupted. Lupin never could resist Fujiko, even if he tried, and as always, this left Jigen frustrated. Jigen couldn’t even count all the times that Fujiko had stabbed them in the back and yet Lupin always came back to her. “Come by my place later for all the details?” Lupin eagerly asked. Fujiko grabbed her order and smiled coyly. “See you after my shift, sweetheart…” Fujiko gave a small laugh as she walked out the door with Lupin watching her every step, with a smitten look on his face. 

“Once...just once I’d wish you’d refuse that woman…” Jigen growled. “Come on, Jigen! I haven’t seen her in ages! And besides, it wouldn’t hurt to have an extra hand on this job.” Lupin tried to put his partner more at ease. “I know, but I’m just counting the seconds until she stabs us in the back for the umpteenth time.” Jigen replied. “You don’t know that she’s going to do that!” Lupin insisted. It wasn’t that he didn’t know of Fujiko’s wiles; Lupin just never met someone who had made double crossing so much fun. Jigen scoffed and began to smirk.“Yeah,... she might want half of what the emerald’s worth all to herself and leave the other half to split between us.” Lupin sighed and rolled his eyes. “Either way, if we all play our cards right, it should be a pretty easy job. Even with Fujiko around, what’s the worst that can happen?” Lupin grinned as he and exited Jigen exited the cafe and walked down the street a-ways and turned into an alley. 

 “I don’t know man, this whole thing with this ghost that’s supposed to be hanging around that emerald doesn’t sit right with me.” Jigen tried to caution Lupin of anything unexpected that might happen as they kept walking down the alley. The two then came to a stop, now deep into the alleyway and far out of sight from the police. Lupin then took a small glance behind him. 

“Oh, there you are Goemon! I was beginning to think you got lost! Then again, you’d be pretty hard to miss in that samurai get-up.” Lupin teased. Goemon (a master japanese swordsman and Lupin’s second accomplice) came from out of the shadows, with a stern look and gave but a simple response in return. “I could say the same for you in that bright red jacket you’re wearing.” Lupin gave a small frown while Jigen chuckled a bit in amusement. 

“Well Goemon, did you find out anything?” Jigen asked as he stopped laughing. “There has already been word of a ghost haunting the emerald’s exhibit. And that ghost is scaring all that come near it. Including a number of security guards.” Goemon replied.

 “Already? The emerald’s only been in town for a month!” Lupin raised an eyebrow, the gears now turning in his head. Jigen had always been wary of the supernatural, whereas Lupin needed more convincing of that fact. Jigen had seen a lot of strange things in his adventures with Lupin and he wanted to make sure that his friend was aware of the possibility of there really being supernatural forces at work here. “Lupin, are you sure you want to go through with this? This ghost is startin’ to seem pretty real just by the sounds of it.” Goemon spoke up, as he was also starting to believe the tales this supposed ghost. “I agree with Jigen. From all this talk of ghosts, we should at least be cautious of anything out of the ordinary.” Lupin didn’t believe that there was actually a ghost running around, nor did he want to. Lupin wasn’t going to run away from this job just based on hear-say. “Okay guys, we’ll keep an eye out for anything unusual but I still don’t think its a ghost…” Jigen and Goemon just looked at each other, not saying anything, like they both had a feeling that this was the start of something that would end badly for all of them.

[thetapirsarehyperfixating]

hello tumblr user hux-aireaire, do you enjoy feet? anyways that doesn't matter, i've come to talk to you about how i would enjoy the sweet tender embrace of mickey of the mouse. he has it all. good lips. a full figure. a good laugh (HO HO!) a tail, and one giant c

roree why would you do this

[neotrinitythinker]

thirteen this episode when graham, ryan, and yasmin keep asking about her past and ask if they can see gallifrey when she's clinging desperately to the facade she's built up with them

[leonidas-writes]

Reuinited

Demeer was busy for years recreating demons that had died as his power waned, and restoring those who he'd altered to their first forms. Farore watched in silence as he brought Nyx to the Deku Tree. His gentle smile watching the two old friends talk settled the youngest's nerves at how her brother would settle back in to having a race to look over. When he finally returned to his realm, breathed in the dusty air, it didn't take long for Din to appear.

"Demeer!" The elder turned, arms wrapping around his sister as she threw herself at him, laughing in delight. "Fuck I've missed you!" Demeer laughed, ran a hand through her hair.

"And I you, Din."

"'Meer!" The goddess of courage lunged at them, nearly bowling down the two. Bright laughter echoed across the wastes, and a kiss was planted to her forehead.

"Hey 'Rore."

"What happened to you?!"

"Oh, y'know. Went power crazy, turned into a genocidal maniac, cursed myself into an eons long cycle of torture, got sealed away by a lesser deity, the usual." A red hand smacked the back of his hand, earning a smirk.

"You're such an ass, Demeer. Don't twist power, that's my domain." It was her turn to earn a smack to the head, and she gave a cocky grin.

"And you call me an ass."

"Big brother...?" Demeer turned, setting down the other goddesses, and held his arm out to Nayru. She stared a moment before racing forward, hugging him tightly. Her brother's grip on her tightened as she began to sob.

"Nay, Nay, I'm right here. I promise. I'm not leaving again." Her legs gave out, and he lowered them to the ground. Their sisters were quickly squishing Nayru against him, and she gave a quiet protest, even as she buried her face in Din's hair and clung to Farore's shirt. They stayed like that a long while, even after the sobs had trailed off and the goddesses of wisdom and courage had fallen asleep.

"I guess we should be getting them to bed, huh?" A small smile graced the dark god's face.

"Just like old times, yeah? I take Nay you take 'Rore?"

"I'm far from that week fifteen year old who could barely lift a pencil. I haven't been that kid since before we got dropped here."

"I know. You've grown so much, Din." A hand came to rest on her cheek, and she leaned into her brother's touch.

"Gotten too smart for my own good, but, y'know. Knowledge is power and all that." A bright peal of laughter came from the eldest, and he pressed his forehead to hers.

"Mm, I suppose something like that's true."

"Yeah, something like that." They fell asleep there, a family again, all huddled up.

[maddysacademics]

Rituals 1

I am currently reading Think Like An Anthropologist and I could honestly talk all day about how cool and interesting the content is. I wanted to do some extra reading about rituals around the world because the book is doing exactly what it’s supposed to be doing- making me question everything. And I’m just so intrigued by what other countries may celebrate as we celebrate Christmas, for example. So! Here!

Oban Bon festival - Japan

Honours spirits of dead, originated from buddhists

Celebrated for over 500 years and is popular and well known in Japan

Said to have started when a specific buddhist saw his dead mother and made her an offering, and danced with joy as she was released from her suffering

It’s celebrated over 3 days in the 7th month in the year, and honours and commemorates the dead

Rituals of this day include: visiting the grave, dancing a special traditional dance, hanging lanterns to guide the dead, and making food offerings

Some people dress up too, as they believe they are welcoming home the dead ancestors and want to make it a joyful occasion, not a sorrowful one

Songkran - Thailand

The buddhist new year, which starts in what would be April for us

It’s celebrated in Thailand, Myanmar, Laos and Cambodia

The ritual consists of a huge water fight. It’s such a big event that tourists travel from around the world to join in or observe 

April is Thailand’s hottest month so the water fight is also very refreshing

Further in the past, people used to run water over buddhist statues and then run the same water over village elders as a sign of respect and blessings

The water represents cleansing and purity, ridding them of mistakes or bad luck from the past year

People also spend time with family, and donate to buddhist monks for Songkran

Haka - New Zealand (Maori)

This is a ritual dance which imitates a dance of Tane-Rore, who is the son of the Sun God (Tama-Nui-Te-Ra) and the personification of summer (Hine-Raumati)

The dance persists of flickering hand movements, body slaps, and foot stamping

Traditionally it was men who did this dance, but women also do it too now, and it was originally used before battle to demonstrate the men’s unity and scare off the enemy

Haka is the general term for all Maori dances, so there are many different types that are used for different occasions

The pilgrimage for Rocio - Spain

This ritual happens 50 days after Easter on the pentecost weekend and has been celebrated since the 1600s

It’s a religious festival which pays homage to the virgin of El Rocio

It’s celebrated in the location of Rocio, and people participating (hundreds of thousands) use horse drawn carriages or ride horse backs to arrive

Rituals include playing music, dancing, camping while travelling, eating, singing, making bonfires and it ends with a procession arriving at the shrine of the virgin, and she is marched through town

People also participate in ‘the jumping of the fence’ and climb over the altar railings to be able to carry the statue of the virgin

Dragobete - Romania

Dragobete is almost like Romania’s Valentine’s Day, symbolising youth, love and hope 

There are rituals performed by young people, like finding flowers in the woods and dancing in front of the public, in order for them to find love and happiness in the future

Being alone on Dragobete is said to be bad luck in love for the rest of the year

Dragobete is a Roman God of love who reminded people to never stop celebrating love

It happens a month or less before the spring equinox, which is when nature starts to reproduce

And there’s more coming soon!

[scarburned-aa]

⟡ UNNECESSARILY DETAILED DISLIKES

MUSE NAME: aurora grace.

LEAST FAVOURITE NICKNAME: rore.

LEAST FAVOURITE COLOR: neons.

LEAST FAVOURITE SEASON: summer ,  if she has to choose.

LEAST FAVOURITE WEATHER: humid.

WHAT IS WORSE, HOT OR COLD:  hot.

LEAST FAVOURITE HOLIDAY: thanksgiving.

LEAST FAVOURITE FOOD: caviar.

LEAST FAVOURITE FLAVOUR: bitter.

LEAST FAVOURITE DRINK: grape juice.

LEAST FAVOURITE SCENT: musky.

LEAST FAVOURITE SOUND: bones breaking.

LEAST FAVOURITE BOOK: return of the native  ( she never even finished it ).

LEAST FAVOURITE MOVIE GENRE: rom coms.

LEAST FAVOURITE TV SHOW: she doesn’t really watch tv.

LEAST FAVOURITE SCHOOL SUBJECT:  she didn’t really go to school.

LEAST FAVOURITE ASPECT OF THEIR JOB: depends on the job ,  but rude people over all.

LEAST FAVOURITE FICTIONAL CHARACTER: n / a.

LEAST FAVOURITE PERSON: the people who created her.

LEAST FAVOURITE TRAIT IN OTHERS: rudeness.

LEAST FAVOURITE PLACE: labs.

LEAST FAVOURITE THING TO TALK ABOUT: her past.

LEAST FAVOURITE THING ABOUT THEMSELVES: that she was made to hurt others.

LEAST FAVOURITE SEXUAL POSITION: she’s a virgin.

LEAST FAVOURITE DAILY CHORE: dusting.

LEAST FAVOURITE STYLE OF CLOTHING: bell bottoms.

LEAST FAVOURITE ACTIVITY: lying.

LEAST FAVOURITE SUPERPOWER: her own ability of painful touch.

LEAST FAVOURITE THING ABOUT HUMANITY IN GENERAL:  immorality.

LEAST FAVOURITE THING ABOUT BEING IN LOVE:  fear of touching.

LEAST FAVOURITE THING ABOUT DEATH: that she’s too scared to prevent it.

tagged by : @starvcincd

tagging : whoever wants to !