#according to me and based on the photos

[amphibianaday]

day 1421

[sidmjkgc]

I was playing geo guesser, now I wanna know what happened here.

[mee-op]

Facts about in-game Yuu (Twisted Wonderland):

NOTES:

This is an ongoing list and will be updated with new information. I'm not caught up w/ chap 6 and I'm not very perceptive. This list is so long because of all the people who commented/sent asks, so thank you Last but not least, some of these might be a stretch/be slightly incorrect so bare w/ me plz :] More Yuu facts [ ONE / TWO ] <- not mine

They've been good friends with Heartslabyul ever since Book 1.

They're forgiving/don't hold any bad blood with the people who've overblotted (at least on the outside).

According to the Harveston event, they can play the flute.

They don't like mentioning that they might return to their world (Deuce's Wishing Star vignette).

Many people consider them a "goody-two-shoes" (Leona, Ruggie).

A good listener.

Based on Malleus' interactions with them, Yuu talks to him a lot more off-screen as he states that he values their opinions.

Loves Grim to hell and back.

It's implied that Yuu invites Malleus over frequently enough that he visits unprompted.

They can be snarky and brutally honest when they're pushed into it.

Comes up with stupid plans that nobody believes will work but it somehow does.

They're insecure about not having any magic.

They want to be able to help their friends.

Has a sense of self-preservation.

Does not actively seek out danger (*cough* om mc *cough*).

They've cleaned up Ramshackle since living there, however, it still looks "abandoned & ancient" on the outside.

Crowley doesn't give them more money than "needed".

Silver states that Yuu is good with swords (PE Uniform).

Both Jamil and Silver seem to think that Yuu is somewhat weird/strange.

They don't know much about mushrooms (Floyd's Camp Vargas vignette).

They're very patient.

Used to be afraid of ghosts until they got to Twisted Wonderland.

They adapt to new/difficult situations quickly and calmly.

They don't complain much.

Very much so the silent type.

The audience doesn't really see anyone helping them out with their situation, so I assume they fix most of their problems themselves.

They don't have any memories of the Great Seven before coming to Twisted Wonderland.

Fluctuates between being observant and not noticing really basic stuff.

Doesn't hesitate to say cheesy things.

Keeps calm in harsh situations.

They know how to play a blowing horn (White Rabbit Event).

Good with instruments.

Not a very good singer (NRC Uniform).

It's implied that they have high stamina.

They're interested in horseback riding and wants to play soccer with Sebek (PE Uniform).

They recommend a few books to Sebek, implying that they read in their free time.

They're short in comparison to Floyd (he calls them Shrimpy).

Grim comments that they're shorter than Vil.

Crowley mumbles that Yuu looks effeminate.

They're a bit of a romantic since they seem to often ask about love stories/fairy tales (Epel & Jade chats).

They have a habit of poking, tugging, tickling and just touching people in general. This is proven through the Home Screen character interactions, so their love language seems to be physical touch.

They get scared easily but is bad at scaring others (Halloween voice lines).

Vil notes that their uniform is baggy.

Malleus says that Yuu has gotten better at dancing (Masquerade Event).

It's implied that Yuu is good/decent at cooking since they have to make meals for both themself and Grim every day.

Yuu is decent at basketball (Ace Halloween).

Deuce remarks about a tiny piece of furniture in Ramshackle and asks if it's for Grim, meaning Yuu makes small furniture for him.

They're a good photographer.

Takes part in photography competitions (Rook Port Fest).

It's implied that Yuu carries their ghost camera everywhere because Crowley constantly makes them record events.

It's said that the game cards are actual photos that Yuu took with the ghost camera. [I don't know if this is true but a lot of people have said so]

Most, if not all the characters tell Yuu to hurry up when choosing a class, which suggests that they're indecisive.

Ace, Deuce and Cater tell Yuu to relax during classes or else they'll run out of energy.

Jack says that he got tips from Yuu while he was working in Monstro Lounge, implying that Yuu might've worked in customer service before (Book 3).

According to Grim, they have a hard time saying no to people, but when they absolutely need to-- they're very serious and a bit intimidating. "You're a real sap sometimes, you know that? Then again, when you bare your teeth it's no joke."

While they won't say no to helping others, they prefer to keep to themselves and avoid drama.

Yuu is sometimes a bit distrustful of Ace and thinks he's tricking them if he offers to do anything nice (2024 Player Birthday Greetings).

It doesn't take much to make them happy. (Deuce & Idia 2024 Player Birthday Greetings).

They became nervous when Riddle invited them to a salon for their birthday. Riddle response saying "I'll be right there with you, and will instruct you in etiquette every step of the way."

They're competitive in class-- at least when it comes to Jack (2024 Player Birthday Greetings).

They took chess lessons to try and beat Leona in a match (2024 Player Birthday Greetings).

For their birthday, Yuu asks Azul to get something that's supposedly hard for an average collector to acquire.

They're surprised when Kalim gifts them a pop-up card for their birthday.

They own a pair of fingerless gloves (gifted by Epel).

They personally invited Vil over for their birthday party and made sure to have healthy food options for him.

Not very close with Idia.

Owns a glass tumbler that reads 'Happy Birthday!' (gifted by Ortho).

Lilia gives them a CD with his screamo performances.

They were gifted so many presents on their birthday that they had trouble carrying the gifts around. (Malleus 2024 Player Birthday Greetings).

[munson-blurbs]

Summary: Your rockstar boyfriend comes home early and finds you very needy. But he already knows that, doesn't he?

WC: 1.9k

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), pure breeding kink, unprotected p in v, masturbation (m & f), mention of ovulation and periods, voyeurism if you squint, rockstar!Eddie Munson, established relationship

A/N: a collaboration with the love of my life @corroded-hellfire, based on the song Juno by Sabrina Carpenter.

--

Eddie Munson may have failed a few classes—there was a reason he had three senior years—but sex ed wasn’t one of them. He learned how to use a condom, that girls could get pregnant their first time, and the difference between a pad and a tampon (living with his Uncle Wayne kept that conversation at bay.)

But the lesson Eddie recalls now is that ovulation occurs about seven days after your last period. Which, according to the pocket calendar he keeps stashed away during touring, is today. 

It isn’t like he asks about your cycle, but when he calls from the road, you’ll mention when you have cramps or you’ve just taken a Midol. At first, he tracked your periods so he could make sure the house had a plethora of chocolate during that awful week, but then he began noticing…other patterns. 

Two months ago, you’d initiated phone sex, whining about how badly you needed him inside you, needed his cum, needed his cum inside you. Last month, you’d cheekily informed him that you’d snapped some Polaroids earlier that day and had express-mailed them to his hotel room—photos that were for his eyes only. Both of those instances occurred two weeks after your period ended. 

This month, Eddie refused to be apart from you when your desire took over. 

That’s how he finds himself ditching the End of Tour party, coming home a day early to surprise you. It’s been months without you, months stuck in close proximity with Gareth, Jeff, and Grant. If Eddie doesn’t get his hands on you soon, he might implode. 

“Babe?”

No answer. 

Eddie frowns, taking the winding stairs two at a time. The light in your bedroom is on, the door slightly ajar. A soft humming comes from inside, the noise interrupted every so often with your unrestrained moans. 

He can’t help but listen for a moment. 

“Eddie…f-fuck…right there…”

If he hadn’t been away for so long, he might have let you enjoy your solo time. Maybe he’d secretly rub one out to your sweet sounds. A high keening sound robs Eddie of his thoughts as he slips his own hand into his pants. 

His mind is blank, no memory of the thoughts that were just floating through his consciousness. Now, there’s only the sound of your breathy moans and the way his fingers wrap around the base of his cock. 

“Eddie,” you whine pathetically, “need you to fill me up, baby. Please, please, please.”

As if his body is running on autopilot in response to what you just said, Eddie removes his hand from his pants and pushes the bedroom door fully open. Your head is thrown back and your eyes are closed in pleasure so you don’t see your boyfriend as he stalks closer to the bed.

“Need your cum, Eddie,” you whimper, body trembling with want. 

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Eddie coos softly, loud enough so you know he’s there, but not enough to scare you or ruin the mood. “I’ll give you everything you want.”

Your eyes fly open at the sound of that sultry voice. The mood in the room begs for you to keep going, to keep working your fingers in and out of your needy hole as Eddie rips his shirt off over his head. But your curiosity is too strong to keep at bay, even with the neediness surging through you.

“E-Eddie?” you ask through labored breath. “What’re you doing home?”

“Skipped out early so I could be with my girl.”

Eddie undoes the buckle on his belt, his eyes locked on yours the entire time. “And it’s a good thing I did. I can’t have my pretty princess all needy for me like this. Let me help you, baby.” Eddie gets the handcuffs off his belt and hangs them on his index finger as he approaches the door of the bed. A dark eyebrow quirks up as he gives you a smirk. “Now that I’m home with these, sweetheart, you don’t need to use those pink fuzzy ones you keep in the drawer.”

“Please,” you whimper.

That one little word is all Eddie needs to hear before he kicks his jeans off and quickly shuffles out of his boxers. He kicks them somewhere to be found at a later time and kneels on the foot of the bed. 

Your dark, lust filled eyes follow his every movement. 

“Eds, can you—”

Eddie grins, already pressing kisses along your inner thighs to your core. “Baby, you don’t gotta tell me what to do. I know this body better than I know my own.”

With that, his tongue finds your clit, licking and sucking with excruciating precision. His ringed fingers wrap around your thighs, pulling them over his shoulders and tugging you close. 

He breathes in, inhaling your scent like it’s a god-sent nectar. 

“Missed my pretty girl and her pretty pussy,” he mumbles into you. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

Your leg twitches as he laps at you, a mixture of his saliva and your arousal pooling beneath you. The noises you’re making are involuntary and straight up obscene. 

“Eddie…Eddie…oh my god, Eddie!” Throwing your head back, you feel your body tense in anticipation of that delicious release. Your orgasm is a tidal wave, crashing over you in a way you hadn’t experienced since Eddie had left for the tour. 

Eddie sits back now, rocking on his heels. “Still got it, huh?” His grin is proud and slick with your sheen. 

“Definitely.”

“Good.” He presses his palms to his thighs and stands up, giving you a better view of his own desire. 

Pre-cum leaks from his tip, his cock rock-hard just from eating you out. You have a strong suspicion that if you’d taken any longer to finish, he would’ve busted before you. 

You want to take him in your mouth, to glide your tongue over the prominent vein and knead his balls until you’re swallowing his load. 

Eddie, however, can only focus on one thing. 

“Heard my pretty girl wants me to fill her up,” he coos. “Is that true? Do you want me to fill you up until my cum drips out of you?”

To his surprise, you shake your head no. 

“Don’t want it to drip out of me. I want to keep all of it inside.”

The groan that emanates from Eddie’s throat fuels a fire in your belly. His cock twitches, the head tapping against his navel. 

“Sounds like you want me to claim you. Permanently.” Not just the hickeys that fade within a few days. No, you want him to—

Without hesitating, Eddie climbs onto the bed and positions himself on top of you. 

“Allow me the honors, sweetheart.” Eddie drags the tip of his cock through your wet center and pushes in with a groan. “Fuck, thassit. Feels even better than I remember.”

You gripped his biceps, relishing in the gentle stretch of him within you. Every tour felt like an eternity, but that first time together each time he came home was worth the wait. 

“Now,” Eddie growled into your ear as he found his pace, “tell me what you want. Tell me what you need from me.”

You scrounge up a reply with the sliver of your mental capacity that isn’t focused on him. “Your baby.”

Eddie smiles, kissing down your jawline. “You need my baby, huh? Need me to put a baby in this cute belly of yours?”

“Mhm. Need that s-so bad, Eddie. Please.” The words tumble from your lips in utter desperation. All you can think about is having his baby, his hands caressing your bump, knowing that he’s the reason you’re pregnant. 

“Goddamn,” Eddie hisses. He buries his head in your neck. “Beg for my baby some more.”

You arch your back, letting him wrap his arm around your waist. “Please give me your baby. Pleasepleaseplease—”

His fingers grip you harder, his movements becoming more erratic with each thrust. You can feel his fingernails digging crescents into your skin. 

“There we go, sweet girl. Fuck, ‘m close…”

You nod, too enraptured in him to even utter the words ‘me, too.’ All you can manage are a few strangled moans as your orgasm washes over you. Your body is light with pleasure, drifting away on a cloud of contentment. 

“Eddie.” The sound of his name on your lips tips him over the edge. It’s just the way you say it, all breathy and soft, that drives him wild. 

With a final groan, Eddie spills into you. “Oh, sh-shit…that’s it. Take it. Take my cum, baby.” There was a primal edge to every word. 

Both spent from all your exertion, Eddie flops down next to you and the only sounds are two ragged breaths as you both attempt to control your breathing. 

Once your bodies have calmed down a bit, Eddie turns on his side and splays one large hand across your lower abdomen. His warm palm is a comforting weight, one that has your eyes slipping closed and a smile coming to your face. 

“You’re home early,” you finally say.

Eddie chuckles and leans in to press a lingering kiss to your shoulder.

“Missed you. Didn’t wanna go to some dumb party if you weren’t going to be there.” He presses another kiss a little higher on your shoulder. “Especially not when you’re ovulating.”

Your heavy eyes open and you let your head fall to the side, coming face to face with your boyfriend.

“How’d you know I was ovulating?”

“I remember when you got your period,” he says. “Just some simple math. I may not have been able to pass geometry, but this kind of math I can do.”

A soft chuckle emanates from your chest and you fully turn on your side to face him. Eddie wastes no time pulling you flush up against his chest, his strong arms winding around you.

“Came here with a mission to knock me up, huh?” you tease, nuzzling your face against the side of his neck. 

“Seemed like an easy decision.” Eddie presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You want to be carrying my baby. I want to get you pregnant. Little Munson Junior wants to be born. Everyone wins.”

You laugh as you bury your face against his shoulder. 

“Would love to have a little you,” you say. 

“Nah, I hope they look like you,” Eddie says. “One of you is already unbearably cute, I can’t wait to have two.”

“Can’t wait to snuggle them,” you say, a lazy smile spreading on your face at the thought. “You, me, and a little baby.”

“Our little baby,” Eddie adds.

“Hopefully this one took,” you say.

“Either way I’m prepared. If you’re not, I’m more than willing to fuck you every waking moment until it sticks. If you are…well, I may have picked up a few pregnancy tests on the way home,” Eddie admits.

“You didn’t.” You look up at your boyfriend, a gleeful chuckle following your words.

“Hell yeah, I did. Corroded Coffin’s latest album and tour are over and done with. It’s time you and I had our own little collaboration.”

“I like the sound of that,” you hum. “We make pretty sweet music together.”

“Oh, we absolutely do.” 

Eddie waggles his eyebrows roguishly before resting his forehead against yours. “But tonight,” he murmurs mischievously, “I’m hoping to hear some screamo.” 

--

[nasa]

A Geminid meteor streaks across the sky as the Soyuz TMA-19M spacecraft is rolled out by train to the launch pad at the Baikonur Cosmodrome on Sunday, Dec. 13, 2015, in Kazakhstan. Credit: NASA/Joel Kowsky

Make a Wish! How to See the Geminid Meteor Shower

Every December, we have a chance to see one of our favorite meteor showers – the Geminids. To help you prepare, we’ve answered some of your most commonly asked questions. Happy viewing, stargazers!

These radar images of near-Earth object 3200 Phaethon were generated by astronomers at the National Science Foundation's Arecibo Observatory on Dec. 17, 2017. Observations of Phaethon were conducted at Arecibo from Dec. 15 through 19, 2017. At time of closest approach on Dec. 16 at 3 p.m. PST (6 p.m. EST, 2300 UTC), the asteroid was about 6.4 million miles (10.3 million kilometers) away, or about 27 times the distance from Earth to the Moon. Credit: Arecibo Observatory/NASA/NSF

What are the Geminids?

The Geminids are caused by debris from a celestial object known as 3200 Phaethon striking Earth’s atmosphere. Phaethon’s origin is the subject of some debate. Some astronomers consider it to be an extinct comet, based on observations showing some small amount of material leaving its surface. Others argue that it has to be an asteroid because of its orbit and its similarity to the main-belt asteroid Pallas.

All meteors appear to come from the same place in the sky, which is called the radiant. The Geminids appear to radiate from a point in the constellation Gemini, hence the name “Geminids.” The graphic shows the radiants of 388 meteors with speeds of 35 km/s observed by the NASA Fireball Network in December 2020. All the radiants are in Gemini, which means they belong to the Geminid shower. Credit: NASA

Why are they called the Geminids?

All meteors associated with a shower have similar orbits, and they all appear to come from the same place in the sky, which is called the radiant. The Geminids appear to radiate from a point in the constellation Gemini, hence the name “Geminids.”

A Geminid streaks across the sky in this photo from December 2019. Credit: NASA

When is the best time to view them?

The Geminid meteor shower is active for much of December, but the peak will occur during the night of Dec. 13 into the morning of Dec. 14, 2023. Meteor rates in rural areas can be upwards of one per minute this year with minimal moonlight to interfere.

What do I need to see them?

As with all meteor showers, all you need is a clear sky, darkness, a bit of patience, and perhaps warm outerwear and blankets for this one. You don’t need to look in any particular direction, as meteors can generally be seen all over the sky. If you want to take photographs, check out these helpful tips.

An infographic based on 2019’s meteor camera data for the Geminids. Credit: NASA

Do you have any advice to help me see the Geminids better?

Find the darkest place you can and give your eyes about 30 minutes to adapt to the dark. Avoid looking at your cell phone, as it will disrupt your night vision. Lie flat on your back and look straight up, taking in as much sky as possible.

A Geminid streaks across the sky in this photo from December 2011. Credit: NASA

What will the meteors look like?

According to Bill Cooke, lead for the Meteoroid Environment Office at NASA’s Marshall Space Flight Center in Huntsville, Alabama, “Most meteors appear to be colorless or white, however the Geminids appear with a greenish hue. They’re pretty meteors!” Depending on the meteor’s chemical composition, the meteor will emit different colors when burned in the Earth’s atmosphere. Oxygen, magnesium, and nickel usually produce green.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[honeytonedhottie]

HOT GIRL SUMMER⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍹

hot girl summer is officially here and its the perfect time to have lots of fun and make rly amazing memories, while also feeling and looking ur best ✨ AND continuing to pursue ur goals while doing it.

THE RULES ;

in order to have a hot girl summer there are rules that need to be set in order to ensure that u have fun in a safe manner that aligns with ur goals and who u are as a person. MY hot girl summer rules are

dont put urself in situations that are compromising to ur safety or the safety of ur friends (look out for each other)

try ur best to keep moving and doing things with ur time

be social and HAVE FUN (dont ruin ur own fun)

if u didn't document it, it does NOT count (take lots of photos)

i dont have a LOT of rules for my hot girl summer, i just put those in place bcuz i wanna make sure that i have the most memorable and enjoyable summer that i can.

THE PREP ;

we should be preparing for our hot girl summer. to be helpful and just for funsies, to help you feel your most confident and radiant this summer ✨. if i were to break down the most important things to prep for hot girl summer they’d be ur base (skin + body) ur company, and ur wardrobe.

BASE ; 

moisturize ur skin after your showers while your skin is still slightly damp. for moisturized and soft skin this summer 

if ur not already using sunscreen on your face AND body then what are you even doing? get in the habit of putting sunscreen on ur body to promote a smooth and even skin tone and protect u from the sun ofc 

get into a solid workout regimen that u can be consistent with. focus on building ur body to perfection! work out as much as u want, i recommend 3-4 times a week. 

my recommendations for soft skin is to use an african net sponge bcuz that always gets me CLEAN. also, use african black soap for glowy skin and use shea butter on ur body while ur skin is still slightly damp. 

not only does it smell yummy but it rly REALLY moisturizes you well. i also recommend using it during the summer bcuz the glow that u get from it is REAL 🌺🍹

i’ve elaborated on sunscreen in the bullet points already so let’s go to body building. get into a workout regimen 3-4 times a week. i’ll share some workouts here depending on what u want. 

the important thing is that you start NOW so that then by the time it’s summer your gains will be visible and you’ll feel stronger and more confident -> therefore more happy and prepped for ur hot girl summer. 

use body scrubs to exfoliate skin and also promote optimal softness bcuz in the summer it’ll be hot and you might wanna show some skin 

WARDROBE ; 

get onto ur pinterest and start looking for inspo for your summer wardrobe that coincides with ur personal style. use ur fashion binder if u have one to start formulating and thinking of outfits. 

create a list of specific pieces that ur looking for (with photos if u can) so that when ur shopping/thrifting u know to get what u want for summer. 

the important things for summer from my own fashion binder are bikinis, camisoles and mini skirts + shorts. bcuz i wrote that in my fashion binder i’ll look for and buy those specific clothing pieces for my summer wardrobe. do the same ✨

COMPANY ; 

it’s more fun when u spend some parts of ur summer with quality company so make sure to prepare that NOW so that then ur plans go smoothly in the summertime. 

make sure to have a list of things/activities that u wanna do this summer either alone or with company. and make plans according to that bcuz ur not about to be cooped up all summer, unless thats what u want ig.

now is the time to test the waters and propose ideas with ur friends about what u guys should do together this summer. maybe it’s simply hanging out, or going on a sort of vacation together. 

whatever it is, make sure that ur company is not only reliable/responsible but also that they have ur best interest at heart bcuz it’s gonna be hot girl summer and everyone’s gonna be out there 😭 u need someone to have ur back and someone that you can trust. 

THE INSPO/MOOD ;

skin is so glossy and smooth it almost looks wet. warm beaches and fruit platters. swimming like EVERYDAY, cruises and shopping sprees and vacations. dinners with ur girls, summer romances. natural yet so ethereal.

SUMMER FASHION LINK ;

i've already made a post that talked about summer wardrobe essentials and its linked right here. but the gist is that summer is all about vibrant colors and skin and shimmer.

PLAYLIST ;

for a proper hot girl summer u absolutely MUST have a proper hot girl summer playlist. the top songs on my summer playlist are jump by tyla, and the 250 remix of attention by newjeans. make sure that u formulate a couple playlists for summer because the music is what makes the season.

PRODUCTS AND ESSENTIALS ;

for the summertime i gravitate towards products that are more tropical and fruity which is a juxtaposition to what i usually smell like. cuz im a vanilla cupcake/strawberry poundcake scented girlie. but in the summer i kind of like to smell like a refreshing cocktail instead.

body shimmer

moisturizing lip oils

cute claw clips

mini fan that u can take in ur purse

thick body butters

a swimsuit on hand

some products that i recommend to achieve that scent are the bronzed coconut products from victorias secret pink, along with strawberry and champagne and fruit crush. the ulta beauty smoothie shower gels r also rly good. lastly bodycology has some great summer scents.

last but not least i rly hope that u guys prioritize having fun this summer and being the embodiment of beauty and confidence that GLOWS. stay safe and have an amazing hot girl summer ✨

[kneesofpoultry]

So, ages ago, I saw (as I'm sure a lot of us did) THIS post about the Middle Eastern, men-only cover of The Sims 2. I kind of thought it was a hoax, mostly due to the crazy high price tag and the fact that I'd genuinely never heard of it before. But a couple of replies on that original post had owned that copy or seen it before.

Anyway, a few weeks ago I'm searching through ebay for the thick Sims 2 expansion pack cases when I find a listing from the UK for around $70AUD, with three expansion packs and, the best part, a version of The Sims 2 base game with the all male cover! I'm happy to say it wasn't a scam and it arrived today, photos below.

More photos and comparisons under the cut:

Left is the all-men cover(a 2009 copy according to the box), right is an Australian version (2006). I think my favourite part about this difference is how the guy in a brown shirt on the very left is the same in both copies, he just doesn't have the woman with him anymore.

(When I say "Australian Copy", I mean sold in Australia. I'm about 90% sure most copies of the sims 2 have either this cover, or the later produced cover with additional sims, such as an alien and a man in black, on it)

The back of the cases, left being the all-men cover, right being the Australian 2006 copy. There are more differences here, notably almost all of the women are gone except for the scientist lady in the top right. The sim in Create-A-Sim is a man on the Middle Eastern copy, the children in the top left are different. The poolside hang out on the 2006 copy had women in bikinis in it, but the Middle Eastern copy instead has a photo of men reacting to a kitchen fire. The women in the centre are gone (once again leaving brown-shirt guy maidenless) and replaced with a butler, a feature that isn't even present in the sims 2 base game. Both the image of the villa and the Grim Reaper have been removed from the Middle Eastern copy.

Inside of both cases. Interestingly, the Middle Eastern copy (bottom) has women on the disc, but the top 2006 copy is just a plain blue disc. I haven't read the manuals to compare them extensively but both seem to have the same information, just in a slightly different order. The Middle Eastern manual is thicker as it has both an English section and an Arabic section.

I won't be able to install this base version onto my pc due to catchment, but if you did play this version please let me know if there were any differences! Thank you for reading along with me, I hope you found this as interesting as I did.

[unowneyenon]

I saw a post on here back a little while ago claiming that Stanford built the shack in Bill’s image when they knew each other (or something like that!) and that’s why there are so many triangle & pyramid motifs built into the shack. I think that idea’s really interesting, but there’s one problem; it’s impossible based on the journal three timeline.

according to this timeline in journal three, ford came to gravity falls in 1975, a good 6 years before he first met bill. so, using his grant money, he built the shack and all of the triangle and pyramid things inside…for some reason. why?????

ok so hear me out if it’s IMPOSSIBLE for ford to have known bill when the shack was built, maybe ford somehow knew him in a…subconscious way?? the image above is from TBOB, and it seems like from a young age ford was already interested in yellow floating triangles; and while this could totally just be foreshadowing, what if it implies some kind of …fate-related thing? something something ford was just MEANT to meet bill by some predetermined twisted fate created by the universe & that fate of them meeting was also subconsciously the thing that made ford research all that is strange & weird, thus making him end up in gravity falls???? i’m not sure how to put this into words! but just based on the shack triangle stuff and the photo, there’s just something there that screams that bill was and always has been subconsciously in ford’s thoughts and they were always meant to meet in this universe for better or for worse (it’s for worse)???????

edit: hey it’s five am and it has now come to my attention that he could have probably just remodeled/somehow made his own stained glass windows & such, BUUUT it’s still a personal theory that there is some kind of fate thing going on with ford and bill, & REALLY holding onto that theory with how ford was mesmerized by that kind of stuff at straight up infancy….hmmm time for bed for me

[skyewritesstuff]

greedy | p. mellark

my masterlist.

summary: after months of being in what you think is a situationship with peeta, you finally confront him about whether or not there's anything truly there or if you're just another girl who has fallen for his kindness and misinterpreted the signs.

pairing: peeta mellark x reader (college!au, fratboy!peeta if you squint)

fandom: the hunger games

warnings: nothing too serious. implied nsfw at the end. afab reader. sorta ooc peeta...it's mostly environmental because we all know peeta's a flirt.

notes: based on greedy by tate mcrae even though the verse at the end gives me everlark vibes. also, this has been beta read. :)

word count: 2.8k

He’s here. Are you coming?

You looked at the blue and gray text thread, Clove’s name, and contact picture with a little clover emoji sitting right on top of it. A sigh escaped you as you looked up from your phone at the fraternity house that was positioned in front of you. You’d been leaning against the fencing that surrounded the yard for what felt like an hour, but in reality, it’d only been a few minutes.

As of late, facing Peeta Mellark has always been an unpredictable situation. While he was kind, polite, and charismatic, that charisma oftentimes led to him getting entangled metaphorically (at least you hoped) with other girls. You couldn’t tell if he didn’t know how to say no, was weighing out his options, or if he was what Clove often referred to as a “fuckboy”. 

Fuck it. You rolled your eyes, stuffed your phone into your jacket pocket, and made your way across the cement walkway leading to the house. Having second thoughts, you pulled your phone back out, pulling up the same conversation with Clove.

Is she here?

The person you were speaking of was none other than Katniss Everdeen. She was the most recent girl that Peeta had been hanging around with and was simultaneously the cause of your latest installment of confusion. According to some of your other friends, she’d been friends with Peeta for a while and the study date you ran up on in the library was nothing but a platonic catch-up amongst busy friends.

However, one Madge Undersee had more than the opposite to say. All it took was one group mirror shot in the bathroom at a nightclub posted on Instagram, featuring you and Peeta in the outskirts of the photo, his arm wrapped securely around your waist, for her to send you a heated DM saying that he and Katniss had been a thing for forever and that you were coming between them.

You very quickly sent back, “Funny how the alleged ‘other girl’ always gets shit while the dude gets to slide by.” with a sarcastically placed upside-down smiley that was left on read still to this day.

A typing bubble appeared in Clove’s thread.

I don’t think so!

You let out another sigh, relieved that for now, Katniss wasn’t a worry. You walked into the house, looking around. There was a cloud of smoke in the air, presumably from various substances and/or a smoke machine, and bright lights coming from various directions. You squinted, trying to make out anyone you knew, but specifically trying to find Clove.

“Hey!” The greeting was slurred, long, and drawn out as an arm was all but dropped onto your shoulders. Finnick Odair was standing beside you, laughing at what appeared to be nothing. Finnick was a grad student that you’d met while waiting in line for coffee, quickly discovering that you two had mutual connections.

“Y/N…Y/N…you look…beautiful, stunning, ravishing…Have you seen Annie?” 

You chuckled at how rapidly his thought process changed. “Nope, I just got here! Maybe try calling her?”

“Ha,” he let out, “I don’t…I don’t know her number…”

“But she should be in your… never mind, you’ll find her I’m sure.” you grinned, shaking your head.

“Alright, sweet!” Finnick started to walk away, but then quickly turned on his heel back to you, pointing in your direction.

“Almost forgot…Peeta’s looking for you!”

“What?”

The question was ignored as he walked away, approaching another male at the party the same way he’d approached you. Peeta was looking for you? Was he serious or just on another planet from the amount of alcohol in his system?

You kept maneuvering through the crowd, trying to locate the kitchen, knowing that’s where most of the snacks and drinks were. The kitchen also usually served as a good place to wait around if you were looking for someone. 

You pulled out your phone, shooting a text to Clove to meet you in the kitchen. You stared down at the screen, hoping for a speech bubble to pop up saying she was either on her way or giving you simple directions to wherever she was located. You then felt yourself collide with someone in a way that wasn’t painful, but most definitely was going to lead to an awkward exchange.

“Oh shit…I’m so sorry…”

You were met with blonde hair and a black hoodie and then a beautiful set of oh-too-familiar blue eyes.

“Don’t be!” Peeta smiled, “I was looking for you! I sent out Finnick to look for you and everything.”

You rolled your eyes with a smirk, “Well, you might want to find someone sober enough to complete the mission next time, just saying.”

“You are probably absolutely correct…but it’s fine. Why send someone else when it’s something you can do on your own way better, right?” he smiled, leaning on the wall, taking a sip from his cup, “Do you want something to drink?”

“What is that?” you gestured to the cup, raising a curious yet somewhat fearful eyebrow.

Peeta shrugged, “I think it’s some kind of jungle juice. The base has to be Hawaiian Punch because of the color if that helps.” He extended the cup towards you, “Want to see for yourself?”

You nodded and took the cup, taking a sip. It was definitely Hawaiian Punch, and it wasn’t as strong as you thought it would be, which could either be a help or a hindrance. 

“Pretty good, right?” he asked. You nodded in response, handing the cup back to him. “Do you want me to get you some of that…or I can try to mix you something myself?”

“Whatever that is, that’s fine.” you answered, following him over to a large orange Gatorade dispenser that had the word “NOT” written on a piece of tape, stuck above the label. You chuckled under your breath as you watched the blonde grab a cup, scoop out some ice, and then fill the drink. As he did this, you took the time to take in his appearance as your brain had been busy keeping up with the conversation instead of taking a good look at him.

He was in a black hoodie with a small logo on the chest; his blonde hair falling into his face a little. He also was wearing gray joggers with his university lanyard sticking out of the pocket, falling onto his leg with a pair of somewhat beaten-up sneakers. Despite his relaxed appearance, he looked put together. He looked good.

Peeta turned back to you, handing you the cup, which you took with a smile. “Do you wanna go somewhere quieter?” he asked, gesturing to the surroundings before refilling his cup.

Your stomach turned with nerves. He probably just meant to talk, but what if he didn't? You knew for a fact that your bra and underwear were not fancy, nor did they match, and you probably had the lowest body count in your friend group. You took a hard swallow.

“...To talk…” Peeta laughed, his tone sounding a little nervous as he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and took a sip from his cup. The lights well-hid the red flush on his face.

“Oh…okay, yeah!” you laughed back, watching as he extended his hand. You took his hand, noticing how he immediately laced your fingers together as he walked you through the main hallway that you’d just walked through and up the stairs. 

Someone at a distance must’ve seen you both making your way upstairs, because someone wolf-whistled and then called Peeta’s name, causing him to sharply turn over his shoulder to try and identify the person. He quickly stuck his middle finger up at no one in particular, given the culprit was never identified, and then sped up a little as you both got up to the top of the stairs.

“I'm sorry. People are dumb and make ridiculous assumptions…like I’m really not trying to…”

“Peeta, it’s okay.” you reassured him, “If Clove had seen me, she probably would’ve been ten times worse and reminded me of one of her ridiculous tips to supposedly eliminate your gag reflex that she learned on TikTok.”

Peeta somewhat choked on the sip of his drink that he was taking, laughing at your comment, “Who said you couldn’t learn something off of the internet.”

He led you down a shorter hallway to a door. He knocked twice before opening it, finding it just as he must’ve left it, as you quickly put two-and-two together that this was his room. He shut and locked the door behind him, took another sip from his drink, and sat it on his bedside table before flopping on the bed as you leaned against the wall.

You took a big sip of your drink, hoping the alcohol kicked in sooner rather than later to get some control of the nerves that were bubbling up across your entire body. You watched as the blonde turned on his side and looked over at you.

“I'm not gonna bite, sweetheart…unless you’re into that.” 

You couldn’t refrain from rolling your eyes at his cheesy line before you walked over to sit your drink next to his. Then, you removed your jacket, hanging it from his footrest. Before you could even turn your attention back to him, you could feel his eyes on you. It was like he was bearing a hole into the exposed skin on your back that was left uncovered from your dress now that your denim jacket had been discarded.

When you turned back around, he rolled onto his back with his hands behind his head, smiling up at you. “You’re gorgeous.” 

It was spoken so matter-of-factly as if he was telling you the most basic of observations…as if it were obvious to anyone who looked at you. You could feel your chest swell slightly at his words. Your instinct was going to be to tell him to stop or to refute what he said, but you took a breath and let out a small, “Thank you” in response as you sat on the edge of his bed and then slowly inched your way back onto the bed, laying next to him.

The room was silent, aside from the bumping music that was playing behind the door and down the stairs, and your eyes were fixed on the ceiling fan, watching it spin to avoid meeting Peeta’s eyes, fearing the burning blush that would overtake your body if you did.

“What are you thinking about?” he asked, breaking that silence.

“Nothing…” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the full truth either. You weren’t giving your full thought process to anything. Instead, your brain was in several places at once. You’d thought about the makeup tutorial you’d seen earlier set to the song that was playing downstairs. You’d thought about how close Peeta was to you. You’d also thought about Katniss and Peeta’s study “date” from a while back too.

“Baby, if something’s bothering you, you can tell me.” he said. You finally glanced over at him. He was on his side, facing you, leaning against one hand while the other played with his hoodie string.

Baby.

Before you could stop yourself, the bigger question tumbled out of your lips, “What’s up with you?”

His features scrunched together in confusion, “What do you mean?”

“You take me on dates. You kiss me. You hold my hand. You call me baby.” you paused, “But then, I see you at the library with Katniss Everdeen and I have one of her stupid little friends in my DMs accusing me of being a homewrecker because you have your arm around me in a photo I didn’t even post…and I’ve seen you talking to other girls too, Peeta. You do the same thing, leaning against the wall, standing close to them. You’re smiling and laughing and the girl is playing with her hair and laughing back at you. What is all of that? Am I just the one you know will answer your random texts and calls to hang out…go to the club… make out in your car? Am I some weird escape from reality like…who…”

You were quickly silenced by his lips on yours, one hand coming up to your cheek, pulling you in closer to him. It was almost second nature at this point and your body quickly betrayed you despite your frustrations and melted into the kiss as it deepened, your hand coming to rest on his ribcage, progressively snaking onto his back and then upwards into his blonde locks as he moved over top of you.

The motion of him nudging your leg with his knee so he could position himself knocked you back into reality like a harsh slap to the face. You put both hands onto his chest and applied just enough pressure to jerk him back into the present as well. He looked confused. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and his lips were slightly swollen.

“Did I do something?” 

You propped yourself up, causing him to move, rolling back onto his back, his arm dropping across his chest as he rather obviously tried to cool himself down. You sat up, looking down at Peeta, whose eyes met yours.

“You never answered my question.”

“Yes, I did.” He looked at you like you’d missed the most obvious sign in the universe, but you already knew he meant the kiss, and that was not the answer you were looking for.

You shook your head, “A kiss isn’t an answer. If anything, it just proves my point. I don’t understand you. You clearly, in some way, want me. So, what is it? Are you just playing the field…fucking a bunch of random girls…Are you in love with Katniss still?”

“Katniss?” Peeta looked like you’d slapped him clean across his handsome face.

“Yes, Katniss…” You repeated, glancing from him to the door, wondering if it’d just be better to get up and go home. You knew fully well that he’d follow you. There was no getting out of this.

“I get it. You’re hot. You’re nice. I genuinely don’t think you’d try to intentionally hurt anyone, but…”

“That’s it, right there.” He pointed toward you as you spoke, “You talk about me and my mixed signals…what is that? You go from basically saying I’m some piece of shit heartbreaker to saying I’d never hurt anyone. You do that a lot. You’ll go from dancing with me and kissing me…letting me hold you while you’re sleeping to acting completely disinterested in anything outside of a friendship. I’ve never dealt with anything like this before. Girls are usually pretty forward with me…regardless of whether I feel the same or not. I don’t know if it’s intentional…like you think it’ll make me want you more or what, but it’s driving me crazy. Other girls may want me...I don't know for sure, but I know for sure that I want you, not them. I’m trying my best to show you that…but you just keep pushing me away and I wish you’d stop.”

Your eyes dropped to the floor, suddenly hyper-aware of a scuff on the toe of your boots. Your heart pounded as you tried to process what he’d said. He was usually so confident and sure in his abilities to keep sucking you back in, but the wavering tones in his voice indicated otherwise. He was serious.

You turned back to him, “I…I like you a lot…a lot more than just a friend…which is why seeing you with those other girls drove me fucking insane. I want you and for you to only want me. I don’t want to just be some kind of convenience for you. I’m either your girlfriend or nothing at all.”

His lips curved into a smile as your arms crossed over your chest, waiting for a response from the blonde. Peeta sat up and moved in closer to you, his forehead resting against yours, lips inches from your own.

“As you wish, girlfriend.”

His lips were on yours as soon as the title was spoken, moving slowly and sensually. His hand came to your waist as you fell back onto the bed, pulling him down with you as you finally let him move over top of you. The kisses grew needier and more passionate as your hands moved to the hem of his hoodie, pulling it and his white undershirt over his head and allowing for him to toss them behind him.

The articles of clothing caught your jacket, bringing it to the floor as well. Your phone slid out of the pocket as it vibrated, going completely unnoticed next to the clothing.

Where are you?

Hello?

Oh my god, Cato just said he saw you going upstairs with Peeta. Good luck. ;) Remember what I told you about spelling your name. Trust me, works every single time.

[sanakiras]

LIAR, LIAR! [TEASER]

PAIRING — kim mingyu x reader

WORD COUNT — 1.4k (full fic will be 20k+)

RELEASE DATE — TBA, will probably take a while!

SYNOPSIS — in a dramatic turn of events, a rich businessman is found dead in his lavish estate, and the authorities believe it was no accident. as the detectives dig deeper, they ultimately end up with two key suspects: you, the businessman’s very own daughter, and your sworn enemy, kim mingyu. as the time progresses, tensions rise and secrets spill — and the truth has the power to either bring you closer together or tear you apart.

TAGS — murder mystery, rich rivals to partners in crime to lovers, whole lotta plot, dark comedy if u ask me, explicit sexual content, somewhat graphic depictions of death, everyone and everything is dysfunctional™, mentions of suicide, moral compass is nowhere to be found, angst

♪ aquartos - crystal city,, verydeadly - wolves (kanye west cover),, blue foundation - eyes on fire (4 ave version),, low - dancing and blood,, vessel - red sex

NOTE — one of my favorite episodes of going seventeen remains bad clue 2020, i loved mingyu’s role in it and i could totally see him portraying darker/morally grey characters and rock tf out of it so. i wrote this solely based on that idea. enjoy :D

i. TWO WEEKS SINCE THE MURDER

the interrogation room is unnecessarily bright, the noise of the water dispenser in the corner and the flickering led light above you running through your ears. the chair you’re seated on is uncomfortable, though it’s nothing compared to the tension you feel as the man in front of you treats you like you’re guilty of something.

“on september 2nd, sometime around six o’clock, your father reportedly got unwell, so he left his office early, choosing to do the rest of his paperwork at home. according to the information we got from the gps tracker in his car, he went straight home, took no detours. he arrived at your family estate thirty minutes later. then at eight o’clock, the police received a call from you, saying your father’s hung himself.”

you stare at the the inspector whose name you did not bother remembering before waving with your hand. “i’m aware. i’ve heard the recap of events many times at this point. this isn’t the first time i’m being interrogated, surprisingly enough.”

with a puzzled look, he raises his brow at you. “you don’t think you should be a suspect?”

“no, i don’t.”

“at the time of the incident, you were home, as well as two members of the staff. since the staff were on their dinner break and you were apparently in your room, it’s hard to say what happened, since there were no witnesses.”

“do you mind me asking why you think it’s murder and not just a suicide?”

he’s intrigued by the way you discuss the topic so casually. “your father was an important man. wouldn’t you want to know who killed him if that is the case?”

“sure. i’d thank them.” you smile at him, the hatred for your father shining through. “believe me, inspector — my father was a miserable man who surrounded himself with other miserable people. i wasn’t there by choice.”

“did he treat you badly, then?” he continues, trying to pry any information out of you.

you can only sigh. “i was his daughter by blood only. that’s all.”

with your demeanor softening into something sadder, the inspector’s tone changes into something different. “aside from you, and the staff, of course, we do have another suspect who we think could have something to do with your father’s death.”

that sparks your interest. “who?”

the inspector grabs his small pile of documents to pull a printed photo out of it, putting it before you. you visibly frown, because the person on the photo is someone you’re unfortunately awfully familiar with.

“kim mingyu is a suspect? seriously?” you ask, completely in shock. ironically, he’s the last person you’d suspect in a scenario like the one you currently find yourself in.

“what can you tell me about him?”

“he’s a year younger than me. we went to the same high school, same university, have some of the same friends. though all of that is relatively common in our social circle.”

“anything else?”

keeping the insults to yourself for now, you press your lips together. “our parents are good friends. well, were, now that my father’s gone. mingyu and i hate eachother to the bone, though.”

“any particular reason why?”

“i’m not sure where it started… there’s just something off about him. it’s always been there. he’s—beyond arrogant. always showing off his looks, his wealth, his charm, his intelligence. everything. he insults me, i insult him. we simply don’t get along, never have. nothing you haven’t seen before, i’m sure.”

the inspector raises his brow. “i think you may have left something out.”

“such as?”

his hand moves into the blue folder sitting on the table, taking another photo out of it, holding it up before you. “your father was often spotted with him. at events, business meetings — you name it. matter of fact, your father seemed to be accompanied by kim mingyu more than anyone else. which is interesting, considering you are his only child.”

your gaze turns sour, voice softer yet more hateful than before. “don’t tell me this is the reason i’m a suspect.”

“let’s just say it doesn’t make you look good.”

“you really believe i murdered my own father in cold blood because he cared more about kim mingyu than he ever did about me? that’s pathetic and ridiculous.”

“you wouldn’t be the first. it’s a plausible story.”

scoffing at the accusation, you shake your head. “we’re done here. the moment you have an actual lead, i’ll talk, but not like this. i’m still here grieving and you’re accusing me of being the culprit.” you get up in anger, taking your bag with you before slamming the door shut, not bothering to listen to what the man is trying to tell you to make you stay.

this whole shit-train started two weeks ago. your father was found dead in your childhood home, hung by a rope around his neck. instead of calling it a death by suicide, the police apparently have enough reason to suspect it was a homicide.

you’ve been questioned several times in the past few weeks, but there’s been a gradual shift in the behavior of the inspector and his handimen — they’re treating you like a suspect now.

which you are, for whatever reason. they have yet to come up with any actual evidence.

your contact in the police force mentioned to you that you’re not just any suspect — you’re one of the two main suspects.

and that is unsettling, especially when you discovered who else is.

as you go down the hall, you suddenly lock eyes with kim mingyu himself, who’s leaning against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his trousers. a few strands of hair hover by his cheeks, framing his strong features.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” you ask in a rather hostile manner, the scowl on your face deepening.

his lips part before he starts explaining. “they wanted to talk to me. again.”

“haven’t you heard the rumors, gyu?” you mockingly use the nickname, taking a step closer to him, “they’re saying there’s a possibility you killed him.”

your arch-nemesis looks back at you with a furrowed brow. “that’s ridiculous.”

“is it? you were always with him… it’s perhaps the only thing that makes sense in all of this.”

he seems offended you’d even insinuate something like that. “it’s really the other way around, though. you’re the one who hated him. i had nothing against the man.”

it’s true that you and your father didn’t exactly get along, especially the past few years, to put it lightly. you always considered him to be greedy, cold and unforgiving, and you certainly didn’t cry the moment they told you he had passed away.

“no, we all know how much you liked him,” you hardly make an effort to hide your disdain, “but they must not believe that, considering you’re just as much of a suspect as i am.”

he clenches his jaw. “i’m not guilty.”

“neither am i.”

it’s quiet for a moment as you’re both unsure of what to say next, a rarity between you.

a few years ago, your father mentioned you and mingyu could make a good pair. you proceeded to laugh in his face.

mingyu is a constant reminder of what you could be, and that’s the last thing you need in your life.

“if i find out you’re somehow involved in this—”

instead of immediately refuting the statement, he narrows his eyes at you. “then what?”

you realize you need to be careful with your words here — you can’t throw around threats to kill people as the top suspect in a murder investigation. “i’ll make sure you pay for it. they might buy your little golden-boy act, but i sure as shit don’t. i never have.”

a smirk subtly tugs at his lips as he leans more down, eyes flicking lower before they meet yours again. “i’d be careful with my words if i were you,” he firmly tells you, his lashes fluttering, “there’s always someone watching.”

only now do you take notice of how close you’re standing to him, and you look behind you, seeing the inspector that just interrogated you observing you and mingyu from a distance.

so you push yourself away from him, giving him a last glare before walking away.

mingyu’s eyes remain on you until you move past the corner. he only moves from his spot once you’re gone from his field of view, greeting the inspector with a kind smile.

if you’d like to be tagged in this once it’s released, leave a comment! <3

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

Love and Deepspace 2.0 Live Overview

Okay so the live ended about 20 minutes ago and I watched (and recorded) the entire thing! We have confirmation that this will be released on July 15...so we have a little over a week! So here's the biggest highlights of the live...however first the new codes!

DEEPSPACE2 - 200 Diamonds, 20,000 Gold, 200 Energy

20240715 - 10 Empyrean Wishes

Portrait Mode

We're getting a new photo mode over in the Photobooth! Portrait Mode will be featuring:

Ability to move the camera around out characters. We can finally have more angles and full body shots.

We can move the posed characters around the screen so they're not right next to one another. This means we get to make cute little scenes guys and I am so hyped over this one.

Dynamic lighting and clothes! Not only can we choose were the light source in the photo is as well as the tones of it, we also have clothes that move with the wind directions that we can choose from!

More backgrounds, and from the looks of it the backgrounds will also be dynamic and move!

Premade photo templates will be available in case you're not super creative or good with photo booth modes, and we can also make our own templates to use later.

Abyssal Chaos

We're going to be getting an entirely new mode over in the "battle" section and oh boy does this one look super interesting (and a little complex to explain for me). This is word for word how the kitties explained the premises of it:

"The Abyssal Chaos is a site hidden in the corners of the internet, it focuses on selling information and commissioning bounties. It's the most secretive and anonymous trading platform on the dark web right now!"

Selectable Companions - So unlike the other battle modes where we pick and choose from several of our cards, we choose one of the companions we have available to go through the battles with. Memories in the Abyssal Chaos will use virtual data so the companions will be Level 80. You'll also only be able to choose one companions per period to team up with, as well as the weapon for these trials.

Wontony - The Admin AI the Abyssal Chaos features that gives us these commissions. It'll show us the algorithms and maps to complete the commission.

Gameplay - This mode seems to have more than just combat in it. There will be a series of events and obstacles for the hunters to go through with their companions. From the looks of it there are mazes and memory games, but who knows what else we're going to be getting. These will most likely just work as mini games, in the preview it shows Zayne in a box after getting trapped and our hunter having to run to little boxes on the ground in a certain order for a memory game to free him.

Randomly Generated Nodes - Ya, you saw right...it's going to have randomly generated settings so we're going to be going through different things every single time we play (hopefully). Even the maps are randomly generated it seems. There's also three nodes (similar to branches that we're used to seeing in choice based games) that leads to different outcomes. It's a rougelike gameplay mode where after you make a decision you can't go back during that run, you live with the choices and consequences.

Node Refresh - When you complete the current node according to the map, the system will randomly refresh a few branching nodes and give you new options. They also correspond to different follow up missions. The situation will be different for every option you make. Which means who freaking knows what's going to happen during your playthrough.

Chats with Characters - From what you can see in the video itself, it looks like during these missions you'll have little pop up chat windows where our companions will be speaking with us. If we're lucky it might give us some lore, but most likely it'll just be random conversations about the Abyssal Chaos and possibly their suggestions on how to go about it?

Deduction - I'm not entirely sure about this one but I think the "deduction" is the space in between the battles were you chat with characters, get enhancement items, and choose which node to go to next.

Mission Rewards (Codes) - After completing a mission we'll be getting 'codes' which are basically just item enhancements that (from the looks of it) we get to keep. Looks like they're separated in categories as well: HP, Dodge, Summon, Shield, Negative, Combo, Charged, Active. There's also exclusive ones for your companions as well. There's a total of 9 types of codes right now. If it's all confusing then thankfully Wontony will be willing to tell you which codes he'd recommend you use.

Enhance Codes - As you work your way through this mode you'll be getting Enhance Codes and Special Items in order to enhance the power of your team. Since the characters will default to Level 80 these will be important since it's set levels. Aka it's all catered towards based 80 characters so we need these items if we want to stand a chance getting through these. Of course they're randomly given though so they can either be useless or super helpful. From what they're implying these items are only good for that round in the Abyss Chaos and the next playthrough you do you'll be starting from scratch, giving the mode more playability!

Combo Codes - It looks like by mixing and matching the codes you put on your companions you can unlock even more combos and just overall cool combat specials with your companions! We're going to be getting a major boost in power if we're allowed to move these codes over to Deepspace Trials, however from what I saw it's not 100% confirmed if we will be able to, or if codes are exclusive for Abyssal Chaos' Battle Mode.

Chaos Keys - This is like currency during the mode were you can buy or enhance your codes to help progress through the current deduction you're going through.

Factors - After each deduction you'll be getting things known as factors. There's general factors and companion factors. General Factors will increase the power of your team, while Companion Factors will strengthen just your companion's ability to fight in the Abyssal Chaos.

Reward Exchange - After completing deductions we'll earn points which can be exchanged for a lot of diamonds. Which means we might have another method of farming for diamonds before events, which is a very good thing judging by how the banners are increasing how many pulls you need to do in order to get a guarantee of the card you want (our last event was a whopping 200 Pulls for a reward box).

Sylus Available - Looks like from the start we'll also be able to use Sylus as a companion. He appeared in the exclusive category of the code section.

Sylus + Game Updates

As we all know, Sylus was revealed earlier in June, and went against the wishes of the team for Love and Deepspace. At the end of their livestream they went into detail about the regrets they had since today's livestream was supposed to be his introduction, and how such a reveal was stolen from us as an audience from people leaking information. However I personally think that in today's livestream they will did an amazing job in showcasing Sylus. They gave him a video and song to go with it, and it was honestly amazing. Not to mention we heard his voice for the first time (okay I know there were leaks on that too but still)

Sylus has still been officially revealed to us! After the update on July 15'th he's going to be unlocked as a roman cable candidate which means all the normal interactions will be available! Which means we get to have Sylus get us plushies and poke in Destiny Cafe! From what we're seeing he's not a totally evil guy (one of the livestream kitties mentioned seeing him on a roof and was picked up by his scruff. Sylus jumped off the building then gently places him on the ground. What a sweetie).

Now with Sylus' release here's what we have Story Wise:

New Story Chapter - Long Awaited Revelry will be unlocked soon

Main Story Branches - From September to December we'll be having main story branches for our love interests! Looks like those who said we'd have branching storylines for the boys were correct. So strap in and see how MC is gonna be when actually romancing these men in each of their branches (damn can't have a polyamorous relationship with all these boys RIP). Hopefully this will make the cards and memories easier to understand because main story MC barely knows these men, but all of us are seeing memories of MC tossing them on beds and tables. So we finally get to see how we got to that point.

Free Cards - After the update there will obviously be an event. In that we will be getting a 5-Star Memory of Sylus, as well as a 4-Star memory...for free. During the event we'll also be able to get about 20 Empyrean Wish Tickets, so if you pair that up with the free code, we're getting about 30 free wish tickets to help us collect cards on Sylus! There will also be a log in event for another 4-Star memory of Sylus so make sure you log in for those 10 days.

New Outfits: Do you guys recall those cards that we all looked at like "Where tf are these outfits?" You know, the one where Zayne is staring sexily on a chair, or Rafayel in that suit with like petals around him? Those outfits? Ya we get those during the events...for free!

5-Star Memory Event for Rafayel - We'll be getting a new 5-Star Card for Rafayel at the end of July, Heartfelt Gift, will be available as well as apparently another free 5-Star card for Raffie (or maybe the Heartfelt Gift Card is the free, their wording in the stream was a bit confusing). During the event we get a 10 pulls, 2,000 diamonds, and tons of materials for free.

Wish Update: We're getting an update on the normal wishes. We'll be able to choose 3 of the 5-Star cards in the wish pool to get a rate up boost for them (so we can finally start getting 5-star memories we don't have easier). You can also change the three cards at any time you wish.

Illusio: A new feature called Illusio will be available for kindled memories for a limited time (July 15th - July 31st). You can select different outfits for the characters the click the kindled version of a 5-star memory to see them in that particular outfit (and I am expecting all you guys who have the towel outfits to record ever kindled memory with them wearing it. I ain't playin frfr).

There will also of course be new events popping up in the series, one of them being over in August that's being called "Embroidered Silk Ball". So we have so much content coming our way with the 2.0 version!

Well I think that about covers it all! We have a lot of funs tuff happening in L&DS and I can't wait to see it all! I do apologize for any typos, I wrote this before going to work as fast as I could!

[lockburn-castle]

the city of love

synopsis in which dokyeom proposes to yn in Paris pairing nonidol!lee dokyeom x gn!reader genre fluff warnings dk being anxious, a small part about cabarets, terms of endearment/petnames, kisses, reader wears a dress, that's all i can think of (do let me know if theres more) word count 1.9k

playlist cant help falling in love marry you

notes: been loving romcoms for a while and decided to write this story based on what id like my proposal to look like HAHAHA hope yall like it !! p.s. 10 things i hate about you is one of my favourites <3 do give me more ideas for fics in the cmmts or send me an ask !!

As Dokyeom paced around the room, his mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts. The suitcase in front of him was half-packed, clothes neatly folded, but his thoughts were anything but organized. The idea of proposing to you filled him with both excitement and anxiety. He glanced at the bag of balloons he’d slipped into his luggage, a reminder of the grand plan he had meticulously crafted for a few months now.

“What if they don’t say yes, hyung?” Dokyeom fretted, pacing around their room as he packed for the trip with Y/N. His phone was on speaker, and he were calling the group for some last-minute advice.

“Have you seen the way they look at you?” Seungkwan’s voice came through, trying to sound reassuring. “I’m pretty sure they’ll say yes.”

“If they say no, can I steal them from you?” Dino joked with a laugh. “They make amazing cookies.”

“Not helping,” Dokyeom mumbled, nervously folding another shirt into their suitcase.

Dokyeom's fingers brushed the edge of the velvet ring box, its weight a tangible symbol of his hopes and fears. “I just hope everything goes smoothly. What if all this effort is for nothing? They might leave me.”

“Don’t worry about all of that,” Jeonghan advised gently. “Remember to have fun. Trust the plan. Everything will fall into place if it’s meant to be.”

“And don’t forget to pack the ring,” S.Coups chimed in with a grin that Dokyeom could practically hear.

Dokyeom took a deep breath, nodding even though no one could see him. “Alright, I think I’m all packed. Let’s hope everything goes according to plan.” He muttered the last part.

Everything had gone surprisingly well so far. You and Dokyeom had talked about this trip to Paris for years, but something always got in the way. Now, finally, both of you were able to take a seven-day leave and make it happen. The city felt like something out of a dream — timeless, and full of hidden wonders.

On the first day, after landing in Paris, you both felt the excitement settle in as you headed straight to the Louvre. The enormous layout of the museum took your breath away as you went inside, surrounded by art from all around the world. Walking hand in hand, you wove through the maze of halls, pausing at famous works like the Mona Lisa and Winged Victory of Samothrace.

When you reached the sculpture Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss, you both stood in awe. The way the marble figures intertwined seemed almost too lifelike, as if they were frozen in a moment of affection. You couldn’t help but admire the way the light bounced off the smooth stone, highlighting every detail. Dokyeom’s arm hugged your waist as you both took in the beauty and history surrounding you.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” You whispered, eyes fixed on the sculpture.

Dokyeom nodded, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah, but you know what’s even more beautiful?” He turned to look at you, his smile widening.

You rolled your eyes playfully, nudging him gently. “You’re such a cheeseball.”

“I mean it, though,” he chuckled, squeezing your hand. “I still can’t believe we’re here. Together.”

In that moment, surrounded by art and history, everything felt perfectly right.

You spent more time at the Louvre than planned, snapping tons of photos for Instagram and for your own memories.

On the second day, you and Dokyeom decided to explore the Montmartre, starting with the stunning Sacré-Cœur Basilica. The white domes stood out against the sky, offering an amazing view of Paris below. Inside, the intricate mosaics shimmered in the light, creating a serene atmosphere as you took in the stunning architecture.

After leaving the Basilica, you strolled through the nearby Place du Tertre, a lively square filled with the buzz of street artists and their easels. You and Dokyeom sat down to get your portraits done, soaking in the lively atmosphere. The atmosphere was vibrant, with the sounds of sketching, laughter, and conversations blending together into a perfect Montmartre experience.

After a delicious lunch at a little café, you both headed to the Musée d'Orsay. There, you found yourself captivated by masterpieces from artists like Van Gogh and Monet. Each painting seemed to pull you into its world, and the museum’s elegant interior only enhanced the experience. The two of you wandered through the halls, taking in every detail of the beautiful works of art.

As evening approached, your excitement began to build. You were about to experience the legendary Moulin Rouge, a cabaret show in Paris you’d heard so much about. Dokyeom, always full of surprises, had secretly bought tickets for the famous venue. As you arrived, the bright lights, vibrant costumes, and captivating performances whisked you away to a world of entertainment you had only dreamed of. Checking "watching a cabaret show" off your bucket list felt even more magical than you had imagined.

By the third day, you decided to slow things down, spending the afternoon at the Champ de Mars for a picnic, with the Eiffel Tower looming gracefully above. You both laughed as you watched tourists pose dramatically in front of the landmark, feeling content in your own world together. Later, you took a scenic cruise along the Seine River, the water shimmering in the late afternoon light.

The two of you returned to the hotel room early to prepare for a special dinner at the Eiffel Tower, a night you had anticipated with excitement. You had chosen a stunning white Chanel mini dress, its chic simplicity accentuated by black off-shoulder sleeves that framed your shoulders gracefully. A delicate ribbon, adorned with a Chanel camellia, cinched the waist, adding a touch of timeless elegance. The soft glow of the evening light made the fabric shimmer subtly as you moved.

Dokyeom had chosen a new suit to complement your outfit. His classic black and white suit was impeccably tailored, with a simple yet elegant Chanel brooch pinned to the lapel.

“I had to pick out a new suit to match you, you know,” he said with a playful smile. “And I didn’t want to risk being turned away because of the dress code.”

“I'm glad though. You look handsome as always.”

After taking some photos on the balcony, you headed out to the restaurant. As you were about to leave, Dokyeom asked you to wait outside while he spoke with the concierge.

You were puzzled by the request, but when he returned, he explained that he had arranged for extra towels and soap to be delivered to your room. You didn’t think much of it and continued your way to the dinner venue.

The both of you indulged in a long-awaited culinary experience at Le Jules Verne, a restaurant you had been eager to visit ever since seeing it in Murder Mystery 2. Dining high above Paris with panoramic views of the city, the experience was as unforgettable as you had hoped. The sophisticated atmosphere and exquisite cuisine made it a perfect end to a delightful day — or so you thought.

Back at the hotel, Dokyeom asked you to close your eyes. He gently guided you into the room, covering your eyes with his hands.

“Close your eyes.”

“What are you up to? Don’t do anything silly; this dress is expensive!” you chided, knowing he might do something playful.

“Relax, I’m not doing anything stupid. Are they closed?”

“Yes, kyeom, they are. What’s going on?”

“Keep them closed. I’ll let go now.”

He removed his hands, and you heard him shuffling things around. “Okay, you can open them now.”

You slowly opened your eyes and took in the breathtaking scene before you. Rose petals were delicately scattered from the entrance of the hotel room, leading to a heart-shaped arrangement in the center, where Dokyeom stood, enveloped in a sea of petals. He held a bouquet of roses, their vibrant colors contrasting beautifully with the soft light of the room. Silver balloons floated on the windows, their reflective letters spelling out “Marry Me?” Your heart raced as you took in every detail, feeling a wave of emotion swell within you.

As you stepped further into the room, Dokyeom moved to stand within the heart of petals, his eyes full of love and nervous anticipation. He handed you the bouquet, his hands trembling slightly, then knelt down with a deep breath, pulling out a ring box. Your breath hitched as you saw the ring — its diamond gleamed with a brilliance that seemed to capture all the warmth and love in the room, shimmering with every flicker of light.

“Dokyeom…”

“Y/N, love, these five years with you have been the most incredible of my life. You’ve been my rock through every high and low, my constant when everything else was uncertain. I can’t imagine a future without you, and I want to continue building that future together. I want to create more memories with you, face every challenge side by side, and share every joy. My love for you is beyond words. Will you marry me?”

Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over as you nodded, your voice choked with emotion. “Yes, of course I will. I love you so much.” You extended your left hand, and with a gentle, reverent touch, he slid the ring onto your finger. The moment felt suspended in time, the diamond’s brilliance reflecting your shared happiness and the promise of a future together.

“Okay, thank God, because my heart was pounding and my knees were killing me,” he joked, making you laugh as you admired the ring.

“I had it custom-made.”

“Really? It’s perfect,” you said, turning your hand to catch the light. The ring’s elegant design and intricate details made it feel even more special. “I love it.”

“Yeah. I thought you’d like it more this way. I had fun designing it and made sure to include all the details you love,” he said, as you admired the diamond sparkling in the moonlight.

“Thank you, Dokyeom. This has been absolutely amazing.” You looked at him and gave him a kiss.

“Let’s take some pictures!” you said, grabbing your camera.

That night, after posting some photos on Instagram, your phone buzzed incessantly with congratulations and likes. But you barely noticed, wrapped up in the comfort of late-night snacks and your favorite movies, nestled beside your new fiancé.

“By the way, how did you pull off that incredible surprise?” you asked, gazing at Dokyeom with curiosity.

“Well, the concierge is a secret weapon,” Dokyeom said with a mischievous grin. “They’re like fairy godparents for tonight. I think they were so charmed by the proposal that they didn’t charge me a thing. They said it was the sweetest thing they’d ever seen — except maybe the time a couple asked them to help with a proposal on a gondola in Venice. ”

You laughed softly, feeling a rush of warmth and affection. “I love you, Dokyeom,” you said, your voice soft as you gazed into his eyes.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he replied. He gently pressed a kiss to your forehead, a gesture that made your heart swell even more.

In that moment, surrounded by the soft glow of the room and the cozy comfort of each other’s presence, everything felt perfect.

You had always thought people exaggerated when they called Paris the city of love. But experiencing it firsthand, you couldn’t agree more.

[marlequinncos]

Cosplay Build Guide: Marko's Jacket from The Lost Boys (1987)

I am a lover of the horror genre; horror movies, books, games, you name it! And one of my favorite horror movies is the 1987 classic “The Lost Boys”, which focuses on a gang of motorcycle-riding vampires in the fictional California town of Santa Carla. I'm also a big fan of thrifting and modifying items for cosplay. I decided to combine those two things and make a garment that has lived rent-free in my head since I first saw the film: the colorful patchwork jacket worn by the vampire Marko.

I'm going to walk you through how I made Marko's jacket, breaking down the different parts that comprise the garment.

Marko’s outfit is made up of several components: a white cropped tank top, light wash denim jeans, leather chaps, custom painted leather moto boots, fingerless motorcycle gloves, a black skull earring, and of course, that iconic and extremely loud jacket. 

All four titular vampires have a signature jacket they wear in the movie, and Marko’s is by far the most elaborate and distinctive. It consists of three main parts: the base jacket, the Italian tapestries, and the patches. Because of the nature of this build, I had to do a ton of intensive research to determine the individual and highly specific parts of the jacket. My main references were photos from movie memorabilia auction sites whenever one of the original jackets went up for sale, since they photograph the jacket from all angles.

Part 1: The Base Jacket

Marko’s base jacket is, according to my research, a men’s black Levi’s denim jacket in a size 40, which I believe translates to a medium. Now, I’m a petite woman (5’3”, athletic but slim), so I knew that the exact jacket would be too big for my frame. Instead, I found a men’s black denim jacket in an extra small; it's very similar in style to the original, but a little better proportioned for me. It's still very much oversized though. The first things I did were remove the buttons and pockets, and I cut off the hem of the jacket and the sleeve cuffs. Then I tossed the jacket in the washing machine to fray the edges. 

Part 2: The Tapestries

The hardest part of the jacket by far was finding the tapestries, for two reasons. The first is that the tapestries were all from the 1960’s and 1970’s, meaning I had to scour vintage stores and websites to find the right ones. The second is the variation. Six jackets were made for each Lost Boy in the movie; this is standard for a film, since some jackets would be used for closeups (the”hero” jackets) while others were used for stunts, and a few even have intentional holes in them for harness rigging. Because of that and the thrifted nature of the jacket, the Marko jackets for the film all differ slightly in the placement of the tapestries and patches.

There are five tapestries in total. Three are velvet: the matador, the peacock, and the leopard with the messed up face. These are impossible to dupe via Spoonflower or Contrado (custom fabric printing websites) due to the fact that these three are essentially small rugs. The other two, chariot lady and cat lady, are dupable via Spoonflower or Contrado printing since they aren’t the same fabric as the others.

The two pin-up tapestries are nearly impossible to find, more so than the velvet ones. In my months of searching, I never found either pin-up tapestry, so I had them printed by Contrado, along with the collar trim.

If you go searching for the velvet tapestries, you'll notice that there are several different versions of each one, with slight changes in color and placement of things in the art. How accurate you want to be is up to you. My peacock and matador are accurate to the tapestries on one of the stunt jackets, whereas my leopard is the correct color but wrong direction. That's doesn't bother me much, personally, especially since the leopard is the hardest of the velvet tapestries to find by far.

Once the tapestries were acquired, I measured different sections based on the dimensions of the jacket, mapped it out using washi tape on the tapestries, and then cut them all out. There was a decent amount of math involved here, specifically regarding scaling the sections of tapestry down by a few inches since my jacket is smaller than the original. I then arranged them all onto the denim jacket and pinned them in place before hand sewing them (yes, you read that right; I hand sewed this whole thing) on in the correct overlap. I also added the rhinestones to the cat lady.

I recommend using embroidery needles and upholstery thread to attach the tapestries to the jacket, due to the thickness and the weight. I also sewed along the designs in the tapestries themselves to better hide the stitching within the image.

Part 3: The Patches

Marko’s jacket has a total of 26 different patches on it, most of which are motorcycle or punk themed. For these, I found a seller on Etsy who makes 24 of them, and I used Contrado to print the remaining two (the anarchy symbol and the large skull) on canvas and added the stitching. You could thrift and find the patches as well, but here's the thing: while some of these patches are pretty easy to find, others seem to be nonexistent, to the point that I wonder if some were made exclusively for the movie. That's why I went and purchased my patches instead of hunting them down. My personal favorite is the “Screw U” one. One fun fact about the patches is that the large winged skull on the back is a leftover from the movie “The Warriors”.

I once again hand sewed these all on as per the references from the movie. You might think that ironing the patches on is an easier method, but there's a few reasons why that won't work: 1) the patches in the movie are sewn on; if you zoom in, you can see the stitching 2) I'm not sure the patches would even adhere to the velvet and velour of the tapestries and 3) if you decide you don't like the placement of a patch that you sewed on, you can just seam rip the stitching and adjust it, which you can't really do as cleanly with an ironed-on patch.

Part 4: The Tassels

The tassels on the jacket’s shoulder are not tassels at all; they’re squid skirts (a type of fishing lure), which is something I never knew existed until I started researching for this build. For these, I found a fishing tackle website that had the closest match to the colors I needed, a blue-grey/orange and a yellow/green. Both squids also have glitter and little eyes painted on.

Part 5: Weathering and Finishing Touches

Lastly, I weathered the jacket to give it that lived-in look. For the dirt/dust on the patches, I used powder eyeshadow. I also picked at the edges of the tapestries to fray them a bit. And to make the patches less stiff, I just broke the jacket in by wearing it around my house. The great thing about this jacket is that the more I wear it and the more it weathers, the better it'll look.

FAQ

How heavy and warm is the jacket?

The jacket is made of denim and rugs, so its pretty warm and heavy. It honestly feels like wearing a weighted blanket, which is a nice bonus if you're anxiety made flesh like I am. It makes a lot of sense for the jacket to be on the heavier side, because if you’ve been to Northern California, you know how cold it can get on the coast, especially at night (not sure if vampires can feel cold, but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

How long did it take you to make the jacket?

I don’t time my cosplay builds, but I can guess based on the amount of TV/movies/podcasts/playlists consumed as I was working on it. I'm also pretty fast when it comes to hand sewing. By my estimation, the jacket took me about 45-50 hours of work, and that’s not counting the time I spent searching for the tapestries.

Can you make me one?

Sorry friend, I don't take commissions. Even if I did, there's no guarantee I could find the exact tapestries again. I appreciate the interest though!

I hope you enjoyed this walkthrough of Marko's jacket! This was a fun build and I'm really proud of the finished product. I'm going to make the rest of Marko's outfit + wig to complete the cosplay, so stay tuned for that!

If you have any other questions, feel free to plop them in my inbox! In addition to tumblr, you can also find my cosplay work on instagram and bluesky @/marlequinncos

[drivinmeinsane]

Witness in the Dark

※ Sierra Six x Claire's Older Sister!Reader ※

{ masterlist } ※ { ao3 } ※ { requested fic }

※ Summary: Don't we all just want to feel the companionable reassurance of another human being?

It only takes a single tragedy to tear your life to shreds and make it to where you're unable to sleep through the night. You tell yourself that you will never trust a bodyguard again, but things don't go according to plan when a man with a number for a name is assigned to the Fitzroy household while your uncle is away

※ Rating: T for suggestive themes and canon typical violence.

※ Content/Tags: Slow burn, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Night terrors, Pining, Unspecified age gap, Movie based - Alternate Universe, No use of Y/N, Obsessive behaviors from both parties, Descriptions of injuries, Mentions of parental death, Mentions of past kidnapping, Mentions of past torture, Implied death of minor character(s)

※ Word count: 12,637

※ Status: Oneshot/Complete

※ Author's Notes: I don't know what came over me. This really got uncontrollably out of hand and ended up being wildly self indulgent. Huge thanks for @danime25 for proofreading this. I owe you my life.

"Ladies!" Your sister's nurse calls as she walks into the room. "I want to introduce you to Six. He'll be looking after the house while Mister Donald is away."

You look up from your position next to Claire on her bed only to meet the eyes of the man following the nurse. They're startlingly blue. His face is impassive as he turns away and surveys the room. He carries himself with an easy grace that hints at the violence that his body could produce. He reeks of danger. You instantly don't appreciate his presence. You had fought with Uncle Fitz tooth and nail over hiring a bodyguard for the duration of his trip away from the home. This man’s presence here means you have clearly lost that argument.

"Only the two exits?" He questions, moving past the bed to stand at the ceiling to floor windows. 

"Yeah." Your tone is hard, biting. The nurse gives a small gasp at your rudeness and says your name disapprovingly.

The man, Six, turns away from the window to look at you with a raised eyebrow. You stare at each other silently, sizing the other up. There’s a flicker of some emotion that you might label as respect in his eyes before Claire, picking up on your hostility, throws her hat in the ring.

"We don't chew gum in this house." You've never loved your little sister's faux-snob act more than in this moment. She snaps a photo of him with her Polaroid, staged records forgotten. He doesn't look particularly pleased about it. It’s more exasperated acceptance than anger though.

He's silent for a moment before speaking. "I'm sorry. I wasn't briefed." 

There’s a trace of a smile on his face. It’s irritating and you have to look away from him. You stare at a record sleeve like your life depends on it. He asks for the photo and picks it up. You see a flash of a tattoo on his hand as he plucks the Polaroid off of the bedspread. Poorly done and worn with age. He’s definitely one of Uncle Fitz’s prison recruits then. One of the most morally dubious options he could have saddled you with in his absence. Perfect.

He says his goodbyes to you and Claire before leaving the room. Your heart is beating irrationally rapidly and your mouth is dry. The man with a number for a name is stirring up nothing but bad memories. You know you won’t sleep well tonight. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

“What kind of name is Six anyway?” Claire asks first thing in the morning after she tosses herself into a chair at the kitchen table. The man in question gives her a long look. 

"007 was already taken so…" He says with a relaxed shrug, coffee mug in hand. He's leaning against the kitchen counter in the same suit as yesterday.

You choke back a laugh at the sight of your sister's expression. You accidentally meet Six's eyes over her head. There's warmth in them that douses your amusement immediately. You sober up and turn back to your breakfast. Softness in someone doing his line of work felt… wrong. He isn't trustworthy, you decide, no matter how kind he acts. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

You wake up with a start. The coppery tang of blood mixed with the dry powder of concrete lingers in your subconscious. It takes several heaving breaths to clear your airway and bring you back to the present. You shakily sit up. You press your palms into your eyes. You try to forget the sensation of a knife in your skin. You're here. You're safe . You're one of the last people your sister has. You're the stable one.

You get to your feet in the dark bedroom and open your door to step out into the hall. You trail unsteady fingertips down the plaster and paint as you make your way to the kitchen and living area. 

There's a barely audible scuffle and you peer through the gloom to see Six stalking you. You catch the barest glimpse of his face in a strip of moonlight. It's intent. Predatory. There's no hint of recognition, not while you move through the darkest parts of the room.

You feel cold. Your pulse starts to hammer in your veins. Your throat works uselessly. Words won't come out of your mouth. You forge along to the kitchen and fumble for the light. The kitchen is awash in a blinding glow right as you feel heat against your back. It immediately withdraws as the bodyguard removes himself from your personal space. You don't turn to face him while you get a glass from the cupboard and fill it with ice and water at the fridge's dispenser. You stare blankly at the burnished steel while you take sip after sip.

You refill your glass. You blink. You take a drink. You pretend like your mind isn't shattered. You pretend like the man your uncle hired hadn't been about to…

"Are you alright?" Six's voice cuts through the fog in your mind. It's like a lantern has been lit to guide you back into the waking world.

You find yourself then and turn to look at him. You study him. He looks slightly rumpled and tired. There's tension around his eyes and his mouth is set in an almost apologetic frown. 

"Just another nightmare. Sorry for disturbing you."

The frown deepens. "You didn't. I was caught by surprise, that's all."

"Fair warning, me out here like this is probably going to be a regular occurrence." You smile wanly. "I know you want us in bed, but I don't do the whole staying put thing so well most nights."

He just nods. He's accepted your words without protest. The frown fades away.

You gesture with your glass in the vague direction of your bedroom. "I'm going to go ahead and excuse myself. Goodnight, Six."

"Goodnight." 

───※ ·❆· ※───

Weeks go by. The household falls into a comfortable enough routine. Claire ribs him good-naturedly every chance she gets. He's always got a faint aura of amusement every time she takes a shot at him. You hadn't yet seen him get angry. Pretending to be annoyed? Yes, but never actually expressing any negative emotion beyond mild exasperation. Not yet, anyway. 

He sends the both of you to bed every night after Claire's nurse takes her leave. You inevitably get up in the middle of the night after another vivid nightmare. Six is always either watching the camera footage or doing his rounds. He's stopped being surprised by your presence after the night he hunted you. You linger in the kitchen doorway night after night, watching him keep vigil. He's got a soft face, you've decided. There's tension there, likely from worry and lack of sleep, but not cruelty. You've begun to wonder if he has the capability for it. You know he must. Uncle Fitz has kept you in the dark about a lot of the work he does, but you know a kind man wouldn’t have been a candidate for whatever program your uncle runs. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

You're woken up a few nights later by the sound of hands scrabbling on your door. Your eyes snap open and you remain frozen for a second before you hear Claire's muffled voice. You're immediately out of bed so fast you stumble and twist your ankle painfully. You fling the door open and next thing you know, your little sister falls wheezing into your arms. "Something's… Something's wrong." She gasps out.

She can't breathe and is clutching at her chest with weak hands. Horror races down your back and you're pulling her into your arms in a clumsy embrace, desperately trying to keep her upright.

"Six!" The name is torn from you in a shout. You never thought you would be screaming for a man you'd told yourself you couldn't trust.

He's there in an instant. He puts a steadying hand on your back before he gently pulls Claire away and lifts her up into his arms. She wheezes again and both you and Six freeze.

"I'm okay." she whispers. She looks so small and breakable in the bodyguard's thick arms. Like a bird plucked from the sky, held the mercy of a giant's hands.

"Can you get the keys for the car and unlock it?" His voice washes over you. Its steadiness anchors you to reality. You manage a "Yeah." and take off through the house to the garage, making a pit-stop to snag the keys from their bowl. Your ankle is throbbing. Six is close behind, his brisk stride and long legs keeping time with your hurried scrambling. You mash the unlock button on the fob and throw yourself into the backseat. Claire is gently deposited in after you. Her head is resting on your lap. You comb through her brown hair with shaky hands. 

"Mount St. Mary's." You tell Six the moment he's halfway into the driver's seat. "They're the ones who put her pacemaker in."

He grunts in response, backing out of the garage. You don't remember when you handed him the keys or when the garage door was opened. You don't think about anything other than your little sister. You can't lose her too. You've already lost so much of your family and of yourself. The ride passes in a blur. You're only fleetingly aware of the passing lights. Your heart is hammering in your chest like it's beating for Claire and you both. You whisper pleas and promises to her, stroking her forehead with shaking hands.

You're pulled out of your trance by Six yanking the passenger door open, and you help guide your sister into his capable arms. The medical team whisks Claire into the back immediately the moment he has her on the stretcher. You're left in a stiff, vinyl chair in the waiting room. Bodies haven't been in it long enough to soften the material. You're filling out intake paperwork on your sister's behalf. Six stands next to you, hands clasped in front of himself. You glance over, checking his watch every few seconds, your leg bouncing in place. Nervousness and fear wash over you in all-consuming waves. 

He catches your glance as your eyes dart over yet again.

"You holding up alright?'' His questions surprise you. He rarely is the one to initiate conversations. His gaze is steady, grounding, blue eyes watching you intently.

"Not really." You admit, inhaling and exhaling jaggedly. He nods. There's tension around his eyes. Is he worried too? You have to look away from his face and instead talk to his watch. "She's my sister. I need to keep her safe. I can't lose her too."

You hear him make a noise in response. You watch the seconds tick by one by one on his watch. The two of you are silent for approximately thirty-seven of them before Six breaks the moment by undoing the metal clasp. He pulls the watch away from his skin, revealing a bar of ink across the underside of his surprisingly delicate wrist before he's handing it to you.

"Here."

You stare at the dangling watch blankly before looking up at his face. "What?"

"Keep it safe for me for a while." His tone leaves no room for argument. You reach out with hesitant fingers and take it from his grasp. The steel is warm in your hand. You swallow thickly and drape the watch over your wrist, waiting for the sickening feeling of having your hands bound to hit you. It doesn't. You clumsily latch the buckle. It's sized perfectly for the man diligently standing at your side, no possibility of tightening it without it being resized altogether. It hangs off your wrist like a loose bracelet and you realize then just how big Six is. 

He hides his mass well. His muscles are concealed discretely enough underneath blazers and tailored trousers. He simply doesn't take up space in whatever room he's in, always the expert at being unremarkable, unobtrusive, and not worth remembering. But this… this is a dead giveaway. You cast a sideways glance at his hands and, for a dizzying moment, you wonder how your hand would look pressed palm to palm with one of his.

"Miss Fitzroy. Your sister is cleared for visitors now if you would like to see her." A nurse's voice cuts into your illogical musings.

You stand up so abruptly that the chair you were just sitting on screeches agonizingly loud on the polished vinyl flooring before it thuds into the wall. The nurse flinches slightly, but Six is steady at your side. He falls into step behind you as you follow the man through the winding hallways to Claire.

The doctor stops you at the door, arm barring you for a moment before letting it drop. "She's stabilized. Tell your uncle there was a programming glitch. We were able to repair it. Non-invasive." She pauses for a moment, giving the man hovering behind you a hard look before continuing. "The remote system flagged it ten minutes before he pulled up."

"You're able to monitor from that distance?" You interrupt. 

"We can keep track of her pacemaker from just about anywhere. You may see her. She can be released later tonight after we have her under observation for a while longer.” The doctor catches your pinched expression and adds. “Just to be safe.”

You nod, gaze bypassing her to focus on Claire. She’s been watching the exchange and, at your attention, she pulls a weak smile under her oxygen mask while raising a pale hand to flash the rocker sign. The doctor finally steps aside but not before blocking Six as he makes to follow you into the room. “Only family allowed.”

You look at her incredulously and open your mouth to protest before Six cuts you off. “I understand. Thank you, Doctor.” His tone is bland, unemotional. He arranges himself to stand with his back to the inside of the open door. He’s obnoxiously in the way of anyone that would need to come or go. He spends the passing minutes as they bleed into hours standing there like a steadfast sentinel. Back straight, hand clasped over his right wrist, left wrist startlingly bare, head lowered in waiting supplication; he’s the very image of patient servitude.

You sit at your sister's side in your own vigil. The three of you wait in tired silence until a nurse finally announces Claire is free to be discharged. 

She fusses as she's helped into a wheelchair. You and Six stand aside, letting the staff fight the battle. They win, but as soon as everyone spills out of the automatic doors, she's pulling herself out of the mobility aid. She gently slaps away yours and Six's reaching hands when the two of you try to steady her. "Don't you dare."

"But-" you start to protest before you're immediately shut down. "I can walk to the car. I'm not that much of an invalid."

Six doesn't even try to say anything, just forges ahead through the parking lot like nothing happened. He's learned by now that there's no arguing with your little sister. The traitor. You and Claire make it to the vehicle after him and you move to slide into the back seat with her but she pulls a face.

"You're smothering meeeee." she exaggeratedly whines. You give her a flat look. "Smothered." she insists. She dramatically points at the front of the car and raises insistent eyebrows.

You end up buckling yourself into the front passenger seat with an exasperated sigh. You look over at Six. The tension has bled away from his face. He looks more relaxed, relieved even. He notices your stare and the two of you make eye contact. You roll your eyes pointedly at your sister’s antics. Six maintains a serious expression until it cracks and you’re rewarded with the bodyguard's smile.

Six's arm brushes ever so slightly against yours when he puts the vehicle into reverse and then into drive. The feeling of his warmth lingers like a brand on your skin. His watch hangs heavily around your wrist. You fight the urge to gently touch the gleaming metal and instead interlink your own fingers together hard enough to hurt.  

You spend the car ride sagged against the leather of the passenger seat, desperately trying to focus on the passing scenery and not the man seated next to you. Not his kindness, not the way he had kept you grounded. You tell yourself he was just doing his job. Any bodyguard would have been tender and careful with your sister…  and with you. You try to not read into what Six offering his watch to you for "safe keeping" might possibly mean.

Soon you're back at the house, waiting in the garage with your little sister while the hired man does a sweep of the building to make sure no one has breached the perimeter while it lay vacant. Claire is tucked against your side. She's bleary eyed with exhaustion. 

"Clear." Six's voice cuts into the silence of the garage.

You tow Claire along with you and sit her down at the table. She slumps with her cheek resting in her hand. You busy yourself with getting a bowl of ice cream set in front of her.

She gulps it down in huge mouthfuls. Six sits to your right at the head of the table while she eats. His eyes are focused on the screen of his laptop. You're sitting across from your sister, half curled up in the dining chair. The adrenaline has long since left your body, leaving you feeling heavy with exhaustion.

"You feeling better?" Six directs at Claire.

"Just another Thursday." She says with a shrug. "Uncle Donald and my sister say this is the best medicine. Ice cream. I tend to agree."

"They're smart people."

"Only family I got." 

Six’s response is instant, like he’ll choke on the words if he doesn’t get them out of his mouth fast enough. “Fitz’s the closest thing to family I’ve had in a long while.”

"Maybe that kind of makes us family." 

You catch the way that he smiles. He ducks his head to hide it, but you see the hopeless spread of it across his face. There’s something so tender and vulnerable in his eyes that you get stung by a pang in your chest. Your heart aches for the people sitting at the table with you. Claire for carrying the loss of your parents and Six for whose closest hint of a familial tie is his boss. You get pulled out of your spiraling thoughts by Claire yawning. 

"You should go to bed." His voice is soft.

You haul yourself to your feet, exhausting hanging on you like a blanket. You whisk Claire’s empty bowl away and gently touch her shoulder. “C’mon, you heard the man.” 

She grumbles a little and stands up with you. You’re about to guide her to her bedroom but she pauses and turns. “‘Night, Robot.”

“Goodnight, Claire.” He sounds exasperated with an undercurrent of amusement.

He doesn’t look away from the screen as you and your younger sister retire for the night. You fall into bed, wrung out from the hospital trip. It’s not until you’re firmly under the covers and settled into bed that you realize you’re still wearing Six’s watch. You stare at it, warring with yourself on if you should scrape yourself off of the mattress to go give it to the bodyguard keeping vigil at the table or to just set it aside to give to him in the morning. You do neither of those things. You fall asleep watching the silver metal reflect the moonlight peering through the shivering curtains. You do not dream of your past captors and their leering smiles that night. Instead, you dream of a comforting hand on your wrist, the gentle hum of a deep voice. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

The three of you settle back into routine following Claire’s hospital visit, but things have shifted slightly following that night. You gave Six his watch back the following morning before your sister got out of bed and before her nurse arrived for the day. He took it from your hesitantly offered hand. His thick fingers gently brushed your palm as he lifted the piece from it. Your wrist has felt desolate, too light ever since you took it off. You try to ignore it all, try to regain the distance you had before. You don’t succeed. Something about Uncle Fitz’s hired man keeps eroding the walls built from mistrust and agony. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

You snap awake, soaked through with rapidly cooling sweat. You’re certain you didn’t scream out. Your throat isn’t sore, but your face is wet, moisture clinging to your lashes. You must have been silently sobbing through your nightmare. You uncurl yourself from your tensed position and drag yourself out of bed. You walk through the darkened hallway to the kitchen. You make sure to roughly trail your hand along the wall and clear your throat. It won’t do anyone any favors to startle Six. 

You get your glass of water and make your way into the main sprawl of rooms. The bodyguard is sitting at the kitchen table, laptop open, as he is most nights. You pull out a chair and sit down with your glass. You look at it hollowly, trying to ignore the lingering terror from your nightmares. You can't but notice Six’s eyes flickering over to you now and again. There’s a concerned crease between his eyebrows.

“Rough night?”

“The usual. As Claire says, it’s just another Thursday.” Your voice comes out more bitter than you intend. You tighten your grip on your cup until it feels like it might shatter in your hand. You force yourself to loosen your clenched fingers. 

The man seated at the table with you gives an acknowledging hum, sedately chewing his gum. He doesn’t press, doesn’t try to force any explanations out of you. You relax a little in your seat. Having another human being awake and nearby is a comfort. You rest your cheek on your hand and observe him. He looks tired. The light coming from the screen serves only to highlight the weariness weighing down his face and stooping his usually rigid shoulders. Looking at him like this reminds you of the night you watched this man and your sister interact after he drove you both home from Mount St. Mary’s. 

“She’s happier with you around, you know.”

There's such a long silence following your unprompted comment that you don't think he'll respond but he finally does. "She's a good kid."

"Yeah. Yeah she is." You don’t think you could have clung to life in the wake of the incident without her there to be strong for. Most weeks, she was the only reason you bothered to try to function.

You drain the rest of your glass and stand up. The ice clinks. You dump it in the sink and put the cup in the top rack of the dishwasher. You felt wrung out enough to attempt sleep again. You pause in the doorway and look back at the man at the table. "Six."

He looks up, eyebrow raised. His lips are slightly parted. 

"'Night."

"Goodnight." You can’t decipher his tone.

Your nightmares don’t return that night. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

About a month later, you’re screaming and thrashing in your bed. You’re choking under your captor’s hands, the sensation of soaked cloth over your face. You feel the pressure of those cruel fingers on your throat, over your mouth. Water moistening every ragged inhale. You can’t breathe.

Six’s response is all but instantaneous from the moment he hears your first scream. He pushes your door open, one hand on the knob and the other wrapped around his drawn gun. He’s sweeping his eyes across the dark room, There’s no attacker to find, there’s only you writhing on your bed, plagued by your own mind. He holsters his weapon and goes to your side. He tries calling your name, but there’s no acknowledgement, only your panicked wheezing. He puts one knee on the mattress for stability and grabs your upper arms. He tries to shake you awake. That gets a reaction. You start fighting him. Your hands claw and hit at him. He ignores it and repeats your name, asking you to wake up with an edge of desperation to his voice. He’s wildly unprepared for this. A physical enemy he can handle, but this…

You come out of it, going limp in his hold. Your chest is heaving. You blink away the lingering horrors of your dream and look up at him, horrified. For a split second your panic flares anew until you focus on his face. You remind yourself that you know this man, that you trust him with your sister’s life. He releases his grip on you and leans to turn on your bedside lamp. You wince against the explosion of light before bolting upright to reach towards his face. He’s scratched and you wonder if he’s going to be sporting a black eye. He lets your fingertips rest on his cheek for a heartbeat, something unreadable in his eyes before he’s withdrawing his knee from the mattress and standing at the side of your bed. He’s the picture of composure.

“I’m so sorry.” Guilt is suffocating you almost as much as the man in your nightmare. 

"You don't need to apologize. I should. I wasn't briefed about how to handle it." He sounds genuinely sorry, a touch of distress bleeding into his tone. It twists the knife of guilt deeper. You feel your eyes start to well. 

"No, no it's not your fault.. I don't want to be like this, I'm sorry." The tears spill over. You turn your face away and scrub your hands over your cheeks.

He hesitates and sits down on the bed next to you. There's a yawning span of distance between the two of you. There's not a hint of anger or frustration coming from him, not even pity. just.... sorrow. Understanding.

"Fitz briefed me on your history." It's blunt. matter of fact.

"Then you know about the...." You hesitate. 

"Yeah.” He answers before continuing. “Does he know how bad it gets?"

"No… I never told him all the details. I didn't want to burden him. He's got enough to worry about." You shrink into yourself. Your eyes focused on the items cluttering your nightstand.

"Your wellbeing isn't a burden." There it is. There’s a taste of the anger you’d been waiting for in his tone. You squeeze your eyes shut.

"I'm the stable one, Six. I can't let everyone down again ." You laugh a little, self-deprecating. You press your palms against your eyes. Baring down until stars explode behind your closed eyelids. 

He hums, and you feel the shift of the mattress as he stands up. You think he’s leaving, disgusted with you and your emotions, but the heat of his presence doesn’t go away. The warmth of him bleeds through your sleep clothes. You can feel him looking down at you. You nearly jump out of your skin when he nudges your arm. You look up at him, startled. He quirks an eyebrow.

“Come on.” He says, offering his hand to you. You take it. He easily guides you up onto shaky legs.

He has you follow him down the hallway and to the dining table. A path as familiar as an old friend by now. He motions for you to sit at the table, and you mutely follow his direction. You hear him move around in the kitchen. He returns with a bowl of ice cream and a full glass of water. He sits both in front of you.

"I have it on expert authority that this should help. All the smartest people I know support it." He's so serious sounding. You look at him flatly. He holds his grave expression for a beat before he winks. You crack a teary smile and lay into the ice cream like it personally insulted you.

He settles into a chair across from you while you eat. He occasionally glances over at the open laptop’s screen to check the security footage, but his main focus is on you. You feel a little self conscious under his gaze. You scour your mind for something to say, anything to lessen the intensity he’s directing towards you.

"Do you ever sleep? Like… go to bed sleep?" The question comes out of nowhere. a flash of surprise crosses his face. You'd seen him cross his arms in his chair and tip his head back. Caught him leaning  against the wall, hands in his pockets, hip cocked for stability. But the thought of him actually dressing down into pajamas and tucking himself under the blankets  seems.... implausible. too soft for this man who is alert and buttoned up into his crisp slacks and fitted shirts no matter the hour of the day. You half supposed he showered in the damn things.

"Not as often as I should. I don't sleep easy either." The honesty surprises you. 

"Why?" It's probing but you're too exhausted and raw to care.

"Too many memories. My line of work isn't exactly conducive to pleasant dreams." You wonder if he would have been willing to be so open this entire time or if something changed between the two of you. When would it have changed? Were the moments you found significant also important to him? Was he starting to crave your company in the inexplicable way as you’ve begun to crave his?

You almost apologize to him for prying, but you stop yourself. You nod instead. You understand how it is to have a beast pacing the maze of your sleeping mind, pulling out the threads of your worst memories like entrails for you to witness over and over again. 

"I still think about it… About them." You admit. Your eyes skitter across the table like a frightened mouse, focusing on Six's watch face before darting away. You can’t tell the time from this distance. There is a pressure welling up in your throat. Something is clawing its way out into the open.

“Talk to me.” His request is firm, paving the way for your words. He takes his watch off, a mirror of the other night. It slips free of his arm in the same way, inky black revealed on the underside of his wrist, tendons shifting, the movements delicate. He sets the watch on the table in front of you. The metal links clatter on the polished wood surface. You glance up at his face, shadowed in the dim light. “For safekeeping.” He remarks.

You reach out and lift it from the worn surface, running your fingers over the band. The weight is soothing in your grasp. The seconds tick by and it feels as though your heart is trying to race them. You finally open your mouth and release your burden.

“Claire had her birthday party that day. It was the last good day we had with our parents. It was hard to keep the security straight since there were so many people in the house. I didn’t think anything was wrong when two men came up to me and introduced them as part of the security detail. I still didn’t think it was weird when they asked me to come with them. How could I have been so stupid ?” Your breath catches, anger palpable in your voice. Six twitches like he might reach out, but he stills and you continue.

“They got me out of the house. I wasn’t strong enough to fight them off when they put me in the back of the SUV. They… they kept me for days asking questions I didn’t know the answers to. They didn’t like that I didn’t know anything. They tried to be more persuasive… so I started making up things. I just wanted them to stop but they wouldn’t. The wrong answer or the right answer, it didn’t matter. They offered me in exchange for a ransom and eventually they pulled me out of the basement. My parents were there to do the handoff. The guys wouldn’t let anyone else do it. We made it about three miles down the highway before they caught up with us and shot out the front tires. I don’t think they expected anyone to live after we went through the guardrail, so they just.. drove off. Left. I don’t know how long I was in the car staring at my parents. Claire was too young to understand that I ruined her life. I’ve been waiting for her to realize what I did. She hasn’t yet but she will.”

“How did you ruin it?” Quiet, disbelieving.

“I got our parents killed. I shouldn’t have gone with those men. I should’ve known better.” You hear a noise like a wounded animal. A creature left for roadkill, great heaving breaths rattling in that damaged chest. It’s you, you realize dully, you’re the animal. There’s a large hand enveloping your wrist. It’s Six and he’s holding onto you. 

“How could you know?” He asks. You shake your head, a sob escapes you. You feel shame. Grief. Six’s hand squeezes almost tight enough to hurt. It grounds you, you can’t escape into your own mind. Not with that insistent pressure to stay . You feel the metal of his watch biting into the skin of your palm. It’s a good kind of ache.

“It wasn’t your fault. You trusted people you were meant to trust. Who could blame you for that?” he insists. His eyes are too soft, too kind.

“Uncle Fitz.” It slips out, involuntary. You would bite your own tongue off if it could take back the betrayal. You don’t dare to look at the man seated across from you. You had all but swung a bat at the person who he said was the closest thing he had to family. 

His hand withdraws from your arm, and for a moment you’re certain that he’s going to walk off and leave you sitting here by yourself. He doesn’t, he surprises you once again. He simply leans further over the table, capturing your hands with his before plucking his watch from your ironclad grasp. He lays it over your much smaller wrist. He handles you with so much gentleness it almost hurts. He secures the clasp and simply… holds your hands. He says your name and you look up 

“Your family loves you.” He states simply. He says it like it’s an indisputable fact. Like it’s something as true and honest as the rotation of the Earth. You nod mutely. You can’t argue, not when he says it with so much assurance. He gives your hands a final, comforting squeeze and stands up. He gathers up your dishes, bowl, spoon, and glass. The bodyguard makes a soothing gesture to stay seated when you make a motion to rise and help him. You listen to the domestic sounds of him running the sink and loading your used dishes into the dishwasher. Your eyes start to drift shut. There’s a weight off your lungs, your burden has been dispersed, even just for a little while.

There’s a soft touch to your shoulder. It’s Six and he wants you back in bed. You get to your feet and let him escort you to your bedroom door. You feel oddly nervous, fidgeting with your fingers and avoiding meeting the hired man’s eyes. It feels like the awkward end of a weird date where everyone was too uncomfortably honest.. No matter how delusional that sounds even to yourself.

“Goodnight.” he’s the one who breaks the silence first. You feel relieved. 

“‘Night, Six.” is your response as you put your hand on the doorknob and slip into the room, away from his unreadable gaze. When you fall asleep for the second time that night, you dream of steady hands marked with prison tattoos.

───※ ·❆· ※───

The morning dawns without preamble. It feels like you have barely laid your head on the pillow. You check the time on the watch hanging loosely around your wrist. Less than four hours have passed since your night terror and subsequent comforting via the household bodyguard. Your morning routine feels more laborious than usual. Every movement feels like crawling through tilled soil. 

You’re dressed for the day and walking into the kitchen when you hear your little sister badgering Six. 

“What happened to you, Robot?” she asks.

You pop your head around the corner to take a look at the man she’s addressing. You stop cold. It’s a mess. He’s a mess. The skin around his left eye is puffy and bruised. There's clear nail marks on his cheeks and down to his neck. Any exposed skin had taken the brunt of your panic. You can even see some redness through his facial hair. You feel sick, betrayed again by your body. Your own hands had tried to tear him apart. 

"Well..." he starts and shrugs his jacket off. He folds it and drapes it over the back of one of the chairs.

He's about to go on his outdoor rounds, which you and Claire have secretly dubbed ‘enrichment time’, and continue wearing a trail into the yard. If he’s feeling particularly comfortable, he might sneak a nap in one of the lawn chairs now that the sun is up. Provided that he’s sure the two of you are secure and can survive without him awake for an hour or so. 

"Your sister beat me in a fight. I'll have to hand in my championship belt." It's relaxed and easy. He gives you a conspiratorial wink when Claire rolls her eyes with a scoff.

You match his earnest tone with your own. "You should have seen it, I was about to get the folding chair and everything."

“Ooh-kay, I’ll just assume it was a weird sex thing,” she comments, turning back to her breakfast. “Looks like you already won his watch though. Congrats.” 

Silence follows. Claire smugly scrapes her spoon around in her bowl, capturing every last shred of cereal. There’s a self-satisfied smile on her face. Neither of you protest. Either you let it go and hope she loses interest in the bit, or you launch into a defense that will only get her to double down. No matter what, you’ll be the losers. 

Six pushes a heavy exhale through his nose and walks out of the room. You follow him right out the back door and onto the deck. The two of you stand there for a moment in companionable silence. It’s beautiful out here. The sun is a sedate creature in the sky. She's lazily casting her rays over the yard. The water in the pool is sparkling in it, lapping playfully at the concrete walls. Six’s shoulders are still tense in your field of view. He looks as though he’s holding himself up through sheer force of will.

“I’m sorry again about last night.” You say to his back.

“Please don’t be. Things happen.” He says with a sigh. You falter. He sounds as exhausted as you feel.  You don't want to push the issue. 

He gestures for you to sit in one of the deck chairs by the pool. You don’t, instead choosing to trail him as he does his rounds. He’s lit by the sun. You’re in his shadow. His hair looks like a field of golden wheat. You almost want to run your hands though it in order to feel the softness for yourself. You instead soothe the urge by toying with the band of his watch still loosely encircling your wrist. He looks back at you every once in a while, eyes dazzlingly blue in the bright sunlight. You had never noticed the angles of his face before, the curves of his nose with its distinctive bump, the set of his cheekbones, how his facial hair is darker than the hair on his head. You hate that you're noticing these details now. After the events of last night, any tentative bond feels tainted.

The morning grows warmer as you drift behind him like a ghost. Eventually he rolls his sleeves up to reveal his forearms. You start to understand why people in bygone eras got so flustered at the sight of a lady's ankle. His wrists are bodice ripping enough, you suppose, but the space from his fingertips to the crook of his elbow? That is home to so much previously unseen skin. Had he been rolling up his sleeves every morning? If you had simply looked out one of the windows, would you have seen the sight that you’re witnessing now?  Would you have seen the distinct veins trailing up the insides of his muscular arms? What about the tattoos whose mere existence beg to have a finger trace along his skin? You avert your eyes, not wanting him to notice you staring. You tell yourself that it’s just the novelty of it all, that the surprise at seeing him less buttoned up will wear off.

With the rounds done, the two of you are back at your starting point. The bodyguard settles onto one of the deck chairs. He lets out a borderline obscene groan as he lets his body relax against the wood. His eyes flutter closed. He shifts slightly, another noise escapes his throat as he does. You make your way to the chair next to him on shaky legs, and drop into it. He doesn’t stir. You debate on standing up, you don’t, the thought of leaving his side makes you anxious. You make yourself comfortable in your seat. 

Through the open window, you can hear Claire’s record player. You hear the notes of Feel the Warm. She’s playing Mark Lindsay again. You let it wash over you. The sunlight is dappled across this part of the patio. You cast a glance over at your companion. His arms are crossed and he looks dead to the world. Your own eyelids are drooping, He’s the last thing you see before you drift off.

You wake up gradually, it’s an easy kind of waking. No wild jerk of consciousness, just the soft trickle of awareness. You’ve managed to curl on your side in the deck chair. You squirm upright and feel cloth slide down into your lap. It’s the hired man’s jacket. He must have gone back inside to get it. You touch it with hesitant fingers and look up, scanning for him. He’s currently out of sight, but you do see Claire in the hammock chair across the way. She’s engrossed in her phone and frantically tapping at the screen. You check the time on the watch in your possession before you catch a glimpse of Six coming up the patio steps from the lower yard. He’s got a sandwich in one hand and his own phone in the other. He’s intent on the device. He glances up and accidentally meets your eyes. He jumps slightly as if startled you’re awake. He recovers and gives you a nod.

“‘Morning.” His mouth is full. You know Claire will give him the tongue lashing of a lifetime if she notices.

"It's after twelve." You playfully retort, watching unimpressed as he fights to swallow the bread in his mouth. He’s really struggling for a second before he gets it down, his throat working roughly. You get to your feet, carefully folding his jacket over your arm. You approach him with it. 

"Good afternoon then." He says quietly. You swear you catch the ghost of a smile on his face as he looks at you. 

“Thanks for the blanket.” You say, offering it to him. He takes it with his unoccupied hand before shrugging it on, doing a quick change of hands with his lunch. 

You move to take off the watch and return that as well, but he stops you with a disapproving noise. “You’re keeping that safe for me, remember?”

You pause for a moment, mind racing wildly with the effort to make sense of his words. To find meaning in them. Your hand falls away from the metal and you surrender with a mute nod. If he wanted you to keep it for him for a while longer, who were you to protest? It’s a strange kind of comfort to have it. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

Things come to another disastrous head some weeks later. It happens after the nurse sees Claire tucked into bed before heading home for the evening. It happens after you give your sister your own goodnight wishes. You had gently brushed her hair from her face and gave her a kiss on the forehead even if she scrunches her face in mock disgust each time you do. There’s no telling which moment between the two of you will be the last. You hadn’t had the luxury of knowing that your mom’s wet pleas for help would be the last gift from her in that twisted hunk of metal. You wanted your little sister to have a happy memory of you if a goodnight ever turned into a goodbye. Less nightmares that way.

You had stood up from your seat on the edge of the bed, made sure to smooth her blanket out. “Sweet dreams, Claire.” you said before you extinguished the slow glow cast by the lamp on her nightstand. 

“‘Night,” she had said to you before yelling. “‘Night, Robot!” in the direction of the door. 

You heard a weary sounding response from the ‘robot’ in question. Six was hovering in the hallway, patiently waiting to escort you to your bedroom door. He’s been diligent in performing the action every single night without fail since your impromptu wrestling session with him. He also hasn’t let you return his watch to him yet. You closed the bedroom door behind you, stepped into the hall and nearly brushed against the tall man. He moved back only enough to give you the barest clearance to get past him so he could trail after you for the scant few steps to your own door. It seems lately that he’s been standing closer to you. It also seems like his eyes have been lingering more on your face than the surveillance feeds at night when you emerge from your room, wide eyed and shaken from whatever terror that had gripped you. Your exchanged goodnights haven’t been anything out of the ordinary though, even if his voice was lower… more intimate than it used to be.

The bubble officially bursts for you when you abruptly jerk awake. You assume it was a nightmare you can’t remember, though you don’t feel any of the usual symptoms. There’s no tremors or wild breathing. You’re just… awake. You think about laying in bed and trying to drift off, but there’s a sense of unease you can’t shake. You make up your mind and shuffle over to the door. Like any other night, you turn the knob and walk out into the hall.

Like a snare snatching a rabbit, rough hands seize you. Your mouth is covered, fingers digging in harshly. And with a sudden drop of your stomach, you register the sensation of a gun pressing into your side. The metal’s coldness burrows though the thin layer of your sleep shirt. You’re frozen in shock, mind racing. Where's Six? Where's the bodyguard uncle Fitz had hired? He was supposed to protect you and your sister. Keep you safe. Why wasn't he doing his job? Why was this man in the house? 

Tears start running down your face without your permission. Your sobs are broken off against the inside of your mouth. They can’t escape the crushing pressure. A scream you can’t release is building in your throat. What if this man did something to Claire?

The gun digs in deeper, grinding against your ribs. He drags you down the hall and into the living room. It’s dark and you flinch as you feel something sharp dig into one of your feet. You whimper. The floor is littered with broken glass. The sound of it shattering must have been what woke you up. 

“Shut up.” the man holding you hisses, giving you a tooth rattling shake while he leans over your shoulder to see where he’s steering you. His breath is sour. “Where is he?”  He must mean Six. 

The bodyguard must still be able to present a problem if this man is asking about him. You’re not completely alone in this. It’s enough to sharpen your mind. To direct your focus. Your eyes are straining to make out anything in the darkness. It’s a mess of shapes that are so familiar in the daylight, but they look like strangers in the darkness. You manage to recognize the coffee table before the attacker does and you pull your leg out of the way. He slams into it and stumbles. He curses loudly through the pain of hitting his shin on the corner. You see your opportunity and savagely bite the hand covering your mouth. The saltiness of blood washes over your tongue but you bury your teeth in deeper. The tendons and nerves give way beneath your teeth. You go until you hit bone and hang on. Even if you don’t make out of this alive, you’re going to make damn sure this fucker doesn’t get to keep full use of his fingers.

He’s groaning, blinded by the shock of pain. You dare to release your hold on him in order to slam the back of your head into his face as hard as you can, throwing yourself into a backwards jump to do so. He lets out a wounded noise and clutches his face. He’s completely let go of you to do so. The gun is on the floor now, dropped in the surprise of your retaliation. You skate awkwardly on the glass as you make a run for it. The floor feels wet under your feet as you sprint for the hall. You’re leaving a trail of bloody footprints in your wake. The scream you’ve felt building weakly escapes. It’s a too quiet utterance of Six’s name. You can’t find the ability to yell as loud as you need to. You’re nearly sightless from a lack of light and terrified tears. You’re battering against the walls and furniture like a moth around a lightbulb. You make it halfway down the hall to Claire’s bedroom when you feel it. A brush of the assailant’s hand against your back. He shouts when he misses you, and you jitter to the side, making contact with the wall right as he slams into the floor. You put your back to it and look down, eyes wide enough in terror to make out the shapes of two struggling men. 

Six is on top of the man who had grabbed you. His silhouette is identifiable even in the murky dark. Relief turns your legs into jelly. He’s come for you after all. You allow yourself to go limp and slide down the wall, curling up on the floor. You squeeze your eyes closed so you don’t have to put a visual to the violence you’re hearing. It’s wet, crunchy. Eventually you only hear the heaving breathing of one man. You don’t know how long you sit there shaking. 

You’re coaxed into opening your eyes by Six’s voice saying your name. Your bedroom door is ajar and the light is on, illuminating the hallway enough to comfortably see, but not enough to where you can’t pretend the dark smears and streaks are shadows. The attacker isn’t in the hall any more. Six is kneeling in front of you. He’s got a cut on his cheek but otherwise looks unharmed.

“Are you with me?” It’s said with aching concern.

"Yeah… Yeah I'm here." You’re all too aware of your stinging feet, the ache of your muscles, the pain in the back of your head. 

Relief floods his face at your words. He reaches out but stops himself before making contact with you. You notice that his knuckles are split open and already bruising. His hand hovers in the space between your bodies, trembling slightly like he can’t bear to touch you but withdrawing is equally torturous. You rock onto your knees and shove yourself into his arms instead. They’re instantly around you. He holds you to himself. It’s all you can do to cling to him in kind. If you could nestle alongside the lungs in his chest, you would make a home in his rib cage. 

"You did well. I'm sorry I wasn't able to keep him from you. His pals kept me busy." His voice is full of bitter frustration. 

You shake your head and speak against his collarbone. “Is Claire okay?”

"She slept right through it. She's still asleep. I just checked on her." He soothes, running a hand up and down your back.

“Good…” you respond, unspeakably thankful. You could cry.

“Do I have your permission to pick you and take you to your bed? I don’t want you walking with your feet like this.” 

“Yeah, but I’m too heavy?” You’re surprised and uncertain. Sure, he had slammed around a grown man like a rag doll, but what if….

“Believe me, you’re not.” He sounds almost amused.

He eases you up onto your knees and over his lap. He encourages you to put your arms over his shoulders. It’s startlingly intimate. You can easily see the fine lines around his eyes at this distance. His breath is warm and against your face, smelling faintly of the watermelon gum he chews. You have just a second to try and process it before he’s gaining a foothold. He stabilizes you with one thick arm under your thighs and his hand on your back. You reflexively gasp and clench the back of his jacket in your hands. Each of his steps is steady. There’s no sign of strain even as he navigates your bedroom doorway. He carefully lowers you to the edge of your mattress and withdraws his arm. Your thighs release their death grip against his hips and you settle into place, feet off the ground. You avoid looking at his face, you know yours feels like it’s on fire. 

You notice that he had already moved your trashcan to your bedside and collected the first aid kit and a roll of paper towels. He must have known you’d cooperate with him. He drags your desk chair over and takes a seat. He pats his thigh encouragingly, and you place your heel right above his knee. He steadies you with a firm hand around your ankle. He removes the shards of glass. He doesn't let you jerk away, not with the grip he has on you, even when the tweezers catch on a particularly deep piece. He works in silence and you eventually allow yourself to lay flat on the bed while he does his task. You don't ask what happened to the man in the hallway. You don't ask how Six got detained in the first place. He doesn’t volunteer the information. The time passes and you’re halfway asleep by the time he’s tying off the wrap securing the bandages on your other foot and carefully easing your leg back down from its elevated position on his thigh. 

"Please stay." You ask the ceiling. You feel more than see Six freeze in response to your question.

“I shouldn’t.” He sounds conflicted. You prop yourself onto your elbows to get a better look at him.

“Do you not want to?”

“It’s not that. It’s anything but that.”

You bite your lip and decide to throw all your cards on the table. “I sleep better when I'm around you. You keep the nightmares away.”

He looks surprised, devastated even. His demeanor couldn’t have been any different than if you had asked him to bare his neck and slit his own throat. Resigned, but he would still pick up the knife for you.

"Give me a minute," is his response. 

He gathers up the supplies and turns off the light on his way out of the room, plunging you into the familiar dark of your room. You're not sure what exactly he does while he’s away, but he comes back sans jacket and with his sleeves rolled up. He carries the acidic tang of cleaning chemicals. He settles back into your chair after tossing the laptop on the desk. The two of you watch each other for a moment 

"Are you okay?"

"Emotionally? I've been better. Physically? I'm fine. Just a few scratches and a bruised ego. " He's soft. You nod, reassured.  

You keep your eyes on his face. It’s lit by the soft glow of the screen. It’s become an unhealthy habit, observing this man. You drift off to sleep facing in his direction. He's there when you wake up. He's clearly gotten up at some point to shower, but he did come back to resume his sentence at your side. You greet each other and he excuses himself back to the common areas of the home.

───※ ·❆· ※───

It becomes a thing, you spending time in his presence outside of what follows your nightmares. Something changed in you after the attack. It has culminated in a strong desire to be near him, to be within the frame of his reassuring gaze. Most of the time but not always, you go with him on his surveillance rounds. You walk with him through the yard. It always feels a little like you’re two society members having a chaperoned walk, but it’s soothing. Routine. You’ve also begun sitting with him in the hours before bed. At the table or on the couch while he watches the TV. The two of you simply exist together. 

You rarely return to your room most nights, choosing instead to make your bed in the living room. If you lay just right on the couch, you can spot the bodyguard keeping watch throughout the night. His presence in the room eases your mind enough to allow you to peacefully sleep. You wish that he hasn’t become so essential. You don’t want to think about what your uncle’s return will mean.

He accepts your new routine without question. You notice that he always has the throw pillow moved from the armchair to the couch on the nights you don’t tell him you’re going to bed. There’s no blanket in the living room, but you usually wake up with his jacket of the day draped over you in lieu of one. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

One night, you and Claire manage to bully him into a game of monopoly after the nurse leaves. You’ve been made the banker because Six doesn’t trust your sister and she doesn’t trust him enough either. 

“You just landed on my boardwalk. That’s fourteen hundred bucks.” Claire announces.

Six takes his hand off the game piece and gives her a look . “I thought you owned the brown properties, not the blue ones.” 

She picks up the deeds for Boardwalk and Park Place and waves them pointedly in his direction. “Nope, fourteen hundred. Fork it over.”

Six lets out a genuinely flustered growl. You have to smother your laugh. He counts out the remainder of his money and tosses it in front of your sister. He’s woefully short and out of assets. You and Claire had run him ragged the course of the game until she managed to bankrupt you with some suspiciously underhand tactics. Looks like she got to Six as well. 

“I’m out.” He says, resigned. 

Claire stretches her arms over her head and lets out a satisfied sigh. She then slumps back into her chair in smug victory as the bodyguard extracts himself from his seat at the table to do his nightly check of the doors and windows. She leans over and taps the watch on your wrist. 

“He hasn’t won this back yet?”

“Oh… uh. No.” Your answer sounds flustered, even to you. 

Your little sister raises her eyebrows. There’s a mischievous gleam in her eyes and she opens her mouth to say something before pausing. She instead gets up and gives you a squeeze around the shoulders. You return it with a one armed hug. “‘Night, sis.” 

“‘Night. I’ll see you in the morning.” You return affectionately, letting her go. 

“‘Night, Robot!” She cheerily shouts. There’s a responding grumble from the direction of the garage. Claire flashes you a grin and a thumbs up. 

She’s in her room by the time Six finishes his checks. You’re in the middle of putting up the game when you feel the weight of his eyes on you. It’s just the two of you alone.  He sits back down at the table to help you with it. He’s like a fire against your left side. You’re surprised he didn’t sit in his usual spot at the head of the table.

He lets out a yawn that he can’t suppress. He’s more undone tonight than you’ve seen him yet. He’s wearing a t-shirt tucked into slacks today. No blazer. His hair is tousled, not smoothed into place with product like usual. You think he looks more approachable like this. Your hands touch when you both go to scrape the same pile of deeds off the table. You both freeze. You hear your heart pounding in your ears and with it muffling every other sound, you trail your fingers over the top of his. He shudders when you brush over his knuckles and skim over the dots tattooed into the meat of his thumb. He doesn’t move, staying perfectly still for your exploration. You reach the horse on his forearm and you think his breath hitches in response. You linger on the horse, using your pointer finger to trace its outline. You follow the swoop of its tail, down the outstretched hind leg. 

A soft groan from the man you’re touching makes you remember yourself. You withdraw your hand like you’ve been burnt. He twitches and jerks his own hand towards you like he’s about to reach out and stop you, but he doesn’t. You can still feel the sensation of his skin under your fingertips even as you glue your eyes to the remaining monopoly money and sort it into the tray with unsteady hands. You finish putting up the game in silence. You sleep in your own bed that night. He escorted you to your room. 

───※ ·❆· ※───

You wake up weeping the next night. You lay on the couch staring at the living room ceiling while tears involuntarily run down the sides of your face. The imprint of spider webbing glass still swirling around in your mind. You must have made some kind of noise, because Six is making his way across the room. 

You sit up and take a swipe at your face. “I’m sorry.”

"You have to let it out somehow. May I?” He asks, gesturing to the space next at your side. You nod and scoot over to give him slightly more space.

He puts the ever present laptop with its surveillance feed on the coffee table before sitting down. You feel your cushion dip. Against your better judgment, you lean against him. He’s solid. He relaxes underneath the pressure of your body. You instantly feel better. You watch the cameras with him for a while, sighing along with him as the local monkeys throw the lid off the trashcan at the curb in search of a meal. You’ll have to clean up after them after the sun rises. It’s one of the downsides to living in Hong Kong. 

You stay leaning against him for a while, but a stiffness in your neck gets you to change position. Moving slowly so he’s fully aware of your movements, you carefully lay down. He’s taken the place of your improvised throw pillow cushion. Your head is resting on his thigh. He puts his hand on your upper arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze. He leaves it resting there, heavy and warm. 

You wake up a few hours later. The sun is cascading through the living room, throwing rainbow hues on the floor thanks to the decorative glassware. You’re comfortable, too comfortable you realize. Your eyes widen in horrified surprise. You’re still using the bodyguard as a pillow. He's shifted slightly through the night, more slumped and relaxed. He's slid down further, and your face is firmly pressed against his hip now instead of his thigh. You know that you’re going to have the imprint of one of his belt loops on your cheek. His arm is loosely draped over you with his hand tucked underneath your side, a bastardized attempt at spooning. You crane your neck to catch a glimpse of his face. He’s sound asleep. 

You try to sit up without disturbing him, but his arm tightens around you and applies pressure. You’re locked into place. Your mind races. If the nurse or, worse, Claire comes into the room and sees you and Six like this… You have to get up. You put a hand on his thigh and use it as a support to push yourself up. He’s instantly awake from the overt movement. He lifts his arm off your body and lets you sit up. You turn to say something, but find him already staring. His blue eyes are focused on you, they’re sleepy and confused but quickly sharpen to alertness. He looks vaguely distressed. All you can do is offer him a smile and squeeze his leg. You stand up and he follows. Your day goes as usual.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Your nights are largely the same, except that Six seems more distant. He doesn't linger as closely or as comfortably as he did before. Your interactions with the man are more professional. It’s as though weeks, months , of getting to know each other have been erased and you’re back at the beginning. Strangers again. It hurts. You miss him like hell even though he’s right there. Your sleep is worse. It’s almost as bad as in the weeks following the incident that started them in the first place, but they’re different. Amongst the disjointed scenes, there’s a broad shouldered man with dirty blond hair walking away from you in your nightmares now. You scream for him but no sound ever escapes you, just noiseless air. You never see his face. 

You finally have enough when he escorts you to your room one night. You haven’t slept on the couch for over a week, and he’s taken that as his cue to resume seeing you to your bedroom door. You turn to face him as always in the doorway. Instead of saying goodnight like you do every night, you confront him. It even catches you by surprise.

"You're avoiding me.” He doesn’t deny it and you think that hurts more than the newfound distance itself. 

“Why?” You ask only to get more silence. He won’t look at you. 

”What did I do wrong?” Your voice trembles and you hate it. You fumble to take off his watch, to return that final tie between the two of you. He reflexively clamps down on your wrist before you can undo the clasp, pinning your hand to your own wrist. He releases his near crushing grip almost immediately, but the ghost of it lingers. Point taken. You let your arms fall to your side in a clear display of frustration, willing him to talk.

“It wasn’t you. I  overstepped. Your uncle hired me to do a job and I've stepped beyond my purview. " The confession is rough. Torn out of him. The corner of his mouth pulls down in a grimace.

You stare at him blankly. "What?"

"I allowed myself to be too close with you. I apologize. I was unprofessional." He explains, but he won't quite meet your eyes. He hasn't for a while. Not since the morning following the night you fell asleep on him.

"You were... unprofessional?” You question, absolutely lost.

"Yes. I let my feelings about you affect me and my work.. I’ve become… compromised." It's matter of fact. It’s said like he hadn’t just dropped a bomb on you.

You reach out and grab his jacket lapels. He looks at you like a beaten dog might, as though you might strike him. He makes no motion to pull himself from your grasp. You swallow hard and let out a breath.

"What about my feelings for you?" You ask. His breath catches and he shakes his head, disbelieving. 

“It would be better if you didn’t feel anything for me.” There’s heartbreak in his blue eyes even as he looks at you like there’s nothing else in the world he would rather be seeing. 

“Better for who?” Your mouth is unbearably dry as you ask the question.

“You. I’ll only jeopardize you.”

”Six…” 

You pull him down and you press your mouth against his. He's rigid and unmoving for a moment before he's kissing you like a dying man who has just been offered immortality. His hands come to rest on your back. He grips your clothing like it’s a lifeline keeping him from going under. You gently nip at his bottom lip and he gasps against your mouth, a broken little noise. He tastes like watermelon gum.

 You pull away. “Jeopardize me then.

That forces a quietly helpless laugh from him. "Now that was unprofessional." His voice is hoarse.

"I had to give you a proper example." 

"Good job. I feel exampled.”

" Good ." You say and kiss him again. He's ready for it this time. He keeps it slow. His hands gently trace your body. He's slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth against your side. You step back, walking him into your room. His breathing is ragged and he's gripping you with a desperation you can’t put your mind around. You stand there, intertwined in each other. His facial hair is rough against your skin but the burn feels good. Your hands make their way around his neck and you gently card your fingers through the short hairs at the nape of his neck. He makes a wounded sounding noise in response before he pulls away. His hand is cradling the side of your face to keep you in place while his eyes roam across your face. It's as though he’smemorizing you, imprinting the fine details of this moment into his mind. As though he’s preparing to say goodbye. He trails his fingers gently down your jaw before he lets his hand drop.

"Will you stay? Can we sleep?" You ask before he can make up a way to excuse himself.

There’s a dizzying moment of silence before his face softens. “Okay. Yeah.”

The two of you are left to navigate the awkwardness of getting ready for bed. You spin your finger around in a circle and Six immediately gets the idea. He puts his back to you while you change into your sleepwear as quickly as you can. You turn around after giving him the verbal ‘all good’ in time to see him pull off his jacket and toss it onto the desk chair he had occupied when you first realized how addicted you were becoming to him. He pulls his belt off, coils it around his hand before setting it aside. You watch him unbutton his dress shirt. His fingers work deftly to slip the buttons through the holes. He shrugs the shirt off and lays it over the jacket. He’s in his undershirt and slacks. He bends down to untie his shoes and sets them aside. He straightens up and there’s nervousness on his face. You’ve never seen him nervous before. Worried? Yes, but not nervous. 

You slide into the bed and fold down the other side of the blanket for him. You gesture for him to come lay down beside you. He approaches warily and settles in stiffly at your side. His head is on the pillow, hands overlapping on his stomach. He looks like a body in a coffin. You gently touch his hands. He jolts.

“Are you okay?” You ask softly, letting your hand rest on top of his.

“I haven’t slept in the same bed as someone since I was a child,” he admits.

“Oh… and that was…?”

“Over twenty-five years ago.”

You allow yourself a moment to grieve for this man before you pull away to shut off the bedside lamp.. You roll onto your back and flop your arms to the side. “Come here then. I’ve used you as a pillow. It’s time for me to return the favor.”

You feel the mattress shift under his weight and he hesitates, hovering over you with arms braced on either side of your body. It’s intimate, having him over you in this way. It’s enough to make you want to kiss him again.You hear him draw breath to raise some kind of concern so you just wrap your arms around him and pull him down on top of you. The weight of him pins you into the mattress. It’s comforting. He’s heavy and warm, akin to a weighted blanket. Granted, a weighted blanket wouldn’t have a muscular thigh wedged between your legs or be breathing against your neck in a way that makes you want to shiver. You fight to ignore your body’s response to him and work on easing the tension that’s holding him rigid against you. 

He gradually relaxes as you trace your hands over his back. You feel more than hear him groan when you pass over a particularly sensitive spot. The rumble feels almost like a purr against your chest. You narrow in on that location, working your fingers into the tight muscle. He allows himself to go limp on top of you, no longer stiffly trying to spare you the brunt of his mass. You run your fingers through his hair, gently scratching his scalp as a reward for letting himself relax. It earns you a low moan and an involuntary shift of his hips. You’ll have to keep that reaction in mind for later. 

Six’s breathing soon evens out. Years of exhaustion and sleep deprivation have him rapidly sinking into the oblivion of sleep when offered such a precious comfort. You fall asleep with your hand still in his hair. You have the most peaceful rest of your adult life. There’s no night terrors, no pain, no fear, no longing, you just sleep .

The bodyguard is still asleep on top of you when you wake. His breath is whistling slightly through his nose. Not quite a snore, but it’s a sound that gets a fond smile out of you. You wish you could wake up like this every morning. Just this once has given you an insatiable longing for more. You bite the inside of your cheek at the thought of the future. Uncle Fitz is due to return from his trip soon, which means the dismissal of Six from the Fitzroy home to complete whatever assignment is next on his task board. You don’t figure him for the abandoning type though. That way of thinking about him doesn’t fit in with the loyalty and thoughtfulness you’ve seen him exercise in his time spent with you and your sister. You’re sure that he’ll find a way to stay in contact after this job ends. 

You gently smooth down his hair. He shifts and buries his face against the hollow of your throat more firmly. You pause, hoping you didn’t wake him, but then you hear a sleep roughened voice say, “Don’t stop on my account.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

[22foramen]

_____________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊

┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . Personal

┊ ┊ ⋆˚  Astro Observations #1

✧. ┊      

⋆ ★

DISCLAIMER! This post is based mainly on my natal chart, personal experience and opinions, so take what resonates and leave what doesn't. I also included acquaintances' charts and their perspectives and confirmed my observations with the help of astrology databanks (celebrities' birth charts). If one (or more) of the observations in this post happen to be similar to other creators, please inform me, so I can tag their page. I am open to questions, opinions and debates. I do not own any of the photos on this post, they are just for ✨aesthetic reasons✨. Thank you for reading my post and I hope it will help you heal & find yourself💞.

#1

+18? TW!

Everyone can have an addiction, it is not limited only to the 12th house Lilith placement. But we can conclude that Lilith in the 12th house person is more inclined to get addicted to escapism than being dependent on the subject of addiction.

Let's say both the 12th and 8th house Lilith can deal with 🌽addiction. 8th house Lilith has a wound surrounding power and control, so they will search for a coping mechanism that will prove to themselves their own power and autonomy. For the 12th house Lilith, this is about a fear of perceiving the reality they are in (dissociation). Their wound encircles the toxic environment they live in, so they indulge in the most satisfactory and 'safest' type of escapism according to their circumstances.

#2

Lilith in the 12th house combined with noticeable 6th house placements can indicate prominent awareness towards their addictions or their ways to escape reality. That type of person who smokes but is fully aware of the consequences it has on their body. It makes sense because the 6th house is work, self-improvement and health-oriented (perhaps with health difficulties), therefore Lilith in the 12th house here can be a bit of a challenge in this lifetime, so they might be more motivated to heal. I think we can consider this dynamic not only for the 12th-6th houses but for all opposing houses.

#3

Having the Moon and Neptune in the same house might indicate an "illusion of comfort" in childhood, especially if the moon is badly aspected. It can be pinpointed to a confusing relationship with a parent; being gaslighted maybe. The house can represent in which area the confusion is/was. If this happens in the 10th house, there also might be a 'single mom' dynamic here, whether both parents were there or not.

#4

Taurus Rising with Scorpio Venus looks best when confident. Their eyes are very fierce when focused on their goal or task. Big cat energy🐅. They are like wild cats waiting for the right time to attack their prey 😩. 10/10 Certified mommy vibes. Period 💅

#5

Both the 22° Saturn and 22° Sun indicate a restricting father/paternal figure.

For the 22° Sun, the impact is 'more personal' and it affects their confidence and identity. These people's personalities might have been repressed in their childhood. In terms of how they have been repressed, we should check the Saturn placement and/or the Saturn Persona Chart.

For the 22° Saturn, the experience is more 'detached' in comparison with the Sun person. The individual might have a more grounded sense of self than the Sun person, but the Saturn Return period is going to be crucial. This can also imply a change in careers or finally healing something in regard to their career because Saturn rules Capricorn rules Medium-Coeli.

[genderkoolaid]

btw, do you have any posts or can you talk about how using transmen or transmascs as a "gotcha!" when discussing using bathrooms is actually a really bad argument, especially in light of what happened to nex?

i hate the way people use passing trans-men as an example, bc they almost always word it like, "you want these men in a bathroom with women?!", like a) now that they pass they've suddenly become a misogynist abuser who cis women are in danger of, b) that trans men are a danger to cis women and not vice versa, and that c) all trans men pass, when a good chunk of us cannot use the male bathrooms and we are in danger in both.

like please stop throwing us under the bus and posting one photo of a transman who can pass, esp with the way it's always implied that now that we /do/ pass we are inherently violent, or disgusting to women. idk it's pretty obvious to me the underlying rhetoric in this is that as soon as we pass we're somehow something to be feared! and i want to people to think about why they think of trans men this way!

Nex isn't the only one who has suffered because of this. Noah Ruiz, a Latino trans man, was beaten by cis men for using the women's bathroom in accordance with campground policy, after a cis woman saw him and became upset. & in Australia, Onyx John was attacked by cis girls trying to bash him in the bathroom, part of a larger bullying campaign which led to his suicide. (Trans men&mascs are also victimized in the men's bathroom as well: see Caesar Lewis, Tobi Yandle, and this California trans boy).

Honestly, its very representative of how many activists relate to trans men&mascs that they do not see the danger in forcing visibily trans people into the women's bathroom in this political climate. The assumption that trans men are emotionless beings incapable of being hurt is one based both in patriarchal views of manhood & in the way transmascs are not seen as valuable or attention-worthy by society. People love throwing around images of bulked up guys with huge beards as a gotcha, and never question the idea that trans men are invulnerable to violence physically and emotionally.