#and what I THOUGHT was a clear lemon-yellow

[marlynnofmany]

Oh hey, fun fact I just remembered: at the edges of your vision, you can see motion but not color.

Seems wrong, doesn’t it? There’s no black-and-white area to the sides. But that’s because your brain guesses and fills it in.

Here’s the test:

Get some squares of colored paper, or anything else that’s all the same size but different colors. Felt pens, DVD cases, whatever. Pick one without looking (or have a friend do it for you.)

Look straight forward, holding the thing out to the side and behind you, so you can’t quite see it yet. Move it forward until you do. Wiggle as necessary.

When you first see something moving, you won’t be able to say what color it is, and it will be maddening. You can guess! But it’s just a guess! Then when you look, you may be completely wrong!

It’s a fun game for parties, and blowing your friends’ minds.

[paperultra]

aries and the turtle.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,169 words Warnings: None

asterism (noun): a group of stars; a constellation; a cluster of stars

The first thought that comes to Sanji’s mind when he sees you curled up on the kitchen floor, rummaging through the box of herbs and spices, is that you’re the single most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on.

“Darling,” he says softly, leaning against the doorframe and smiling a bit when you startle, “you could’ve woken me up if you wanted a midnight snack.”

“O-Oh! Um.” Your voice colors the gentle calm of night into something warmer – and like always, he’s drawn to it like a moth to a flame, walking over and squatting down next to you as you scramble to put back a jar of paprika. “I’m sorry, Sanji, I – er, well, um …”

“What are you looking for? I’ll help you.”

Under the yellow glow of the lantern, you seem to shrink. You duck your head and mumble into the collar of your pretty nightshirt. “That chamomile and lavender tea you made a couple nights ago …” you begin hesitantly. “I wanted to make some.” Your voice quiets further. “I can’t sleep.”

Sanji frowns, angling his head to catch a glimpse of your face. You do look a little more haggard than normal, your eyelids heavy, your shoulders burdened. His heart aches. How long had you laid in your hammock, tossing and turning, until you couldn’t stand it anymore?

“I see,” he murmurs. “Let’s make that tea right away, then, shall we?”

Sanji quickly finds the flowers and some lemon rinds he had sun-dried last week. You insist on helping at least a little bit despite his protests for you to just relax, fetching two teacups and setting some water on the stove to boil as he measures the right amount of each ingredient to put into the infuser.

Once the water is ready, steam billowing up past your heads and to the ceiling, he pours it into the teapot and covers it to steep.

(You don’t say anything while the two of you wait, and although Sanji yearns to coax a smile and a sweet conversation from you, he contents himself with the silence as well, which is just as sweet. You sneak glances at him every once in a while, though. He knows because he does the same, and the attention sends a thrill through his chest.)

Time passes. He pours the tea – first for you, then for him.

“Tell me when.” The silence breaks once more as Sanji spoons some honey into your cup.

“That’s good.”

He stirs the tea up, hands it to you. You blow across the top of it and then take a sip as he watches attentively.

“How does the madam like it?” he asks.

You exhale and meet his eyes for a split second before quickly looking away. A small smile touches your lips. “It’s perfect,” you reply from behind the cup. “Thank you, Sanji.”

Warmth stains his cheeks a gentle pink.

“The sky is clear tonight,” he ventures hopefully as he adds two teaspoons of honey for himself. He picks up his cup and gestures at the open door. “Stars and tea pair well together, if you have an appetite for it.”

You bite your bottom lip. His gaze immediately darts down to it, and he swallows, throat suddenly dry.

“Sure,” you whisper.

And so Sanji gains another precious sliver of time with you. Elbows resting on the railing, hot tea and your presence protecting him from the cold, he stands out on the deck of the Going Merry and tilts his head back to look up at the sky.

He knows how much you love the stars. They are one of the few topics you can talk about without your usual shyness, and he thinks of you every time he sees them, pinpricks of pure light shining through the darkness, guiding weary sailors home. Sometimes he thinks you must have been one yourself, carried down from the heavens. Ethereal. Out of reach.

“This time of year,” you say, and Sanji turns his attention over to the stars reflected in your eyes, “you can see my constellation.”

“Yours?” he questions.

“Yes. Those three stars over there.” Your arm stretches out to point at something on the left, your finger tracing an arc in the sky. “In my home village, parents dedicate their newborns to a constellation three days after birth. Mine dedicated me to the turtle.”

A turtle. That fits you incredibly well, he thinks to himself fondly, considering your quiet tenacity. “How come?”

“Turtles represent good luck and a long life.”

“I see. Well, do you think you’ve had good luck so far in life?”

You hum thoughtfully, looking down into your tea.

“I think so,” you say after some time, hushed. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

A chuckle escapes him. “I would argue that you’re the one who’s brought good luck to us, sweetheart.”

You bite back a smile and whisper a small ‘oh’ as he gently bumps your shoulder with his own. Even now, you’re unused to compliments, but no matter; he’ll praise you at every turn until you finally realize you deserve every word of it.

There’s a brief period of silence before he asks, “What do you think my constellation would be?”

“Your constellation?” It doesn’t take long at all before you reply, pointing upward into a spread of stars that he could never even begin to puzzle out, “The ram. Some call it Aries.”

“What does it mean?”

This question seems to fluster you. You cough and stammer for a few seconds. He sips his tea, the beverage sweet and floral on his tongue as he waits.

“Rams … are artists at heart,” you finally say, glancing over at him. Your eyes, normally wary and somber, glitter. “They’re strong and passionate, but also gentle and kind.”

Oh.

Sanji can feel a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. God. Surely, you’ll be the death of him, saying something like that so honestly and with eyes that look like that. He’d move heaven and earth for you if you asked.

“I’ll dedicate my life to living up to those qualities,” he breathes once he can speak again. “Just as much as you’ll live up to yours.”

You take a sharp breath.

“You already do,” he hears you whisper.

And Sanji truly, truly cannot resist anymore.

Your name leaves his lips. He reaches out, hand departing from the dying heat of the teacup and seeking out yours.

You do not pull away when his fingertips brush your cool skin over the railing; instead, you let him turn your hand over until palm touches palm, until the spaces between his fingers are filled with your own and his heart beats to the rhythm of yours.

Sanji squeezes your hand, and every cell in his body begs to falter and fall at your feet.

You rest your head on his shoulder.

The tea cools. But the stars remain as brilliant as ever, and your hand stays warm in his, and everything – everything is beautiful.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

fruit stand

words: 1.2k

warnings: none, just very cute rafey <3

“rafe.”

“what is it rose?” he asks, looking up from his phone.

“i need you to pick up some fruit at the stand down the street. i need two watermelons.”

rafe rolls his eyes, resisting the urge to tell her to do it herself. there is some big dinner party tonight, and ward and rose have been overly stressed about it to the point it’s driving him crazy.

“alright, i’ll go now.” rafe stands up with a stretch, considering bringing wheezie long for a moment, but when he peeks in her room, he sees her nose deep in a book and decides to leave her alone.

rafe shoves his hands in his pockets as he walks down the street. he’s seen it briefly when driving by, the small fruit stand positioned on the corner of his block. he would think that the other people in the community wouldn’t want someone selling there, but he guesses that having easy access to fresh fruit makes up for it.

“hello there!” your voice brings rafe out of his thoughts.

he can’t speak. you’re like a ray of sunlight, bright smile on your face, dressed in a warm yellow sundress and sandals, hair down and slightly curly. you look effortlessly beautiful, and rafe has never felt this way just looking at a woman before.

“what can i get for you today?” you ask, gesturing to the fruit in front of you.

“i-” rafe clears his throat. “just two watermelons.”

“great! we have two sizes, i’m guessing the bigger one because you want two?”

rafe has no idea what rose wants, but he nods quickly anyways. “yeah.”

“alright, great! that’ll be $16. if you have cash, you can drop it in that box, we don’t take card but i have venmo, cashapp, and paypal on that sign.”

rafe quickly scans the sign in his venmo app, sending you the money. you don’t even check that it’s gone through before you’re handing him the watermelon, each now netted in a red mesh to make it easier for him to carry.

“oh gosh, that’s heavy carrying both. do you want to use my cart to take it back home? you can drop it back off any time before 6 today.”

“no, i got it.” rafe doesn’t want you thinking he’s weak as he carries one watermelon in each hand, hoping that the workout he did earlier today means his muscles are on display.

“alright!” you say, flashing him another smile that makes his knees buckle. “have a great day!” “you-you too.” rafe walks away, replaying the entire interaction in his head and cursing himself. he’s never had a problem talking to women before, even ones he finds attractive like you.

he spends the rest of the evening, all throughout the dinner party thinking of you, and he swears the watermelon tastes sweeter than normal.

--

“hello again!” you smile at rafe, recognizing the handsome man who visited your fruit stand only a couple of days ago.

“hi.” rafe smiles back, eyes quickly flipping from your face to the fruit in front of you.

“what can i get you this time…” you trail off, hoping he will provide you with his name.

“rafe.”

you smile. you’ve never heard the name before, but it fits him perfectly. “rafe.” 

“just some strawberries.” rafe picks up the box. he doesn’t even particularly like strawberries, but he would use any excuse to come back to see you again. he hopes it’s not creepy, that you just see him as a returning customer, not one with an embarrassing crush on you.

“great! that’ll be $4.” 

rafe thought ahead and brought cash this time, stuffing a $10 bill into the cardboard box.

“do you want change?” you ask upon seeing that he paid double the price.

“no, it’s a tip.” rafe smiles, hoping it comes off as genuine. he easily forgets how much smaller amounts of money means to people who aren’t as fortunate as him.

“well thank you, rafe.” you say, “i’m y/n, by the way.” you reach across and shake his hand. rafe swears he feels a slight zap at your first time touching each other.

--

“i’m going to go pick up some lemons.” wheezie says as she walks through the living room.

“wait!” rafe says. “at the fruit stand down the street?”

“yeah.” wheezie rolls her eyes like it’s obvious.

“i’ll come with you.” rafe says, getting up and smoothing out any wrinkles on his shirt.

wheezie gives him a weird look. “why? i’m 13, i don’t need you to babysit me.”

“shut up, let’s go.” rafe says, butterflies building in his stomach at the thought of seeing you again. he tried his best to find you on instagram, but with no last name, he had no luck.

wheezie rolls her eyes but lets rafe walk with her. 

“hey rafe!” your voice has him seeing stars, giving you a little wave.

“this is my little sister, wheezie.” he introduces her.

“hello there, wheezie! what can i get you?” you ask as she scans the fruit, smiling when she lands on the yellow citrus. “just some lemons!” 

“making lemonade?” you guess, and wheezie nods as she inspects the fruit.

“hold on, i’ve got some bigger ones down here.” you kneel down under the fruit stand, searching for the lemons that you were saving, looking too good to just put out.

wheezie looks up to rafe with a smirk. “that’s why you wanted to come” at least she whispers it.

“shut up.” rafe whispers out as you pop back up, holding a bag of lemons. “perfect!” wheezie says, reaching across to take it. wheezie goes to get money out of her pocket but rafe stops her, not wanting you to think that he wouldn’t pay for his little sister. he quickly scans the sign and transfers you the money.

“thanks so much wheezie!” you say with a smile, before looking at rafe, and he swears a faint blush comes over your cheeks and your voice drops an octave as you say “thank you rafe.”

--

rafe heads back to the fruit stand around 6pm, hoping that was your closing time. he sees you starting to load up fruit into the back of a pick up truck for the night, and he hurries his step up.

“let me help you.” rafe says, and you startle at his unexpected appearance.

“oh, god, rafe, you scared me.” you press a hand to your chest.

“sorry.” rafe laughs gently, you’re surprised face was just as adorable as every other face he’s seen you make. “you can hand me that crate.” you say, and quickly fall into an easy rhythm, rafe handing things up to you while you stand in the truck bed, organizing them to get everything to fit. it halves the time it usually takes you to clean up.

“all done!” you say, accepting rafe’s hand down. you take the last couple things, like your open sign and money box, and throw them in the passenger seat.

“hey- um…” you come to stand back in front of rafe as he struggles to get his words out. “i was wondering if you wanted to go grab dinner? with me?”

you’re only slightly surprised by his question, rafe hasn’t exactly been hiding his attraction to you. “yeah, yes.” you nod. “that sounds great.”

rafe smiles and lets out a breath of relief.

[kosmokai]

okay wait.. LEMME COOK. (this is a lil snippet of a fic i was thinking of.. lmk if u want me to make a full thing to it cause idk if i like it) alsoo thought of this while listening to chase atlantic’s tidal wave, so that’s probably what it’s gonna be called ‼️

nsfw under the cut, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

so, beomgyu is at the beach with a few close friends, just for a casual outing. his friends wandered off to do something, surfing if he heard correctly, but he couldn’t be bothered to learn so he eventually found himself at the bar.

as soon as he walked in, he caught a glimpse of the prettiest girl he had ever seen… cute little two piece, skirt at the bottom, crocheted bra at the top, make up and hairstyle cute with a few accessories to top it all off was what she had on.. she— no, you, were beautiful.

of course, after seeing you, beomgyu chose to walk over to where you where, and sat a few seats away so it wasn’t… weird or anything. you saw him soon after and said hello, taking his order.

“you guys have anything interesting? something i wouldn’t find somewhere else?” you’re usual response got caught in your through as your pretty, pink lip gloss covered lips closed. “mm… well, we have a new cocktail we made a few days ago, but it’s still known beta so i’m not sure it would taste the best-” “i’ll have that. what’s it called?”

you smiled, really getting a good look at who was in front of you. his blonde locks, fluffy and covering his eyebrows, relaxed and calm expression.. he was handsome. pretty, even. but that’s besides the point. “tidal wave. cause it’s blue and stuff, and it has a kinda beach-y taste, if that makes sense. just wanted to tap into the environment, i guess!”

you smiled, taking the crinkled ten dollar note from him, smiling even more when he refused to accept the change. after a few minutes, you placed his cocktail in front of him, and he was speechless.

to sum it up, it was blue hue at the top and clear at the bottom, in a shallow like glass. there was a lemon and a little yellow striped umbrella inside, with some— uh, peach coloured shaved ice at the side of the top to resemble sand. on the opposite side along with the lemon and umbrella, was a piece of ice, somehow shaped like an ocean wave.

“it’s pretty..” he muttered a little loudly, not noticing your smug smile. pretty drink served by a pretty girl? that’s probably the first time he’s gotten the best of both worlds in one night. but little did you know, he was about to rock yours.

“thank you. enjoy!” as you were about to walk away, he shouted a little loudly. “keys! your keys.” you had left them on the counter next to him, after having to unlock the ice room for his drink. “oh my god, thank you! thanks for you i won’t get fired today.” he smiled, more of a smirk, and spoke. “don’t mention it,—“

he stopped, realising he didn’t catch your name. “oh, _______.” “pretty name for a pretty girl.. who serves pretty drinks.” you turned back to him, stopping your attempt at walking away so you didn’t have to stare into his eyes again. only because you’d find yourself staring.

“you are..?” “beomgyu. or gyu. both work.” he started sipping at his drink, a satisfied look on his face that set ease at yours. “cute. call me to clean up your drink, we can talk more.” you paused as you walked away, “gyu.” a wink flashed against your eye as you finally walked off, leaving him to smirk dumbly.

if he wasn’t feeling flattered, he would’ve been thinking about all the ways he could have you, take care, or rather, fuck you so well that you’d flush out, creating a tidal wave of your own.. right between your pretty thighs.

but oh well, guess he’ll think about that after finishing his cocktail.

THOUGHTS?? might make a whole fic abt it if u guys want :3

[zelphin124]

SeasonTale - Chapter 6

I'm not super proud of this one... and it took forever to finally sit down and write it, but I hope you enjoy! There will be a poll at the end, so look for that as well. Here we go!

Masterpost

~o0o~

School was boring now. 

Summer couldn’t bring himself to pay attention in his education. There was no joy in learning anymore. There was no joy in… well, anything. He had lost all motivation and will to keep going. 

But he wasn’t sad either. 

He was confused, mostly. After the procedure yesterday, he didn’t even enjoy throwing the ball up for himself anymore. When the kids played without him at recess, he didn’t feel sad either. 

Every bit of emotion was gone. 

Although Summer wanted to hate it… he couldn’t bring himself to. 

He twirled one of his pens in his hand, watching it fly in different directions before the bell rang. Summer had never packed his bags so fast; and he planned to get out of there as soon as he could. 

“Summer,” Summer!Alphys inquired. “Could you come here real quick?” 

“Ooh Lemon is in trouble,” some of the kids laughed as they ran outside. 

Summer couldn’t even bring himself to care about what they said. 

“Hey, you had trouble paying attention in class today. Is everything alright?” The teacher asked, sitting at her desk and motioning for Summer to follow suit. 

Summer obeyed, but he had to adjust so the sun didn’t block his vision. “Yeup,” he nodded. “Everything is just dandy.” 

Summer!Alphys glanced at the desk, her fingers fidgeting with one another. Summer could tell she was worried. 

And he envied that. 

The way he saw her emotions, and the way they wrestled within her. He wanted that again. He wanted… He…

He couldn’t figure out what he wanted. He was tired, and sleep sounded amazing. It was one of the only ways to get rid of the nightmare that he lived in, but he couldn’t care enough to go and take a nap. 

He existed. That’s all he could bring himself to do. 

“You know that friend I was telling you about? Who wanted to play catch?” His teacher spoke gently. “He’s here, if you wish to play ball.” 

“Sure, that sounds fun,” Summer shrugged, smirking and digging through his backpack. He pulled out the red ball and squished it in his hands. 

It didn’t shine like it used to. 

“Honey,” Summer!Alphys’ gaze locked with the skeleton’s. “Do you… do you have anything at home that you would wish to bring if you were gone for a long time?” 

Summer looked away and stared at the red ball in his hands. “Nah, just this red ball.” 

“Okay,” She got up, brushing off her bright yellow skirt. “He’s outside.” 

Summer bounded toward the door, carrying his only toy in his hands. He opened the door and looked around. Most of who he saw were others in the school, but he saw someone who he didn’t recgonize before. His eyes squinted at the glorious light the figure held with him. 

He was a goat monster of some sorts. His horns blended in with the magnificent crown on his head that glimmered like the stars. HIs yellow eyes were dazzling, and they bore such kindness within them. 

Summer thought his cape was dope; its sleek white fabric on the outside completely sealed the night sky inside of the cape, that radiating hundreds of stars and galaxies within it. It changed whenever the creature moved. The only way Summer could compare it to was seeing the sun and stars in the middle of space. 

The rest of his clothes were made up of the silky white fabric, with dozens of gold accessories scattered across his body. Chains connected various parts of his wear, and the two shoulder guards made his figure look broad and powerful. It was clear that he was older than most of the adults that Summer saw, but it came with a lot more wisdom. 

In his hand rested a long, shining weapon. It had three sides and a pointy thing down the middle. Summer recalled that it was a type of spear that the Asgore monster formed. As a matter of fact, he looked very much like an Asgore. 

But the skeleton couldn’t figure out what season he was from. 

“Hello young one,” his voice roared like a thousand lions, but was as gentle as the morning breeze. “You must be Summer Sans?” 

Summer nodded, his attention fully focused on the monster before him. 

“My name is Solstice,” he smiled, giving a soft bow. “Do you want to play catch?” 

The kid nodded some more, looking at the red ball and tossing it toward Solstice. 

Summer watched as Solstice’s eyes gleamed with delight as he caught the ball. The goat tossed it from hand to hand before tossing it back towards him. 

Summer faked a smile as he barely caught the ball. He’d never have a ball tossed back to him, so the angle he usually caught the ball didn’t help him. 

“Oh, I did not mean to throw it so hard,” Solstice sighed as he approached the half-fallen over child. “Here, mind if I take your hands?” 

“You’re… you’re not going to hurt me, right?” 

“Of course not,” Solstice shook his head before looking up at Alphys, who had come out of the building to watch. Summer watched as they communicated with no words, but he couldn’t figure out what they were saying. 

For the next hour, Solstice took the time to teach Summer how to catch and throw the ball better and more efficiently. Summer listened to every word and felt a glimmer of hope, despite is apathetic state. They tossed the ball back and forth; the only time they stopped was when Summer accidentally threw the ball into the twisted trees, which Solstice didn’t hesitate to get it out. They rotated a couple of times to keep playing in the shade, as the sun was unbearable in the afternoon. 

While they played, Summer finally had enough time to notice the large ocean not far from his school. He caught the ball and pointed towards it. “What’s that?” 

“That is the Tidal Sea, my boy,” Solstice smiled. “It contains beautiful waters and coves for miles under its surface. No one knows what’s on the other side.” 

“Can we go there?” Summer asked, curious. 

“Perhaps we could-” Solstice paused as Alphys motioned toward him. He sighed, kneeling down. His gaze had changed, and it unsettled Summer. 

Why did his mood change? Did I do something wrong? Summer began to worry. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you I’ll do better-” 

“Buddy, hey, hey,” Solstice smiled at him. “You did nothing wrong, I’m just really concerned for you.” Solstice took his hand and tilted Summer’s face to observe it. “Did Summer!Gaster do this to you?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Summer shuddered, remembering how it was done. “But it’s fine, I don’t want to talk about it-” 

“It’s clear you don’t want this to happen again to you, huh?” 

Summer stared at Solstice. How- How did he know? He thought, shaking his head in response. He would do anything to get away from his dad at this point. He remembered that he cared for his dad…

But that feeling wasn’t there anymore, just like the rest of them. All he wanted to do was avoid physical pain, but he couldn’t find the will to run away again. 

“I’m with the rebellion,” Solstice informed. “I save many people like you from your dad and others who are cruel like him. If you allow me to, I’ll make sure you’ll never have to go through an experiment like that again.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“There’s a place in the mountains that we hold as refuge, we hide there so we can plan our next action of justice, and restore the kingdoms to their former glory.” Solstice explained. “Life doesn’t have to be like this.” 

The sun started shining on Summer’s face, warming his bones. “That’s a lot of big words,” Summer smirked, thinking for a bit. Life doesn’t… it doesn’t have to be this way? 

“You will learn them all in due time,” Solstice reassured. “I plan to teach you a lot of things.” 

“We don’t have much time,” Alphys ran out from the school. “He’s coming, you must decide quickly.” 

Solstice locked eyes with the boy again. “This might be the only time I get to speak with you. I wish to help you. Come with me and I’ll keep you safe. If you don’t like it, you can come back. Help us restore SeasonTale to justice.” 

Summer could hear traces of his father’s footsteps. He recgonized them anywhere, for whenever he was near, bad things happened. He looked worriedly at the school door before grabbing onto Solstice’s sleeve. 

“Please,” he begged. “I don’t want to be in another experiment.” 

“Say no more, my boy,” Solstice hoisted Summer up on his back. “Hold on, we are going to get you out of here.” 

“He’ll look for me,” Summer shivered as Solstice booked it into the forest, the sun becoming brighter and brighter as they went. 

“Don’t worry, he- he won’t find us-” Solstice gasped between breaths. 

“Where can we go that he won’t?” 

There was a moment of interrupted silence before Solstice answered. He paused once he reached the ocean shore, whistling into the sky. He turned around and pointed inland. “You see those mountains way over there?”

Summer’s eyes widened, seeing the mountains he saw in his dreams. One covered with white shades and clouds that covered the sun. “Yeah?” 

The skeleton’s eyes widened even more when he saw a huge creature land from the sky, folding its wings in and snorting out a cloud of smoke. It’s head was similar to a gaster blaster, and his wings and structure were all bone, expect for the inside of its wings and belly, which shined like the night sky. 

“Is that a dragon?!” Summer gasped, bewildered that the creatures even existed. 

“Yes, and you can pet him later,” Solstice walked toward the dragon and hoisted himself onto it. “Those mountains, we will be going there.” 

Summer was too distracted by the dragon to pay attention, but one thing he did know, was that this was far more exciting than anything his dad did with him. 

As the dragon took off into the air, Summer gasped and held tight onto the dragon’s neck, looking down at the ground. Everything became smaller as clouds brushed against the child’s face. Summer could see the entire landscape of the known land, including all the other kingdoms he never got to see before. 

“Soon, all this land will be free from the Gaster’s hand,” Solstice explained as he steered the dragon towards the colder area of SeasonTale, up in the mountains. “And you can help rule it all.” 

“Really?!” Summer smiled as something jolted inside him. 

The goat smiled, sighing with relief. 

“I promise.”

~o0o~

[avenirdelight]

Level Up

Mason Mount (ft. Declan Rice)

Mason thinks that breaking up with her was the wrong decision. She says they can’t make the same mistakes if they get back together. [Inspired by “Level Up” by Sigrid]

She hated sprinkles. She never wanted them in her doughnuts or cakes. She hated lemon and orange scented air fresheners. She loved the smell of new books and petrichor. She loved cheesy romantic-comedy movies, always spent her time watching one of those movies whenever she was feeling stressed.

As Mason lay in the cold bed, staring up to the marble off-white ceiling, he found himself listing the things she liked and disliked. He’d brought his nieces to their favourite doughnut place earlier today, and the youngest couldn’t stop asking for the pink doughnut with pink sprinkles. And the first thing that had popped up in his mind was how she, his now ex-girlfriend, hated sprinkles.

Mason had thought that separation was the best decision. Even worse, he’d thought that it was what he wanted. Months of miscommunication and misunderstanding, he’d grown tired of it and wanted it to end, thinking that they just weren’t meant for each other.

But he’d been sleeping in the guest room at his sister’s house and every day, he felt the bed getting colder. It annoyed him that he knew that tomorrow morning he would wake up with a groan, because he would expect to see her beside him when he woke up and wouldn’t find her, just like the days before.

She still lived inside his mind. And maybe… Maybe he had made the wrong decision.

—

A scornful laugh pierced Mason’s ears as he felt his heart slowly sinking. He was paying Declan a visit at his house. His mind was getting more and more clouded, he’d thought that sharing about this matter to Declan could clear his mind a little bit. But his best friend was not really helping.

“I told you to really think about it, mate. Before you make the decision, not after,” Declan commented as he aimed for the yellow-coloured pool ball, preparing to take the shot. He’d invited Mason to play pool, thinking that it could ease Mason up a little bit. “It’s been what? Four weeks?”

“Yeah, four weeks of hell.” Mason watched as Declan took the shot. The yellow ball went down into the corner pocket.

“So is this the reason why you haven’t moved out of the house and kept staying at your sister’s? ‘Cause you wish that you wouldn’t need to move out?” It felt like Declan was reading him. But Mason didn’t even have the courage to admit that he’d been making excuses so he could postpone the moving out part as long as he could. 

“I don’t know, mate, honestly, I don’t f*cking know.” He shook his head ever so slightly, walking around the table. “All I know right now is that I’ve made the wrong decision.”

“How do you know?”

Mason took the shot, but the ball hit the cushion and bounced. Nothing in his life was going well right now, even playing pool. Yes, his football definitely could do better, but his mind had been troubled by his personal life and it was affecting how he played on the pitch.

“‘Cause I’ve realised that I haven’t fallen out of love. Not even halfway there,” Mason answered, letting out a long, heavy sigh. He looked up and met Declan’s questioning eyes. “I tried to remember all the reasons I like her, and the list is still longer than the things I don’t like about her. I’ve always liked her as a person. I still do.”

Declan puffed out a breath from his mouth. He couldn’t deny that the mood was getting bleak. He genuinely felt sorry for Mason. “Last time you said she didn’t understand you,” Declan tried to remind his best friend.

Mason gritted his teeth. “Maybe that’s what I wanted to believe,” he shrugged. “Maybe I tried to convince myself that I didn’t understand her either but, mate– Who could possibly know her better than I do?”

“You tell me.” He slightly raised his eyebrows, giving Mason a half shrug.

“I don’t know, I just… I wish I had tried harder to see eye to eye with her again.”

“Well, regret is always at the end, innit?” He said as he tapped his fingers against his cue. Mason nodded to agree. “Just give it a thought again, mate. Make sure you’re ready to be fully committed. ‘Cause this is not only about your feelings and what you want. This is about hers too.”

—

The dark, cloudy, and rumbling sky reflected how it was inside Mason’s mind. It felt even worse because he practically could hear his heart thumping against his ears. She leaned herself against the window frame with a mug in her hand, looking out to the backyard. She hadn’t been saying anything for minutes and the silence was getting deafening, even suffocating. Everything Mason wanted to say was at the tip of his tongue, but he tried to be patient, giving her time to think. So he just sat back on the couch and waited.

He’d confessed to her that he regretted his decision and asked if they could get back together. He’d poured his heart out, coming out clean, told everything he’d been feeling and thinking—including the part where he couldn’t let her go and wouldn’t be able to see her with someone else. He’d figured that this time round he needed to be honest, or more honest, because it only could work out if he was honest about his feelings, not only to her but also to himself.

“Where do you think it went wrong?” She broke the silence. Her voice was low and calm but the question still caught Mason off guard. He could barely see her face through the reflection on the window.

They’d gone through this conversation before and it wasn’t easy, but if this was what it took to get her back, Mason was more than willing to go through it again.

“We didn’t communicate. We just let our problems pile up, and didn’t even take the chances to sort them out,” he answered. “I didn’t do my parts. When things didn’t go right with us, I just… Gave up so soon. At some point I stopped trying.”

She sighed, and it sounded heavy. “It’s silly to think about it now. We only wanted the easiest way,” she said, before taking a sip on her drink. “I mean, I did just the same. I let my mind clutter up and always waited for it to get worse… Wasted so much of our time.”

Mason dropped his gaze to his untouched mug on the coffee table. The corners of his lips twitched into a small sheepish smile. “Yeah… But this is not easy either.”

“It’s even harder,” she chortled.

She turned around on her feet and then leaned back to the window frame. Her eyes met Mason’s before she shifted it to her mug; her fingers traced the edges of the mug.

“It’s going to take a lot of work, you know, if we… If we get back together,” she mumbled. “We can’t make the same mistakes. We can’t choose the easiest way again. We have to get through the struggles.”

“I know.” Mason nodded. “I mean, it’s the only way for us to level up, innit?”

Her smile rose. She shifted her gaze up again and met Mason’s; this time she didn’t look away. Mason smiled back at her and before he could even stop himself, he stood up. Taking a deep breath, he walked closer to her and her eyes followed him until he stopped on the other side of the big window frame. He leant himself on his side and folded his arms in front of his chest.

“I didn’t know how I ended up with the conclusion that I didn’t want us anymore, didn’t want you anymore, but I was so wrong,” Mason said. “I asked too much from you when I didn’t even give enough, and I’m sorry.”

Mason looked out the window. He thought that it was gonna rain but the sky was actually getting clearer. He took a deep breath and could feel his chest feeling less heavy.

“Everything I see, everywhere I go… I always get reminded of you. I saw doughnuts with sprinkles and I thought of you,” Mason chortled.

“Sprinkles?” She glanced up at him. Her eyebrows were furrowed.

“Yeah, you hate sprinkles.” Mason lol shrugged. A faint smile started to form on her lips, like she was tickled because he suddenly brought up sprinkles to the conversation. “I remember the first time I learned about you hating sprinkles and I was like, what? How could anyone hate sprinkles?” He couldn’t hold back his smile either; his heart was getting warmer as he started reminiscing about those early months in their relationship.

“Sprinkles are awful,” she commented. “They get stuck on your teeth, they just taste like sugar, they ruin everything.” Mason had only heard it from her so many times before and honestly, he’d missed listening to her express the hatred she had for the confectionary. He couldn’t help but let out some chuckles as she sipped on her drink with a smile on her face.

“The point is, I loved learning about you and maybe that’s what I need to do. To learn about you again.“

“And you’d love to do that?”

“Yeah, absolutely.” Mason nodded. “I need one more chance. One more chance to do better,” Mason said, staring at the side of her face that was partly covered by her hair because she was staring down at her mug. “I didn’t— I didn’t hold you, kiss you, love you like I really wanted to. I didn’t love you enough. I’d like to try again. Make it right.”

Mason noticed her nodding her head ever so slightly; his heart jumped, for a second he thought that she was saying yes, before realising that she was just gesturing that she understood. She stepped aside to put her mug on a nearby table before leaning on the window frame again, facing Mason this time.

Mason’s gaze was fixated at her, but she looked out the window, hugging herself with her arms. She put on her thinking face again and with each passing second, Mason kept hoping that she felt the same. He hoped that he wasn’t the only one believing that they could still save this relationship. They’d been through a lot for the past three years and it was really silly that they’d ended it just like that.

“Maybe we just needed a break… You know, to see everything better,” she said. “‘Cause now that I’ve spent so many hours in this house alone, thinking that it was all really over and you wouldn’t come back, I’ve realised that I didn’t appreciate you enough. And I’m sorry.”

She turned to him, her eyes were apologetic. Mason gave her a small, reassuring smile.

“We need to get through the struggles, Mase, together, just like we used to,” she said, staring deep into Mason's eyes. “Can’t waste any chances anymore, can’t sweep anything under the carpet, can’t not be honest. We have to do so much better.”

“Yeah, I know, I know. We will, we’ll do better.”

“Okay…”

The silence followed. But unlike earlier, this one felt more comfortable; Mason could feel his heart comfortably pounding in his chest. They both took the time to just look at each other, simply enjoying each other’s company. This was the first time in a while that they looked at each other without any bitter feeling tugging at their hearts. Mason was trying not to get teared up as he felt the relief slowly seeping in, because they might have come into an agreement here.

“Just make it clear…” Mason mumbled. “We’re getting back together, aren’t we?”

He couldn’t miss the faint smile that rose on her face and his heart skipped a beat at that. “Yeah, we are,” she answered.

“Okay, just making sure.” He shrugged, giving her a cheeky smile, which drew a little giggle from her.

Mason finally took a step closer and when he did, she bit her bottom lip and dropped her gaze—something that she sometimes did when she felt nervous. He was feeling nervous too, and the feeling was familiar because there had been a period of time where he’d always been nervous when it came to her, all because he’d been so in love with her.

He stopped when he was close enough to feel her warmth and gently took a hold of her forearms. Her eyes darted up and eventually met his eyes again, her eyes were glistening with tears. He gently pulled her closer before opening his arms, and without saying another word, she fell into his embrace.

Mason wasted no time wrapping his arms around her. He held her tight, the scent of her hair filled his lungs and that was the moment he realised how much he’d missed her. He hugged her like how he’d always wanted to, like how he was supposed to. He had already begun to try to make it right.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he said.

“I’ve missed you too,” she mumbled against his shoulder. She held onto him like she would never let him go and Mason got reminded of how perfectly she fitted in his arms, telling him that they undoubtedly still belonged to each other.

“We’re gonna go through this together, okay?”

Mason felt her nodding her head. He thought that she might need this reassurance, letting her know that he would always be by her side this time, he wouldn’t run away again like he’d used to, and he wouldn’t let her do the same.

He loosened his arms and searched for her face. He brushed the stray hands off her face and held it gently, stroking her cheek with his thumb. It was like he was falling in love again, because a thought crossed his mind, that she was so beautiful, and it almost took his breath away.

“You’re so pretty,” he mumbled.

She burst into giggles as she playfully slapped his shoulder. “Okay, behave, now.”

He shyly grinned and took the opportunity to quickly lean in and brush his lips against hers. She gladly welcomed him and kissed him back. He still remembered their first kiss and this was just how it had felt like—soft and gentle, excited but nervous. She smiled between the kisses and Mason believed she’d done it too back then.

This was definitely worth fighting for, Mason would always remind himself of that. It would be a shame if they just gave everything all up without a fight. They had so much to fix and it wouldn’t be easy but they were ready to commit to it, because they knew that only when they went through the struggles together that they could level up.

—

it’s been a while since the last time i wrote for mason! hope you guys enjoyed it! comments and feedback are always welcomed! thank you for reading<3

My Masterlist🤍

[oh-soo-diabolik]

complexion of god | chapter one

warning: sexual themes, typical vampire violence.

characters are aged up. [college AU]

“Subaru, why don’t you ever invite me over? We’ve been friends since our first year of school and I am yet to meet your siblings.” [yn] twiddles her thumbs, patiently waiting for him to speak. His usual cold demeanor did no justice in soothing the hiccup of anxiety brushing her chest.

“Why do you want to meet them so damn badly? They’re shitty people.” He mutters in response, smoothing out the dampened joint in his hand. “Pass me a light.” [yn] hums, handing him her favorite lighter, the one he happened to give her many years ago.

“You still have this old thing?” He mutters, eyeing the lighter, the same one he mistaken for makeup. “Still don’t see why they shaped it like lipstick.” He ponders, sparking the joint a lite.

Moments like these were one of her favorites, his little attention to detail pleased her. In contrast to his usual cold, distant self. The same cold, distant man who hadn't told her his birthday until recently.

[yn] knew nothing of Subaru or at least truthful things. It felt nothing more than a mere illusion to what Subaru wanted her to think, wanted her to believe.

“Come on, don’t change the subject now! Anyway—you’ve met my siblings. Hell, even my mom.” [yn] retorts, grabbing the joint from Subaru.

Exhaling a cloud of smoke, the feeling of euphoria colors him. “Yea. I guess, come over if you want this weekend.” He spurs as the sound of her heartbeat pounds the air around him.

“You mean it?” [yn] pipes with glee, eagerly taking a hit; inhaling the potent flavor of citric orange and lemon.

Coughing at its harsh smoke, she carries the feeling of relief. “Subaru, I’m kinda glad I spilt my drink on you that day.” she begins to ponder.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” he asks, grabbing the joint for another hit, [yn] lifts her head to meet his crimson-colored eyes.

“Cause I wouldn’t be here today if I did.” She’s smitten with euphoria and glee.

His eyes roll as her sudden confession tugs a smile onto his pale face. “You’re so corny, [yn].” He drags another hit, then exhales, shifting his body towards her. “But go on.” He smirks, she begins to stammer about, blabbering about her own feelings.

He hums as she spurs about, holding onto the words she speaks. The scent of [yn]’s blood itches the back of his throat.

Scoffing at her intoxicating smell, Subaru stands to his feet covering his nose with his arm. Staring in shock, [yn] stands up and smells her clothes. “Do I stink?! What is it?” she smells under her arms.

“Shit, no sorry. I thought I was having a nose bleed.” Clearing his throat, Subaru put out the joint. “Anyway, I’ll text you my address. I gotta go.” He said looking for his car keys.

“Do you need a ride?”

[yn] shakes her head in response, “I’ll be okay. see you, this weekend.” She grins, waving goodbye before heading into the direction of home.

“This is going to be the worst weekend ever.” He mutters watching her fleeing figure.

♪(๑ᴖ◡ᴖ๑)♪

It was finally the weekend, [yn] was finally going to meet Subaru’s family. Standing in front of her bedroom mirror, [yn] looks over her outfit more, a simple yet stylish look.

“Alright, here goes nothing.”

She grabs her car keys and her welcoming gift. With the drive itself worrying her, she ponders the news of a possible snow storm.

As much as she loved hanging out with Subaru, she much rather be alone with her thoughts. Not since what happened yesterday. [yn] was embarrassed, why exactly did Subaru react so suddenly to her? Deciding to leave the thoughts at home, [yn] starts her drive to Subaru’s place.

After what felt like an hour, [yn] managed to arrive just in time before the storm started. The engine to her car turns off once in the driveway to Subaru’s home. A large yellow manor, covered with managed ivy on its walls.

“Woah, this place is huge.” [yn] mumbles, exiting the car, she approaches the maintenance to the mansion. Upon reaching the door, she notices a man with auburn-red hair and green eyes standing on the mansion’s balcony. Before she knew it, he vanished into thin air.

“What the fuck?” she mutters, drawing her attention back to the door she knocks softly. “Uh, Subaru. I’m here.” she calls out. Moments later, the large front door opens slowly. Expecting to be greeted with Subaru’s presence, the man from the balcony now stands before her.

“Who are you?” The man asks, his eyes scanning her full figure, [yn]’s face flush with embarrassment. “I’m [yn] [ln], I’m here to see Subaru.” she answers.

“A girl here for Subaru? That’s a first.” He says, stepping ahead he lets her enter. “So, [yn]. How do you know my brother?” he continues to pester.

“Uhm, he and I have been friends since freshman year of university.” she retorts, for a man she just met, he sure was nosey and she didn’t like it.

“Huh, never heard of you before. Oi, Subaru, some woman’s here to see you.” He calls out, his head turns as Subaru enters the room.

“Tsk, yea thanks, Ayato. You can leave now.” Subaru stands beside him waiting for him to leave. Ayato glares at his brother, side eyeing him as he turns to walk away. “I see you met Ayato.” He mutters grabbing [yn]’s wrists leading her towards his room.

‘So that’s one of his brothers.’ She thinks to herself, eyeing the walls of the manor, admiring the family portraits lined along the wall. Many of them consist of three different women, a man and presumingly their six children.

“How big is your family?” [yn] staggers to keep up with Subaru’s rushed walking pace.

“I mean, you can tell by the portraits themselves.” He opens the door to his room, escorting her inside, “Also, dinner won’t start until four tonight. So until then, stay here with me.”

“But Subaru, I'm here to meet your family, not sit in your room until dinner.” [yn] exclaims, his eyes roll as he closes the door behind them.

“Yeah and until then we’re going to hang out here.” He grabs the remote to his television and turns it on. [yn] sighs, as she sits down on his bed. “Just listen to me for once.” he adds.

“Yeah, yeah.” [yn] slides off her shoes and shimmers to the side of his bed, leaving room for him to lay down.

“Here, I got you a gift.” He says tossing her a disposable pen. “Ah yes more drugs. You know me so well.” [yn] teases stealing a hit of her newly founded pen. Subaru clicks his tongue in response.

“Shut up.”

As the night progressed, the clingier Subaru became, the closer they got.

(●´ω｀●)

It started with an ‘innocent’ kiss, and now they ravish in each other’s hold. His mouth sucks the base of her neck as his hands brush against her with comforting sweet warmth.

She mewls in awe, Subaru slowly undresses her. Not minding the feeling of his sharp fangs, he grazes her soft complexion, his free arm wrapped around her waist, as his hand preoccupied itself with the base of his member guiding it to her entrance. Her already intoxicating scent pushes him to the edge.

In a swift movement, he pushes into her entrance, moaning at the feeling of her insides pulsing around him. His fangs sink way into her neck. She grips onto his shoulder, as her eyes roll into the back of her head. He feverishly drinks from her neck. This was only the beginning.

(●´ω｀●)

After an hour, she’s asleep, with her body decorated with love and bite marks. Subaru hopes it’s enough. Enough to make his brothers steer clear of her.

He watches her sleeping form as he pulls up his jeans, his face wearing a look of boredom. Now what’s he to do since she’s sleeping? The sudden presence of Laito, makes Subaru shift instantly, his green cat-like eyes peering over at [yn]’s sleeping figure.

“Is that the source of the lovely smell? Surely you’ll let your big brother get a taste of her.” He grins, teleporting next to her limp body.

“Fuck off, pervert. She’s not one of them, so she’s off limits.” He sneers.

“Any of us can fuck and bite a human woman, remember that. She’s up for grabs, Su..ba..ru~.” Laito says with a grin, his cold hand brushing bits of hair from [yn]’s forehead.

“Fuck you, Laito. The project‘s over, admit defeat. This one is mine.”

“Father’s letter says otherwise, see you at dinner.” Laito vanishes before Subaru could respond. This was one of the many reasons why he avoided you coming over, his siblings.

[calaisreno]

Magic

Even Sherlock Holmes wasn't expecting this.

“How did she die?” Lestrade asks. 

Sherlock glances at Anderson, certain he has some theory he’s eager to blurt out as soon as Lestrade gives him permission to talk. It’ll be rubbish, but Sherlock hasn’t any answer, either. 

The woman, Jennifer Wilson, is wearing all pink. She came from Wales today and had been planning to meet a lover. Serial adulterer, her ring says. 

Anderson has already given his opinion about the letters she scratched into the floor: RACHE—

But she isn’t German and it isn’t clear why she would scratch the word for revenge into the floorboards, breaking her pink nails and bloodying the tips of her fingers. And even if Anderson were right about it (he’s not), it doesn’t explain what killed her.

He nods at Anderson. The tech shrugs. “No idea,” he says. He smirks a bit. “Go on, do your magic, Holmes.”

There is nothing magic about observing, he wants to say. But that’s beside the point. He’s observed everything— this crime scene and the three before— and none of the victims should be dead. No wounds, no asphyxia, no medical conditions, no poison. Four victims, dead for no observable reason. 

He loves seeing what others miss, putting the pieces together and presenting the solution as if it were obvious. That’s what he does, why Lestrade calls him whenever the police are out of their depth. This ought to be a fascinating mystery, but with important clues missing, it’s baffling. 

At this point, he might hare off suddenly, pretending he’s thought of something, but that won’t bring him any closer to the solution. 

“It’s not suicide,” he says. 

“Obviously,” a voice replies. 

In the doorway stands an odd-looking man, smiling at them. Sandy-blond hair, face tanned, military posture. His coat is long, a rather shabby velvet thing that may once have been black, but now has a purplish sheen. Epaulettes on each shoulder give it the look of a uniform. Under it, Sherlock can see the collar of a checked shirt peeking out of a beige jumper. Khaki trousers complete the look, whatever it’s meant to be. 

“Obviously?” Sherlock says, because nothing is obvious right now. 

“Who’re you?” Lestrade asks. “Didn’t you see the yellow tape? Didn’t Sergeant Donovan—“

“She didn’t see me,” the man replies. “I Apparated.”

“You… what?” Lestrade looks no less confused than Sherlock feels. 

Still studying the man, he asks, “Afghanistan or Iraq?”

“Neither,” the man says. “And you won’t find a cause of death, not one that you’ll recognise, because you can’t see the magical signature. I can. I’m afraid it was Ava Kedavra, one of the Unforgivable curses, which is why I’m here.” He holds out his hand to Lestrade. “John Watson, Auror.” 

Lestrade takes the hand, stares at Watson with his mouth open. “You’re… what?”

“An Auror. Would you mind stepping over here, Mr Holmes, Mr Anderson?” He gestures that they should stand with Lestrade. “This will only take a moment.”

Curious, Sherlock steps towards Lestrade. “Who killed her?”

“Moriarty. I’m afraid that you’re about to forget that, though.”

“Moriarty killed her… with a curse.” Sherlock shakes his head. “What are you—“

Auror Watson is holding something that might be a wand. “Look at me, gentlemen.” As they all lean in to see what he’s about to show them, he speaks one word.

“Obliviate.” 

555 words / Flash Fiction

Hope I surprised you all today! Thank you for reading 💕

@lisbeth-kk @meetinginsamarra @raina-at @bertytravelsfar @momma2boys @jrow @helloliriels @the-reading-lemon @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @elwinglyre @mydogwatson @thetimemoves @jobooksncoffee @lhrinchelsea @peanitbear

[kitakati]

I play Isai in saves at different points of his timeline so this is kind of a longer general lore post for him

Full name: Isaias Enrique Arevalo Castellon Stage name: Isai Castellon Age/Birthday: Mid 20s, August 10 Height/Weight: 6'2", 202 lbs Build: Lean muscular athletic Eyes/Skin: Dark brown, olive tan Hair/Length: Black, slightly wavy medium length Voice description/Claim: smooth with slight gravel, lazy, warm deep, clear and lighter when singing, David Castaneda (1) (2) (3) (4 headphone warning) (TV SHOW SPOILERS WARNING-I've never watched the show so idk what's spoiled LOL) singing voice (1)

Aspiration: Master Actor Traits: Self-Assured, Music Lover, Outgoing, Active, Dance Machine Pronouns: He/him Sexuality: Bisexual

Good Personality Traits: confident, charismatic, adventurous, warm-hearted, passionate, generous, charming, competitive, ambitious, thoughtful, laid back, loyal, fun sense of humor, inclusive, easy to get along with when given a chance, pretty patient with most people, easily can make an awkward situation feel more relaxed, takes really good care of his health and body Bad Personality Traits: Can sometimes be self-centered, too heavy handed/blunt with words when agitated, can seem arrogant, stubborn, reckless, doesn't tell the whole truths, when frustrated or angry can shut people off and not speak about things (so he doesn't say anything he will regret), may seem too performative and keeps a "public persona" to stay in control of what people know about him, other's might not notice this difference and just see him as a overconfident pretty boy who loves attention, overspends and not that smart with money, doesn't ask for help until its too late, can overwork himself if no one stops him, has sometimes unreasonably high expectations of himself

Family members: Hector Julian Arevalo Lopez (father) Laura Isabel Arevalo Castellon (Mother - deceased) Roberto Jose Arevalo (Grandfather - deceased) Isai has an estranged aunt from mother's side who funded the journey to Del Sol Valley and helped get them the place they started out renting--but stopped all contact after the loss of Isai's mother so he never met her

Favorite color: burnt orange Least favorite color: yellow Do they read: only scripts Favorite music: Latin Pop/Hip hop/DJ music/Electronic Favorite food: Ceviche, spicy flavorful foods Usual Fashion or dress: You can usually find Isai in sports/workout wear, kind of a mix of minimalist/soft grunge, or dark techwear/eboy style for club/rave outfits Jewelry/Piercings/Tattoo/Scars: Gold/silver chain, tiny hoop/diamond hoop earrings, sometimes wears watches or thin gold/silver link bracelets, rings, has large sleeve tattoo on right arm, right side torso, small faded scar near scalp above left eyebrow, small faded scar on left thigh near knee Languages: "Spanish" first language but speaks it with a very slightly noticeable "English" accent, is proficient in reading and writing it, "English" as a 2nd language with very tiny hints of showing that it is not his native language Smoke/Drugs/Drink: Socially smokes rarely (in business situations), used to take rave drugs/smoke marijuana but not since becoming a professional athlete/actor, drinks alcohol socially 2-3x a week and gets drunk occasionally in parties with friends/family

Hobbies/What they spend most their time doing: basketball, soccer, running, yoga, workouts/conditioning in gyms or outdoors, rock climbing, dancing, parties, listening to music, playing guitar, singing, casual drinks with friends, sleeping, going out on dates/buying things for people, cooking healthy meals

Favorite Memory: Playing with fireworks with Mari and Fernando and almost burning down the neighbor's lemon tree, having to outrun the wrath of a chancla (flip-flop) beatdown

Worst Memory: During the 6 day journey from Selvadorada through jungle and mountains to get to Del Sol Valley--Falling from a rope bridge into river rapids in a canyon while tied to his mother. After minutes of barely being able to get any air and being beaten and scraped by rocks and trees while being tossed in the river, he survived a waterfall drop, but drowned when the weight of his mother's body dragged him deeper underwater into the open area the river emptied into. He was miraculously found and saved minutes later after the rope tied around his waist snagged on a tree branch in the river and helped keep his body half afloat. Isai still has nightmares and wakes up sweating and paralyzed once in awhile. He still can't swim and refuses to go near any open water, rivers, oceans and lakes He also doesn't take acting jobs where there are water scenes.

Most at ease when: he's around people who love him and respect his life choices, dancing, singing, cooking, running, playing guitar and listening to music Most ill at ease when: around people who don't respect his physical boundaries after long amounts of time, when there's too many paparazzi, doesn't hear from or is unable to see loved ones enough, when he's overworked or feels like he's being used without mutually acknowledging benefits

Introvert or Extrovert: Huge extrovert, will find anyone to spend time with and befriends people easily--lonely? He'll invite you out. Quiet? He'll spend time with you somewhere you can handle. Party of a friend of a friend's cousin? He'll go! He hates working out alone but he usually has to and gets lonely--so he listens to music to get by Daredevil or Cautious: mostly cautious when it comes to his body since he needs to take care of it for his future. There's also some things he wont do like anything with heights or swimming related, he's a reckless driver though Disorderly or Neat: Isai is more disorderly neat.. he has his order of things but they don't outwardly look particularly "in order"

Priorities: money to provide for family, family/friends, sex, love, money to spend on expensive things, music--in that order Life philosophy: get rich, show off, love freely, leave a legacy Greatest strength: fortitude and charisma Greatest vulnerability/weakness: not very smart with money at first Soft spot for: short bratty people who think they can boss him around (looks at Katia), little old people that are nice, helping other immigrant families, cuddling

Biggest regret: missed going to his grandfather's bedside to say goodbye before his death because of an important game so he couldn't fly back to Selvadorada Biggest accomplishment: (differing times in timeline) collegiate soccer mvp, best supporting actor in a drama nomination, paid off grandfather's land in Selvadorada and prevented big corpo from buying it, bought his father a house and car in Selvadorada and Del Sol Valley

Outfit Details (Left to Right) | top | bottom | shoes | rings (tsr) | earrings | | top | bottom | shoes | | top | bottom | shoes | shirt overlay | arm band | necklace | rings |

[feralforfruit]

The Garden {Part 2}

♡︎Go read the other parts from my masterlist♡︎

Warnings: gun/knife violence and mentions of blood.

Pairings: Ladybug, Lemon, Tangerine, and Yuichi x fem!reader.

You wake up to an alarm and you get up to walk into the next room where you do most of the Hivemind work. You grab your iced coffee from the mini fridge before you sit down at your setup. You turn on the huge PC that is decorated with photos of you and the boys on multiple screens. It lights up a bright yellow in the back which causes the room to follow suit in the hue. You put on your headset and get to work.

You knew the men would have arrived at their destination by then. You text the group chat to let them know you are up and ready to go. Ladybug texts a thumbs up as a signal to connect all your earpieces to be able to communicate through the mission. You turn the devices all on, “Hey boys! You guys got there alright?”

“We’re doing okay, BB. We are outside of the HQ right now,” said Ladybug.

“This shit looks like a goddamn fortress, darling. Gonna be a tough one, innit?” Tangerine says in disbelief.

“Just how you like them, Tang.” you smile to yourself, “First what you guys have to do is get to the back fence. There should be an opening big enough for you to fit yourselves and all the equipment without getting seen. You should use the trash bins when you enter to stash anything you might need to escape.”

“What if someone takes out the trash, though, what then?” Lemon asks.

“They won’t. They have very particular hours of taking out the trash and this shouldn’t take you up to 8pm now, should it?” you chuckle softly while looking at the daylight from your window.

“Let’s go. We should not waste time.” Yuichi mutters to them. “I want to get out of this as soon as possible.” He motions to his overall look. He has a much dapper look than usual to seem like he is a professional yakuza associate.

“Oh but I want pics of your sexy get-up before it gets potentially ruined. You didn’t let me see it before you left.” you pout.

He scoffs, “Hachi, don’t.” You giggle in response knowing you pushed him a bit.

“Alright, fellas. It’s showtime.” Ladybug says as all make their way toward the broken fence. They bend their bodies halfway to get through as you say, “You guys see a gray door straight ahead? It should have a helipad sign on it.”

“Yes, ma’am. Picking the lock now.” Ladybug manages to quickly get the door unlocked as Lemon and Tangerine stash the extra weapons as you advised.

Ladybug starts to zip up his jumpsuit, getting ready for action. “Now, BB, how did you manage to get the maintenance guy’s uniform? Did you order it?”

“Oh, lovebug, you underestimate me. We have had this plan for months and you thought I wouldn’t have the actual maintenance man taken care of. How did you think I knew his whole schedule and how the routine check-up works?” you say while taking a sip of your iced coffee.

“Wow, our Bumblebee has a stinger,” Lemon says. “Damn, right, handsome.” You smooch as he chuckles in response.

The boys make their way up to the third floor of the stairs and right before they open the door you say, “Wait, guys, remember this layout. The left side of the corridor is where Yuichi has to escort Ladybug to the computer. On the right side is where Lemon and Tangerine need to sneak through to get to the last door on the left where Kuro Akuji, the yakuza chairman, is currently setting up the deal with the subordinate family of his clan. They know that there are people trying to get this deal to cease its plans of kicking civilians out of their town just so they can expand their empire with a shiny, new money-grab casino. Even people in his own clan aren’t too happy about it so there are going to be guards roaming through that hall so try to be as quiet as possible. Be invisible, even.”

“Got it, poppet,” Tangerine says as clicks out his knife before opening the door and peeking out to make sure the coast is clear for them to split up. He nods and the pairs go their separate ways. Lemon and Tangerine walk a few feet before needing to turn a corner and take a glimpse of the hallway that is full of a bunch of huge men in suits having a chat outside the doors of the meeting. “Bollocks.” They say quietly at the same time. “BB, how much are we getting paid for this again?” Lemon asks in whispers.

“The informer offered 3 million for Akuji’s death along with everyone else in the room who is involved,” you say while reading out the terms on a tab of your encrypted emails.

Yuichi frowns while still walking through empty hallways with Ladybug. “Just to kill him? What has the computer got to do with it?” he asks. 

“Oh that is a mystery mouse ka-tool that is going to help us later,” you smile to yourself. “Just stay focused and make sure you go to the black door at the end of the hallway that has a number 3 on it.”

He shakes his head and decides to not ask any more questions. Yuichi then finally spots the door you said and he looks at Ladybug before taking a sigh. He knocks three times before a tall man with bleached hair and a similar dark suit to Yuichi’s answers the door. He seems to have an intimidating ever-present frown that most large men in the yakuza always wear as a part of their uniform.

Ladybug stands there, awkwardly smiling and lifting his toolbox up as Yuichi is explaining their presence to the associate. The man lifts his eyebrow before opening the door giving them room for entry.

“Good boys. Now, Ladybug all you have to do is follow the steps I showed you the other day. Unscrew the computer’s casing and then remove all the parts so you can look like you’re replacing the PC’s fan. Snatch the original motherboard before replacing it with the extra one.” you explain before switching your attention, “Fruits, are you guys doing, alright?”

“Just fucking dandy, darling,” Tangerine says out of breath as he grunts while he slices the last huge guard in the hallway. 

“Still need to get to the Diesel, luv, but we got this.” Lemon states before grabbing a sword that is laying on the floor beside a large suited body. Tangerine looks to his brother and says, “Time for a Tail Tack, innit?” Lemon pats his shoulder and responds excitedly, “Shit, bruv, we haven’t done that in ages!”

Tangerine kicks open the door to the meeting and the twins run in shooting and slicing in direction, back up against the other to keep from throwing shots at each other. Bodies hit the ground like coins out of a pocket and not a single one with a second to process taking out their weapons. The two men take a look towards the center of the room and blow a few more shots toward the most important person in the room.

Thankfully, all the commotion isn’t heard from the opposite side of the floor, where Ladybug is finishing his work of grabbing the motherboard. Yuichi asks the associates for a lighter trying to act casual while distracting them from the final pieces of Ladybug’s movements.

Ladybug finally closes up the computer case and then gathers his tools before standing up. Yuichi notices and then makes his way up towards the exit while bidding farewell to those in the room not trying to make eye contact with the large bleached-haired man as he opens the door. Ladybug follows close behind saying his best Japanese goodbyes. They both release a breath like they’ve been holding it the whole time there as they walk back towards the same place they exited.

They meet two blood-covered twins halfway with and stare at them with raised eyebrows. “You bastards act as if you didn’t expect this,” Tangerine says annoyed at their reaction before opening the door to the stairs aggressively.

“Are all my boys together and in one piece?” you smile feeling proud of how smooth your plan played out. “Yes, we are close to the exit,” Yuichi says.

“Oh my god, am I actually going to see Yuichi come back with that delicious suit?” you ask before biting your lip at the thought.

“Not before you hose down the fruits before letting them back inside The Garden.” Ladybug cringes at the thought of needing to get the inside of the car cleaned as they crawl out of the hole in the fence. “You try looking proper when you have to fucking blow some bellend's brains out for 3 million fucking dollars!” Tangerine states aggressively as he hops into the driver's seat making their quick escape in hopes no one follows them.

“I'm sure it isn't anything I haven't seen from them before. As long as my boys come back to me still breathing, I don’t care what I have to do. But I will make it my own personal mission to see sexy Yakuza Yuichi in front of me before I deal with the twins.” you chuckle as you keep track of the traffic cameras, making sure that no one is following their location.

The boys arrive safely and you get a notification of the deposit from the informer in The Garden’s bank account just a few minutes after confirming the mission’s completion. Ladybug hops out of the car still in his disguise, with the toolbox in his hand. He opens it and passes you the motherboard. Your smile wides as he hands it to you and you give him a quick peck on the cheek. Yuichi gets out of the car and you walk up to him as soon as you notice him. You took out your phone and take a photo immediately as you squeal like a fangirl.

“You look so fucking hot! I’m so sorry, but I am going to plan more jobs that require you to be in more sexy ass suits.” you run your hand down his tie, admiring the details.

Yuichi can’t help but chuckle lightly at all the attention you’re giving him despite his aversion to the idea. “I can’t say no to you, Hachi. You know that,” he says while stroking your hair softly.

“Thank you for looking this handsome so we could have the motherboard,” you say while looking up at him sweetly.

“Why is it so important, anyway?” Yuichi asks.

“It is important because this will give us access to all the intel that Kuro Akiji’s clan had on the area they claimed to be theirs. Secret houses, plans, or info on their members that his associates held in one computer to keep things running properly in the organization. We can be one step ahead of all the yakuza’s operations. Plus, it runs insanely fast and has a large amount of space for me to do the same in The Hivemind. They had the best computer modders in the city optimize it to perfection so it has all that and more for me to play with. So, basically, you guys have acquired one of the best systems that could only be found in the black market with the same price value as what we made from just killing Akuji. Neat, huh?” They look at you in astonishment as you explained.

“You, Bumblebee, are fucking brilliant,” Lemon says. “And you, my Lemon drop, need a fucking shower. And so do you, Tang. Come on, let's go to the backyard so I can hose you, cuties, down.” You snap twice and point for them to walk to the back gate with haste.

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

A/N: Sorry, it has been a minute since I felt the urge to get my ideas flowing! I was really needing a day to feel like I could give you guys this sweet little bit of their dynamic on the job and today was finally that. I had fun writing this one and even though it isn't really smutty or even remotely steamy, the thoughts of how they would work together made me smile. I hope you all feel the same way.

[marlynnofmany]

Human at Work

When our ship landed to deliver the overdue shipment of weird little space goats, I admit I was surprised when I saw what their owners looked like. “Big,” I’d been told. “Polite,” as well. Even “Very careful about where they step.” But no one had told me to expect pink elephants.

I almost stopped in my tracks as I exited the ship, only jumping forward again when a shipmate’s bug leg prodded my shoulder blade. I stepped quickly and did my best to stare without slowing up to the proceedings.

Our small crew was bringing the cages out onto a landing pad raised off the ground, level with the average head height of the gigantic life forms whose home planet this was. They strolled by on business of their own, each with six legs and trunks in pairs: top and bottom. Their tails looked prehensile too. But the most striking part was the color: as bright pink as any flamingo, with flappy ears that faded to a more salmon-orange with yellow edges. All they needed was polka dots to look like the most absurd hallucination this side of the Milky Way.

“Hello, esteemed client!” announced our captain as he led the procession toward the pink face waiting at the edge of the platform. Captain Pockap was, I’d learned, the nephew of the captain of our sister ship, and somewhat new at this. I hoped he was waving his green tentacles at the right alien.

This elephant was pretty noteworthy, actually. Its eyes had the white haze of cataract sufferers on Earth. And as we approached, it moved its ears down to show a hat of some sort— Wait. No.

It that a human on its head?? I thought as I walked. What the heck?

It was. While Captain Pockap greeted the alien that still hadn’t spoken, I took in the sight of the muscley blonde guy perched on a saddle that was clearly custom-made for this scenario. He was wearing weird little booties and had one foot raised, like he was ready to tap out a message on the alien’s head.

“And hello to you too!” Pockap concluded with a wave up at the human.

The pink behemoth finally spoke. “Kindly do not distract my seeing-eye human,” it said in a deep voice. “He is working.”

Pockap gave many flowery apologies, which the alien ignored in favor of enquiring about the state of its cargo.

“The animals are in perfectly good health,” Pockap said. “Though they did give us some trouble. I’m afraid I’ll have to insist—”

His demands for additional money were interrupted by urgent hisses from several crewmates who knew better, and (thankfully) by the arrival of another giant pink elephant.

The two aliens spoke in rumbles almost too low to hear. The crewmates yelled at the captain in whispers. I stood awkwardly to the side, a newcomer without much stake in any of this.

“Hey,” called a different voice. “Quick question.” It was the human guy, waving me over while his employer (owner?) was busy with conversation.

I trotted to the edge of the platform, careful not to lean too far. No railing. “Yes?”

“Is there one ship like that, or two?” he asked, pointing over my shoulder at the lemon-looking thing we’d come in.

“Oh! Two,” I told him. “The other one looks just like it. Parked over thataway.” I pointed off to where Kamm’s ship was picking up a new courier job. The two were nearly the exact same model on the outside, though only one had corridors tall enough for me to stand comfortably.

“Thank you,” the guy said in clear relief. “I wasn’t sure I was describing it right. Glad I directed her to the right one.”

“Yeah, you got it!” I said. I made to move back toward the crew, but he had one more thing to say.

“If you’re looking for a change in careers, there’s plenty of demand for sight assistance here,” the guy said. “We work in shifts, and the pay is good.”

“Oh, uh, thanks! I’ll keep that in mind.” This wasn’t the type of career I was aiming for, but it certainly was memorable. I wondered if there was a foot-tap code.

The second elephant said its goodbyes and moved off, leaving the seeing-eye human to snap to attention and catch his employer up to speed with the surroundings. No one had moved much except for me. I sidled back to where I was supposed to be.

Wiser minds had prevailed, thankfully. Pockap didn’t press for extra fees, and the blind pink elephant who owned the goats didn’t say anything about his conversational misstep. I was quietly shaking my head about how strange my life had gotten when Pockap got involved in moving the cages onto the waiting cart, and he bumped the controls that let all of the goats out.

They immediately bounded across the platform in a wave of gleeful orange tentacle-fur, kicking up their heels and knocking each other over. Their scrambling was only matched by the ship’s crew going for the nets to catch them again.

I chased after two of the little troublemakers who broke away from the herd to make a mad dash toward the alien elephant at the edge of the platform. I could see the human tapping urgently at the giant head, but not soon enough. One of the goats skidded to a stop while the other sprang across empty space to land beside him.

He caught it. Just leaned forward in his harness and snatched it up like a wayward puppy. The one that had stayed on the platform was already scampering back toward the ship.

“Good catch!” I called. “Hey, are they poisonous?” No one had been able to say for sure, and it seemed like an important detail right now.

“Only if you’re allergic to bees!” the human said as he bundled the wriggling creature into his shirt. Anemone-tendril fur smacked his face.

“Thanks, good to know!” I said. “Let me grab a cage to put that one in.” I darted off while the blind elephant asked what was happening with more patience than the situation deserved.

Thankfully for all involved, our ship was the only one on the platform, and the door was shut. Those frisky goatlings had nowhere to go but around in circles. Not that they minded running in circles, of course, but it was only a matter of time before the crew managed to grab them one way or another. Mostly with nets. Sometimes with hands — or the equivalent — and sometimes with trash cans or whatever else was convenient. I hauled a single-occupancy cage over to the edge and got permission to climb onboard the giant alien’s head in order to retrieve the little critter that was trying to kick free.

I almost lost it over the edge. Almost. But the client didn’t need to know that. I got it in the cage and put the cage back on the cart with the rest, and that was all the mattered. The animals were none the worse for their adventure.

Pockap was allergic to bees, though.

“You finish up here,” he wheezed to the yellow Heatseeker who was already ushering him back toward the ship with exasperation on her lizardy face.

She spoke into her communicator to the crewmembers still on the ship. “Need a medical scan for the captain. Toxins and allergens. Quickly, please. He’s — okay yes, Zhee is carrying him in now.”

The gaudy purple Mesmer had scooped up the captain like an octopus that needed to be tossed back into the sea. It looked like an awkward motion with his praying mantis arms, but then, everything looked awkward to me and my human hands.

“Our sincere apologies,” said the new acting captain, coming to join me at the edge of the platform where she could address the client. “In all honesty, that spokesperson is not suited to this job. I hope his incompetence hasn’t caused you undue distress.”

It hadn’t. The large alien was more amused than anything, and willing enough to finish the transaction. Moments later, payment had been transferred and the animals were in a transport car, off to be someone else’s problem. I looked around to make absolutely sure that there were no sneaky little orange faces hiding somewhere. All clear.

“Farewell,” rumbled the elephant. “Safe travels.” It turned away from the platform slowly, leaving plenty of time for the human on its head to scan for tripping hazards and give the all clear. “Home, Jeeves.”

I held in a burst of laughter. Jeeves? That can’t be his real name. Did the first person to be a seeing-eye human suggest that as a job title? Amazing.

A cutesy little peeping noise told me the acting captain was doing her people’s version of a sharp whistle for my attention.

“Sorry, coming,” I said. Everyone else was heading for the ship, and I brought up the rear.

“Considering a job change?” she asked with a flick of her tail.

“No thank you,” I said. “A noble cause, I’m sure, but it doesn’t speak to me. I’d rather stay with you folks.”

“Good,” she told me, walking faster. “You’ll be useful to have on hand when we tell Pockap that we’re voting him out of the captain’s chair.”

“Oh my,” I managed. And I thought today was already as eventful as it was going to get.

~~~

(More backstory for the book. I’ve already got the next bit planned out!)

[urmumsdrycooch]

ᖴOOᒪ ᖴOᖇ ᕼEᖇ

Rachel Amber x Reader

Summary: Y/n being an absolute lovesick idiot for Rachel.

Warnings: Swearing

I never thought I'd stoop this low. I'd promised myself to not fall in love in high school. Well, I promised myself I'd go on a 5-mile run every day, but look how that's gone. But this promise was simple, such a facile task.

And then she became part of my life.

I can't go a day without thinking of her and her stupid smile. Her stupid hyper-fixations every week or so. Just her stupid fucking self.

And the fact I love it, being around her, knowing she probably thinks of me in her spare time, though she definitely doesn't have to worry about me returning the favour.

The fact she knows it as well, she knows how I feel, and I know how she feels, yet we still play around with the subject. My friends think I'm so insane to be fighting these feelings, thoughts that simply cannot erase and won't erase not putting me at any ease.

Ever since we met I knew something was there, softly killing my promise whilst I steadily denied the truth.

"Give me another lemon one."

"But you don't like those ones," I point out.

"Yeah, well you hate them." She argues, noticing my stare, "Just pass me the stupid skittles."

I sigh, passing her a few yellow skittles, her hand slowly accepting them.

We're sat in a booth in the diner, waiting for our drinks to be served, sharing a small packet of skittles.

I look around the room, a mix of students and working adults on their break. A few couples holding hands in the booths, smitten smiles plastered on their faces. Everybody seems to have someone just for them, having a good time with somebody they enjoy spending their time with.

It's not like I envy them or anything, I don't mind at all. Rachel and I have a good time being friends, best friends. Well, I say I don't mind but, being a little bit more than friends wouldn't hurt.

I know she knows, I know she does. Well, I think she does. There's a possibility. Does she know? Tell me, Rachel Amber, do you know?

"Do I know what?" The blonde hums still sloppily chewing on the sweets in her mouth, not making eye contact until she's finished her sentence.

"Huh, oh. I forgot." I answer, getting a pair of rolled eyes off of her in return.

I didn't even realise I said that out loud. Maybe I should ask her, verbally this time, rather than mentally (and somehow accidentally verbally, the mind works in marvellous ways). But, maybe she doesn't want to cross the line and- well, I totally get that. Because that is exactly what I'm doing right now.

She feels the same, she's got to. I mean, I am pretty smokin' hot, as she would say, and when we're alone it's like, so, ugh- I can't put it into words. It's like my heart is on fire and she's the chip pan that's caused that fire.

God, it confuses me.

"Here you go girls, one cherry coke, one orange juice." Joyce smiles as she places down the drinks.

"Hey, give me a sip!" Rachel orders me.

"You can get off it, you've got your own drink."

"Settle down you two," Joyce chuckles, pausing the Amber girl frozen in her reaching for my drink movement, "You two remind me just of how me and my best friend were back in our teen years."

Best friend, of course. It's like the universe has to constantly remind me.

The blonde smiles at Joyce as she walks off,  once she left, Rachel reaches for my drink and takes a massive gulp.

"Ah, refreshing." She sighs, "Why did you get that?"

"Maybe because it is 10:30 AM, and I'm not in the mood for diabetes this early in the morning." I roll my eyes, taking a sip of the juice.

Okay, so maybe I'm not making it clear as day that I'm hopelessly in love with her, but what can a gal do, really?

I watch her take hold of the straw in her glass and place it between her lips, taking numerous large sips of the drink before looking back up at me. "Stop gazing at me, weirdo." She giggles with a playful smile.

"I wasn't gazing at you, I was taking notice of how you don't see the need for air between sips."

Yeah, not clear as day at all.

"Come one, we'll finish these up and get back to Blackwell. Unless you totally think we should ditch and go do acrobatics." She grins.

"Acrobati-"

"Yes, come one." She takes my hand, leading me out of the diner.

Time Skip

"So, if you just stay like that until I figure out how this is going to work." She suggests, a thumb on her chin as she thinks hard about how to make this 'awesome acrobatic move' work.

"Rachel, I can't stay like this forever," I say in a strained voice, caused largely by the fact I'm trying to hold a handstand while this girl takes her sweet time to think about purely nothing.

"Okay, one arm out, palm up."

"No fucking way," I argue.

"Just do it."

I centre my left hand and stick out my right arm, I feel a small weight placing itself onto my hand whilst hearing, "I'm just gonna-"

And collapse.

We tumble flat onto our backs and I'm sure every bone in my hand is shattered. The both of us pant until we break into laughter. We face each other, smiler growing wider the more we laugh together, hands linking together as our cheeks begin to cramp up.

"Sorry, I thought that'd work." She apologises, once the two of us had calmed down.

"Rachel, you're a straight-A student, how do you not understand the basics of gravity?"

"I thought it was a hella cool idea!"

"Well, you're hella stupid." I mock, gaining a shove of my shoulder off of the blonde.

I roll back onto my back dramatically, Rachel hovering over my face. "Us Leos don't tend to take insults very well." She smirks.

I roll my eyes at her antics, a humorous huff leaving my lips. Like I said, our time together is fun, without being an item. I'm sure it wouldn't make a difference, but maybe it would. Maybe instead of lying on the floor in this uncomfortable silence, she'd be kissing my face off or something couple-y like that. I'm not complaining, but I'm not definitely against her kissing my face off.

It could be so simple, but she's just making it hard, why can't she see I'm an absolute fool for her, why can't she show some a sign? What do I have to do, who do I have to be to get some reciprocation?

"You're doing it again."

My eyebrows raise slightly, "Hm? Doing what?"

"The staring thing." She examines my face, "Tell me what's on your mind."

This is the last thing I need, "No, it's fine." I look down at the non-existent watch on my wrist, "We should get back."

I lift my upper back off of the ground but it's immediately pushed back down, "Stop avoiding the topic."

"But there's nothing on my mind." I lie.

"Stop lying." She scoffs, her hand remaining on my chest.

I stay silent for a few seconds, mentally debating whether I should give a hint, a confession or just lie.

"Well, I guess I've just been thinking a lot."

"About what?" Rachel questions in her best therapist voice.

"Things..." I drag.

"Specify 'things' for me, Y/n." She speaks, losing her patience.

"I'm just all up in my feels, y'know. Like, I can't put it into words."

"Is it a person, an event, a memory?" She suggests I open up further.

"A person," I answer truthfully, ", and they won't leave my mind."

"Is this out of hatred, friendship, jealousy, love? Anything like that."

I pause, giving myself time to think over the numerous outcomes of this talk. It could end many ways, maybe she'll freak out, maybe she's disgusted by me if I'm lucky she'll be fine with it, even luckier if she feels the same.

"She's just so kickass, and I can't help but feel... things, about her. Everything about her. Literally everything. She's really funny, so caring, and I don't think I've met a more interesting person. Plus, she's absolutely gorgeous, like a Goddess, can rock any outfit, could wear a trash bag and look hot as hell."

I begin to smile to myself getting lost in the thought of the girl. And finally putting it into words? It's bigger than Kim and Ye's split. I never thought I could speak to somebody about it wholeheartedly without feeling I could say something wrong.

"Whenever I see her I find myself hypnotized, and I hate it. I hate all of this. Because in reality, I'm clueless, she leaves me fishing without a rod. I'm totally fine with just being friends, well, that's kind of a lie, but I do enjoy being friends. Though, I don't think being friends includes wanting to hold the other's hand and looking at the other's lips and wanting to kiss them and take them on dates and treat them like royalty. I love her but I fucking hate what she does to me..."

I sigh, the confession to myself over, finally opening my eyes again. Just to see who I had actually been confessing to.

Her face remains how it had been when I had last looked at her, a small smile hiding behind her lips. Those same lips I'd been talking about kissing. I watch her slow breaths raise her shoulders up and down as she leans on my arm, the two of us still on the ground.

"So who's the lucky girl?" She asks, the sly grin contrasting the desperate and hopeful glint in her eyes.

I stare at the love of my life in front of me, our breathing the only noise emitting from the both of us. "Isn't it obvious?" I scoff with an awkward smile. The pit of my stomach filled with butterflies, a full-on prison break going on down there.

"Hm, but I want you to tell me." She smirks, slowly inching her face closer to me.

I close my eyes, releasing a deep breath, opening my eyes to Rachel closer than before. I look her in the eyes.

"It's... Victoria Chase."

"Oh my fucking God." She shoves me further into the ground while we laugh together, Rachel falling on top of me in giggles. "I hate you."

She leans in, "Now tell me." She commands, pinning my shoulders to the floor.

"It's you, Rachel Amber, I'm so fucking in love wi-" And before I knew it she was kissing me.

Her soft lips meet my own passionately, her hands placed on each side of my face, our smiles uncontrollable against each other. We pull away, her nose mere millimetres away from mine, flashing the widest grin I've ever seen, "I think I'm in love with you too, Y/n L/n."

[rosesloveletters]

Fields of Gold.

pairing: Michael Corleone x Fem. Reader

word count: 1,290

warnings: implied nudity

summary: On a quiet morning during your holiday in Sicily, you wake to the ethereal beauty of the landscape before you and to your beloved Michael. 

notes: I don’t know why I wrote this other than I love the scenery of Michael’s trip to Sicily and wanted to capture it within writing as best as I could. I hope this is decent, as I’ve never written for Michael Corleone before and probably will never do so again. I’ve had this knocking around in my drafts since May and decided it was high time I finished it up and posted. Enjoy.

The expansive Sicilian countryside stretched far and wide across your field of vision no matter which direction you faced. During the late summer months, dawn came early and, as the first slivers of sunlight began to peek beyond the sprawling horizon and warmed the skin of your face, you awoke to the realization that it must already be morning. At the first light of daybreak, your day had begun to take shape and the fading darkness was replaced with the swirling wisps of sunrise; pinks, oranges and bright yellows that reflected off the clouds and cast their glow onto the landscape below, bathing the fields and rolling hills in gold.

As time passed, the sun continued to climb higher into the clear sky, dispelling the darkness from the land below as day blended into night before your eyes. You watched the day take shape before you though the open windows on the far side of the room. The view did nothing less than take your breath away, as it always did each morning you rose to find yourself still in the same place and with the same thought still in your head: this must be what it felt like to wake among the clouds of heaven, surrounded by light and a sense that everything was good.

The scenery called to you, so enraptured with the beauty of the natural world were you that you sat up in bed and gazed out the open windows as the rest of Sicily began to follow your lead into the waking world. Everything the light touched felt within your grasp, at your fingertips that you brushed across every blade of grass and tree leaf like it were made of fine China that demanded your utmost care and gentle attention. This was the only world in which you knew what sunlight smelt like, though to put it into words was a different story. In fleeting, fanciful dreams, you imagined sunlight to smell like the pungent lemon groves of Italia, but here it smelled of heat and clean, open air after a good, hardy rain.

There was also the detection of citrus, laden on the moisture-heavy breeze that blew lazily in through the open window and billowed the stark white curtains which hung elegantly and with purpose from the rod. The bowl of oranges you’d picked the day before rested on the windowsill and you inhaled the aromatic tartness of the overripe fruit.

Golden light surrounded you. The rose-colored walls were honeyed with the rich glow the morning sunshine cast upon them, as was your bare skin that peeked beyond the rich linens that shielded your modesty. Your body felt as if it were wrapped up in silk and there was the strong possibility that it was, but your mind did not travel there.

You wouldn’t have believed it before having seen it with your own eyes, but now you couldn’t deny what was true: the ethereal beauty of the Sicilian landscape was far beyond your capabilities of understanding. All you knew for sure was what was and was not; your fluttering heartbeat and the warm body sleeping peacefully next to you were the only things which defined reality for you. If it were not for that, at least, it was most certain you were no longer among the realm of the living.

How serene it was to watch the sun rise with not a care in the world to where else you could have been for the moment. You wouldn’t have traded it for all the gold in the world. You longed to begin every day in this same fashion, to join the waking world by watching dawn break and the city slowly come alive.

Your favorite time of day was this, though no matter how beautiful or how much you wished you’d had someone to share it with, you wouldn’t dare to awaken your slumbering lover. Unbeknownst to him, the rising sun had relieved the moon of its dutiful guard as night bled into day and the warm rays bathed him in their regal majesty.

You watched him reverently, his chest rising and falling intermittently with every intake of breath and expulsion of air from his lungs. The white silk sheets pooled against his waist, an almost perfectly aligned extension of his body, highlighted by the alabaster of his skin. His nude form was impeccably chiseled; a replica of a clothing-less model in the likeness of any ancient Roman sculpture.  

The sable blackness of his hair, devoid of any such styling or gel, fanned out against the plush pillow beneath his head. He had let it grow out a bit for the duration of your holiday and you reveled in the thickness of it and the silken feel of it rippling through your fingers like ink in water.

Michael, the youngest of the Corleone siblings, had a certain undeniably boyish look to him even as a grown man. You appreciated both his appearance and the man underneath, spellbound by him despite his quiet, soft-spoken nature. This was subject to change, of course, but Michael was a force to be reckoned with; he did not need to shout or lose his temper to convey how he felt and what was most important to him. That was one of the most compelling things about the man, you felt, because Michael was a serious man that even moreserious men felt a heavy respect for.

Michael had grown into a bright and handsome young man, and of all the Corleone siblings, he most closely resembled his father in both intelligence and personality. Even though he was young, Michael’s experiences with the world were those of a man beyond his years and you knew he preferred the quiet, decidedly liking it better that way, but there was something calling him; it was in his blood. At first, he had run from it, though soon had he changed course and that brought him closer to what he ultimately knew was laid out for him long before he left for Sicily.

Your musings halted and your dreamland-haze disintegrated like sandcastles washed out by the tide as you heard a soft grunt come from him and he shifted towards you, reaching arms seeking your warm body in the large bed. You sank into the bed linens, encased within his strong arms and the sheets warmed by your shared body heat.

You laid perfectly still in his embrace and closed your eyes, the imaginings of what it would be like to lay so stilland for so long until ivy tendrils crawled across your body and flowers bloomed upon your skin. You envisioned the petals kissing your flesh, a rapt understanding now crossing your visage of why you spent so much time trying to put that feeling into words. You had never needed to before, but recognition rippled through your mind like it was a pebble having been tossed into a great pool: you were in love.

You felt as though you hadn’t moved in years; Michael made you come alive and tore away the constraints on your soul like clearing ivy off a sculpture in a neglected garden, hidden for so long its existence had been forgotten until such a lucky one had come along and revealed its beauty to the world once more.

When Michael finally opened his eyes, he did not open them to the ethereal beauty of the Sicilian landscape that so called to him, but to you. His dark, impassive eyes transformed into an inviting amber in the sunlight and he cupped your cheeks within his large hands and pressed his lips to yours in a silent ‘good morning’.

Dawn was here and so was your Michael.

[ghostlykeyes]

TANTALUS, PT. 2

As a mysterious devil claims victims across Tokyo, you struggle to come to terms with your love for your best friend, roommate, and fuckbuddy, Denji.

AO3 Link: Here! Warnings: Canon-typical violence, descriptions of corpses, casual sex, scenes with food/eating, no happy ending. Notes: No-Nayuta AU. Denji stays in Public Safety after the events of CSM. Set a few years after the end of vol. 11. Gender Neutral.

The morning you’re back at work, Ichika approaches your desk. She’s wearing a nice skirt, a perfume that smells distinctly like peony, and the sort of gentle, genuine smile you’d see on a kindergarten teacher that loves their job. She’s cute, she’s sweet, and despite your best efforts to remain neutral, you think you might hate her a little bit.

“Good morning!” She greets cheerfully, stopping a respectful distance from your desk. There’s a glass tupperware tucked in her hands, filled with something bright yellow, and you eye it suspiciously. Ichika either doesn’t notice you glaring or she doesn’t care, and offers you a short bow. “I’m so glad to see you’re back at work!”

You plaster on a smile and give her a stiff nod, but she’s already scanning the area next to your desk—where Denji usually sits. Her bright smile falters almost imperceptibly, like when the clouds flick over the sun for just a moment.

“Um,” she starts nervously, giving you a hesitant look. “Is Denji okay? He didn’t say anything about missing work today, but…”

White swims over your knuckles as your hands clench tight fists around the grip of your crutches. 

“He’s okay,” you say, silently willing your voice to stay bland, neutral. Like plain, unbuttered toast. “He’s on a trip.”

He does this trip every year at about the same time. He won’t go into specifics. Just says that he’s visiting a family grave. But your eyes don’t miss the way that his gaze hangs over the photo of Aki that’s framed up in the living room, and it tells you what Denji won’t say out loud.

You won’t push him. You never do.

It’s comforting, sometimes, knowing you’re not the only one that’s bad at talking about your feelings.

“...caring for some old relatives that got sick,” you finish, swallowing the lump in your throat. You don’t feel guilty lying to her. If he didn’t say anything to her about his trip, you’ll protect his secret. 

“Oooooooh,” Ichika nods, a pinkish glow clouding her cheeks. “That does sound like Denji—so selfless!”

You actually have to physically restrain yourself from laughing out loud. Denji, selfless. He literally stole your leftovers like, two days ago.

“Naaaah,” you say, “he pushes me out of the way to get to the shower constantly. He’s only selfless maybe, ten percent of the time.” 

Anyone else might think it’s a light joke at Denji’s expense, but there’s a challenge hidden underneath. A statement. You might be flirting with him, but I live with him, bitch. 

Ichika doesn’t notice. Or she does, and doesn’t take the bait. Instead she covers her mouth with a thin-fingered, perfectly-manicured hand and lets out a delicate, sweet laugh that’s nothing like yours. Your jaw tightens.

Once Ichika’s bell-like laugh ceases tinkling, she bows to you again. This time, she presents the Tupperware to you. You resist the urge to wrinkle your nose at it.

“Well, hopefully he’ll at least be selfless enough to share these with you. I know you’re still healing and your body needs rest and good food, but you need a treat every now and again too, you know? Otherwise life gets so bland.”

You don’t move to take it, leaning on your crutches as an excuse. She watches awkwardly for a moment, eyes darting between you and the baked goods, before she finally clears her throat semi-nervously and sets the container on the corner of your desk. “They’re lemon bars,” she fills the silence. “I thought Denji might like citrus. I hope you do as well!”

Something petty coiled up deep inside you wants to let her know that actually, lemon is one of the only things Denji turns his nose up at.

Be an adult, you tell yourself. Resist!

You plaster a smile over the twisting disdain in your gut and regard Ichika with a look that you hope is work-appropriate, and not mildly threatening. 

“Thank you,” you manage, although your voice comes out a little choked around the edges. Ichika beams at you, and bows again, and you’re reminded of a puppy.

Not the cute kind. The clingy, over-eager kind that yaps a lot. 

“I have to get back to work,” she apologizes, and a knot of tension instantly unwinds from your shoulders. “But again, I hope you heal quickly and I’m glad to have you back with us.” She begins to twirl a piece of hair around her finger. “Will…will you ask Denji to call me? Either when he gets back, or—“

“Sure.”

 She smiles thankfully and bows—that’s four, now, in a three minute conversation, she’s at an average of over one bow a minute—and the tap of her short but tastefully work-appropriate kitten heels recedes as she takes her leave. She waves shyly at you, over her shoulder, before she rounds the corner and disappears down a hallway. You offer a half-hearted wiggle of your fingers back.

You will not be asking Denji to call her. 

The interaction sticks on your mind like glue for the rest of the day. When you get home, Denji isn’t back from his trip yet, so you sit down with the glass tupperware and delicately pull a perfectly square lemon bar from the container. Gently, you take a bite from the corner. The flavor of citrus floods your mouth, and the powdered sugar dusted on top sticks softly to your fingertips.

It’s delicious, you think bitterly. Of course it is . 

You finish the lemon bar and throw the rest, tupperware and all, into the garbage can.

It wasn’t always this complicated. It used to be pretty simple, actually; Denji was your decently-attractive best friend, and you fucked every so often to take the edge off of a bad day. (And neither of you mentioned how often these bad days had become.) You’d be stupid to ruin your friendship with romance, so you didn’t even consider it. Until, well…

It wasn’t a slow fall, thick and sweet like maple syrup, in the way that some people describe the realization they’re in love. It was a stupidly normal night and you were standing on the sidewalk under the dull red glow of a cheap izakaya’s sign. Above you, the dark midnight clouds promised rain. You ignored them. You’d focused instead on a pay phone, telling Denji about the absolute disaster of a date you’d just endured. 

“So, yeah,” you drawl into the receiver, “turns out Asahi from downstairs actually has a girlfriend…”

“What the shit!?” Denji yells, and you have to pull the phone away from your ear before his outrage blows out your eardrum. “That scumbag!”

“Yeah…” you sigh. Truthfully, you couldn’t force yourself to be as disappointed as you probably should be. Asahi was nice. He always offered to help carry your groceries up the stairs. He was handsome, too, in a very plain, inoffensive way, like a bland Ken doll paired with an astronaut Barbie. And the way he laid you down in the backseat of his car felt…not bad. If one of your friends wiggled her eyebrows at you salaciously and asked y’know, how is he? you’d probably laugh shyly behind your hand and say he was good at sex.

But he didn’t do it like Denji did it.

You couldn’t figure out why that bothered you. 

But it did. It caught in your brain like a song stuck in your head, and it was definitely just as annoying, and you felt it every time Asahi’s hands started traveling up your thighs.

Not Denji. Not Denji. Not Denji.

So, truth be told you probably wouldn’t be crying over Asahi later, once you got home. Still. Two months was a long time to waste on someone else’s lies. That’s what stung, really; your wasted time.

“D’ya want me to say somethin’ to him?” Denji offers, sounding a little too excited. Knowing Denji, their ‘talk’ would end with Asahi holding a bag of frozen peas over a black eye. Which doesn’t sound too bad, honestly, except for the fact that he still lives one floor down and going around beating the shit out of the neighbors is probably not the best idea.

“It’s fine, Denj,” you assure, getting ready to call a cab. “Not worth getting in trouble. I already threw my drink on him, that’ll have to be good enough.”

“Naaawwwwww,” he drawls, and you can tell from the way his voice drags along that he’s thinking hard (which is never good). “He cheated on you.We gotta teach him a lesson he’s never gonna forget.” 

You run a hand through your hair and blow a hard sigh out of your mouth. 

“Denji,” you whine, “I really just want to go home right now. We can brainstorm another night if you’re still that invested—“

Denji cuts you off with a short bark of laughter, loud enough to make you jerk the phone away from your ear and wince. You’re about to cuss him out for the damage he’s just done to your hearing, but he’s already chattering at you again.

“Just stay there,” he instructs. “I’m gonna come pick you up.” 

You snort, at that. 

“You and what car, dipshit?” He doesn’t have a license, either. Or spare change for a cab.

“ Ten minutes! Don’t move!” He purposefully dodges your question, but before you can keep needling him his voice is replaced by a mechanical beeping. That man just hung up on you. Rude. 

So you sigh, again. You push your hair back out of your face, and you plop down on the curb, completely ignoring the grumbling of passers-by whose paths you’ve interrupted. They’ll get over it. 

Ten minutes melts into eleven, into twelve, into thirteen. Here and there, you can feel the light flcik of a raindrop on your cheek, your nose, your forehead. Seldom enough to convince you that maybe you’re imagining it, often enough to convince you that maybe it’s time to call Denji and say whatever he’s thinking, just forget it , the only thing you want to get soaked by tonight is a hot fucking shower. 

You’ve made up your mind to bail when it weaves its reckless way through traffic, rolling to a chaotic stop in front of you. You’d recognize the blacked out windows and crack in the bumper anywhere. Asahi’s car. 

Three things happen, then, that shock you equally, but all in different ways.

First, the window rolls down, and it’s Denji sitting in the driver’s seat, not Asahi. He’s wearing a shark-tooth-shit-eating grin (the one you usually see after he beats the shit out of a devil and there’s a pretty girl in a skirt crying ‘thank you’), and his pajamas.

Second, he tries to put the thing in park, but he accidentally pushes when he should’ve pulled and Asahi’s car slams into the parked car ahead of him. An alarm instantly screams and his eyes go wide and yes, this is probably a sufficient explanation why he can’t pass a driver’s training test. 

“Goddamnit!” He bursts, and at this point pedestrians are starting to crowd around the minor accident, necks craning to get a better view of the chaos. You know that you should probably be scrambling off the curb and getting the hell away from the crumpled back-end of this Honda, but you can’t move. 

Because of the third shock. 

Which has you absolutely frozen to the sidewalk.

And it’s that your heart did a flip in your chest when you saw that window sliding down, and it was Denji’s messy hair and sparking eyes on the other side. Something young and carefree, but relieved. Like it had just figured out the trick behind an optical illusion it had been staring at for embarrassingly long.

Something unmistakably romantic.

“Yer ride’s here!” His laugh shakes out of the rolled-down window, pushing through the crowd. It’s enough to thaw you out of the trance. Pedestrian voices crowd your ears as you stumble to your feet.

“ Holy shit, did he just hit that guy on purpose?”

“Why isn’t he getting out of the car?”

“I think maybe somebody should call the authorities…”

“ Jesus Christ, Denji,” you hiss, under your breath. You’re throwing elbows and shoving through people and tasting panic as you realize there’s a police station nearby. Thankfully Denji’s had the bright idea to fling open the passenger door for you, in service of a hasty getaway. The leather seats squeak against your thighs as you scramble in. You yank the door shut behind you, hard enough that the slam seems to shake and ripple through the watchers outside.

“What the fuck,” you wheeze. “How did you even—“

“Dumbass leaves his spare key in his potted plant, just like we do,” Denji cackles. 

“Wouldn’t that make us dumbasses, too?” 

But Denji doesn’t answer. He gives you a quick shrug, and then his hand splays out over the back of your seat. A whiff of the generic “man” scented soap he uses just barely tickles your nose. Heat explodes across your cheeks—here it is again. That romantic feeling. Your eyes catch on the slope of his nose; how his lip is pulled between his dagger teeth in concentration. He’s craning his neck, trying to back up. Denji’s rough hands spin the wheel gentle but firm. The air is too warm and the inside of the car is too small and all you have to do to kiss him is lean in, just a little bit, it could happen so quick—

But then Denji’s heavy foot is a little too eager on the gas, and the crunch of metal shatters the moment like glass. Both of you lurch forward. Your hand shoots out to steady yourself on the dash. 

“Fuck!” Denji yells from the driver’s seat. 

Of course he reversed into the goddamn car behind you.

“Oh my fucking god,” you moan, head falling into your hands. This is probably how you die. Not in a blaze of glory ripping down a devil, but in your douchebag ex’s stolen car. Beside you, Denji is just overflowing with laughter. 

“Oh, this shit is not gonna be driveable by the time we’re done with it.” He grabs your leg, right above your knee, and he jostles you. Like he’s trying to shake the uneasiness right out. And somehow, it works a little. His eyes lock on yours, and they glow brighter than all the neon signs up and down this strip of bars, combined. Your heart stumbles again. 

Why is it doing that? What is going on with you?

But it doesn’t matter, because you’re laughing. He’s vibrating with laughter and excitement and the unmistakable thrill of grand theft auto, so you are, too. Denji’s infectious. He floods you completely and all of your concerns and inhibitions wash away. Just like that; in one open-mouth grin. His hands grip the wheel again and he steps on the gas. 

Fuck it. Stealing your ex’s car suddenly sounds like a great idea. Who cares if a hundred people just saw you barrel into two other cars? The police don’t do shit to devil hunters, anyway. You’ll probably be fine. (Unless this night somehow devolves from petty car theft to murder, or something, and in that case, well. Did anyone ever really like Asahi, anyway?)

Denji’s more careful with you in the passenger seat. Both of his hands wrap firmly around the steering wheel, and he’s cautious not to pound the brakes at red lights. He always checks his blind spot before smoothly merging lanes; your eyes always stumble on the smooth slope of his adam’s apple as his neck stretches. You’ve had your mouth on that neck maybe a hundred times, but something about it feels brand-new inside the bubble of this moment. It tickles something in your core. Something camping out between hunger and want. Something delicious, and entirely too much to handle. 

You close your eyes. Denji lit a cigarette maybe three miles back, and the smoke mixes with his soap and threads through your nostrils. Guitar notes from Denji’s favorite song rip out of the car radio, volume cranked as far as the knob would budge. The highway air stings your skin. The night is warm, just beyond your rolled-down window, and the rain has backed off but left a humid taste and smell lingering behind. The atmosphere hums kindly and warmly like the Friday night of a weekend trip. Inside the car, work doesn’t exist, and you never have to worry about what to make for dinner, and shitty cheating ex-boyfriends mean absolutely nothing.

There’s only Denji.

And when you open your eyes again, you know.

You are in love.

Denji abruptly cuts the ribbon of highway off when you’re a handful of miles outside the city, when the streetlights have melted into tall, swaying trees. The car glides to a comfortable stop on the side of the road, facing a steep, jagged drop-off. Denji twists the key in the ignition, and the engine mutters into silence

“Should we shove the car down there?” He asks.

“I think it would be a shame to leave it up here where anyone could just, take it or something,” you reason. 

Both of you scramble out of the car, squeaking against the leather seats and bubbling over with giggles. Denji spreads his hands against the car's back end. His lean back muscles stretch under his fog-grey pajama shirt in a way that makes sweat bead up on the palms of your hands. You throw your shoulder into the car, bowing your head; half to help push, half to hide the heat consuming your cheeks. 

“Think it’ll explode?” 

“Oh,” you laugh, “I really hope so.”

Denji’s packed with muscle and so the wheels turn obediently. He gives a grunt and swears once or twice and the front tires are already at the edge, sending loose gravel skittering down the cliff face. It takes one good, hard shove and then the car is tipping dangerously for a moment. Denji snatches your hand and scrambles backwards. For a very slow-moving second, Asahi’s car trembles and leans, like it’s trying to decide if it really wants to tumble down or not. Despite the fact that there’s a literal car about to to roll down a cliff to its death, you’re distracted. Asahi’s car is nothing compared to the gentle pink of Denji’s lips. Inside this moment, they are everything. Your world is neatly packed into the warm comfort of the way his mouth stretches to fit his smile. You want to kiss him, hard. So that he knows without any words that you love him. 

Wholly, passionately, forever.

And then the car makes up its mind to fall. It tips over the edge and performs a dramatic somersault, and the crumpling metal is probably the loudest thing you’ve ever heard. The glass shatters into a fine glittering stardust and the stench of gasoline stings your senses. Beside you, Denji yells holy shit! and leans over the edge to watch the car come apart. The shark-tooth grin on his face is so wide and so sharp you think it might be permanent. Your heart squeezes, and you don’t ask why.

It’s weird, considering you found out you’d been cheated on maybe two hours ago, but this might be the best night of your life.

The car doesn’t explode, unfortunately, but it was a good show and you can’t complain. After it screeches to a deafening stop at the bottom of the ravine, you flee. At first, you break into a jog—probably don’t want to get caught near the smoking wreck of a stolen car, after all—but Denji shrugs at you, stuffs his hands into his pajama pockets, and smiles lazily.

“C’mon, man,” he calls, footsteps easy and slow. “Nice night. Why not enjoy the walk back?” 

The stars stretch out in a thick bright blanket, and the cool night air blows across you so kindly, like it knows you’re in love. He’s right. You make a big show of rolling your eyes, and heaving a big sigh, but you jog back to his side anyway. He shakes a hand out of his pocket, and snakes a warm arm over your shoulders. You sigh, happy. Life has never tasted so sweet.

It’s a long walk back to Tokyo, but Denji’s skinny arm is slung around your shoulders the entire way, so you don’t mind a single step.

[eyeslikewatercoolers]

“Oh, I see. Is someone a little scared?” with anarcia

Remember when I said I had pupaphobia/pediophobia the other day? Well, this is me projecting my own weird phobia onto Anetra. (Because that counts as exposure therapy, right?) Also, there's a Jankie cameo here!

Quick PSA: Don't fake a migraine to get out of dealing with your fears.

"Oh I see, is someone a little scared?" Marcia turned from their side of the room they were working on after Anetra asked for the fourth time if they could switch rooms with someone else.

Anetra sighed as she turned away from the box of extra porcelain dolls in the closet. "It's a really stupid fear. I've had it since I was a kid."

"Why didn't you tell me before? You've known about my fear of spiders since we moved in together." Marcia said as they gave their girlfriend an empathetic look as they closed one of the boxes labeled 'To Be Sold", and sat next to Anetra on the floor.

She shrugged, "It's kinda hard to tell people that puppets and dolls are too creepy for me without getting laughed at." she said quietly, so Marcia's family in the house wouldn't hear.

"I'm never going to laugh at something that scares you, Netra." they said as they reached over to Anetra's hand and laced their hands together.

Anetra looked at the box again, piled with the dolls that she could hardly get through. The ever-staring eyes and the slightly open mouths of the dolls never settled right with her. It wasn't a fear that she had to deal with on a daily basis, but it was a little embarrassing to admit to others.

"Why did your great-grandma have to have a collection of dolls? Why couldn't she have, like a pottery collection or something?" Anetra asked, gesturing to the display on the wall.

"No idea, I barely knew Grandma Connie." Marcia shrugged. "She only sent money to Jan and I on our birthdays and sometimes sent Christmas cards."

After a few moments of comfortable silence, with Anetra resting her head on Marcia's shoulder. They both heard some of Marcia's family members in the hall, passing down full boxes.

"I guess we should get back to work. There's still work to do for the estate sale tomorrow." Anetra said as she kneeled and dug through the box, trying to get through it as soon as possible.

Marcia smiled as they kneeled next to the redhead, looking through the box as well. They heard Anetra sigh and curse under her breath once she reached closer to the bottom.

"What's wrong?"

Anetra pulled out a small toy with bright yellow fur and big eyes. "It's a damn Furby."

Marcia felt a shiver down their spine, "That's from my cousin, Lemon. She loved those as a kid, but I still find them creepy."

"Yeah, there's a whole bunch of these in this box." Anetra sighed as she sat in her kneeling position. "It's going to take me forever to get through all this, at this rate."

Marcia gave her a look, an idea suddenly coming to their head "You know, we wouldn't have to do this if you had a migraine right now."

Anetra thought for a moment, keeping her voice low, "Are you suggesting that I fake a migraine to get us out of helping clear out this house?"

Before Marcia could answer, another voice from the hall interrupted them.

"You have a migraine?" They both looked to see Marcia's sister-in-law, Jackie, carrying a stack of hanging clothes.

In a panic, Anetra nodded "Yeah, I get them sometimes."

Which wasn't a total lie, she just didn't have one right now.

Jan suddenly appeared behind her wife, leaning closer to the door frame. "Why don't you and Marcia go home for the day? We can take care of the rest of this room, no big deal." she offered.

Anetra and Marcia shared a look before Anetra squinted her eyes and put a hand on her temple "These lights are getting so bright, I think we should get going before I feel like puking."

After several minutes, the couple made it back to the car, and both started giggling as soon as the doors were shut.

"And I thought I was the actress here," Marcia said in between fits of laughter, kissing Anetra's cheek as Anetra started the car.

[faintingheroine]

Hey, I've finished reading Aşk-ı Memnu last night! I've really enjoyed it, so I'm grateful to you for posting about this novel so much and sparking my interest in it. I have several questions I'd like to ask and thoughts I'd like to share about it, but I fear that putting them all in one single ask would make for a rather messy and disorganized post, so I'll probably send them to you one at a time in the future (so that I may also ruminate further on the novel, and maybe come up with additional questions and observations). Here's one question for now: what do you think was the reason for Beşir hesitation to reveal about Bihter and Behlül's affair to Adnan Bey, if he had been aware of it for some time? When he finally disclose it in the last chapter he seems confused and regretful about this delay himself, so I wondered what could have been the (probably unconscious) reason for it. I have come up with a few hypothesis, but I'm not really convinced about them, so I'd like to know if you, having examined the book much more deeply and for a longer time than I did, have some insight on this topic.

Hi! I am really glad that you enjoyed it.

I did answer a similar ask about this before (I think it was sent by @princesssarisa ) but it is very hard for me to find it now so I will answer the question again.

Some possible reasons:

1) This book was originally serialized. I think it is possible that it didn’t occur to the author to make Beşir a witness until Chapter 18 or so, and by then it was too late to write in an excuse for him to not reveal this to Adnan Bey. I don’t really think this is the reason, Beşir’s name means “the one who brings good news” and I think despite the little page time accorded to him, it is clear from the start that he will eventually have a more significant role. But I am still mentioning this possibility for the sake of fairness.

2) My own opinion on this is that Beşir is loyal to Nihal and to Nihal only. He doesn’t care to reveal the affair to Adnan Bey until it negatively effects Nihal.

I detailed how I think that his loyalty and love towards Nihal is a coping mechanism in the post about Beşir that I tagged you in. He chooses to obey Nihal. Multiple times in the book, Bülent orders Beşir to do something, Beşir doesn’t really want to do it and looks at Nihal to get her opinion about it. When Nihal gives her assent to him doing that thing, he does it happily. This is a perfect illusion of choice. Beşir does not really have the luxury of not doing what Bülent wants him to do, but by pretending that his only master/mistress is Nihal whom he loves, he makes his subordination more bearable. This is why he doesn’t feel loyalty to the other members of the family and only reveals the affair when it harms Nihal. This is my opinion.

3) I don’t really believe in this either, but possibly he didn’t actually want Bihter to get hurt? This is a huge thing that can even kill Bihter when it is revealed. At the start of the book Bihter is nice to Beşir:

“A parasol,’ he said gently, ‘little hanım, you did not buy a parasol!…’

Then, when they were standing, thinking before the fabrics for the sheet, he kept interfering in these thoughts with his ever-timid voice, with apprehensive touches of his cowardly hands, leaning and pointing over there, to the other stand, where some other ladies had decided on a fabric of light navy with pale, lemon yellow stripes.

‘Look, how beautiful, won’t you buy some of that?’ he was saying quietly to Nihal.

Suddenly Nihal lost her patience. ‘But Beşir, will you be quiet? We are thinking of something for a sheet…’

Beşir drew back. In the way he had of retreating, there was the skittishness of a cat who had been slapped on the head, and all of a sudden Nihal found such pity in this skittishness that she was instantly regretful. Looking at Beşir, she said, ‘if you like it so much, we will make the dress from that.’

Bihter did not think that fabric was too bad either. ‘Well done, Beşir,’ she was saying.”

(Chapter 5)

Bihter’s kindness towards Beşir gradually erodes as the book goes on, which I think shows us her gradual moral erosion. But possibly Beşir never actually starts to hate her until Nihal has a near-death experience.

His introduction to giving his testimony about the affair is “They are killing the little mistress”, not “They are betraying you (Adnan Bey)”. I think that’s the crux of the issue.

***

A related question might be asking why Beşir gets sick and depressed in the last chapters of the book? Is it because of the prospect of Nihal marrying or because of him witnessing the affair? If it is the latter it means that this secret weighs on him on some level, which makes him staying silent about it make even less sense.

And why he insists on going back to the mansion with Nihal instead of staying at the Island? Is it because he doesn’t want to be separate from Nihal for any moment or is it because he finally decided to reveal the affair so that Nihal won’t marry Behlül? Maybe part of him wants to reveal the affair and put an end to this marriage talk due to jealousy whereas another part of him doesn’t want Nihal to be sad?

I think we can find motives for Beşir’s behavior if we actively think about it, but it is true that it is one of the more vague and less satisfactorily developed parts of the book. I still like it though as I like everything about this book. “They are killing the little mistress, I will tell you everything” is a great and iconic line to me in Turkish.