#At least I have the next 2 days off...I need a little more pondering and quiet...bc I don't get it...

[amariemelody]

This morning, how the hell did we have a legit Code Blue during shift change, got 15+ people in & out the room (including me, bringing the saline flushes and gloves), the monitor is still showing asystole (AKA flatline/heartbeat) for this poor old lady even after 3 rounds of chest compressions...

...And you're going to try to walk right on by with your backpack on and car keys in hand? You could only "try" because I know you doubled back and went out on the other side so people wouldn't see you walking out during a Code.

I don't...I get that I now work in a hospital and I'm Going To See Some Shit, but I don't...understand people right now.

I don't understand.

I drove home crying this morning.

[sp1d3rzz]

The Devil's Bride

Ryōmen Sukuna

Warning!! : Mentions of death/killing, forced marriage, and basically Sukuna being an asshole and having no respect for reader.

Summary : After Sukuna reclaims his throne and becomes known as the King of Curses once again, he decides on bringing forth a Queen. You

A/N : I somewhat switch pov's during this so don't get confused. Part 2 coming soon!!

Days have passed since Sukuna has once reclaimed his throne. Yet, he seems to be bored out of his mind. There's nothing to occupy him from his apathy.

Sure, he has countless people at his feet he can order to do as he pleases. But what's the fun in that? He needs something exciting to happen. Something to fill his empty pit of boredom.

He contemplates on whether or not he should start a war, find more slaves soldiers to do his bids, or perhaps even go on a killing spree somewhere random in this dark, dark world. Better yet— why not just kill everyone??

Well, not yet at least.

His teeth grind together and his fists clench in annoyance to this endless pit of nothing he can't seem to shake off.

But just before he rips someone's eyes out with his bare nails from frustration, he forges an idea. And with that idea, comes a no-good smirk spreading across his face.

What does every king have in every fairytale, movie, and book? That's correct. A Queen.

"You." His thundering voice reaches the ears of a guard who could be approximately 52ft ahead of him. "Come here." he motions with his fingers.

Almost immediately, the soldier makes his way up the steps and to the throne of his King. "Yes, my Lord?"

Sukuna makes a simple face of boredom, supporting his head with a propped up fist. "Gather 5 of my best soldiers and find me my Queen." his eyes squint, which silently says 'Hurry it up.'

And without another word, the guard takes off to seek out to the Kings orders.

Not many people could get in the mind of Ryōmen Sukuna. To understand what goes on in that so called empty mind of his is mildly impossible. But, taking a wild guess, the soldier puts together things the King takes an interest in.

Power, Control, and Cruelty.

To find a Queen fit to the Kings likings, she must be innocent. A girl who can't stand up for herself, but when she attempts to, she cowards out.

A girl who needs someone to make the decisions for her. But also a girl who has a little spark in her soul. A spark that can carry her to victory no matter the battle.

This shall be the woman who Sukuna finds quite delightful.

The next step was finding a girl who fits this description.

While this soldier is pondering off into space, he almost forgets about his group of men. Which, he's surprised to see catch up to him with a younger looking woman.

"P-Please!! Let me go!" she sobs, loud enough the birds in the trees fly away and flee from the scene.

Tears flow down her cheeks and onto the dirt. Her clothes are scrunched up and dirty, most likely from how roughly his men handled her. And her breathing is so uneven, she might just pass out.

"I swear I'll never tell a soul—" hic! ",if you just let me go!"

There's two men on each side of her, both practically dragging her through the ground. "We found her out here by herself. She seems to be lost." The one on the left inquires.

Once she's dragged to be met face to face with the lead soldier, he grins.

She's a mess. Forehead so sweaty strands of her hair stick to it. Panting so rapidly, she might use up all the air she has left in her lungs.

The soldier takes one last look at the girl, eyes scanning her over, just to analyze how fit she is to take the role as Sukuna's Queen.

"What do you want for me?! Why– why are you doing this!" the girl begs to know any sort of information. Anything to get a grasp on herself.

No one responds.

She looks to her sides, expecting any kind of answer. But is instead met with the men completely ignoring her.

"She'll do perfectly."

Heavy footsteps echo throughout your head, which by now has been ruined with a horrible headache. Lucky you.

It's hard to tell how long you've been out for. If they've hurt you, or if you've somehow died and awoken in the after life.

The only thing you're sure of is how much pain is coursing through your body. It's to the point you're numb all over and you can barely lift your head up. Barely lift a finger for that matter.

"My lord." A familiar voice rings in your ear and back out. "Your Queen." Another one seems to say in-front of you.

In a desperate attempt to figure out what the hell is happening, you weakly lift your head, blinking a couple of times to regain your focus.

Your vision still remains slightly blurry, but you're only able to make out a set of stairs. Stairs that lead to what seems to be a throne. And in that throne, sits a man.

As you concentrate on this mysterious man, your vision slowly begins to recover.

He has spiky pink hair, long black nails, two eyes on one side, with a plated set of 2 more next to it, and 4 arms? His chiseled shirtless body seems to be tattooed with stripes and dots on each of his shoulders. No, no, this can't be right.

"Bring her here." his voice practically echoes into the air.

Your eyes widen to this sudden command, and you wiggle your arms, attempting to loosen yourself of the men who have you a strict hold over you.

Though it seems to not work, because the men ignore you and continue to their orders. Step by step, the men take you to who appears to be the lead of this whole situation. The man who looks to be the devil himself.

In protest, you kick your feet a little, trying to gain balance and hopefully escape wherever you've been brought to.

But before you can successfully break away, it's too late.

You're met with the horrifying (but somewhat sexy) face of the man who has caused you all of this misery. You scowl at him, which in return earns you a small look of satisfaction.

Disgusting.

His men hold you up to him like a piece of meat, dangling you in-front of his nose as if he was meant to devour you with one swift bite.

His eyes scan up and down your figure. Almost like he's purposely invading your personal space. "Pretty little thing, aren't you?" his words taunt you in a sense you'd never thought you'd feel.

You avert your eyes from his. Turning your head away so he's only in view of your cheek. You're mentally unable to face him.

The prideful moment you had was quickly interrupted. With one swift move of his arm, his hand snatches your chin and snaps you back so you can looking him eye to eye. "Did I say you could look away?" he growls.

His sharp nails press into your skin, making you wince. With how tight his grip is on you, it feels like your skin might tear.

His brows scrunch together lightly as his eyes lock with yours.

"I-"

"Silence." he's quick to cut you off.

Your mouth closes shut almost instantly, and your head drops once he releases you from his grasp. Pathetic.

Everything hurts so much. Your head, your body, and apparently your voice now too.

Small whispers spread around you. From one person to another, you can hear all sorts of comments the strange people are making about you.

If the men holding you up right now were to let go of you, you're sure you would collapse and never get back up again. Fall into an endless abyss and never awaken.

"Take her to the cellar. I shall deal with her later." he orders.

You groan a little when the men tighten their arms around yours. But your vision fades back to nothing as they take you away.

It's been hours.

Hours of crying, screaming, and wishing upon your own death. To end this confusing mess that has somehow been brought upon to you.

You're curled up in the corner of the cell, cold walls and bars keeping you away from whatever source of life might be out there.

It almost pitch black in the haunting cellar. The only things in sight is your arms, which wrap around your legs to pull yourself into a tight ball.

Everything feels dirty. You feel dirty.

Small droplets of damp moisture fall from the ceiling and hit the rough concrete. Your skin is hot, tingling up your bones to the point you might overheat.

Your mouth is dry, deprived from the lack of water you've had in the past week or so.

Before you were captured, you were on the run from home, escaping the endless chains of torment your parents had put you through.

It might have been a stupid decision, especially since you had no where to go at the time, but it had to happen. Your life wasn't meant to be lived like that, and neither was it for this life.

Your eyes close shut, mind struggling to block out the unbearable sound of water meeting cold, hard, ground. It itches down your skin with every fall.

Abruptly, the creak of a wooden door captures your attention quickly. Lifting your head up out of curiosity to see who's there.

"H-Hello..?" You call out, but it seems useless since no one replies anyways. Though you know someone has to be there. The evidence of lingering footsteps tells enough.

Seconds pass by to what seems to be an eternity before the footsteps stop in-front of your cage cell.

Everything, including the man in-front of you, seems so unreal.

He doesn't say anything, just stares down at you as if you were just some dirt on the floor.

"What do you want from me!" You shout at him, but it appears to get you no answer except a irritating frown.

Your teeth are gritted together, and it take everything out of you to not pounce at him. Well, not like you have the strength or energy to do so anyways.

He rests his bottom two arms on his hip, and crosses his other two over his bare chest. "Y'know, you're starting to piss me off."

A moment of silence rests between the two of you before he finally speaks up again.

"What's your name?" it's more of a demand than a question, but you don't care. You don't owe him anything.

And once again, another pass of silence flows by.

He raises a brow, giving you another chance to answer. But, it seems you wont of any use for the time being.

"Name's Sukuna, but you can call me your King."

His words catch you by surprise, lifting your eyes up in a shockingly manner. "W-What..?" you have to confirm what he just said was actually him and not just an imaginary voice in your head.

He let's out a huff, shaking his head to your stupidity. "Do you know why you were brought here?"

Well obviously not, or else you wouldn't have been taken aback to his statement. "No, I don't."

"You were brought here to stand beside me as I rule over this.. kingdom of mine."

And just like that, his words crash and bring down your whole life. Everything you've been through, fought for, and accomplished are all worth nothing. It was all useless.

"No, I refuse–"

A hand slams down on the bars, causing you to flinch. "I don't remember asking how you felt, did I?"

Immediately, you go quiet. The hurtful beating of heart being the only sound audible as he glares down at you from behind the bars.

"Tomorrow shall be the wedding. I'll have my men bring you to me first thing in the morning."

Leaving you no time to protest, question, or even give him a snarky reply, he disappears.

You're left all alone, mind now pounding with how quick this is all happening. You have no say in anything, it seems.

Nothing seems to matter when you feel your eyes flutter close. Too exhausted to reject this rest, you fall asleep.

Thank you for reading! I'll try to have part 2 out as soon as possible (which contains the smut 👀) but I hope you guys enjoyed this so far ^^ Reblogs are also greatly appreciated 💗💗

[gamblersdoll]

𝓳𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓮𝓵𝔂!- 2

the words with the question stuck out more than anything. ‘are you in a relationship?’ rung through his head for weeks at a time. he could have just said no, but then, couldnt it be disrespectful to you?

shit, now he sounds delusional since you aren’t dating him.

he sat in his office most of the day, just pondering on the question and the fact that he couldnt even respond right. he also fucked himself bad when he clicks on your ‘Instagram’ and sees you in your pretty bikini top.

only just the fact you had your arm around some other man, who just so happened to be a classmate. no biggie right? couldnt be.

yet, he kept staring at you. he stares at the birthmark right on your sternum, the small birth mark in your arm and throat. he’s seen them before, but its so much different now.

shit, he was off the deep end for you. and the whole thought process of how youre only a little bit younger than him, and the scandal he could put you in since you were in a mentorship with him. he needs to save people, he wants to. yet, he’s debating on if they mean that much like you.

he also hated how hot it can get in japan, weather sitting at a ninety nine degree temperature at night. both you and him were patrolling since tokoyami was underage and couldnt be out.

thank god that he brought water though, the good kind at that.

“so uh, how was the beach, little one?” hawks mindlessly asked, looking around while you did the same.

“it was fine, it was just somewhat crowded and hot. i dont even know why i went.” you say, you reminded everyone that depending on what temperature it was outside, you could go. heat wasnt one, you hated it.

“ah, well, it is a beach.” he replied back, gathering himself back next to you. “any fun this weekend?”

“i dont know yet. probably not.” you say, shrugging it off and walking beside him. the cool breeze goes through your hair, you sighing in relief that you could at least feel it through your clothes as well.

shit, she’s free this weekend? he thought to himself, ever so occasionally side eyeing you to see if you were looking at him, were you looking at him? no. damnit.

his hands get sweaty in his gloves, him feeling like some highschool kid in love with the popular pretty girl who just so happened to give him a chance. he clears his throat and looks away from you to see anything else.

fuck, you were actually shorter than him, so you were actually a little one… which only turns him on more. he wasnt a big build, but he was still somewhat bigger than you.

“you wanna.. grab something to eat?” he asked, pointing to the ramen shop up the street and smiled. “its on me this time since you basically saved my ass yesterday.”

but you practically saved him in general.

“yeah, sure!” you say, cheerful that they’ll have so much air conditioning inside the shop. plus, youre craving a good ramen.

he also gathers that you do a little ‘happy dance’ when you finally get food. you wiggle side to side in your seat, a relaxed sigh in your throat and, your mood increases. do you even know you do this? probably not. shit, you probably do, you do this just so he can say something about you.

the fuck is wrong with me? he questions that daily, and he can only think about that one question until your body spray wafts into his nose, causing a dopamine rush to his brain and he has to stop himself from his eyes rolling back into his head.

fuck, was he some damn addict?

there’s hints of some fruit, he doesnt get what though. he also smells coconut and now hes only curious, pausing on eating his food. hes gotta know what it is, he had to. he cant just ask you because thatll seem weird. it seem creepy for your mentor asking what body spray you use.

was he actually going to find a time to sneak in and find out for himself later?

[trendywaifus]

imagine you and qingque making out in her office and get caught by fu xuan. cw: none. implied poly

“ i think we should stop before fu xuan catches us.” you suggested in–between kisses, nervously glancing over at the door. qingque whines, holding you closer to her body and peppers your face with kisses. “ c’mon babe, it’s my work office. she knows i’m not here that often. “ you sighed, gently pushing her back by the shoulders to look her straight in the eyes, qingque pouts.

“ so, the times where you were in your office, does she come to check up on you? “ you inquired, unsure of her assurance. she laughs awkwardly, giving you a goofy smile. “ y-yeah, but fu xuan almost always visits my office when it’s my nap time! i usually nap here to replenish my energy!” rolling your eyes, you squished her cheeks, making her face smush together adorably. “ so you’re telling me that you only use your work office to nap—wait, what time is your nap time?”

“ u-uh, twhoo thwirty? “

you peered over at the electronic clock on her desk. it’s only 2:15pm so you have at least fifteen minutes to spare. “ bwabe, cwan youu lwet goo uhf mwy fwace noww? it hwurts. “ she whines, looking at you with pleading eyes. you let out a deep sigh and released her from your hold. “ sorry, qingque. to be frank, i shouldn’t be here. i’m suppose to be with the general but, i don’t feel like hearing his babbling and old man yawns today. i’m quite sure he has already contacted our other woman about my absence. i better leave before she comes here— “

qingque holds your waist tighter, “ w-we still have time, right? just five more minutes, please? i don’t get to see you until the next six hours! i need my daily dose of (name)! “ she begs, giving you the puppy eyes. you paused for a moment, pondering over the current situation. if you stay now, you get to spend a little more time with your slacker girlfriend. but, you’re also in risk of getting in trouble by your other strict girlfriend. if you leave now, you avoid the scolding but you have to tolerate your boss being a sly bum for the rest of the day.

yeah, the former’s better.

you said nothing and pulled her into a kiss. qinque let out a small noise of celebration and kisses back ardently. the next few minutes were filled with nothing but small giggles and obnoxious sounds of kissing. you two entirely forgot about being mindful which led to you not noticing the door fly open and a familiar voice shouting into the office.

“ (name) and qinque! what are you two doing?! “

like deers caught in headlights, your heads whip towards the doorway, looking absolutely dumbfounded and lips completely swollen. fu xuan crosses her arms, tapping her foot impatiently with an angry expression on her face. “ and (name), general jingyuan is looking for you! do you know how worried i was when he informed me of your absence?! i attempted to call you and your phone immediately went to voicemail! and you, qingque, i tried to message you about their possible whereabouts and you didn’t even answer me back! so i came straight here to find you—o-only to see you two fools shoving your tongues down each other’s throats like no tomorrow! explain yourselves because you two are in big trouble! especially you, (name)! “

you quickly rose from your chair, “ w-well, first thing first, we were not shoving our tongues into each other’s throats, fu! w-we were um—“

“ yeah, we were! “ qinque chimes, casually standing up from her seat.

“ wh-what the hell, don’t tell her that—“

“ we were too busy sucking each other’s faces off that we didn’t notice any of our notifications. matter of fact, we ignored your calls and texts, hoping that you’ll come here to find us! we want you to join us, our dear lady fu! “

you caught second hand embarrassment from seeing the astonished look on fu xuan’s now beet red face.

[deliciousangelfestival]

Tears In His Ferrari || Chp 4 - B.Barnes

Character: Bucky Barnes x Farmer!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, used to a life of luxury, takes on farm challenges in a bet with his father. Mud-stained Ferraris and a rustic farmhouse lead to unexpected personal growth, guided by the stern mentorship of Y/N, a farmer making his city-boy life difficult.

Theme: Fluff, Slice of Life, Heart-Warming.

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7 ,Chp 8 , Chp 9 , Chp 10 , Chp 11 , Chp 12.

Bucky continued his day, the camera capturing every step of his farm journey. "Hey, everyone! It's Bucky Barnes, and today, we're diving into the thrilling world of farm life," he exclaimed to the camera, showcasing the vast expanse of the fields and the tractor humming in the background. He shifted the camera to reveal the small puppy nestled in his lap, earning an "Aww" from his audience.

As Bucky planted the barley seeds meticulously, he shared insights about the process and his challenges. The puppy, seemingly entranced by the rustling leaves and the tractor's rhythmic hum, added charm to the vlog.

With the barley seeds successfully sown, Bucky moved on to the next task—planting potatoes. He mused to the camera, "Now, this is where having an extra pair of hands would really come in handy. Note to self: consider hiring farm help if I ever figure out how to get my bank account back."

The puppy, content in Bucky's lap, became a recurring star in the vlog, eliciting heartwarming comments from viewers. Bucky couldn't help but smile at the positive reactions and the genuine interest his audience showed in his newfound farm companion.

When lunchtime arrived, Bucky parked the tractor and headed home, pondering what to eat. The realization hit him—he couldn't cook. The luxury of having meals prepared or ordering takeout was a distant memory.

Bucky sighed, acknowledging the need to learn basic cooking skills to survive this farm adventure. He decided to keep things simple for now, opting for something that required minimal culinary finesse. 

To his surprise, Bucky entered his house, and Y/N's horse was standing near the entrance gate. He couldn't help but chuckle at the unexpected sight, wondering if the horse had decided to be the official guardian of his newfound home.

As he stepped inside, the aroma of home-cooked food wafted through the air. Samantha, Y/N’s mother, placed a food container on his kitchen counter. She greeted him warmly. Bucky, still holding the camera for his vlog, smiled appreciatively.

"Hey, Bucky! We thought you might need a little help in the food department," Samantha said with a friendly tone.

Bucky chuckled, feeling a twinge of guilt. "I appreciate it, but I don't want to be a burden, getting free food all the time."

Samantha waved off his concern. "Oh, don't you worry about that. Your father has taken care of everything. It's the least we can do to help out a neighbor."

Bucky nodded, grateful for the kindness shown by his unexpected neighbors. The support from Y/N's family was becoming a comforting constant in his journey into the unknown world of farming.

Samantha continued, "You're part of this community now, Bucky. We look out for each other. Consider it a warm welcome."

With a sincere smile, Bucky thanked Samantha and decided to capture this heartwarming moment for his vlog.

But Bucky couldn't help but feel embarrassed as Samantha mentioned that his father had taken care of everything. The realization that his father had prepared not only the essentials for him but also arranged for the delicious meals brought a mix of gratitude and a hint of embarrassment.

Bucky gently put the puppy down, who had already awakened from its peaceful slumber. The little furball seemed to be adjusting well to its new surroundings.

With thoughts of taking the puppy to town for essentials and a check-up, Bucky shared his appreciation for the meal. "These are delicious. If I ever own a restaurant, I'd hire you as the chef," he complimented Samantha.

Samantha giggled at the compliment, but then she dropped a surprising revelation. "Thank you, but it wasn't me who made it. It was my daughter Y/N."

Bucky, mid-bite, raised his eyebrows in astonishment. He hadn't expected Y/N to be the culinary mastermind behind the delectable dishes. The realization caught him off guard, and for a moment, he found himself slightly choked on his food, a mixture of surprise and admiration written across his face.

As Y/N entered with a bag of dog food and a small mattress, effortlessly juggling both items, Bucky couldn't help but be impressed by her multitasking skills. She seemed to carry the weight of responsibility effortlessly, efficiently handling practical tasks.

Curious about the puppy, Y/N inquired, "Where's the dog?" Bucky pointed towards the little furball resting under the table.

Y/N gently picked up the puppy and efficiently settled it on the provided mattress. She then gave the dog milk, showcasing a caring side that caught Bucky off guard.

Observing Y/N's nurturing actions, Bucky couldn't help but appreciate her help. Despite her annoyance at being involved in his farming endeavor, she proved genuinely helpful and caring. However, the pleasant atmosphere turned unexpectedly when Y/N dropped the bomb, "Eat quickly, it looks like it's going to rain."

The news of impending rain dampened Bucky's bright mood. The unpredictable weather added a layer of challenge to his farming adventure, and the reality of rural life began to set in.

As Y/N predicted, the rain arrived, interrupting Bucky's progress on planting the crop seeds. Despite not completing the task, he found solace in the fact that the barley seeds he had managed to plant earlier would benefit from the rain, ensuring faster growth.

Feeling a sense of accomplishment, Bucky returned home to refresh himself. The puppy beside him provided a comforting companionship, making him feel less isolated in this rural setting. The soothing sound of rain outside created a calming ambiance.

Embracing the opportunity presented by the weather, Bucky delved into editing the video he had recorded throughout the day. The rhythmic patter of raindrops against the window accompanied his creative process, adding tranquility to the cozy farmhouse atmosphere.

******

The next day, Bucky felt a sense of ease as the rain had ceased, and the sunrise painted the sky. He savored a homemade breakfast of bread topped with butter, mozzarella cheese, and cherry tomatoes—an extra layer of enjoyment derived from the satisfaction of preparing it himself.

His newfound companion, Archie (he gave the name last night), the adorable male puppy, happily wagged his tail as Bucky set down a bowl of milk, cooing at the joyful scene.

Interrupting this peaceful morning, a knock echoed through the farmhouse, prompting Bucky to open the door and discover who awaited on the other side.

‘Knock, knock!’

Bucky opened the door to find a teenager holding a box. The young lad greeted Bucky warmly and extended the box filled with honey.

“Hi, I'm Tobey. I live with my grandparents, and Grandma asked me to bring these to you,” he explained.

Bucky gratefully accepted the gift, acknowledging the teenager's kindness and his grandparents' thoughtfulness.

As the exchange unfolded, a distinctive sound caught their attention—Archie, the puppy, chimed in with an enthusiastic "woof," adding a touch of canine charm to the moment.

Having finished his milk, Archie toddled over to Bucky with his tiny legs.

Bucky bent down, patting Archie gently. "Hey, Archie."

Tobey observed Archie with curiosity. "He looks..."

Setting down the box, Bucky scooped up the puppy and presented him to Tobey. "His name is Archie. I'm grateful I found him on my terrace. His cuteness made me forget my exhausting day."

Tobey's eyes welled with emotion, and Bucky quickly realized that the box he had brought was likely the same one Archie had been placed in.

"I'm sorry," Tobey admitted, his voice tinged with regret. "My grandparents only allow me to have one dog."

Tobey lowered his gaze, speaking softly, "When Archie's mother gave birth, he was the weakest among his siblings. No one wanted to take him."

Bucky questioned, "Why me?"

Tobey scratched his head, explaining, "Because I saw your car. I thought, this person must be rich. I can't afford to have another dog."

As Bucky looked at the teenager, he reflected on his life, where money was never a problem. Toby, on the other hand, had to let go of something he cherished. Bucky reassured him, "It's okay. I consider Archie as part of my family now."

Tobey visibly relaxed. "Thank you, and I'm sorry."

Bucky shook his head. "It's alright."

He allowed Toby to play with Archie whenever he wanted, realizing that it was a win-win situation for both Archie and Toby.

Then Bucky asked, "Do you know how to drive a tractor?"

Toby replied confidently, "Of course. Everyone around my age can drive it."

Bucky was pleasantly surprised. He then offered Toby a job, promising to pay him for assistance. With that, Bucky found someone to help him with the farm work.

Bucky's progress in planting the seeds had become significantly faster with Toby's help. With his easygoing personality, Toby became a popular addition to the video vlogs Bucky regularly created for his followers. Viewers liked the dynamic between the two, and Toby's presence brought a fresh energy to the content.

One day, as Bucky and Toby took a break, Y/N arrived with sandwiches and iced tea. In addition to the refreshments, she handed Bucky a weathered journal book that had once belonged to the farm's former owner. Y/N explained that it was a farm journal, a crucial resource for anyone working the land.

"By the way," Y/N added casually, her eyes fixed on her phone, "you've got cow, lamb, and chicken coming in. They'll be here in two hours."

With that information dropped, she swiftly left again, leaving Bucky and Toby slightly stunned. Bucky, who had just finished planting all the crops, now found himself unprepared for the arrival of livestock.

Bucky grumbled to himself, "What a cold woman."

But Toby interjected, "Y/N is really kind, you know? She's helped my grandparents a few times. She even drove them to the hospital when they needed it. That's why I'm saving up money to buy a car."

Bucky felt a twinge in his heart hearing about Y/N's selflessness. He gave Toby a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You're a good grandson, looking out for your family like that. If there's anything I can do to help, let me know."

As they continued their conversation, Bucky realized there was more to Y/N than he initially perceived. Her kindness extended beyond the farm and, apparently, reached out to the broader community. Bucky found himself intrigued, and perhaps a bit curious, about the woman who seemed to be more than just a neighbor.

As Bucky flipped through the pages of the journal, he couldn't help but wonder about its history. The name "Jonathan L/N" caught his eye on the first page.

Toby, munching on his sandwich beside Bucky, also glanced at the page. "My grandfather mentioned that this land used to be owned by Y/N's great-great-grandfather."

The realization hit Bucky like a ton of bricks. The farm he was now cultivating once belonged to Y/N's family. Suddenly, her distant demeanor and occasional coldness toward him made sense. The land held sentimental value, and Bucky was now the outsider entrusted with its care. It was a responsibility he hadn't fully grasped until that moment.

Chapters: Chp 1, Chp 2, Chp 3 , Chp 4 , Chp 5 , Chp 6 , Chp 7

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@arunabraganza

@ordelixx

Author Note: Hey everyone! 🌟 Your input means the world to me.

If you've got any cool ideas or prompts, whether for this fluff series or any other series, feel free to share them with me!

Just drop them in my ASK/SEND REQUEST box.

Can't wait to hear your awesome suggestions! 🚀💬

[haruharuz]

Self Therapy; A Note

I've been pondering about this concept for quite a while now. Therapy itself is a wonderful tool to pick your broken pieces up and gently glue them back together- as if they were never broken at all.

However, not everyone has the resources to truly indulge in such tools. So I mulled over the idea of doing therapy almost at home. While it won't be as effective, as far as my personal experience goes, therapists typically give out homework to their patients.

I want to make it clear that because you're doing this kind of thing at home, it is vital to remain cautious. This is not medical advice, just something to consider.

If you do not have the resources to go to therapy, doing a self therapy session every single week could be beneficial, I think. I'm making a little guide on how exactly I personally am choosing to do this.

(●´∀｀●)

Step One: Choose An App

There are many many free apps specifically geared towards mental health. I've used a few, one of which being "WYSA" which I personally enjoyed. Pick one you think would suit you!

I enjoy these apps primarily because they typically have some free form of help. Like breathing exercises, meditation, etc! You can skip this step if you don't feel comfortable.

Step Two: Find Resources Online

You can easily find a lot of free resources online by looking up "therapy worksheet" "anxiety worksheet" "depression worksheet" etc.

Find a couple that you think would suit you to work on for the first week. The more you find, I recommend stockpiling them into a folder! This way, every new session you can either pre-plan said worksheets or grab a couple quickly.

I also highly recommend looking for journal prompts! Especially shadow work journal prompts that help you release certain emotions. You can do this with pen and a notebook or you can use a laptop/tablet for this! If you don't feel secure, password protect documents or hide your journal in a very safe place.

Step Three: Plan your first Session

Identify what you would like to address/work on during the session. Write it down.

Find the worksheets and exercises you want to do, plan them out. It's easier to go ahead and print/write/type them now and put them in a folder with a clear name. (e.g. ST.session1)

Find a day in the week when you know you will have at least one hour of free time. During this one hour of free time, you will be taking the time to do all of your things ! You can do this before bed, in the middle of the day. Just choose a time you think would be best.

I recommend setting a small goal every 1-2 sessions. Remember, goals should be reasonable, attainable, and measurable. Little steps. (For instance, if you struggle with severe social anxiety like I did, you can make a goal "order a coffee one time", but there's many ways to do this)

You can add more to this if you want! Please remember, you can add a face mask and reading a nice book, or other coping skills/self care to this if you think it might help. I recommend choosing things based off on how much time you have and how effective they are at helping you cope. You can also add them all separately to a "self care" day weekly. Up to you.

Example Setup

I'm sharing my personal set-up and plan with you! Some people need visuals <3

This is my folder set up:

as you can see, I have three folders inside a "self therapy" folder!

inside the "journaling" folder, I have three documents that align with the session outline (pictured next) that is in its respective folder. The first one has a journal prompt, the second two are completely blank and only named. They're just sitting there, waiting and ready!

This is my session outline. It includes what issues I'll be addressing and what exercises I'll be doing. Also, the next goal I'd like to work towards. This includes how I plan to do so. I also put a clear DAY and TIME for this session.

This is the worksheet I'll be doing:

And that's all! I'll be following this tomorrow and drinking some chocolate milk and relaxing :3 not too shabby, huh! Don't forget, if you are ever thinking about hurting yourself: call a hotline.

[kaisers-house-of-desires]

I am still indecisive, but Gojo, Nananemi (I feel like the more I type his name, the more I misspell it), or Sukuna x husband reader and Yuji as their adopted son? Just some teeth rotting fluff from your local ace.

One loving family coming right up~!

Title: 2 + 1

Characters: Gojo Satoru x m!reader, Yuji Itadori

Contains: fluff <3, adoption

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Full request below the cut

All characters are 18+ (except Itadori bc...adoption)

MINORS, FEM ALIGNED, AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI (This may not be smut, but I still want the above to be followed)

Reblogs > likes

"Satoru...let's have a child!"

Gojo choked on his coffee, practically coughing up a lung. "Wh-What?!"

"Let's...let's have a child!"

You had been pondering the idea for quite some time. You two had been together for awhile, and seeing so many happy couples with a child has given you a little bit of baby fever.

"I uh...a-are you sure? A kid is a...real big responsibility, y'know?"

"Yes! Yes I'm really sure! C'mon, Satoru!"

Gojo was silent, readjusting his sunglasses that he always insited on wearing as he sat back in the chair. "Well...First off, I'd be a terrible father--"

"Oh don't you start that--"

"I would! I mean, look at me! I can't even take care of myself!"

"Mhm...and that's why you double check whenever I order your food to make sure I get the right thing, or make sure I use the right detergent in washing your clothes."

"H-Hey! That doesn't mean anything!"

"It means that if you can be so vigilant on things you care about, you can be vigilant with a child!"

Gojo's cheeks puffed in a pout as he looked away from you, not liking how you made sense. "Hm...well...I at least want to think on it..."

Elated, you jumped from your seat on the couch and squeezed him into a hug. "Thank you, Satoru!!"

"H-Hey, easy! You're gonna spill my coffee!"

---

Now something like this didn't come quick or easy for that matter. You two had to have deep conversations about how this would work: how to organize a room for the child to have space, what foods to make, toys to get them, what rules there would be, etc. Not only that, but you two had to look deep into adoption agencies and see what their policies were and how to go about this.

It was mentally taxing, and at times, you two had to put it off for awhile, just to make sure it could be tackled with a clear head. After all, this was a massive decision, one that affected not only your lives, but the life of a child. You two began to wonder if it would even be possible until finally, after all your searching, an agency reached out to you, willing to take your case.

Now came the next step, home interviews, personal interviews, background checks, all the works, all the more strain that was going into it. Though Gojo assured you it would work out in the end, which meant a lot coming from him, as he was hesitant on this in the first place.

Still, you two persevered.

---

3 Years Later

"Satoru, I'm home!"

You sighed as you sat on the step inside the house, kicking your shoes off to allow your feet to rest after long hours at work. You were soon greated by small, thudding feet rapidly approaching you.

"Daddy! Daddy Daddy!"

A body barreled into you, and two arms tightly wrapped around yours, giving you a practical death squeeze. You couldn't help but chuckle at the small child, ruffling his hair.

"Heya, Yuji. How was your day today?"

Yuji straightened up, waving his arms up and down. "It was fun!! Papa and I played "Stack the Blocks"! We had to see how big we could make the towers! Papa lost at three blocks, and I beat him with five blocks!

"Oh really now?" You gave a playful grin as you stood up, picking up Yuji in the process. "What else did you and Papa do today?"

"Oh! I did Papa's hair! Wanna see?!"

From the other room you could hear Gojo object. "N-No no! Daddy doesn't need to see this, Yuji!"

"Come on, Papa! You look amazing!"

Before Gojo could object any further, you stepped into the living room. Your husband was sitting on the floor, his white hair pulled into very messy and tangled pigtails with an additional one on top of his head.

"...Yuji didn't want me taking them out so I couldn't," he huffed.

You couldn't hold back the giggle that slipped out, and you set Yuji down. "He looks wonderful, Yuji! You did a great job!"

"Heh. See, Papa? Daddy likes it! So you will too!"

Gojo grumbled something under his breath, but you could only chuckle as you rolled up your sleeves. "I'm gonna get started on dinner. Yuji? Can you make Papa extra cute for dinner tonight?"

"Mhm!"

Much to Gojo's dismay, you walked out of sight before he could bribe his way out of another hairstyling.

As you prepared dinner, a simple, happy thought crossed your mind:

I love this family.

[smolthealmighty]

Spinaraki Week 4 Day 2: Enough & Load

Can I Be Enough?

Determination can go a long way, but even then a body needs to rest. So when Shigaraki's body finally forces a shutdown in the middle of fighting the monster that is Gigantomachia, can Spinner pick up the slack?

“Does you have are being stupid?”

Even with Gigantomachia beginning to recover from the boulder dropped on his head, Spinner couldn’t help but pause at Shigaraki’s question. “…What?” he asked as he regained his bearings and disembarked said boulder before Machia could try swatting him.

Shigaraki attempted to repeat his earlier question, “Is you are stupid be?” By now Spinner had reach Shigaraki’s side and judging by how far back his eyes were rolled into his head Shigaraki was not doing great.

“Are you seriously trying to call me stupid when you can’t string a coherent sentence together?”, Spinner exclaimed. “The plan worked didn’t it,” Toga yelled as she joined the two, panting somewhat from the aerobics she had to do to keep Machia distracted, “Now we know that the big guy gets briefly stunned by surprise boulders to the head!”

“Almost pancake danger!” Shigaraki hollered.

“It’s Machia, everything’s dangerous!” Spinner shot back. “Look, save the lecture for after your next three-hour nap, you sleep deprived dingus!”

Shigaraki took far too long to process what Spinner said, but responded with a simple flash of the peace out sign… then immediately face-planted the forest floor.

Rushing over, Spinner flipped his leader over to listen for a pulse as Toga checked his breathing.

“Oh thank fuck he’s not dead!” Spinner sighed in temporary relief.

“I’m surprised he was able to stay awake this long,” Toga fretfully commented, “but at least Dabi owes me money now.”

“Screw money! He can’t fight like this, we need backup! Where’re the others?”

“They should be finishing up their break!”

“Call them! Call them now!”

“There’s no service here!”

“Are you kidding me?! Find a hotspot!”

“I think service is better closer to the towns!”

“Then go!”

“Hold on I can buy you some time!”

Toga grabbed Shigaraki’s face and quickly licked off as much blood as she could, transforming into him as she gave Spinner one last bit of advice, “You’ve got five minutes before I change back, scatter!” With that, she started booking it down the mountain with Machia in pursuit, only slightly thrown off by Himiko’s evasive vanishing technique.

Refusing to waste any more time, Spinner quickly picked up his unconscious leader and maneuvered him onto his back, then yanked his scarf from around his neck to tie it around their waists, securing Shigaraki in a makeshift piggyback ride. As he began to run, Spinner ripped two pieces of fabric from his mask and tied them to Shigaraki’s pinkies to prevent any accidental decaying, knowing that he couldn’t keep his leader from getting killed by Machia if he himself died in the process.

‘He’s lighter than I thought he’d be,’ Spinner observed as he leaped over fallen logs.

‘I could’ve sworn he built some muscle while fighting Rockjaw McGee the past two months,’ he ruminated as he felt the ground rumbling as Machia pivoted to close in the gap he worked so hard to build.

‘Am I doing enough to help him?’ he questioned as he dodged the stones being chucked at him from afar.

‘Am I not carrying my fair share of the load?’ he pondered as he scaled a cliff face and cleared the edge just before Machia ran straight into it.

‘If I could just get a stab in, or maybe yeet another rock at his eye, would that be enough?’ he deliberated as he launched himself from tree branch to tree branch, with Machia swatting at the parts of the forest canopy where Shigaraki’s scent was but never landing a hit.

‘Fuck if I could just make this fight a little bit easier for Shigaraki once he wakes up, I wouldn’t feel so damn useless!’ he berated himself, Machia’s roaring engulfing all the sounds of the wilderness yet still unable to drown out Spinner’s own self-loathing.

It felt like days had passed, but was likely only a few hours after Shigaraki collapsed that Gigantomachia reached his 48-hour limit and ended his pursuit to bury himself into the ground for his nap. Every muscle in Spinner’s body was sore, but he had just enough strength to climb back down the cedar tree he had perched in, careful to make sure Shigaraki didn’t slip out now that the chase was over. He startled and moved to shield his leader when he heard the nearby rustling of foliage getting trampled, then relaxed as Toga burst through the bushes.

“We’re here,” cried Toga, with Mr. Compress and Twice hot on her tail, “Are you okay? Did you get squished?”

“We survived,” Spinner panted, shuffling over to the rest of his group, “barely, but we did.”

“Thank goodness you’re both okay.” Twice cried with joy, “We ran all the way up for nothing?!”

“Well look on the bright side,” Mr. Compress stated as he took in the mound where Machia had settled in for his nap. “Now that we’re here early we have more time to plan our next 48-hour match.”

“Shouldn’t we wait until Shigaraki wakes back up?” Spinner questioned. “Too late… ‘m up,” slurred a voice from behind him, and Spinner lowered down to let his newly awoken leader off his back. “What’d I miss?”

“You ate shit on the forest floor so Spinner outmaneuvered Machia while carrying your dead weight like a sack of potatoes!” Toga gleefully explained.

“Shit,” Shigaraki panicked, “did you die?!”

“Does he look dead to you?” Toga deadpanned.

“I mean did my quirk injure you?” Shigaraki clarified, checking Spinner over for cracks anyway.

“No I’m fine,” Spinner reassured him, “Just exhausted and frustrated that I couldn’t do any more than run away and try not to get us killed. I didn’t even get a single hit on Machia except that boulder.”

“Who cares if you didn’t land a meaningful blow? I don’t!” Shigaraki exclaimed, taking a second to face Spinner completely before continuing. “In the face of a man the size of a literal mountain, you held him off and kept me alive with only your physical abilities and intuition. In my book that’s more than enough. You’re enough, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise because I will fight them.”

Spinner really hoped Toga stayed silent because he knew he was flushed pink and if she chose now to start getting mushy, he would surely combust and undo all the progress he made in prolonging his friend’s lifespan.

[demiboydemon]

I think Link could probably pull off a beard, but for the purposes of my current fic WIP, I am making him look terrible with it. The reason is because it’s just so funny to imagine Link with a terrible beard. Here’s a clip:

Link pondered what could be stressing her out, then wrote it down. Next, he ordered them from most likely to least likely. Please find said list below:

“1.    Rebuilding Hyrule in general.

2.    New people moving to Hyrule now that it’s a safer place to live, and all those people have new ideas for how they think rebuilding, law-making, and system-creating should be done, and a lot of them are just as rude about it as native Hyruleans are.

3.    The horses ate some weird moss when we weren’t looking and now they have diarrhea. And they’re having it everywhere. Everywhere! The yard smells like it, too. I don’t know if the smell and/or poop have gotten into Zelda’s secret well, but even if it hasn’t, this is a stressful situation.

4.    She’s trying to open this library that everyone can read at and some people don’t like the idea of a library that’s open for the public (???)

5.    Hudson keeps needing more and more wood for rebuilding, which is irritating because I have to go out and cut it, and that either wears on my swords or means I have to borrow the slate for bombs, and either way it probably can get irritating to having to lend me the slate every few days or have to listen to me complain about how fast my swords wear down.

6.    The children in Hateno Village have taken to calling me Lonk. Which is kinda mean. It bothers her more than it bothers me, though. Ha. Lonk.

7.    I bought new underwear, and maybe that change is hard for her? For some reason? They’re a different color than the last pair (black instead of blue), and now I have multiple pairs, if that makes a difference.”

He doodled a little flower in the corner of the paper as he tried to think of more. At the end, the list had one-hundred-and-twelve items, and sixteen corner flowers.

‘No wonder she’s sad,’ Link thought. ‘She’s got a lot of worries.’

[it-happened-one-fic]

Dead of the Night - Diluc (Part 3)

Author Notes: The third part of my Halloween/October fic series for Genshin Impact! Much of what applied to the first part applies to this part as well. I wrote and edited this Vampire! AU series exclusively to "Is this Love" by Whitesnake which did kind of influence how this series came together. As per usual, Reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Gender-Neutral Reader/ Vampire! AU/ pining/ romance/ some drama/ fluff with a touch of angst

Word Count: 1611

{Part 1}, {Part 2}, {Part 3: You're Here!}, {Part 4}

Also available on AO3 (link deleted due to glitches)

Trigger Warning: Reader does get attacked by a vampire, but all is well.

The rest of that night had passed largely in a blur after I got home. I’d almost immediately collapsed into my bed and fallen asleep as exhaustion from everything I’d just experienced kicked in.

The next day came with the ever-present patter of raindrops falling from the cloudy sky. The sun almost seemed like it did not exist as people rushed around the city trying to get all of their work done so that they could hide away indoors from both the rain and vampires that they feared were in their midst.

In my case, the day largely seemed to go by in a blur, with me pondering the events of last night. I’d been attacked by a vampire, gotten saved by Diluc, and found out that more had changed since my childhood than I ever could have realized. 

Not only was Diluc no longer rambunctious and constantly getting into trouble, but now he was also a vampire. An undead creature of the night that lived off of others’ blood. 

Perhaps stranger still was that he had somehow maintained that sort of gentleness that he’d always had. 

Gentleness that was now hidden behind a cold exterior, but that came through in moments like when he would walk me home just to ensure I was safe, or like how he made sure that everyone in Angel’s Share was always comfortable.

A rhythmic knock on my door roused me from my thoughts and brought a frown to my face as I glanced at the clock. It was getting late for visitors considering the time of year, but stranger things had happened. In fact, they’d even happened recently…..

As I opened the door to peer out onto the usually cheerful street that was now dreary with the prolonged rain, I was greeted by Kaeya.

The cavalry captain was smiling, but it was not one of his relaxed ones. Rather, it was one that he used when working that I seldom saw directed at me. One of those crafty ones that could hide any number of things.

“So, I hear you’ve learned of Diluc’s little secret?” My eyes widened at his words, but I pushed my door open a little wider and gestured for him to enter. 

Even if I didn’t necessarily care for the slippery tone of his voice, this wasn’t a conversation to be had outside where others could hear. Especially since I was fairly certain that Kaeya was not talking about some harmless secret but rather the one relating to Diluc’s immortality.

“You knew?” I turned to face him as I shut the door back, eyeing him closely and looking for any signs of his all-too-frequent acting. But I needed to be careful, just in case we weren’t discussing the same ‘secret’ that I thought we were.

Kaeya’s lone visible eye glistened as he crossed his arms, totally relaxed, as he replied in a perfectly innocent tone that had me frowning exasperatedly, “Surprised that I knew of Diluc’s exciting but lifeless nightlife?”

His tone was not one of judgment. In fact, there was even a smile on his face as I shook my head at him. Frowning at him as I crossed my arms, “You know good and well that asking him about that timeframe is like asking a wall how it's doing. He won’t talk about it, and I respect that. For all I know, it could have been traumatizing. Especially if he did get turned into a vampire then.”

I walked past him, letting him follow me down the hallway and into a sitting area. At least he had confirmed that he was talking about Diluc being a vampire. I shook my head at his words, though, “I don’t think I would’ve been surprised either way, really…. Do you know when it happened?”

He flopped down in a chair, perfectly relaxed as he crossed his legs, “Shouldn’t you be asking him that?”

 I met Kaeya’s gaze, cautiously gauging him for a reaction but he simply nodded. Smiling slightly at my words before answering, “Snezhnaya. It was while he was there. That’s all I know.”

Kaeya’s singular visible eye slid to the side so that he was staring at me, a crafty smile still on his face, “But like I said… You should ask him about that.”

No sooner had those words left his mouth in a characteristically paradoxical tone, than yet another knock sounded on my door. Causing me to narrow my eyes at Kaeya, who just continued to smile at me like he had a terribly amusing secret.

I frowned suspiciously at the calvary captain one more time before taking off down the hallway and peeking out my door.

The moon was already hanging in the sky, which wasn’t really surprising since it had been late when Kaeya had gotten here. The moon may have already been visible, and I just hadn’t noticed. 

What was surprising, though, was the sight of the red-haired man standing just outside my door, who looked at me expectantly as soon as I opened the door.

“Diluc?” I peered out at him in confusion until I recalled Kaeya’s words, and their full meaning hit me just as Diluc himself explained the situation with a tired-sounding voice.

“Kaeya called me here. He said we needed to explain the situation to you….” He sighed, but met my gaze as he frowned slightly, “He hasn’t said anything strange to you, has he?”

I slowly shook my head as I recalled what all Kaeya had said. He hadn’t said anything strange per se… But he had just confirmed my suspicions about when Diluc had been turned, and I wasn’t entirely sure about how telling Diluc that might go over.

So instead of outing my friend, I opted to instead open my door a little further and step to the side, “Come on in. He’s still here, so you can talk to him if you like?”

Diluc’s eyes went wide at my words, and for a brief moment, I didn’t know why. After all, it wasn’t like he hadn’t ever been inside my house before when I’d been young.

But then I recalled it, one of the whispered pieces of information I’d been given when I was young as a means to protect myself should I ever encounter a vampire: “Vampires can’t come into your home unless you invite them. So always be careful about who you invite in.”

As soon as I recalled those words, Diluc’s reaction made complete sense. He was no doubt surprised that I was so willing to invite him into my home. But in truth, I was still getting used to the idea of him being a vampire, and I’d completely forgotten those instructions up until now. 

And even if I had remembered them, I would have invited him to come in anyway. 

For better or worse, he was Diluc. And that meant I trusted him, even if he was something I’d been warned about ever since my youth.

He tilted his head slightly as he stepped through my door, keeping his eyes on me as he entered, “Thank you.” 

With only those words, he turned and walked down the hallway, almost like he didn’t know what else to say.

It was a thought that made me smile to myself. Diluc always had been a bit awkward when it came to anything that might even appear as a compliment or kind act if one squinted at it.

While I didn’t think hardly a thing of letting him come in, evidently enough, he did.

Kaeya awaited both of us with a smile, sitting forward almost eagerly as we both came in, “I still say you should get a cape and really just go for the whole look of being a vampire.” 

His jab at Diluc came almost immediately and had the redhead scowling as he came to a stop in the room, crossing his arms at Kaeya. 

But the redhead didn’t say anything to his brother. Instead, he looked towards me, “What all did he tell you?”

“I haven’t said a word,” Kaeya leaned innocently back in his chair, glancing my way with a subtle smile that promised that he would keep telling me about the events of Snezhnaya a secret. 

Diluc continued to ignore him in favor of staring at me as I slipped by him to take a seat. Almost as if he were petulantly giving his brother the silent treatment.

“He hasn’t been here much longer than you have, so we haven’t talked much… But what is this all about?” I sat as I glanced between the two brothers. Not entirely nervous, but not totally calm either.

When the two were young, seeing them together usually meant there was a scheme of some sort in the works, and the same could be said now. Even if they didn’t like to admit it, the two still worked together well.

“Why, to talk about Diluc’s special constitution. That’s all,” Kaeya leaned forward with a grin, propping his chin in his hand as he looked at me before his gaze slid over towards where Diluc was still standing.

“You may as well sit. I’m sure Y/n has many questions for us,” With those words, Kaeya gestured to the spot next to me on the loveseat, and, after narrowing his eyes slightly at his brother, Diluc joined me.

And all of a sudden, it was almost like nothing had ever changed, and the three of us were just good friends getting together to chat.

It's just that now we were going to be talking about Diluc being undead and what all that entailed.

 For some reason.

@vera-deville

[kei-ann8]

A Siren’s Call [Ryusui Nanami]

Chapter 1

Summary: A radio transmission somehow made its way to the Perseus. It was a one way communication and they can hear them but the other side couldn’t. Ryusui couldn’t help but feel like the voice sounded familiar.

  Ryusui would usually find himself staring out at the midnight sea in his sleepless nights. Everyone else was already asleep in their respective cabins, and only he and few others (Senku, Chrome, Ukyo, and Francois) are still awake. It wasn’t out of the ordinary, as he would often we drown in his work and not realize what time it is.

Despite this, he absolutely adored listening to the waves as they continued their journey all the way to North America. It does calm his nerves, especially in situation like this when they are constantly find new ways to navigate the ocean within the given timeframe that Senku decided, which is before late autumn.

After a little while, he checked on Ukyo and Senku at the control room, who are currently checking their GPS to see if they’re heading at the right direction. ‘’Did the storm threw us off our trajectory?’’ he asked, referring to the storm they came across a few days ago.

Thankfully, Chrome was able to find a solution to make it easier for him to see the direction on where exactly they’re heading.

‘’It’s not that far.’’ Senku answered. ‘’Besides, we have more important things to worry about.’’ He informed the sailor, looking over to where Ukyo was who nodded in response. ‘’Listen to this.’’

The scientist then proceeded to play the recording of the message the received earlier. It was unexpected yet Senku felt the need to record it even though he can easily remember conversations and summarize things up. But he didn’t.

‘’ – you’re listening right?’’

‘’Yeah? I see no point in this.’’ A man’s voice resonated through the other side of what seemed like a phone call, and Ryusui quickly deducted that they must be from America or from another country due to the language. ‘’Couldn’t you just wait till I get back? Who knows this call could be easily track down.’’

As the recording continues, Ryusui couldn’t help but feel like the woman’s voice sounded way too familiar to him. Has he heard it from somewhere before? ‘’When did you record this?’’

‘’Around 2 pm.’’ Senku replied nonchalantly, recalling that it would be better to have another opinion about this. The transmission doesn’t seemed to be intentional, and the call felt like something between two people simply discussing what’s going on with their day.

If it wasn’t for the following information, Senku certainly thought of that.

‘’Did you find anyone out there?’’

‘’No… I think there’s only few of us who woke up.’’

‘’That’s…. unsettling don’t you think?’’ The woman stopped speaking for a few seconds before continuing her words, ‘’Living in a world of statues, wondering if they’re even alive or just a piece of stone.’’

‘’Pretty philosophical if I say so myself.’’

‘’Not really. We expect that there will be at least ten people who will awaken by the end of the month.’’

‘’That’s the reason why you called?’’

‘’Yes. Anything wrong with that? I also want you to get rid of them if they decline our offer.’’

And right where things tend to get interesting, the call ends. Ryusui ponders if they should tell everyone but in exchange for that, chaos will surely ensue. By the looks of it, only few people seemed to know about this, probably the ones that Senku trusts. ‘’Are they waiting for people to wake up?’’

‘’They don’t have the revival fluid, unlike us.’’ Senku replied, reaching the conclusion that one of the reason why these people didn’t go and wake up everyone is that they are thinning out those who will live, ‘’The majority of them could be beyond stronger than Tsukasa himself. We don’t know how far along they are when it comes to weaponry but they are certainly catching up since they have radio communication.’’

‘’What’s our next move?’’

‘’Stay quiet. North America is our next step and we might find a few things useful there.’’

[rossellini-tyrell]

Nothing's Gonna Change My World

Ch. 6 - Set Me On A Silver Sun (for i know that i'm free) I

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

Word Count: 4,458

Warnings:

HUGE TRIGGER WARNING

This chapter contains references to the events of Chapter 1, multiple fairly graphic descriptions of periods (yes, those periods) and some non-sexual nudity + bathing and washing on the reader's part. THERE IS NO SMUT OR ANYTHING EVEN CLOSE. I put reader through a lot of things this chapter, but it's all okay, because Pav makes everything better - where there's hurt here, there's always comfort. However, if these are triggering topics for you, be warned! Pairing: Pavitr x F!Reader also found on AO3 and Wattpad.

"Any updates on that guy Spider-Man beat up? That guy at the night club?" a man asks. Pavitr hides out of sight, listening in on the discussion taking place in the prosecutor's office. "He accepted the plea deal. Turns out the building next door had a surveillance camera that caught the entire thing, an anonymous tip sent in the footage. There was no arguing out of that," the prosecutor explained. Pavitr had sent in that tape himself, having gone back to scout around the scene and lucked into that camera. A little bit of sweet-talking was all that was needed to ply the camera's owner into surreptitiously letting him take a peek at the feed from the night before. They were more than happy to let him have a copy of his own with just a few honeyed words. "Ah, well I guess he won't be wasting our time then, not to mention putting that poor girl through a trial," the man muses. The prosecutor shuffles her papers on her desk, clearly getting ready to leave for the day. "The sentencing hearing was set for a month out. I had Victim's Services call her yesterday to let her know. At least this should give her some relief," she replies. Pavitr slips into the night, not bothering with the rest of the conversation. It's already so late, you're probably asleep by now and he's got a hungry kitten at home to feed that's growing bigger by the day. He resolves to bring it up with you in the morning, over a nice breakfast while curled up on the couch. For now, he slips back inside his unit, strips the suit off and slides on a well-loved tee with the Kochi Tuskers logo on the front, fading away after many washes and ill-advised overuse of fabric softener. Sheru mewls a greeting from where he's perched on the foot of Pavitr's bed. "Hey there, buddy, didja miss me?" he chatters to the kitten, reaching over to give him a scritch behind the ears that is rewarded by an arch into the touch, just the way he likes it. His body condition is filling out nicely, no longer the emaciated little wisp he used to be.

Sheru purrs a little mrrow, contented.

"I missed you too, bitty fidget," he says, lifting the kitten up to kiss on his adorable pink nose. "You're so cute I could eat you up." The golden kitten squirms in Pavitr's hold. "Speaking of eating, lets get your dinner out, I've made you wait long enough for me," he says, and he carries Sheru into the kitchen to set out his well-overdue food.

---- He feels it before he hears it. drip, drip, drip it goes, from his ceiling into his dreams. The tendrils of hurts hurts hurts wind around his wrists where the web should be. The sky above him is a sickly purple, shattering above him into endless splinters when— luh-luh-LEAVE ME ALONE I D-D-DON'T WANT TO The tendrils pull and he follows, shooting up stock still in his bed. Pavitr's breathing comes in heavy, ponderous breaths, his sense is screaming at him and he's overcome by— pavitr spiderman help me please dont make me please help help help pav please dont let him Sheru urgently chirps at him from where he's tucked against his knee, as if to say go, help her.

His heart hurts hurts hurts because you're in pain and now he's in pain and he wants to do nothing more than help, but he remembers that this time, he can. He ignores the drip, drip, and grabs the bangles and says to hell with the rest of it, he lets your screaming take him up, up, up, surrenders to the pull you have on him to navigate him silently through your bedroom window, the one you've started to leave unlocked for him. Like an arc of lightning, he's there at your bedside, to where he finds you thrashing in your tangle of bedsheets. Pavitr's only seen you after, but never during like this, there's just so much hurt and pain and he hurts— pav i love you puh-puh-please dont leave

"Oh, ahava, I have you now, I'm here" he breathes emphatically, gathers you up into his tight hold while he sits on the edge of your bed. He vigorously rubs your back, plants his lips firmly to the crown of your head over and over to bring you gently, quickly into the waking world with him. Your flailing ceases, your cries fizzling out into unintelligible blubbering, eyes flickering open to a blurry scene.

"Hey there, dove. Hey. Hey, it's okay, you're safe, you were having a nightmare, okay? It's all over. You're okay, you're okay, you're safe in your bed with me," Pavitr soothes into your ear. He senses you shifting in his hold, as if you wanted to press yourself impossibly closer, to melt into him. Your crying gets louder, now fully awake and completely frightened. "Hey, come here, come here, hold me, it's okay, I'm right here, sweet girl," he tenderly instructs, making room for you to wrap your arms around him fully, let him bracket your hips between his knees. "It's okay, you're safe. C'mere, I have you, Pavu's here," he pours comfort from his lips, like warm milk with honey. You grab on and hold, scramble for purchase on his t-shirt as if the tendrils of hurts hurts hurts would pull you down into the next world if you didn't. High, breathy sobs are muffled by the fabric on his shoulder, the clean laundry soap smell and his own scent beneath it are grounding. Pavitr drags out slow, firm circles against your back, the fabric of your pajama top damp with sweat. "It's okay, it's okay, my precious girl, Pavu's gotcha. C'mere, my darling, it's okay, shhhh, it's alright, darling, I'm right here, right here," he cooes to you, trying to calm your heaving respiration with the pressure of his hand against your back. "Breathe, darling, breathe, it's okay, oh my sweet baby girl, shhhh..." More squishy kisses are dotted along your sweaty hairline. You let your head loll to one side, let it rest in the hollow of his throat. You start to settle in his embrace, your head feels so heavy. "That's my sonu, that's my darling girl, there's a love, shhhh..." he praises, the words tender and sweet in your ear. Pavitr trails his kisses to the skin of your forehead, becoming alarmed at the heat he feels against his lips. "You have a fever, sweet girl," he murmurs, the hand on your back coming up now to brush your hair back. "He-head h-hurts," you stammer. Pavitr clicks his tongue, presses a long kiss to your temple.

"Oh, my poor ahava, looks like you've picked up a cold," he tuts.  "No wonder that nightmare was so—" and that's when he sees it. He catches a glimpse of the sheets bunched around your legs. In the low light of the room, he makes out a dark splotch, extending to the insides of your thighs where your pajama bottoms cover them. His heart breaks, crumbles in his chest, because all of this could not have come at a worse time for you. "Pav, what are you—ohmygod, nonononono," you whine, embarrassment taking hold of you quickly. Everything burns, your breath is coming quick and stuttered, fresh tears pool along your waterline. You try, and fail to push yourself out of Pavitr's hold, but he doesn't allow it for a second. "Hey, hey, (You), hey. Hey," Pavitr croons in your ear, a stern edge to his voice. "Don't look at that, look at me," he orders, one hand moving to guide your face towards his. "B-but there's—you saw," you protest.

"Oh, dove, c'mere," he commands in the softest of voices. Your boyfriend tugs you even closer, melding you against his chest. He peppers kisses upon your knitted, sweaty brow. The affection drowns out the utter disgust you feel right now with yourself. "Don't cry, darling, everything's okay. I'm not going anywhere," he assures, gives your back a steady rub for good measure while resting his chin atop your head. "Can't, it h-hurts, and I'm so gross, I'm s-sorry—" your voice devolves into a high whine. "Hey, hey, hey, none of that, sweet girl, none of that," he gently, firmly ends your protests. He smudges a kiss against your chapped lips to make sure you get the message. "Let me fix it? Gonna take such good care of you, yeah?" "Y-yeah," you acquiesce, between snuffles into Pavitr's shirt. "Okay, sonu, you stay right here, I'm just gonna grab a couple things and I will make it all better, okay?" he says, waits for your nod of assent. He kisses your nose when you do, leaps from the bed to rummage around in what he knows is your underwear drawer. He nabs a few of your darker pairs, and a couple sports bras too, then spots a couple of spare laundry bags to stuff them in. He then gets to work stripping the bed, wrestles the ruined flat sheet into the other bag. Thankfully, no sign of damage to the mattress, a small comfort. Once he has everything, he returns to your shivering, whimpering form. "Okay, okay, I'm here now, Pav's here," he reassures, brushing his nose against yours. "Pav is going to take care of you now, you just relax and let me do all the work, yeah?" "Yeah," you breathe, all cried out. "There's my girl," he purrs, it's so fond and milky-sweet you're not sure you deserve it right now, nor the way he cups your flushed, fever-warm cheek. Pavitr wraps your legs up in the flat sheet tangled around you, the discolored areas covered up. He slings the laundry bags over one shoulder and lifts you into a bridal carry like it's nothing. He hops out onto the fire escape, casts a web out to slowly lower you both down to his unit. "Almost there, dove, just need you to put your arms around my neck and I'll get you sorted, I promise," he coos. You comply, using the little strength you have left to do so. Your boyfriend carefully rappels you both until you reach his fire escape, and he bundles you into his apartment, cheers a we're home, my darling into your ear. From there, he carries you straight to his bathroom. It's much like yours, expect his unit comes equipped with a bathtub, a feature yours lacks. Pavitr turns on as few lights as necessary and sets you down on the toilet lid. He efficiently roots through his medicine cabinet, finds the cold medicine and painkillers and sorts them, with a glass of water.

"For the pain, ahava," he explains. He passes caplets for you to take, you choke them down, and he helps you sip the water to chase it down, you sputter on it anyway as a cough wracks your body. "My brave girl," he praises, rewarding you with a back rub for your efforts. Your vision is hazy from the remnants of the nightmare, but you meet his eyes through the fog. Sleep is weighing heavy on you and you start to go adrift with it. "Tired..." you bubble out, your chest crispy, frothy on the inhale. "I bet you are, sweet girl, you can sleep so soon," he promises, stopping to wipe some sweat-matted hair from your forehead. "Gonna run you a nice bath, put you in some new clothes, and I'll tuck you into bed with me, doesn't that sound nice?" "S'nice..." you slur, swaying in your seat. "Oh no, not that!" Pavitr chides, a gentle laugh rumbling in his throat. He reaches out to right you, guiding you into sitting up by the shoulders. "You gotta stay with me a minute, okay? Just a little longer for me?" "Uh-huh," you agree. He grins and pecks you on your flushed cheek, his lips pleasantly cool on your skin. You hear him start the water and fiddle with something under the sink, out of your view. He tosses something into the tub, you think you could be imagining things, but you pick up on a slight floral aroma, it's hard to tell with a nose that feels stuffed with cotton wool. He sets out and opens a box on the counter, you recognize it as the box of pads he'd brought home, all that time ago.

"Okay, darling, I'm gonna take care of this—" he says, untangles the sheet from where it's wound about your legs. "—And I'll bring you some towels and clean clothes. Leave your clothes by the door when you get in the bath, I'll knock and swap them out once you've gotten in the tub, alright?" "O'tay," you murmur, eyelids fluttering. Pavitr's heart melts into a puddle of goo right there, he boops your nose with one pointed finger because oh you're precious like this, even under the circumstances. "So cute, sonu," he gushes. "You have fun in the bath, come find me when you're done," he directs. With a final pet of your head, he leaves you to it, taking the sheet with him. He assesses the damage once he gets to the washer, and honestly, he's seen worse. Years of vigilantism have taught him how to get blood and god knows what else out of his suit, whether it was his or theirs. No matter, he runs through his usual routine and sets up a cold water wash, then raids his linen closet for the mahogany-toned bath towels Miles had given him as a housewarming present when he first moved here. Pavitr stops by his bedroom last, piles on a cozy pair of track pants, some fuzzy socks, and one of his favorite old tee shirts, the one you seem to love rubbing your face on whenever he wears it. He then raps on the bathroom door, knocks one, two, three times. There's no reply. "(You)? Dove?" he calls out. Still radio silence. The thrum of the tub filling drones on behind it. He taps his knuckle on the door thrice more. "(You), I have clothes and towels for you, are you okay with me opening the door?" he presses his ear against the door, and there's nothing. Pavitr chokes down the lump of worry in his throat and steels himself to go in anyway. "(You), I'm gonna come in, okay?" he announces. He backs himself into the room in case you're not decent, and, to his surprise, finds you exactly where he'd left you. You're perched on the toilet seat, still in your clothes and slouching off to one side. The tub is just about filled, he deftly stops the tap before setting the linens down and examining your state. You're dazed, eyes unfocused, bleary, as if in a trance. "You weren't kidding when you said you were tired, huh," remarks Pavitr, cupping your chin in both hands. You don't reply beyond arching into the touch, sleepy nonsense spilling from your lips, and Pavitr can't resist cooing at it. He sighs heavily, realizing what he's going to have to do now—leaving you like this isn't an option, and he can't fairly put you in bed in your condition. He'd imagined this scene playing out so differently, if you'd ever wanted for that, and he hates the idea of taking that experience from you, for whom a positive "first" is few.

"Hey sweet girl, we gotta get you out of these so you can get cleaned up and sleep. Are you okay with me helping you if I promise to cover you up?" he asks, as if he were explaining to a small child.

"'M too tired. You do it," you mutter. Your eyelids look like they weigh ten tons when you peep at him through the small amount you can pry them open for.

"Alright then, lift your arms for me, darling," Pavitr instructs. You comply (barely) and he lifts your top from the hem. He pauses at your bust line to drape you from collarbone to knee in the biggest and fluffiest of the towels, then pulls you flush against him to pull the top most of the way up from the back, before getting the towel all the way around under the shoulders. Satisfied that you're covered, he frees your arms from the top, and takes a deep breath before kneeling, hands brushing the crests of your hips.

"Can I take these off?" Pavitr asks. He waits patiently for your nod of assent, and then works everything else over your hips and down your legs in one go, shuffles it all off to the side before you have the chance to worry about what became of them.

"All finished! I'm gonna help you get in the tub now," he says, and loops an arm under your shoulders to guide you onto your feet, the room swims as you do, the sinus congestion making itself known with the dull throb against your cheekbones. Your boyfriend holds you up as you step into the tub of deep indigo water, and then discards the towel to pull you close enough to lower you into the tub without either you falling, or him seeing something he shouldn't. For a second, Pavitr thinks he catches a flash of your exposed chest in the low light of the room, but finds himself unable to care.

"The w-water, its...it smells good," you croak, voice crackling in your vocal cords like a grocery store receipt crushes in your fist. You can feel the heat starting to weave gentle fingers through the knot laying heavy in your stomach, unwinding the tension and clearing up the fog of congestion in your head.

"That'd be the epsom salt cube. I was gonna surprise you with it next week, but I figured you could do with a little pampering right now," explains Pavitr. He perches himself on the rim of the tub, and pours into one hand a generous amount of the very expensive shampoo he uses, you know it immediately by the sharp apple-citrus notes that hang about him whenever you go for a kiss on his cheek.

"Hey, Pav, are you—oh, fuh-fuck," you bite out as your boyfriend starts to work the shampoo into your hair, confident fingers and thumbs massaging into your scalp. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, you sink deeper into the tub, neck immediately relaxing into his hold as he gently tugs at the roots of your hair.

"Shhhh, ahava, let me spoil you," he shushes you. Your eyes flutter open to catch his expression, the way the tip of his tongue peeks out between his lips as he focuses on applying just the right amount of pressure with each pass, his nails scratching your scalp just so. It's amazing to you how you can be caked in all manner of crud, and this gorgeous man could not be more adamant about literally carrying you home with him, doing domestic things like your laundry, buying you pads, washing your hair for you, and the look on his face is so in love it makes your poor tired heart want to melt away, like the salt in the bath.

"That's your good shampoo though," you protest. Pavitr snorts, it's hard to take you seriously now with how you're putty in his hands, utterly surrendered to the almost medicinal way he's kneading his fingertips into the skin of your scalp.

"I was hoping you'd notice, sonu," he replies, the gentle grin still crossing his face. The pads of his thumbs find purchase at the base of your skull, drawing firm circles to release the tension he finds there, you exhale a curse as he does so.

Your brief surge of alertness begins to wash away with the shampoo suds. The rhythm of Pavtir's fingers stroking through your hair is calming, sleep laps at you in waves and he easily supports your weight in his hands. Your aches and cramps bleed out of your pores, drawn out by the epsom salt in the bath, but also by the warmth of his hands. Your eyes fall shut once again, sinking down, down to the bottom of the tub, to the ocean, weighed down by the lead balloon of fatigue. You hear the rush of water when he lowers your head into the tub just enough to cover your hairline, the soft thump of your heart in your ribcage amplified by the liquid. It should be frightening, but it's not, you feel safe with the way he cradles your head in his hands, knowing he'd never let you drown. He's never let you drown.

Pavitr props your head on a rolled up towel at the end of the tub. You feel him take one of your hands, and then a soft, wet cloth tracing gentle circles down the length of your arm.

"Feels good?" you hear him ask. His voice sounds a million miles away through your blocked ears.

"Mmm..." you hum, relaxing into the warm embrace of the water. Pavitr laughs quietly and firmly kisses your palm, laces the cloth between your fingers to scrub there for good measure.

You feel him repeat the act on your opposite arm, stopping at the point of your shoulder. The touch is fond, as if to say hush, beloved, it turns your already weary limbs into something not unlike an overcooked noodle, tossed about by a gentle rolling boil. There's a shuffling noise, and then Pavitr's reaching into the tub for one ankle.

"Gonna take such good care of you," he purrs.

The cloth tickles a little as it passes the arch of your foot, the curve of your ankle. Long strokes pass along your calf to your knee, the pressure increasing to slough off any dirt or sweat that might be there. He gets all the way around it, and then halts at the inside of your knee.

"Can I go a little higher?" he asks.

You try your best to open your eyes, barely making him out in the low light of the room.

"You don't have to say yes. I just...wanted to help, if you were okay with it. And I really do mean only a little higher." he explains.

Since the first time Pavitr kissed you in your kitchen, he's not once broken your trust, or asked anything of you he didn't know you'd want to give. Wherever you went, he met you where you were.

"Yeah, you can," you sleepily agree.

You feel him rub your knee with his other hand, before slowly, somewhat firmly, stroking the cloth up the inside of your thigh, the cloth dips below the water line as he goes. The touch is soothing, not teasing, and he loops back down with plenty of room to spare before the juncture of your hip, true to his word. Your body is pliant, easily maneuvered like a fashion doll. Pavitr retraces his path one, two, three times, just enough to clean up the skin beneath his hand, no more. He balances your opposite leg on your knee to treat it the same, rotates your hip just enough to get at everything, keeping the rest of you obscured below the colored surface of the water.

When he's satisfied with his work, he flips the drain switch, and grabs the towel from the floor.

"Let me get this under your shoulders," he cues, two towel-covered hands winding around and under your underarms. "There's a love, stand up for me one last time," he praises.

You follow, pushing yourself up on shaky, boneless legs. Pavitr does most of the work anyway, the towel falls in front of you as you stand to keep you covered. He deftly pivots you back onto the toilet seat, then grabs a second towel to dry off your hair and neck. He gives you a brisk rub, then, in a flash of playfulness, covers up your face with the towel. He quickly reveals your face again, your drowsy expression wringing a giggle out of him, he can't resist kissing the tip of your cute nose.

"Silly…" you mutter, the biggest grin you can muster crosses your face at the idea of Spider-Man of all people playing peek-a-boo with you. His sense of humor in a difficult moment warms your heart.

"You love it," Pavitr jests, blows you a kiss.

He fishes a packet from the box on the sink counter, unwraps it and adheres the contents to the inside of the clean underwear. He knows you're going to give him flak for it later, he doesn't care, he's a fucking adult and you're about to fall asleep sitting up, he just wants to get you out of here as quickly as possible. He kneels at your feet, feeds your legs through the underwear, then the track pants, and guides you through shimmying them up past your hips.

"Bed…" you whine, slumping off to one side. Your face is still colored with the overtone of malaise.

"I know, sweet girl, I'm almost done, don't worry," reassures Pavitr, slipping the fuzzy socks onto your freshly dried feet. He reaches for the shirt, the last step.

"Arms up, pretty girl," he tells you, voice low and soft, like a thick, dreamy fog.

You comply, and he quickly pulls the shirt over your arms and torso, the towel drops off as the skin is covered. Before you can blink, you're bundled up off the ground, face pressed against a warm chest. You can't help but snuggle closer, the chills rippling through your fever-ridden body driving you to seek out the heat.

You're set down onto a cloud of linen, down, and cotton, rich and fluffy, and smells like him. You don't know why you've never been here before. The cloud sinks a little as he climbs up beside and around you, pulls up the comforter over the both of you.

"You did so well, darling girl," he rumbles. Arms pull you back into his chest, wind around you into a cozy cocoon with the tangle of his legs. Here is safe, warm, comfy, and the praise makes your head feel all muzzy.

"Sleep..." you breathe, burrowing closer into Pavitr, craving the closeness.

Pavitr giggles lowly, smears one, two, three kisses to your temple and forehead, still far too hot. The flat of his hand drags back and forth between your scapula, slow and hypnotic.

"Yes, ahava, you can sleep now. I'm gonna take such good care of you," he hums into your skin. "Rest now, my brave girl,"

The soft, steady thump of his heart against your ear is your lullaby, the bounds of his arms and chest your cradle. You take a deep breath, inhaling his scent, letting it fill your tired lungs and soothe your ravaged throat. On the exhale, soft tendrils of sleep sleep sleep wind about you, pull you under, and you willingly follow. There's no pain, no sickness, no heartache, just him.

[whisperprime]

Note: I was a ditz and forgot Dream's house (the one we saw in the comics) looks like it has more than one floor and his bedroom would (likely) be upstairs. Minor edits made to reflect this.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Hob wakes with the coming of the dawn, the suns first rays of light creeping across the floor towards the bed like a long missed lover. Although he does not know the exact time he laid down to sleep, he knows it had been light outside when Dream sent him off to his kingdoms soft embrace.

His body has the languid feel of someone who slept half a day away, despite the early hour. He wonders if he had needed the sleep or if his ‘friend’ had thought he needed the sleep. Thinks he’ll let it slid for the sake of feeling safe for the first time in over a hundred years, because he knows whatever happens after Dream has what he wants from him, Hob is safe for the moment.

Hob watches the dawn settle into morning, only partially seeing it. His mind is still and blank, the full weight of his new future circling his peace like a wolf looking for a way in. He does not fear it, for how could he fear this time period, when he already knows what it has in store for him? So much goes on in the world at any given time, he doubts he kind just as much pleasure out of it this time as he did the last time.

No, what lurks just at the edges of his mind, waiting for him to pay attention to it, is whatever the future holds for his ties - should they continue to hold - with the being whose house he currently resides in.

Hob remains in his cocoon of blankets until his bladder remembers it’s a thing that exists. He ponders what it say about his life that the simple need to take a piss has become something novel. It will grow old and routine again all too soon, but for the moment, even bodily functions are a welcome sign that he is free of his bargain.

After relieving himself, Hob pauses in front of the sink in the bathroom. Sitting on the edge by the faucet is an unopened toothbrush and tub of toothpaste, sitting innocuously in a simple black cup. A black comb sits next to the cup.

Those look too new to have been there for some unknown time. Either Dream never uses this house or he set them out for his guest.

Hob is going to assume, all things considered, that it's the later. He doubts an anthropomorphic embodiment of dreams has to worry about brushing his teeth.

He attacks the packaging of the toothbrush with far more enthusiasm than he did his first shower in over a century. This is another habit he has missed and it feels just as nice to have his mouth clean. His hair gets a proper combing next, although it’s not going to be properly tamed until after his next shower.

Feeling a little more like he’s ready to face the world (or at least his host), Hob leaves the bathroom to make his way back downstairs to the kitchen, navigating the stairs a little better on the way down then on the way up. Upon entering the room, however, Hob has to pause in the doorway, his heart doing something funny in his chest as he beholds the scene in front of him.

Dream is working in the kitchen again. Hob watches him as he finishes placing slices of bananas in a bowl full of oatmeal. The look on his face resembles the level of scrutiny one might give a new dish or recipe. A glass of water sits to the side of him, already prepared and ready.

Hob commits the image to memory, wishing he had the artistic talent so that he might commit it to canvas. He tries not to think too deeply on the meaning of any of this. Knows Dream is very well aware of custom and etiquette, even if he’s a little off on how to interact with humans. For all Hob knows this is just simple hospitality to him.

Still. Hob does not think he is soon to forget the sight of Dream of the Endless, King of Dreams and Nightmare making little ol’ him breakfast.

He settles himself in the same chair as last time, content to watch this for as long as he's allowed. He has seen his friend play host in his kingdom. Caught a small glimpse of what his hospitality looks like when he has a full staff to bring them food and drink of the highest caliber. Eating and drinking with the Lord of the Dreaming was a treat one would not soon forget.

But to see him like this? Singular and one on one? It is quite a different sight.

Hob is also aware his face is doing absolutely nothing to hold back how he feels. He tries to wrangle it back into something that merely screams 'happy' and 'fond' instead of 'hopelessly in love' but he's not sure how successful he is.

"Good morning. Did you sleep well?"

Hob doesn't snort, but it's a near thing. As if he doesn't know. "The bed was one of the most comfy I've ever slept in. I slept like a baby."

Dream picked up the bowl and the glass, bringing it over to Hob's spot. He laid them both out, giving Hob a wiff of the oatmeal, which smells far too good for simple oatmeal with bananas. A spoon soon follows. "Light meals are suggested after a period of fasting-" Dream makes a face, a subtle pursing of the lips, as if the word is a lemon and it's personally offended him, "Before moving back to a normal diet."

Hob feels that treacherous swelling in his chest again and squashes it. "Thank you," he says. Pours every scrap of gratitude into it because he is very aware of how outside the norm this is for all that Hob isn't sure how much of it isn't duty or an inconvenience. "Thank you for all of this. Anything I can do to repay you, should it be within my power, I would."

Dreams eyes almost seem to glow, his attention heavy. "Be careful with such promises. They hold weight and being in my debt is not cheap."

Hob shrugs, but not carelessly. He looks this ancient creature dead in the eye, picks up the spoon, and with it eats of the food that was offered to him. When he's swallowed, he says back, "Yes, and I still make it."

Dream stares at him, gaze almost a physical thing. Hob let's him sit with that as he continues to eat, savoring the food the way he hasn't savored food since the early 1700s when his fortunes finally started to turn around. The Dream Lord visibly reigns whatever thoughts he'd been thinking in, and Hobs not sure if they were the good or bad kind.

"I must tend to some things during the morning and early afternoon," he explains, his tone just shy of casual. "I will return late afternoon or early evening. There is food for lunch and dinner, should I not return in time."

Hob pauses, squinting at him. "Although I do appreciate the effort, I can take care of myself, you know."

Dream raises an elegant brow at him, as if Hob is a recalculant child who has gotten themselves into a spot of trouble that should be impossible given the circumstances.

Hob does not say, 'you have no idea.' He also does not prove himself an oversized child by sticking his tongue out at a being older than the universe, but it's a near thing.

Dream's expression smooths back to something professional. "There are clothes in the waredrobe that should fit you." He gestures down the hall. "There is a door to the library down the hall. It can be accessed from up or down stairs. It is a mere portion of my collection, but there should be something in there of interest."

Hob, who has seen the library in the Dreaming, has no doubt even a miniature version could keep him entertained. He looks forward to seeing what Dream might have deemed to add to this collection in the Waking World. He raised his glass, water that it was, in recognition. "I look forward to the privilege. Safe travels and safe returns."

Dreams nods and offers his own parting words. Once he has ensured Hob has finished his breakfast and Hob will take care of the dishes ("I can handle cleaning a few dishes!"), the Dream Lord took his leave. Hob is bemused that Dream waited until he had left out the door before vanishing off to the Dreaming.

Always with the mysterious thing, the prat.

Hob rushes through cleaning the dishes. He wants to get through a quick shower and into that library.

Part 7

[adenei]

Mean

Well, the wheel gave me a Speak Now song and at least it wasn't Never Grow Up?

Please enjoy some legitimate crack!fic that has everything and nothing to do with Romione, but Harry being the absolute GOAT of a best friend.

Song Submission #2 for @cruelsummer-ficfest

Song: Mean (Speak Now)

Ship: Romione

Harry stares at the obscene stack of paperwork teetering precariously on one corner of his desk. He’s long since given up when it comes to clearing the pile. He always figured if he could get through a handful a day that would be enough to suffice. After all, he joined the Aurors to be in the field, not in a stuffy Ministry office stuck behind an old mahogany desk.

But he and Ron both promised Hermione that for the next two weeks, they’d work from their desks to avoid any injuries. They couldn’t risk taking a case or going on a mission for fear that it might put them in a bed at St. Mungo’s, or worse, make either of them miss the wedding all together. While he doesn’t understand why he also has to follow these rules, he supposes he gets it. You can’t have a wedding without the groom, and perhaps Hermione thought she’d have a better chance at keeping Ron safe if Harry followed along. He wonders how much gold she slid Robards to approve the arrangement.

Though much to Harry’s chagrin, it seems to be working. Maybe there’s hope to get through the stack of paperwork by the time Ron and Hermione tie the knot after all. He grabs a report from the top of the pile and begins working, only to be interrupted five minutes later by the clacking of a wooden cane growing louder with each click.

What pompous piece of shit is strutting around the office now? Don’t they know we can’t be bribed anymore?

He tries to ignore the noise until there’s a pronounced throat clearing across from where he sits. Who could possibly be trying to make this day worse?

Draco Malfoy.

“Sorry, I think you’re lost. This floor houses the Aurors and DMLE. We don’t take bribes from old money here anymore. I’m sure you could try the Department for Magical Transportation if you’re that desperate.”

“Very funny, Potter. I’m not here for any Ministry matters. I’m here to ask for a…personal favor.”

Harry peers up at Draco. He’s up to something; he always is. “If anyone’s going to ask for a favor, shouldn’t it be me? Considering I’ve saved your arse how many times now?”

“Twice,” he says through gritted teeth. “And that’s neither here nor there.”

“So, what is it then?” Harry doesn’t have time to play any games. The quicker Draco asks whatever ridiculous favor he’s searching for, the sooner Harry can tell him no and send him on his way.

“I need an invitation to Weasley and Granger’s wedding.”

Laughter bursts from every fiber of Harry’s being. “Yeah, alright, Malfoy. That was a good one.”

“I’m serious.” Draco snarls his lips. His knuckles turn white as they grip the ornate handle of the cane a little too tight.

But seriously, what twenty-two year old walks around with a fucking cane?

Harry’s ready to say no, but the request is too good to not gain more information to take back to Ron and Hermione later. Maybe he’ll even pull the memory out so they can watch it in the Pensieve.

“Why?”

Malfoy glares at Harry, clearly contemplating his choice of words. “Because according to the Prophet,” he spits, “it’s going to be the event of the year.”

There’s so much pure hatred and disdain in the blonde’s voice, but Harry can’t help but notice a hint of…envy, is it? 

“So?”

“So,” his nostrils flare, and Harry delights in how excruciating this must be for Malfoy, “If it is, then I need to be there.”

“Huh,” Harry ponders. “I didn’t realize ‘entitlement’ and ‘relevance’ were considerations when Ron and Hermione were creating the guest list.” He leans back in his chair and clasps his hands together. “I’m sure they’ll be horrified when they realize they’ve left such a prominent name in the magical world off the list and will want to correct it straight away.” 

Draco is seething. “I’m sure there will be enough people invited where they won’t even know I’m there.”

“Right. And you thought asking me, their best friend, to help get you in would be your best option? After you called Hermione a Mudblood more times than I can count and hexed her teeth during fourth year? And you tried to fuck with Ron during fifth year with the Weasley is our King chant during the Quidditch season because Slytherin didn’t have a shot of winning fairly? Oh, and let’s not forget that you’d be attending a wedding where two-thirds of the guest list will be from the family you insulted over and over because they were poor.

“Sure, Malfoy, let me get right on sneaking an invitation your way. I’m sure Ron and Hermione would love to have you there.”

Draco purses his lips, the thin fine line barely moving as he hisses, “ A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed. It’s not like I wanted to be surrounded by filth anyway.”

He turns on the heel of his overly-polished toe and struts off without another word. Unable to contain his laughter anymore, Harry lets it out. 

“And don’t worry,” Harry calls after him. “I’ll make sure the security detail knows not to let any ferrets in.”

Once Draco’s gone, Harry can’t help but shake his head, the lingering laugh lines still present on his face as he whispers, “Merlin, I can’t wait to tell Ron and Hermione about this at lunch today.”

All you are is mean

And a liar, and pathetic

And alone in life, and mean

And mean, and mean, and mean

[twilightknight17]

Today (it’s not tomorrow til I go to sleep) on P3R, we spend a lot of time in Tartarus, I’ve got some questions about why everyone I know is such a mess, yet another couple is competing to be worse parents than Nyarlathotep, and six days of exams.

So with the Priestess down, we can get past that barrier in Tartarus, so up we go to the next set of floors. I was expecting more green hallways, but instead I got, uh…

Mementos was weird from the beginning, but like… it saved the REALLY weird stuff for a lot further down. This is area 2, and we’re stuck with Bigface and eldritch eyes.

When I reached another gatekeeper shadow, I got it! But then there was another one immediately after. :(

Disappointing Igor is the worst. But at least I figured out what the stupid dice’s weakness was, so I got it the second time. Everyone keeps talking about how Akihiko is going to be better soon and he’ll be able to help, so I guess we’ll head home for now just in case there’s more gatekeepers immediately ahead.

The takoyaki thief at the shrine is named Maiko, and she’s adorable. I really like her. ^_^

………….oh no.

Her parents are getting a divorce, and she is NOT doing well. And apparently they spend more time yelling at each other than talking to their kid and making sure she’s okay.

Minato doesn’t have the energy for righteous fury, but I do.

Mitsuru wants me to look at the command equipment instead of going on a rage-fueled rampage, so off we go. I dunno why she thinks we can fix it. Just let Ikutsuki do it.

…...that seems concerning.

It’s a video of Ikutsuki working on a report and talking to himself. He’s pondering the full moon shadow, and whether it’s a sign that “it’s starting”.

Apparently he also tells himself puns. This man...

You can’t actually tell Mitsuru about what you saw??? Like, did I fix it? Was this a plan to get me to see this video? Mitsuru, what even.

Ugh, fine, I’m gonna go study.

I’m finally a Regular Guy instead of a pathetic wet blanket.

In the next few days of school, Junpei texted and asked to hang out in the afternoon. I guess this is the new side-story things they added? It’s a little weird, though, because it shows up on the map like this:

It’s not a social link, though. We went to the arcade and hung out and talked, but there were no points or Velvet voiceovers or anything. Just chilling and playing some… uh… “very interesting games”. XDDD

It did up Junpei’s stats, so that’s good. But it’s not a social link. I am still stuck with Kenji as my Magician. X’’’D He’s not around, though, because pretty much everyone is knuckled down to study for exams. So I ended up spending a lot of time at the bookstore. Even though Bunkichi and Mitsuko make me sad.

My space is being invaded, though. By the French.

But just call him "Bebe".

I'd rather not.

I can’t actually start his link right now because he hangs out in the home ec room, and all the clubs are shut down for impending exams.

...is this gonna be on the exam?

I bought some food that needs to be refrigerated, and the mini fridge in my room spontaneously broke. However, the downstairs fridge is full. Which, like… guys. Who is using all these ingredients? It keeps telling me I can’t use the kitchen, so how have y’all filled the whole fridge?

Instead of going to Tartarus, we’re having study sessions to get ready for exams. It’s going, uh… well? I think?

And I’m spending more time with Maiko, because all my links at school are unavailable.

MINATO. WHY IS THAT EVEN AN OPTION.

…..man, I am so worried about this kid.

I made it through midterms and answered all the questions correctly because no one asked me about algebra! So hopefully that’s enough to get me a good grade and a reward from Mitsuru. Speaking of Mitsuru, I ran into her biggest fan in the hallway after my last exam.

Wouldn’t we all be happy?

I also ran into my fellow student council member, who can only say a little bit to me before freaking out because she can’t talk to guys. Minato’s dialogue options are golden.

Off to see Maiko again, only to get interrogated by this dude.

First of all, Minato’s in high school, so… neither? Second of all, who are you? You didn’t even introduce yourself. Maiko just called you “Stripey”. And I might know who you are, but Mina doesn’t. From his perspective, you’re just some other guy Maiko knows.

I’M SO WORRIED ABOUT THIS KID

Anyway, now that exams are done, Akihiko has been cleared to fight again, and apparently found another persona-user while he was in the hospital. But apparently, she also wouldn’t be capable of fighting.

This is why you don’t jump the gun, Akihiko.

So I guess next time, we’ll head back into Tartarus to see what Akihiko can do.

Random side note: I keep meaning to mention that they’re still wearing the SEES armbands. I’m wondering now what prompts the spiffy uniform upgrades to the shoulder-guards and stuff we saw in the trailers.

Second random side note: If hanging out with your non-social-link friends for side stories buffs their persona stats, I wonder what hanging out with Ryoji will do? Buff Than? Debuff the final boss? XDDD

[stuffgoeswrong]

Maybe it's late but do chuuaku next if you feel like it!!! Have a sweet day 💕

Of course! It's never too late!

Chuuaku

Ship it

What made you ship it?

Honestly? This person's art--I mean look at it. I love their style, it's gorgeous. After that, I just started seeing more official art of them and hearing about the hype for Chuuaku on Twitter (or at least I thought it was fairly popular over there). Then I began to rethink the characters and what they could have in common, which turns out is kind of a lot. To quote my anime journal, they've both been hurt by Dazai and have been lone wolves for most of their lives. They've been through so much and I want them to bond over being used by people they once trusted (Aku--Dazai, Chuuya--Shirase, Verlaine, anyone else from Stormbringer? I haven't actually read it yet). They each ponder their self-worth but admire those around them (Chuuya admires Mori's leadership but worries about his own humanity, Akutagawa admires Atsushi for being able to stand up to him but doesn't see his own strength as good enough, and obvs Dazai). Listen, so we all know Chuuya is a loyal character, it's one of his core traits. But Akutagawa has that same potential too! He's kept his promise to Atsushi not to kill anyone for six months. I believe Beast even as an alternate universe implies traits that are there in every version of a character, so Akutagawa's protection over Gin can also be seen as loyalty. Any two people being fiercely devoted to each other or having that possibility is a huge plus for me. Yeah, they haven't had any actual scenes together in the main story (ig Dead Apple kinda counts, I always forget that exists) which made me a little iffy at first, but they've had a little screentime together in Wan! which is good enough for me and I ended up loving them!

2. What are your favorite things about the ship?

Chuuaku's vibes are like off the charts emo autumn season and I love it. Their color schemes are so Halloween-y and I always picture them within an aesthetic collage of hot chocolate, falling leaves, and overcast skies. I also like how easy it usually is to come up with headcanons for them, like Akutagawa would be so bad at compliments (thinking about him like Kageyama saying knife instead of nice) and Chuuya would appreciate him trying yet he's so much smoother at it, they both shop at Hot Topic, love similar music, effective on missions together, find it easy to bully people together, and go on midnight motorcycle rides to help Akutagawa's lungs. Oh, I love that Chuuya is kind of the mentor Aku never had and so it's for sure just one of the most positive relationships Aku could have. Also, it seems to me they're both workaholics so it would be fun to see them realize this about each other and force the other to work out making time for fun things, not necessarily with each other. In my opinion, Chuuya needs someone calmer than Dazai and Akutagawa needs someone who's patient but still outgoing. Of course, I believe that with any Akutagawa ship, he needs to be less obsessed with Dazai to be more in tune with his partner. I think Chuuya could help him move past this because of his specific position in Akutagawa's life as a coworker and someone who knows Dazai pretty personally. Overall I like that this ship, like my other favorites, is pretty balanced power-wise, has a great aesthetic, is on opposite ends of the personality spectrum, and has room for "missing or behind the scenes" fanfictions. Also the possibilities for AUs (from mayoi alone we get detectives and bandmates)!

3. Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

Not sure since there aren't several fans I've talked to about Chuuaku, but I'm gonna use this opportunity to say that these are the top songs that remind me of them: I Will Follow You into the Dark by Death Cab for Cutie, Girlfriend by Avril Lavigne, Better Than Me by The Brobecks, Easily by Bruno Major. Perhaps my unpopular opinion would be that they're actually just very domestic.

Thanks for the ask!