#Cardiac Enthusiasm

[tachyheart]

Heart Tour and check every valve and spot with ECG and BP monitor using two cuffs manual and automatic one.

Heart is beating a little bit fast with many skips ,everything is visible and can be listened. I hope u enjoy If some one wanna play with my heart and do some roleplay with me as a Patient. Contact with me.

[deusfoundry]

part 2 here!

girl dad!zayne who simply smiles when his daughter knocks on the door of his office one night. she lets herself in, a deep crease present on her forehead, fingers wrung together. he can tell the moment she entered that something's bothering her, so he shuts his laptop off in favor of giving his daughter his undivided attention.

"what's wrong?" he asks with an encouraging smile on his lips.

girl dad!zayne who puts on a nice front when she tells him that a boy is coming over tomorrow night for dinner. he almost says "no.", mouth opening to reject the very prospect of boys. "you're too young to be dating." he very nearly says, if not for the quiet "please." that stops him in his tracks.

suddenly, he's taken back to a whole decade ago.

suddenly, his little girl has just turned seven years old.

suddenly, she's pleading with the widest doe eyes he's ever seen for him to get her the slice of carrot cake displayed on the counter of a bakery.

damn it, he thinks. those eyes are the bane of his existence. not once has he been able to resist them. curse you and your genes for passing those godforsaken eyes to your little girl.

so he smiles. he pulls his daughter into a warm, comforting hug.

"of course." he says, trying not to sound like he's forcing the words through gritted teeth. "i'm not mad at all, sweetheart."

"really?"

zayne merely hums, and when she squeals in delight, jumping up to plant a small kiss to his cheek between an onslaught of thank you's and i love you's, he almost forgets that he just agreed to having some boy over in his house.

girl dad!zayne who huffs when you press a kiss against his lips to stop him in the middle of his rant. he's spent the last half hour citing complaints about his daughter. how boys her age are stupid and none of them could even dream of treating her the way she deserves to be treated.

"when did she even get old enough to start talking to boys?" he manages to insert between exasperated claims every five minutes.

"it's part of being a teenage girl, love." you pull yourself away from his lips, lazily moving around to straddle his thighs. "let her be."

"and you're not the least bit concerned?" his breath hitches against his throat when you start to slowly trail kisses around his neck. he doesn't hear your response to his question, mind clouded with the feeling of your lips drawing stars on his skin.

his girls are truly going to be the death of him.

girl dad!zayne who purposely lingers near the front door so he can beat his daughter to opening it. he hears the doorbell ring and the subsequent thundering of her footsteps from upstairs, but he's already opened the door before she can even rush down the stairs.

girl dad!zayne who relishes in watching the way this boy's face falls. he's secretly glad that his career is as remarkable as it has been at this very moment, because he sees exactly when it dawns on the boy who exactly is standing before him.

the father of the girl he likes is the doctor zayne. world-renowned cardiac surgeon doctor zayne.

the boy splutters. he unfolds into a stuttering mess right in front of zayne and he has to resist the urge to slam the door on his face.

if doing so didn't end in him being in the receiving end of your sermons, he never would've opened the door in the first place.

girl dad!zayne who’s overtaken by surprise for a quick second when the boy finally collects himself.

“thank you for letting me join you tonight, sir. it's really an honor.” he says his name. zayne's impassive expression doesn't deter the boy as he holds his hand out.

zayne reluctantly takes it. he's about to settle on just giving him a subtle shake when the boy himself takes initiative, shaking zayne's hand with just the right amount of enthusiasm.

"this is for you and your wife." he hands over the basket that's been sitting beside his feet. zayne eyes it with his arms crossed over chest.

the basket is decorated with a ribbon tied into a neat bow. it comes in his daughter's favorite color, an oddly specific shade of pastel blue that she's been obsessed with since she was five. the inside is parted down the middle, one side filled with fruits and food that you like. the other half is, very obviously, for him.

it's packed to the brim with a whole assortment of sweets. a variety of cake slices from a bakery at the other side of the town he's been meaning to visit. packs of candies he likes. his favorite pastries from the bakery near the hospital.

zayne is ... delighted. but he refuses to let the boy know he's slowly winning him over so he quietly takes the basket in his hands and lets him in.

"dinner will be ready shortly." he says before disappearing into the kitchen.

zayne catches his daughter with a small bouquet of her favorite flowers in her hand.

girl dad!zayne who intends to stay quiet over dinner, but is forced to make small talk when you kick him under the table.

"be nice." you remain silent as you smile at the young boy sitting beside your daughter, but he knows that's what you mean with the threatening glare you send him.

"so," zayne purposely says his name wrong as he clears his throat. "what do you do for fun?"

he sees you shake your head from the corner of his eye.

girl dad!zayne who still isn't entirely convinced that this boy deserves to be with his daughter, the literal light of his life, his little girl, but relents a little as the hours go by.

zayne remembers telling his daughter time and time again to never settle. that he himself would pluck the night skies free of stars if you so much as imply that it's what you want. that she should look for the love you share with him, unconditional and boundless.

and as zayne watches with a keen eye how he treats her, he thinks he's done a good job at instilling those beliefs.

he's attentive to her needs, handing the bowls of food that's way out of her reach. he places a small portion of vegetables on her plate and successfully coaxes her into eating them, something even zayne struggles with. he's quick to cover the edge of the table with his hand when she leans down to pick up the fallen spoon from beneath the table.

girl dad!zayne who ends the night standing behind his daughter on their porch as she waves him goodbye.

"drive home safely." zayne says, uttering his name correctly as a sign of respect.

he doesn't miss the way his daughter's face lights up. and if accepting someone new in their small family lets him see that smile more, zayne thinks it's all worth it.

this has been in my drafts since the i made that girl dad!zayne post a few weeks backdhejhd

divider from @cafekitsune

[anantaru]

— does he like it when you're being clingy?

including wriothesley, neuvillette, kaveh, scaramouche x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff & crack, lots of physical touch, established relationship, kissies, love sick genshin men

— wriothesley

as much as wriothesley shows off his strong demeanor for the outside world to see, he cannot lie to himself when it comes to you— because the duke likes seeing you be clingy with him and search for his vehemence.

to him, there was nothing better than having your arms all padded up around him while you kiss his little worries away— so for all he cares, let the outside world call him bewitched if they must, or caught in an angelic spell for that matter. to wriothesley it didn't sound bad nor did he really give a damn about what a so called nobody would say about his life, alongside the fact that he found it quite amusing whenever they did talk about him.

the duke was exceptionally gentle with you, but sometimes he just wants to be able to see you love him in a whole differing modus other than you simply uttering out the three delicate words— in fact, wriothesley too, cares about you so much that he's trying to keep you around all the time, having you enveloped in his arms like he always daydreams of whenever you were apart from each other— hoping that you'd visit him so he could listen to whatever story you might tell him about.

now, was this a new feeling? well, yes. simply put, it was one he had never experienced before. the man had always been faithful, protective and nurturing in his life, so when love solidified the senses of his body, wriothesley was able to finally share his love with somebody.

what you did not know was that wriothesley was slightly frightened in the early stages of your relationship, to someone like the duke it wasn't particularly a breezy walk in the park to open up to another individual and realize that for the first time in his life, he was able to trust someone undoubtedly without fearing a possible mistreat.

now, he admits his love to you when he felt ready to do so, and when he does spell out the three words that bonded a relationship anew, your lips curl deeper into a passionate smile as he kisses the sides of your mouth.

your company alone was an important determination factor of his mood, and although he doesn't want to trouble you with his work, nor was he really allowed to share important and confidential details, wriothesley was certain that you would always be there to listen to him no matter what crossed his mind.

interesting how his heart has not once melted in his entire life prior to finding his soulmate. that's why in his eyes, there is no truer language than the language of love.

a cruel world that has been so cold go him surely wouldn't give him such wonderful gift?

alas, it did— wriothesley could feel it in his bones whenever you held him close to your chest late at night, his ear shell quietly pressed right above your heart. the silent vibrations place a pure tepidness of passion on his soul when he finds himself gradually softening to it, on all occasions smiling as he falls asleep in your arms.

— neuvillette

in the early stages of your relationship, when you had first placed your lips on neuvillette's, the three letter announcement evaporates from his tongue as fluid as when sunlight enters the raindrops and emerges as rainbows from afar.

and yes, much to his surprise he didn't die because of it, who would've saw that coming? although the iudex wholeheartedly believed that he would suffer from a cardiac arrest due to the vast bursts of anxiety gradually chugging away his confidence.

"can i sit on your lap?" you smile gently, unsure whether his silence is that of enthusiasm or distaste.

neuvillette can hardly register it at first before he presses out a pathetic little yes when his excitement reaches the roof of his head and violently breaks through it, showing you those open and loving eyes that were the golden entry to his soul.

you hear a deep, breathless pant when you sit on him, witnessing how a hefty amount of redness catches up to his face until battering his ears, ultimately coaxing out a shiver from his spine.

don't misunderstand his unusual reactions— but neuvillette couldn't quite fathom that you belonged to him and sought out his body like that, it's always special when you nonchalantly rounded your hands on his face and replenished his energy anew, as if his frame was reborn in its most perfect form solely when he felt your trace.

and so, he cannot get enough of your warmth— no wonder when you remind yourself of the pure emotions that he harbored deeply for you.

instinctively, you rest your body against his chest, a soft glow rounding up your facial features, "ah, can't wait until you're done with this," you huff and point at his office desk being crowded by a bunch of papers as you press a small peck against the tip of his nose, ruffling his hair a little.

"it is rather late, you mustn't stay here," he insists, a barely distinctive curve of his lips turning all the difference in the choice of his tone.

"oh? does that mean you want to get rid of me?" how terribly skilled you were when you soaked your words in viscous sarcasm— so skillful in fact that neuvillette would always fall for it head first, or that's what you thought.

he raises a brow before curving one arm around your waist, leaning you against his chest so you wouldn't be able to move an inch, even if you tried.

"now," he playfully scolds, "you, my love, couldn't be farer from the truth."

"and here i thought you must know me by now?"

"i'm joking with you!" you panic, battering his cheek with little kisses as if he didn't know— but neuvillette sees how happy you were whenever you believed you fooled him.

he cocks an eyebrow at you, his mannerism in a questioning stance.

"apologies, aren't jokes supposed to be humorous?"

you scoff, "hmpf, now you're just mean!"

— kaveh

from an outer perspective, one couldn't possibly figure out who was clingier towards the other person— and even with someone being a close friends of the both of you, it's beyond the bounds of possibility to crown a winner.

you or kaveh? who yearned for the attention of the other more? to answer such difficult question, you should first know of the moniker a certain scribe has given you, in fact, within your friend-group kaveh and you had instantly claimed the title of most insufferable couple.

you might wonder, was that a bad thing? oh well, not at all!

and kaveh doesn't even attempt to conceal the priceless smirk on his face whenever he heard his roommate address the both of you as that— it turned him deeply fulfilled that everyone was able to see how crazy he was about you.

your heart feels full by his comforting arms that each throb rattles across your limbs and muscles, feeling weightless at the welcoming cradle— your love being whole, one touch and a gentle kiss on the lips and you feel on a bed of roses, tucked up in velvet.

"what is it?" kaveh leans at you, raising a brow at the way you peak behind his shoulder. during closer inspection, you catch up on a sneaky little smirk that frames his lips the more you focused on what's behind him, "c'mon baby, tell me," kaveh kisses your cheek.

"i think they're calling us insufferable again." you point behind his shoulder, specifically at a table with three people— one wholly focused on the cards in his hands and remaining unbothered while the others sneakily glanced over to you every now and then, whispering incoherent mumbles into each others ears with their palms covering their lips.

and your words don't achieve anything besides making him all the more amused when he wraps his arms around your waist, it's evident, very much so but kaveh was fond of the situation— perhaps he even prided himself on it, he has the audacity to act surprised though.

he laughs, nudging the tip of his nose against your jaw, "they're probably just talking about a way to beat cyno in tcg."

he continues, "we should leave early," and states firmly, "but i think alhaitham took my keys again."

"how does this always happen?" you note tiresomely before dropping your head onto his shoulder— a little too dramatically so that the scribe picked up on it immediately, revealing a triumphant smirk.

perhaps that is why they say love is such magic, this gift from the universe that was unable to be compared, this sweet addiction that no matter what situation you were in, big or small, if it's the two of you facing it together, it was nothing.

— scaramouche

even if scaramouche doesn't straight out admit it to you, he likes it whenever you were clingy with him— and after a good while of you two being in a relationship, he will more and more show his genuine love of it until he’s practically playing with the thought of begging for more.

in the beginning it starts by how fast his cheeks flame red and his focus dwindling as you hug him. after that particular encounter scaramouche memorizes what you did and decides that this must be a proper way to greet you as well— maybe even give you a little kiss on the cheek if he's feeling like it.

scratch that, what he lacks was the courage to go that far.

but no matter how often you would greet him this way, the action alone send him spiraling, shyly snuggling closer to you, inch by inch, although not risking it to hold eye contact and instead averting his gaze as he attempts to indulge in it nervously— stiff as concrete with both arms frozen on each side of his body when you wrapped your limbs around him.

he leans into your touch and closes his eyes— how warm, it's as if the sun itself would shine down on him and prickle on his skin, you feel so whole, like a home.

your touch, it's difficult to explain besides the fact that it carries such passion, and before scaramouche could register it— what was once scarred long ago expresses gentleness all of a sudden. 

although not everything from his past could be forgotten, yet your presence made it bearable.

what was also a crucial task to scaramouche was his recent curiosity in understanding the concept of love and how he fell for it— while he ultimately came to the conclusion that the only way to understand love is to feel it, attempt to embody it, or embrace it in its complete form. 

next time, you greet him with a blank look on your face as he applies your method on you first, slightly catching you off guard as he welcomes you home almost wordlessly, taking your hand in his cold one when he pulls you into a hug— it is a silent engage and the way he practically dragged you into him made your forehead smack his shoulder.

thankfully scaramouche doesn't have to speak in order for you to understand what he was trying to signalize here.

what's following next would be considered even sillier than him blatantly copying you, but when the two of you walk alongside each other through the hustling streets of sumeru city, you flinch a little at a strong grab on your hand ambushing you, "hey, nope— hold on, stop walking and give me your hand dammit," scaramouche scoffs as he chases after it, when with a quick motion, he traps it finally and tangles his digits around your own.

"there's no fun if i make it easy," you wink, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his jaw, "i like the faces you make when you're mad, you know? your expressions are so cute."

"don't you realize you're wasting time like that?" scaramouche clicks his tongue before squeezing your hand in his grasp, letting out an audible hmph before turning his head towards the street.

"honestly? that's fine by me," you coo softly, smothering him with the attention he craves as more of your fingers dig into the soft flesh of his palm.

"as long as you still love me, of course."

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You... (But We're Filling The Cracks)

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings.

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock | @whore-of-many-hot-men

Chapter 19

[Prev] [Next]

28 hours.

Those were Law’s least favorite shifts.  Where his bedroom was a temporary call room with a stiff twin-size mattress and a single flat pillow, and where his companion was his hospital pager and not the warmth of your body next to his.  Not like he got much sleep to begin with, not with his pager going off in the ungodly hours of the morning due to the sheer spontaneity of cardiac events.

After 28 long, grueling hours, the warmth of the summer sun finally graced the skin of his exhausted face as he stepped through the hospital’s entrance doors and walked through the parking lot to his car, placing his work bag in the passenger seat.  Normally, he’d head straight home to hold you in his arms and bury his face in the flesh of your belly where you were the most soft and warm, but today he had a different plan.  From the inside of his bag, he procured a small box, placing it securely in the empty cup holder below the center console before putting his car into gear and driving to his destination.

It didn’t take him too long to get across the city where he miraculously found street parking in front of his destination.  He placed the box safely inside the pocket of his slacks, reaching into his car’s ashtray to procure a few coins for the parking meter.  Stepping out of his car and onto the sidewalk, he gazed at the sign of the building in front of him.

SABAODY’S JEWELERS

A longtime, family owned business known for their exceptional craftsmanship of handmade jewelry, Law was very familiar with the owners.  After all, it was where he had your engagement ring made.  He palmed the box in his pocket as he took a deep breath and walked through the entrance.

A black-haired older woman sat behind the front counter, casually flipping through a newspaper as she moved an unlit cigarette around her lips.  Her sharp, analytical eyes darted upward at the sound of the bell on the door signaling Law’s entrance.  She smiled upon seeing the man, folding the newspaper and uncrossing her legs to stand from the stool she was perched on.

“Trafalgar Law, it’s been a minute!  How’ve you been?”  She excitedly leaned over the counter, her v-neck tank top revealing a bit more cleavage than Law was comfortable with, but he smiled fondly at her enthusiasm.

“I’ve been well, Shakky, thanks.  How’s Rayleigh?”  The man kept his hands in his pockets, fidgeting with the box.

“Oh you know, can’t get him to sit down.  Not even for a moment,” Shakky joked, removing the unlit cigarette from her lips and placing it on a small napkin behind the checkout register.  “How’s the wife?”

Law’s smile grew a bit wider at the mention of you.  “We could be better, that’s kind of what I came in here for.”

The older woman’s eyebrows quirked upward in confusion as she watched Law pull the small box from his pocket, opening it and placing it on the counter.  Inside was a tiny plastic bag filled about halfway with a dusty, gray powder.

“Are those…” she started.

“Ashes,” Law replied, finishing her sentence for her.  “We’ve… uhm… we’ve been having some fertility issues, to keep the story short.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” her voice was quiet and apologetic as she stared down at the tiny bag.  It seemed she picked up on what the ashes were from almost immediately, making Law relieved that he wouldn’t have to explain any further, not thrilled about reliving the sight of his dead baby in a bedpan.

“I was wondering if you would be able to make these into two pieces, I’m thinking of a ring and a necklace.  I don’t really know how jewelry works, but I figured you’d be able to come up with some ideas,” he offered, keeping his hand on the box as if to protect it.

Shakky’s eyes lit up at the prospect.  “Of course I could, I’ve done many cremation pieces before.  Do you mind if I take a look at them?”  She made a small motion towards the box, catching on to the way Law’s fingers remained positioned around the tiny bag to snatch it away for safekeeping.

He pushed it forward, wordlessly giving her permission.  Shakky’s long fingers gently picked up the bag from inside of the box.  It was astronomically tiny, the small amount of ashes barely being more than a teaspoon in size.  Her heart clenched at the sight.  She was always so fond of you and Law, owing the heart surgeon a great deal for assisting with treating her own husband’s atrial fibrillation.  To think that such a sweet couple have had to go through something so traumatic, it made her soul weep at the thought.

“I have a fantastic idea,” she piped up, looking at Law.  “Come with me to the back, I’ll show you what I’ve got.”

Law followed her as she rounded the counter and trekked through her small storefront, past display tables full of handmade bracelets, earrings, and necklaces.  She pushed open a metal door in the far back of the shop, entering what Law presumed to be her workshop, or at least a small part of it.  He watched as she placed the box with the ashes down onto the countertop before she approached a small plastic storage container and procured a tiny fabric drawstring bag.  She emptied it into the palm of her hand, revealing a small, simple gold ring band with a flat, circular pendant in the middle.

“This was an experiment I was doing with plant ashes, so it’s not for sale, but I’d be able to do something like this.  I melted down glass, mixed the ashes into the glass, and cooled and shaped it to fit into the face of this ring, similar to a gemstone.  I’m able to change the color of the glass depending on what you might want,” she explained, moving the ring around under the light so Law could get a good look at the details.  “Considering how there’s… well… not many ashes, I think this might be the best choice.”

The tiny piece of jewelry was indeed quite beautiful, even if it was just an artistic test.  The way the ashes were embedded into the colorful glass gave it a quartz-like appearance that glittered under the fluorescent lights of Shakky’s work room.

“What kind of colors can you do?” he asked, officially intrigued.

“All kinds, but I typically do white and blue for glass pieces,” she offered.  “The blue is a light, sky blue color, similar to an aquamarine.”

Law nodded, contemplating.  “Are you able to do one that’s more plain?”

“I’m able to do whatever your little heart wants,” she teased.

The black-haired man grinned.  “Can you do blue glass for the ring and white for the necklace?  The necklace is for me,” he asked, tracing his collarbone with the pads of his fingers.

Shakky smiled from ear to ear, clutching her test ring in her palm as she excitedly nodded.  “Law, dear, I’d be honored to do this for you and your wife.  If you want to hang around, I can have them done in about two hours.”

“That quick?” he asked, exasperated.  “I don’t want you to have to drop your current work just for me.”

“Boy, did you see me doing work when you walked in?  If you call doing the daily crossword ‘work’ then I’m concerned about what you do on your breaks!”  She tossed a joking smile at the man as she slipped her test ring back into its fabric bag, placing it back into the storage container it came from.

“I’ll meet you by the front to pay–” Law began before Shakky cut him off.

“Nope, on the house.”

“Shakky, this is work,” he argued.

“It might be, but this is special for you and your wife.  Consider this part of a gift from me for all you’ve done for myself and my family,” she said, her words laced with tenderness.  “If you really want to repay me so badly, bring me a six pack later tonight before I close.”

Law smirked.  “You got yourself a deal.”

Shakky sealed their arrangement with a hearty, friendly smack to his shoulder, making him wince slightly.  She was far stronger than her outward appearance let on.  “See you in two hours, kid.”

Law exited her back room, making his way past her various display tables and shelves to the front of the store before exiting out the front.  He pulled his phone from his pocket, navigating to your contact and calling your cell phone.

It rang about three times before the receiver clicked and your voice spoke through the speaker.

[Hi, baby!  Are you on your way home?]

Law thought you must have had some form of supernatural ability, the way your voice was able to consistently brighten his day every time he heard you.  “I’m actually downtown, are you free right now?”

Small shuffling sounds could be heard in the background.  [Once I’m done cleaning out the cabinets I will be!  Do you wanna meet somewhere?]

The man chuckled.  “Why are you cleaning out the cabinets?”

[I was bored and didn’t want to be alone with my own thoughts.]  You had a point.

“Well stop cleaning, meet me at Cafe Brook.  I want to see you,” he chided through the phone, his voice giving away the smile on his face as he spoke to you.

[Aye aye, captain!  I’ll see you in a bit, I love you!]

“Love you, too, baby,” he replied before the call was cut off.  He shoved his phone into his pocket and began the short walk to the agreed upon location.

—

Law was waiting outside the restaurant for you and grinned as you approached, a sundress adorning your body and your bag slung over your shoulder as you walked with a slight skip in your step.  While your husband wasn’t much for PDA, that didn’t stop you from taking his hands in yours and pressing a tender kiss to the corner of his lips.

“Hi,” you said with a small giggle.

“Hi,” he replied, wrapping his arm around your waist to guide you into the small cafe.

It was late in the morning nearing the end of the brunch hour, so many of the tables were empty leaving you and Law with a wonderful table in the corner by the sunlit window.  You hung your bag on the back of your chair before you took your seat, adjusting your dress under your legs while Law immediately took a sip of the complimentary tap water on the table.

“This was such a nice surprise!” you said, jovially.  “Why were you downtown?”

Your husband shrugged, keeping his smile content, trying to hold in what he was scheming.  “Just had to run some errands, that’s all.”

You rested your head in the palm of your hand on the table, your eyes gazing at him knowingly.  “You’re not trying to surprise me, are you?”

“I would never.  You don’t need surprises,” he replied, tossing a mischievous smirk at you.

You laughed, poking your tongue out at him.  “Well, whatever you were doing, I’m always happy to get brunch with you.  Especially after such a long shift… how was it, by the way?”  Your own hand clutched your cup of water, your fingers releasing some of the condensation and causing droplets of water to flow down the outside of the glass.

Law groaned as a response to your question, making you smile sympathetically.  “28 hours of pain,” he griped.  “Everyone always waits until three in the morning to have urgent health issues.”

You reached your hand across the table to pat his forearm.  He responded by adjusting his arm so his hand could hold yours.  “Well, now you have two days off!”

A waiter came by and passed out some small paper menus, but the two of you almost immediately decided on what to order.  A plate of curly fries to split, a hearty breakfast sampler for Law after having eaten very little in the last 28 hours, and a toasted blueberry muffin for you.  A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you gazed around the interior of the restaurant.  The entire joint was trying to be old-school rock and roll themed, but it harshly clashed with the rustic wooden entryway and wall sidings.  The entire establishment was a strange cacophony of design choices, made even more humorous with the multiple posters and framed platinum records of the famed jazz musician Soul King Brook, who’s name was the inspiration for the establishment.  (No one actually knew if Brook had anything to do with the place, though.)

“Hey, remember how my friends came over last week and left that basket of stuff?” you asked, alerting Law’s worried attention from the frightening poster of the almost skeletonized pop star.

“Yeah, what about?” he asked, giving you his full regard.

“So I was actually texting Vivi again yesterday,” you stated.  “She gave me the names of a few counselors in the area who specialize with women’s health and pregnancy issues… and I think I’m going to try one of them out just to see what’s up.”

Law straightened his shoulders.  “That… sounds like a fantastic idea.”

“You think?” you asked, slightly nervous about his opinion.

“Of course, I think that’d be really good for you to help you adjust to everything that’s happened,” he clarified.

You smiled, feeling your chest flutter with his support.  “If my first appointment goes well, would you want to maybe come with me?” you asked.  “I mean… you know… you deserve support, too.”

Law felt his own chest clench at your words.  You were right, he was just as damaged as you were over the whole situation.  His mind flashed back to Shakky’s jewelry store, where the woman was most likely hunched over her work table shaping hot glass as they spoke.  He nodded slowly, albeit enthusiastically.  “I think that would help me a lot, if I went with you.”

“Even just to talk everything out with a professional,” you added, hoping to solidify his decision.

Your husband nodded once again.  “Exactly.”

The smile you gave to the man made his face flush with heat.  Your beaming grin, a sight he seemed to have missed more often since your second miscarriage, the smile that bore the heat of one thousand suns and yet filled his entire soul with the fuzzy comfort that only you could provide.  He fell in love with you more and more each time he saw that brilliant smile.

Your food came out from the kitchen and was passed toward you, Law’s mouth instantly beginning to salivate at the sight of the greasy bacon and eggs spread out on the porcelain, next to a generous helping of homefries and whole wheat toast.  He watched with a small smile as you took a delighted bite out of your blueberry muffin that was cut in half down the middle and slathered with a smear of butter on each side.

—

“Law, why are we at Sabaody’s?” you asked, your voice riddled with skepticism as your husband led you by your hand the few blocks it took to get from the restaurant to the jeweler’s.  Law had received a text during your meal that made him appear jumpy, and he remained that way until you had finished eating and paid the bill.

“No reason,” he replied, the weakest excuse known to man as he pushed open the door to the storefront, beckoning you inside.

Shakky rounded the corner out of her work room, smiling upon seeing you.  She held two boxes in her hands, but quickly placed them safely in a small brown paper bag which she promptly handed to Law.  

“Oh, dear, it’s so good to see you!” she called, making you smile as she dipped down for a friendly hug.

“You too, Shakky!  How’s your husband?” you asked, figuring the same question must have been asked by your own man.

“Constantly running at 100% capacity,” she responded with a sarcastic eye roll.  She turned her attention back to Law and tossed him a wink.  “All set!”

“Thank you so much, Shakky, I really appreciate it,” he answered, reaching over the checkout counter to shake her hand.  

You watched their interaction with profound confusion.  “What are you two scheming without me?”

“Nothing,” the older woman responded, a coy grin on her face as she waved the two of you out of the storefront.  

Law kept the bag clenched in his hand as he walked, his opposite hand holding you as he led you back to his car.

“Law, I parked down the road,” you indicated, but he quickly opened his passenger side door and ushered you inside.

“I know, but this is important,” he uttered.  His words sounded rushed, almost panicky, making worry begin to sprout in your mind.  What in the world had he done?

You watched as he rounded the front of his car and plopped himself into his driver's seat, closing and locking the doors around you with the switch below the handle.  He nervously fumbled with the bag, pulling out the two boxes that had been handed to him by the older woman.

“So… I… uhm…” he was frantically tripping over his words, a far cry from the man you had met for brunch almost three hours prior.  “I might have gone behind your back and done something.”

You stared at him with concern.  “... Okay…?”

Law’s hands were slightly trembling as he opened the smaller box, revealing a brilliant silver banded ring with a small blue glass pendant in the middle.  It glittered in the sunlight, the tiny but stunning faux gem casting blue hues reflected from the sun on the top lid of the box.  He passed it over to you, watching as you gently took it in your hands and gazed with wide eyes at the subtle piece of jewelry.

“Law…?”  You looked over at him as he opened the second box, revealing a similar small pendant necklace on a thick, sturdy silver chain.  The stone on the necklace was a simple white stone that looked similar to an opal.

“At the hospital, after you fell asleep and before we went home that night, I tracked down the nurse that took our baby and asked her to bring me to the mortuary to have someone cremate him,” he explained.  “His ashes are in the jewelry.”

Your eyes were wide as you took in his words, gazing back at the bright blue glass pendant on the ring.  Your voice was trembling as you struggled for words.  “You… it…”

Law reached his shaking hands over to you, pulling the ring out of the box and taking your right hand in his.  He slipped the ring over your right-hand ring finger, feeling inwardly satisfied as it fit perfectly on your digit.  He laced his hand with yours, your eyes never tearing away from the pendant on the ring.

“I got the ring for you, and the necklace for me,” he whispered, leaning closer to you over the center console.

Your eyes darted upward to meet his own, tears brimming in the corners as you bit your wobbling lip.  With a blubbery laugh, you gave him a small, playful shove on his shoulder.  “You need to stop making me cry!”

Law chuckled himself, pulling you in for an uncomfortable hug over the center compartment in his car.  You eagerly wrapped your arms around his shoulders, burying your head into the junction of his neck.  He could feel your smile on his skin as you sniffled into his shirt.

“Law…” you mumbled, pulling away from him to gaze at the ring.  “I can’t… I can’t believe it…”

Your husband was smiling, a content grin that held the same amount of sadness that you still felt in your heart after losing your unborn 12-week-old.  His attention was torn from your soft face as you reached over for the other box in his lap, pulling out the necklace and unlatching the clasp.  Your hands trailed around his neck to link the chain around him, watching with fondness as the white pendant sat perfectly in between his collarbones.

“Looks good on you…” you sighed, your hands tracing the tan skin around the pendant, the feeling making goosebumps rise on Law’s skin.  “Our baby…”

“Now he’ll still be with us wherever we go,” he whispered.

You wiped away your tears with the collar of your dress.  “When did you get so sappy?” you asked, jokingly.

Law grinned.  “Well, admittedly, one of my nurses gave me the idea.  She told me her sister lost a pregnancy, and they had the remains cremated and made into little rocks that they spread through their favorite hiking trail.”

“That’s so beautiful,” you cooed, your tears slowing down.  The new ring on your finger brought you a strange sense of comfort you had yet to feel, something almost akin to closure.  It was a small patch in the cracks that made up your broken heart, cracks that your husband was slowly learning to rebuild, and that you were doing to his own.

“God,” you sighed, leaning back in your seat.  “What did I do to deserve you?”

Law’s hand brushed over your cheek.  “I should be asking the same thing.”

You stared blankly out the front windshield before asking, “Can we just have Shachi or Penguin pick up my car?  I don’t want to leave you.”

Your sudden question made Law snort out a laugh as he pulled out his phone.  “I’d be more than happy to ask, my love.”

[unpopularbunny]

Heeeeeyyyy been hitting rock bottom, but it still has a bottom 💃

Did my best for yandere kirishima 🗿

You already know what it is: chubby reader, everyone is 18+, lmk if you want a part two, not beta read so pls don’t @ me about mistakes or I’ll throw up and cry. Reblogging makes u sexy and irresistible 👁️ 👄 👁️

Minors stay in the mines pls.

(This lowkey got away from me so readmore.)

🌺 🌸 🌺

Kirishima never thought he could have a fanclub

He always saw those endeavor fans and groupies as….kinda cringe. The way they’d wear shirts with his face plastered on them and gush and squeal when endeavor would grace them with his presence and do meet and greets. The mere crumb of attention to them and they were stoking endeavors ego like no tomorrow. He was genuinely curious as to why the seasoned hero would give them any form of fuel to keep up ridiculous obsessions.

When he got the confidence to do it, he asked him why he even gave them attention and gratification, he was met with a deep rumbling chuckle.

‘You’re young kid, wait till you get a fanclub.’

He laughed with him, albeit a bit nervously, but doubted he’d ever find the real charm in a fanclub.

That was until he had one of course, all it took was you.

You were the head of his first fanclub, so short and precious in his eyes. You approached him after he’d saved some kids and asked him for an autograph. Your eyes were glittery and face deeply flushed as you held out a framed photo of him shamelessly. It was off putting at first but the way you were borderline cardiac arrest when his fingertips brushed yours. It Made his smile twitch at the corner. He played it cool, asked your name, you sputtered it out and then boldly added that you were the head of the first official red riot fanclub!

He almost choked on the air he was breathing.

Maybe endeavor had a point.

He sought you out first, finding your website and reaching out to arrange a meet and greet, what kind of pro hero would he be if he didn’t show love to his most loyal fans?

Despite your and embarrassing collection of red riot merchandise (don’t worry! You made sure to hide the body pillow under your bed!!), kirishima found himself on your couch with you firing out meet and greet dates and plans. You chattered so endlessly and freely, injecting facts about him here and there that he didn’t even notice himself (it honestly made him feel so….exposed and vulnerable.). When it got too late he let himself out but promise you two would come to an agreement of something.

Late night patrol felt longer than usual, he kept thinking about you and all the hard work you put into knowing him, noticing him. He’d never had someone be so….. infatuated. He felt kind of bad, you’d put so much effort into knowing him and yet….all he knew of you was your name and main interest: Him.

It was so rude of him, he had to make an effort!

So in an attempt to match your enthusiasm, he did a little….harmless recon.

For the next two weeks every spare moment was spent watching and noting when you left, where you went, your job, your friends, and when you went to bed. It wasn’t weird!!! The way you’d draw your curtains before going to shower and open them back up after you’d finished. He saw almost every expression you could make; the joy of scoring an ultra rare edition red riot figure, the anger of losing a betting war on eBay, the way you’d stomp your way home after a long horrible day at work, and even the way you’d cry at a sad movie. Your laugh was getting to be intoxicating and don’t think he missed the times when you’d cuddle up nice and tight to that body pillow. Where the hell did you even get that?

He had to know more about you-

Not in a weird way! He just wanted to be kind to his number one fan! You worked so very hard for him and he took it to heart, there wasn’t anything wrong with giving you a little….special attention.

🌸 🌺 🌸

The first meet and greet went well! His fans were just as energetic as you and he genuinely enjoyed it. His fans weren’t like you though, they were nice of course, but they didn’t seem to pay attention to detail like you did. He shook hands, signed so many things his hand cramped and would every so often glance at you handing out free drinks and snacks. You looked so good in red, his red. You were dressed casually, a red riot shirt and some jeans. Like you were publicly claiming to belong to him.

He busied his mind with his fans and before long it was over and he had stayed to help clean, what hero wouldn’t? It was baffling the way you noticed all his little personality quirks and twitches but couldn’t notice when he was standing close enough to smell your sweet perfume.

You kept rambling off about how well he did in capturing the villain in last nights news, he was amazed at how you spoke so fast without tripping over words when he was around. At the small comment that he was proud of your improvement, your bashful reaction wasn’t missed on him. The way you were speechless for a moment, how you licked your lips and did everything possible to look anywhere that wasn’t him. Rambling about the work you’ve been putting in to be more worthy of being in the presence of red riot-

“Kirishima eijirou” he corrected.

“Huh?”

“You can call me by my name you know! We’re friends after all!” This only set your nerves more on fire.

“Okay….uh….Kiri-Kirishima” Your voice was so quiet, as if you felt like you were telling a secret. He took notice of this, how you seemed more….reserved? Bashful? He had to pull more from you.

It was brief but he reached for the same empty cup you did and let his fingertips brush along your hand, you snatched it back as if he’d burned you and apologized profusely. Almost as if you were….afraid? Not of him, of course not. This wasn’t fear…..what was this? Flushed face and nervous smile as you chattered away to drive attention away from the newfound contact.

He hadn’t seen this reaction before.

He liked this reaction….to him it was….borderline erotic.

He wanted to see much more.

You were too busy avoiding his face to notice the look he was giving you. His eyes were clouded and unwavering, boring into you in an unnerving manner. There was an odd feeling in his stomach that climbed to his chest and threatened to come out of his mouth as if he were throwing up. Kirishima almost reached for you, to do what? He has no fucking clue. He excused himself, saying he was paged by his manager regarding some brand deals. This wasn’t a complete lie, he did get the page, about two hours ago. Your smile was kind as you waved him off and said you could manage the cleaning by yourself. He had to get away from you. You were suffocating him.

Your voice, your smile, especially the way you acted around him. How desperate you seemed for his approval and praise. You worked so hard to impress him time and time again. It was all he could think about. It made his heart beat thump so loudly in his ears.

He ducked into the closest bathroom and did something so foul and shameless. He locked himself in the stall furthest from the door, muttering incoherent things under his breath. His shirt was pulled up an held there by his teeth while his hands undid his pants, his hands were sloppy and after two failed attempts he growled and yanked until the button snapped and fall somewhere he didn’t care for. He braced one hand on the wall next to him and the other to jerk himself off. He was thinking of the smile on your face, the bounce in your walk- fuck- the way you bounced when you had a good day- you, bouncing. He wanted to see you bouncing in his lap.

Or maybe underneath him, he could even fuck you on-top of your precious red riot body pillow. He wanted to trap you somewhere dark where no one could see the things he’d do to you, how deep he’d try to get himself inside of you. It would be too easy to have you all to himself whenever he wanted, his own personal fan that he could pump love into whenever you begged for it. He was trying so hard to keep his noises to his self, muffled whimpers and groans. Tears were brimming his eyes from overbearing stimulation but he couldn’t stop now, not like this, his mind was rushing.

You were his precious fan, a girl so blindly devoted to him without question. Sure, girls had confessed to him before and even slept with him, but it never lasted long and the more they found out about him the quicker they seemed to leave. Calling him immature and childish. But you. You knew endless things about him and still had the audacity to open those cute lips of yours and ask him questions while fluttering your eyelashes at him. He wants to know if you’d say his name if he had you helplessly pinned underneath him, if you could still list off his accomplishments while bouncing in his lap. He wanted to pinch and grope every part of your soft supple body he could get his hands on, he wanted to bite and suck on you in ways he could be arrested for just to see you cry or make a mess of yourself just for him-

His legs shook as he came, he was doing his best not to pse right then and there as he came down from the rush of adrenaline. What the fuck was his problem? What had he just done? He’d hardly ever touched you and here he was like some deranged pervert, hunched over in a public bathroom with his shirt in his mouth fisting his cock to the mere thought of something that would never happen. The shame set in and he wanted to apologize to you but how the fuck could he even do that? ‘My bad, I jerked it in the bathroom to the though of your body that I’ve hardly ever seen before.’ ??? Then again, what harm could it really do? If you were such a devoted fan as you claimed, you wouldn’t think he was disgusting and weird. You’d embrace it and welcome him. You had to and he would make sure-

Kirishima jumped when his phone buzzed in his pocket, it was texts and missed calls from his manager. He cursed and called his manager back post haste. He did his best to clean up whatever mess he left while his manager chewed his ear out for ignoring him. It was all in one ear out the other as kirishima dumbly apologized inbetween rants. He was only partially listening, he was back to reflecting on you, he realized something.

He had no idea what your quirk was.

In all the days and hours he spent doing his ‘innocent’ recon, he’d never once seen you use or do anything that would indicate what your quirk would be. He didn’t want to outright ask you, that would be so very rude of him! He’d have to figure it out somehow, mostly so he could know how vulnerable you really were-Not that he was planning to do anything to you, nothing bad of course.

He just wanted to know more about you.

🌺 🌸 🌺

Around the corner from the bathroom that kirishima had just exited, you stood with your hands clasped so tightly around your mouth and nose you were suffocating yourself. Your eyes were wide and you had no idea what the fuck you’d just heard. You were leaving the conference room to find more cleaning spray when you’d heard something…..something you don’t think you were supposed to hear.

You weren’t a hero because 1. You never wanted to be and 2. You didn’t think ‘super hearing’ had an actual use in the hero field other than espionage. It took you years to learn how to ‘tone the noise down’ to manageable levels that didn’t give you ample opportunity to listen to others conversations. You could still let go of the hold you had on it to let yourself relax, mostly when you were alone.

Like when kirishima left.

As soon as you were in the hall and rounded the corner you could hear something….lewd. Panting, wet noises, muffled moans, ect… It wasn’t like you’d never…seen porn. You knew sex noises when you heard them. You were frozen where you stood, to your left was the door to the mens bathroom. There was no way. Who had the audacity to be so vulgar and disgusting in a public setting? You had half a mind to get your phone and alert the authorities. The only thing that held you back was that the voice sounded….familiar. It sounded kind of like-

There was no way-

Absolutely not-

He wouldn’t-

Kirishima was not like that.

He was good, pure, and heroic-

And cumming in a public bathroom stall like a pervert.

You weren’t sure how to feel, honestly, why the fuck was he even doing it???? You listened to him pant and catch his breath and when you heard movement you darted back around the corner you came from. You pressed yourself against the wall and covered your mouth with both hands to stifle any chance he could hear you breathing. He answered a phone call, his manager was mad he ignored his page two hours ago? Didn’t his manager just page him? Why would he lie to you? Your face felt so hot and you were so very, very confused.

After hearing the door open and close, you waited a bit before lowering your hands and taking a deep breath to keep from passing out. You still needed to find that cleaner so you waited a bit longer before trying to go back around the corner, there wasn’t any time to dwell on what you’d just heard, nor was it even your business.

Upon turning the corner you were cut off by him. When you dared look up, you wished you hadn’t. He was still on his phone but the expression on his face was as if he couldn’t hide his joy and glee at seeing you. His smile twitching at the edge and spark in his eye that threatened to incinerate. You took one step back, he took one forward, why did you feel so scared? He was a top ten hero, he was your number 1 hero. He saved countless lives and was a shining beacon of camaraderie and bro-ness! Right now he didn’t resemble anything like a hero.

“My bad man, I gotta go! Something came up, I’ll make it up to you I promise.” He didn’t wait for a response and hung up, how did you not hear him??

“I-I’m so sorry-“

“What are you sorry for sweetheart? Did you do something wrong?” He sounded…threatening, “Did something happen?” He leaned down and was so close.

“No it- it’s just I thought-“

“You thought what?” He was pushing you too say it, to mark you squirm. Your fight or flight was in high gear now and you itched to take off running.

“I thought I had enough c-cleaner but I ran out so I came to get more.” Pleasebuyitpleasebuyitpleasebuyit-

“Ohhh,” He leaned back and you exhaled, “Well let me get outta your way so you can get back to it then” He smiled and you gave a nervous smile back before he left.

Once you were absolutely sure that you were finally alone, you collapsed against the wall and let out a breath you were holding. What even was that? What was with the look on his face? You shook your head and continued on your search for cleaner, you had to keep your mind occupied so you didn't dwell on whatever just happened.

just....what the fuck???

[darkmaga-returns]

ALTHOUGH we have recently published evidence of people voting with their feet with regard to covid vaccine take-up, there are few grounds for believing that the millions of words written disproving the ‘safe and effective’ mantra have influenced government establishment at all. In fact what we have seen is denial and pushback. Today we publish four articles that illustrate in their different ways how key evidence is still being determinedly censored and ignored by the Hallett Inquiry and the Scottish Government, and in the US by Joe Biden and Big Pharma.

BEEN covid vaccinated? Yes, get boosters. Had your covid boosters? Yes, get another one . . . and another one. We seem to be in the era of the fifth covid booster now. Or is it the sixth? It is hard to keep up, but rest assured that our governments and public health fanatics will not rest until we are umpteenth booster vaccinated up to our eyeballs.

It is nothing to worry about, apparently. The side-effects only include pain, redness or swelling at the injection site, feeling tired or fatigued, headache, muscle aches or joint pains, chills, dizziness, swollen lymph nodes and nausea. Oddly, no mention of stroke, cardiac arrest, pulmonary embolism (all associated with the increased likelihood of blood clots) and death. No, nothing to see here.

However, enthusiasm for covid vaccinations is waning, as figures from the US demonstrate. The way data are presented by the UK government makes it hard to ascertain what the uptake of covid vaccination boosters is but, given that the figures for care homes used to be over 80 per cent and are now only over 60 per cent indicates that, even in a captive and largely compliant population (‘covid jab with your cup of tea, dear?’) there is resistance. Sally Beck reported for TCW on Monday that NHS staff are refusing to have the jabs.

It is clear, on both sides of the Atlantic, that regarding covid vaccination, we have now entered ‘who gives a damn?’ territory. The harbingers of doom regarding the devastation of the population by covid, the ‘everyone is at risk’ message and the purportedly protective effects of the covid vaccines have been proved to be false. That is not to mention the accumulating evidence of potential and actual harms associated with the covid vaccines.

[mango-fizz]

hi do you have a link to that post of the the marie reader late night radio talk show interview thingy you wrote i need to dunk my brain in good writing

tumblr search fucking sucks so here just have it, again akfhdkbsbd

As you sit there, listening to Marie introduce you as a guest on her podcast, you can't help but wonder: How did you land this opportunity!? Seriously, holy shit! That's Marie, from the Squid Sisters, right in front of you!

You do your best to make it seem like you're listening and responding like a normal person and totally not losing your mind. 

Really, you should be used to this by now. As a model for popular clothing brands, you've been on countless talk shows, interviews, and events, meeting tons of celebrities and important people in the industry.

But none of them were Marie.

To reiterate, Marie from the Squid Sisters!!

"I'm so glad you found time to come on the show tonight. I'm sure you must be very busy," you hear her say, reminding you that this is very much real. 

"Not at all, I-I must thank you for the opportunity to talk with you, um, on the podcast." You try to make the waver in your voice less obvious. 

Marie chuckles, and even if it was a performative one your hearts still hammer out of your chest. You smile involuntarily. How embarrassing.

She moves on to standard interview questions, many you've already been asked before, but you answer again with twice the enthusiasm, as if it was the first time anyone in the world had ever questioned such a thing.

She flips her flashcards with such elegance, your eyes are drawn to her hands. Every movement she does is filled with grace. Adjusting her mic, tucking her tentacles around her headset, sipping her drink through the straw…

You blush. Okay, seriously, stop it. Pay attention. You have to be professional about this. You clasp your hands together in an attempt to appear serious and in focus, but it's really to conceal how sweaty your palms are.

Marie smirks. "So, I heard you're a big fan of the Squid Sisters?" 

You feel like you might go into cardiac arrest. She found out about that? You hadn't exactly been secretive about it, you suppose. But if she didn't notice the flush in your face before, she must certainly notice now. You clear your throat.

"W-well, yes, actually. I am." You try so hard to not think about the way her eyes light up at your answer. "It's actually because of you that I decided to become a brand model."

"Oh?" she says, and you dread having to say the next words in front of her, or at all, and you briefly wish that someone would splat you right then and there. But she's looking at you with that glint in her eye that you've seen a million times on TV, and you think you could kiss her right now if she asked. 

"When I saw you on stage, or on the news, I was captivated. You shone with such beauty and charisma, and I was just instantly a fan. I thought, if I could be dazzling like you one day, I would be overjoyed."

You realize how cheesy and embarrassing that all sounded. You think you might faint if you weren't already sitting down. You take a sip of your water to distract you from the impending consequences of embarrassing yourself in front of your favorite idol.

"That's… quite the praise. I don't know what to say."

You work up the courage to glance up at her and she… she's blushing!? She's gotta be trying to kill you. Her smile is blinding. You think you might die.

"I feel honored, thank you," she continues, and when she says your name you feel your chest burst with joy. You could die right now and be sure you've lived a happy life. 

You remember you're supposed to act normal. You wrap your hands around your cup to hide their trembling.

"You're very welcome. You and Callie deserve only the highest praise." Yes! That seems normal enough. Good response.

"Do you have a favorite song, if you don't mind me asking?"

And there it is. You duck your head slightly as you mumble, "...Tide Goes Out."

She smiles again.

At this point you think to yourself that there's no way your disastrous crush on Marie hasn't been made blatantly obvious. With your constant praising and blushing every time Marie so much as breathed, you think you probably look a bit ridiculous. Good thing this show is a podcast and people can't see you. 

But Marie can see you. Very well, in fact, seeing as she's right across from you and the table is fairly small, and she's looking at you in such a way that feels like you're being read like an open book and you cannot attempt to hide a single thing from her even if you wanted to. 

"I'm flattered. Don't worry, I won't tell Cal," she says. There's a slight tease to her voice that has you weak. 

You laugh nervously, and it's the lamest response you could have given, but how else would you respond? Is this even real life anymore? You feel bad for the poor asshole that's gonna listen to this podcast ep later next week and die of cringe. 

The rest of the interview is a blur as you do your best to answer the questions as casually as possible. Eventually you find yourself nearing some semblance of relaxation. Marie's dry commentary is entertaining, making you laugh and join her for some witty back and forth. One of your jokes even manages to make her laugh earnestly (the sound made you smile so wide your cheeks hurt.) All of your interactions made you remember why you fell for her in the first place. She truly is just… amazing.

Turns out the poor listener next week will get a decent podcast episode out of this after all.

"Well, I think it's about time to wrap this up," she says. You sigh in equal parts relief and disappointment. Ending the podcast means saying goodbye to Marie. 

She goes through her usual goodbye script (you have it memorized by heart) and turns off the recording. 

"You okay? You seemed kinda nervous there. I'd have thought you'd be more used to interviews," there’s that teasing lilt again, and you can't decide if you're happy she's concerned about you or if you feel mortified. You scramble for some form of explanation.

"Y-yeah, sorry! It's fine. It's just, you're… amazing, Marie," you say, and you briefly worry if you're being too forward. Marie snorts (cute), before waving you off nonchalantly.

"Thanks, but I'm not anything special, really."

"Well, sure you are. I mean, you won the Splatfest, didn't you?"

Marie clears her throat. "I think that hardly matters."

[pretentious-art-love]

Album Reviews #68 - Typhoid and Swans by Sleepy People

What an incredible and mind-boggling sheer of genius and showcase of how much the human spirit can morph and evolve. While Cardiacs's music is filled with twists and turns, knots and entangled webs that simply evolve into a dazzling haircut with lots of volume, Sleepy People takes all these twists and turns and uses them to knot a very fine and delicate thread of all the most beautiful shapes and colors. The genius of this album lies in how intricate it can be while still following the reigns of trepidation in rhythm. The melodies can contain such a contagious enthusiasm, while the harmonies dance around wistfulness and longing. The instruments can also be as tender and careful as an instrument could ever be with you; the flute takes a big part in the main melodies, and the synths have an ethereal quality belonging to something that feels like nothing else than a lost land, forgotten between distant memories and far long gone time.

How beautiful it can be to dance in the middle of a forgotten forest, to find that magic of some of our most frail feelings and innocent demure, while they both turn into not just a journey, but a celebration of what we have lived and what we long to be, taking the mischievous and use it to give it light to plaintive. Music that can combine such opposite emotions into such a beautiful gem can't be called anything less than masterful.

7/10

[rockislandadultreads]

Nonfiction Thursday: New Title Recommendations

Around the Ocean in 80 Fish & Other Sea Life by Helen Scales

This is an inspiring tour of the world's oceans and 80 of its most notable inhabitants. Beautifully illustrated, the book includes fascinating stories of the fish, shellfish, and other sea life that have somehow impacted human life - whether in our medicine, culture or folklore - in often surprising and unexpected ways.

Ice by Amy Brady

Ice is everywhere: in gas stations, in restaurants, in hospitals, in our homes. Americans think nothing of dropping a few ice cubes into tall glasses of tea to ward off the heat of a hot summer day. When children bruise their arms or fall sick with fevers, parents wrap ice in dishtowels and press them tenderly to their skin. Nearly half of all refrigerators owned by Americans feature automatic ice machines. Ice-on-demand has so revolutionized modern life that it's easy to forget that it wasn't always this way...and to overlook what aspects of society might just melt away as the planet warms.

In Ice, journalist and historian Amy Brady shares the strange and storied two-hundred-year-old history of ice in America: from the introduction of mixed-drinks "on the rocks," to P. T. Barnum's first-ever indoor ice rink, to how delicacies like iced custard and iced tea revolutionized our palettes, to the ubiquitous ice machine in every motel across the U.S. But Ice doesn't end in the past. Brady also explores the surprising, present-day uses of ice in sports, medicine, and sustainable energy - including cutting-edge cryotherapy breast-cancer treatments and the promise of a substance called "flammable ice" that may prove to be a cleaner fuel source - underscoring how precious this commodity is, especially in an age of climate change.

In A Flight of Starlings by Giorgio Parisi

In this enchanting little book, celebrated physicist Giorgio Parisi guides us through his unorthodox yet exhilarating work, starting with investigating the principles of physics by observing the sophisticated flight patterns of starlings. Studying the movements of these birds, he has realized, proves an illuminating way into understanding complex systems of all kinds - collections of everything from atoms to planets to other animals like ourselves.

Along the way, he reflects on the lessons he's taken from a life in pursuit of scientific truth: the importance of serendipity to the discovery of new ideas, the surprising kinship between physics and other fields of study and the value of science to a thriving society. In so doing, he removes the practice of science from the confines of the laboratory and into the real world. Complexity is all around us - from climate to finance to biology, it offers a unique way of finding order in chaos.

Muscle by Roy A. Meals, MD

An entertaining illustrated deep dive into muscle, from the discovery of human anatomy to the latest science of strength training. Muscle tissue powers every heartbeat, blink, jog, jump, and goosebump. It is the force behind the most critical bodily functions, including digestion and childbirth, as well as extreme feats of athleticism. We can mold our muscles with exercise and observe the results.

In this lively, lucid book, orthopedic surgeon Roy A. Meals takes us on a wide-ranging journey through anatomy, biology, history, and health to unlock the mysteries of our muscles. He breaks down the three different types of muscle―smooth, skeletal, and cardiac―and explores major advancements in medicine and fitness, including cutting-edge gene-editing research and the science behind popular muscle conditioning strategies. Along the way, he offers insight into the changing aesthetic and cultural conception of muscle, from Michelangelo’s David to present-day bodybuilders, and shares fascinating examples of strange muscular maladies and their treatment. Brimming with fun facts and infectious enthusiasm, Muscle sheds light on the astonishing, essential tissue that moves us through life.

[adaoraiswriting]

Poem #14

oh what a dream it is to love you ! just call it cardiac arrest, perhaps a grenade. stuck under my roots

blown wide open

propelling me

farther

further

towards the light

that dizzying, infinite wrench

flicking bites of rust through my cornea. but what is blindness to the warmth? to your sticking sex

and when i become

vomit and bitchiness?

you feed off its enthusiasm

call it inherent

and transform bile into mulch

you always said

that energy comes from somewhere.

never anger, but energy.

no one has ever come close to your worthiness in my eyes.

but what use are the scrutinies

of the blind?

[thislovintime]

Performing in Houston on October 27, 1979; photo via RockinHouston dot com.

"Over the past 40+ years of publishing Blitz Magazine, one of the absolute highlights of that experience has been meeting, interviewing and getting to know a wide variety of the musicians who inspired this journalistic adventure. In the upper echelons of that group was a visionary and musical virtuoso who co-founded the band that was ultimately Blitz Magazine's pick for Best Band of the Twentieth Century, the Monkees. Born Peter Halsten Thorkelson in Washington, D.C. on 13 February 1942, Peter Tork was a classically trained pianist, who also excelled on banjo and bass guitar. Upon joining the band in 1965, Tork brought to the table a wealth of experience in classical, folk, rhythm and blues and rock, adding to the mission statement that would ultimately make the Monkees' catalog one of the most richly diverse in all of music. [...] 'This is not the kind of home that you would expect that someone who went through the kind of money that I did to be living in,' he said half in jest, as he beckoned Blitz Magazine inside of his modest home [in late 1979]. Nonetheless, his surroundings reflected one for whom music remained an all consuming passion, from the various instruments stationed in the living room, to the state of the art stereo system. Next to that stereo system sat a fascinating selection of vinyl albums, highlighted by releases by Donovan Leitch and Chuck Berry, with Martha And The Vandellas' 1965 Dance Party album on Gordy Records at the top of the stack. 'We need to run a quick errand first before we get started,' Tork said. 'I need to recycle.' With that, we loaded an assortment of used plastic containers in the trunk of his decades old, four speed import sedan and made the short drive to a neighboring recycling center. 'This is important to me,' Tork said above the din, as we joined others in adding to the pile of compost at the recycling center. 'It's up to each and every one of us to do our part.' As we headed back to his home, it was obvious from his comments that he had spent much of the past decade and a half on the defensive. The mainstream media had upon occasion been less than charitable in its coverage of him and his bandmates, and he had had enough of it. I nonetheless reassured him (as he was already fully aware) that Blitz Magazine was most definitely in his corner, and had come to sing his praises. With that, we once again sat down in his living room, as he held court and delivered what was arguably one of the most commanding and inspirational interviews of his lifetime. 'Blitz 'em all!,' he said, as we parted company late that afternoon. By the mid-1980s, the Monkees (with lead guitarist Michael Nesmith participating during select live appearances) had returned to form, recording occasionally and touring with a vengeance. Blitz Magazine would occasionally run into him at various industry functions. It was most encouraging to see that his passion and enthusiasm were very much in evidence. Eventually, Tork began to fill his time between Monkees activities with another musical project that would command much of his attention for the remainder of his life: the band Shoe Suede Blues. With a repertoire that included such well chosen outside material as Roy Head And The Traits' 1965 Back Beat label signature single, Treat Her Right and duly inspired original compositions, Shoe Suede Blues recorded prolifically and developed a formidable reputation in its own right as a live entity. Most frustratingly, the band's 1996 Justus album for the Rhino label did not sustain the considerable momentum inspired by its release. Nesmith again opted for a sabbatical from the band after a brief tour of the UK in support of the album, making Justus the final album involving all four original band members (percussionist David Thomas Jones succumbed to cardiac arrest on 29 February 2012). Nonetheless, in addition to being honored by Blitz Magazine in 2001 in the Blitz Awards as Best Band of the 20th Century, the Monkees' 1967 Headquarters album for Colgems Records and the aforementioned Justus album were in turn Blitz's picks for the two best albums of the century. Meanwhile, Tork's musical activities with the Monkees and Shoe Suede Blues continued well into the twenty-first century. Along the way, he added to his curriculum vitae as an online advice columnist and brought into the spotlight in that capacity his increasing interest in spiritual matters. Then in March 2009, Tork was diagnosed with adenoid cystic carcinoma, a form of cancer that impacts the head and neck areas. He underwent aggressive treatment, and was thankfully able to resume musical activities within weeks. In the interim, Blitz Magazine communicated with him regularly, encouraging him along the way with prayers and words of support. 'You've always been there for me, and always said nice things about me,' Tork said in an e-mail to Blitz at the time. 'I appreciate it and just wanted to thank you for it.' In reality, his legacy was thanks enough." - Michael McDowell, Blitz Magazine, Facebook, February 2019

Some notable quotes from that 1980 Blitz interview:

“When I recorded ‘Can You Dig It,’ the guitar solo originally ran about three or four minutes all by itself. We cut that back to a minute and a half. Bob Rafelson took a pair of scissors and snipped off the end of it. He didn’t ask me to shorten it, which I would have been glad to do. He just chopped it off. Son of a bitch! I have a lot of gripes about that, but that’s neither here nor there.” - Peter Tork, Blitz!, May/June 1980 (x)

Q: “There has been a lot of speculation as to your whereabouts between 1970 and 1976. How exactly did you spend those years? Some reports said you were victimized by the so-called California culture.” Peter Tork: “To the outside observer, I’m sure it looked as though I had succumbed to the extremities of a given culture. To me, I simply exhibited moderate good sense. Basically, I lived at a poverty level, scratching for odd jobs. I wore a beard, my hair was past my shoulders, and I was working in a restaurant, singing folk songs and waiting tables [see here and here]. I was playing piano and was in and out of various rock groups. I played lead guitar for a rock group called Osciolla [sic]. No records. I was in the bass section of the Fairfax Street Choir, a thirty-give member vocal group. I also fronted a group of my own and tried to make a demo, but it didn’t go anywhere. I had a job offer to come out here to Venice. I also worked as a high school teacher. The mass media has a tendency to distort. As long as capitalism remains the underpinning of society, what is good will always take a back seat to what will sell. General Motors isn’t concerned with making a quality automobile. Sears isn’t concerned with offering a quality television set. All that counts in a capitalistic society is selling. And to the mass media’s way of thinking, a picture of Peter Tork as a so-called ‘burned-out hippie’ with a beard and long hair implies a hopeless case who can’t lift his hand to his face to get his razor up and who has no interest except in stealing to support his drug habit. If that’s what sells, they’ll print that. The truth of the matter is, my primary concern was and is self-realization in a social setting.” - Peter Tork, Blitz!, May/June 1980 (x)

[ancientfaces]

RIP Lisa Marie Presley (1968 - 2023). The only child of Elvis, the 'King of Rock n' Roll', died yesterday. Like her famous father and his mother, Lisa Marie Presley died suddenly of cardiac arrest. Lisa was born into a life in the spotlight and the tabloids could just never get enough. From her inheritance of her father's wealth at age 25, her philanthropy, to her four marriages including to the 'King of Pop' Michael Jackson, every aspect of her life was reviewed and reported. The mother of four, Lisa followed her father's footsteps writing and recording music. Tragically, she retired from the business when her only son committed suicide. It seems like it wasn't THAT long ago when 'young Elvis' with his energy, enthusiasm, talent, and gyrations just had a child and it was all the news. We remember Lisa Maria Presley to tell her story and share our memories of her life with her biography.

[eldibujista]

Drawnist's Fantasy World's lore. Entry 006: A crude and lonely curse.

When you first get it you can't notice, you go on with your life without knowing you've started to rot on the inside, after a few days something starts to feel off, you become more irritable and isolate from others.

You can't identify what's wrong, you don't ask for help either, your heart stops working, you feel a hollow in your chest, a deep melancholy, while the colour leaves your skin, your hair and your eyes.

The blood begins to clot being inert in the veins, turning the entire cardiac system into a kind of tangle of rigid and lifeless wires.

You feel empty, you no longer need to eat or sleep, your mind falls into a void where every last drop of happiness is drained from your being, never to be seen again, your emotions start to fade, you stop being able to feel happiness, surprise, enthusiasm, love.

You become more aggressive and your body colder. At this point, there hasn't been a heartbeat in your chest for a long time.

At last, the exterior changes to match the interior of your body and soul, almost grayish white skin, long and thin fingers, empty eyes, which to look is like looking deep down into the abyss, your icy breath is the only sign of life that your body still emits.

In the end you become less than a shadow of what you once were.

Originally created on 4th of January, 2023

Last edited on 4th of January, 2023

[biographygen]

Casey Webb Heart Attack: The Untold Truth

Casey Webb is a renowned television host and food enthusiast who gained fame through his appearance on the popular travel and food show, "Man v. Food." Recently there have been rumors circulating about Casey suffering from a heart attack, leaving fans concerned about his well-being. That's why we are here with this article. Read further to know whether he has gone through a heart attack or not.

Who is Casey Webb?

Casey is a charismatic host who stepped into the spotlight as the new face of Man v. Food in 2017. He took over the reins from the original host, Adam Richman, and quickly made his mark with his own unique style and infectious personality. Casey's passion for food and his willingness to take on culinary challenges have made him a beloved figure among food lovers and fans of the show.

Casey Webb Wiki

Real NameCasey WebbNicknameMr. WebGenderMaleProfessionActor, Producer, Internet Star, ComedianHeight 6 feet 2 inches Weight 90 KGNet Worth$3 MillionEye ColorLight BrownHair ColorBrownDate of Birth27 April 1970Age54 YearsBirth PlaceBrooklyn, New York, United StatesZodiac sign/Sun signGeminiNationalityAmericanHometownBrooklyn, New York, United StatesSchoolRed Bank Regional High School.College/UniversityActor Training InstituteEducational QualificationGraduateReligionChristianityEthnicityWhiteFamous forHosting the Travel Channel series Man vs. Food.AddressBrooklyn, New York, United StatesHobbiesTraveling, Listening to MusicMarital StatusUnmarriedAffairs/GirlfriendsDJ Elle Dee (Ex) Graci CarliSexualityStraight

Casey Webb Heart Attack

Casey Webb has not gone through any heart attack and thus all such accusations are completely wrong. Reports of Casey's supposed heart attack began circulating on social media platforms and online gossip sites. The rumor claimed that Casey had suffered a severe cardiac event, leaving fans shocked and concerned about his health. However, these rumors are entirely false and hold no truth. Must Check Out: Is Casey Webb Still Alive? Find the Truth

How Did The Rumor Spread?

In the age of social media and instant information, rumors can spread like wildfire. The Casey Webb heart attack rumor is a prime example of how misinformation can quickly gain traction. It all started with a speculative post on a little-known blog, which was then shared on various social media platforms. As the rumor gained momentum, more people began sharing it, adding fuel to the fire. Before long, the rumor had taken on a life of its own, causing distress among Casey's fans and followers.

How is Casey Webb's Health Now?

Despite the false rumors circulating about his health, Casey is doing well. He recently took to his official social media accounts to address the heart attack rumor directly and reassure his fans. In a heartfelt message, Casey expressed gratitude for the concern shown by his followers but confirmed that he is in good health and has not experienced any heart-related issues. He encouraged his fans to focus on the positive and continue supporting him in his culinary adventures. Check Next: What Happened to Casey Webb From Man Versus Food?

Where is Casey Webb Now?

Now that we know Casey Webb is in good health, you might be wondering what he's been up to lately. Casey continues to travel across the United States, exploring the country's diverse food scene and taking on exciting culinary challenges. He has been spotted filming new episodes of "Man v. Food," much to the delight of his fans. Whether he's tackling enormous burgers, spicy wings, or gigantic desserts, Casey's infectious enthusiasm and love for food shine through in every episode.

The Bottom Line

In conclusion, the rumors of Casey Webb suffering a heart attack are entirely baseless. Casey is in good health and continues to entertain and inspire food enthusiasts around the world. It's important to approach online rumors with skepticism and seek reliable sources for accurate information. As fans, let's support Casey in his culinary adventures and eagerly await new episodes of "Man v. Food." Remember, the best way to enjoy Casey's journey is by savoring the delicious moments he brings to our screens. FAQ Q1. How old is Casey Webb?Ans. Casey Webb is 54 years old, born April 17, 1970.Q2. How much is Casey Webb's net worth?Ans. Casey's net worth is $3 million as of 2024.Q3. Why is Casey Webb famous?Ans. Casey Webb is an American actor and TV host. He is best known as the host of the television show Man vs. Food.Q4. Where does Casey live?Ans. Casey Webb is in San Diego, CA.Q5. What does Casey do now?Ans.  Casey Webb do now host of popular Travel Channel series, Man v. Food. Also Read: - Gypsy Rose Blanchard Biography Height Age Family Boyfriend and Net Worth - Jennifer Lawrence Biography, Net Worth, Early Life, Career, Boyfriend - Julia Michaels Biography, Net Worth, Early Life, Career, Boyfriend - Dua Lipa Biography, Net Worth, Career, Boyfriend and Family Read the full article

[news365timesindia]

[ad_1] Dolphin (PG) College, Chandigarh, welcomed its new batch of students with a culturally rich and colorful Freshers Party, "Shangri La 2024." The event was a grand celebration of diversity, with students from various states of India and International Students from Nepal showcasing their heritage through traditional dances and musical performances. Dressed in vibrant ethnic attire, they added a festive sparkle to the occasion.Dr. Sharad Satya Chauhan (DGP, Punjab), Er. Vibhav Mittal, Vice Chairman join students in releasing balloons at Shangri La 2024, celebrating a festive start for the new batch at Dolphin PG CollegeDr. Sharad Satya Chauhan, (DGP) Punjab graced the event as Chief Guest and was accompanied by his son Master Ojasya Chauhan. Dr. Chauhan commended the students for their enthusiasm and talent, urging them to focus on both academic and personal growth during their time at Dolphin College. He emphasized that dedication and hard work are key to success, and applauded the management, faculty, and students for organizing such a successful event. He also praised the colleges commitment to providing quality education in the field of allied health sciences.Er. Vibhav Mittal, Vice Chairman of the college, encouraged students to take full advantage of the resources and opportunities available to them. He emphasized the importance of balancing academic pursuits with extracurricular activities for overall development.Principal Dr. Manu highlighted the colleges high academic standards and welcoming environment, which attract students from over 10 Indian states as well as from Nepal. She stressed the significance of fostering not only academic excellence but also cultural unity and leadership among students.Dean Academics, Dr. Malkit Singh, urged the students to prioritize their studies, assuring them of the faculty's unwavering support throughout their academic journey.A highlight of the evening was the selection of Mr. and Ms. Fresher. After a series of exciting rounds and interviews, Elangbam Paling Singh from the Department of Physiotherapy was crowned Mr. Fresher, while Ms. Sukhleen Kaur from the Department of Cardiac Care Technology earned the title of Ms. Fresher. Both were applauded for their confidence and charisma."Shangri La 2024" was a true celebration of cultural diversity and talent, marking the beginning of a promising academic journey for Dolphin College's new batch of students.About Dolphin (PG) College Dolphin (PG) College, Chandigarh, is a premier institution offering a wide range of undergraduate and postgraduate programs in life sciences and allied health sciences. The College is affiliated to Punjabi University, Patiala and is known for its academic excellence, the college provides a student-centered learning environment, state-of-the-art facilities, and industry-relevant curriculum. With a strong emphasis on research and holistic development, Dolphin College is dedicated to shaping future leaders in the fields of agriculture, healthcare, and environmental sciences. The college attracts students from across India and neighboring countries like Nepal for its high-quality education.For more details, visit Dolphin PG College. [ad_2] Source link

[news365times]

[ad_1] Dolphin (PG) College, Chandigarh, welcomed its new batch of students with a culturally rich and colorful Freshers Party, "Shangri La 2024." The event was a grand celebration of diversity, with students from various states of India and International Students from Nepal showcasing their heritage through traditional dances and musical performances. Dressed in vibrant ethnic attire, they added a festive sparkle to the occasion.Dr. Sharad Satya Chauhan (DGP, Punjab), Er. Vibhav Mittal, Vice Chairman join students in releasing balloons at Shangri La 2024, celebrating a festive start for the new batch at Dolphin PG CollegeDr. Sharad Satya Chauhan, (DGP) Punjab graced the event as Chief Guest and was accompanied by his son Master Ojasya Chauhan. Dr. Chauhan commended the students for their enthusiasm and talent, urging them to focus on both academic and personal growth during their time at Dolphin College. He emphasized that dedication and hard work are key to success, and applauded the management, faculty, and students for organizing such a successful event. He also praised the colleges commitment to providing quality education in the field of allied health sciences.Er. Vibhav Mittal, Vice Chairman of the college, encouraged students to take full advantage of the resources and opportunities available to them. He emphasized the importance of balancing academic pursuits with extracurricular activities for overall development.Principal Dr. Manu highlighted the colleges high academic standards and welcoming environment, which attract students from over 10 Indian states as well as from Nepal. She stressed the significance of fostering not only academic excellence but also cultural unity and leadership among students.Dean Academics, Dr. Malkit Singh, urged the students to prioritize their studies, assuring them of the faculty's unwavering support throughout their academic journey.A highlight of the evening was the selection of Mr. and Ms. Fresher. After a series of exciting rounds and interviews, Elangbam Paling Singh from the Department of Physiotherapy was crowned Mr. Fresher, while Ms. Sukhleen Kaur from the Department of Cardiac Care Technology earned the title of Ms. Fresher. Both were applauded for their confidence and charisma."Shangri La 2024" was a true celebration of cultural diversity and talent, marking the beginning of a promising academic journey for Dolphin College's new batch of students.About Dolphin (PG) College Dolphin (PG) College, Chandigarh, is a premier institution offering a wide range of undergraduate and postgraduate programs in life sciences and allied health sciences. The College is affiliated to Punjabi University, Patiala and is known for its academic excellence, the college provides a student-centered learning environment, state-of-the-art facilities, and industry-relevant curriculum. With a strong emphasis on research and holistic development, Dolphin College is dedicated to shaping future leaders in the fields of agriculture, healthcare, and environmental sciences. The college attracts students from across India and neighboring countries like Nepal for its high-quality education.For more details, visit Dolphin PG College. [ad_2] Source link