#MB White Coffee

[sxgarhan]

⊹ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚ Now I'm shaking drinking all this coffee (˶˃⤙˂˶)

[rose-tea]

ִ ׁ ִ ׁ days of candy

ִ ִ ִ ִ ִ ׁ ׁ ִ ׁ ִ

ִ ִ ִ ִ ִ ׁ ׁ

[iz-vera]

⏇　🩰　┈　mitsuri moodboard

[millie360]

[riaki]

— the warmth of a home | satoru gojo x reader jjk0 setting w/ coparent teen megumi

wc: 2.2k cw: petnames, established relationship, ur megs mother figure, reader is referred to as they but u wear perfume not proofread!!

this was just meant to be a weekday blurb like the last but oops it turned into a full fic mb

"i'm home!"

your voice rings out as you step through the threshold of your shared home, a gentle evening breeze ushering you in as you slip your shoes off sore feet and hang your well-worn jacket up, scented flowery perfume and sweet smelling cologne mingling on the thick fabric.

it's cold out; autumn is setting in, the crisp leaves that signal the arrival of fall collecting outside your doorstep as the late weeks of october wave goodbye and usher in the first days of november, followed by a drop in temperature and thin ice that begins to crust over any wet surface.

the small hallway leads into a wide, open living room, with a corner of couches and a worn tv that hasn't screened anything in ages. there's a fuzzy throw blanket hanging over one of the couch arms, knit with patterns of cute little dogs, stuck with tongues lolling happily from their mouths. a potted plant that's clinging on to a thin thread of life you can barely sustain on the days you remember to water it sits on the coffee table, bits of soil speckling the edge of the warm clay pot as the lights overhead cast a soft glow upon the ceramic. there's a pair of black socks strewn across the tabletop- you make a mental note to give their owner a good scolding and maybe a physical touch fast for the night once you find him.

you set your bag down by the door, stepping onto the wooden floor as your feet make soft thumping noises when you cross. two pairs of keen ears pick the sounds up almost instantly, coupled by two, equally loud voices that compete for your attention.

"ah, they're back! hope they brought takeou— ow! megumi, don't yank so hard." satoru's voice comes from the bathroom, a little ways down the hall decorated with polaroids and doodles. it's promptly followed by a curt, "sorry." the words bring a smile to your face; that irritatingly singsong voice you love so much coupled by megumi's aloof and quiet.

you make your way to the door, a warm glow flooding out of the crack before you push it open wide enough to peek your head, catching a glimpse of the scene unfolding on the other side as you stifle a laugh.

satoru is propped on the edge of the bathtub, hunched to make his frame somewhat smaller and the top of his head accessible to megumi as he faces the wall, while the latter fastens a section of loosely-trimmed cream bandages over satoru's eyes, all too tight that it begins to cut into his smooth skin. there's a grimace twisting his soft lips (you know they are from constantly running a thumb over them) pink glistening from moisture under the soft daisy yellow light. megumi's hands are far too tight as they grip the strip of bandage, forcing satoru's tufts of white hair into a disheveled mess.

at the sound of the door creaking on its hinges, both of them whip their heads toward the door, megumi all but ditching the task before him as satoru hooks the bandages beneath his chin with one finger, expression softening into that lovesick grin that makes your heart pump faster against your ribcage.

"welcome back." megumi hums, straightening up to brush past you. a silent agreement passes between the two of you— you'll finish tying the bandages for satoru, while he gets some homework done.

"thank you, megs." you laughed, giving him a quick ruffle of his smooth dark hair as he bumps shoulders with you, slipping past and walking into the hallway with a disgruntled mumble at the touch. "go easy on this old man next time. i don't want to deal. with a child for the whole night," you called, stifling a laugh when you see the exaggerated hurt expression that finds its way onto satoru's face almost instantly.

a distant sound of acknowledgement from megumi finds your ears as you turn around to face your very mature and handsome husband, who's still hunched over the edge of the bathtub with his arms folded over his chest and a faux crossed expression on his face. you take a few steps towards him before you sit down on the tub beside him, legs turned out to make use of the space as you turn your head to get a good look. there's a pout on his lips, not giving an ounce of thought towards being subtle in a way that's so very him. his sparkling blue irises peek out from beneath his long lashes, the color of the clouds in the sky that slowly begin to paint pale under the shine of the setting sun.

"hey, satoru. what's got you looking so down?" you chuckled, scooting closer on the cold rim of the tub to reach out. your fingers card through his hair and you almost swoon at the way he leans into your touch, like a cat chasing for chin scratches. you push the mess of hair from his eyes to press a lazy, slow kiss to his forehead, bumping into his side. as soon as your fingers touch the first square inch of hair on his head, his arms find their way around your waist, pulling you close like he's done so many times before.

"you're so mean to me, pretty. did you call me old?" he whines, the corner of his lips downturned as he buried his head in your shoulder for a moment before pulling away to stare down at you imposingly. you only sighed, stroking his hair as you watch his lips curve up in a poorly smothered grin, cocky and smug in a way that he knows makes you want to kiss away until only a little awestruck gape remains in its wake.

"of course not, 'toru. you know i love you too much to curse you with wrinkles." you hummed, taking in the sweet look on his face dusted rosy as he looks at you.

"i should hope so," he grins, and in one swift motion, you find yourself tucked flush to his chest on his lap, one of his hands snaking up your arm to pull you close as he catches your lips with his in a sweet motion he's been anticipating since the last clingy smooch this morning. he tastes like the candy you hid away in the cabinet in an attempt to stop his sweet tooth from plowing through the time before his next dentist appointment, and you add it to your mental list of things to reprimand him for.

for now, though, you let yourself indulge- let your hand trail up his chest and around his neck, feeling his pulse beneath your thumb as you lean into him with a sigh of contentment. he's warm, familiar, and stable in a way that you've only ever found comfort in, and he's fully aware of the effect he has on you when he pulls away, puckered lips pecking your cheeks with unrestrained affection as you laugh and bat him away.

he soaks in the moment for a bit until he speaks again, with a heave and a sigh that makes him seem far too worn out for a 27 year old. "help me out, love." he sighs, motioning toward the loose bandage around his neck that threatens to slip any moment. your hands are already moving when he speaks, taking up the bunch of fabric in your fingers to push his hair back and fasten it around his eyes. you mourn a little over the loss of the sight-- his pretty blue eyes tucked away behind a wall of necessity, hidden away from the world. your shoulders sink a little and you melt into him some as you finish tying the knot, making sure it's securely fasten before you move your hands away.

you're caught mid-motion, though- his hand shoots up to grab your wrist gently, thumb gently prodding at your pulse as he tilts his head into your other hand.

"'toru? what are you doing?" you asked softly, staring down at him from your vantage point in his lap.

"baby," he starts slowly, other hand snaking around your waist to press against the small of your back, warm and steady as he presses you close to him. "do you love me?"

you're surprised. most of the time, he never broaches the area of emotions out of the blue—it's an area of vulnerability he's still not quite ready for; not quite healed enough to approach. and you understand, so you never push him to talk.

"of course i do. that's why i'm here." you reminded him, gaze snagging on the way his teeth catch his lip and chew nervously. a fleeting thought enters your mind, and for a second you almost think he might put up infinity.

it's quiet for a moment, then, and you take the moment to size him up, appraising as the light from the window above filters in, framing his face in some sort of angelic light. he really looks ethereal, you think to yourself.

then, the silence is broken.

"enough to buy me takeout?" he offers sheepishly, all apprehension vanishing as that easy smile creeps over his lips again and he clasps your hands in his, lithe and calloused fingers enveloping yours to dot your wrist and knuckles with little kisses.

you blinked, before rolling your eyes, laughing that sweet laugh he only ever teased to hear from you as you wriggled free from his grasp, sliding off his lap and standing up again before he could trap you in a hug again.

"no, satoru. but i'll make dinner with megumi and save some for when you get back. does that sound good?" you offered, looking down at him expectantly.

he smiles at that, swinging his legs over the tub to stand as well. he's tall, almost comically so— looking quite out of place under the fluorescent lights amidst pastel shampoo bottles. your eyes drift to the sink, where two bristly toothbrushes are tucked in the same cup, and you smile.

"anything made by you is great, sweetheart." he says with a cheeky grin, reveling in the soft flush that stains your face as he walks closer, cupping your face in one hand and leaning down to kiss the side of your head affectionately. he catches a whiff of your perfume, and his smirk only widens. before he can do further, though, someone clears their throat from the other side of the door, and you turn around to catch sight of a head of spiky black hair, an unamused look on his face as megumi eyes the two of you.

"why are you still here?" he sniffs, peering up at satoru with a frown. the latter just chuckles, reaching over to aggressively mess with his hair, leaving it even more disheveled and out of place as an angry protest leaves megumi. satoru skirts just out of reach of an irritated jab, throwing what you think is some sort of charming wink from beneath his white bandages at the two of you.

"seeya, love. hold the fort down while i'm gone." he calls, already halfway to the door. his steps echo in your ear as you just smile, opening the bathroom door and stepping into the hallway as megumi slides up to your side, a sour expression tugging at his lips. "don't let the rascal upset our haven." said rascal makes a face.

"be safe," you said softly, hoping he caught your unspoken wishes in those two words. judging by the way he paused at the door before hurrying back to your side to pepper you with four departing kisses— one on either cheek, the tip of your flushed nose, and on your lips-- he took the caution to heart.

"you're so cute when you worry, love." he chuckled, his laugh like a spring of rejuvenating running water that filled you with life. he took a moment to take you in again— hair slightly messy from the wind whistling outside, the tips of your ears a pleasant red and a look in your eyes he could only describe as adoration.

"don't worry. i'll always come back to you."

and with that, he was gone.

not for long, though. eventually, he'd return home to a lone kitchen light flicked on, spreading warmth onto the table below. he'd come home to the same heart-warming scene he had so many times before— slipping his bandages down his face, taking his jacket off to spread it from one of your shoulders to megumi's— you'd fallen asleep together with the window open, a chilling evening breeze filtering in as the pages of megumi's homework fluttered in the wind, frustrated scribbles smudged against the crinkled paper underneath his elbows as he slept. you were by his side, too— cozy and exhausted, soft little breaths leaving your lips every now and then. times like this brought him a simple joy; the happiness of having a home to come back to, a family with handmade dinner gone cold on the table as it waited for him, a trio who could support one another and provide the love that each person had been missing.

there would never be anything he'd want more than this simplicity.

he ends up dumping megumi on the couch before carrying you bridal style towards your shared bedroom.

extra: u and megumi cook pasta tgt :3

my (riaki) stuff. don’t repost and/or plagiarize!

[nrc-asteryn-crew]

"Oohh- I see, interestin'. That's totes valid, TBH."

He nodded, taking another sip. He listened to Casimir's question, and shrugged.

"Oh. Uhm. Well- It's sorta less so 'electronics' and more so like 'things-that-can-potentially-be-very-dangerous-if-handled-with-malicious-intent'... or somethin'- I dunno. I got bored of that ages ago though- like lemme make food to eat I swear I'm not gunna poison it or hit anyone with a hot pan, damn."

He responded, rolling his eyes in annoyance. It was more of an inconvenience than anything, but it was irritating having to ask for some of what other people were making all the time for no apparent reason to them. Especially since they were all anti-social as hell and had no idea or didn't care who he was. So he didn't usually.

- Mace (🔌)

For the second afternoon in a row that week, Mace found himself walking down the same corridor of the Diasomnia dorms. He would have come by sooner, having finished downloading all of the stuff onto the drive way earlier, but he got a bit distracted doing... a few different things. He hoped Casimir didn't mind the wait too much. It would be a shame if he did.

Approaching Casimir's door, he knocked the same way he did last time, before stepping back.

"Yello~! Guess who it is~!"

He called out, combing his fingers through his hair to neaten it up a bit while he waited for the door to open. Not that he was trying to make it look extra neat. But more... trying to make it seem like he didn't just crawl out of bed a few hours ago, just to only make it in time to attend the last class of the day. Because he definitely didn't. Definitely.

- Mace (🔌) [ @nrc-asteryn-crew ]

( ooc// i cannot the way he starts monologuing in his thoughts then gets more sentimental STOPP I CANT DO THIS I LOVE HIM SM ACTUALLY if he was in game i WOULD whale /pos silly guy if anything ur inability to control ur UM is just making mace more interested in you (i actually love that it does that tho its so silly) anyway I FINALLY MADE THE GOSH DARN BLOG . well sorta i more so just had to revamp the pinned post that was already there but YEA!!! :D )

*the knocking on the door startled Casimir from his thoughts that, today, mainly consisted of some nonsense on a homework page. He relaxed though, at the recognition of the knocking pattern and voice and stood up*

*He took a deep breath to compose himself and adopt his typical, grandiose persona before opening the door*

Greetings to you, Vassal Mace! It is a pleasure to see that you have decided to return to my lair on this day.

I assume that your being here means you have successfully completed your quest?

*Casimir did his best to contain his excitement, tapping his fingers together in what, to most appearances, could be read as excitement or a gesture of evil plotting - the perfect gesture for one of his status, now that he thought about it.*

(✨HELL YEAH! banger that u have a blog now! I think I'm already following ur acct from my main but yaur!!! Also thank u SM that means. A lot actually bc I'm just here like "yeah this silly guy who exists in my brain is gonna get thrown from a window" and I really appreciate when other ppl like my silly guys dhhdsjdj. I'm so excited to be able to learn more Abt ur guys now tho too whehehehe >:3¢. Probably should've done this from the tags. Anyways.)

[delicrieux]

—𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭, ch.3: sweet dreams, chicago

pairing—carmy berzatto x f!reader   genre—drama, romance, age gap, boss/employee relationship warnings for this chapter—anxiety, (+18) masturbation, mb one (1) allusion to a blowjob, swearing, excessive use of cigarettes  word count—3.6k

detailed instructions on how to fuck up your life in 30 seconds

author’s note: tremendously down bad, lonely, and socially inept? not talking abt u LOSER im talking abt carmen. my lil meow meow 

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | eyvcte masterlist | < back. next >

important! some of the dialogue scenes are written as a script & dialogues that overlap are marked in [] <3  

tell them

not white, gray – the exact color of cigarette ash, the red ember a reflected streak of sunlight; these walls box him in, and it’s always a surprise that space can feel so vast and so confining all at once. the plastic chair he sits on is unforgiving on his back. his foot sounds a pattern on the tiled floor to impair the silence.

he’s aware of it, of everything: his pursed lips, trembling lashes, quick blinks, slight sniffle, flitting irises, the light coat of sweat forming by his hairline. the taunt flex of his muscles; twitch of fingers that have nothing to grasp onto but each other. the tapping. pulsing in his jaw and temple. the tapping.

tell them

he tries to stare ahead, keep straight – it’s not expected of him, but he wishes he could do it. wishes he could face the silhouette sat across, too close and too far.

“well?” she prompts – a prim woman with a kind face sunken from all the miseries she had collected over the years, “how are you, carmen?”

a sharp exhale through the nose, like a humorless snort; corner of his lips pinching into a grimace that could resemble a smile, if one was generous enough, “how am i?” he repeats, “how am i?”

tell them

tell them

tell them your

“chef?”

storage closet. he keeps his hand firmly on the handle and breathes, jaw tense, head bent, illuminated in the shitty buzzing lights. the containers are organized – did it himself. methodically set cans with no spaces between them, all in neat rows. one’s a bit too close to the edge, sticking out. someone had moved it. he rubs his chin before pushing it back.

his hand falls from the handle and settles on his hip as he sighs, looks up, feels a rush of air tinted with spices and the overwhelming noise of the kitchen pierce the coveted silence of his hiding place when the door cracks open. she pokes her head in and he doesn’t look, can’t look, can’t sleep, can’t–

“you good?”

kindness is always startling, even when it’s the standard. her words hold no weight of deep inquiry, only a shallow question mark. it’s enough. he lives on scraps. “yeah, uh, thanks,” his tips his chin in her direction and his eyes flit over the crown of her head. can’t look for long;  he’ll search for thank you and love you despite knowing they’re covered.

“i was just, uh, was just, needed to check,” he vaguely motions behind himself, and the knot in his throat tightens slightly, “something, s-so…” maybe she decides to take him out of his misery. maybe he’s the only one that notices he’s drowning.

“family’s up.” she informs him, offers a small smile that he thinks is pity. can’t be sure.

“yeah, yeah, o-okay, i’ll, uh, i’ll, i’ll join you in a,” the hasty spill of his words slows, quiets. he inhales, brows crinkled and eyes focused on the new streaks on the floor he’ll have to clean, “i’ll join you in a minute.”

“i’ll save you a seat.” not a proposition mentioned aimlessly and left to rot in his subconscious, but a statement. and she’ll always save a seat for him, because he’ll always be late, and in the rare occasions that he won’t, he’ll be too early. she’ll save him a seat by the table and pat the couch next to herself when the staff’ll huddle to watch a Bulls game; she’ll save a slot for him on her free day to come into his office and help sort through papers; she’ll save her hand from others so that he could hold it and she’ll save a pair lace panties the color of her eyes that’ll tear through the flower pattern because he’ll be too rough and because he’ll like the way they look on her.

she’ll save a cup that’ll shatter during one of their arguments, glue it back together. the cracks will show, and it’ll be blotched, but he’ll still use it, even if the edge’ll be chipped and he’ll cut his lip and she’ll be long gone by then.

he’s mostly himself when he joins everyone, if he even knows what that entails. tina’s explaining form to marcus, and sydney’s on her phone, and richie and neil are discussing something with too many theatrics, and the rest of the staff shares idle conversation punctuated by comfortable silence. there’s an empty spot for him, food set in a plastic container and cutlery placed trimly – must’ve been her. too even, she’s borderline about these things. he appreciates them, because he’s like that, too.

a smile eases the tension from his shoulders, if a bit. he pulls the chair back, takes a seat, and her head ticks to the side to acknowledge him. no big speech, no welcome back or you good again, just a slight curiosity that makes her teeth pull on her lip. he dares a glance that doesn’t linger.

"verdict?” he asks the table, feeling the familiar flutter of anxiety squeeze his throat.

sydney: ‘s good. real good richie: too fucking fancy [god] this the type of shit they serve up in yee-whole-fucking-new-of-the-fucking-york? her: wouldn’t expect you to recognize shit from food [fuck you] since your mouth is always full of it richie: oh ha ha [cousin] look at us folks [cousin] we got a fucking comedian with us tina: shut it [so/rry] both of you. not by the table richie: not by the fucking table, kid [fuck you] marcus: i like it

it’s kinda funny, it’s kinda familiar, it’s kinda comforting. he glances at her again, sees her holding up her knife like a sword aimed at richie on the other side of the table. they mimic one another – in movement, in tone, in smiles that are careful not to display too much. friends. carmen watched this happen in his peripherals, sometimes through the haze of cigarette smoke. observed the pointed jabs and nudges that were harder each time as if they were competing who could knock the other off of their feet first. stupid, amusing, the nascence of a friendship.

whatever. it’s not that, it’s just, just that carmen’s the way he is and someone could roll their eyes at him and kill and sydney, well, he got along with sydney instantly – she came at a confusing fucking time, a breath of fresh air, and really, for a while, he only had her to help him navigate the clusterfuck of a dynamic of his brother’s staff. she was new, he was new, and it was natural they stuck together to survive the nuclear winter of a chicagoan kitchen. till he was approved as one of them, and she was, too, but, and it’s nothing, it’s dumb, fucking idiotic, it’s like he’s six again all of a sudden and no one wants to play ball with him in the fucking playground.

he’s not even left out, and he still feels like he’s somehow forbidden to join, even if he doesn’t want to, even if he doesn’t know what to say. as if he’d break some sacred law and inspire a drastic butterfly affect that would ripple into something abhorrent. the other shoe. there’s no first one and he’s already waiting for the drop.

“cousin,” richie calls, “cousin, she’s trying to fucking murk me. pretty sure that violates some sorta fine print.”

“better sleep with one eye open in that case.” carmy mumbles, a faint smile pulling on the corner of his lips as he watches the exchange briefly before he returns to the food. melts in his mouth. holds a sweet, syrupy tang, and, fuck, this is noma, this has fucking noma written all over it, even the cinnamon zest blended with orange peel.

no noma on her resume; dad must’ve taught her, then. how to blend and cook all of this shit to make the chicken taste like butter. probably needed to scour the whole kitchen for leftover ingredients, open a few rusted drawers for pipettes to measure lemon drops. stay up again prepping. filming. not sleeping. don’t look.

needlessly complicated and missing some parsley. coincidentally, they ran out of it this morning.

he looks at her because she’s not looking at him and for a moment he takes in her profile – the slope of her nose and the dip leading to her cupid’s bow. “‘s good.” he says after a short pause, and as soon as she turns in his direction he’s back to his food. the taste, this time, is compounded by added discomfort, “where’d you learn this from, anyway? there are recipe?”

“my dad. sorta,” she explains, “he’s also a chef. and he used to make it for me when i came to visit, soooooo, since it was my first time cooking family ‘n all…i thought, why not? y’know? just to upset richie.”

“heard that, kid.”

he snorts, leaning back into his chair, head dipped and container held in hand. glances at her from under his lashes, and maybe direct eye contact is not as scary when he wants her to be looking back. that small smile of his is pulls on his lips again, “‘s good.” he repeats.

“you like it?” her voice can be soft, and so can her features.

“i like it,” he admits, “thank you, chef.”

she smiles and it’s like a fucking firework.

he tries not to look too hard, scared what he might find there. metronome. dull, almost, like the beating of his heart in his chest, yet it pulses through him, from the back of his head all the way to his feet. the tapping.

tell them

he rubs his faces with his hands, leans forward, as if the words are physically trying to get out. doesn’t want to say it; doesn’t want to admit that he can’t dress for the weather and that he’s wearing a gray woolen sweater which blends into these walls, that he blends in, that he’s invisible.

“i’ve, uh,” pinches the bridge of his nose, wanes the upcoming headache – too many cigarettes and not enough sleep, “i’ve been going through somethin’.”

like her pictures on a late monday night fresh out of the shower. the phone light catches damp hair falling in ringlets. the towel is still slung around his shoulders – white, clean, he’s done his laundry, it’s a fucking miracle. it was a notification that distracted him mid-way putting on a t-shirt, was like a beacon in the dark on his bedside table. bare feet padded to grasp it and here he stands, gaping like a fucking idiot with nothing but boxers on and cold water dripping down his back.

wasn’t supposed to look. made a promise, swore it in the mirror staring into clear blue eyes that held nothing. wasn’t his intention, either, it just happened. everything seems to just happen to him. she just seem to text him at 1 in the morning the recipe from a few days back, and he just seems to find her profile again because he just wants to look. no further reason. she just seems to follow him and he just seems to pretend not to notice because he’s not very good at this, he’s not really good at anything.

and there she is, confined in a little electronic device held in his hand, looking at the camera, looking at him, and he’s not really sure what to do with himself. text back, likely, but he can’t think of a response – thank you? thanks? thumbs up emoji? chef emoji? just to mix it up a bit. the mattress dips when he sits on the bed. where the fuck are his cigarettes?

never too far, and the lighter isn’t, either, so he stands, and his phone is still in his hand like the thing is fucking glued to it, and he cracks the window open to let the summer night in. chicago doesn’t sleep, and neither does she, it seems, but he doesn’t, either, and when his teeth have something to bite onto he feels like he found an anchor.

thank you and love you are objectively interesting detonators, but there are other rare gems. where she’s smiling. look taken off-guard and never by her personally, always by someone else: hugging a bottle in the midnight new york vista, nursing a to-go cappuccino by the bodega too early in the morning, holding up a plastic puka shell necklace in the backdrop of a souvenir shop somewhere in yucatan. hugging her mother wearing a tracksuit while the former’s poised in a neat blazer. they look similar. carmen looks like his mother, too.

she’s more approachable when her eyes crinkle and cheeks apple and lips stretch to reveal a crescent line in the corner. pretty. real pretty. too pretty. maybe that’s why he doesn’t know what to say. maybe she doesn’t expect him to say anything. maybe that’s why she sent the message.

‘s not fair. he knows too much about her. knows her dad’s a renowned chef and her mother’s a business exec with a penthouse in brooklyn; knows she gets her tattoos in-house, on the couch, from some low-key junkie-looking artist that always wears a beanie;  knows she worked in an upscale restaurant in wallstreet. chef whites, neat, trimmed, fitting – nothing he can offer in his fucked joint. fuck is she doing in chicago, anyway? spent last summer backpacking across europe with a distinctly new york-looking art school dropouts that wore the latest sneakers and tiffany necklaces. rich kids, rich kid, what she gets now was likely her daily allowance.

all of that just because he’s noisy. just because he’s curious. just because she’s pretty and he’s too scared to actually talk to her.

shouldn’t talk to her about anything anyway. too awkward – can hardly form a coherent sentence without ripping his hair out in the first place. he’s her boss, she’d think he’s a fucking weirdo if she knew how much he had gathered about her already. just from looking. does sydney know? does richie know? that would be fucked. oddly insulting, even. but since carmen hasn’t heard richie calling her a spoiled brat yet, he supposes it’s safe to assume this information hasn’t reached him yet.

parasocial as shit. he feels on the verge of a panic attack by the way his heart is hammering in his chest. maybe it’s the 5th cigarette. maybe it’s because he’s been sleep deprived. maybe it’s because looking at her makes him lonely and this is fucked and just put the fucking phone down, carmen.

she's really hot, though. but he can’t say so, not out loud. not right now. not here. not in front of the bed, where the mattress sags when he sits, or in the window, where the wind rattles the glass ringing of common sense.

‘thanks for the recipe’ is a good start, ‘cool tats by the way’ is definitely a line that has crossed his mind, but can’t text that, either. too personal. too easy. too close. fuck did he look at them anyway, too busy staring at her tits. fuck.

she’d think he’s a creep because somehow, in the divine comedy of his life, he’d let it slip somehow, because he’s stupid. because thank you and love you slap at him on odd hours during the day. because he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

feels like he’s a teen again and a girl from school sent him her homework to copy. only the girl in a hot rich kid from nyc that works in his restaurant and is so far out of his league that she’s in a different fucking orbit.

the mattress dips again. he closes his eyes, exhales slowly, rubs his face with his free hand. can’t stop thinking. can’t stop looking. staring. wanting. get a fucking hold of yourself. doesn’t want to. too tired. too fucked. too alone.

she’s so pretty.

so smart.

so fucking pretty.

what is he doing? what the fuck is he doing?

he tries to swallow, but it feels like there's sand in his throat. can't think straight, every corner leads to her anyway in a comical gotcha moment. can't go back. can't go forward. can't do anything but sit here, stare at the phone, think the last threads of his fizzling mind will conceive a reply.

say something. say something.

she's so fucking pretty and his dick is so fucking hard.

inhales again, this time slowly. feels the first tremors of an erection ignored, the pulse in his neck, in his wrists.

his heart is pounding and he wants her to look at him, wants to look at her, wants to feel her touch him, wants to show her how much he wants her.

"fucking christ," he can hear the breathless crack in his voice. feel it, taste it.

his face burns and his hair falls over his forehead, already drying. there's sweat on his brow and a lump in his throat from the steady rise of panic, anticipation, desperation, whateverthefuck. the blood in his veins pounds through his chest – he can feel the vibration in his bones, and god, god god god, he’s so fucking horny.

can't move. can't breathe. can't think. can't stand being alone. can't stand the silence. can't stand not doing anything and can’t stand being like this because he’s not supposed to. not allowed, breach of contract, jesus, who does this shit in their spare time? a lot of people, probably, but carmen wouldn’t know.

"fuck."

he wants to close his eyes because she’s so cold on the screen but so warm in his mind. can’t do that. can't stop palming dick over his boxers, either – wants to pull them down, but that would mean looking at himself, so he stares at her picture instead.

he feels like a teenager again, vaguely wants to throw up. can't believe how hard he is. he's not supposed to be like this. this isn't going to end well.

he knows he's gonna fuck this up because he's already fucking it up. can't stop staring at her. can't stop touching himself. can't stop thinking about what she'd do if she knew he was sitting here ready to jerk off to her.

she'd probably freak the fuck out, and she'd have every right to. that doesn't stop that wandering hand of his from dipping below the elastic band anyway.

his breath scratches at his throat, stuck there as he feels his hand brush something warm. glances down, sees his middle finger pressing against the swollen tip. looks back at the phone, sees her smile, the hint of her teeth; his cock twitches at the sight of her like some deranged pavlovian response. his fingers curl around his shaft and go down in a nice, long stroke.

"fuck me," he hisses. eyes squeeze shut and hips push forward and head rolls back to release a small groan.

it's a slow slide of a rough palm, with just enough pressure to cause shivers. he thinks of her lips wrapped around his him. the way her tongue would tease him. the way her hair would tickle his thighs.

"so pretty," he breathes, but the words are lost in the rhythm of his hand, "fuck, sorry."

fingers and palm slide over the sensitive head, each pass adding more pressure until his hips buck and it feels like someone punched him in the gut and he sucks in a breath, the sound coming out more like a moan; squeeze, tighter this time, and he groans louder, caught somewhere between pain and pleasure. teeth clamp down on his lower lip and all the oxygen in his lungs leaves with that.

the hand with the hand pierced by a kitchen knife pumps faster, coating the creases and veins in warm, sticky pre-cum leaking from the tip and leaving a stain on his boxers. he's breathing heavily, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm that matches the throbbing of his cock.

he's so close already. so close he feels like he might actually lose his mind if he doesn't come soon.

"hm, fuck," he breathes out, eyes squeezing shut and fist tightening around the shaft as his hips jerk forward to meet the movement.

everything is swimming and spinning in the liquid dark around him, all the sensations coiled up into one chaotic bundle that's threatening to overwhelm him.

"yes," can't be his voice, can it? too raw, too desperate, too loud.

fist tightens even more and the throbbing is too much. feels like something is trying to get out of his body, like it's going to burst through his skin.

"oh fuck. oh fuck, oh fuck—"

everything is happening at once. everything is mounting to a small cry of her name.

he comes. coughs and huffs, head tipping back and hand still pumping. there's a low groan coming from his chest that sounds like it originated from some other person entirely.

then, it stills. his back hits the bed and he tries to gulp down air that stutters down his throat, the phone bouncing on the mattress beside him. the motions ripple in his spine, in tensed muscles that’ve gone lax. calm. outside the window, a siren howls first, then a dog.

he’s spent. feels good. cold air bites skin coated in sweat, like ice melting in the bed of a warm palm. “fuck.”

but the reality of the situation rips through the haze just as quick, and ignited by a sudden fucking unbearable anger, he grabs his phone and throws it across the room, “FUCK.”

ch.4: normal people

tags <3 @rexorangecouny - @astridyoo15 - @elliesbabygirl - @fortisfilia - @diorrfairy - @frequentnosebleeder - @eddiemunsonreader 

more notes: sum fun lil gemmie gems for my narrative lovin girlies in chat  1. timeline is worky asf, things flowing in an out perception - imagine it like moving frames of the show 2. carmy says “’s good” whilst he admires her silently - is he referring to her or the food? 3. who text their boss at 1am? rich kid explain 4. the swearing increases the more he’s distressed 5. major virgin alert, can u tell? 6. this is the only chapter so far where ive used caps lock

[accio-victuuri]

year-end sugar rush round up 🍭

it’s time for the last round up of 2023. we have made it through another year filled with clownery and love for the boys! as per my tradition in posting year end candy recaps, i am releasing early 31st cause i am gonna be busy with nye shows. i hope you enjoy looking through all the happiness the final month gave us. have a great new year’s eve everyone!!!

if you wanna look through the past months or year/s then go to this link. 🔗

i’m adding a little exercise to this post tho and ask you, what are your top 5 cpns of the year? please comment or reblog with your answers!

• The tattoo rumor resurfaces ( new clue? )

• Bowing to the crowd as thank you

• 13 fake rumors - from the vault

• potential wedding photoshoot and “superman can’t fly”

• not really cpn but a media account on tiktok posted a video of xz’s appearance in MBS. they used the tags related to xiao zhan for more views, but they included one that has wang yibo’s name on it. 😂 i know that they might have just chosen an already existing tag with xz and wyb name on it and forgot to edit it. but it’s still a funny incident.

• 12/3 ZSWW Fake Rumor ( pre singapore timeline )

• 12/4 fake story contribution ( wolf mates for life )

• Washing candies only make it sweeter

• An example of bjyx being an open secret ( sort of )

photos were going around of a yibo vcr played in a chanel annual meeting in china. we were all happy to see wyb lookin so good and fresh faced, but what we noticed is his top.

the style of top he was wearing (p1) is very similar to that of GG’s (p2) at the airport when he was flying back to Beijing. it’s probably because the weather is getting colder so they wear this instead of their usual esspensive t-shirts?

the point is it’s kind of like the same-style in a close timeframe from each other. so it seems like their tastes in casual clothes are still very close.

• 12/7/23 Candies ( GQ MOTY + XZS Singapore vlog)

• The GQ MOTY hat was a gift from XZ 🤍 // Part two : I have to say that this has become a favorite one among cpns and has become notorious since so/os from both sides are trying so desperately to wash it. those on xz’s side using rocco’s 227 kadian to dispute everything even if it was their fault they were called out while xz was busy working his ass of shooting LOCH. this is just a reminder that the celebrity is not equal to their fans. whatever drama both sides do to each other, has nothing to do with us and does not reflect the boy’s relationship. 🤍

• Coffee from Singapore CPN ☕️

• All the things that happened Monday Morning of 12/11 which includes the magazine covers, pants, xz going online for a moment etc.

• xiao zhan’s snowman ⛄️

• The fact that WYB was wearing the bone necklace tho hidden during his BAZAAR photoshoot. The ones in focus were of course Chanel, but those who pay attention will see it. A proof of how special it is. Imagine WYB being bare faced and only had stuff that he actually needs, and he decided to keep the necklace on.

• Not exactly CPN but more of a similarity i love to see. cause Shandong Satellite TV decided to air BAH right after SBMS! We love to see their works not only be shown in online platforms, but also in satellite TV stations.

• Candy Throwback : Alexander Mcqueen shoes, Nike off white & WYB’s missing mole

• 12/15 double attack of stock photos from XZS and YBO. The black and white theme! Anytime these two decide to give us some update is a happy day!

• Du Hua describes WYB’s looks as that of a rabbit

• Tencent Video All Star Night CPNs 💛

• 12/19 they both went back to Beijing. ZZ was in Shanghai to film and WYB also filmed CCTV stage. The thing is WYB started filming at 2:00 AM and then he was back at the airport to leave at 10:00 AM. They both arrived to BJ so close to each other. CPN is they tried really hard to be back home & be together that day ♥️

• throwback cpn : wyb prepares xz’s room in hengdian (2021)

• their studios posting so close together for winter solstice! tho wyb’s is a preview for his new single, ybo still greeted people.

• Winter solstice CPNs ( WYB’s song preview and GG’s photoset )

• Clowning about a possible secret message from a 9key code

• “Everything is lovely” similarity from xzs caption and yibo’s new single and more clues like a possible connection to an lrlg post & what looks like a rabbit and character for ox.

• black and yellow similarity!

• 12/26 WYB EP cpn post ( teaser lyrics )

• FAE : Free and Easy sweater

• Same style of editing between XZS and YBO who we all know are dating ☺️☺️☺️

• 12/28 candies

• Marie Claire x Xiao Zhan issue 🍭🍬

• Yibo’s new singles : Bystander & Everything is Lovely

• LRLG 12/30 translation and short commentaries

• LRLG responding to cpf comments

• Wang Wang Xianbei 😂😂😂😂

• Similar clothes and Participating in the same single for a nye song

That’s all for now, See you next year!!!! ❤️💛💚

[blacklegsanjiii]

ooh angsty reveal idea for warlord!Sanji!!! mb the warlords are all somehow captured (idk how but lets imagine) and theyre boutta be executed for betraying the world gov and when Sanji hears he freaks and insists they go help. strawhats agree cause of jinbei asking plus knowing boa and mihawk. are vry suprised when Sanji interrupts the execution by diving flaming-feet-first into the podium screaming to not touch his parents

ofc they rescue the warlords and coup de burst the hell outta there and all of the crew are furiosly interrogating sanji + warlords on what the hell just happened. after all the initial chaos is over warlords ask what sanjis been up 2 since they last heard. with every new self sactificial act theyre sideeying him a little more. he did not mention any of this

side note but even if sanji wasnt raised by kuma surely he at least hung around him a bit. prbly is upset at finding out his whole backstory during egghead and wants to help

First Kuma: yeah they were around each other but it's definitely not the Kuma Bonney called "Daddy" until Egghead. But when Sanji and Jinbei find out they help, as does the crew. Of course. Sanji and Jinbei are both upset so they give him the denden numbers for the other parents and send them off.

Secondly:

OMFG YES! Sanji gets up first thing in the morning and the newscoo is waiting for him to buy the paper. He does and sees the headline that four former warlords are going to be executed so the first thing he does is ring Perona on her transponder and ask if she wants to help. Then he goes and wakes Jinbei up with and shows him the headline once they're in the galley with coffee. Perona of course agreed to help so now it's just a matter of convincing the crew and getting to the execution sight. Neither of which should be too hard but then again, this is going to be like Ace's execution.

So when the crew is let in for breakfast Jinbei asks Luffy who agrees. They helped save Ace after all so he can return the favor. Luffy even calls up Ace and when they approach the meeting spot Ace and some White Beard commanders are there and so is Perona, who promptly gives Zoro shit.

"So what's the plan?" Vista asks.

"We grab them and go." Luffy says simply and Marco groans because Ace nods in agreement with his baby brother.

"Is he always like this?" Perona asks Sanji.

"Yeah, you should have heard him on the way to Dressrosa." Sanji answers and Perona sighs.

"Any better ideas?" She asks and when no answer is given they go make their way there. The warlords are brought onto the execution platform and seem a little to calm to be on their way to death. Suddenly Sanji is gone and Perona is flying with her ghosts spearing through marines. Luffy and Ace rocket forward as Luffy cheers and Ace yells at him to wait.

And then Sanji is kicking a marine off the platform with his fire feet as Sengoku and Kizaru look at him. Crocodile looks smugly up at them as Doffy is laughing his ass off and yelling about "the kid showing up" and now Sanji is fighting two admirals in front of all his parents.

And once the warlords are free? Mihawk grabs the first sword he sees and goes to help Sanji while yelling at Doflamingo to string the marines up. Crocodile and Boa are excellent distractions. Very excellent as they draw attention away from Mihawk and Sanji. Bitch Boy Akainu is upset as he tries to join the fray but Luffy and Ace have a particular grudge with him that they're happy to take care of now.

"When the hell did you learn to set yourself on fire?!" Mihawk demands.

"Enies Lobby!" Sanji calls back.

"We will be having a proper conversation about this later!" Mihawk warns him over their fighting with admirals.

"Can we focus on this first, please?" Sanji yells as he dodges Sengoku.

"If we must." Mihawk answers.

Once they do get on the Sunny Jinbei tells all the warlords to hold on because the ship can fly for about a minute.

"Oh fucking hell. First our kid and now the fucking ship?" Crocodile demands as the warlords grab hold of whatever part of the ship is closest as the coup de burst happens. Once they're sailing away and a good distance Chopper says he wants to look over all the devil fruit users, Jinbei, Sanji, and Zoro. Boa asks why Mihawk doesn't need a check up and Chopper just looks at Mihawk and then at Boa and says he can't get sick from seastone and unless he's like Sanji he should be fine. Jinbei is nodding solemnly and Sanji is so fucking pale, like thanks for ratting him at you fucking assholes; or it might be the blood loss because he is bleeding from the head and has cuts from Kizaru all over.

"I guess there's no better time for that talk than now." Mihawk says to Sanji. "Set your legs on fire again, I don't think the others caught that bit."

"I saw them in Dressrosa, it's not my fault they put us all separately." Doflamingo laughs.

"You should have called and told us, that seems important enough!" Boa points at Jinbei.

"We were escaping Tottoland and on our way to Wano. Sanji and Luffy were both very injured." Jinbei argues.

"What was going on with that anyway?" Perona asks Sanji. "Because I didn't even get to see you at Thriller Bark and I had to spend two years with that idiot." She points at Zoro.

"Oi!" Zoro yells.

"Do you know how directionally challenged he is? Did you kick him in the head too many times? How is he the first mate?" Perona demands.

"Hell if I know, I'm the cook!" Sanji defends themself.

"I like how they didn't object to kicking Roronoa in the head too many times." Crocodile says to Mihawk.

"I'm still more intrigued by Sanji setting themself on fire." Mihawk says.

"My poor baby! You should go first, look at all this blood!" Boa wails as she grabs Sanji.

"Would you believe me if I said it wasn't the worst?" Sanji asks as he tries to shove her off.

"Oo, tell me more." Perona grins as she floats beside them.

"Now you've done it. Out with it, I haven't seen you since Alabasta." Crocodile gestures with his hook.

"Nevermind this is the worst I've been injured!" Sanji yells as Boa squeezes them tighter.

"Didn't you break your back on Drum island?" Usopp asks.

"Yeah, he has plate holding his spine together which is why Chopper was so upset that God guy shot him with lightning like five times." Nami says.

"Oh! In Wano that bird guy sent you through like four buildings!" Luffy says.

"Didn't you snap your leg in Wano as well?" Robin asks as Mihawk sighs and Doffy laughs.

"Oh my gosh, you're so dumb. No wonder you made such a bad zombie." Perona huffs as Mihawk pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Do you regret getting them off a rock yet?" Doflamingo laughs.

"I'm wondering how I let Zeff talk me into being a parent and then parenting with you four." Mihawk answers.

"Shouldn't have brought them to Warlord meetings then." Boa says sticking her tongue out and squeezing Sanji tighter.

"Truly this is all your fault." Crocodile agrees and Doffy nods while laughing.

"Boa, please don't break Sanji's back...again, apparently." Jinbei says while rubbing his face. Boa sticks her tongue out at him as she follows Chopper to the infirmary with their child.

"How did he even break his back?" Mihawk asks.

"He kicked me and Nami out of the way of an avalanche." Luffy shrugs.

"I wanna hear about the lightning." Doffy smiles.

"Um, some guy on a sky island was going to use it on me and Usopp." Nami says weakly.

"Didn't Cook-bro also have a building fall on him while you were in his body?" Franky asks Nami who pales considerably as Mihawk lets out a long sigh.

[tortoisebore]

IDK IF YOU’RE STILL DOING THIS BUT!

How would wolfstar act during Barbenheimer? Who wants to see what? How are they dressed?

EEEEEEE i am ALWAYS doing these ALWAYS i love them so much 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶 ((i have some unanswered ones in my inbox i promise im getting to don’t worry 💕💓💞💖))

okay first off we’ve established that they’re both insufferable wanna-be film critics & everyone hates them for it. so keep that in the background. they’re annoying as hell.

so they get wind of oppenheimer first. the teaser plays at a midnight screening of “nope” ((sirius is a jordan peele stan)) and it’s just a bunch of fire and black and white shots of cillian murphy so they’re both like “🙂 huh okay fun.” but then christopher nolan’s name is on the screen and sirius is nearly flying out of his seat bc he’s potentially the world’s biggest chris nolan stan. and he’s hitting remus on the arm and he’s all “👹 FUC K! !!!” and remus is like “oh good another nolan movie that’ll be fun love that” and enduring sirius’ semi-quiet fangirl moment but then he catches on to what the trailer is actually about and “oppenheimer” comes on the end card and then he’s ALSO having a freakout moment & he’s all “oh fuck 😧😧😧 oh fuck it’s oppenheimer 🫢 oh fuck 😵 oh fuck cheistopher nolan’s doing oppenheimer 😵‍💫😵‍ oh god.”

so for the next couple of months they’re both telling all their friends “yes so we’ve heard the inside scoop about nolan’s new film, very ambitious, word on the street is that it’s all practical & the b*mb isn’t CGI” and “did u know that christopher nolan himself created an atom b*mb on set to 1/36th scale” like they’re just making shit up from these random reddit threads & illegitimate news sites and everyone’s like “yeah great okay sure no one cares 🙄”

but then fall rolls around & remus overhears someone on the actual street talking on the phone about a barbie movie. and he does a little google and there it is, greta gerwig is doing a barbie movie with margot robbie, and holy shit sirius is going to freak ((he’s also a greta gerwig stan, they both are, obvi. sirius’ favorite of hers is ladybird and remus’ fav is little women, also obvi)). remus makes the mistake of sending sirius the article ab the movie in a text instead of in person where he could have done some damage control and he immediately gets a facetime where sirius just screeches at him for a good three and a half minutes before a single coherent word comes out of his mouth. so yes, he’s very excited for barbie, and remus is excited for greta gerwig to make everyone cry over a doll.

so they know about the movies separately and then the barbenheimer phenomenon takes over, and they become aware that not only are both movies coming out in july, they’re coming out on the same fucking day. and when they find this out they’re at home on separate sides of the apartment and marlene texts in the gc like “are we doing barbenheimer weekend orrrr” and they both take a minute to catch up but then they’re meeting in the living room like WHATTTTT😵😵😵😵😵😵

they plan a whole weekend. on saturday morning remus gets up early and makes waffles in the heart-shaped waffle maker sirius found months ago specifically for barbenheimer weekend breakfast and even puts red food coloring in the batter so they’re pink hearts with whipped cream and cherries to top it all off. and they do black coffee to drink because it gives oppenheimer vibes & they couldn’t think of anything else appetizing to go with it in a breakfast scenario.

they’re going comfort over style for the premiere bc they’re ab to be at the theater for like seven or eight hours, but sirius is wearing a hot pink malibu barbie baby tee for the occasion. remus is ✨not✨ wearing hot pink bc he’s a ✨warm autumn✨ & it’s ✨not✨ his color but he made sure sirius took one of his sweaters bc he always gets cold at movies and complains he’s freezing until remus gives him his own & that is “not happening this time, sirius, get your own fucking sweater.”

they’re doing barbie first. they got the tickets the second they went on sale, two seats in the middle of the row ⅔ of the way back into the theater bc that’s where sound designers sit for screenings & it’s a perfect view. they get their giant sodas and a big popcorn to share, plus some m&ms they snuck in to do an m&m/popcorn mix ((god tier movie snack fr)). they’re enraptured from the very first scene. giant barbie on a desert background. barbieland. the dream house. ryan gosling. all of it. it’s a masterpiece. they both cry at the end & they’re caught off guard bc wtf this wasn’t supposed to be about mothers??? what the hell???

they have a forty-five minute break between movies where they recover in the lobby for a while & refill the popcorn, but they’re getting one water bottle to share this time bc bathroom breaks are not an option & oppenheimer has like a three and a half hour fucking runtime. like they’re doing bathroom breaks twenty seconds before the movie starts bc missing part of this film would actually destroy them psychologically

they do it in IMAX, obvi, ⅔ back in the middle of the row. it’s an out of body experience. they don’t speak or move the entire time. they don’t speak or move while the credits play. they leave the theater in silence. they go home and sit on the couch and stare at the wall and remus goes “we……we should have seen barbie last.” and then they both look at each other like 😐👀? and then they’re getting up and rushing back to the theater and seeing barbie again

the next day they’re getting together with all their friends to do barbenheimer day 2 and trying not to spoil it but they’ve already talked to each other about the individual movies too much, like they laid in bed and talked about the fucking movies like idiots for multiple hours, so they need new feedback to talk over & correct everyone’s wrong opinions

and like obviously everyone hates them

[suomeen]

Chapter 3: The Longest Journey

We departed on December 20. Took the bus at 2 pm and went through 3 of Ukraine’s major cities to pick up other passengers and head for Poland. The trip started out well but soon things began to go south. The bus itself was alright. However, the site boasted outlets for your devices and free wi-fi. Which is true technically. Except the outlets were the type basically nobody uses in Europe and the wi-fi… there was a whole of 250 MB, all for the taking for your 16-hour ride. The seats were fine but the human body is not really made to sit in one place for so long. My knees were soon hurting and I barely had any sleep.

The trip itself was a bit of a mess too. Flixbus clearly doesn’t want to pay for extra buses for emergency situations so when another one of their buses broke, our driver had to pick up its passengers. Then another company’s bus broke and we took some of its passengers too. Sitting in a bus for hours is bad enough, but at least we weren’t the ones standing in the aisle, wet from the rain. We felt sorry for those people but it was very frustrating for everyone. This incident set us back a few hours. Then there was the border crossing.

Poland was startlingly unwelcoming. I didn’t expect much. I knew we were way past the “Poland is our best buddy” early war honeymoon illusions but this encounter still took me by surprise. We arrived at about 5 am but had to wait for a few hours in a line of other buses before finally proceeding to the border control. At first, they had the few men on the bus go there, making sure they had the right to leave the country. Then it was the rest of us. There were about 5 Poles at the checkpoint and they were not happy to see us. I honestly don’t know what our people did in these 2 years that they hated us so much. First a blond middle-aged woman came up to the bus and began to shout at us in Polish to get out in groups. I understood most of it, but I shouldn’t be expected to. Then we went to show our documents to a few dudes in booths who asked us where we were going and why. After that, a tall handsome young man began to rummage in some people’s bags. He took his time dismantling one woman’s bag, which mostly contained children’s clothes. Her little son, about 3, wanted to help and I don’t like children much, but he was adorable and made all of us passengers smile. Not the Poles though, they didn’t budge. None of them spoke Ukrainian or Russian, or maybe didn’t want to. I wonder who pissed them off so much. We were tired and stressed out as it was and this felt like we were some sort of criminals, not women and children fleeing from a war.

I managed to book a trip directly to the Warsaw airport so, despite the delay, we still had 2 hours to get on the plane. I was just glad we took a plane because 16 hours on a bus wrecked me and I can’t imagine 40, which is what most other people had to endure. We got the world’s most expensive coffees and muffins and took off. The flight was delayed but only by about 10 minutes so it was fine. The Finair plane was kinda small but the flight was very smooth. The weather was rainy but up there, above the clouds, the sun shone brightly and I felt my heart healed a little.

Finland greeted us with blinding whiteness and I felt a strange comfort when we finally arrived. But there was still a good chunk of road ahead.

Normally, most people in our situation would just go to Helsinki and apply for asylum at the closest police department. But this way you get assigned to any place in the country they see fit. Our plan was different. Since we had a friend there and we wanted to be close to her, we were to go to the large city nearest to her and apply there. She even asked at the reception centre and was told they would be expecting us and we would probably get an apartment that was prepared for moving in.

So first, we had to take a city train to get to Tikkurila. Then we had to take the intercity train to a city where we would later be living. But instead of going there, we were to stay at our friend’s so we then had to take another train that got us closer to her where she could pick us up.

I had no internet connection of my own and got to rely on whatever hubs were available. There were none at the station and I was getting a bit panicky that I would miss the train. I had to bother a few Finns for directions, the first of many. They were very friendly and tried to help the best they could. As I got into the train, I had trouble opening my ticket on the ancient tablet I had but the conductor was nice and patient with me and let me take my time as he went on to check the tickets of other passengers.

The intercity train was great. Fast and smooth, it was the best part of the trip. The cars were clean and comfortable. Everything was designed to make the trip enjoyable for everyone. The Finns looked relaxed and many took off their shoes for the ride and stretched their legs languishly.

We also found ourselves in the children car. The idea of such a car would probably sound a little annoying to me, but I was happy to be there. There were many parents with small children and a part of the space was free of seats with some stuff for them to play in. Small kids were running around back and forth in the aisle. Some fell a few times but nobody seemed to worry, kids or parents. They just got up and continued on their way. I sat next to a Finnish mother with a tiny baby. I don’t care about babies that much but I couldn’t stop looking at her. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone so gentle and tender and loving as she was with her child. The whole car had such a soothing atmosphere of peace and joy. It later turned out that we took the wrong car and when the rightful owners of these seats came, we had to move to another. But I’m glad we made that mistake so I could experience this.

This train was also slightly late. Not by much, but enough that we were risking to miss the transfer. I’m glad I decided to seek help from the lovely young woman staff, so we just barely made it to our final train, which was a small local train, far less glamorous. After bothering some more Finns, we finally got help from a nice older man and made sure we were going the right way. After another 40 minutes, we finally stepped off the train and into the dark, immediately greeted by our friend and her husband.

It wasn’t the longest trip of my life but it sure felt like it and was certainly the most intense and nerve-wrecking. Honestly, I don’t even know how I survived the journey, let alone got it all right, though a lot of it was thanks to the lovely Finnish people.

We did not immediately go to their place. First, we went to the nearby building to have our photos taken for the police. Your document photos never look good but having them taken after a 28-hour journey makes them extra ugly. Though I suppose fitting for a refugee application. Finally, after a short drive, we arrived at the house we would spend the next week at.

[marigolds-cafe]

“Agent Marigold, At your service, how can be of help?”

Name : ▉▉▉▉▉▉

Code Name : Agent Marigold.

Place of birth: [REDACTED], England, Whereabouts unknown.

Nationality: British.

Date of birth: April 12, 19XX

Age : 25

Height: 5’7

Gender : Genderqueer

Pronouns : They/It/None/Neos

Eyes: Green

Hair: Brown, White streaks.

Dominant hand: Left

Status: Unknown

Flavor profile: Sweet

Favorite Color: Yellow/Orange

Zodiac: Aries

MB Type: to be added

Weapon of choice: Poison

——————

This is the ask blog for Agent Marigold!

Marigold is an OC. They run a small, very legitimate cafe, that’s definitely not an agency front. Rumour has it they used to work for Zoraxis, specialising in poisons, but that’s just a rumour. Wouldn’t recommend drinking their herbal tea though.

Prices are hung on one wall :

Tea (Non-Herbal) - $2.50

Tea (Herbal) - $2.30

Coffee - $3

Hot Chocolate - $2.50

Any Food Items - $1.80 - $2.50

——————

RULES AND INFO :

This blog is run by @depression-soup .

CONTENT WARNINGS : Fourth Wall Breaks, Existential/Philosophical Talk on occasion, Eye Imagery, Poison.

Orange Text means Marigold is speaking.

Purple Text means The Author (( aka, me )) is speaking.

Italic Text means The Annotator is talking. It’s name holds no significance, it’s just the narrator of this story.

No NSFW.

Shipping is allowed, just please message me beforehand.

No bigotry, anything that makes me uncomfortable will be deleted.

Magic Anons are allowed.

Friendly reminder the author is a minor and queer, and the character is queer too.

Marigold : They/It/None/Neos

The Annotator : It/None

<The Author> : Any Except She/Her

[nochi-quinn]

campaign 3 episode 52: it's bad were running

(that's not bad grammar it's a PUN)

omar!

omar going after travis' coffee

oh they were serious about no sponsors, I thought sam was gonna jump in at the end

split party SPLIT PARTY

critrole scent collection when

…don't let sam do it tho

imogen turns into a snake

OH SHE GOT BACKLASHED

just dunk chet in a snowbank it's fine

chetney pockopea the snow nomad

snowmad

laura's raspy voice is still attractive, sorry laura

something something the last of us joke

"this is getting weird"

pls contact my boy

(they will not contact my boy)

so just completely incommunicado

I don't know why ashley's quiet little "still dogshit" made me giggle but it did

time to make a snow pit

NOT A SHOEBILL creepy muppet motherfuckers

"they're cute in the way sun bears are cute"

[aabria voice] hate it. hate to have learned it.

chetney what

that's flora, travis, fauna is animals

dislike

too big, disapprove

white eyes blue lizard

DISLIKE

oh no letters

Shield of Help

disLIKE

it has BREATH WEAPONS

it has BIG BREATH WEAPONS

"MY NOSE CAN'T SEE"

panic zaps

"baby is tired!"

It's Bad We're Running

(It's Bad, Were Running)

and then the cave collapsed in on them

CHET DON'T YOU PULL A MOLLY

"I've seen this mistake made before" YEAH

FRIENDS? PLS BE FRIENDS

GUNSHOT

WHOMST

FRIENDS!!!!

pause game for hugs

slayer's take style!!

I like aabria's braids, the blue is cute

not the ✌️ selfie

AEROMATON

AEORMATON IN A TRENCHCOAT

THEY/THEM AEORMATON IN A TRENCHCOAT

help I'm attracted

GIVE ART

GNOME AABRIA

PELOR GNOME

I LOVE HER

COMFY PALADIN

I have had them for fifteen seconds and if anything happens to them

sam why

"roll better!"

"why didn't I fight for that last campaign?" "it's the only thing you didn't fight for!"

"I would not assume all automatons know each other, that would be bad" "we have a handshake"

"can I be laerryn?"

"shut up, CERRIT"

deanna!!

I wasn't looking at the subs, I assume that's the spelling

"I'm going to fly - " "- away"

YEAHHH

it IS deanna

AABRIA CHETNEY EX??

aabria just divorcing every player

erika's gonna kiss every player, aabria's gonna divorce them

fcg

FRIDA

it's an ACRONYM

frida tripleclass??

that's too many, put some back

travis just CRACKING

we're not talking about the flesh tongue

"THIS IS UNFAIR"

gay

"I've never heard him so quiet. Thank you."

zombie ex??

DUSTIL

"I was brutally killed! I got better."

midsommar festival

fearne

excuse??

aabria's coming for me again, I didn't consent to this

"he kept a promise"

"I have stew!" my roommate playing red dead online

laughter recordings?? that's either cute or creepy I can't tell yet

"I will never let you die :D"

"you're the main character"

"aabria is available on twitter"

"you should save it for someone who needs it" "I did" T_T

fcg no

them FACE COME OFF

oh, they're a scout

roll to remove face

natural 1: face comes off but it's not supposed to

I'm just picturing sevika from arcane and her knife arm

"no attention on me right now please"

"I. Am. Freaking. Out. 😎"

that's some forceful recruitment

"why do you believe a god gives you purpose?" fearne: YEAH

letters istg

frida

"we understand time"

"I don't put much credence in what a god wants"

again, not sure if the laughter thing is creepy or cute

laura eating at the table, just like old times

aabriaaaaaa

"I cursed him!"

not the tony stark hologram

"do I need to roll high or low? I need to tell my dice"

"we'll teach you how to use dice sometime"

"those aren't numbers" "that's my handwriting!"

that's an extremely cool way to do a psychic knock-knock, I'm disappointed there's no chance it was ever gonna work

wait when were people trying to give themselves electrical scars, stop that

No Thoughts Only Stew

"I have fallen a lot today" "it's because you're behind me and can't concentrate"

death ward jealously

I don't know how I feel about a mango bundt cake

mango frosting mb

"what's a mango?" [miguel roadtoeldorado voice] and where was he keeping it?!

there's a pocket plane inside his chest with a full michelin-starred kitchen

"you can dream?!" "you can bake!"

"I've never dreamt with anyone before" gay

"I am the night"

rogues are whatever

oh fuck that guy

the music is murdering me

"I left on bad terms" "why?" he murdered santa

PUPPY?

"why the kneecap?" "it was at eye level"

knees are the worst, I want them patched out in the next update

gonna fight aabria in a parking lot while sobbing uncontrollably

"it's been like ten years for me, I still got it"

"please don't make me roll for heart attack"

"bro…"

APPLEBEE'S SOLSTICE

roll for titties

"does he grow?" "ALL over" "that's not necessary"

"I smirk in monsterfucker"

"getting the five rows in tetris"

"we've had this fight a lot so you can be a part of it now"

"I have never believed in anything more than I believe in you" lays in the floor with my tenrose feelings

lays in the floor with my the silt verses feelings

SUNNY D

someone inverted imogen's y-axis dslkfjsl

"y'all just keep saying neW SHIT"

wuhoh

this feels ungood

[stargate voice] the giant aliens

I don't know if they're giant, it's just what pops in my head every time

"this is bad but I know you're not" oh I enjoy that a lot

oh calming down from tactile

"chet you got deep faked!"

PC ON GUEST VIOLENCE

werewolf vs robot, this summer on syfy

emotional damage :(

"I'll get him out the old-fashioned way!"

I zoned out for the whole last fifteen minutes

werebot? WEREBOT??

the way ashley yeeted mister and matt just caught him dslsldkfs

[portpebble]

[Image ID: two colorless drawings of Splinter and Donnie from Rise of the TMNT, done on a white background with black lineart and shadows. OP's watermark, "Solace" has been written on both.

Image 1: Takes place when the turtles were young, with Donnie being toddler aged and Splinter still having black hair. Both of them are sitting on the floor. Donnie is on the right, curled up on himself as he avoids looking at Splinter. Splinter is on the left, looking a bit tired or nervous as he holds a book titled, "Speech Therapy 4 Dummies". He is trying to guide Donnie to speak, smiling encouragingly as he says, "Can you say, 'please pass the peas?'". Donnie mumbles, "mb lb lb l... p." to which Splinter responds, "Eyes up here. 'Please...'" and Donnie just says, "uu."

Image 2: Takes place during the present day, with Donnie being a teenager now and Splinter's hair having turned white. Splinter is to the left, looking very tired as he holds a mug of coffee. Donnie is to the right, leaning over Splinter and talking to him intensely, "However, Flareon is the only fully evolved fire-type Pokemon that cannot learn solar beam". His words carrying over to the side, "...is something I would have said prior to the year 2016. In actuality, Generaton VII introduced several fire-types that can-- Hey, are you listening. Are you listening. Are you listening to me. Hey."

End ID.]

it's cause you're always on that damned spectrum

[mbsugar]

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[ceruleansoleil]

Archive moodboard for the ever lovely @taros