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[georgebanton]

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[swordsandholly]

Treat Me Gently (Because No One Else Will)

Ch 2: Johnny, Johnny, Johnny

Next | Masterlist | Ao3

Ghoap x Reader | MDNI 18+ | cw: low self image, oral (male & female receiving), fingering

“Merry Christmas, happy birthday.” You sigh, flopping your routine test results on your kotatsu table. It’s nearly time to get out the heating blanket - your favorite time of year. The leaves have just begun or change. A chill wind batters at your windows right on queue.

Simon sits spread out on your couch, practically covering the damn thing. His own results lay neatly beside yours for you to check. At this point you trust him enough that it’s more a formality than anything, but if you even thought about not looking Simon would put you on sex probation for sure.

He looks more tired than usual, you realize as you take him in. The circles under his eyes are darker than what he normally comes home with - more still-healing scratches and bruises litter his arms than you’re used to seeing.

“Fuckin’ beat.” He mutters, bending to give your papers a cursory glance. He reaches out after, grabbing onto the pocket of your hoodie to pull you into his lap.

“Poor thing.” You coo sympathetically, leaning to nip at his clipped ear. “How about I help with that?”

“’ave somethin’ in mind?” He murmurs - there’s a gravel in his voice that he only ever gets when he is truly exhausted. You slip down off his thigh and pull out one of the sitting cushions from under the table, kneeling on it between Simon’s spread legs. He cocks a brow, pretending not to know exactly what you’re doing despite the fact that you can already see him hardening in his sweatpants.

You run your open hands from his knees to hips, then back down, repeating the motion a few times. The material is soft under your palms. Warm, too, from Simon’s seemingly always extra heated skin. It’s always so lovely during the cool months to have a personal heater - it even comes with a nice cock. You have to stifle your snickering at the thought.

“Y’want somethin’?” Simon tilts his head, resting it on his hand with his elbow braced on the back of your rickety old couch.

You grin, attempting at a coy expression and achieving with absolutely no subtlety. Flirting was never your strong suit - you’re much better at jumping right in. You let your hands wander higher, over his hips, under his shirt to his waist. Coming back down, you hook your fingers in his waistband only to pause, glancing up at him for permission.

Simon nods, eyes alight but still obviously worn out. That’s okay, you don’t mind doing the work today. You take your time, running a hand over him through his pants while nudging at the waistband. Simon huffs in the way that tells you to get on with it. You hook both hands in, timing it with the lift of his hips to pull them halfway down his thighs. Really, you’d rather take them off entirely, but you know Simon’s limits. It’s easier said than done to pretend not to notice the large, ugly bruise on his hip.

You take his hardening length in your hand, giving it a few leisurely pumps. You like it better when he’s like this - pretty, untrimmed curls of blonde framing his equally pretty cock. Not that you’d tell him that. It’s his decision to do as he pleases.

You lick a long stripe from root to tip, earning a shuttering sigh as Simon’s eyes slip closed. You can’t help but hum happily as you take him into your mouth - that familiar, pleasant weight on your tongue. It’s impossible for you to take all of him, your hand working what you can’t fit in your mouth. That familiar mix of his musk and fresh scented soap hits your nose and your own eyes flutter shut as you take him.

Simon’s hand comes to rest on the back of your head. He doesn’t apply pressure, there’s no forcefulness, just a gentle hold. A steadiness that he somehow always manages to embody. His pants and quiet groans fuel you to take him as deep as you can. A low moan passes his lips when you lightly cup his balls, giving them a gentle tug. His hips begin to rock forward to meet your rhythm. Those desperate little sounds he makes pool in your core - each one their own reward.

“G-gonna-fuck-” Simon grunts a broken warning.

You take him as deep as possible as he cums down your throat. The hand on your head holds you in place as he works through it, hips twitching and brows furrowed. You lap at the tip, cleaning off the last beads of cum until he sucks in a harsh breath - the signal that it’s crossed into too much. Simon lazily pulls his bottoms back up. His shoulders relax finally, melting fully into the couch with his head still propped on his hand. You have a feeling that’s the only reason it’s still upright.

“Come up ‘ere.” He sighs, lids heavy and words slurred. The hand on your head relaxes, mimicking a lazy, petting motion over your hair.

You shake your head. “I’m fine.”

He frowns slightly. “Don’t want me t’return the favor?”

“I just wanted to welcome you back with something nice.” You smile. “Plus, you’re tired.”

“Who says I’m tired?”

“You. Literally, like, a few minutes ago.” You scoff, leaning your cheek on his thigh. Really, you’re perfectly content here - tracing light circles on his thigh and basking in the physical touch you’d been missing. Warm and comfortable. Your eyes slip shut, the hand stroking your hair eventually goes limp and falls to the wayside. A smile splits your lips at Simon’s light snoring.

He’s so predictable.

You grab your laptop, busying yourself with quietly typing and checking off a few emails while Simon snores away. He might have a little crick in his neck based on the way his head leans forward but you figure it’s better than waking him. You won’t be able to convince him to sleep twice. He’s probably slept in worse positions anyway.

There’s something that feels oddly right about moments like these - you, working at your little table between Simon’s legs while he naps on the couch. It’s where you’re supposed to be. Not always, both of you can come and go, and not necessarily directly touching, but within each others orbit. There’s something about knowing he’s there, even if you can’t see or feel him that makes you warm. Like a nice cup of tea during a heavy storm.

It’s safe here. It’s safe with Simon.

***

The groceries in your arms teeter, the buy one get one bottles of wine clink against each other in your reusable shopping back as you fight with your old deadbolt lock. You really should get your landlord to replace it, but he never answers his damn phone. At least he keeps the rent cheap in exchange for the shitty building quirks.

You check your voice mail - the physical one that you keep on hand only for Official Business - pressing the button on the answering machine as you begin putting away and organizing your groceries for the next couple weeks. You grabbed Simon some of those weird, rarely in stock, off-brand bon bons he loves. He says they have a better texture than the name brand. They just make your teeth hurt they’re so sweet. The voicemails filter through, nothing. Your agent wants to check up on your progress. Your water bill is due. You get a reminder for your appointment at the nail salon.

Your heart sinks when that honey-sweet voice of your lawyer drips through the phone.

“Hey, hun, so… unfortunately I have bad news.” Your blood curdles, back stiffening as you freeze in place. “It looks like we’re not gonna get the easy way out. Matthias officially contested - we’re going to have to go to court-“

You don’t catch the rest of her voicemail. It blurs into the background. Your ears ring, louder, louder, louder, louder.

Your hands shake around the bag of food still in them. If it weren’t already propped on the counter it would have fallen to the floor. It feels far away, as if there are miles between the things in front of you and yourself.

Your breath catches. It stings - every inhale and exhale more labored and shallow than the last. You’re choking on nothing. You can’t get any air - your vision turning to pinpricks. One hand braces you on the counter, the other resting on your throat as you lean, knees weak. You can’t see him. You can’t. The image of his face, dressed in one of his name brand suits, and his family glaring at you from the other side of the courtroom behind him twists in your mind. Hell beg you. He’ll beg and plead and promise things that won’t fix it - won’t fix you.

You’re hot, you’re suffocating. Each breath wheezes in and out.

In.

They hate you.

Out.

They have every right to hate you.

In.

You can’t see him.

In.

Them. Anyone. You can’t-

Please just breathe in!

Your phone dings - Simon’s assigned two toned chime.

S >> Dinner?

S >> I’ve got steak

The ringing in your ears clears to a low thrum. You take a long, deep breath finally. The numb tingling in your hands slowly dissipates. The shaking doesn’t. It takes far too long for you to get the texts written out.

>> I'll bring wine

You run your fingers through your hair, attempting to fix what doesn’t need fixing. You look the same as always, if not a little more hollow. It only feels like it needs to be fixed. You feel frazzled - thread bare. Too exposed and raw, standing out in the hallway that seems far too long in both directions.

Simon will fix it.

If he notices you’re more quiet than usual, he doesn’t say. He’s probably happy for the silence, if anything. Your chattering voice can’t be that pleasant - going on and on about absolutely nothing. Teasing and picking for no reason other than your own entertainment. How the hell does he put up with you?

The food helps. It fills you, makes you whole. The weight of it makes this moment real as you help Simon clean up. As usual, he washes and you dry. He laughs at some offhand joke you make - splashes you with water from the sink and you can’t help but shriek and laugh along with him. The wine makes your muscles lax and your mind slow. It’s good. This is good. This is fixing it. For now, at least.

That’s all you need: for now.

“How was Mexico?” You ask, sinking into your side of the couch. “Didn’t get to ask earlier…”

Simon sighs heavily. “Absolute shite… mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“’ad a good battle buddy.” He hums, staring out the window for a few beats, as if he forgot you were there. Those dark eyes soften as a gentle smile graces his lips - warm and molten.

You break out in an impish grin. “What’s that face?”

“What face?” Simon turns to meet your eye, returning to his usual stony neutrality.

You squint, eyes flicking between his, grin only growing wider. “Oh, you totally fucked.”

Simon splutters, stuttering over denials and dismissals - because that’s preposterous and completely out of character - before he finally submits. It never takes long, just an unending stare until he gets around to it. It’s not like you have room to judge.

You push your socked feet into the side of his thigh. “Sooooo, what’s their name?”

He looks off to the side, pretending to eye his wine glass. “Soap.”

You bark out a laugh, slapping your hand over your lips to stifle the sound. “Don’t tell me that’s their real name.”

“It’s Joh- I call him Johnny.” Simon twiddles his thumbs, shifting slightly. He’s mentioned a Johnny before, you think, albeit briefly. Said he was annoying but competent. There’s a new gleam in his eye, now. You see it. You’re not even sure if he knows yet, but you do. You’ve seen it time and time again.

You hum and swing a leg over his lap, settling your weight on his thighs. His hair is soft as you run your fingers over it - freshly buzzed and fuzzy.

“Tell me about your Johnny.”

“He’s not my Johnny.” Simon huffs.

You smile. He will be. There’s no one on this planet that can resist those big brown eyes and their pretty blonde lashes - even if nothing comes of it long term.

“Still. I’m curious.”

“‘e’s Scottish.” Simon shrugs. “‘e draws.”

“That’s all?”

“‘e’s funny.”

“With your sense of humor, I find that questionable.”

Simon chuckles, broad shoulders shaking slightly. He pulls gently on a piece of your hair, toying with it. “‘e ‘as pretty eyes…”

You cock your head like a bird observing some newly discovered, shiny treasure. This stage always interests you. The yearning, the fluttering. The crush of it all, so to speak. Sometimes you wish you had a way to quantify it - like a heart monitor or blood work or something. It looks good on Simon; the light flush of his cheeks and the slight quirk of his lips.

Matthias used to look at you like that. Your gut churns, throat constricting, and you swallow roughly.

“Good for you, Si.” You murmur.

He scoffs, shaking his head. “Shouldn’t be talkin’ about work so much. Makin’ me neglect the beautiful woman in my lap.”

“Beautiful?” You laugh, cheeks hot as you roll your eyes dramatically.

“Fit?”

“Meh.”

“Sexy?”

“Blah.”

“Stunnin’?”

You lightly smack his shoulder. “Shut up and fuck me, Riley.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He grins. A strong arm wraps around your waist, kneading at your ass before drifting lower, pressing against your sex through your leggings and underwear.

The name Johnny rings in your mind as Simon’s arms envelop you. When did it happen? Where? Their living quarters? Out in some godforsaken tent in the middle of nowhere? That sounds more like Simon. All tense and wound up, heavy hands and low groans. It’s probably wrong to imagine a stranger like that. You wonder what he looks like. Could be anything, Simon isn’t exactly picky (he’s with you, after all). Does Johnny know how Simon feels? Does he feel the same? How would he know? You’ve never been sure how people figure that out. You’ve always just waited to be told and gone along with it - is that how it works for everyone? Surely not. That can’t be how it works for Simon. He’d never just go along - never let someone else just roll with it either. He demands enthusiasm, in his own way.

“Y’with me?” Simon rumbles in your ear. You hadn’t realized his hand stopped moving.

“O-oh, yeah. Just got a little lost in my head.” You murmur.

He hums. “Everythin’ okay?”

“Yeah, just… y’know how I get.”

“You’ve been spacey t’night.” So he did notice. Simon presses his cheek to yours. “Somethin’ goin’ on?”

You chew your lip. You’re a terrible liar - you can’t say no outright. You don’t need to dump on Simon, though. Your problems are minuscule compared to even his day to day ones. An inconvenience at most. Besides, that’s not what he has you here for. He’s not here to listen.

Instead you repeat, quieter but with a smile, “Just fuck me. Please.”

Simon moves slower now, as if you somehow became more fragile in a few mere seconds. He lays you back on the couch, kissing down your body while pushing your shirt up and out of the way. You squeeze your eyes shut, forcing your mind to stay in the moment. You’re in Simon’s apartment, on his couch, with his grounding weight above you. It’s the usual song and dance - gentle movements with breaks for permission. Sometimes you think the checks are more for him; for his own piece of mind in continuing. You still revel in the care behind them.

Simon eats pussy like he’s tasting some sort of delicacy - slow, deliberate, savoring. Long strokes of his tongue between your folds and light, sucking kisses on your clit. He wraps a strong arm around your thigh to hold you still as you begin to squirm, rolling your hips in search of more. Your body thrums with gentle warmth from the wine, letting you lay loose and easy for him to take as he pleases.

“Fuck, Si…” You gasp, back arching as his tongue pushes inside. You’re close already - emotions running high and pushing your desperation. If you can just cum - just reach that high and get it out of your system - it’ll all be okay.

Your hand grazes over Simon’s shorn hair as he circles your entrance with his fingers - coating them in your slick before slowly, slowly, slowly inching them inside. You whine in complaint, grinding down onto them and the tongue on your clit to get him moving - to get what you want.

“Please, Simon-“ You whine. He takes the hint, speeding up his movements to match your desperation.

“C’mon, pretty girl, cum on my tongue.” Simon groans against you, voice low. “Let me taste you.”

You let yourself fall into it. It’s easy to listen with that deep accent lilting in your ears - oozing honey down your spine. It’s easy to follow instructions blindly. Simon works you through it, murmuring little praises and sweet nothings between pressing sucking kisses to your clit. He only stops when you press your palm against his forehead, whining in protest as the stimulation moves onto just that side of too much.

Simon grabs a condom from one of his many little stashes as you come down and hands it to you, as per usual. You flip it in your hands with half lidded eyes while he strips, not bothering with making any sort of show and just letting it all fall into a pile on the rug beside the couch. Not that you’re complaining. You wince internally at the litany of bruises and marks covering him. New scars forming and deep marks of blue, black and yellow.

He slides the condom on with ease, practiced hands making the usually fumbling task quick. He reaches over you to grab one of the throw pillows propped on the couch armrest and taps your hips for you to lift them.

“Ready f’me?” Simon asks, leaning forward to nip at your soft jawline.

“Yeah.” You gasp, turning your head to meet his lips as he presses inside. They’re slightly chapped from his time away.

“Fuckin’ soaked.” He groans into your mouth. “Always take me so well, yeah?”

You nod, breath catching in your throat as Simon grinds his hips against yours. The angle with the pillow presses him against that sensitive spot inside you with every movement. He keeps it slow - intimate - allowing you to feel all of him with each thrust.

Those dark eyes meet yours, pupils blown wide. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close - careful not to irritate any of his wounds. Simon tucks you against him, one arm around your upper back and the other hand holding the back of your head as he curls you into him. Your legs lock around his waist as you breathe him in - your moans mixing and bodies melding. This is what you needed. To be consumed, to disappear into the purely physical. Your mind doesn’t need to be active, on edge, as you roll your hips to meet his, as you press your fingers into his strong back and gasp when you cum. You only need to feel Simon’s teeth sink into your shoulder, just enough to muffle his own climax.

It’s safe here.

You both sink into the couch, breaths slowing and lids heavy as you come back to reality. The music that had been formerly drowned out comes back into focus. You shiver at the sudden chill of the room when your bodies part, fumbling for one of the random blankets strewn across his various furniture. Simon doesn’t say anything when you drape it across the both of you and lean your head on his shoulder.

You glance out of the corner of your eye as Simon’s phone vibrates on the coffee table. He has messages locked, but you see three consecutive notifications from “Johnny.” You smile and let your eyes slip shut as Simon’s arm wraps around your shoulders to pull you close.

banner by @the-aesthetics-shop

[admirationandromantics]

Stormy Confession

Another request! Don't worry, I do have several more in my inbox, but please be patient, they will come eventually! Anyways, hope you enjoy this. As usual, it's not edited, but who cares?

Word count: 1,9k (Unedited)

They’re BEST friends with benefits, so there is already an established chemistry between them. They’re stuck in a snow storm anddd “im totally kidding but im kind of freezing rn and my heater’s busted” so they decided to hook up in josh’s very roomy car, only to realize “hey ik im being dramatic but we COULD die rn so i need to confess that im in love with you…” lmao my writing is so jumbled but i know you could do wonders with this idea!🥹🥹

The wind is getting worse, almost like it’ll tip the car over. Josh is sitting beside me, driving the car, all tensed up by the stress of it. Usually, I would comment on it, but I understand the gravity of the situation. We just need to keep going, we don’t have that far left. 

The trees outside are dark. Gentle snow taking its place on the pine needles. If it weren’t for the storm, I would love it. Luckily, it’s clear enough that we can still see the road, but I wonder how long that’s going to last. 

I check the weather update, but it’ll not clear up until the middle of the night. If we were to stay in the car until then, we would have to climb the mountain in the dark. This is not something I want to do, but I guess at this point, it’s a must. We just have to stay clear of wild animals, navigate in the dark, try not to slip down the path again. 

We were planning to get to Blackwood Mountain and the Washington lodge. Of course, we went a day earlier than the others, planning on cleaning and getting the place ready. What none of us idiots thought about doing, was to check the weather. About halfway there, the snow got worse. It came in quick patches, making driving hard, and freezing up the car. 

“Josh, it’s literally freezing in here, can you turn on the heater?” 

“It’s busted, was gonna get it fixed after the trip” 

“Of course you were” 

I lean back in my seat, pulling up my backpack and taking out my gloves. At least some part of me would stay warm. As we drive on a long straight row, he leans back and manoeuvres the car with his knee, bringing both hands up to his face to blow hot air into them. Poor guy. I remember that he brought some extra outerwear, just wondering where he left them. My thoughts fly to his bag, he couldn’t have placed them in the front, so back it was. I lean over the mid row and back, trying to find his bag in the back seats. 

“Where’s your backpack?” I ask, rummaging through a bunch of stuff. A blanket, some firewood, a plastic bag. Why is there so much stuff here? We don’t need all of it, and I know for a fact that the lodge has large stacks of firewood. 

“Keep looking” he laughs, not bothering to help me. 

“Josh, just tell me where you put it” 

He laughs, one hand going on the back of my thigh, slightly squeezing my flesh. That’s why he’s being difficult. He just wants to tease me. 

“Stop being a perv and tell me” I sigh, not exactly being a fan of my position. He should be busy driving, not checking me out. 

“But I’m enjoying the view” 

“The only view you should be enjoying is the road in front of you” 

I finally notice it, a small backpack with a scarf and gloves sticking out from under the seat. I lean a bit more forward to reach it, earning a whistle from the guy. I roll my eyes, grabbing the clothing and trying to move back. I get halfway before he speaks. 

“Hard swing” 

“Wha-”

The car takes a rough turn, making my body jolt to the side. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Can’t this man drive a little more carefully? If this unplanned storm doesn’t kill us, then he definitely will. I fall to the side, hips landing in his lap, faces against each other. He has that known playful smirk on his lips, proud of his dangerous accomplishment. 

“You good?” 

“You’re insane” 

“Nah, just a good driver” he shrugs his shoulders, trying not to laugh at himself. 

“You’re not a good driver” 

His arms move over me, holding onto the steering wheel in front of him. His eyes finally move to the road, and he keeps driving as if everything’s normal. I try to sit up, but his hands won’t budge, leading to me falling down again. 

“Josh, if you would be so kind” I force a tight smile, nodding to the caging arms. He looks down, the playful smirk still covering his lips as he thinks. 

“Do you have my gloves?” 

“Indeed I do” 

“Put them on me” 

I look at him in disbelief, what was he, a child? He can easily do that himself. I shake my head, laughing a little at the situation. No way am I going to do that. He has one hand on the wheel, the other held out to me. I roll my eyes, deciding that this is enough. 

I try to get up yet again, but this time, his empty hand finds my chest and pushes me down into him. I give a loud and dramatic sigh, which makes him fully reveal that stupid laughter of his that he’s kept in. 

“You know I could sue you for this?” 

“I can sue you too, disrupting the driver” 

“You made this happen” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” 

I give in, laying against him and relaxing while he drives. No way am I going to be his servant. He’s not that rich. We sit in silence for a couple of minutes, both just minding our own thing. 

Just now, I realise how much warmer I feel while brushing against him. Body heats colliding as he holds me close. A cozy and sleepy murmur comes over me, and I close my eyes, drifting away as we continue driving off. 

***

I press my eyes forcefully together, opening them little by little. The outside is darker than before, and Josh’s still driving into the night, eyes focused on the road. I stretch, giving a yawn at the same time. He shifts his gaze, a smile immediately finding his lips. 

“Well, well, if it isn’t Ms. Sleepy” 

“How long have I been gone?” 

“Around half an hour” 

I nod in reply, head turning to the dark forest and snowy rocks. We were almost there now. 

“And no death yet, I’m impressed” I comment, sitting up as high as he allows me. 

“Wind almost took the car about 10 minutes ago” 

My eyes widen in surprise. Is the weather really that bad? Shouldn’t we stop and wait for it to pass? The thought of it scares me, after all, the mountains this time of year are not that safe as everyone makes them out to be. I mean, if we’re in the lodge, it’s okay. But we’re not. We’re in a moving vehicle, which almost got flipped by the wind. 

“Hey, don’t worry. We’re almost there” 

I nod again. The parking lot is a bit more secluded than the road, so the wind won’t be as strong. But how’re we getting up to the lodge? The cable car is already a death trap, no way I’m going to sit in it during the storm. 

A road hole makes me yelp, body jolting up and down. I automatically grab hold of his arm, steadying myself. His lips thins as he bites them, eyes forced on the road. His breathing changes, big stuttering inhales as if to calm himself down. 

“Josh, are you okay?” 

He doesn’t look down on me, instead his vision is on the path ahead. His knuckles are white from gripping the wheel, and I glimpse a vein popping and going under his jacket. What’s going on with this guy? 

We finally swing into the parking lot, and he parks the car and turns off the engine. We sit in silence, both unsure about our next move. With his arms not in the way, I finally sit up. I grab his shoulder for help, and he takes his arm to my back for support. 

“I don’t think we should go to the lodge yet” he comments, looking out to the cable car station. 

“I know, we’d probably be blown to bits” 

“That’s one way of putting it” 

His other hand goes to my waist, pressing me down on him. That’s when I feel it. He’s hard, very hard. He’s been since the road hole. 

“Are you struggling a bit, Josh?” a smile creeping up on my lips. Oh, how pleasant to finally have some of the power. 

His hand goes to my hair, brushing it away. 

“Oh, you have no idea” 

His head moves closer, fingers gliding over my cheek. He’s cold, extremely cold. It’s like gracing ice taps against my skin. I pull away, taking his hands in mine and warming them.

“You’re freezing” 

“Better do something about it then” 

He moves into me, capturing my lips in his. I respond, opening my mouth a little and licking his lower lip. I don’t forget about his hands though, and carefully puts his gloves on them as we keep going. I change positions, and he helps me, letting me straddle him in the driver's seat. His hands go to my ass, kneading and caressing. I moan into the kiss, which he uses as an opportunity to stick his tongue in my mouth. He fiddles with something behind me, and before I know it, ice-cold fingers make their way down my pants, holding my cheeks. I gasp, the shocked feeling being overcome. This was extreme, why hadn’t he said something about it before. He chuckles against my lips, mouth moving to my jaw and neck, leaving sweet kisses all over. The wet spots get instantly cold when he moves away, and I shutter. 

“W-we should not do this here” 

“I know, I know” 

“We’re going to freeze to death” 

“A bit dramatic are we?” 

“J-Josh” he stops in his tracks, lips glossy and eyes lustful. We both know that we can’t start undressing. With the heater not working, and the snow storm getting worse, that’s the last thing we should be thinking about. God, how dizzy the whole situation makes me feel. I don’t want to be down here. I want to be up in the lodge, alone with him, in front of the fire. 

“Or get eaten by wolves” 

“No we’re not”

“What if an elk attack the car?” 

“We’re not a threat to them” 

“If we’re going to die, I need to confess something” 

“We’re not going to die”

“Five more minutes and your fingers would snap off as easily as bending a carrot” 

“True, but-” 

“Josh…” I put my glove-covered finger over his mouth, stopping his sweet remarks. If there was a time to say it, it had to be now, before we both froze to death, in his car, to be found tomorrow morning by the others. 

“I love you. And I know, we’ve had this whole deal or something where we’ve had sex, and yeah I mean several times, but that’s not the point because I couldn’t stop myself, and please don’t stop seeing me as a friend after this, I promise I’ll get over it, but it’s just something I need to get off my chest or else I can die and not-” 

He shuts me up with a kiss. Hands still on my ass, pressing me deeper against him. 

“Fucking hell, you talk a lot” 

“You already know that about me” 

“Just shut up and kiss me”

[kentofic]

hi! ♡ for the christmas scene prompts, can i request 002 & nanami? ♡

i see the vision and absolutely i can 💗 also hello writer of one of my fav zayne fics?? honored to make your acquaintance 🙇🏻‍♀️ this ended up deeply unserious and a little spicy instead of tender, i apologize

Warming up - Nanami Kento x reader (ft. baby Yuuji)

“…Still cold, I see.”

You glare up at Kento, teeth chattering as you huddle in front of the fireplace. You have a blanket tucked around you like a fleece burrito, and you poke your frozen fingers out from the opening, making grabby hands towards him.

“Shut up and gimme my drink, you smug bastard.”

Kento shakes his head, a wry smile on his lips as he places the mug of cocoa into your waiting hands. Your cold fingers clasp around it greedily, eager to soak up all the warmth from the smooth ceramic.

You shiver, your fingers tingling with the transition from frozen to thawed, and you take a sip of the steaming liquid. It replenishes you, warming you all the way down, but even hot cocoa can’t dissipate the persistent chill in your bones.

You look over your shoulder to check on the tiny menace conked out on the couch. Yuuji looks so peaceful like this—curled up under his favorite blanket, snoozing away, his unfinished cocoa abandoned on the coffee table. All but three years old, and he’s a proper agent of chaos. He had hardly waited for you to zip up his coat before bolting out the front door into the freshly fallen snow, too fast for you or Kento to catch. You had chased after him, yelling, his little gloves and hat in hand, as he squealed and launched himself headfirst into a snowdrift.

Thus ensued a game of tag that you sorely lost. Not only that, but you had forgotten your own coat in a heap by the door. By the time Kento came to drape it over your shoulders, you were already wet and cold from tussling in the snow with Yuuji. Kento said to go back inside and change, but Yuuji insisted the two of you must make a Nanamin snowman right that instant. Enamored by Yuuji’s sweet smile, you had wrapped your coat over the cold wet of your sweater and endured it until the toddler tuckered himself out.

Now you’re paying for it, curled up into a ball in front of the fireplace, Kento’s pursed lips saying without words: he told you so.

You pointedly ignore him, focusing instead on chasing the chill from your body. Your front feels warmer now—but your poor back and butt still feel cold to the bone. Staying crosslegged on the floor, you shuffle yourself 180 degrees until your back has been rotated towards the fireplace. You shiver, waiting for the warmth to spread through your chilled flesh.

Kento leans against the arm of the couch, his smile softening with fondness. He appraises you with one eyebrow arched, his amber eyes glittering with amusement.

“You’re like a rotisserie chicken, trying to get warm on all sides.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “It works, okay? My butt is cold!”

Kento chuckles, tilting his head slightly. “I could help with that.”

You open your mouth, then close it again. A new kind of warmth prickles your cheeks.

“…Well, if you’re offering,” you say after a moment, opening the blanket wrapped around you to invite him in.

He lifts the blanket off of you instead, and you protest with a startled, “Hey!”. A chill washes over you without your precious extra layer, but only briefly. Kento scoops you up and settles you on his lap, both of you facing the fire, and he rearranges the blanket across the two of you. Then he wraps his arms around your waist, his broad chest pressed to your back and his chin hooked over your shoulder. Cradled in his larger frame, warmth blooms through every inch of you, and you let out a happy sigh as you snuggle further into your personal space heater.

“Better?” he murmurs, nosing into the side of your neck before pressing a soft kiss there.

“Mm, much,” you hum in response. You set your cup down on the hearth so you can warm your hands on him instead—slipping your chilly fingers under the sleeves of his sweater to trace the warm, thick muscles of his forearms.

Kento shivers very slightly, but doesn’t protest—just lets you steal his body heat as much as you please. He nips at your earlobe, then grazes his teeth across the cold shell of your ear, his breath warming you there. A pleasant shudder rolls down your spine, and you relax further into him, feeling boneless and sleepy. The two of you sit like that for a while, a comfortable silence between you as you look into the crackling flames.

“You know, you were right,” Kento breaks the silence, his voice a soft rumble.

“Hm? Oh. I’m always right.” You giggle when Kento pinches your waist. “But what exactly was I right about?”

You feel him smile into your neck.

“Your butt is cold. Like an ice cube on my—”

“Kento!” You smack him, laughing and incredulous. He pulls your cold butt further into his lap, playfully grinding up into it. You wriggle around, trying to escape his grasp, but he just tightens his arms around you, his muscled forearms flexing under your hands as you try to pry them off.

“Where are you going?” Kento chuckles, his large, warm hands slipping under the hem of your sweater. “I like your cold butt. A lot. Would you mind if I borrowed it for a bit?”

[lumiolivier]

Treasures and Tragedies

Series: One Piece

Chapter: One Shot

Word Count: 7476

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Cross Guild x Reader (YN)

It's Crocodile's week to have you all to himself. It's getting to the end of the week...and you feel more like it's getting to the end of your life...

You wanted to hide.  It wasn’t often you wanted to hide away from your boys, but today was a day to hide.  You were up in the middle of the night while Crocodile kept an arm around you, making sure his hook was out for the world to see.  Just in case someone were to make their final mistake.  And you knew then something wasn’t right.  Something didn’t feel right.  Any other night, Crocodile would have you drenched in sweat.  The man was a space heater.  Of everyone you slept with on a regular basis, you didn’t need much for blankets with Crocodile.  But that was the thing.  You couldn’t get warm to save your life.

You carefully slipped out of Crocodile’s grasp and made your way toward the bathroom.  If he asked, you got up to pee.  Nothing to bring attention to yourself.  Nothing he would ask questions about.  Everything would be fine.  But when you got to the bathroom, you gripped onto the sink for dear life.  Your short walk from the bed to the bathroom was enough to turn your legs to jelly.  And if that wasn’t enough to turn your already not great stomach, the room decided to start moving on its own, too.  You knew it.  Deep down in your heart, you knew.  You were getting sick.

And in your throat.  And your lungs.  And anything else that decided to reject its existence.  If it could hurt, it did.  And it was utter hell.  But not nearly as much hell as you’d be in if the men in your life were to find out.  As much as it’d suck, you dragged yourself down the hall to your room, leaving Crocodile alone in the bed you both once shared.  That’s when you finally felt safe.  And proceeded to violently throw up in your own bathroom.  After you were done, you violently shook on the cold ceramic.  Your chills made your back tighten up and in that moment, you wished for the sweet release of death.

“I do not envy you…”

You jumped at the unexpected voice floating above you, “Perona, what the hell are you doing in here?”

“You think I didn’t hear you yakking in here?” Perona perched herself on the edge of your bathtub, “How are you sick?  Don’t the boys keep you wickedly healthy?”

“Mostly,” you gently nodded, “But regardless of how great my immune system is, even I can still get sick.”

“Poor baby…” Perona put a hand to your back, “You need to get back to bed?”

“Mmhm…”

“Here,” Perona helped you onto your feet and held you steady while you shuffled back to bed, “You want me to wake Mi-”

“No!” you pleaded, a few coughs escaping your throat, “Perona, no.  Please.  I know your heart is in the right place, but please.  Don’t tell anyone I’m sick.  Don’t tell Mihawk.  Don’t tell Buggy.  Don’t tell Crocodile.  Just keep this between us.  As far as you know, I caught my period before I could stain the sheets, so I just came in here.  All I need is to get some sleep.  The more I can get, the quicker I’ll get better.  I do not need to have the boys hovering over me and treating me like I’m going to break if they look at me cross eyed.  I don’t need that.  Please, Perona, if you love me even a little bit, you’ll keep your mouth shut about me being sick.”

“I won’t say a word,” Perona promised, “But you know how they are with you.  Someone’s bound to find out eventually.  Even when you’re not sick, they’re up your ass in some way.”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, “I know.  But they’re going to have to not be clingy with me today.  Just let me get back to sleep.”

“Alright,” Perona let it go, “Is there anything I can get for you?  Do you need anything?”

“I’ll be alright,” you crawled into your bed and got comfortable.  As much as you could at that point, “But thank you, Perona.  If I need anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Alright,” Perona left you alone to get your rest. 

And as much as you trusted her, you had a feeling she was going to say something to someone.  To the wrong person.  And you were going to end up having someone on your ass about being sick.  But you shut your eyes and left that to be a problem for future you.  For now, you were going back to sleep.  And praying to all things holy and unholy that once you were awake, you would feel a million times better and this was just a weird dream.

When you started to come to again, you heard assorted chatter at your bedside.  And a cool washcloth on your forehead.  You didn’t remember putting that there last night.  Not when you fell asleep almost immediately after your head hit the pillows.  But you had to retrace your steps.  You had your conversation with Perona.  You felt like you were going to die.  You were miserable and frozen, but you were appropriately wrapped up in blankets.  Nowhere in there did you remember putting anything to your forehead.  Nor do you remember inviting company.

“And she wakes…” The second your eyes opened, you knew you were screwed, “Good morning, Princess.”

“Mmm…” you sunk down into your blanket cocoon, the sun shining far too brightly from the window.

“You don’t ever wake up before I do,” Crocodile’s hook ran down your cheek, “And on the off chance you do, you don’t ever come in here.  Which begs the question…”

“What brought you in here, darling?” Not only were you screwed, but you were double screwed.

“I…” your voice gave you away.  You couldn’t write this off on a period.  That didn’t mean you weren’t going to try, “I got my period last night.  And I came in here.”

“You don’t get your period until the end of my week, doll.” Scratch that.  You were triple screwed.

“So,” Crocodile thought, “Other than that fever of yours, what brings you into your room?”

“I’m not running a fever,” you lied through your teeth, “It’s just freezing in here.”

“No,” Mihawk swapped out your washcloth, “Try again.”

“Alright.” Because you didn’t have the energy to fight them anymore, “I came in here last night.  I threw up a bunch.  I went back to bed.  Happy?”

“I think I can speak for everyone,” Buggy sat on your bed, “No.  Not at all.”

“Why didn’t you tell us, YN?” Crocodile asked, “At the very least, me.  Hell, I was right there.”

“Because I knew this would happen,” you brushed them all off, “Because I knew you three would blow it out of proportion and, cough, cough, I don’t need that.”

“We’ve never blown anything out of proportion when it comes to you, treasure,” Mihawk cradled your cheek in his palm, “And you’re staying right here until you’re better.  If we have to, we’ll be the ones to make sure you get that way.”

“He’s right,” Buggy agreed, “You’re precious to us, too.  You’re falling apart at the seams, doll.  We can take care of you, too.”

And that’s what worried you.  But you’d be lying if you said your boys coming together for your sake didn’t warm your heart a little bit, “Alright.  I’m not going to fight it.  But you three have to make me a promise right here, right now.”

“Anything, Princess,” Crocodile insisted, “What do you need?”

“You don’t hover,” you ordered, “I know you three are going to try and give me the world and it’s only going to wreck yourselves in the process.  It’s not worth it.  Got it?”

The three of them shared a glance that always put a knot in your stomach.  You weren’t sure if it was a good one or a bad one, but you knew that look.  Deliberation amongst the three of them.  You always thought they could read each other’s minds, but it was scarier yet.  They read each other’s faces.  They could have a full conversation without you hearing a word out of any of their mouths.  But they did eventually come to an agreement.

“Alright, YN,” Mihawk nodded, “Understood.  But we have demands of our own, too.”

“Come on, Mihawk…” you whined, stirring up another bout of coughing, “I’m sick.  Aren’t I the one who gets to be making those demands?”

“In this case, no,” Mihawk put his foot down, “We’re essentially the only doctors you have here, darling.  If there’s anything we decide you need, you’re getting it.  Whether you want it yourself or not.  Can we all agree to that?”

“Mmmm…” you groaned, burying yourself deeper in your blankets.

“Buggy,” Crocodile ordered, “Go call a supply ship and make an order.  You know what we need.”

“On it,” Buggy left a little kiss on your forehead and took off for the office. 

“Mihawk,” Crocodile began his declarations, but he was quickly shut down with one look from Mihawk.  He knew better than to bark orders at Mihawk.  He wasn’t overly thrilled about it, but he understood.  Regardless of the Cross Guild setting up shop here, it was still Mihawk’s house.  Crocodile didn’t respect many people in this world, but he could respect Mihawk, a fellow warlord who more than earned his station.  And if not for that fact, it was because of you.  Seeing the respect and admiration you had for Mihawk made it contagious.  The only thing Crocodile didn’t respect was the furniture.

“You need me for something, Crocodile?” Mihawk asked, not a drop of condescension in his tone.  Because that respect was mutual.  No matter how much they may occasionally bicker.  Besides, that’s what they had Buggy for.  Buggy was where their irritations went. 

“No,” Crocodile shook his head, “We’ll let YN get some more rest.  I’ll take the first shift with her.  Go ahead and do what you need to.  If anything at all.”

“Thank you for your permission,” Mihawk retorted, already on his way out.  But not before leaving you with a soft little kiss on your forehead, “If you need anything, darling, don’t hesitate to ask.  Any of us.”

“Thank you, Mihawk…” you shut your eyes for a moment or two before you were right back to sleep.  But you knew something was going to happen.  There was no way you were going to be left alone for the day.  You weren’t going to get that lucky. 

Still, you felt like you were dying.  So, what if your boys felt like doting on you a little bit?  That was their prerogative.  And even though it got under your skin, it was nice to know someone cared.  It was nice to have several someones care.  And you loved them for it.  And if it wasn’t obvious before, they loved you, too.  More than anything in the world.  And it would show no more than when you were sick.

A little later in the day, when you woke up from your first nap, you felt another wave of nausea hit you.  And it hit hard.  When you opened your eyes, you noticed Crocodile taking a nap in your chair.  A cup of tea sat on your nightstand, but things were about to get messy.  As much as you wanted a drink from that tea (that was likely still a little warm), you went straight to your bathroom and proceeded with another round of violent retching that, much like it had earlier that morning, left you shaking again.

“YN?” And you may have woken up Crocodile in the process, “You ok, Princess?”

“Do I look like I’m ok?” you glared up at him from the floor, your head resting on the toilet seat.

“I asked a question,” Crocodile’s tone shifted, “I didn’t ask for you to snap at me.”

“Crocodile,” you sighed out, “Sweetheart, I love you.  You know I do.  But right now, I am not going to be sunshine and lollipops.  Do forgive me.”

“I know, I know,” Crocodile scooped you up into his arms.  And you reveled in his warmth, his strength.  You wanted nothing more than just a little time with Crocodile.  Just to be close.  If this is what it meant every time you were to go throw up, then so be it.  When he put you back down in your bed, he noticed the tears rolling down your cheeks, “What’s that all about?”

“What?” your voice broke.  Was it because you were just throwing up or was it something else?  You hardly realized you were crying.

“No…” Crocodile sat on your bed and let you curl back up in his arms, “No, no, no…What’s the matter, YN?”

“I don’t know…” you wept.  Even though you were perfectly aware.  You didn’t want Crocodile to go.  You didn’t want him to go back to your chair.  You wanted him right there.  You wanted him to be within arm’s reach.  You wanted him to be around you.  And just the thought of him walking out of the room kicked your tears up even worse.  Which only made your coughing even worse than that.

“Must be your fever,” Crocodile put a hand to your forehead, “Still kind of high.  But I think it’s breaking.  We’ll call that a win.”

“Please,” you clung to him, your tears soaking through his shirt, “Don’t go.  Please…Don’t leave me.”

“Shh…” Crocodile ran his hand through your hair and down your back, “Don’t you worry, Princess.  I’m not going anywhere.  I got you.  But you’re due for another round of medicine soon.  And you know what that means?”

“Hmm?”

“That means I’m going to hand you off to either Buggy or Mihawk,” Crocodile gently broke the news to you, “I’m not saying I’m leaving right now, but someone’s going to have to handle the supply ship when it comes in.”

“But you said I had medicine,” you remembered, “I thought we were out this morning.”

“That was this morning,” Crocodile pointed out, “YN, you’ve been out for a while.  We’ve had a supply ship come in already.  We’re waiting on another one.  There were some things we forgot the first time around.  I’ll take care of that one.  You’ll be alright with someone else.  I’m not sure who won that game of rock, paper, scissors, but you won’t be alone.  I promise.  Ok?”

“Ok.” You loved Buggy.  You loved Mihawk.  But right now, there’s no one you wanted more than Crocodile.

“It’s alright,” Crocodile assured you, “I’ll be back.  And if you need me, all you have to do is yell for me.  Ok?  You know I’ll come running.”

“Thank you,” you nestled your tear stained face into Crocodile’s ribs. 

“Of course, Princess,” Crocodile held you close, “Of course, I’m here.  I’m not going anywhere.”

“Crocodile,” Mihawk stood in the doorway with a pair of tablets in his hands and a glass of water, “Buggy’s looking for his fishnets, so I have YN’s medicine.  I’ll take the next shift.”

“She’s a little clingy, Mihawk,” Crocodile wasn’t letting you go, “I appreciate you bringing her medicine, but I don’t think she’s going to let me go anywhere.”

“If that’s the case,” Mihawk put your water and medicine down on the nightstand got in your bed on the other side of you, “I guess I’ll just have to be here, too.”

“I got her, Mihawk,” Crocodile kept his arm around you, “Go ahead and do whatever.  I’m sure your protégé is looking for you for yet another futile sparring match.”

“No,” Mihawk pushed your matted hair out of your face, “He left a few days ago.  I’m surprised you didn’t get your own licks in.”

“With the rest of the Straw Hats here?” Crocodile laughed, “No.  I don’t have a death wish.  And I’m sure if I even thought about going near their captain, your son, but not your son would be the first to drive the nail in my coffin.”

“Hey, guys?” you spoke weakly, hoping to break up the potential fight brewing between them, “Can we not talk about dying when I actually feel like I’m dying?  That’d be wonderful.”

“I’m sorry, darling,” Mihawk left a little kiss on top of your head, “We didn’t upset you, did we?”

“No,” you let a few coughs out, “But I really do feel like shit.  And I’d rather you two didn’t try to kill each other in my bed.”

“Alright,” Crocodile let it go, “But truly, Mihawk, go.  I have her handled.”

“Fine,” Mihawk got up from your bed, “If you need anything, YN, you know where to find me.”

“And I’ll probably send Crocodile to find you,” you giggled a little, “Because there’s no way in hell either one of you are going to let me get up for anything other than the bathroom.  And even that’s iffy.”

“Get some rest, darling,” Mihawk covered you up a little more, “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” you cracked a little smile and curled back up with Crocodile.  And you shut your eyes again.

But that’s when the medicine kicked in.  And your fever started to take hold of your brain and put it in a paint shaker.  When you shut your eyes and drifted off to sleep, your brain turned into colors.  Swirling shades of blues and greens and shades of gray only to have them fade into pinks and yellows and all the pretty colors of the sunset.  And you were perfectly content.  Until it turned.

Your beautiful, cold medicine and fever concoction turned violent.  The sunset went away and turned into black and red.  And an empty room with a cold, cement floor and red splatters all over the place.  You looked around the room and found a heavy chain around your wrist.  All while you noticed dead bodies on the floor still twitching.  A voice echoed through the room.  Your fault.  Your fault.  Your fault.  And it only got louder and louder until you finally realized who those bodies were.  And how you were soaked to the bone in blood that was not your own. 

“YN…” you felt your body shake, “YN, wake up…”

Your heart was about to beat out of your chest when your eyes opened back up.  Thankfully, still living and breathing, Crocodile held you tight, doing his best to get you to calm down.  But when you looked up at him, you felt the tears pouring out of your eyes, “Crocodile…You’re ok…”

“Of course, I am, Princess,” Crocodile pinned you to his chest and let you cry it out, “Of course, I am.  I’m not going anywhere.  You know that.  I’ve already shooed off Mihawk and Buggy and Perona today.  I told you before you fell asleep.  I am not going anywhere.  What happened?”

“I…” you wept, “I…I killed you…And Mihawk and Buggy.  Everything was so nice, but then…”

“Shhh…” Crocodile cradled you in his arms, making sure nothing could get to you ever again, “It’s alright, YN.  It’s alright.  It’s all over now.  You just had a little nightmare.  It’s ok.  It’s all done.  I promise.”

“I hate it,” you snarled, “I fucking hate it.”

“I know you do, sweetheart,” Crocodile settled you, “But it’s done now.  You don’t have to think about it anymore.  I know you’d never kill me.  You know you’d never kill me.  It’s ok.  I forgive you.”

“Really…?” your bloodshot eyes looked up at one of the men you loved more than anything and held so dear and most definitely didn’t want dead.

“Really,” Crocodile let you get comfortable in his shoulder, “You know, YN…It’s been a while since I held anyone like this.”

“When was the last time?” you wondered, not really seeing Crocodile as much of the cuddly type.  Except when you were involved.

“If we can keep it between us,” Crocodile began.

“Of course,” you swore.

“I had a baby like this,” Crocodile sighed out, getting lost in a nostalgic haze, “He was sick at the time, too.  His father was out looking for medicine, but there wasn’t much where we were at the time, so he had to go on an honest journey for the sake of finding a doctor who could get us some.  And he cried so much.  He hurt so much.  And of course, he didn’t fully understand what was going on, so that just made it worse.  And there was nothing more I could do.  Broke my heart to hear him scream like that.  But he did get better.”

“What happened to the baby?” you asked, nestling further into Crocodile’s embrace.

“He ended up going to live with his grandfather for a while.  And I didn’t see him for a long time until he popped up in Alabasta.  He doesn’t know how well connected we are, but…” You saw a strange sadness fall over Crocodile’s face.  Only for him to snap back into taking care of you mode, “That was a long time ago.  And nothing you need to worry about.  Just go back to sleep, ok, Princess?  We need to get you better.”

“And I will get better,” you cuddled into him, letting him know that with as much as he’s there for you, you’re there for him, too, “That’s what I got you for.”

“That’s right…” You didn’t know it, but you might have made Crocodile’s day with that statement, “Now, get some sleep or your next round of medicine is going in you as a suppository.”

“So demanding,” you giggled deliriously, “Maybe I want it that way.”

“You are a special kind of freak, YN,” Crocodile hugged you tight, “Just get some sleep.  Ok?”

“Okie dokie…” your delirium took over.  And then, your delirium took you under. 

When you started to come to a little while later, you felt yourself in someone else’s arms.  That was not Crocodile anymore.  And your heart immediately started racing.  Not only were you moved, but Crocodile was no longer there.  You thrashed and freaked until you realized the sound around you.  Splashing.  Water.  Bathroom.  Bathtub?  Bathtub.  Bathroom.  Your bathroom.  The same place you had thrown up earlier that morning.  What were you doing there?

“It’s alright, darling,” Mihawk cradled you in his chest, “It’s alright.  We didn’t want you slipping into the water and you had thrown up on yourself earlier.  You’re ok.”

Your heartrate started to settle and you became much more acutely aware of the horrendous taste in your mouth.  It was ok.  Everything was ok.  And yet, you had one question burning in your mind, “Where’s Crocodile?”

“Taking care of your sheets,” Mihawk told you, “I’m hoping this bath breaks your fever a little, too.  It’s almost there.  We just need it to drop another degree or two.”

“Ok…” You weren’t upset to be held by Mihawk.  But you missed Crocodile’s warmth around you.  You missed the softness.  You missed the tender way he held you…

“YN…?” Speak of the devil, Crocodile poked his head into your bathroom, “I thought I heard your voice in here.”

“I’m here…” you replied weakly, “Sorry for throwing up on you.”

“No need for that, Princess,” Crocodile brushed it off, “You didn’t even throw up on me.  Your bedding can’t say the same, but it’ll be alright.  That can be washed.  You can be washed.  And I’m sure Mihawk’s more than accommodated you in that respect.  Hasn’t he?”

“Yes, he has,” Mihawk nodded, “And everything has been entirely pure and innocent, Crocodile.  I’m not breaking any rules here.  She’s sick.  We’re taking care of her.”

“Everyone except Buggy,” Crocodile pointed out.

“Where is Buggy?” you wondered.

“I’m surprised he was with you as long as he was this morning,” Crocodile admitted, “The guy’s got a thing about germs and getting sick.  It’s the performer in him.”

“I think that’s the first time you called him a performer,” you giggled, letting a few coughs out, “instead of a narcissist.”

“Is he not a little full of himself?” Mihawk scoffed, “Come on, YN.  You know him, too.”

“Just a little,” you shut your eyes again, “But that’s ok.  I wouldn’t want him any other way.”

“Really?” Mihawk looked at you like you were on drugs.  But in your defense, you kind of were.

“Mmhm…”

“You’re delirious, Princess,” Crocodile got a towel for you and scooped you out of the water, “Come here.  Let’s get you back to bed.  As much as I love seeing you hot, wet, and naked, this isn’t the right context.”

“Love you, too, Crocy…” you rolled into the towel and got comfortable right where you belonged. 

Crocodile gave a grateful nod to Mihawk, who had to get his own towel.  Crocodile was a sweetheart to you.  But you were also you, “Crocodile?”

“What?” Crocodile turned on his heel.

“I know you’re going to bring her back to bed,” Mihawk thought, “But pray tell, which bed are you putting her in?  I’m sure hers hasn’t been properly cleaned yet.  And if it has, there’s no way it’s dry.”

“I have it all taken care of, Mihawk,” Crocodile rolled his eyes, “You think I don’t know how to take care of YN when she’s sick?  Or anyone for that matter?  I did it with him.  I’ll do it with her, too.”

Mihawk looked at Crocodile strangely, “Him who, Crocodile?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Crocodile kept a tight lip as he brought you back to your room.  However, you weren’t going to your bed.  Because as Mihawk suggested, there was still a wet spot on the edge of your bed where you were presumably laying when the incident went down.  No, no.  You were brought into Crocodile’s bed.  But you couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Crocodile,” you spoke softly, “Why are we here?”

“I’m not putting you back in your bed,” Crocodile gently lowered you back down to the mattress, “It’s still a little wet.”

“But what about you?” you wondered, “I don’t want you getting sick, too.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Princess,” Crocodile settled you, tucking you in his massive bed, “You just need to worry about getting better.  And even that, we have taken care of.  I’m going to get you a t-shirt, ok?”

“Ok.” You always did love sleeping in Crocodile’s t-shirts.  You always drowned in them and made you feel little and dainty.  Much like sleeping with Crocodile did.  He babied you.  And you weren’t mad about it.

“Here, sweetheart,” Crocodile came back with a gray t-shirt just for you and helped you in it, “Go back to sleep, ok?  I’ll go get your medicine and when I get back, you’re taking it.  Got it?”

“Yes, sir…” you gave him a little fake pout as you nestled down in his bed.  And after you popped your next round of medicine, you were back to sleep in Crocodile’s arms. 

**********

“Thank you for coming.  I know it was short notice.”

“Of course.  I have an obligation to help those who need it.  And clearly, she’s been in rough shape.”

“We’ve been doing all we can for her, but it feels like she’s not getting any better.”

“Well, she’s not running a fever anymore, so we can chalk that up as a win.”

Slowly, but surely, you opened your eyes when you felt a foreign pair of hands on your chest, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Excuse me?” the man stared you down, not sure if he wanted to cure you or kill you.  But then, you got a better look at him.  And for a brief moment, you forgot you were already in a committed relationship with three other men.  He was pretty…

“It’s alright, YN,” Mihawk assured you, sitting at your bedside with Crocodile, “I called for a doctor.  He showed up.  And he’s damn good at what he does.”

You knew those knuckles.  You’ve heard stories about those knuckles.  The word death tattooed across them.  And in your current condition, that wasn’t exactly comforting, “Trafalgar Law…”

“That’s me,” he nodded, “Look, I have some medicine on the ship.  By the looks of things, she just caught a tinge of the flu.  She’ll make it, but for the sake of nipping it in the bud, I’ll give her something.  Unfortunately, the quickest way for it to get through her system is intravenously.  Is that something we’re all good with?”

“Yes,” Mihawk agreed.

“Yes,” Crocodile wasn’t much different.

“Hold on.” You, on the other hand, weren’t exactly a fan of the word intravenous.  Intravenous meant needles.  Needles meant pain.  Pain meant you having a not good day.  And you were already miserable.

“No,” Crocodile took your hand, “I know it’s not going to be pleasant, YN, but it’s the quickest way to get you better.  If we agree to this, how long until she’d be a hundred percent again?”

“With a decent night’s sleep?” Law thought it over, “She’d probably be better by the morning.  Completely.  That doesn’t mean she won’t be still a little contagious.  So, I’d suggest the two of you still exercise caution around her.  While I’m getting her meds ready, I can set you both up with a heavy duty round of vitamin C.”

“If it means still being able to sleep with her tonight,” Crocodile thought, “It’s worth it.  Misery doesn’t ever mind a little bit of company, does it?”

“Nope,” you cuddled into Crocodile’s side, “Thank you…”

“I probably should, too, then,” Mihawk sighed out, taking your hand, “Besides, it’s, what, one little tablet?”

“If only,” Law started heading out of Crocodile’s bedroom, “So, that’s a round of peramivir for you and two bags of vitamin C.  A boring day of work, but they can’t all be a bloodbath.”

“Wait a second,” Mihawk started to piece things together, “Did I just sign up for needles, too?”

“You sure did,” Crocodile smirked, “What’s the matter, Mihawk?  Not a fan of needles?”

“I’m concerned for anyone who says they are,” Mihawk admitted, “But yes.  I might not be the biggest fan of needles.”

“Me either,” you took Mihawk’s hand.  Because even in your state, you weren’t going to stoop to Crocodile’s level.  They didn’t have to love each other, but they loved you more than anything, “But we’ll be alright…If it means me getting better and you and Crocodile not getting sick, we’ll get through it.”

“Then,” Mihawk suggested, “Shouldn’t we get Buggy involved, too?”

“No way in hell!” Buggy yelled down the hall, “You two were dumb enough to stick around!  I don’t need that!”

“There it is,” Crocodile found Buggy’s ear sitting behind the cigar box on his dresser.  He held it up to his mouth and let out a guttural growl, “Listen well, clown.  You ever bug my bedroom again and we will have a problem.  Do we understand?”

“Crocy…Baby…” Buggy got defensive, sending his mouth your way, too, “I wasn’t bugging your bedroom, per se.  I was worried about YN, too.  I just wanted to hear what the doctor had to say, too.”

“Then, get your ass in here…” Crocodile winged Buggy’s ear out the door, “Fucking clown…Why do we put up with him?”

But then, you saw a pair of cheeks fly into Crocodile’s room.  And you immediately knew what they were.  It made you laugh, but your laughter made you cough.  Still, it was enough to put a smile on your face.  And that’s all that mattered.  However, Crocodile and Mihawk weren’t nearly as amused as you were.  That didn’t mean they didn’t appreciate the sweet sound of your laughter.

“Buggy,” Mihawk held his face in his hands, “If you sent your literal ass into this room, my foot is about to go into it.”

“Are you threatening me with a good time, hawk eyes…?”

“Buggy!”

“Alright, alright!” Buggy retracted his floating hiney and let those sleeping dogs lie.

Although, when Law walked back in, he couldn’t help but scratch his head, “Did I just see a floating ass in the hallway?”

“We call her Perona,” you joked a bit, “Unless you were talking about Buggy’s ass.  Then, yes, you did.”

“Anyway,” Law just chalked it up to casual stupidity and held three bags in his hand and a few drip stands, “I need three arms out.”

“You mean, you need YN’s arm out,” Mihawk corrected him, “Right?”

“No,” Law shook his head, already prepping your arm for the IV, “I mean, I need three arms out.  Because once I got hers in, you two are getting it, too.”

“And,” Mihawk hoped, “You really don’t have it in some kind of pill form?”

“Not this strength,” Law told him, “The amount you two need is in these bags.”

“I can’t believe it,” Crocodile teased, “You’re really afraid of needles.”

“I’m human,” Mihawk snapped a bit, “Even I have fears and weaknesses…Just happens to be needles.  Fuck off, Crocodile.  No one asked you.”

“Are you going to be ok, YN?” Law asked, tuning the others out.

“Mmhm.” You weren’t thrilled about it either, but if it meant you getting better, then so be it.  You’d suck it up for just a moment or two.

“Are you sure?” Law kept your eye contact, “Because I know these aren’t always pleasant.”

“I don’t want to meet the person that finds genuine enjoyment in getting administered IVs,” you chuckled to yourself.

“Why’s that?” Law glanced over at Crocodile, knowing he was the rock in the room.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you admitted, “I’m no stranger to enjoying a little bit of pain from time to time, but it has to be in the right context.  It has to be cough, cough just the right amount.  There has to be an exit.”

“So,” Law assumed, “You’re into that sort of thing?  Because it sounds like you’ve experienced it a time or two before.”

“Look who I’m sitting between,” you rolled your eyes, “Two of the biggest sadists I’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting.  Of course, we’ve played around with pain before.”

“And would you look at that?” Law cracked a little smirk, “You’re already a quarter of the way through your bag.  Didn’t feel a thing, did you?”

“What?” you looked down at the needle stuck in your arm and the tube attached to the needle, “When did you do that?”

“Around the time you said you didn’t want to meet the sick weirdo that was into getting IVs,” Law pointed out, “I’ve worked with little kids before, YN.  I know how to distract better than anyone.  I bet I could keep Mihawk from passing out, too.”

“Really?”

“Really?” Mihawk rolled his eyes, “I don’t pass out.”

“Uh-huh,” Law scoffed, “You were just talking about how you had a fear of needles.”

“And?” Mihawk’s tirade continued, “What does that have to do with anything?  It’s like I said.  I’m human.  What?  Am I not allowed to have fears now?  Just because I’m a big, scary warlord means I’m somehow no longer allowed to have emotion?  Fine.  Then, I guess I’ll just sit here and be a stone.  I’m sorry, YN.  I can no longer love you.  And I can no longer get pissed when Crocodile puts scorch marks in my furniture.  And unfortunately, I also can’t draw delight from whenever you punt Buggy’s head down the hallway.”

“But you can shut up and take your vitamin C drip,” Law brushed him off, turning the nozzle on Mihawk’s bag, “I told you so.”

“What?” Mihawk finally realized there was something in his arm.  There was an IV in his arm.  There was a needle stuck in his arm.  And his vision started to go white, “See?  I told…I told you…”

And there he went.  His head flopped onto your shoulder while the vitamin C drip ran through his body.  And of course, Crocodile couldn’t leave that alone, “And I told you so.  How do you do that, Law?”

“I hold a little conversation,” Law explained, “Get someone going on a rant, they’re not going to give a shit about anything else that’s going on around them.  Easy.”

“Did you just treat me like a toddler?!” Mihawk clutched his chest.

“Are you throwing a tantrum like a toddler?” Law wasn’t dealing with it.  He was already out of his way.  He didn’t need to also deal with Mihawk pitching a fit, “Because if I wanted to deal with tantrums, I would’ve stayed with Doflamingo.”

“Maybe I should tell Doflamingo about this,” Mihawk threatened.

“But let’s be honest,” Law jabbed the needle in Crocodile’s arm.  Crocodile, who sat perfectly still and hardly flinched, “Do you really want to deal with Doflamingo?”

“I mean…” Mihawk admitted, “I’d be lying if I said he wasn’t fun to be a little catty with at World Government meetings.  But that’s as far as I really wanted to go with him.”

“You and me both,” Crocodile agreed.

“Now,” Law looked over at your bag that was sucked dry and gently pulled the needle out of your arm, “You’re going to get some more sleep.  By the time you wake up tomorrow morning, you should be alright again.  If you’re not, I’ll come back.”

“Ok,” you got comfortable again, “And since they’re both juiced up on vitamin C, does that mean I can still sleep with Crocodile tonight?”

“Are you serious?” Law stared blankly at you, “You’re still going to have sex with Crocodile in your condition?  Damn, YN.  I’m not sure if I’m impressed by your stamina or appalled at your stupidity.”

“No,” you held your face in your hands, “I meant sleep.  I’m not used to sleeping without another warm body in my bed.  I’d rather not do that.”

“Oh,” Law let it go, “Personally, I wouldn’t advise it, but if it’s alright with all involved, then go for it.  At your own risk.”

“Ok…”

“But…” Law chuckled to himself while Mihawk slumped down after his needle got pulled out, “I think you might need to make room in the bed for Mihawk, too.”

“Not a chance,” Crocodile shot that down immediately, “It’s my week.  Mihawk can wait his turn.  Mihawk, wake the fuck up and get out of my bed.”

Nothing.

“Looks like he’s done,” Law shook it off, “Crocodile, give me your arm.  You’re done, too.”

“The shit I do for you, YN,” Crocodile watched Law pull his needle out.

“Thank you…” And you love him for it, “Thank you, Law.”

“You’re welcome,” Law grabbed his things, “I suggest putting Mihawk somewhere comfortable.”

“That isn’t here,” Crocodile added, scooping Mihawk into his arms, “YN, I’ll be right back, ok?”

“Ok,” you could already feel your eyes getting a little heavier.  All you wanted now was some sleep.  And the fact that you had that pretty doctor taking care of you didn’t hurt. 

“Knock, knock…” Although, while Crocodile was busy putting Mihawk to bed, you had a special visitor, “How you feeling, doll?”

“Hi, Buggy,” you smiled a bit, “Well, I still feel like shit, but I think I’ll make it.  Full recovery.”

“That’s good to hear,” Buggy wasn’t moving from the doorway.  It’s not that he didn’t want to get close to you, but he also didn’t want to get close to you, “So, what are we thinking?  Are you going to be ok by next week?”

“I should be fine by tomorrow,” you assured him, “Don’t worry, Buggy.  I won’t be sick next week.”

“Because,” Buggy sent his hand out to you, gently caressing your cheek, “I have a few new toys in my room that I want us to try out.  And I want you to feel up to it.  Got it?”

“I will,” you promised, “I’ll be fine.”

“Good girl,” Buggy brought his hand back, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take an excruciatingly hot shower.”

“I understand.” Never did you expect Buggy to be the one with a germ thing, but you weren’t going to fault him much for it.  Instead, you decided to shut your eyes.  Just for a moment or two.  You wanted nothing more than to make up for the lost sleep you being sick has caused.  But alas…You still couldn’t get that lucky.

“So, are you dead?” And Perona never really had much for tact.

“I’m not dead,” you groaned, “I’m just tired, Perona.  And in my own special hell.  Can I go to sleep yet?”

“I can’t check up on you?” Perona scoffed, “Honestly, YN.  I thought we had something special, too.  Not just you and the boys.”

“We do,” you threw your head back into the pillows, “But I’m also miserable.  And tired.”

“And don’t think I didn’t hear that crack about you calling me an ass!” Perona pouted.

“That’s great, Perona…” You drifted in and out of consciousness.  And you were perfectly ok with that.

“I’m not an ass!”

“Mmhm…”

“I am a fucking sweetheart, thank you very much!”

“Good talk, Perona…”

“And you are damn lucky to have me in your life!”

“Mmm…” But you were done.  You were going to let Perona continue her tirade, but you were done with it.  It was time for you to go to sleep.  Whether Perona was happy about it or not.  You needed the rest.  In all honesty, if Mihawk hadn’t passed out after his IV, he would’ve gladly shooed her away for you.  But alas, Mihawk had to go and pass out after his IV coming out.  But you weren’t going to fault him for it.  As long as you got to go back to sleep.

“Perona, get the hell out of here.” Much like that, but instead of it coming out of Mihawk, you got it from Crocodile instead.  Although, you weren’t expecting to be fully woken up by it.

“You’re no fun,” Perona pouted, “Where’s Mihawk?  I guess I could go fuck with him.”

“He’s passed out in his bed,” Crocodile reported, “The big baby can’t handle needles, apparently.”

“Poor thing,” Perona grinned, the sadism stirring in her heart.

“You’re the worst, Perona,” you made a little more room for Crocodile.

“I know.” And just like that, Perona was gone.  Likely off to screw with Mihawk in unspeakable ways.  If not Mihawk, you knew she was going to go take it all out on Buggy.  Much like everyone else would.

Your arms went up to Crocodile, quietly begging him to come to bed.  Of course, he couldn’t say no to you.  He crawled back into his bed and you stuck right to him like a magnet.  Crocodile’s giant hands ran idly down your back, “You should be back to sleep already, Princess.”

“I know,” you shut your eyes, “I was waiting for you to get back here.”

“You would’ve been able to sleep without me,” Crocodile brushed you off, “I’m sure whatever Law gave you had some kind of tranquilizer in it.”

“I don’t think so,” you nestled into Crocodile’s ribs, “Crocy…I’m tired…”

“Clearly,” Crocodile chuckled to himself, “Just go to sleep, sweetheart.  Ok?”

“I will…” And so, you drifted back to sleep in Crocodile’s arms, refusing to be anywhere else.  Between Crocodile’s warmth, your general exhaustion, and your medicine kicking in, there was no way you wouldn’t sleep through the night.  You didn’t care about anything else.  You had your blankets.  You had your warlord of the week.  You were done.

Purupuru…

“Yeah?” Crocodile kept his voice down, making sure not to wake you.  Granted, that ship had already sailed, but you were curious, so you kept your eyes shut, “Hi.  It’s been a while, hasn’t it…?  I’d be happy to, but forgive my skepticism…I wouldn’t say we parted ways as best buddies…Look, I can’t really talk right now…Yeah.  She’s been sick for the last day or so.  It hasn’t been pretty.  Kind of reminded me of when we were taking care of Luffy when he was little…I know.  Scared the shit out of me…Yeah, yeah.  She’ll be fine.  We got a doctor to her and he juiced her up with something.  He called it peramivir.  He juiced Mihawk and me, too, but that was just vitamin C…Good.  She needed something strong…Thank you.  That’s oddly kind of you.  Are you dying…?  I know.  Maybe one day, if she’s alright with it.  You do know where I’m staying these days, right…?  Mihawk’s.  Just call ahead first…Don’t go getting sentimental on me…Good night.”

“Crocodile…?” You stirred at his side, “What was that all about?”

“What was what, Princess?” Crocodile put his hand up to your forehead and let out a little sigh of relief, “Good.  That shit works fast.”

“What do you mean?” you wondered.

“Your fever’s gone,” Crocodile reported, “You’re almost all better.  Remind me to send Law a fruit basket.”

“Will do,” you went back to sleep, letting that conversation slip your mind.

“Go back to sleep, YN,” Crocodile pulled your blankets back over you.

“Yes, sir…”

[uncleeater]

Keeping Warm - LN4 🍋 (1/12)

Warnings: Smut under the cut, some cursing, lando being a perv, fem!pronouns, fem!anatomy

A/N: My first ever fic! i hope yall like it, gimme some feedback on what to improov upon in the comments pls :3

Word Count: 882

It was -5°C outside, cold covering everything it could, inconsiderate of broken heaters and electricity-dependent 20 year olds. So, you and Lando, pretty much. "Dammit, my phones almost dead." Lando softly whines, phone in hand as he walked out of the bedroom, "You wouldn't happen to have a spare power bank, would you?" The snow storm had blown out all the power for the city, leaving everything electronic screwed until the storm blew over. This included phones, chargers, microwaves, ovens, fridges, and the such.

You glance up from your book, watching your boyfriend flop down onto the bed in front of you. "No dice. My turn for a question: Have you found any extra blankets?"

He moves his head to the side, jokingly glaring at you. "Oh, because I'm your little slave that's only here to provide warmth. I forgot, sorry."

It's your turn to glare. You loved your boyfriend, but he was a bit dramatic at times. Times = always. "Slut is the preferred term, but That works too."

"....Wellllllll..." Lando looks at you with an evil grin, "What if your slut had a new way to keep you warm?"

"But my book!" You groan as it's snatched from your hands

"C'mon, baby," Lando coaxed, sliding off of the couch and sitting down in front of you, "not even for your poor, sad, lonely, desperate, hopeless boyfriend?"

"Wow, not dramatic at all" You retort, putting your computer to the side and looking down at him

"Cmon. the heaters broken, we don't have a fire place, and we've already used all the blankets. Name a better way to keep warm."

Lando grab your knees, spreading them apart and kissing up your thighs. His eyes flick up to yours, clouded with lust as he gets closer to your core.

"Lan." You hum softly

"Yeah?" He muses in return, peppering kisses up and down your thighs, teasingly switching to the other each time he gets close to your core. He knew what he was doing, and was planning on milking it for as long as possible.

"...If, and that's a strong if, I let you get what you want, then do you promise to let me do my work later?" You say quietly, looking down at the beautiful boy between your thighs

"Mhm...promise baby, I promise..." Lando's words are slurred slightly, his lips prioritizing kisses more than words at the moment

You shift on the couch slightly, hooking your thumbs under your waistband. Lando looks up at you, moving a hand from your thigh to grab onto your shorts. he slides his fingers around next to yours, tugging your shorts and panties down to your knees. His eyes roam over the newly exposed skin, hands unhooking your bottom layers from around your leg.

"You okay with this?" Lando checks with you, looking up at you

"Yes, I am. You?" You smile down at him

"More ready than I've ever been." He breathes, his hands moving your thighs apart. His lips ghost against your thighs, rushing to your core. He briefly hesitates before his tongue slowly licks up and down your cunt a few times. His lips wrap around your clit, rolling it in his mouth gently.

"Ah..." You gasp, one of your thighs lifting up in attempt to move your cunt closer to Lando. His hand reaches up and grabs it, using it to pull you against him. Your back was against the couch, legs thrown over Lando's shoulders. Your wet cunt was perfectly level with his face as he sat on the floor, right in front of the couch.

He detaches his lips from you, letting go of one of your thighs. He brings his hand up to his mouth, licking two fingers wet. He slides his fingers up and down your folds, spreading the spit-and-slick mixture around. Once he deems you wet enough, he slips two fingers into your heat.

"Oh, fuck!" You cry out, back arching at the new sensation. Lando grins, tongue going back to thrashing around your clit. As he makes out with your cunt, his free hand grips your thigh and pulls it against him to stop you from slipping away.

He loved you like this. He loved you always, but this was a special side of you that was just for him. Only he could make you feel this way and that was practically enough for him to cum on the spot. Or make you cum on the spot.

His index finger pulls out, giving just enough room for his tongue to replace it. His tongue undulates inside you as his middle finger pumps in and out. His eyes dreamily close as feels his tongue begin to be constricted. Realizing that you were about to cum, he gives a few last good sucks to your cunt.

With a final wave of pleasure, you sink into your orgasm. Heat from your core presses down and then explodes all over your body. You become numb to everything except how Lando drinks up your soul.

As the waves die down, you become aware of everything around you. Lando moves over to the side of you, crossing his arms underneath his head as it lays on the sofa cushion on your right. He grins, looking you up and down.

"Warm enough now?"

[quietlyimplode]

Dearest Anon; thank you for your kind gift of no ads. I can’t quiet articulate on what it means but know I’ll try and find a way to pass it forward.

Whilst you mentioned it wasn’t needed, I wanted some way to say thank you. So, what follows is some Clint/Nat hurt/comfort and them taking care of each other. I hope the rest of the week greets you kindly. And if it doesn’t know that I’m rooting for you. 💜💜

secret languages.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: blood/dissociation

.

“Tash,” Clint whispers, “come on, we’re almost there, one foot in front of the other.”

Blood drops from her fingers and she focuses on his words.

“Yeah. That’s it,” his words dutifully guiding her forward.

“Come on, two more steps.”

She takes the final step to his loft and looks balefully at him.

He knows words won’t come easily and even following instructions need to be broken down into manageable components.

His body feels so heavy.

Clint feels like if it wasn’t for her, he would be just crashing on the couch with the fallout from the mission.

The bruise on his left cheek darkening and gravel rash on his thigh smarting.

He leads the way, unlocking the door and guiding her inside.

She stops once through the threshold, unsure of her movements.

Grabbing a towel from the pile of washing he’d never put away, he lays it strategically to cover the sofa.

“Sit,” he commands softly.

She doesn’t even watch as he moves around; her vision tunnelled as she drops blood onto the wooden floorboards.

Taking her hand, he guides her to sit on the couch.

He doesn’t think it’s a concussion, likely not anything permanent.

Clint hopes not anyway.

Squatting next to her, he unzips her top.

There’s a moment where he thinks she might resist, instead she closes her eyes, and blocks him out.

“Sorry, I should have said,” he tells her, and helps her take her suit off her shoulders down to her waist.

She shivers.

Clint stands and puts the heater on, grabbing a blanket to place over her legs, another towel and the suture kit.

“Nat, I need you to tell me when it hurts okay?”

Even as he says it, he knows she won’t.

She looks at him, but he thinks it’s only because he’s spoken.

Only in a bra, she shivers again, and he apologises, placing the blanket over her lap.

The cut runs from her shoulder to her elbow, weeps; the bruising on her face is accompanied by swelling, just like his.

Clint wants a shower, and wonders if she wants one too. He feels sticky and can smell his sweat when he moves.

“I smell,” he comments on a whim, hoping for something, anything other than unfocused eyes.

He hates it; but he understands it.

“Okay,” he says under his breath, “we’ve got this, just some stitches and maybe some painkillers, then a shower and bed, okay?”

He says it like a checklist himself, like it’s that easy, but he knows that it’s not.

The small kit for stitching is ready next to the sofa, and he reaches for it.

Poor fine motor skills and a tremor in his hands makes it crash to the floor and Natasha flinches.

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbles, picking it up.

He focuses on her, trying to gauge what and how’s she’s feeling but apart from being nonverbal, her body language gives nothing away.

“Okay, Nat, I’m going to wipe the blood okay? The towel is scratchy.”

Clint wipes it down, the wound not too deep but almost instantly refilling with blood.

“Now, this will sting, it’s the alcohol wipe,” he says as he dabs a small bit then looks up.

No reaction.

Eyes watch the wall.

He tries to give as much information as he can, and likewise it almost helps to ground him.

The piercing of her skin with the hooked needle makes his face contort; and even though it’s met by no reaction, he still hates that it’s him that’s hurting her.

“Okay, it’s started,” he narrates.

“Hook… tie… snip,” he tells himself, doing the action and then looking up to check again.

She’s watching now.

It must hurt.

Or at the very least pierced her subconscious.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, and then looks back down the the wound.

“Maybe four to go,” he tells her.

“Nat? Does it hurt?”

Clint glances at her back, his gravel rash from being dragged by a motor bike seems nothing to the staircase fall down a fire escape.

He’d watched in horror, but she’d just gotten up and ran, motioning for him to do the same.

Gas in the building, their escape had been quick.

Hers had been frantic.

He’s not even sure if it touched her, but the fear was real.

“Nat, does it hurt?” he asks again, three stitches to go.

On the last stitch, he ties it off, wipes it down again, then stands to get an ice pack.

As he stands, she vomits everywhere, just missing Clint.

“Fuck,” he swears.

He grabs her and pushes her to the bathroom, the smell overpowering, as he wonders just what was left in her from their meal the night before.

He sits her on the toilet, handing her a bin.

“Do you still feel sick?” he asks.

“Nauseous?”

She stares into the bottom of the bucket.

There’s an increase, only slightly, in her breathing.

Clint catches it, hoping it doesn’t escalate to a panic attack. He wonders if it means she’s going to vomit again.

Was it the gas? Or holding it together whilst he stitched her arm?

He turns the heater on.

“H..” the word doesn’t pass her lips, but the attempt does.

He nods at her her attempt.

“Yeah?”

Eyes searching, she finds his and breathes forcefully through her nose.

“Hurts,” she huffs, and looks down at the bucket, vomiting again.

“Okay.”

He leaves the room briefly, and finds the painkillers, the little packet holding big promises.

Taking it to her, he punches one out into her hand, and then gives a glass of water.

She shakes her head.

Clint knows.

He always knows.

“Watch me.”

He pushes out another tiny tablet into his own hand and downs it with the water.

He hands it back, and motions for her to do the same.

In a state like this, he gets it, and his effort is rewarded by her copying his actions.

He just hopes she doesn’t throw it up.

Two tasks down, it’s just the shower and bed.

They can do this.

He can do this.

Removing the puke bucket from her hands, he tells her to stand.

She does without thinking.

He wants to get ice on her face to decrease the bruises, he wants to be in pyjamas, he wants this day to have never have happened.

“Does anywhere else hurt?”

The question is redundant, as she doesn’t answer or even acknowledge it.

“Okay, shower,” he murmurs.

“Socks off, pants off.”

He almost doesn’t expect anything to happen, but she moves at his request.

Clint nods.

He turns the shower on, the hottest it can go, hoping it can help heat the room.

Undressing alongside her, he winces at his his own wounds, the drop of gravel onto the floor makes him think he should probably clean it, just like he did for Natasha.

He ignores it.

The shower will help.

Steam fills the bathroom.

He doesn’t think.

She grabs him, breath caught in his throat.

“No,” she squeaks, “not…”

Gas

Her words get lost again, as scared childlike eyes stare at him to help.

Clint can’t move quickly, his muscles sore and tired. He gets to the fan, and switches it on, sucking up the steam and making the room loud.

“It’s okay,” he assures, “it’s nothing, it’s the shower.”

She sits back down, breathing heavily.

“It’s okay,” he says again, “it’s the shower.”

He gives her the glass of water, thinking maybe it will help to ground her, but this time, she can’t take it, hands gripping her thighs.

“Come on,” he sighs, “quick shower.”

She shakes her head.

“I can’t.”

Torn between pushing her and honouring her request, Clint sighs and gets in the shower, watching her through the glass.

He sees her, holding herself together, and he hurries himself as much as he can.

Feeling like he can’t move quickly enough, he hurts himself in his roughness.

He swears.

It’s enough for Natasha to stand and come to the glass to check on him.

Attempting a smile, he tries to reassure her.

He opens the door, to say something and she follows him in.

She looks at him.

Really looks this time, and raises her hand to his bruised face.

Water hits her arm and pink water streams down the skink.

“Such dangerous lives we lead,” he says softly.

She avoids water on her head and he lowers the shower head so he can control it.

He washes her gently, then she takes it off him and does the same.

Clint is thankful she’s coming back.

He sighs heavily, feeling the pain pulse in his leg, as she gently cleans it.

“Think it’s time for bed,” he murmurs.

She nods, switching off the shower.

He moves to open the door.

Pulling him into a hug, Natasha hopes she conveys everything in it.

For taking care of her.

For getting her home.

She leaves first, passing him a towel, and then one for herself.

It’s slow, the descent to bed.

Natasha cleans her vomit.

Clint wraps his leg.

He passes her some juice and she takes it gratefully.

Finally, bed.

He crawls in after her and feels himself sink into the mattress.

“Mm’sorry,” Natasha says into the darkness.

He moves his body closer to hers, and touches his feet to hers.

“What happened, Nat?” he wonders out loud.

“What made you… go?”

There’s nothing for a while.

She sucks in a breath.

“It hasn’t been like that in a while… I thought… I was worried,” he finishes.

She’s silent, trying to find the words.

“There’s a room, in the Red Room, I think it’s what it’s named for. They use it and release red gas; it makes you hallucinate your greatest fears. Today...” she pauses.

“It smelt the same.”

His body stiffens.

The gas, whilst not red, had been visible, the smell permeating the world as they escaped.

He understands.

“I get lost,” she whispers. “But I know what’s happening, it’s like words are too hard and even telling myself what I need to do takes all the brain power and focus, but the alternative is worse, if I let go, if I just give in and don’t do anything, I lose time.”

Clint reaches for her hand.

“Trauma changes shape, but doesn’t really leave, huh?”

Natasha scoffs, a low release of air.

“Isn’t that just the story of my life.”

She rolls to the side.

“Thanks for stitching my arm, and getting me home,” she whispers,

“I got you,” he whispers back.

He shuffles closer to her.

“Wake me, okay? When the dreams… arrive?”

Neither of them are stupid enough to believe that that dreams won’t come.

Natasha rests her head on his chest.

“Yeah,” she yawns.

“I’ll try.”

.

[mocha1662]

‘Mosh Pit’

(Human! Tate Langdon x Emo black fem reader)

(Summary: you decide to go out with friends to your favorite rock band, your enjoying yourself until you find yourself in the mosh pit. Where you meet Tate, who helps you out of the mess)

[CW: smut, fingering, making out, praising, Tate being super flirty, car sex. Fluff, a bit of blood from the rustle,2000s vibes, I personally do not know much about mosh pits so if it seems lame I’m sorry 😅. Enjoy! Oh! Also 1st person pov)

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮

I looked in the mirror as I puckered my lips touching up my lips and moved fixed my hair. I flipped open my flip phone as I answered the phone, “hey?”, I waited for an answer until I heard a loud whoop and giggles following, “We’re outside!!”, my best friend said as I grabbed my purse and Abercrombie jacket heading downstairs and out the door saying by to my older sibling, I rushed towards the metallic silver Honda Accord jumping in the crowded backseat shutting the cold behind me, which didn’t help much cause Carla’s didn’t have a working heater, I settled in my seat as I hugged my friends saying my hi’s as the car sped off, “How did you make your eyeliner that on point?”, I asked, as I admired my friend’s makeup as she checked her hand mirror using her iPod light as a light, “Clear tape is a lifesaver.”, I took a mental note as I popped in a piece of gum passing the pack around, “Do you think they’ll be any cute boys, there?”, I shrugged, “Maybe.”, I popped in my ear buds as I turned on my iPod listening to Deftones. When we made it we all hopped out and rushed into line pulling out our tickets as we got in line, while we waited a guy behind us accidentally bumped into me spilling a bit of his drink on me, I grumbled a bit as I quickly grabbed napkins from my friend patting down the wet spots as the man apologized profusely, “it’s okay, it’s okay.”, we got to the front of the line and went inside the large abandoned looking house hearing music boom throughout the house.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮

As we walked into the front door we were blinded by the bright flashing lights of the light monitors that flashed all over the place. “Let’s go get drinks!”, my friend yelled as we trailed behind her to the kitchen I ended grabbing a white claw moving into the base mate where they were rocking to a local band that Carla knew, we got the tickets for free cause she knew the leader of the band or at least hooked up with him at least. I tried to keep out of the way I could as I nodded my head to the band when I looked across the room making eye contact with a tall blonde white guy who raised his red solo cup towards with a smile. I nodded, smiling back as I turned back to the band. “Hey.” I looked to my left, seeing the guy from before now standing beside me, “oh, hey.” I said a bit startled, “I’ve never seen you here at any of the parties.”, I shrugged, “Came with friends, I don’t even know the band.”, he smirked as he stood beside me sipping from his cup. “I’m Tate.”, “Nice to meet you, Tate you can call me…Kat.”, he tilted his head, “Kat?”, I nodded, I knew better than to give my real name out especially to random boys at a party that always leads to either rumors or just trouble all around.

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ☆ ★ ✮

For a few minutes we sat in silence, rocking our heads to the various songs until I felt a hard shove making my body jolt I tried turning around until I was practically pushed to the ground making the things in my purse spill out, that’s when things got really crazy. A bunch of people started whooping and hollering as they started jumping around, I tried getting my things as people back into me trying to make room for the people in the pit until I felt a sharp pain in my shin. I yelped, finally grabbing my things and feeling a hand grip my arm pulling me up and wrapping their arms around me, “Yo! Can’t you see you almost trampled this poor thing?!”, Tate barked as he looked down at me with a worried look, “Let’s get out of here,yeah?”, he helped me out of the basement as I limped feeling the sharp pain in my shin get worse. We finally made it to the kitchen and Tate helped me onto the counter as he looked me over, he noticed my bloody shin as he frowned. “Shit, let me find something.”, he came back a few minutes later with a roll of bandages and wrapped it up for me. “I’m sorry, I didn’t get you fast enough I got pushed up against the wall when the ruckus started.”, I smiled and shook my head, “Don’t worry, it’s not your fault. Just stupid people.” We looked at each other for a sec and both chuckled, I looked at him for a second as he stood closer to me with a smile. “You’re kind of cute.”, I said flatly as I watched his face turn a light pink tint, “Really? Cute enough to kiss?”, I giggled as I grabbed his face kissing him softly as he gripped my hips, we began kissing more passionately as I pulled his closer gripping his green sweater, he broke off the kiss moving down to my neck as he nipped and sucked at the sensitive part of my neck. We honestly, probably would’ve continued until we were interrupted by a group of giggles coming from the living room, I looked over to see my friends staring as I felt myself get embarrassed. “How about we go to somewhere more private?”, I asked and he nodded, we made our way outside and he guided me to his car which I was hesitate, “Trust, I ain’t gonna kidnap you.”, he said assuringly, I bit my tongue hoping he was being truthful. Once, in the car, Tate snaked his cold hands under my shirt and he kissed my neck as I laid back in the seat. “You’re so cute, Kat.”, he said gruffly as I let out a soft moan kissing him while he palmed my left tit sloppily making out with me, he unbuckled his pants while he palmed himself through his underwear looking at me, “Don’t worry, i-I can’t slow down.”, I shook my head a bit embarrassed, “No,no your just-“, I was cut off by letting out a loud moan as he began pumping his fingers in and out of my cunt as he played with my nipples. Tate soon stopped as he lined himself up, “Ready, beautiful?”, I nodded as I braced myself. He started rocking his hips slowly as I gripped my arms around his back gasping with each thrust, “You feel so good, doll. You’re taking it so well.”, he picked up the pace as i started clawing into his clothes, “I-I’m close!”, I whined as he began kissing my neck not slowing down the pace. I felt the knot in my stomach release as I came I could hear Tate groan as he pumped a few more times pulling out himself. I sat in my blissful state as Tate buckled his pants kissing my forehead, he helped me get dressed as he started up the car to warm it up. “You did amazing.”, he said charmingly, I smiled as I kissed his jawline cuddling into his chest, “So, wanna continue this at my place?”, I let out a breathless chuckle, “Maybe not, but I can give you my number?”, “Maybe your real name too?”, I looked at him shock, “What makes you think that’s not my real name?”, “Doesn’t fit you.”, I rolled my eyes smiling. “Maybe, you should take me out first before you get all that.”, he kissed the top of my head. “I don’t mind that.”

[spynorth]

little health update under the cut bc it is going to affect my activity levels both writing wise and ooc. mention of heavy subjects so. you don't have to read <3

so as some may remember from my hook blog, i got super sick in late 2021. It carried over into '22 and eventually led to me finally getting a lot of bloodwork, x rays, an echocardiogram .. literally all kinds of things. the only thing anyone could tell me was i was definitely sick and it was probably something 'minor' (i'm using that term so loosely) like a disorder or something that was no big deal. I've gone in for frequent labwork and things keep getting worse. It was actually my psychiatrist (not my gp. what a shock :| ) who looked closer and referred me to a hematologist oncologist. Sadly, the trend in my blood is getting worse. Despite meds, everything that should be going higher is still getting lower and everything that should be getting lower is going way higher. I got a test back yesterday and I more than likely am going to have to have a bone marrow biopsy (which. don't look that up. fuck.). They are thinking i have Primary Polycythemia which is a rare disorder (for my age group) classified as a blood cancer (again. perfect. not escaping the word lmao) since it involves mutated cells inside the bone marrow fucking up and going on the fritz. Thankfully, I have the best oncologist in the world and she's very thorough and though there are outliers .. survival rate if you get treatment is 14-24 years. That's not bad. It's 14-24 years of chemo rounds and blood transfusions and sometimes removing the equivalent of a blood donation every 2-3 days in the worst case scenarios but like .. you're not dead. so. i think that evens out. The unfortunate thing is survival is 1.5-3 years if untreated/treated improperly and I'm at 1.5 years since everything started. I have headaches, blurred vision, exhaustion, aches, bruising, incessant itching, constant nausea and I'm overheated like all the fucking time. poor hunter is always wrapped in blankets because when we turn the heater on it becomes unbearable for me. My blood pressure sucks for the first time ever in my entire life (I've gone from 109/60 to 150/100 this past friday) and when it pounds in my temples, it's hard to write. and to top it all off, my platelets are so damn high thanks to my bone marrow being fucked up and overproducing that I have to constantly worry about a stroke or embolism or something else just as sinister. So, hopefully, the plan is to get this show on the road and alleviate a lot of things and reverse what's been done.

My point in this is that I'm tired. I want to do things that sometimes my body won't let me do. I have moments where the little box in the corner of my mind I've stored everything in opens and I panic a bit. Am I gonna be grumpy sometimes? fuck yes. I'm not magic. Everyone has bad days/bad moods and you add stuff like this and sometimes i just want to punch things. so i ask for patience. both in replies and ooc communication. I want to talk to all of you. I want to hear about everything same as always, but sometimes I just don't have the energy to reply as quickly as I once did. throughout this whole thing, tumblr/writing has sort of been my getaway because its an escape that I can do while house bound .. and there's this little tiny part of my brain that keeps saying if I'm not active on the dash or making people laugh as much, that I'll fade away and be forgotten about. so i'm just asking that people please not let that be the case. i love you all <3

[neoatlantiscodex]

Neo-Atlantis Codex: Part III: Grid Storage

So, you want to use some unstable form of power. Wind and Solar are the biggest ones, but we could also add tidal and microhydro to the list.

Currently, 95% of grid power storage, world wide, is pumped hydro. This is in theorygood, as it does work. The problem is that regions that can use pumped hydro will typically have geography to use regular hydro, which is very, very, very efficient. But you can add pumped hydro to an existing system.

For home power storage, we use chemical cells. Typically Lithium. By current estimates, we do not have enough lithium and cobalt in the world to replace our cars, nevermind the entire grid. A lot of the mining is also done by child slaves in Africa. They also use water leeching, which works. but also uses a LOT of fresh water. It's often done in deserts, in which fresh water is the most precious thing you can have.

Lithium is also EXTREMELY flammable.

What about other chemicals? Well, we can make chemical cells out of salt water and iron. This used to require a pump, and which made it hard to miniaturize. Anything mechanical is also prone to mechanical breakdown. They have recently developed technology to elimitate the use of pumps. It's still not good for grid storage, but would be good for home power storage. It might make sense to move to a paradigm that the state provides power when it can, and homes had to store their own power. This would work, although it would require a complete change of our paradigm, and would be expensive for the poor. Which is the problem for anything to do with power, as any increase in energy cost punishes the poor, and will drop people into poverty. It will also kill off the vulnerable.

Earth Batteries. You take something with a high durability and heat capacity, like earth, stone, brick, etc. You put it inside an insulated shell. You have a heater inside. Power added from the outside becomes heat inside. The heat can be kept for a week without too much loss. You can either use this directly for heat, or use it to heat water into steam. Doing so would allow it to produce electricity. This is suitable for neighbourhoods or industrial applications. The problem with a steam engine is that you would likely need a steam engineer, which are expensive. It would also require individual neighbourhoods to be self-governing villages/shires, which would help with so many other problems. We'll talk about this later in Neo-Atlantis government/electoral system. This would reduce the work required from other parts of the power system, and in theory, in some areas, these neighbourhoods/villages/shires/wards could be entirely self-generating. If California could shed it's horrifying Fascist control, it has more than enough sunlight that individual neighbourhoods could be self-generating if it could store the power. This would also prevent blackouts. Everytime I look back, it gets further way, but in 2003, the entire Eastern side of Canada, and the New England had a power outage. Because of how connected the grids are. Independent neighbourhood production would completely eliminated this. If you had a tree down over the power lines, it would hurt at most, one neighbourhood.

Compressed air storage. The best usage of this is, funny enough, CO2. You have a giant balloon, kind of an expanding membrane. You hook it up to a pump and a turbine and heat exchanger. Power causes the pump to pump the CO2 from the balloon into the tank. You release CO2 from the tank through the turbine, and it produces power. The big drawback for this is that it requires a lot of space. Which makes it perfect for isolated solar / wind power plants. This also requires nothing in the way of novel technology, and is perfect for large grid storage.

Hydrogen. Contrary to expectations, hydrogen fuel cells never went away. Both Toyota and Hyundai have production Hydrogen fuel cell cars. Hydrogen combustion cars are also perfectly viable, if not currently commencial. Hydrogen can be produced from water through electrolysis, though not efficiently so. It can be produced mechanically from natural gas / methane; the mechanical converters use a portion of the power they produce to power themselves. Before the government were... what?.. afraid the fuel cells might actualy work? I'm old enough to remember the promise of a Hydrogen Highway from California to British Columbia to allow you to drive hydrogen fuel cell cars up and down the coast. Well, they forgot about that. Before this happened, there was a research group that made it with algae in glass tubes. All you needed to do was pump water through them. People in California could probably add it to a closed system in their car.

Synthetic Fuel. Synthetic fuel has been used, in a small scale, in racing for years. Formula 1 is also planning to replace it's entire usage with synthetic fuel in the future, apparently from atmospheric carbon dioxide and wind power. This would have the advantage of requiring no time or money to implement. It would use our existing fuel infrastructure, while also allowing the small producers to be created everywhere.

[bukitanukiart]

Solubivnus: a day of chaos

Today has been potentially the most eventful day of my life, so I'm going to hype it up as such.

To preface the story (and title), I live with 5 roommates, and we have a calendar in our kitchen for communal events, and written on today (May 25th) was the phrase "solubivnus atfakoji".

This has been here since the beginning of the month, and frankly, none of us know who wrote it, or what it's supposed to mean/actually say, so for the whole month, we've been hyping up today as a joke, even deciding to have a big dinner as "celebration" for solubivnus.

But starting about a week ago, we've been having issues in our house, mainly the fact that our water heater wasn't working, and any attempts to contact our landlord failed, so today we took our anxious asses over to their residence services to actually help us. Thankfully, they listened to our begging and sent over our saviour: Kyle. Kyle has saved us many times before, we adore this man, I would die for Kyle.  So over Kyle comes in record time and takes a look at the heater and was like “yeah, that’s weird” and calls over a plumber to take a closer look, so off Kyle goes, and about 20ish minutes later, the plumbers come by and just say “oh yeah, Your gas got shut off, call your gas company.” and the 5 of us that were home look at each other because, why is our gas off? we've payed the bill on time since we’ve moved in?  and then we remembered something very important.  remember how our hot water went out about a week ago? yeah, the day before, we had seen a man in our backyard with a jacket that read “Meter reader”. we didn't see him do anything, just the tail end of him being in our yard and going on his merry way. we thought it was weird as fuck, but he didn't do anything so we just ignored it.  except he did do something...

he turned off our gas and we didn't even notice.  so I call the stupid gas company, and say “yo, why is our gas off?” and the poor guy on the other side of the line is like “off? its not, your file says your fine, I can send someone over to check it out though. 45 Road st right?” and I pause. “no” I say “I live at 54 Road st” and there was another pause. “your file says 45″. I feel a sense of dread as I look at my account details. there it was. 45 Road st. “Oh god. have I been paying someone else’s gas bill?” and my man on the other side lets out a small “I think so...” so for almost a year, our dumb asses have been footing a random strangers bill. and you might be thinking, Buki, how the fuck did you not notice this? how come they didn't shut it off 3 months in? well my friend, I live in the north, where its illegal to shut off gas during the cold months as it supplies heating, and wouldn't you know it? our lease started 2 months before the cold months. and so I wait on hold, trying to get this all figured out and eventually get told “we can transfer all your payments to a new account for your correct address and hook you back up to gas, it’ll be done in... around 20 days.” and I'm like “what the fuck, I cannot go without hot water for another 20 days, is there anything you can do?” and then I get put on hold again. 

when I finally hear from this guy again, I'm told “okay yeah, we can hook you back up sometime between 6 - 8 pm tonight, you'll still have to wait for someone to call you in 20 days for the account changes though” and tbh, that's cool man, thats fine, I just cant go a total of a whole month without hot water.  and once I hang up the waiting game is played again. by the time we hear from this guy, we we’re ready to sit down for our solubivnus dinner.  it was 5 min to 8 when we hear a knock, and we think “oh god, its finally over” as this guy hooks our gas back up and sets up our water heater and leaves.  we have a nice dinner, hanging out until 10pm It’s finally over.

except it’s not. we go downstairs and what do we see? our water heater spewing water all over our basement floor. and we panic naturally. so here we are, filling buckets with the coming onslaught of water as I panic call the emergency line for our rental company, and let me tell you that was the longest phone call of my life. finally they say they’ll send someone over, I say “great, please hurry” and not even 10 minutes later our saviour returns. Kyle.  my man Kyle comes to the rescue and turns the water off, looking at the mess to try and figure out what's wrong before calling us another plumber, these ones coming in 45 min. and when they come, what are we told? “yeah, we’ll have to replace the whole thing tomorrow.”  and that's where we are now. 

what an eventful solubivnus.

[georgebanton]

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[beowulf22121]

Anyone remember the washing machine that was sending something like 3 gigs of data a day back to the manufacturer? Just all kinds of data about the people on the local wifi.

Or how about the casino that got hacked through the fishtank heater because it had poor security and was connected to the main network with permissions that got it around the firewall. Remember that? They had a lot of plaintext client information sent somewhere.

Not to mention if my heat/AC is connected to the wifi and isn't as secure as I think it is, every time I leave my house the neighborhood clown has the potential to do something they think is hilarious that'll cost me all kinds of money.

Imagine that.

Lets say your fridge has security a 13 year old can work their way around. Know what 13 year olds think is funny? Anything that inconveniences you. While you're out at work they've turned off your fridge and silenced any alerts it's supposed to send out. But that's okay because they turned your home AC down to fridge temperature. And since your washing machine is hooked up, instead of the nice chime it played when you got it, now every time a load is done you get to hear screaming goat.

[deoxygenated]

had a dream i was venturing through a great forest with a group of people. we were following a particular person who knew the way.

upon reaching civilization we split up and the group i was in was now just a trio. the guide, my friend, and me.

the guide did a flourish and introduced us to her hometown. Enhou, China.

The city was beautiful, like a gentle mishmash of modern buildings and plants making small alleyways. A habitable self made maze.

We followed out guide deeper into Enhou as we arranged to stay at her house. Another group member found us and tagged along.

Arriving to a nondescript building in the fork between a road, we were led up into its also maze like interior. Hastily but lovingly tiled paths. We stopped before 2 apartment doors for a bit. Our guide knocked and spoke with the residents inside. The guy tagging along got distracted by this and I could see the guide gesture to leave while he spoke with them.

We are glad to be rid of the guy bc he was really fucking annoying. But I can tell the guide wanted to leave me behind as well. Only wanted my friend.

Going further up into the building we find a courtyard? mezzanine? With 2 more doors here.

We lay out blankets in this courtyard and set up to sleep here. Guide engages the friend in conversation while i pull out my journal to write.

I don't remember exactly what happens next but we find out that the residential part of this building is complicated not only because of Enhou architecture but it's built around a laboratory. Our guide's mother works there. And there is serious interpersonal issues causes by the fact that the guide's mother is a slightly modified clone of some dude.

----------------

The next dream starts in a large area, built around a waterway at what might be the bottom of a canyon.

I am close to the leadership here so I am appointed in accompanying this visiting important girl. But she's nice and I find us making an actual bond of friendship.

Things happen and we find her adoptive father/butler is super sick. We have him set up with the best of our medical knowledge and I go to visit him. The butler's wife is weeping sadly by his side and a power outage happens.

I'm worried about him so I run the bath he's sitting in, happy that the water heater runs on gas instead. I get this poor comatose man in a hot bath and leave him with his wife watching. I go to investigate the electricity but it comes back as im on my way.

So I turn around to check on him again. The EKG and other machines are all flatlined now and the wife is gone. No where to be seen as her husband floats in the bath.

He looks peaceful, if I'm sure he wasn't dead. I pull him to the back wall of the tub and stick my hands in his armpits, hooking my thumbs up into the tender flesh. I can see his face closely. He really would be asleep if not for the fact that I can't feel his pulse at all.

The young lady finds us like this and before I can react, gasps and runs off.

Then a timeskip happens. I had followed the young lady to her home and was welcomed. Though she was trapped here. Turns out she wasn't supposed to have left and they consider it her fault that the servant she cherished was killed.

So the young lady and I plan an escape back to my home. We have different abilities but should be able to keep up with each other.

Getting through the castle itself is easy but its the exterior and moat that would be hard. A large fortress of dark grey stone surrounded by a deep, swampy moat.

We manage to find an exit to a side entrance. On a patch of land before the moat starts. She takes off with her enhanced stealth abilities and as I have a more physical form it'll be harder for me to follow.

I do get out far but end up running into a guard robot. It's vaguely hound shaped if hounds were made of triangular welded red beams and also twice as high. I feel insulted and drop down into the bushes to try and escape notice.

I do but a guy on the walls spots me instead. I book it and see a jetski parked nearby. Bright red, it kind of screams trap but I have to.

So I zoom off into the water and it's fast enough that I catch up to her. I let her know we'be been spotted. We gun it and race through the moat heading for a building on the other shore. However its quite far from us the long way as well but it'll lead to a passage where we can get lost in town.

In the water we dodge large nets containing water beasts her family has raised and also shrimp farms. They take up large circles with a path only big enough for one at a time so we have to ensure we don't crash while pulling off high speed turns.

It's several of these before we finally arrive at the building. It's big and brutalist and we make our way in. I see a path and I lift up the young lady to take it, hoping she can pull me up with her weak arms- but a wall slides closed separating us.

I feel a chill down my spine and look behind me and up. On the roof I see the lord of the vampires, his thick goth boots, and unmistakable cloak. I book it going downwards and then out a doorway I find there. I round a corner into a garage which has a hall I follow into a brutalist staircase.

As I climb I see the vampire lord again, the young lady's true father, and I taunt him with something about his funeral.

He gives chase and we end up amongst the rooftops. As he's after me I'm dodging without much care. He can't kill me as I'm important to the werewolves so is trying for capture.

We run and I pull off these strange purple tiles leaking some kind of energy I can detect. Just 2 tiles every so often. Once I have about 10 of them I stop.

I look over to the lord who seems befuddled.

'That wasn't the real Serenata, here.' I hand him the tiles. 'The magic is drained but it should have enough traces for you to tell.'

It turns out I knew the young lady I'd been with here wasn't the real one the whole time. But I didn't have the resources to interrogate the imposter without issue so I provoked this capture so the vampires would do it for me.

The purple tiles sustain the imposter's disguise spell which is why, I explained, she pretended to want to rest in the city before entering the castle. So it would be reinforced.

Now the disguise would fall and the vampires on her tail would be less reluctant to capture. We haven't seen the real Serenata since she ran off at her butler's death.

[buggie-hagen]

Sermon for Third Sunday after Epiphany (1/21/24)

Primary Text | Mark 1:14-20

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Dear People of God,

My dad’s a big fisher, my brother too. A love for fishing is a trait that I did not inherit. Though I did go fishing with my dad and brother growing up. I don’t know if they have it out here, but back where I grew up, in Wisconsin, it’s a big deal to go ice fishing. If you have it, you pick up your ice shack, and you put it up on the frozen lake or river that you want to fish out of. You may then set up your heater (if you got one). Then you drill a hole into the ice and fish away. Now, these fish, they’re just going about their ordinary lives. They come to you hungry. They are not expecting the lure to shake up life as they know it. In my life, the fish I’ve met are stubborn. They like to stay in the water. It’s comfortable. It’s what they know. They don’t like to be yanked out of it! And who can’t relate to these poor fish? We are, each of us, remarkably similar to these fish.  We enjoy the currents we already know. We are perfectly comfortable under the water. We like swimming through life knowing what to expect and where we are going. And we too, do not expect the call of the word to hook us, to pull us up out of the ice, and change us completely. To his first followers, Simon and Andrew, Jesus said, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people” (Mk. 1:17). So the God we have in Jesus Christ is a fisher and we are his fish.

We like our life as it is—self-determining our own priorities, our own view of things, and how the world should operate. Thing is, we are underwater. We can’t break through the surface of the ice. Swimming on our own we don’t know how things actually are above the surface. You and I were minding our own business when God put his lure out for the catch. The difference between God and an ordinary fisherman is that God knows who he will catch and when he will make the catch. He never fails to catch whom he chooses. The fish have no idea they are about to be yanked out of the water. We have no idea when God is about to yank us out of the water. But yank God does! Apart from our own conceptions, God breaks the ice and nets us out. Jesus’ first sermon is brief and simple, “The kingdom of God is at hand. Be changed! And believe in the gospel!” (Mk. 1:15). And with that little, seemingly insignificant worm of a lure, the word is cast, and God goes fishing for people. The lure God uses seems so insignificant. Can it really catch so many fish? By all appearances, it’s just words: “The kingdom of God is at hand. Be changed, and believe in the gospel.” But here’s the thing about words when they are words that come from God. When these particular words are spoken they become holy—meaning God has put himself into the words—and therefore God has put himself into the mouth of whoever speaks this word that belongs to him. Then it was Simon and Andrew, James and John. But now God has entrusted you and I with this same holy word. The word, which is always doing something, is not when we simply speak about God. Instead, God has us speak for him with the word. To the world. And it is this word that will not return to him empty.

And specifically, the word of Christ as the gospel of God. The kingdom of God is at hand, be changed, and believe in the gospel. To be changed means that God has hooked us in with the lure and yanked us out of the water, and collected us in his net. By doing so he changes us. He has us leave what is familiar and how we want things to go about. And he introduces us to a new world—a world he calls his kingdom. A world that is above water. If he had left the choice up to you or me we would have wanted to have kept following the current rather than follow the Lord. We fish, we sure are a stubborn lot. Once hooked, we put up a good fight. We want to stay in the water. But God is, to put it simply, more stubborn. Once God has you hooked on the line, he will not let up. God will finish what he has begun in you. The first followers of Jesus were literally fishermen. He turned them from their ordinary occupation to a new one. This time, they fish for people. And God has provided them with the means to do the fishing. The church gathers in God’s ice shack. The lure and the net is the word of God. With the first followers of Jesus, we are now not only the fish but are made the fishers. (pause) Now to not only talk about God, but to talk on God’s behalf I need to speak a particular way to you. Dear people, God’s kingdom is at hand. There is no distance between you and this kingdom. Because it is now. Right now. Right here. And here is God’s lure—the net that has caught you—by the authority of Jesus Christ, I forgive your sins, all of them. Also, God’s hook has been in you since your baptism. In it he has pulled you up out of the icy water, and there, on a daily basis, you are changed from death to life, from captivity to freedom, from hell to heaven, from despair to glee. The kingdom of God is at hand; therefore, Christ has made you one of his own. With God’s word before you, you are changed. A new life is given you. And you, from death to life, can breathe out of the water.

[suntoru]

𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒’𝚖 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝚙𝚝. 𝟸

⤷ feat. various bnha men.

synopsis: spending halloween with them and couples costumes &lt;3

back to flufftober masterlist | part 1.

warnings: fluff, a sprinkle of curses, established relationships, some are costumes are based on female characters, some are based on official art

denki kaminari.

⤷ your couples costume… a devil and an angel!

he insists he’s an incubus, but clearly, the costume package says ‘devil cosplay’ on it. you’re his pretty innocent angel, the polar opposite of him, yet somehow ended up together. he tries to ‘seduce’ you multiple times, but to nobody’s surprise, it doesn’t work. he pouts about it for a bit, and you laugh because he’s so cute. he eventually gives up being petty to cuddle you, but little does he know you’re recording him, and about to post his little temper tantrum on tiktok.

⤷ your halloween event… haunted house!

denki’s plan was to go to a haunted house so that you would end up scared and cling on to him for the entire night. well, unfortunately, that plan has backfired, because he chose the scariest one and ends up terrified himself. “y/n…” he whines, trying to drag you to the exit, but you don’t let him off the hook that easily. little does he know that you overheard him bragging to his friends about how you were going to cling onto him for dear life, now it seems that you have the upper hand.

hitoshi shinsou.

⤷ your couples costume… cats!

yeah… i guess this one is pretty obvious. i don’t think hitoshi would really dress up unless you begged him to under his circumstances. so, this year, you’re both kitty cats! his two most favourite things in the world combined, he might as well just combust. he’s the right amount of ridiculous and cute, the tail and ears match the lavender of his hair. he snaps a couple of photos of you when you’re not looking and saves them all, but it’s not his fault when you look so precious :((((

⤷ your halloween event… scary movies!

what? you already got him to dress up in front of everyone, he needs some time to recharge with his baby. all cuddled up together on a couch, the heaters being blasted, you both snack on your favourite candies as you watch all of your halloween favourites together. even with the spooky movies on, the aura is calm and peaceful as you turn around to look at shinsou. you giggle when you see him staring right back at you, a dark pink coating his face when he realizes he’s been caught.

tamaki amajiki.

⤷ your halloween costume… a mummy and cleopatra!

for your halloween costumes, you choose to be bundled up in the cutest way possible. tamaki’s a shy little mummy, but still manages to be one of the most adorable people there. he’s hiding behind you, trying to not get noticed as you reassure him that it’ll be fine. but as soon as he sees what you’re dressed up as, he turns tomato red. he squeaks in surprise, but has nowhere to hide since his wall is the thing that’s making him even more nervous by the second, poor baby.

⤷ your halloween event… hayride!

holding pinkies while talking getting the chance to catch up in the back of a tractor is tamaki’s dream way of spending this halloween. the best part is that you’re by yourself, no prying eyes taking him away from you. it’s the most at peace he’s been at for all of october. it may not be everyone’s ideal way to spend time with their s/o, but keep in mind, if it were anyone else, he would have sat at opposing ends just to avoid small talk. but you’re not just anyone else, you’re y/n. and y/n feels like home.

dabi.

⤷ your halloween costume… skeleton jack and sally!

you’re probably gonna have to beg harder than you ever have in your life. bring out the puppy dog eyes, the clinginess, and the bribery. he’ll gaslight you into thinking he’s not going to wear a costume, but at the last second, he’ll throw on the costume you bought him. looking in the mirror, he’s wondering how you got such a fucking tight grip on him. but once he steps out and sees the absolute joy written all over your face, he’s reminded why he does stupid shit like this.

⤷ your halloween event… terrorizing citizens!

who said halloween with dabi would be normal? certainly not here. today, you go around scaring adults, sending them shrieking as you both giggle like two clowns. sure it’s childish, but what’s wrong with that? you prank all the citizens including the lov, where shigaraki curses at you two for hacking into his pc and making him spill his drink on the expensive console. you’re running away, shrieking apologies as he’s chasing after you. that’s okay though, you can always steal another one!

hawks.

⤷ your halloween costume… maids!

…yeah, you both lost a bet to each other. but that’s okay, because now you can rock this very embarrassing look together! the black and white fluffy dress, hairpiece, stockings, and shoes all come with the costume. it’s not exactly fair on your part though, not when keigo looks so good in a dress. he probably does everything for this look, wearing custom-made heels with you. you may look stupid, but hey, at least you look stupidly cute together.

⤷ your halloween event… halloween party!

embarrassingly enough, you’re wearing this outfit to the halloween pro-hero event. the moment you arrive at the scene, the cameras start to flash brightly at the both of you. but don’t let the paparazzi ruin your good time. you share a drink with your best friends, talk with other heroes, and share a dance with keigo! with the halloween themed music playing in the background, you kiss him on the lips. he tastes like pumpkin pie and candy corn. oh boy, you’ll have to deal with his sugar rush at home.