#but the search function is messing up so bad

[halfelven]

hii did you ever write a little fic about frodo and galadriel (and elrond i think) sailing to valinor, ive been thinking about it nonstop and the style was similar to yours? also i want you to know that everything you write goes straight to my heart have a lovely day :)

hi and thank you! 💗 i have written something about frodo sailing to valinor that has galadriel and elrond both in it. i hope this is what you were looking for! (and thank you so much for such a beautiful compliment and i hope you also have a very lovely day 💗💗💗)

[lilreidgirl]

Perfect

Summary: You`re insecure and your boyfriend, Spencer, thinks the absolute world of you, he trys everything to make you see what he sees.

Warnings: fem!reader, insecure reader, bad body image, comparing to fictional charecters, kissing, hurt/comfort?, not proof read, if i forgot anything; let me know, English is not my first language

WC: ~1k

A/N: I won`t be posting for about the next two weeks cause i have three exams, once exam season finally ends, Ill be able to post my many ideas that just seem to keep on coming. Until then, here`s a short Spence hurt/comfort fic MWAH

Perfect.

A word that feels as foreign to me as an alien language. It’s something I’m definitely not. No one is perfect, of course. But I feel like I’m standing several miles farther from it than most.

Spencer calls me a lot of things: beautiful, pretty, cute, smart, hot, exquisite, funny, tantalizing, sexy, insatiable. The list is endless. If it’s complimentary, he’s said it at some point.

Except perfect.

Spencer is a man of science and logic, and logic dictates that perfection doesn’t exist. It’s an unattainable ideal, a concept too flawless to have a place in a messy world like ours. And yet, standing next to him—this near-perfect person—I feel the ache of falling so much shorter than the mark.

There are people, though, who seem to come dangerously close.

One of the many things I love about Spencer is his love for books. He reads endlessly, often with the same devotion he gives to solving puzzles or understanding the human mind. He’ll bury himself in stories until his eyes droop, refusing to let fatigue stop him from finishing just one more chapter. And I know the women in those books, how they’re described: Silky hair, impossibly soft skin, hypnotic eyes, lips meant to be kissed, figures sculpted to perfection, and smiles bright enough to light up the darkest corners.

That’s what perfection looks like, isn’t it?

It’s certainly not me.

I see myself every day in the mirror. No silky hair here—just strands that seem to have their own rebellious personality, refusing to fall in place no matter what I do. My skin? Far from flawless. My eyes? Ordinary, nothing mesmerizing about them. My lips are… lips. Not the kind poets write about. My body? Just a body. Functional. Unremarkable. My smile doesn’t light up rooms; at most, it’s enough to convey, Hi, I’m friendly, please don’t ask me for directions.

Yet somehow, here I am, dating Spencer Reid—a man who feels carved by the hands of something divine. It’s almost painful, how unfairly beautiful he is. I’ve searched for his flaws, scoured every inch of his personality, his quirks, his habits. Nothing. If they’re there, they’re too small for me to see. He’s just… him. Perfect in all the ways that I’m not.

Two soft knocks on the door break me out of my spiraling thoughts. They’re gentle yet deliberate, spaced so perfectly it feels like they were timed with precision. Of course, they were. This is Spencer we’re talking about. Even his knocks are perfect.

I drag myself toward the door, feeling the weight of my imperfections in every step. My fingers fidget with the hem of my sweater as I go. It’s oversized and rumpled, the fabric hanging well past my wrists. My sweatpants cling stubbornly to my thighs but sag around my ankles. I’m a mess, right down to the fluffy socks that glide across the floor I haven’t bothered to clean in three weeks.

When I open the door, the sight of him steals my breath as it always does. Spencer.

His hair is perfectly disheveled, a chaotic tumble of curls that somehow looks intentional. His features are sharp, striking, and utterly unfair. His eyes hold the kind of depth that makes you feel like he sees every part of you, even the parts you’d rather keep hidden.

“Hi,” he says, his voice soft and warm, and that smile—the one that makes me feel like I’m standing in the sun—graces his lips.

“Hey,” I manage, though my voice feels embarrassingly small in comparison.

“I missed you so much,” he says, stepping inside before I can respond. His arms wrap around my waist, pulling me into a hug that feels like home. He lifts me slightly, spinning us in a slow circle, and I can’t help but laugh softly at the gesture.

“Me too,” I whisper, the words barely audible as my lips brush against his neck. When he sets me down, I press a kiss to his lips. It’s brief but firm, enough to feel the spark between us ignite.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his dark eyes roaming my face. His pupils are wide, the dim light of my apartment making them expand until they almost swallow the brown of his irises. He looks at me like I’m something precious, something worth studying and memorizing.

“God,” he breathes, his voice low and filled with something I can’t quite name. “You’re perfect.”

The air leaves my lungs. For a moment, it feels like the world has tilted on its axis. I open my mouth to respond, but the words won’t come. My thoughts are spinning, but all I can focus on is him, standing here, calling me perfect.

Could perfection exist after all? Maybe it does. Maybe it’s right here in front of me, holding me, looking at me like I’m something extraordinary.

Or maybe perfection isn’t about appearances. Maybe it’s about this feeling—this warmth that spreads through me whenever Spencer is near. Maybe it’s about the way he sees me, flaws and all, and still calls me something I never thought I could be.

Perfect. That’s him.

Perfect. The word he used to describe me.

Perfect. The way I feel, despite my imperfections, whenever I’m with him.

I blink back the tears threatening to spill, a soft laugh escaping my lips as I finally find my voice. “Mm… so are you,” I whisper, leaning into him as his arms tighten around me.

And in that moment, I believe it. I believe that maybe, just maybe, perfection isn’t about being flawless. Maybe it’s about being loved by someone who makes you feel like you are.

@emma-e-a

[melosliving]

kelvin harrison jr x pregnant!reader

warning : overly cuuute husband kelvin (I need him)

husband!kelvin who knew he wanted you to be the mother of his kids after y’all kissed for the first time.

husband!kelvin who couldn’t help but smile every time he would see you running towards every kid you would see at a family function.

husband!kelvin who chokes with either his drink or his spit when asked about a baby with you.

"Damn you be in my business ?"

"Well.."

"Don’t do that." he would laugh.

husband!kelvin who overtime develops the cute habit of caressing your belly when cuddling with you before sleeping.

husband!kelvin who annoyingly starts to sing random lullabies, which leads to you being pissed off because the songs are now stuck in your head.

husband!kelvin who quietly snaps pictures of you each time you find yourself with a baby in your arms, gushing about how beautiful you look.

bestie!aaron who tells kelvin he has a baby fever, which makes him wonder if you actually wanted to have kids with him.

"bro, look how cute she looks !" he said, showing aaron a picture of you holding your cousin’s son.

"you would make cute babies, that’s for sure."

"huh ?" he asked, dumbfounded. "you think she wants to have kids with me ?" he seriously asked aaron.

"brother, I don’t think she would’ve accepted to get married to you if she didn’t want your babies." aaron simply answers.

"You right ! hum.. baby ?" kelvin said, now searching for you.

husband!kelvin who when he finally finds you in the kitchen, feeding one of your brother’s kid, definitely knows he wants to have kids with you. Now.

"you would make the best mother, you know that baby ?" he says, coming behind you while circling his arms around you.

pregnant!reader who is a mess after actually finding out she was indeed pregnant and immediately calls Kelvin’s mom.

husband!kelvin who laughed in your sister’s face when she congratulated him, not knowing he didn’t know you were pregnant.

husband!kelvin who cries in your arms when you told him you were pregnant. He never let you go after that.

husband!kelvin who decided to buy a camera and record every little thing you would do. From the first sonogram, to the first clothes you bought for the baby, etc.. at every end of the day he would film himself saying good night to the baby.

"okay, so today we’re finding out if you’re a boy or a girl ! What are you thinking mama ?" He says, turning the camera so you would be seen on the screen.

Sitting pretty in the passenger seat, you put your sunglasses on, smiling. "I think it is a girl," you say, caressing your 4 month belly. "I do too actually !" Kelvin nodded.

husband!kelvin who can help but feel bad for you every time you would throw up and crave weird things such as ice with pickles (wtfff) but would nonetheless give you anything you desire.

husband!kelvin who can’t help but worship the ground you walk on everyday. His eyes would glisten each time he would see you wear whatever that made your pretty bump visible.

"smile for the camera mama !" he would say.

soon-to-be-father!kelvin who would jump out of the bed when you told him that your water broke, freaking out already.

soon-to-be-father!kelvin who holds your hand through it all, looking at you with concern as he watched your face contorting in pain. he would do anything to ease your pain : ice chips ? He got you. Hand ? Take it. Need him close ? he would do anything to be in your skin.

Soon-to-be-father!kelvin who is so proud of you for going through all of this and handling it like the champ you are !

"You’re doing so good baby, I’m so proud of you." He would whispered in your ear, still holding your hand. He would then kiss your forehead as you pushed. "c’mon you got it, the baby is almost here mama."

Soon-to-be-father!kelvin who would be nosy as hell, trying to see the baby coming out of you in live, almost pushing the doctor and nurses just so he could see.

girl dad!kelvin who waited a whole 9 months to be able to sing to you "your pum pum bring life ! your tight pum pum bring life !" While holding y’all daughter.

"You’ve got so much hair my love ! Yeah, you’re so pretty.."

@ melosliving 2025

[shaykai]

Okay okay okay consider Durgetash tether AU

Gortash & Durge are messing around with an artifact (from Mephistopheles’ vault?) and it ends up tethering them together (like Legend of Spyro- they can only move so far away from each other and the tether isn’t visible unless it’s actively being strained or interacted with)

They can’t figure out how to deactivate it, antics ensue (they can’t hurt each other while it’s active?)

Gortash has to put up with Durge being present in all of his meetings and just praying to god they behave themselves and don’t try to maim anybody/that nobody takes too much interest in their presence

There’s also the Urge- Gortash knows about it but now he actively has to help in dealing with it- whether that be going on murder sprees far too often for his liking or finding out the unfortunate consequences of neglecting it

Them getting weirdly close and open because they kind of have to be to function

Neither of them have easy access into their respective cult spaces/temples anymore- bringing a Banite into Bhaal’s temple is basically a heresy.

That being said, Durge can only stay away for so long before it’s problematic- it looks bad when they’ve been missing for a week and the last time they were seen was with Gortash.

Jump cut to Durge forcing Gortash to wear normal cultist attire and telling him to keep his mouth shut lest somebody recognize his voice.

Something about Orin cornering Durge and asking where they’ve been before realizing there’s a ‘cultist’ just. Standing there. Djdjdjjdjdjd Naturally she threatens to kill him if he doesn’t leave and Durge has to hurry up and make excuses and then probably run away with Gortash before Orin can clock that it’s him

Sceleritas is one of the only people who knows the situation and is tirelessly searching for a solution so that his “beloved Durge can be free of their greasy leach”

Something something people clocking that it’s weird that they’re always so close to each other (gonna say they can’t be more than 10 feet apart)- more so at places like Moonrise where nobody knows who Durge really is and want to know who it is that’s following Gortash around

Gortash having to deal with the gnolls because Durge refuses to leave them alone

Also Durge getting somewhat familiarized with mechanics and learning how they work

Ketheric genuinely not knowing that they’re tethered together for entirely too long

Balthazar being a problem if he ever finds out because he wants to do science

Also them having to learn how to fight while being stuck together

Something about their walk speeds being different- Gortash has a cane for a reason and it takes Durge a while to stop speed walking everywhere. (Gortash can match their pace, but after a while it does take a toll)

Messy sleeping arrangements

Them having to deal with each other’s triggers/really bad days TM

[karvroom]

BLACK MEMORIES

Bakugo x reader

⟢ In which you’re left to reflect on the negative memories of your past relationship with the blonde who stole your heart (and won’t give it back).

- based off the song ‘Black Memories’ by the Growlers

═════════════

You laid sprawled across your mattress in your dorm room. You melted into the multitude blankets covering your body, imagining the warmth of being cradled by your mother. The indescribable feeling of emptiness occupied your soul. You had tried everything in the past week to make the feeling go away; listening to music, hanging out with your friends, reading, even going as far as buying a coloring book. By no means, it was all hopeless. You were a mess.

Your room represented the state of mind you were currently in. Clothes littered throughout the carpeted flooring, homework papers left scattered across your desk, your dead laptop that remained open. Your curtains hadn’t been opened during the past three days. Your room was a cave. You chose to lock yourself away from the outside world and it was all over a failed relationship.

No matter what, you couldn’t get him out of your head. The hot-headed, arrogant, self-loathing excuse of a man.

You and Bakugo had been together for just about a year prior to your break up as of last week. You recounted the fond memories you had of the beginning of the relationship. The blonde had a soft spot for you to say the least. You were the only person he willingly talked to—even before you started dating. Bakugo told you it was because “you were the most tolerable”, but you begged to differ when you caught him staring at you in math class on numerous occasions.

Bakugo used to always find a way to make time for you in his overwhelming schedule. He may have been a busy guy, but nothing stopped him from seeing your pretty face in between his workouts and study time. You appreciated every second spent with him, loving him as much as you possibly could.

All that ran through your head was the blissful moments you had with Bakugo. You reminisced the good times. The high of sneaking around the dorm building together after hours creeping back into your depressive mind. The way Bakugo would always have his hands on you in some way. His arm slung over your shoulders as you laid your head against his shoulder. His thumb would glide over the skin of your arm, making you feel at ease. You loved how touchy he was. You missed it. Now all you could do was hold yourself and try to mimic the way he made you feel.

To everyone’s surprise, it was you who broke up with him. Your mutual classmates never would’ve guessed the hardships you faced throughout your time with Bakugo. You never complained, never visually showed any signs of not being okay, you were always upbeat and gleeful. That’s only because your friends were your distraction.

When you and Bakugo would have disputes or he was in a troubled mood, you would resort to going to your friends. You tried. You tried so hard to be there for him, to always check up on how he was doing. It just never seemed to be enough. He wouldn’t tell you how he was feeling or why he was acting the way he was. Bakugo was closed off to the world—and you weren’t an exception.

In the aftermath of it all, you were the one stuck at a standstill. You couldn’t function properly. This was the lowest you had ever been and it was all because of a stupid guy who could give less of a fuck about you and your well being.

You racked your brain, trying to recollect the truth behind the break up. All the arguments you had with each other, all the times he stood you up, every time he would lie to your face. You tried to come to terms with the broken promises and shattered chances that you endured. Yet, you would forgive him after it all. You were a pushover and you hated that.

You wanted to move on. You couldn’t stand to be stuck because of Bakugo. No matter how much you searched for the bad memories, there would always be a mirthful one resurfacing behind it all. You wanted to understand how it got this bad—how you allowed it to. Nothing put you at ease.

A knock came from your door. You hesitated before dryly shouting at the person on the other side, questioning who it was. When you received no response, you groaned, reluctantly pushing yourself up from the pile of blankets and stuffed animals.

You huffed, opening the door only to be met with the crimson gaze of your ex-lover. You could see the hurt in his eyes; the redness and glossy finish. Your eyes traveled his face, then the rest of his body. He carried a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a basket in the other.

“Hey.” Bakugo spoke after a moment of silence between you two.

“Hey.” You shamefully replied. You mentally face palmed, knowing you shouldn’t be talking to him. Instead, you should’ve slammed the door in his face, refusing any kind gesture he had to offer to you.

Who were you kidding? You couldn’t bring yourself to hate him.

═════════════

[maxdibert]

Don’t you think it’s stupid to always excuse Snape’s actions when Snape himself hates what he’s done and regrets it because he knows he was a bastard? His fans are always trying to make him seem like a victim, but he knows he wasn’t one!!!

No, because I don’t have to agree with the character.

What I mean is, Severus feels bad about the things he did, sees them as despicable, and understands them as things he needs to atone for. I understand where this comes from, I understand why he thinks that way, but as an external individual, I can have my own opinion about his actions and conclude that, from my perspective, they weren’t that big of a deal. I mean, I can understand that in the context of the story, being a Death Eater is seen as a terrible sin and that’s why the character embarks on a journey of redemption, but that doesn’t mean that, as someone outside that story, if I rationalize it and extrapolate it to daily life, I can’t think it’s absolutely ridiculous that someone has to give up their life and sacrifice themselves for two decades to prove they’re not a piece of crap just because, as a teenager, they decided to follow a group of fanatics and later regretted it. In the same way, I understand how several people I’ve known made similar decisions back in the day and a decade later are deeply ashamed of it, but they’re now functional people who have channeled their lives into positive things.

I get that, from the perspective of a children’s novel, the figure of the nasty teacher who always tries to mess with the protagonist and his friends is treated by the narrative as something negative, not cool, and inappropriate. I also understand people who feel triggered by dysfunctional adults who can’t manage their trauma around kids. But as someone outside that narrative, I can think it’s utterly childish because I’m 28 years old, my friends and coworkers range from 25 to 35, and we’re all a mess because being an adult is absolute crap, and being an adult who’s overworked and dealing with mental baggage sometimes makes you a pretty unpleasant person.

I understand that, in the saga’s world, calling someone a “mudblood” is the worst insult ever. But as a human being outside that world, I understand that someone insulting another person in the middle of a traumatic, high-stress moment can’t just be condemned so easily because, well, there’s a context, and it’s perfectly understandable. And I also get that if you have a friend, and that friend is kind of flirting with your bully, they don’t just deserve an insult—they deserve two slaps.

So the point isn’t that I excuse Severus—it’s that my morality doesn’t allow me to see the things he did as unforgivable. I think he made some mistakes, and I think he paid a much higher price for them than he deserved, considering his background and personal context. The fact that he, as a character, might think his sins are much greater than how I perceive them is another matter. The fact that he, as a character, feels the need to endure decades of penance to feel like he’s atoned is also another matter. In the same way, I can think, in the real world, that what someone did is a triviality while, for them, it’s something deeply wrong, and they need to make amends for it. It’s a matter of perspective.

I’ve never denied in any analysis that Severus’s entire story revolves around guilt and the search for redemption. In fact, I often comment on it—that everything stems from his feelings of guilt. Now, if you ask me personally what my opinion on the matter is, I’d say he didn’t really have that much to feel guilty about because, on a scale of one to ten, his crimes are, at most, a six.

[writingdungeon-inactive]

Happy Endings

I felt bad leaving Alex all fucked up like that, but this is the Happy End so yay

Fluff, Angst, tears, and fears all lay ahead

"Dear Diary"

2. "The Past Reborn"

Alex was a mess. If he wasn't lying at your bedside, he was curled up in his own bed, unable to function. He didn't know what to do—he felt numb, he felt scared. It had been weeks, and you still hadn't woken up. Your burns and other injuries weren't serious enough to send you to the city, but Harvey hadn't left the clinic, dedicating all his time to caring for you. The sight of you lying motionless on the hospital bed, bandages wrapped around your wounds, was etched into Alex's mind, fueling his fears and anxieties.

Haley stepped up and cared for Alex the way you and his grandparents would have wanted. She made sure he was clean and fed, pulled him out of bed, and made him walk around. She knew that physical movement, no matter how small, was important for his mental health. "Alex, they are going to be fine," she said as she brushed his hair, her voice calm and soothing.

"How do you know..." he replied dully, his voice reduced to a whisper for a while now. He avoided looking at his reflection, feeling a profound sense of hopelessness. "Harvey has them, you know how good he is," she said, looking into the mirror and styling his hair. She paused, ensuring her words would sink in. "He's the best in town. He's been taking care of them day and night."

"But what if..." Alex started, his voice cracking as he began to sniffle, his mind stuck on all the what-ifs that ran wild through his head. He couldn't shake the thoughts of losing you, the fear of facing a future without you. "What if they walk out of the clinic today, Alex!" Haley huffed, moving to kneel in front of her best friend. "What about that? They could walk out just fine. Harvey said they would be okay, it just takes time, baby," she said, rubbing his face and flicking away the tears.

Alex looked at her, his eyes red and puffy from crying, searching for any glimmer of hope. "O-Ok..." he sobbed as he pulled Haley into a hug, feeling lucky to have her as a friend. He clung to her, drawing strength from her unwavering support. "Thank you, Haley," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Haley held him tightly, her own heart aching for both Alex and you. "We'll get through this together, Alex. Just one day at a time," she said softly. She knew it would be a long road to recovery, but she was determined to be there every step of the way, for both Alex and you.

Sitting at your head, he carefully brushed your hair out of your face. “Hey babe… You are looking better…” He said, trying not to cry as he talked to you. “I… I think I need to apologize to Sam, huh?” He asked, a small, weak laugh escaping his lips. “He was the one who tried to kick the bomb away…” He said dully as tears fell down his cheeks. Laying down on the bed, he looked up at your sleeping face. “You're gonna be okay, Farmer…” He said, kissing your hand and avoiding the IV lines. “I’ll be here making sure you’re okay…”

Alex stood in front of Sam’s house, frozen in fear and guilt. He had attacked Sam and hadn't seen him since that day. Knocking on the front door, he bit his lip, wondering if he should just go. The door opened a moment later, and Kent stared at Alex. ‘Shit,’ Alex thought, having preferred Jodi answer the door. “Alex,” Kent said, his eyebrows raising slightly. “Come in,” Kent said, motioning for him to come in. Walking into the home, Alex breathed in deeply, trying to calm his heart from beating out of his chest. “Sir…. I wanted to say I'm sorry…” He said, looking up at Kent fully expecting to be decked back. “Don't,” Kent said bluntly, placing his hand on Alex’s shoulder. “I have explained to Sam that explosives are not toys over and over; he knows how dangerous they are,” Kent said, staring into Alex’s eyes. “He failed in placing the bomb so close to a ladder, thinking no one would come into the mines with them.” He said, his tone one of a soldier mid-war. “I am sorry Farmer had to take that failure.” He said, releasing Alex’s shoulder.

Kent sighed, his expression softening slightly as he continued, “But Sam has to learn from his mistakes. It's a harsh lesson, but it’s necessary.” He paused, glancing towards the door where Sam’s room was. “He’s been beating himself up over it too,” Kent said his face reflecting a worried father under the soldier facade. “Sam, get in here!” Kent called. A moment later, Sam appeared, still lightly wrapped in bandages himself. “Yeah, da-” His eyes fell on Alex before dropping to the ground, looking like a hurt puppy. “Hey, Alex…” he said softly.

“Get over here,” Kent said, watching his son. Sam dragged his feet moving in front of Alex, holding one of his arms for comfort, his eyes having trouble meeting Alex’s gaze. “Sam… I’m sorry,” Alex said softly, rubbing the back of his head. “What? No, I’m sorry, dude!” Sam said, looking at Alex in surprise.

“It was an accident, Sam… You got hurt trying to stop it…” Alex said, motioning to his still-hurt leg, the limp not gone yet. “I set the bomb off as well!” Sam said, tears welling up in his eyes and falling down his cheeks. “I hurt Farmer, Alex. It’s my fault…” He sobbed, his hands coming up to his face.

“Sam…” Alex whispered before gently grabbing him and pulling him into a hug, his own tears rolling down his cheeks. Alex clung to Sam, their tears raining down onto the rug as they both trembled with the weight of their emotions.

“It’s not your fault, Sam,” Alex murmured, his voice choked with emotion. “I didn't want to sell them to you guys, I should have said no, I didn't want you guys getting hurt either,” he admitted, holding Sam tightly as he cried. “Alex…” Sam sniffled as he wrapped his arms around him. The pair cried into each other, both giving apologies and reasons why they themselves were at fault. The dam broke and all the feelings and emotions flooded out. 

Once the two pulled apart, they couldn't help but laugh at each other, both eyes red and puffy, their noses a mess. “Thank you, Sam…” Alex said, hugging him tight again. “Thank you for trying.” He said, carefully squeezing him. “Thank you for not killing me.” Sam laughed as he held his friend back.

“I thought I’d lost you all for good,” Alex whispered, his voice trembling. “I was so scared,” Alex said softly.  “Me too,” Sam replied, his voice breaking. “Farmer will be okay,” Alex whispered softly trying to reassure both himself and Sam. Sam nodded, sniffling as he buried his face in Alex’s shoulder.

Kent watched the scene unfold, a mixture of sadness and pride in his eyes. “You boys are stronger than you think,” he said quietly, stepping forward and placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “We’ll get through this.”

It had been another few weeks, but Alex was starting to bounce back to himself. Eating and kind of working out again, he thought he would need to get back into shape so he could carry you around if needed. A quick knocking at the front door rang through the house. “One moment!” He heard Evelyn call out. Walking out of his room, he looked down the hall at the front door. The door opened to Maru, she had a wide smile on her face and was practically hopping up and down with excitement. “Oh hello dear, do you need something?” Evelyn asked sweetly as she stepped to the side to allow her inside. Maru shook her head no in response. “No, Ma’am, Farmer’s awake!” She cried out happily.

“Farmer…” Alex said, a smile splitting his face in two. He yelled an apology back to Maru and Evelyn as he almost ran them both over in his haste to get out of the house. His heart pounded with a mix of relief and exhilaration. He sprinted down the familiar path, Dusty's barks cheering him on, his mind racing with thoughts of seeing You again, awake and hopefully well. The weeks of worry and anticipation had weighed heavily on him, but now, with each step, he felt lighter, as if the burden was lifting. He couldn’t wait to see your face, to hear your voice, and to be reassured that everything would be alright.

As Alex rounded the final corner, the clinic came into view. He didn't feel his feet hitting the ground as he ran, barreling into Harvey's clinic nearly out of breath but fueled by pure adrenaline, making the older man jump out of his chair. “Sorry, Doc” he said softly, slowing down as he made his way back to you, his chest heaving slightly.

Pushing the curtain to the side, his eyes landed on yours, weakly open but open, a small smile on your face as you noticed him. “Alex…” Your voice was a bit hoarse, but it was your voice. You lifted a hand towards him, it shaking with the movement. Sitting on your bedside, he took your hand, kissing the palm. “Hi, babe…” he said into your palm before gently leaning down, hover-hugging you, not wanting to hurt you. “Harvey told me what happened.” You said as your hands felt Alex’s back, a small sob leaving your lips. “I’m sorry, Alex.”

He looked down at you like you were insane. “What are you apologizing for?” He chuckled as he wiped a tear of his that threatened to fall on you. “For worrying you,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I know how scared you must have been.” Alex shook his head, his eyes glistening. “Hey, don’t even think about that. I’m just glad you’re okay. That’s all that matters.” He squeezed your hand gently, his touch warm and reassuring

“I… I…” You began, tears streaming down your cheeks, your body trembling with emotion. “I must have worried you so much.” Your trembling hands reached out, cupping his cheeks tenderly, feeling the warmth of his skin against your fingertips. “Farmer…” Your name escaped his lips in a choked whisper, reflecting the pain he felt seeing you in distress. Leaning in closer, he pressed his lips gently against yours, a silent reassurance in his touch.

“You're okay, that's all that matters to me,” he murmured softly, his eyes locked with yours, conveying his deep concern and affection. “You’re okay,” he repeated, his voice filled with sincerity as he tried to reassure himself as much as you. Brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, he pressed a tender kiss against it. “We are okay,” he affirmed, his smile offering solace amidst the turmoil of emotions. “We are okay,” you echoed, a faint smile gracing your lips, finding comfort in his words and presence.

He stood behind you, delicately brushing your hair, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he observed your reflection in the mirror. “There we go, almost perfect,” he murmured, his voice soft and tender as he leaned down to plant a kiss on the crown of your head. Catching Alex's eye, you looked up at him questioningly, sensing a hint of secrecy in his demeanor. “What do you mean almost, sir?” you teased, “It's just one thing…” You felt a slight weight being placed on your chest, causing you to turn back towards the mirror.

A gasp escaped your lips, and your eyes widened in surprise, as Alex beheld you, with the utmost care, adorning you with a mermaid pendant. “There, I think you look perfect now,” Alex said, a shy smile gracing his features as he looked down at you. Overwhelmed with emotion, you couldn't help but respond, “Oh, Alex, yes it is,” turning back to embrace him tightly. 

Time marched on, and you did heal, the scars left on your body a vivid reminder of how close you had come to death. That drove you two closer though, the reminder of how fleeting life is and that you never know what will happen, the reminder you should hold your loved ones close to yourself.

[i-am-hungry-24-7]

Bed all day - Simon "Ghost" Riley*GN!Reader

Just a short fluff inspired by my favorite song

content warning: 18+, mdni, hand job, morning sex

You crack an eye open, groaning at the beam of light pouring into the room because you didn’t close the curtain properly yesterday.

Stretching to pop your spine, you walk to the window and pull the curtain tighter, avoiding any bit of light interrupting your peaceful Sunday morning.

Simon is sleeping soundly on the bed, you always had a bad sleeping habit of kicking your comforter and making it pool at the end of the bed. On normal nights, he makes sure to pull it back to cover you in case you catch a cold, but last night he didn’t, and you gladly see that cause it means he’s having a better rest this time.

You lay back on the bed, it sinks slightly due to your weight, making Simon stir, hands probing around to search your warmness, and he lets out a small sigh when you snuggle closer to him and let his arms pull you by your midsection and tuck you back to his chest.

Your ear and his heart are just separate by his chest bone now, and you can hear his heartbeats, steady like a marching song, while you feel Simon's finger drawing small circles on your back.

“Did I wake you up?” You mumble to him, receiving a grunt and a little shaking of his head, his arms secure you tightly to his figure, so you squirm into a more comfortable position, and this is how you realize something is prodding at your thigh.

“Simon...” Oh, now he’s tracing kisses down your neck, his movements are slow, still groggy from his slumber, the finger drawing circles on you just a minute ago starts traveling down your spine, hands sometimes groping at your ass, sometimes trailing down to give your thigh little squeezes, as if he can’t decide what he wants more.

A shuddering moan leaves his lips when your hands sneak into his boxers, he’s hard, and precum leaks onto your hand when you start stroking him slowly.

“Naughty little thing...” Simon's eyes finally open, you can see the blurriness in those caramel-like eyes, but his gaze is stuck to yours, while you just give him a little swipe on his tip and make him choke back his teasing quip.

“You started it first, babe.” Faux innocence on your pretty face only turns him on more, but all those flirtings turn into little moans and groans when you speed up the pace, cupping his balls with your left hand, whilst your right hand swirls around his shaft, using his abundant precum as lube to slide your hand proficiently.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck, those hot breaths of his pick up frequency when he climbs to the peak of orgasm.

“I’m gonna cum, luv...slower...ahh...”Simon's hand catches your wrist in his, trying to control yours so he won’t come too quickly, so he can enjoy the delectation through his hazy mind just a little longer.

but you smirk when his hands tremble and fail to stop you “shhh, Simon, just cum, alright? I got you.”

The coos you say when you press your lips to his send him over the edge, a loud whine leaves him when the overwhelming bliss makes him lose other functions and become a moaning mess under your hands.

When he finally calms down, you already go to the bathroom to wash your hands, and clean him up with tissues.

Tossing the tissues sloppily into the trash can, you jump back on the bed, and Simon's arms snake around your waist immediately again.

“Want some breakfast?” You smiled sweetly up at him.

“Nah.”

“Just lay here?”

“mmhmm.”

You chuckle, your man truly needs some proper repose, and you can’t say you aren’t well-pleasing to just lay here all day. Sundays are a day for relaxation, and refreshing, and you are each other’s best company to purify your fatigued soul, so why not just lay here and enjoy the peaceful morning? You two have a whole day to indulge in each other’s soothing presence.

Simon already falls back to his dream, and you count his regular tiny snores, slowly but contently, joining him into the sleep.

[strxnged]

1k. (suggestive) misunderstandings, platonic. gn!reader.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Of all the questions you expected Kaveh the Architect to ask you on what you had supposed to be a first date, this was not among them. Indeed, being the juxtaposing type of question you’d expect any sane suitor to ask, it was flabbergasting, and you could hardly think of a reply to combat this. Your jaw dropped and you peered into his ruby eyes, searching the jewels for a saving clue.

“You can be honest,” he continued bewilderingly. “That’s why I wanted to properly meet you for coffee. So that we could talk like adults.”

No, of all the questions you anticipated coming from someone who had asked you to meet for coffee “as soon as possible,” bringing “just yourself,” this was not among them. But maybe it should have been. The urgent nature of it all may have been a clear enough indicator, had you paid attention. A bit awkwardly you realized how far off your assumptions about this all had been. To think that you’d thought he was trying to get into your pants. Taking you on a date first like an adult. Not asking you to coffee just to talk like one.

Finding no answers in his eyes, you settled your gaze on your joe and pondered. Then at last, with much less certainty than you had intended, you responded, “I… don’t.”

“You don’t what?”

You met his eyes. “I don’t hate you, moron.”

Kaveh visibly bristled. This was how you had expected him to look after you’d turned down his supposed sexual interest as planned. “I don’t buy it. After the way that you talk to me, how you’ve turned down my project ideas, how you talk about me to other people…”

There was much for you to unpack here, but the last point caught your own sense of urgency. Your mug came down onto the table harder than you meant. “I don’t talk about you to other people. What do you mean, how I talk about you to other people?”

“You know.”

“I don’t. Where is this coming from? Kaveh, what the hell?”

He swallowed and spoke with seemingly great effort. “Alhaitham said… that you said… you can’t bear to be around me.”

“Kaveh.”

“Yes?”

“Alhaitham isn’t people. Alhaitham is person. A person who has been known to enjoy messing with you.”

He hesitated, and then declared, “A lot of the stuff he says is true. Even if it’s utterly uncalled for.” Kaveh looked anywhere but at you. “Sorry. I just…”

You looked him up and down. Here, you’d thought he was all of the things he wasn’t. And here he thought you were all of the things that you were not. You let a short laugh slip, and then quickly covered your smile with your knuckle.

He spoke feebly and towards the cafe aisle instead of you. “I’m taking this seriously. I don’t want you to hate me. Can’t we talk about it?”

Oh, it was sweet, and ironic, and delightful, and hilarious.

“Yes, Kaveh. Let’s talk about it.”

He glanced at you and quickly away again, nodding. His avoidance of eye contact made you feel a bit bad, but for only a second. You wanted to get the truth out before you made any attempt at comforting the poor soul.

“I don’t hate you,” you continued. “I don’t even dislike you. I like your company and I think you’re marvelous and creative. I think—and this is what I told Alhaitham—I think that if I spent too much time with you, I’d become more engaged myself, and I’m just not ready for that change in my life. Or I wasn’t. I was too comfortable with the status quo.” You paused to sip your bitter coffee, trying to figure out the words for the rest of it.

“But my projects,” he said, “my project ideas, the ones you refused to help with.”

“You wouldn’t want to do those with little old me,” you replied, simply and honestly.  

“I really would.”

“No, Kaveh. You don’t understand. I’m not brilliant like you. I’m a materialist, a realist, a square-cut function-obsessed gadgeter. I don’t do pretty designs. I can’t contribute to—” You gestured as if his mind was splayed out as a galaxy of ideas before you. “—All that.”

He tilted his head, looking again keen and reactionary. 

“And I’m sorry,” you finally said, “for how… for how blunt I can be. And I know I can be mean. I swear it’s just the way I talk, it’s not—”

He cut you off. “So I’m not the one you hate?”

“What do you…” It was your turn to cock your head. 

“I mean…” He raised an eyebrow, not mockingly. “You’re just unhappy, aren’t you?”

You set your mug down and leaned your elbows onto the table. He looked intently back at you now. Like a friend. Like someone who cared about being hated by you, and someone who cared about you hating yourself.

You cleared your throat, grasping at the straws of a changed subject. “I thought this was gonna be a date, nitwit. Not a therapy session.”

“A date?” He looked horrified.

You laughed at his expression, feeling all sorts of relieved. “Good to know neither of us were looking for that.”

“Tell me: Why would I ask you on a date if I thought you hated me?”

“Oh, Kaveh.”

“That doesn’t make an inch of sense.”

“Speaking of inches. Are you sure you want those columns in that desert library design to be that thick? Why not just have a few more columns among the shelves?”

And as quickly as that, the fear and sensitivity in his face faded and was replaced by glowing defense of his idea. 

The supposed date turned into a shrewd planning convention and you watched the remaining tension leak from his fingertips as he gestured at his invisible designs in the air. You thought, yes, this is why I can’t bear to be around him. He’s so bright and alive. It burns my eyes.

But you were alive too, thanks to the warm late-night caffeine. And thanks also, perhaps, to the feeling that the conversation you had avoided earlier might come around again, and that you didn’t mind that. You didn’t mind the idea of more conversations with Kaveh.

author's note. i don't know, guys, i think i'm obsessed with being this guy's friend. and... yeah, this is sort of a vomit of words about how easily social signals are misinterpreted, especially when you're ANTISOCIAL like me. i'm fine though. do not worry.

consider reblogging or leaving a reply if you enjoyed.

➳ GENSHIN MASTERLIST

[the-final-sif]

Well, it's for a school research paper and we have to gather data on how social media affects stress and people's mental health.

Thank you for answering my dumbass questions even though it probably seems stupid, i really appreciate it

First off, asking for help on finding sources is not stupid/dumbass, it's the opposite. Smart people ask for help when they don't know what they're doing.

Second, since you said school and not uni, I'm going to assume you're at high school level roughly and not uni/college. If so, then google scholar is going to be a fine starting point for you to find sources. It's generally user friendly and going to provide decently quality for what you need.

Unlike main google, it's been untouched by the AI nonsense and functions mostly like it did 5 years ago. It's also handy because it will often provide free copies of papers when it can find one. It should help you get some good research papers as sources that you can use as citations, and it'll let you save articles/handles citations for you.

Here's a quick guide for what you need to know to use google scholar!

When searching, put in keywords, NOT questions.

For reasons unclear to me, search engines and humans being weird has trained people to type in queries to search engines like questions. This is bad!!! It will get you worse results!! You want to instead remove any unnecessary words and focus in on giving the computer the most unique keywords to match you with what you actually want. For example:

BAD: how does social media affect stress and mental health?

BETTER: social media stress effect mental health

BEST: social media mental health

You really want to par down your keywords as much as possible, limiting connector or filler unless you absolutely need it. The more specific words you use (ie using "depression" rather than the more general "mental health") the more specific your results. Focus on practicing that and you'll do excellent.

With that out of the way, for actual google scholar use:

Right here, we have a very important feature, the free copy. If google can pull up a free public copy of a paper, it will! Always use those when possible.

Always check the date on the research you're pulling! For a topic like social media, I would be wary of pulling any source that's 5 years or older, since it's an evolving landscape! For other topics, the rules vary a lot depending on the topic and quality of research available.

Next up, saving & citation. The save button lets you save an article for later. You can stick it on a particular list. Handy for keeping track of sources. The cite button generates citations for you, in most of the common styles. Saves you having to mess with making them yourself.

Finally! Further research! When you click down here, you can see articles that have cited this paper and related articles. Both are quite handy for exploring a particular topic further as you look for research that builds on what you've found. Particularly when the area you're looking at is niche or highly specific. Also a great way to find systematic reviews of data that are sometimes a bit stubborn about showing up in research results.

Hopefully all of that is helpful, best of luck on your paper anon!

[the-badger-mole]

Okay okay okay so-

I've been scrolling through your Tumblr and enjoying many of your points but I have no idea what you're talking about when you refer to the "lava fissure incident" cause even being obsessed with the show I never read the comics

Can you pleaaaase give me a general idea? 🤠

I have addressed this before in a post that I think was better than this one, but I can't find it because Tumblr will do anything to "improve this cesspool of a site except make the Archive and search function better. If you want to look thorough my posts, have at it. I think I wrote it within the last 3ish years, but if, like me you don't have that kind of time, here's the nutshell version.

There's a scene in the "Love Is a Battlefield" comic where Aang is trying to talk to Katara about the kiss at DoBS, and she is trying to change the subject and get Aang to practice his firebending (you know, that thing he has to do so he can end the war?). Aang doesn't like that she's not willing to talk about their relationship so in fit of temper, he opens a lava fissure in her face.

Aang: Fine! You want fire? I'll show you fire!!!

The scene ends with Aang feeling sorry for himself, not that he let his anger lead him to almost hurt Katara with fire (again! And this time on purpose), but because he thinks he's going to get his heart broken. Because that's the important thing here.

What disturbed me most was how it was framed. We, the audience, are also supposed to feel sorry for Aang. Who just opened up a lava fissure in the face of the girl he claims to love because she doesn't want to talk about him kissing her. Keep in mind, this happens a few episodes before EIP, where Katara- having recently experienced Aang literally blow up at her for not immediately falling at Aang feet and declaring her undying love- hesitates to tell Aang what she feels for him. This scene, with Aang intentionally doing something that could've seriously hurt Katara, comes before the one where he kisses her without her consent. For the second time. It comes after the heartbreaking end of the DoBS invasion, where Katara's father was captured so Aang could escape. And, narratively, this is not supposed to be a major character flaw in Aang. We, the audience, are supposed to feel bad for him!! Had Zutara not been a thing, I would still hate Aang just for this.

The fact that Katara isn't hurt here means nothing to me. This is the equivalent of a guy throwing dishes at the wall, because he's angry, but not actually throwing it at his partner. I've had people tell me I can't use this against Aang because it's OOC.... Is it, though? Is it really OOC for Aang to throw a super powered tantrum because he's upset? Is it?

BTW, could Bryke have been any lazier with that title? Leave Pat Benatar out of this mess, please!

[lostcherii]

HIDDEN NOVA

CHP(2) Meeting places here and there in search of caffeine

Ace pov:

“ACEE ACE WAKE UP WAKE-” Like the hangover wasn't bad enough, I had an unemployed rat yelling at me first thing in the morning.

“WHAT-” before i could say anything more, luffy shoved a phone in front of my face 

Sabo gave me a small grin and said, “We did it; our small gig has gone viral.”

Wait, hold up It took me about a few moment to function until i understood what sabo was saying and why luffy was yelling.

I quickly grabbed the phone from Luffy and saw a video of our band performance yesterday at the club. It was quite well edited, and surprisingly, my voice doesn't sound like a dying druggie who had one too many cigarettes.

“Fucking hell,” i said, smiling and running my finger thru my messy hair 

“500 thousand views over night,” sabo chuckled

“I know right, we’re so cool." luffy went mumbling on and on about how amazing it would be when we were popular but honestly 

I never had hope in myself to make this band popular. I mean, sure, Sabo and Luffy are amazing at what they do, but am I? 

I always felt as if my tune or beats were never on point or I just couldn't be as talented as Luffy and Sabo, but this video was giving me some dangerously high hopes. 

“Who made it?” i asked sabo and luffy 

Sabo just shrugged, and Luffy was too busy dreaming about all the rich meat he said he’d eat once we became rich and famous. In the middle of it, Luffy snaps out of it and replies

"Oh, i think it may have been y/n”

“Why do you say that?” said sabo

“She had some ad assessment due; I don't remember the details, but she told me she had to make an ad on some kind of small business, i guess.” 

I was not processing a lot of what luffy was saying considering my horrible headache 

“I need coffee,” i said, groaning in pain 

“We don't have any,” said Sabo, looking at luffy

“Why not? I just bought a whole ass packet of coffee beans..luffy, what did you do?” i said, glaring at him

"Well, I wanted to go feed the pigeons in the park, and Sabo said take some small beans or pieces of bread, but the only beans I saw were the coffee beans.”

“YOU THREW MY EXPENSIVE ARABICA COFFEE BEANS IN THE MIDDLE OF SOME PARK TO PIGEONS!”

“IF IT MAKES YOU FEEL ANY BETTER THEY NEVER ATE THEM, I COULD GO PICK THEM UP IF YOU WANT." said Luffy, ready to go to the park to get the beans or run away from me—I don't know which one.

“Forget it, I’ll go to some cafe," I said, getting ready to head out for the day to one of my favorite cafes. i usually go there on weekdays in the middle of college breaks It's quite a cool cafe, having some classic vinyls like Queen and Bon Jovi and some vintage cars; I loved their Porsche 911 2.7 Carrera Rsh.

such a waste that the engine isn't working anymore; it's just kept on display. I thought while heading out.

Y/N pov 

About 7 to 6 hours ago 

"Fuck-," I said, taking a sip of my 7th cup of coffee while editing the video. I had completely messed up my assessment dates and realized that I needed to submit my commercial by tomorrow evening. It was about 11:30 at night when I came back from the club and realized that I needed to submit my assessment. 

So like any other raging caffeine addict, I made myself a pot of coffee and prayed for me to survive another all-nighter.

About 4 hours later, i was done with visuals and was quite pleased with it, The lighting with the vintage camera gave the video a nice natural retro look. Now just the audio 

“I swear to god this video needs to look damn amazing. i have not just wasted an entire pot of coffee for a mediocre commercial,” i said, finishing the entire video at 5 in the morning 

“This deserves more appreciation,” I thought to myself and decided to post the video online as well and passed out on my bed.

Not even 2 or 3 hours later, i get a call 

“You have a shift at the cafe.”

I was too sleepy to realize what my manager just told me 

Until 2 or 3 minutes later i realized it and before i could protest, he cut the call 

I rolled around in bed not ready to leave, but knew i had to, considering the fact that it was a really well-paying job, and i worked quite close to campus so a job like this would be hard to find 

I somehow got myself up and walk out the door

“Oh woah, did you sleep at all?” said Nami, taking a bite off her pancake 

I just frowned and sat down, Robin patted me on the head and offered me some pancakes 

A true angel, I thought.

“I need to go,” i said as i grabbed my bag

“Why so soon? Where are you going? It's a saturday morning,” nami said, protesting to me leaving the dorm

“The manager called me at last minute,” i said, frowning 

Nami pitted my poor sleep-deprived ass and said she’d make something good for dinner today 

I thanked her and left.

I arrived on the shift seeing that law wasn’t there, which was expected; he doesn't take early morning shifts usually, i put on my apron and got the coffee beans ready When i heard the door open, i groaned silently, knowing it was far to early for me to deal with some karen who said her latte was made with milk so before she could say anything, i turned to them and-

"Oh, hey,” said Mr. Freckles. 

"Fuck, I thought I mentally cursed myself for not dressing up and looking like a sleepless drunkard.” 

“Hi” was all i could say and just stared at his face 

How is he looking so good even with homeless-looking clothes? What the hell?

He was wearing an oversized guns n’ roses shirt with some jackets layered over it and some baggy jeans; his hair was even more messy than yesterday but it just looked more fluffy, honestly-

“You gonna take my order,” he said as he smirked at me 

I quickly realized that i'm on duty 

"Ah, sorry, what can I get you?” i said, taking out my notepad and looking at him

"Well, i have venti coffee with a chicken sandwich on the side,” he said and he rubbed his head 

I guessed he was having a hangover from yesterday's drinks. 

"Sure, coming right up," I said, smiling, and started to heat the sandwich. I started to make the coffee and kept it on the other counter. Before he walked, he just looked at me and spoke 

“Hey, did you make that video of us?”

what - what video Oh, wait, was I not supposed to? Oh no, they didn't like it Shit. i knew i should have asked sabo or him instead of luffy for permission

“It was pretty good, you know,” he said, smiling 

I went in shock and grinned 

“Did you really enjoy it?” i said

“Yeah and about 500 thousand other people as well,” he said, chuckling 

“What-” i said 

“You don't know?” he said looking at me and pulled out his phone, showing my video of them 

It had gone viral oh my god, oh my god.

I was so happy. 

I'm pretty sure ace saw me smiling like an idiot looking at the video but i didn't care; i proved to everyone that i could do something 

“Thanks,“ said ace i just looked at him confused

“Why are you saying thanks, I should be thanking you for the amazing performance,” i said, grinning

He chuckled and said, “Well, that’s not much. You did the impossible by making me sound good,” he said, chuckling

Before i could protest, his phone rang 

He picked it up and spoke. 

“Really right now—shit, um yeah, ok, i'll try to make it in time,” he closed his phone and look at me and said while smirking

“I’m sorry,“ he just paused for a moment before talking again

“To leave you, but I have to go; maybe we could meet at the club tomorrow night?” he said, taking his order from the other counter and smiling at me 

"Sure," i said "bye,” i said pleasantly  

And he just rushed out the door 

Ace 

What THE FUCK is wrong with me I thought, covering my mouth with my hand and thinking, What was I going to say? "I'm sorry, darling, for leaving so soon." The fuck does that even mean i said, "I’m too hungover That beer was a little too strong. My brain isn’t co-operating. “

I continued to dwell on that thought while walking back to the dorms and strummed my finger while softly humming a beat and the lyrics to a new song 

"I'm sorry I met you, darling; I'm sorry I met you."

As she turned into the night, all he had were the words

"I'm sorry I met you, darling; I'm sorry I've left." 

I chuckled to myself at such a stupid song, I thought.

Such a stupid thing to think, I thought, Remembering her gentle, yet pretty smile,

And chuckled to myself.

[autumnvine]

Help her

Summary: Almost finishing for maternity leave driving home from work yn has a bad car crash while on the car speaker phone to her husband Tom.

TW: Major car crash, details, blood, hospital, pregnancy.

This was never suppost to happen, your car totalled, the roof on the road and wheels facing upward to the clouded sky, blood, broken glass and chunks of your cars exteriour sprayed everywhere across the road. Head pounding as you dangled with your seatbelt upside down in your vehicle.

"Darling can you hear me? What's happening?" A thick English accent bellowed through the car speakers, Your name being called over and over. "I'm coming" he shouted, through the phone once again, Life360 was a mirracle for situations like this, knowing exactly where to find you.

About ten minuites had passes until someone's dark boots appeared by your window, a pair of strong arms opening the door, unfastening the seatbelt and catching you as you fell free from the seat, he pulled you out of the car, laying you gently on the curbside, brushing the hair off your face searching for any injuries, your nose was bleeding a little above your eyebrow too, the back of your head was okay, scanning over your body, noticing your coat torn at the shoulder, a few scrapes over your elbow with a few dropplets of blood, a thick deep red patch soking your white blouse covering your stomach area, "oh god". Behind you came flashing blue lights and sirens fleeing down the road,

"What happened?" A woman with red hair asked the man beside you

"I...I don't know, I was on the phone with her, she's my wife,she's pregnant, we were laughing and then she shouted and I heard a crashing and banging oh god, I..I pulled her out of there, I don't know just help her, please"

"What's her name?"

"Yn Hiddleston"

"What's your name"?

"Tom Hiddleston, she's bleeding please help her"

Suddenly a croud of paramedics, surrounded you, pushing Tom to the side, his heart breaking, tears streaming down his face as he looked at the blood covering his hands. It wasn't long before you were taken away, Tom holding your hand in the back of the ambulance, a paramedic driving his car behind following closely behind to the hospital.

On arrival they took you away from Tom, running with you down the corridors, pushing you through doors Tom wasn't allowed passed, he was fighting it, wanting to be with you, a sobbing mess as they took you away from him.

It had been hours since he saw you, pacing in the waiting room more times then he could count, reliving each moment, trying to process exactly what had just happened. He processed each event leading up to this moment

Flashback

"Good morning my love" Tom kissing your forhead as you woke in his arms, smiling at him "Good morning, care to join me in the shower?"

"I'd love nothing more" he replied, as you both climbed out of bed and kissed eachother again, Tom kissed your stomach "Good morning little bean"

The two of you were smitten, totally in love and soon to be expanding your family, you were so close to finishing up work ready for maternity leave, he was beside himself with joy and love for you both when you told him you were expecting, from that moment on he was always at your side taking care of you both. After the shower you had breakfast together, had your vitamins, gotten dressed, applied your makeup and your hair in a bun for the office.

You called Tom on your lunch break, thanking him for the packed lunch me had made for you, and explaining how your morning was going, Tom reminding you gently to lay off your caffine intake, you were addicted to coffee you needed it to function, but given the life growing inside you, that amout of coffee was no longer acceptable, possible only having one or two cups for the whole day.

After your shift you called Tom, laughing with him as you explained you were no longer adicted to coffee and have gone the full day without one cup, he was proud of you, Tom was always proud of you, "I was thinking for dinner we could go out somewhere, not fancy or anything just out for a while or catch a movie?" you asked Tom He agreed with you and loved the idea of a date night to celebrate the coming weekend, dinner and a movie sounded cliche but it didn't matter, you loved it. After you first started going out with Tom one of the first thing you did was go for a burger and caught a movie, since then it has always been your thing, every now and then going for something to eat and a film, sacrificing the whole night for just you two, no work, no phones, no calees, no script reading or meeting scheduling, it was time the two of you connected.

"What are you feeling like? Pizza, pasta, burgers, what about some icecream, no wait not icecream you can't eat icecream, what about the dish you liked before with the mashed potato and the mince perhaps with"

"OH CRAP! OH MY-" you cut Tom off mid sentence, shouting and screaming down the phone

"Yn what's happening, what's wrong? Are you alright? YN!"

Tom felt completely helpless, hearing you screming for him down the phone, shortly followed by a loud band, and crashing, then it all went silent, "Darling can you hear me? What's happening? YN! I'm coming"

Checking his phone to see where you were, running to his car, speeding down the street, jumping every red light to get to you, driving along the same road you were just ten minuites prior, he saw parts of a car as he drove past, the broken glass, the bumper, your car. "Oh God Yn" he put his hazard lights on although the road was fairly quiet, "YN!" he shouted your name over and over, running to the driver door, seeing you there upside down, Tom was trying so hard to keep it together, now wasn't the time to panic, he needed to help you, he needed to help his baby. Crying and pulling you out of the car, all he could think about was you, he needed you, he couldn't live woithout you, he wouldn't , you ment everything to him.

"Mr Hiddleston?" A womens gentle voice called him from the waiting room , Tom spun around to face the woman, a nurse with light blue scrbs, "Is she okay, My wife, she, has to be okay, please?"

"She's alright, she's stable"

Tom cried in relief, "Thank you, oh god thank you, and, our baby? She was bleeding, her stomach, there was so much blood, she's pregnant, please is our baby okay?" The silence cut through Tom harder then anything, time stood still as he waited to hear,

"You should sit down, Mr Hiddleston your shaking, Sir your family is okay, they're both alright, your daughters here, she's in the NICU, but i think she'll be just fine. She is a little smaller because she's premautre, but she's a fighter like her mother."

"My daughter" Tom whispered, "We have a girl?"

"Congratulations, you're a father to a very beautiful little girl.

Your wife sustained some pretty extensive injurys, it was the best option to save them both. Your wife is tired and her body had gone through alot of trauma, but you can see her, however you can't meet your daughter until she comes out of the NICU as the babies have little to no immune system, Tom nodded agreeing and understanding. He hugged the nurse thanking her, "I want to see my wife"

Tom sat beside you, just staring at you looking at his wife, bandaged up, looking a little better then when he found you many hours ago. Words couldn't desrcibe his emotions, Tom was scared, terrified, proud of you for fighting through this. All night he sayed there, barely sleeping afried to close his eyes just incase you woke or something happened.

Tom was always there for you, when you woke up you saw your hand your knuckles cut and sore, everything hurt but Tom was there holding your hand, talking to you, comforting you, stopping you from having a panic attack. "Tom are you alright?" noticing his eyes red and a few tears rolling down his cheeks, "I thought I'd never see you again Yn, I love you, oh goodness I love you so much, everythings okay now, you are okay yn, your alright"

"Tom the baby?"

"She's okay"

"She, were having a girl?"

"Darling we have a girl." your face said it all, what did he mean have, surley he ment having, not have. "She's in the NICU, she's tiny, and beautiful, and she's our little fighter"

Your eyes welled up, "She's okay"

"Tom what happened to me? Why is our baby in the NICU? What's going on?" He explained to you that everything was alright, there was an accident but it's all okay now. "You're both safe, that's all that matters right now. You can rest daring, everything is alright, and we can meet our daughter soon"

[azureeall]

So after I posted the last few drawings for the night and kissed my Optimus figure good night I IMMEDIATELY got a nightmare and it was pretty bad to a point where I have to yap about it right after I woke up from it (it's currently 2 am but who cares)

Apparently this nightmare isn't like the usual scary monsters or dark alleys like traditional nightmares but rather... It was just my room. And it actually just looked like how my room normally looks like probably at the time I was sleeping as well.

But what's different are my stuff that are in my room. It all started out just fine until everything just evolves into utter chaos.

Starting off there's my Optimus figure. I put him on my desk after cuddling with him on my bed so that I don't accidentally sleep on him. And if you're wondering yes this was the exact thing I did right before I went to sleep (call me cringe or weird for that idc but that's not the main point.) Anyways I noticed that there were a few of his pieces missing and started looking for them. Once I found one I noticed he started losing more pieces. I continued searching for them but he just kept losing more and more to a point where he's just FUCKING DETERIORATING. At that point his pieces were just every where. My desk, my bed, and idk maybe the fucking backrooms too now that I think about it. Also a bunch of them that used to be just whole pieces that had fallen off are now literally broken. And the actual figure himself? Almost unrecognizable.

Next there was my phone. Somehow my phone just got this really big crack that could actually split the thing into 2. I tried to hold it more gently but the crack just kept getting worse and worse until it actually split into 2. And the 2 pieces didn't have the regular jagged edges on where it snapped. It was something like what I could describe as REALLY sharp teeth. But somehow after all of that my phone was actually still functional??? Though I still panicked cuz who wouldn't panic if their phone just mysteriously snapped even if it was still working.

Another thing I remember was my tablet. It didn't actually broke or anything, it just kept... teleporting... somehow. It wasn't that much of a concern compared to everything else that was happening but the fact that it kept teleporting made me worry that I might break it. You see, during this whole thing my room just kept getting messier and messier so I had to keep moving my tab. And when I started spiraling down into madness, that's when I actually worry about breaking it.

Oh and all of this wasn't just happening one by one. Everything was happening SIMULTANEOUSLY. I had to worry about my deteriorating Optimus, my cracked phone, my teleporting tablet, and everything else that happened in between all at the same fucking time. And the fact that the situation just gradually became worse really made me feel like I was losing my marbles.

At its worst point, everything was a MESS. Stuff scattered everywhere, new items appear outta nowhere. Hell there was even a whole fucking desk that just spawned next to my bed. And what was on that desk? Even more stuff. There were just so many things happening at once to a point where I just started having a panic attack.

At some point I thought to myself that all of this was just too bad to be true, and thought that all of this could just be a dream. So I tried waking myself up but yknow what happened? I JUST WOKE UP TO THE SAME DREAM AGAIN. At first I thought I actually woke up but things were still as bad as they were so I tried waking up again. Every time I try to wake up it just kept taking me to the same dream over and over again, with each time I wake up, the false "realities" Just kept feeling more and more realistic, as if it's trying to entrap me in this illusion.

I kept waking and waking, trying to finally free myself from this nightmare, until I actually woke up. My head was heavy and hurting, and so were my eyes. But when I looked around, everything was exactly where it was before I fell asleep into that madness. My Optimus was intact, my phone was unscathed, my tablet was where I last left it, and everything was in its tidy... but not so tidy condition (I'm not the best at cleaning my room ok.) But everything was finally normal

Now I'm not sure if I should go back to sleep again or nah.

[contentment-of-cats]

WiP Bit - Thraralani

He's absolutely brilliant with tactics, strategy, and combat.

He's capable of missing everything else around him unless it's art.

Ziara has known this about Thrawn for most of his time at Taharim. In fact, a number of cadets and even some of the faculty call Mitth'raw'nuruodo her first command. She's been hammering him through upper division coursework because it's a very very bad no good never let it happen idea to let Thrawn get bored. It's like having a pusheen who has learned to open things and subverted it's feeding program like her late and beloved Mu'cher.

Hm. Having an overintelligent pusheen might be the best possible preparation for dealing with Thrawn. There's a thesis for you.

Of course, having him as her junior survival course partner is going to kick the firesting nest, but there are multiple reasons for doing so. One is that it keeps her friend in line of sight, therefore unlikely to dig himself a grave. Secondly, it keeps him out of sight from those who would push him into said grave and shovel for dear life. Thirdly, Thrawn misses a lot of things and he's missing a very important one and Ziara needs to correct this. Right now, he's intent on dinner, a new holochip of Late Middle Regency nightstone sculpture, and giving her half an ear about their upcoming two-week survival test.

"-and then I will take a chair and beat you to death with it."

"Sounds good."

"You didn't listen to a word I said, Thrawn."

He marks his place and then repeats every word she's said while Ziara restrains herself from pointless violence.

"Fine. You were listening. We ought to rest early since we don't know where they're going to drop us."

The mess is almost empty and Thrawn takes their trays to dump in the recycler before they walk back to their barracks. The rules of the survival test say only that they won't be dropped into hard vacuum or a toxic atmosphere without appropriate, tested, and functional equipment. Likewise, they will be warned about extremes of temperature since Chiss have diverged far enough from their human origin that they have lost their pores and hair aside from their heads, eyebrows, and eyelashes - they can't sweat. The testing grounds will be challenging, but unless one is stupid, they are not deadly.

Sometime in the night, they're drugged and wake up in a lifepod plummeting into atmosphere. Strapped into crash couches, all Ziara can do is watch the fire of entry and hope the heat shields held, Thrawn has the yoke in hand and visibly wrestles them into a controlled descent. There's just enough fuel in the tanks to scoot them out of trouble's way. The landing is rough, and the tanks are on fumes by the time the sun sets. They activate the beacon once firmly on the ground, then stagger to the sanitary unit before falling into bed to sleep off the tranks.

Morning is unpleasant. The hangover leaves Ziara feeling slow and stupid and Thrawn actively sick - a bucket between his knees and nothing staying down. Both of them are certified to operate the small med unit, she Thrawn gets fluids and medication while Ziara curls up and tries to sleep her way through it. Rations go down and stay down, and for some reason Thrawn has spiceleaf tea.

And eight layers of clothing.

A pair of multitools.

Knives.

He strips out of layer after layer until he's in his underwear and socks, looking pleased with himself and the haul of items on the floor of the pod.

"Oh, my life. Thrawn. How-?!"

"I knew that they'd come for us sometime this week, keeping us in the middle of the cohort for testing. So I slept with everything on my body as they are not allowed a body search."

Of course he did.

[merge-conflict]

matteru

I was searching through my scrivener project yesterday because someone asked me how many WIPs I had and so I became very distracted looking through the insane mess and found this little bit I wrote for an AU I wrote with Sammy where Valentine and VS were both alive in the 2020s– this is the one where Valentine was dying from radiation poisoning and agreed to get Soulkilled and sort of ends up in a whole Smasher-esque situation working at Arasaka and then gets blamed for Saburo's death for political reasons. Anyway! I enjoyed this little Valentine/Goro snippet so I'm sharing it here (~2k words total)

It had been decades since Valentine had been in Night City, but very little had changed, except for the smell. The new smell wasn’t any better than the old one, but it was different in a way that she found difficult to pin down. Some new sort of metallic-earthiness, courtesy of an updated chemical cocktail being pumped into the air. God only knew what kind of new cancer was en vogue. Her own killer had been gamma radiation– her DNA had simply unraveled and that had been the end.

[He’s not going to show.] Johnny flickered into view by Valentine’s elbow, leaning back against the same railing she was looking over. She hadn’t seen him since earlier in the morning. He’d been busy chewing through the processing power and storage she’d allotted him in sullen silence. [We should get out of here.]

[He’ll come,] she said, placidly.

She wished in vain for her hard frame, locked away somewhere in the belly of the Kujira. It was bad enough to be labeled a traitor and hunted like a dog, but to be stuck in this soft borg doll when it happened was almost too much to bear. To be certain, it would have been impossible for her to pass through NC unseen in her frame, seven feet tall and emblazoned with the Arasaka logo in striking black and gold– but her synth skin was feeling uncomfortably fragile just now, chilled and clammy in the humid night air.

[How do you know he’s not going to turn you in?” Johnny asked. He sounded bored. She could feel his restlessness like something slithering through the cords of her thigh muscle.

[Why are you so sure he is?] She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, and the drone on her shoulder gripped a little tighter. When she’d arrived in the city two nights ago she’d had eight functioning drones, but all that was left was little Phiddipus Rex– a fist-sized array of cameras on legs, its face turned towards the city behind her, as it watched for movement in the darkness.

[Every corpo has just one thing on their mind: themselves.] Johnny tapped at his forehead for emphasis.

[And yet I can’t seem to get you off my mind.]

[Gonna get us fucking both killed,] Johnny muttered, shaking his arms out as he glitched in and out of view. [Just because you can’t handle getting cut loose.]

It wasn’t a matter of wanting to be back at Arasaka, but it was pointless to argue with Johnny about the realities of her existence. He was nervous and he hated being in this body almost as much as she did. She couldn’t do much about the latter, but since they were stuck here waiting she might as well see if she could get him to stop feeling sorry for himself.

[You’re worried I’m gonna sell you out,] she said, placidly. [I told you I wouldn’t.]

[Great,] he snapped. [I feel much better.]

[You’re welcome.]

Despite the surge of spite from his corner of her brain, he did eventually relax. He wasn’t doing too badly, considering how recently he’d woken up. No one had prepared him for life after death. She wanted to be angry at him, for killing her, but she had other things to worry about and the collapse of Arasaka tower had been a long time ago. No use in holding a grudge against a man as dead as she was.

While she may have been staring out at the choppy, black water of the canal, her attention was on Rex’s cameras, so she noticed the first signs of movement before the automated alert could zip its way up her spine. She’d expected to see the lights of a car in the tunnel, but instead someone was quietly and dropping down the side of the concrete wall that led up to the street above. Only one figure– she recognized his height and gait immediately. Takemura.

For close to a decade they had played the same game: she had spread her net of drones and cameras across the Arasaka compound and he had tried to walk through them without being detected or detained before he reached the room where their master slept. That game was over. Saburo had met his death on his own two feet, far away from home and their well-tested safety net.

For the first time, she wondered if he was coming to kill her. He could never believe she had done it, of course, but he had loved Saburo the way only an Arasaka child soldier could, and he was loyal. Grief could make anyone unpredictable.

[Eyes up,] Johnny said, mistaking her calm for obliviousness. She ignored him, and let Takemura get closer. He would be able to see Rex on her shoulder, and know she was watching.

He stopped a few meters away, falling into a parade rest, attentive but not hostile. “Higurashi-san. I apologize for being late…I was busy with other matters.”

The nickname made her smile, despite herself. He wouldn’t have used it if he were here to kill her. But Johnny was nervous again, curled tense in her muscles. [What’s he saying?]

“I’m glad you came,” she said to Takemura, in English. “I know it’s a risk.”

“You did not kill Arasaka-sama,” Takemura said resolutely, switching to the same language. He walked to join her at the railing, stepping into Johnny, who glitched and then fizzled out of view. “And you were not involved in any plan to do so. Of this I am certain.”

Valentine turned her head to look down at him through her own eyes. He was shorter than she was, though he didn’t take it personally as some of the other soldiers did. She knew him well enough to read his face in profile and see that he was sincere. But she was unprepared for the feeling of relief that accompanied the realization, like she’d let out a breath she’d been holding all day.

“Thank you,” she said, abruptly turning back to stare at the dark water. The gesture was not neatly done. He knew her well enough to recognize her discomfort and weakness, but it was too late to undo.

Rex still watched out over her back. Their backs. But she could hear Takemura turning to look at her, as his voice met her and not the waters of the canal. “Did you learn anything from the mercenary you found?”

“She was only there for the relic,” she answered, automatically. The question had been an order, and Takemura presided over all matters related to Saburo’s security. Even now. “Both she and her fixer insisted it. They were terrified and arguing before I interrupted them, so I doubt they were lying. Neither she nor her partner killed him.”

“Then who?”

She couldn’t bring herself to say his name. “You know as well as I do.”

“He has ordered your capture,” Takemura said, with the same reluctance. When she didn’t respond he added, “You must lie low. Do you have somewhere–“

“Yes,” she interrupted. “I’ve found someplace safe.”

The last thing she needed was her competence questioned. She’d survived Arasaka for longer than Takemura had been alive, on her own wit. She’d killed all of the soldiers they’d sent after her in that shitty motel. Just because she needed his help for a few things didn’t make her helpless.

“Of course,” Takemura said, a little stiffly. “It is a pity the mercenary did not survive…her testimony may have been useful. We must find some other proof to take to Hanako-sama, to clear your name, and bring Saburo-sama’s killer to justice.”

Valentine met his gaze and held it. “So you’ll help me?”

He nodded. “You would do the same for me, were our situations reversed.”

“I would,” she admitted.

Johnny glitched into view behind Takemura’s shoulders, arms crossed and rolling his eyes. It took considerable effort for her to ignore him, although it was difficult to look directly at Takemura’s face when he was so full of sincerity. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate it, but she couldn’t quite trust it. She wasn’t a person, she was a tool, and occasionally a weapon. Everyone else understood that.

“I went to the motel,” Takemura was saying, drawing her attention back to the present. “The damage was extensive…I am glad to see that you are unhurt.”

A guttural laugh escaped from her chest before she could stop it. This body made it harder for her to control her impulses. Made it too easy to forget what she was. “Lost my drones.”

That was the whole point of the drones, of her. Arasaka wasn’t afraid to throw bodies at problems, but drones were easily replaced, and they didn’t require decades of investment and implants and psychological evaluation. Or so the presentations her handlers and research team said, when they were asked to justify the cost of her continued existence and the project responsible for her creation. But none of that mattered when the emperor’s son committed patricide, and there would be no replacing the drones that functioned as her eyes and ears and hands outside this soft-shelled prison. Rex was all she had left.

“I am sorry,” Takemura said, quietly. He opened his jacket and pulled something from one of the interior pockets. “I thought you might wish to have this. Some of the black boxes were destroyed, but the others have been retrieved.”

“Which ones were destroyed?” she asked distantly, taking the piece of warped, armored carapace from his hand. It was only a small piece– easy to hide, she guessed, and she didn’t know what to think about the fact that he’d taken it. The outside was scored and pitted, but the inside was mostly untouched, and the luminescent paint she’d used still glowed from light exposure. The fractal design she’d painted there, meant to be visible only to herself during maintenance, was now cracked open and exposed. The Sierpiński triangles meant this was a piece of Sphecius. Sphecius, whose heavy armor had finally broken guarding her from a blow meant to crush her rib cage.

“I cannot be certain,” Takemura replied, apologetically.

“It’s alright,” she said, absently, tracing one of the triangles with her thumb. She would have taken the black boxes themselves, but once the drones were damaged badly enough they started broadcasting a signal to make them easier to find. There was a very similar box tucked up on the inside of her heavily armored breastbone, nestled between her hearts. “Thank you.”

The thanks felt inadequate in English, too trite and insincere. But she was aware again, of Johnny, watching through her eyes. Judging her reactions. He wasn’t the first to watch through her eyes, take note of what she did, measuring her thoughts and reactions. She wasn’t going to give him any further ammunition, even if it meant cheating Takemura of the thanks he truly deserved.