#caffeine save my soul

[evilminji]

Okay, so maybe it's just me? Projecting my new Tea Phase?

Cause for med reasons, no more energy drinks, only Teeeeeeaaaaa~☆

But honestly? Now that I am an adult and ACTUALLY KNOW HOW TO MAKE IT? Really digging it! Am enjoying the Teas. Mmmmmmm~ leaf broth. I like the fruity ones.

So! IMAGINE~☆ If you will:

Danny. 14 and his parents are LOUD AS FUCK (CRASH BANG SMASH BANG WHIIII-) dispite it being, once again, a school night. This has been going one For Years. That STUPID fucking machine. All God damned hours. Crashes and bangs and powertools. Explosions.

When will it ever end!

He's... he's honestly used it.

Unknowingly? This is is a skill that will come in handy later. Living and functioning while sleep deprived. Healthy? Fuck no. But it's USEFUL. He IS the ten year old downing Monster drinks in the parking lot before school.

It makes him a jittery weirdo. Twitchy. Too much caffeine, not enough sleep, his parents either blew up or TOOK APART the washing machine AGAIN. He... he never stood a chance. It's a miracle the indoor plumbing hasn't been compromised yet... AGAIN.

His blood is more sugar, caffeine, and guarana or whatever those other things in the can are, then actual human blood. He doesn't CARE. He just needs too get decent grades, graduate, and become an astronaut. It's... it's FINE. This is normal. They're FINE.

(If they weren't... someone would have noticed, right? Would have DONE something. Cared. So it HAS to be fine. His family's just weird. It's FINE.)

But THEN...

The Accident.

And his biology CHANGES. Green goo, wrapped vicious and loving, around his very DNA. Like Kintsugi of the body and soul. In green, Green, GREEN. It... it's a lot. Everything changing all at once. Maybe that's why it takes him so long to notice.

Why he thinks "oh, I'm just tired cause I'm running more then usual. Fighting and flying. Doing ghost stuff."

When... when honestly? Some part of him always kinda KNEW. From the very moment he stumbled out of the portal. The aftershocks. The pain. Sam and Tucker crying, scrambling to help him up the stairs. Sam tearing her bag apart looking for her cramps medicine. Because... because pain medication is pain medication.

"It's gonna be okay, Danny. Please. Please god, just take it! I promise it's gonna be okay!"

How do you look your panicked, crying, strongest-person-you-know best friend in the eyes and tell her... you can FEEL it dissolving in your throat. Like the pills were dumped in a human shaped pot of acid. That... that the pain isn't changing... and you... you don't think it's going too.

When you're scared. Might be dying. And you can already tell they think it's their fault. W... when you're all just KIDS. And all you can think is... you can let them know how bad... how bad it hurts...

They'd never be able to live with that knowledge.

Yeah. Yeah, Sam. Thanks. T... The pills helped a lot. He feels better. You really saved the day. He lo... loves you guys so much.

...

.....

He thinks about that moment A LOT. About how much he realized and knew, before the denial kicked in. Before he got so... Tired. Fresh of all that energy. And? You'd think he realize. The mood swings. The irritability. The headaches that disappear the SECOND he goes ghost. That he's in caffeine withdrawal. But? Nope.

He kinda blames the constant ghost attacks for distracting him.

But see... Sam? Doesn't drink tea. Goes against her diet. Tucker was where he GOT his illicit borderline illegal energy drinks. And his sister? Big on flavored sparkling waters. Which are gross to him.

His PARENTS drink a thick tar they insist is coffee. It might be liquid fudge. Zone knows its nearly the same consistency. It's horrifying. No thanks, he wants to LIVE.

It's? Ironically? Mr. Lancer and his constant detentions, that help Danny realize somethings up. Because Mr. Lancer shares. If he makes a cup for himself, he'll make one for you. It's how he was raised. And, yeah, the after school detentions? Those were herbal blends. No caffeine.

But...

But they tasted nice. Were warm. The classroom was quiet and as frustrating as it was? The tea itself? Was always... the one exception to how shit the situation was. So Danny finally broke down and asked about it. Learned Mr. Lancer knew a? Surprisingly LOT about tea. Huh.

Then one day he gets SATURDAY detention. Oh joy!

Bright and early. One of the few times he could be trying, desperately, to be sleeping through his parents cacophony. Catching up on his desperately needed Zzz's. Here he is... getting a handed a new cup of different tea?

Breakfast blend? And a bagel..

N...none hostile breakfast? A quiet space to catch up on his homework? No Dash? Just... just a quiet classroom, some tea, and the sounds on a peaceful morning outside?

......oh.

It's the best time he's had in school in... God, in YEARS. He gets so MUCH done. For once can concentrate. And? Actually, now that he thinks about it? Feels... awake? Or at the very least, not as sleepy. And being a Fenton, whom to the LAST are a genius if eccentric family, it's pretty damn easy to put two and two together.

Tea.

He felt more awake after having Lancer's breakfast blend tea.

He obviously asks about it. Then, after detention is done. Calm packs up. Goes home. Drops his back in his room. Goes ghost. And SHOOTS for the Far Frozen with his phone and an energy drink. Because clearly he's missing something and it's time to ask.

The good doctors of the Frozen are... gently horrified. Clawed hands steeples infront of their mouths as they try to tactfully figure out how to word "Great One, WHAT THE FUCK!?!? Why would you DO THIS TO YOURSELF!?" Because that... is not professional. Breathe. In, out, in, out. We can do this.

They get the most patient and restrained of their elders to... CALMLY, very VERY Calmly, ask some medical questions. Listen. Without judgements! Because they are medical professionals. Who do NOT want to scream, forever, into the void. Certainly not. So Calm! (They are going to BURN THAT CAN IN-)

Which! Huh. Yeah, that explains the constant exhaustion. He was poisoning himself. Kinda. Not so much the GHOST but the human half. Putting to much strain and too much trace chemicals, minerals, and buckets of sugar. General "mmmm :/ Don't Like THAT ™" energy from the Goo causing it too try and constantly burning it all out of existence. Endlessly.

The more he put in, the more there was to burn. The more there was to burn, the more tired he became. The more tired he became... well, the more he put in. It was a slowly lethal starvation cycle. Big Yikes.

The TEA on the other hand? Those are leaves. The good recognizes leaves and water. Other various plants, dried or otherwise. It ignores them as "fine" until they reach a "problematic" threshold, apparently? So... *blank look at the doctor*

*sighs in medical professional*

Tea? Good. Satan Can of Halfa Poison? Bad. Please drink tea.

👍🏻👍🏻👍🏻

And it's like MAGIC. He's suddenly BACK, baby! Ha ha ha! Skulker you fuckin THOUGHT?! Oh it's 2am? Well SUPRISE bitch! He's bright eyed and bushy tailed! His grades are up AND he's beating you like a drum! He has ice breakers for old people discussions now!! The local Tea Shops have NEVER been so well protected.

He actually manages to graduate with not just decent grades? But GOOD ones.

And the second. The INSTANT. He is legally his own man? Has his important paperwork squirrelled away and the go bags safely WELL outside of Amity. It's time. He meets OUTSIDE the house, because he's not an idiot. He's been practicing his Clones and has them ready to grab his parents so he can get out of there alive. Jazz is on video call from Star city.

His parents... suspected. Not at first, but as goofy as they are? They aren't ACTUALLY idiots. They've been watching, going over old research. Trying, failing, to get in touch with the League to have THEIR team test their research. Peer review is critical after all. They... they had been so certain. Are still somewhat certain.

But their research doesn't exactly ACCOUNT for this "halfa" phenomenon. So, there is a very real chance they are missing something. The one thing the DO know? Danny is their son. Stuck in some eternal mortally wounded state or not, he is a hero. And they weren't there for him.

They can't change their beliefs on a dime. But they've clearly missed a great deal. And refuse to fall to academic bias. The very thing that got them LAUGHED AT for decades. Mocked and belittled. This is their life's work. By God they WILL find out the truth.

It's? Better then he could have hoped. Not perfect. But better.

He helps set up safeties and a security check point at the portal. Both sides. He's kinda a big deal these days, mom, dad. Ghost scientists eager to work with them. A whole TEAM under their command. It certain endears ghosts to them a whole lot more. Then?

Copy of the blue prints, go bag turned into normal bags, Danny's off to college.

Bounces from major to major. Nothing really capturing his interest. As he aged, he's need less sleep. Gotten stronger. Grown into his father's height and grandfathers build. Tucker keeps calling him a dorito. Danny retaliates with Ancient Egyptian Cyber/Pharoah Twink allegations. According to SAM they are both dumbasses.

She's not WRONG... but hey D:<

Eventually? A really niche botany seminar run by Pamela Isely catches the attention of Tucker, who forwards it to him n Sam. Nice ™. It's being held in her Murder Park! Cool! Obviously they have to go. So off to Gotham they go. And? When they get there? Sam is APPALLED.

She may HATE landlords as much as the next activist.... but LOOK at all these run down, foreclosed, rotting buildings! Beautiful gothic infrastructure! Those could be businesses or homes! Danny, busy with signing them up, makes the mistake of tuning her out as she rants in fury. She does this some times. Needs to vent. Uh huh, you're very right. You should contact somebody. I agree. Mmmhmmm.

Hey, Sam, Ms. Isely needs your-....

Sam?

Oh FUCK ™.

By the time the Seminar come around? Sam has violently kicked in the door of more then a feel reality offices. Owns QUITE a few buildings. Danny is sweating. She... she's doing the THING again. The "gimme your Ghost Crew, I KNOW you have a highly specific Ghost Crew, don't you DARE lie to me or I take your knee caps, Danny" stare.

>.> Sam you can't keep doin- *stare intensifies* Yes Ma'am. *Pulls out Fenton phone* and so? Here come the renovation crew. The ONLY honest building Crew in all of Gotham. They cut no corners. Can't be threatened. Gangs, villians, and even local government office try to arrange... accidents on the build sites.

Nothing. Nada. In fact, it turns out more dangerous for THEM then this crew of outsiders!

Wtf!

Then? After these two College age weirdos finish Poison Fuckin Ivys HIGHLY SUSPECT biology seminar? Manson fucks off to who knows where! Leaving what HAS to be "the muscle" behind. Cause I mean? Look, at the guy! He's huge! And what does he do?

Goes building to building. Rents them out to low income families. Honest, hard working shop keepers. And? Eventually decides to settle smack dab in the middle of Gotham, in the shadow of Wayne fuckin tower, spitting distance from the Space museum..... and open? A tea shop? The FUCK?

"The Zone".

In a weird shade of green. With little ghosts, wearing crowns, because and I quote "it's funny"? Certainly crazy enough for Gotham. But like, it's loud as FUCK here. Crowded. There are gas attacks and shit. It'll never las-....

It stays untouched for MONTHS.

Sometimes being the ONLY building near it to be untouched. Gas NEVER getting in. The damn place a BUNKER. And? Despite looking like it's two floors? It's three. You enter and your actually on the second floor. No one's even sure where the fuck the guy LIVES, since he never seems to leave.

Not only THAT. But it... it's like one of those old school apothecaries. Big ol bank of drawers. Guy'll mix up your blend for you right as you watch. Tea nuts are actually risking COMING to Gotham to try his stuff. Writing articles. Apparently he has some pretty rare shit in those drawers.

Some UNKNOWN shit, according to one guy on ViewTube.

There's this whole debate on if it's Ultra Super Rare or that means it's just super cheap knock off crap. Some of them he won't make for people, even if they ask. There's a rumor it's for Meta's with specific diets. Or alien blends. But no one can verify that. Cause like?

Anyone who tries to cause trouble?

Can't fucking FIND the place. And if you're already inside? You just... drop. Stone cold unconscious. It's definitely magic but no one knows if it's HIS or Manson's? You know? He won't talk. Gets annoyed when harrased.

Which off course!

Leaves Only ONE gentleman for the job. An elite special forces trained expert. Polite, dignified, enjoyer of fine Teas. Alfred "Why do you chucklefucks keep forgetting I was in the Queens Service and a Registered Badass" Pennyworth.

After all! He DOES have the days shopping to do.

@babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @lolottes

[flamingtouya]

𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐩 (𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞) —

pairing: dabi + f!reader

word count: 4381

cw: getting to know each other (against your better intuition), flirting, bad flirting,some explicit language but nothing too bad, no quirk AU, dabi commits a crime or two

summary: In which Dabi meant to text Toga instead of a random stranger. But these things happen, and you were never one to shy away from troublesome men. This whole thing is told entirely through text messages.

a/n: check out my AO3 for different formatting! :)

Mar 02  10:07 PM

Unknown: Grab bleach while you’re out Unknown: And paper towels

You: who is this??

Unknown: So funny

You: u got the wrong number my guy 

Unknown: Shit Unknown: You don’t happen to have some bleach at your disposal rn? 

You: try the convenience store You: where’s the body at, anyways

Unknown: Ohara street by the fitness park, you should come check it out

You: sounds enticing You: i’ve always wanted to be on a true crime podcast

You: sort of expected myself to be the alive one though

Unknown: I was taught that women tend to be smart about stranger danger and stuff Unknown: You're out to prove me wrong

You: how’d you know i’m a woman? 🤨

Unknown: U sound cute Unknown: And men don’t listen to true crime

You: that’s so sexist You: and correct You: you'd do numbers on reddit

Mar 03 00:16 AM

You: hey don’t leave now

Mar 03 00:34 AM

Unknown: Had a body to take care of

You: you didn’t wait for me? :(

Unknown: … Unknown: Are u fr

You: ofc not You: i don’t hang out with edgelords

Unknown: Whatever u r probably boring anyways

You: entertaining enough for u to keep texting me

Unknown: We all have our moments of weakness 

Mar 03 01:09 AM

Unknown: So wyd

You: you don’t have anybody else to bother?

Unknown: I do Unknown: I want to bother you tho

You: damn, what’d i do to deserve this

Unknown: Is that a complaint

You: i have uni tomorrow and ur buzzing keeps waking me up

Unknown: Mute your phone, stupid 

You: can’t mute unknown numbers

Unknown: Save this one then Unknown: Or block me idc

You: what name should i put it under

Unknown: Dabi 

You: lmao i knew you were an edgelord

Dabi: Stfu

You: good night to you too

Mar 03  07:58 AM

You: fuck

Mar 03 3:56 PM

Dabi: Did you miss me that bad 

Mar 03 4:32 PM

You: i overslept and am blaming you entirely

Mar 03 5:19 PM 

Dabi: Sucks to be a useful member to society

You: why what do you do

Dabi: I'm actually a bit of a part-time freelancer, you regular uni folk just wouldn't get it

You: freelancing around ohara at 1 in the morning sounds like the truly fulfilling purpose we all long for You: did you just get up

Dabi: Hey now  Dabi: Yes  Dabi: I’m still in bed technically, looking at the ceiling fan is so interesting when I don't want to move a muscle

You: you are everything I am jealous of

Dabi: I promise you it’s not that good 

You: first time a guy’s been honest right away. i applaud u

Dabi: Omg no way 

Mar 03 5:40 PM

You: no way what

Dabi: No way you said something witty 

Dabi: Maybe you’re fun after all

You: i’ll have u know that deep down, i’m just a fragile being trying to make it thru this bitch of a world, running on fumes and caffeine all while chasing a childhood dream that i'll never be able to reach anyways because of my parents' expectations of me crushing my soul

Dabi: Damn, being vulnerable already 

You: your turn

Dabi: I’m not sad. My life is great and my parents never expected anything of me

Dabi: That was a lie 

You: so you’re a liar

Dabi: I suppose I might be

You: that counts as being vulnerable. i’m so proud of us. &lt;3

Mar 03 9:12 PM

You: you probably have daddy issues

Mar 03 11:34 PM 

Dabi: Mind your business 

You: so i’m right

Dabi: Nosy sounds more like it

You: that’s a yes then

Dabi: When I tell you he SUCKS so bad 

You: LMAO You: i’m guessing you don’t particularly like your family then

Dabi: It's not the type of stuff I'd tell anybody, especially not to some nosy individual whose number is one or two digits off

You: alright i’ll stop digging You: wait how old are you You: am i talking to some 50 y/o dude You: please no

Mar 04 00:02 AM

Dabi: Chill I’m 48

Mar 04 00:06 AM 

You: say sike right now You: if u rly are then i’m half your age

Dabi: You thought Dabi: Are you actually 24 tho

You: give or take a few days lol

Dabi: When’s your birthday 

You: do you want my social and tax numbers while we’re at it

Dabi: Stfu I wanna see if I’m older 

You: 🤨 You: it’s at the end of this month

Dabi: Baby 

You: are u flirting with me or insulting me

Dabi: Can’t I be doing both 

Mar 04 06:30 AM

You: love me a guy who can multitask You: did you ever get your bleach and paper towels

Mar 04 11:11 AM

You: it’s 11:11 make a wish

Mar 04 2:02 PM

You: my wish is that you’d commit to a humane sleeping schedule

Mar 04 2:59 PM 

Dabi: Anybody hear sum 

You: i heard you’re a lazy bitch You: who doesn’t even do his own grocery shopping

Dabi: Maybe I do. Maybe I got the bleach all on my own like a big boy

You: X

Dabi: What's that mean

You: X for doubt You: it’s a meme

Dabi: Here I thought we were about to get spicy 😔

You: ew

Dabi: I was joking  Dabi: …unless 

You: has anybody ever told you that your flirting is immaculate

Mar 04 7:10 PM

Dabi: What do you study 

You: are you trying to find out my location

Dabi: Let it be known I’m terrible at geography and if I wanted to stalk you I'd already be on it

You: that’s a consolation You: forensic science You: i actually can’t wait for the semester to be over bc my professor is one of the most annoying individuals i have ever had the displeasure of meeting

Dabi: So you do have bleach 

You: never said i didn’t

Dabi: What do I have to do to make the list of annoying individuals. What's my current score

You: we haven’t met You: and i’m not sure if i’d survive u

Dabi: You have a point, I'm super nice tho

You: bet You: are you handsome You: asking for a friend You: the handsome ones are usually more annoying

Dabi: I'll say I’m frighteningly unique-looking 

You: ...well played

Mar 04 10:09 PM 

Dabi: My boss is making me do errand work in the morning like I'm some kind of functioning human being with principles Dabi: The next piercing I’m getting is a lobotomy 

You: thought you were “freelancing”

Dabi: Freelancing only gets you so far. You'll understand when you're my age

You: can't imagine what the back pain must be like You: do you have a tongue piercing 👀

Dabi: Perhaps I do

You: u r so mysterious You: tell me an opinion 

Dabi: Mint ice cream makes my teeth feel weird 

You: that’s not an opinion 

Dabi: Alright, more foods should have mint in them. And coriander. I want to make things inedible for 80% of the human population

You: nvm keep your opinions to yourself 

Mar 05 02:26 AM

Dabi: I've gotta burn this number. Txt u in a few 

Mar 05 05:16 AM

You: what are you, some kind of druglord This message could not be delivered.

You: I knew it This message could not be delivered.

Mar 0512:03 PM

You: ayo are you still there This message could not be delivered.

You: this is only funny if you come clean right now This message could not be delivered.

Mar 05 4:16 PM

You: "text you in a few" minutes? hours? days? This message could not be delivered.

You: just know that if it takes to long i'll forget about u This message could not be delivered.

You: won't even miss u This message could not be delivered.

Mar 06 09:00 AM

You: hello is this thing on This message could not be delivered.

Mar 07 3:15 PM

You: my social security number is 6007 0023 6799 0324 This message could not be delivered.

Mar 07 8:46 PM

You: eggs, vinegar, panko, sprite, sliced ham, parmesan, deodorant sencha if they have the good one ground pepper, lemon juice This message could not be delivered.

Mar 08 04:44 AM

Unknown: Am I still the man of ur dreams

You: I'm killing you You: violently

Unknown: I was hoping softly Unknown: With your song

You: are these messages being monitored You: am i a suspect

Unknown: If they were, could I write that I'm a ruthless baby killer anti-government fuck the police pro abortion the prime minister is an idiot bomb. bomb at the airport, terrorism, detonate Unknown: I guess now they are

Dabi was added as a contact.

You: just when i thought i'd have to find another witty asshole with a tongue piercing

Dabi: Aw you missed me Dabi: Does my tongue piercing make me hot be honest

You: what are my chances of getting an explanation for the past few days You: are u a murderer fr, that would be so cool You: i totally didn't use our abandoned chat as a grocery list btw

Dabi: The only thing I slay is pussy 😎

You: somehow i have doubts about that statement You: animal abuse is no joke

Dabi: I'm thinking of a number between 1 and 100, if you guess it correctly I'll tell u everything

You: 69

Mar 08 08:21 AM

Dabi: It was 72 Dabi: Because you were so close I'll give u one free question. But I want another one in return

You: you're a dirty little gremlin who plays dirty little games You:: do i get to ask a follow-up question

Dabi: No

You: in that case You: which of the following activities did you partake in? 1.) vandalism 2.) drug dealing 3.) drug trafficking 4.) violent crimes 5.) violent crimes that resulted in the death of one or more individuals 6.) assisting someone in a violent crime 7.) assisting someone in a non-violent crime 8.) theft 9.) robbery 10.) hate crimes against a minority 11.) politically motivated acts of defiance 12.) consumption of illegal substances 13.) running and/or hiding from law enforcement 14.) domestic terrorism 15.) human trafficking 16.) money laundering 17.) having a good time

Dabi: What the fuck Dabi: What is this, a multiple choice? Dabi: 1, 4, 6, 7, 8, 13 Dabi: My turn Dabi: What's your favourite food

You: fr, just like that You: that's your one question out of everything you could ask? am i really that boring

Dabi: I ask what I ask

You: spicy miso ramen with minced pork You: can we go back to the part where you ran from law enforcement

Dabi: Don't we all have demons that we run from Dabi: Mine are just a bit more persistent

Mar 08 10:52 AM

You: i want another question

Dabi: If you come up with one that's not related to the past few days, go ahead

You: fine i'll take it You: have you ever been caught and gotten in legal trouble for one of your… dubious activities

Dabi: Yeah

You: …and?

Dabi: That's another question. Gonna trade?

You: fine

Dabi: When I was 16, two Officers Of The Law 🐷 caught me dumpster diving behind a 7/11 Dabi: The dumpster diving wasn't the crime but because it was on private property they charged me with trespassing

You: damn, that's a lot of truth from u in just two sentences You: i wanna know ur tragic backstory so bad

Dabi: You could try to get me all sentimental for the 6 minutes after really good sex before the post nut clarity sets in

You: uh huh, taking notes You: anyway. you get one question. think hard

Dabi: If you couldn't have minced pork on your ramen, what would your second topping choice be

You: you're impossible

Mar 08 1:27 PM

You: tori karaage or extra ni-tamago i guess

Mar 08 2:23 PM

Dabi: Doesn't the Karaage lose its crispiness if it's in the broth for too long Dabi: I wouldn't know

You: please let me recommend you a good ramen place, you seem like you'd need it

Dabi: You have no idea. Take me out

You: like romantically? or are you asking me to murder you

Dabi: I love surprises

You: i just laughed out loud in the middle of my lecture

Mar 08 7:18 PM

Dabi: Need your forensic expertise for a sec

You: …oh no

Dabi: It's a purely hypothetical scenario

You: alright lay it on me big boy

Dabi: If a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person were to climb over a 4,60 meter high fence that has electrical wiring on it Dabi: What would the most likely way for them to die be?

You: this is not forensic at all You: how strong is the electricity You: is there a way to shut it off You: where would you hold onto the fence You: can it be damaged

Dabi: Not me, a 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person

You: where would THE 176 CM TALL AND 67 KG HEAVY PERSON HOLD ONTO THE FENCE

Dabi: The only points that provide decent grip surface are the hooks holding the wires in place

You: so the most likely way to die would be electrocution You: will that be all

Dabi: How would one determine whether the electricity has been properly shut off Dabi: In the theoretical scenario that you couldn't get close enough to hear

You: the 176 cm tall and 67 kg heavy person should tap the wiring from the bottom with the back of their hand You: that way their fingers curl downwards and not around the wire You: so the person won't DIE from ELECTROCUTION

Mar 09 00:08 AM

Dabi: Excellent Dabi: Gonna do some field research Dabi: Will report back in maybe a day

Mar 09 08:01 AM

You: i'm gonna be so mad if you die before you've had decent karaage This message could not be delivered.

Mar 11 6:10 PM

Unknown: So it turns out that the person did not have to climb the fence after all. Pliers are such useful tools Unknown: Thanks for the electricity tip tho

Mar 11 6:39 PM

Dabi was added as a contact.

You: you're so hot when you're alive 

Mar 11 9:14 PM

Dabi: Do u think I'm a catch 😏

You: judging by the way law enforcement is trying to get their hands on you, i'd say you're pretty slippery

Dabi: The slipperiest Dabi: You couldn't handle me

You: i'd trap you using cheese and a paper box  You: put you in a jar and turn you into spicy miso broth 

Dabi: Would you hold the jar tight at night and tell me everything's going to be okay 

You: of course 

Dabi: I'm liking this scenario 

Mar 12 01:07 AM 

Dabi: Ever thought about what Mint Karaage would taste like

Mar 12 01:23 AM

You: i need u 

Dabi: Tell me more

You: to shut your mouth

Dabi: Are you trying to romance me

Mar 12 07:15 AM

You: i'm actually so upset right now  You: can i vent

Mar 12 07:27 AM

Dabi: Listening Dabi: Am I gonna have to get the tissues out

You: you're not empathetic enough for that 

Dabi: How would you know 

You: call it a woman's intuition  You: i just need someone to bother about my hot girl troubles

Dabi: Let's hear it girl  Dabi: Men ain't shit 💅

You: damn right they aren't You: but unrelated to that You: i ran out of my medication a few days ago and thought if i stretched the remaining 3 pills to last me 6 days i'd be able to make it till the end of the week  You: now my doctor's office is closed and i can't seem to get an appointment anywhere You: and i'm super jittery and on edge and almost had a panic attack just trying to make coffee

Dabi: What type of medication 

You: Ativan You: it's prescription only

Dabi: Nothing is ever "prescription only" 

You: i'm not gonna try some experimential backalley drug You: just feel like dying rn

Dabi: Who said anything about backalley? You actually came to the right guy for this  Dabi: What's the name of the nearest druggery 

You: ...fukuju pharmacy

Dabi: So I've been talking to a Setagaya girl 

You: only moved here for uni, hate to disappoint if ur expecting a wealthy maiden 

Mar 12 10:02 AM

Dabi: Don't you feel like getting a snack from the vending machine  Dabi: Specifically the one next to the pharmacy  Dabi: A bag of skittles sounds nice, doesn't it?

You: ? ? ?

Mar 12 10:34 AM 

You: did you commit a crime for me  You: how did you get your hands on actual fucking Ativan this fast

Dabi: I don't kiss and tell

You: did you follow me home  You: is this how i die

Dabi: You make it so hard to be nice to you Dabi: What do you think I am, a creep

You: if you were here i'd suck you off so good rn

Dabi: Whore Dabi: (Respectfully)

You: lmao ur right You: thank you for real though

Dabi: Stfu

Mar 12 1:33 PM

Dabi: Do u like cats

You: yes

Dabi sent an image.

Dabi: Noodle thieving menace 

You: 🥹 You: that has got to be the fattest street cat i’ve ever seen

Dabi: He’s hella fast 

You: how does it feel to be the one chasing the culprit for once

Dabi: Not nearly as thrilling as being the one committing the crime 

Mar 13 00:00 AM

Unknown: Congratulations! You have been selected as an eligible member for a free trial of Osaka Daily Post. Unknown: If you would like information about your benefits, reply 'BENEFIT' Unknown: If you would like to stop receiving these messages, reply 'STOP' 

You: i know it's you shithead

Unknown: Your message could not be processed. 

You: this is the unfunniest you've ever been ngl

Unknown: Your message could not be processed. 

You: you're truly one of the most annoying individuals in my life

Unknown: Your message could not be processed. 

You: STOP

Unknown: LMAO you thought

Dabi was saved as a contact. 

You: i'm reconsidering if the tongue piercing is really worth it 😤

Mar 13 04:55 AM

Dabi: Any particular reason why you chose forensics 

Mar 13 06:09 AM

You: i've always admired criminals but been to scared to become one You: and if i know about psychotic assholes it might help me to steer clear of them, or so i thought

Dabi: Is it working

You: evidently not

Dabi: Use me in ur thesis  Dabi: I'll be your lab rat

You: nah you're more beneficial to me when you're not stuck behind bars You: what do you have me saved as in your phone

Dabi: I don't save contacts  Dabi: Especially not yours  Dabi: You mean nothing to me 

You: aww do you know my number by heart, that's adorable You: i'm kinda genuinely impressed at how persistent you are at bothering me, it's almost like you like me or smth

Dabi: No fr though lmao if anybody finds my phone you'd be on a list

You: do u delete these chats

Dabi: Always

You: that's so romantic You: admit it you're actually a softie

Dabi: Would that make you more interested in me  Dabi: Then I'm the softest 

You: what do i need to do to make you the hardest

Dabi: ... Dabi: There's absolutely no correct way for me to respond to that  Dabi: You've left me speechless 

You: 🥵🥵

Dabi: What's your worst quality  Dabi: Besides being an irresistible smartass  Dabi: *irritating 

You: was that a freudian slip You: you're so obsessed with me it's adorable

Dabi: Proving my point so diligently 

You: you don't seem like the kind of person who would use words like 'diligently' You: i'm rather talkative at times You: to the point where it gets unbearable to listen to me

Dabi: I never would've guessed

You: what's yours? You: besides the obvious

Dabi: Still putting up with you 

Mar 13 7:45 PM

Dabi: Wyd 

You: i burned my rice a little You: but it's edible

Dabi: Don't you have a rice cooker? Who raised you 

You: my very strict but sweet and committed grandmother who made the best teriyaki salmon in the whole world You: i'd kill another human being to eat her home cooked food one more time

Dabi: So your parents ain't shit either 

You: eh, they're alright You: they're Business People overseas and aren't around a whole lot, means i get my own place though You: so i can have visitors at any desired hour 😏

Dabi: Omg sick Dabi: Me next

You: it was implied

Mar 13 11:11 PM

Dabi: Ok but do u actually wanna meet up sometime  Dabi: No strings attached ofc 

You: i'm down

Dabi: What if I'm a creep after all

You: if anything, it means i won't have to attend my lecture about carbon dots tmrw

Dabi: I can't tomorrow  Dabi: What about the day after Dabi: I'll give u my credit card info if it makes you feel more safe, don't bother trying to buy anything with it tho, you'll be disappointed

You: you may not show it a whole lot, but are you actually a considerate person? You: the day after sounds good

Dabi: Preem

You: oreryu shio ramen, right by harajuku station You: about time you had some good karaage You: my treat You: unless that's too far away for u

Dabi: I would fly across the world for u Dabi: Yes Harajuku works fine

Mar 14 08:49 AM

You: how will i recognise u You: what do u look like

Dabi: As my dad once said. I'm impossible to miss 

You: i laughed

Dabi: Guess it was all worth it then  Dabi: Do tattoos scare you

You: i was gonna ask cause there's no way you got only a tongue piercing and nothing else You: stand there with your tongue out

Dabi: Shouldn't we at least get to know each other before 😳

You: don't get any ideas  You: i don't intend to fuck u You: ...for now

Dabi: That's a relief, I thought I might have to file a restraining order afterwards 

Mar 14 1:42 PM 

Dabi sent an image. 

Dabi: If u see this guy u can still run the other way 

You: hhh fuck You: are u trying to intimidate me You: how do you have so many tattoos but no bedframe

Dabi: Cut me some slack, I just moved into this place 

You: fair warning i'm not as hot as u

Dabi: Bet 

You sent an image. 

Dabi: Why do women always lie. I thought you were better. I thought you were different

You: 😳 You: i'm actually worse

Dabi: We're such a good match

You: don't get ahead of urself. u r still a guy with no bedframe

Dabi: Please shut up

Mar 14 4:16 PM

Dabi: To be clear I'm not bringing flowers or anything  Dabi: And I'm actually willing to let you pay this time lol 

You: you have such a unique way with words 

Dabi: A bit tight on money rn but I'll pay u back some other way 

You: can we make that the first line in our sextape  You: dw i said it's my treat and i mean it You: does that make you feel emasculated

Dabi: Who would I be to say no to free food tf Dabi: If there's a next time I can take you out for drinks  Dabi: Nothing fancy but an old friend of mine owns a bar downtown and his girlfriend mixes a killer mule 

You: if you're gonna poison me after gaining my trust over my favourite food i will be incredibly sad 

Dabi: Give me some credit here. I'm trusting u to not rat me out to law enforcement 

You: you're giving me ideas You: is there a bounty on your head

Dabi: I'm not that important 

Mar 14 9:44 PM

You: so you're just too good to get caught

Dabi: Both flattering and factually correct Dabi: For the record I've never harmed anybody that didn't deserve it 

You: thanks for clarifying  You: i feel so safe now 

Dabi: Anytime  Dabi: If you're having second thoughts lmk before 10 am so I won't spend time getting ready for nothing 

You: 10 am is crazy  You: u r so vain 

Dabi: Alright then I won't 😔

You: i take it back You: be pretty for me

Mar 15 5:30 AM

You: can't sleep 

Mar 15 7:12 AM

Dabi: How the turntables  Dabi: Are you alright

You: yes  You: it's the good kind of sleepless 

Dabi: It's fine if you're having second thoughts, I won't hold it against you at all  Dabi: Just texting like this is nice too

You: fuck no i wanna meet the man behind the screen You: the myth, the legend, the crimelord himself 

Dabi: I'm never showing consideration for ur wellbeing ever again 

You: should've ghosted me before i got attached

Mar 15 9:54 AM

Dabi: Last chance to bail gracefully  

You: you make it so tempting 

Dabi: Getting out of bed then 

You: it's not a bed if it doesn't have a bedframe

Dabi: Shut, and I mean this in the gentlest way possible, the hell your mouth

Mar 15 12:08 PM

Dabi sent a location pin.

Dabi: Is this the place

You: that's the one  You: be there in a few minutes 

Dabi: I'm waiting outside 

Mar 15 12:13 PM

You: omg i think i see u You: im shy

Dabi: U literally have so much blackmail material on me 

You: give me a second You: alright I'm coming over This message could not be delivered.

[morguecuts]

Love Laced Caffeine

five hargreeves x fem!reader synopsis: lovey dovey morning with five :)  word count: 1.1k tags: lots of fluff and cute moments  authors note: i love adding pre-story lore, but if im too detailed pls yell at me, okay thx enjoy! dedication: my bestfriend @solspina who sits with me everynight as i write. i love you forever. check out her work if you enjoy warhammer, the stories are absolutely incredible.

♱⛧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⛧♱

the constant impending apocalypse is no longer a worry ever since the world was saved. special abilities have only ever been used in a joking, or more importantly an emergency manner, since then. you met the umbrella academy in 2019 but are now 3 years deep into a very loving and committed relationship with arguably the grumpiest family member, five hargreeves. 

he was surprisingly the sweetest person you’ve ever met. the overprotective nature of his actions was incredibly attractive. his words were only ever gentle towards you, a walking example of hating everybody who wasn't his lover. his “old soul” showed itself in the way that he treated the relationship with you. 

he constantly took you on dates, sometimes small, like watching a movie at the nearby theater, or larger, like trips across the world to go sightseeing. five bought you a multitude of gifts since you’ve been together as well. the most cherishable was the silver chain that dangled from your neck, symbolizing the first time he admitted he was in love with you. ever since then, you’ve dedicated yourself to being the only person he will ever need. to this day, he is still trying to repay you for loving him this hard. 

there was always a peaceful sensation waking up in the academy house. the feeling of being surrounded by those who love you, everyday, brings a smile to your face. the siblings agreed on not moving out for a couple years, taking time to overcome the years of trauma collected more recently. although you would like to have your own place with your boyfriend, there's no harm staying here with everyone else for a while longer. 

you remove the weighted sheets off five’s bed allowing the breeze to strike your body. the shock of the cold floor sends a bone chilling feeling starting from the bottoms of your feet, all the way to the tips of your hair. there's a slight grumble coming from the boy still lying in the bed. a combination of annoyance and sadness stretched across his half-awake face. 

“please, a couple more minutes..” his face turns to face your direction, sleepy eyes barely open but still pleading with yours. a lone arm reaches out to grab yours, a small attempt at preventing you from leaving.

“as cute as you are, i really want to go downstairs for coffee.” you lean into his touch, bending down to place a kiss on his lips. a smile creeps upon the boy, a sly hand wrapping around your waist dragging you down onto his chest. you let out a surprised eek before giggling. 

“can you survive 20 minutes without coffee?” he nuzzles into the crook of your neck, rubbing your back subconsciously.

“fine, 20 minutes and then i’m getting up without or without you.” you look up smiling at him, the boy leaning down to kiss you once more. his gentle touch makes you sigh into him, melting into his body, relaxing against his chest. he pulls away and wraps the bed sheets back over the two of you. 

the combination of a cold room, warm bed and safe boyfriend creates a comforting environment, your eyes fall drowsy before slipping into darkness. when you awake, the bed is empty, no five to be seen anywhere. you rub your eyes confused, sit up for a moment and sigh. a faint smell of coffee is brewing in the distance, most likely in the downstairs kitchen. you decide to follow the scent trail in hopes that your boyfriend is waiting for you at the end of it. 

the house is peacefully quiet, a gentle hum lingers over the hallways. you make your way down towards the rest of the house, whispers and giggles come from beyond the doors of other bedrooms. you pass viktor going up the stairs as you come down, greeting with a cheerful embrace and soft smile. 

“seen five anywhere?” you ask, pulling back.

“hmm, kitchen i think? was making pancakes when i passed by” he smiles at you before turning to continue his journey upstairs. with a small nod, you thank him.

rounding the kitchen's large wall, you see five standing over what seems to be the pancakes cooking on the stove. his back is facing you, unaware that you entered the room. his hair is still messy as if he woke up moments ago, loose black sweats hang from his waistline, a green jumper embracing his torso. the record player sits in the living room, playing distant calming jazz music as five hums along. 

you creep up behind him, wrapping arms around his waist and laying your head onto his shoulder. his body tenses for a minute before relaxing, his arm bends backwards to hold your waist, pressing you into him. 

“good morning, love. i was going to bring this up to you, but now you’re already here” he speaks while flipping the soft flannel cake on the pan. he gently places the spatula onto the counter, spinning in a circle to face you. your hands still wrapped around his stomach carefully, holding his touch.

“mm sorry, i smelled coffee and knew i’d find you somewhere nearby” you smiled up at him, his deep brown eyes staring back before leaning down. he places a gentle kiss upon your lips, hands cupping your face as he does so. you lean into his hands, kissing him back while running hands to the back of his neck.

his hands rest on the backs of your thighs momentarily before he bends into a swift motion, picking you up and gently setting you down onto the closet counter. you pull back from him, laughing at his action. he shoots a grin in your direction before turning back to the well toasted hotcakes. there's a peaceful silence between the two of you before he speaks up once more.

“coffee is still hot, want me to make you a cup?” his loving tone swoons you everytime he offers to do even the smallest things. you nod yes before he swiftly turns to begin making the warm beverage. the boy presents the drink just how you like. it didn't take him long to memorize exactly how you favor it.

everything he does for you is a constant act of service, from a small cup of coffee, to a full platter of breakfast foods, or even carrying you upstairs to lay together once you’re happily full of food. his love for you is laced in the caffeine high that he brings with every kiss.

 ♱⛧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆⛧♱

thank you so much for reading!

i hope you’ve enjoyed it, please feel free to make any comments or story requests down below. any support is always appreciated <3

[hansensgirl]

🪽— 𝐒𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐱

summary. | Steve Rogers is a good man. You’re a good woman. Emotional affairs are harder than they seem.

pairings. | Steve Rogers x fem!reader, Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter, fem!reader x OMC (brief), Peggy Carter x Daniel Sousa

warnings. | ANGST, light smut, allusions to sex, cheating, emotional affairs, pregnancy (not the reader), crying, bad family, sadness, age gap, power dynamics (boss x employee), Christmas, heavy petting, kissing, broken vase (accidentally), sadness, drinking, smoking, nightmares, mild argument, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. | ~2.5k

author's note. | hi! i'm sort of back. i'm very sorry for my hiatus. here's a new fic! this is based on the lyrics from Phoebe Bridgers' Savior Complex, which is one of my favourite songs of all time. let me know what you think! taglist: @hansensfics. i might delete this one, but please don’t save it or upload it anywhere. thanks! MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY!

He’s your boss. You work directly under him.

He isn’t bossy. Really, it’s an issue. Every time he gives you a task, he says ‘sorry’ first and finishes the order with another apology. You tell him he doesn’t have to apologize, but you’ve got the same problem as well. It’s always atonement for something you haven’t even done. You wouldn’t hurt a fly unless it hurt him.

Mr. Rogers is very nice. He has a secret office that he lets you stay in whenever you want. There’s a couch from one country and a desk from another. Each item is foreign in this room.

You’re always so tired, but he tells you to avoid caffeine. He gives you a blanket and tells you to lie down. You listen at first but can never relax. Not when you know he’ll be alone.

The honesty was a mistake at first. Mr. Rogers is so sensitive that he feels what you feel. He knows you so well that if something’s wrong, he’ll bother you until confession. You tell him almost anything, biting your tongue when you know you get too close to baring your entire soul.

The male friend of yours who keeps asking you out. The exams you study for to no avail. Your parents’ absence. Mr. Rogers—Steve, he insists—is a good listener and very wise. It makes sense. He’s much older than you and was on his own adventures when you were born.

The adventures are where he met his wife. Her name is Margaret, and she’s everything you aren’t. She’s headstrong and beautiful beyond words. She’s good with numbers and brilliant. She knows what she wants and will stop at nothing to get them.

Peggy is a real keeper. The wedding rings on their fingers prove this well.

Nothing more than a few kisses and caresses have intertwined you and Steve. Nothing physical, at least.

You’re quiet around him. Never say anything more than a sentence. You shy away when your eyes met, especially if he says something sweet.

Words take up the space as you grow closer. Steve is particularly good with words, whereas you often stutter and blend words together.

And sometimes, there is complete silence. It’s contentful. He replies to emails, and you sort through the pile of mess in the corner.

You tell him your dreams, and he tells you the ones he’s already fulfilled. What he studied in school, his family, his friends, his favourite country he’s been to. Nothing about Peggy—neither of you can bear it.

Unless she’s done something that’s hurt his feelings—like when she swears she doesn’t talk to Daniel Sousa anymore, but he hears them calling late at night.

Sometimes, Steve talks for so long that it gets dark, and your shift is over. He pays you extra—or, at least, tries to. You never take the money because nothing was lost. You enjoy the little time you have with him.

He takes you home, wanting you to avoid walking down the street in the pitch-black evening.

His car is a mess—the same as his office. He apologizes sincerely and pushes everything in the front seat to the back. The directions consist of “take a left” and “keep going straight.” You assume he’ll forget it. You don’t know how much this means to him.

Steve stays parked outside your building when you rush to your room. You live on the bottom floor and are right by the entrance. You’re a movie’s heroine when you throw yourself on your bed and giggle, butterflies filling your stomach.

He is something. The scriptwriter has Steve’s dialogue under his name but with “CHARACTER: TBA” in parentheses. No one knows if the film will be completed. No one knows how it will end.

Mr. Rogers stays parked outside, forehead resting against his steering wheel, and he’s trying to get a hold of his nerves.

Eventually, he grabs his pack of cigarettes that he always hides from Peggy. She often reminds him of his mother—without the sagacity. She tells Steve what he should or shouldn’t do a lot. He hasn’t lived since he breathed you in.

He smokes with the windows up, tears flowing down his face because he knows this can’t happen. He cannot betray his wife, but he doesn’t want to hurt you.

Steve comes to you on a starry night. You can see the moon and something else twinkling through the trees, and he rings your doorbell.

When you open the door, he’s a large man cowering like a small child. He wants to cry—you can tell. His mouth is in a frown that won’t disappear, and his eyes are glassy.

He’s drunk when he practically falls on top of you. He is slurring apologies that you know are unnecessary. His breath smells of whiskey, and he’s very heavy. You’ve fantasized about him on top of you during restless sleeps, but not quite like this.

Somehow, you crawl out from underneath the older, married man. You know it would be fruitless to lift Steve up, so you drag him to your bedroom.

You keep the door to the bathroom open and bring a bucket as well. The water on your bedside table is his now, and so is the charger and landline. Anything he wants of yours, he can have. He doesn’t even have to ask.

It’s hard to sleep when the one you desire so profoundly is in your bed, sadder than he should be. He drifts off with ease, but he’s violent in his tossing and turning. He shines with sweat and tears, soaking your sheets with his scent. You’re not sure if you’ll wash them. It’s a nightmare you can’t rouse him from, one that you don’t dare to ask him about the next morning.

Steve must’ve woken up on the wrong side of the bed. It’s small, too small for his big being. Or maybe it’s his hangover—perhaps even hunger. You offer to make whatever, but he grumbles.

He’s not sure why he’s taking his disappointment out on you. He wasn’t trying to test you, but you should’ve turned him away. You should’ve told him to go back home to his wife with her expected child inside her womb, but you don’t know this terrible secret. If you did, it would tear you apart from the inside out. This, he knows, for sure.

Mr. Rogers doesn’t say much to you in the morning, drinking two cups of coffee and staring out the window. You sit across him, and he looks past your face—the very visage he can never seem to tear his eyes away from.

“You shouldn’t have let me stay,” he finally says.

“Why not?” you ask, “you came here yourself. I could never turn you away.”

“You need to. You need to go out and, I don’t know, spend time with boys your age. Boys who don’t have wives or girlfriends they won’t leave you for.”

You flinch as if he’s raised one of his gentle hands.

Steve sighs. “That’s not what I meant. I think the lines between us have blurred. We’re not doing the right thing here, honey.”

You can’t look up, can’t face him. You wish this wasn’t the topic. You wish he had told you about his dream instead, and you would have told him yours. The one where he leaves you, the one where he gets his happy ever after with Peggy, and you get nothing.

He gives you a kiss on the head and bids you goodbye. You’re happy you have a day off tomorrow.

It’s almost Christmas, about two weeks since the conversation. Steve tries to make things seem normal. Normal in the sense that he hasn’t made his employee fall hopelessly in love with him. Then, normal in the sense that Peggy doesn’t exist, and he can still keep you in his arms until a customer comes in.

You go on dates with your guy friend like Mr. Rogers has insisted, but they’re unfulfilling. He often prefers to stay home and rent a movie, followed by sloppy kisses and dry humping that is unsatisfactory for only you.

“You don’t have to go out with only him,” Steve reminds you one day. You’re in his lap and he’s just finished reading through his entire diary with you. Most pages are about the employee he’s infatuated with, few are about his wife.

“I know. I just don’t want anyone else but you,” you tell him.

Moments later, his mouth is on your neck and his hand is up your skirt. You’re just about to come when a delivery man walks in, calling your boss’ name.

The shop is closed for a week, and your father has invited you to visit him and his new family. Your step-sisters are older and runway-ready. They have wonderful jobs and husbands that aren’t seeing women younger than them.

It’s like a closed practice. An event you can only watch from afar. You have no place here, even if your stepmother cleaned the guest room for you. You book a new plane ticket so you can go home early. You don’t make an excuse because they don’t even ask why; they just bid you goodbye.

You land at a horrible hour. There are too many taxis that families need—families trying to have a nice, hurt-free holiday.

And so you call Steve, and he answers on the first ring.

“Hello?” he greets, and you can sense some kind of anxiety in his voice.

“Um, hi. Happy holidays,” you tell him, nervous beyond belief as well.

His voice is smooth like honey, crooning in your frost-bitten ear.

“Happy holidays, baby,” he says. Peggy isn’t nearby.

“Uh, I’m at the airport. I was with my dad’s family, but I left. I don’t know how to get home. All the taxis are taken up.”

“I’m on my way, okay? Just sit tight, sweetie.”

“Thank you,” you exhale, “thank you so much, Steve.”

“Anything for my girl.”

When he arrives, he finds a place to quickly park. He takes your sole suitcase out of your hands and presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

It’s sudden.

Mr. Rogers—your boss, a married man—is kissing you like you’re his only lover. Like he’s your boyfriend, and he’s missed you dearly.

You lean in for more, and he pulls away. Smiling, he opens the car door for you.

He takes the long way home, the ones with few cars driving alongside.

“I didn’t know you left,” he eventually says.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry. It was a last-minute thing.”

“No, no. Don’t apologize. I went to your place to say ‘hi,’ but no one was home.”

“I should’ve told you. I really am sorry,” you profess.

Steve places a finger on your mouth, shushing you. His hand moves to cup your cheek, and you push your face further into his palm.

“Thank you for picking me up,” you whisper, looking at him intently.

“I’m glad you called me. I missed you. I would do anything for you.”

You say nothing to that. You turn the radio on and the last song is one you recommended to him. You both hum the lyrics until it ends, and he turns it off.

“I always enjoy it when you drive me,” you confess after a while.

“Oh yeah? Why?” he smiles.

“You’re careful. You don’t go too fast or slow. You know what you’re doing. You’re such a pro at it,” you explain, slightly self-conscious of your reasoning.

“That all?” Steve teases, raising his eyebrows.

“Hm… No… I love your hands.” You giggle.

“Yeah? I know you do, baby. Always starin’ at them. I bet you think of them touching you all the time,” he rasps, briefly letting go of the wheel to rub at his beard.

You squeeze your thighs, mind already turning with scenarios where Steve touches you like a starved man.

His hand on your face moves back to your mouth, thumb swiping your bottom lip before pushing in. You suck on the digit, giving it the treatment you would to his cock. When you reach out to touch him, the car suddenly halts.

He stops on the side of the road, eyes watering. Regret etches his features, and you know what’s to come.

“We can’t,” Steve says, pulling his finger out. “Not yet, at least.”

“I know” is all you have to give.

Peggy visits the store in early March. Underneath her shirt is a small baby bump.

When you see it, your heart stops.

Steve brushes past you to lead her away, examining your face for hurt. You’re behind the shelves and watch the couple, your mouth parted with your eyes threatening to leak. You turn and head towards the back, choosing to hide somewhere so you can fall apart in solitude.

Mr. Rogers watches as you leave. He wishes you would look back and give him something, anything. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to hurt you this way. But he did, and he will try to make it right.

Peggy leaves eventually, and Steve closes the store early. He searches for you, listening for a sniffle or movement.

You sit on the floor, a broken vase next to you. He quickly nudges the debris away so you don’t get hurt.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he says, looking down at you. You look up, eyes bloodshot, and you stare at him with something he can’t place. He envelopes you in a hug, and you can feel his erratic heart clamouring against your face.

“Come with me to the office, please,” Steve begs.

You shake your head.

“You ask too much of me, Steve. You have a wife and an innocent child on the way. We can’t keep doing this.”

“No, no. Please, just come. Please, honey,” he pleads once more. “At least hit me, yell at me, tell me to go fuck myself.”

“Why would I? I’m happy for you. You’re getting what you’ve always wanted.” Your voice cracks, and you force a smile. Steve sees through it all.

“No. I want you—I love you. But I don’t have you, do I? Listen, I’ll leave her. I’ll still be a good father, even though I know that’s not my kid at all. We’ll go elsewhere. Move into a nice home and do whatever we want,” he rambles.

Strong Mr. Rogers breaks apart in front of you. You take him into your arms, and you both cry together.

You’re the one that leads him to his office. You sit on the couch with him and notice that his wedding band is gone. He always wears it when Peggy comes by, but he didn’t this time.

“That night you took me in—I dreamt of you. I dreamt you weren’t mine, and you didn’t love me anymore. I messed something up and didn’t fix it. It was the worst nightmare I’ve ever had,” Steve admits.

You don’t say anything. As much as the whole ordeal hurts you, as terrible as what you’ve done to a woman and her child, you can’t let Steve go. Neither can he. It’ll have to end someday, just not now. Not yet.

[meandhisjohn]

News from a crazy mind...

Sherlock, mental health and the support from a fandom.

When Sherlock becomes what the doctor ordered....

100 days lie between those moments.

100 days since I wanted to die.

100 days since I emailed Dignitas.

100 days full of struggle and hope.

100 days later I made it out of hell again.

A handful of people who showed me unconditional love during the hardest setback of my disorder career.

I will love them till the day I die.

And once again the Sherlock world saved my soul before I destroyed it myself.

A fandom full of kindness and support and a detective and a doctor who saved me in more ways than they can ever imagine.

Had a doctors appointment on Friday and I have one hell of a doctor.

Not as good as John Watson but highly supportive of anything that increases my strength.

We talked about a little miracle.

A miracle that sounds so incredibly stupid but it is such a huge thing.

For the past five years I have to take besides my regular medication in mornings and in the evenings a little extra cocktail of meds in the afternoon to keep my extreme nervousness in check.

I'm nervous and tense 24/7 and it takes a toll on my body sometimes.

It makes it very hard to sleep and to find a way to sit still.

So the extra meds are necessary..

Ten days ago I started to listen to Podfics and quickly discovered a new way to enjoy the Sherlock universe.

I'm 43 years old and retired since I was 39 because my body couldn't take the stress anymore.

I have some free times during the day and I made it a habit for the past ten days to listen to Podfics in the afternoon and again at night.

And suddenly I could sleep and, and here comes the miracle..

I forgot to take my afternoon meds.

Even more my body relaxed in a way I haven't experienced in decades.

My body was obviously as surprised as I am because since a few days I have to drink a coffee in the afternoon, otherwise I would fall asleep.

I can only drink coffee without caffeine which tastes awful but otherwise my nervousness goes through the roof and I shake like a leaf.

But now instead of taking an extra dose of anxiety relief pills I take a real good old black coffee full of caffeine after listening to Podfics.

And that sounds incredibly ridiculous but for me it is a miracle because for the first time in over 15 years I feel calm and not because of a chemical reaction but because of a human reaction.

I know @totallysilvergirl had no idea what would happen by telling me about Podfics but I will never forget it!

Back to my incredible doctor who saw the change from a person who was determined to end this endless circle of depression and anxiety to a person who smiles again.

Now he ordered a six months try of daily Podfics ( no joke) to see if my blood levels improves and accordingly my medication can be reduced.

He knows that in the past three years my disorder was always better during my Sherlock highs so he is actually happy about the new development.

Long story short ( too late I know)

Do whatever feels right for you!

Invent your own therapy!

Do what makes you happy no matter how unconventional it might be.

Because you matter!!!!

I attach you my new and exciting Podfic collection for you.

Maybe you will find something you like.

Of course everything is available in Reading form as well.

Be happy in your own, weird, wonderful way.

@keirgreeneyes @discordantwords @a-victorian-girl @bewitched-bullet @lisbeth-kk @whatnext2020 @inevitably-johnlocked @barachiki @babaybo @jobooksncoffee @rey-jake-therapist @missdeliadili @helloliriels @podfixx @johnlocky @johnlockpodficclub @johnlockficclub @peanitbear @strawberrywinter4 @chocolate1elise @kettykika78

[originalcharactersexyman]

Hiya! Howdy! Id love to toss my goofy silly mailman tf2 oc in the ring if there were slots left! His names Brodie :> Heres his toyhouse

Meet YOUR 10th Class Merc. The Courier. His name is Brodie 

From New York! Go Yankees!

Around 32-34

6"1

Lets take alook into the past: For a lot of his life he has committed ,,, so much fraud. So much. All of it. Mail fraud tax fraud voter fraud healthcare fraud identity fraud. Even credit card fraud when credit cards came out in 1966.  Frauding it up ever since he was a kid delivering newspapers and snooping in neighbor's mail. 

Eventually his fraudulent lifestyle catches up to him and lands him in prison when he suddenly became the inheritor of a minuscule fraction of Australium. And a certain group of individuals did not take too kindly to some rando getting his hands on the  insanely precious resource.  In order for the Australium to be ‘misplaced’, Brodie had to die. And die he did. Not long after being incarcerated, he was hanged for his many, many crimes. A bit of overkill, really, but it was apparently the only way. Plus a lot of the guards and inmates kept finding themselves in varying degrees of debt so two birds one stone. Miss Pauling herself attends the hanging to make sure Brodie does die and sure enough he is pronounced dead. As dead as it gets. 

Well. Mostly.

As his soul prepares for judgment in hell,  Brodie decides “I am absolutely not ready to be dead yet.” Soo he convinces Satan “hey you guys got the wrong guy. I’m blah blah blah, here’s my ID and credentials n whatnot. Here’s who you’re actually looking for” (a lie obviously) but Satan’s like “Oh shit. Um wow- this, like, never happens. Lemme…fix that real quick.” (This is intentionally left vague and about how much hell tell ya about it with changing details each time)

Back in his body, Brodie sits up, completely nakey, save for the body blanket, and startles Miss Pauling who instinctively has a gun to his face. Quickly thinking, Brodie strikes a deal; “Hey hey! Don't Shoot. Uh, listen.  Technically, I was pronounced dead.  Obviously you can keep whatever I was supposed to inherit, I won't even give it another thought but just lemme go - please?”  Sure enough, Miss P agrees, except now Brodie has to…start over again.  Which isn’t a big *deal*, but it’ll take him a minute to get back on his feet since his last identity is supposed to be cold turkey. 

Though, this gives Miss P an idea.  “Hey, do you want a job?”

So he’s back, babyyy. Brodie is a new man (who legally doesn't exist) and is recruited by Mann Co to be the teams smuggler mailman and a merc when violence is needed!!  Someones gotta deliver the mercs all their niche needs and all that, ya know? Someone who ain't afraid to get their hands dirty or have fingerprints or the same teeth they did before or leave any paper trail!  Someone who isn't afraid to break into the next city over's local zoo and get some baboon uteri and hearts for medic, or do a 24 hr trip to Australia for Saxton hale pain tonic for sniper (so they avoid import fees), wine for spy, copious amounts of Tom Jones merch for scout, crates upon very weighty crates of ammo for Heavy, etc etc. Even just snacks from each mercs country (that Courier def sneaks bites from but dont tell anyone shhhh). Or just the pizza the mercs ordered in town.

Need something delivered? Brodie is your Courier! (He has to as his contract states, lest he break it and is 'super killed'.  No its not explained what that means but Brodie don't intend to find out.)

--

He's a bit of a goofy guy.  Quick witted when it comes to fraud but would ask Alexa what 4 x 12 is. His undying passion is committing petty crimes and scams and changing people's legal last names to something like "Scrotum". He's very *very* nosy and will read the merc's mail before he even gets it to them. He's got gossip to share. He loves snacks and has an awful diet consisting of gas station foods. Caffeinated soda and donuts are go-to's, especially on the road. His fav mode of transportation is on his motorcycle.

WOOF thats a long one lol Thank you sm for ur consideration !

WELCOME ABOARD!

Seats Taken: 22/24 (TWO LEFT)

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

RUN: Against Time | JJK | TEASER

Pairing: boyfriend! Jungkook x girlfriend! Reader

Summary: You and Jungkook had been together for five years now and your relationship was as solid as a rock. You loved Jungkook, Jungkook loved you. He knew you were the one for him since the moment he took you out for dinner on your first date. However, things take a change when you discover your boyfriend's secret that not only puts your relationship on the line but your life as well. Jungkook would have to run against time to save your life. He made a mistake, he wouldn't allow you to pay for it. So now, tangled in a mess of emotions, secrets, love and time Jungkook must find a way to save your life before the clock stops running, will he get there on time?

Warnings: mature content +18, angst, fluff, established relationship, guns, mafia activity, murder, threats, burglary, kidnapping, dealing with the wrong people, ft. OT7, love, character death, reader is described to be shorter than Jungkook, (more specific warnings/tags will be added on the story post)

Word Count: 500 words

A/N: This story will be published exclusively for my Golden Members on Ko-fi. If you'd like to buy my membership you'd be able to read this story as well as exclusive content and insights of my writing process!

The slight red light on your black choker made your heart quiver inside you. You looked at Jungkook as he drove through the streets of Seoul, his stare dead serious as many thoughts ran through his mind.

You still couldn't comprehend how he had managed to fool you for years. The fact that you were sitting next to him in his car didn't mean you weren't angry at him but because your life was now in his hands.

Your hands fisted the soft fabric of your coat in fear, in nervousness, in anger. Your emotions were a muddy concoction that tangled in your mind and didn't allow you to think straight to the point where you began feeling nauseous.

"Don't worry."

He spoke, you had forgotten that your boyfriend was sitting next to you for a moment. It made you come back to reality and away from your dark thoughts, not that your current situation was any better to begin with.

"You'll be fine, (y/n). I promise."

You turned to see him, your eyes roamed over his side profile as you took in the calm and collected image Jungkook radiated from himself, however on the inside he was panicking. He was scared, for you, for your life, for your future together.

All because he messed up.

All because of his greediness.

All because of his high standards.

His hand tightened on the steering wheel as he pressed the pedal and the car accelerated. Now your life was on the line and only he could save you if he won this chase against time.

"What about you, Jungkook? Will you be fine?"

Your question made him sigh deeply. He knew what he had to do to ensure your safety, but was he strong enough to endure it? To sacrifice his sanity for your life? To taint his soul so that yours would be intact?

Yes.

He'd burn the world down for you yet Jungkook was well aware that your relationship with him would never be the same after that night was over. He knew you'd never forgive him for what he did. He knew he might lose you after completing The Tasks. But at least you'd live.

You had given him everything before, the only thing he could do now to fix his mistake was to save your life. And he'd do it. One way or another. He didn't have much of a choice for he knew if you were to die tonight, he'd follow you close by. For he loved you so much it nearly hurt and because he loved you, he couldn't let you die. Not like this. Not because of his mistake. Not because of his foolishness.

The constant red light on your choker reminded him of it. Of what he had sacrificed. Of what he had taken for granted. Of what he had once wanted to fix not knowing that perfect things break in this imperfect world.

"I'll be fine once you are safe."

January/05/2024

~Masterlist

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

[thedreamwraptwriter]

Companions Don't Take Sick Days!

Tenth Doctor x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1046

Warnings: none.

Note: [Y/N] = Your Name

A soft humming awoke me from my deep sleep – the comforting sound of the Tardis was a daily occurrence for me now and I couldn’t help but want to snuggle back into bed. The past few days had been hectic; the Doctor had whisked me all around the universe, bouncing between times, and saving worlds. I loved being by his side but sometimes it felt as though he had endless amounts of energy and I, being human, felt as though I’d missed out on a few (hundred) cups of caffeine with the way I was feeling. 

“Ergh,” I grumbled aloud, pushing myself groggily out of the warm comforter. The room I stayed in was lit by a soft, warm glow, pulsing along the walls. Squinting, I stumbled toward the door, eyes still adjusting to the lack of light around me. With a push, I opened the door of my room and poked my head out into the main control area. The Doctor was sitting by the console, staring intensely at it with a furrowed brow. His eyes darted back and forth, as though reading something at high speed, and I noticed his leg bouncing with energy. Whatever was making him look like that I wasn’t ready to face and quickly began to withdraw back into my ro-

“Y/N!” 

I groaned. Caught.

“Yes Doctor?” I said, voice scratchier than I expected.

He came bounding over to me, trench coat swishing behind him like a majestic bat.

“Dear me, you look terrible,” he said, gently grabbing my face with his hands and looking me over. “You feeling alright?”

I batted his hands away, embarrassed. “We’ve been going nonstop, I think I’m allowed to look a little worse for wear,” I shot back, crossing my arms. “Besides, I’m up now. What’s on the roster for today?”

The Doctor looked at me sternly, his brown eyes drilling into my soul. I hated it when he looked at me like this – it felt as though he could read my mind.

“I can,” he said cheekily, and I felt my entire body heat. “Just kidding – I think I the psychic link bracelets effects are finally wearing off.” 

He raised his arm up and jingled the small silver bracelet on his wrist. I groaned, feeling the matching bracelet heavy on my arm. I’d forgotten about those. Alien tech really was something. They’d proven useful in our last adventure, but I was so tired I’d forgotten to remove mine. I hurriedly pulled mine off just in case it broadcasted anything else out to him.

“However, I do not need one of those to see that you are obviously looking really terrible,” said the Doctor, gently placing a hand on my shoulder. “Why don’t you go back and lay down?”

I shook his hand off my shoulder, ignoring the pulsing in the back of my head. “Now Doctor, I don’t think that will be necessary. I saw you looking – peeved, at the console so why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

The Doctor crossed his arms, looked over his shoulder at the control room, and back at me. 

“No.”

I blinked. “Sorry, what?” 

He sighed. “You are not doing anything today. You are taking a sick day.”

“Companions don’t take sick days!” I exclaimed. “This is ridiculous. I’m not even sick.”

The Doctor rolled his eyes. Whipping out his sonic screwdriver, he rapidly scanned me.

“Elevated temperature, increased mucous secretions, and a high white blood cell count. Pardon me, Y/N, but I think that would indicate that you are, in fact, ill,” he said, smiling triumphantly. “I’m putting you back to bed.”

Before I could argue, the Doctor scooped me up his arms and strode back into my room. My heart rate spiked and the dizziness I was feeling earlier increased tenfold. What a cunning man. 

“That’s better, isn’t it,” the Doctor said cheerfully as he fluffed my pillows and tucked me tightly into bed. “The color is coming back to your cheeks already.”

I turned away from him – the flush in my cheeks was due to something else. 

“I suppose,” I mumbled. “But Doctor, what if you need help?”

The Doctor grinned. “I do have other friends in the Universe, you know. Lots of people owe me a favor or two. Though, I have to admit, you are my favorite.” 

He winked at me. “Now then, what else can I do to help you feel better? Ah yes.”

With a flurry, he ran out of my room. I heard dishes clanging, the Tardis beeping, and some other odd noises echoing about before he came striding back in, balancing a tray of food in one hand and a cold compress in the other. 

“There we are,” he said, carefully placing the tray on my lap and laying the cold compress on my forehead. As much as I wanted to hate his fussing, I found it to be extremely charming (and the cold compress felt quite nice).

I stared at the tray of soup and bread with some confusion. “You were only gone for a few minutes; where did you get this? I know you can’t cook.”

The Doctor chuckled. “I did a quick stop by your hometown – I know what you like! Give me some credit, Y/N.” 

I smiled. The Doctor was incredibly thoughtful and he listened more than I thought he did. “I’m being spoiled today, it seems,” I said.

He grinned. “Right then - open up now, Y/N!” he said, picking up some soup and holding the spoon towards me expectantly.

Immediately, my entire body burned with embarrassment. “W-wait a second I can feed myself!”

I went to grab the spoon, but the Doctor smoothly grabbed my wrist and laid it back down on the sheets. His warm hand enveloped mine and it felt as though time and space stood still. 

“Y/N, please let me take care of you,” he said softly. I looked into his soft brown eyes, my pulse fluttering. We were so close we could have-

“Yes, sorry,” I murmured, tearing my eyes away from his and allowed the Doctor to care for me. He was so gentle, his touch left fire on my skin, but I did my best to ignore it. He was the loneliest man in the universe, and he wanted to keep it that way…but some days, it seemed to me, he’d rather be anything else. 

___

Author’s Note: I’m sick as a dog right now and was watching some Doctor Who to pass the time – decided I might as well write a classic sickfic with some nice fluff. Somehow, though, I managed to make it sad at the very end. Sorry : D

[imagine-shenanigans]

I'm getting back into the swing of things for writing, so here's some random safe for work headcanons because I've been reading an obscene amount of x reader content (Please go check out Aggre(g/v)ation by llama goddess, and Saving Three Ex-cell-ent skeletons by recklessly caffeinated on ao3 because I got brain worms babey.)

Also since its been awhile since I've written something on this blog, remember that these are stream of consciousness teehee <3

(General tws: references (but not explicitly said) to past consumption of humans, ED/Disordered eating and mental health issues, au-typical violence references, etc)

Word Count: 2.2k words ish

.

Horrortale!Sans (Skull) x Reader Misc SFW Headcanons

My favorite thing is when people portray sans in any light as either Just A Little Guy or as Fuckin Huge and Skull is a Big Boy <333 he's easily 7 feet tall, and Built Fucking Different.

Monsters can't like, completely and utterly alter the type of monster they are, so you won't see a Bunny Monster turn into a Moldsmal but its very widely understood that magic reflects the soul reflects the mind reflects the body - so its not really something where monsters experience dysphoria as much? Like if a monster is afab, but realizes they're trans and a guy, it may take awhile to transition - and they may need some help via magic other than their own - but it's really normal in comparison.

Unfortunately, the positive aspects of the whole "mind/soul/body" equation in that you'll eventually look how you want so long as you put the effort into changing every day can also be blocked by trauma and "scarring" to the soul. It's pretty rare in the canon universe, but for Horrortale monsters its damn near exclusive - when you have to do anything you can to survive, adaptation to your environment makes you a hell of a lot scarier in compenstation.

Skull is one such monster where if it weren't for his injury, he'd be a complete 180 from the typical monsters you see. But because of it, it makes it harder to control his magic because he can't think straight. It takes him longer to form sentences, takes him longer to process words sometimes, or even read. He gets light sensitivity really bad, and because his body change wasn't by his choice, but by an unfortunate way of being injured while in a traumatic situation, Skull, no matter how much better he gets, will never fully go back to what he was before.

He's extremely self-conscious about his size and his looks, not to mention his mental capacity. He knows and can think about what he's doing, his mind has never lost that sharpness or intellect. He can strip a machine down to parts and put it back together or put it to other use in minutes, but if you ask him to write it down or explain it he's going to have one hell of a time and he'll probably leave the experience worse than he went into it.

Similarly, if he does want to talk, in one of his rare moods where he's explaining what he's doing out loud to you, he could go on for hours, but suddenly hit a block where the words don't work right.

Be patient with him when this happens. He doesn't like it, and even though it can be frustrating at times, like if you're trying to decide something for dinner or write up a grocery list, he really is doing his best.

Sign language is a good alternative when the words don't want to come out but he's still able to communicate - writing can be one sided, but sometimes thats all he can do too.

When an idea strikes the both of you one day to just draw what he's thinking, Skull could fucking kiss you senseless when you hand him a white board and a dry erase marker. Words may not be making sense in his brain but he can picture what he wants in those moments so this is the perfect compromise between the two for communication.

Skull is his name now, so even though he was once Sans, Skull is what he picked as the reclamation of all that's happened to him. A name that he picked to get him through it day by day but its also a reminder of where he's been and where he'll go. That said... it's also a name he initially picked as a form of self harm to some degree, a mocking reference to his own injury that hindered him.

So while he'll probably never change his name again... he appreciates it when you call him pet names. It's a reminder that you love him enough to do so, while also giving himself a break from the constant reminder. He particularly loves when you call him your "Big old teddy bear" because... god he does not feel like it sometimes.

Get it its a reference to some of the fandom calling him Bear and I love that name for him a lot too

Due to the past, he has some Big Issues With Food, constantly bouncing back and forth between feast and famine.

He has some issues with meat at times - on bad days certain textures and tastes just remind him of the bad times in his life where survival was such a tightrope walk that just imagining eating it makes him sick.

A very "safe food" house, where the two of you stock up on your safe foods and have a cupboard dedicated to it for days you can't stand anything else.

Some days, Skull is content for the two of you to eat at the kitchen table or to watch TV in the living room while you two eat from separate bowls/plates, and he can eat fairly freely, not particularly caring who eats how much or in what order.

Others... other days he anxiously watches to make sure you've had a serving before he gets his, or, more likely, he brings the full pan/a single platter to the table, and the two of you share the same food, taking bites in turn so he can make sure you're getting enough to eat.

King of cooking. It makes him feel better to have full say of what goes into the meals, and honestly the man is an excellent cook. If you insist on helping him cook, it's a 50/50 on whether he gives you this smug little smile and sets you up on the counter top so he can look at you while he cooks, or if he actually lets you help.

He feels out of control if he can't cook, so even on special occasions he's still going to be cooking himself, unless you feel the Urge To Cook or you two order out.

Even then, please just go over with him what you did step by step and tell him what fully went in it - he trusts you implicitly and he's unlikely to outright ask... but it always helps ease his mind when you walk him through what you did just so he can feel less guilty.

Cuddler.

Big fucking cuddler.

Sitting on the couch alone? Not for long. Skull appears? Bam. you're in his lap, his claws smoothing across your skin and through your hair, purring up a storm as he settles his chin on the top of your head and closes his eyes.

If you're watching TV, he's only ever going to pay half attention if he's got you in his lap, half-snoozing in a very light doze as he basks in your presence, and half listening for danger/to the TV depending on the day.

He ADORES when you read to him. He loves it when you talk, and when he gets to listen to storytime while you talk? Best. Day. Ever.

Loves how small you are in comparison to him - something he never thought he'd be comfortable with at first, just based on the idea alone, but in practice he loves being completely wrapped around you and making sure you're safe. You're his personal teddy bear, no matter how many times you call him that yourself.

Jetpacking/Him being the little spoon is... unlikely. He's got some damn broad shoulders and chest, and he's not super happy with the idea of your limbs inside of him no matter if its on purpose or not.

If you want to hold him, he's definitely okay with that (although he does prefer to hold you) as long as you're touching him. You'll just have to let him set his head in your lap, or rest against your chest as he snuggles you chest to... well not chest, so more chest-to-skull and chest-to-legs with how he holds you. He's very beefy and has presence but he's about half the weight most people expect, despite the fact that it should be obvious because he's a skeleton.

He lets out the most broken whimper-whine-purr when you gently kiss the cracks on his skull, close to the gaping wound there. Don't actually touch inside or press too close to the wound itself, because that's genuinely very uncomfortable in the way it would be if he were human and had a missing eye and you touched the inside of the socket to see what it felt like. Just overall a bad experience so Don't Do That No Matter What The Intrusive Thoughts Say, although he'd let you do it in a heartbeat if you asked him

Absolutely whipped. Skull will do anything and everything you say if you just look at him just like that - just like he's your everything, like you love him without bounds and without exception. Puppy eyes also work.

He's a goddamn simp is what he is,

You'll just be minding your own business and you'll look over and catch him staring at you like you've hung the moon and the stars just to provide him with a small amount of your light during the nighttime. He looks at you with such adoration that it hurts.

Sometimes it looks a little freaky like, before you've come to automatically understand his expressions but goddamnit its so hard not to fall in love with him even just by a little more when he loves you so fucking much.

Kissies? Kissies for Skull? Please?

man FIENDS for kissies.

Once he's more comfortable giving affection unprompted you can barely keep his fucking hands off of you. He goes from "I Can And Will Nuzzle You And Pull You Into My Lap But That's It" to "No Kissies? No Snuggles? No Love For Skull? Oh! Jail! Jail For Datemate! Jail For Datemate For One Thousand Years!"

He straight up just hangs off of your clothing while staring at you until you give him a kiss or a hug. He'll come up to you and just bury his face into your neck while purring, or nuzzle your hair, but then moments later pout at you while wrapping his arms around your middle and burying his face into your stomach until you give up whatever youre doing and pay attention to him.

He doesn't do it often But By God Does He Get His Way When He Does.

He's also the type to just like, spend the entire day giving you small pecks on the lips and cheeks and forehead, and then snuggle you at night, and then the next day he'll be way less clingy. You take it in stride and then he just out of the blue dips you in the fucking moonlight and kisses you senseless.

The bastard.

Circling back to pet names, he thinks the nickname Teddybear/Bear is cute and he likes it, but call him My Love/Love/Dear Heart/something else dripping with affection and he's cupping your face in his hands and staring at you adoringly while he rubs your cheek with his claw.

Surprise him with new ones and he'll turn positively blue in the face while smiling like a fool

Surprise him with silly ones and he'll be even more in love while laughing. call him your little chicken nugget and he cant stop smiling and chuckling for a few hours. God. He'll dream of kissing you under the moonlight if you make a pun out of it.

(Brief aside here so I can avoid the text character limit "per block" but I prefer doing bullet point lists for these so anyway continue on)

Pet names always depend on the person, so whatever his one for you depends on you as a person (thats the easy way out for me) but he prefers just one pet name. (Aside from like. Babe being thrown in sometimes yknow)

He'll start with one pet name and see how you react to it - he prefers cute ones like Kitten, Bunny, Lovebird, etc. Something small and cute and adorable - though he changes it up depending on what you respond best to, because while the majority of the reason he calls you a pet name is out of affection, he still calls you pet names to see you get flustered.

On days he's feeling better, he gets more sassy he's gonna include more puns. Or teasing. Example - if he calls you lovebird, or some sort of bird-based nickname? Fuckin. He's calling you pigeon to see how you react.

Bunny? Hare-brain

Kitten? Fuzzball

If its an animal/bird/etc that he calls you in terms of nicknames, he might even refer to you as the scientific name of the animal, or a breed in that category because he thinks its funny to watch you fully stop in your tracks and process what he's just said.

Picks you up at any given opportunity.

Puddle? Oh dear, he should make sure your shoes don't get wet. Better princess carry you.

About to miss an appointment? Thrown over a shoulder.

Just feels like it? Get Scooped Idiot. Okay i have Way More Thoughts but I'm already at 2k because I have no impulse control so byeeeee come request more xreader stuff from me

[quibbs126]

Okay, so I saw a post on Twitter a couple days ago by @leonisloresmith, where basically the idea is that the Ancients used to look different before they got their Soul Jams, and I liked the idea a lot. Cut to 24 hours later and it’s still on my mind, and so I’m like “screw it I’m stealing the idea” and so we got this

So yeah, pre-Soul Jam Ancients. I guess it’s sort of an AU, since as far as I can tell, in actual canon the Ancients have always looked the way they do

It’s only Hollyberry, Dark Cacao and Golden Cheese because they were the only ones I had thought about things for. I had drawn Pure Vanilla, but I realized that I wasn’t working with any real ideas, I was just drawing him for the sake of drawing them all, so I decided to just finish up these three for now and save Vanilla and Lily for another day

The original post didn’t specify changing the ingredients, but I wanted to because to be honest, there’s not a whole lot you can do to change their appearances while keeping their original names in my opinion. But I thought I should keep their core flavors similar, still being vanilla, berries, cacao/chocolate, cheese and flower (though I stuck with lilies to be consistent)

I have names for all of them, though tbh I’m still debating White Lily’s

Juniper Berry -> Hollyberry

Cacao Nib -> Dark Cacao

Cheese Dust -> Golden Cheese

Vanilla Bean -> Pure Vanilla

Wood Lily -> White Lily

It isn’t the names for the other two I’m particularly stuck on, rather it’s their backstories. Speaking of which, let’s get to what I have

So first, Juniper Berry. Juniper here I’m thinking came from a family that runs an inn or tavern, mostly just because of the whole berry juice thing. I imagine that despite the likely rowdy nature of her upbringing, it was a pretty good one. Truth be told that’s all I think I have to say on the matter, a lot less than I thought

I made her juniper berries because I wanted something in a different color, maybe something blue. And also because I randomly saw that juniper berries are apparently used in gin, and again, berry juice. I apologize to the Hollyberry fans, I really just focus on the berry juice aspect of her character when I know she has more going on. I was debating if I should make her skinnier, with the idea that she would have grown physically after getting her Soul Jam, but then I thought that’d be a really bad idea so I kept her as is. She can still be a strong girl and have Cacao be the one with the large physical change. Also I made her eyebrows round because that’s what Royal Berry has

Speaking of Cacao Nib, let’s get to him. So I imagine that Cacao grew up somewhere around the coast of the region and that generally, what family he had wasn’t very well off, and that he had to take on a lot of responsibility at a young age to help out. He’s also very small, even for his age. He also might be mute, or otherwise just very quiet

Okay this is one of my hyperfixation characters so I have more to say on him. I was struggling with his flavor since there’s not a lot you can do while keeping him cacao, but someone suggested to me cacao nibs and I went with that. As for his eyes, well they’re red because of Dark Choco. As for why the eye lines are dark, if you recall a previous post, I said I’m now headcanoning him as having some ancestry from the Licorice Tribe due to having sea salt in his dough (though not like his parents or anything, grandparents at least), and so I wanted to reference that here, as well as with his pin. It’s also why I’m putting him at the coast. Now granted, I recognize it makes more sense to make him related to the Coffee Tribe, with cacao having caffeine in it and his dilated pupil thing, but shush, let me do what I want. I wanted to make him the shortest so that basically, when he gets his Soul Jam, he magically shoots up to being the tallest, or maybe second tallest behind Hollyberry. Also him being short fits in with my headcanon that he’s the youngest Ancient

Next up and our final one for today, we have Cheese Dust. So Cheese was technically an orphan Cookie, but she was taken in and raised by a flock of Cheesebirds. She likes gold and shiny things, and also she does a lot of inventing, making small gadgets in her spare time, and trying to figure out if she can make functional wings for herself

I went with cheese dust for her because I think her original book description talked about cheese dust in it. And it sounds a little better than Cheese Powder to me. I know I made her eyes completely different than canon, but in part it was inspired by the other non-Golden Cheese Kingdom Cookies like Cheesecake and Roguefort, and also her eyes being triangle shaped in old concept art. And I just wanted to. The hair’s inspired by other pieces of concept art with her hair down, though I was struggling with what color to make it, eventually going with this. I wanted to make her the second shortest, being a bit taller than Cacao (though the difference is a lot smaller in the final picture), with the idea that while Cacao grows after getting her Soul Jam, she doesn’t, and so now she’s the shortest of the group

And I think that’s it for now, hopefully I’ll be able to get ideas for Vanilla and Lily done soon, I hope you find this enjoyable

[soullessjack]

good morning everypony here is my overly long caffeinated autistic analysis of the end scene from 14x19 ^_^

so for starters,

Jack’s glowy-archangel-eye color is canonically **gold.** not yellow like the princes of hell or shifters, but **gold.** Very shimmery, very sunshiny and starry and warm. yellow and gold are also the colors/aesthetics associated with jack most often in the fandom because of this so it’s his Thing™️ . however, in the smoky fiery background, they appear to be glowing so intently that they start to become a little…red …like Lucifer’s eyes so poignantly glow. the background is also extremely red (courtesy of the bunker going into lockdown, effectively *caging* them in), of course with some orangish yellows from the fire, but it’s very … “Lucifer in the background of Jack.”

secondly, jack is almost completely obscured by all of the smoke and backdrop fire/lockdown alarm lighting. if you zoom in close enough you can just barely see the white stripes on his cuffs, but otherwise he has absolutely no discernible features besides his glowing-out-of-skull eyes. he’s unrecognizable, vaguely human, but the prominent and most visible trait is the one he inherited from his nonhuman father, Lucifer, whose shadow he was pretty much born in and fought to get out of.

He feels nothing here but “icy hatred” and “fury,” and later on after he leaves he visits his grandparents specifically because “it’s clear—rejected by sam and dean—Jack’s looking for some kind of connection. Some kind of family.”

Lastly, of course, the utter destruction surrounding him; the twisted scrap metal remaining of his coffin, the numerous tiny fires that sprung from its’ demolition, the smoke that fills the entire dungeon so much that it engulfs and obscures Jack’s very being; it’s a very small scale of destruction compared to the “universe devouring” he was hyped up to deliver, but destruction nonetheless—and destruction in its own furious vengeful right, born from a deep sense of grief and pain of rejection and, like Fenrir, lashing out at being treated like a monster by those who you believe loved you; coming full circle into becoming that very monster in the process.

At his core, Jack’s base desires have almost always been to belong and have a family and be loved, especially for who he is, but he is also deeply afraid that ‘who he is’ is something evil and unlovable, something that can only ever destroy and ruin and take away; something that should die for the greater good of the world. he builds up a very specific well-mannered and optimistic hero/protector persona, not just to appear normal, but to be someone he thinks is “good” and useful and therefore worth loving, and the core fear of his “true nature” manifests as an avoidance of anything being ‘wrong’ with him in any capacity.

he lashes out at Mary over this direct fear, because she says something is wrong with him, and he can’t even cope with that with a soul. he tries to reassure Mary that “[he’s] not any different, that [he’s] still [himself]” and becomes defensive when she says otherwise; “the jack she knows would never have done that,” which, in his state of mind and rooted insecurity, would very easily translate into “you are not the person I know,” and likely goes even further to “you are not the person I know and love.” Mary insists on helping him, but Jack “shuts down; knows there’s nothing anyone can do.” He tells her that she can’t [help him] and just wants to be left alone as he begins spiraling, and we of course know the rest.

But afterwards, throughout Jack’s psychosis, Hallucifer basically tells him that he’s useless to the winchesters now, and useless = unlovable = not worth saving to them. He calls Jack their “pet monster,” “muscle to take out their enemies,” and just “pet,” diminishing Jack’s place in the family as their surrogate son (and likewise, them as his surrogate fathers), and reinforcing that he’s still a monster to them, and one that’s only valued or “loved” for his power. vocalizing his subconscious fear. He also taunts Jack’s obsessive motivation to resurrect Mary and, presumably earn forgiveness/regain his place in the family, as pathetic; not just a pointless effort to fix the unfixable, but something he shouldn’t even care about or want anymore, because he doesn’t really belong there anyways. The grief he feels for Mary is “just a reflex” from having a soul, not a genuine emotion or motivation that Jack still has; it’s not really about her, it’s about him being loved again. all of which Jack responds to with increasingly agitated “Shut ups.” And remember, that these are literally Jack’s own thoughts; his intrusive thoughts and long-held insecurities.

much like when Michael said he’d become more powerful and less human as he got older, and Jack “didn’t want to admit it was possible,” — he’s afraid to admit the possibility that he’s doing this selfishly; that he’ll never be loved again, that he was never really loved to begin with; that this is it. This is his true nature, the evil and destructive and pathetic unlovable pet monster that’s only good for being shown an enemy and told “sic-’em, boy.” he’s afraid that he might be doing this selfishly and is adamant that it’s because he really loves Mary. he really wants her back, too. he also goes and does those biblical atrocity murders with the same motivation, so much so that it actually irritates Duma to see he still cares lmao.

it’s a horrible culmination of grief and fear from the same root place, a horrible desire to be loved. to desire is to suffer and such. and that specific obsessive grief-stricken desire to be loved is intimately what twists jack into that unrecognizable rage-filled shadow.

jack’s desire to be loved and his fear of becoming/always being an unlovable monster is ultimately what drove him to becoming that monster.

@dakrapatops @dragonsareattackinghogwarts @aurorasleepsin @shallowseeker @jvnkless @ / anyone else I forgot lol

[strxwberrybtch]

A Hellish Love Story // Pt. 1

Pairing(s): Vox x F!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Alcohol and Drugs

A/N: Hello my lovies! This is my first fic here on tumblr- it's a little short butttt I'm hoping to make this a multi-part series. This will definitely be a NSFW series with eventual smut ;) I would love to hear your input on this first part! Without further ado, enjoy :)

---

In life, the art of literature enthralled you. It captivated you in more ways than one. The way that words could transport you to another place completely fascinated you. At first, you treated it as a hobby or one could argue a distraction. One to drown out the harsh words that your parents constantly threw back and forth at each other.

It was no surprise that you found yourself constantly with a pen and paper in hand, jotting down your never ending ideas. You started taking it more seriously once you started high school. Normal english classes didn't excite you as much as the creative writing course did. Once you were done with school, you began to devote your young adulthood to writing. You quickly found a sufficient job and instantly got to work. All you wanted was to do was share your creative visions with the world. You wanted people to feel the passion and emotion that you felt while writing it.

It was a somewhat peaceful day at the shitty office you worked at. You had pulled an all nighter the night before working on a screenplay. Not just any screenplay though. This had to of been your best work yet. It was your ticket out of the slums and to the big leagues. This was your chance.

You sat in your tiny cubicle typing your heart away. Solely relying on caffeine and adderall- which you may or may not have abused from time to time. But this was your livelihood, your purpose in life if you will. The sun had slowly began to set at the office. Many of your fellow peers were chit-chatting about their plans for the weekend. You easily tuned them out as you focused on the writing in front of you. Feeling a wave of tiredness, you popped another pill into your mouth- washing it down with your coffee. The adrenaline and thought of being so close to being finished had you eager and motivated. You almost didn’t acknowledge the loud screech of the building’s fire alarm.

Apparently a fire had broken out and quickly began to ensue absolute chaos within the building. Of course with the building being in a not so fortunate area- the sprinklers had stopped working years ago. While your coworkers scrambled to escape the ever growing deadly smoke and flames, you stayed behind at your desk. You anxiously gnawed at your nails, waiting for your files to download onto a usb drive. You cursed at yourself for getting carried away with writing and not saving throughout the day as you usually did. Your career's future was on that computer. You’d rather die than lose it all.

Unfortunately that’s where your human life had come to a fiery end, engulfed in the flames along with your life’s work. So you assume that’s why you ended up with fiery, crimson eyes and the ability to manipulate fire. Ironic.. in a shitty sorta way. Scratch that… a very shitty way.

After seeing ‘Writers Wanted’ at the end of a VoxTek commercial, your heart fluttered at the thought of pursuing your passion in the afterlife. Hell, you did die for it so you might as well give your death meaning. You quickly memorized the address and beelined it to the VVV tower.

Given your obvious passion for the job, you were immediately hired by a higher up employee, of course with the quick text of approval from Vox. After getting a brief job description, you were over the moon excited. Writing scripts for TV, like are you kidding?? You had spent your entire mortal life trying to get to that point in your career. Who woulda thought all it took was well… your life.

You didn’t have think twice before signing over your soul to the demon overlord. Why would you? Selling your soul in exchange for your dream job was an easy decision. Especially since it came with great pay and an apartment to live in.

As for Vox though, you really never saw him too much. When you did he always gave a charming smile your way which you kindly reciprocated. He was undeniably attractive, even with a TV for a head.

Whilst working at the V tower you were able to meet the one and only adult star, Angel Dust. He quickly introduced you to Cherri Bomb, and boom (no pun intended) your trio of friendship was born.

It’s been a few years since then and that’s how you ended up here, sitting at your desk aimlessly typing away listening to a very whiny spider demon.

“Come onnnn Y/N!! We haven’t gone out in forever and we both have the night off for once” Angel exasperated, throwing his arms up into the air, desperately trying to convince you to go out with himself and Cherri.

You sighed quietly to yourself knowing this wasn’t going to end soon. He had been going on and on about how you work too much and haven’t been able to have fun for the past 20 minutes now. You rubbed your temples and took off your blue light glasses. Quickly closing your laptop and spinning around in your chair, you were met with Angel laying upside down on your bed, with his head hanging off the side.

“Okay! Fine! You win! And you shouldn’t lay like that,” You laughed while leaning down to lightly flick his forehead.

Angel swatted your hand away and sat up. Though you could tell he did it too fast after he placed a hand to his head, feeling dizzy from all the blood rushing back to the rest of his body. All you could do was shake your head and smile at the goof.

“HAHA YES!! I’ll text Cherri and let her know. Now get your ass up outta that chair and get ready! Show them what all of hell’s been missin lately,” He winked and quickly picked up his phone to message the missing piece to our trio.

You rolled your eyes briefly and went into your bathroom to make yourself look presentable.

“Can you find me something to wear pretty pleaseee!” You shouted from the bathroom.

“Oh you know I gotcha toots,” By hearing the muffled tone of his voice you could just tell he was smirking. You had a feeling you’d regret asking for his help but quickly shook the thought away. Angel was right. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you went out with your two troublemaker friends. It had to of been at least a few months. You needed this.

You deserved this.

With one last glance at your bare, tired face you got to work. Seeing as it had been forever, you decided to go all out. It took only about an hour or so for you to be satisfied with your hair and makeup. Once finished you came out of your bathroom to see Angel was no longer on your bed. However replacing him was the outfit he had picked out for you.

A simple black crop top, the shortest denim skirt you owned, a silver chain belt that connected with hearts, and to top it all off a pair of black chunky heeled boots. He knew you all too well.

After putting on the outfit you stared at yourself in the mirror. You almost didn’t recognize the reflection in front of you. It reminded you of when you were in high school. Sure you were addicted to writing but your living friends were a little bit of a bad influence, much like the ones you have now. They had convinced you to get a fake id so that you could go clubbing with them. And to be honest, you were glad they did. Who would’ve wanted to miss out on a early 2000’s club scene? You had a lot of fun during that time. Yet, that’s the very place you discovered the drug that got you through pretty much the rest of your living life.

A smile began to spread across your face as you checked yourself out. The outfit accentuated every part of your body perfectly. Out of all the time you’ve spent in hell, this was undoubtedly the best you had ever looked. With one last once over in the mirror, you turned off your bedroom lights and went to find Angel.

It didn’t take long to find him sprawled out on your couch with his phone in hand. A VoxTech sitcom played quietly on your tv in the background.

“You ready to go?” He asked without looking up once he heard you enter the living room.

“What do you think?” You questioned him with a coy smile.

He quickly glanced up at you and dropped his phone onto his lap. In an instant he was standing in front of you.

“Holy shit toots! I knew you were good looking but this makes me question my own sexuality,” He said in a teasingly, seductive voice as he twirled you around.

“Shut up loser,” You laughed, shoving his shoulder.

“I’m just speaking the truth! But come on Cherri is already there,”

You turned off everything and locked your apartment. You held onto the door knob for a moment before taking a deep breath and letting go to trail after Angel.

---

It wasn’t long before you and Angel arrived at Club 666, one of the Pride Ring’s most popular clubs owned by your boss’s situationship, Valentino. You never really came across the moth man while you were at work, only hearing stories from Angel Dust. Some of the stories were good but the majority… not so much. It's pretty safe to say, you don't want to cross him while he's in one of his moods.

After climbing out of the cab, your hands found the hem of your skirt almost instantly. You hastily pulled down the short material that had ridden up your thighs on the way there, almost flashing the black lace panties you decided to wear. Once situated outside of the club, hand in hand, you and Angel made your way into the booming club. After fighting your way through the seemingly never ending crowd, you spot Cherri at the bar downing a shot with a group of random sinners, not very surprising.

She perks up at the sight of you and Angel, waving her hand in the air with a toothy grin.

“There you fuckers are! I thought you up and ditched me for a second there,” She said quickly pulling Angel into a tight hug. Once she got to you she paused for a moment with both her hands on your shoulders.

“Holy shit Y/N, you look hot!!” She exclaimed examining every part of you.

“Awe thanks Cherri,” You smiled and brought her into a warm hug.

“Hey! How come when I complimented you earlier I got shoved?!” Angel asked with his arms crossed.

“Because I’m used to your flirty compliments,” You laughed as his pouty expression slowly turned into a sly smile.

He brushed his hair back and huffed out, “Point taken. Alright enough bullshit. Let’s get this party started bitches!”.

---

You had lost track of how many shots you and your friends had taken. You knew it had to of been a lot though with how much the club was spinning. It wasn’t spinning in a bad way though. Sure you’d feel like shit in the morning but at this point you didn’t care. The lights of the dance floor strobed bright green as it flashed through the fog. You felt euphoric and giddy as you danced alongside Cherri.

Angel had ditched you both pretty early on once he noticed Val. He took place under one of Valentino’s lengthy arms. Even in your drunken state, you glanced over a few times to make sure he was okay. And from what you observed he was laughing with a fellow star, taking in the moth’s red smoke. Cherri broke you out of your worry as she tapped on your shoulder.

“I’m gonna go grab another round yeah? Want one?” She slurred with a lazy smile, shouting over the intense music.

You thought for a brief moment before slightly slurring back, "Sure why not!"

You watched as her form slowly disappeared through the sea of dancing, sweaty bodies. Feeling the music, you felt yourself truly let loose. This was the most fun you had in a very long time. A dazed smile found its way across your lips as you swayed your body to the beat of the music. You danced without a care in the world. As if nobody was watching.

However, someone was watching.

From a secluded area of the club, a certain TV demon sat with a drink in one of his clawed hands...

Watching your every move.

///

AHHHH I really hope you guys enjoyed this first part. I wrote it in one sitting... oops XD. Let me know what you think!!

[scientia-rex]

Reasons my life is better this year than last year:

-Umbrella reason: new job

-Work next to doc who consistently laughs at my jokes

-My boss doesn't get passive-aggressive and also doesn't mind profanity

-My boss, despite being straight, fully supports me providing gender care and likes to send me CME opportunities for conferences I can't go to because I can't take time off without a lot of notice but it's still a nice thought that he saw "LGBTQIA+ healthcare" and went "oh I know a doc who does that! she should go!"

-On my other side is an MA I get along with fabulously bc despite having different native languages we both appreciate the importance of snacks, naps, caffeine, and being a little bit snarky

-She always brings me a donut if somebody leaves a box in the break room and she knows I might not see them until they're gone

-My MA sits behind me and is possibly my long-lost twin? Except that she's a foot taller than me, GOD, I wish I was tall, but we're on the same wavelength at all times and we have very similar interests and senses of humor and I love it and I hope she works here until we both retire

-The other people who sit in our room with us vary between a delightful nerd who I only haven't befriended harder bc she has kids and is always making a point of going home to them on time, an older doc who works per diem for us now and taught me how to do greater occipital nerve blocks on a whim and is actually a decent person despite being an old white privileged man, and our dermatology provider who once told a patient I was, and I quote, "cool as fuck," which is funny because I think SHE'S cool as fuck

-Our nurses are the best. Just the literal best. They go all out, on a daily basis, to not only make sure I do the minimal amount of bullshit busy work, but also to make sure patients are getting high-quality care and that they have positive interactions with our clinic, and they never kick a request back to me with "we can't do that," they will always at least ask around to see if someone else knows. I love them. I love them so much I literally sometimes cry about it.

-Our chief referral coordinator is so much fucking fun AND so good at her job. I ask her for things and they just... happen??? She's relentlessly competent and also loves animals and also when I mentioned I need more plants gave me seeds from her double-ruffled hot pink poppies, which I WILL be planting next year.

-Seriously, I love everybody at my new work. It's been 10 months and I feel like a rescue animal, finally starting to creep out of my shell and have a personality, after working at my prior clinic for 4 years (2 in residency) of absolute chronically understaffed passive aggressive toxic workplace hell. Like, I love the providers at my former clinic, I love the support staff, I loved my patients and I loved what I got to do, but there simply weren't enough people and everyone was always being told to do more and more and more with no additional time or resources or compensation, and that was a big part of why I quit--I could see, very transparently, that the administrators didn't give a hot shit about how hard I was working and how I was busting my ass, any time they saw a chance to shaft me out of any benefit, no matter how small, that might save them money.

Life is better this year. I think it's going to be even better next year. I had no idea working in medicine could be this much better. Working in medicine is going to be draining, no matter what you do--but a good, solid, competent administration makes the difference between draining and soul-crushing.

[sideblogofasideblogforshoko]

Prompt: Sleep

Title: To Sleep, Perchance To Dream

Summary: Shoko doesn't sleep for a reason

Word Count:

Rating: T

Pair: Soft Gojo/Shoko (SaShoSu if you squint), mostly comfort with angsty tones because I can't write just fluffy to save my soul.

Shoko doesn't sleep.

Not really. She can nap. She can catch snatches of rest between breaks, between lunches and against stone walls during shady afternoons. It is mostly just her shutting her eyes, breathing slowly and pretending, but it helps. Keeps the lie up, allows her to answer anyone who asks that yes, she rested.

She did. Promise. Pinky swear.

The bruised colored circles under her eyes seem to scream otherwise, to the point she stopped trying to muffle them with make-up years ago, but hey a girl has to try right?

"You need to sleep at some point, Ieiri." Yaga gruffly recommends at the end of their meeting. She has spent that last forty-eight hours awake (not even a record by the way, hardly even a blip) elbow deep in curse guts. Then another five, writing up the a report about her findings for this stupid meeting. "People are going to assume I am running you ragged."

Shoko thinks about the six cursed bodies waiting down in the morgue and the three mangled corpses in the freezer.

"Aren't you?"

Yaga who has had years to learn how to deal with Shoko's casual, pointed words simply waves her away.

"Get some rest."

"Will do."

And she does.

Head bowed, cradled in her arms at her desk while waiting for the blood samples to finish. Solid thirty minutes at least.

Good job her, right?

+

"You look like shit."

"Fuck you too." Shoko spits back at Nanami who ignores her and pours her another drink. They are once again holed up in his apartment. It's nice, but kinda boring. Clean, but empty. He spends about as much time here as she spends at her own, which is next to never. Exception being when he manages to wrestle her out of the morgue and he doesn't have a case the next day. Then they go to his, order too much food and drink until Shoko has to help heal their livers in the morning.

Its a self inflicting exercise in flagellation but it is better than the alternative. Probably.

"You aren't sleeping again?" He notes, just as she is taking a sip because he is actually a bigger asshole than even herself. Most people get blinded by the pressed suits and air of dignified annoyance but yeah, deep down, Nanami Kento is still that emo-looking asshole who listens to My Chemical Romance and enjoys being a troll.

Shoko feels her throat tighten, a lie on the tip of her tongue that drowns in the booze and hacks out as a cough instead.

"Are you?"

Nanami shrugs, "A bit. More than you."

"You really talk to your elders like that?"

"Sorry, more than you, Senpai. Better?"

"No."

"Ah, well. I tried." He deadpans, reaching for another chip and chewing it as he watches her go through her head for an insult but fails and gives up by flopping backwards. Her body stretched out on the floor, hair fanned out like dark wave.

"I rest." She says, "I cat nap. Worst case, I do a bit foosh foosh and I'm good as new."

"That's not sleep."

"Your mom is not sleep." She mumbles out.

"He isn't in Japan, I take it?"

Nanami Kento has to lean to the side in order to miss getting hit by the sudden launch of a wadded up paper receipt.

Shoko does not reply nor does she get up to see if she has hit her target.

"If he finds out about all this, he won't be happy."

Shoko gives a sullen huff, indicating how much she cares about the opinion of the gangly white haired man with blue furby eyes who isn't currently in the country.

Nanami sighs, takes a sip of his own drink and waits for Shoko to rise back up from her drunken depths. Eventually goading her into playing super mario cart until the sun rises.

It isn't sleep, and both will suffer in the days after, but it's good in other ways. A different sort of recharge she can't get with caffeinated drinks and naps in her car.

+

There is a loud knock at her office door that brings Shoko back into reality. Hard. She doesn't remember when she left it, but she does know she jerks back into her body with enough force to jostle her third cup of coffee all down her shirt.

"Fuck." She hisses, grateful it was cold but also when did it get cold? Didn't she just make a new pot?

"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you." Megumi politely apologizes. He is one of the few students who actually can remember to say and mean it. She has no idea where he learned it considering every other student is half feral and his teacher is basically five raccoons in trench coat with an addiction to sugar.

"I was zoned out," She admits, putting the cup down and searching for something to clean up with. It takes some digging but eventually she finds some napkins in her purse. "What do you need?"

Megumi, for all his blank face, seems deeply uncomfortable and that is all it takes for Shoko to figure out what is happening.

"Ugh. Dont tell me he roped you in on this too."

"He won't stop texting."

"Megumi, you are suppose to be stronger than this." Shoko sighs, deeply disappointed.

"He sent a singing telegram to me yesterday and threatened to keep doing so until I sent proof." The teen explained, frustrated and more than a little embarrassed. She can tell by the way he gets louder than normal and the way the tips of his ears flush red. "That idiot has way too much time and access to money, Shoko. So let's just get this over with before he gets any other ideas."

Megumi hands her a folded up newspaper.

Shoko unravels it. "What is this for?"

"Hold it up next to you. He said he wants proof of life."

She does as he asks, but also flips him the middle finger. Making sure to frown hard as he takes the picture and sends it off.

"This was overkill."

"I agree." He replies and takes back the newspaper, then there is a series of urgent beeps from his phone. He reads the texts aloud. "He said you look like crap. Get some sleep or else. Something something about posting that picture from first year?"

"Tell that idiot I burned all evidence of that."

Megumi does and the answer is immediate.

"He says Myspace is forever." Megumi blinks, "What is myspace?"

"An ancient wasteland." Shoko tells him blithely and snatches the phone. Sending a series of complicated, odd and distinctly menacing emojis (it involves a lot of skulls, eggplants and fire) before handing it back. "There. That should keep him from using you to bother me. At least for now."

"Thanks."

The kid pockets his phone and nods, but before he leaves, he gives her one more deep concerning look.

"He should be back soon."

"Eh. Maybe. Might also get sidetracked by a dessert food truck too."

"Maybe." Megumi says, albeit doubtfully. Shoko chooses to ignore it and waves him off.

She still has work to do after all.

+

The thing about Shoko not sleeping is that it is on purpose as just as much as it isnt.

Sure, her work hours are probably enough to be a crime against OSHA or the Geneva Convention, and yes she often works alone because there is literally no one else with her gift but what else is she going to do? Go home? Ignore her dying comrades, the piling corpses and curses?

It is a shit job, but that is just how it goes. Could be worse. Probably. Shoko dances along the line of caring too much and not at all too often, to be a good voice of reason about these things.

That is the other side of it.

The part where she has seen too much. Touched too often, the worse bits of what remains. It is all on her to see what it all boils down to in the end and as much as she would like to pretend otherwise, it leaves a stain on her mind.

On her dreams.

It was easier when she could remember less; when she could numb with cigarettes, drink and love. Pressed between the lanky body of one, the compact slender of another. It was easier when the faces she preformed on did not have names in her heart.

It was easier when she was young, dumb and believed the future could be better if they just tried.

Now she is a little smarter, older and well aware of the utter shit show they are all forced to dance in. She knows her part, her limited turns and while she might still hate it all the way down to her bones she also knows the push to break it all down won't come without consequences.

She has already spent half a life burying his after all

So no. She never sleeps well on her own because every time she does, her mind fills with old memories that haunt her to tears. Or reminds her of the friend's she lost or worse, the ones she has yet to lose and really, if she has to pick. She would never sleep again if she could. Just to save herself the pain.

She is not a warrior, she does not suffer well when it comes down to it. She has a hungry heart and it starves like a wild thing, out of wanting. It wants love and it wants safety and it wants to go back in time and hold everything tight enough to bruise.

Shoko does not sleep for fear of the dreams.

-except when Satoru makes her.

"You haven't been sleeping again." He remarks, echoing Nanami but his tone all snark. It is past midnight and for once she is home. Driven there by a storm that closed down the school. She had heard the front door open, but hadn't bothered to move from the couch where she is nestled, reading some filthy smut novel that Mei Mei sent.

There was only one man with a key.

"Oh no. Who let the secret out?" Shoko mocks back with too slow of a response. She is just getting to the good part where the overly handsome, very rich CEO fucks his newly hired help over a leather couch. "Was it Ijichi? Sucha gossip."

Satoru snorts, kicks off his shows and practically bounces from one end of the room to the other, diving towards the couch and land haphazardly in her lap. Shoko, already mentally prepared for this, merely jostles unhappily before going back to her book. Resting the edge of it atop of Satoru's head. He had rested it first on her chest so this was fair.

"As if. That man will take your secrets to the grave. His crush is out of control. I saw him buying you a novelty travel mug today. Says best boss in the world."

"Aw, don't tease him. It's just a crush."

"Gonna tease him harder." Satoru promises, snuggling in. Stupid long limbs snaking in and around her body until Shoko cannot sigh without Satoru moving too. She gives up and closes the book. Letting it fall from her fingers to the floor so she is free to let them pet his white strands back. He closes his eyes and hums.

"Take a nap with me."

"Not tired." She lies.

"Liar."

Shoko cant help but smile at him.

"Yeah. Maybe. Can you blame me?"

Satoru, whose scars mirror her own simply holds her tighter.

"I will keep your nightmares at bay if you do the same for mine." He offers, and it is nothing more than a child's offer to hold hands in the dark, neither really has the power to fight off dreams but it relaxes Shoko more than anything else in the world. She gathers a throw blanket over them and places a kiss on his forehead.

"Deal."

Shoko falls asleep with a soft smile.

[kitthepurplepotato]

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Bakugou Katsuki’s daily shenanigans!

Chapter one: Bakugo is having a good day. At least until his precious secretary resigns and finds himself in the not-so-caring hands of a “menace” instead. ~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~Genre: Mostly Comedy and Slice of Life. BAKUGO X READER. Might contain enemies-to-lovers, fluff and a hint of angst here and there. POV might be alternating between Bakugo, Reader, Kirishima/friends and Storytelling as this will be a series of one shots connecting to each other.

Other ships in the story: Kaminari x Jirou, Deku x Todoroki

Warnings: Swear words, bullying (in a comedic way) and all the typical Bakugo bullsh*t. New warnings on every chapter.

About the Reader: I don’t want to spoil too much as the reader comes to light in the second chapter but she is going to be Bakugo’s new secretary. She is a fierce woman with no filter, who worked as a hero in another country before coming to Japan. More info in the second chapter.

While the story is a Bakugo x Reader story, the story focuses on Bakugo and his shenanigans, so there might be chapters where the reader isn’t around.

About the writer: English is my second language, please be nice if I make a mistake. I probably will.

Feel free to request a topic! Anything can happen in this AU. (I don’t do smut tho)

There will be a taglist on this one as well, so don’t be shy to ask to be added to it!

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Teaser:

Wait a fucking minute.

This isn’t a nightmare.

Bakugo must have died and this is his personal Hell. He was pretty sure he saved enough people in his short life of 25 years to make up for his terrible behavior towards people, but seems like it wasn’t enough to get him on a luxury yacht in Heaven.

Mr. Katsuki’s soul has left his body. He didn’t know how to react to this shenanigan.

He still hoped this is a prank; he quickly checked his phone to see the date in case it’s April’s fools today.

But it’s bloody March.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Chapter 1: Bakugo Katsuki and the case of the leaving secretary.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Bakugo Katsuki wakes up to the most ordinary day ever.

The sun is shining through the burnt holes of his ruined curtains, the birds are annoyingly chirpin’ and singin’ by the window, because Katsuki swears all the birds hate him so much they even decide to fly up to the 10th floor on his perfectly clean balcony just to annoy the shit out of him every morning.

From outside perspective, you would think Katsuki is a “little” grumpy today.

But this is really just an ordinary day for him.

Katsuki is never grumpy. It’s just that everyone else around him is an asshole.

What happened to the curtains, you ask?

Well, let’s go back in time a bit.

~ 2 days ago ~

This day was indeed an ordinary day, or may I dare to say, a good day for Mister Katsuki.

It was his last day before his one day off as the Number Two hero.

Not even the annoying sounds of the birds shitting all over his balcony could ruin his mood. Not even the constant buzzing of his phone could make him angry. It did not matter. He has a motherfucking day off tomorrow.

As mister Katsuki opened the door to his own agency which is literally next door to his own home, he made sure to be nice and say hi to the usually buzzing Kirishima, and he made sure not to comment on the lack of clothing he is wearing again. Not this time.

It didn’t take him more than 5 seconds to realize that Kirishima is not buzzing today. Instead, Kirishima looks rather terrified.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Shitty Hair, did you break the coffee machine or what?” He asked. Well, what else can make Kirishima so terrified if not the lack of caffeine in his system? He basically lives on coffee and steak. There isn’t much to this guy, at least in his humble opinion.

“Hanako-chan is waiting for you in the office. She has something to tell you.” Blurted out the redhead, slowly but steadily leaving the office building. He wasn’t subtle about his leave. He fucking fled the scene like a criminal.

If Kirishima’s coward retreating wasn’t enough to make him tremble from fear, the fact that the usually busy building was somehow completely abandoned definitely made his skin crawl.

He’s the fucking boss, Goddammit, he knows this is not normal.

Is Hanako-chan secretly a spy and is this how he dies? By the hands of his beloved secretary who is like a second mom to him even though there is only a few years between them?

Oh, his dear Hanako-chan. Mister Katsuki might be an absolute ass to the whole world but he would die for his adorable secretary. Hanako-chan always knows how to make him calm down after a stressful morning. She brings his favorite tea, gives him a pat on the back and this man is as good as new, ready for the challenges of the day. He thinks she has a calming quirk but Hanako-chan insists she is just “like that”.

You don’t just tame a wild animal with so many issues just by being nice though.

Mister Katsuki thinks Hanako is full of shit.

With that said, Bakugo made his way to his office with sweaty hands. He is ready for everything.

“Katsuki, my darling!” Said the woman, with the usual friendly smile on her face.

Hanako had a really weird phase in the last few months. Her usual preppy clothing was exchanged for baggy sweaters and leggings, she came in to work looking like she just threw up in the outside bin before coming to work, and Katsuki swears she gained some weight as well, which is no problem, obviously, but Hanako wasn’t the type to let herself go this much in such a short time.

The blonde was really confused by the sudden change, especially knowing that Hanako-chan was freshly married to her boyfriend of 10 years.

Was she unhappy? Did he treat her different now that they are married? Is something bothering her? Is it him?

It’s definitely not him. He is an angel. It must be Kirishima. It’s always Kirishima.

“I know I made you worry a lot in these past few months, and I am sorry. We decided to keep this a secret from you until last minute, so you can sleep well. You are really important to me and I’m sorry for keeping secrets from you.”

Katsuki must still be in bed, having a nightmare, he thought. There is no way his one and only Hanako-chan just admitted to such a “crime” as keeping secrets from him. And who is “we”? Who is the other culprit?

Whoever that person is, they are going to die a horrible death by the end of today.

No one fucks with Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.

“With that said, I need to tell you something” She said while looking at her tummy with tearful eyes.

Does she have a stomachache? Is this what this is about? She wants to go home today and rest?

I mean, he might have a short fuse as a boss (and as a person), but making such a drama over a sick leave is a little bit much.

“I am pregnant. And this my last day here with you. I am going on a family leave from tomorrow, Kirishima-kun already has a new secretary ready for you, she’ll be arriving any minute.”

Wait a fucking minute.

This isn’t a nightmare.

Bakugo must have DIED and this is his personal Hell. He was pretty sure he saved enough people in his short life of 25 years to make up for his terrible behavior towards people, but seems like it wasn’t enough to get him on a luxury yacht in Heaven.

Mr. Katsuki’s soul has left his body. He didn’t know how to react to this shenanigan.

He still hoped this is a prank; he quickly checked his phone to see the date in case it’s April’s fools today.

But it’s bloody March.

Maybe If he lays down on the sofa for a nap he’ll wake up in his own bedroom. Yes, this sounds like a plan.

So Katsuki did what he thought is the best in a situation like this; he laid down.

He stayed silent. He wasn’t sure what to say anyway. Should he congratulate her? Or should he just cry and beg her to stay?

Honestly, he really wanted to cry right now and that’s not something he says lightly. Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight never cries. Except when his favorite secretary leaves him for a little snotty brat, apparently.

As the blonde slowly realized he is indeed awake and he is making an absolute fool of himself on this lovely Monday morning, he heard someone snickering around his office door.

As Mister Katsuki turned around to look at the creature who dared to laugh at his misery, his eyes lock with a shaken up Kirishima.

Next to the trembling redhead was… a menace.

“Did this woman just broke the High and Mighty Dynamight?” The menace snickered like the whole office wasn’t looking at her with eyes that screamed “STOP RIGHT NOW IF YOU WANT TO LIVE”.

She was aware of the situation.

Oh, she was absolutely aware.

“I thought I applied for a secretary position? There might be a misunderstanding here, I’m a terrible babysitter.”

Oh boy. Oh boy.

Saying things like that to an already grumpy Dynamight is one thing, but grinning at him while looking into his eyes with zero remorse?

The End Of The World has arrived.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Now let’s go back to our grumpy Katsuki and his burnt curtains.

Needless to say, the poor curtains did nothing to anger the blonde, yet ended up dead on the spot after his “sudden” early finish on that lovely Monday morning.

But those weren’t the only things Katsuki burnt that day; the door knobs, the sofa, the toast he tried to eat after coming home, not even Kirishima’s unbreakable left ear could hold up with Mister Katsuki’s anger.

As Dynamight slowly rises from his bed that suspiciously smells like burnt wood and cotton, he puts on the first thing he can find in the pile of laundry he was supposed to do yesterday and leaves his flat without even looking in the mirror.

Because everyone can fuck themselves today, and tomorrow and for the rest of the future.

Mister Bakugo Katsuki is done with everyone’s shenanigans.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

NEXT: Chapter 2: Meet the Menace.

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Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoyed this nonsense, haha! The whole style might not make sense yet but with more chapters coming the more you’ll see what I’m trying to do here :D

As I said in the beginning, feel free to tell me your thoughts and requests!

If you have any questions about the series, send me an ask or a comment!

The taglist is open to anyone, so don’t be shy! Have a lovely day! 💜

[rosalind-hawkins]

Euroshipping Musings

Footnotes are below the cut because my parentheses were starting to look ridiculous.

I have this headcanon/recurring trope in my fics(1) of Ryou being Mokuba's not-babysitter. I've figured out where this came from. When Mokuba gets his soul back in Pegasus' castle, Ryou is the one holding him when he wakes up, and I guess I always imagined our Baby Kaiba imprints on Ryou like a duckling. Kaiba doesn't want his brother spending so much time alone only with KC employees or household staff, but Mokuba's a little old for a babysitter(2). Kids his own age aren't too much of an option for one reason or other(3) and most of the dweeb patrol are insufferable to Kaiba, but Ryou is one that's never once tried to lecture him or expressly criticized him, so Kaiba picks him as a companion/caretaker for Mokuba. Ryou thinks of it as being a nanny, but would never use that word around either Kaiba.

Ryou starts spending a lot of time at the Kaiba Mansion, and since he reports directly to Kaiba, he gets a peek at his more personal side, and all of his bad habits: insomnia, caffeine addiction, workaholism. He starts out by doing little things for him, like sneakily switching out his coffee for decaf in the evenings. The more comfortable he gets with Kaiba (who acts unexpectedly chill when he's not in a combative situation and feeling threatened), and this comfort results in him actually scolding Kaiba for his bad habits, trying to correct them and save him from himself. In his mind, he's taking care of both Kaibas now.

Seto starts to really take notice of Ryou a little while after this starts, and he tries asking him why Ryou is doing these thigs for him. It's not part of his job. He gets to the heart of the issue and asks why Ryou is acting like he cares, and Ryou says it's because he does care. Seto just asks why(4) and Ryou struggles to explain. Confessions for these two are never easy or smooth, it takes a little awkwardness and discomfort to be completely honest about feelings and say what they're really trying to say. Kaiba doesn't necessarily reciprocate right away, not externally, but they do get together because Ryou is a calming, caring presence in a home that didn't see a lot of that for a long time, and because Seto realizes how nice it can be to let yourself be cared for, and that he'd miss Ryou if he ever left.

It's not a fiery passionate love (though they do grow into the passionate stuff) but it starts out as something very domestic, very simple. It's two hurt people recognizing each other and approaching with caution and care, and finding a way to fit into each other's lives. Learning how to lean on each other, just a little bit at a time, until one day they wake up and realize they can't imagine a life without the other person there. It's Seto realizing how cold his life would be without giving Ryou's bedhead a goodbye kiss in the morning and the scent of his tea in his office and a lint-roller full of long white hairs dusted off his suits sitting on the bathroom counter. It's Ryou realizing that he's found a new family for himself and how dear it is to him, and how he hopes this never ends because he found a place where he feels safe and loved and doesn't know if he could do this all over again.

My very first Euroshipping story(5) was based around this whole idea of Ryou babysitting Mokuba, and it just snuck its way into my other stories too.

I even put this trope in Rock Bottom where Ryou is Mokuba's babysitter, though the circumstances there are wildly different

or not, I play with the age difference for the Kaibros sometimes

either Mokuba is homeschooled, or he's just as suspicious of friendship as his older brother is, or he just gets into fights at school anytime people talk shit about his big bro (that's another trope of mine), so true friends are a little hard to come by

I swear I have three different scenes for two different fics (one is a deleted scene) of someone confessing their feelings to Kaiba and him asking them why because this boy can't understand why someone would like him on a personal level. It comes with the territory of being generally bad at emotions; it also comes with the territory of every version of Kaiba I write being traumatized to some degree, but that's gonna get its own post.

That fic is only posted on FFN, where all my oldest stuff is. I didn't think it was good enough to cross-post to AO3.