#capsule counting machine

[adinathinternationalindia]

Disc Based Capsule Counting Machine

Disc Based Capsule Counting Machine or pills is the best use for this equipment. The equipment is quite easy to use, and the machine design is very distinctive and highly functional.

[peachyhalstead]

married man | j. halstead

request:Can you do a Jay Halstead x Reader. They are both married and have a child together. The child just started pre-k or kindergarten and since the reader is heavily pregnant Jay has been dropping off and picking up their kid. And maybe like the single moms are flirting with Jay since they think he might be a single dad but they get surprised when the reader picks the kid one day after giving birth.

pairing: established (married) fem!reader x jay halstead

word count: 1.75k

warnings: none??

a/n: dad!jay dad!jay dad!jay !!!!! they have a little boy (his name is dylan) and a newborn girlie (what should her name be)

------

Grumbling as the alarm went off, you blindly reached over and whacked Jay on the chest. “Why’s it have to be so loud?”

Jay chuckled, silencing his phone’s alarm. “It’s not even that loud, babe.”

You glared at him through narrow eyes. “If I wasn’t about to pop right now I’d give you a piece of my mind.”

Letting out a hearty laugh, Jay got out of bed and folded his portion of the comforter back up, trapping the heat for you. “Only a few more weeks, babe. Then you’ll be able to move without having to pee every two seconds.”

You slowly followed Jay, yawning and rubbing the nine-month bump as you headed into the kitchen to package your son’s lunch.

He had recently started kindergarten, and loved telling you and Jay about all his escapades with his classmates as he learned different things.

“I could’ve done that, you didn’t have to get up.” Jay said, popping a capsule into the coffee machine and starting it.

Shrugging, you zipped the lunchbox closed and set it next to the matching blue backpack, one hand going to rub at the sore spot on your back. “I knew I wasn’t going to be able to fall back to sleep.”

Jay noticed, and his hands slowly made their way to the exact spot that bothered you in your first pregnancy. “Who do you thinks going to ask me out today, hm?”

Laughing softly, you clicked your tongue at Jay. “You really enjoy that, don’t you? Miss getting hit on?”

Jay shook his head. “Don’t miss it one bit. Just enjoy seeing those soccer moms think their whispers are quiet.”

A few weeks ago Jay had mentioned that some of the moms at drop-off had been talking about Jay, commenting on his lack of wedding band and no significant other ever at drop off or pick up.

“Momma, when will you go to school with me?” Dylan asked, your son finally making his appearance in his pajamas.

“Soon, little bug. Once Little Sister is here, I’ll drop you off with Daddy some days.”

Dylan frowned. “Can Sissy come now?”

You huffed, wanting nothing more than to deliver the weight that seemed to be constantly on your bladder. “I wish, but I think she needs a few more weeks.”

Jay smiled into his coffee cup, phone chiming with a text from Hailey. “Come on, Dyl. Let’s get dressed so you can show your friends your new shoes.”

Dylan beamed at the thought, and followed Jay back to his room, leaving you alone in the warm kitchen. The aroma of coffee lingered as you found a chair to rest in, hand absently tracing circles over your distended belly.

A sigh of contentment escaped you; this was your world, and despite the groggy mornings and occasional aggravations - like trying to convince Dylan to brush his teeth properly - you wouldn’t change it for anything else. That was the beauty of family - it wasn’t always perfect, but it was yours. And that made all the imperfections precious in their own odd way.

The sound of Jay's voice pulled you from your thoughts as he asked Dylan to choose between two shirts. You smiled, knowing how seriously your little boy took these morning decisions. Sipping on some water and slowly standing up, you decided to start breakfast.

The scent of eggs and bacon soon filled the room, joining the still lingering coffee aroma. Dylan would be excited; he loved his simple morning breakfasts. As you were flipping an egg, Jay returned with Dylan in tow. Their matching grins caught your eye.

“What are you two up to?” You questioned playfully, adjusting your hold on your bump.

“Nothing,” they both chimed in unison, their grins growing even wider.

“Okay,” you drew out the first syllable, grabbing a plate and moving the eggs for Dylan to eat, blowing on them as you cut them into pieces.

“Eat, then Daddy will bring you to school.” You smiled, cracking a few more eggs and grabbing a tortilla and the toppings you knew Jay liked, quickly making a breakfast wrap for him.

Wrapping it in foil, you smiled to yourself as you heard Jay helping Dylan put on his sneakers.

“Ok, we gotta go, Little Man! Go give Momma a kiss.”

Dylan skipped over to you, wrapping his little arms around your legs, promising you he’d come home with a drawing to put in the nursery.

Thanking him, you smiled at Jay as he grabbed the wrap and his badge, stopping to press a kiss to your forehead. “Take it easy today, babe.”

“I will. Go break hearts and catch perps, Jay.”

——

Jay hid his eye roll as he followed Dylan to the drop off location, ignoring the looks from the few single mothers nearby.

“I mean, who in their right mind wouldn’t grab that ass? He’s such a good dad, too.”

Jay overheard one of the mothers and shook his head, stifling a laugh. He still found it amusing and somewhat flattering to know that he was the topic of their little gossip circle. But he also knew firmly where his heart lay - at home with you and Dylan, and soon, your new little girl.

As Dylan scampered off towards his classroom, he turned to Jay with a big grin. "Daddy, do you think I can tell Mrs. Johnson about Sissy coming soon?"

Jay bent down to his level, ruffling his hair affectionately. "Of course, buddy. I'm sure she will be thrilled to hear it."

At that moment, a pair of giggling women walked by, shooting him suggestive glances over their shoulders. He merely smiled politely before turning away.

Arriving back at the car, Jay pulled out his phone and saw a text from you: Feeling better now that the house is empty. How did drop off go?

He quickly typed back: Smooth as always. He's telling all his teachers about his soon-to-be little sister.

Satisfied, he started the vehicle and headed towards the precinct. His phone chimed again with your response: That's my boy! Take care at work, Jay.

He chuckled as he imagined you grinning at your phone, feet kicked up on the coffee table even though you often chided him for doing the same thing.

——

The routine didn’t shift for the next few weeks, but the gossiping mothers were surprised when Dylan was dropped off by Will one day, Jay at the hospital where you were currently resting with the newest addition to the family.

“Uncle Will, can we see Momma and Sissy after school?” Dylan asked, tugging on his uncle’s hand.

"Of course, buddy," Will replied with a soft smile, watching as Dylan's face lit up with joy. "I bet they can't wait to see you."

Once Dylan scampered off towards his classroom, Will indulged in a moment of silence. He was used to the emergency room's relentless noise and bustle, so the unfamiliar hush of the school yard in the early morning was a welcome respite. A group of mothers were huddled together, shooting glances his way. Perhaps he was becoming part of their gossip routine now too - he silently hoped otherwise.

Meanwhile, at the hospital, Jay could barely tear his gaze away from you sleeping peacefully, the tiny bundle in his arms a testament to your strength and love. His heart swelled in his chest at the sight; you looked more beautiful than ever, your face radiating an exhausted but blissful glow as your daughter, their daughter, clung onto his finger with her small hand.

Just then, she stirred awake and let out a soft whimper which turned into a loud wail. He quickly got up and started to gently rock her, not wanting her cries to disturb your much-needed rest.

“Hey there, little princess,” he cooed softly as he bounced her gently in his arms. “Let’s not wake Mommy up now.”

After a few minutes of gentle rocking and hushed lullabies - Jay trying his best to remember the ones you sung to Dylan when he was an infant, the baby quieted down, blue eyes peering up at her father.

“Hi, munchkin. You already have half of Chicago’s first responders wrapped around your finger.” He whispered, soft smile at his lips as he thought back to the replies from his team when he sent the photo of the baby in the group chat.

"The other half is itching to meet you. Just wait until Uncle Will gets a hold of you. You're going to be spoiled rotten." He laughed softly, mindlessly tracing a finger over his daughter's tiny forehead.

His phone buzzed where he had left it on the bedside table. It was a message from Will letting him know that Dylan had been dropped off at school and asking if they could come by after school to see the baby.

Jay's heart swelled, even more, knowing his son was equally excited about his little sister's arrival. Jay quickly typed a response, assuring Will they would be more than happy to have visitors later in the day.

——

The day passed in a flurry of nurses checking vitals and bringing meals, phone calls from family and friends, and quiet moments spent marveling over their newest addition. Dylan was bursting with energy when Will brought him by after school, his wide eyes taking in everything with an infectious excitement that had everyone in the room smiling.

"Momma, Sissy is really small!" Dylan whispered in awe as he approached the bed, carefully peering over the edge of the bassinet.

You chuckled at his innocent observation as Jay helped him climb up onto the bed to get a better look. "Yes, she is," you agreed with a fond smile. "You were that small, too, Little Man!”

Dylan looked at you with wide eyes, shaking his head. “Nuh-uh!”

“Mhmm!” You replied, fixing his shirt as he squirmed to get another look at his sister.

“When can you and Sissy come to school?” He asked, looking at you.

Jay laughed quietly, and you looked at your husband. “Soon, Dyl.”

——

Two weeks later, you consoled the crying baby as Jay helped Dylan put his backpack on. “Can Sissy come meet Mrs. Johnson?”

Shaking your head, you carefully strapped the little girl into her carrier, softly rubbing her cheek. “Not yet. Maybe during the spring concert, but she’s still too little.”

Jay stood up and grabbed his keys. “She can help Momma and Daddy drop you off, though. That sound good?”

Dylan’s face lit up at the thought. “Yeah! Everyone will get to see her!” He jumped excitedly before Jay guided him out the door.

Satisfied with your successful early morning, you carried the baby carrier to the car and buckled it in securely at the back seat. Moving around was still a little tough for you but you were slowly getting the hang of things. You climbed into the passenger side, glancing back at Dylan who was squirming in his seat with anticipation.

The drive to the school was filled with Dylan's non-stop chatter about what he was going to show his little sister. Jay had a soft smile on his face as he listened to his son, occasionally glancing at you in admiration and shared joy.

Once they arrived in front of the school, Dylan unbuckled himself and carefully opened your car door for you. “Be careful, Momma!” He cautioned, making Jay chuckle as he followed behind with his son’s backpack.

You smiled, letting Jay go ahead with Dylan so he wasn’t late, working to unstrap your daughter’s carrier so Dylan could see her one last time before he was in school.

“Jay, haven’t seen you the last few days. Is everything okay?” One of the mothers who had tried to hit on Jay asked, faux worry on her face.

Jay wore a smile as he turned to the woman, Dylan's hand tucked safely in his own as they made their way toward the school entrance. "Yeah, everything’s great, actually. My wife just gave birth to our second child," he responded casually, nodding his head towards the car where you were carefully lifting the baby carrier.

The woman blinked in surprise before offering a tight-lipped smile, "Oh, I didn’t know... congratulations."

"Thanks," Jay replied with a nod before turning his attention back to Dylan whose bundle of excitement was barely contained. As Jay opened the door for him to enter he looked into the bright eyes of his son and smiled reassuringly, "You ready?"

Dylan nodded eagerly, already tugging on his father's hand to drag him inside. Jay followed docilely, striding up the hallway towards Dylan's classroom.

Meanwhile, you were still out by the car, struggling slightly with the baby carrier that seemed to weigh even more than your now two-week-old daughter. A few mothers noticed and stepped forward to help you, their faces lighting up at the sight of the infant bundled up against the cold.

"Oh she's absolutely adorable!" One woman cooed, and you recognized her from when Jay was telling you how one of them started to wear low-cut tops after he started doing drop off duty.

You walked with them to the doors, smile brightening when you saw Jay and Dylan at the door, the young boy wanting to say goodbye to his sister.

“Bye, Sissy! Bye, Momma!” Dylan smiled, giving his sister a kiss and hugging your legs, unaware that his farewells caused the mothers who had walked with you to gasp lightly.

Jay’s smile widened at Dylan's display of affection, ruffling his son's hair gently, "Alright, champ. We’ll pick you up later. Have a great day at school."

Dylan nodded eagerly before disappearing into the bustling school building with his teacher. The remaining mothers turned to you, their surprised expressions replaced by warm, slender smiles as they admired your little girl.

Back in the car, you laughed as Jay started the ignition. “Think I felt the daggers from some of the moms when they found out you’re married.”

Jay snorted, turning back to the road to your house. “Well, that or when they found out we have great sex. Either way, watch your back, babe.”

You gawked at Jay’s remark, hitting him in the chest. “Jay! Your daughter is listening!”

“Oh, she’ll hear worse when Ruz babysits her." ------ a/n: send requests if you wanna!!

[lightseoul]

admit it

synopsis. loving him from afar was enough. at least, it should’ve been enough. until it wasn’t. (or, in which you subtly take care of your ex, bakugou katsuki, who also happens to be the namesake of the agency you’re working at) (part 2) (part 3)

cw. fem!reader, worker!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~24 yrs old)

word count. 5.0k words

Being the HR Department Head of the Ground Riot agency, you’ve learned to take care of Pro Hero Dynamight in subtle ways.

Primarily because even though he isn’t technically your direct superior—he rarely dabbled in admin work as compared to his co-founder Kirishima Eijirou—you didn’t want to stir up drama or reports on inappropriate workplace relationships.

Especially as the head of the Human Relations department.

But that’s not the only reason.

It’s also because—well, he’s your ex.

The ex who you never really understood in terms of how he became that.

“You know, we really need to redecorate this place.”

Mikuri, your colleague from the PR department, muses as she scans the breakroom from her spot on the L-shaped sofa.

You place the black coffee pods you picked up on your way home yesterday near the coffee machine, “Tell that to Finance. The breakroom decor is probably the least of their worries.”

She merely sighs in response as she reverts her attention to her phone.

“You do know that doom scrolling during your break isn’t exactly resting, right?”

At that, she pouts but doesn’t look up. “I hear you, Ms. HR.”

You playfully roll your eyes at the nickname.

“Stocking up on coffee during one’s break isn’t exactly resting, either.”

At her mention of the beverage, your eyes drift back to the pods you have in your hands. You found that they ran out before your shift ended the day prior and were quick to buy refills.

“What are you doing with that flavor, anyway?” she finally lifts her head to regard you, pocketing her phone as she stands up. You look up at the wall clock—break time’s almost over. “Didn’t you dislike that?”

You smile to yourself, fiddling with capsules. Mikuri was right—you didn’t really like this flavor.

But Katsuki did.

And he still does, you think.

“Y/N!”

You whip your head around to see the owner of the familiar voice—Kirishima, decked out in his hero gear, looking like he’s about to head out for patrol.

“Hey! What’s up, Ei?”

He grins, head sticking through the slightly ajar sliding door, “I’m good! ‘s a good thing I ran into you—Bakugou got called out on an emergency mission.”

He nods at Mikuri in greeting, smile still adorning his face, before shifting his gaze back at you. “Looks like it’s still gonna be me and you during the final screening later.”

His eyes dart toward the coffee machine and the freshly stocked pods. Your hips shuffle in front of it before your brain could even catch up.

“Great, see you then!”

With that, Kirishima flashes you a final grin before easing out of the door and heading toward the elevators.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Final screening?” Mikuri whisper-shouts the second Kirishima’s out of sight.

You sigh, collecting the packaging and shoving it into the trash bin. “Sidekicks. He finally got Bakugou to say yes to getting one.”

“Oof, good luck with that.”

“Personally, I think it boils down to these two.”

You thrust forward the two sets of files in front of you, eyeing everyone seated at the oval-shaped meeting table.

“I agree,” your HR subordinate chimes in from the far end of the table.

“I vote for web dude,” another adds. “He’s so much like Bakugou personality-wise. They’d have to click.”

The recruitment head shakes her head, “Yeah, but his quirk doesn’t complement Bakugou’s explosion as much as the girl’s water jet.”

“I know, Yamakawa-san. But did you even see her? She’s so timid, I’ll bet you 5,000 yen that she’ll quit on day 1 of Bakugou shouting at her.”

Murmurs of agreement course through the room, but you’re not paying attention to what they’re whispering to each other.

“I doubt he’ll want someone so similar to him,” you mumble to yourself.

Apparently, you say it loud enough because everyone looks at you in confusion.

Shit.

“I mean, imagine how much of a PR and HR nightmare that will be,” you joke, although it comes out a bit stilted. Fortunately, they, including Kirishima who is seated at your right and at one end of the table, chuckle at your wisecrack.

“Are you voting for the girl, then?” the recruitment head inquires once the laughter dies down.

“Well…” you pause, “I agree that Moriyama-san is remarkably meek and timid, but just from her series of interviews, let alone her practical test, I could see she liked a good challenge.”

You tap her portrait, “Beyond just being a good match for Bakugou’s quirk, she’ll surely step up. And I know for a fact that if there’s anyone who can guarantee that, it’s Katsuki.”

At that, some eyes widen, and you can’t help but tilt your head in confusion at the perplexed looks they’re giving you.

“I mean, Bakugou!” you backtrack, finally realizing your mistake.

Desperate to change the subject, you direct your attention toward Kirishima. “What do you think, Kirishima-san?”

He passes you a knowing smile, one that is too unnerving for your liking, before leaning back on his chair.

“I think you’re right.”

You allow yourself to do some internal chastising the minute the meeting is adjourned.

Hiding your complicated feelings for Bakugou was easy—mainly because you rarely saw him around.

But hiding how much you knew about him?

That’s a whole different story.

“Good work, Y/N,” Kirishima pats you on the shoulder as the rest of your recruitment crew pile to exit the room.

You flash him a thankful smile before hopping on your feet and gathering your documents. “I’m trying not to make you regret hiring me, boss.”

He chuckles good-naturedly before looking away in what you think is reluctance.

“What is it?” you prod, feeling a sense of uneasiness crawl through your spine.

He seems to hesitate before continuing, “I was just gonna say—you always know what’s best for Bakugou.”

At that, your expression falters, and you feel your shoulders tensing at the mention of Bakugou’s name. You refuse to let your hurt (or whatever the fuck it is you’re feeling) show on your face, though.

Instead, you shrug as nonchalantly as you can. “I just want the best for my bosses.”

Kirishima doesn’t say anything after that, but you can tell the gears are running in his brain. He simply nods in acknowledgment of your response before heading for the door himself, and you follow suit.

You’re at the doorway, stifling a tired yawn when you lock eyes with the man of the hour himself.

“Bakubro!” Kirishima exclaims in greeting. He encases Bakugou in a bro hug, which the latter begrudgingly accepts. “You got the mission done and over with?”

Bakugou, in all of his costume-decked glory, eyes the redhead and scoffs, “Obviously.”

His eyes flicker to yours. You nod at each other in lieu of a verbal greeting.

“You just missed the meeting,” Kirishima starts, vaguely aware of the palpable tension between the two of you. “We found’em—your first-ever sidekick!”

You almost want to laugh at how Bakugou doesn’t match Kirishima’s energy.

He simply grunts in response.

But Kirishima’s not the type to give up so easily. Instead, he adds: “Y/N made the final decision.”

You stiffen at the mention of your name, Bakugou’s eyes shifting toward you at the same time. You brace yourself for a snarky retort or a lame insult, but nothing comes.

Instead, he merely gives you a firm nod.

“Thanks.”

At that, he makes his way to his corner office.

You were only reminded that your HR personnel was still around when murmurs erupted in Bakugou’s wake.

“Just like that?”

“Wait, he’s in?”

“Wow, never thought he was capable of saying thank you.”

“Yeah, all I get is a halfhearted eye roll.”

The last comment would’ve made you snort if you weren’t too dazed by how uncharacteristic that was of Bakugou. You stand there for what feels like minutes as the others around you start toward their respective offices.

Finally snapping out of the trance the second you realized you were alone in the hallway, you head toward your own office, renewed with the resolve to take your mind off of one Bakugou Katsuki.

You had just the thing to keep yourself busy.

The monthly HR-hosted game night of Ground Riot agency is the one HR activity everyone actually looked forward to.

It’s the one time of the month employees get to let loose during weekdays and bond with colleagues, as well as enjoy free food and drinks, including the occasional booze.

It is also a pain in the ass to organize.

As the HR department head, you technically served as the project head, too, overseeing all of the subcommittees—from programs to logistics—on top of your everyday workload.

Suffice to say, the week before game nights never fails to whoop you in the ass with crushing responsibilities (and for the record, you’re not overreacting—you take your HR events very seriously) but you dare say that the outcomes and seeing everyone enjoy themselves always make it worth it.

For this month, in the spirit of encouraging employee engagement in your department, you let the Recruitment and Selection subdepartment be in charge of the program’s game proper.

In hindsight, maybe you shouldn’t have.

Because now your very own HR members are dragging everyone to answer very personal truth-or-dare questions.

And ‘everyone’ happened to include Bakugou Katsuki.

“Bakugou-san!” an employee from the engineering department regards said man, who, by some miracle, has let himself be forced into playing.

Having chosen the ‘truth’ option, he is now seated on the mini-stage you happened to help set up earlier that afternoon.

One of your subordinates hands the support items engineer a microphone. The latter taps the mic before resuming, glee evident in her voice. “How many people have you dated?”

Cheers go off from all around the room at the question, and you shoot a withering glare at your assigned subdepartment members. One catches your eye and visibly cringes.

But goes on pretending they didn’t see you.

Fucking hell.

Grabbing yourself a microphone from the sound booth, you speak into it, trying not to freak out over the fact that this will very much be the first time you’ll verbally address Bakugou in two years.

“Apologies, Bakugou-san,” you start, “You don’t have to answer that.”

Everyone looks at you in bewilderment, including Bakugou who himself looks puzzled.

You take the lull that has befallen upon the room as a sign to continue.

“Such questions are deemed inappropriate as per HR standards. I’m going to have to speak with my subordinates after this.”

You expected uneasy silence as a response, but you sure as hell didn’t anticipate the plethora of jeers that erupt in the room, some even exclaiming exasperated ‘come on’s’.

You’re about to insist (as calmly as you can, that is) when a low, gruff voice crackles from the speakers.

“‘s fine. I’ll answer the fucking question.”

The room goes entirely still. You hold your breath.

He heaves a sigh, and you could’ve sworn his gaze flickered to you for a moment before he looks away.

“Just one.”

Oohs and aahs get passed around, and despite yourself, you feel a shot of relief course through your veins at the implication of Bakugou’s answer.

He hasn’t dated since you.

“Are you guys still together?” a male employee shouts from the other end of the room, and you can’t help the rush of blood toward your cheeks at the question.

You need to put your foot down, now.

“Okay,” you interject, “that’s enou–”

“No. We broke up two years ago.”

Your head whips toward Bakugou’s direction, shocked at his ready admission. The reprimanding words that you were about to spit out die in your throat.

“You plan on seeing anyone anytime soon?” another employee asks from the other far corner.

You’re about to pipe up in protest—distressed over the inappropriate questions, as the HR head or ex-girlfriend, you don’t know—when Kirishima stands up and barks out a good-natured laugh.

“I think that’s enough prodding, you guys.” His eyes flicker to Bakugou’s and then yours in a split second, face etched with concern, before he turns back his attention to the crowd, a toothy grin having replaced his previous expression.

You didn’t realize how tense your muscles have gotten until Kirishima stepped in to intervene, and at that, you slowly let out a big exhale through your nose.

God fucking no. The last thing you need is for your co-workers to find out that the HR head, of all people, is their boss’s ex.

Before you can even spiral further, though, you feel a hand clap your upper back. You twist to find Kirishima, who is, weirdly enough, beaming with excitement.

“We actually have something special planned for a special someone today.”

And as if on cue, the rest of your HR department enters the room, with your secretary carrying your favorite cake and the others holding balloons and a bouquet of your favorite flowers.

You don’t remember telling anyone about your favorites except for one person.

Confused, you turn towards Kirishima. “What’s going on?”

“What’s going on?” he mimics, amused at your confusion and the employees who hear laugh. “It’s your one-year anniversary in the agency!”

You could only gape in shock as the people around you, the ones you, over time, grew to identify as family, crowd you and urge you to blow out the candle and accept the flowers.

Still disoriented, you do what they tell you, and they cheer in response as you do so.

With all the busyness that came with the search for sidekicks and the monthly HR game night, you completely forgot about the significance of today’s date.

Overwhelmed by the sentiments and the sea of people surrounding you, you don’t know where to look or mouth a thank you.

Somehow, your gaze finds Bakugou’s—only to see him already looking at you from behind the crowd.

You’re about to look away, unable to sustain his piercing gaze, when he flashes you a small smile.

None of those smirks or mischievous grins he usually sports around other people.

No, this one was different.

Because this was the kind of smile he’d reserved especially for private moments with you.

Before you can give it a second thought, you find yourself smiling back.

“You really couldn’t be bothered to change into normal clothes before coming here?”

You, as inconspicuously as you can, look around the café you’re currently in, wary of paparazzi or anyone else that could recognize Pro Hero Pinky. The last thing you needed was a picture of you (the lucky civilian), haggard after a long day of work, all over Twitter.

“Nah,” she shrugs, “patrol was completely uneventful anyway. I’ll shower when I get home.”

You reach for your iced drink, mumbling under your breath, “I wasn’t worried about you…”

“Hey!” she pouts, “Is that how you treat a friend who’s done you a major favor?”

Your eye twitches at the mention of a favor.

These things never end well with Mina.

“Mina…” you groan, “what did you do?”

She rubs her neck sheepishly. “I kind of promised one of my colleagues that you’d go on a blind date with him.”

“What the fuck?”

She grabs your hand over the table that sits between the two of you. “He’s a real catch, I promise you. Tall, handsome, and a crazy smart support items engineer.”

You frantically shake your head, yanking your hand from her. “Idiot, I’m not worried about your ‘candidate’. Who the fuck said I wanted to go on a blind date?”

Mina whines and thrashes in her seat in response, maybe in an attempt to make you feel sorry and just go along with her antics.

You refuse to do so.

After a few minutes of an incredulous stare-off, she finally deflates in defeat.

“I just thought I could help you out and get you out of your shell. You haven’t dated anyone since…” she trails off, and looks away awkwardly, “you know.”

You chuckle despite yourself, albeit quite solemnly.

Until now, it still makes you feel guilty how the rest of your friend group is forced to deal with the aftermath of your unsuccessful relationship with Bakugou.

“You can say his name, you know. He’s not Voldemort.”

Mina rolls her eyes at that, but you can tell it’s playful more than anything else.

You look down at your now clasped hands. “I appreciate the help, you know that.”

She nods vigorously, and you almost laugh at how much of a textbook-active listener she is.

“But?”

You sigh, “I just can’t right now. If I end up dating someone, word will eventually get around in the office and I just…”

You lock eyes with Mina, whose eyebrows are raised in anticipation.

“I don’t want to make things awkward between Bakugou and me, especially now that I’m working in his agency.”

A few moments of silence pass before Mina speaks up, slunk against her chair.

“Man, you’re the world’s best ex-girlfriend, you know that?”

You snort, “Thanks.”

She sighs in exasperation, “I mean, even if you guys had the most ambiguous breakup ever, you still are extremely considerate about him.”

You’re not, by any means, in the mood or headspace to explore why that is, so you go for the safest answer possible.

“What can I say,” leaning back into your chair yourself, feigning nonchalance, “I’m just an incredibly good person.”

Mina doesn’t even bat an eye at your quip, “Yeah, yeah. Why did you guys break up, anyway?”

“Woah,” you lean back, aghast, “it’s,” you flick your wrist to check the time on your watch, “5:17 PM, Mina. And I doubt this café even serves a beer.”

You’re deflecting, and Mina has known you long enough to be aware of that.

She leans back in her chair and crosses her arms across her chest. “Don’t you think I’m owed a little bit of information? I’m the one who set you guys up.”

“Actually, that was Kirishi–.”

“Doesn’t matter,” she interjects, “I helped.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. She waves it off.

“Point is, I was there when this budding relationship started, and I’m here to know the deets about how it ended.”

You shake your head in resignation, “You sure you don’t want to say you’re just nosy?”

She grins at you, “Nope!”

“So you’re telling me he got too busy and neglectful, you ended up asking for a break, and you’ve never talked to each other since?”

“Yep. That’s what I just said.”

Out of the blue, she hops onto her feet, and in doing so knocks stuff around on the table.

A glass of water almost spills.

“Mina?” you seethe, “Sit the fuck back down. People are gonna stare.”

“Bitch, I have pink skin. They’ve been staring since we entered the room,” she snaps, “And don’t even think about changing the subject.”

“I’m not! Just sit back down.”

She obliges, but she’s still visibly riled up, “I knew your breakup was vague, but not this vague!”

“I don’t know either, okay!” you put your hands up, exasperated. “A month into it he got Kirishima to get his things from my apartment, and so I just assumed he wanted to break up.”

Her eyes are filled with bewilderment, “And your asking me to get your things from his apartment?”

“I…” you hesitate, “I asked you immediately the day after.”

At that, she huffs in surrender, sinking back into her chair. “And you’re supposed to be an expert at conflict resolution.”

“Hey,” you throw a used tissue at her, which she expertly dodges, “That’s for the workplace setting. Romantic relationships are a whole other thing.”

She scoffs, fiddling with the piece of paper containing the café’s WiFi password. “And then, what? You took a gap year to find yourself?”

You roll your eyes for the nth time, reaching forward to take back the tissue you threw at her.

“Don’t make it sound like that. I just took a gap year after graduating to rest and figure out what I wanted to do. I was just lucky enough to have been recruited by Kirishima even if I had zero work experience by the time I came back.”

Mina eyes you, “Even if it meant technically having Bakugou as your boss?”

You look down at the piece of tissue in your hands.

“Even if it meant actually having Bakugou as my boss.”

Mina doesn’t say anything after that, only reaching for her cup of decaf coffee. You follow suit, taking a sip from your now-diluted drink.

You look up at her to see that she’s thinking hard about something.

In spite of yourself, you feel the familiar feeling of dread rising in your throat.

“...You’re not gonna tell him about this conversation, are you?”

“Who, Katsuki?” she asks and you gingerly nod. “Of course not!”

You hold eye contact for a while longer before looking away with a big sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

Three knocks echo through the hallway, as well as Kirishima’s expansive, corner office. Hesitantly and without noise, you peer through the glass door to see him in his regular clothes and in his desk, rifling through some documents that appear to be mission reports.

Kirishima looks up and catches your eye. Beaming at you with an inviting grin, he beckons you in with a wave of a hand.

“Y/N, bro! What’s up?”

You smile at him as you enter and close the door behind you.

He calls everyone bro, regardless of their gender.

“Hi, Ei. I have the report on the recruits, including Bakugou’s sidekick here with me,” you gesture to the folder in your hand. “Can you spare a minute to go through it together?”

What seems like hesitation dances across Kirishima’s face before he somehow schools it into a sheepish frown.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he starts, “I’m kinda busy right now,”

He flips through the pages for emphasis, “Have an important report due in an hour.”

“Oh, well that’s okay. I can just come back later when you’re free.”

You’re already turning back to exit his office when Kirishima speaks up again.

“—but Bakugou’s available!”

Slowly, you shift back to face him.

“...What?”

“I mean,” Kirishima backtracks, evidently flustered by his outburst, “Bakugou’s free right now. He can go through those documents with you. Especially since he’s the one getting a new sidekick and all.”

You gulp despite yourself, willing desperately to calm your now racing heart.

“But Ei… It’s always been you and our department coordinating on stuff like this. Why the sudden change now?”

It takes Kirishima a few seconds to reply.

And what he says knocks the breath out of your lungs.

“I just think it’s about time he starts taking matters into his own hands.”

When you got dressed and ready this morning, you didn’t think you’d be having your first proper conversation with your ex in two years.

But the universe, or rather, Kirishima, had other plans.

Thinking ‘this is the best it can get’ as you stare at your reflection in the bathroom mirror, you sigh and make your way to your desk to get the files, heading straight to Bakugou’s office afterward.

When you get there, you don’t dare to immediately walk toward his doorway as you did with Kirishima. Instead, you stop at his secretary’s desk.

“Is Dynamight in?”

“Yes,” his secretary chirps without hesitation. How she’s able to still be her sunshiney self despite working immediately under Bakugou is beyond you.

Human resilience, you guess.

She clicks a few times with her mouse as she stares at her laptop screen, before looking back at you again. “He’s actually expecting you, Y/N-san.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief.

Hope flutters in your chest without your permission.

You clear your throat in an attempt to not sound winded. “Really?”

You’re itching to ask if he cleared out his schedule specifically for you, but luckily, you don’t even have to make a fool of yourself because his secretary brings it up herself.

She smiles, “He had me move things around so he could make time for you.”

At that, you blink at her, speechless.

These double meanings are not helping in easing your nerves about this impending encounter.

“You can go ahead,” she gestures to the office, effectively snapping you out of your reverie. “I already gave him the heads up that you’re here.”

Great, you think to yourself. No turning back now.

After shooting her a quick thank you, you clutch the folder to your chest, as if it’s some sort of protective gear, and walk to his door. Upon reaching it, you realize that you don’t even have to knock, because it’s already slung wide open and held in place by a stopper.

You walk in.

Refusing to look at Bakugou, who, from the corner of your eye you can see has his back towards you and is looking at the view of the city skyline, you opt for going through the pages of the file instead.

With a sharp inhale, you finally look up to meet his gaze, only to find that he’s still turned away from you.

He probably didn’t hear me come in, you think.

You clear your throat, and he startles, albeit so minutely anyone else would’ve missed it, finally turning to regard you.

“Hello, Bakugou-san.”

You don’t wait for him to greet you in return. You simply move forward and place the folder on his desk, before stepping back again, hands clasped together behind you. He nods in acknowledgment and shifts to sit on his office chair.

“That folder contains the report on the recruits, including your new sidekick, Moriyama Kairi. It includes their personal histories, interview transcripts, and resumés, as well as recommendations by the departments regarding costumes, training programs, and the like.”

He only grunts in response, thumbing through the pages as you speak. He flips through them so fast that you doubt he’s even going to bother anything beyond skimming through.

He pauses, though, on a certain page, eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowing as he examines it, before closing the folder and placing it back in front of him.

You brace yourself for a comment on an error of some sort.

Instead, he says: “Thanks.”

Your mind goes blank.

You scramble for a decent response.

“Oh, it’s nothing.”

“...Really?” he questions skeptically, pushing back on his desk to stand up, slowly circling it so that he can be face-to-face with you. He’s no less than two feet away now.

“It’s nothing?”

“I mean,” you stutter, shifting your eyes away from him to look at his desk, “it’s my job. That’s part of the job description.”

“Huh,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. Your eyes flicker back to him. Like Kirishima, he’s in his regular clothes, hands shoved deep into his pockets.

“What?” you ask despite yourself, frustration bleeding into your voice.

He smirks, but there’s no malice behind it. “I didn’t know HR was supposed to produce a detailed write-up on how a sidekick can best complement their assigned Pro Hero.”

Your eyes widen slightly in alarm, and you find yourself grappling for any excuse to rid yourself of his suspicions.

Despite them being true.

“We are, actually,” you lie through your teeth. “I made a similar one for Kirishima back when we recruited Tanaka-san.”

“Really?” he asks again, visibly unconvinced, and you can’t help the annoyance that flashes through you. “Because I read through that file myself, and I didn’t see anything of the sort.”

Shit.

The playful expression that once adorned Bakugou’s face is now displaced by a serious countenance. You don’t even get to have a word in because he’s already speaking again.

“Why?” he starts, “Why did you do this for me?”

At that, you straighten up, face flaming in anger or embarrassment—you can’t tell. He seriously can’t be asking you this.

“It’s your first sidekick,” you retort, “And you’re not exactly Mr. Congeniality around here.”

You expect him to bite back with an insult himself, but he doesn’t.

“Okay, let’s say that’s true.”

You guffaw, “Wha–”

“Why go out of your way to make me this when you’re already drowning in work?”

You can’t believe the audacity of this guy.

“So you admit HR has been swamped these days?” you snap, but continue to deliver the last blow. “Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know! Since it’s Kirishima who does all of the coordinating work with us.”

“I do know,” he spits back, “That’s by design, and I’m more involved than you’d think. And,” he shoots you a look, “don’t change the subject.”

You’re bubbling with vengeful words but what comes out is a huff.

“What do you want me to say, Katsuki?”

At your taunting, he opens his mouth to say something, but ultimately decides against it.

Your stomach drops in disappointment.

“...Well,” you say meekly, “if you don’t have anything else for me, I have to get back to my office.”

Turning your back to him, you’re about to head for the door when he grabs your wrist.

“Wait.”

Your heart leaps in your chest.

You pause for a moment, before spinning to look at him.

It takes you less than a second to conclude that gone is the aloof and composed Bakugou.

It’s now the vulnerable Katsuki, who’s unable to look you in the eye, standing in front of you.

“Fuck, I…”

You can’t help but ache at the sight of him struggling. Despite yourself, you try and gently coax it out of him.

“What is it, Katsuki?”

At your affectionate mention of his first name, he finally meets your eye. You almost stumble back from the intensity of his gaze.

But not as much as at what he was going to say next.

“I want…you to admit it.”

You frown, “Admit what?”

He exhales before closing his eyes shut.

“That you’re still in love with me.”

tagging. @katsukis1wife

[lovingpiastri]

GOOD OLD FASHIONED LOVER BOY (op81 x female!reader)

ꪆৎ who the hell cares if it is 2024! oscar's one true mission is to show you all his love languages. even the 'outdated' ones..

warnings: tooth rotting fluff!

dating in the modern world is possibly every hopeless romantics most haunting nightmare, their bane of existence if you will. unlike enamoured couples in the fifties, people these days have lost the plot of loving one another, & displaying affection seemingly became equally as difficult as scavenging for a needle in a haystack. most loverboys adapted into heartless playboys alike to all the cliché 2000s chick flicks that the protagonist has their heart stringed tugged by.

on the other hand, oscar piastri would never resemble anything remote to those ruthless segments of crap. afterall his most favourite thing was to cherish you and he had the most unique methods of doing it in this loveless generation.

1. illegally burning cds with all your most adored melodies and harmonies of songs. perhaps the riskiest one of all but it's the thought that counts . for the longest time music has been your escapism, and it's only fair for oscar to gift relaxation for you on a silver platter. sure he could create you a lousy spotify playlist , but it's the effort that adds the cherry on top.

2. sharing a sickenly-sweet milkshake in a time capsulated 80s diner that has been stuck in a forgotten for far too long . the delightful gesture has a silent intimacy, one that's almost to difficult to spot yet it's most definitely present. especially when your foreheads clash together on accident as you both lean in for a long sip of the vanilla treat.

3. holding up a much-too-heavy boom box outside your home, alike to lloyd dobler, in attempt to serenade you using only the most romantic frank sinatra song 'love is here to stay'. all whilst swaying to the sound of the jazzy saxophone and the amorous piano instruments working in symphony. oh what a dork!

4. even remembering the tiniest details about you never fail to make you giddily kick your feet, so it was excellent that oscar didn't happen to have short term memory loss! from how you prefer your coffee down to your silly catch phrases when something unfortunate occured. he remembered them all.

5. dragging you along to a much too exhausted photo booth, a machine in desperate need of repairing yet the damage was what made the gesture all the more amorous. the old strip of film was threatening to rip apart even when brand new, so as one would (or just oscar) he stored it in his phonecase, resembling a display case in a museum which entrapped the most compellingly stunning soul: you!

©lovingpiastri

[chocochipsushi]

𝐌𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐊𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭?

SFW

🌸Word count: 600 words

🌸AU: your soulmate wore your Hello Kitty shirt by accident and now he doesn't want to return it

🌸Pairing: Toji x reader, SatoSugu

🌸A/N: I got the idea from this fan art that I saw and I just HAD to write this scenario!!! While writing it I thought it would act so well as an epilogue for the soulmate au!Toji piece so I decided to make it a series-ish.

<< Prequel, Part 1

“Who’s that?” Toji grumbles into your hair. 

The doorbell rings once more. You nudge his arm that is around you and mumble sleepily, “Toji, you go.”

The doorbell rings again. Groaning, Toji reluctantly gets up, extracting his arms from around you. You hear him pick up a shirt as he leaves the room. 

You’re about to fall back to sleep when you hear a screeching laughter and a bang. You’re jolted awake, so suddenly that you force yourself to get up out of bed. You stumble upon the closest clothing apparel and wear it, letting it engulf you. You leave your room haphazardly, wearing a shirt that is definitely not yours. 

You rub the sleep out of your eyes and notice belatedly that you have guests streaming into your apartment, namely Satoru and Suguru. They’re doubling over in laughter, almost falling to their knees as they take their shoes off. 

You’re listless as you watch them guffawing and crying, wondering what on earth they’re on about, until Toji shuts the door and turns around scratching the back of his head. The tight shirt he is wearing rides up and shows off his abs, catching you off guard. You blink again and scan your eyes slowly over his body, noticing how the sleeves of his top cling to his biceps. Not to forget the stretched out Hello Kitty face on the fabric. 

Once again, it takes you a while to realise that he is wearing your pajama top. It doesn’t help that the two of you had worn a matching set of pink Hello Kitty PJ bottoms you’d bought so Toji literally has on a full complete outfit. 

You clap your hand over your mouth to try to hide your smile. Toji narrows his eyes on you. He stares down at his pecs and starts pulling on the shirt. When he realises what the cause of Satoru’s and Suguru’s laughing fit was, he lets out the loudest, most defeated groan. You giggle behind your palm. 

“I’d thought I was getting bigger,” he grumbles. 

This only throws Satoru and Suguru into another bout of laughter. They’re even rolling on the ground. Toji, surprisingly, doesn't even take the shirt off as he steps over his friends and walks to the kitchen to make some coffee. You can see his midriff from how small the top is. 

Going over to him, you look up at him focusing on making coffee. “Wanna switch, Toji?”

“Hmm?” he hums lazily. 

He places a cup under the drip of the machine and pops the capsule in. Finally, while his coffee is being prepared, he leans his hip against the counter and turns to you. He eyes you up and down, taking in the image of his usually body-hugging t-shirt loose on you, making you look so small and soft and safe. 

He turns the corners of his scarred lips down and shakes his head. “Nah. I like this shirt.”

You give him a look as you try to fight off your laughter. “My Hello Kitty shirt?”

Toji gives you another once over. Messy bed hair, sleepy eyes, pink Hello Kitty pajama pants, and his oversized black t-shirt. “Yep,” he confirms. “You can have my shirt.”

You chuckle and place your hands on his exposed stomach, sliding your palms up his abs slightly as you move slightly closer. You tip your toes and murmur cheekily, “You look so sexy, Toji. You should wear crop tops more often.”

Toji suddenly grabs a fistful of your shirt and pulls you against him, causing you to gasp in shock. Your eyes are wide in surprise as you gape at him. Then you receive a smack to your ass. He leans down so his lips are by your ear and says, “Now you know why I can’t keep my hands off you for more than a minute.” 

You feel your face flushing with embarrassment and you know he can feel the heat radiating off you because he turns and gives you a kiss to your cheek, then your lips. He moans when he gives you a squeeze to your ass, always enjoying the feel of your tender flesh in his hands. As he moves away with his hand still fondling to your bum, his other one picks up his ready cup of coffee. He stares at you over the rim of his cup as he takes a sip. 

“Want me to make you some tea, baby?” he asks gruffly. 

You shake your head shyly. He hums and leans in to leave a chaste, coffee-scented kiss on your forehead before he stops touching you to go over to the kitchen island. He rests his cup and palms on the marble top as he peers over the other side to watch his friends lying on the ground, no longer laughing, now catching their breaths. 

“Coffee?” 

At Toji’s voice, the two men look up at him, only to drop their gazes to his ridiculous shirt, and they are sent into another endless loop of laughing and chortling. 

“Get out,” Toji finally snaps, having had enough of their mockery. 

<< Prequel, Part 1

-

© chocochipsushi 2024 all works are mine, please do not rewrite/plagiarise

[sweetchestnutdaydreams]

◤Burnt Toast◢

Character: Spencer Reid Genre: Humor, Fluff Word Count: 1,479 words Warnings: None, just light humor and fluff Summary: You’re determined to make Spencer breakfast in bed, but things don’t exactly go as planned. Chaos ensues in the kitchen, but Spencer finds it all ridiculously endearing.

The morning starts gently. Sunbeams filter through the curtains, slipping timidly into the room, while the comforting warmth of Spencer’s familiar body is pressed against yours — a rare luxury, with his unpredictable schedule. You stay there, silently watching him, fascinated by every detail of his face. His features are soft yet deeply masculine, a perfect balance. His brows furrow slightly in his sleep, and you can’t help but smile as his lips whisper words only his dreams can understand.

It’s a beautiful sight, one you want to burn into your memory to hold onto until the next time. A less dramatic option would be to grab your phone and take a picture, but you’re too scared to wake him. You slip carefully out of bed, pausing at every creak of the floorboards, holding your breath. Any louder breath from Spencer makes you flinch. After what feels like an eternity, you finally reach the kitchen.

With your hands on your hips, you glance around the room, thinking about what you could prepare for your boyfriend for breakfast. And not just any breakfast—breakfast in bed. Because you woke up before him, he had a long week, and he deserves a treat for that—though, really, he always deserves a treat, but this time you have the perfect excuse to make sure he doesn’t feel bad about it.

You’re not the best cook, but it can’t be that hard to whip up a perfect—edible—meal for your love, right?

You start by rummaging through the fridge, pulling out eggs and bacon before grabbing the bread and setting everything on the counter. Each movement is deliberate, like you’re walking on eggshells, afraid of waking Spencer by accident. Everything is going so well.

It’s when you get to the coffee—the simplest thing in the world, really—that things start to go wrong.

You put Spencer’s favorite capsule into the machine, place the coffee cup, and press the features. The button blinks as usual, so you turn your attention back to the eggs sizzling in the pan.

The spatula slides under one of the eggs, the yolk wobbling dangerously, and you flip it over awkwardly. The pride you feel at your successful maneuver is cut short by a shrill noise. You jump, eyes wide, and rush toward the coffee machine. You frantically press all the buttons, none of which you understand, but nothing stops the noise. Finally, you yank the cord from the wall, the motion so abrupt that the cup dislodges.

Crouching, breath caught in your throat, you blink dumbly before pressing the curse object to your forehead and muttering another obscenity. You glance at the hallway, straining your ears, but there’s no sign that Spencer’s been disturbed. A sigh of relief escapes you as you set the cup back.

Your gaze falls again on the stupid coffee machine, and you decide to abandon that part of the plan. After one last murderous glare at the thing, you open the bag of bread with a resigned sigh and slip two slices into the toaster. You set the dial to the middle, push down the lever, and this time, you stand your ground, arms crossed.

Go ahead, try me, you think, glaring intensely at the toaster as if daring it to fail.

The crackling of the eggs in the pan, followed by the unmistakable smell of burning, snaps you back to reality. You hastily turn off the burner and grab the pan. But your grip slips, and you catch it just in time, but too late: the burned eggs slide off the edge and splat onto the floor in a defeated thud.

“Seriously?” You mutter with a click of your tongue, exasperated. The universe clearly decided you would never make breakfast for Spencer.

You head to the sink to wash the pan, then wipe the edges a bit too aggressively. On your way back, you, of course, slip on the eggs you forgot to clean up.

A surprised yelp escapes you as you fall hard on your butt, the pan clutched against your chest in an absurd reflex. A sharp pain shoots through your back, and as you try to get up, your knee lands right in the sticky mess of egg white and yolk. You grimace, frustrated, before heading back to grab something to clean up the disaster.

This is why you hate cooking, you tell yourself as you kneel (carefully) to clean up the mess. The kitchen itself seems out to get you. Once the floor is clean again, you try to ignore the gross, sticky feeling on your arms and pajama pants, debating whether or not to cook more eggs for Spencer.

That’s when the smell of burnt toast hits your nose. The smoke reaches you just before the alarm goes off. Your heart leaps into your throat, and you act on instinct, grabbing a towel to wave away the smoke from the detector. It takes just a few swipes, a couple of quick beeps, and you still cling to the vain hope that you haven’t woken Spencer.

You run a hand through your hair, stopping when you feel your strands stick to your fingers. A groan escapes you. Of course, you forgot to wash your hands, and now you have egg in your hair.

“My love?”

Spencer stands in the doorway, his voice thick with sleep as he rubs his eyes. He still seems half-asleep, not fully registering the chaos. You offer him a guilty smile and a nervous laugh.

“I hope I didn’t wake you…?” you mumble, hoping the disaster is less obvious than it looks.

He hums as his gaze sweeps across the mess—from your clothes to the floor, to the counter, and finally to the stove. His eyes linger a little too long on your hair, and you can see the corner of his lips twitching.

“Don’t laugh!” you threaten, pointing a finger at him, but his lips are already trembling, barely able to contain his laughter.

Spencer presses his lips together, but he utterly fails to suppress his chuckle. He steps closer, and though you cross your arms in a pout, it takes everything in you not to melt as he wraps his arms around you and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“What is all this?” he asks, his hands rubbing your back.

“… Surprise?” Spencer laughs again, squeezing you a little tighter as you sway gently, side to side. You give up your pouting, burying your face in his chest, and wrap your arms around him. “I wanted to make you breakfast.”

“Oh?”

“In bed, " you clarify.

Spencer murmurs a soft "I see," and holds you close, as if this moment is all he needs. The chaos in the kitchen, the egg-stained pajamas, it all seems to disappear. You stay there, unmoving, savoring the simple warmth of being together until he finally pulls away, letting out an exaggerated sigh, as if giving up an internal battle.

“Thank you for the surprise, sweetheart,” Spencer smiles at you, cupping your face in his hands before giving you a soft kiss.

You frown, but another kiss is enough to smooth your expression. “I messed everything up.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And I woke you up,” you continue, frustrated by his indifference.

“So?” His long fingers find their way to the back of your head, gently tilting it until your eyes meet. His hands massage your scalp tenderly, making it hard to concentrate on your words.

“It’s—um,” you stammer, struggling to find your words. His gaze is gentle yet intense, and his soothing caresses make it difficult to focus. “It’s rare that you get to sleep in.”

Spencer kisses you again, more firmly this time. It makes you melt, like it always does. He sighs into your mouth, content, as you relax, your shoulders easing and your hands naturally finding their way around his neck. His arms move down to your lower back, pulling you even closer.

When you finally part, breathless, Spencer presses his nose against yours. He trails small kisses along the curve of your cheek, making his way down to your jaw. He lingers softly before murmuring into your ear:

“Thank you for the surprise, Angel.”

“You’re w-welcome,” you murmur, still dazed.

Seemingly satisfied, Spencer plants one last kiss on your temple before pulling you toward the bathroom. You blink, following him obediently, a little lost.

“Spencer?”

“Let’s start with a shower, okay?” He throws you a playful, teasing look over his shoulder, and you suddenly remember the egg still stuck in your hair. “Afterward, we can take breakfast in bed. Together.”

How could you possibly say no to that?

[bluemoonsunrise]

Demons and Savages

pairing: tsu’tey and human!avatar driver (fem presenting)

content warnings: graphic language, violence, alien vs human differences, unconventional grief, the RDA sucks, enemies to lovers. (also, i don’t like to capitalize sentences on tumbler :3)

word count: …idk :P

pov: 2nd person so you can add yourself in. for writing/plot purposes, your character is named eris ramsey. i’ll use the name sparingly but i can’t take myself seriously writing y/n— so please just work with me here. i promise it’ll be worth it. (i hope)

———🌌———

SUMMARY: earth was dying and your sister was, too, but cancer killed her faster than humans were killing earth. when she passed, she not only left behind an empty apartment full of memories but a billion dollar avatar without a driver. in a desperate attempt to not waste that money, the program she had spent the last five years preparing to join recruited you— her twin. of course, you agreed. there was nothing left on earth for you. there was nothing left on earth for anyone— that’s why people like your sister were sent off to pandora.

when your sister had spoken of pandora, it seemed like a dream.

the RDA promised it would be like a safari adventure.

truth was that pandora is beautiful. beautiful and unlike anything else across the whole of the universe. it is breathtaking— and that’s because what chases you through the forest hunts with the intent to kill; so you best run like hell even if your lungs are on fire. beasts and monsters of all kinds lurk out of sight waiting for the right moment to kill you dead— but none are as dangerous as him.

the blue shadow with the bow.

chapter one

— assholes and arrows —

it was hard to imagine that you were 4.37 light years away from earth.

what the hell even was 4.37 light years? obviously, you knew you couldn’t throw a rock and hit earth, but it was still mind boggling that it took long enough that they had frozen you whole so that you wouldn’t die in the amount of time it took you to get to where you were going. had your sister known just how far away she would’ve been had it been her in that cryo-capsule?

of course, she did.

she was the scientist who knew how far a light year was.

she was the scientist that had devoted the last years of her life to the avatar program without knowing it.

god was cruel— but people were even crueler.

at your sisters funeral, you had not expected two men-in-black characters to approach you. you had expected to leave the service with your sisters ashes in an urn but not that and a brochure of pandora and the program on it.

the program that now needed you to pick up where she left off.

were you supposed to say no? it was too late for that now. you were 4.37 light years from home. the only thing you could do was get off the aircraft and try your best to be even a teaspoon as smart as your sister.

as soon as you stepped out of the aircraft, you were a fish out of water. soldiers in massive metal suits walked the runways carrying giant guns. AMP suits, as they were called. machines the size of buildings were shot with arrows and needed repairs. the RDA extraction facility — lovingly nicknamed hell’s gate — was brutalist. the massive colony was an eyesore, churning out dark gray smoke into the pretty blue sky.

surely, the men in charge would happily rot this place into nothing, too.

it took three days to figure out your way around. around the colony. around the avatar labs. around the social hierarchy that the people living here had factioned themselves into.

it took three days to feel comfortable. to feel comfortable in your link-pod. in your avatar body. in your crew consisting of one grumpy, cigarette-dependent scientist, a goody-two shoes scholar, and an paralyzed man with a big mouth.

once grace augustine stopped bitching about how she got stuck with two dead scientist’s twins, things started to seem alright— because if there was any relief in hell’s gate, it was jake sully.

jake was the universes way of apologizing to you for all the shit you had to go through to get where you were. native language exposure, protocol training, avatar study, and a program explanation all in one month before they stuck you in a box and express shipped you to the blue moon.

it had wrecked your brain. all the studying and the work and the cramming wrecked your brain entirely. you felt like mush after they had unfroze you because you felt like mush when they had frozen you.

at least you got training, though. poor jake was picked up a week before the ship left.

the only training jake had was military. he was a marine. despite being wheelchair bound now, you his tactical skill was of value when in his avatar. he was the happiest out of the whole crew to have been gifted one of those big blue bodies. his legs worked again.

jake opened up briefly about how he got injured during his deployment years back and hadn’t done much since. in his avatar, jake could never stay still. in his real body, it was still hard to keep still. while jake could do poppa-wheelies and drift around hallway corners in his wheelchair, fire a gun with alarming accuracy, and had the mental fortitude of a nuclear war bunker— he was going into this thing virtually blind and deaf.

because poor jake had lost his twin, too.

tommy had been shot.

bang.

gone just like that. days before his big trip, too. wrong place at the wrong time is what jake had said. all tommy’s life’s work was gone just as fast as your sisters was— even though cancer killed her slowly.

in the end, it didn’t matter.

all it takes is one second to die.

all it takes is one second to make the biggest damn mistake of your life and almost get eaten alive by a leathery, nightmare-inducing, panther-looking thing on your first ground excursion.

grace had prepared you for taking samples. she taught you how to use the log device and the tablets. she went over how to input data and file in her research. what she hadn’t prepared you for was the off chance that a monster larger than a car leapt out from the bushes and chose you as it’s afternoon snack.

and that off chance chose you today like god had chosen mary.

“oh shit! oh fuck!” you gasped as you ran as fast as your feet could carry you.

it was not very fast.

avatar bodies were a work of scientific genius— but no one cared to think about how much training the body would need to be able to perform well.

a shrieking roar told you that the monster was still behind you.

that and it’s thundering paws hitting the ground as it chased after you.

this was karma.

it was karma for enjoying animal planet reruns on the shit-box tv in your apartment. you would sit on your couch with a bowl of over-done popcorn drenched in salty butter in your lap while you watched lions chase gazelles.

at least the gazelles were fast.

why the fuck weren’t you fast!

your throat burned alongside your lungs. you couldn’t breathe. your vision tunneled. your legs ached. you could hear your heart in your ears. sweat poured out of you like bullets.

“run!” grace had shouted.

jake had unloaded a whole clip firing at the panther-like beast— but the damn thing had dodged and ducked behind trees.

that’s why it chased you.

because it had seen you cowering behind a tree.

one stupid mistake.

one stupid second.

claws swiped at your backpack and it sent you toppling over. teeth dug into the pack and with one violent shake, you flew up into the air.

you hit the ground hard. all the air gasped out of you. your ears rang. but you had time. the beast tore your pack to shred and you didn’t stick around to see it realize that backpack à la carte wasn’t tasty.

“oh jesus!”

swinging your arms like a mad man, you steadied yourself at the cliffside. a raging, rushing waterfall hammered into a river below. far below.

a feral snarl sent you whipping around.

backpack was not tasty, it seemed.

the pandoran-panther leapt into a sprint.

and you leapt off the cliff.

the water below felt like a wall. croosh! bubbling, swirling rapids rushed around you. it clogged your nose and burned. you struggled to kick your feet in the current.

swimming was a luxury on earth. what water was clean enough and who had money to go to a pool? only the ultra-rich liked pools. poor people liked old tv specials like animal planet.

instinct and the sway of the current helped you surface. you gasped like a baby taking their first breath. coughing out the water in your mouth, you fought hard to stay above the water. with your arms extended, you caught hold of rocks. you used all the strength your avatar body had and you hauled yourself up onto the rock.

all you could do was breathe.

in and out. fast and deep. over and over again. in and out. in and out. all that mattered was air even when the beast above snarled and screeched at you from the cliffside.

“fuck…you…” you panted.

while you could’ve passed out from exhaustion there, you couldn’t. you forced yourself onto your feet and leapt from the rock to the riverbed. you fell face-first into the mud. it didn’t matter.

nothing mattered but staying alive.

if the avatar died, you’d be shipped to an RDA labor prison to pay back the billion dollars it costed as best you could before you died.

keep moving, you told yourself. if you moved, you lived. movement is life. an actor named brad pitt had said that in an old zombie movie your dad had once showed you.

movement is life.

that became your mantra.

it was funny. running through the forest for you life, it was just funny that with all the money the RDA pumped into mining and space travel, no one could equip the avatar drivers with GPSs?

irony.

irony and karma.

the fear didn’t kick back into you and rattle your bones until the sun began to set. you tried to find shelter as fast as you could. all you had on you was a knife and a flashlight at your hip. the panther had taken your backpack and tore through it like it was clocked into their shift working for the TSA.

the TSA used to at least give your bag back to you.

you’d be getting no such treatment because you had no such luck in a place like this.

a place like pandora.

it was gorgeous. during the day, pandora was utterly jaw-dropping. at night— you didn’t want to know.

whether it was beautiful or not, it wouldn’t matter. it was horrifying. it nearly brought tears to your eyes as you stumbled through the forest with only your flashlight to guide you.

twigs snapped in every direction. a pack of cackling creatures ran through midnight brush. insects whirred and buzzed. massive leafs rustled in the breeze.

every noise made you jump.

every noise made you grip your knife tighter.

hurrying through the dark, you made more noise than you realized. ragged breaths. rustling clothes. loud footsteps. you may as well have been calling out for any dangerous creature to come and eat you whole.

when you exhausted yourself, you finally stopped.

in a clearing between massive trees, you fought to catch your breath. while standing in the open may have been stupid, at least you could see what sprung out at you first. whether or not you could fight it off was something you would deal with if it happened. for now, you breathed.

you clicked off your flashlight and you breathed.

lowering to a crouch to rest, you kept quiet and you kept vigilant. your breath soon returned. you knew to keep calm. while the anxiety you felt now was primal, it was still just anxiety. with each breath, you focused your mind.

you needed a plan.

you couldn’t keep running in the dark. you had to find somewhere to hide until morning. a cave. up in the trees. somewhere. somewhere away from danger.

the forest was glowing.

it was only once your heart had calmed and air actually got the chance to reach your brain that you realized the forest around you was glowing.

you felt your tail flick as amazement bubbled up inside you. you turned to look at it. you forgot you that the spindly blue thing. it fascinated you almost as much as your braid did.

at its core, this whole thing amazed you.

standing in an avatar body of a navi in the bioluminescent forest of pandora was amazing. while part of you had felt guilt leaving earth— pandora was a wonder you would choose again and again.

you got to your feet and admired the way the grass lit up as you took small steps. you smiled as glowing bugs buzzed by. the more you looked around, the more their was to see. truly. with your flashlight off, the forest lit itself. wonders of all kinds became visible.

a soft laugh escaped you as something white floated around your head. it reminded you of a jellyfish. a small, luminescent jellyfish. you spun as it circled you. your tail flicked and your ears perked as the fascinating little thing seemed to interact with you.

all the fear you felt was gone— but unbeknownst to you, you were in the most danger of your life.

in the tree above you, an arrow was begging to fly free from his bow and strike you through the chest.

as the small jellyfish creature landed in your hand, the sun would’ve felt ashamed to not be as bright as your smile if it were up.

the moment lasted only a few seconds. the floating creature hovered over your hand only for a fleeting moment before it moved up and up and up into the air.

you followed it with your eyes.

your little jellyfish friend was not the only thing you saw.

you could see his gleaming, glaring yellow eyes.

you could see the massive silhouette of his body.

you could see his bow that he held half-drawn.

all the shock you felt seeing his blue shadow in the night was nothing compared to the pack of wolf-like monsters that sprang from the dark and attacked.

teeth and claws ripped at your legs. taking out your ankles first, the pack of monsters knew how to hunt. when you fell, one of the large ones leapt at you. your hands shot out to catch the ugly mutt and protect yourself anyway that you could.

an arrow shot through its head and blood splattered across your face.

a gasp escaped you as the blue shadow jumped from the tree above and sprang into action. arrows flew as fast as bullets. one. two. three dead before you could even fumble for your knife.

a knife was nothing compared to him.

he alone with his teeth bared scared off the pack of horrifying wolves.

you could hardly breathe.

in utter silence, you watched as the Navi male retrieved his arrows. he was mumbling to himself. soft hisses escaped him as he pulled each arrow free from the kills he had made.

“thank you…” you whispered. tried to. you could hardly hear your own voice.

the beads in his hair clicked as he moved. he did not look at you. he didn’t have to. the scowl on his face sent a shiver of fear racing down your spine.

like a newborn deer, you tried to stand. the pain in your legs made you wince. again, you tried to get up but the pain only worsened.

a hiss sent you rigid.

you didn’t have to look up at him. he was crouched beside you with no taste for personal space. he grabbed your legs and tore the fabric around your knees off. you opened your mouth to shout at him but his scowl shut you up.

if he was going to kill you, he would’ve.

if he was going to hurt you, he would’ve.

he was checking your injuries.

“it’s bad, huh?” you asked in a whisper, “it’s really bad, isn’t it?”

he said noting.

all he did was prod at the wounds with his large, calloused finger.

“hey!” you kicked him lightly. “that hurts!”

he grabbed you by the bend of your knee and shoved. your head hit the ground hard as you fell back. tears wet your eyes on reflex. a soft groan escaped you. anger boiled in your blood. you pushed yourself up on your elbows intent on cursing him out.

you stopped as he wrapped your wounds in the fabric he ripped off your pants.

you grit your teeth and kept quiet. it hurt like a bitch. the rough, gritty fabric was unkind to your wounds. despite his never-ending scowl, he was gentle.

“thank you…” you whispered for the second time. this time he heard you.

“do not thank.” he hissed, his voice a deep, sharp slash in the space between you. “you should not thank for this. this is not good. this is sad.”

“i— i’m sorry?” you offered, just wanting him to know that you appreciated his kindness.

he only scowled at you.

when he stood, panic rushed through you. before your mind to race to any awful thoughts about how he may abandon you now, he extended his hands.

you hesitated.

he huffed out of his nose and curled his lip.

you reached for him instantly.

“ah— fuck…” you muttered as you stood. it was an awful stinging pain. it shot up your legs as you put your weight on them.

“very painful?”

you looked up at him as he placed his hand on your waist to support some of your weight.

tall.

so, so tall. a head and a half taller than you. it almost had you tongue tied. all you could do was nod. for a stupid, dumbfounded moment, you nodded like a idiot.

by the look in his eyes, he seemed to think you were exactly that.

the male grumbled. under his breath, he seemed to curse. your brows drew together as he turned around and crouched down. you stood still. your ears pinned back and you tilted your head. his tail began to flick. sharp and fast.

you had a cat once.

cats flicked their tails like that when they grew angry.

he reached back, grabbed your arm, and gave it a harsh tug. a gasp escaped you as you bumped into his back. the realization dawned on you when he brought your hand over his shoulder to his chest.

he would carry you.

carefully, you hooked your arms around him. with a fluidity that stunned you, he rose to his feet. you weighed nothing to him. even as a massive navi avatar yourself, you weighed nothing. his hands curled around your thighs and he hoisted you up higher on his back. you clung close and kept your head tucked toward his shoulder to try and keep his arrows from smacking you in the face.

“thank you— sorry.” you cringed. “sorry. not thank you. im sorry.”

for a moment it was silent as he walked.

“you are welcome.”

something tickled your belly at his response.

your heart was sprinting without you having to run from his acknowledgment alone. your head spun as it tried to keep up with all that had happened. he had leapt from the trees and saved you with no hesitation. he had tended to your wounds. he carried you to safety.

you couldn’t pull your eyes off his face.

his features were sharp. he had a sharp jaw. he had sharp ears. his flat nose was pointed down at the end, still making it sharp. his eyes were sharp. his lips. his teeth. his voice.

everything.

he was like a dagger.

heat rose to your face as he turned his head to meet your gaze. for the first time, he did not scowl. not at first. for a moment too fleeting, he was cat-like. he seemed to look at you just as closely as you looked at him. his pupils dilated and his ears perked— but his face soon became a disgruntled scowl as you stared at him too long and he jostled you as a warning.

you looked away. “what is your name?”

“tsu’tey,” he said after a moment of debating whether or not to answer.

“tsu’tey.” you repeated. it was fun to say. it made you smile. “my name is eris.”

“okay.”

his blunt, simple reply made you laugh. his ears pinned at the sound and he turned his head to look at you. he seemed bewildered by the fact that you laughed. embarrassment made your ears ring.

“uh…so…how old are you?” you asked, trying to keep the awkward tension at bay.

“cannot answer. don’t know how to say it like you.” he said with a small shake of his head.

you bit your lip. you were going to humiliate yourself but you may as well try.

“age?” you asked in navi.

tsu’tey looked back at you. a smile curled across his lips that disarmed you entirely. “i am twenty-five.”

“twenty-five? that’s cool. i— i’m also that. twenty-five, too. we’re the same age. that’s so…cool.” you stammered, at a loss for coherent words.

his smile dropped entirely and he shifted you on his back.

you had never wanted to die more.

“you must be getting ill from their claws. fever is common. we must get to the tsahik quickly.” tsu’tey said with a single nod of his head.

of course, yes.

your state of bumbling idiocy came from wounds— not that fact that a giant blue man had saved you and now carried you to safety on his back. it was a fever that made you hot, not the way his fingers felt around your thighs or the way his skin felt like velvet under your fingertips.

maybe you were having a stroke, too.

burning toast?

no, that was just the earthy, spicy scent of him that made your mouth water.

it wasn’t until he put you down that you had any idea of where you were. there was only one place you could be. you had read about it in the prep books that had once belonged to your sister.

the tree was larger than life.

hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of feet in the air, home tree towered the way colossus of rhodes could’ve only dreamed to.

you hissed under your breath as the weight on your wounds sent sharp pain through your legs. as you looked up at him, you realized there had been softness to his sharp features this whole time.

that softness was gone.

a startled yelp escaped you as he grabbed you by the end of your braid and pushed you forward.

“ow! hey!”

his voice was lethal. “walk, demon.”

with him guiding your every move, you walked. your face burned as you entered home tree. hundreds of navi turned and gasped. they chirped, calling out to inform others there was an intruder in their home. soon, the inhabitants were all too close trying to catch a glimpse of you.

tsu’tey hissed as hands stuck out to touch you. he barked orders in navi that were lost to your ears. so much was. hundreds of voices spoke at once. the chattering was deafening— and so was the sound of your racing heart as tsu’tey brought you in front of the chief.

your mind blanked on the navi title he held — as it had blanked on every word — but you knew who the male decorated in feathers and beads was. his large bow was hooked around his back. his old, sunken face was a masterpiece of stoicism.

beside him with her tail flicking was none other than the tsahik you were here to see.

tsu’tey let you go but he did not go far. not far at all. his hand curled around the hilt of his knife. if the order was given to kill you— it would be him who snuffed the life from your lungs.

you felt like you had been dropped into the middle of the ocean. you were fighting to stay steady. the pain in your legs had you wobbling. the conversation you found yourself in the middle of was lost to you ears. you could only pick out a few words.

kill her?

a question from the chief.

no.

an answer from tsu’tey.

eywa has given a sign.

your head snapped as those words left his lips. you looked up at him, your ears perking. as he met your eyes, his ears pinned back.

you understood. how much he didn’t know, but you understood. you knew more than he imagined you could’ve.

“you are injured.”

you turned your head as the tsahik approached you.

with a slow nod, you signed ‘i see you.’

a collective gasp was one that even tsu’tey shared in.

the tsahik’s tail swayed and she looked back at the chief. he had an expression you found hard to read. without another word, the tsahik grabbed your arm and guided you along. you swallowed your whimpers as you kept up with her long stride.

these people and their grabbing…

you glanced back over your shoulder to see tsu’tey let go of his knife and kneel before his chief.

“sit.” the tsahik demanded as you entered her hut.

slowly, you sat down on one of the mats. the hut was full of herbs, oils, and hanging flowers. a small fire burned in the center of the room. around it, mats lay in a circle. a small wooden table is where she stopped. she gathered medicines and supplies.

“what attacked you?” the tsahik asked.

“uh…i— i’m not sure.” you said with a shake of your head.

“describe.”

you swallowed thickly. closing your eyes, you tried to conjure any glimpse you could remember. “they…they were like dogs. six legs. black teeth. growling and cackling like hyenas. there was a pack of them.”

how the hell would she know what a dog was let alone a hyena?

idiot.

“nantang,” the tsahik said as she turned. she kneeled in front of you and seemed to smile with her ears, as if she found this amusing. “sky people like you named them viperwolves.”

“nantang…” you repeated softly. you’d surely remember that word.

“how did tsu’tey find you?” the tsahik asked as she unwrapped the makeshift bandages from your legs.

you grit your teeth as the air stung your wounds. you tried to sit still. “i was with my group. the other avatar drivers? we were out in the forest doing research with dr. augustine. grace. do you know her?”

the tsahik nodded once. she stuck her fingers into a jar of greasy ointment and began to lather it on your wounds. a soft grunt escaped you at the sting.

“i got separated,” you said through your teeth. you focused on telling your story. it distracted you from the pain. “there was this huge fucking thing that attacked. massive. all black. had these face-flap things that look like this.”

you tried your best to mimic what it had looked like with your hands and the tsahik stared at you with wide eyes.

you dropped your hands and fought the urge to strangle yourself as embarrassment churned in your gut.

“palulukan.” the tsahik said. she wrapped your legs in leafs and tied them with long grass-line twine. “i do not know what your people have called it, but it is very dangerous.”

“yeah,” you said with a small nod. “palulu…yeah, it was that thing. it chased me. i had to jump off a waterfall and i got lost. he found me in the forest playing with um…”

“it was small,” you raised your hands to show the size of the tiny thing. you traced your palm. “it could fit here. so small. it was white. it looked…like a jellyfish.”

the tsahik stopped.

she looked at you.

with blown pupils, she looked at you.

“atokirina…” she murmured.

your brows furrowed. “ato-what-now?”

the tsahik stood suddenly. she placed her hand on your head before she left her hut. you sat in silence. your ears pinned back and your tail swayed across the woven mat.

had she just patted your head?

maybe you weren’t as doomed as you thought you were.

alone in the warm hunt, staying awake began to get hard. it smelled like heavenly incense. the stinging in your wounds disappeared into a cool clam. the fire warmed what the icy river and night air had chilled.

if it weren’t for the urgency to know this body would be safe and the hunger that rumbled in your belly, you had every intention of falling asleep. not only was the body tired but you were tired.

how you could you not be with all that had happened?

not just today.

with everything.

her face was like a bruise on your soul that you hated to see even in your mind. looking at your own face in the mirror was just as hard because it looked like hers.

would your sister have been able to survive the palulukan? would she have had the guts to jump off the cliff? how the hell had you even had the guts to do that? on earth, you worked a shit job servicing food at a drive-and-dine and spent your nights watching old tv cartoons. where the hell had all your courage come from?

looking back; though, you’d always had some courage.

your sister had none.

and she would’ve been eaten alive.

guilt burned in your stomach as that thought resonated in your mind. you pushed it away as best you could. you pushed it all away. none of it mattered now. nothing about earth and your old life mattered. there was only here and now.

just as your eyes drooped shut, the beaded curtain pulled apart. you turned your head to find not only the tsahik but tsu’tey. him and his awful scowl.

“get up, demon. you come with me. it is decided.” tsu’tey said gruffly. he reached for your arm.

“what?” you asked, shaking your head.

“eywa has given us a sign, dreamwalker.” the tsahik said as she crouched to your level. she pulled a thorn from her chest piece and stuck your arm with it. she licked off the blood and smiled. “you are to stay here where we can keep our eyes on you.”

you rubbed at the small hurt on your arm. looking between the two of them, all you could do was nod. you wouldn’t pass up their hospitality. especially not if you knew the body would be safe here.

“tsu’tey himself saw the atokirina bless you. you are his student now. he shall teach you our ways.” the tsahik said. “it is decided.”

you looked up at him.

he scowled at the fire.

how fun…

“alright,” you said as you tried to heave yourself up. your body weighed a thousand pounds and your legs ached still, but you could move a bit easier. “it is decided then…”

tsu’tey shot the tsahik an annoyed expression but she only waved her hand. he huffed under his breath and grabbed you by the arm. he tugged you out of the hut.

“hey, man, c’mon!” you said, pulling your arm from his grasp. you glared up at him. “stop pulling me around. i can walk just fine.”

he only stared down at you. his tail swayed behind him and his ears perked. you could’ve sworn that you saw his lip curl into a smirk.

he turned and walked off.

fast.

“hey!”

you nearly had to jog to keep up with him. when you caught up to his side, he was smirking. this was a punishment. what an asshole!

“you are slow.” tsu’tey said without looking at you. his voice was always so sharp. his accent was thick and it made your ears tingle. “you are weak.”

“climb.” he said, flicking his head towards the center column of home tree. a spiraling, colossal root that acted as a staircase.

you grit your teeth. you hated heights but you hated that smug look on his face even more. you began to climb. he followed behind you. he watched you like a hawk. while his cold, challenging demeanor was as rough as sandpaper— his attentiveness was so sweet it could’ve rot away all your teeth.

he grasped your waist as you slipped. steading you on your feet, he kept you in place. you looked back at him. his hairless browns seemed to raise. it was like he was saying, ‘careful, demon.’

you brushed off his hand and continued on. you had no idea how far he was expecting you to go. you refused to look down. your breath was jagged in your throat and you had never felt more tired. just as your muscles couldn’t take anymore, he tugged your arm. together, you walked along a thick branch as wide as a runway. you followed him into a hanging hut.

it was small. three baskets by one wall. a woven mat across the floor. a bed of furs. small holes in the ceiling to let strands of light in. it was cozy. it smelled of him. you liked it.

“remove those clothes.” he said as he crouched over one of the baskets. he dug through it.

you eyes widened. “excuse me?”

he looked back at you. “remove. the. clothes.” he said again. this time, as if your were an idiot.

when he stood, he held a garment made of beads and a long loincloth similar to his own. standing before him now, you realized just how much of him you could see.

he was broad. impeccably so. his long limbs were slim and his frame was slender but he had muscle. you knew he did. you felt it as he grasped you and carried you through the forest.

bands decorated his arms. a woven leather corset was snug around his ribs. it probably was meant for something tactical but to you it looked like a corset. his waist was small. his legs were long and powerful. around his neck was a collar-like necklace made of hundreds of beads.

his blue skin held the most interesting stripes. his tail was long. a lot longer than yours. it flicked impatiently. his hair was braided back, except for a few pieces with red breads hung by his face. the long braid of his queue flowed down his back. in the dim light of his hut, his freckles glowed.

“now, demon.” he demanded again, throwing the garments at you.

“turn around.” you said, jutting your chin at him.

he narrowed his eyes at you and shook his head. “what?”

“turn.” you said, gesturing the action with your finger.

he scoffed.

“have you no sense of privacy?” you asked with a scowl that seemed to amuse him.

“privacy. human word. meaningless to me.” tsu’tey spat as he passed by you. he made sure to hit you with his shoulder as he exited his hut.

“savage…” you muttered under your breath.

as you undressed yourself, you could hear him pacing outside. he must be paranoid. did he think you would stab him in the back if he turned? wouldn’t you have done that in the forest?

or maybe privacy really wasn’t a thing to him— to any of the navi. less so than humans, at the very least. they did only cover their gentiles with loincloths and breasts with beaded tops. they showed far more skin than the average human did.

dressed in such a thing now, you felt entirely out of your comfort zone. the string of the loincloth rode up your ass. you had to adjust it for it to feel comfortable. the beaded top you wore hid your perky blue nipples, but not much else. while navi breasts were small, your chest wasn’t flat. the human dna used to create the avatar gave the body extra features.

five fingers. hairy eyebrows. the queues extending out from the nape of the neck and not the top of the head. the male avatars had more muscle. they were bulkier than navi-born males. the female avatars were aerodynamic and slim like navi-born females, but their chests weren’t as flat. compared to your real body, the boobs on your avatar were nothing. but the boobs compared to the populaces normal, it was definitely something more.

as you exited his hut, tsu’tey turned. the cold, harsh scowl he wore faltered. you felt something warm tingle in your stomach as his eyes mapped the whole of you. his pupils dilated and his ears perked up as his eyes landed on your chest.

you swatted at him— or tried to.

he caught your wrist and tugged you along. you did not protest. protesting with him did you no good. that was something you learned quick.

“tomorrow, i teach you how to ride.” tsu’tey said as he led you back down the main column of home tree.

going down was much scarier than going up. you gripped his hand and stared at the back of his head the whole time. while he was tense, he did not pull his hand from yours.

“ride what?” you dared to ask. your heart was in your throat.

“pa’li.” tsu’tey said. he glanced over his shoulder. “you call them…horse.”

a horse? that should be easy enough. you used to watch old western specials as a kid. nothing too terrifying about a horse, right?

instead of walking back down to the ground level, you entered a large hollow section of the tree. hundreds of navi gathered. sitting down all together, you realized they were eating.

you could’ve cried. thank you, lord! your stomach felt hollow with hunger for the last hour.

“sit.” tsu’tey said, pushing at your shoulder.

you sat. the navi beside you seemed to shy away. you looked up at tsu’tey but he was gone. he was off to the side gathering food off a long wooden table. when he returned, he handed you the leaf piled with meats, berries and nuts without a word.

you ate in silence across from him. he sat with the tsahik and the chief— the olo’eyktan. you remembered the word. beside them, a strikingly beautiful navi woman. she ate without lifting her gaze.

as her ears pinned back, you knew she could feel you staring. you were quick to look down at your food.

it tasted better than anything you ever had before and you ate with haste. the pain in your stomach ceased and you ate your fill. it was rude not to clean your plate. you made sure to eat every last bite.

when you finished, you looked up to see tsu’tey watching. your ears perked as he flicked his head. you followed his gaze to the long table full of food. it took you a second but you realized he was asking you if you were still hungry.

meeting his gaze, you shook your head no.

he nodded once.

the clan ate all together— and they slept at the same time, too. filing up through the main column, people separated into their designated beds. hundreds of hanging hammocks and nests filled the space between the internal branches. single navi slept alone. pairs slept with each other. families shared nest-like hammocks.

“come,” tsu’tey said, guiding you onward.

as you followed him, you couldn’t help but feel a pair of eyes deadlocked onto the back of your head. looking over your shoulder, you saw her again. the female navi. she climbed down into her own hanging hut and disappeared. when she was gone, that’s when you remembered tsu’tey was an impatient jackass who would yank your arm if you didn’t pay attention.

he nearly did but you reacted just in time.

“what’s her name?” you asked. you flicked your head in the direction of her but.

tsu’tey followed your gaze. his shoulders stiffened and his lips twitched. not a smile. a frown. “that is neytiri. daughter of olo’eyktan and tsahik.”

“this is yours.” he said with a lazy point towards a hanging hammock. it was nearby his hut. a branch below. “you sleep now. tomorrow is going to be long.”

“aye-aye, captain.” you said with a salute.

tsu’tey narrowed his eyes as a puzzled expression took over his face. you swallowed hard. slowly, you signed to him.

‘i see you’.

he only huffed out a small goodbye. you watched as he climbed his way to his own hut. he did not look back at you. he disappeared inside and the flap shut.

you sighed and carefully slipped your way into your hammock. it was comfier than you thought it would be. warmer, too. the warm air and soft breeze made it easy to feel drowsy as you laid down. the gentle sway of the hammock made your eyes heavy.

it felt like you had fallen asleep. black muddled behind your eyelids before bright, tunneling white.

all you could see was white.

there was a loud, incessant ringing in your ears.

“c’mon, kid, wake up.”

the white blinding light began to morph into shapes. into colors. into people. a ginger haired scientist. she moved her flashlight in and out of your face, patting your cheek.

“hey,” grace said, her voice coming in clear. “snap out of it.”

sense rushed back into your brain as she snapped her fingers beside your ear. your eyes widened and a gasped cleaved it’s way out of your chest. the whirr of the machine purred in your ear. the bright lights of the room were harsh after the gentle luminance of the pandoran forest.

“are you okay?” grace asked, pushing your hair behind your ears. it was the kindest she’d ever been. “how are you feeling? is the avatar safe?”

“i— i am. i’m good…” you said. your voice was hardly a whisper. your breath came hard and fast. even then, a smile curled onto your lips. “doc, you’re gonna do backflips when you find out where i am.”

[thanks for reading :3 this is a lot of fun to write and i have a lot planned <3 tsu’tey is an underappreciated king and a slow burn romance fic is exactly what the world needs i fear :) see ya next chapter! —moony]

next chapter >

[putrid-sex-machine]

KiNKTOBER DAY 28 ❀ LEON

PROMPT: fucking machine, sex pollen & dub-con

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut (obv), dub-con (typical sex pollen stuff), sex pollen, monster fucking, plant monster, leon is a bottom idk what to tell u

A/N: what can i say, i love torturing leon kennedy<3. I'll be honest, the first version got away from me a little... This is how the fic was originally planned to go, i'm not sure how i got so side tracked lol. anyways, hope you enjoy!! (^_^) art is by @citrine-elephant (lmk if u dont want me using ur art here)

check out the alternative version of this fic here

this fic has nsft content. you have been warned.

Leon's only consolation was that he didn't do this to himself. Not this time at least. He was pushed into this. Tackled, really, by a B.O.W. with more limbs than he'd care to count. Or vines he supposes.

And to think things were going smoothly.

He'd been tasked with the investigation of what was rumored to be a Neo-Umbrella lab, and Leon had been too quick to assume safety, assume the place was empty as it seemed. It was open, empty, and the electricity miraculously still worked – practically a cakewalk. Aside from the absurd amount of plant growth that is.

Thinking this would be easy, though, turned out to be his first mistake.

Now he finds himself strapped into what (uncomfortably enough) seems to be a birthing chair, his legs forceably pulled apart to expose him. He'd be more bothered had he not been drunk off his ass on whatever unknown pollen-like substance fills the strange glass capsule hes now trapped in. Worse yet is his body's response to it all. He's hard, unbearably so. He'd find it humorous if the situation weren't so humiliating. He hasn't had a proper hard on in ages, (he can thank whiskey for that) yet this of all things has managed to do it for him. Pathetic.

A robotic female voice rings out, "Stage One completed. Stand clear of the Containment Area and prepare for Stage Two."

Whatever that means, Leon has no interest in staying to find out. He tries to jerk his arms free of the metal cuffs holding him, but its so hard to think, so hard to move, restraints aside. His body feels heavy and hot, betraying his mind and refusing to obey him. Still, Leon refuses to give in. He continues struggling against his binds, searching for some loose piece, something he can take advantage of. Nothing

"Stage Two activated," says the uncannily monotone voice. As if on cue (which, yeah, it probably is) a loud beep fills the capsule, followed by another wave of the intoxicating pollen. Leon hisses, steadying himself. He's already been exposed to the gas -- or whatever this is, he doesn't need anymore. He draws in several fast breaths, rapidly as he can. He then takes as deep a breath as he can manage, starting from his diaphragm to fill his stomach before letting it expand in his chest. He holds it, starting a mental count. He's trained with holding his breath for extended periods before, a useful skill to have in this line of work, but holding your breath on land is a lot harder than underwater. Without the diving reflex to slow his heartbeat plus his lack of preparation time, Leon estimates he has only about 3 minutes left.

But the machine seemingly had other ideas. Two large metal clamps slam down on his ribs, forcing the breath out of him and securing him further to the chair. He's given no choice but to inhale, coughing and sputtering as he fights to take a lungful of air with his chest unable to fully expand.

"Stage Two completed. Beginning Stage Three," Leon distantly hears, suddenly too dizzy to think. All he can focus on is the intoxicating sweetness of the pollen filling his nose, on how painfully hard hes become, on how restricting and hot his clothes are. As if on command, cool metal of the machine dips down to his stomach, running a blade along the cloth and graciously freeing his erection. He groans, hips instinctively tilting upwards as far as Leon can manage, desperate for friction.

Again, the machine seemingly hears his internal pleas, a small whirl ringing out before he's met with an incredible vibrating warmth around his cock, the sensation alone almost enough to make him cum.

"O-oh fuck--" Leon whines, unable to stop himself. His hips jerk up, gasping as he inhales more of that delicious pollen.

There's another whirl, this time followed by a slick, cold prodding sensation against his ass. He whines, allowing his legs to be spread even further by the machine as the artificial cock slides in. When it begins to vibrate Leon knows hes done for, crying out as he cums, barely registering the high-tech flesh-light sucking every last drop up. Even then it doesn't stop, the dildo continuing to pound into him lazily as it's vibrations intensify. It doesn't stop when he cums again either, it doesn't stop when he's crying, screaming and thrashing against his restraints, brows pulled taught as he whines uselessly in over stimulation. His hips continue to jerk up in time with the flesh-light, body betraying him as he fights to escape the overwhelming pleasure.

Every time he thinks he's finished, that he can't possibly cum again he does, that wonderful pollen filling his lungs and hardening his cock with ease. Gradually Leon finds himself drifting off, having lost track of how many orgasms he's had forced out of him, of how long he's been here. He's stopped caring too. He has no thoughts anymore. No perception of time. No worries. Getting out of here doesn't seem important anymore. This is good. This is right. Leon was made for this.

This is his new home.

[eywaseclipse]

The Songs of Freedom Chapter 1: Sätarep

Characters: Sarentu OC named Kirani, Teylan, Nor, Ri’nela, Alma, Mercer, So’lek and eventually Eetu 

Synopsis: You’re one of the Sarentu children abducted from your clan, having been put through the RDA’s brainwashing program called TAP Con-1 you find yourself waking up from a deep sleep you don’t remember taking as a resistance member storms the headquarters saving you all. 

Warnings: None; just angst, ptsd mentions of past abuse, and childhood trauma 

Word Count: 1k

Sätarep is na’vi for rescue

The distant humming of machinery slowly invades your eardrums, with its unfamiliar sound arousing you from this deep slumber you’ve apparently been in. Your lashes begin to flutter as if coming out of a deep lucid dream, feeling your fingers twitch gently coming back to life. The echoes of thrumming technology somehow begin to get clearer and clearer opening your eyes to harsh fluorescent lighting. Your limbs feel stiff and unmoving, as your feeble attempt to rise up is met with an awkward thud. You try once more and look around you as your eyes struggle to adjust to your surroundings. Looking to your left you see a confused Ri’nela almost mirroring all of your own actions. 

Your heart begins to pick up speed, fueling the confusion with an uneasy sense of dread. “W-what happened?” You hear a soft whimper from Teylan, as you whip your head to the sound of his voice. You rub your eyes for good measure swinging your long limbs out of what seems to be a cryo chamber. “What?” You croak out. Your vocal chords strain themselves from lack of use, clearing your throat for good measure. “You made it.”

You look to see Teylan, Nor, and Ri’nela all slowly rise in disorientation out of their cryo beds looking to the source of the sound; Alma. “Oh… I’m so sorry…” You hear a tightness in her voice that sends an eery chill of doubt down your spine. “Alma what is this? What happened?” Ri’nela asks urgently.

You jump out of the cryo chamber capsule and run next to Teylan as the group forms out of defense like you used to do as children. “I….I’m so sorry…all of you.” Alma hesitates to speak. Nor’s expression slowly dissipates from the skepticism… to realization. “You did this to us?” He accuses harshly. 

All four of you exchange silent looks of horror, turning to Alma as she struggles to explain herself. “They made me. When the war started it was this or….” She trails off in an awkward stutter. “You betrayed us?” Nor steps closer to her, causing a cautious step back on her behalf. 

Your mind begins to spin out control in a state of shock like an ice bath being injected straight into your veins. “How long have we been in cryo sleep for Alma?” You ask reluctantly. You and Ri’nela exchange a worried look and turn back to Alma watching her close her eyes in shame and sigh.. “15 years..” Her words feel like a blow to your chest, with the air from your lungs completely seizing all at once. 15. 15 years of suspended animation? How was this possible?

“No no that can’t be possible we would’ve remembered!” Ri’nela pleas out. You can see the fear seeping into her eyes as she slowly comes to the realization that the mentor you looked up to as children would betray you this. “You don’t understand! Mercer ordered to have the rest of you killed, as the battle started.. I stowed you away to save your lives.. I never wanted this to happen.” She raises her hands frantically waving them as a metaphorical white flag. 

“Oh my god..” You whisper, grasping what she’s done, weighing like stones in your heart. “You evil bitch!” Nor launches himself at Alma, just as the red emergency alarms blare into the room loudly. All of you freeze in panic looking around the dark room now lit with an insidious red glow just as a loud explosion occurs. The sound of distant screaming and machine guns echos in the hallway getting closer and closer to you, “What’s going on!?” Teylan’s voice panics at the loud sounds. 

Your ears fill with the hissing from the many rounds of ammunition hearing the RDA soldiers fight this mystery intruder. “Go! Get out of here, now’s the chance-” Alma attempts to plea as Nor digs a sharp object into her abdomen. Before you can even process what he’s done a large figure rushes out of the corridors into the main room. A tall slender Na’vi decked out in military gear and war paint carries a large machine gun looking around the space slowly. All of you stand together stunned with terror and uncertainty watching Alma choke on her own blood falling with a loud thud. 

The slender Na’vi man speaks “You are Sarentu?” His voice booms with confidence watching you all with a stoic look on his face you can’t quite pinpoint. “Sarentu… No one has ever called us that.” You reply with a shaky voice. The way his lips curl up into a smile sends a shiver down your spine. “Come. You no longer have to live at the mercy of the sky demons.” He replies. He straps his gun behind his back stepping nonchalantly over a writhing Alma, and up to the group of you. “Stay back!” Nor points with his handcrafted weapon, but it doesn’t seem to bother this man in the slightest. 

“If you wish to live, follow me.” He nods his head in the direction of the emergency exit door to the far right. “How can we trust you? Who are you!” Ri’nela demands. The stranger stands tall and takes a sympathetic sigh, “I am So’lek, member of the Resistance against the sky people. Once Trr’ong, and a warrior of my clan. I thought the Sarentu were long extinct, but new intel has proven me wrong. Get your belongings and follow me.” He says with booming conviction.

The four of you all exchange looks, slowly thinking about the chances you’d even have alone in the facility, having just been woken up from a 15 year sleep you don’t remember taking. You swallow your pride and blooming fear, as Ri’nela speaks “Where are you taking us?” 

So’lek smiles back, “Resistance HQ, we are a movement made up of both Na’vi and human allies..” You observe the way he hesitantly states the last part of his sentence, as if reluctant to credit the humans of being considered credible allies. “We have no choice. We’d die here without Alma. Mercer will kill us all..” You state frantically. 

All of you begin to salvage whatever items you hold dear, which include a toothbrush, grey t shirts, and a bead you saved from when you a child that you assumed a family member gifted you. You scatter together awkwardly looking at the lack of possessions you all own after being completely stripped of your native identity your entire lives. A wave of guilt and doubt riddle your mind, thinking about how you’re about to leave behind, all you’ve ever known. 

“Let’s get of this hellhole once and for all!” Nor shouts. “This isn’t a good idea! How do we even know we can trust him! Mercer has given us everything we’ve ever needed!” Teylan begins to get hysteric. You see his eyes widen in clear fright as you follow So’lek to the emergency exit, “We have no choice Teylan! We belong in the forest! Pandora is our home!” You can’t help but yell in frustration. You all knew what this metal box has done to you. The house of horrors has done nothing but inflict physical and emotional trauma on the four of you. And it ends today.

“Come… Your new life awaits you.. all of you.” So’lek smiles. Just as you make way to follow So’lek out the emergency door you hear the thud of loud footsteps. “There they are! Get them!” Mercer’s voice echoes in your ears, as you all scream to escape. “Run!” So’lek shouts making sure one by one you step out the door as he releases rounds of bullets at the soldiers. 

The group of you narrowly clear out and awkwardly thud onto the lush grass of Pandora. Staring at ground, you slowly rise and take in your new surroundings. The distant memories of your life before TAP are all but a blur. Cloudy visions of a lullaby, a bonfire, swimming in a river, and eating delicious fruit feel like a dream. “Oh my god.” Nor whispers in wonder. 

Back when you were children anyone who spoke of the forest would be placed in solitary confinement as a punishment. You and Nor spent the most time there.. “We should go back! This was a mistake!” Teylan whimpers in fear. “No this is home. We belong here.” Ri’nela states. “Do it for Aha'ri.” You look to each other with sad eyes, tears brimming at the thought of your dead sister who lost her life to an attempt to escape all those years ago. In that moment, you knew you’d rather die than ever go back to this place again. “Follow me!” So’lek suddenly bursts through the doors and runs into you, watching him in horror as the sound of guns continue. You all take off into a sprint following him into the thick of the Pandora jungle, running into your newfound freedom.

Next Chapter

Taglist:

@justtweetie

[clone-anon-after-dark]

Healing

ARC Trooper Fives x Nymph Reader

Fives Lives AU with Prompt "Waking Up in a Dark Forest and Remembering Nothing"

Warnings: mention of Fives' death and the GAR's treatment of clones as disposable, mention of blaster wound, bed sharing, cuddling, hand holding, new relationship, some angst with hope

A/N: I have not been able to write much for months now, but wanted to make an effort for this prompt

Word Count: 1,330

Submitted as part of @pinahallowsevecloneparty

You moved through the forest with ease. It was midday and usually very quiet. Your clothing brushed against familiar tree bark as you climbed branches and quietly moved from limb to limb. You paused and silently watched as several officers dumped a carbonite capsule and at least a dozen broken ship parts. The war was over, supposedly at least. What was the new Empire doing just dumping all this in the middle of Endor? And was that a person frozen in time?

"What do we do with him?" one man asked.

"Pretty sure he's dead," another replied.

"Then why is he on ice? He was an ARC. Look at the pauldrons. You'd think his brothers would care."

The officer shrugged in response. What they didn't know was that this man was thought dead before being frozen and stored away with a pile of junk. The Emperor made sure he remained in cold silence; incapable of being examined by anyone wanting to investigate his brain now missing its chip.

You stayed perched above the scene and watched until the imperials left. They were starting to take over this part of the forest and you didn't like it. They would come to this area and dump things, but not even in any kind of coordinated pile. It was like tossing trash off the side of a speeder, but on a larger scale. Your home was not a place to leave unwanted scraps and certainly not a person. You took a breath and closed your eyes. You sensed the faintest bit of life coming from the frozen casket. Curious, you climbed down to investigate further as the stars began shining through the canopy. There wasn't much to do besides release him and see if you could help.

You pushed the carbonite chamber so it hovered over a bed of large leaves. It was better than landing on machine parts. You punched a few buttons and the carbonite immediately started melting away. The solidified face reemerged from its tomb and you couldn't help but smile when his nose crinkled right before the man fell bum first into the pile of leaves.

You knelt down next to him as he started coughing. He was practically begging for breath. He had sustained a near-mortal injury which was now clearly visible. You closed your eyes and instinctively rubbed his back. You felt like he might slip away, and so you reached inside yourself to drag out any bit of life you could give him. He gripped his chest, but you could feel the wound healing. He finally opened his eyes and searched yours.

"I-" he gasped again. "Who-"

"Don't be afraid," you replied softly. "You're safe here."

"My chest... it-" He struggled to find words.

"Does it feel any better?" you asked. He simply nodded and tried to get his breathing under control. You sat with him as he got his bearings.

"What's your name?" you asked.

"I'm not sure," he answered. "I'm not sure what happened."

"Come with me then." You stood and held out your hand. The man took it and followed you.

You were used to getting around through the tree tops and moving light as a feather. This trip home took over twice the usual amount of time, but you didn't mind. You felt this man had been wronged in more ways than one and needed someone.

"What's the last thing you remember?" you asked in an attempt to make some kind of conversation.

"I don't know. I don't know my name and never mind anything else."

After several minutes he took in a sharp breath with his first memory.

"My friend is gone. My brothers are gone. I wish I could remember," was all he could muster. "It feels so hazy." After a few more minutes he asked, "Did I die?"

"I'm not sure," you replied. "It seems someone wanted you dead. Based on what the imperials said it seems someone very powerful wanted you gone and wanted your body hidden."

The man's face twisted in a mess of pain and confusion. Imperials? What did that mean?

You stopped and looked at him under the glow of the stars. You gave him your name. He simply smiled at you, still trying to figure it all out.

"I'm a nymph." You just came out and said it. You could feel he was trying to figure out why his wound had mostly healed. "I can heal people. Some call it the Force, but we don't really use that word among my kind. I sensed you and found you. That's all I know right now."

"How many of you are there?" he asked.

"Fewer now. We tend to hide."

You pulled back a nearly impossible-to-find curtain of branches and let him inside your home. He took off his armor and was grateful for the opportunity to clean up and eat something. He insisted on taking the couch, but you didn't sleep well. He was out for over half a day. A serious rest was exactly what he needed.

Over the course of the next few months he started to remember more. One look in the mirror at his tattoo and he was reminded of his name. Then the names of his brothers. Then how he had so many brothers. It wasn't long before you told him about the fall of the Republic. Fives felt frozen. What about Rex? Did Rex know he was alive? Surely Rex wouldn't abandon him. You could see the gears turning in his head as he tried to figure out what he was missing.

"Fives?"

"Hmm?"

You nodded toward the door and headed outside. Whenever his memory gaps frustrated him, you went for a walk. Fives loved seeing you care for the creatures of the forest and at times could have sworn he heard other voices giggling from above; other nymphs out of sight but keeping a watch on their friend and the stranger who was starting to make himself at home.

As you made your way back, Fives reached for your hand. It felt small in his own, but he held yours with a gentle strength. You smiled up at him and gave his hand a little squeeze.

"Don't stay on the couch tonight," you said. His grin turned into a big smile and he followed you back to the bedroom. He knew something was there, but he'd never experienced this feeling to this degree. Fives never wanted to push things and certainly not when he was trying to figure out his past, his life, his purpose, but maybe this was part of his purpose. You were part of his life and the reason he survived.

The bedroom wasn't large, but it was enough to be comfortable. He held you close to his chest and sighed almost comically.

"Now this is healing," he said, making you giggle. He nuzzled his face against yours and sighed, peacefully this time.

"Fives?"

"Mh?"

"You need to find him, don't you?"

"Who?"

"You know who. Rex. You've been thinking about Rex."

"I don't even know if he's still alive, cyar'ika."

"Exactly. Finding him or figuring out what happened to him would be a good place to start," you replied. "And I could go with you."

Fives pulled back and searched your face. "But you've never left this forest."

You shrugged. "The galaxy is changing, I was meant to be here for when you came, but now it's time for something new. Fives, I've lived here for over a century. I'm getting older and it's time."

"You don't look old," he tried to joke.

"Nymphs don't age like clones," you countered with a hint of sass. "We've been over this."

He smiled in contemplation. "What if I'm the last clone?" he asked.

"You're not," you said, shaking your head and caressing his face. "I can sense it. Somewhere out there are your brothers."

"Then I should find them."

And you would. Both of you. Together.

[godesssiri]

10 Thrifting Tips – Part ? I lost count just check my thrifting tag

1) Make friends with the staff. If you go into a particular thrift store frequently it’s well worth it to get friendly with the staff. Ask them about their day, chat with them about what you’re buying, infodump if you’ve found something exciting and unusual. When the staff get to know you and know what you buy they’ll start pointing out things in the store that have come in since the last time you were there, that fit your interests. They may even start putting things aside for you. Recently I walked into my favorite thrift store and had 2 separate staff members say ‘Oh I’ve got something for you’. Plus having the staff greet you by name and having little inside jokes with them just makes the whole experience more fun.

2) Brita jugs turn up at the thrift store frequently. If tap water in your area is safe but has A Taste, keep an eye out at the thrift store.

3) Coffee making equipment. Capsule coffee makers, the wire racks that hold the capsules, French presses, these all get donated frequently. The occasional espresso machine comes in – and goes out very quickly. Now and then you’ll find pour-over coffee equipment. If you like your bean juice you can get the equipment you need to make fancy bean juice at the thrift store.

4) Handmade pottery mugs. Story time: About 6 or 7 years ago I went into a thrift store and someone had obviously just cleaned out their mug cupboard and donated a pile of handmade pottery. I bought 4 because I thought they were cool, very tactile, nice to hold. This AWOKE something in me. Humans have used handmade pottery for thousands of years and there’s something about holding a handmade mug that sparks a genetic memory of warmth and comfort. Pottery also has much better thermal properties than mass produced ceramic, hot stays hot longer and vice versa with cold. Build up a little collection of handmade pottery mugs from the thrift store, each one has its own personality and it brings joy using them.

5) In the same vein: teaspoons. Build up a collection of fun teaspoons and take joy from using different ones depending on your mood. I have one with an owl on the end and another with a rose, a brass one with a wiggly handle in the shape of a snake, one that has the branding of an airline that now only uses wooden stirrers - probably because people kept pocketing the stainless-steel teaspoons (I always wanted to steal one as a child but never had the nerve). Whenever I need a teaspoon it’s always a little endorphin boost to open the drawer and select the perfect one for today.

6) If you need something to do a specific job, be patient, you will find the perfect thing eventually. I switched to solid shampoo and my old soap dish wasn’t big enough to hold my shampoo bar and my regular soap, so I waited and watched and found the perfect little glass tray that was exactly the right size and fits perfectly on the shelf in my shower. I could have bought a brand new made-for-that-purpose multi soap holder, but it wouldn’t have been as cool looking and when I’m done with it, it wouldn’t necessarily get another life.

7) Gift supplies. Thrift stores often have a selection of unused gift wrap, bags, bows, cards. It’s worth it to sift through what they’ve got and buy any you think you might use – even if you don’t have an immediate use for it. That stuff can get expensive so if you can create a small stash then, when you need it, you won’t have to shell out $$.

8) Look for things that can be made over – or thrift flipped as the DIY content creators like to say. There’s so much satisfaction from looking at something that was plain ugly when you bought it and you’ve turned it into something pretty. It doesn’t need to be a major transformation that requires 5 different power-tools and 100 bucks worth of supplies. It can be as simple as a lick of paint, but every time you look at you will feel good about it.

9) Sometimes it’s worth buying something that’s just really cool and figuring out a use for it later. I bought the coolest little silver plated mustard pot; it has 3 legs and at the top of each leg is a lion head. Do I eat mustard much? No. Did I know what the heck I would use it for? No. I get bad indigestion and keep antacids on hand, I hate how once you tear open the roll, they tend to spill everywhere so I like to put them in something. Guess what holds exactly one roll of antacids? If something is just freaking awesome but you don’t know what you’d use it for, you will find a use (and it will be so much cooler than anything else you might have bought for that purpose).

10) Use the fancy stuff. Don’t ever look at something in a thrift store and think: that’s too fancy, I’ll never use it. If it’s not bought and used it ends up in landfill. Save it from the landfill and use it. Today I bought the most OTT fancy silver pepper shaker to sit next to my stove and hold ground pepper for cooking with, one of my housemates never puts the damn pepper back in the cupboard when he’s finished with it, so now we have this ostentatious silver shaker next to the stove top. One of my dogs can be relied upon to get half of his food on the floor before he hoovers it up, I could have got a plastic mat to feed him on but I had a spare thrifted marble cutting/serving board (I have a problem, I own 3, I have so much trouble resisting them), and another plus - he can’t destroy it like he would a plastic mat. I keep my toothbrush in a crystal bud vase. I decant my micellar water into a bottle shaped like a seahorse. I eat off pretty vintage pink glass plates. Using the fancy stuff from thrift stores both helps you romanticize your own life and it gives these items another life. Do be sensible though, some items made before the early 1970s including glassware and dinnerware contain lead in the decoration so do your due diligence and be safe.

[adinathinternationalindia]

Semi Automatic Capsule Counting Machine

Semi-automatic capsule counting machine counts and fills pre-measured capsules into bottles, jars, and pouches. It also has a semi-automatic capsule counter. Various counts for varying capsule sizes can be provided based on the specific needs of each user. It’s interesting to note that this capsule counting machine can fill and count tablets with an extra disc in the same machine. This machine is also known as a semi-automatic tablet counting machine for this reason.

The capsule counting and filling machine is a disc-based device that conforms with cGMP regulations because the disk is made of food-grade materials. The likelihood of contamination is quite low. A specially made vibrator assembly is available in a dish to fully settle capsules into the disc’s holes. It’s interesting that the machine has both an auto and a foot pedal-operated manual mode for multitasking. With its cutting-edge technology, robust construction, and affordable costs, Adinath is among the top producers of capsule counting machines in India.

[notiddygothgf]

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙔 𝙈𝙊𝙉𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍 !

synopsis: the one where you have the hots for your dealer, and Wakasa is always eager to please a customer. (don't let your boyfriend stop you from finding your husband.)

pairings: wakasa imaushi x f!reader, light takeomi x reader content warning: smut, porn with some plot, car sex, cheating, oral sex, sneaky link, sexual tension, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, sex while high, consensual drug use, mentions of abuse. word count: 1.4k authors note:

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven

TWO: GRIEVANCES

YOUR THUMBS HOVERED OVER the message bar. This wasn’t cheating. You knew it wasn’t. But still, something felt wrong. Maybe it was the fact that you found him incredibly attractive. Maybe it was the fact that texting him meant acknowledging this unfounded attraction to him. Whatever it was, you found yourself rather hesitant to text your boyfriend’s dealer.

Hey, it’s takeomi’s gf. 

You quickly hit the backspace button, deleting the message you had just typed to him. With a frustrated sigh, you tried again.

Hey, it’s me! 

No, too informal. You seriously doubted a man who dealt marijuana would be able to recognize someone based on such a loose claim as “It’s me”.

Hi! It’s Takeomi’s gf 🙂 

You deleted it again. That didn’t sound right. You told yourself it was because of the emoji and not because of the weird way your gut twisted at the thought of him seeing you as nothing more than his cohort’s girlfriend.

Hey! It’s [Y/N]. 

This one sounded a little better. 

Okay, you decided. You would hit send. You would hit send and then throw your phone across the room and never check it again.

Your eyes widened. Why were you tripping so hard over a text message when you were in a relationship?

With a sigh, you hit send. Of course, you turned off your phone anyway.

Now what? You thought. When your question was greeted by the distinct growl of an empty stomach, you decided that you had been in bed long enough. Taking a few seconds to gather your strength, you released the covers from your grip and slid out of bed. Almost immediately after you took your first step, a jolt of pain shot up your back. 26 and already feeling the age. 

It felt as if someone had snuck into your room in the middle of the night and beat down your tailbone with a mallet. Despite this devastating inconvenience that had put a significant damper on your morning – or afternoon, whenever it was – you found yourself making your way into the kitchen of your boyfriend’s apartment.

The kitchen was quiet. At first glance, in fact, one might have thought the apartment was empty, had it not been for the rather angry-looking man sitting at the table while flipping through the newspaper. He looked pissed. Your heart plummeted. 

Something was up. If that was the case, then that meant you had to talk to him. You also needed food. You wanted to turn back, but the grumbling in your stomach reminded you that that was no longer an option.

Takeomi’s tired gaze found yours.

The silence was thick, and it was awkward. You moved to the coffee machine first, seeking your fill of caffeine for the morning. Today was a Saturday. No work. No distractions from whatever it was he had found that made him so angry. A thin-lipped scowl sat atop his face. Lovely. 

You reached into the cupboard, popping one of the instant coffee capsules into your beat-up little machine. It whirred to life, and in a matter of seconds, the faint aroma of instant coffee wafted through the kitchen. As you made your way over to the stove, you noticed that there were still quite a few cupcakes left in the little box you had put them in when you had baked a few days ago. You licked your lips.

"Are you mad at me?" You asked your boyfriend, popping the lid off the box and bringing out three cupcakes. Seven left. That would get you through the weekend. 

"Yeah," he deadpanned. The man didn't look up from his little phone screen. 

You bit your lip. "Oh... alright." In hindsight, you probably deserved the attitude. The return of that deep, gnawing guilt was near instantaneous following his words. You’d spent the whole morning and the entirety of last night convincing yourself that what you had done wasn’t cheating and he’d undone all of your efforts in a matter of seconds.

If there was one thing your stoic boyfriend had mastered over the years, it would be that mean poker face he kept painted on his features around other people. He had always hated letting people in. It was the same thing every time; no matter how mad he was he would walk out with that bored expression on his face.

The coffee machine beeped. “What’s wrong?” You asked, taking a seat at the table across from him.

The silence which befell the two of you was nearly deafening. 

Does he even know about what happened? You dared to question.

No, there’s no way. I'm not in the wrong here, you reminded yourself. Though you didn’t know him well, you didn’t think Waka would snitch on you to your boyfriend. He didn’t seem like the type.

"Who…" Takeomi broke the silence. Judging by the way he tensed, he was one fuckup away from hitting you again. His voice was hoarse. "Whose phone number is that? On that box?”

Shit. You felt your heart sink. 

“I have no idea,” You lied through your teeth. You could play this off… yeah, you definitely could.

Takeomi glared at you. His gaze dropped down to your hands, which were folded together neatly, and then back up to your poker face. When you tilted your head at him, as if to say ‘what?’, the man shook his head.

“You didn’t even look,” He muttered. “You’re so full of shit.” 

You opened your mouth as if to say something but then decided against it. 

"I wasn’t expecting you to tell me the truth, don’t worry," He shrugged, reaching over and stealing one of your cupcakes. "That’s one thing your batshit crazy mother warned me about. I should have listened.”

"Don't bring my mom into this," you warned him. Your heart was racing, thrumming steadily against your ribs. Huffing out an exaggerated sigh, you tried lying to save your ass again. "I barely remember. It was some guy outside the liquor store, I think. Not sure who.”

Takeomi didn’t look amused, nor did he grace you with a reply. Black brows drawn together, exasperated would have been an understatement. 

“I didn’t call the number,” You added. Sometimes, you wished you had the ability to shut your fat fucking mouth. “I don’t call strangers.”

"Whatever," He sank his teeth into the yummy treat and then hummed. "Don’t let me hear about you going behind my back. You know there would be consequences."

Your head was pounding already. How fucking dare he? "Please don’t talk to me like I’m a child, Take. You’re not my father.”

"Not your father? I might as well be," He chuckled, although you couldn’t recall what was so funny about it. Then again, that might have been the most frightening part of it all. His eyes finally met yours, and they were dark. Emotionless. Where there used to be adoration, there was now a gaping, empty pit. "God, you're fucking selfish."

That’s rich. 

" I'm selfish?" You scoffed, rising from your seat to jab an accusatory finger in his direction. "I don’t need to hear that from you."

"You don’t get it," Argued your tired boyfriend. “Of course you don’t get it. I’ve given you everything and it’s still not enough for you.”

"Everything," you scoffed once more. Seeing him like this was a reminder of the reason you had left him to begin with. He was a fucking narcissist, always had been. “Please, after that gambling fiasco you pulled when your boss died or whatever? You don’t have shit for me to use you for.”

" Watch your fucking mouth ," He rose from his own chair, slamming his hands against the table so hard your coffee mug rattled with the force of it. 

You flinched instinctively, and his eyes widened. He balled his fists against the table.

Your heart was beating a mile a minute. You were waiting for the slap. Waiting, waiting, but it never came. Slowly, you removed your hands from your face. 

"You’re lucky I’m too tired to beat the shit out of you," he panted. 

"Fuck off," You seethed, voice dripping with venom. He had no business raising his voice at you when you did nothing wrong. "You’re mad at me for something I didn’t even do."

"Oh, so you didn’t lie to me just now?" He asked you. His voice climbed a few notches. He took a few breaths to calm himself down, glancing down at his white knuckles and then lifting his eyes once more. “I bet you already fucked him, you whore.”

Ablaze with fire, your soul spurred you onward. “Don’t even go there,” You snapped back. “Maybe you wouldn’t have to be so fuckin’ insecure all the time if you treated your girl nice once in a while.”

Takeomi’s head popped up from the table. Eyes wide with surprise – or maybe it was rage, at this point you couldn’t tell – he spoke again. “Yeah?”

A sudden wave of nausea washed over you. Your hands began to tremble. "Take..."

"Insecure," he sighed. “I’m insecure.”

I’ve gone too far. You sighed. “Look, I’m sorry, Take. I–”

Takeomi got up and promptly left the kitchen. You knew he was going back to his room, but you made no effort to stop him. 

There was nobody to blame here but yourself.

Your reverie was broken only by the telltale buzz of your phone against your thigh. Pulling the device out from underneath you, you set it on the table.

Unknown             1m ago

Hey dollface

Ignoring the desperate way your heart squeezed at his message, you swiped into the chat.

Unknown

|  Hey dollface 

You

You busy? 

Unknown

|   nah just picked up some bud

|   why, u want?

You

U read my mind  

typing… 

You swallowed nervously.

Unknown

|   b there in 20 

With a relieved sigh, you turned off your phone. You would be lying if you said the message didn’t excite you a bit more than it should have.

“We meet again, princess.” 

This time, when the car pulled up next to you on the sidewalk, you felt yourself begin to smile. The sight awaiting you made you grin ear to ear.

“Hey,” you offered awkwardly. You hadn’t gotten used to the whole name-calling thing with him yet. That was probably for the better, in all honesty. You weren’t too sure you were supposed to be used to another man calling you “doll face” while your boyfriend was sulking away in his room inside.

“Hey,” Waka returned the gesture. And, fuck, his smile was breathtaking. 

Shit. You didn’t mean that.

His blond hair was in a bun today. And the broad daylight definitely did something to illuminate the pretty features on his face. You had half a mind to jump into that car with him and take off. 

“Picking up for your boyfriend again?” He asked.

You shook your head. Your heart was about to explode and melt out of your eye sockets if you kept looking at him a moment longer. 

Self-control. You are a taken woman.

“No, I’m uh,” You swallowed. “I’m actually buying for myself this time.”

He extended his arm out the window. There was a baggie pinched between his fingers, though you were more focused – for some reason – on the pink scarring on his knuckles. He shook the bag towards you. “I brought you Wedding Cake. That okay?”

“That’s more than okay,” You answered, digging through your pocket for the bills you had brought out with you in anticipation of his arrival. “How much do you want for it?”

“Nothing,” He said. His lips were pressed thin as he offered the bag to you again.

Shaking your head, you offered again. “I already owe you, please, take something,” You reiterated. “For my peace of mind.”

After a brief pause, during which the two of you shared a moment of intense eye contact, the smile returned to Waka’s face. “Fine then,” he sighed. “2000 yen.”

You fished the change out and handed it to him. He dropped the baggie into your open palm.

“Why so cheap?” You asked. “You didn’t put something in it, did you?”

“No,” he chuckled. He cast a glance out the windshield onto the empty street almost wistfully, and then carefully returned all of his attention to you. His gaze dropped from your face to your body, and then back up like nothing happened. “Consider it a discount for being so damn pretty.”

You tried your best not to think too hard about his words. To ultimately no avail, of course.

As the silence returned, the tension between the two of you was palpable. Tucking a stray behind your ear, you tried your very best to not think about what he just said. You were not about to blush at another man’s words. That was low.

You scrambled to find the words to respond, some sort of witty retort, but you were at a loss for words. “Thank you,” was all you could muster the courage to say. Quickly, you turned back around to march towards the house.

He was probably just being nice . 

“Hey,” he called. The uncharacteristically bold statement made you turn back around. He was waiting for you with an arm strewn casually over the doorframe, a lazy grin resting on his lips. When he saw he had your attention, he added, “If you want someone to smoke that with, don’t be shy, yeah?”

This time you couldn’t fight the rosy hue that found its way onto your warm cheeks. 

“Yeah,” you replied, though it was barely audible from beneath your breath. With a nod and a timid smile, you said, “Okay.”

Tempting offer, you mused internally. What a tempting offer, indeed.

Waka        3m ago 

Wyd?

Your tired eyes glared down at the bleary phone screen. Somehow, you had been hoping the message would have gone away. Yet almost a whole minute had passed and there it was, sitting unanswered in an otherwise empty chatroom.

It wasn’t that had necessarily been avoiding him since the two of you spoke last. No, that was far from the case. In fact, you found the man quite attractive. One could say that you were ignoring the elephant in the room.

It was just something about him; Those deep, pretty eyes, with those long, pretty lashes. His long hair dyed purple in sections which he normally wore tied back. His expression, unlike most others you had dealt with previously, was remarkably stoic. Yet those eyes… they would follow you. 

Previously, you had found yourself making more than a few excuses just to see his pretty face again. This time around, though, it seemed like you were making excuses to stay away from that devilish smile of his. Suffice it to say, you had developed something of a little crush on the guy. One small issue.

You were in a committed relationship. You seemed to have forgotten that much.

For a moment, you had debated replying. It had been a week since the two of you had last spoken. When the feeling in your gut became too much to bear you sighed and opened the message.

Waka

|   wyd?

You

hey! Im watching Tv rn haha wbu?  

Lame ass reply. Truly. Lame ass reply. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. You were watching a new k-drama. You didn’t want to come off as too busy, or like you were about to go to bed. What if he wanted to see you? Or just chat?

You glanced at the little alarm clock on your bedstand. 11:42 PM 

Waka

|   Haven’t seen your pretty face around lately.

|   Got a new strain I think you’d like, u want?

You thought for a while. A freshly packed bowl did sound kind of nice. Especially being that you had just come home from a rather awkward dinner with your boyfriend. It had been a while since you’d been able to sit down, light up, and feel your worries pass with every breath of smoke – as many of your problems these last few weeks involved the man dealing your weed. 

Unfortunately, the double-digit number that sat in your checking account was simply not high enough to warrant another purchase so soon. 

You

sure! I get paid uh 

thursday 

 that ok? Ill pick up then. 

Waka is typing…  God, that little bubble beneath his name made you nervous. It seemed to have been there for hours – but what was, in actuality, mere minutes. 

Waka

|  let’s meet up tn

Tonight? Your heart dropped through the fucking floor. Your eyes made their way down to the half-eaten bowl of potato chips in your lap, and then to the moo-moo nightgown you were wearing. It had little rabbits on it.

You

Tonight?  

Waka

|   yeah dollface

|   let me smoke u out?

Let me smoke u out 

Let me smoke u out 

He. Him. He wanted to smoke you out? In your nightie with little bunnies all over it, with your hair a hot mess. At 11:43 PM, nonetheless. When he knew full and well that you had a boyfriend in a picture. It was so absurd that you had half of a mind to say no.

So absurd, in fact, that you found your fingers moving against the keys before you even thought about replying.

You

Okay  

Give me 45?  

Waka

|   take your time 

|   where am i picking you up?

You

{Location Attached}  

With a swallow that was almost painful, you set your phone down on the dresser. 

This isn’t weird, you told yourself.

Waka wound up pulling up to your place – but not really your place, down the block – Around 12:45. You has known it was him immediately after you caught a glimpse of the moonlight reflected on the curvatures of his sleek black BMW. It looked different like this than it did under the dim street lights in front of Takeomi’s house.

Fighting back a shiver, you pulled your coat tighter around your body. In hindsight, while your outfit was cute and cunty, it may not have been the wisest decision for tonight’s weather. The ground had a thin layer of frost over it. You had dressed accordingly for the weather by showing up in a zip-up hoodie, a skirt, and some fuzzy thigh-high socks.

The car was prettier from the inside; A shiny black interior – plush-looking seats, a well-groomed rug, and a freshly polished dashboard. Perhaps the prettiest thing in the entire vehicle was the man sitting in the driver’s seat next to you.

He was wearing a zip-up hoodie of his own, along with some black sweats. The hoodie opened up to reveal a plain black tee shirt. As per usual, he wore his hair in that half-up-half-down style you loved so much. In short, he looked as breathtaking as always.

Currently, he was dry-grinding some bud for the two of you to smoke. He had this expensive looking black grinder with a clear white strip around the center. He held the lighter with his teeth. “You cold?” 

“A little, but it’s alright,” You lied. He went and turned up the heat anyway. Subconsciously, somehow, you tilted your palms towards the warm new air. Glancing over at the man in the driver’s seat, you wondered where he would take you.

And as he set down the lighter and grinder, shifted into drive, and pulled out of his parking spot, the thought crossed your mind once more. It was a beautiful night out. The sky, free from any clouds or smog, was this wonderful shade of midnight blue, with tiny specks of white splattered throughout like water on a bathroom mirror… or… something poetic. The dark pavement rolled smoothly beneath the car – the trees and houses alongside the road casting shadows on its surface. 

Waka turned the corner. You nestled your hands between your thighs, which had begun to bounce nervously sometime during the brief exchange you had shared with your dealer. Shadows and Streetlights danced before your eyes as the car began to pick up the pace.

“Where are we going?” You asked. You’d watched a few murder mysteries too many these past few weeks. Yet, funnily enough, you trusted Waka more than you trusted many of your peers. He’d been there longer than some of them, after all.

The man hummed, adjusting the one hand he had on the wheel. “Dunno yet. Anywhere particular on your mind?”

After a brief pause, you shook your head.

“Then I’ll take you to my spot,” Waka replied. Then, just like before, the awkward silence befell the two of you like… something.

This felt wrong. Well, not really. It felt right. You couldn’t determine what the feeling in your gut was. It could have been anxiety, it could have been excitement. You had no idea where the night would be taking you.

It didn't seem right; not after everything that had gone down between the two of you in a matter of two weeks. 

He wanted to be friends. That was all. The two of you were becoming friendly. You weren’t going behind Takeomi’s back and cheating on him. The two of you were two friends who wanted to smoke together, that was all.

No, it was deeper than that, wasn't it? You didn't want him to be your friend.

Your sweaty palms brushed against the doorframe as he made a wide turn. You rolled them over your thigh-highs, collecting some of the moisture.

You love Takeomi , you reminded yourself. But that wasn't it either. You had gone into this link-up fully aware – even somewhat hopeful – that it might lead to something else. The subconscious realization brought a wave of nausea over you. 

You massaged your temples with your fingers, biting back a bitter sigh. What have I done? 

Nothing, you reminded yourself. You did nothing wrong. 

Some 10-15 minutes later, the car rolled to a stop. You glanced up from your lap. 

A pretty picture was painted across the dash: A deep blue sky with hues of purple. An empty forest below. The two of you were parked on a cliff, overlooking it all.

You leaned over the dash, peeping around the corner to check if anyone was nearby. But, no, nothing but trees and empty land as far as the eyes could see.

“You like?” You heard Waka’s voice before you really processed what was happening. It was just the two of you out here. You were suddenly very conscious of the proximity between his arm and yours. Something in the air had changed. The car seemed a lot warmer.

Instinctively, your hands flew to your outfit, smoothing over the wrinkles while you adjusted yourself in your seat. “It’s pretty,” you remarked. “What are we doing all the way up here, though? I thought this place was closed off from the public?”

You heard him shift next to you. Then, from the corner of your eye, you saw his hand reaching for the grinder he had placed in the cupholder. There was a slip of white rolling paper pinched between his non-dominant fingers. 

“Be a doll and reach into that glove compartment, would ya?” He asked. The dim light from the car – which you hadn’t even realized was on – cast a gentle glow over his face, bringing those pretty features of his into sight. The small bump on the ridge of his nose, the neutral expression which seemed to consistently rest on his lips. From here, you could smell the faint essence of his cologne – that and the fresh-ground weed sitting between the two of you was enough to make you dizzy.

Still, you popped open the handle on the dash, watching the compartment fall open slowly. You shuffled through its contents, trying your best not to react when your hand brushed up against a mini-pack of condoms. “You want the tray?” You offered.

“That’s it,” He affirmed. Trying desperately not to acknowledge the way the mellow deepness in his voice made your insides turn with a very certain feeling that made you want to press your thighs together, You placed the rolling tray into his lap. 

He laid the flat square of paper onto the tray. After twisting open the compartment of the grinder, he emptied its contents onto the white sheet. 

“You ever had Fruity Pebbles?” He asked while cleaning up the weed into one line.

You furrowed your brows. “Like… the cereal?”

He chuckled. It was a deep, guttural sound, and it made your heart feel a little funny. You had to remind yourself for the millionth time; he was your dealer . 

“Kinda.” He began folding the little slip in on itself. “The strain’s s’pose to make you feel real good.”

You watched intently as he began to roll the joint. Skilled, strong fingers made quick work of it, pinching the end and rolling in slowly.

“How?” You asked. Inwardly, you cursed yourself for asking such a stupid question. 

“Makes you feel energized,” He commented. He brought the half-rolled joint up to his lips. He lifted the protruding flap and then, letting his eyes settle on your reddened face, ran his tongue slowly over the joint – maintaining eye contact the entire time. “ Euphoric. ”

You squeezed your thighs together. It felt too intense to continue looking at him so intently. You averted your gaze back to your lap once more, lustful thoughts overcoming your mind – though you would never have admitted it.

 “I’ve never smoked a joint before,” You stammered. “I’ve only really used pipes before. Never learned how to roll.”

“I’ll show you.” He said.

“There’s nothing else in it, is there?” You asked. “Just weed?”

Click. Click. 

When you looked over, the light of a small, controlled flame was illuminating the lower half of his face. He had the fresh-rolled joint tucked away between his teeth, and the lighter open in his hand. Glancing over to your seat, he pulled the joint out from his mouth and held it up to your own, beckoning you to take it.

“Just weed,” he said. “Really good weed. Trust me.”

You hesitated for a moment, but eventually closed your lips around the small end of the joint. 

“Good girl,” he breathed, holding the lighter up to the stick pinched in your lips. He sparked up twice before the flame actually caught on. The end of the joint sizzled as he burned it. “Now suck in.”

You followed his command rather obediently. Pinching the joint between your index finger and your thumb, you sucked in a small puff of gas and then–

“Shit,” You coughed. The burning sensation in your throat had worked its way down to your lungs and back in a matter of seconds. You handed it back to him in an effort to cover up your inexperienced hacking. Smoking from a pipe was certainly different than this.

The man held the joint against his plush lips, sucking in a good, long mouthful of it. 

“That’s strong,” You remarked, eyes still a bit blurry from the harsh puff you had taken. 

“Mmm,” he practically purred, although it had transitioned into something of a chuckle near the end. As his lips curled into a devious little grin, he blew smoke out of his nose – it came out both of his nostrils like an angry bull. The last of it seemed to leave his mouth as it opened to make way for his next few words. “It is.”

He extended the joint back to you. “Think you can take it?”

You knew it was too late to turn back now. Your resolve was weak enough as it was. Under the influence? You had no idea what you were capable of doing now that it was just the two of you alone in the middle of nowhere – with no one to disturb you.

Were you ready for the consequences?

One more glance at him, at his lazy grin, at his half-lidded eyes, and you knew the answer to your question.

Already, you were starting to feel the lightness in your skull. Yet, still, you took the joint from Waka and accepted his challenge, wordlessly sealing your fate.

[eclecticopposition]

what do you think about thalia (from upstairs, downstairs)?

hello!! thank you for the ask :}

short answer: we love them and we want to see more of them. has anyone done art or writing about thalia? we'd love to see.

(2983 words and counting answer: we're writing a fic about them. it's slow but lovely.)

but let's get to the long answer. (and it is a long answer.) road to palisade spoilers below!

there's a lot to unpack with thalia. let's start with who they are.

based on the discussion, at least to our memory, this is a person who predates the war and might have even been a factor in how it started. which raises two really interesting and sad points.

one, for however long the war has been happening, thalia has existed outside of it. they're a branched who isn't shaped by a war of extermination and what that means. or they might be. did the war actually start after or because of their capture? how much do they know about it? were they a witness to important discussions in the manor, military matters? were they cognizant enough of this to hear things going downhill?

which means, for example, thalia might not have a war form. an envoy form, yes – we saw them in it – but that makes sense, given the need for diplomacy with other cultures. they might just not have a war form. they were definitely from a world where needing to have one was not normal. what does that mean, for relating to their own people? they are a prisoner who is also effectively a time capsule from a world that just doesn't exist anymore.

two, how long have they been a house? god, how long have they been a house? this character might have been a house for longer than every other branched we've met has been alive. centuries? a thousand years? how do you stand being made to hold a shape for that long? how do you grapple with the isolation, the humiliation? we're told that branched can be coaxed into changing, if they're convinced that they want to be something else. what did that machine kesh put them in do?

so, a branched who is removed from the war, probably kept in a state that is pleasantly dissociative and inactive. completely without agency and still horrific whenever they process it, but more effective than just torturing them until they stay still. (which we can't rule out.) a branched who is deeply traumatized, and who will return to a home that will love them fiercely even as it can no longer understand them. that's what we think, at least.

or, put a different way...

(we sometimes read "all force and fuss and brummagem kitsch" to the tune of Bubblegum Bitch. just a fun little tidbit.)

anyways. let's talk about their rescue.

what are the odds that phrygian was involved in getting them out? because we could go either way. they absolutely were involved indirectly. millennium break does not launch a mission to free a branched without phrygian's continuous efforts to improve their reputations, and people seeing them as more than just a horrible monster without a respectably human-shaped face. we actually think there's something lovely about millennium break deciding to free thalia without prompting. it speaks to the realness of their commitment, to the fact that this is a person and they are trapped, and we are going to get them out. the branched are people we look after as much as anyone. this is what we do.

but also, we love the idea that when this was brought to phrygian's attention, it suddenly became their project. they were running this shit behind the scenes. phrygian is almost never in a position of leadership in canon, preferring to follow someone else's lead, but we would love this to be one big exception – maybe even the thing they were doing right before they go to palisade with brnine. people report to them on this. they have subordinates, and isn't that weird. literally a thing we have been dreaming of is a visual novel from guliford gain's perspective, getting ready for the mission, including a scene of her talking with phrygian in front of a huge starry window, alone in the middle of the night.

because this is a big deal, right? phrygian would have heard of thalia. they'd have heard of a person who was stolen from them that eventually led to outright war. saving thalia means something. phrygian was captured and imprisoned themself for an indeterminate amount of time, but certainly nowhere near that long. this is huge for the branched, if they pull it off. it's definitely huge for diplomatic relations. and it's the sort of thing you can do that's just good.

maybe the reality is somewhere in between the two. we think that an essential part of compassionate care for freeing any branched is ensuring that another branched is there when they get out. maybe phrygian was involved. we hope they were at least consulted. it sure would help in convincing thalia to go with them if all of the soldiers had, say, a handwritten note in their own language from a fellow branched. we think that phrygian not being on the mission proper was a given because they are keith's character (from a watsonian perspective it was probably a matter of it being covert, and not the place for a branched) but we do like to think that wherever thalia ends up, phrygian, or another branched we don't know, was waiting for them with open arms.

(we would also absolutely love vivian exler, gardener and millennium break wannabe, taking their getaway vehicle and being detained, waiting for hours in her cell, and then having a branched show up. and politely interrogate her on why the fuck she has that. and where the people who are supposed to have it are. welcome to the team!)

of course, that raises another question. did thalia go home?

we'd be interested in the world where they stayed, but honestly, we think they must have. they were a house for a thousand years. they don't even have a war form. let them rest.

now, in the world where this happened lightyears away, and phrygian maybe never even heard about it, that's that. millennium break freed the oldest captive branched in the galaxy, almost right next to the front lines, and they sent them home. one of those Ws that are to be treasured. but what about in the world where phrygian was involved in this? what about the world where phrygian came that close to being with the branched again, literally, in physical space?

that means that thalia went home and phrygian didn't. there was an actual opportunity and phrygian didn't take it. they met another branched for the first time in years, spent however long they had together, and then watched them leave. and that just twists the knife.

(this is why we need that visual novel so bad.)

so yeah, we're on the phrygian/thalia train. if you're on the phrygian/thalia train we are sitting across from you looking you directly in the eyes. come be on this train with us. draw us something. talk to us. what are we going to do, not be on board with sad branched hookups? please.

and then there's thalia, back home. welcomed back into a world where, odds are, everyone or almost everyone they'd ever known are dead. trying to find their place in a world that is utterly unrecognizable. trying to find their identity after an act of dehumanization so profound that it turned their own ability to choose their own shape into a convenience for their enemy. coming back to a place where they're a historical figure, to people who never thought they'd ever come home. back into a society that is suffering from the war it has been forced to engage in, but that has learned, one way or another, how to tend to those who come home.

we think there's grieving, and celebration, and there's a long, long period of figuring out what comes next. we think it's quiet. we think it's hard. we think it depends on how rare it is for branched to live a thousand years. alienation on top of trauma is a painful, difficult thing.

we think that when they come home, they sleep for a very long time.

[lovelynim]

Noises

Honkai Star Rail - Himeko

A/N: This fic is based on a little headcanon I came up with a while ago and shared with some friends. After a little time procrastinating, I decided to write it, hehe.

Summary: During the night, Himeko starts to hear some 'noises' coming from the passengers car

Word count: 1389 words

Himeko stared at the screen in front of her, with arms crossed and a serious facade. If the Astral Express were to take this route, they would, at least, need a couple more supplies for the trip. Food, water, repair kits and… Sigh, the list went on with some other items.

“What a headache,” she muttered, rubbing her temper as she tried to give it another thought. If they could add one or two stops between their final destination, maybe they could leave it for now - but, then, wouldn’t it take twice as much time than their original plan?

As the redheaded navigator dived deeper and deeper into her thoughts, she felt a friendly, gentle touch on her shoulder. Opening her eyes and turning her head around, Himeko was met with Welt’s concerned and worried case. With a slight smile, he pressed his fingers into her shoulder, as if to sooth her or give her some sort of massage.

“Do you need some help, Himeko?”

“Mr. Welt, I didn’t expect to see you in the parlor car this late,” she joked, huffing a giggle as she rested one of her hands on top of his. 

“As much as I appreciate your offer, I should deny it. These are just some matters up to me to solve as the express’s navigator, nothing you should worry yourself with.”

He nodded, lifting his hand from her shoulder as her words reached him. “I know I can’t convince you when you settle your mind or something, but at least promise me you’ll get some sleep.”

“Hahah, you are treating me like one of the kids, mr. Welt?” 

“I wouldn’t word it like that, but I think it works.”

Well…’ Himeko started as she crossed one leg over the other, sighing. “I will figure this out, it’s just a matter of time. If I don’t solve this within the next 30 minutes, I’ll leave it for tomorrow.”

“Very well, I will return to my bedroom, then, but call me if you need anything.”

“Oh, wait for me. I need to pick something in my room as well,” she said, elegantly getting up from her seat and walking down the car with Welt.

“And what would it be?”

“Just… something to drink,” she said sheepishly, already predicting how the male would react.

“Tsk, are you sure it is a good idea to drink coffee at this hour?”

“Oh please, who do you think I am? Just a cup is far from enough to keep me up, hahah ~”

As they strolled down the passengers car, the duo couldn’t help but notice a small chatter coming from Dan Heng’s room. Besides the Express’s archivist’s voice, the newest member’s could also be heard coming from inside the room.

“Dan Heng must be having a tough time sharing a room with Caelus, I never saw his bedroom’s lights on so late,” Welt observed, continuing to walk with Himeko.

“Let the kids enjoy themselves, mr. Welt, it’s best for the crew if everyone tag along. Besides, Dan Heng has quite the knowledge in a couple of topics, I’m sure it will do Caelus some good to learn about those while staying in his room,” she smiled, stopping in front of her room’s door and watching while Welt headed to his.

“Good night, Himeko.”

“Good night, mr. Welt!”

Heading inside, Himeko quickly turned on her coffee machine, dropping the capsule as she muttered a tune one of the kids played in the phonograph earlier while she waited. The navigator inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent of fresh coffee, smiling as she could pull her cup from the machine. “Now, let’s go back to work…”

Carrying her cup in one hand, she decided to walk a little slowly as she left her bedroom, after all, she didn’t even want to think about what Pom-Pom would say if she left a coffee stain on the carpet. But it shouldn’t take long for her to reach the-

thud

As the sound of something hitting the floor echoed from one of the bedroom’s, Himeko arched her eyebrow, concerned about the noise. Just what in the words were these kids up to at this hour?

As more weird sounds of impact came, the redheaded could tell their source: Dan Heng’s room. With careful steps, Himeko slowly approaches the room. As she lifted her hand as was about to knock on the door to check on him and Caelus, voices came from the other side of the door.

“C-Caelus! Stop… it… agh-”

“Come ooon ~”

What?

She blinked a few times, not sure if what she heard was right. Dan Heng’s voice sounded so… strangled, while the tone in Caelus’s words was… concerning. What was going on?

“N-nohoho!!”

She stopped again, standing in front of the door with a blank look on her face. All the worry from seconds ago seemed to vanish as she heard Dan Heng… laugh?

“Hehe, there it is! So you are ticklish…”

“E-enohohough!” She heard Dan Heng say, clearly laughing.

The noises from what sounded like a wrestling competition seemed to fit as the last pieces from the picture she was building in her mind. Much to her comfort, nothing harmful was happening.

“Where else are you ticklish? Here? Or… here?”

“C-Caelus! AHahAHAh, n-nohOHOT THEHERE!”

She couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, taking a sip from her cup after she was done giggling at the scene in her imagination - after all, it would be a waste to let such a good coffee go cold.

Since he joined the express, Himeko never heard Dan Heng laugh like that - or being so loud, for that matter. But, a day after the new guy came in and, well, look (or hear) at him. 

Shaking her head, with a sly smile on her face, she decided to let the two of them be, resuming her walk as Dan Heng’s laughter slowly faded away, becoming quieter and quieter until nothing else could be heard.

As she headed back to the table where she was working on - and after finishing her coffee - Himeko could, indeed, finish her planning and, just like the rest of the crew (or, at least, most of them), she could head back to her room and enjoy a good and deserved rest.

By the wake up call time, when the members of the crew slowly headed to the parlor car to eat their breakfast, Himeko was already up, enjoying her drink - which, of course, was another cup of coffee.

“Good morning, Himeko,” a low, sleepy voice came from her side. Turning her head, she could see Dan Heng approaching, joining her at the breakfast table. “Good morning, Pom-Pom,” he added, greeting the conductor who was already running around the car.

“Oh, good morning, Dan Heng,” she said, smiling fondly at the boy as she placed her cup down. “Did you sleep well?”

“Ah, yes, I suppose. What about you?”

“Well, I have to admit I could finally rest at ease after finishing the planning, hahah. But it’s good to know you could catch some sleep as well, I was worried about you,” she said, closing her eyes as her lips curled into a smug smile.

“Huh?” Dan Heng tilted his head, blinking a few times in confusion, “worried about me? Because I was sharing the room with Caelus?”

“Oh, not because of that. I’m sure you guys were getting along just fine… I was just thinking if you could sleep with all that noise coming from your room during the night.”

Dan Heng choked as those words reached him, banging his fist against his chest as he coughed, trying to catch his breath. His cheeks were already turning a little pink when he looked back at Himeko, with widened eyes. “N-noise? You… heard that?!”

“I was just passing by, don’t worry,” she chuckled at his reaction, resting her head on her hand, “but it’s good to see that you two were having fun. I never heard you laugh like that,” she added, giggling.

“L-laugh..? Oh, you- ah, I see,” he sighed, relieved, “Caelus just decided to mess with me and started tickling me. I didn’t mean to be lo-”

“Wait… what did you think I was talking about?”

“A-ahm… y-you see, it’s nothing, really,” he muttered, realizing he probably said more than he should.

[munchboxart]

I wanna talk about my top 5 musicians that I got into this year + 2 bonuses. Not one's that released this year, just ones that I found out this year.

These will be out of order since I don't want to rank them. Oh also I'll only share 1 song that's my favorite from them.

NewJeans

Ok sorry to start with a remix (If I had to choose an original, it'd be "ETA") but this is the song that introduced me to NewJeans. Apparently, I think "Super Shy" was their big trendsetting song but I haven't heard of it till now I think. I love their style so much!!

Hakushi Hasegawa

I shared a couple of his songs earlier in the year, with Doku being a standout because it sounded like Nintendo took a lot of inspiration from them for one of their Hero Mode OSTs in Splat3 (though I didn't hear about it till this year). I had a hard time choosing between Doku, Somoku and a couple other songs from Air Ni Ni (Only You, Desert and Itsukushii Hibi are one of my favorites in there), but I think Doku is such a great song as an introduction to them (Hasegawa uses they/them pronouns by the way).

MAXIMUM THE HORMONE

I... Never heard of the name "Maximum The Hormone" until this year. In-fact, the way I officially learned their band was through a Chainsaw Man chapter titled "ChuChu Lovely MuniMuni MuraMura". AND I WATCHED THE ANIME FIRST. I HAD NO IDEA THEY WERE THE ONE WHO MADE THE 3RD ED. And if we wanna go even further, I never watched Death Note, AT MOST, I'VE HEARD A SNIPPET OF THE OP, WAY LONG AFTER IT'S RELEVANCY and I still didn't know of their name. I do like all of the songs I've mentioned, but I think F is a super solid song that's also a normal song length with a good guitar solo.

Femtanyl

So I found out about Femtanyl from their biggest song titled "KATAMARI" and of course I had to listen to it because I love Katamari!! I love the Prince!! Most of their songs are super good, I considered either this one, Katamari or Push ur t3mprr. Their newest one with Danny Brown is also really good.

Sonic Coaster Pop

Spotify actually did a good thing and suggested me a really good album for once. I LOVEEE THIS ALBUM, I LOVE THAT EACH SONG TRANSITIONS TO THE NEXT ONE!! But Super Speed Pop Star is the standout one for me. IT'S SUCH A MUNCH ALBUM. I think this counts as Neo Shibuya-Kei or Electropop (correct me if I'm wrong) and I've dipped my toes a bit into it for a long while like CAPSULE, Nagisa Cosmetic (first one I was introduced into the genre) and Plus Tech Squeeze Box.

I've been wanting to find more songs like them, but I haven't been able to much, mostly because I like finding them in the wild through suggestions from the platform I'm listening on. Also, because I like a lot more of the electro styled songs rather than traditional Shibuya-Kei (which is still good!!). I'm really happy to find a new one to get into this year.

BONUS

I'm adding 2 more because one of them is a band that just came out this year or debuted really late 2023, and the other is just 1 really standout songs that I REALLY like.

ILLIT

ILLIT popped off hard for their debut(?) with Magnetic being their trendsetting song, but I like this one a lot more in their album. The reason I'm putting this as a bonus is because they only have like... 5 songs? So I can't really say if I'll get super into them but I think they're starting off really strong!

FLASHING LIGHTS/IMAGES WARNING

Special Interest – Concerning Peace (Machine Girl Remix)

FLASHING LIGHTS/IMAGES WARNING, I couldn't even share the original video because it's much worse than this one, but that aside, I really really love this song. It helps a lot that I got into Dai Dark this year and I associate this song a lot with it. I really want to do an edit one day with either Dai Dark or Dorohedoro with this song. One day... MAYBE SOON SINCE I LEARNED A BIT MORE OF VIDEO EDITING (even though it's just the very basics).

Music is something I don't really share that often or like sharing that much, though I figured I'd talk about it this year since I'm very passionate about listening to music. I've also started sharing much more music this year and it feels nice. I know some of these aren't that niche but I just learned about them this year and wanted to talk about them.