#conditioned wine cabinet

[macalaelliottphotography]

Wine Cellar - Rustic Wine Cellar Inspiration for a large, rustic wine cellar renovation with a dark wood floor and display racks

[hismourningflower]

YOU'RE NOT HER | genshin impact fanfiction. zhongli x gn!reader — heavy angst, hanahaki disease, hurt/no comfort, mentions of blood & gagging (almost vomit), death, ‘unrequited’ love

idle chatter. this is a reupload from my old blog so if you want to argue that i'm stealing, i'm literally robbing myself <3 library waiting list. @lovingluxury @dumbificat @starryshinyskies @ryuryuryuyurboat @ainescribe @bfjax @soleillunne @sangoqueenkoko

aventurine's addition. "alexi, darling, don't forget to link 'you should have been her' for the readers. it is the infamous second part, after all."

oh that man, that gorgeous, benevolent man you’d fell in love with all those moons ago; with dark hair that fades into a glowing orange, resemblant of the sunset and his own geo vision. you had fell in love, yes - you thought he had too. the thought crosses your mind whenever he’s not by your side, not within your grasp like he usually is. typically, the man was serving his job at the wangsheng funeral parlour as a consultant.

you grimace when the tight feeling in your ribcage suffocates you. it’s getting stronger as time goes on, knocking the breath right out of your lungs and leaving you hacking up blood into a white handkerchief. zhongli had expressed no ends of concern about the situation when he’d find the bloodied handkerchiefs scattered around your shared home, ushering you to doctor baizhu as soon as possible.

you had begged baizhu not to utter a word of your condition to zhongli. he returned your pleads with a sorrowful look.

how could your love be so unrequited? had you been the only one true to your word this whole time? the mere thought stings at your eyes, tears threatening to spill as you shakily wash the dishes. zhongli isn’t home, not for a few more hours. he said he had business to attend to - that meant it wasn’t work related. was he cheating? you shake the sour thought away from your head, scowling.

you wonder if the oh-so-wise man could ever read the wrinkles appearing on your skin, aging you with every passing concern that you don’t voice aloud, with every day that goes by where you’re suffocating from the inside out. he never mentions it, perhaps he simply does not care. you feel the knot in your throat, sickening as you gag and splutter into the soapy water of the sink. you keep gagging, the knot doesn’t budge and you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of nausea.

your body grows tired. you slip down to your knees, banging elbows and other limp limbs against kitchen cabinets as you go down. finally, with one last cough, the knot exits your mouth. it falls to the wood floorboards beneath you, slimy and covered in blood but undoubtedly recognised as a glaze lily. its petals are shut, you understand that there is no music, no lullaby to be heard to lull the glaze lily to bloom. it’s an ancient flower, one you always used to admire before this curse laid upon you.

the front door to your house opens, keys jingling in a specific man’s gloved hands as he enters. you hurry to throw the glaze lily out of the kitchen window, submerging your hands in the sink once more as the metallic taste of blood and lingering aftermath of a floral tang swarms your mouth. you hold your breath, hoping you didn’t have the appearance of someone who had just coughed up a flower so violently.

a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, suddenly you’re hit with the faint smell of aged wine and familiar scent of freshly dug earth. you smile at the thought, leaning back into his chest despite the pain tearing at your lungs and the burning sensation left behind in your throat.

“you’ve been coughing again—” zhongli’s voice reverberates close to your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin and your eyes raise from the dirty water to your reflection in the kitchen window, where zhongli’s warm amber eyes are staring at you so deeply.

“it’s okay, my love, i promise,” you lie through your teeth, hoping the man sincerely couldn’t read through you the way he used to, “this time it was a smaller amount than the last…”

you try to sound cheerful in your approach to the topic, careful to maintain that personality he’d apparently fell in love with one day in liyue harbour. zhongli makes a noise - is he doubting you? you watch as a gloved hand raises, nearing your face before his thumb wipes gently at a trickle of blood leading from the corner of your lips.

“i’ll speak to doctor baizhu in the morning,” zhongli states firmly, you almost bite back the words that taste bitter about him ‘caring’ for you, “perhaps you need a higher dose of your medication.”

the medication in question surely had been a ruse to fool the man, though you did not expect it to have worked. changsheng had uttered that you could not leave the bubu pharmacy without some form of medication, it’d look absurd in the eyes of the wangsheng funeral parlour consultant. in agreement, baizhu had qiqi mix violetgrass powder with sugar - the instructions were simple, mix it into the hot tea you’d drink with zhongli every evening.

it was sweet, not at all bitter and the scent of violetgrass made it bearable. apparently the inclusion of herbal properties was enough to fool your dearest partner or so you thought.

—

it’s hard to understand the fine line between a lie and a truth when the past few months, you’d been dating a man for someone whomst he was not. it was a struggle to understand the situation but it kept you up for endless nights, counting stars and tending to the numerous flora you’d planted in the garden underneath the moonlight - courtesy of your friend the traveler for appearing with so many countless seeds of blooms from across teyvat.

yet as you sit on the grass, staring at the pile of dead - and dying - glaze lilies you had acquired, the stars twinkling endlessly above you, you understood why he’d done it. he was judicious, hoping to protect you from his past yet keep you as his future. the thought made that pain in your chest tighten. you let out a futile whimper into the quiet night.

as you ponder zhongli’s status as liyue’s archon - the geo archon of all people, you begin to question your previous doubts. your breaths become struggled, your chest heaving as you lay on your back for some relief. trembling fingertips brush amongst blades of grass, hoping for a distraction as tears spill down your cheeks.

liyue is a beautiful country with vast mountains and yellowed plains that seem to stretch endlessly. its civilisation had become fruitful at the expense of liyue harbor, bustling with trade and the thing your partner had appeared to love the most; contracts. he has every right to be proud of the nation liyue had built to this day, despite claiming that he’d ultimately retired - “the people can do without me, they’ve proved that much.”

blood trickles from your mouth but it’s not gentle, it’s a rush, like a waterfall as it spills down the sides of your face and pools on the grass below you. it’s littered in an array of blue and white petals, matching that of glaze lilies - a flower you’d grown to hate. you struggle to get oxygen into your lungs with the rising level of blood that doesn’t dissipate from your parted lips, suffocating you as you try to no ends to breathe through your nose.

that is, if there was room in your lungs for such oxygen. twists and turns of branches and roots that climb to the walls of your organs, painting them with glaze lilies and filling them with fallen petals every time a flower wilts from the unreasonable conditions inside your body.

you’re proud of liyue; the magnificent, beautiful nation of geo that you got to experience in all of its glory. zhongli often times referred to liyue with feminine pronouns and as the light dies from your eyes and your chest ceases to rise, you can only think one thing with your last dying breath.

you’re not her.

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

© thexianzhoujade 2024. | reblogs appreciated | do not re-upload, copy, translate, etc. my works on any form of media.

[https-furina]

✎ you’re not her. ft. zhongli x fem!reader content. heavy angst, hanahaki disease, hurt/no comfort, mentions of blood & gagging (almost vomit), death, ‘unrequited’ love. w.c. tba.

you should have been her — part two.

oh that man, that gorgeous, benevolent man you’d fell in love with all those moons ago; with dark hair that fades into a glowing orange, resemblant of the sunset and his own geo vision. you had fell in love, yes - you thought he had too. the thought crosses your mind whenever he’s not by your side, not within your grasp like he usually is. typically, the man was serving his job at the wangsheng funeral parlour as a consultant.

you grimace when the tight feeling in your ribcage suffocates you. it’s getting stronger as time goes on, knocking the breath right out of your lungs and leaving you hacking up blood into a white handkerchief. zhongli had expressed no ends of concern about the situation when he’d find the bloodied handkerchiefs scattered around your shared home, ushering you to doctor baizhu as soon as possible.

you had begged baizhu not to utter a word of your condition to zhongli. he returned your pleads with a sorrowful look.

how could your love be so unrequited? had you been the only one true to your word this whole time? the mere thought stings at your eyes, tears threatening to spill as you shakily wash the dishes. zhongli isn’t home, not for a few more hours. he said he had business to attend to - that meant it wasn’t work related. was he cheating? you shake the sour thought away from your head, scowling.

you wonder if the oh-so-wise man could ever read the wrinkles appearing on your skin, aging you with every passing concern that you don’t voice aloud, with every day that goes by where you’re suffocating from the inside out. he never mentions it, perhaps he simply does not care. you feel the knot in your throat, sickening as you gag and splutter into the soapy water of the sink. you keep gagging, the knot doesn’t budge and you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of nausea.

your body grows tired. you slip down to your knees, banging elbows and other limp limbs against kitchen cabinets as you go down. finally, with one last cough, the knot exits your mouth. it falls to the wood floorboards beneath you, slimy and covered in blood but undoubtedly recognised as a glaze lily. its petals are shut, you understand that there is no music, no lullaby to be heard to lull the glaze lily to bloom. it’s an ancient flower, one you always used to admire before this curse laid upon you.

the front door to your house opens, keys jingling in a specific man’s gloved hands as he enters. you hurry to throw the glaze lily out of the kitchen window, submerging your hands in the sink once more as the metallic taste of blood and lingering aftermath of a floral tang swarms your mouth. you hold your breath, hoping you didn’t have the appearance of someone who had just coughed up a flower so violently.

a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, suddenly you’re hit with the faint smell of aged wine and familiar scent of freshly dug earth. you smile at the thought, leaning back into his chest despite the pain tearing at your lungs and the burning sensation left behind in your throat.

“you’ve been coughing again—” zhongli’s voice reverberates close to your ear, hot breath fanning over your skin and your eyes raise from the dirty water to your reflection in the kitchen window, where zhongli’s warm amber eyes are staring at you so deeply.

“it’s okay, my love, i promise,” you lie through your teeth, hoping the man sincerely couldn’t read through you the way he used to, “this time it was a smaller amount than the last…”

you try to sound cheerful in your approach to the topic, careful to maintain that personality he’d apparently fell in love with one day in liyue harbour. zhongli makes a noise - is he doubting you? you watch as a gloved hand raises, nearing your face before his thumb wipes gently at a trickle of blood leading from the corner of your lips.

“i’ll speak to doctor baizhu in the morning,” zhongli states firmly, you almost bite back the words that taste bitter about him ‘caring’ for you, “perhaps you need a higher dose of your medication.”

the medication in question surely had been a ruse to fool the man, though you did not expect it to have worked. changsheng had uttered that you could not leave the bubu pharmacy without some form of medication, it’d look absurd in the eyes of the wangsheng funeral parlour consultant. in agreement, baizhu had qiqi mix violetgrass powder with sugar - the instructions were simple, mix it into the hot tea you’d drink with zhongli every evening.

it was sweet, not at all bitter and the scent of violetgrass made it bearable. apparently the inclusion of herbal properties was enough to fool your dearest partner or so you thought.

—

it’s hard to understand the fine line between a lie and a truth when the past few months, you’d been dating a man for someone whomst he was not. it was a struggle to understand the situation but it kept you up for endless nights, counting stars and tending to the numerous flora you’d planted in the garden underneath the moonlight - courtesy of your friend the traveler for appearing with so many countless seeds of blooms from across teyvat.

yet as you sit on the grass, staring at the pile of dead - and dying - glaze lilies you had acquired, the stars twinkling endlessly above you, you understood why he’d done it. he was judicious, hoping to protect you from his past yet keep you as his future. the thought made that pain in your chest tighten. you let out a futile whimper into the quiet night.

as you ponder zhongli’s status as liyue’s archon - the geo archon of all people, you begin to question your previous doubts. your breaths become struggled, your chest heaving as you lay on your back for some relief. trembling fingertips brush amongst blades of grass, hoping for a distraction as tears spill down your cheeks.

liyue is a beautiful country with vast mountains and yellowed plains that seem to stretch endlessly. its civilisation had become fruitful at the expense of liyue harbor, bustling with trade and the thing your partner had appeared to love the most; contracts. he has every right to be proud of the nation liyue had built to this day, despite claiming that he’d ultimately retired - “the people can do without me, they’ve proved that much.”

blood trickles from your mouth but it’s not gentle, it’s a rush, like a waterfall as it spills down the sides of your face and pools on the grass below you. it’s littered in an array of blue and white petals, matching that of glaze lilies - a flower you’d grown to hate. you struggle to get oxygen into your lungs with the rising level of blood that doesn’t dissipate from your parted lips, suffocating you as you try to no ends to breathe through your nose.

that is, if there was room in your lungs for such oxygen. twists and turns of branches and roots that climb to the walls of your organs, painting them with glaze lilies and filling them with fallen petals every time a flower wilts from the unreasonable conditions inside your body.

you’re proud of liyue; the magnificent, beautiful nation of geo that you got to experience in all of its glory. zhongli often times referred to liyue with feminine pronouns and as the light dies from your eyes and your chest ceases to rise, you can only think one thing with your last dying breath.

you’re not her.

© https-furina 2023.

[carmesi-butterfly]

hi!! i have this noncon to dubcon request wherein meandom!ricky is the son of your boss, and reader is his mom’s new housekeeper. reader accidentally drops one of the most expensive wines in the shen household (due to ricky intentionally pushing her), and ricky threatens her that he would tell his mom, to get her fired, but he then tells her that he won’t have her fired under one condition and that is to let him fuck her, and use her like a cumdump.

and also, can i be 🍄 anon? thank you!

meandom ricky + fem! reader. word count 1,5k. warnings noncon to dubcon, degrading, abuse. not proofread. a/n: hi! i'm gonna try doing the asks more seriously like this time more often (if i feel like it ofc), if i feel like doing something simple i will be using the format i'm already using. also i feel like i added too much intro and a poor amount of smut, sorry anon ㅠㅠ i may do a part two of this because i loved your idea! welcome to the family 🍄 <3

your stay at the shen household was an average experience as a housekeeper, maybe too many hours but that's compensated with a high salary, nice food, and good clothing for doing your labor without having to use your own clothes. the only problem was the son of the house, shen ricky, a young man with unbelievable beauty, sharp features that made him look like a god in the eyes of a normal person like you, and a devilish aura accompanied by a small grin that was always set at the minimal hint of your presence near him.

instantly as you got into that house ricky started to molest you, it started with a few glances at your chest and ass when you were in a “suggestive position” while doing your labor, he didn't even try to hide how he was looking at you like a jewel exposed in an exhibition, free to everybody to look at, things escalated quickly to the point of him touching you shamelessly, squeezing your boobs and bottom tightly while whispering all the things he would do to you, making you feel humiliated and helpless, the last straw was today’s incident at the kitchen, as a housekeeper you were doing your usual job, leaving everything clean and tidy for the shen family, mrs. shen asked you personally to clean and organize their wine collection for a special dinner they will have soon.

after accommodating the majority of the beverage there was only one left, a beautiful bottle with an eccentric decoration, adorned by gold leaves and letters of the same color on the tag, it was probably the most expensive drink among all the others and the most important one for the event, your assignment was about to be done but the blonde guy appeared in the room, driving your nerves to their highest point only with his presence.

“my mother asked you to do this?” initiated the conversation, getting close to you slowly.

“u-uhm, yes” your answer reflected discomfort, “it's for the dinner meeting…” your responses were brief, trying to avoid a possible next conversation but not trying to be too dry because he's your boss, your earnings depend on him.

“i see” his short reply relaxed you a little bit, you supposed that he wasn't in the mood for a longer conversation and you were perfect with that, as far as you stayed from him the better.

sadly, your assumption was wrong and the chinese boy was just waiting for a moment of distraction on your side, the moment that came when the last bottle of wine had to be kept on the drinks cabinet, as soon as you turned around with the fragile object in hand ricky went direct to your back and pushed you, this was enough for you to fall, the wine slipped out of your hands and ended up colliding on the floor in front of you. the only response that came out of your body was your hands covering your mouth as a sign of surprise, your throat started to hurt as you tried to suppress the tears, a stupid “mistake” like this is going to cost you your job and probably the future ones, working as a housekeeper depends a lot on the recommendations people give to their acquaintances, you think the shen family is going to recommend you after this? of course not, even if you're not at fault in this situation, who is going to believe the humble servant over the son of the family? no one.

“look at what you've done,” pointed out, bending down on your side while looking at the mess he created, “do you think my mother will get you fired for this?” said with a smile.

you turned up to him with an anxious stare, your heart started to beat faster, and the big amount of tears you were saving came out like a waterfall, “don't tell her, i will make it up, clean everything! you don't have to pay me, please just don't fire me” your desperate cries weren't more than a sweet melody to his ears who were pleased to hear it, and craved for more.

“hm… let's have an agreement then” the opportunity of having something as an agreement with the youngest of the shen in a way to preserve your job was risky, especially knowing the kind of behavior he had with you before, but losing your employment wasn't an option you could take right now. “i will take the blame for this,” started, his index finger pointing to the broken wine, “but you have to let me do to you whatever i want, that's the only condition i ask you, you know what i mean by that, right?” it could be confusing for others, but you knew exactly what he was asking for and were willing to give him everything to maintain your job.

“okay, i accept…” you said the words that sealed your contract with the devil and were aware of that. more tears slide down your face knowing what is coming next for you, an act that ricky enjoyed profusely.

“don't cry, you will enjoy it” demanded, his hand grabbed brusquely your hand and made you face him, “clean this mess and go to my room, don't take much time or things will get worse for you” with those words he left the space, leaving you in a spiral of chaos and conflictive emotions.

your face being forced into the pillow absorbed the tears and silenced all the moans, groans, cries, and everything that could come out of your mouth at this moment. roughly, ricky pulled your hair driving your head up, near his so you could hear him better.

“i told you would enjoy it,” bragged, his dick slamming harder into your pussy, the impact of the amount of strength he was using made the clapping sound in the room louder, acting more desperate as a signal of his orgasm being closer.

your mind didn't agree with that, his touch on your skin felt nauseating like if you were about to vomit every time he brushed his fingers over you, but your body said the opposite, your legs trembling, your clit palpitating and your cunt clenching at every thrust while your mouth was drooling leaving a trace of saliva on your face and pillowcase, your mind dizzy with all the pleasure even if ricky was just beginning this torture.

“i already fucked you dumb but we just started, let's see how much you can last” his thurst followed the same fast but steady pace, “we won't stop until you're dripping my cum, yes?” asked you, as if your opinion were important or worth of consideration for him. his last words were an advance of what was about to happen, acting as a premonition that became true, with a last shove of his dick into your pussy the young man had his first orgasm of the night, cumming inside and holding you tight restricting your movements, his mouth biting your shoulder fighting the moans that wanted to be free. for you, this was more than humiliating, but the cumshot was so strong, it hit your interiors and filled you so deliciously that provoked your climax too, causing a strong reaction in your body that never went through a phenomenon as strong as this, the pillow helped to muffle your loud moans whilst your whole physique trembled like gelatin.

the position was changed quickly by ricky, who now had you in a mating press, his cock not leaving your cunt even when he turned you around without any difficulties like a puppet, he didn't want any of his semen leaking out of you until the end of the act. after taking a few inhalations trying to regularize his breath a bestial motion started, his whole dick coming in and out of your pussy hitting your cervix in a way that made you cry, your mouth could merely release stuttering at every shove, you completely lost the ability to speak of how good he was fucking you, even if your hole was so abused by ricky’s dick that it felt like burning or your nipples and clit being so sensitive because of the overstimulation that they react to the most minimum brush, it hurt and at this point of being fucked so dumb you can't think if you like it or not.

by the end of the action, you can't even recall an estimated number of times you've finished, it's safe to say that you probably passed out too, and didn't notice, it's not like ricky cares so you probably fainted and he continued fucking you… but that's okay because his mission was completed! having you filled up to the brim of his seed, cunt so full of it that at the moment you got up to dress it started dripping out and sliding through your legs, which got the mean boy mad and he had no more option than to masturbate you, using his delicate and slender fingers to maintain everything inside while a few insults and degrading words were said, that hurt your ego but hey, you need to accustom to it if you want to keep your job.

[gothicminxx]

Satosugu x afab! Reader

Word count: 5.2K

CW: Angst with comfort, mentions of blood, major character death, polyamory, mentions of established relationship with Gojo, pet names (angel, pretty girl, my girl, sweet girl, etc.), instead of Y/N Name will be used instead, all around sad af

Part 2 here

Summary: Has a connection to the movie JJK 0, similar but not quite.

I think of Satosugu and I sob.

Hope you enjoy!

Twilight arrived over the horizon, painting the sky of soft purples mixed with pink and blue. Mountain tops capped off with sheets of white that sparkled underneath the setting sun. Silence loomed overhead with the subtle sounds of a breeze, the air crisp with a harsh bite. The grass is glacial from the previous snowfall a few hours ago.

But the world was covered in darkness as the giant hand that pertained to Satoru lay flatly over your eyes, sitting in between his legs on a rock. A habit that he had formed in recent years to mollify the bitter head of anxiety that crippled your body. When the thoughts began to race and the hammering of your heart refused to disperse from your side, Satoru placed his hand over your eyes. The rasp of his voice tickled your ear as he requested you focus, following his deep breaths, and hushed praises for succeeding. When the dark silence consumed the crevices of your brain it pacified the cavernous void that Suguru left behind. The reason for every apprehensive thought that consumed the confinements of your brain. A gaping hole resided in the depths of your pumping heart, one he had overfilled before-- a spilling pool of red wine: warm, gentle, and welcoming, the essence of pertaining to two lovers.

Satoru shared the absence of light with you simply by covering your eyes. He wore blindfolds to protect his six eyes, to keep the core of his energy balanced so as to not fatigue himself, he experienced the bliss of darkness daily listening to the calmness of his breath, the steadiness of his heart, and the sounds of his surroundings. It was peaceful when things seemed to spiral out of control, tensions at an all time high giving Satoru that moment to ease his mind. It was the only thing he could think to do to alleviate the strain of life that gnawed at you constantly like a tender cut of meat.

The coolness of this year's harsh winter stung your cheeks, penetrating at the surface to numb your whole face. You placed your hands on top of Satoru’s, holding it in place to increase the darkness, focusing on the environment you found yourself in. Snow that the wind carried tickled your skin, dampening it slightly as the flakes melted. The comfort of your puffy jacket and beanie kept you toasty to endure the frozen conditions, but in this very moment the cold brought you solace as you embraced the blackness. You could feel the warmth of Satoru’s chest radiate into your back like a warm blanket, the breeze that blew on the side of your face howled softly, swooshing of powdered snowflakes followed. The plateau you and Satoru sat in was desolate of noise, it calmed the erratic beat of your heart and soothed the harrowing thoughts in your mind.

Since Suguru’s impetuous departure from the both of you things had been difficult, words left unsaid with various questions that had gone unanswered. An empty spot on the bed that used to belong to him had now turned cold and desperately clung onto his scent, you and Satoru had found yourselves leaving that space open, as if he’d ever walk through the front door again and reclaim the life he once had. His hoodies still hung up in the closet, his toothbrush still had a spot in the holder, boxes of his favorite tea littered the cabinet-- you preferred coffee, and Satoru liked soda. Suguru’s things were left untouched in your home, things he left behind, and things you and Satoru held onto tightly; protecting the last bit of residue on those items.

Satoru snaked his free arm around, pressing his palm flatly against your abdomen, fingertips caressing the polyester fabric of the puffer jacket that adorned your frame. He gently removed his hand from your eyes as he felt you relax in his hold, leaning forward to rest his chin against your shoulder. The world had come back into your view, the sky had become a darker shade of blue accompanied by a few stars that twinkled. The sun had fully hid behind the snowy mountain range taking away the last bit of warmth it had offered in the winter months. Satoru had insisted on taking you far from the city today despite the ice on the roads, the sunken bags underneath your eyes had prompted worry that he could not ignore. You were the only thing keeping him sane since Suguru had left, Satoru had grown petrified of losing you too. He could sense the ugly cloud of melancholy looming over your head, the way you slouched at the kitchen table-- barely touching the food on your plate, a frown etched on your lips, and tears left to dry on your cheeks. The way you stared at Suguru’s spot in bed wearing one of his hoodies, the yearning and agony you felt all too evident to him that he had to get you away from home for a few hours.

He had always been better at tucking away his emotions so as to not worry you. But Satoru felt the same agony, the cavernous hole in his heart that felt as though a knife had stabbed through and ripped a chunk out. The bile that burned the back of his throat and left a bitter taste that it didn’t matter how many times he brushed his teeth; it remained. That each time he smelled Jasmine or cedar wood he immediately burst into tears, teeth piercing his bottom lip as he tried to mollify the dreary emotions that raked his body. Oftentimes he found himself wearing Suguru’s clothes, wrapping his arms around his own body and pretending as though it was Suguru comforting him. Satoru grieved the relationship that once was, in silence, wanting to be strong for you, the most precious thing in his life. You needed Satoru more than anything in moments where you barely found the strength to get out of bed. When anxiety consumed you like the last meal on earth, he had to be strong for you.

Placing a kiss to your cold cheek Satoru hummed, “You calm now, angel?” He held you tighter in his embrace, shutting his eyes to engrave every curve of your body, the warmth you provided as you sat in between his legs, and your scent. The trepidation he felt of losing you too was one that made him lose his appetite.

Leaning your head back on his shoulder, your eyes followed the depth of the night sky, each star glimmering like a diamond. With the darkness the cold in the plateau stung your face, your nose runny and icy to the touch, but you could only focus on Satoru’s arms, “Yes, shutting out the world always seems to help,” A small smile reached your lips, “Thank you.”

Intertwining your gloved hands together he brought the back to his lips placing a kiss there making your heart flutter. Since Suguru deserted his lovers, through the agony and stabbing wound in one's heart, you still had Satoru. The six eyes refused to leave your side even for a moment, clinging onto you as a sort of life support.

The anguish was evident in his cerulean eyes, deep purple bags had found their home under his eyes, hidden under a blindfold so as to not worry his students— to worry you. Even if a part of his heart clung onto the memory of Suguru, the rest was yours. Glowing sun of warmth that caressed his cheek, holding him tightly to always feel the ardor of your heart. Lulling the anxiety he felt with lingering kisses, fingers tangled in snowy white tuffs, and the sound of your sweet voice covered in honey— speaking saccharine words.

Even if he tried to hide from you, keeping his emotions tucked away in a metal safe— you knew, of course you saw right through him. Having the privilege of meeting Satoru Gojo years ago meant understanding every single emotion he felt. A strong intuition to sense when something was off, he never truly spoke about it, only on the rare occasion of dawn drawing near, his eyes half lidded, and voice coaxed of sleep that he spoke— tired of the torment of a racing mind. You would hold him tightly in your arms, resting your chin on his hair as he sobbed into your chest, allowing his emotions to ripple like a waterfall. He was yours, you wanted to be there as much as he was there for you.

His giant hand cupped your cheek, leading your lips to his. The kiss was gentle, slow, and filled with love, Satoru’s tongue was warm as it found yours, eager to taste more of you to have more of you— he couldn’t get enough. He held you tight, pressing against your abdomen as it bunched up the polyester fabric in between his fingers. His thumb caressing your cheekbone, kissing you was a piece of heaven; Satoru’s sanctuary. The way his lips connected to yours reminded him that you were perfect for him in every sense of the way. That you were still here with him.

Satoru pulled away, resting his forehead against yours to catch his breath. His eyes remained closed but a goofy smile was ever present, his heart thudding loudly he truly believed you could hear it, light pink dusted his pale skin, “My girl. Mine.” He murmured, attaching his lips to yours once more.

It was moments like these that you truly cherished, engraving his every word into your brain like a chanted prayer. Satoru was here to stay, he could not imagine parting from you; it wasn’t possible.

Together you grieved Suguru, the fallen angel that had big aspirations of changing the world for the better. Ideals that you could not see eye to eye on, the raven haired man swore up and down it was a world for his lovers. Even if it seemed selfish at the time he would burn down the entire world for you and Satoru. If it had meant taking the life of the innocent— the weak, for those he loved, he’d do it over and over again. But the question had always remained: Would either of you do the same?

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The sun blazed down on the asphalt in a persistent manner, the heat waves radiated off of the dark pavement that burned the soles of shoes. Summer was unforgiving this year, humid and sickly that shade did little to provide an escape. The metal bleachers burned to the touch from constant heat smacking against them, the grass seemed as the only comforting place to sit underneath a Japanese cedar tree. Strands of green sticking to your thighs that you regretted wearing a skirt, almost.

First grade Jujutsu students practiced their combat skill in the enormous field, sweat dripping down their faces after an hour of intense training. The new student Yuta Okkotsu showed promise— improving his cursed energy little by little. Satoru had taken a liking to him, a powerful curse that followed him around— killing those that harmed him without a second glance. Your husband had a soft spot for teenagers that had a tough life, a man that could come off as arrogant had a huge heart. A few weeks ago Satoru had come to you, announcing he would be pleading Yuta’s case to avoid an execution even if it meant losing his job. You could never argue with him, standing next to him as you petitioned for the young boy as well.

Training had gone as any other day, students complaining about the heat but refusing to go inside— each competitive. Satoru stood with Yaga on the far end of the field coaching Maki and Yuta, while you and Shoko sat under a tree watching over Toge and Panda. The smell of tobacco wafted into your nostrils as Shoko lit up another cigarette, stating it would help with her irritation as she wiped sweat from her brow. Your fingers found the roots of grass to slowly pick at it, a distraction from the unbearable heat that made your body feel as if it would combust into flames.

Leaning back on your elbows you sighed loudly, throwing your head back further into the shade to look at the intricate leaves— hiding from the wretched sun. “How much longer are we going to torture the students in this goddamn heat?” Shoko groaned beside you.

“‘Dunno, until one of us drives Yaga up the wall with our complaining.” You chuckled, “Knowing Satoru I’d say soon.”

Due to Satoru being born in the winter season the six eyes preferred the cold and icy snow over the blistering heat. He thrived at the first snowfall, dragging you out of the warmth of your cozy bed to admire the sheet of white. His long legs would race to the backyard without the proper clothing to handle the freezing temperatures, slender fingers grabbing a handful of snow to feel the cool softness on his flesh. He’d spend a few hours outside admiring it with childlike wonder, you would oftentimes fight him to come inside as if he were a husky— stubborn and flourishing in the snow. It wouldn’t surprise you if your husband was currently throwing a fit about the sweltering heat to Yaga.

Booming voices ricocheted from the trees in the field, snapping you out of your thoughts. Shoko’s ears perched giving you a confused glance as she licked her finger to put out her cigarette, “What could that be?” She wondered.

Together you stood, requesting Toge and Panda to follow along in case it happened to be something serious. Sweat decorated your brow as the impending heat found you, raising the temperature within the confinements of your body. In the distance a large bird bigger than a human flapped its wings, the radiant golden color catching in the sun, throwing its head back to emit a loud squawk from its enormous beak. Bodies of students surrounded the creature, tuffs of milky white hair came into view as his tall lanky figure pushed past bodies. From where you walked you could see the tension in his shoulders, jaw clenched, and fists white-- something was wrong.

The length of your legs began to take lager hurried strides, loud pounding rang in your ears from the erratic beating of your heart. Heads turned as you drew closer, wandering eyes with a look of confusion stared back at you, “Satoru, long time no see!” A silky voice called, sweet like honey, a soft melody to listen to. A voice that closed up your throat, heart dropping to the depths of your stomach, eyes stinging with ocean water because it had been so long since you had heard it. The voice that comforted you when a tough day crossed your path, made you laugh until you cried, talked you through it in moments of ecstasy, and spoke sweet nothings to you.

As you pushed your way into the circle Satoru stood taut, a white blindfold covered his cerulean eyes, expression hard to read but his tight jaw spoke for him. You followed his gaze, time had frozen still as long raven hair met your eyes, glistening in the light of the sun. A smile adorned his features as he greeted Satoru with an arm around Yuta’s shoulder, he had yet to notice you. It had been nearly a decade since you had seen the familiar face, had him in close radius. “Suguru?” Your voice barely above a whisper, cracking pathetically towards the end.

His attention drifted towards you, “Name, it’s been a while.” The smile he wore faded the moment brown eyes truly caught a glimpse of you, the sight nearly broke his heart. You looked on the verge of tears, the yearning to run into his arms was evident as your hand blindly reached out-- but you held back, taking a hold of Satoru’s sleeve too paralyzed to move. The white haired man placed a protective arm on your waist as if to challenge Suguru to take a step further to either of you. But in truth Satoru would break down if given the opportunity, trying his best to remain strong, to come off as intimidating to the man that ripped his heart open; you both knew this.

“Step away from those kids right now, Suguru.” Satoru’s voice held a stern edge, the man in front of him was the only one that could affect the usual confident demeanor he had.

Suguru held back a smirk as he slowly removed his arm from Yuta, “ I heard the first years were quite special, it seems you still have an eye for talent, Satoru.”

Your gaze was fixed on the raven haired man, it felt like a sick joke, one that your mind deemed fit as a punishment for past mistakes you had once made. He looked different than before, his hair was much longer, reaching his waist. The purple eye bags and look of misery that had become a part of him almost a decade ago had disappeared, his skin practically glowing, he looked happier-- cockier than the man you once knew. You wanted to be as calm as Satoru, to appear stoic and un-bothered but the air felt heavy, the lump in your throat had formed so thick that it was nearly impossible to swallow back. For a decade you still found yourself grieving his sudden departure, the closure he had refused to give you and Satoru, leaving nothing behind but memories and a freezing empty spot in bed. “What are you doing here?” You asked, voice hostile yet the sense of longing was still there.

He tore his gaze from Satoru avoiding your watery eyes over to his entourage, “I came to declare war,” Suguru put it simply, “Five days from now I’ll be in Kyoto, I hope to see you all there.”

“A war?” Shoko scoffed, “Your ideals truly have gone to your head.”

“I’m simply creating a better world.” Suguru’s words left a bitter taste in your mouth, like rusty metal that had sat out in the sun long forgotten for an extended period of time. He no longer sounded like himself, his voice remained velvety and yet, the disconnect of the man he used to be was immense. It had brought you back to the time you were once a student, noticing his distant demeanor with hazy eyes that he looked unrecognizable. He closed in on himself, shutting you and Satoru out. Most nights had been spent sleeping on the couch or too wired as he stayed up an entire night frantically scribbling gibberish in his journal-- ideas to cleanse the world of the weak. He refused the assistance of the comforting arms of his lovers, rejecting their words of reassurance. Suguru had lost a drastic amount of weight, the churning of his stomach accompanied by a burning in his throat that kept him away from consuming food. He had become a shell of himself until one day his radio silence became permanent; leaving his lovers to fend for themselves without another word.

Only for him to return months later in the crowded square of downtown Tokyo claiming that it was all for his lovers. The world he was creating was the perfect one for those he cared about, asking to accompany him in the journey of discovering it together, only to be met by your tears and Satoru’s anger. It was the irreparable end of a relationship.

Biting your bottom lip harshly, you could taste the tang of metallic blood on your tongue, holding Satoru’s sleeve tighter, only for the milky haired man to search for your hand to intertwine your fingers-- squeezing it tightly, he could feel your agony, resentment, and pining. Focusing on his features, you wanted to burn them into your memory, hold them close to your heart because you would be damned if you forgot his face, “I think it’s time for you to go, Suguru.” You muttered, digging your nails into the palm of your hand imprinting crescent moons in the flesh; fighting back the tears that threatened to spill as you urged the man that still owned half of your heart to go.

Silence loomed overhead as Suguru processed the words that escaped your lips; soft that he almost missed them, how desperately he wanted to ignore them to take you and Satoru in his arms and make things better. The version of him you had known before was gone, that man was no longer a part of who he truly was, the weak and strong simply could not co-exist. Why couldn’t either of you understand that for his own selfish reasons, this was all for you? He turned on his heel, sauntering over to the enormous bird, only turning his head enough to catch a glimpse of the two people he adored the most, “I’ll see you in Kyoto. Until next time.” With that the creature expanded its wings, descending in the air with the man that still held onto your hearts.

Satoru watched as the massive bird disappeared into nothingness, the stitches in his heart that had once existed ripped open-- crimson blood gushing out, the ache unbearable. Holding your smaller hand tightly he began to walk toward the direction of his classroom, a small sob escaped your lips before you tried your best to hide it but he had heard it. The tall man stopped, only to see your pretty face covered in fat tears with quivering lips as you tried to fight off dramatic sobs. “Oh, my sweet girl.” Satoru cooed, bending down to envelope you in his arms. His large hand cupped the back of your head, stroking your hair as he held you tightly. He buried his nose in your hair, a small tear falling from his own eye but he was quick to wipe it.

“I- I miss him,‘Toru,” You choked out,“So much.”

“Me too, angel, me too.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩

Dark gray clouds covered the sky, leaving Kyoto in complete darkness. The sounds of war engulfed the city with crumbling buildings, destroyed vehicles, and thick clouds of smoke from small fires that had started. The perfect distraction Suguru had created to get to Yuta, it hadn’t registered in your minds that it had been his plan to get everyone away from the vicinity of Jujutsu High School.

You stood in a medical building to assist in healing those injured alongside Shoko, gifted the same ability of reversed curse technique with the upper hand of bringing those back from the dead on rare occasions. A skill you had spent most of your life trying to achieve, it had only been possible with the help of Tengen and Satoru. The consequences of cheating death had yet to show themselves to you, bringing back countless from watery graves— a draining task that consumed most of your cursed energy for a few days, it wasn’t used often.

Crouching over a severely injured fourth grade student the grand glass door of the building opened, as footsteps scrambled to deliver another injured student you felt the familiar cursed energy of your husband. “I have to go back to Jujutsu High, he set this whole thing up. Suguru is after Yuta.” He stated, gritting his teeth.

“I’m coming with you.” The urgency in your voice was hard to miss.

Satoru could only shake his head, holding his hand up to stop you from coming any closer to him, “No, it’s too dangerous, Name. Stay here and treat the wounded.”

He was always overprotective of you, your safety had always been the six eyes priority only growing ten fold the moment Suguru abandoned the both of you. You understood, but at the same time you weren’t weak, classified as a special grade two weeks after attending school. Training day in and day out when it came to combat, craving to be as perfect as Satoru and Suguru— the two strongest sorcerers. “I don’t care! I’m going with you and that’s final.” You had always been stubborn, constantly standing your ground and refusing any form of rejection when it came to proving yourself. It was a trait Satoru adored about you, but oftentimes it drove him crazy with worry, he knew you were strong but you were the last person he had besides Megumi.

Determination painted your features, clenching your fists at your side to show Satoru you weren’t going to give up. He couldn’t argue with his beautiful wife, especially with the way you looked at him as if you would follow him to the ends of the Earth. “So stubborn.” He huffed, taking your hand before teleporting the both of you to Jujutsu High.

It was silent the moment you arrived on campus grounds the smell of burnt wood wafted in the air as you walked hand in hand. A knot formed in your gut as if it were signaling you that something had gone terribly wrong, it made you tighten your hold on Satoru’s hand. The silence was deafening as the residue of a previous battle remained in the air and grubble of buildings.

Turning the corner of vacant buildings, you could see a figure in the distance covered in crimson liquid, missing a limb, long raven hair a disheveled mess as his signature bun had come undone, “You guys are late as usual.” Suguru weakly chuckled, clutching his side.

“The students in Kyoto were under your control?” Satoru asked, though he held no confusion, you both knew the answer.

Suguru leaned back on a cement wall letting out a ragged breath, “Yes, they all were.”

Letting go of Satoru’s hand you couldn’t care less about the things Suguru had done, the misery he caused when he disappeared, or even those he hurt. Your vision became blurry with tears as you took in his condition, bloodied and bruised as he struggled to maintain a steady breath. You could not bear to listen to much more, this time you had allowed yourself to run to Suguru as you had longed since seeing him on school grounds five days ago. Not giving Satoru a moment to think as he watches your figure bolt for the raven haired man.

Kneeling in front of him your arms wrapped around his neck bringing his body close to yours, without hesitation he wrapped his arm around your waist burying his bloodied face in your neck. The smell of jasmine and cedarwood welcomed you, the scent that had always belonged to him, the one that caused a sob to escape your lips. “You idiot.” You cried into his hair, clutching him tightly, afraid to let go and discover that he was a figment of your imagination.

You were warm, skin silky soft— he had forgotten how good it felt to have you in his arms, if he was being honest with himself he had forgotten your scent, how sweet and delicate it was. “There’s my sweet girl.” Suguru croaked, after a decade of pushing away the hurt he caused himself for leaving, was finally flooding out. Trembling as he hugged you tightly, burning your scent, curves, and hair into his memory. A treasure he’d lock up and guard with his entire being.

“I can fix it, let me fix it… let me heal you.” You begged, cupping his cheeks, blood staining your hands.

“Name, you can’t.” Satoru whispered, tilting his head down.

“What?! No, I'm going to fix h-“

Before you could finish your sentence Suguru took your hand, placing a kiss to the back of it, “It’s for the best, angel.”

You shook your head frantically, sobbing loudly as you looked between Satoru and Suguru, begging to not allow it to end this way. Burying your face in Suguru’s neck, closing your eyes as if to wish to wake up from this nightmare. To wake in your huge bed with them on either side of you, each wrapped around you as they slept soundly. The harsh cold breeze flowing in through your window as it snowed outside, dreading the moment Satoru woke up because he’d drag the two of you outside. Wanting a life back that once was, when Suguru was content with the things he had, when the two of you were enough for him, just one more time.

Suguru grabbed your hand, swaying your two bodies together. Noticing the rays of sunshine bouncing off of a rather large diamond on your finger nearly blinding him, he took a moment to admire it, chuckling bitterly as a wave of jealousy flooded over him. “My love’s got married.” Suguru could only blame himself for abandoning you both, envious he wouldn’t be able to share the Gojo last name with the both of you. A part of him was truly happy for you two, moving on after his selfish act. It wouldn’t have been fair to request either of you to remain stagnant.

“In October two years ago.” Satoru smiled sadly, twiddling with the diamond band on his ring finger. Proud to call you his wife, to be the one to take care of you and cherish moments spent together. It hurt that Suguru couldn’t be a part of it.

“I can fix you… then… then we can try to mend everything. Sugu please.” You choked.

But the decision had been made for you, the conclusion that Suguru was on death’s doorstep had become destiny in the moment. Your pleas and cries went unanswered even if it pained both of the men to cause such agony for you. In the end Suguru no longer had the ability to change, too stuck in his ideals to let them go. “I still love you.” You weeped.

Suguru’s heart sank at your words, even after the crimes he had commited and the torture he had put you through your emotions remained in tact, “I love you too.” The raven haired man kisses your temple, “and I love you, ‘Toru.”

A few tears had finally escaped his cerulean eyes, “I love you too… I’m sorry.”

A flash of purple came into your peripheral vision, the ringing in your ears was painful. Time had slowed as Suguru’s muscular body fell limp in your arms, the look of horror on your face was one that Satoru would remember forever. A loud scream erupted from your lungs that it felt as though they’d rip open at the seams, oxygen became impossible to inhale as you wailed out to the sky clutching his lifeless body in your arms. “No! No, ‘Toru… no. Suguru please,” The only thing you could muster was to beg and wail, preparing to use the entirety of your cursed energy to bring back your dead lover.

But Satoru pulled you away before you could do anything, holding your flailing body in his arms as he howled alongside you. He would hold onto this guilt for the rest of his life, ripping Suguru away from your lives as he meant nothing when he was everything would tear him to shreds. Suguru had perished by his own hands, he felt like a monster. All he could do was throw you over his shoulder and listen to the heart wrenching wails that left you as he dragged you away from Suguru.

He’d never forgive himself.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[lvlyghost]

Half My Soul

Pairings: John Price x F!Reader

Summary: No one is supposed to be at the compound. But after a visit turns into hell, John finds you there.

Word Count: 1.1k

Tw: blood, angst, hurt with a lot of comfort. john is literally the best. description of injuries and violence. domestic abuse(? also daddy issues(??? think that's it.💫

A/N: Hmm, so this was supposed to be longer but ended up scrapping a lot of it while editing lolol. Enjoy🫡🌸🤍🩵

Masterlist✨ Part 2

It's not the physical pain what hurts the most. Not the busted lip, the purple eye or the scratches on your arms.

It's the reminder of the person who caused it. The eyes of the man who was supposed to look after you, to shield you from the bad people.

The man who was supposed to protect you. Eyes void of any kind of remorse. Hurtful words spat when you tried to help him.

You're soaking wet by the time you reach the infirmary. The whole compound is silent. Nobody's supposed to be here. The lightning illuminated the night sky through the window as you rummage around looking for bandages and painkillers, anything you can use to fix your deplorable condition. You use the sleeve of your hoodie to clean your face from your tear stained cheeks, the fabric becoming a shade of crimson red thanks to the blood sliding down from the tiny graze on your temple.

"This is what you get for trying to help him."

You scold yourself, more salty tears pricking at the side of your eyes.

You should've stayed with John when he asked you. Go to his apartment and spend the night with a nice supper and a bottle of wine. Choking down a cry you slam the cabinet door shut, wincing at the sound of glass as it almost shattered.

You swore this would be the last time you'd go. Never again will you set a foot back into that god forsaken house; your house. The place that once felt like a home when your mother was still around. Cooking breakfast for you with a weak smile, struggling to move around due to her illness. Fuck, you missed her so much it hurt. Your lips quiver at the thought of her; life would be so much better if she was here.

For all that it matters now. You have no one left. Not a single person who dreams of your success. That you will accomplish everything you once told her about when she was tucking you into bed.

"Craig said not everyone had left. Thought he was finally starting to lose his mind."

Your body freezes at the sound of a thick accent and a raspy voice. Your hands start shaking. Don't look back. Don't. Don't do it. He'll know something is wrong. "What're you doing here, love?" He asks. You can hear him shuffling his weight from one foot to another, the sound of keys jingling as he plays with them in a nervous manner. Not many people had that effect on him; making him blush and stammer, laughing like some young boy who just discovered what love is. You made him weak at the knees. When you don't answer nor turn to look at him he worries. Was he bothering you? Was he overstepping your boundaries?

"Jus' grabbing some stuff." You croak out. Hoping you don't sound as bad as you're feeling.

John hums as the silence settles in between the two again. Why weren't you looking at him?

"Are you sick?" He tries again, swallowing down saliva. He shouldn't have invited you to spend the holidays with him it was probably too much! Bloody hell. "Could you..." his mouth snaps shut. Jaw clenching and hands balling into fists, his heart begins to race when he finally sees it. The blood stained sleeve of your hoodie. That's it.

What the fuck is going on?

It takes him three long strides and he's right beside you, grabbing your arm as gently as he can. Shocked you jolt back, blue eyes meeting your scared orbs. His baby blues sparked with anger, something you had never seen before.

"John..." you gasped.

"Who did this?" He snarled. His hand go to cup your cheeks so delicately that your entire body sags. The contrast between his calloused hands and the ones that hurt you is great. "It was him, wasn't he?" He hisses. "Fuck, love why did you have to go..."

"He's my father John." You murmur, arms coming to rest on his sides. Your face is numb and it hurts.

"Don't care a single bit, sweetheart. I'll fucking kill him, you hear me? He's bloody stupid if he thinks he can lay a hand on you and not face the consequences."

"Stop, don't... just hold me." You beg, pressing your face against his hardened chest. The warmth that he exudes is calming and comforting, you inhale deeply while he murmurs sweet things in your ear.

John loathed the man with all his being. Hurting such a beautiful creature like you? How dare he? He's beyond pissed; if it weren't for you holding onto him like there was nothing else he'd be on his way to kick his arse.

"Let me take care of you, yeah?" He mumbles. "We'll go to my apartment. Bloody have that takeout and red wine I promised." You nod, letting him go although reluctantly. He hoists you up on the bed. "Now I'm not the doctor here love, guide me through it would ya'?"

A soft chuckle leaves your mouth, a sound John adores. He never wants to see you like this again. You getting hurt? He'd rather peel his skin off than to see you all beaten and hurting. He cleans your lip, gritting his teeth when you hiss at the touch.

"Don't let me sleep okay?" You ask him, when he's done an tossing everything to the trash bin.

John's brows furrow.

"You have a concussion?"

"Most likely." You stand up grabbing the painkillers. "Probably gonna have to pass with the wine this time Price." Your left eye's starting to swell. "Must look beautiful right now huh?" You joke.

"Hey." He stops you. "None of that." John is dead serious, he doesn't take any of this lightly. "Maybe you let this pass before sweetheart, but not now. Not when I'm here yeah? Not on my bloody watch. Let's get you home."

You exit the infirmary with the bear of a man guiding you outside and towards his vehicle, prompting you to get rid of the stained hoodie and taking his leather jacket instead. It smells like him. Like cigarettes and musk.

And he places a soft kiss atop of your head. God if he could make all the pain go away he'd be more than happy to do it. Whatever it took to make you feel safe.

To be safe.

Because maybe now, home would be a different place. And have a different meaning.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Anyone for a double dome home that looks like twin igloos? Look, there's even a little one for the doggo. The 1985 build was well-cared for, is in Melbourne, Florida, has 3bds, 2.5ba, $500K. Oh, and it will withstand a cat5 hurricane.

It's gated, which is kind of cool.

2 ponds w/fountains.

Front door opens to a mirrored wall and stairs, with the living area straight ahead.

I like the ceiling and floor.

To the left is a modern double-sided fireplace and the kitchen, plus doors to the patio.

The kitchen's smallish, but very nice and has a wine rack, plus a island that accommodates some seating.

In front of the doors is space for a dining area and there's also a built-in cabinet.

The primary bedroom has a closet, door to the terrace, built-in cabinets with a headboard for the bed, and a bench.

The terrace overlooks the patio.

A ladder goes up to a loft.

In the loft are 2 built-in benches with glass to look down at the bedroom. The loft is up in the cupola on the top of the house, so you can open the louver shutters to look out.

Plenty of built-in storage for clothes.

The bath is pretty roomy.

Cute built-in office.

Secondary bedrooms.

Bath #2.

The room up here is air conditioned and everything, but it's unfinished.

Nice bright basement.

The 1/2 bath is down here.

The outdoor patio is surrounded by a planter.

The lot is 1.24 acres.

https://www.realtor.com/realestateandhomes-detail/3500-Harlock-Rd_Melbourne_FL_32934_M61023-13287

[buffysimonriley]

[ coffee ] • harvey

synopsis - you bring harvey some coffee during his busy work day.

pairings - harvey/reader.

warnings - none, just pure fluff.

fancy buying me a coffee? | requests: open.

the sun beamed down through your bedroom window and onto your face, your eyes fluttering open at the sudden change in light through your closed lids. you squinted in an attempt to let your eyes adjust to the sudden light flooding through your bedroom. it was then that you realised your curtains were open - something that wasn't possible unless your partner, harvey, had woken up before you. you turned over to see your boyfriend was no longer sleeping peacefully besides you. "must have gone to work," you yawned to yourself, stretching out your stiff limbs as you spoke. you threw your legs over the edge of the bed and dangled them before planting them firmly into your cosy slippers which lay on the bedroom floor. you hopped off the bed and made your way into the kitchen to make yourself some breakfast. you grabbed a glass out of the cabinet to pour yourself some water and when you did, you placed the glass gently on the dining room table only to be met with a note scribbled in harvey's handwriting.

my dearest y/n; i watered the crops outside for you this morning in hopes i could make your day a little bit easier. oh, and i also fed the chicken and the cows - you just need to collect their eggs and milk! have a great day, see you later. i love you, harvey xx

you smiled as you read the note before holding it to your chest and sighing happily. you often found yourself wondering what you had done so far in life to gain somebody as caring and loving as harvey, which was exactly what you were doing at the present moment in time as you placed the note back on the table and turned your attention back to the task at hand: making breakfast. "maybe i should bring him some coffee," you mumbled as you scrambled yesterday's eggs. you knew harvey was working really hard as of late and you rarely got to see him, by the time you finished your duties on the farm and he finished work you were both just too tired. you, more times than not, would find yourself in bed before nine pm snuggling as you fell asleep. you nodded to yourself in agreement as you finished making your breakfast. todays plan: water the crops in the greenhouse, collect the chicken eggs and cow milk, make mayonnaise and cheese and then take harvey some coffee. you ate your breakfast and made your way back to your bedroom to get ready for the day. you dressed yourself in warm clothes, after all the cool autumn air had started to creep in.

recently you had had your grandfather's greenhouse repaired and renovated so the majority of your crops were inside. you had an abundance of them but mainly you had planted ancient seeds, after all they caught a pretty penny when you made their fruit into wine - which was something you planned on doing when you could make yourself a few kegs. now, you were fully wrapped up and made your way outside, admiring the rapid pace in which your pumpkins were growing. you smiled to yourself and made a mental note to thank pierre for the recent fertiliser you had purchased. thanks to him, your pumpkins would be ready and in perfect condition in time for halloween! you continued your brisk walk to the greenhouse and entered. upon entering you were met with your crops, all growing at different paces, but looking healthy nonetheless. you were overjoyed when you had noticed that some of your ancient seeds had fully grown, a big cheeky grin covered your lips. you watered the rest of your plants before you picked what you were able too and made your way to the selling bin where you gathered your latest crops. mayor lewis would appreciate this harvest for sure!

you then made your way over to the chicken coop. you petted your chickens, giving them some love before collecting their eggs. You had two mayonnaise machines and gently placed two chicken eggs into them. you would come back for them later. you made your way over to the cow barn and did the same thing: you petted your cows, giving them some love and milked them. placing the milk into the cheese machine and making a mental note of coming back for the final product later in the day. you returned to the selling bin and placed the remaining eggs and milk in there for mayor lewis to collect later in the evening.

"that's enough work for now," you smiled to yourself, clapping your hands together in pride. you had only been living in pelican town for a year and a half, but you were happy with the progress you had made in that time. especially since your grandfathers farm had been in such an abysmal state when you had arrived. you admired your crops outside once more before you turned and made your way back into your cottage, dead set on delivering coffee to harvey at work.

you turned the kettle on, grabbed an insulated thermal cup and your jar of coffee. you placed three scoops of coffee into the insulated cup and three spoonfuls of sugar, knowing harvey liked his coffee surprisingly sweet. you carefully poured the boiling water from the kettle into the thermal cup once it had boiled and then poured in a splash of milk, just enough for your boyfriend to appreciate the bitterness of the coffee but also the sweetness of the sugar. once you had completed making his coffee, you put the lid on the cup to keep it hot and grabbed the pre-made sandwich he had made from the night before that he had, of course, forgot to take with him. then, in the flash of an eye, you were on your way to the clinic.

on your stroll into town you were stopped by the residents of pelican town. many just saying 'hi' and asking how life on the farm was treating you. of course, as usual, you were friendly and polite. you loved the residents of pelican town like they were part of your own family - your grandfather definitely had discovered the perfect place to start a farm. the kids ran over to you and gave you a big hug, offering you flowers they had picked from the ground as a token of their appreciation for you - after all you supplied a lot of the crops around pelican town for people to make their food!

"ah farmer y/n!" mayor lewis exclaimed as you walked up to the clinic. he was waiting outside, looking at the notices on the windows. "how are you?"

"i'm good thank you mayor lewis," you replied with a courteous nod. "how are you?"

"no complaining here," he responded. "may i ask what you're doing here?"

"of course. harvey left before i awoke this morning. i thought i would bring him some coffee during his busy day."

"how thoughtful of you," mayor lewis smiled. "well, i won't keep you any longer. have a fantastic day."

"you too, mayor lewis," you smiled back and watched as he walked away.

you entered the clinic to see harvey behind the front desk. he looked up as the front bell rung, a huge smile plastered his face when he saw you standing before him. "y/n my love!" he exclaimed. "what are you doing here?"

"i brought you some coffee," you smiled holding up the thermal cup. "and also the sandwich you forgot to bring with you this morning."

"you are so thoughtful, give me a second," he responded before disappearing into the back. a few seconds later, harvey emerged from the back and at the front of the shop. no longer barricaded into the front desk, harvey walked over to you and wrapped his arms around your body. he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and smiled, taking the insulated cup and sandwich out of your hands. "thank you, my dear."

"you're most welcome, my love," you responded, reciprocating the hug once your hands were free of the items.

"i didn't want to wake you up this morning," harvey said. "you were sleeping so peacefully, i didn't have the heart to disturb you."

"it's okay harvey," you replied. "thank you for watering the crops outside and feeding the animals this morning."

"it was my pleasure," he responded, nodding his head. "i hope it made your morning a little bit easier."

"it did," you smiled.

"have you eaten today?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. you nodded in response and harvey smiled in response. "good. you need to keep your strength. especially with all that hard work you do on the farm."

harvey placed the thermal cup and sandwich on the front desk before turning to you again with his arms outstretched for an embrace. your heart fluttered as you walked into his arms, wrapping your own around his waist fondly. although he never wore cologne to work, he always smelt so good and you melted into his touch. harvey's hands rested on the small of your back as he pressed continuous kisses to the top of your head. "i miss you," you mumbled into his chest.

"i miss you too," harvey whispered. "but i have a surprise for you."

"what's the surprise?" you asked excitedly, pulling away from the embrace to look up at your boyfriend with wide, excited eyes.

"well, i was going to save the announcement until i came home tonight but," harvey did a small little drum roll on his knees before he announced. "i'm off work for a week after today!"

you gasped in excitement. "really?" you exclaimed. harvey hummed and nodded in response. "this is amazing news!"

"i know," harvey smiled. "i was thinking maybe we could go out for something to eat tomorrow evening, you know, spend some quality time together after your duties on the farm are completed."

"i would love that," you responded. "it's been so long since we have had a date night."

"it's been too long," harvey agreed. "i will make a reservation at your favourite place during my lunch today."

"my favourite place? really?" you asked as you raised your eyebrow.

"of course! why?"

"isn't it a bit pricey?" you asked sheepishly, looking down at your feet.

"nothing is too expensive for you," harvey replied, taking your face in his hands. he cupped your jaw with his fingers and stared so deeply into your eyes you couldn't help the blush that appeared on your cheeks. "you are so beautiful."

"and you," you poked his nose. "are so handsome."

"thank you, my love," harvey whispered. "for coming to see me. you've definitely broken the day up."

"i'm glad i could make your day a little bit nicer," you smiled. "but i must be going now."

"you must?" harvey asked with a pout.

"yes! i'm going to buy some seeds from pierre and plant some more seeds before autumn is over," you sighed.

"any idea what you're going to get?" harvey asked in a futile attempt to make you stay a little longer - he knew you loved talking about crops, seeds and anything to do with the farm in general.

you shook your head. "i want to plant more pumpkins, but i think we have enough for halloween," you chuckled.

"maybe some grapes," harvey mused. "i do like the grapes you plant."

"grapes it is then," you laughed. you pressed a quick kiss on his cheek before you turned to leave, however you were stopped in your tracks by harvey spinning you around.

"give me a proper kiss before you leave me," he pouted again before pressing his lips to yours softly. the pair of you closed your eyes as the kiss intensified, Harvey licked your bottom lip as his favourite way of asking for entrance into your mouth. you smiled and nodded slowly, opening your mouth and allowing his tongue to manoeuvre inside. just as quickly as the kiss began, it was over as the pair of you were interrupted by the nurse.

"excuse me," she whispered shyly. "i hate to interrupt but, Harvey, you have an appointment in five."

harvey pulled away from the kiss and sighed as you finally opened your eyes, a blush spreading across both of your faces. "i-i better be going," you stuttered, only for harvey to nod in agreement.

"thank you again for bringing me my coffee and sandwich my love," he whispered before placing one last kiss on your lips. "i'll see you at home tonight."

"see you tonight harvey," you smiled before exiting the clinic.

you made your way to pierre's now set on grabbing some grape seeds to plant for harvey. whilst there, you thanked pierre for the fertiliser you had used and had a quick chat before making your way back to the farm where you got to work planting the grape seeds. finally, you watered them and made your way inside to do some overall household chores like laundry and washing your dishes from this morning. you were excited for harvey's week off to say the least and excited for what the week would bring. for now, you simply relaxed and waited for your boyfriend to return home where he showed you just how grateful he was for your visit today.

[muffinsin]

Hey just wanted to ask if you will be open to do a story on the siblings.

I love the fluffy stories you do for them and I would be very grateful if you could do other one. I don't mind what at all maybe other people have a good idea.

Maybe one about Bela this time about needing comfort even though she tries to hide it. I love wondering what they would do if one of them where sick as well as what her mother would do so I guess that's one idea.

Bela being ill and trying to hide it to do jobs her sisters need help with or her mother. She would get yelled out by Cassandra as Daniel snuggles wishing her to get well as Cassandra joins in all tough saying she's only doing it to keep an eye on her as she mother was the one to help heal Bela.

Now that would be funny and fluffy I guess I had an idea over all.

Btw how is Bela monster fucking going? I can't wait.

Awh, this is adorable🙌 regarding the Bela monster fucking- I don’t think there’s any requests in the inbox for that or any interest I’m aware of :)

There’s so many sibling bonding asks in my inbox, it’s adorable y’all

Let’s get into it ;)!

Masterlists

Bela Dimitrescu does not get sick

Or; she tries to convince everyone, including herself, of this at least

While being understanding when her family falls sick, she is much different when it comes to herself

Bela is very much the type to ignore it, grit her teeth and keep going

And sometimes, it works. It pushes her to the limit and utterly exhausts her, yet, sometimes, the illness and dizziness does fade even without careful rest and medication

Sometimes, that is, mind you

It seems, now is not one of those times

She is no longer merely sniffing here and there and struggling to breathe in and out through her nose

No, the fever is weakening her, no matter how hard she fights it. It seems, fighting and pushing forwards only makes it worse

Her vision blurry, her limbs heavy and aching, she forces herself to keep going and refuses to let anybody know of her condition

Even as she grows too weak and feverish to even swarm alongside her younger sisters

She- doesn’t want to disappoint. She wants, no, needs to keep working

One morning it seems particularly bad, when she falls back onto the hard mattress the moment she sits up, her head aching and the all too familiar dizziness causing the room to spin for a few moments

Again, she merely grits her teeth, hard and frustrated enough for a fang to chip slightly. She doesn’t dare flinch and whimper at the sharp, cold pain it causes

As she forces her thighs off the bed and her feet to move across the room at last, the dizziness seems to only grow worse. Closets and cabinets spin, her window a mere blurry, bright light

She changes out of her clothing as the bathtub fills next, her mind and body overly aware of the thin layer of sweat covering her; no doubt another affect of the fever tormenting her

With difficulty, she manages to scrub herself clean, her frustration evident in the force she applies, so that the sponge leaves soapy, bloody scratches along her pristine skin

A second, a single, short moment, she allows herself to throw her head back and howl in pain and frustration, her tears thick and her lips pulled to an angry snarl

Within another moment, she forces her weak body to cease shaking

Breakfast is- a difficult affair

Attempting to calm her family’s worried stares, she eats the meat and drinks the bloodied wine presented to her

And yet, every bite makes her stomach turn and scratches against every inch of her sore throat like sandpaper

She gulps down the wine all too eagerly, chasing the soothing feeling of liquid calming and wetting her dry and sore throat

When asked whether she is alright by Cassandra, she flat out lies through her teeth. She smiles, even as her face muscles ache, and confirms

Work is- nearly overwhelming her

Her eyes are heavy, her body covered in sweat yet again despite her bath only two hours prior

She’s panting and whimpering quietly to herself in her office, her shaky fingers gripping the pen tightly, her wet hair clinging to her warm face

She considers opening the window, even as she knows the icy cold air outside means death

But…only a crack..she shakes her head at her own thought. No, she is too smart to open a window in winter

Yet, her body feels as if on fire. Her dress feels wet and heavy, restraining, even

She wants nothing but to take it off already

How much longer is it? She checks the clock at her wall repeatedly. Six hours. Six hours. Five hours and fifty-seven minutes. Time just won’t pass quickly, it seems, no matter how hard she wants it to

In half an hour, no work has gotten done

She feels sick and dizzy, yet the mere thought of standing up to head to the bathroom makes her stomach curl unpleasantly

She doesn’t even notice the small chirps her flies send out, broken and quiet, yet- not unheard

Daniela, the fastest of the three, is the first to appear in the study

Bela watches through heavy, lidded eyes as the blurry figure of her sister steps in front of her. When she cups her cheeks with cold, bare hands, to examine her sister’s face, Bela nearly howls happily

She presses her face forwards blindly, as though chasing the cool feeling calming her overly warm skin

Yet, when the door bangs open and Cassandra comes in, too, the feverish haze draws back and Bela immediately pulls back her head, fast enough for the room to be spinning and for her to sway slightly

Again, she feels hands on her skin; stronger, larger ones. Gloved, and slightly forceful as they’re set on her hip and shoulder to steady her

Even through her lidded, tired eyes, she sees her younger sisters scowling at her. They know, something is clearly wrong, and they are not about to leave until it is handled

Cassandra is the first to speak up. With Alcina out at a Lord meeting halfway across the village, it is up to her to handle her sickly-looking older sister, after all

Still, she winces when she asks what’s wrong and the harshness in her tone has the blonde flinch

She figures, she could attempt a gentler approach

At first, she is met with denial. “Everything is okay”, “Don’t worry”, “I’m fine”

Neither of the younger sisters believes a word. Not even Bela stumbles as soon as Cassandra’s grip eases slightly and her eyes keep darting to the window longingly

She begins to lose her patience, her grip tightening on her sister the more wobbly the woman’s legs seem to get. Cassandra doesn’t miss how tightly she grips the table, as though aware she’d fall without its support

She snarls, her eyes rolling when Daniela waves her hand in front of her and beckons her out of the way

Bela watches confused as she is led from the table, her arm slung around Cassandra while Daniela holds onto her hand tightly, guiding- or rather; pulling- her along

Alas, she is in no state to deny them even if she wanted to. And really- she doesn’t

Not when her legs feel weak and her middle sister is what keeps her from falling, the messy buzzing of her flies somewhat comforting to her, and not when Daniela’s cold hand feels so relieving in her own, warm one. Is she sweating? She can’t tell anymore, and her vision and mind is too hazy to take notice of Cassandra’s scrunched up nose

At last, she notices where she has been led- Daniela’s room. Sickly sweet in its scent, yet familiar and comforting

Her eyes struggle to stay open, and only do they widen when she is dropped to the bed suddenly

Soft whines and broken chirps pass her lips as the cool hand is pressed to her forehead. She doesn’t mind Daniela’s gasp at the warmth she feels there

“Poor thing! You’re burning up!”

The words nearly bring a frustrated sob out of her. Perhaps, she no longer needs to pretend it’s all okay. After all, they already found her out

She eagerly lifts her arms and turns as the sweat-soaked dress is removed and coos in relief at the feel of cool, soft sheets against her scratched, sweaty skin

“We should call Mother”

She whines, her throat too achy and sore to allow any words to form

It seems, her sisters get the hint, so that instead of swarming for the phone in Alcina’s office, Daniela crawls into the bed as well

At first, a whine is pulled from Bela when she feels comforting arms wrap around her. Then, a sigh of relief passes her lips. Her body is too heavy, her mind too hazy. She merely pushes herself into her sister’s touch, sighing happily when cool hands return to her cheeks and forehead to cool the warm skin found there

For a moment, all feels calm. She doesn’t notice Cassandra leaving for the bathroom, until she jumps and coos happily when wet rags are pressed against her neck and back

“How could you keep working like this?!”, Cassandra fumes

She sports an angry, concerned scowl. A harsh contrast to the care and gentleness applied as she drags and dabs the rag at Bela’s sweaty, scratched skin

“You know we are supposed to rest when we get sick! Mother’s told you a million times!”, she adds with a low grumble

Daniela giggles for a moment, a low “as if you were any different” muttered under her breath. Cassandra chooses not to pick a fight- this time

Bela feels as the fever catches up on her at last- yet- the lukewarm rag and cool hands on her help the heat seemingly burning under her skin

She isn’t sure what urges her to do it, yet, as she feels the cloth gently dab at her warm skin and soothing it, she turns suddenly, her body inching forth and her heavy arms wrapping around Cassandra

Her other arm pulls Daniela close, the woman’s giggle almost too loud in her ears

“T-Thank you” she whispers hoarsely

With her face tucked in her sister’s neck, she doesn’t notice the surprised look and the worried smile she wears

She does, however, feel the acknowledgment and reassurance of the swarm as both her sisters pat her gently

“It’ll be okay, Bela”, both of them promise

And even with the fever and the heavy worry for her duties evident in her head, she accepts, and she believes it

[dan-whoell]

borrowed

Word count: 1754

Dan borrows an outfit to go down to the corner shop.

Read on AO3

The first thought Dan has when he wakes is that it’s too fucking bright. Someone needs to turn down the sun immediately or he might actually burst into flames. The second thought is that there shouldn't be sunlight in his bedroom (thank you blackout curtains) and its presence must mean he’s not in his own bed. If he’s not at home, then he must be at Phil’s. Which explains everything, mild headache included. They were up late drinking wine and watching trash television before tumbling into bed together.

“Phil,” he mumbles, rolling over to bury his face in his boyfriend’s back. “The sun is too bright. Make it stop.” 

Of course Phil says nothing, because the man could sleep through an actual freight train running through his flat and he probably wouldn’t even notice the mess it left behind. “Phil,” he tries again, and although the hitch in Phil’s breathing feels promising, it quickly evens back out and Dan knows he is alone in this fight. 

He groans, rolling back the other way to force himself out of bed. He adores Phil, really, but he fucking hates sleeping here. The flat is tiny and there’s no bedside table and there’s an atrocious amount of direct sunlight in the morning, which is his exact grievance today. He rifles blindly through one of Phil’s dresser drawers in search of a pair of sweatpants. Phil won’t actually mind, but they’ll have a playful little argument about it that will end in Dan suggesting that if Phil has such a problem with Dan in his sweats, maybe he should fucking do something about it. He doesn’t bother with a t-shirt. His happened to be in an inopportune spot last night and is no longer in a wearable condition, and Phil’s wardrobe is full of too much color for Dan’s liking.  

For himself, at least. Big fan of it on Phil, though to be fair he’s a pretty big fan of anything on Phil. Also nothing at all. And half dressed, boxers and socks and a bare chest. Phil is hot, is the bottom line here. As he makes his way to the kitchen he thinks, not for the first time, how fucking lucky he is to have Phil in his life. Does the man have flaws? Sure. He gets hyperactive and a little overly enthusiastic, he can be pretty messy and leaves nearly every cabinet door open behind him, and he rarely takes I’m just tired as an excuse for Dan’s frequent gray moods. He always wants Dan to open up, to be honest, to share the dark parts of himself that Dan is so sure are going to scare him off. And then he holds Dan, kisses his tears away and promises not to go anywhere. 

It’s fucking bewildering, honestly. 

But for reasons Dan cannot begin to fathom, Phil means every word. So Dan is going to hold on for as long as he can, cleaning up little messes and closing cabinet doors and making shitty instant coffee in the mornings. 

If, that is, Phil had actually bought coffee. There had been a whole conversation about it last night before they convened here, Dan on the phone reminding him that he said he’d run out the previous morning, and since Phil was literally in the supermarket and Dan was picking up takeout, it was a chore that fell to Phil. Apparently, though, Phil had been too focused on bringing up the when are you actually going to move in argument, refusing to accept that Dan was locked into a lease, and it would be six months before he could get out of it. Besides, he hated Phil’s flat, the only thing even remotely appealing about it was Phil himself. It should have been a conversation for months down the road, when they could easily agree to look for a new apartment together, and save themselves a lot of mild irritation. 

Including this right now, the dawning realization that he has to leave the apartment to go get coffee. If it were just Dan, he’d figure out how to live without it, cup of tea or a red bull or something, but not Phil. He might say it’s fine, but Dan knows he’ll be disappointed, and he can’t live with himself if he doesn’t do everything in his power to prevent that. 

He allows himself one moment of true annoyance about the situation, then takes a deep breath and heads back into the bedroom, once again rifling through Phil’s drawers for something to wear. He doesn’t have it in him to change into jeans, deciding the black sweatpants will have to be good enough. He ends up in a white graphic tee and Phil’s ugly blue and purple jacket, refusing to remember what the hell he did with his own. It’s one of the many items that Phil owns that somehow look incredible on him even though nothing about it is actual appeals to Dan whatsoever, and he’d almost rather freeze than have to wear it himself. 

Almost being the operative word. 

He doesn’t bother even trying to wake Phil, knowing it’s a lost cause. Even if he did manage to get him up, Phil would insist that he stay in, that they try to figure something else out. He’s not about to let Phil make any concessions this morning. Instead he swipes a pair of mismatched novelty socks (cereal brands, for some fucking reason) and shoves his feet into a pair of Vans that Phil dyed green when Dan went to visit his family. He’s not a fan of these either, but they’re by the front door and they’re more convenient than lacing up his own boots. 

Twenty minutes later he’s browsing the aisles of a corner shop, container of instant coffee already in hand. If he’d been thinking more clearly he would have checked for anything else they might need, but thanks to the mild hangover and the overall annoyance of the situation, it hadn’t occurred to him. On a whim he grabs a bag of Maltesers and some crisps, figuring that even if Phil did buy some they can always use more. 

The girl at the counter seems to survey him, and he assumes it’s because he looks like exactly what he is: a hungover homosexual who had to borrow his boyfriend’s clothes in order to pop down to the shop. Whatever. He’s done with feeling embarrassed about the decisions he makes, especially when those decisions involve Phil. He gives her a bright, too cheery smile, and she only pops her gum in response. 

Phil has only just gotten up when he gets back, and is searching, Dan assumes, through his cabinets for the very thing Dan has in a paper bag. 

“You were out,” Dan says flatly, dropping the shopping bag onto the counter. “You’re welcome.” 

Phil begins to turn around. “I could have sworn I bought-” He stops short, eyes widening as they land on Dan. “What are you wearing?” 

“My clothes were gross.” 

“Are those my socks?” 

“They were clean, okay, what else did you want me to do?” In retrospect the socks may have been a mistake. He could have just as easily scrounged down to the bottom of the drawer and found two plain black ones that Phil would have forgotten about. Instead he went with the most blatantly Phil pair possible, for reasons he doesn't feel like unpacking right now. 

Phil takes a half step toward him then stops, hands flat on the counter. “I- you- Goddammit Dan, why’d you have to- fuck.”  

Of all the responses he thought he might get wearing Phil’s clothes, this was not one of them. “Oh, sorry for going to the shop for your coffee, next time I won’t borrow anything and just let you suffer without caffeine. Or maybe I’ll just go naked.” 

“It’s not the borrowing, it’s-” Phil’s eyes rake over him for a beat, settling at the place the light blue collar meets his neck. “I’m not used to you in color. It suits you.” 

Dan does not understand the conversation they’re having. “So the problem is I’m hot?” 

“In part.” 

Now Dan steps forward, moving around the counter to reach out for Phil. “You sure knew what to do about that last night.” 

But Phil steps out of his grasp, leaning back against the stove they never use. “Yeah, but last night you didn’t give me the perfect argument for you moving in.” 

He groans. “No, don’t start this.” 

“I’m just saying, you wouldn’t have to borrow my clothes- clothes you look really good in by the way- if you just had all of your stuff here.” He hikes an eyebrow, but Dan can tell he’s fighting a losing battle with a smile. 

“I can’t break my lease, and I’m not paying rent for a place I don’t live.” 

“You went to law school for five minutes, surely-” 

“Oh fuck off!” But they’re both giggling, and this time when Dan reaches out Phil let’s himself be pulled, letting out a little contented sigh as Dan’s fingers curl into the fabric of his t-shirt. “Tell you what,” Dan says against his mouth, forcing himself to say the words that have been rattling around in his head for the last couple of months. “When both of our leases are up, we’ll find a place together.” 

Phil pulls back. “Wait really? You’ll actually live with me?” 

“Well obviously.” Dan rolls his eyes, smiling. “On the condition that we get black out curtains.” 

“And you wear more color.” 

“You wear more black.” The counter is immediate, hardly a thought before it’s out if his mouth, but he finds that it’s an excellent demand. Like most things, Phil looks incredible in black. It's a conclusion he's only recently come to, thanks to some black graphic tees that have made the rotation. But he wants Phil in proper black, styled specifically to contrast to his pale skin and hair. 

Phil blinks at him in surprise. “Really? You think I suit black?” 

“Are you kidding? You’re hot as is, but in black?” He shakes his head, reconsidering. “On second thought, I’m not sure I could handle it.” It’s bait, a little bit, and they both know it. 

“What if we stay at yours tonight, and I try on all your clothes and you tell me how good I look?” Phil asks with a grin. 

It is, possibly, the best way he can imagine spending his evening. 

[ihazmunchies91]

"Do you know what the Hawthorne Effect is reader?"

"N-No I don't think-"

"It is the study of how one changes under the condition of being monitored or watched. Thier performance improves, their behaviors, their appearance, their body language. Before you entered this Parable, can you ever say you had anything profound happen to change your life for the better? I think not. Before this Parable, you were miserable. And Despite your happenings and events here, you have improved. You are happy."

Okay imma talk about Void here. I have brainrot about my boy.

Void Narrator is from a unfinished fanfic I did a year ago. It was a half life stanley parable crossover.

The Narrator was a Psychologist that worked for black mesa and was sent to infiltrate the facility that stanley worked at to study the mind control tactics they had. To him, this was the greatest opportunity to understanding how the mind worked in response to being controlled. And in his mind, this was the ultimate catalyst to him being the greatest psychologist. He felt as though he could use this tactic to become a better psychologist by mind controlling his patients somehow with the help of Black Mesa.

When the cascade resonance happened, he became mutated into an entity and is now a part of the void entirely. And he can be malicious and deadly. But he mostly watches everything. He erased stanleys coworkers including his closest friend (who later respawns).

I never finished the fanfic because I ran out of steam, and I didn't have a lot of information that I do now. So now he is in TNP (the narrative Parable) where he belongs.

Yes, He is aware of G-Man from his orginal story. He was a frequent visitor.

Voids name is yet to be spoken publically. It will be featured in the fanfic.

He can hear thoughts very easily, which is also how he's able to do psychology very well. he's also incredibly violent when it comes to intruders in his territory, however, he has a select few narrators that he tolerates in his facility, they come to visit him and play games, however, void tends to cheat when it comes to games. He can tranform the cards and dice to his liking.

He was a psychologist for workers at Black Mesa because many of the workers, mostly the scientist became frequently stressed about their work position and needing to get things done on time or else they would face expulsion from the facility.

When he was a psychologist to black Mesa, he would often spend his earnings on gambling, and he would never lose, often using his psychology to trick others into losing, and thus, when he was transformed into a void creature, he used his abilities to his full advantage, he could care less if he was caught.

He loves having a drink before he gets started on his work. he has various wines and decanters. he owns a parlor inside the void which looks like a bar in a casino. Clean green and red carpets. A poker table. several couches ro get comfortable on or rest. A fireplace. he also has his doctorates hangingon his wall above the wine cabinet.

I loves him. T.T

art by emiletb

[mariacallous]

When you think of Jewish alcohol, Manischewitz (for better or worse) probably comes to mind. But slivovitz — a liquor with a forceful flavor and formidable strength — is arguably the Hebrew hooch. 

Slivovitz, whose name is derived from the slavic word sliv for “damson plum,” is made by fermenting plums, distilling the mash to 80-100 proof alcohol, then aging the resulting liqueur for up to 10 years in oak barrels. Slivovitz is largely produced in Central and Eastern Europe, where different countries create their own variants. In the Czech Republic, for example, slivovitz (in Czech, slivovice) is considered the national drink of the region of Moravia and is served at room temperature in small shot glasses known as a panák. In Bulgaria, slivovitz holds special religious importance having been distilled for nearly seven centuries by members of Troyan Monastery. The monks’ special blend is made from Madzharkini plums, a variety that grows only in the Troyan region and is distinctive for its easily extracted pits.

Although grains are introduced during some forms of the slivovitz fermentation process, some distillers decided to forgo this step as a means of ensuring the liqueur was kosher. This gesture rendered slivovitz initially attractive to Jews during Passover, specifically Seder dinners that traditionally called for the consumption of up to four glasses of wine. Unfortunately, local wines were often made alongside other spirits under non-kosher conditions and thus were unacceptable. And because, as Dr. Glenn Dynner, professor of Jewish studies at Sarah Lawrence College, points out, imported kosher wine was often prohibitively expensive and of limited availability, Jews gravitated toward slivovitz on such celebratory occasions. 

But its kashrut status alone is an insufficient reason why slivovitz is considered particularly, or even especially, Jewish. According to University of Pittsburgh professor and slivovitz historian, Dr. Martin Votruba, “Jews would acquire this local drink after moving into European kingdoms. They would simply pick it up as part of the culture.” It seems, however, their relationship with slivovitz became more purposeful during the 1800s in what is now Poland. Because they were considered relatively temperate compared to their countrymen, Jews were charged with operating drinking halls and taverns, and thus began to monopolize the liquor business, much of which revolved around slivovitz. 

Another explanation as to why slivovitz holds a special place in the Jewish cultural imaginary is its strong anecdotal association with Jewish men of an older generation. In the 1990 film “Avalon,” which chronicles the trials and tribulations of a Polish Jewish immigrant family at the turn of the 20th century, brothers Sam and Gabriel reminisce about their father: 

“He never drank water. And oh, boy, could he drink! What was that stuff called he always used to drink?’ ‘Slivovitz. Slivovitz. He used to call it, ‘Block and fall.’ You have one drink of that, you walk one block and you fall!” 

Similarly, food writer Jordan Hoffman recalls his father describing how a swig of slivovitz (which they called ‘Shleeve-O-Wits’) by Hoffman’s grandfather signaled the breaking the Yom Kippur fast: 

“… they’d peer out of the apartment window, waiting to spot him walking back from the synagogue. He’d take his sweet time, pull off his coat and hat, open a rarely used cabinet, blow the dust off an old bottle, take a sip of something, make a face, then announce that everyone could eat.”

As evinced by both accounts, slivovitz is not for the faint of heart and for some years, the caustic, bitter spirit fell out of favor. There are signs that slivovitz is slowly becoming back en vogue: restaurants, including New York’s renowned Kafana, serve slivovitz and a handful of distillers, such as Stone Barn Brandy Works, are producing their own new-fangled versions. And fans of the enormously popular series “Homeland” will attest that it’s the drink of choice for the character of Senator Andrew Lockhart.  

Slivovitz’ nostalgic appeal combined with the introduction of new, more palatable varieties means it has some real so-old-school-it’s-cool potential. And who knows — the coming year may have us all slugging slivovitz slingers rather than espresso martinis.

[writingpiecesak]

Imagine arguing with 💥Katsuki Bakugou💥

Nothing has been going well lately for you. Missing essay assignments for your sociology class, late night shifts causing you to miss dinner time, said late night shifts from your shitty boss who doesn’t understand the idea of a breath mint. Getting a speeding ticket because you were late for school. You’re favorite sushi place closed down and your hair is frizzing up because of damn weather conditions. 

All you wanted right now was a warm bubble bath with candles and soothing music playing in the background while you sip a glass of white wine. To fall into a trace of relaxation, keeping away from the real worlds problems. To just have a moment to yourself. A simple moment. Is that too much to ask?

“Killed your ass! Hop off the game already you’re so bad!”

Ah, the wonderful yelling of gaming frustration coming from the living room. Your eyes weren’t surprised by your boyfriend, Katsuki gaming in front of the television with his headset and mic settled perfectly in between his ears. Otherwise, he would’ve heard you come in.

After standing there for about five minutes he finally noticed you. “Oh welcome home babe. Dinner’s in the oven.”

Well at least he cooked dinner. You walked into the kitchen setting down your car keys and handbag. Grabbing a plate a fork from the cabinets you pull out what was left in the oven for you. To your dislike though, it was spicy meatloaf with curry rice.

You understand your boyfriend loves spicy food, but doesn’t it have to be all the time? Why couldn’t he ask you what would you like for dinner? Is it that hard to send a text or to try calling?

With a heavy sign you put back the utensil and plate, looking around the pantry for anything else to substitute the growing hunger laying in your stomach.

No one thought to buy groceries either…. Why was everything left to you? Buying groceries, making dinner satisfying both parties, cleaning the damn dishes he used.

You rolled your eyes and grabbed your favorite box of cereal, fruity pebbles always makes things better even if it’s for a short moment before they get soggy. You lifted the box from its spot only to have it feel light as a feather. You shook the box around trying to feel out how much would be left until you hear Katsuki call out from the living room.

“Oh I forgot to tell you. I had the last bowl of that fruit cereal this morning! Sorry hun I was hun–behind you! No behind you Kiri! Damn it Ashido you’re supposed to cover his ass.”

You got to be freaking kidding me… Your grip tighten around the box and finally frustration snapped. You flung the empty box straight to his head, so hard it knocked his headset off in fact. Immediately Katsuki pulled a face and got up from his seat.

“Seriously? You’re mad over damn cereal!”

“No I’m mad at you!”

“For what? I made you dinner!”

“No, you made yourself dinner. You know I can’t handle spicy food.” You shouted.

A small moment of realization hit him but he wasn’t going to admit his wrongs. “Then eat shit then! At least I cooked something meanwhile all you eat is takeout.”

The distance of talking started getting closer together with every notch being brought higher. “Because I work late! Ever thought to ask me what I would want for dinner? What I would like to come home to?”

“Don’t give me that bullshit, I patrol my ass in serious dangerous areas. And when needed I go out and fight! That’s my job! All you do is organize paperwork for a boss that’s a mere extra.”

“Oh so now you’re going to blame me for not having a quirk and saving people? Some people are normal! Regular! Having to work shitty jobs to make a living Katsuki!”

“I’m not listening to this pity party. Quirk or no quirk, you can always find a better job.” You see him beginning to sit back down and grabbing his headset from off the floor. But you weren’t done speaking. You marched right to his console and immediately pulled all cords not caring which was for what. The tv screen had went black, you threw the cords at his feet with a winning smirk.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” As his anger rises you could see his hands starting to give off sparks.

“You’re my problem Kats! This apartment is my problem! My job is my problem! My hair is my problem! Everything is a fucking problem with me!”

Breathing heavily your eyes start to water but you didn’t want to cry not now especially. You pushed passed Katsuki and headed straight for the bedroom instantly locking it. You grabbed the hem of the fluffy blanket and threw it around. Throwing around the pillows and just trying to take out your frustration on something other than your boyfriend right now.

Wanting more destruction to voice out your anger, you grabbed your night table lamp and threw it at the bedroom door with a final scream. Now only sadness floods through you as realizing you’d would have to clean everything up. Before you’re able to take a step towards the door, Katsuki burst through with concern worries look. Unfortunately he stepped on the pieces of sharp colorful glass which the lamp was made of. But the pain in his feet couldn’t compare to the pain he felt in his heart seeing you cry.

“I’m sorry. Everything is just…a problem.” You lowered your head wanting to mask the tears as you thought for a sign of weakness. Katsuki carefully walked around the mess and grabbed you hand, pulling you into his chest as you cried letting out the anger in a different way that didn’t cause destruction.

“It’s okay. Let it out, I’m here. You’re okay. I’m sorry too. I’ll buy you five hundred fruity pebble boxes. Just please….take the glass out my foot.”

A small giggle escaped your lips. You wrapped your arms around your lover and snuggled closer, deeper into his scent.

“My feet are bleeding dumbass. But…let’s stay like this a little longer.”

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Seven (Part 3)

The sun has already begun its descent behind the horizon when we all sit down to eat at three o’clock. These later December days are so short that sometimes I wonder why the sun bothers to show up at all, and why not just give up its teasing and go away altogether until it’s ready to stay and commit to a decent amount of daylight. 

The candles in the centre of the table flicker and dance in the fading light and the lights on the christmas tree twinkle, and the sight is so cosy and festive that I suppose I don’t really mind all that much about the dusk. Uncle Sean sails out of the kitchen carrying the huge roasted turkey fit for ten, and everyone applauds with delight as he smiles as though he’s the one who slaved over it all morning. He places it right in the middle of the table surrounded by the roasted carrot batons and the crispy roast potatoes, parsnips, mash, brussels sprouts, homemade yorkshire puddings, ham studded with cloves, gallons of gravy and bread sauce, so much food that one might think it’ll last for days, but it will be gone in an hour.

Granny makes us say a prayer in thanks for the food, and the minute we’ve finished Conor and Decky start lunging for it, taking heaping spoonfuls of mashed potatoes, great big hacks of meat and drowning it all in gravy while Aunty Catriona stares at them like they’re wild animals at the zoo. 

“Leave some for the rest of us, please.” she says to them and Uncle Sean laughs. “Sure they’re growing boys, Cat, leave them at it.”

“They’re gone past growing, sure they’re twenty six and twenty three.”

“G’way, Catriona.” Says Conor with a mouthful of honey roasted ham. “There’s plenty for us all.”

Sean turns to Fabiana next to him as the food makes the rounds of the table. “Bread sauce, love?” He says, holding up the jug, and she pulls a disgusted face and shakes her head, and as he passes it over her to granny, Fabiana looks over at me with a little, secretive smile. I grin back, pleased that she’s chosen me as an ally among the chaos of this family dinner. 

Somebody opens a bottle of red wine and she reaches for it and then bends over the table and starts pouring it into my crystal glass, the ones that only come out of the cabinet on Christmas day. I feel my mam’s eyes on me as I have a drink from it. 

It’s a while before anyone tries to speak, our mouths all full of food as we ravage what’s on the table. I’m so hungry now that I can’t think of anything else, the food tasting a thousand times more delicious because of how long I’ve waited for it. 

“So Michael, how’s the new job going?” Catriona says to my dad eventually, once her plate is about three quarters of the way finished. “I know you were let go from your previous one recently.”

“Going grand.” He says, patting the corners of his mouth with a cloth napkin, his movement a little bit slow and sloppy. “I work nights now in the factory, worse conditions, I suppose, but better money. No big change from the last place to be honest… we make catheters now.”

“Ah, I suppose you’ll take what you can get. That’s how the economy is these days.”

A pause. “And how’s the love life, Cat?”

“Well actually I amn’t seeing anyone at the moment.”

“Oh right. What happened to yer man?”

“Who?” Says Sean, and my dad waves his fork around at aunty Catriona, searching for the right name. 

“The fella from accounting at her work.” He settles on eventually, and she rolls her eyes and goes back to her food. 

“Not seeing anyone.” She repeats. I take a large glug of the red wine. 

“That’s a pity, sure we were all hoping for some news about more grandkids.” My mam elbows him in the arm, and he looks at her in surprise. “What?” 

“Dad and Fabiana are already having another baby, did you not know that?” Says Decky. “She’s seven months pregnant, like.” 

“Ah yeah but sure like…” He trails off, and I feel hot with embarrassment of him already, as clearly he’s already had a few drinks too many. His eyes are watery and heavy. I drain the end of my wine glass and Fabiana immediately fills it again. 

“Anyone tried the brussels sprouts?” Says granny. “They’re especially delicious this year.” 

“No, brussels sprouts are sick.” Says Conor. 

“They’re very healthy for you.” Attempts Fabiana and he immediately rolls his eyes at her. 

“Yeah, alright. Can we talk about something else?” I stiffen and look from Conor to Decky, Fabiola to Sean. Clearly something is not right in their family this Christmas, and I wonder how the boys really feel about their father dating a woman young enough to be their sister. I watch her face fall and the way that she goes back to picking at her food with a bent head. 

“Tell your granny about school.” Sean says to his youngest son then, and Conor regards him with total incredulity.

“I’m graduated, dad.” 

“Are you? Weren’t we at that yoke in your university only last month?”

“Yeah. My graduation ceremony.”

“Oh right, yeah.” 

“I’m working with the county council now.”

“Forgot about that.”

The only sounds at the table are the scraping of silverware against the plates. I take another long drink from my glass and instantly Fabiana is wielding the bottle again. I have a feeling she’s going to have me drink the whole thing, wishing it could be her instead. 

“Fabiana.” I say softly. “You’ve got to slow down. I have a hard time saying no to people.” 

“Just a bit.” She says, and then to my horror, all eyes are on me as my mam starts a fresh tirade. 

“Since when do you drink?” She says accusingly into the silence. 

“Um. I don’t know.” I say feebly, feeling like a child caught rotten doing something against the rules. 

“She’s drank for years.” Decky pipes up unhelpfully. “Remember I saw you drinking cans of cider outside Kennedy’s pub in town after you and your friends weren’t allowed in. What age were you then? Must have been fifteen.” He’s laughing because he thinks he’s told a funny anecdote, but he has no idea how tone deaf it is. I stare at him in disbelief. What is going on at this dinner table? How did he think that was an okay thing to say? My mother’s eyes narrow at me. 

“I’m eighteen.” I squeak. “I can drink if I want to.”

“Is this what you’re doing up there in Dublin?” She demands. “Up in those pubs drinking away all of your money?”

“No, mam. I’m not like that.”

“I’m disappointed.” She says, and then looks from me to my father with a resigned look on her face, and I know what she’s thinking. That I’m going to end up just like him, stuck to the bar in some pub all weekend until I get carried out by the bouncers and tossed into a taxi only to crash into the house at two in the morning and fall asleep on the couch until noon. Going from work to the drink and then back again in this endless, drunken spiral. 

“There’s something about women who drink.” She announces to the table. “I think there’s nothing worse, nothing less attractive than that. You know, when you see a man, messy drunk, stumbling on the streets, it’s bad enough, but when it’s a woman it’s a hundred times worse.”

“That’s sexist.” I say to her. 

“It isn’t.”

“Why?”

“Because it isn’t the same, and I don’t appreciate this new bolshy attitude you have. Where are you picking up all these notions?”

“You can’t just say ‘it isn’t’ and then not have any reason why. That’s the definition of a double standard.”

“Well it’s my opinion. What do you lads think when you see drunk women out on the street on a Saturday night?” She closes in on my cousins who look at each other and shrug, mumbling incoherencies. 

“You wouldn’t go out with someone who did that, would you?” 

“Uh I dunno.” Decky says. “Depends.” 

I feel a horrible lump in my throat and my chest hurts. I hurt. I take a steadying breath before I speak in case I cry. “Are you saying that’s the reason you think that I…” I trail off, too humiliated to finish my sentence. 

She looks into my face then, wavering slightly but not backing down. “Boys don’t like girls who drink.”

I look at my father, drunk at three in the afternoon, lazily eating his dinner without bothering to close his mouth all the way. “So they like girls who enable their drinking instead, right?” I say and when her face falls I realise it’s too late to take the words back. They’re out there, filling the room with this dreadful, grim weight, but I continue anyway, throwing my hand up in the direction of my dad. “Is this what you want for me?” I ask her. There isn’t a sound from anyone at the table, not even a clink of glass against the delft, and my mother just opens her mouth and closes it again. I get up from the table in a hurry, the chair scraping against the floor. I throw my napkin onto my plate and rush out of the room and up the stairs towards the bedroom that granny has made up for me. 

“Does anyone want the Christmas pudding?” I hear her murmur to the table, before I shut the door behind me. 

Prev // Next

[justchillandshipit]

911 Summary/Thoughts Season 1 Episode 6- Heartbreaker

Caveat: I am up-to-date on all 911 episodes. For my reviews, I attempt to rewatch and remember my first impressions. I will occasionally, compare it to what I know now. I’ll try to warn of current spoilers when necessary.

Emergencies: The first emergency is a call for a woman who has a special thyroid condition that presents as a heart condition. She had her heart attack symptoms while in a Cessna. (The events triggering her attack started out as a surprise wedding proposal. The pilot faked plane trouble and put the proposal in the emergency landing instructions.

The second emergency, not including Buck, is a call from a man who believes he has broken his back. When they arrived, the owners were okay. The couple said they didn’t call. The woman was hiding something. She was cheating on her boyfriend with her ex-husband. He hurt himself jumping off the balcony to get away. It wasn't a broken back, and the call ended well.

Personal Stories/Getting to Know: Abby took the first emergency call and later helped the team from misdiagnosing her at the scene. It was a cute scene where she called Buck and passed information through him, and Buck gave her a play-by-play of how the wedding proposal ended. {The woman said yes and then slapped her new fiancé.} In this episode, the focus is on Valentine's Day and love. Abby is ready to move her relationship to the next level with Buck, but he is moving slowly because he’s afraid of ruining it. Buck also hates Valentine’s Day in general. He talks to Bobby about it, who admits that he usually loves the holiday. The conversation sparks memories of his wife whom he misses every day not just on Valentine's.

Chim also returns to the firehouse after recovering from the rebar through his skull. The gang gets him a creepy cake in the shape of his head with the rebar through it. At Chim’s welcome back party, Abby shows up at Buck’s invitation. It is the first time the rest of the gang meets her.

Athena does attend Chim’s party, but she works Valentine’s Day. She checks on a disturbance to find an unstable woman. At first, she doesn’t find anything amiss and feels sorry for the woman. She is kind to her, and the woman fixates on that kindness. Athena takes care of several disturbances as a police officer including a bad wreak. She ends up racing a transplant doctor to the hospital. She gets him there. He looks terrified the whole trip. Later, she is called back to the woman’s apartment. The woman’s behavior leads Athena to check the medicine cabinet to see if the woman might be taking something. She then spots blood in the shower. Before she can apprehend her, Athena finds the body of the boyfriend and the woman sneaks up on her with a gun. The woman is quite mad and believes that Athena has a good heart and that she can bring her boyfriend back to life as a better person by cutting out Athena’s heart and giving it to the man. Fortunately, Athena is able to distract and disarm her. Athena ends her night back home where the kids have left her Valentine’s Day cookies with a glass of wine and a note. It’s her first holiday without her husband.

Bobby ends his night by going to the hospital to check on Buck after he nearly choked to death during his date. Bobby and Abby meet again over his hospital bed and have a nice conversation. If I didn’t know how things worked out with Abby, I would have said that Abby and Bobby may have been a potential ship brewing.

Likes/Dislikes: The emergencies for this episode, not including Buck, were somewhat interesting. The first jump-started the episode so it was important, but overall, the emergencies were not exciting. I liked the interaction between the 118, Athena, and Abby. How the women came around Abby to get to know her and to subtly push Buck toward asking Abby out for Valentine’s Day. It was a nice, funny, and friendly scene.

I like Chim talking to Bobby at the party about how he got dumped after getting rebar through his skull and Buck ends up with ‘Abby.’ He asks, “What’s that kid got that I don’t” At the same time Buck bends over. He then says, “Forget I asked.”

I L.O.V.E.D. the Bobby and Buck scene where Bobby helps Buck with his tie and getting ready for his date. Buck continues to worry about ruining things with Abby and is afraid of having sex with her because he believes he is a sex addict. Bobby gives him advice about getting to know her before having sex. It is a serious conversation, but also fatherly, friendly, and caring. It was a great scene.

I loved the date night scene with Abby and Buck. She’s looking at him across the table and thinking how cute he is and then, as any self-respecting cougar would, she begins to panic. In her head, she’s thinking, “What if they ask for his I.D.? What if they ask for his and don’t ask for mine?” Bahahhahhaa. They spend a lot of the date thinking things in their heads. Buck thinks she looks pretty. He likes her hair. Then he tells himself to stop. He is not sleeping with her. She thinks she can see his muscles through his suit jacket. She says something to him and he gets choked on a piece of bread. She calls 9-1-1 but ends up doing a partial tracheotomy on him. (I loved that part a little less.)

Ships:

Hen/Karen Hen is in the episode, but Karen only gets a mention. Their ship didn’t sail much in this episode. They’re still in the dinghy.

Buck/Abby – Abby and Buck continue building on their ship. I’m starting to feel it. I believe their feelings are genuine, so I was surprised to get a little vibe between her and Bobby. *spoiler* That ship never sails. I’m glad of it.

Favorite quote from this episode:

No favorite quotes in this episode, but it was still a solid and fun episode.

[ridiasfangirlings]

Homra plays Hide-and-Seek with Anna as the seeker. They wanted to have some fun and wants Anna to experience some normal child stuff once in a while. They don't want to look down on her though so they're taking the hiding seriously. How would they fare?

Homra’s hide and seek game is probably much more wholesome than when S4 does it XD Imagine Totsuka thinks it would be a cute game to play with Anna, like yes she seems mature but he thinks she would enjoy playing games like a normal kid. He suggests they play a game of hide and seek and let Anna do the seeking and imagine none of the Homra even complain, like Yata is so pumped to play a game of hide and seek he is going to be an awesome hider. Anna promises she won’t use her marbles, she’s very determined to play this the old fashioned way like Tatara told her.

Anna starts counting and all the Homra guys scramble to find a hiding place. Kusanagi has allowed them to use the bar on the condition that nothing gets broken or otherwise messed up so this makes things even more challenging, like Bandou is about to hide in a wine cabinet and almost knocks over a bottle. He grabs it quickly before it can break only to almost knock down another one, he’s eventually found by Anna attempting to stop multiple wine bottles from shattering. Yata meanwhile finds himself a good crawl space and feels pretty proud of his hiding space until Anna finds him because ‘Misaki is the only one small enough to fit in here.’

Imagine eventually she finds everyone except Mikoto, of course all the Homra guys are impressed that their King hid so well. Totsuka gives Anna a knowing smile and says she gave King until last, right, and Anna nods. She walks over to the couch and pulls off the blanket covering it, and of course there’s Mikoto fast asleep where he’s been the entire time. Totsuka applauds good job Anna you found everyone and Anna smiles as she sits next to Mikoto, asking if they can play again sometime.