#really should have figured that out earlier

[urbaebarnes]

Ok but since Thunderbolts is coming out soon, how about something where Reader is either his campaign manager, or secretary, or like his handler when he makes appearances and somehow Bucky trusts her more than anyone else on his staff, so he invites her as his plus one to the Gala.

If you want to make it angsty/throw in some action, you could have Valentina sabotage his date at the gala by slipping something in her drink or having her goons tail reader home afterwards. 👀👀👀

Anyway, hope this gives you some inspiration! No pressure to use this tho

AHHHH i actually lysm for this!! thank you for sending me this and basically i got carried away so i'm gonna be splitting this up into like 2/3 different parts which should be out soon!

anyway i basically have the first half of the request in here and the rest will be in the next one! i love love love this idea so much and the new pictures that came out of him in thunderbolts has me in a chokehold like okay we see u babes

also i know very little about UK politics and even lass about US and my limited knowledge of media officers all comes form F1 so this probably makes no sense if your a professional in any of them but shhh its okay we move

Two Hearts: part 1

congressman bucky barnes x pr manager fem reader warnings: no use of y/n, she/her pronouns used, probably curse words (maybe not idk) word count: 1.3k words

You’d started out as his PR manager, for the first few months, that’s all you were to him, and he swore by that, he really did. But somewhere along the way, you’d become something much more, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

It didn’t start when you first entered the office, you were a breath of fresh air to the mundane office, but you were just new. Your desk was filled with little trinkets colourful sticky notes plastered over the frame of your computer monitor. But all Bucky thought was that you were sweet.

But then you had to start coming places with him, and doing interviews just off camera so he could look to you for help, and all of a sudden your sweetness became a buoy, something to desperately grasp onto as he felt he was sinking into the depths of the interviewer's questions. Even if you didn’t need to step in, your presence was always calming enough that he knew exactly how to handle it, a situation he’d found himself in too few a time in his life.

So what, you became something along the line of a friend for him, someone he could confide in and sort of trust. Which meant a lot coming from a man who spent months trying to let goddamn Sam in, and you did it within a few weeks.

Somehow throughout the campaign, he couldn’t stop himself from letting you weasel yourself into the list of his most dearest. Between your reassuring smiles and little gifts and honestly just you, Bucky felt like you could very possibly be his person. Sometimes you could just be there and it would put the tiniest of smiles on his face, sending you a little wave across a crowded bar- and yeah Sam would take the piss out of him for it, but he’d gotten past Sam’s endless teasing a while ago.

That bar had become a weird sort of crossover point for your and Bucky’s life outside of work. Sometimes you’d sit with your friend when you finished a little earlier or occasionally a group, Bucky noted he never saw you with a boyfriend but wasn’t really sure why his brain would even think that. He and Sam would meet there after long days at work and oftentimes, you and your friends would be regulars in the crowded building, lazing by the bar as you drank together.

You’d never talk to each other in there, but it seemed that the other was constantly in your eyeline, always watching, subtly checking in. But after a few of these nights, Bucky couldn’t stop his eyes wandering to your figure all night. Sam was twittering about something or another, and he tried to focus, he really did, but how was he supposed to do that when you were sat a few seats away, looking so captivating.

Sam had stopped talking halfway through, not that Bucky had noticed, and instead started laughing as he watched the unusually stone cold exterior of his friend crumble as he longingly stared at your back. “Dude, you're whipped!” He’d managed to get out between his breathless laughs.

Sam’s words had managed to catch his attention, gaze flicking from you to him as the words set in and his brow furrowed. “What- I’m not-”

Despite his protests and insistent denials of having any sort of interest in you in that way, Bucky Sam persisted and eventually, it took more energy to deny it than let Sam have his fun - or at least that’s what Bucky said to himself. And sure that little flutter in his chest he felt whenever you smiled felt as if it grew every single goddamn day, he still couldn’t quite bring himself to admit that he had a crush on you.

But even if he did, it would be wrong and immoral, he was trying to represent a need for change, present to the country why he could be trusted, and you were supposed to help, not make him fall into some strange tango of emotions with you. But you did, and it wasn’t your fault, he didn’t think he could fault you for the goddamn end of the world if you caused it.

So when he needed a plus one to a gala, you were the only logical answer. He trusted you above everybody else who worked with him, and maybe he wanted an excuse to see you outside of your office or press conference or interview rooms. Bucky wanted a glimpse of you he’d seen at the bar with your friends, he just wanted a taste of the life he wished he could have with you.

Your office was a place he’d enjoyed being in more and more as the past few months had occurred. The photo frames on your desk were scattered and everything had a slight messiness that brought a feeling of coziness. He’d often find reasons to linger in there, so it wasn't out of character when he appeared one day.

“Morning.” You greeted him with a smile after his polite knocks, sipping on your coffee, one hand wrapped around your kermit the frog mug whilst typing out an email to a news agency with your other. Bucky had nodded, he was usually less talkative in the mornings -which you’d taken a note of to move any media prep to the afternoons. You blew on the steaming mug before tilting your head, “You good?”

He’d sat himself on the sage green couch tucked in the corner of the room and smiled softly at you before relying. “I have a question for you.”

Immediately, you placed your mug on the coaster and stopped typing, letting your arms cross over the wooden desk, elbow brushing the wrapper of one of those breakfast bars you liked so much. He’d made sure to stock up the kitchen after finding out your habit of snacking on them. “Ask away.”

Now, Bucky Barnes wasn’t generally a nervous man,or at least not when it came to women, but you managed to make it seem like asking you to be his +1 was a life or death event, as though the decision itself would alter the way the earth spins on its axis. Which to him, it may well have.

Bucky avoided your eyes, glancing just past your head at the drapes that were tied beside your large windows looking out into the city. “That gala I have to go to next month, the fundraising one, I don’t- erm…”

You let out a sigh as you leant forward on your arms, lips pursed. “Bucky, you have to go. It’s too late now, I can’t get you out of it, if you’d told me a few days ago then maybe but-”

“No, no, you have it wrong.” He quickly interrupted, shaking his head, “No, I was going to say that I don’t have a plus one, and I would be really grateful and forever in your debt if you’d possibly…” He trailed off again, scrunching his nose and finally meeting your eyes, “Go with me?”

You blinked once.

Then twice.

And finally a third time before you managed to move your head, looking behind you out the window once before looking back at him. “What? You want me to-?” You stopped abruptly, seeing the serious look on his face, his eyes looking straight at you, as though reading your mind.

You’d wondered if he had that superpower a few times before, especially when you first started, which would’ve been a nightmare seeing as at the beginning of your role here, you struggled to hold yourself up when around him. Bucky Barnes was -to put it simply- gorgeous. Everything you’d ever looked for in a man was right in front of you in the body of your boss, and if he could read minds, well you’d ruled that out seeing as you most likely would’ve been fired by now.

Your voice lowered as a small smile made its way onto your lips, knowing it probably meant nothing, but at the same time, it meant everything to you. “If you’d like me to, I’d love to.”

[hellvst]

OFFSEASON – quinn hughes

featuring ; quinn hughes x fmc (sydney gray)

✮⋆˙ warning & content ; swearing

✮⋆˙ word count ; 3.7k

✮⋆˙ previous chapter – series masterlist – next chapter

a/n ; woohoo quinn's back & it's not just luke for hughesbowl lol! not really proof-read. happy reading <3

CHAPTER FIVE

QUINN

Simon: ‘Touch my sister, and you’re dead.’

Simon: ‘She’s off-limits, so don’t even think about it, Hughes.’

I woke up to a very cryptic text from Simon. A threat, really.

My eyes idle at it for a long moment, then tossed my phone back onto my nightstand and rubbed my hands down my face.

What the fuck did that even mean?

Simon never texted me ever, not once in our years together with the Canucks. He never had the reason to reach out to me. So, he most likely got my number from our team’s group chat–which I had to be very active on as the captain. 

The team and I sent messages to each other, updated each other during breaks or days off, hockey shit, and a few memes here and there. Simon never responded to it, maybe once or twice, but almost never. 

The only time he would text in the chat was when he had something to show off to the guys. Typical. 

I didn’t bother answering him. I figured I’d get my answer when I saw Sydney later today, but that text threw me off guard. 

Sydney Gray.

During the few days after officially meeting her, I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that she was the cafe girl from weeks ago. On top of that, she was our trainer and–worst of all–she was Simon’s sister. How does one cope with all that information dumped onto them all at once?

But, she wasn’t anything like I’d imagined.

The few times I overheard Simon talking about her over the years, I’d expected her to be just as lively, stubborn, and prideful as her brother. Sure, they had the same spunk and shared some traits with one another. But she was nothing like that at all.

Sydney was more level-headed, quieter, and dry-witted. The complete opposite to Simon.

If Simon was all fire, then Sydney would be ice. Not cold…just more controlled.

When I showed up to the Lumé Wellness studio days ago, I was fully prepared to at least tolerate her–and Simon–just to get through the summer. But what I didn’t expect to find out was that the same girl I had met at the café–who I couldn’t stop thinking about–was siblings with the one person who had it out for me.

I wasn’t sure why Simon thought otherwise and was implying that I had a ‘thing’ for his sister. This thing between me and her was strictly professional, nothing more and nothing less. 

I had no intention of going for Sydney Gray.

So why were you eager to leave this Canuck’s campaign shoot to get to the studio earlier to see her?

I scoffed at the little voices in my head. Shut the hell up.

As soon as I arrived at Lumé Wellness not long after the shoot, I walked in the same studio room from the other day, but stopped by the door frame when I saw her.

Sydney was already stretching on the mats, bobbing her head to the rhythm of the music blasting through the speakers.

“Rihanna? What happened to Michael Jackson?” My voice cuts through the music, just enough for her to hear me. 

Sydney turned to face me. Our eyes collided, causing me to stand upright by the door. 

She looked surprised at me as she stood up to turn the volume down. “I didn’t think you’d ever listen to a Rihanna song.” 

“Oh come on, Gray. Way to underestimate me.” I said as I placed my stuff on the floor, next to hers. “I don’t live under a rock.”

“I highly doubt that.” She smirked.

I found my spot next to her and started following her stretches, keeping one eye on her as she moved through the routine with ease.

For a moment, we fell into a comfortable silence, the soft hum of the speaker filling the space. 

The stretch had become routine now, something that should have felt mindless. But as I reached down towards my toes, feeling the familiar pull in my hamstrings, my gaze flicked to the clock on the wall. 1:17 PM. Simon was late. 

I recalled the events that happened on Monday, when Simon got an emergency call from his wife and left the session early. Then Sydney mentioned that he was going to be a father soon. It made me realize, even as teammates for the past few years, that I really knew nothing about him at all.

I exhaled through my nose holding the pose as I glanced at Sydney. She was focused, rolling out her shoulders, which I noticed she always did before we started.

“Is Simon coming?” I finally asked.

Sydney paused for a second, then shook her head. “No, not today. Or–” she tilted her head. “–at all, actually.”

I gave her a confused look. “What do you mean?”

Was I missing something here?

“Simon’s wife is going into labour,” she started, sighing. “He left for California the same night he got the call. Your coach okayed his leave and he’s officially out for the summer. So, that means it’s just the two of us now.”

Now that explained the random-ass text I woke up to this morning.

If I hadn’t been so groggy and barely awake, I would’ve understood that more clearly. But now, hearing Sydney say that Simon was officially out of the cross-training sessions, it made more sense.

“Wait,” I said, my brows clashing together. “Then why are we still doing this? If Simon’s out, doesn’t that mean we should–”

Sydney shook her head, denying my question before finishing it. “Grace said the agreements between the studio and the Canucks were already signed and the program was already paid for. There was no going back just because one person had to make a sudden leave.” 

“Right.” I stood up straight, finishing my stretches, and turned to face her. “And you’re okay with this?”

I was only curious about what she thought in light of recent events. I mean, I don’t blame her for being upset or annoyed that this was how things turned out. It wasn’t ideal for the both of us given her slight tinge of annoyance in her voice while she was explaining. 

What if she was looking forward to it? Nah, who was I kidding? Of course she wasn’t.

Sydney shrugged her shoulders as we exchanged glances. “It’s not like I had a choice.”

Oh come on, don't look so disappointed.

I pressed my lips into a thin line. “I guess there’s no point in fighting it. So now it’s just you and me.” 

She only nodded, “Yeah.”

I let out a slow breath, settling onto the reformer before Sydney demonstrated an exercise using the carriage and the foot rest. 

This whole thing was getting more complicated than I wanted it to be.

I wasn’t opposed to the idea of having one-on-one training with Sydney–as much as I hate to admit it, I enjoyed the first session more than I expected. But that wasn’t the point.

I also couldn’t stop thinking about how I could be in Michigan right now.

Spending time with my brothers, training with my dad, cooking with my mom, playing pool in the basement, getting out on the lake, watching the on-going Stanley Cup finals–although, it would've been difficult for me to watch knowing our team could’ve been playing on the big stage as well.

The point was, if I didn’t have to be here, I could be back home. Living out the off-season like I always did.

Instead, I was in Vancouver, about to suffer through another session with Sydney Gray. 

“So, are you ready to start for real this time?” Sydney asked once I finished a few sets of the first exercise. “Because you said last time this wasn’t difficult enough for you.”

I will admit, just from that first exercise, I was definitely starting to feel it. But I tried to conceal that from her. “Did I say that? I don’t exactly remember.”

“Yes, you did.” She tapped the frame of my reformer. “Let’s see if you still think that today.”

I didn’t.

We started the real session, and I immediately knew I was in for it.

The reformer exercises were harder than last time. During the first day here, I had held my own, keeping up with whatever Sydney threw at me. I thought it was easier than I assumed, but clearly not since those were only the basic workouts.

Not halfway through the next few exercises when my muscles were burning. My legs shook as I pushed through another rep, my arms were going limp as I struggled to maintain my form.

Sydney noticed. Of course she did.

“Are you sure these aren’t that difficult for you?” she asked, the smirk in her voice making me want to push and power through it out of spite.

I gritted my teeth. “Yeah. Don’t mind me.”

She let out a soft laugh but didn’t say anything else. The sight of me having a hard time was her new source of entertainment.

By the time we finished and hit the end of the session, I was sweating more than I wanted to admit, my breathing a little heavier than it should have been. 

“So, was that enough of a challenge? You look pretty banged up.” Sydney folded her arms, obviously pleased with herself–I was a mess in front of her.

I shot her a look, pretending like that hadn’t absolutely kicked my ass. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, playing it off. “Barely felt it.”

“Sure…” I heard her mumble out.

She began picking up her things, indicating that our time was up. 

I waited for her by the door of the room, watching as she fetched her water bottle before walking towards me. We yet again found ourselves walking side by side in the hallway.

Not too sure why I did that the first time around–waiting for her. It was like an unspoken rule between us, like we didn’t want to end our conversation just yet. Or maybe it was just me. Most definitely.

I glanced around the studio as we walked in silence. Like the last time I was here, the studio was so empty that it was eerily quiet. No other clients, with the exception of a few other instructors lounging around. And us.

“Where is everyone?” I asked. “Why aren’t there any other classes happening?”

Sydney looked around before shrugging. “Grace said it’s for safety precautions. We clear out the studio before and after your sessions.” 

Well that’s a bit much.

I blinked. “Why?”

“Apparently,” she started. “The studio can’t afford to have too many people know about your special training here.” 

My eyes widen a bit, taken aback. “For me?”

She nodded. “I guess they didn’t want to risk the media circus or something.”

I took that in, feeling a strange mix of appreciation and guilt.

They went through all of this for me, to make it easier for me. They didn’t have to, but they still did.

At the same time, I understood why they couldn’t risk it. I’d had moments before where reporters caught me outside of hockey, anywhere in public really. Fans stopping me for pictures and autographs wasn’t anything new, I didn't mind that. But to this extent? Where would they clear out a whole studio for me?

That was an overkill. I didn’t think I was that much of a celebrity for it. I was sure I could handle it if anything did happen–

I spoke too soon.

The second Sydney and I reached the foyer to the front doors, we were swarmed and blinded by flashing cameras from the other side of the glass doors–deafened by the voices overlapping as questions were thrown at me from all directions.

“Quinn! How do you feel about losing in the second round of the playoffs?”

“Quinn! Quinn! When did you start taking Pilates?”

“Rumors say that you’re training with Simon Gray this summer. Is this true?”

“Is she your girlfriend?”

"Quinn! Are you two hooking up?"

I tensed, my jaw clenching as I stared at the sea of reporters and photographers in front of us. I had thought I was in the clear on my way here from the arena. I guess not considering that they found me here. 

How?

I have dealt with this kind of thing before, but never in my life like this. Never where I felt trapped or confided. And I hated it–the sudden ambushes, invading my space, making me want to just flip them off–but I couldn’t do that.

And then I looked over to Sydney.

She was stiff beside me, her eyes wide, her breathing slightly shaky. Anxiety and discomfort was written all over her face, and I knew she wasn’t used to this. She didn’t deserve to deal with it.

I had to get us out of here. Fast.

Without thinking, I reached for her arm and pulled her back into the hallway. “Is there another way out?”

“Back exit, through there.” Another voice cuts in, I glanced and recognized the woman who was presumed to be the owner of the studio. Grace–was it? “I’ll handle them. Go. Now.”

Sydney and I nodded quickly, not wasting a second leading her through the hall, navigating through the studio, moving faster than I thought possible after the workout I just finished.

We made it out the back door, into the back alleyway of the studio, and carefully walked towards the other end of the building.

I peeked around the corner, enough to see the mob still crowding the front.

Grace was out there, stepping outside the studio doors, trying to get them to leave. But it wasn’t working as they continued to press on her.

“Shit,” she said under her breath. “My car is parked right in front of them. They’ll definitely see me if I make a run for it.”

In my head, I tired coming up with different ways to get–

One of the reporters turned, locking their eyes on me. Fuck.

There was no time to think.

“Follow me.” I said, my hand finding hers, clasped together tightly, as she ran with me to my car.

Sydney slid into the passenger seat, then I immediately started the engine, pulling out of the lot before anyone of the reporters could catch up. I wasn’t even sure where I was driving. I just knew I needed to get us out of here.

The car ride was quiet for a moment, save for the faint hum of the engine and the distant sound of traffic as I drove away from the chaos.

I kept my eyes in front of me, but I could see her in my peripheral. Sydney was staring out the window, her hands still clenched into fists in her lap. She was trying to calm down, so I gave her the space to do that. 

I was anxious about how she was feeling, most likely feeling all sorts of emotions. But the last thing she needed was me bombarding her with questions.

After a long while, Sydney let out a slow breath. “Thank you for what you did back there. I wouldn’t have known what to do if it weren’t for you.”

I took my eyes off the road for a second, glancing at her. “You okay?”

She let out a slow breath and nodded. “Yeah. Just…probably didn’t expect my first encounter with the media to be this crazy.” She shook her head slightly, like she couldn’t believe what had just happened. Then she turned to look at me. “Does that happen to you often?”

“No. Not like this.” I admitted, but I found it hard to believe that she had never experienced something like that–considering who her brother was. “You’ve really never had this happen to you? I figured you’d have to deal with it before since Simon gets swarmed all the time.” 

Her brother had been in the league longer than I have, and let’s just say, he wasn’t exactly media-trained. Reporters loved to leech on Simon, always trying to get him to slip up, to say something worth putting on the articles. I mean, it was his fault for giving the reporters nothing to work with during post-game interviews. The guy was a walking soundbite, whether he meant to be or not. 

If she was related to him, surely, she would have been dragged into it at some point.

Sydney sighed, leaning her head against the seat. “Simon and I don’t really get involved in each other’s lives like that. As much as I stay out of his hockey career, he stays out of mine too. We have our own things, our own spaces, we don’t overlap much.”

“So you never go to the games? Or attend family events?”

“Maybe one or two games in his whole career. The only time we really spend together is at each other’s house or when we text and call.” 

“You two are pretty close then.”

“Yeah, well, we try our best to be. We grew up here in Vancouver with our parents, so we were naturally close. Even though Simon was three years older than me and played sports on the ice together as kids, we still got along well. He was like my built-in best friend. Always looking out for me.”

Although I hated that the conversation was about Simon, I could easily get lost in Sydney’s voice. It was less about the subject–her brother–and more about her. Just the way she spoke–soft, thoughtful, unguarded. 

I could listen to her talk all day.

But then something she said caught my attention, and I wasn’t going to dismiss it either. 

“Wait, sports on the ice?” I repeated her words, my grip on the wheel tightening. “Did you play hockey too?”

Sydney hesitated. I saw the flicker of uncertainty cross her face, the way she tensed faintly like she revealed something she hadn’t meant to.

I was about to take it back, tell her she didn’t have to answer, but then she spoke.

“No, I didn’t play hockey,” she paused before continuing. “For as long as I can remember, we both grew up on the ice together. While Simon had hockey, I had figure skating. I’ve been a figure skater for almost half of my life and then I quit years ago when I was eighteen.”

I slowly nodded, not missing the way she said it–regret, maybe?–like there was something more to it. I figured if she wanted to talk about it more, she would. So I knew better than to push on the matter.

Still, the fact that she had a background in skating–that was something I never would have guessed. It was weird. I hadn’t thought I would ever get a glimpse into Sydney’s life like this. At first, she seemed so closed off and had her wall up from anyone trying to break their way in. 

But now that she was opening up, I was more intrigued than ever.

I was so lost in my thoughts while my gaze was still on her, that I barely realized that the lights were changing and she noticed. Shit.

“Quit staring and eyes on the road, Hughes.”

I snapped my attention forward, just in time for the light to turn green, pressed my foot on the gas. 

Clearing my throat, I scrambled to cover up the fact I had been caught staring at her. “We can’t go back to the studio. Not if the reporters are still there.”

Sydney checked the time on her phone and sighed. “Yeah, I figured. It wouldn’t be a smart idea to head back right now.”

I paused before asking. “Did you have plans later?”

“Yeah, sort of. I was supposed to meet my friend at her workplace after training today.”

I thought about it for a second. I still had about an hour to kill before my own training. Considering what happened earlier, I owed it to her. And besides, I still haven't made it up to her for ruining her hoodie the first time we met.

“I can drive you there.”

She paused, giving me a look. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to.”

For a long while, Sydney eventually caved in, as if deciding it wasn’t worth arguing about.

She handed her phone over with the address, and the moment I saw it, recognition hit me instantly. It was the arena was the same place I was heading to for practice. 

“Funny story actually,” I paused. “I’m heading to the exact arena for practice.”

“Oh, that’s convenient.” Sydney said, her expression was unreadable. “Are you sure? I could just bus–”

“Gray, I am completely sure. Just let me do this for you, please?”

She seemed very reluctant to accept any offers from me–first the hoodie, now this. I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing, but gave me a short nod and didn’t say anything more. 

My curiosity was starting to get the better of me, though. “Do you often not let other people help you? Or is it just towards me?”

“Just to you, Hughes. And It’s definitely on purpose.” Sydney said.

I caught the corners of her lips curve in my peripheral, making me chuckle at her words. “I believe that. You know, since you don’t need anything from an NHL player and all.”

She gave me a look once I repeated what she had said to me during our first encounter.

Sydney rolled her eyes, “How do you still remember that? Seems like ages ago.”

I shrugged. “It’s easy when you’re not that hard to forget, Gray.”

She was quick to turn her head out towards the window, shaking her head with a small laugh, not commenting any further. So instead, I chose to let it go and focused on driving.

Then my mind wandered back to what she had said about her friend that she was going to meet up with. 

If her friend worked at the arena, then maybe I worked or knew of them. A trainer? An employee? Maybe even a player? God, I hope it’s not someone I already knew.

Instead of keeping my thoughts to myself, I asked her. “What does your friend do at the arena?” 

Sydney simply smiled, glancing at me. “I guess you’ll have to wait and see.”

all rights reserved © 2025 hellvst. please do not copy, translate, or modify my works in any platform.

[cawslew]

BSD: SUNRISE NAVIGATION POST

The day Atsushi and Dazai meet...

[AO3 LINK]

It had been exactly four years since she left, and not a single day has passed without Atsushi's mind wandering back to her.

Even now, as he sat on the damp ground, morning dew seeping into his pants as the crisp September air of Zephyr was biting into his skin, her absence clung to him like a phantom that would not let go.

The river stretched out before him, sun rising above the water illuminating the soft oranges and golds on it's surface. Reminding him of the long dark night where his body ached and his mouth tasted of blood, when the only proof that he was not really in the depths of hell was the rising sun over the horizon. Always indifferent to his suffering.

He was hurt. Other people were hurt. Yet the world kept spinning.

There used to be a time when he watched those sunrises with her. Now however, all he had was an old, mangled phone charm. So worn and disfigured that it was nearly unrecognizable in what it used to be. So loved and cherish that it is no longer the same.

Was this what truly love was?

To be changed by someone, to be left with pieces of them long after they were gone? To be destroyed even in the gentlest of hands?

Nevertheless he batted away the thought, sighing at it. He'd tried his best to live as she asked, to save people, to make a difference, to scrub away the blood on his hands even if it was a rotten work. To live the way she wished him to.

But. No matter how much he did, how much he tried and do what felt right, it was never enough. Not to him at the very least. Leaving him in a state of wonder if she would have liked the life he's leading a lot more then him. If she was here instead of here, she would have been happier.

Atsushi closed his dual colored eyes, focusing his senses on the sounds around him, the whispers of the wind, rhythm of the water, every now and then even a humm of a passing car, loud clatter of a train, eve somewhere behind him a military squad had jobbed by earlier, their boots thudding heavily against the pavement.

And then-

A splash.

His eyes snapped open instantly.

For just a single moment he thought he might have imagined it. Then he saw them…. two legs floating on the waters surface upwards, with the current pulling them under, bit by bit.

Huh?

Atsushi stared.

Someone's…. drowning???

His body moved before his mind caught up.

The shock of cold water hit him as he moved towards the sinking figure. His hands grasping onto the fabric, with sharp pulls he dragged the person back towards the riverbank, forcing them onto the solid ground.

The man looked barely conscious, his dark hair plastered to his bruised face. Atsushi caught his breath, then pressed two fingers against the man’s neck, searching for a pulse. It was weak, but it was there.

A soft buzz spread against his fingers at the skin contact.

Atsushi leaned in, checking for breath, but just as he did so, the man lunched upwards with a sharp gasp, nearly colliding with Atsushi in the process if he had not pushed himself away.

Dark red eyes meet the purple-gold.

They stared at each other for a good while, none of them speaking up.

The man blinked blearily. Then, as if only just processing that he's in-fact alive, a mutter left his cold lips, "Ah."

A beat.

"Ah," he muttered again, slightly louder this time. "I'm alive."

Atsushi, dripping wet and cold, "Yeah. The current must have swept you up," he stated "You should be more careful."

The man turned his head in a jagged way to look at him fully, gaze slow as if trying to piece what had happened. Then, after a long pause, he let out sharp and annoyed "Damn."

"Excuse me?" Atsushi frowned.

The man flopped back onto the grass with a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms over his chest as he glared at the sky. “That was the point.”

"What." He blinked, unsure if he’d heard him correctly.

"I was meant to drown" his tone was lecturing, as if Atsushi was the idiot here.

"Well, congratulations," he said flatly. "You failed."

The other just let our an exaggerated sigh "How tragic" he whined.

Atsushi pushed himself up to his feet wringling out his sleeves. He looked up and down the man, he wasn't anything special, more so reminded him of a drowned cat. He didn't even has any shoes, only mismatched socks. "Look, I don't know what's going on with you and honestly I don't have the tie for this. Just… don't do it again, get a therapist or something."

He was rewarded with a noncommited humm.

"Im serious."

"Im sure you are."

The white haired man already could feel a migraine coming his way "You got a name?"

Black hair titled this head lazily, as if evaluating if he should give his name in the first place." Dazai. Dazai Osamu."

Atushi eyed him, just for a moment before nodding at him "Right. Well, Dazai-kun, I-"

"I suppose that makes me your responsibility now," Dazai cut in without a care. His tone was just as carelss as his posture, one leg stretched out while the other was bent, his smirk couldn't be even descriibed as smug, but more so lazy.

"What." he seemd to be saying that quite a lot when interacting with the youngin.

Dazai stretched his arms over his head, looking completely ar east despite being int the soaked state and being half-drowned a minute ago. "You saved me. That means you've got to take care of me now."

"That's… not how this works," Atsushi stared at him, unblinnkingly, his words said slowly as if he was talking to a child.

"Isn't it?" The other turned to him fully now, a faint smirk gracing his lips. "You pulled me out of that river. You stopped me from dying. Now I have nowhere to go and no one to turn to." amusement was evident in the other "You wouldn't just leave me after all that effort would you?"

Serval different responses ran through his head, sure Atsushi could leave, he probably should. But, a little part of him that was still hung on what he promised was whispering, take him in, she wouldn't want you to abandon someone in need.

And even Atsushi himself was not a man who leaves someone behind. He never had been. Never wanted to leave those in need. He could feel the phantom weight of a worn charm in his hand.

Atsushi rubbed the bridge of his nose "Im not babysitting you." it could have been a rejection "But fine."

Dazai grinned, slow and sharp "Oh, I wouldnt dream of it."

Somehow Atsushi didn't believe him.

[thenyoukeepliving]

The Five Love Languages: Stupid Rabbit Edition

S/G: i fucking hate the stupid rabbit yall……..

A/N: I have a uni class called Social Skills Development and we were talking about relationships and the main love languages. Naturally, I spent almost the entire class thinking about how these would apply to the bnnuy rabt. Then I did the same in my next class… then I came home and turned those thoughts into whatever this is – instead of studying for my three upcoming exams.

I’m also writing this intro two days after completing the whole thing, when I’m also supposed to be studying. Am I going to pass any of these exams? Should I be making better choices? Will I ever succeed in anything in life like this? Do I even care? Let’s not find out! 

So anyway, enjoy! My academic achievements certainly won’t!

CW: none | asshole rabbit (affectionate) | prompts are NOT cohesive AT ALL | also I think I tend to write Jax a bit OOC so be aware of that I guess?

Word count: 1571

Gift Giving

“Oh wow, a gift? From me? To you?” He smirks, handing you a tiny, glittery box. You open it to find... a single peanut.

“I got you a present.” He holds out a tiny piece of paper with ‘You Suck’ written on it.

“I found this and figured you’d like it.” Hands you one of Zooble's parts that he stole from them earlier.

“Here, I made this for you.” Gives you a poorly drawn doodle of you with “Dumbo” written above it. (It’s actually kinda cute.)

He tosses something at you without warning. You barely catch it, looking down to see... a single, slightly crumpled flower. “Eh, it was in my way.” He shrugs, avoiding eye contact.

“Pfft, no, I didn’t get that for you. It just appeared out of nowhere. Weird, huh?” He says after gifting you something genuinely nice but refusing to take credit for it.

Jax casually flips you a small, shiny bracelet. You realize it’s the one you lost a while ago in the circus during the gloink adventure. “Found it,” he says, walking off before you can react.

Words of Affirmation

“Wow, you suck at this.”

“Huh. Guess you’re not completely useless.” After you do something impressive.

You make a self-deprecating joke about yourself. Jax frowns, his ears slightly twitching. “Okay, no. I refuse to let you talk about yourself like that.”

You mess up something huge during an adventure, making everything more difficult for the whole group. Your face is flushing with embarrassment. Jax leans against the wall, barely suppressing a laugh. “Yikes. That was so bad I almost wanna be nice to you. Almost.”

“Ugghh, why do I even like you? Oh, right. Because you’re so great and cool and all that other annoying stuff.” Gives you the biggest side eye.

“No, no, no, don’t give up now! You’re my main source of entertainment!”

Quality Time

“Wow, alone time? In this economy?” (You've JUST sat down to do something on your own.)

Wordlessly follows you around for hours. When you finally ask why, he shrugs. “Dunno. Just seeing how long it takes for you to snap.”

OR you're reading a book on the couch. Jax is just sitting on the other end, staring at you like a creep. “So how long are you planning to do this?”

“What? You’re busy? Nah, c’mon, whatever it is can wait. I gotta show you something.”

You decide to take a walk by yourself to clear your head. After just two minutes, Jax appears beside you out of nowhere. “Did you really think I wouldn’t follow you?

You're trying to focus on something, but Jax keeps lingering over your shoulder and walking in circles around you like a clueless puppy. Finally, you snap and give him a groan. "What? We’re bonding. This is quality time."

BONUS, if somehow you'd have phones: He randomly yoinks your phone out of your hand while you're using it. “You’re welcome. It’s called being present, ever heard of it?”

Acts of Service

Steals your things so you “learn independence.”

Sneaks in your room and rearranges your stuff just because it "looked off." ((((based on this post of Jax's very organised room from @backtothedrawingboard hehe))))

You’re struggling to reach something on a high shelf. Jax smirks, grabs it easily, and then holds it just out of your reach. “Oh, you wanted this?”

“I technically helped you, so, y’know, you owe me now. And I'm definitely cashing that in later.”

"I’m practically doing all the work here. Just saying." (Does literally 1% of whatever it is that needs to be done.)

You’re carrying a bunch of stuff, struggling. Jax takes exactly one item from your arms. “There ya go. Better?”

Jax hands you something before you even ask for it.  “How’d you– ?” You blink.  “I pay attention. Sometimes.” He grins. 

Physical Touch

Flicks your forehead out of nowhere – “Just checkin’ if your brain’s still in there.” 

OR flicks your nose for no reason – “Dunno, just felt like it.”

Pokes your cheek repeatedly. “Just makin’ sure you’re real.” (None of you are.)

Ruffles your hair and immediately messes it up, making you groan his name in annoyance – “Nah, looks better like this.”

Casually throws an arm around your shoulders. “Look at us. Best buds.”

“Whoa, careful there.” After he stuck his foot out to trip you, but caught you last second.

Drags a single finger down your arm just to see you shiver. “Ticklish, huh?” (He's a 100% aware of this already.)

“Ughhh, standing is so hard.” Leans on you dramatically.

[accidentcache]

Late night confession with keigo

confession prompt list + i wrote half of this on my laptop and the other on my phone can u tell

every monday, tuesday and friday you meet with keigo and share an order of chicken skewers on the roof of the agency. it started out as his guilty pleasure, it's a cheap stand just a block away-- the meat isn't nearly as good as the usual place he gets chicken from; but it's close and they're fast. fast enough that he can dip down and grab an order and be back and within ear's reach in case he was needed for something.

ever since you caught him months ago, you've been indulging him in this little activity-- eating about four skewers as you watch the sun dip below the skyline of the city. the two of you talk (keigo more than you, but you're starting to open up more) and by the time the sun is down, it's the end of your shift and you depart to clock out for the day.

keigo is nothing but sweet on you. everyone in the agency knows it, they can see it. it's obvious-- you're his favorite.

you weren't always on his radar. when you started as just a lowly intern, he barely saw you at first-- literally and figuratively. he was just a busy guy and you were trying to keep up with him.

but keigo has come to admire your dedication. years you've spent at his agency, promotion after promotion-- until you landed the position as his personal assistant. if he didn't notice you before, he definetly paid attention to you then.

and from that moment on, to be honest.

he's paid attention to the little quirks you have that have become so painfully obvious to him. how you lick your thumb every fifth sheet on papers that you’re filing, how you take one half ‘n half and one french vanilla creamer serving while making your coffee in the break room in the morning. you never use the microwave. you always hand him a blue pen first instead of a black one.

you always sit on the left side of the couch in his office, and you always take your hair down the moment you’re clocked out for the night.

even nights like this— friday, the city is buzzing with drunk patrons and night life; he can’t help but take looks at you. you were scheduled a double today, he could tell you were practically buzzing when he met you out in the usual spot.

he wonders why you haven’t called him out about staring at you for as much as he has been tonight. are you really that exhausted? should he have sent you home earlier when things were slower and didn’t need you to stick around?

the slouch of your spine says yes. you lean back onto a palm, sliding another bite of chicken off the stick with your teeth before you’re chewing again, zoned out on the skyline.

it’s late. you should be in bed, it’s going on 11:30 and keigo knows both of you have an early morning of interviews and meetings ahead of you. keigo doesn’t think you’d make it home if you drove yourself and wonders if he should offer to fly you to your apartment.

but for some reason— with as busy and hectic and chaotic as his life is— he finds himself breathing so easily. his head feels empty in such a good way, floating above the crowds without even using his wings.

something about this, right now— you— feels right.

“i think i like you,” his mouth moves and forms syllables before his brain can function and stop them.

a small chuckle leaves your lips, and your head tilts towards him. “i like you too,” you reply— though yours isn’t a confession. at least not like his. “i would hope so, i am your assistant.”

keigo stiffens ever so slightly. his grip tightens on the cheap styrofoam container that your shared late night snack came in, and his eyes finally dart away from your form. “not like that,” he mutters.

your brows scrunch together minutely, and your lips part with words on the tip of your tongue. you find yourself unable to really say anything in response.

“i think i… like you,” he repeats, lower this time. quieter, but more firm. sincere and almost embarrassed.

for the first time, you find yourself stuttering in front of him.

you’ve always been good with words. you know exactly what to say and when to say things, you’ve spoken on his behalf at so many meetings and at broadcasts. you’ve never shown the country that you’re capable of shaking in your boots.

keigo’s never seen you look so startled before. “i’m sorry,” he’s immediately apologizing, his expression melting to one of distraught embarrassment. “that was unprofessional of me, i’m your boss; i should’ve known better—“

your head dips down to look at the watch on your wrist. your cheeks are warm in the slight glow from the tiny screen and keigo feels a tiny flutter in his chest.

“i clock out in seven minutes.”

keigo’s eyebrows knit together. “you’re not going to acknowledge my apology?”

your head tilts, a sigh leaving your mouth in response. you yawn— but keigo can tell that it’s forced. he feels like his blood pumps faster through his veins. is this what it feels like to be rejected? is this what happens when you confess and get turned down?

“i might need a ride home,” you say after a beat, stretching your limbs in a way that keigo is all too late to pick up on as a hint. he can only stare at you, his expression confused, eyebrows drawn so tightly together you would think they’ve connected by now.

you stare back at him. a silent challenge is offered.

do you want to talk this out?

five minutes now.

both of you continue to stare at each other, keigo still looks somewhat confused. you guess you’ll have to spell it out for him in another subtle way.

“can you fly me home, hawks? i think i’m too tired to drive.”

© accidentcache do not repost, translate or alter my work without permission. all rights reserved.

[inkshadow]

"yeah, it's really no problem. i can see several advantages to the height thing, though. you really don't have to look all that hard." not that he's about to ramble any of them off, all too eager to slide out of his clothes and step inside the shower. "i hear she's a bitch to girls once a month though. you can say no, you know. if you keep leaving it up to me, i probably won't ever leave you alone. a heads up for the future." a shrug and hands grip onto the hem of his shirt, easily tugging it off his person to start a dirty pile in the bathroom upon stepping in. was it to maybe bait her into deciding for herself? maybe, but given her reaction to his earlier airdrop, jesper figures it's safe for him to show off a little. the waterfall shower head springs to life with a quick yank of the handle, the glassed-off, dark-tiled space more than big enough to fit two people should she actually choose to step in with him. his trousers are the next to go, though his thumb accidentally yanks the last remaining article along with it. swift and efficient, he supposes, not that it bothers him to be fully naked in front of her for the first time — only quite aware of it. just as he opens the shower door, jesper flashes one more look over his shoulder with the most smug expression he can muster. "your move, lastra."

“hm, i still think it would clash with the whole aesthetic you've got going here… but i’m more than happy to take the compliment anyway.” she always is, especially when it comes to him. there are few people she knows who are as willing to speak highly of her as jesper is and that gets sadder when she remembers that she’s only known him for... what? a month at most? maybe that says more about who este is as a person than it does about him. “yeah, that would be great. see, this is where the height difference between us comes in handy.” the shirt will probably resemble more of a dress on someone of her stature, but there’s no complaints here. anything is more comfortable than staying in damp, tight workout clothes. she's already itching to get them off. “ah right, poor old mother nature. bless her heart.” she’d almost forgotten about that part of the conversation, but it doesn’t take long to make a decision on the matter. “no, i don’t need privacy. if you really want to join, that’s fine with me… for her sake, of course. we all have to do our part.” 

[charlie-is-aroace]

Actually getting emotional about Andi winning😅

[egophiliac]

Favorite Disney Princess?

this would be a much easier question if they let Meg into the lineup. dangit. >:(

in terms of, like, favorite movie/adaptation, I have a lot of appreciation for the OG three -- Snow, Cinderella, and Aurora (...okay, yes, I was basically predisposed to being obsessed with Diasomnia). overall it's a toss-up, but Snow has my favorite design! she's so classically '30s but in, like, a technicolor way. it's great! ❄️

in terms of who I spent my entire childhood low-key obsessed with (and isn't Meg)...that would be Jasmine. no question. especially in the purple dress. I love me a snarky princess covered in organza and it's all her fault (and Meg's).

[hanzajesthanza]

should i change my headcanons based upon “i saw it in a dream”

[hearthandhallows]

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎  Felix barely had a second to process everything before they were in Leo’s lap, breath stolen. The weight of Leo’s hands on their body, the way their lips moved together, the hunger in every touch… it sent a shiver through their body. They weren’t sure if it was from the cool night air or the intensity of it all. Maybe both. Probably both.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎  Their mind was reeling, but their body knew exactly what it wanted. They melted into Leo’s touch, gripping his shoulders as if grounding themselves. The hesitancies, unsureness, and shyness they’d felt earlier were gone at this point. Knowing Leo was attracted to them was one thing, but hearing it? Feeling it? That was an entirely new experience, one that had heat pooling low in their stomach.

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎  When they finally parted, all Felix could do was catch their breath, blinking as if they needed a second to reboot. The grin on their companion’s face made their chest tighten in a way they weren’t prepared for. “Oh? Well,” they let out a breathless laugh, fingers absentmindedly tracing his shoulder. When they spoke again, their voice was lower as they glanced down at Leo’s lips before dragging their gaze back to his eyes. “You really think I’m surprising, huh?”

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎  A teasing smirk curled at the corner of their mouth, but there was something in their tone, something unsure. It wasn’t that they didn’t believe Leo, but Felix had never thought of themselves as the kind of person who could make someone lose their composure, and yet, Leo was looking at them like they were something to be devoured. 

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎  Their hand slid up, fingers tangling in Leo’s hair as they leaned in again, just close enough that their noses touched. They could feel Leo’s breath, warm and steady against their lips. “Guess I should be careful with all this power, then.” Then, they kissed him again. Savoring the way Leo responded to him and the way his grip tightened. “I hope you didn’t have any plans to go to bed early.” They laughed through kisses. Earlier that night, Felix had been dreaming of their bed and how they were probably going to have a hard time sleeping. Now, though, Felix figured they’d be tired after all.

Leo felt the way Felix seemed to tense at his words, but he could tell that it wasn't in an unpleasant way, the way someone would if they were uncomfortable. No, Leo thought that Felix seemed to like what he said, the way his hand lingered on his thigh, and he continued to rub it gently as he nodded and replied, "Yeah, I really do. Seriously cute, and seriously hot. It's a dangerous combo, you know that? You might not realize the power you have, but you, my friend, are a genuine threat. People don't know what hit them when you turn on that charm." This was again something Leo suspected Felix wasn't even aware of, and he was more than happy to enlighten them about how truly sexy they were. It felt like something Leo wanted Felix to know. And Felix was funny too, Leo laughed at their comment. Wow, he really is dangerous, Leo thought, looking over at the other and smiling as he laughed some more. Sexy and charming and funny? Yeah, Felix could knock 'em dead, even if they didn't realize it yet. "You caught me," Leo replied. "I'm magic. You're welcome for the boost, though I expect some sort of compensation when we get to my cabin." Leo laughed as he said this (and at the way he had subtly just told Felix he was a witch), but with his hand still on Felix's thigh, the comment felt appropriately loaded. He looked over at Felix and smirked.

As he stepped back into the living room a little later with just the towel low on his hips, Leo felt his face heat up at the way that Felix looked at him, even with the joke they had made cutting the tension a little. "Yes, I must have grown," Leo replied, knowing that might be taken in a dirty direction he hadn't fully intended (but wasn't unhappy about). And he was definitely growing as he watched Felix walk outside completely naked. Oh fuck, Leo thought, not even hiding the way that he was checking the other out. Sexy didn't even do them justice, Leo realized, swallowing hard at the sight of them. "It's cold, so you better get in here," Leo commanded, and he was pleased that Felix scooted close once they had joined him in the hot tub. Even with as sexy as Felix was though, they were also fucking adorable, that nose crinkle nearly doing Leo in . Oh, he was in trouble, Leo was sure of that now. He put his arm around Felix when the other did the same, moving even close, their bare thighs flush against each other. "I might know it," Leo replied with a cheeky grin, "but it's still nice hearing someone as sexy as you say it." Felix was so close, his breath hot against his cheek and neck as he spoke seductively in his ear (and Leo wondered if Felix even knew they were being so seductive, which actually made it even hotter for Leo). Even if Felix hadn't made the first move, Leo was about to kiss them, couldn't not kiss them anymore. It was like a primal need to have his lips pressed against the others. But Leo loved that Felix initiated it, loved that Felix was constantly surprising him.

The kiss was immediately passionate, Leo pulling Felix even closer, using his strength to pull them into his lap. Yeah, Felix was going to be able to tell just how sexy Leo thought he was now. They kissed deeply, Leo's tongue slipping into Felix's mouth, one hand on Felix's side and the other moving down his back to his ass, giving it a little squeeze. Even their ass is cute, Leo thought, and when he finally broke the kiss, he looked in Felix's eyes and grinned, laughing softly. "Yeah, you're full of surprises," he remarked.

[gio-cosmo]

Yk I wasn’t originally planning to talk abt my ao3 account on here but I don’t really gaf anymore. Embarrassment is a concept. Embrace joy and whimsy.

..anyways! If you want to read some of my works my ao3 account is bittersweet_serendipity ^_^ I love to write and am always aiming to improve. I state this a lot in authors notes, but if you ever spot any major weak points or mistakes in my writing, feel free to point them out to me! Constructive criticism helps a ton.

Do be aware that my older works (aka the first 2 I published) are literally filled to the brim w grammar mistakes like it’s actually baffling �� we should all collectively ignore those for the sake of my mental sanity actually! <3 I need to go back and edit them but I keep pushing it off ughh…someday.

[completeoveranalysis]

[5]

The UNEASE when one of the fun Mokona quotes of the series (Mokona is Mokona) is thrown BACK AT MOKONA in the distressing time loop situation (The princess means the princess!)

Kurogane visibly SWEATING (from the heat, as Fai observed last chapter?) as he wonders when in the timeline of Clow this is. ME TOO KUROGANE THANK YOU FOR THIS. 

Lava Lamp does his dialogue duty and asks the npc directly so let’s see let’s see

Do you think I will like this answer. 

I do not. 

SEVEN

BABY SAKURA TIMELINE ACTIVATED

BABY APPLE SAKURA TIMELINE ACCIDENTALLY ACCURATE?

I have deep deep appreciation for the murder dads getting to react in shock at these revelations and then also vocally discuss the implications of everything between them. I’m living for this active investigation. It’s all spiraling further and further into confusion but they’re keeping all the pieces together in a logical form for now. And LOVE that expression on Fai when he says they won’t find any useful answers here.

Meanwhile Mokona asks her own question in the investigation (about seeing Sakura, because Mokona is always a darling) but the answer is that she’s not in the castle. The pause in everyone’s reaction to this makes me think the next line he says is going to be even worse. 

INTERESTING. 

This is new information (to us) but Lava Lamp reflects on this as if he should have been able to figure this out all the way back here. WHEN HE WAS ALSO SEVEN.

WHEN HE WAS SEVEN YEARS OLD (or close enough) AND TRAPPED IN A LAVA LAMP, UNABLE TO DO ANYTHING AT ALL EXCEPT LOOK THROUGH SOMEONE ELSE’S EYE, and he still thinks he should have been able to piece together the mystery from the fact that Sakura did purification rituals at the ruins before her birthday. 

Hindsight can be a bitch to deal with but Lava Lamp is just unerringly hard on himself. 

[skrunksthatwunk]

just finished s2 of kaiji and it was good i really liked it but i hope i never see that fuckass pachinko machine again!!!

[casket-of-imps]

guy who blogs on the autism site: guys this is gonna sound crazy but I think I have autism

[bookshelf-in-progress]

How many times do I have to learn the lesson that I should start the story when the story starts instead of trying to tack on introductory worldbuilding?

Seriously. My instincts about when to start the story are almost never wrong. But I always assume the first scene in my imagination requires set-up that people outside of my imagination don't have. So I tack on an intro to set the mood and to set up the plot and characters and world. And it's boring. When I should have just started where I wanted to start so I could weave explanations into a scene where things are actually happening.

[keeps-ache]

need to be exploding something but i Can't for some reason. just Can Not. my ability to do is just. Nay