#what if sunny and pebbles

[foxett]

Pebble from the hit game omori ?

Me when the pebble do the oyasumi

Me when the the when the something cancer death 👍

[sun-kissy]

crystals | r.b.

regulus black x whimsical!reader

“Baby,” Regulus’ voice comes out two parts affection and one part exasperation as he feels your knees pressing down into the bed on either side of him. You hum distractedly in response, mind wandering to places he knows he can never follow.

He cracks his eyes open, a small smile involuntarily making its way onto his face at the sight of you. You’re as pretty as you always are, so pretty he wonders if you’re actually a dryad of some sort. You certainly look the part, with daisies braided into your hair and miniature toadstool earrings.

He watches as you outstretch your fingers to fiddle with the chain on his neck, your eyebrows bunched in concentration. Your tongue juts out of your lip adorably as you bite down on it, and he resists the urge to kiss you senseless.

The chain Regulus was wearing was nothing more than a thick black string, but it was knotted around various small crystals, courtesy of your hobby of collecting them. When he had first asked you out with a ring, you had shyly given him this string with a single crystal hanging from it – a rose quartz. “For my unconditional love,” you had mumbled, blushing so hard he thought you mirrored a rose. But the pink that coated your cheeks was a lovelier shade than any flower he had laid his eyes on.

From then on, you would knot new crystals onto the string whenever you found them. Regulus was pretty sure some of them had to have been rocks or pebbles, but he loved you too much not to indulge you.

“Mon chéri,” he tries again, amusement seeping into his tone. “It’s 5 in the morning.”

“So?” you ask distractedly, your fingers still tugging and pulling his necklace from side to side. “5AM is when the crystals are most active, you know. This is when they pull the most power from the core of the earth,” you explain matter-of-factly, so dedicated to your task that you don’t notice his smile widening.

You sway forward slightly, unable to balance on the balls of your knees. Regulus silently wraps his palms around your hips, tugging downward until you’re comfortably seated on his stomach.

That was when he noticed you had odd-shaped stones in one of your hands, sunlight reflecting off of them to give a pale blue glow. “What are those?”

You perk up at his question, abandoning your task of trying to tie the stones onto the string. Your head tilts upwards to give him a sunny smile. “They’re aquamarine crystals, obviously.”

“Yeah?” he murmurs, his smile softening. It doesn’t matter how many times you do this, it’s always just as endearing to him. The way you smile fondly at him – like he’s silly for not knowing.

“Yeah,” you beam. “I found these in the stream nearby, the one next to the big daisy field with all the horsies.”

“You walked into the water again, then?”

It’s too laden with fondness to sound accusatory, but you turn slightly sheepish anyway, nodding. Your hands find their way back to his necklace, and this time you manage to loop the string around a crystal successfully. Your face lights up, obviously pleased with your work.

He huffs out a laugh, leaning forward to run his hands down your long skirt. As expected, he finds it damp and sticky. “You’ll have to take a bath, mon amour.”

“In the stream?”

“No,” he mutters, trying but failing to conceal his amused grin. He presses his elbows into the mattress, hoisting himself upwards to press an amorous kiss to your forehead. He can’t help himself, the blush on your cheeks and the shy smile too much for his heart to handle. “In the shower, baby.”

“Oh,” you reply as a way of answer, and Regulus can’t help but chuckle at the slight disappointment in your voice. “Maybe I can shower in the water tomorrow, then? With all the ducks. These ducks are nice; they eat the bread I throw at them. You can come too if you’d like.”

“Maybe,” he replies indulgently, with absolutely no intention of letting you bathe with the ducks instead of with him — but he was never one to deny you anything you asked for.

[consciouscarrot]

day 8 - gifts [ s.reid ]

spencer reid x fem!reader

content warnings; fluff, r sits in spencer’s lap, r is wearing makeup (at least eyeshadow and eyeliner)

notes; bit of an abrupt ending lol

kinktober/flufftober masterlist

—————

spencer was sat at his desk in his apartment, typing up a case report on his laptop after work when you came up to him. you slid your hands over his shoulders, before leaning down and hugging him from behind. he revelled in the weight of your head pressing into his neck, leaning his own into you slightly.

he noted that one of your hands was closed over something, but your fingers were too tightly wrapped around it for him to be able to get a good enough look and figure out what it was.

he tilted his head, kissing along your arm, gently nipping occasionally before muttering into your skin a soft, “hi, angel.”

you hummed, pulling away languidly then turning his wheelie desk chair around so that he was facing you. he reclined back, shifting his hips forward to accommodate for you. his lean arms wrapped around you snugly as you clambered on top of him, curling your legs underneath you and resting your head on his shoulder again.

your sweet apricot perfume wafted over him, he wasn’t usually a fan of fruity perfumes, finding that they tended to be a stronger scent and gave him migraines, but yours was a perfect blend on your skin. he breathed you in, fingertips running up and down your thigh soothingly.

“what you got there?” he queried.

you slowly unclenched your fingers, revealing a couple of pretty stones that sat on your palm. he took them gently, thumbing over the cool objects.

one was marbled with brown, orange and caramel swirling together, creating uneven stripes and loose spirals. it was covered in imperfections- chips and scratches lining it’s surface.

the other was a smokey grey, so shiny it was almost mirrored. it was very smooth, opposite of the first pebble with next to no marks.

they were both very pretty, and he thought that they were sort of like the two of you- one all shiny and polished, perfect- whilst the other was a little roughed up and tarnished. however, he knew you’d get upset if he told you this, always hating that he was so hard on himself.

“they’re for you, i found them when i was out on my walk. i washed them already, don’t worry,”

you fiddled with the end up his shirt, chewing your bottom lip nervously as your gaze flitted over his features, examining his expression.

“i love them, baby. thank you,” he smoothed over your hair, before gently cleaning up the smudged eyeliner that had begun to muddy your pretty pink eyeshadow, “i’ll cherish them forever.”

you hummed, visibly pleased and all sunny smiles as you looked up at him, basking under his loving touches.

“did you know that male penguins gift a pebble to someone they wish to mate?” he returned your gaze, veiny hand still holding your face, “it’s a sort of engagement ring for them.”

“i did not, that’s so cute. do you know why they do it?”

“i do! there’s not much research that’s been done on it, but it’s believed to be to show that the male penguin is capable of looking after the female, and any chicks they may have, as their nests are built from them, to keep them above any melting ice.”

“that can’t be very comfortable,”

he chuckled softly at your frown, adoring that you were fretting so much over penguins contentment. spencer bent his head down to kiss your chewed-up lips, laughing again when you flushed and quickly buried your head in his neck.

[elryuse]

The Story Of, How A Cafe Worker Wins The Heart Of A Superstar

Wonyoung X Male Reader

Tags : Idol Wonyoung, Cafe Worker Male Reader, Fell in love at first sight, Kiss, Strangers to Lover, Fluff, Full of emotion

The cafe bell chimed a familiar melody as the door swung open, announcing the arrival of a new customer. Busy with wiping down a table, I momentarily glanced up, my breath catching in my throat. A girl, shrouded in a white bucket hat and a mask, stood awkwardly by the entrance.

"Hi there! Welcome to Sunray Cafe," I greeted warmly, my usual chipper self shining through. "What can I get you today?"

The girl, her eyes sparkling even beneath the mask, approached the counter. "Can I get a large Americano, please? With no sugar, and maybe less ice?" Her voice was soft, melodic, like a gentle stream tinkling over smooth pebbles.

"Absolutely! Coming right up!" I punched in her order on the register, a thrill shooting through me. Today was definitely turning out interesting. As I busied myself brewing her coffee, I stole another glance at her. There was a certain aura about her, an ethereal quality that made her stand out even amongst the usual cafe crowd.

"Here you go," I announced, placing the steaming cup on the counter. "One large Americano, no sugar, less ice. Just the way you like it, I presume?"

A hint of a smile played on her lips, barely visible beneath the mask. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper.

The silence stretched for a moment, filled with an unspoken awkwardness. I yearned to strike up a conversation, to get to know the girl behind the mask, but something held me back. Perhaps it was the air of mystery surrounding her, or maybe just a touch of shyness on my part.

She settled down at a corner table, the clinking of her spoon against the ceramic mug the only sound for a while. I watched her from afar, mesmerized by the way her gloved fingers cradled the cup, how her eyes sparkled with an unseen emotion as she sipped her coffee.

As the cafe slowly filled with the afternoon crowd, I found myself drawn to her table again and again. Each time, our eyes would meet for a brief moment, a silent exchange that sent a flutter to my heart. Who was this girl? What was her story? I couldn't help but wonder.

Days turned into weeks, and the cafe slowly became synonymous with Wonyoung's presence. Every afternoon, like clockwork, she'd walk in, a vision in white with her signature Americano order. Each time, a wave of exhilaration would wash over me. We'd fallen into a comfortable routine – our exchanges started with greetings, then brief conversations about the weather or the latest K-Pop releases.

One sunny afternoon, as I placed her usual cup on the counter, I mustered up the courage to ask, "The Americano with no sugar, less ice – is that your favorite, or just a habit?"

A soft laugh, like wind chimes on a summer breeze, escaped her lips. "A bit of both, I guess. But honestly, it's more about the company now." Her words sent a jolt of joy through me. Was she implying...?

"Really? You like coming here just for the company?" I couldn't help the hopeful lilt in my voice.

She met my gaze, her eyes sparkling with an emotion I couldn't decipher. "The coffee's not bad either," she admitted with a playful smile. "But yes, the company is definitely a perk."

Emboldened by her words, I took a chance. "Actually, my name is Y/n," I blurted out, feeling a bit flustered. "W-what about you? I keep seeing the name 'Won' written on your cup."

A hint of surprise flickered in her eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a soft smile. "Won is fine," she replied, her voice barely a whisper.

As she turned to leave, I blurted out, "Wait!" She paused, her back to me. "Can I, uh... walk you home?" My cheeks burned with a blush, but I held her gaze.

To my surprise, she didn't refuse. Instead, she turned around, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "Sure," she said simply. "That sounds nice."

As we walked side by side, the setting sun casting an orange glow on our path, I felt a lightness in my step, a joy that resonated deep within me. We talked about everything and nothing – our dreams, our favorite foods, the stray cat that frequented the back alley of the cafe. It felt effortless, comfortable, like we'd known each other for years.

When we reached her doorstep, the air crackled with a nervous energy. "Today was nice, Y/n," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Would you like to do it again sometime?" I asked, hope flickering in my chest.

A genuine smile bloomed on her face, as radiant as the sun that had just dipped below the horizon. "I'd like that," she replied, taking out her phone. "Here, put your number in."

As I entered my contact information, her phone vibrated. Glancing at the screen, I noticed she saved my number under the name "Sunray Cafe." A pang of disappointment shot through me, a silent acknowledgement of the distance between our worlds.

But then, she added a single emoji – a bright yellow sun – beside my name. The small gesture sent a warmth blooming in my chest, a promise of sunshine and happiness to come. "I'll call you, Won," I said, my voice filled with newfound determination. "And I'll make you happy, I promise."

She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "We'll see about that, Sunray Cafe." With a final wave, she disappeared into her apartment building, leaving me with a heart full of hope and the promise of a future filled with sunshine, coffee, and maybe, just maybe, a love story blooming amidst the aromatic warmth of the cafe.

The following afternoon, butterflies danced a frenetic jig in my stomach as Won walked into the cafe. Today, I had a surprise planned. Mustering up all my courage, I approached her as she placed her usual order.

"Hey, Won," I greeted, my voice a touch shaky. "So, I was wondering..." I hesitated, searching for the right words. "Would you like to go out on a date with me sometime?"

Her eyes widened beneath the mask, a flicker of surprise giving way to a hesitant smile. "A date?" she echoed, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah," I blurted out, my cheeks burning. "Just to, you know, hang out outside of the cafe."

To my utter delight, she didn't say no. In fact, a hint of a blush seemed to color her cheeks, hidden beneath the white mask. "I'd... I'd like that," she replied softly.

We set a date for the weekend, and the anticipation gnawed at me for days. Finally, the day arrived, and I found myself waiting for her at a park, a bouquet of sunflowers – her favorite – clutched nervously in my hand.

When she arrived, my breath hitched. Even in casual clothes and the ever-present mask, she looked radiant. Today, however, there was a certain spring in her step, a shy smile playing on her lips.

"Hey," I said, extending the flowers towards her.

Her smile widened as she accepted the bouquet. "Thank you, Y/n. These are beautiful."

The afternoon unfolded like a dream. We strolled through the park, the scent of summer flowers filling the air. We talked about everything and nothing – our dreams, our favorite movies, the stray cat that frequented the back alley of the cafe. Her laughter, a melody tinkling in the summer breeze, sent shivers down my spine. There was a comfortable ease about our conversation, a sense of connection that transcended the barrier of the mask.

Later, we decided to catch a movie. As we sat shoulder-to-shoulder in the dimly lit cinema, a thrill coursed through me. Stealing a glance at her, I noticed her eyes glued to the screen, tears glistening in them during a particularly emotional scene. In that moment, I felt a surge of protectiveness towards her, a desire to shield her from any harm.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the city, I suggested a final stop – Sunray Cafe. The familiarity of the place brought a smile to both our faces.

"Welcome back," I said, ushering her in.

The cafe was bustling with customers, but a corner table by the window was miraculously free. I settled Won into the seat, her eyes sparkling as she took in the familiar surroundings.

"This place feels different somehow," she remarked, tilting her head.

"Because you're here with me," I replied impulsively, my cheeks burning with a blush.

She met my gaze for a long moment, a blush creeping up her neck despite the mask. Then, she smiled, a shy, sweet smile that sent my heart into overdrive.

"I'm glad I am," she whispered.

I ordered her usual Americano, this time with a hint of caramel syrup, hoping to surprise her. As I placed the cup on the table, I blurted out, "There's something I've been wanting to ask you."

She looked up, her eyes curious. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, I said, "Won, would you ever consider taking off your mask?"

A flicker of vulnerability crossed her features, a silent plea in her eyes. Then, she shook her head gently. "Not yet, Y/n. Maybe someday."

Disappointment tugged at my heart, but seeing the unspoken emotions in her eyes, I understood. This wasn't the right time to push her.

Taking her hand in mine, I squeezed it gently. "Okay," I said softly. "Whenever you're ready."

A warm smile bloomed on her face, chasing away the shadows in her eyes. "Thank you, Y/n. For understanding."

We spent the rest of the evening talking, sipping our coffee, and simply enjoying each other's company. As we walked out of the cafe hand-in-hand, the night sky ablaze with stars, I knew this was just the beginning of something special. The mask might have hidden her face, but it couldn't hide the connection we shared, a connection forged over cups of coffee, shared dreams, and stolen glances under the summer sun.

The next day, A sudden jolt of electricity shot through me as the cafe door chimed, announcing a new arrival. But it wasn't just any customer. It was Won, but this time, there was another man by her side.

He was tall and impeccably dressed, but his aura was cold, his expression unreadable. He held himself stiffly, a stark contrast to Won's usual radiant presence. Even with the mask on, I could sense the tension radiating from her, a silent plea for help I couldn't quite understand.

The man approached the counter, his voice devoid of warmth. "Black coffee, hot. No sugar, and a side of rock sugar."

The odd combination sent a shiver down my spine, but I nodded curtly, professionalism overriding my growing unease. As I brewed the coffee, I stole a glance at Won. Her eyes darted around the cafe nervously, avoiding mine altogether.

When I placed the order on the counter, the man picked up the cup and took a long sip. His face contorted in disgust. He then reached for the rock sugar, a single, unrefined cube, and popped it into his mouth before taking another sip of the coffee. He grimaced again, then let out a heavy sigh.

"Looks like the merger will have to be expedited," he said to Won, his voice laced with a coldness that sent chills down my spine. "Your father called. He needs a faster turnaround on the debt settlement."

Won's mask seemed to shrink around her face, her shoulders slumping in defeat. But amidst the fear in her eyes, there was a flicker of defiance. "Marriage?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The man nodded curtly. "That's what your father wants. Apparently, a public display of unity will appease the investors."

A suffocating silence descended upon us. The man seemed oblivious to the turmoil brewing within Won, his gaze fixed on his now lukewarm coffee. But I knew something was terribly wrong. This marriage, this entire situation, felt forced, a business deal masquerading as love.

The man finally set down his cup, his gaze snapping towards Won. "Who is he?" he demanded, his voice laced with a dangerous edge. "The one you truly care about."

The air crackled with tension, the question hanging heavy in the air. My heart pounded in my chest, a drumbeat against my ribs. Won's eyes met mine for a fleeting moment, a silent plea for understanding, for help. And in that shared look, everything hung in the balance.

Unable to bear the suffocating tension any longer, I took a deep breath and approached their table, my voice firm but calm. "Excuse me," I said, forcing a smile, "but could you please keep it down? There are other customers here trying to enjoy their coffee."

The cold man's icy gaze snapped towards me, his expression hardening further. He took a slow, deliberate sip of his coffee, the clink of the cup against the saucer the only sound for a moment.

"A lowlife like you wouldn't understand professionalism," he sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "Perhaps you haven't noticed, but I could easily buy this entire cafe and kick you out on the street."

A surge of anger flared within me, but I fought it down. This wasn't about me. It was about Won, about the fear and helplessness etched on her face.

"Professionalism isn't about money," I countered, my voice steady despite the tremor in my heart. "It's about respect. Respect for your partner, respect for others around you."

The man scoffed, a humorless sound. "Partners? Don't make me laugh. This is a business arrangement, nothing more." His gaze flickered to Won, his voice softening a touch. "Isn't that right, darling?"

Won remained silent, her eyes downcast. My heart ached for her, for the unspoken words trapped behind the mask.

The man seemed to take her silence as agreement. He flashed a cold smile in my direction, his parting words laced with a veiled threat. "Consider yourself warned, kid. Don't get in the way of things you don't understand. I won't let her be taken that easily." With that, he rose from his seat, leaving Won and me alone in a tense silence.

As the cafe door chimed shut behind him, the weight of his words settled heavily upon us. Won's shoulders slumped further, and for a moment, I thought she might crumble. But then, she lifted her head, a flicker of determination replacing the fear in her eyes.

"Y/n," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "We need to talk."

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the sudden surge of hope that bloomed in my chest. This wasn't just fear in her eyes anymore – it was a spark, a defiance against the future that had been thrust upon her.

Before I could respond, she surprised me by reaching out. Her gloved hand cupped my cheek, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through me. My breath hitched as she leaned in closer, the mask a barrier between us yet somehow insignificant in the face of the raw emotion in her eyes.

"Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper against my lips. "For everything."

Then, in a move that stole my breath away, she leaned forward and kissed me. It wasn't the soft, sweet kiss I'd dreamt of. It was a fleeting touch, a soft brush of cotton from her white mask against mine, yet it held a universe of unspoken emotions. The taste of coffee and something uniquely hers lingered on the fabric as she pulled away, a blush creeping up her cheeks despite the mask.

"I... I need to go," she stammered, her voice flustered. "But this isn't over. Not by a long shot."

With that, she turned and hurried out of the cafe, leaving me standing there in a daze. My hand flew to my lips, the warmth of her touch still tingling on my skin. The kiss was a promise, a declaration whispered against the storm brewing in her life.

Hope, a fragile thing, blossomed in my chest. Won might be trapped, but she wasn't defeated. And neither was I. We had each other, a connection forged over stolen glances and shared dreams. Together, we would find a way. The road ahead might be difficult, but with the faint memory of her touch and the soft brush of cotton from her mask against my lips, I knew I wouldn't face it alone.

A year had crawled by, each day a monotonous echo of the last. The cafe, once a haven for stolen glances and whispered dreams, now felt hollow without Won's presence. I wiped down the counter with a practiced efficiency, a ghost of a smile clinging to my lips. The memory of our date – the sunflowers, the movie, the shared coffee – played on repeat in my mind, a bittersweet reminder of a happiness that felt like a lifetime ago.

Just as I was about to flick off the neon "Open" sign, a soft rapping sound startled me. A figure stood hesitantly on the other side of the glass door, the setting sun casting a golden glow around them. My heart lurched in my chest – could it be…?

With trembling hands, I unlocked the door. A wave of relief washed over me as I saw Won, her ever-present white mask the only thing obscuring her face. But this time, there was a different glint in her eyes, a mix of determination and something else – nervousness?

Before I could even formulate a greeting, she was in my arms, clinging to me like a lifeline. "Y/n," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry."

Tears welled up in my eyes, spilling over as I held her close. "Won," I croaked, my voice hoarse. "I thought… I thought I lost you."

She pulled back slightly, cupping my face in her gloved hands. Her eyes, filled with a newfound fire, held my gaze. "Never," she whispered fiercely. "That awful man… It turned out he was a corrupt business owner. My dad cut ties with him, but it caused a huge fight with my parents. In the end, I couldn't take it anymore. I had to choose my own path."

A smile, hesitant but genuine, bloomed on her face as she slowly began to untie the straps of her mask. My breath hitched in my throat. For all this time, the girl who filled my days with sunshine had been Jang Wonyoung, the K-Pop idol I adored.

As the mask fell away, revealing the breathtaking beauty I'd only glimpsed in dreams, a blush flooded my cheeks. Her eyes, sparkling with mischief, met mine. "Now you know why I always hid behind the mask, huh?"

A nervous laugh escaped my lips. "If anyone saw you in this cafe, the whole place would explode!"

We both burst into laughter, the tension dissolving into a comfortable warmth that felt like coming home. Wonyoung cupped my cheeks once again, her touch sending shivers down my spine. "It took me a whole year, Sunray Cafe," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. "But I'm here now. And I'm not going anywhere."

A surge of joy filled me as I leaned in, closing the distance between us. Our kiss was tender, a promise whispered on the wind. "I'm all yours, Wonyoung," I murmured against her lips.

The future stretched before us, uncertain yet filled with possibilities. We had a fight on our hands, the challenge of keeping our love a secret amidst the glare of the spotlight. But together, with the shared warmth of a stolen kiss and a year of yearning, we were ready to face anything. The cafe, once a symbol of lonely longing, was now bathed in the golden glow of a new dawn, the start of a beautiful love story between a barista and his superstar.

The End

[yetanotherexhaustedalchemist]

Yet more TWST HCs

Cater likes gossiping with the living paintings around campus. He tells them all the modern-day student tea and they tell him about the drama that went down two centuries ago in return. (He has acquired a surprising amount of blackmail material on the staff through this.)

If Lilia can't find Silver anywhere, the first place he checks is Scarabia. That's because whenever Kalim finds Silver asleep in a weird place, he gets Carpet to scoop Silver up and take him back for a nice place to nap.

Fellow/Ernesto is LUCKY that the event ended the way it did. If he actually succeeded in capturing everyone (and not imminently letting them go), he would have had some of the most powerful people and organizations in the world after him. (Is this even a headcanon? Idk)

Ace can do the splits. Idk why this makes sense to me. He's not very flexible besides that though, somehow

When he's particularly annoyed at Azul and Floyd, Jade leaves pebbles and gravel in hidden places that they'll only notice when they're going to use it (like in Floyd's shoes or in the jar for Azul's quill ink).

Yuu and Ruggie form a pact after Chapter 2 where they exchange chores and errands sometimes. Like if Yuu takes care of the laundry, Ruggie will do the shopping and drop Yuu's groceries off at Ramshackle. Later, Jamil joins the pact as well. (In return for a good dinner, they'll take care of Kalim for however long he needs for a break.)

Vil does a great job of making any trans/nonbinary students in Pomefiore feel welcome and at home. He offers haircuts, make up and fashion advice, voice training and more to anyone who asks.

Riddle is very sheltered when it comes to romance, even when it doesn't regard himself. Because of this, he has a tendency to assume a couple are just friends despite how close they are (like Vil and Rook) or think a duo is already a couple (Adeuce). This has led to many miscommunications and unintentionally funny situations.

Kalim actually does invite Malleus to a lot more events than he thinks, but the invitation always ends up getting lost due to improbable chains of errors.

Rook's family is from the Shaftlands nearby Fleur City, but they've lived in the Sunset Savannah for several generations.

Yuu's come up with a Fun Little Game for Friday game nights (usually with the first years but anyone who's interested is welcome) where Yuu tells them about a historical event from their world and everyone has to guess if it actually happened, or if Yuu's just making things up. Every time they think they've figured things out, Yuu hits them with a "the country that declared war on birds and lost is an actual thing that happened".

I don't think literally anything in-game suggests this, but. Hey. Memories from the 'lost in a book' events, while they vanish out of the books, carry over to other books. So when appearing in The Nightmare Before Christmas, Yuu, Riddle and Azul get all their memories from Stitch's Tropical Turbulence flooding back.

When Silver was young, there were a few occasions where he wanted to do something that was exclusive to rainy days (jumping in puddles, looking for frogs/worms or just listening to the rain, ect) but it was sunny with no chance of it raining. If he was ever particularly disappointed, Lilia would just so happen to mention the problem to Malleus. It could start raining minutes later. (Did he do it? Of course not, what a silly question.)

Ruggie usually avoids Jade (fair, he's terrifying), but they've had a few good conversations about common edible plants. It was surprisingly informative for them both. Jade now sometimes 'just so happens' to bump into Ruggie and continues the discussion, and Ruggie is smart enough to not bring up how convenient it all is.

Silver often helps pigeons build their nests. He's also unexpectedly passionate about messenger pigeons, and how messed up it is that they were bred to be messengers and then called dirty when they weren't useful anymore.

Yuu does this thing where they say the most insane, out-of-left-field things which baffle their friends, then when they're asked about it later, they swear they don't remember saying that. (It's usually something vaguely prophetic, exhausted and annoyed, or about The Mouse.)

[bitchface24-7]

MY HEROS - JAYVIK X READER

submission for @pebble-bb

synopsis: You and your two partners finally scheduled a day off to just relax. Work in the lab hasn't gone anywhere due to stress and frustration. You're excited to have a full day to just rewind and be with the two men you love. Until a spider ruins your day.

warnings: reader has arachnophobia (specifically requested), Viktor and Jayce comfort the reader, Viktor deals with the spider, and honestly fluff all around, Grammarly is my beta

genre: m/m/f or m/m/m

p.s. I understand your frustration at portrayals of bug phobias Pebble. I too have arachnophobia and my mum teases me about it. I'm going to use my story from my childhood on how I became scared of spiders in this story. Don't worry, no brushing off or teasing here! Pure self-indulgent comfort!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It’s been so long since you three have had a proper day off. Honestly being able to sleep in and have the warmth of the sun wake you up rather than an annoying alarm has already put you in a much better mood. Jayce making breakfast as you and Viktor enjoy sweet milk at the kitchen nook is even better.

You get to watch Jayce dance around the kitchen in nothing but pyjama pants and a frilly pink heart-adorned apron. Viktor got it as a gag gift for Jayce a few years ago now, but Jayce unironically loved it, purely because Viktor gave it to him. Now, whenever Jayce cooks, that apron is on.

Viktor and Jayce are in a heated debate regarding which egg type is best. You just smile at them and finish your sweet milk, going to the reading nook you three set up. It’s cozy. Dark wood, little lamps on the wall, a wall of windows, and deep purple bedding that's soft to the touch. You can't recall how many times a pair of you or all three of you squished into this nook to just read in each other's presence.

You pick up the book you've been dying to read, now finally having a full day off to enjoy it, when something catches your attention in the corner of your eye.

It’s a spider.

It’s about the size of a hexgem, fluffy, and black. You think it is a tarantula; they're harmless, honestly good for catching houseflies and mosquitoes. But its a spider none the less, and you're anxiety has spiked ten fold. You just stare at the spider as you slowly lower your book and make your way back to the kitchen, not taking your eyes off of it.

Eventually, you make it back to the kitchen to spot your two partners, still arguing about eggs.

“Scrambled is the best!”

“If you like your eggs to feel like rubber! Sunny side up is the best!”

“If you like to make a mess like a child, you— Darling. What's wrong?”

Their argument ceases at the sight of you. You look like a child in all honesty. The way you're wringing your hands and shuffling on your feet.

“Sorry, I— I didn't mean to bother you guys on our day off but there's a spider in the reading nook and—”

Viktor casually stands up, grabbing his cane to walk with you, “and you want one of us to deal with it.”

“Yes please.” you lightly nod.

You and Viktor walk to the nook as Jayce continues to make breakfast. The walk is short but to you a pit of doom encapsulates your stomach. What if the spider moved? What if its closer than before? What if—

Your panicking thoughts are stopped once you see the spider hasn't moved, and Viktor reaches up and puts it in his hand, cupping the spider with his other hand.

“Darling, could you be a dear and open one of those windows for me? So I can put the spider outside?”

Without question, you rush to the window and open it. It’s lightly raining but you'd rather deal with a lightly damp windowsill than that fuzzy beast.

Viktor ambles over and puts his hands outside the window, allowing the spider to leave his palm. It walks out calmly, over the windowsill and up the apartment building. Viktor casually puts his hands back into the apartment and closes the window.

And with that, your anxiety is gone.

“Sounds like Jayce is done with breakfast, why don't we clean up a bit and join him at the table, hmm?”

All you can do is gratefully nod.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

As you and Viktor come back to the main part of the apartment, you see your seats are already set up. Your eggs are done to perfection. In the center of the table is a bowl of berries, a plate of buttered toast, and a plate of bacon.

“Is everything okay?” Jayce asks, a concerned tone evident in every syllable.

The two of you just nod and take your seats, “It was a spider.”

Jayce hums at Viktor's response, “Gotcha. You doing good babe?”

“I’m good. Thanks for not teasing me.”

Viktor and Jayce look at each other in confusion, “Why would we tease you?”

You sigh heavily as you go to drink another glass of sweet milk, “When I was little, about four years old, I was in the apartment alone. My parents were outside on the balcony, and a massive tarantula was crawling towards me. I mean like— the size of my fist big. That's pretty fucking big for a four-year-old. I was screaming and crying because I had never seen a spider that big before, my mum heard me panicking and killed the spider with a can of air freshener. Ever since then, I've been afraid of spiders. Other bugs get to me too like wasps, and centipedes. But spiders take the cake. My mum teases me every time I squick out over a spider, or bug in general.”

Viktor and Jayce hum in understanding, “That is quite scary, especially as a four-year-old. That type of fear is completely understandable.”

“Yeah!” Jayce adds as he puts a hand over yours, “We’d never make fun of you for something like that. Would you make fun of us? Would you make fun of my fear of the cold and snow storms?”

“What?!” you gasp appalled, “Absolutely not!”

Viktor chims in, “Would you make fun of my fear of being forgotten?”

“No!”

The two men smile sweetly at you, “Then we're not going to make fun of your fear of spiders. We all have fears, they're a natural part of life.”

And with that, the three of you eat breakfast in peace. Well relative peace. Jayce and Viktor are now arguing about which type of chocolate is better.

You wouldn't change this for the world, you sigh contently as you sip your sweet milk, looking lovingly at the two men in your life.

You wouldn't change a goddamn thing.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

I hope y'all enjoyed this little fluffy ball of goodness! Especially you @pebble-bb!! This is the first submission I've ever gotten and I hope I did this right. It didn't come to my inbox like an ask so I just made a new file and ensured Pebble was @’d LOL.

Anyways, continue with the asks/submissions! I currently have four drafts waiting to be worked on LMAO, should I make a greeting post and pin it with rules and all that stuff? I'm honestly down to write whatever, but if something does squick me out I'll deny it.

[whyareyoulookingatmelikethat]

twisted sprout x distractor reader x twisted cosmo?

bonus points if reader's a little overly cocky and gets Got (maybe we get like. kidnapped or something. whatever you think would fit best in the getting got category [: )

...no this isn't inspired by me doing stupid stuff while distracting and getting punished for it. why would you think that noo /j

[20]: In The End

Not much to say right now. Not in the best mood after something happened, but I still hope you enjoy.

You were known as the chaotic one of the group.

Reckless, mischievous, you name it.

Honestly, no one really knew why you were the distractor, but they just went along with it because who else did they have to distract?

So here you were, skipping your way along the dark halls, your mood completely cheerful despite the disturbing sounds of the monsters chasing you.

The smile on your face was as bright as it would be on a sunny day, strangely enough.

You weren't one to strategize either. The instant you found a speed candy on the floor? Eat it in an instant.

Chocolate bars? Sounds good! Bottles of pop? Sure thing! No saving whatsoever.

You were literally the embodiment of idiotic.

And you liked it.

What was wrong about being stupid? Everyone is, so might as well come to terms with it.

You giggled, rounding the corner and making a U-turn around the twisteds.

Some say you’re confusing. Some say you’re drunk. Some say you’re crazy. (Which you are, but focus!)

You had the most positive,(Yes, even more positive than Poppy) yet deranged look on your situation, is what people said.

You didn’t care if there were monsters chasing you. You didn’t care if you were possibly going to die soon. After all, if you're going to go out, might as well have a little fun while doing so!

No you weren’t suicidal, just…you tried to make the best of your situation.

Was this place causing you to go insane? Probably. Who wouldn’t, after seeing their friends die in front of them one by one?

Ah, you remember now. Vee being mauled by Twisted Pebble, Boxten’s bones being crushed by Twisted Goob’s grip, Astro being killed by…well, Twisted Astro. Or who you like to call, the leech.

Their deaths were so traumatizing, you say with absolutely no emotion whatsoever, like you’re being sarcastic, but you’re not.

What reason would you have to be?

You didn’t really hate anyone here, not Vee or Glisten with their pride, Rodger with his nosiness, or even Shrimpo with his yelling. He had good reason to be bitter.

You heard a screech behind you, a warning. With practiced grace, you twirled around the easily avoidable tendril sprouting up from the floor, not even staining your shoes with the black ichor.

As you skipped on, avoiding a swipe of a smaller black claw, you wondered how the twisteds were even dumber than you, to the point they would just run around in circles after you and not even cut through the middle. They also wouldn’t jump or step over obstacles, nor knock them aside. They reminded you of homing missiles, but worse.

They acted as if a bean bag was a brick wall, and it was funny, yet extremely confusing. It bugged you to the point of insanity.(Not really, you're still sane but you know)

So you entertained the thought that maybe they were all blind. Their eyes were blood-red, so it would make sense that their vision is messed up, but that doesn’t explain how the amalgamation that was once a sweet and loving dog could now see you across half the entire floor, but couldn’t see you over a colorful kids table, despite towering over you.

It didn’t make any sense. It was like every single obstacle ever was an invisible wall for them. And you thought you were dumb…

You hummed, breaking out of your train of thought. Your eyes widened as you came face to face with a wall, smacking straight into it.

You could feel a headache beginning to form as you fell backwards towards the ground, hitting your head on the painfully hard concrete. You could hear the slightest crack and you cried out, immediately curling yourself up and hands shooting up to your head.

It…felt warm. Weirdly warm, and sticky.

Oh.

You already knew what it was.

You pressed down hard on your scalp as the twisteds closed in on you. You’d go out quick, at least.

The only thing you saw before it was all gone was two blurry faces staring down at you, hissing and groaning filling the air.

[megu-meow]

family ties - gojo satoru

gojo x fem. reader

Summary: Satoru takes you to meet the in-laws.

The Gojo family members mentioned are named after the Zoldyk family, cuz Satoru is the grown-up version Killua. Argue with a wall on that one. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this one!

"Please, sweetheart! I've been begging you for four years, it's time..." Gojo implores, running after you in the hallways of Jujutsu Tech like a lost puppy.

"I told you already, Satoru, I don't want to do it. You said it was ok if I didn't because you don't care what they think anyway."

"I know, but now that I proposed to you, my family wants to see you. Especially Ojiisan, he wants to meet the woman who charmed his favorite grandson." he whines as the two of you stop in front of your classroom.

"Toru, you said it yourself, all of your clan members are obsessed with you marrying someone from the big clans. We both know they will not accept a nobody like me." you explain as you rub your forehead. It wasn't that you didn't want to meet Satoru's family, but he was the one to refuse to introduce you to them in the first place. He didn't like the way they treated outsiders and he didn't want you to experience how old-fashioned and downright disgusting their beliefs and traditions were. You were better off without ever crossing paths with them, you were sure of that. However, as soon as he proposed to you, his clan members started pushing the matter, because being Satoru's wife would mean that you would get your own responsibilities in the clan, like attending meetings representing Satoru, when he was away, you would get your own vote in different matters, and lastly, the one you refused to take into consideration, you would become clan head if Satoru would ever be unable to fulfill his duties as such. It was normal for them to wish to meet you, but that didn't make it any easier.

"You will only have to meet my mom, my dad, and my grandparents. They don't care about how you are or what powers you hold as long as you love me. They will not make you feel miserable, I promise." he looks at you with those cerulean orbs that shine like rhinestones, ones you cannot say no to.

"You pinky-promise?"

"Of course, sweetheart." he says and he shows you his pinky, waiting for you to link it with yours. And you do.

The day finally arrives, a sunny Friday in April, as the Sakura blossoms. Ijichi picked up the two of you from your shared apartment early in the morning to begin your hour-long drive to the Gojo estate in suburban Tokyo.

"So your father's name is Silva?" you ask your fiance as you observe the landscape around you.

"Yes. He's kinda scary at first glance, but he would do anything to make me happy."

"Your mom's name is Kykio, right?"

"Yes, good job sweetheart! She's a kind-hearted woman, she's gonna love you for sure."

"Okay, I think I know enough about your family tree." you sigh, you really want these people to like you. You don't exactly know why, Satoru said he doesn't care what they say, he's gonna marry you anyway, but you know he loves his parents and his grandparents. Contrary to popular belief, he grew up in a loving family, he was spoiled rotten by everyone, hence his insufferable personality. However, despite how Satoru claims his family not liking you wouldn't affect him, you know it would. These people are important to him, whether he admits it or not. So you're not going to screw this up by not knowing their given names. Or by anything else.

You get dropped off in front of a massive gate that Satoru opens with ease and you're met with a pebbled road lined with Sakura trees. They are in perfect blossom, there is a sea of pink in front of you. Satoru grabs your hand in his and starts walking down the road, leading you toward where you assume the Minka is.

"Three, two, ..." you hear Satoru count back under his nose and you look at him with confusion, but as you look back to the road ahead of you a person appears, bowing in front of your fiance.

"Gojo-san, welcome back!"

"Amane, long time no see! How are you holding up?" he asks joyfully and you remember him mentioning his name before. Amane was Satoru's best friend at the estate, his cousin on his mother's side of the family.

"I'm doing good. You didn't announce your arrival, the clan is in a meeting right now."

"I know." he smirks. He timed this perfectly and you take a note to yourself to scold him for slacking off. "By the way, this is my fiance, y/n."

"Hajimemashite, y/n-san! Welcome to the Gojo Estate."

"Nice to meet you too, Amane. Please leave the honorifics, makes me feel old."

"As you wish. Please do not hesitate to call for me if you need anything. I will make sure to prepare Gojo-san's bedroom for the two of you." Amane disappears right after finishing his sentence, you couldn't even thank him for his help.

"GOJO SATORU!" you hear a deep voice shouting from afar and you feel goosebumps covering your entire body. Whoever that voice belongs to is frightening as hell. "Not only do you not show your face to a clan meeting, but you have the audacity to not announce me about my daughter-in-law coming to meet me?" you observe the tall, muscular man in front of you as he approaches with inhumane speed. He has long, wavy hair with bangs, the color identical to Satoru's, and icy blue eyes. It is Gojo Silva, Satoru's father. The cursed energy around him has a crazy strong presence, similar to Satoru's when he lets his unleash, but this one feels rougher, slightly colder.

First, he steps to his son, yanking his left ear, which results in Satoru whining like a little kid. The whole ordeal is comical, you know that his father is just messing around. After that, he looks at his son with disapproving eyes, calls him a menace and turns towards you.

"Y/n, yoroshiku! I am Gojo Silva, Satoru's father. You can call me otousan." he bows and you return the gesture with a blush on your cheeks. Satoru giggles, enjoying his father's antics. Despite being a seemingly intimidating person, Silva seems to be just as much of a goofball as Satoru. He asks you silly questions like what is your favorite dessert, how much you can eat and whether you discipline his son when he acts like an idiot. The last one causes Satoru to chirp back at his father, claiming that he called him the other night to 'change the Google logo back to the original'. As you observe the dynamic between the two you have to remind yourself that you're in the presence of the heads of the Strongest Clan in Jujutsu history.

You finally arrive in front of the house and you are greeted by a beautiful woman with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. She looks welcoming in her flowery dress and with her wide smile. Her smile resembles Satoru's, it reaches her ears and it's vibrant, like there is nothing wrong in this world. Her cursed energy is low, even lower than yours, and you're not sure if it's because she is limiting it or if she simply doesn't have much to begin with. Her aura is stronger, it is familiar and welcoming.

"Kaachan!" Satoru exclaims as he walks up to her, embracing the petite woman in a warm hug. She pats her son on the back, her eyes sparkling with the motherly love she reserves for him.

"I'm glad you're finally home, sunshine! Please don't give your father any more headaches while you're here."

"I will not, mother!" he says curtly and he suddenly snakes his arms around your hips, bringing you close to his side "By the way, this is my fiance, y/n!" he introduces you and you bow in front of his mother politely.

"I am glad to finally meet you, Kykio-san!"

"Oh, please, sweetheart, leave the honorifics. You are family, you can call me Okaasan or whatever you prefer." she says with her warm smile.

They all walk you to the family dining room, claiming that you arrived in time for supper. You're being presented with a variety of traditional Japanese dishes and you're more than excited to try everything that you like. Satoru's parents are extremely nice and calm. They ask you questions about your family, your upbringing, about Jujutsu and your time in high school. They claim they already know about every single detail of your relationship with Satoru, apparently, you're one of his favorite topics to mention when he is back home. They tell you stories about their son, how he was while growing up, what he liked and disliked, and how much of a troublemaker he was. You listen carefully to these stories, you want to remember them, to cherish them for a long time. After you finish the dishes, they are serving desserts, a whole lot of them in different assortments.

"Satoru has got a sweet tooth his whole life. His grandmother likes to prepare all kinds of deserts, even western ones so he grew up eating a copious amount of sugar." Kykio explains.

"Y/n bakes too! She makes cookies for me all the time!"

"That's not true, Toru! I've been trying to reduce his sugar intake, so now I only bake once a week." you explain and his parents look at each other knowingly, as they start laughing. You look at Satoru in confusion, but he just shakes his head, signaling that he doesn't get it either.

"Sweetheart, Satoru has been teleporting back home every week to eat desserts from his Sobo." his mother explains and you look at your fiance in disbelief. He acts like he's innocent, smiling at you widely, mouthing 'i love you'. You roll your eyes, but mouth the words back, because otherwise he would throw a fit in front of everyone.

"Where is that grandson on mine? Always causing trouble." you hear a male voice from the hallway and a pair of footsteps. The cursed energy coming from their direction is unpaired, it exceeds Silva's, maybe not Satoru's, but it still makes you uncomfortable.

"Have some decorum, Zeno. That boy has done nothing wrong in his life." a woman's voice is heard and the male grunts in disbelief.

"Typical Sobo Gojo, she always thinks Satoru is perfect." Silva explains and he lets out an obnoxious laugh, very similar to Satoru's. Now you understand where he got it from.

The doors open and you observe the cute elderly woman and the man with hair pointing toward the ceiling on her side. What is it with Gojo men and their gravity-resistant hair?!

"Satoru, do you have any idea how long it took me to convince the clan geezers to let your lady off the hook this time?" Zeno questions and looks at his grandson with an authoritative gaze.

"I'm sorry you had to do that, Ojiisan. I promise that next time, y/n will meet them as well."

"Good! Now come here, my child. I wanna see if my grandson was telling the truth about you being the most gorgeous woman to walk on this earth." he says as he gestures for you to walk up to him. You oblige as he takes your hands into his, analyzing them carefully. "Huh, truly beautiful. Your cursed energy flows nicely and you have a lot of it. You are strong, I like that." he says, drops your hands, and walks towards the table. After that, you are greeted by his grandmother, who scolds you for trying to limit her beloved grandson's insane sugar intake. However, she compliments you on your looks and politeness.

You sit back down at the table afterward, enjoying the moment of being surrounded by the Gojo family. Despite their reputation, they are all nice people. The three generations of men keep teasing each other, grandpa Zeno is a savage, making fun of both his son and grandson, he has absolutely no mercy. They keep telling you stories about Satoru like the time his grandfather shot him in the eye with a Nerf gun despite aiming at his butt. Or the time he was playing hockey inside while his parents were out and he broke the glass on his mother's favorite painting. Luckily for him, Sobo was home and she had the glass fixed before his parents even got home.

You tell them about the time he encountered a cleaning curse and how he smelled like detergent for two weeks. Or the time he wanted to pick you flowers from the forest near Jujutsu Tech, but fell into poison ivy.

The night goes by like that, filled with laughter and family stories. Despite having your doubts about meeting Satoru's family, he observes how you fit right in. How everyone loves you and they accept you for who you are because the love you have for him is evident. As it should be. And he swears that his love for you skyrockets even more that night, despite him knowing that it's nearly impossible.

[naomeii]

A dragon's guide to courting.

—Pairings: Zhongli x F!Reader

Content : fluff, crack, cue confused zhongli, slight jealousy, drabble.

Synopsis : Zhongli is an intelligent man, no doubt, but he's dumb in understanding the ways mortals court.

It was another bustling day at Y/n's flower shop in Liyue. The fragrant scent of blossoms filled the air as customers browsed through the colorful arrangements. Little did Y/n know, Zhongli, the seemingly stoic consultant, had developed an interest in her that went beyond the usual scholarly pursuits.

One sunny afternoon, as Y/n struggled to shift some heavy pots, Zhongli appeared out of nowhere, effortlessly assisting her. With a polite nod and a grateful smile, Y/n noticed a glint of amusement in Zhongli's eyes. As she unearthed a particularly pretty pebble from the soil, Zhongli's eyes followed her every move.

"Look at this, Zhongli! Isn't it charming?" Y/n exclaimed, giving him the pebble.

Zhongli, never one to express emotions overtly, cracked a small smile and accepted the gift. Little did Y/n know, this innocent exchange set off a chain of events that would leave her utterly bewildered.

The next day, Zhongli returned the favor. He handed Y/n a similar pebble, and she couldn't help but raise an eyebrow in confusion. "Uh, thanks?" she said, unsure of the significance behind the gesture.

Zhongli, however, believed this was the mortal way of expressing interest. Determined to court Y/n in the way of the dragons, he began showering her with gifts – expensive trinkets, handfuls of Mora that seemed to multiply like rabbits, and lavish presents that left Y/n gaping.

"Zhongli, seriously, are you a secret Fatui agent? Is this much Mora even legal?" Y/n exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock.

"I assure you, my wealth is legitimate," Zhongli replied with a goofy smile, completely missing the confusion etched across Y/n's face.

Not one to be deterred, Zhongli continued his extravagant courtship. Y/n, feeling overwhelmed, sought guidance from her friend Childe, who was equally clueless.

"What's up with Zhongli, Childe? He's giving me stuff like there's no tomorrow," Y/n whispered, glancing over at Zhongli, who was watching them with an intense gaze.

Childe cluelessly waved at Zhongli, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing. "I think your consultant friend is gonna burn holes in my head with his glaring," he whispered back, causing Y/n to giggle.

Just as Y/n started to unravel the mystery with Childe, Zhongli swooped in, making up some excuse and whisking her away, leaving Childe standing there with a bemused expression.

"Zhongli, what's going on?" Y/n finally asked, her confusion reaching its peak.

Zhongli, wearing a pout that looked almost comical on his usually composed face, handed her another pebble. "I thought you might like another one."

Y/n sighed, adding yet another pebble to her growing collection.

Y/n's room had transformed into a chaotic display of Zhongli's courtship attempts. Trinkets, stones, and various lavish gifts adorned every available surface. It was like a dragon's hoard in miniature, and Y/n couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.

In her flower shop, the situation was no different. The counter was cluttered with sparkling stones, and the shelves were home to a variety of odd trinkets that Zhongli had bestowed upon her. It was like a secret treasure trove hidden within the blossoms.

As Y/n admired a particularly ornate stone, the shop's bell jingled, and in walked Childe, ever the playful troublemaker.

"Hey there, Y/n! I see you've got yourself a playboy millionaire or maybe a sugar daddy," Childe teased, winking mischievously.

Y/n rolled her eyes, accustomed to Childe's banter. "You wish, Childe. It's just Zhongli being… well, Zhongli."

As if on cue, Zhongli entered the shop, holding yet another wrapped gift. Completely ignoring Childe, he walked straight toward Y/n with a focused determination.

"Ah, Y/n. I have something for you," Zhongli said, presenting the gift with a small smile.

Y/n groaned, "Not again, Zhongli. I don't need more stuff."

Childe chimed in, "Come on, Zhongli, share the wealth! I wouldn't mind a little gift myself."

Zhongli shot Childe a glare that could freeze water. "These gifts are only for my mate," he declared, emphasizing the word 'mate' in a way that left Childe looking thoroughly confused.

"Who calls someone a mate these days?" Childe whispered to Y/n, who shrugged in response.

Childe, undeterred, draped an arm around Y/n's shoulder. "Well, if you've got a mate, then I want in on the action too!"

Zhongli's jealousy flared up, and he excused himself, muttering something about needing to attend to important matters. Y/n sighed, caught in the middle of their peculiar dynamic.

Later, as Y/n closed her flower shop, she noticed Zhongli sulking in the shadows nearby. His usually composed demeanor had given way to a hint of vulnerability. Y/n couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy.

"Zhongli, what's bothering you?" she asked, approaching him cautiously.

"You and Childe seem close," Zhongli remarked, his voice tinged with a hint of disappointment.

Y/n, caught off guard, furrowed her brows in confusion. "Well, yeah, he's a friend. Why?"

Zhongli's gaze drifted away, lost in thought. "I may have misunderstood the nature of your relationship. It seems my attempts at courtship are not as effective as I had hoped."

The puzzled pieces finally clicked in Y/n's head. She cupped Zhongli's face, forcing him to meet her gaze. "Zhongli, you're courting me? Why didn't you say anything?"

A genuine surprise painted Zhongli's features as he spoke, "I assumed… I thought the gifts and gestures would convey my intentions."

Y/n burst into laughter. "Zhongli, you're a fantastic consultant, but when it comes to courting, you're seriously lacking in communication."

Before Zhongli could respond, a pebble appeared in his hand as if summoned by magic. He presented it to Y/n with a slight flourish, a sheepish smile playing on his lips.

Y/n deadpanned, "Another pebble, huh? Are you secretly a geo-vision magician or something?"

Zhongli chuckled, "I thought you might appreciate it."

Y/n rolled her eyes playfully. "Zhongli, you don't need to impress me with gifts. Just tell me what you feel."

His stoic demeanour wavered, replaced by a more earnest expression. "I… I value our time together, Y/n. And I may have underestimated the importance of straightforward communication in matters of the heart."

Y/n grinned, realizing the depth of Zhongli's feelings. "Well, now that we've cleared that up, maybe you can court me like a normal person."

Zhongli nodded with a soft smile, relieved that Y/n seemed receptive to his unconventional courtship.

[syrupfog]

“Let’s make someone happy today.”

Sanji’s mom is getting sick and she says, “let’s make someone happy today.”

She teaches Sanji how to dig in the garden for the freshest vegetables, gifting them to the kitchen staff to make their dinner prep easier.

Sanji’s mom hasn’t been able to get out of her bed in weeks and she says, “let’s make somebody happy today.”

She teaches Sanji to bake a cake, messy and sweet and staining her sheets, and they share it among the maids and kitchen staff.

Sanji’s mom is gone and Sanji is down in the dungeons, heavy helmet clamped around his head. “Let’s make someone happy today,” he whispers.

He makes meagre meals, clean as he’s able, and feeds them to the mice. Someone gets to be happy.

Sanji runs and gets stuck on a rock and starves and survives. He has nightmares. Waking up with a racing heart and tears in his eyes, he shakily repeats, “let’s make someone happy today.”

The staff at the Baratie wake up to the smell of a breakfast fit for royalty.

Sanji travels and fights and finds his place on the Straw Hats, and there are more good days than bad.

But then nothing happens.

“Let’s make someone happy today,” he tells himself like a mantra as he cooks up a feast and wishes and will that stupid swordsman to just wake up.

Three days turn into two years and Sanji misses them misses them misses them. “Let’s make someone happy today,” he says as he grits his teeth and pulls on the stupid dress that doesn’t even compliment his waist

Sanji is wanted only alive.

“Let’s make someone happy today,” he says with a robotic steadfast perseverance as he cooks and cooks and cooks, desperate to at least make one solitary person happy as his bracelets clink on his wrists.

That one solitary person says she’s going to kill him at the altar.

“Let’s make someone happy today” echoes inside his chest like a pebble bouncing down a well, as he looks down at all of his crewmembers’ favourite dishes, destroyed and muddy.

“Let’s make someone happy today,” Sanji repeats to himself as he stirs the soba, his mind continually turning back to that broken canister with the 3 inscribed on the side. Turning back to that gap in his memory.

“Let’s make someone happy today.”

“Let’s make someone happy today.”

“Let’s make someone—“

The world is grey. It’s shades of black and white and Sanji’s eyes are glazed over.

He doesn’t understand what the big deal was. Doesn’t understand why these pirates are still coming after him. He’s already critically injured two of them— he has to get back, to give his report.

He remembers them, of course, but he doesn’t CARE. They are statistics in his mind. He has to get back to Germa, he’s been requested.

He swipes with a stolen sword at the green haired man, who parries and attacks with three.

He underestimated him.

There’s a sword through his chest, clean through his heart, and bIood pouring like water.

Let’s make someone—

Let’s—

“Cook! Twirly brows! S-SANJI!”

“Let’s make someone happy today.”

Sanji stands in the kitchen of the Sunny, balancing on the balls of his feet with the sway of the ocean, and he pours two full cups of saké, sliding one across the counter.

There’s an ache in his chest, a scar over his heart.

“I’m not happy,” Zoro growls, not touching the saké.

Sanji frowns. “It’s the good stuff,” he says. “The stuff I hide from you.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” Zoro says. “You can’t just make a situation better by bribing me. I had to KILL YOU.”

“And now I’m back,” Sanji says, his hand ghosting over his chest where the shirt hides his scar. “This is thanks.”

“I’m not drinking it.”

“Well what DO you want?” Sanji asks, exasperation in his tone.

It’s the only thing that makes bad days okay.

Let’s make someone happy today.

Everything’s okay as long as he can make someone happy. He HAS to be able to make someone happy.

“I don’t want booze,” Zoro snaps. “And I don’t want your shit cooking.”

Sanji wants to snap at him but there’s a lump forming in his throat. He has to— to make someone—

What is he supposed to do, then?

Zoro stares him down, deep bags under his eyes. “I don’t want any of that shit,” he says.

Sanji’s shoulders hunch. He stares at the counter. The untouched saké.

“I want to know this won’t happen again,” Zoro says.

“I don’t— C“No,” Zoro cuts him off. “Not that! I want to know you’re not going to come to me again to ask me to fucking kilI you!” He leans forward and grabs Sanji’s wrist, his grip bruising.

“I don’t give a shit about the stuff you’re offering,” he says. “I want YOU. Here. Safe.”

hopper says it’s gone,” Sanji rasps. “Out of my system. Thanks to you—”

The tears behind sanji’s eyes fall unbidden. “Well you’ve got me,” he says. “Does that make you—“

Happy?

Zoro’s grip is unwavering. He leans forward and captures Sanji’s lips with his; rough, firm, reassuring.

He pulls back and glares at Sanji.

It’s a meaningful glare, if there ever was one.

Let’s make somebody happy today.

Sanji wipes the tears from his cheeks and downs his own cup of saké.

“Fine,” he says. “You’ve got me. Here. Safe.”

Zoro cracks a smile. “Good,” he says. “Asshole.”

“Let’s make someone happy today.”

[hiramaris]

Kiss it Off Me

CHAPTER 8

Chapter Summary:

Yeah, she might die a happy woman right here, but if Yoba were kind enough, she hoped she'd live long enough to see those smiles.

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Disclaimer:  I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: none

Notes: I know, I know it's late again. I'm really sorry, my loves. It's just that life hasn't been giving me a break already. Hope you enjoy this one! I know I've been taking my sweet time to this fic at a very slow pace but I just really want to take my time to lay out our characters, especially my wife. I hope you weren't bothered with it but I promise you, all this waiting will be worth it ;)

Spring 8

It was a warm, sunny Tuesday afternoon. Being spring, the afternoon sun did nothing to burn her skin, and the post-winter air combined with the fresh spring breeze provided a wonderful cooling effect on her exposed skin that wasn't covered by her blue tank top.

It was really a great idea to wear her hair up today, allowing her to fully enjoy the refreshing air.

Although there wasn't anything particularly picturesque about hanging out at the playground, it offered Haley a rare moment of solitude away from the crowd.

In her high school days, she would have basked in the attention people gave her.

Back then, being in the spotlight was exhilarating. However, after her peak during college, she found that she didn't like it as much. For one, popularity didn't help her grades, and secondly, being an 'It' girl didn't matter anymore—not when everyone was scrambling to pass their exams.

But now, here in Pelican Town, being popular just meant being in the center of gossip. The less attention she got, the better.

She preferred these quiet moments, where she could be herself without the prying eyes and whispers. The playground, with its empty swings and silent slides, provided the perfect escape from the pressures of scrutinizing gaze from townspeople who were no better than her either.

"Uh, Haley?"

Haley froze at the sound of a familiar voice, the smell of flowers and dirt filling her nostrils. She turned slowly, her heart skipping a beat.

"Oh..." she said, startled. "Hi, there..."

She wasn't expecting to see you so soon after that whole ordeal (Chapter 3, Spring 7). She might have invited you for breakfast out of goodwill and to make up for her rude behavior, but she kind of half-expected you to chicken out and possibly (hopefully) have the presence of mind to avoid her or something because, for the love of Yoba, your presence is becoming too much for her.

You’re like a pebble suddenly thrown into a pond, causing ripples in what was once stagnant. Haley couldn't quite figure out why you had such an effect on her.

You were speaking, talking about what seemed to be a hair tie but Haley's mind was buzzing elsewhere to actually understand you.

Her eyes briefly scanned you. You wore your typical green overalls, and even with a bit of dirt and grass clinging to your clothes, you still managed to look pretty good. The earthy tones seemed to suit you, giving you a rugged, outdoorsy vibe that was oddly attractive.

Surprisingly, your scent wasn't as pungent as Haley expected it to be. In fact, there was a hint of something pleasant mixed in with the earthy aroma, perhaps a subtle whiff of fresh hay or a trace of wildflowers. She couldn't really tell.

Her attention drifted almost inadvertently to your mouth. Slightly chapped, but full pink lips. Wait, what?

Eyes widening by a slight fraction, she immediately darted her eyes elsewhere, making her spot a hair tie and a handful of daffodils in your hand.

Then her eyes spotted Demetrius walking from where you both stood. Haley's mind quickly realized that you were planning to give her another gift this week, and while there's nothing wrong with daffodils (she likes them), you only give them to her when no one is around.

But now, in the presence of Demetrius, who will probably tell Robin, who will likely tell all her Yoga club members, who will surely tell the whole town that you have given her flowers!

While it shouldn't be a big deal, she has lived in this valley long enough that the rumor mill tends to exaggerate things. And Haley doesn't want to get caught in the middle of this.

As you continued speaking, she made a split-second decision to interject, surprising even herself.

"Uhm, how do I say this..." she began, her voice wavering slightly. "I appreciate your gifts and such. But please don't get the wrong ideas. It's not like a little flower will make us besties or anything, you know."

Her pretty mouth is probably the foulest thing ever created, but she couldn't really stop herself from saying the awful things in this world even if her life depended on it. It was as if her mouth had a mind of its own, blurting out things she'd later regret.

Fortunately, you didn't appear offended; rather, you seemed both confused and amused by Haley's abrupt interruption.

"Uhm, I was just asking if this is your hair tie," you said as you handed her the item.

"Oh!" Haley's voice held a note of embarrassment as she accepted the tie from your outstretched hand, her cheeks likely flushed with a deep shade of pink. "I didn't even notice it was missing..."

Your lips quirked up slightly at the sight of her flustered state. "You were saying..?"

Haley was certain you were teasing her, and she would have half a mind to wipe the adorable smirk off your face if she weren't so embarrassed herself.

"Sorry for jumping to conclusions. I was just..." She fidgeted uncomfortably, unable to find the right words. "Well, nevermind."

"Hey, you weren't even wrong. These are actually for you." You presented her with the daffodils before Haley could respond. "And I'm not expecting you to be friends with me just because I give you flowers, you know?"

"Then what else were you expecting?" That question should have sounded so harsh if Haley weren't so busy burying her nose in them to hide her flustered expression.

"Ever heard of giving a pretty flower to a pretty lady?"

She could have sworn she heard Demetrius snort back a laugh.

Haley couldn't help but sigh, but a smirk tugged at her lips at your poor attempt at charming her.

Rumors be damned. These flowers smelled good.

****

Summer 12

"Yoba..." she muttered under her breath, huffing as she finally managed to lift all her shopping bags off the bus. The driver, thankfully, was patient enough to wait as she struggled with her haul.

Some guy had even offered to help her, but Haley shot him a look that could kill, silently telling him to respectfully fuck off. She might have accepted his help if he hadn't been staring at her tits throughout the whole ride and being generally a creep altogether.

There was no way she was letting that perv touch any of her stuff.

The only problem now is how in Yoba's name she's going to lift all these shopping bags back to her house.

"Now there's the pretty face I hadn't seen all day."

Haley immediately perked up at the sound of your voice, her breath hitching as she caught sight of you approaching her.

Your hair was in a loose bun today, with stray strands framing your face in that imperfectly perfect way, it looked so endearing.

The late afternoon sun cast a warm, golden glow, creating an ethereal aura around you as you stepped closer. The sunlight highlighted the gentle slope of your button nose and the soft curve of your lips, naturally tinted with a delicate shade of pink. Your tan skin seemed to radiate warmth, making Haley momentarily forget to breathe.

The sight of you, dressed in a sleek black leather jacket over a fitted white shirt, paired with jeans that hugged your figure just right, only intensified the fluttering in Haley's stomach.

Despite her best efforts to hide it, a flush spread across her cheeks as she took in your appearance.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, attempting to sound casual but failing miserably. The nervousness in her voice was unmistakable.

"Oh, I was about to take a ride to Calico," you replied with a casual shrug, causing Haley's eyes to wander toward the sword strapped behind your broad shoulders. "I've heard there's a cavern there worth exploring."

"To mine?" She couldn't help but make a face. "At this hour?"

You barked out a laugh, the sound hearty and genuine. "Don't worry," you said, a reassuring glint in your eyes. "I'm just going to check the area. My weapons aren't strong enough to take on the monsters in there yet."

"Or better yet, stick to the usual farming and foraging, which is much safer," she suggested, trying to mask her concern with a light tone.

"I don't think so, Hay." You reached out and pinched her nose playfully, earning a mock scowl from her. "Anyway, you need help with the bags?"

She crossed her arms, her stubbornness making its appearance once again. "I think I can handle them myself. Give me some credit."

"Nope." With a chuckle, you swooped in to grab all the shopping bags from the ground, ignoring Haley's protest. "You've been wearing those heels the whole day. They must have been killing your feet right now."

That made Haley pause, her defiance wavering. "B-but—"

"I know you're capable of handling them yourself," you continued, adjusting the bags with ease. "But letting your arms rest for a couple of minutes wouldn't hurt, right?"

Haley sighed, her resolve softening. "At least give me the other bags," she insisted, her cheeks growing warmer by the second.

She wasn't at all foreign to your chivalrous tendencies, but she's still not used to the feeling. She also knew you weren't struggling, she just couldn't shake the guilt of letting you shoulder all the bags after doing such heavy chores on the farm.

But you were stubborn as a mule. When Haley attempted to take some of the bags from you, you shook your head with a playful grin, transferring all the bags to one hand and extending your free hand toward her. "Tell you what, I'll carry the bags, and you can just walk beside me. Deal?"

"B-but I thought you were going to Calico?"

"That could wait," you answered simply, hand still extended, waiting expectantly.

Reluctantly, Haley took your hand, feeling a mix of gratitude and embarrassment. "Fine," she muttered, her cheeks flushing as she glanced away. "But only because my feet are killing me."

You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "That's the spirit!." You beamed at her, oblivious to Haley's heart pounding hard against her chest. "Let's get you home."

Haley usually kept her cool around you, but feeling your calloused palm against her soft hand stirred up a whirlwind of emotions within her.

She'd be a liar if she denied that there are certain nights that she wonders what it would feel like for your hand to intertwine with hers, and it felt like nothing compared to actually feeling it for the first time.

Despite the roughness of your palm and fingertips, it only added to the warmth she was feeling. They were also a bit bigger compared to Haley's, making your hands almost fully encapsulate her whole hand, almost protectively.

She thought she'd dislike the feeling. Strangely, though, it only made her feel secure. They were the hands of a hard worker, after all.

As you walked through town together, she could see the prying eyes of Jodi and Caroline. She sensed their whispers, undoubtedly exchanging her name and yours.

Surprisingly, this time, Haley didn't seem to mind.

Being called 'yours', even in hushed whispers and rumors, didn't seem so bad now.

****

Summer 13

Dear Miss Carter,

Thank you for expressing interest in our modeling opportunity. After careful consideration, we regret to inform you that we have decided to pursue a different direction for the campaign. While we appreciate your enthusiasm, we believe this decision aligns best with our project goals. We hope to collaborate on future endeavors.

Best regards,

Victoria Bloom

Stardew Valley Gazette

Haley couldn't bring herself to read the letter in its entirety. A single glance was enough to confirm her fears—it was a flat-out rejection.

The sting of disappointment was immediate, sharp, and disheartening.

Her hopes had been high this time, not just because she thought she was beautiful enough, but because she believed in her own talent and passion. She loved photography, had an eye for detail, and knew what made a model truly shine in a photograph.

This was one step closer to her dream—her chance to prove she was more than just a pretty face, designer clothes, and expensive make-up.

This is where she truly shines. Or at least that's what she thought.

But maybe she had become too complacent, thinking her appearance alone would open doors for her.

Seeing the words "We regret to inform you..." felt like a punch to the gut. Doubt began to creep in, whispering that perhaps she wasn't as good as she thought. Maybe the others were right after all.

Staring at her reflection in the mirror felt like salt being rubbed into her wounds. This face, this body... they were all she had. And even those seemed to have failed her.

How on earth was she going to break this news to you? You had been the first to support her when she shared her desire to apply for the position. You believed in her, encouraged her, and told her she had what it took. The thought of seeing the disappointment in your eyes was almost unbearable.

Haley was used to feeling disappointed in herself. She had faced setbacks before, but this felt different. This felt like a failure that might change how you saw her, and that was a bitter pill she wasn't ready to swallow yet.

The fear of letting you down, of not living up to the potential you saw in her, weighed heavily on her heart.

She sniffled, regretting how eagerly she had opened the letter. Now she had to face Alex and celebrate his birthday, looking like she had been crying for hours. Her mascara was smudged, leaving dark streaks down her cheeks, and her eyes were puffy and red from crying.

While she may have to put on her mask, pretend everything's okay, she knew that you and Alex could easily see through her facade no matter how hard she tried to put on a brave face.

It will still ruin the spirit of the party.

Maybe she should consider not going.

But Alex would be upset with her.

Or, either that, he'll physically drag her to the party himself.

Both scenarios felt like disasters.

She let out a harsh breath. Attending was the only option.

She began to retouch her makeup, particularly the parts that had smudged because of her tears, but it was a difficult task with the tears continuously pouring down her cheeks. Her hands trembled as she tried to fix the damage but she didn't dare stop.

She had to look perfect.

Fake it until you make it.

Come on...

A sob couldn't help but escape from her lips.

Fuck.

"Haley." A pair of warm, rough hands take hold of her own, stopping her from smudging her makeup even further. "Haley, come on. Stop."

"Huh..?" Her voice hitched as she saw you tower over her. Her big, baby-blue eyes, filled with unshed tears, met yours.

Oh, no....

You can't see her like this.

"What's wrong?" you began to question, keeping a firm grip on her hands but not too tight to hurt her.

Haley only shook her head. You can't see me like this.

As you lifted her chin up to face you, forcing Haley to meet your gaze, her eyes still glistening with tears, you noticed a makeup wipe lying nearby. With a quick yet gentle movement, you reached behind her back and snatched it up.

"I'd rather fight a whole swarm of skeletons than see you like this," you murmured as you gingerly wiped mascara stains from her cheeks with such gentleness, leaving nothing but her smooth, rosy skin. "What's wrong, Haley? Tell me, please."

She should just push you away. Tell you to leave her alone.

But she couldn't. Not when you're looking at her like that.

Like she's worth of so much more.

And just like that, Haley's resolve crumbled. She had been trying so hard to keep it together, to be strong, but your kindness broke through her defenses. Fresh tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over as she tried to find the words.

"I... I got rejected," she finally managed to say, her voice shaking. "I really thought I'd get that job. Finally prove I'm more than just a dumb blonde from Pelican Town. But now... I feel like such a failure."

"You know that's not true."

"I keep trying my best, Y/n..." Her lips quivered and you were quick to caress her cheeks. "But it feels like I'm getting nowhere."

You squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. "Haley, you're not a failure. You put yourself out there and took a risk. That's something to be proud of."

"But what if I'm just not good enough?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "What if I'll never be good enough?"

"Hey, hey... none of that. You are more than good enough," you assured her, gently cupping her cheeks before pressing a chaste kiss on her forehead. "One rejection doesn't define you or your worth. And it certainly doesn't change how I see you."

Haley sniffled again, trying to believe your words. "You're not bullshitting me, are you? Because I'm not in the mood to bake for you right now, you know?"

"I would never." You chuckled, your laughter infectious as Haley joined in. "Plus, it's their loss, you know? Only idiots would turn down a spectacular photographer AND model."

"Now I know you're definitely just kissing my ass," Haley snorted, lightly tapping your shoulder. As if to further tease her, your eyes playfully drifted downward, making it Haley's turn to cup your cheeks, unable to stop herself from giggling. "Eyes up here, miss."

"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," you retorted with a playful smirk, your eyes meeting hers with a twinkle of mischief.

Haley's laughter subsided, replaced by a soft, appreciative smile.

"Thank you, Y/n..." Her eyes are now sparkling with adoration instead of tears. The hands cupping your cheeks slid around your neck, drawing you closer. "You always know what to say to make me feel better."

Closeness that was once awkward and forced...

What was once a heart pounding like a drum in her chest, fast and hot in an uneven rhythm...

Is now a heart steadily beating.

This closeness is calm and silent.

And if she were to die today in this spot with your arms around her, then Haley would die a happy woman.

"Keeping you happy is a responsibility I'd happily taken upon myself," you said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead once again, and Haley couldn't help but close her eyes this time, unable to suppress her own smile. "Now, let's fix your makeup," you added with a small smile, reaching for the makeup wipe again. "And then we'll go to Alex's party together. We'll get through this, one step at a time."

Haley nodded, a genuine smile tugging at her lips. Yeah, she might die a happy woman right here, but if Yoba were kind enough, she hoped she'd live long enough to see those smiles.

****

Summer 17

Click. Click.

Haley sighed as she looked through her camera's viewfinder.

"Just how many variations of the same shot can I take?" she muttered, exhaling another sigh.

After her sudden show of vulnerability to you, Haley suddenly got this urge to take pictures once again. While she may have failed to get that position as a model, that doesn't mean she failed as a photographer.

But looking at the flat, uninspired pictures she'd been taking for almost an hour now, she was starting to think otherwise.

The view here was spectacular, sure, but she’d been photographing this same spot by the lake for years now.

She needed something new. Something more alive.

Haley lowered her camera and gazed around, searching for a fresh perspective. The sun was up and about, casting a golden glow on the water and surrounding trees. It was beautiful–majestic even, if she could dare to say, but still... it wasn't enough.

It felt soulless. Bland.

Chop. Chop.

"That again." Haley couldn't help but glare in the direction of the sound, as if her annoyance alone could make it stop.

The incessant noise of wood chopping from the distance was not helping her at all. Whoever was chopping away had been at it for hours already and didn't give the impression of stopping anytime soon.

She tried to refocus, raising her camera again, but her concentration which was already nonexistent to begin with, was now a mere dust taken away by the summer breeze. The rhythmic, relentless chopping seemed to seep into her mind, making it impossible to find the spark she was looking for.

As if this person knew which buttons to push, the sound of a tree crashing to the ground echoed through the air, making a fully formed nerve start to throb on her forehead.

Whoever that idiot was, they were really going to get a piece of her mind. There was a whole damn forest just south of here, so why did they have to do it here?

Yoba forbid if it was Clint. He was really going to get an earful.

Frustrated, she decided to investigate.

Maybe a change of scenery—or at least figuring out what was going on—would help. Haley packed up her camera and headed toward the source of the noise.

As Haley got closer, she stopped when you suddenly emerged from behind a mahogany tree, an axe in hand.

You leaned down to grab a bottle of water beside your rucksack resting against the tree. Haley only realized she was staring when even the droplet of water that missed your mouth began to cascade across your neck down to your already wet tank top, leaving little to no imagination.

Yoba, when did it get so hot?

Probably unable to not notice such a pretty being such as herself on your peripheral, you turned your head to her with that familiar shit-eating grin she had grown to like so much as you closed the cap of your bottle.

"Hey there, pretty lady!" you greeted, slamming your axe on the stump behind you as you walked closer. "I didn't know you were here."

"Hey, yourself," she greeted with a small smile, her initial irritation suddenly evaporated into thin air. "I'm trying to get back on foot with photography and I was kind of distracted with the chopping noise, is all."

"Oh!" You scratched your nape sheepishly. Haley couldn't help but notice the way the sunlight caught the sweat on your skin, the muscles in your arms flexing with each movement. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to distract you."

Oh, you are distracting her alright, but probably for the wrong reasons.

"I just needed some woods so Robin could make some renovations on the cabin. Didn’t think anyone would be around," you went on, seemingly unaware of the effect you had on her. "If you'd like, I can hang with you for a bit. See your progress with your camera."

"Sure," Haley replied distractedly. "Wait, what?"

Before she knew it, you were peering over her shoulder, waiting expectantly for her to show the pictures she just took. The scent of sweat, wood, and flowers filled her nostrils, and Haley couldn't help but feel lightheaded. In a good way, she supposed.

Still, it was too much all at once.

Overwhelmed by the closeness that had been familiar over the months you had spent here, Haley instinctively backed away from you.

"Sorry," you chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck. "I forgot I smell."

"No!" she almost shrieked, her cheeks turning a shade of pink. "It's not that. I just…" she sighed deeply. "I got nothing to show you. All my shots are flat. Almost the same variations of the same scene. I can't put these in my portfolio, Y/n."

You plopped down on the grass, leaning back on your arms as you looked up at her with brilliant eyes. "That can't be true. You love taking pictures of this place."

"I know..." She let out another sigh, gingerly sitting on the grass in front of you. "I used to love this, capturing the beauty in everything. But now, it's like I'm stuck in a loop. There's got to be more to photography than just this."

"I think..." you trailed off, rummaging through your bag and producing a piece of white cloth. You brushed off the grass beside you, clearing away dried leaves and small pebbles before laying the cloth down. "Come sit here first, Haley." You patted the spot next to you.

Haley nodded dumbly, surprised and touched by your thoughtfulness. Did you really made sure she wouldn't sit directly on the grass because you knew how much she disliked getting dirty?

"I was saying," you continued, brushing off a stray piece of dry grass from Haley's skirt before helping her get comfortable beside you, "I think you need to find some new motives to spark your excitement again."

Haley settled next to you, feeling a bit more at ease. "New subjects, huh? Like what?"

You smiled, your eyes twinkling with ideas. "Anything that catches your eye. Maybe try photographing people, events, or even little details you might have overlooked before. Sometimes, a change in perspective is all it takes."

Haley considered your words. "You might be onto something there. I mean, I've been so focused on the same old scenes that I haven't really thought about branching out. It's just..." She looked down at the camera on her lap. "It's hard to break out of my comfort zone, you know? Old habits die hard, I guess."

"How about you take a photo of me chopping woods?" you suggested with a smirk as you helped her up.

"Be my model, you say?" Haley replied, a mischievous glint lighting up her eyes. "That's not a bad idea. You'd actually make a pretty good model if I say so myself."

That wiped the smile right out of your face.

"I was just kidding!"

"Nope." She grinned, even exaggerating the 'p' sound to further tease you. "Get your axe and get to chopping already, miss."

"But I'm as stiff as a board to be your model!" you whined but were already on your way to retrieve your axe.

"Just pretend I'm not here. Be candid."

"It's kind of difficult to ignore your camera's lens," you muttered, gripping the axe.

"Y/n," she called from behind her camera, adjusting the settings to capture the perfect shot. "Remember that photo I gave you last month?"

"Yeah..?"

"It was a good photo, you know?"

"Really?"

"You didn't need to pose at all to look good. Just be yourself." Haley briefly looked up from her camera, meeting your eyes with a soft smile before going back behind her lens. "I like you a lot better that way, anyway."

****

Later that night, she found herself inside her freshly made dark room. Designing this room had been challenging, but nothing was more challenging than sifting through hundreds, maybe thousands, of clothes in her walk-in closet that is now turned into the dark room, and finding some clothes she'd be willing to donate next spring for charity.

She truly loves her clothes and finds them as her way of expressing herself but hoarding them at this rate is alarming. So what better way to make good use of space than for her passion?

Though not completely satisfied with her setup, Haley knew this would have to do for now. Once the rest of the equipment she needed arrived, she'd definitely want you to see her darkroom one day.

With everything developed, she began to scan each photo with keen eyes, ready to pick out the ones that would go into her portfolio. But as she went through them, she realized that had been a mistake.

Her shots were... Impeccable. No surprise there.

And you were surprisingly a good model. Too good, actually.

She stopped on a particular photo, eyes raking towards your exposed stomach when you were about to slam your axe towards a log, arm flexing as you did. You have this fierce expression that's making Haley feel a lot of things one would deem explicit.

She felt her cheeks heat up as she continued to stare at the image, tracing the lines of your muscles with her eyes.

If she were to touch them, would they be hard against her fingertips or smooth and inviting? She was pretty sure that if you pinned her against the wall, she wouldn't budge. Not because she couldn't get past your solid chest, but because she'd probably melt right then and there, too overwhelmed to move.

Realizing she's thirsting over your photo, Haley gently slapped herself out of her trance. She tried to focus on the technical aspects of the photo, but it was no use. The picture was stunning and well—hot, and it's not just because of her photography skills. You were the reason it stood out so much. The way the light caught the sweat on your skin, the determination in your eyes—it all combined to create a powerful image.

She sighed, placing the photo in the "keep" pile. If she was this smitten over a couple of photos, there was no way she was submitting all of them. She liked to think these were for her eyes only, especially if that sultry, almost enticing gaze you were giving in front of the lens was anything to go by.

****

Summer 23

"Okay, Haley you got this. It's just water," she mentally cheered herself. "Every pretty girl must know how to swim on the beach."

It was probably just her screwed reasoning, but it definitely wasn’t because she saw you the other day swimming with Leah like some Olympic swimmer or something.

She's also gonna ignore the part that she avoids swimming on the beach because of some incident involving being taken away by the tide, water choking her lungs and her almost dying.

It wasn’t like that experience had put her off swimming entirely. She still loved the beach. The sun, the sand, the perfect tan it gave her—what's not to love?

But now, standing at the edge of the water, her toes curling into the wet sand, Haley felt the familiar knot of anxiety in her stomach. She took a deep breath, glancing over at the waves lapping gently at the shore.

"Just focus on the sun and the sea breeze," she told herself. "You can do this."

Anyway. It's not so bad if she confronted this... err—setback of her, right?

"Fancy seeing you here, Haley."

Haley whirled around from almost touching the water with her foot. Do you have some superpower in showing up whenever she felt the need to be vulnerable?

It wasn't that she didn't appreciate your presence, but she specifically woke up at the crack of dawn to practice her swimming skills because she knew you'd probably be busy tending to your farm, and most of the folks would still be snoring in their beds.

Well, aside from Elliot of course—knowing him, he was probably up already writing books and wouldn't leave his cabin anytime soon.

"Hi!" she finally greeted after what felt like an eternity of looking at your face. "I didn't expect to see anyone here so early."

"Really? I thought you know me well enough to know that I'm already up by 6 AM." You chuckled, running a hand through your hair. "And since when do you wake up so early? What happened to your beauty sleep?"

"Shut up. I'm just..." she rolled her eyes, stalling. She's not keen to tell you just yet what she's up to. Especially for a ridiculous reason. "I just felt like coming here for some fresh air."

Haley looked so proud of the reason she had come up with but it seemed you weren't buying her excuse.

"You look like you're going for a swim," you observed. Haley could have sworn she saw you checking her out, but it was gone as soon as she blinked. "You look good in blue."

Caught off guard by the compliment, Haley felt her cheeks warm up. "Oh, um, thanks," she mumbled, trying to play it cool.

Ever perceptive, you must have noticed she looked a little off.

You tilted your head, a hint of concern in your eyes. "Everything alright? You seem a bit caught off guard."

She sighed, glancing down at the sand. "Well, I guess I am."

"Wanna talk about it?"

Haley hesitated, weighing her words. "I could, but aren't you going somewhere?"

"I was planning to fish for some crimson fish," you explained, rubbing the back of your neck. "But now that I think about it, I remembered Willy saying there's a specific time for catching it. So, I have time right now."

Haley gave you a hard look. She knew you long enough to know you were bullshitting her. The tips of your ears turning red was a telltale sign she noticed whenever you lied. Which wasn't often, because you couldn't lie convincingly even if your life depended on it.

"Are you sure?" she asked, eyebrow raised. "It sounded important."

"Don't worry about it," you insisted, trying to sound casual.

You lent out a hand and Haley took it without hesitation. For some reason, clasping her hands against yours seemed a normal occurrence now that it seemed weird not to do it.

"Come on, let's sit by the shore. I heard the sunrise during summer looks great."

"Alright." Haley gave a small smile, appreciating the effort you were making to put her at ease. "Let's go."

The two of you walked towards the water's edge, the cool sand squishing beneath your feet. The horizon was starting to glow with the first hints of dawn, painting the sky in shades of pink and orange.

Sitting down, you both stared out at the calming waves. Haley took a deep breath, feeling a little more grounded by the familiar presence next to her.

"So, what's really going on?" you asked, your voice raspy but gentle. It was so soft that if it weren't quiet around them, she wouldn't have heard it. It was as if you were afraid to break the tranquil moment.

It was quiet for a moment. But the silence wasn't uncomfortable or forced by any means. It was calm and warm—feelings you seem to radiate whenever you were around.

After a few moments of finding a comfortable position to sit, Haley's head found its way to rest on your shoulder, and as if on instinct, your hand settled on the small of her back, pulling her closer.

"You know, I was thinking about getting out of my comfort zone," Haley began, staring at the waves.

"What do you mean?" you asked, turning to look at her, your cheek pressing gently against her hair.

"Okay, fine. I'll admit it." She took a deep breath. "I'm scared of swimming in the ocean. Silly, right?"

"I don't think it's silly," you declared, and Haley couldn't help but believe you.

"I read online about confronting your fears and thought I'd give it a shot. But..." She sighed, looking down at her hands. "I couldn't bring myself to do it."

You gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Fears are real. It doesn't matter how it may seem to anyone. The fact you're even trying to face them is a big step already."

"Thanks, Y/n... I just couldn't help but feel like I'm letting myself down, you know?"

"You're not letting yourself down," you reassured her, your voice gentle but firm. "We all have things that scare us, and it's okay to take your time. The important part is that you're here, trying to overcome it. That's something to be proud of."

"Thanks, Y/n," she murmured, her fingers gently squeezing your arm. "It means a lot to hear you say that."

"Anytime," you responded with a chaste kiss against her hair and Haley could feel herself melt on the spot if she could. "Maybe it's about finding the right way to face your fear. How about we do it together?"

"You'd do that?" she leaned back from you with surprise in her eyes.

"Of course. I'd also feel a lot better if you had someone looking out for you."

"Alright... I'll give it another shot. Just... just promise me you'll be there with me?"

"I promise."

****

As you both waded into the water, Haley took a deep breath, focusing on the feel of the cool water against her skin and the soothing rhythm of the waves. She glanced at you, and the sight of your reassuring smile gave her the courage to take another step forward.

"Okay..." she breathed. "I'm in the water."

It felt different from her usual pool experience, with the sand underfoot instead of solid ground, but she was cautious not to let her foot stomp on any sea urchin.

"You're doing good, Haley," you encouraged from behind.

"This... definitely feels different," she admitted, noticing the vastness of the ocean around her.

"But the water feels nice, right?"

She nodded, still unsure what to feel. While the fear of being taken by the tide lingers in the back of her mind, the thought you're just behind her makes her feel safe, even just for a little bit.

Feeling a little brave, she wadded a bit further until the water rose up to her chest. She can feel that familiar pressure in her lungs, and she can feel herself panicking a little, her breath coming in short gasps.

"Is everything alright?" your voice cut through the sound of the waves.

"Could you maybe..." her voice cracked a bit and she couldn't dare herself to turn around and face you, afraid the wave would swallow her whole if she even dared to move. "Can you come a bit closer to me, Y/n? I'm still a bit scared..."

"Come here..." It wasn't long before she felt your familiar arms enveloping her, offering a sense of security she desperately needed. "I got you, see?"

"Thanks…" she murmured, a shiver coursing through her body despite the warmth of your embrace.

"One step at a time."

"One step at a time," she echoed your words, trying to muster some courage. "It's not that bad, right? I mean it's just water."

"Uhuh," you nodded, your breath warm against her ear. "Plus keeping yourself calm is one of the important aspects of swimming. And you know, being aware of the tides so you know when it's okay to take a swim."

"Okay... I'll keep note of that."

****

"Can you believe I modeled in swimsuits once?" Haley suddenly said after allowing herself to be familiar with the water. "This feels a lot different from a photo shoot."

"Even if you don't tell me, I'd assume you had been in one before," you mused as you tucked a stray blonde hair away from her face. "You're more than brave enough than you let on. Doing a photoshoot needs a lot of bravery, too, and— well, confidence. Give yourself some credit."

"You know what? In some ways I did face scarier things, I guess," she admitted with a chuckle. "Like wearing heels on a rocky path for a shoot."

"Hmm, just think about those whenever you feel like you can't do it."

Haley couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at you, her lips curling up in amusement. "You're making it sound like modeling is a big thing and you facing dozens of monsters in a cave like a walk in the park."

"Well, I'd rather take on hundreds of slimes than be a model," you grumbled, a playful scowl on your face. "I'd look silly."

"That's ridiculous, you'd be a great model."

"You're just kissing my ass." With a mischievous grin, you splashed some water on her face, making Haley gasp at your audacity.

"I would never!" she protested, laughing as she wiped the water from her cheeks before retaliating with a splash of her own, catching you off guard.

Oh, it's on.

****

Previous

Next

A/n: this chapter is more like a filler—a glimpse of how Haley and the farmer got closer. I stumbled upon a mod that adds additional heart events for Haley, and I decided to include it. I'm focusing more on exploring Haley's arc, which is why I'm drawing out this fanfic so much. Forgive me; I just couldn't jump ahead to the kissing and whatnot, even though I'm dying to write that scene already.

This is actually a two-part chapter because I think the mod adds about ten heart events, and I had to cut it short since I think this chapter is already lengthy. I also need a couple of hours to rest my eyes. Forgive me for any grammatical errors; I continued writing this after my exams, so my head is a bit foggy at the moment. Love y'all and thank you for your patience.

@joordynn

taglist:

@taliiiaasteria

@iluvwomen01

[thehypnone]

what if... what if ghouls can't be topside for long?

they're demons from hell, right, and what if the summoning spell is not strong enough to keep them topside for too long. just a few years

and then they start deteriorating

there are ghouls whose clocks are ticking from the very moment they took their first breath topside. zephyr, rain... plagued not only with constant thoughts of the nearing end but also chronic pain their whole, short lives on earth

skin cracking, horns breaking off

it hurts, like a bitch, and it's complete agony by the time it's done, when they just... turn to dust

and that's it

their time is up

and even if they could live millennia in hell, getting summoned onto earth is like a death sentence

now...

mountain's and dew's time will come soon, they can already feel it. at least they'll go together

alpha, omega, mist, water, earth, ivy, pebble, air, zephyr, ifrit, and others whos names no one remembers already. they're all gone. omega was the longest living ghoul in history. aether was summoned shortly after zephyr and ifrit and well... he's not here, anymore, is he?

the rest, swiss, rain, cirrus and cumulus, will stay a few years more, probably. they'll go one by one, day by day, just like how they got summoned

sunshine, phantom and aurora will stay for a bit longer, then sunny going first. by the time phantom and aurora's turn will come up the abbey will be filled with newly summoned ghouls already but...

its not just a bunch of demons that'll die out fully with aurora, who'll come last

no it'll be an end of a family

a family that no one will remember

they were just demons... right?

[mrs-kodzuken]

You know me best ♡

Pairing: Best friend!Rintarō Suna x fem!reader

WC: 4.6k

Genre: fluff, slow burn, sexual tension

CW: fem!reader, best friends to lovers trope, angsty notes of readers dad who left when reader was young, long haired reader (not specified hair type), girlish!reader (subtle), slight slow burn, sexual tension, hot making out but doesn’t go further than that

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Hearing the bell ring, signaling the end of our Friday school day, has my peers immediately packing up and leaving the classroom.

Some of them are leaving for their extracurricular activities, after-school jobs, or simple study dates for the upcoming tests they have on Monday.

However, for me, there was one person waiting for me, as always.

Rintarō Suna. Standing there in his 6'5 tall glory was my childhood best friend.

His pretty dark brown hair, which was slightly combed down and had middle parted bangs, shone out of his eyes, which shone the beautiful grayish-yellow color he was born with.

Suna was a lot of things: a son, a volleyball player, a friend to others, but most importantly, a friend to me. He leaned on the door of my classroom with a little smile, just there for me.

"Hi pretty, are you ready?" He asked me, calling me by the nickname he and his family had given me ever since we befriended each other when we were younger.

I smiled brightly up at him. "Of course, Rin," I answered. I could feel the excitement pumping through my blood as we walked to his house.

Surprisingly, he said he didn't have practice today. I'm not sure if that is actually true or a lie since we walked out of different doors of the school instead of our usual ones by the gym.

He placed one earbud in my right hand as he placed the other in his left ear. I assumed that he wanted to listen to music on our way to his house.

Speaking of his house, the entire reason I'm going and he's skipping practice is because his parents had asked when I was coming over again, meaning that I hadn't been over there in a while.

I greedily said yes to Suna's offer because, why not? I loved his parents to death. Music danced in my ear as I placed the earbud in my right ear.

We must be listening to his playlist since "Hayloft" by Mother Mother was playing.

The walk was simple and easy. It was a warm, sunny day; there was not even a cloud in the sky that I could see when I lifted my head up to look.

I glanced towards Rin, and he was slightly bopping his head to the rhyme of the song, obviously liking it. I kicked some pebbles while walking, trying to slightly keep up with Suna.

One thing about him was that he had way longer legs than I did. I mean, I'm definitely not 6'5 feet tall.

"Suna, what did you say we were having for dinner again?" I questioned, and one thing his parents definitely knew was that I had grown up to be an extremely picky eater.

It wasn't even that I didn't like a lot of foods; it was just a texture thing for me.

Before he answered, he had skipped the song "I was all over her" by Salvia Palth, for who knows what reason.

"Homemade cheeseburgers and fries." He chuckled, glancing down at me, knowing exactly why I asked him that question. Suddenly, "505" by the Arctic Monkeys blasted into my left ear.

It was one of my favorite songs of all time, so of course he had to play it for me.

Our bodies walked side by side beside each other as I did a little air drum to the music while I felt Suna's eyes watching me curiously. He decided to play along and do the air guitar to not leave me hanging.

We stood there, looking completely stupid, in the middle of the sidewalk, playing air instruments to a song only we could even hear.

Once it was over, all I could hear was the sound of laughter between us as we continued to walk to his house. Only four houses away.

That is, until I heard the sad-sounding melody of what could only be "Daddy Issues" by The Neighbourhood distastefully enter my ear. I yanked the earbud out of my ear as soon as I heard at least four seconds of the song.

"I think I'm done listening to music," I told Suna, not wanting to talk about the action I just performed. It was just his playlist; there was nothing else to it, I tried to tell myself.

"I didn't even realize it was going to play; I'm sorry, pretty." I heard Rin say, something soft of genuine, leaking out of his voice. I knew it wasn't his fault; he wouldn't do that to me after knowing me all these years.

I sighed a painful sigh. "It's okay, Rin. I know. Good thing we're having cheeseburgers and fries, huh?" I said, trying to lighten the mood after my stupid little stunt.

He cracked a smile at me as we walked up to his house.

"Mom has been asking and asking about us and if we're still friends." He couldn't help but let out a small laugh at his mother's antics. I kind of get it.

I had a good home life that was provided to me by my mom, only my mom. It's just been me and her since I was four years old.

"Hey, at least your dad can control it more than her, right? So you're not hearing both parents ask you constantly why your favorite friend wasn't coming over as often as she did when she was twelve?" I jokingly asked him, trying to be a glass-half-full type of person while talking about myself in the third person.

Things changed when we entered junior high and even more in high school. Suna found his passion for volleyball and nonstop practice in junior high; he loved it. That passion continued through the years, even now in our third year.

"Hah, yeah. True."

Suna and I didn't stop being friends throughout all those years, but we didn't talk or hang out as much as we did when we were younger. I could tell he was thinking about it, reliving the memories, as I watched the far-away look in his eyes.

That is, until I open his white-painted front door.

"I'm here!" I shouted as I took my shoes off and set them side by side, neatly. I could tell Suna was about to do the same before my attention shifted to the picture frame lining the wall when I entered.

I saw Suna's mom come through the doorway from the living room and greet me.

"Oh, (Y/n)! How we've missed you!" She exclaimed in surprise, her arms squeezing me into a bear hug, then pinching my cheeks like I was seven again. It made me feel seven again too; I missed it.

I knew they were looking all over me to see how much I've grown over the years.

I let my hair grow out and tried to dress myself more 'girlish' as a personal preference, growing into who I really am.

"I've missed you guys too," I hugged her back, then hugged Suna's dad, who had his arms wide open for his 'angel'. It was a nickname I hadn't heard in forever. I had gotten it for being so well behaved when I first visited, a star child they had used to say.

This was only because, at the time, I thought being on my absolute best behavior would make him come back.

Newsflash, it didn't.

I dove into the hug, letting Suna's dad's arms tightly hug me. I could tell that his arms were trying to give me all those hugs I missed from my own, starting when I was four.

"It feels so good to be back." I stated, breaking the hug and blinking a little too fast for a reason I would never admit.

We moved from the entryway to the living room, or at least Suna and I did while his parents gave me longing smiles before leaving to the kitchen.

"So, 'angel,' what do you want to do first?" Suna asked, playfully teasing at my nickname I received from his father when I was a kid.

I smirked, "Well, I was actually hoping to beat you in some card games since you want to be so busy and not invite me over for a few years." I teased back at him, effectively guilt-tripping him.

I knew life had just gotten too busy, and it happens; I don't blame him. That didn't stop the yearning I'd feel most nights, wanting to be in your presence for whatever reason.

"If you say so, pretty. I think I can handle you very well." I couldn't help but imagine the double meaning of the words he spoke. I felt a small flutter in my chest at the thought of him actually meaning it in a different way.

"Oh yeah? Then let's start." I retorted to him, heading up to his room, where he kept his playing cards, and to set my bag down in there.

I slowed just a bit when I walked past the kitchen and watched his parents for a split second. They were smiling at each other while making the dinner that I so graciously loved.

After entering Suna's room, I stopped. I hadn't been in this room since we were kids; it feels different now.

More intimate.

His twin bed got switched out for what seems like a queen-sized bed with black satin sheets and a stuffed animal sitting right in the middle.

It was one I got him one year on his birthday, which definitely warmed my heart seeing him sitting there.

"You probably cuddle it to sleep, don't you?" I slyly said to him as I watched him set mine and his bags in the closet, where his usually goes.

"That's none of your business," He rolls his eyes at me so sassily.

"Well, I'd like to believe that it is my business since I spent two weeks worth of my allowance to get you that stuffed bear." I said to him, my hands on my hips, my playful, narrowed eyes.

"Yeah, anyways," he says, trying to change the subject, "you're supposed to be whooping my ass in cards, remember?" His finger taps my forehead twice.

I don't want to say that I wasn't affected by the small touch, but I was. The flutters were back in my stomach, more so than earlier.

"Right," I agreed, scanning his room for the cards and finding them on the shelf above his desk.

Which, you know, was perfect since I couldn't fucking reach them. I tried lifting myself up on my tippy toes and trying to grab them, to no avail.

My next step was to stand up on his rolly chair and reach them. I could do it then, but the question I asked myself was,'should I'?

There's a potential risk of me falling and breaking my ass on the floor. I did it anyway, though.

I grabbed on to the back of the chair, hoping to keep it still and on the floor, as my wobbly legs stood up.

I was able to finally reach the cards; however, I could feel the holes burning in my back from Rin's stare. I didn't turn around, but it did make me nervous, and that nervousness was my downfall.

I grabbed the cards and tried to get down super fast but took a turn too quickly, feeling my black skirt fly, and was so close to falling on my face before warm, strong arms came around me.

There was a semi-loud bang of his chair hitting the carpet floor, thanks to the soft landing. I looked up, hands still clasped on the cards that I grabbed, Suna's grayish-yellow eyes capturing my (e/c) ones.

I was unable to break away from his embrace, his arms still tightly wrapped around my waist.

That is, until his mom called from downstairs, "Are you kids okay?" Worry filled her voice, and I immediately felt bad for thinking about everything that I was doing in that moment.

I broke my body from his embrace and eyes and said, "We're good." I called back down to her, not wanting her to come upstairs and see my flushed face.

It was most likely bright red; I had never been held like that before, and it didn't help that I had also never had a boyfriend.

"We should go down." Rin trailed off; I could feel him staring at me hard. I made my way past him with a small nod of my head, wanting the awkward air to fizzle out of us.

When I walked downstairs, my thoughts were completely cleared as I put Suna back into the best friend box and not anything more than that.

"So, are you ready to be absolutely smashed in these games?" I asked him, putting my friendly smirk back on after I collected myself. We rounded his coffee table in the living room.

"Oh, you bet. However, don't underestimate me, pretty." I hated and loved that mischievous glint in his eyes when he looked at me. It felt like he meant the double meaning of his words when telling me that.

After about seven games and a few threats back and forth between him and me, we settled on a tie from all the games.

However, we all know who the real winner was during all those games.

My phone pinged, and the sound of a message coming through my phone made me break my stare down with Rintarō. I got up and bent over to grab my phone from the couch.

It was my mom.

I immediately texted her back where I was because I knew she could worry too much about me. Ever since I was four, she has been extremely protective, but she could trust the Sunas'—they're amazing.

I didn't realize that I was still bent over until I felt cool air flow through my skirt.

I turned around so quickly, hoping to not catch Rin staring at me, or more directly, my ass. But when I did turn, he was on his phone, scrolling like he usually does. A small feeling of disappointment ran through my body.

I shoved that stupid feeling down. As soon as his mom came into the living room, dinner was ready.

Dinner went by in a flash. It consisted of small talk about what I've been doing these past few years, how my mom was doing, and Rin and I throwing fries at each other when his parents got up to clean their plates.

I was happy that Rin's parents arranged this little day for us to hang out. I missed her almost as much as I've missed Rin over the years.

Sooner than later, a movie got picked up in the living room after dinner, and it was a comedy. Comedies are one of my favorite kinds of movie genres, too. As we all settled on the couch, getting into a comfortable spot, we played the movie.

Suna was right beside me; he even offered to share a blanket with me. His parents sat across from us, cuddling close to each other as they very lightly talked about the movie.

Before I even knew it, my eyes started to feel very heavy. Sleep was after me since I had a full day of school, then activities right after. I could feel my body slowly falling onto Rin.

I tried lifting myself and leaning back against the couch, but before I could even do that, he pressed me down.

I slightly looked up at him with tired eyes; it was my lame way of asking if this was okay for me to do. As I already knew the answer, he shook his head and said yes.

I laid there, letting sleep come over me, thinking they would wake me up when it was time for me to leave.

I was on the brink of sleep, but before I let it consume me, I felt myself slip further until I was rested on Rin's lap. He had lightly started playing with my hair, which soothed me even more, and I drifted off.

My eyes snapped open, adjusting to the darkness that was before me. The last few things I remember were falling asleep on Suna's lap.

I blinked a couple times and realized that warm arms had me trapped in place.

Oh, my God. I was in Suna's room. In Suna's bed. Cuddling with Suna. And not just platonic cuddling; our bodies were pressed together, and I could feel him through my school clothes.

I tried wiggling away from him, not wanting to take even a peek at him. I was afraid that I would do something if I did take a look. However, my actions ended in vain when Rin tightened himself around me.

I couldn't take it anymore. "Rin," my voice softly came out.

"Rin, I have to go. Let me go." A grumble from behind me was all I heard as an answer.

"It's late; just sleep here." His groggy voice came out and filled my body with heat.

"No, I can't. I didn't shower; I didn't brush my teeth; I didn't change.

"Who cares? You're comfortable, right?" He cut me off, asking me the wrong question.

I sighed annoyingly at him. We haven't slept together since we were children, and that was when I used to be over all the time.

I wasn't going to say how soft his bed and sheets were; it made me want to stay there forever.

"What time is it? My mom needs to know where I am; I have to go home." I told him, not answering his question, while sitting up.

I checked his clock on the nightstand. It turns out it was just eleven o'clock, which was strange because I felt rested already.

His window was slightly open, letting a cold breeze in as well as the small light of the moon, which I couldn't see before.

"My parents already texted your mom, pretty. Now, please, lay with me." Rin was leaned up on his elbows, the black shirt he was wearing suffocating around his biceps.

God, did he look good.

"Can I at least take a shower? I can't sleep with my uniform on. It's uncomfortable." I half told him the truth.

The main reason I must've woken up was because sleeping in anything besides underwear was so uncomfortable for me.

And with it being just my mother and me growing up, I didn't have anything to worry about when sleeping like that.

"Yeah, fine. Use my bathroom; I'm sure you can figure everything else out," he commented before rolling over, effectively slumping his face into the pristine, black silk pillow cover.

I made my way over to the door of what I presumed to be his bathroom and shut it right after entering.

My heart beat fast in my chest as I raised an arm to cover the sound, even though the logical side of me knew that Rin wouldn't be able to hear it.

Settling on warmish-hot water, I quickly got into the shower, letting the water droplets fall onto me, relaxing my tense and overloaded body.

I looked around at Suna's shower essentials, which ranged from fancy body wash and hair wash to men's razors and a back scrubber.

Hoping he wouldn't mind, I used his loofah and body wash to cleanse myself from the day. I can't believe he let me sleep in his soft bed while I had the germs of the day on myself.

While I was rinsing myself off, I couldn't help but think of Suna's smell, which was enticing me to think of other things.

My hand slowly started drifting to my lower regions until I heard a knock on the bathroom door that almost made me fall onto my ass.

"I brought you clothes. I thought you must've forgotten to grab some. Suna's voice trailed off, a shower curtain being the only thing that was separating my naked body from him.

"Yeah, thanks, Rin," I stammered, mentally cursing myself. That just made me seem even more suspicious. I can't believe I forgot to grab clothes and that I was about to touch myself in my best friend's shower.

For God's sake.

I wrapped up my shower after the awkward conversation between Rin and me, which definitely made me think about jumping out of his window and running home.

Entering back into his room, it feels a little more intimate. I was wearing his clothes—a dark gray t-shirt with very loose sweatpants, not to mention his boxers.

Deciding that it was time to get over myself, I climbed back into his bed and laid there awkwardly.

"How was your shower? Sorry that my clothes are a bit too big." He gave me a sheepish smile, and for a second, I genuinely couldn't breathe.

"Relaxing. And not to worry, they're soft, so it's fine." I gave him a half smile while turning over to my side of his bed, signaling that I was going to bed.

"Alright. Goodnight, pretty." I heard him say softly, and I couldn't sleep after that.

Maybe an hour had passed by and I was still awake, but this time staring at the ceiling and occasionally at Suna.

I was waiting for the perfect moment to slip out of bed and take these large sweatpants off. If I wake up earlier than him, then I'm sure to be able to slip them back on before he notices.

With the master plan in mind, I carefully executed it by lightly sliding my body out of his bed. Which worked perfectly, thank you to his silk sheets.

I let the cool air enwrap my legs for a moment before sliding back into bed. It was like my own melatonin because, as soon as I got back in, I was asleep.

Little traces of something warm on my hip awoke me. It was so soft and comforting that I pressed myself back into it. I was so warm, and it engulfed me all around.

My eyes snapped open without any other thought.

Rin had me pressed against him, his hand doing the tracing on my hip that I ever so loved.

"Rin? What are you doing?" My voice came out all groggy when I asked him my question. I couldn't see him from the way he had me pressed against his body, but I knew for a fact that he was awake.

The sunlight coming through his window and the small noises of birds chirping outside were a telltale sign for me.

"I just wanted to be close." He said, muffled by my neck. The vibrations sent tingles down my spine at his voice. How crazy that just a single detail like his voice has that kind of reaction on me.

"Rinnie.." I trailed off, using the nickname I gave him when we were kids. That only made him hold me closer, even if that was even possible.

"I can't do this anymore. I want you, pretty. Let me be your boyfriend."

Those few sentences were enough to make my body skyrocket out of bed. I broke away from his grasp and almost fell to the floor from how harsh it was.

"I'm sorry—what?" I knew what he had said; I just needed a minute to process it. His face was tinged with pink that was spread across his cheeks.

The look in his eyes was to die for; it was like he was internally hoping I'd say yes.

I had to look away because I could feel the embarrassment creep up on me from my pantless self and his confession.

"Let's just take it slow." I gave him an answer. We have never discussed anything like this before in our lives, and to just jump into a relationship was not like me at all.

However, Rin knew me. He knew me like the back of his hand, and if I were to date anyone right now, it would definitely be him.

"C'mere. Let me hold you." He motioned for me to come near him, back into the spot where I slept. I hesitantly crawled back over, trying my hardest not to look seductive and failing miserably judging by the look on his face.

"Take however long you need for your brain to catch up. Your body, however, is showing signs already. It's pretty." I couldn't bear to listen to him any longer; my heart would explode.

I buried my head in his chest as a way to calm myself. It kind of worked since I loved his scent.

He reached to my head with his hand and stuck his pointer finger under and his thumb on my chin, bringing my face up close to his.

"I'm going to kiss you." He told me bluntly, his half-lidded eyes focused on mine and my lips. I'm assuming he wanted me to protest his statement or pull away, but I didn't; I couldn't.

I slightly nodded, and I closed my eyes just to feel his soft lips on mine. His hand moved to my cheek, and my head unconsciously leaned into it.

I felt like I was on cloud nine when his teeth gently nipped my lower lip. I'm assuming he wanted into my mouth.

I parted my lips some, and he took full advantage of that; his tongue rolled around in my mouth and played with mine.

Our kiss deepened as he brought me even closer to him, our saliva mixing with each other. I couldn't help but let out a slight moan when he pulled me on top of him.

My hips rolled on their own, which elicited a groan from Rintarō as he bit my lip. I pulled away from him, gasping for air. His eyes full of hunger, he gripped my hips while staring into my eyes.

"We should stop," His breathless voice sounded, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I agree." I wanted to go further, but I wouldn't tell him that. We just started dating, like, ten minutes ago. I was not about to have sex with him, even though I've known him for basically my whole life.

The sexual tension surrounding us suddenly stopped. "I'm making breakfast!" A voice broke out in a sing-song manner.

I quickly got off of him when I realized it was his mom. The embarrassment filled my body because she could have seen me on top of her son.

"I think we should get up." I groaned into my hands, hoping for my red face to go away.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, pretty. We're dating now." I could hear the slyness in his voice as he wrapped his arms around my waist. I shyly nodded at his shoulder before pulling away.

"I'm going to put your sweatpants back on, then I'll be downstairs after using the bathroom." I told him, grabbing the sweats off the ground and hurrying towards the white door of freedom.

My hand got yanked backwards, and I faced my boyfriend and best friend all in one.

"Give me a kiss, pretty. Then you're free to go." He leaned down to my height and swiftly pecked my lips. I stood there, unable to move, as I watched him wink at me, brush a hand through his hair, and open his door to head downstairs.

I rushed back into the bathroom and stood there, staring at myself in the mirror, trying to come to terms with what just happened.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a/n: this is from my book “Haikyuu x Reader One Shots” on Wattpad! I hope you enjoyed and let me know if you have any requests!

the header is made by me, please like/reblog if used <3

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Rose Thorn Blues | p. 1

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: The other Daily Bugle intern has been a thorn in your side all summer. But if you wanted the job, you'd have to work with him. And you'd do anything to get it.

Word count: ~7k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers!! Banter. Criminal activity. Swearing. A bit of angst but not really. J. Jonah Jameson lol.

A/n: I think this'll end up being around 3 parts, but we'll see. This has been tumblin' through my mind since last year, so I'm glad to finally let it out lol. Let me know your thoughts! Thanks for reading <3

You used to enjoy the clear sky on a sunny day, the vibrating blue that stretched until it curved around the horizon. Used to love the way the lapping waves of the Atlantic shimmered for miles, its ripples echoing the sky’s image. The blue of the world before the sun came up, or the indigo quiet of a rainy day.

You even used to love how red the rusted bricks outlining your apartment building looked, tracing the tips of your fingers along them as you walked by, scarlet pebbles breaking off into your palm. The cherry glow of a late-night diner’s “Open” sign made the beats of your heart stutter, its lights reflecting off the glass and illuminating puddles littering the sidewalk. Even with the occasional rose you passed on your way to work, the red petals surrounded by thorns and overgrown weeds, you still leaned your nose in to smell its sweet crimson scent. 

But that was before your internship at The Daily Bugle, before you had to write countless stories on Spider-Man all the time, and before you knew Peter, the other intern. Now, every cloudless day or trip to the ocean, hell, even the plump blueberries in the grocery store or a swirling glass of Merlot, an obnoxious red stoplight, or the tiniest cut exposing a drop of blood turned your stomach. You knew people could change you, but you’d never expected to hate the shades of red and blue — until you stared at it every day while standing in Parker’s shadow.

You’d shake your head, shove your fingernails into your palm, blink so hard your vision turned bright just to erase those colors from your mind and him from your thoughts. But you would have no such luck as you weaved your way through New York’s sidewalks under the summer sun, a barely-there breeze passing alongside the traffic. Your hand clutched your phone tight in its grasp.

On it held a photo of Spider-Man you’d just taken earlier that morning. He stopped a robbery, and you captured the moment he’d ripped off a car door to use as cover — a story that J. Jonah Jameson would love to spin into something ridiculous. You had nothing against the superhero, but it was what your boss wanted. The boss that would decide which intern would receive a full-time position at the end of the summer, and you wouldn’t go down without a fight against Parker.

He always had clearer photos and more information on Spider-Man — always seemed to get on the scene before you. You wouldn’t have been that upset if Parker actually was a better reporter than you, but that smug, chronically late asshole certainly wasn’t better than you. Not when you worked twice as hard just to watch him successfully stumble his way through this internship. 

And that stupid shrug he gave you when Jameson chose his story over yours! He’d mutter, “Better luck next time,” as if you weren’t covering for his ass half the time. You weren’t sure why you did it anymore. Maybe you didn’t want to watch him get fired since this wasn’t an easy opportunity to get, but you definitely wouldn’t mind sitting back and enjoying him get chewed out by Jameson.

But that was unimportant now as you made your way into The Daily Bugle’s building, savoring the air conditioning as your breath tumbled from your mouth. This picture and the eyewitness statements you took would create a story Jameson wouldn’t think twice about choosing, especially when Parker always came in late in the mornings.

Walking through your floor’s doors, photo pulled up on your phone, you quickly dropped your bag at your desk before making your way to pitch the idea to Jameson. You’d mentally written the first half of it on your walk here already.

Your steps faltered though as you neared the office, hearing your boss’s voice echoing through the office.

“Good work, Parker. Finish it by noon, and we’ll publish it today.”

He was already here? Silently, you gritted your teeth, peering into the room. And of course, out walked Parker, one hand holding papers and the other shoved in his pocket.

“The one day you’re on time… I can’t believe this,” you quietly muttered, feeling a weight sink into your stomach. His shoulders hung casually while yours raised up and down with your breaths. His half-smile made you stare daggers into him.

He just raised an eyebrow at you. “Good morning to you too, sunshine. Most people happen to love my presence.”

You silently ignored his nickname for you as you said, “Then most people must be lying to you. What story did you give him?” You pointed your head toward the office, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“So you can go in and try to one-up me?” He scoffed, his eyes annoyingly bright and warm. “No thanks.”

As he made to walk away, you grabbed his arm despite your aversion to being near him. Even the heat of his skin made you too warm, just another reason to stay away from Parker. “I lied to Jameson last week while you were off doing who-knows-what when you should’ve been working. Now what was the goddamn story?”

The sound of other employees talking and making coffee filled the background. If you could just beat him, you’d be part of them one day. So you didn’t let up, waiting for him to answer as he looked between your hand and your eyes. He shook off your touch after a moment.

You watched his jaw tick, his eyes roll to the back of his empty head. “Fine. And because I don’t think I could handle the second-hand embarrassment. I’ll tell you that if your story’s about whatever Spider-Man was up to this morning, you might want to skip telling Jameson.”

The grip on your phone loosened a bit, along with the hope you’d put into this — into trying to prove that you were a good reporter too. But, of course, you were always stuck finding stories on Spider-Man, and too late with them anyway. Anything else wasn’t important news, not at this company.

You tried, and failed, to keep your frustration from your voice as you asked, “And how did you get here before me with that story? You’re literally never here on time and just always have some bullshit idea that’s barely a story.”

Parker just gave a short laugh, smirking at you. “And yet… I still beat you. Kinda stings, huh?”

You gave a grumbled “Piss off” before letting him walk past you this time. You filled up your water bottle, headed to the bathroom, made small talk with some woman you’d immediately forgotten the name of — all distractions so you didn’t have to go back to the desk that sat much too close to Parker, especially while he worked on the story that should’ve been yours.

When you finally returned, you refused to look at a particular person across from you — the two intern desks only separated by a half wall. You just fished out your headphones at the cheap desk with no air conditioning under the city’s hot summer.  

A much-needed break from Spider-Man you gave to yourself, you continued working on a story you started researching last week. You’d gathered some statements and data about new unsafe water conditions in certain parts of the city. The story wouldn’t star on the front page of the website, or even the second. Third, if you were lucky.

The morning passed with minimal shouting coming from Jameson’s office and just a few “friendly” follow-up emails with sources you hadn’t heard back from. In the brief moments of silence between the end of one song and the beginning of another, you listened to traffic flowing through the streets below and the droning sounds of keyboards and the printer.

Only once you finished up the first draft of your article and turned to grab your notebook from a drawer did you notice a sticky note plastered on the edge of your desk. In messy handwriting, it said, “You type like a child bangs their fists on a piano” followed by a doodle of the sun, with sunglasses.

It wasn’t difficult to tell whose horrible scribbling this was. So after writing “Eat shit <3” on the back, you crumpled it up. You tossed it right at Parker’s face as you stood up, going to a meeting with one of the full-time writers here. Instead of knowing he caught it like always, you pretended it hit him right in the eye and gave him a papercut.

You didn’t look back as you approached Alice’s desk, the lead writer of the office. Her black curls bounced as she lifted her head, smiling at you. “Ready?”

“Yes, and thank you again for meeting with me,” you said, nodding with your notebook under your arm. She stood up, motioning you toward an empty office for the informational interview — mostly just asking her about her career in hopes it could help yours.

Sitting across from one another, you took notes as she spoke about herself and answered your many questions. Your writing filled one page after another, your wrist becoming sore but ignored under the weight of knowing this information could be important. When you asked what advice she would give to someone just starting out as a reporter, the silence that followed made you finally lift your head.

Alice looked at you with a soft smile while your pen stalled. “I would tell them that it’s not an easy career. And that it’s not for those without passion. You have to want this — and show it. The stories out there you want to tell… you can’t be afraid to search out the truth. ‘Leaving well enough alone’ has never been in my vocabulary.”

Your unfocused stare stayed on her while you processed those words… and the worry that you weren’t cut out for this work. There were stories you wanted to tell, but you couldn’t find the place to tell them. A cynical part of your mind shouted that maybe Parker did deserve the job at the end of this internship more than you.

The thoughts must have been evident on your face because Alice spoke again, her voice calm but stern. “Don’t worry. I see the passion in you. The best advice is to not let Jameson or anyone else stop you. ‘Kay?”

You nodded, unable to stop the smile on your face. So caught up in her words, you wrote down a condensed version of her answer: Follow your heart. Your thumb rubbed over the dried ink of the page, feeling the ridges of each letter. “Thank you, Alice. I’ll keep trying,” you said, and meant it. 

She let out a light laugh, the sound loosening the tight muscles in your shoulders. “You better. I’ve been rooting for you to get the job,” she whispered, giving a wink that had you laughing too.

“Well I can’t let you down then, can I?” Letting your smile fall just a little, the curve of it no longer touching your eyes, you silently hoped that you wouldn’t disappoint her. Thanking Alice again, you made your way back to your desk with too many thoughts running through your head.

Slow moments passed as you returned to your chair, the cheap thing squeaking underneath you with each movement. Still, you closed your eyes for a second, just feeling the cushion beneath you, the armrests under your hands, the backrest keeping you from collapsing. A breath filled your lungs, chest rising inch by inch. You would not wait for anyone’s permission to change the world — even if that just meant ignoring your lying thoughts to change your own little world.

Slowly, you went back through your notes, adding bits here and there that you missed while Alice had spoken. At the bottom, you just underlined her final advice… letting the words bleed into your body as you promised to keep them at the center of your stories.

It kept you focused on your article surrounding unsafe water quality in the city. Thankfully, the hours passed quickly, and you got the article up on the site by the end of the day. All with minimal interruptions from Parker — despite another sticky note that said “Thanks for the granola bar ;)” on it. And sure enough, the granola bar you had on your desk was no longer there, but you silently tossed the note in the garbage without letting him know he got to you.

Though, with no snack, your stomach was definitely grumbling as you packed up. So you made the trek to a cafe with your backpack on, one headphone in, and a middle finger aimed toward Parker when he tried talking to you, a smirk plastered on his face that told you he had nothing important or nice to say.

The summer heat hit you as you exited the building, making you strip off your office-appropriate blazer. Still, you didn’t mind the sunlight after spending all day inside. Your music drifted into your ear, the beat of it matching your steps. You turned the volume down once making it into the bakery with the best after-work treat, the pink sign outside painted with cursive words: “Pat’s Pastries.”

Baked bread and sweet chocolate filled your nose, the smell helping you forget about work for a minute. You ordered your favorite cookie, pointing to the biggest one behind the glass. Silently, you ignored the whole tray of Spider-Man themed cookies they’d begun selling after the superhero saved the store from a robbery.

Instead, you just left the shop with a bite of the cookie already in your mouth. It practically melted on your tongue, tasting better than any granola bar Parker could steal from you. The cookie lasted you all the way home, filling you with a pleasant warmth.

In your apartment, you stood in the entryway for a moment. With slow movements, you removed your shoes, setting down all of your things. You’d only been collapsed on your couch for a few minutes before your phone vibrated. Part of you thought to ignore it and let the weight of your heavy eyelids drag you into a nap, but you knew it could be work. A groan came from your throat as you saw that it was work — a comment left on your article already.

People that commented on these pieces often had few nice things to say, so you braced yourself upon opening the site. Your thumb slid across the screen until you reached the bottom. Left by some guest user, the comment simply read: “What’s new? Beaumont fumbles again…”

Beaumont. Ellis Beaumont, the current city manager. He’d certainly faced as much backlash as any other official since he’d taken over five years ago, but you hadn’t considered him all that much when researching for this article. Did he have to do with poor water conditions in the city?

Before you could stop yourself, your hands went to your laptop. Your fingers typed across the keyboard, searching for relations between him and other issues the city faced recently. What came up most often was Beaumont’s press releases after most of them. His salt and pepper hair sat tightly cut to his head, no specks of dust visible on his expensive-looking suits. In each one, he stated how he and his team would work on fixing the problem — from unaffordable housing to upgrading technology throughout the city.

It wasn’t new to see a leader promise to do something and not follow through, but something kept sticking with you while you researched. At some point, between the sun falling behind the city skyline and ordering takeout to be delivered, you found yourself with dozens of open tabs and tired eyes.

Raking a hand down your face, you let out a long sigh. You finished reading another speech where he promised to fix something, crumbling infrastructure this time — “if only we had the funds!” And cue the part where he asked for donations to his nonprofit organization or proposed a government plan that would cost the citizens in tax money. Yet… hadn’t he raised the money? The last you’d checked, the street he’d mentioned repairing still had its potholes and unusable sidewalks.

A knocking on your door brought you to it, your eyes never leaving your computer screen. You just grabbed your food and paid the deliverer with a mumbled “thanks” before walking back to the laptop.

As quickly as you could, you yanked out your notebook from your bag and wrote down everything about Ellis Beaumont — before your food got cold. Your wrist ached again as you flipped the page, continuing to fill the lines with his career, his promises, and his letdowns.

Each of his projects toward bettering the city came with asking for money — money that didn’t show back up in the work. He’d made no updates as to how much he had raised or how he was going to use it. At the end of your notes, you wrote down in heavy ink: “Where is Ellis Beaumont’s money going??”

And even as you ate, trying to watch the comfort show you’d put on, your mind kept working in the background. Had others not also wondered this? Or if they had, did he have them in his pocket already? Sleep fought you that night, making you toss and turn in bed. But you had a story.

–

Walking into The Daily Bugle, you ‘clocked in’ (let Jameson see you in the office) and dropped off your bag. With just your notes, a pen, and a granola bar so no one would steal it, you made your way back out of the building.

Right before you made it from the office, though, a mop of dark hair appeared at the door. A small part of you wanted to somehow hide, the other part unable to resist the draw of him for whatever reason. But Parker chose for you, his eyes lighting up when they caught on your form. Your following scowl was enough to make him laugh.

“There she is, our lovely sunshine,” he said, leaning against the door frame. You ignored the sarcasm dripping through his words.

Instead, you raised your eyebrows and told him, “If Jameson asks, I’m out researching a story. Got it?” 

“Woah, woah, woah.” Parker pushed off the frame. His smirk was enough to set you off, but then he held out a hand to block you from passing. Behind your unyielding glare, you secretly hoped he tripped over his untied shoelaces or smashed his hand in the office printer. As he came closer to you, he asked, “Where are you off to? I haven’t seen any sightings of Spider-Man.”

“That’s a shame,” you said, uninterested. Grabbing his forearm, accidentally feeling the hard muscle underneath, you moved it out of your way. “Have fun getting him coffee!” You shouted it over your shoulder, leaving him standing there while you ignored the heat on your palm from touching his skin. 

You shook your hand out, waving away the memory as you took the subway over to City Hall. It had to be as good as any place to start researching where the city’s money went after Ellis Beaumont flashed a white smile and pocketed it. He probably wouldn’t talk with you, but anything to get you closer would be worth it.

Emerging from the subway station, your eyes squinted against the brightness. Still morning, the heat hadn’t settled in yet — just leaving you with a sunny walk and a nice breeze.

The building’s intimidating size rose high toward the sky. A statue of justice, a woman holding scales and a sword, stood atop City Hall — staring down at each person as you entered the front doors. The ornate architecture and grand staircase inside didn’t help settle the daunting feeling crawling in your stomach.

Still, you walked up to the man sitting behind the front desk there, trying to look as friendly as possible. Smoothing out your outfit and putting a smile on, you said, “Hi.”

He looked up with a classic customer service grin to greet you. “Hello, how can I help you?” he asked, leaning toward you slightly.

You kept your shoulders back, mustering some sort of confidence in your investigation. How would Alice do this?

With a clear voice, you directly asked, “If I was looking for records of donations for a government-related nonprofit, would they be here? I couldn’t seem to find them online.” You gave him an unassuming look.

“Typically, but what nonprofit were you looking at?” he asked, typing something into his computer. You took out your notebook low enough that he couldn’t see past the desk.

Pretending to rack your brain for the name, you said, “I think it’s called Stronger Together. I love being able to see where my donation goes — it helps make me feel closer to the community, you know?”

Your hand ready to write fell limp when his mouth pressed tight, his eyes leaving the screen to meet yours. “Ah,” he said, “Well Mr. Beaumont is not always able to update that information, as he has many responsibilities to maintain.”

“Of course, I understand. Though, I also noticed that the recent infrastructure project has yet to be enacted. Is there an update on that?” You willed your voice to stay steady, to be unwavering under the impatient gaze of this man.

A muscle seemed to twitch in his jaw. “I don’t believe the organization has given one, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been working on it. He is a very busy man.”

“Busy enough that I wouldn’t be able to speak with him directly?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said, shaking his head, but he didn’t seem too sorry at all. “We could take your number for him to call you when he’s available, but…”

“He’s very busy,” you finished, giving a smile as you bit back a pained sigh. “That’ll be okay, I’m happy to have helped the cause.”

“Yes, and we’re very thankful for your donation.” The tight grin he gave looked like it hurt his cheeks to make.

“Well, thank you for the information,” you said. Just as you were about to leave, beginning to leave with nothing to show for the story, you turned back. “I know this is quite specific, but would you know what Mr. Beaumont’s next project is?”

Another flicker of impatience flashed across the man’s face, his hands clasping together. “No, I wouldn’t, but I’m sure it will be a great help to the city whatever it is. I think there may be a nonprofit fundraiser this weekend… but those are typically closed events — for investors and friends,” he said, his smile turning less warm by the minute. “You can donate online anytime.”

“Great, thank you,” you muttered before turning around, frantically jotting the little information you received down in your notes while walking away. You swore you could feel the man’s eyes on you until you slipped out the doors. 

The entire ride back to the office, this story ate away at you. Everyone seemed to be keeping information on Beaumont’s money close to their chests, even about what his supposed nonprofit was really doing.

‘Stronger Together.’ You rolled your eyes, beginning to feel like he was the only one getting stronger. And he was having another fundraiser so soon? Probably for something like conservation this time — his team would likely make a whole show of planting a couple trees and get praised for it. 

As soon as you got back to The Daily Bugle, you ignored everything as you dropped into your chair and opened your computer. Your fingers flew over the keyboard to type up the notes, both for decoding your scribbled words and ensuring you kept the information in multiple places. You tried tuning out the background chatter and the gnawing worry that this whole story would lead to a dead end, but you couldn’t ignore everything…

“Whatcha typin’ there?” Parker said as he swiveled his chair around the desks to look at you. Glancing for a moment at him, you saw the shit-eating smile pointed your way.

Your face flashed a fake grin. “Your resignation letter, Parker.” You continued typing, not responding to his quiet scoff. But then he stood up, his steps gentle against the floor. He towered over you as he came around to look at your screen.

Before he could even reach your desk, you switched tabs to a blank page. Without glancing up at him, you silently waited for him to stop watching you. It worked well enough at first, your mind happily turning blank instead of entertaining him. 

But he put his hand on the edge of your desk, his body now much too close to yours. The warm scent of him washing over you had your skin prickling, your fingernails pressing into your palm.

Barely heard above the blood rushing past your ears, his voice came out quieter than you’d expected. “So secretive. You won’t even share with me?”

Ignoring the glint of smugness on his face, you turned to look up at him. “So you can try to one-up me? No thanks,” you repeated, using his words from yesterday. 

“But given my track record for front-page stories, I’m sure you could definitely use my help.” Parker shoved a hand in his pocket, winking at you with those stupid dark eyes. In that moment, you wondered whether you could somehow frame him for helping Spider-Man and get Jameson to tackle him. 

So caught up in that happy fantasy, you didn’t catch Parker’s other hand creeping across the desk until he’d already snatched your notebook. And before you could even stand to grab it back, his leg came up and pushed on one of your desk chair’s armrests, sending it spinning.

While your legs tried stopping the chair, you heard him say, “How are you even able to read this? Okay, I won’t tell Jameson, but you’ve gotta be honest with me: do you know how to write? Or read, for that matter.”

“I was walking while taking notes– whatever, Parker. I don’t need to explain myself to your dumbass,” you whisper yelled at him, stalking over to his side of the desks. But he moved the notebook away, cocking his head to the side.

With a grin that told you just how much fun he was having, he said, “Huh, I didn’t know your pretty little head knew how to multi-task.”

You opened your mouth for a second, processing that he called you pretty, before rolling your eyes. “Must be hard to imagine anything with your smooth brain. Now give me my notebook back.” 

In the background, you heard Jameson screaming to some poor soul on the phone. You hoped it at least covered up your bickering with Parker. But it wouldn’t be able to drown out the sound of you strangling him, which you were now seriously considering as he held up a finger to you. 

In a calmer voice, he asked, “Are you really doing a piece on Ellis Beaumont?”

Scoffing, you reached over and grabbed your notebook from his grasp. He didn’t seem to put up much of a fight, hopefully mentally perceiving the threats running through your mind. As you returned to your desk, you glanced once more at him — and got caught on something in the look he gave you.

“Yes,” you told him before sitting down, leaving Parker and any distractions on that side of the half-wall. The last thing you heard was a sigh before you put your headphones in.

For the rest of the day, you finished writing up your notes and your other assigned work. In between projects, you secretly continued researching everything you could about Beaumont and where those donations went. Site after site returned empty, most of them just filled with propaganda for his non-profit.

With weary eyes and a fuzzy mind, you finally found something as everyone in the office began to finish up. You wiped a hand down your face, a weight lifting from your shoulders when you discovered an address.

Searching through countless websites, some of which you probably shouldn’t have been using your work computer for, you combed through records of donations to Stronger Together. Most listed City Hall or Beaumont’s address in their donation. But one other address continued popping up more than a few times — somewhere in upper Manhattan, far from where the organization would operate from.

If you were listening to Alice’s advice to follow your heart, you would’ve stayed home. Your pounding pulse yelled at you that going to check out this address after sunset was the worst idea you’d ever had.

On your walk home and all through dinner, you pushed back against the trickling fear down your spine — caused by the ice-cold voice in the corners of your mind filled with every worst-case scenario. It only grew louder as you neared the address. 

You hadn’t done much field work before, or any that hadn’t just involved taking blurry pictures of Spider-Man and making New Yorkers talk to you. As you walked along the sidewalk with your shoes tapping against the cracked concrete, following the directions on your phone, you wondered whether you were cut out for this. You kept your head on a swivel and senses alert, but did you have any clue what you were going to do once you reached the building? No, not really.

You had come after dark, so breaking in certainly didn’t seem out of the question. And as much as you disliked thinking about him, knowing that Parker wouldn’t back away from this if he were here kept your legs moving. 

Before long, with a warm breeze at your back, you came up to a large warehouse. It sat in a pretty empty area — one with few people around that you could see. A few street lamps illuminated the space around it, the light stretching down a small alleyway next to the building. Craning your neck, you began walking down it, seeing whether you could peer in anywhere.

Your fingers brushed along the building’s side as you passed by several dark windows. Unable to spot anything through them, you crept toward the back. No workers, or anyone really, seemed to be there. Nothing except for a metal fire escape. It seemed to lead up to a door with more windows lining either side. Fluorescent lighting shone from inside. 

Swallowing hard, you forced your body to walk toward it. Each step you took up went slowly, trying to keep your feet silent as you climbed the stairs. Under the weight of the stars and night sky, even with the sounds of traffic passing by, each breath felt too loud.

Silently wishing to anyone that’d listen, you hoped no one stood on the other side as you slowly looked in. But you only found boxes — not all that surprising, but disappointment mingled with the relief coursing through your muscles. 

Hundreds of boxes sat throughout the warehouse, lining countless shelves. You made a guess that they probably weren’t storing any tools for fixing the infrastructure like Beaumont promised. But you wouldn’t be able to find out what they held without breaking in, something you didn’t think your nerves could take.

Though… someone else could show you what’s inside. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw a brief movement along the floor of the building. Someone moved into view, dressed in a black uniform and holding a clipboard in their hands. They walked to a shelf you could just barely see and opened up one of the boxes. They set the clipboard aside to pull out something… long and metal. At the end appeared to be a claw of some sort–

Internally, you winced, instantly able to recognize it from all your articles. It was one of Doc Ock’s arms. The other side was full of fraying wires, no doubt ripped apart from a fight with Spider-Man. God, why did everything always have to come back to Spider-Man? 

And, in that moment, you must’ve pissed off some god of fate to deserve this irony. As you were about to pull out your phone to capture the evidence, your thought alone summoned the man. A web attached to the worker, the other end coming from the red and blue superhero crouched on a support beam. Within a second, he pulled them up to the ceiling and cocooned them in webbing to dangle there — the scene forcing an involuntary gasp escape your lips.

Spider-Man had jumped down with supernatural grace and looked like he was going to investigate the box further, but whipped his head toward you at your gasp. Your heart crawled into your throat, your hand snapping up to cover your mouth.

Racing down the fire escape, your scrambled thoughts tumbling around your head, you hurried back to the street away from what you’d witnessed. But before you could leave the alleyway, a flash of those dreaded shades of red and blue dropped down in front of you — your feet stumbling backward as you barely kept a startled scream from coming out.

“Hey, hey. Not here to hurt you. I do the opposite actually,” Spider-Man said, his hands up to show you he meant no harm. His voice sounded unnaturally deep, but blood rushed past your ears, clouding your senses. You shook your head slightly, trying to focus on getting out of there.

“But uh…” he continued, cautiously taking a single step closer, “I don’t think you live at this address. Is that right?”

You absentmindedly chewed on the inside of your cheek, debating on how much to tell him. He’d caught you sneaking around, but was that technically even a crime? Most likely. But clearly, you both were after some pretty similar things. So, while nodding your head toward the warehouse, you quietly asked, “What’s in there?”

His head tilted to the side as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Some no-no things. Which is probably why I should handle it, right?”

“Handle it how? By handing it over to the police?” you asked, a small jolt of panic rising in your chest. “What if it connects to something larger?” Your questions assumed that he didn’t exactly know where this warehouse came from and how it connected to Beaumont, but maybe not. Still, you couldn’t risk cutting this whole thing off early and breaking the investigation apart… and the story.

“Does it connect to something larger?” he asked, his gaze never seeming to leave you. You couldn’t tell much behind his mask, but the weight of those white eyes stayed focused on your face. They watched every microexpression crossing your face, despite the urge to hide from them.

Knowing you needed him on your side, or at least to not cover you in webs, you gave him a little more. Nodding, you said “Yeah, I think it does. I’m not sure how it all fits, but…”

“But?”

Pursing your lips, you let a breath pass before answering him. Jameson would kill you if he knew you were having this whole conversation without taking ‘photographic evidence’ and helping out Spider-Man. But that man was a prick anyway.

Letting out a long sigh, you said, “Check out Ellis Beaumont’s non-profit. I don’t think the donations are going where he says they are.”

He just cocked his head, but you moved around him, ready to leave this place and those watchful eyes. Your gaze avoided his as he let you pass toward the street, though he yelled out, “Do you need me to walk you home?” You just waved him off, your pace picking up. Still, he shouted a “Thank you!” for the information as you made the journey back to your apartment.

Unable to calm your body back to normal just yet, you found yourself jumping at every noise around you until your apartment door locked behind you. What you’d seen ran through your head again and again. 

What did Beaumont want with Spider-Man? Or was he working with the villains to get rid of Spider-Man? His money couldn’t just be going toward costume dress-up storage, but breaking into that warehouse alone was out of the question for you. Leave it to the superhero rather than risk your neck.

Your brain racked itself for answers, working to figure out what interest Spider-Man had in showing up at that warehouse anyway. Even into the next morning, these thoughts plagued your mind. It left you in a haze as you entered The Daily Bugle — the noise of the coffee machine and Jameson’s muffled yelling more distracting than usual.

Even more offputting was that sat at your desks was Parker, the second time he’d ever beaten you into the office. Immediately, his eyes found yours, but you didn’t have the energy to give him a sneer or a smart-ass comment. You just started up your computer, planning to type up your notes again. Your hand rubbed down your face as you waited for it to turn on, already anticipating the inevitable interruption.

Sure enough, Parker stuck his head over the half-wall, leaning his forearms along the top of it. His chin rested on them as he said, “You look rough.”

Without raising your eyes to him, you let out a long sigh. “Wow… Thanks,” you said, letting an unimpressed look take over your face. You opened your notebook, turning to the pages where you wrote every piece of information you could remember after the events last night.

Parker raised his hands up in surrender, as if he hadn’t insulted your appearance. “Jus’ saying, you seem a bit stressed. Need any help, sunshine?”

At that, you finally raised your gaze to meet his — his ruffled hair dipping over his forehead while waiting for your response. 

You squinted your eyes at him, your eyebrows furrowing at his words. “...I’m not letting you take this story from me, Parker.”

“Hey, I could merely co-author this story with you,” he offered with that smirk of his. “And I’m sick of writing about Spider-Man’s favorite restaurants to order from. C’mon.” He dragged out the word, practically begging you.

Crossing your arms across your chest, you considered him for a moment and his offer. His mouth tightened, drawing your gaze down to his lips and the sharpness of his jaw. Not the time.

“You really want to help me?” When he nodded, you still didn’t believe him. With a scoff, you asked, “Are you going soft on me?”

A sharp laugh escaped his mouth. “Don’t get used to it. This would cost you a week’s worth of granola bars.”

“Aren’t you the one asking to join?” you questioned with a smile you couldn’t hide. When he didn’t budge despite his ridiculous demand, you just muttered, “I’ll think about it.”

The long groan he gave as he sat back down told you how he felt about your answer, but it was easier to ignore now that he wasn’t staring at you. Why he was so interested in this story made no sense to you — not that you thought about it long as you finally typed up your notes. 

Instead, you tried to figure out where to go next, where this warehouse might lead you. But a growing fear told you that it wouldn’t lead anywhere, your research online not giving you someone to question or even contact information for Beaumont. This politician seemed to keep things annoyingly tight under wraps. 

As minutes slipped away while you ran into dead end after dead end in your searching, you internally debated whether to accept Parker’s help. Waves crashed in your stomach, the tide receding far away as if in anticipation of a tsunami — one threatening to destroy you. Letting him in meant risking your story, and risking the chance that he could get all the credit for your work.

As much as you hated the idea of sharing this with him, part of you thought you might’ve been in over your head. Especially after the run-in last night. And Parker certainly knew his stuff… sometimes. Not that you’d tell him that.

It was only once your search about Beaumont and that warehouse frustratingly turned up blank once more that you let out a sigh. It seemed it’d be a story with him or no story at all.

“Parker?” you called across the desks. 

The sound of his chair shifting joined his raspy, “Yeah?” You bit back a grin as you realized you’d woken him up from one of his frequent work naps. When he swiveled into view, the red spot on his cheek from where he must’ve laid it on his arms confirmed your suspicions. 

Still, you had to clear your tight throat before telling him, “You can help. But only if my name goes first, got it?” Before he could respond, you followed with, “And I take the lead on things, okay?” Your stare pierced his eyes, silently begging him to not take this from you.

The small laugh he gave loosened your tense shoulders just a bit, made your fists unclench. “Whatever you say goes…” he said, nodding with the most honest look you’d seen from him. “With some exceptions though. Cause you have a lot of bad ideas I’d like to veto.”

You wondered whether asking for Peter Parker’s help was one of those terrible, idiotic ideas. You hoped not.

@reidslovely

[indigofyrebird]

Gifts

For the @summer-of-bad-batch prompt "It's not what you think".

816 words

Crosshair collects orchids now that he's old. And this is all of the prompts for the @summer-of-bad-batch!

***

Crosshair ran his finger delicately over the striped petals, reciting the name under his breath. "Cymbidium dayanum." He had just been reading about this type of tree orchid in his book.

The orchid show was busy, islanders had come from upper and lower Pabu to see what the traveling experts had brought. Crosshair had slipped out of the house early, undetected by his housemate. 

He walked through the aisles of orchids, eyes feasting on the colors, the delicate beauty, the exotic forms of the flowers that he had only ever seen in his book. Their island had exotic flowers, to be sure, but he had become fascinated with orchids after seeing one a neighbor had been given as a gift from off planet. 

He knew he was going to come home with one, but there were so many to choose from. The greenhouse that hosted the show was hot and humid, a soft green smell filling the air. Crosshair carefully looked at each aisle, each row as the day grew warm.

The little yellow sprays of Oncidium sphacelatum caught his eye, and he picked a tiny variety, the flowers no bigger than a small pebble. Each flower looked like a dancer in an ochre colored dress, and the miniscule plant hung heavy with blooms.

It was small enough that he kept it hidden in the crook of his arm as he brought it to his room. Crosshair carefully placed it in its new home, his bright and sunny window. 

He wasn't sure why he kept it from Hunter. Would he accuse him of going soft? He read his orchid book in private, memorizing species names, care.

Daily, he misted his orchid. He talked to it, turning it so every part received sunlight. He collected rainwater for it. His now old and wrinkled hand cared for it like it used to care for a rifle. 

One day, a new orchid appeared in his window and Crosshair rushed to examine it. "Phalaenopsis aphrodite," he said aloud, wondering. One of the white moth orchids. He held it up, admiring the way the light reflected off the iridescent petals. 

"You like it?" Hunter said from the doorway. 

Crosshair turned, his eyes wide with surprise. "You bought me an orchid?" Apparently, he hadn't kept his obsession as secret as he'd thought. 

"I saw it at market and thought you'd like it." Hunter smiled, knowing his gift had been well received. 

"Thank you, Hunter..." Crosshair turned back to his new plant. He carefully pulled a dead leaf from underneath, set the pot down, turned it one direction, then the other. Hunter left him to be alone with his orchids. 

***

Crosshair stood in front of his mirror, trimming his beard, silver-white, neatly groomed. He had watched Hunter grow his and thought it gave him a wise, softened appearance. He quite liked the look on his brother and decided to try one for himself. He liked how it hid the wrinkles at the corners of his mouth. He squinted at himself. Nothing was going to hide the lines at the outside edges of his eyes, and he snorted at his reflection. 

He knew Omega didn't care, but he wished for a second that he was young again. He imagined seeing himself through her eyes, and he cringed. He didn't want to appear old to her, weak.

She was coming to see them. 

He went with Hunter to meet her at the landing pad. She brought her things to their home, unpacked. Hugs and news were exchanged, and then Omega went back to her ship to retrieve gifts. She loved to bring them things. Once, it had been water guns, and they had played on the beach together until dark. Now that Wrecker was gone, it didn't feel quite as joyous. 

Omega gave Hunter a beautifully hand carved knife, and he held it reverantly, spun it several times. 

Crosshair's gift was wrapped loosely in paper. He carefully tore it away to reveal an orchid. The color was deep purple accented with the darkest olive green, and he almost gasped. 

"Hunter told me you liked them," Omega said, her voice almost shy.

"Paphiopedilum vexillarium..." he said in wonder. He had never seen such a beautiful thing. Had he ever felt this way about a new weapon? He couldn't recall. 

"It's not what you think. See the difference here in the leaves? It's a violascens. I only know because the man I picked it up from told me all about them. It's very rare..." Omega smiled watching him. Crosshair hummed in approval. 

He held the lady slipper orchid up to the window to catch all the color variations in the petals. Hunter grinned at Omega, the two watching Crosshair, who was beyond enthralled. 

"Glad you like it, little brother," she said, moving to his side to examine the orchid with him. Crosshair smiled at her, and his eyes sparkled.

[nightynightghoul]

Pebble has POTS

How Pebble finds out they have POTS and sort of learn to accept it.

This is just a little something I wanted to share, if it does well I may share other ideas. Thank you to @sister-nyx for encouraging me and giving it a read :)

Warnings: Pebble faints, there's talk about medical tests, not much more.

When Pebble was summoned, the rest of the ghouls thought nothing special of it. Yes, they were smaller than the rest, but their summoning had been hard and not as much energy went into it as it did for the past ghouls. They all had seen ghouls of all sizes during their lives back in hell. Many of the smaller ones being doubly as fierce to compensate for their size. No one thought anything could be wrong with them. 

Neither did Pebble. At least not for their first few months topside. They learned what they had to in order to become their new drummer, they were good at it too. Enjoying the feeling of getting lost in the music alongside the rest of their new pack.

Pebble started noticing they weren’t like the rest of the ghouls. Not as strong, not as agile, not as resilient. The first time they felt it was when they were moving instruments around the practice room. They had to clear the floor for the siblings to come in for a deep clean. Ifrit had easily lifted and carried stands, amps, boxes, and instruments. Aether had no trouble helping Zephyr with their Keyboard. Hell, even Dewdrop was helping haul up equipment, and he was smaller than them!

But here they were struggling to catch their breath and feeling their heart in their throat just because they were trying to drag one box across the stage. Emphasis on the word “trying”. By the time Ifrit was done, Pebble was only just getting the damned box to where they were supposed to stack it with the others. The fire ghoul just smiled at them and lifted the box to stack in on the others. 

Pebble could not catch their breath and their vision was spotty. But they just ignored it, muttered a thank you and went back to the den. 

The second time, was stupid if you asked them. It was a very early and cold morning, they just wanted to have a nice hot shower before breakfast. Yes, they took longer than usual. The water felt great, they had to wash their hair, and maybe they wanted some time for themselves. The problem appeared when they stepped out into the colder air of the bathroom. As they were drying off, they started feeling like they ran a marathon. Heart beating quickly, spotty vision, and they couldn’t catch their breath. Nothing new, but it was getting worse. 

A splitting headache started right behind their ears and their vision became tunnelled. Suddenly the effort to just stand was just too much and against their will they crumpled to the floor half conscious, dragging with them several items from the counter that clattered loudly on the floor and on top of them. They spent a few minutes on the floor, floating in that space between. After getting ready, only Aether asked why they took so long. Even years later, they could not tell if they fainted that time or not. 

The third time was when they started to get worried. It was a sunny, warm day, fairly humid too. Most of the ghouls were spending their time outside. Even Zephyr felt well enough to go on a little stroll with Dew. They were sat on the grass with Omega and Alpha. Playful chatter, became playful banter which in a few minutes became playfighting. Pebble wrestled Alpha but was quickly pinned under the bigger ghoul. 

But Pebble wasn’t laughing any more, the heat, the humidity, the exertion and now Alpha on top of them had their vision swimming. Just like before they felt that headache, the tunneled vision and the breathlessness. But this time it all came so quick, they had no time to tell Alpha that they wanted out. With a pathetic whine they breathed out and then everything became black. 

When they next opened their eyes, they were laying on their back. Omega was looking at them alarmed, as if they had grown a second head. Alpha was agitated too, the usually stoic ghoul looked close to tears. Omega insisted on carrying them to the infirmary even as Pebble protested that they were fine and could walk themselves.

While in there, Omega took his sweet time noting their blood pressure and heartbeat. Pebble insisted time and time again that this was normal, that it just had gone a little further than it usually does. Omega made quite a few notes and kept asking more questions. As if every ghoul didn’t feel the same as them. -

Do you have a hard time breathing?

Do you usually struggle to catch your breath after exerting yourself?

Are high temperatures usually a problem?

Do you get dizzy when you sit up? When you stand up?

Pebble quickly became frustrated and ended up leaving the infirmary before Omega could finish his long list of questions or tell them much of anything really.

The quint did ask them to come back for some tests the next day but Pebble in their eternal stubbornness didn’t go. They were fine, and this was normal for all ghouls. Right?

The subject was forgotten with time but right now, this very minute. They kinda wish they had gone for those extra tests with Omega. Maybe there was something wrong with them.

This was their third ritual, the past two had gone very well. Only getting somewhat dizzy with the heat of the stage lights and the effort of playing the drums. They had managed to stand up without fainting by taking deep breaths. But right now, in this damned venue and its non-existent ventilation, Pebble found themselves sweating bullets. Their skin felt clammy and cold, their breath getting quicker, same as their heartbeat. 

This was more than the adrenaline from rituals, Pebble was in trouble. 

By the last song of the set, their vision was becoming spotty, but they did their best to keep playing. If Dewdrop, Aether and Ifrit could jump around the stage and play at the same time, surely they could keep playing while sat down. 

The alarm bells really rang in their head when that last song ended. The crowd was cheering, and they cursed the damn mask for not letting them breathe properly. They had to stand up, go to the front with the others, go to their place for final bows. But just as they stood up, they realised just how bad they had let it become. The headache came in so hard they had to close their eyes and grasp their head. They may have been glamoured, but the loud whine they let out sounded like that of a wounded animal. 

They tried to walk down the steps of their stage, but their vision went all black and unlike that time after that hot shower, this time they crumpled to the floor like a wet napkin. Aether looked back at his stage as he saw several people in the crowd pointing behind him.

He saw Pebble, unconscious, sliding down the steps of their stage. He ran to catch the smaller ghoul before they could reach the bottom. Ifrit and Dew turned to look at Aether, confused as to why he would be heading backstage in a rush before final bows. Then rushed to help him as they saw him removing Pebble’s mask.

Papa grumbled his disapproval to Zephyr, but quickly changed his demeanour as Ifrit ran back to him. - Pebble is out cold, Aether is taking them back to the greenroom -. They bowed and quickly headed back.

When he opened the door to the green room, Papa found Pebble laying on the couch, Dewdrop holding their legs high and Aether sat on the floor taking vitals. The quint assured them all that Pebble would be fine, even if they had some nasty bruises from their fall. 

When Pebble woke up, they groaned and tried to sit up. But with a gentle hand on their chest, Aether kept them on their back. 

Don’t move just yet love. Your heartbeat just went through the roof.

M’fine

No, you’re not. You just passed out on stage, and I need to get Omega on the phone now.

Terzo fumbled with his robe to take his phone out and call the older ghoul. Pacing around the room while waiting for his lover to answer.

Terzo? 

Hi Amore, Aether needs to talk to you. Now.

Wait, aren’t you in the middle of a ritual right now?

No, just finished. But Pebble fainted.

What? Ok, let me talk to Aether please.

He handed his phone to the quint. Sitting by Pebble’s head, petting their head and around their horns. Hoping to comfort one of his smallest ghouls.

Aether immediately got to work, narrating all the important details to Omega. All Terzo could glean from what was said was that this was not the first time Pebble had fainted, and that more tests were needed to have an answer as to why they were passing out. 

The rest of that leg of the tour went surprisingly well. Pebble didn't faint, although there were a few close calls, but much to Pebble’s annoyance, Aether was on top of them, all the time. Just as they got back to the abbey, Omega practically kidnapped them and got them to the infirmary. 

A full week of tests got them their answer. There was something wrong and other ghouls definitely did not feel like this every day of their lives topside. Postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome. Stupid Human thing to have. 

They walked back to their room after Omega was done with indications. There was nothing that could be done to get rid of the problem. They would always be smaller, lesser, defective. The feeling of being lesser invaded them. They’re supposed to be a demon straight from hell, strong, fast, agile. Not a runt that has to be watched over all the time. 

What made it truly worse was the news they were given before the next leg of the tour. They would be summoning another Earth ghoul, Omega and Terzo had decided touring would be too much on their body. Straight up salt in the wound. No only that, they would be training them in the time remaining.

Their out of control heart rate and quick breaths didn’t help at all when they asked for the decision to be reconsidered. Pebble walked back to their room, to calm down on their own, to mope for weeks and isolate from their pack. 

With time, they learn to live with it instead of against it. Accepting their body just as it was, flaws and all. It doesn’t come quick, and they still miss the little time they had with their Papa on stage. 

But yes, with time, the bitterness subsides. They still get frustrated sometimes, and some days are impossible. They still faint all over the abbey, but they’re fine at least.