#who passed away at 3am today

[thoughtsafterdark]

Hospitals and Airports are the closest modernity can come to reaching the Divine

Have you noticed how some places seem immune to time and social conventions. Like airports, those monoliths of now. Harsh lights burning and souls criss-crossing, tongues melting together into a writhing throng of humanity, a steaming cesspit of consciousness. Steeped in camaraderie yet drenched in isolation. The electric blue arrivals sign glares with neon brightness at 3am, a beacon that signals the end of the road.

Here comes a family of 4 on their way home, crossing through automatic doors into the balmy drizzle of a British night, carrying their loot of straw hats and cheap pendants, tan lines and peeling red lobster skin. A girl no older than 5 limps after her parents and older brother. She lugs her bright pink unicorn behind her and hugs the hood of lilac pyjamas close, rubs the sleep out of her eyes whilst her mother shouts at her to hurry. Soon she’ll tuck herself into bed, in the attic of their ordinary red brick London row house, and she’ll watch the sun peak over the trees in the back garden for the first time in her life. It will become a core memory she will think fondly back on for years to come.

By the first class lounge they hurried past, a man in an impeccable suit (Sheep’s wool, the finest money can buy. The grey colour of the Thames on an early morning) paces back and forth restlessly, briefcase in hand, phone in another. Gold amber eyes like a hawk, close cropped black hair and neatly trimmed beard, square pocket matching the deep tan of his shoes (authentic leather). He is barking orders to someone in Arabic, closing deals, building empires. A bloodied napkin he used to stop a nosebleed earlier falls out of his pocket and winks up at the scaffolding exposed ceiling, high and arching like the dome of a cathedral. He’ll make the sale, then visit the airport bathroom again before hailing a cab to the closest 5 star. In the morning, the maid who took the job to send money to her ailing mother in the Philippines will find his cold stiff body and scream. She’ll call the police and be taken in for questioning. She never signed up for this.

At the hospital coffee shop – two streets and half a lifetime away - a 4th year med students sips on a cortado like her life depends on it. Caffeine surges through her veins, bracing her for the day ahead. Unbelievable how exhausting trying to take up as little space as possible can be. She hates the spiel, it’s the same every time. A new dawn, a new face, a new team. The introductions, the smiling, the grovelling, the headache. She’s 5ft flat with bright orange hair, aspirations for Neurosurgery and a bright pink notebook, so why would they take her seriously.

It’s 8:30, and she’s scheduled for 9am clinic, so she has time for a hurried breakfast today. (Eating any earlier makes her gag). Small mercies. The off-red stained scrubs she nicked from the theatre changing rooms cling to her like a second skin preparing to moult. She squirms in them, the comfort undeniable. They make her feel like she belongs. They make her feel like an imposter.

Her table – she comes here so often; she thinks of it as hers - sits right by large windows overlooking the main entrance and staircase. She sees it all from here, her quiet unassuming throne. The doctors and nurses, physios and pharmacists. Rushing rushing, running, stressing. Wishing, hoping, waiting, waiting, waiting. For the shift to end, for the time for bed. For this rotation to change, for the exam to pass. We’ll go on that holiday next month, next year. When money isn’t tight, when things are more settled.  Before they know it they’ve wished their lives away.

Their patients understand, all too well and all too late. The same father with the IV drip and the metal stand comes down here every morning to see his daughters. They run up to him, he holds them close and beams. But his grip is getting weaker, smile is getting thinner. He doesn’t answer when they ask when he’s coming home. It’s funny what we can’t hear when we’re too busy wearing stethoscopes. Next month she (I) will be stationed on the Psych ward. We’ll have to do it all again, but maybe they’ll hear me this time. Maybe it’ll get easier.

Between them all and among them, if you squint and unfocus your eyes during one of those ungodly hours at the Starbacks across from Boots and WHSmith, leaning against a grey white pillar you might see him.

He is the spectre that haunts airport lounges and waiting rooms alike, the handsome stranger with the black snapback and the beats headphones and the khaki shorts. The one who lives out of a rucksack and wears a travel pillow like a crown. With the kind eyes and crows feet, and honey chestnut curls. He is that boy from your high school everyone liked, with a kind word for everyone; the one with a charmers smile and the charisma to bullshit his way through anything. The one who – when pressed for future plans, would laugh and shake his head, looking down bashfully. “I just want to travel for now, see where it takes me. I want to see the world”, he’d say, eyes twinkling with the possibilities. On someone else, the words would likely merit a telling off, they’d be seen as the paper thin excuse to fuck around and get high. But he seemed so genuine, and his teeth were such a dazzling shade of brilliant white when he smiled, even the strictest careers advisers couldn’t resist.

He lives in those moments, the liminal fabric between worlds that’s so hard to put your finger on. Blink and you’ll miss him in the old alleys of Rome, the spark of his cigarette lighter blending amongst the city lights.

You’ll find him among the most remote hiking trails of the Peloponnese, laughing with local shepherds and German tourists alike, sitting on jutting rocky cliffs and admiring the blue Mediterranean below. If you really pay attention, you’ll see his staff isn’t like the others. Something suspiciously like a pair of snake slithers up and down. You could swear you heard them whispering just now, but when you look again it’s just a wooden stick.

He is the patron of us wanderers and travellers, those of us with movement in our blood and restlessness in our hearts. The ones who beget the will of changing winds and shifting tides. The ones who can’t allow themselves to sit still, lest the dust settle and the coffee get cold. The mortifying ordeal of being seen and known. Or the ones that carry a hearth with them, in the bottom of a suitcase, in the heart of a trailer. The ones who move and weave through the Earth not because they are running but because they are coming home. He dances and jokes with the kids amongst campfires, always welcome, always a pleasure. And if he helps them pick the odd lock, swearing solemnly to secrecy, who are we to judge.

His bronze skin smells of cinnamon and nutmeg, vanilla and cedar and a thousand other spices. He reeks of incense and market stalls, moles and freckles tell the story of trading routes and old silk roads, of cotton shawls from Alexandria and silk from Pekking. His fingers and eyes twinkle with the good-natured mischief of petty thieves and sleight-of-hand magicians, tricksters and circus performers. He picks apples from behind ears, presents jewel necklaces to his lovers.

She sees him now, amongst the patients. He helps an old lady up the steps, pulls a balloon out of his back pocket to the delight of a sick child. She locks eyes with him and they nod at one another She has been seen now, and known. Perhaps she’ll find him again one day, if either stop running.

[eu0n1a]

Pls I need more of yandere Izuku!!! I BEG OF YOU!!!! I 100% believe he is stalker material and would have that wall of pictures of you.

yandere prohero izuku breaking into your home (+more Stalking details)

your relationship seemed normal to you, he's your childhood best friend. after graduating UA and quickly rising to the top. you never escaped his mind. he misses you SO MUCH!

i mean you two have spent practically your whole lives together, and now what? nothing? he's so busy now, beating villains bloody, attending national TV interviews. if it's not the work then it's the media not giving him space to breathe. and you barely have time with all the pile of work your professors give you.

he would try his best to maintain contact with you. but everytime the messages would be hours apart. he felt you fading away and it upset him. he hasn't seen you in so long.

so he decides to visit you. issue is during his visit ...

he knows it's late at night. but something caught his eye. around the small space between the curtains and he saw YOU!

"gosh you're so cute," he thinks with heart eyes.

deciding to let himself in.

"best friends let themselves into eachother's houses, right?"

"i just want to turn off the TV, i'm doing her a favor."

taking advantage of the fact it's 3AM. passing through the white picket fence. in your backyard he opened the back door you forget to lock. Japan is one of the safest countries in the world. why lock it?

because of him. you'll learn soon.

exploring your house first, particularly your bedroom. rationalizing it by saying, "their birthday is coming up. maybe i'll find out what she likes."

of course he rationalizes every odd thing he does.

sniffing the pillows, a soft smile, whispering to himself, "mm strawberry shampoo" total lovesick idiot.

by the time, he finished learning things about you, he got to the living room. The TV radiating light on your face, everything else dark.

today was his first picture, his heart beating rapidly as he took it. gosh, how much he wanted to kiss you, hold you. you always lingered on his mind and he hates himself. hates himself for not confessing his love to you back in UA.

you could have been his. his honey, his lover. someone to dote on, someone to love, he hated how he wasn't able to caress your cheek.

but for now he had to return back home.

creating fake social media accounts. thank goodness you didn't have a private account. saving all your pictures, visiting your page whenever he could.

screenshotting pictures, making deep dives on the surroundings. who's that? he's searching up everything about the people around you in those pictures.

but he wouldn't talk to you, no. he needs to make sure he has all his facts straight about you. needs to make your reunion perfect.

instead he took pictures, videos. his phone had a whole folder dedicated to them. it was private, labeled as 'documents'. even bought a usb to upload it to his personal laptop.

pictures of you out on a walk, at a club, at home. he would dedicate his time simply staring, excusing it as "she's changed so much, i need to learn more about her".

it turned into something he couldn't help. secretly following her because 'a quirkless person must be protected. nothing will happen to them on my watch.'

familiarizing himself with you again as he opens one of his drawers. notebooks upon notebooks, all about you, from elementary to his UA years. reading through them either to give himself a good laugh or reminisce the past.

opening up a new notebook for a new era. once the pen hits the paper, he writes quickly, whispering gibberish at a rapid pace only he could understand.

(thx 4 the ask, I've literally never had one before💗)

[auguryofjellyfish]

[next to you, before]

Hasegawa Ken, a university student, is living the best life he could possibly ask for. He has a loving and supportive family, studies that challenge him, and gets to spend most of his days with his best friend and housemate, Kazutoshi. He wonders how he managed to get so lucky. One day, he has a very disturbing dream.

Inspired by the College AU by the amazing @causeimcrayzeebee! 3k words, oneshot. Spoilers for the end of chapter 3 of Tetro Danganronpa Pink. Heavily implied Hasemura.

TW: heavy angst, self-injurious behaviour.

[ao3]

“Ken...”

“Keeen...”

“Ken. WAKE UP!”

“AUGGHHH!” Hasegawa shot up from his bed with an ear-piercing yell. His eyes darted around frantically, chest heaving, until his eyes settled on...

“Wow. Right in my ear.” Kamimura drawled, unsticking his hands from the sides of his head and smoothing out his ponytail.

“Ka...Kazuto...shi...” Hasegawa panted, tears rapidly filling his eyes and falling down.

At once, concern melted away the irritation on Kamimura's face. “Hey, you alright?” he asked softly, lightly touching Hasegawa's wet cheek with the back of his finger.

Hasegawa flinched away, squeezing his eyes shut and taking a few deep breaths. He slowly blinked them open, and looked around the room once more, through blurry eyes.

He was in a room...his room? Everywhere he looked, there were books and loose pieces of paper laying around. On his desk, the floor, spilling from the bookshelf. The walls, covered with paintings depicting marine life and a few awards, were a pleasant shade of baby blue.

Of course. It was his room, in the apartment he bought for himself and Kamimura, for university.

“Oh...” his shoulders sagged, and he rubbed his face roughly. “I had...such a messed up dream...”

“I can see that. It's late, you can tell me about it at breakfast, come on.” Kamimura said, ushering him out of bed.

Hasegawa followed him dazedly. Passing by the desk, he noticed a few photo frames standing in the corner. In one, there was his mom, Mao, himself, and Kamimura sitting around a table with fancy looking dishes on it. In another, there was just him and Kamimura standing in front of a tall, modern building, consisting mostly of glass. In the photo, Hasegawa is smiling, looking down at Kamimura, who is looking straight at the camera with a proud smile. Hasegawa looked away.

“Breakfast?” he blinked. “Ah...you didn't have to...”

“I know. I wanted to. I know you stayed up until, like, 3AM today, so you wouldn't be able to make it anyway. I had to save our kitchen from burning down.” Kamimura smiled cheekily.

Oh, yeah. He had to work on his assignments for university, so he stayed up late.

Hasegawa's cheeks burned. “Hey, I'm not that bad!”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I like your cooking.” Kamimura bumped Hasegawa's elbow with his own.

They got to the living room, where two bowls were on the table, emanating a pleasant smell of miso.

“Ooh...that smells really good. And it's with edamame, too.” Hasegawa sat down and clapped his hands. “Thank you for the meal.” he said, Kamimura echoing him.

He put the spoon in his mouth, and the rich flavour put a smile on his face. The cooking lessons they were taking together were starting to pay off.

“So, what are your plans for today?” Hasegawa asked, dipping into his bowl.

“Uh... Just meeting up with my supervisor. Might also swing by the lab later. You know I like this stuff, but the analytical chapter's been really kicking my ass.” Kamimura responded with a dry tone, focused on slowly eating his meal.

“Tell me about it...” Hasegawa groaned, hanging his head. “I had to finish two huge book reports yesterday...”

“Uh-huh, is mighty Ken having problems at school for the first time in his life? Now you know what it's like for the rest of us plebeians.” Kamimura teased, making Hasegawa chuckle.

“Plebeians? Says the guy taking advanced forensic chemistry courses!”

“Oh yeah, no, I'm suuuuper smart, thanks. Basically, they should just give me the degree already. Maybe also throw in a Nobel Prize.”

Hasegawa snickered. “O-oh, yeah? What would it even be for?”

“Uh,” Kamimura thought, "I dunno, for revolutionizing the entire field of chemistry as we know it? They should give me a bazillion yen too while we're at it.”

“We really don't need that...We already have way too much money.”

“No, you have too much money. I'm like...a freeloader. Some guy living in your house.”

“You're not a freeloader! You do a lot around here, uh...You made us breakfast?”

“Oh gee, then my status has increased to live-in cook, amazing.”

“That's not—!” Hasegawa tried to interject, while Kamimura laughed, in that bright, airy way he always does.

Hasegawa joined in.

After they calmed down, Hasegawa caught Kamimura's eyes. “But, really...You're doing great, Kazutoshi. You're gonna knock them dead with your research.”

“Eh...I wouldn't go that far...But...Thanks.” Kamimura responded, smiling softly into his soup. They continued eating in comfortable silence.

“Soooo...do you wanna talk to me about that dream you had?” Kamimura asked nonchalantly, not looking up from his bowl.

Hasegawa's spoon stilled in front of his mouth, his earlier mirth evaporating into mist. He set the spoon back on the table. “I, uh...I don't...know? I...I don't even want to think about it, really...” he mumbled. “Most of it is already a blur anyway.”

Kamimura hummed, pursing his lips. “I mean...Sure, but, you didn't see yourself, Ken. Your face...you looked terrified. Like, really terrified.”

Hasegawa took a deep breath and closed his eyes, forcing himself to think back to his dream. The only things he can remember are flashes...of darkness, ever-present cold...and blood. So much blood, everywhere. The stench was overwhelming, and every time he took a breath he could feel it stuck in his nose- and he- and Kazutoshi-

Shivering, he shook his head, trying to get rid of the sensation. It wasn't real. It was just a nightmare. “Ma-maybe later...”

“Mhm. Okay. Just...y'know that, I'm here for you, yeah? You don't have to bottle that shit up. I...care about you, Ken.”

For a reason he didn't know, Hasegawa was awestruck. He wanted to cry again. He swallowed the urge and simply smiled back. “Yeah. You too. Thank you, Kazutoshi.”

“Yeah...Anytime.”

After they'd finished breakfast and Hasegawa cleaned the dishes, the two of them started preparing for their day. Hasegawa's classes were first, while Kamimura had his meeting later during the afternoon.

Hasegawa slipped on his shoes, and stepped out of the door, looking back at Kamimura. “Well...see you later, Kazutoshi.”

Kamimura nodded. “Wait. You forgot something. C'mere for a sec.” Kamimura gestured, beckoning for him to lean down. Hasegawa complied, bemused.

He got pulled down the rest of the way with a tug on his sleeve, and then Kamimura placed a soft kiss on his cheek. Hasegawa's face instantly erupted into flames, his hand flying up to press on the exact spot. “...Wh-wha..!”

“What?” Kamimura said casually, his cheeks dusted pink. “You can't give your homie a goodbye kiss on the cheek anymore? Damn, Ken. Keep up.”

Hasegawa sighed, tension melting from his body. “...Please don't say that word ever again. It sounds so wrong.” and yet, he couldn't help but smile.

“What, 'homie'? I can say whatever I want. Like...go hit the gym, bro. Work on these noodle arms!”

“Stooop...” Hasegawa whined, giggling into his hand. “And you know I work out!”

“Whatever. Just go already.”

“Sure.” Hasegawa said, an easy 'I'm off' falling from his lips as he slipped out of the door, closing it behind him. He walked a few steps further into the hallway and put his face in his hands, letting out a muffled groan.

He shook it off, walked into the elevator, and once inside, he pumped his fist with a quiet, “Yes!”

He made his way towards campus. His steps were so light he was almost skipping, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. It was going to be a great day.

-------------------------------------------------

Later, in the early evening, Hasegawa got back home from his classes. He'd stopped by the store on the way, buying groceries for the next few days. He set his heavy bags on the counter with a sigh.

He looked around the apartment. Kamimura wasn't there, so.. He must be at the lab. So Hasegawa might as well do some chores in the meantime, instead of waiting.

Cleaning the apartment was a task that was done by Kamimura, typically. That involves mopping, vacuuming, dusting...Hasegawa tried to help at first, but he just can't do it as well as him. When his friend is indisposed, though, he does his best. And Hasegawa does try to clean his room regularly for both of their sakes, so it's not that bad...mostly...

He has other tasks to that fall to him, anyway. He monitors both of their medication, making sure they're refilled on time, he keeps track of the appointments, makes plans whenever they go out somewhere, restocks the fridge and essential items, he cooks, most of the time-they take turns- and...he does the laundry.

He went to the bathroom, and saw that the laundry basket was almost full. He dumped it out. Something caught his eye- laying there in the pile was Kamimura's favourite sweater, that Hasegawa got him on his birthday. He wears it often.

It was a dark navy colour, and made of cashmere, as soft as he could find it. Hasegawa had cut off all the tags before giving it to Kamimura, and when asked about the price, he said 'not that much, really', stammering all the way.

Kamimura dropped the matter, probably just not feeling like calling him out on his obvious lie. Still...if he knew how much it cost, Hasegawa'd never hear the end of it.

Hasegawa rubbed the fabric between his fingers, looking down at the sweater with soft eyes.

Seeing that smile on Kamimura's face was worth any amount of money.

He smoothed it out, and set it aside for later. He always hand-washes this one.

He put the dirty laundry in the washing machine and turned it on. Kamimura still wasn't home. He decided to go make them some dinner. Something simple. He was kind of tired.

He took out a pot, poured water into it from their filtering pitcher, and turned on the stove. He yawned. He was way too tired to soak in the bath today...Maybe he'll just take a nice hot shower later...

Hasegawa was thrown out of his thoughts by the sound of his phone ringing. He answered it without looking.

“Hey, Ken....Can you, uh...come get me?” Kamimura sounded out, his voice quiet and speaking slower than usual.

Hasegawa straightened out, immediately on high alert. “What happened? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” a terse, staticky sigh was heard through the receiver. “I just...don't want to walk back by myself. I'm in front of the chem building.”

“O-okay. I'm coming. Hang on tight.” Hasegawa said, and when Kamimura hung up, he all but booked it out of the apartment, turning the stove off first, and pausing only to slip on his shoes. He forced himself to slow down slightly, feeling anxiety creep in from his stomach, up and outwards, starting to shake him from head to toe.

He didn't know where it was coming from. Kamimura said he was fine. He didn't sound all that bad too.

Hasegawa wished he could just will this horrible dread away.

Fortunately, the campus was situated rather close to their apartment. After 11 minutes, he was in front of the chemistry building, and upon seeing Kamimura sitting on the bench nearby, he almost melted with relief.

He walked up to him, briefly pausing to catch his breath.

“Shit, Ken, you didn't need to run.” Kamimura blinked.

“I...know...What's...up?” Hasegawa panted out, and then straightened with a groan.

“I'm...I'm okay. Or, eh, I don't know. I just probably ate something bad, or...y'know.”

“Alright...I-If you say so.” Hasegawa said, remaining on his guard either way. He couldn't help it. He was always worried about something.

Plus...If he was really fine, then why would he call? Kamimura knew his limits. He wouldn't just call for him for no reason. It wasn't adding up.

Kamimura stood up from the bench, and swayed slightly in place.

Hasegawa reached out his hand, stilling, before lightly touching Kamimura's shoulder. “A-are you sure you're alright?”

Kamimura rubbed his forehead. “Ye-yeah...I'm fine. Just...feeling dizzy. Let's just go home. I just need to lie down in my bed.”

Hasegawa nodded, and both men started walking back, step by step. Hasegawa tried to stick close, but took care not to crowd him.

They walked in silence. When Hasegawa glanced at him from the corner of his eye, Kamimura looked tired, his expression somber, looking straight ahead. It didn't seem like he was in the mood to talk anyway.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't notice Kamimura stumbling. He managed to catch him by the elbow, and steadied him. “C-careful!”

“H-huh? Oh...Yeah...” Kamimura mumbled, sluggishly raising his arms and looping them around Hasegawa's own, clutching it.

Hasegawa bit the inside of his cheek. If Kamimura willingly leaned on him for support, without any complaint and attempts at saving face, it must be bad bad.

He observed him more intently, going through a mental checklist of his symptoms. Tiredness, dizziness, sluggishness, confusion, drowsiness, impaired breathing, general weakness. Still, this is only from what he could see externally. A flare-up?

“Kazutoshi...” he started, as calmly as he could. “Maybe...we could go to a hospital, just in case...”

Kamimura flinched.

“N-no...I just...wanna go home....”

“Kazutoshi—”

“Fucking hell- please, Ken...Please. Just let me g-go home...”

His voice sounded so rough, it made Hasegawa's heart clench. The taller man pursed his lips, and said nothing. He breathed, in and out.

They'd need to get some stuff from home either way. He relented.

But it didn't feel right. Something was wrong. Really wrong.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Kamimura leaned on him the whole time, eyes half-closed in a daze. Hasegawa wanted to enjoy Kamimura's weight on his arm, the warmth emanating from his body, like he normally would. But it was overshadowed by a cloying miasma of worry.

Finally getting to the front entrance of their apartment complex, Hasegawa pulled him into the hallway, and pushed the button to open the elevator. They stepped inside.

Standing in silence, Hasegawa heard Kamimura shift, and then felt a weight on his shoulder. Kamimura leaned his head against him.

Despite everything, Hasegawa felt his heart flutter, warmth flooding his face. He breathed in, shakily.

They...didn't really...talk about what they are, to each other? He knows Kamimura is the best friend he's ever had. With him, his days are filled with laughter, easy banter, discussions about everything and anything. He's been more comfortable with him than anyone he's ever met, outside of his family.

It's not always easy. There are days when Kamimura shuts himself in his room and doesn't come out. When he feels awful, physically and mentally, and lashes out. Hasegawa hides away too, occasionally, when everything just gets too much. Their lives aren't free of struggle and pain, but still, Hasegawa wouldn't give it up for anything.

And...sometimes...things happen, and it makes him wonder.

Well, they did...cuddle, the other day. And the thing from this morning, too...Still, he can't be sure. If he's not the one initiating the conversation, Kamimura doesn't really want to talk about sensitive topics. And Hasegawa is...scared. Scared that it would be awkward, that he would come on too strong, that Kamimura wouldn't feel the same and he would pull away and and-

...He doesn't want to lose this. Lose him. He wants anything but that.

Still. He still hopes, that...maybe...

Hasegawa sighed, and shifted, nuzzling his cheek on the top of Kamimura's head. His hair was so soft. He smelled really nice. So fresh and light, like ocean breeze.

Even if they never talked about it, Hasegawa wouldn't change a thing. He was still satisfied. Just getting to be next to him...was more than enough. He was lucky. So, so lucky to have this.

His heart felt so full.

“Hey... Don't fall asleep,” he whispered.

Kamimura jerked awake, his breath hitching. His eyes shifted around the elevator. He furrowed his brow, and his expression turned grim. “Yeah. Right,” he said flatly, but while at least looking more alert than before.

They arrived at their floor. Kamimura's hand tightened on his arm.

“You couldn't have known this would happen, Ken. Don't blame yourself.”

“...Huh?”

Outside the elevator, Kamimura let go of Hasegawa's elbow and went on ahead. Hasegawa was rooted to the spot. His feet wouldn't move.

He blinked, and the shorter man had already opened the door, having walked halfway through it.

Kamimura looked back at him. He opened his mouth, and sighed.

“Ken...I...”

Then he smiled, looking so sad and so tender that it took Hasegawa's breath away.

“Thank you. You know. For being there.

“I'm glad that at least... we were able to meet each other in that hellhole.

“...You were really the only one who made it bearable, anyway.”

He waved his hand.

“Seeya.”

Hasegawa blinked, his mouth opening.

“Wha-huh? Kazutoshi, wai—”

Hasegawa reached out his hand, just as Kamimura's image slipped away, the door closing behind him with a bang.

With his legs working again, Hasegawa stumbled to the door, and grabbed at the handle frantically.

“Kazutoshi! H-hey! Wh-what are you do-doing? Open the door!”

He pulled at it, to no avail. He didn't understand what was happening. Everything was fine one second, and the next, Kamimura was just gone.

He was gone.

“Th-this isn't fucking funny!” Hasegawa's voice cracked. “Kazutoshi! Please...”

Silence.

With shaking hands, he took out the key from his pocket and tried one, two, three times before he managed to put it in the keyhole, and turned it.

He pulled at the handle, and threw the door open.

“Kazuto—”

Blood.

So much blood.

On the floor. On the shelves.

Coating every inch of the small space.

And in the middle, there was a chair, where a small, decapicated body of Kazutoshi was sitting, quiet and still.

It was still cold in the art supply room.

Hasegawa screamed.

He wakes up, a loud cry tearing out of his throat. The blanket falls to the floor in a heap.

Panting, he glances at the other side of his bed. It's empty.

No- no-

Oh god-

Kazutoshi- he- he was- he is-

Immediately, he falls into heaving sobs, his hands flying up to clutch at his face. His throat constricts, and he coughs. He swallows roughly, pushing the bile down.

“Oh god, please no, please no, no more, please...,” he wails. “No, no, no, nononononoNO!”

Images and sounds flash through his mind on repeat.

The mangled body, they cut out his tongue, they gutted him, the horrible gloating, the laughter-

He brings his hand up, curled into a fist, and lands a blow on the side of his head, once. Twice. It's not working.

He screams again and then swerves his body to the side wall, banging the top of his head on it hard.

“AGHH! FUCK!”

The pain shocks him enough to make the panic recede, but only slightly. He covers his face and breathes loudly, groaning into his arm. “Mmmh....mmghh...”

He feels like he's dying. He might as well be.

He whimpers and clenches fistfuls of hair in his hands. He feels nauseous, his head aches like crazy, he's soaked with sweat, he has no meds and he can't take it anymore.

He can't take it anymore.

For no fucking reason at all...!

If only he didn't...Why did he...

Why didn't he stay with him?

Hasegawa curls up into himself, bringing his knees to his chest.

He thinks about his mom. Dad. Mao. Reina.

Kazutoshi.

He wants to go home. He just wants to go home.

He starts mumbling into his arms, voice hoarse, muffled by the fabric.

“Kazutoshi...Kazutoshi...Oh, god...Kazutoshi...

“I'm sorry....I'm s-so, so sorry...!

“I need you...

“Please... Please...Come back...

“Please...”

He continues to plead, until the morning comes.

‎

‎

[saddled-on-stars]

Hey! So for some reason your ask was deleted somehow?? It disappeared from my drafts?! But anyways, here you go lovely <3 @habitabel asked: please write Keatlejuice gifting reader stuffed animals please 🙏 and then listening to reader ramble on about the names, backstories, and how they got the stuffed animals they already have ty 🫶 I’m sorry that this one took me so long!! I hope you enjoy it!!

Happy reading! - Star ★

-★-★-★-★-★-★-★- Trigger Warnings: Explicit Language, Suggestive Themes -★-★-★-★-★-★-★- Key: ★ (Y/N) = Your Name ★ (L/N) = Last Name -★-★-★-★-★-★-★- Requested by: @habitabel (THANK YOU FOR BEING SO PATIENT WITH ME, I'm sorry that this took so long 😭🙏) -★-★-★-★-★-★-★-

- ★ - Stuffing Stories - ★ -

It’s 3AM, and the only sounds in the room are of your own groaning, and the pillows shuffling along your bed. You can’t sleep due to the constant negative thoughts running through your brain, at a million miles a minute.

The day was going great—work was it’s typical busy, but you don’t mind, and you even had a lighthearted chat with your coworker about your shared love for old sitcoms. But then came the side-eyed comment about your ‘Unwilling Service’ from someone who didn’t even know you, and how much it got into your head. You were just trying to answer their question, which was unbelievably bizarre. They asked something about how to get to the park that was thirty minutes away. Hell, you didn’t even know the place existed, and you didn’t work for a directory station.

You are already practically on edge as you walk through your apartment door. Dinner is an afterthought, the thought of eating even something small, sounding like too much of a task. And though you try distracting yourself with a movie, The Exorcist, obviously, the restless energy refuses to fade.

It isn't just today, though. Sleep had been a problem for weeks, a relentless cycle of tossing and turning that left you staring at the ceiling, wondering why you just couldn’t sleep. Tonight is no different. The clock ticked past midnight, then 1AM, now 2AM, each passing minute a reminder that tomorrow would be another day of exhaustion.

Your chest grows tight, your breathing shallower than you’ve experienced, in a LONG time for that matter. The usual distraction techniques aren’t working. Counting sheep, breathing exercises, even scrolling through your phone—all useless.

You pull the covers over your head, but the heaviness of the day’s events looms large. That offhand comment from earlier—’unwilling service…’ Did they mean lazy? Disinterested? Were they secretly annoyed with you? Did everyone at work feel that way? Was it the same with your friends?

The spiraling thoughts claw their way deeper. You clench your fists, nails digging into your palms. You hadn’t meant to start tossing and turning, the pillows shuffling deeper.

"Fuck, what is wrong with me?" you mutter under your breath.

With a shaky breath, you sat up, rubbing your eyes. The weight in your chest hadn’t gone away, but you knew someone who’d make it bearable.

"Beetlejuice," you whispered, voice cracking. "Beetlejuice... Beetlejuice."

The flash of green and black in the corner of the room becomes bright with flair, causing his entrance to be as grand as ever. "It's showtime-”, he begins, but the second he takes one look at you, his demeanor shifts.

“Whoa, whoa. Babes? Fuckin’ hell, you okay?” he says, eyebrows furrowing as he notices your trembling hands and red-puffed eyes, shaking his head as he curses himself for not being there sooner. He’s by your side in an instant, sittiing on the bed with a mix of concern and determination.

“C’mere,” he mutters, pulling you close. His arms wrapped tightly around you, his striped blazer soft against your cheek. “Talk to me, Babes. What’s going on?”

You want to answer, but the lump in your throat won’t let you. Instead, you bury your face into his shoulder, your breaths uneven.

Beej doesn’t press. He doesn’t ask questions. He just shifts back against the headboard, tucking you against his chest, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it by yourself, okay? I’m here.”

The familiar rasp in his voice, usually cocky and teasing, was softer now, filled with a warmth you didn’t know you needed.

As you start to calm down, the sound of his voice keeps you grounded. “You know what you need, Babes?” he said, pulling back slightly to look at you with a small grin. “Some quality cuddle therapy... and maybe a new friend. One sec.”

Before you could protest, he vanishes with a poof, leaving you in a sense of longing, wondering where he’s gone. Only for him to reappear quickly, holding something behind his back.

“Ta-da!” He reveals a small stuffed bat with button eyes and a goofy grin. It’s actually quite cute, and it’s got a lot of character, it seems. He chuckles, and holds up the little creature, “Meet, uh... Flappy. Thought you might like him.”

The absurdity, yet adoration, of the name makes you laugh, a weak but genuine sound that seems to lift the tension in the room.

“Flappy, huh?” you say, gently taking the plushie in your hands. “What’s he doing here?”

“Oh, you know. He’s a night owl. Bit of a chatterbox. Thinks you’re the coolest guy around.”, Beej says with a large grin.

You smile, turning the toy over in your hands. “Guess he can join the others.”

Beej’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Wait, you’ve got others? Babes, you’ve been holding out on me.”

And just like that, the weight in your chest eases, feeling the utter excitement of getting to share your wholesome obsessions over your stuffed animals, each one having a characterized personality of its own. You find yourself rambling about your collection—each stuffed animal, its backstory, how you’d gotten it.

Beej listens intently, actually seeming interested in what you have to say, throwing in the occasional quip, but mostly just letting you talk.

“And this one’s name is Gemini! My friend named her, since it’s her zodiac sign, but she’s a little fruit bat, who was an orphan from the time she was a baby! She got adopted by a bunch of normal bats, who accepted her into her family, and when she grew up, she went to explore the world!”, you exclaim happily to Beej.

Beej nods with excitement, “Woah, Babes! I had no idea how much you knew about these little guys.”, he says with a joking tone and a wink.

You feel the heat rising to your cheeks, as you blush. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bore you with these little guy-”, but you’re quickly cut off.

Beej’s lips are softly pressed against yours, his eyes closed, as your eyes flutter to do the same. You wonder what made him want to do this, but you’re too shocked to care.

He pulls back slightly to look in your eyes, chuckling softly. “Do not EVER apologize for that, Babes. I think hearing about them is very sweet to hear from you. And besides, what kind of demon would love you if they didn’t hear about your little stories?”, he asks with a smile.

Your face is surely entirely red now. What did he say?

“W-What did you just say?”, you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

His black-circled eyes soften as he gazes at yours, “I love you.”, he says in a whispered tone, his gaze flickering to your lips.

Your gaze follows to his own lips, as you softly whisper back, “I love you too.”. You lean closer slowly, closing the space once again.

Out of all the backstories that you’ve shared tonight, this one will always be your favorite.

- ★ - Written By Saddled_On_Stars - ★ -

[atlasscrumpit]

Young reader x Miguel

Platonic

Warnings : Abuse, neglect

Miguel came home from 'work' and came in to see you watching TV.

"Did you get anything done that I asked?" He asked as you sat up and looked around.

"I'm sorry... I got distracted. I'm really sorry." You muttered as he groaned and rubbed his head in annoyance.

"Sweetheart, I was gone for eight hours. Did you really sit here for eight hours?" He asked as you rubbed your eyes.

"I'm sorry, I didn't feel well today and I couldn't do it..." You replied, looking away from him.

"Hey! Eyes on me when I'm talking." He demanded, snapping his fingers as you instantly looked up.

"Some days are just hard! Some days it's hard to do what you ask!" You shouted at him as he glares at you.

"Gabriella nunca fue así." He muttered as your eyes widened.

You stood up and hit his chest.

"I'm not her! I never will be!" You screamed as he grabbed your upper arm and pulled you towards your room.

"Clean your fucking room! And you're not coming out until it's done!" He shouted throwing you inside and slamming the door.

"I hate you!" You screamed as you threw stuff at the locked door.

"Keep going and I'll fucking sell everything in that room and we'll see how you go sleeping on the floor!" He shouted back as you curled up and began to hysterically sob your eyes out.

Miguel couldn't handle listening to you, he made sure your door was locked before he head out again.

--

Four hours passed and you'd cleaned up your room.

"Daddy? Can I come out? Please?" You called out, not hearing anyone response.

You felt tears in your eyes and climbed into bed.

You woke up hearing a noise around 3am, you rubbed your eyes and could hear Miguel mumbling to himself.

"Daddy? Can you let me out?" You asked tapping on the door.

Suddenly it opened and you could tell he had been drinking.

"I did what you asked..." You muttered as he smiled a little.

"Look at that. Good job, little one." He said as you crossed your arms and looked down.

"Can I have something to eat?" You asked as he yawned and opened the fridge.

He grabbed out leftover pizza and chucked a piece on the table like he was feeding a stray dog.

"There." He said before grabbing a piece for himself.

You sat at the table and began eating.

"I'm sorry, daddy..." You muttered as he looked down at you.

"Don't start with that shit." He said as you felt tears in your eyes.

"I'm sorry I shouldn't have talked back to you and I should've listened." You said as he chuckled and shook his head.

"You say that everytime, baby. But you're still a disappointment, aren't you?" He said as you stood up and backed away, no longer feeling safe.

"I've had enough pizza... I'm going to go back to bed." You said before running into your room and closing the door.

You ran into your closet and hid inside while you cried.

After a while you eventually fell unconscious from complete exhaustion.

--

Miguel woke up the next morning seeing half eaten pizza on the table and everything came rushing back to him.

"Oh, God. Fuck, what the fuck did I do?" He muttered as he cautiously entered your room and panicked when he didn't see you.

He quickly opened your closet to see you clutching a teddy and fast asleep.

He knelt down and began to cry.

"Y/N... Oh, sweetheart. What did I do?" He whispered as he brushed a piece of hair away from your face.

You woke up and looked at him in fear.

"I'm sorry, daddy. I'm sorry." You whispered with tears in your eyes.

"No, no, sweetheart. I'm the one who's sorry. Daddy was stupid and very mean last night and I shouldn't have been. What I said and did is completely unacceptable. I'm so sorry." He whispered as you jumped forward and wrapped your arms around his neck as he held you tightly.

"I don't like when you drink." You whispered as you began to cry into his shirt.

"I know, baby. I won't do it anymore, I'll get help, darling. I won't be so harsh on you anymore, I promise. I love you so much... I'll never hurt you again."

[sashaisready]

Chapter Six - You Already Know

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again.

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Series Masterlist

Chapter 7

You felt like a zombie during your shift, lifting your limbs was like wading through water. You’d nearly called out sick, but didn’t want to leave Wanda to hold the fort by herself – especially if Bucky and his stalkery thugs paid a visit. You had hardly slept after you discovered Sam in the car. It was unsettling. You wondered how long Bucky had been doing it, kicking yourself for being too oblivious to notice that you were being followed. You hated how violated it made you feel.

You had gone to work looking at each car that passed you, eyes searching for the familiar vehicle. You checked parked cars, cars halting at stop signs, cars turning down parallel streets. You didn’t see anything, but resented the paranoid wreck you’d become in a matter of hours. Then it hit you that they might have switched vehicles and you’d have no idea if they’d already passed you.

Wanda took one look at you and knew something was off, grilling you until you gave it up. You were embarrassed, truth be told. You’d gushed to her about Bucky and then you had to confess that he’d had you followed for God only knows how long. You felt foolish. It was arrogant of you to think you could tease a mob boss for months on end without any consequences.

Wanda’s eyes bugged in shock, horrified by this development.

“That’s so fucked up…” she said gently.

“Yep” you sighed sadly as you laid out the fresh stock.

“And you haven’t spoken to him since?”

You shook your head, stifling a yawn. “Nope…But if I had a crystal ball I’d assume that might change today”.

Wanda thought hard. “Are you going to go to the cops?”

You glared at her. “And say what? The employees of a man I flirt with at my bakery were parked outside my house at 3am on a public road where anyone can drive? They didn’t approach me, they were just sleeping in their car? Oh and that man just happens to be notorious mob boss Bucky Barnes, who you probably take bribes from?” you respond, sharper than you intended to.

Wanda gritted her teeth. “Well…when you put it like that…”

You sighed again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you. I know you’re trying to help. I’m just tired. And y’know…weirded out”.

Wanda nodded. She moved towards you and pulled you in for a hug. You accepted it gladly, allowing her embrace to comfort you.

“Thanks…I needed that” you murmur.

“Anytime. Look…I don’t mean to scare you, but I have to ask. Do you…do you think you’re in danger?” she asks cautiously.

You pause for a moment, considering the question. “Honestly? No. I don’t feel like I’m at risk. I’m just…very spooked” you explain.

Wanda nods, chewing her lip. You can tell she’s worried.

The bell above the door rings, breaking you two from your thoughts. Your heads spin to check who it is, only to see Bucky, Steve and Sam walk in. Their faces are solemn, it suddenly feels very warm in the room, as if you are standing right by the oven.

“Morning, gentleman” you call over to them, your tone indignant. “I would tell you what our specials are today, but I’m guessing you have already sent someone by to check”.

Bucky exhales, staring at you fiercely. His eyes are as penetrating as ever, hard to tear away from.

“Can we talk?” he asks gruffly.

You pretend to think for a moment. “Uh…no” you fire back sarcastically.

“C’mon Doll…” he replies, taking a hesitant step towards you.

“Don’t call me that” you spit.

He holds his hands up defensively. “Alright. I won’t. Look, I just want five minutes of your time. No tricks. And then I’ll be out of your way. Deal?”

You eye him suspiciously. “Just five, and then you’ll leave?”

He nods. “You have my word”.

“And you’re not going to send your goons to follow me home or anything creepy?” you ask sternly.

He shakes his head. “Nobody is going anywhere near you. I promise”.

You glance over at Wanda who gives you a small smile, reminding you that she’s here if you need her.

Your head snaps back to Bucky. “Alright, five minutes. But I don't want an audience”. You look to his men.

Bucky signals to Steve and Sam who swiftly exit the shop. You follow behind them to the front door, putting the latch on and flipping the ‘We’ll be right back!” sign in the window to be sure that you aren’t interrupted by any customers. Wanda looks at you expectantly but you nod to show you’re okay, she nods back before disappearing into the back room.

You fold your arms in front of your chest and lean against the counter, waiting for Bucky’s justification.

He clears his throat and begins to speak “So-”

“How long?” you interrupt briskly.

“What…?”

“How long?” you repeat, knowing full well he understands what you’re asking.

“Uh…since the start” he admits sheepishly.

You splutter. “Jesus fucking Christ” you hiss, covering your eyes with your hands.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot…”

“It’s so creepy! What the fuck?” you bark.

“Can you just let me talk? Please?” he snaps back, irritated now.

You shrug angrily and wave a hand gesturing him to speak.

“I’m sorry. I know how this must look. It must’ve been scary for you when you found them. You were never supposed to know…”

“Oh, well that’s fine then!” you scoff.

He looks at you warningly and you roll your eyes, allowing him to continue.

“…The fact is I do a lot of that. It comes with my job. After that first day I knew we’d be coming here a lot because the food was good and the men would want to. And that means I’d be interacting with you a lot. And that means I had to check you out. I have enemies everywhere, Doll. You’d be amazed. And you’d be handling my food so…”

You scoff. “Oh come on Tony Soprano, I’m just a Baker”.

“I know that now. But I didn’t. Look, I know it sounds crazy. But you know who I am. What I do” he looks at you earnestly, his eyes glued to yours as he talks.

“Also Tony Soprano is in the mafia…not the mob…”

You scowl at him and he holds his hand out defensively. 

“Not the time…okay I get it…”

He takes a breath and continues.

“Years ago, I started going to this coffee shop downtown. Loved the place, went several times a week. Until one day I’m grabbing my latte and the damn manager tries to turn a gun on me. Turns out an old client of mine with a grudge had cornered him, tells him he knows I’m in his shop every week and offered him $3000 to take me out when my guard is down. Said he could guarantee the cops wouldn't pursue it either. He didn’t get very far, poor kid had never pulled a trigger in his life, but it made me very cautious about where I spend my money, you get it?”

You gasp. “God, that’s horrible…”

He nods. “I know. $3k? I’m worth more than that…” he chuckles.

You shake your head with disapproval but are unable to hide your smirk.

“So you see, that’s what it was. Just to check you weren’t going to be slipping arsenic into my doughnuts or meeting with any of my...ex associates. And so we kept an eye on you. Maximoff too, very briefly”.

Your eyes widen as you listen to him talk, shocked by how casual he is about it all.

“It was soon pretty obvious to us that you weren’t cold blooded killers and didn't have any criminal ties. And here’s where I fucked up…because I know I should’ve stopped but…I don’t know. I started enjoying my time with you more and more. And I started feeling protective of you, I just wanted to make sure you were safe. So my men continued to keep an eye on you. It wasn’t all the time, just here and there. I know it’s creepy and you have every right to be mad…but that’s why. I’m sorry I scared you. I promise they won’t do it anymore. I think sometimes I’m so caught up in my world that I forget how it appears to people outside of it”.

You’re struck by the sincerity of his tone, if he was spinning you a yarn to keep you sweet then he was doing it convincingly. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come to you as you try to absorb everything you’ve heard. You’re horrified that you’ve been followed without your knowledge, your instincts tell you to get as far away from this man as you can. Yet a tiny part of you lights up at his admission that he enjoys his time with you, and that this was all motivated by wanting to protect you – as twisted as that might be. You're like a moth to a flame, unable to keep away.

“You don’t have to protect me” you reply with irritation. 

He nods, the beginnings of a warm smile curling onto his perfect mouth. “I know. I’ve overstepped, I’m really sorry”.

You find yourself annoyed that you can feel yourself relenting. He’s just so smooth, his words roll off his tongue so effortlessly – his charm envelopes you as you’re swept downstream, unable to keep your head above water. If he’s manipulating you then he’s doing a great job.

“You really enjoy your time with me?” you ask shyly.

He grins, cocking his head to the side as he drinks you in.

“Well, put it this way. This bakery is all the way across town from my home. I can’t get here without getting stuck in traffic, and I pass at least three other bakeries on the way. I've spent thousands of dollars in here. So what do you think?”

You blush, dropping your eyes to the floor. “Well, we are the best…” you reply gently.

His grin widens. “That’s also true”.

You sigh. “Alright. You’re not totally forgiven…but let’s put it behind us. BUT I don’t want to see an SUV anywhere near me from now on”.

He exhales, clasping his hands together in gratitude. “Thank-you, that means a lot to me”.

He leans in and places a gentle kiss on your cheek, your face burning as his lips make contact with your skin.

You nod, slightly flustered by the whole exchange.

“I should get going” Bucky says as he checks the time on his phone. “But I’m glad we straightened this out”.

You nod again, still slightly unnerved by it all, but giddy from his attention.

“Hey, do you think I could get your number?” he asks, handing you his phone.

You feel a surge of excitement in your belly, nodding as you take it from him and add yourself to his contacts. A burst of images fly through your head – being on a date with him, kissing him, walking hand in hand, sinking onto a mattress with him…

“I’m surprised you don’t already have it…” you say coyly as you pass the phone back.

He smirks, looking at the entry in his phone. “Well, I could’ve…but I thought you’d prefer the old fashioned way”. He winks at you as he heads to the door.

“Bucky…” you call out to him.

He turns to face you expectantly, one hand already on the door.

“What…uh…what happened to the coffee shop guy with the gun?” you find yourself asking, unable to resist scratching that itch.

Bucky’s face hardens, he drops his gaze to the floor momentarily before his focus shifts back to you again. His eyes are suddenly cold, a world away from the affection you found in them just moments before.

“You sure you want to know?” he asks chillily.

You pause, shaking your head as you stare at your feet.

You already know.

His face softens again, flipping over the sign and unlatching the door.

“I’ll see you around, Doll”.

[bastardblvd]

submitted entries for the slimeball alley on bastard boulevard collab event. please be mindful of content warnings and boundaries set by authors. want to join? read our guidelines here.

KEY: 🦠 = NSFW ⚠️ = DARK CONTENT

"DOUBLE DOWN" by @ryndicate 🦠 ⚠️

fem reader x slimeball!hirofumi yoshida, reader x stepbro!denji

"didn't know you were into that kinda stuff."

"SAFETY FIRST" by @strawberrystepmom 🦠

fem restaurant manager!reader x fake OSHA inspector!jiraiya

when an inspector unexpectedly comes to your restaurant, you figure out how to get yourself out of trouble.

"A RIDE FOR A RIDE" by @thus-spoke-lo 🦠

afab reader x taxi driver!zoro

it's 3am and walking home from your shitty job at the diner seems like a drag, so you call a cab, hoping for a quick trip back to your apartment so you can finally catch some sleep. your moss-haired, muscle-bound, directionally-challenged cabbie definitely gives you a ride you didn't expect.

"COMPLIMENTS TO THE CHEF" by @thus-spoke-lo 🦠

afab reader x slimeball line cook!sanji

a few nights pass after the sordid events of "a ride for a ride", and you're working another late night shift at franky's flapjack shack with sanji, that damned pervert cook. sanji manages to piss off your only remaining customer for the night, leaving the two of you alone in the restaurant. soon, things start to heat up in the kitchen--and not just because that one oven door won't close all the way.

"TITS FOR TAT" by @bloompompom 🦠

sorority girl!reader x tattoo artist!eren jaeger

"i hope you have a good idea about how you're going to pay for that tattoo..."

"DELIRIOUS" by @saccharine-darlin🦠 ⚠️

fem camgirl!reader x slimy sex shop owner!gojo x sex shop employee!getou

"your conservative town is something you've never thought that would let a sex shop pop up, it seemed too good to be true, and little did you know after the first time you visited you'd be caught in a web by the two perverted men who run it and quickly you learn that they always get what they want."

“PAY UP!” by @zeninsama 🦠

fem babysitter!reader x designer sunglasses model!gojo satoru

satoru's poor time management has you working overtime, and this cheap bastard has something other than cash to pay you with

"GOD BLESS ME, IT'S SUMMER" by @dolcezzzza 🦠

afab reader x slimeball ice cream truck driver!nicholas d. wolfwood

"open up."

"TRIPLE STRIKE XXX" by @em-plosion 🦠

new employee!reader x bowling alley owner!satoru gojo

"the animated neon signs glowed brightly against the wet pavement and the ‘help wanted’ flier in your hand. having to move to this hell hole of a town was bad enough but trying to find a job in it was worse, at this point this shitty bowling alley seemed to be the best option."

"HANDS TO YOURSELF" by @agirlwithapen 🦠 ⚠️

reader x dirty old man!kishibe

you’d purposely chosen the early morning transit. today was a big day, you see. you were interviewing for a position your friend had offered. it was your chance at stability, financial stability. “first impressions count.” you remember telling your soon-to-be boss over email. they do.

"CAN I HAVE A NUMBER 5?" by @gunfiendbabymama

yuuta okkotsu vs. aki hayakawa

the mcnuggets showdown.

“HONEY TRAP” by @maliciouslove 🦠

fem reader x slimeball starbucks barista!denki kaminari

having a slimebucks apron is equal to having unlimited rizz (source: me) and denki proves it by bedding his brand new colleague on her very first day of work.

“THE HR FILES” by @if-dreams-do-come-true ⚠️

afab reader x corrupt cop!kishibe

kishibe is a shameless corrupt cop with a penchant to make inappropriate advances at fresh faced interns and the reader is unfortunately his newest victim.

"STICKLER" by @princess-okkotsu 🦠

after a run-in with grimetown's sleazy cop nanami, you've come to the dmv to replace the sticker that was stolen off your car from a certain freeloader. you've got to convince the dmv employee, a stickler for the rules, that you quite badly need this problem squared away today.

[faededaway]

ᴛᴀɪꜱʜɪʀᴏ, FATGUM BNHA (ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴀᴜ!) ꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴅᴇꜰᴇɴꜱᴇ ɪɴꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴛᴏʀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ. [18+ ɴꜱꜰᴛ] [ᴛᴏᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴘʟᴏᴛ, ɢᴇɴ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟ]

It only takes one small incident to realize how fragile life really is.

Well, in hindsight, that wasn't a small incident. A short incident, yes. Maybe a 5 second thing. But stabbing someone's artery doesn't take that long and that's a fatal incident.

You'd been at a random house party that night. It'd been really late. Around 3AM or so. People were doing random things to entertain themselves. Someone suggested a competition of strength. A puts B in a headlock and B tries to free themselves.

It sounded fun. Everyone spread out in a circle, leaving room in the middle.

For the first few pairs, it was fun. You remember losing your breath from laughing at one guy's attempt to tickle their opponent to make them give up.

But when you recall your turn, your shoulders tense up and a shiver crawls up your spine.

Your opponent towered over you, your face coming up to his chest; his arm had been bigger than your face. You passed out on it quicker than you could call for help. Thankfully, it wasn't a drinking party. Many people were sober enough to rush over to your aid. It had taken four people to pull him off of you. Apparently, the big guy had had too many shots. He didn't mean to use so much strength and he didn't know you'd be so weak.

When you came to, you'd yelled in a panic; scared of anyone touching you. You'd been given space until you calmed down enough to recognize your friend (who then took you home). Even in your room, you'd been shaking in your bed. The trauma kept you up even after your friend had fallen asleep by your feet. You decided to never let this happen again.

Once the sun rose, you'd gone to your local gym and signed up for self defense classes. You didn't look too hard at any details. You were too shaken to care. The only thing that mattered to you was the need to be able to defend yourself from above mentioned situations. (Well, you looked hard at the billing details but skimmed over every thing else).

And now, 2 month later, you're here.

“We've gone over quite a lot the last few weeks. Today, I want to test your understanding of it. We will perform some example scenarios and you will try to defend yourself. Okay?”

Taishiro, your instructor, says to you as he lays out the safety mats.

It's been nice so far. Every lesson has made your shoulders less tense. You sleep better and flinch less. There's also another thing that Taishiro has helped you with.

He is huge. Huge like, 'probably hauls lumber for fun' or 'is a strong man competitor'. He is bigger than the guy who choked you; but he laughs after he sneezes because it tickles his nose and carries a We Bare Bears flask. Taishiro helped you remember that not all big guys were douchy or scary.

When he doesn't hear you reply he explains, “I use the word perform because I want you to remember I am only acting. And Itsuka is on standby. She will rush over any time you feel uncomfortable. Okay?”

You shake out all the little distractions in your head and look over to Itsuka who waves at you from her bench. You look back to Taishiro and give him the go.

Today, he's doing short one-on-one sessions with every student in class to provide catered lessons. It's not your first time doing this.

The introductory class had been similar. But seeing how similar he looked to your perpetrator made you freeze in fear. Itsuka had to step in to comfort you. He hadn't attempted anything after that. He knew there was a more pressing issue that needed attention. So he spent 20 minutes of every following class talking to you to make you more comfortable around him.

You're more than comfortable with doing this with him now.

“I walk up to you an' grab your wrist. What do you do?” he narrates as he performs. You think it's to put you at ease. You look up at him and smile. Easy.

“I raise the arm he grabbed to my face, palm side up, and grab his wrist and twist it away from me using the strength of my hips." You narrate and perform as he did.

He moves before you wearing a satisfied smile, "yes! Just remember the perpetrator won't always be male."

You can't help but grimace at his comment. He's right.

And so you continue this way for the next 15 minutes. He gives you feedback when you are unable to do some of the maneuvers and you repeat it until you get it right.

After a while, he changes the pace. "Let's try some maneuvers we haven't practiced yet. I want you to try to use the same principles and see if you can figure out what to do."

He stands behind you once again. but unlike before, he doesn't narrate anything.

"So what-"

Before you can complete your sentence, you find yourself laying on your stomach, your face pressed to the mat. Panic rushes through your body but subsides when you hear him speak, "the biggest challenge of self defense classes is to make you understand how the maneuvers work. I won't attempt anything else. Talk to me and think on how you could escape."

You take a minute to regain your breath. You try to think about your current position. Your hands lay on your side. His body isn't touching yours in any way. He is holding himself above you with his arms. In this situation, "I think I should turn on my side so I can use both my hands. Maybe I can crawl away from under you?"

"Let's try it. I won't change my position, so you can work this out." True to his words, he holds still while you try to free your arms.

When trying to lift yourself up to turn to your side, your back grazes against his torso. Even through your layers of clothes you feel his firmness. Steeling your thoughts, you focus on crawling out from under him.

"You've done so well," your face flushes when you hear his praise. You shake it off, just nerves.

He sits up and helps you do the same. Passing a towel over to you, he asks, "how are we doin'? How's your comfort level? Are we okay to continue?"

This new exercise wasn't too bad. It made you think about how real life situations would be much more unexpected. No real perpetrator would follow a script or pull 5 of the 'basic self-defense moves'. You needed to know more. You tell him as such. Eager to learn more.

"Okay, we'll enact a similar situation again. You'll lay on your stomach and the perpetrator will cage you again. This time I'll be closer to you so you have less space to work with. Okay?"

Determination fills your face as you get into position, "okay. I can do this."

A second later, you feel his warmth on your back. You feel your face heat up again; this time, the heat travels down to your stomach. You hear his voice right in your ear, "so, what can we do now? There isn't as much space as before. You may have to push me away to be able to free your arms."

His words come to you slowly. The alluring tone not matching the words being spoken. You shake your head and take deep breaths. Doing so makes him move away from you, "or we can stop here. We have done quiet a lot."

You nod. Maybe he's right.

"I'd suggest a warm shower. There should be a few empty stalls for you to use," he says as he stands up and holds a hand out to help you up again.

Warmth from his hand runs up your arm and you have to resist the urge to rub it. "Wh-, what are you doing now," you try to distract yourself by making conversation.

This tone of your question makes him pause before replying, "oh I have another student coming in 30 minutes. Gonna wipe down the mat and get ready for them."

"Oh! Let me help you," you attempt to bend over to roll the mats but he interrupts you.

"Don't worry. It's part of my routine. Helps me prepare," he smiles before waving you off.

You smile back and stumble over your feet on your way to the stalls.

Taishiro has been a self defence instructor for years now. Students often have some unintentional reactions to being very close to someone. It's natural. He's learnt to accept this. He knows how to deal with such situations.

Similarly, sometimes, he can't help how his body reacts to certain student's reactions.

He didn't lie to you when he said he has to prep for the next student. He does! He just didn't mention that the student arrives in 2 hours and 30 minutes.

He waits for Itsuka to take her leave before walking into the gym locker. He needs a cold shower.

You've grown wonderfully under his tutelage. He was worried you'd be too scared to continue his lessons. He wanted to refer you to a different instructor. But with Itsuka's help, you came around. He's glad you stuck around.

He has a soft corner for you. People are scared of him often. You have a solid reason to be scared, but to him it looks like you are trying your hardest to move past that fear. You want to be comfortable with him.

With every passing day, he grows more attached to you. Wanting you. Watching you more carefully. Maybe, being a little lenient with your late arrivals.

He can't help it. He doesn't want to upset you. He loves seeing your eyebrows wrinkle when you smile from ear to ear after learning a new move. He loves seeing your tensions fade away slowly. He definitely loved watching you bend over to-

Ah, darn. He needs the shower bad.

When he walks into the locker room, he hears a shower running.

He'd forgot he'd sent you in here.

Well, a stall further away should do.

He makes his way over to the end of the room but the sound of things scattering in your stall stop him.

He freezes. He holds his breath to try to hear you pick up your things or to hear you make some noise of acknowledgement.

When he hears nothing of that sort, he inches closer to where you are. He stops when he's close enough to put his head on the door.

He almost asks you if you're okay but sucks back his breath when he hears you.

He hears soft, frustrated cries that almost sound like sobs. Your breathing is erratic, frantic.

His knuckles tap on the door before he realizes, “darling-”

That same moment, he hears a high pitched moan from the other side. He immediately realises what the previous noises were and changes his question more befitting to his current inquiry.

“-if you need a hand, I'd love to lend you mine.”

Your breath hitches. He hears you still.

This moment, you being heard by the person that caused the predicament you're trying to take care of and then offering to help you, is something you would have never imagined.

Many questions come to your mind. But the most pressing one was, could you pass up this chance? Your hands move before you can weigh your options. You let him in.

He moves in without a second's delay. The space so crammed, his hands immediately cage you to the wall. His stomach touches your bare one. His eyes gleam as they catch the sight before him.

He looks at you once again, “thank you for letting me in. Believe it or not, I need your help too."

You reach out to touch him, He still has his clothes on but you can feel his hardness. An elusive moan escapes you, making him moan too.

"Darling, you sound so sweet," he looks into your eyes when he asks, "I want to touch you. Show me where I can touch you."

"Everywhere." And you mean it.

Feeling his body in your hands makes you crave his touch on yours. His big hands come down to your waist, still shying away from somewhere more intimate. You take his hand and pull him closer to you.

"Oh, darling, I want to kiss your skin,"

You hurry to get his clothes off of him, wanting to be closer to him, but your hands stop at his waistband. His hands cup yours, “go on, darling. Take 'em off. See for yourself what you do to me.”

A moment later, his thick cock springs free. And you choke on a moan.

He's thick, yes, but oh god. His thick cock is heavy and curls a little inwards. His tip is blush pink, his heavy balls have curtains that match his drapes.

Your hands palm his soft bush, he seems to like you doing that because, “oh, darling, love your hands on me.”

His hands move, too. His thick fingers glide across your skin, squeezing every bit of softness he felt.

Both of you are here, in this situation, without much thought. Yes, you're here because you need each other. But, how far will you go, here, in this gym stall?

“I said I'd lend a hand so, let me continue what you were doing, alright? Let me use my hands to please you.” Thankfully, he thinks the same thing you do.

You nod your head, “can I do the same for you?”

He shows you his billion watt smile and touches your forehead with his, “please do.”

You wrap your hand around his girth, the warmth of him bleeding into your hand. His hands reach for your warmth.

The two of you moan at first contact, soft giggles following the shared pleasures.

“Guide me how you need me, 'aight? I wanna be good to you.” A hand of his cups your face when he speaks to you, you feel his earnestness through his touch.

You nod wanting to say the same to him, a hand of yours running over his chest and his stomach.

He hums in approval, you hum too.

He ruts into your hand when you slow your pace and squeeze him tighter. You rut into his hands when he does the same to you.

You look into each other's eyes, glances stolen towards the other's lips. He leans in when you do, first kiss turns into three, four, and more.

You dance in sync until the sound of the water running fades into the background and the heat of your bodies keep you from feelings its cool.

Your come together, moaning into the kiss. His lips pull away from yours to better hear the sweet sounds that first lulled him in. Too caught up in consuming your ecstasy, he can't stop himself from cumming on your stomach. His cock throbs as it releases on your skin, some of it reaching up to your chest.

“Oh, shoot, darling, I'm sorry. Made a mess on you like this.” His apology is said through grunts and panting breaths, but you hear his slight shame. You giggle and shake your head at his comment.

Only difference with your mess is that his hand is big enough to contain it all in his palm. “Maybe you can give me a hand to do what I ought to be doing in here before, you know.”

His grin is wider than yours when he says, “lend me a hand too.”

With a finger you lift some of cum off of your chest and being it to your lips, “Mmm, of course I will.”

You're lucky Taishiro is a man with a strong will and an adult's libido. He chuckles at your display and shakes his head, “help me clean up so we can do this the proper way. I take you home, feed you a meal, and then we talk on how far this lending hand business goes.”

[END]

[goldessia]

⋆⋆⋆ ┊ heavens blessing, levi ackerman . . .

warnings: rivals to lovers, bickering/arguments, sad love confession, close-death experience, levi is kind of mean in the beginning

type: flangst ( my fav <3 )

a/n: i made this at like, 3am, so please excuse how horrible it is :’)

MY life was one thing—a fight to the top. a fight to power.

levi ackerman ranked just above me in our cadet training. that second place title killed me.

i used to hate when people compared us. when they said, “she’s only second to levi.” if anything, i loathed it. i should be on top, i should be the captain—but of course, when the time came around, he had two more titan kills than me. now, we are tied.

levi never failed to make it known that he was ranked higher. if anything, he found it amusing that it was he who qualified and not me. and boy, did he abuse his power.

now, levi was walking past us, handing out shift assignments.

“eren, border control.” he moves on, “armin, go meet hanji for the security meeting.” and finally, he stops at me. instead of reading off his clipboard like he did for the others, he places it behind him, and stares straight at me.

“last and very least..” he slants his head, “y/n. stable duty.”

anger envelopes me. “what? you can’t do that! i’m the best soldier here, i’d be much more use out there!”

he clicks his tongue. “ooh, that’s where you’re wrong.” he leans closer, “you’re second-best. remember?”

i grumble. “just because you ranked above me—by, might i remind you, two kills—doesn’t mean you can just push me around. i’m still the best solider here, ranking or not.

“and i have a feeling you’re just putting me on stable duty so i don’t have a chance to pass you in kills.” i spit.

he takes a deep breath, and leans toward me. his eyes are almost frightening—cold, icey and direct. i want to shrink under his stare, his posture, his very aura.

“you’re right.” he says, “i do rank above you. and you know what that means?” his eyes narrow. “that means i can do whatever the fuck i want with you.”

i open my mouth to speak, but he doesn’t give me the chance.

“do you want another week of stable duty? because i can do that. talk back to me again, and you’ll face the consequences.”

my jaw clenches in anger. my eyes glare into his, but both him and i can tell i’m losing this battle.

“you got it?” he says. when i don’t respond, he repeats himself. “do you understand, soldier?”

i murmur a “yes, captain.”

“louder.”

“yes,” i inhale, before spitting out the word—“captain.”

“say it nicer.”

something inside me snaps, “no. you know what?” i push him back, “i’m done. give me stable duty, at-least it will keep me away from you, and your sadistic, weirdo self.”

with that, i storm away. a little childish, i agree, but i knew if i stayed any longer i’d argue with levi until the sun set. at-least i get a break, today.

behind me, i hear a few of the new soldiers defending me. they say things like, “don’t you think that was a bit far, levi?” or, “i kind of agree, her skills would be useful out there..” but they were instantly shut down by levi.

— - mid-night . . approx. six hours later.

i felt disgusting. after hours of working in the stables, a long, hot shower was just the thing i needed. i wrung the water out of my hair, and since it was around eleven pm i knew everyone would be asleep. so, i threw on my pyjama’s, and stepped out of the shower corridors.

i wanted to murder levi, consequences be damned. he never failed to make an absolute fool out of me. one day, i swore i’d get him back.

as i turned the corner, my heart stopper in my chest when i saw a figure in-front of me, but it was too late—i had already collided with them.

“huh—! watch it—“ levi cuts himself off when he realises it’s me. “oh. what are you doing here?”

“uh, crazy concept, but i also live here.” i spit. his eyes narrow, before travelling over me, head to toe and back to my face.

“lights out was an hour ago. you shouldn’t be out here.”

“that’s why i was trying to get back to my room, before you rudely got in my way.” i say. he blinks. “so.. move.”

the corner of his lip snags up. “say please.”

i scoff. “you’re such a prick,” i spit, pushing past him. before i can keep walking, he roughly grabs my arm, stopping me.

“remember who’s in control here, y/n.” he says coldly, “or, did you forget all of your training?” he tuts, “you have to be dismissed before you can walk away from your superiors.”

“eat shit, ackerman.”

“that’s captain levi to you.”

i rip my arm from his grasp. “you’re too cocky for your own good.” i turn to face him, “from now on, ranking or not, you need to learn to respect me. i can just as easily surpass you.

“you’ll need to get used to calling me captain l/n. just a matter of time, if you keep up with abusing your power just to mess with me.”

“tough chance.” he says with a slight chuckle, “goodnight, y/n.”

“off yourself.”

with that, i spin on my heel and stalk away from him.

— - the next day . . dawn

i was ready for another day of stable duty. if anything, i was kind of happy to spend another peaceful day with the horses. i was prepared for it.

“yeah, about that.” levi says. this time, he isn’t looking at me, but at the ground. “erwin..” he grits, “insisted you come on the mission today. said that.. your skills would be useful.”

my brows raise. a small smile finds my lips. “what was that? sorry, i couldn’t hear you. something about.. how i’m skilled?”

“i’m not repeating myself.” he snarls, “get your gear, and meet us by the gate. don’t be late.”

he stalls away like an angry child who didn’t get his favourite toy. i chuckle, and walk toward the supply room.

i meet the rest of them by the gate. the line consisted of a few of the rookies—eren, reiner, connie, and jean, and beside them, hanji, erwin and levi, who’s holding the reins to a horse beside him which i suspect is mine.

with a tall chest, i walk toward levi. “i believe that’s mine.”

he spares me one look, before making a tch sound with his lips, throwing the reins toward me.

hanji briefs us a look, before whispering in a not-so-subtle voice, “are you sure it’s a good idea to pair them together? i don’t think the rookies need to hear their bickering all day.”

levi’s head snaps toward them, “we don’t bicker.”

“yeah. he’s just a pain in my ass most the time, that’s all.” i say with a smirk.

he looks to me. “if anything, you’re the thorn in my side. always needing saving, always complaining-“

“uh—! name one time i’ve ever needed your saving. and i don’t complain!”

“uh, let’s see, two days ago?” he deadpans.

“that was not saving—“

“yeah. you definitely don’t bicker.” jean chuckles.

“shut up, rookie!” levi and i say simultaneously. we look to each-other, opening our mouths to speak before erwin cuts us both off.

“today, you two. are you forgetting we have responsibilities? your flirting can wait till later.” erwin says, pulling the reins so his horse turns.

my face heats up. “we’re not flirting!” we say together again.

“stop saying what i say.” levi narrows his eyes.

“you’re saying what i’m saying!”

“you were given an order.” erwin’s voice hardens. erwin wasn’t usually too hard on us, but his patience can only stretch so far before it snaps.

i look down, and mutter a, “sorry, sir.”

he nods, just once. “good. now, we have a mission to get to.”

“yes sir!”

— - approx. one hour later . .

titans were all around us, at every angle. a huge herd just appeared out of no-where while we were travelling to the next way-point, and thank god we happened to be passing through a city.

levi and i were together, like usual, and we had all split up into groups of two. and like usual.. we made it into a competition.

“i bet you two training days i’ll kill more than you.”

“hah—! you got yourself a deal.” levi says, before turning and zipping away from me.

ahead of me were two ten-meter titans—easy money. i press the blade, zipping toward them, manoeuvring away from their hands and slicing my blade across his nape. it falls to the ground with a loud thud, and i lock my line to the second ones nape.

THUD.

. . . five titans later, i had gotten a bit carried away. i didn’t realize i was using so much gas, and that my blades were on their last pair.

shit, shit, shit! is all i can think as i race faster away from the five-meter titan right on my tail. i was dead, so dead. i had run out of gas, and i realised before i could think i had reached a dead-end. my leg is slashed from when i fell, and my run is looking more like a desperate limp.

the titan was closing in on me. i turned, scanning the area for something i could do, but that was it. i was cornered. there was no running.

the titan crouches in-front of me, and for the first time in my life i was truly, rawly scared. the titans never scared me when i was a kid, or a cadet, but now..

the titan’s mouth was curled into a horrifying smile. it’s eyes were bulging, hands and chin covered in blood from a previous city’s massacre.

this was it. as i was lifted off the ground, i accepted my fate. my eyes moved toward the sun. i didn’t want the last thing i’d look at to be it’s face.

huh. i never noticed how warm the sun was. i guess i should’ve appreciated nature a bit more. i would have, if i knew this was the day i was going to die.

it’s mouth opened. i could smell it’s foul breath, smelling of human flesh.

i guess you win, levi. just this once.

SHING!

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF HER!”

SLASH.

i fell to the ground. my back slammed against the pavement, and i cried out in pain. my head was fuzzy, mostly from the fall.

i hear the wind in my ear as i am picked up, and the sound of metal whipping as i’m brought to the roof.

my vision focuses when i am placed down on a roof. oh. it’s levi. he is speaking, but i can’t really hear him that well.

“damnit, damnit!”

his hands are on my face. his eyes are scanning me for injuries. why is he doing that? why does he care..

“fuck, please be okay, REINER, OVER HERE!”

“SAY SOMETHING!”

oh. now i can hear him.

i wince, my eyes fluttering as they focused on levi’s face. no, that can’t be levi.. why is he crying? levi wouldn’t cry.

“what happened?” i register it to be reiner’s voice, and i turn to him. i push myself up, crying out from the pain in my back, my head. i touch my hand to the back of my head, looking at the blood on my fingers.

“it’s alright, it’s nothing, i’m fine—!”

two arms are wrapped around me. clutching me tight. daring to never let go.

levi.. is hugging me.

“god damnit.. you idiot! what were you thinking?!”

“you’re.. hugging me.” i mean to say in my head, but i say out-loud by accident.

he pulls away, grasping my face in his hands. his hands are shaking. “don’t you ever do that again. you hear me?! i’ll give you damn stable duties everyday if you don’t smarten up!”

“i- you— i can’t promise i won’t—“

“nearly killing yourself over a stupid bet, really?! i can’t believe you—“

“levi.”

“out of all the stupid, idiotic, irrational things you’ve done—“

“levi—“

“seriously! if i didn’t get here when i did, you’d have been dead, and over what? an unsettled—“

“LEVI!”

“what?!”

i pant, placing a hand on his shoulder. “stop. fucking. talking.”

he stares at me for a second. then, a smile cracks on his lips. then a laugh. “i love you so fucking much.”

copr. goldessia. do not steal, plagiarize, translate, share on other platforms without credit/permission.

[littledollll]

hey sweetheart :'3 I was wondering if you were taking request. If you are would you be open to do a Lucifer x little angel reader. I just love your little fic if these and I'm always looking for more if them. I think I've read them all tho. So my idea was that maybe Lucifer and reader could have a fight I'll let you decide why. Then reader decide to go hide from Lucy and our favorite god starts panicking and all. Over all just really cute stuff 😊😊💖 Thank you for reading and have a nice day bby💕

The Gardens

Lucifer Morningstars x Little!angel!reader

A/n: man i just hope this is half decent. Got a little motivated to write about this idea when I got the request which made me very excited! I rarely let us see when R isn’t regressed which is kinda the point? But I think insights like this are really fun to write! (May 6)

A/n pt 2.: finishing this July 21 at 3am, where did I go wrong? I’m so sorry I took so damn long it’s insane bc i don’t even notice time passing. I was looking back at my old fics and noticed I’m always writing R going to sleep? I love that cuz some of my friends actually call me “sleepy” because apparently I’m always tired. (I am)

Warnings: a little arguing, Lucifer says some hurtful things, not much else. Just some sweet fluff after the hurt.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

“Im the judge here. I alone decide the punishments and how souls will be handled. You might be my partner but you hold no power over me or hell. These are not your decisions to make or have a say on.” It was an angry spew of words. Lucifer doesn’t like having their authority challenged and you were the one person who could do that. For the first time, your own opinions were voiced in their work, and Lucifer didn’t seem willing to listen or like it at all.

Never in your time living in hell had you and Lucifer clashed about something so much.. it hurt, not to be ironic but it hurt like hell. Lucifer had never spoken to you in such a way. Never before had they used their intimidation tactics on you.

Lucifer being unnecessarily stubborn didn’t help at all, as they refused to actually listen to your opinion or swallow their pride and compromise. Or simply speak to you like an equal. Their words almost stung. “You have no power here.” That’s what they meant. And you couldn’t bear to listen anymore or even respond after that.

After a certain point you just gave up and walked away, leaving whatever they were about to spit back, in the dust, mid-sentence, and then ending up with a confused shocked expression. No one gets to just walk away from The Devil.

The worst part was that you wanted to run to them. As if words and a voice laced with venom hadn’t just been thrown in your face. As if they’d protect you even from their own self. They’ve always been your safe space, your comfort.. but you couldn’t, not today, not after your argument.

At first they were fine with you just walking away. They admit to being stubborn and hard to talk to.. everyone needs a little space to think sometimes, right? But then hours and more hours passed and you still refused to show.. it’s like you were hiding from them. There’s nothing Lucifer hated more than the thought of that. Did they really mess up that badly? That you, the most forgiving and lovely being they’ve ever met, simply refused them?

They couldn’t possibly leave it like that. Let you believe they think regularly of you, like you aren’t the most important being in their life, like you aren’t their special angel. So settling their pride aside accompanied with a bit of anxiety, they set out to find you.

You had gone to your safe space.. hiding away physically and mentally, letting your much calmer but also a lot sadder, little self take control.

Lucifer searched high and low for you, all around the palace, going as far as to actually ask for help looking. And thankfully it occurred in their mind that there was always one place you went when you seek comfort, and that was the little hidden gardens of the palace.

And there you were. Quietly sitting by their most recently planted flowers, daisies in fact. They always claimed those flowers suited you perfectly, not just the look, but the meaning. Which included purity, innocence, new beginnings, joy and cheerfulness. All things they saw in you. All things they loved about you. But of course there’s more, so much more that they love.

“My angel..” their voice was a complete contrast to their earlier attitude. Cautious as they approached you but still with a rush to have you close. Lucifer was unsure you’d ever forgive them, but there was no way you could possibly resent them, maybe you should have, but it wasn’t in your heart to reject them, so you let them approach without scurrying away.

Lucifer got down to your level, kneeling down on the floor and holding their hands out for you, which you immediately took, being pulled into a tight hug, their wings wrapping around you, effectively hiding you from the world just because they knew you loved it so much. They pressed a kiss to your forehead before hugging you close again. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, my sweet angel…”

Not knowing how to respond, you nodded just a little as you nuzzled close to their shoulder, basking in the warmth and comfort of their hug. “I should’ve never said that.. never. And I promise you I didn’t mean a single word of it. I’m.. I’m in no way excusing myself, and my awfully hurtful words- but I’m just not used to this, angel..”

You could understand that.. there’s no being of higher power here in hell, even in the universe actually, no one but them and the very God that created and banished them. They’re not used to being challenged or disagreed with, and ever the sinner they are also quite prideful, even as an angel. “I’ve done this alone for so long.. of course there’s other lords.. and Mazikeen. But not even they step in when it comes to my decisions, and when you did- I felt questioned. Which I recognize should be much more frequent than it is, but it’s a new thing, and I responded very wrongly to it.”

Not for a moment did the soft tone leave their voice, a mere whisper as they hugged you and refused to let go. They’d apologize for eternity if you so requested it. But even in your headspace you could appreciate them taking accountability, and recognizing that it was wrong. Not just that it caused a bad reaction from you. “I’m working on it, I promise. Your opinion does matter to me, In whatever situation, your voice matters to me.”

It hurt, of course it hurt. But Lucifer is always sincere in their word, and they were willing to work together, that’s all that mattered to you. So you quite adorably mumbled out a little, ‘I forgive’, as you rest your chin on their shoulder. And Lucifer couldn’t be happier. “Thank you, my sweet angel.. but also, you can’t hide away from me like that, tiny. You had me running all over the palace looking for you like a maniac!” They said in a more playfully, less serious tone as they chuckled.

“Let’s make a deal, yeah?.. if anything of the sort ever happens again, can I trust that you’ll be in your little room? Even if we’re a little upset at each other I always want to know that you’re safe. I understand needing a moment to decompress and think, that certainly helped me a lot today. But I’d just like to know you’re safe and that we can talk when we’re ready to, how does that sound?” You giggled as their voice took a more playful tone and you nodded, moving away a little to look at them, an adorable little smile painted on your face. “Deals!!” You said, rather excited despite the topic.

Of course you were aware that it was indeed quite possible to run into more arguments and disagreements like this, and even more that you’d slip. But knowing how much they care for you and love you, how much they worry and want you to be safe was quite reassuring that no matter what problems you ran into there wasn’t a thing you couldn’t surpass with just a little talking and cuddles.

They nodded, placing a soft kiss on your temple and deciding just then to take a moment and sit outside with you, which was rare, for reasons neither you or they could quite place. “It’s a deal then..” they replied with a soft tone, and you could hear their smile as they spoke. It was surprisingly quiet, oddly peaceful being out here with you. They scolded themselves for not doing this sooner and made a mental note for next times.

Of course your regression was still a secret and hell can be a dangerous place but the gardens are safe enough, specially with Lucifer and your hound friend who always stayed near. After a few moments, your voice interrupted their train of thought. “luci likes birdies?” The question seemingly came out of nowhere which made them chuckle a bit. “I do. What’s going on in that cute little mind of yours to ask me that, sweet one?” Their tone was obviously amused.

“No birdies in hell! Want one.. like morphi!” It seems your mind was running elsewhere, curiosity of things you always wanted to question but didn’t. “You could have one.. how about a dove? Just like you are my little dove.” Lucifer smiled and placed a little kiss on the tip of your nose, making you giggle and shy away. You were quick to nod and respond with a slight tone of awe. “Dovs pretty!”

“As are you!” Lucifer was never one to make spur of the moment decisions.. well- not at least until you came along. But how could they ever say no to you? The little angel wants a hound and a dove, so let’s get them a hound and a dove. Lucifer sighed, not in an upset manner nor exhaustion. More so in content, amused with themselves for being so susceptible to you. “Well then. Looks like my little dove is getting their own..”

[mikhailwrites]

The fire in your eyes / Ghost x Soap

Kinktober #19 - Uniforms

Military Parades. Everyone hates them. Instead of doing something useful and productive, you need to dress up and march in front of staring crowds. Nobody cares if it’s so hot the road is melting or so cold your eyes are freezing over. However, there might be a silver lining to this one: Johnny fucking MacTavish proudly displaying his Scottish heritage.

I'm writing this at 3AM, terribly sorry if it's even less coherent and has even more mistakes than usual. Btw did you know SAS has its own tartan? Well, now you do.

The door to the rec room opens, Ghost immediately checks them. And has to look away and back again. As if to make sure he’s truly seeing... that. Johnny. In a kilt. Not just the kilt, in fact, the whole getup.

Gaz whistles, eyeing the other Sergeant. “Looking sharp, mate! Got a date? Some pretty bird to impress?”

“Damn right, I do,” Johnny smirks as he momentarily looks at Simon. Oh, he likes to play with fire. But he does look sharp, Gaz is right about that. “But we gotta address the elephant in the room. Ghost in a uniform? What did you bribe him with? And the chest candy, too? Had to be expensive.”

“That would be classified, Sergeant,” Price appears out of nowhere, rivalling Ghost’s namesake. “I hope you boys are ready to make a good impression today.”

“Yes, sir!” they answer him in unison. They don’t have to like parades, but they all understand why they must be at their best.

It all goes smoothly; they’ve rehearsed it, after all, for countless hours. Even the weather takes pity on them and graces the parade with an overcast and reasonable temperature. They march, they do the show, people are applauding, a few are shouting some profanities as if a good portion of the parade doesn’t have a near-death experience. As if they didn’t hear the whistle of a bullet flying way too close to their head.

Ghost keeps his mind carefully clear. He performs as is expected of him, enjoys the fleeting moments he gets to see Johnny and tries not to count passing minutes. Then there’s a hymn, another march, and, yes, finally, they’re free. He needs a drink, as do the rest of One-Four-One. Drink, and then he gets out of the uniform. Every time he catches a glimpse of himself, he startles a bit until his brain catches up. God, he hates this.

As Simon nears the pub they had earlier agreed to meet, there is an unusual amount of noise and ruckus coming from inside—the sound of breaking glass and splintering wood, shouts and thuds. Ghost tags Price standing a little out of the way, leaning against the wall and smoking one of his usual cigars.

“Someone already managed to start a fight?” Simon asks as he comes closer, mildly impressed.

“Uh-huh,” Price nods. “We did.”

Ghost blinks a few times. Alright, he didn’t see that coming. “What happened?”

“Someone insulted Soap’s kilt and, if I got it right, even went as far as to say something about his mother. And you don’t just insult SAS soldier’s mum, do you?” Price asks a wholly rhetorical question. Ghost only nods, but then he looks around the deserted street.

“So, why aren’t you inside?”

“Plausible deniability. If I go there, I’ll have to clean up the mess and employ some disciplinary measures. You know the drill.”

“Want me to sort it out, sir?”

“Please do.”

That’s the only permission Ghost needs. He takes off the jacket, handing it to Price. He might not like it, but he sure as hell doesn’t want to get his measurements taken again for a new one.

It’s an absolute chaos inside. Luckily, Ghost thrives in chaos. He sweeps the pub from left to right, taking a quick and rough account of the situation. Gaz is to his right; two men are holding him up as the third takes a swing at him. It’s not a bad punch, Gaz’s head jerks to the side, blood from the split lip dripping on his uniform. As the assailant prepares for another swing, Ghost intervenes. This is his teammate right here, the man who’s saved Ghost’s life on numerous occasions.

Ghost moves quickly, sliding behind the man’s back and grabbing him by the collar, slamming him into the overturned table. The two blokes holding Gaz up look at Ghost, then at each other. There’s a hint of recognition. They let Gaz go immediately and try to charge Ghost, both of them at the same time. Not a bad thinking.

Ghost dodges one fist aimed at his stomach and trips the man. The other one lands a hit on Ghost’s kidneys. It hurts, but he’s used to pain. However, before Ghost can react, Gaz is there, kneeing the bloke in the stomach before sucker-punching him. Okay, that’s one-half of the job done.

“Where’s Soap?” Ghost barks out loud enough to be heard over the racket.

Gaz looks around. Numerous fights are going on, as is expected. There’s tension and rivalry between the military branches and the units. This sort of gathering is a powder keg. “I don’t…,” Gaz starts, trying to find their other Sergeant. “Oh….”

Ghost follows Gaz’s gaze, and… yeah. Oh.

Soap is lying on the ground, one guy’s neck held between his thighs while simultaneously doing a proper fist-assisted dentistry on another bloke who’s struggling to crawl away. Johnny looks like a rabid dog.

“You gonna need help with him?” Gaz asks, not making even a single move.

“Nah, get out of here, Price is waiting outside,” Ghost shakes his head, loosening his tie, unbuttoning the cuffs of his shirt and tucking the sleeves up.

First, he frees the half-choked bloke before he kicks him further from Johnny. Then he grabs Soap and forces him to his knees, thus letting go of the second guy in the process. Ghost quickly glances at their uniform. Royal Marines. Of course. Ghost almost wants to kick them some more.

Instead, he does the reasonable thing worthy of an officer. He takes Soap and, much to the Sergeant’s protests drags him away. Soap is loud, cursing Ghost in that incomprehensible language of his, but even he isn’t so out of it as to hit Ghost, who also happens to be his commanding officer as well as a partner of sorts.

Ghost pretends not to notice and appreciate the searing heat in Soap’s blue eyes. Johnny doesn’t lose his shit nearly as often as many would think, yet when it does happen, it’s an absolute masterclass of carnage. And Ghost loves it. However, he can’t be thinking with his prick right now. They need to get out before someone with actual power shows up.

The ride back to Hereford is a short and quiet one. They stop at a petrol station and get some ice. Gaz is nursing his split lip and bruised jaw, Soap is pressing a handful of ice on the back of his head, where he claims someone hit him with a chair. He’s bleeding from the shallow cut on his forehead, and his left eye is beginning to swell. He got a thorough beating, but Ghost can’t help but think that he didn’t really save Soap. If anything, he saved those two poor bastards Soap was beating up. The Sergeant would probably eat them alive if someone didn’t stop him.

They get out of the car, Ghost immediately grabbing Soap and dragging him away. Price sighs, and Gaz chuckles.

Ghost is leading them to the barracks, to his room. The door closes, lock clicks in place. Johnny is dirty, bruised and bloody; his uniform is ripped in several places, too. He’s a damn mess, but Ghost has always had some seriously crossed wires. He’s been hard in his trousers for a while, and there’s no way he’s waiting a minute more to do something about it.

“Uh… Listen, LT, I’m sor…,” Soap doesn’t get to finish his apology before Ghost is on him, damn near devouring his mouth while his hand clutches at Soap’s thigh over the thick layers of tartan. Johnny lets out a slightly exasperated laugh as he backs up and falls onto the bed. Ghost follows, never allowing more than an inch of space between them. The new position allows him to reach under the kilt finally. He kneads at Soap’s bare thigh, remembering that he nearly choked a man with it. Fuck!

Ghost quickly undoes his belt and shucks his trousers down under his arse. “Lube,” he growls at Soap because the Sergeant is closer to the nightstand. Johnny does as he’s told, fishing out the bottle and handing it over with the same practised move as if he would hand Ghost a magazine.

“Prep?” Ghost asks, clipped and right down to the business.

“Fuck it, want you in me thirty minutes ago,” Johnny smirks. The fire in his eyes is back now. He didn’t get to rip the Marines apart, but now he might get that anger channelled in a different way.

“Wanted to be in you the moment I saw you in the morning,” Ghost retorts.

“You tell me the sweetest things, Simon. Hurry up!” Soap smiles, licking his lips as he watches Ghost fumble with the lube.

It burns a bit at first, then it hurts a bit more, but Soap is no virgin. Ghost is holding back a great deal, trying to go reasonably slow. Soap groans, but instead of pulling away or making any attempt to stop Ghost, he nudges him closer, whining as he forces himself to take more. Ghost is mesmerised, completely lost in him.

Johnny writhes under him, unable to stay still. Ghost’s prick halfway in is both too much and not enough, and it’s frustrating. Finally, he makes up his mind, hooks his legs behind Ghost’s back and demonstrates just how much strength there really is in his legs.

Ghost gasps and moans, Soap whines, arching his back off the bed, struggling to take a breath for a few seconds. “Christ, Johnny,” Simon wheezes, struggling to control himself and the situation. Scratch that; he doesn’t control the situation at all. Soap does, especially once he adjusts and simply uses Ghost to take what he needs.

Simon doesn’t mind. He would be willing to give this man anything he could desire. Anything at all. Simon would cut out his own cold, cold heart and gift it to him. He would burn down the world. For now, it seems that his cock will suffice.

Soap, for the lack of better words, fucks himself on it, and the kilt, rumpled and tucked up, leaves exactly nothing to the imagination. Johnny shivers as the glistening glans of his hardon rubs against the wool, but Ghost does nothing to help him.

If he did, it would’ve been over way too quickly. Instead, he leverages Soap’s hips, changing the angle significantly. Soap yelps before hissing an ecstatic “Yes!” Soon enough, more words follow. Please and harder are especially frequent, and Ghost does give it to him.

Snapping his hips forward at a punishing pace, he gets a lovely gasp each time he bottoms out. Johnny is clawing at the sheets with one hand and at Ghost’s forearm with the other. Come morning, he will probably look like a wild cat mauled him.

It’s a sweet kind of pain. Johnny will feel him for a few days; it’s only fair Ghost will, too. Simon feels the tension build up inside him; his thrusts are slower but firmer, forcing a breath out of Soap, who looks like half of his mind is wandering elsewhere. Eyes hooded, mouth hanging open, face slack in that special way only a good shag can do.

“’M close,” Ghost warns. Or maybe it’s a promise, what with the way Johnny’s legs hold him tighter, trying to force him deeper. Simon blindly searches around until he finds the lube, pouring a little into his palm before he grips Johnny’s neglected prick. It’s hot and hard, velvety, with prominent veins that make Ghost’s mouth water as he remembers how it feels in his mouth, on the tip of his tongue. How Johnny tastes, how his hand in Simon’s hair feels. Simon cries out, a broken sound of utter relief, as he pumps into Soap with each pulse that wrecks his body, coming inside him for what feels like an eternity but is mere seconds.

His hand slacks, but Soap covers it, tightens the grip and continues to fuck into Simon’s fist with quick, erratic thrusts. He’s close, his breathing ragged, his brow furrowed with desperation and concentration. Simon moans as Soap rides his oversensitive cock.

Even in his post-orgasmic state, Ghost feels the faint rush of excitement as he watches Soap coming undone and, a few seconds later, actually coming, soiling his uniform, jacket, kilt, shirt, all of it. Ghost lets them both breathe for a few seconds before Johnny lets go of his hand; Simon, in turn, let’s go of Johnny’s cock, and brings his hand to his mouth. Johnny makes a small, helpless noise as he watches Ghost lick the cum off his fingers and palm.

Simon collapses on the bed next to Johnny, exhaustion catching up to him quickly.

“You’re beautiful,” Simon whispers, unable to stop himself.

Soap stares at him for a moment before he snorts. “Aye, damn right I am, what with the black eye, all bloodied and bruised.

“You’re prettiest when you’re bloodied and bruised. And angry, I like you angry,” Ghost continues, his filter completely fried. Johnny would probably tease him about it later, but for now, he can say whatever he wants.

[shirohige-pirates]

A Truly Mythological Christmas

Cisfem!Reader x Marco the Phoenix

Also on Wattpad // Ao3

18+ - this story is going to get steamy in ways not allowed for your holiday Lifetime specials. Swearing, cheating, assassins, intrigue - you know, all that simple small town stuff.

Chapter 26: The Zhou Conglomerate

The day after the Christmas celebration, was low energy for all of you. Sabo made coffee for you and Dadan, and you hugged him for being so cute that he started squirming in your arms. You helped the boys make the easiest breakfast you could manage, and did as little as humanly possible. After all the commotion of the party even Luffy was subdued.

You: How’s the manor?

Marco: Half a disaster. We got most of it cleaned up before bed though.

He sends a short video of the long dining table that still needed to be broken down, and the bags of trash needing to be hauled out. A few of his brothers waved blearily as he passed by them, plates and bowls with leftovers for breakfast on them. From the looks of things no one had finished a first cup of coffee, let alone woken up properly.

They had likely all been up until nearly 3am.

You: All that footage, and none of your beautiful face?

Marco: Handsome, maybe.

You: Need an extra set of hands to come help?

Marco: Nah, rest easy pretty bird.

Marco: I’ll be at the store tomorrow, you’re welcome to come help out, or just hang out.

Grinning you type in a sassy response.

You: Decorate your back office, maybe.

Marco: I would risk the store, please don’t tempt me.

“What’s it mean to decorate the back office?” Sabo questions quietly, looking at your phone from over the couch. He’s curious, but also trying to keep Ace and Luffy from hearing.

“With annoying things like wrapping stuff in foil and individually wrapping all his pens.” You lie as smoothly as you possibly can.

Sabo looks around and leans in, his face going pink. “I thought you were talking about adult stuff.”

You laugh, ruffling curly hair that’s destined to be amazing wavy locks one day. It’s good to be reminded that children are dangerously attentive. Ace and Luffy come over to see what you’re laughing about, and you end up pulling the boys into your camera range and sending pictures of the four of you making silly faces. You take a couple dozen pictures before you run them off to put away their gifts, and get their room cleaned up, but you only send a few to Marco.

Your day is a delightful collection of sending texts to Marco, lounging, and helping your mom make dinner. You don’t often spend an entire day in your pajamas, but it felt good to do almost nothing all day.

The next day, after breakfast, you get a phone call from a number that you only knew for sure was from the city. It wasn’t Candy Land’s extension, so you weren’t worried about answering it.

“Hello?” You answer tentatively, wondering who would be calling you from a number you didn’t know, just a couple days after Christmas. It was, at least, not the weekend yet.

“Hello, is this Miss Curly (Y/N)?” The question comes from a cheerful, and professional voice. It’s clear and full of maybe a little too much coffee.

“This is, what can I do for you?”

“Wonderful! My name is Wanda, I was hoping to have a few moments of your time, Miss Curly, my boss is Inuarashi, from the Zhou Conglomerate, and we were hoping we could get your hiring process started, if you weren’t against the idea?”

“Huh? No, I’m not… against it, but I haven’t even been interviewed.” You stammer.

“I mean to take care of most of that over the phone today,” she offers easily. “Interviewing was part of what I wanted to do today. The primary part honestly, since the rest can come after. Mr. Inuarashi and Mr. Nekomamushi just wanted to get things going as soon as they could.”

“I… uh, sure. Sure.” Getting up off the couch you head into Dadan’s den, since her and the boys will know to leave you be while you’re in there. “I’ve had breakfast and coffee, I’m happy to do this as best I can.”

Wanda’s smile comes through her tone. “Perfect. The owners were nearly flooded with letters of recommendation and phone calls on your behalf over the holidays. Coworkers from your previous job, your boss, several small businesses in the city.”

“Letters? Calls? Wha- how?” You sit down in the room, feeling a little disoriented. “Aside from my boss I don’t think anyone else was aware that I was looking for another job.”

“Oh, hm.” Wanda goes silent for a moment. “Well, I… guess the news hadn’t gotten outside the city. But news broke that Charlotte Perospero had been caught with… other people… and that you had broken off the engagement. Katakuri said he was doing everything he could for you.

“Since his mother had gone on quite the public tirade, I think people simply assumed you had also tendered your resignation as well.” She explains. “I know the truth, Miss Curly, and while I am sorry you weren’t able to stay where you wanted, if it isn’t too presumptuous of me to say, I am grateful to know you’ll be joining us.”

“I…she? … Wow. I didn’t know.” You take a moment and Wanda goes quiet. “I… whew. You know, um, if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to make a cup of coffee before we get started.”

“Certainly, you can call me back, or I can simply wait.” Wanda offers.

“Chat with me, if you don’t mind. Whatever you’re comfortable with, tell me about yourself, tell me about the Conglomeration.” You prompt, getting up and heading into the kitchen.

You and Wanda talk for nearly three hours. In that time you make a cup of coffee, a cup of tea, and even get the water you probably needed to be drinking more of. She tells you a little bit about herself, and you share some of yourself in return. She talks about what she likes about the company, and you ask questions to dig a little deeper.

You vent about the issue with Perospero, as much as you’re comfortable doing, and admit that you’re doing much better now than you were before. You love the city, but getting away and getting back to where you grew up had been exactly what you needed.

Eventually you shift to the business of business and start talking about what you would be expected to do, what skills you had, experience and what your accomplishments at your current job were. Wanda gave you some hypotheticals to answers and you asked about the vacation policies and other benefits.

You weren’t too worried about falling into any kind of traps. Wanda was being far too direct, and with everything else in your corner it was silly to worry about such things. A small voice in the back of your head worried you were getting this job on some odd form of nepotism, but if that was the case you’d just have to work even harder when you started.

You even sent Marco some texts while you were talking with Wanda, explaining that you were on the phone with her, and that you weren’t sure when you’d make it to the store.

You: I’ll still be by though.

Marco: I’d say tell her hello for me, but I don’t want you to think I’m trying to win you points.

You: You didn’t say anything to Nekomamushi yourself?

Marco: Nope.

Marco: I first heard of it from Katakuri. After that I was too busy to reach out, and I wouldn’t have even if I could have.

Marco: I know how you would’ve felt.

“Your starting salary is going to be, admittedly, significantly less than what you were making.” Wanda says, her voice dropping. “There are bonuses, however, and it is still competitive.”

“That will be okay.” You assure her. “If I can do my job well, there’ll be room for growth, and I’m okay with that. Candy Land paid well, but… there was a certain level of stress that went along with it.”

“But,” you say after a moment’s pause. “All I mean is that the salary is satisfactory, and the benefits more than make up for it. It works out even better for me, since I intend to travel a little more, and your company gives me leeway to do that by default.”

“Perfect then, the last thing to consider will be your start date.”

You laugh. “You don’t have to step away and deliberate the results of this call with your bosses?”

“They had effectively made up their minds already,” Wanda says kindly. “This wasn’t just a formality, however, since you and I will be working together closely when you start here. This was truly an interview between you and I.”

You look at how long you’ve been chatting easily with her and chuckle softly. “Okay, yeah, I can see how that would mean what it means.” You agree. “Well, I’ll be back on the 4th. I know it’s not a Monday, but starting the 8th would work well for me. It gives me time to ensure things went smoothly while I was gone for so long, and a partial week lets me get the administrative sign-offs and meet and greets done before starting properly the following Monday.”

“We’ll go with that then,” she agrees. “If anything comes up, you can call me and let me know. The number I called from is my personal one, so even if you need to leave a message I’ll get back to you shortly.”

“Fantastic. Well, this is the best way this could’ve gone, so thank you for making my day better Miss Wanda.” You say cheerfully.

“My pleasure Miss Curly, and please, call me Wanda.”

You let her know she can call you by your first name as well, and then end the call.

“Whew.” Letting out a sigh you sink into the chair in the den and enjoy a brief moment to yourself before joining Dadan and the boys for lunch. You text Marco and let him know you’ll be by after you eat, and tell him what the preliminary time line for your start with the company looks like.

Marco: You’ll have a couple days completed before I even get there.

You: Yeah, but I shouldn’t be able to get myself into too much trouble.

Marco: I’m the only trouble you need to get into 😈

You: Aren’t you technically getting into me, trouble?

There’s a long pause before his next reply and it’s just a single heart emoji. You figure you flustered him finally, but when you make it to the store it is jam packed. How he was even able to text you at all was impressive enough.

He’s filling in as a cashier and you’re back to the shelves, organizing, restocking, and directing customers on where to find things. The volume of work made the day go by quickly and you didn’t get a chance to really talk to Marco until the sun had long set.

The next three days were more of the same, though the frenzied flurry of the first day was never quite matched, but by the time you and Marco had any real time to yourselves again it was New Year’s Eve.

[fantomette22]

Ok, let’s hear about your favorite Gehrman and Maria happy AU!!

With pleasure!!!! :D

Ok so for context yesterday I refound this post :

And I was like "hey guys in my happy AU Gehrman could totally get or make something like this for Maria!" And then it spiralled into "oh I completely forgot to explain my bloodborne "happy ending AU" so there it is finally I guess. I think I only share to a couple of persons so far XD (I have a few others many different AU and darker but it isn't for today).

I already did a few drawings in link with it : here, here, here and there. Yeah with the gehrmaria ship involve so pass your way if that isn't your thing.

I did end up making the cottage house of the AU in Minecraft since a few months ago by the way XD I even have a tanner, hunter and a freaking cleric villager who now took possession of the house 😂😭 even Laurence decided to live here now I can't. I would need to redo it I kinda screw up proportions I think. Sadly Minecraft bedrock doesn't offer to put many details. I guess it would be better in the sims? If someone knows a good game to built house (and 19th century one) I'm taking it!

So now about the AU it's kinda an AU of my fic verse who can be consider like an AU as well I suppose (even if I tried to stay as canon complaint as possible in this one). Like you can guess from the name Yharnam doesn't became hell on earth and most people don't end up dying horribly. I will copy paste below the summary so you I can explain it better.

Bloodborne happy/good ending AU Summary :

Basically after bloodborne game event (in my fic verse interpretation) our dear baby squid good hunter decided it was rewind time and give everyone a 2nd chance. Don't ask me how

Then it's not clear but either the souls of everyone were taken and yet back in their old self, decades earlier of if people from the past dreamed of the future or a weird mixt of both. But it's what happened. Decades before the game invent (Byrgenwerth era) people started wake up and remember events that haven't happen yet + message from the new great one that they were giving a 2nd chance to make things right etc. It feels like a very strange dream but they knew it was real. Some people remember more than other and they especially remember their own future and they lived/are gonna live+ a couple of other things in game event for exemple.

Now it's up to them to not make the same mistakes and make things right.

So imagine it’s like 2-3am at Byrgenwerth, everyone wake up from well this dream/ nightmare and they basically remember everything that happened to them. So you haven hundreds of people outside in their pyjama. Crying, hugging, and some almost throwing hands with others 💀 quite emotional. I know it’s pretty crazy (i don’t have everything settle yet)

*Yeah you have people who were basically bestie at the time almost punching each other because one betrayed the other years later lol and people who didn’t like each other at Byrgen but become friends way later are hugging and crying. Some people were really confused xD like the one who die earlier on the timeline or weren't very important or just leave this mess early.

So of course you have Laurence & Gehrman crying and holding each other in pyjama in the middle of the dark campus. Then Maria show up in the distance 👁️👁️  it’s even more of an emotional reunion.

So you have this 2 idiots then Maria show up in the distance, they’re stunned and then Laurence tells him « what the hell you’re waiting for just go!!!» so he runs extremely fast (maria too) and they stop a few meters away from each other just staring. Then he tried to apologize says he’s sorry for everything. « YOU’RE SORRY?! » she’s kinda mad and sad about everything that happened she kinda hit him but he is surprise it’s not that hard then she hugs him and they hug each other and cry. (Yeah the Doll is discuss a bit later it's all good)

At some point Laurence try to eclipse himself and Maria’s like « you fucking stay here! » because she have things to say to this dumbass too.

So everyone reunite and all. With Caryll/ Rom/ Ludwig etc.They are hugging and all and then you have like Damian trying to kick Mico’s ass and nobody stopping him XD

Also Charles and Laurence threw hands 💀it’s a mess.

*People who’re not suppose to be very friends at this era are in each other arms and some bff are like throwing hands.

Then Willem show up and tell everyone to shut up and calm down 😂

Charles and Maria later go to Cainhurst to hug all their family who slightly remember all the shit too. And so it don’t cause a war again as well 😂 because they're kinda salty about their nightmares were the church + executioners killed them.

Anyway they all kinda calm down and some times later they’re all reuniting by Willem & Laurence because we need to talk about what the hell happened. « Yep that was real » now time to change it. 

After this mess and discussing what the hell happened and « we need to changed things! » they need to make a big plan how to avoid the fishing hamlet pb and save the orphan. they also can't just not use blood because it does save lives so it's quite complex.

So years later (because the beginning of it during like Maria, Ludwig, Caryll & Rom's hm 3rd of 4th years of university) they manage to make sure the hamlet don't became fishmen, and help Kos give birth (she isn't dead yet but her physical body do die afterwards). And baby orphan is fine and taking care off 👍

Then it's party time 😎 Well they still have things to take care of but I didn't thought of all the details yet. So Maria & Gehrman officially get together 🎉 (never really happened in my main interpret, it's complicated) and some times later travel between Yharnam and other places to help people around (to put it shortly).

THEN they buy a house next to a forest and a small village and live there for some time, maybe start a family etc (see the drawing with the baby!! I won't get into all the family detail today through). So they got the cottage/country house ✨

How they found it? Well funny story one day old hunters were on the mission (not the happy au but fic verse) and the mayor leave the house to them so they could sleep for a few nights and Gehrman really liked the house and even made a deposit for it for a few years if one day he wanted to buy it XD

Then after some time they accidentally adopt a lil dog too (before the huge white wolfhound years later) XD

Something like this. Need to find a name for this lil guy.

And recently I've been thinking a cat could be cool too. A really fluffy one

I made those 2 other sketches last year in link with the AU as well. I never share those so there it is.

And I have a fic planned (1-2 chap max for now), an entire summary, a chapter plan and even a few sentences written for this AU in particular. But idk when I could write it. And I could even have 2 versions depending the rating @_@ so maybe one day...

So yeah it's a bit messy but it's all the fluff & some other things I need. And that's it for now!

[seabysiren]

Listen I need more of the streamer au👁️👄👁️, it’s pure gold. Like are the rest of the 141 team streamers too, what about Los vaqueros. What if they form like content creator house, could you imagine the absolute chaos😭

that's what I wanted the end goal to be. unite the 141 avengers style. having our dear reader as the editor and main camera man when they start doing more in person vlogs and videos.

this may be content like exploring a haunted house at 3am in the morning! soap and gaz scared out of their minds! simon firmly doesnt believe in ghosts. johnny and gaz on the other hand... are screaming and running away at any sudden noise. you and price often stand in the dark waiting for the two idiots to approach and scaring the living daylights out of them. simon who stands in a room of what used to be a child's nursery. grimacing from the dust and gently handling the toys left with respect. even if there was no 'ghost', he respects the area and where the child had been thought to have passed away from neglect. you who just slowly walks away from the group to do your own thing. you catch doors slamming by themselves. the blue bouncy ball rolling back to you despite you throwing it away a few moments ago. you just go. nope. 'i respect you ghost dude. but like, not today.' funnily enough, the ghosts stop when you ask them to. you eventually show the feed to soap and gaz who are freaking out and shaking you back and forward. why would you do that? what if you got haunted? what if you brought the ghost back with you????

que coming back at like noon to the hotel. soap and gaz are absolutely exhausted with all the screaming and messing around they did. price just seems overall unnerved, and ghost doesn't care. he just wants to go to sleep... and possibly share the bed with you so he can hold you close and cudde-

i mean wait what? or like homemade cooking with the Los Vaqueros, Alejandro and Rodolfo. simon absolutely getting destroyed by all the spices because british food is bland af.

you had hinted at alejandro and rodolfo that simon and soap may not have that good of a spice tolerance. that was a mistake because you saw them dump a lot of red, spicy smelling herbs in when soap and ghost weren't looking.

the food they made was absolutely amazing. tamales. chile rellenos. and a spicy chicken soup (chilate de pollo). soap absolutely butchering the names because he does not, in fact, speak spanish. you smack him upside the head for that. ghost is surprisingly quiet when he eats the food. soap is howling in the background for milk, gaz is laughing at him and price is just silently enjoying his food.

ghost's face gets surprisingly red. but he doesn't complain. even goes for seconds. but when the kitchen is cleared after cleaning everything up. you see him sitting down with a carton of ice cream, digging it straight out with a spoon.

(his favorite ice cream is vanilla bean.) soap and gaz making everyone have a pretty princess remake <3. forcing everyone, including price, who just signs and drinks out of his flask of whiskey, to paint their nails and wear dresses and stuff. the reader actually getting beat behind scene because they don't have to get a makeover... that is until simon locks them into a chokehold because he wants to see you all dolled up too :))

they all gossip about each other. telling embarassing stories. stories about ghost's initial confusion about streaming. all the works. the content creator house is a mess. but its a found family that all the viewers love to see.

[7ndipity]

Anchor

Taehyung x Reader

Summary: When it feels like everything is drifting away, Taehyung's there to help ground you.

Warnings: reader's dealing with a depressive episode, not proofread

A/N: I didn't mean to dissappear for nearly a week again, but I'm back now with comfort fluff because we all need it sometimes💜

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

There wasn't anything necessarily wrong, you were just having one of your "low days", as you'd come to refer to them. You could feel it setting in as soon as you'd gotten up that morning; your limbs heavier than usual and your mind in a fog that made everything feel far away, as if you were adrift in a sea of numbness.

Usually, you tried to just ride these moods out quietly on your own, but as the day turned into night, and your mind inhibited your ability to sleep, you inevitably found yourself messing around online to pass the time and distract yourself.

You didn't know how long you'd been scrolling when a notification popped up from one of the only people who could make you smile on days like this.

Tae: "Hey"

You: "Hey."

Tae: "Facetime?"

You: "Sure."

You'd barely pressed send before your phone began to buzz, Tae always too impatient to wait for your answer when he already knew the answer would be yes.

"Why are you still awake?" You asked as soon as you picked up, noting that it was nearly 3am.

"I should be asking you that." He responded, looking cozy as usual with his messy hair and oversized hoodie. "I hadn't heard from you today."

You hesitated, trying to find an appropriate response, if any existed.

"Y/n?"

"Yeah, sorry, things have just been kinda... eh." You said flatly.

He watched you for a moment, catching how your eyes shifted away even through the screen. He wasn't a stranger to your depressive moods, so it wasn't difficult to read between the lines. "Want me to come over?"

"What? No, why?"

"You're sad." He said.

"I'm not sad, I'm just..." You trailed off again, struggling to explain.

"I'm doing it anyway. See you in a bit." And with that, he hung up leaving you staring at a blank screen.

You had scrambled around, trying to straighten up you place and make yourself look vaguely presentable, before there was a knock at the door, which you opened revealing him, still in his sweats and carrying several bags.

"What's that?"

"You're upset, so I brought snacks." He explained, pulling out some of your favorites and taking a seat on the couch.

"Ttokbokki?" You asked surprised. "You don't like spicy food?"

"No, but you do." He smiled before smacking the cushion next to him. "Now sit."

The two of you ate and talked for a bit, avoiding whatever was bothering you. He knew that when you were ready to talk about it, you would, but your unusually quiet demeanor still bothered him, standing abruptly and turning to face you.

"Dance with me."

"What?" You looked up at him, dumbfounded.

"Dance with me." He repeated, extended his hand to you.

"Tae, you know I can't dance." You said.

"C'mon, please?" He begged, giving you his signature 'tete face.'

You sighed. Why could you never say no to him?

You placed your hand in his, and he quickly pulled you up and to him, spinning the two of you in slow, swaying circles as he hummed softly to supply a tempo to follow.

Rested your head against his shoulder, you let your eyes slip shut, feeling more present than you had all day, a few tears threatening to fall without your consent.

He glanced down at you when he felt the moisture land on his skin. "Hey." He stopped, dropping his hold in order to wipe your cheek. "What's going on?"

"You're just- thank you." You managed.

"For what?"

"Being here for me. Being you." You sniffed.

He gave you a small grin. "My pleasure."

You scoffed. "Sure."

"It is." He insisted.

"Sitting up at three am while I blubber into your shirt is your idea of a good time?" You questioned.

"If it makes you feel better, it is." He said, pulling you into a tight hug. "I don't care what for, or what time of day, anytime you need me, I'll be there, happily."

You sniffled, tucking your face back against his neck.

"Thank you." You whispered again, grateful that he was always there as your anchor, keeping you from drifting to far away from home.

[cumulativechaos]

@scarrletmoon thanks for the tag! this was a fun way to make the slower hours of work pass quicker

3 ships

three ofmd ships bc the grip this show has on me is insane. three ed ships specifically bc he’s my most beloved babygirl

ed/stede (otp of all time)

ed/frenchie (rarepair white whale)

ed/the crew (not enough fics abt ed getting to be the specialest princess at the bimonthly crew orgy)

first ship

ok so im gonna be real. i think my first ship ever was simba/nala from the lion king but specifically as portrayed by me via my stuffed animals. and i had an actual child simba stuffed animal but the toy i used for nala was not actually nala. i don’t think it was even a lion like it was some sort of black and white spotted cat thing. maybe a leopard?? idk.

alternative answer: my first-ever OCs and by OCs i mean the personalities i invented these two webkinz

every time i reminisce about my childhood i get blown away by the fact that i’m not more of a furry

last song

i genuinely can’t remember when the last time i deliberately listened to music was and yes i’m aware this makes me sound insane. in my defense i get easily overstimulated if i play music while i’m tired and i’ve been exhausted for months on end.

i guess i’ve had casual by chappell roan stuck in my head for a few days so let’s go with that

last movie

deadpool & wolverine babeyyyyyy! very fun movie to see in the theaters with. My Father

currently reading

various ofmd fics and also hitchhikers guide to the galaxy and also bunny by mona awad

currently watching

ummm nothing atm but i did finish rewatching gravity falls a few weeks ago. good show 👍

currently eating

uhhhhh well i’m gargling salt water rn bc my throat feels gross but idt that counts as eating. last time i ate food was a few hours ago when i had buffalo garlic knots + a slice of cheese pizza i put some of the buffalo garlic sauce on, courtesy of my boss who ordered delivery for us for no reason. eating this at 3am was probably a mistake, i have shit like 4 times since then.

current craving

i want to go to bed. so badly. god i hope i can clock out by like 7:30 today that would be soooooo so so sexy. fingers crossed that shift change report doesn’t take 8thousanf years like it did two days ago

tagging: nobody bc it is 6am and i can’t think of people. if u want to do this u can reblog it from me i’m giving u permission even if i have no idea who you are