#i have like three posts i need to get done and have up by like friday

[happilyjules]

Soul-Mates Part 3

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

SoulBond!AU

Pairings: Saja Boys x F!Reader

Synopsis: You're the soul-mate to the Saja Boys, destined for each other. Legend has it that if a demon is able to find their soul-mate, and solidify that bond, then they might gain their lost soul back. That’s if other demons don’t kill you first.

Warnings: Soul Bond with Saja Boys, Angst, Mild Language, more to be added later

A/N: Posted on A03 thought Tumblr might like to read it as well. I'll update as often as i'm able, but I do have a chronic illness that can take away my days. Goal is to have multiple parts posted in one week. Enjoy!

_______________________________________

Chapter 3 - Perfect Timing

The Saja Boys

“She’s asleep,” Mystery says from his position outside your window. 

“How can you tell?” Abby asks, head against his forearm, unable to tear his gaze from your still form. 

“Her breathing has deepened and evened,” Mystery answers. “She was thinking of us.”

“I could feel the tug on the bond,” Romance says to Mystery’s left. “It’s deepening.”

“It hurt her today,” Baby says, from the back of the group. “You saw that.”

“Only when she was denying it,” Jinu explains. “Give her time, the bond will solidify and soon she’ll be ours.”

“I’ve waited centuries to find her, and she’s perfect.” Abby grins. “Did you hear the way she played today?”

“The most beautiful sound I think I’ve ever heard,” Romance dreamily sighed..

“She calmed the voices,” Mystery said, watching as you turned over in your sleep, tugging the blanket down so your breasts were barely hidden. 

The group collectively took a breath. “She’s breathtaking,” Jinu says. “But we can’t stay here watching her all night.”

“Why not?” Abby asks. “She needs us close. You said it yourself, the bond could hurt her if we’re not close.”

“No, I said it hurts her when she denies it,” Jinu clarifies. “As long as she doesn’t deny it, it’ll be a thrum beneath her skin pulling her towards us.”

“And we’re sure she’s the one?” Baby asks, even as their own bond pulls towards you.

“I am,” Mystery says. “She’s our other half.”

As the moon moves across the sky no one makes a move to leave from your window until the sky begins to lighten for a new day. 

You 

I’m Gonna show you how it’s Done Done Done, Huntrix don’t quit, plays over your phone, telling you it’s time to wake up. Turning off the song, you stretch, waking up your muscles. You catch the time as you sit up; you have just enough for your morning run before you have to head to work. 

Running has always been cathartic for you, a repetitive routine easy to get lost in. Today something felt off though. That tugging sensation in your chest never quite settled down after waking up; more of a silent constant thrum pulling you this way and that. You took an antacid before going on your run, but something in the back of your mind is really starting to worry it might be something more. Just as you hit mile three, you turn around to head home. The noise of the streets, people bustling this way and that is a pleasant buzz to your mind until you pass a billboard with the Saja Boys smiling faces looking down at you. 

Catching your breath, you can’t help but look at it for a while, taking time to trace every feature on high display. How have these boys gotten so huge in only a matter of days? You think. Why can’t I get away from them? And why don’t I want to?

 Forcing yourself to run past the billboard, you quicken your pace back home. 

Upon arrival you realize you took a bit too long. Nearly late for work, you shower quickly and tie up your hair as you rush out the door.

“Shit shit shit,” you say, grabbing your purse before hurrying downstairs; maybe if you run you can make it on time. 

In your hurry you nearly miss him. Luckily you don’t. 

“Need a ride, sweetheart?” Romance asks, leaning against a black sleek BMW. 

“Yes,” You breathe, so relieved you don’t even think to question how and why he’s alone waiting outside your building. 

“Hop in,” he smiles, opening your door. 

“You are a life-saver, Romance. Thank you so much,” you slide into the front seat. 

“To Baek Ri Hyang, I assume?” Romance asks, starting the car. 

“Yeah.” You breathe out another sigh of relief. “Seriously, thank you for this. I lost track of time this morning, and without you I’d be really cutting it close.”

”You should take my number,” he casually offers, “In case this ever happens again. I’d be happy to lend a hand.”

”I’m good," you decline. Suddenly something in your chest rends painfully, leaving you breathless. You double over in your seat, hissing through your teeth. 

“(Y/N) are you okay?” Romance voice is laced with concern, placing a hand on your back. 

“I’m fine,” you take a few deep breaths, willing the pain to subside.

”Are you sure you should be working today?” Romance asks. 

“Yes,” You nod. You can’t afford to lose a day's wage. 

Out of the corner of your eye you notice him chancing looks over you even as he drives, or maybe you’re hoping he’s chancing looks at you. 

“Take my number, and if something happens call me and I can come get you,” Romance says. Glancing up again, you can see a gentle frown on his expressive face, the concern you heard before plain as day. 

“I should be fine really,” you insist, even as the pain starts returning. “Okay okay,” you breathe. 

What the hell is going on? You think, realizing Romance might be right. But you need to work, and surely you’ve worked through worse before. In a compromise, you finally nod.”I'll take your number and call if I need.” 

After putting his number in your phone, you pause a moment before raising the device to face him. “Smile.”

”What are you doing?” He concedes, sparing a moment to glance over at you before putting his eyes back on the road. 

“I need a picture of you for my phone,” you say, completing his contact card. “Thank you for this. I mean to say that I’m usually really good at being on time. This is just a one off thing.” You notice his free hand on the stick-shift, and suddenly you have to fight the urge to reach out and hold it.  Get a grip, he’s just being nice. 

“Thanks again for taking me to work. I hope it wasn’t an inconvenience or anything,” you say, unable to keep your eyes to yourself. 

“Happy to do it, Sweetheart. What made you so late this morning then?” Romance asks, mercifully allowing you both to move on from your strange fit.  

“I took a bit too long on my run,” you answer, not admitting to the five or so minutes you spent staring at their billboard. “Oh, I did see your billboard while I was out. Congrats, you guys are really blowing up.” 

“Thank you,” he smiles, sending your stomach flip-flopping. After a moment you realize the car has pulled to a stop. “Here we are, sweetheart, Baek Ri Hyang.”

”Thanks again, Ro,” you use a nickname without really thinking about it. “I’ll find a way to repay you. Promise.”

”I’m sure you’ll think of something, (Y/N),” he says. “Have a good day at work.”

”Bye,” you step out of the car, giving him one last wave before heading inside. 

In the employee area, you take a second to send Romance a quick text. “This is (Y/N) <3.” Should I have said more? Should I not have included the heart emoji? 

Before you have time to overthink the text, the lunch rush pulls you in, making thoughts of a pop idol acting as your personal taxi service fall to the back of your mind. 

Hours later, you’re wrapping silverware when your coworker comes over, grinning. “Was that Romance from the Saja Boys who dropped you off?”

”Um,” you start, unsure how to answer. This feels personal. You aren’t ashamed of Romance, or of knowing any of the boys, but this feels different. A part of you wants to keep whatever relationship is building with them private for as long as possible. 

”Yes it was.” You say, deciding lying would only lead to more problems. 

“And how do you know him?” She asks, grabbing your arm. “I can’t get their song out of my head, My Little Soda Pop! Oh, and did you see his cheek bones?” She swoons next to you. “He is gorgeous.”

”I suppose so,” you allow, feeling a growing distaste for this coworker. 

“‘Suppose so?’” She proclaims. “Have you not seen them? My personal favorite is Jinu. Those eyes! That smile. I could drown. Do you know him? Jinu?”

”Uh…” You start, completely blanking on what to say. Thankfully a large group walks through the door at that moment. Saved, you breathe, putting on your customer service persona. “Welcome to Baek Ri Hyang, how many will be dining with us today?” 

One eight hour shift later, you wave goodbye to your coworkers, before heading out the back door. Taking in the cool spring evening air, you begin walking home. Putting on your headphones, you notice you have a new text message from Romance. 

“Hello sweetheart, do you need that ride home from work?” 

Grinning, you feel your heart swoon. You consider taking him up on his offer. The desire to see him again washes over you, but the night is perfect for a walk home. Maybe with a long stroll you might be able to figure out what is going with your life. “Thank you, but I’m going to walk home. The night air is too beautiful not to enjoy.” 

Putting on your favorite playlist, you begin the walk home. You’ve made this same walk countless times, even during this time of night, and you’ve never been frightened. Tonight though, as you take your usual shortcut down a familiar alley, something changes. The night seems to get darker, and you swear the alley got longer.  

Trusting your instincts, you take out your headphones. 

“Hello? Is anyone there?” 

Nothing, but you cannot shake the feeling that someone, or something, is following you. 

A deep voice, almost growl, speaks from around you, nearly making you stumble. “Now what do we have here?”. 

Looking around for whomever spoke, you cannot find anyone. Picking up the pace, you reach into your bag for your mace. Great, this is what I get for not accepting a ride. You think, trying to calm your rushing heart. 

You look around, spinning in place. Despite not seeing anyone, you can tell there’s someone here. “I have mace.” You call, heart in your throat. 

Hands suddenly grab your shoulders, slamming you into the wall. Fear threatens to overwhelm you as you take precious seconds to catch your breath. You can’t panic, panicking will not help.  

“You don’t look like much to me,” the same voice taunts in your ear, too close for you to get a good look at the speaker. “I wonder what they see in you?” 

“Why don’t you let go and find out,” you whisper, using the momentary pause to knee your attacker in the groin, following it up with a spray of the mace to the eyes. Taking off down the alley, it didn’t take long for heavier footsteps to follow.

“Fucking bitch!” 

Refusing to look back, you run as fast as your legs can go. When did this alley get so long? You think, finally running out into the street lights. Pausing to breathe, you notice you've reached the strip mall from yesterday. 

“Ma’am are you okay?” A nearby security guard approaches from their post. 

“I’m fine,” you let out a shaky breath. “But a-a-a guy, was,” you point back down the alley. “He wanted- He nearly.” Air, you needed air. 

“Ma’am have a seat,” the security guard says in an effort to calm you, while leading you to a nearby bench. “Breath into your hands like this.” He said, holding his hands together. 

Not being able to breathe, you take his advice. Tears threaten to fall at the thought of what could have happened to you back there. He was bigger than you, and nearly faster than you. What if you didn’t have your pepper spray? What if he was faster than you? What if you kept your headphones in? 

A familiar deep voice, steady, like an anchor in turbulent waters.”Y/N)?”

“Baby?” 

You look up to see the mint-haired boy standing over you. 

“Oh thank god.” You immediately wrap your arms around his neck, letting yourself fall into his arms. 

“I got you,” his grounding voice spoke softly in your ear. “You’re safe.” 

In this moment, you didn’t care how or why he got there. At this moment, you need him. You need to feel his strong arms holding you together, telling you that you were in fact safe. 

“Angel, I need you to breathe,” Baby said, pulling back to press your foreheads together. “Breathe with me.” He takes a deep breath, and you attempt to repeat it. “And out,” he whispers, watching you try to follow. It takes a number of tries but you finally begin to feel the panic subside. 

“There we go,” he praises, wiping your tears away.   

“Thank you,” you whisper, swallowing. 

“Ma’am,” the security guard gently cuts in. “We checked the alleyway, but couldn’t find anyone.”

”Thank you for checking,” Baby says, keeping one arm around you, the other reaching to shake the guard's hand. 

“Take care of her,” the guard says with a nod. 

“I will,” Baby assures, turning back to you. “I’m going to drive you home.”

”Okay,” you agree. “I think I dropped my mace.”

”I’ll buy you new mace,” Baby said with a reassuring smile, leading you to his car. 

[smokebombsandspotlights]

🏁💿 "Paddock Princess Energy" 💿🏁

Formula 1 Grid x Reader (Platonic) ft. chaotic Gen Z female driver!reader, lots of slang, many confused men Word Count: 794 (this is part 1 of a multi-post fic adding up to 10k+ words!) 🧃 genre: platonic, humor, team bonding, slow build 📎 tags: gen z reader, reader is a driver, chaos, confused F1 drivers, gen z slang, lulu bag supremacy, baggy outfit energy, reader has a mouth on her, no romance, found family vibes 🎧 rec song while reading: "Cool Girl" - Tove Lo

🏎️ CHAPTER 1: “YOLO and Other Racing Strategies”

where Y/N shows up to the paddock dressed like she’s headed to a thrift store run, and the grid realizes they don’t have Google Translate for Gen Z.

"Y/N."

You don’t look up from your phone, thumbs moving way too fast for a normal human. TikTok brain had fully rotted your attention span, and you weren’t mad about it. You were chilling on a bean bag in your team’s hospitality tent — baggy cargos, massive graphic tee that said “SLAY MODE: ACTIVATED,” and your trusty black Lululemon crossbody slung across your chest like a seatbelt. Even your headphones were shaped like little cat ears.

Carlos Sainz blinks at you. “Are you listening?”

“Bro. I am listening. I’m literally absorbing your vibes through osmosis,” you reply, taking a sip of your iced matcha. “You just gotta trust the process.”

Carlos gives you the most Spanish™ look possible. "That means nothing."

“Okay boomer,” you mutter.

“…I’m literally 30.”

—

Your F1 debut was one for the books.

You were the first female full-time driver on the grid in years, a prodigy snatched out of F2 after doing one (1) illegal double overtake that made the entire internet scream. The media called you "electric." Fans called you “iconic.” Your engineers called you “a walking headache but somehow effective.”

The other drivers? Still trying to figure you out.

—

🧃 paddock fit check:

Baggy light-wash jeans that hang off your hips like you're from a 2003 Avril Lavigne music video

Huge tee that says “Hot Girl Lap Times”

Lulu bag. Always.

Headphones on. Music: Doja Cat or a random sped-up TikTok edit of a 2000s emo song

Lip gloss poppin’

Phone charged. Posts like “me n my intrusive thoughts 💅”

And your signature: three tiny silver rings and nails painted black with sparkles

—

"Y/N, please tell me you’ve done your track walk," Lando says, eyebrows drawn tight as he stares at your legs — which are definitely crisscrossed on the floor like you’re at a sleepover, not a GP.

You blink. “Oh babes, I touched grass. I just didn’t, like, study the grass. Y’know?”

“I don’t,” Lando replies honestly.

“You don’t need to memorize the turns,” you shrug. “Just manifest the apex. Visualize the drip. Slay the lap.”

Pierre chimes in from behind his phone: “I feel like I need subtitles.”

“Facts,” Logan mutters.

“Wait wait wait,” you say, standing up and adjusting your Lulu bag like it’s holding state secrets. “Are y’all telling me you don’t drive by vibes?”

They all stare at you.

Kimi Antonelli looks terrified.

—

📱Live Stream Highlight: “Y/N Explains the Grid”

user: @slaymodey/n caption: “u ever look at a group of men and realize ur the only one with a braincell”

“You guys, I’m gonna say it. Charles is the main character, but he’s also an NPC. It’s the duality.”

Charles (off-camera): “What does that mean!?”

“Oscar is giving ✨youngest child who got ignored✨ energy. Like someone hug him.”

Oscar (somewhere behind you): “I don’t need a hug??”

“George is definitely the kind of guy who answers emails with ‘per my last message.’”

George: “Oi!”

“Max is just...a cat. Like he would knock over your water glass and then say it was your fault.”

Max, deadpan: “That’s because it was your fault.”

—

🏁 Pre-Race: Grid Walk

Martin Brundle approached you with a mic and a raised brow.

"Y/N, how’s it feel being the youngest and most unbothered person out here?"

You grin. "Martin, I’m just here so I don’t get fined."

"Right. So, how’s the car handling this weekend?"

"It’s giving… banana peel on Mario Kart. But like, we move."

Martin stares at you.

You stare back, biting your lip to hold in a laugh.

"Anyway shoutout to my fans, my iced matcha, and to the people in my DMs pretending to know about tire strategy. Love y’all."

—

🛠️ Post-Race Debrief

"Y/N," your race engineer sighs. "We really need to work on your radio comms."

“What do you mean ‘too casual’?” you reply. “I was just describing the understeer as ‘a lil bit sketchy, not gonna lie.’ That’s descriptive!”

“You also said the car felt like ‘a sad shopping cart at Target.’”

“I stand by that,” you say, crossing your arms. “It did.”

—

📩 Team Group Chat: “y/n’s 2 fast 2 slay”

Fernando: Y/N, why did you just send a pic of your helmet on a cat Y/N: aesthetic. Carlos: please focus Y/N: I am focused on the ✨vibe✨ George: I’m begging you to speak English Y/N: ok mr. per-my-last-email Charles: I am scared but also impressed Y/N: thanks bbg 😌 Logan: i’m deleting WhatsApp Max: good. do it. Yuki: wait i like the cat pic Y/N: SEE?? yuki gets it 😤

—

to be continued…

[besidesjustmyamour]

"if you want something done right, do it yourself."

in which you're pregnant and tired and ask them to do something then do it yourself.

tw: pregnancy, talk of losing the baby

inspired by this post

with g.satoru, n.kento, choso, f.toji, g.suguru, r.sukuna

satoru gojo was soooo glad that you were pregnant. it just came with so many bonuses. it was like after wife-ing you up, he had just unlocked the newest and greatest upgrade.

which was just as well. some new features included: staying in bed late and waking up whining for cuddles, wearing his shirts around the house with barely anything on underneath, and so much more.

but the best part was being able to flaunt it to others.

"did ya hear?" "yes, gojo." "my wife's pregnant." "we know. you told us three minutes ago." "okay... you could be a little happier for me." "honestly? i'm done being happy for you every time you tell me that your goddamn wife is pregnant. i'll be happy for her instead."

satoru gojo didn't expect the conversation to go like that. but either way, he was excited to be a father. more than that, though, he was excited for you to get into the tired phase.

dubbed the worst phase by all mothers. he had researched it online.

"'fellow hubbies, be warned.'" "satoru, put the computer down." "'once in the third trimester, your wife will be unable to do anything herself. you will have to help her into the shower, help her onto the toilet, and even help her get dressed.'" "so help me i will strangle you---" "i just want to be prepared. although you don't sound very tired." "that's because i'm always tired around you. you exhaust me." "i enchant you." "enchant yourself. preferably to sleep. it's three in the morning."

satoru gojo was still waiting for that, even a week before the baby was born. but you never asked for help. never asked anything more than what was needed.

he just wanted to baby you. to coddle you. to wrap you up in a blanket and never let you go. all you had to do was let him.

and the day you finally relented?

"saaaaaaaaaatoooooooooruuuuuuuuuu." "yes, my beautiful wifey?" "help me move the couch." "hey, sit down! the doctor said you shouldn't be moving around as much anymore." "the doctor said i should also remove all stress inducing stimuli from the nearby environments. but you're still here, aren't you?" "ouch. that hurts." "help me move the goddamn couch." "okay, okay, fine."

satoru gojo felt proud when you stepped back. less proud of the glare you shot him when he kicked it and it flew to the side by a few feet. he had grinned at you and you had slumped into the cushions, satisfied with the new angle facing the television.

but one night, he was out late running errands and was catching up with a friend. your texts buzzed at his phone, sudden and sharp.

"sorry, give me a sec. my pregnant wife's calling me."

when he heard that you were trying to move the couch again, by yourself? he dropped the conversation with his old friend and nearly crashed into a car on the drive home.

when he opened the door, panting and his jacket slipping down his shoulders, he caught you. your eyes locked with his.

"this... isn't what it looks like." "did you seriously move the couch across the entire living room?" "i wanted a new angle to watch she-ra and the princesses of power! i've watched that show the same way, like, at least three times." "how about you just watch a new show instead of straining yourself?" "are you... mad?" "you could've seriously hurt yourself, baby. or the baby, actually." "satoru---" "promise me you'll never do something like that again. without my help." "babe---" "promise." "... i promise." "good. now sit back down. i want my cuddles."

kento nanami truly was excited. not that he ever showed it. excited for the new beginnings. to live in your new house, with you in it. to shower you with all his love and adoration, now that you were getting closer and closer to your due date.

he had even taken time off of work. his colleagues couldn't believe it.

and frankly, neither could he.

"you're... staying home. like, seriously." "yes." "for real? you won't come back halfway through the week and ask for any jobs?" "no." "wow, nanami. you're a changed man. what happened?" "it was either take care of my wife or come here. the choice is apparent."

kento nanami didn't mean to make him cry. his intentions were pure. well, aside from wanting to flaunt that he had a loving wife waiting for him at home while the rest of the workforce went home to empty houses.

but that didn't matter. all that did was getting prepared for the baby.

"article one says it should happen around the sixth to eighth week. but article two is more specific on which day." "ken, you're overthinking this. i'll be tired when... when i get tired!" "but what if something's wrong? we should head back to the doctor and---" "ken. listen to me. it's going to be fine. now shut up and let me get some sleep."

kento nanami didn't want to do that. all he really wanted to do was take care of you and shower you in all the adoration he had missed out on during his time at work.

the day you asked for his help was honestly majestic.

"ken kenny kensington kennedy---" "what is it, dear?" "good! help me move these boxes to our room." "the... the boxes?" "these have been here since we moved in! i figured it was about time i started unpacking all my stuff." "okay, okay, whatever you'd like. just... please, put the box down. tell me which one you want upstairs first."

kento nanami carried half of the boxes upstairs that night. you were pouting that he wouldn't let you lift a single finger, but it was some kind of pride and warmth blooming in his chest that warred against the nature of your rebellion.

he hadn't thought you would try it yourself.

it was supposed to be a simple run for groceries. kento nanami checked off a mental list of all your favorite foods, trying to rearrange them in his mind when you called.

"ken," you grunted, voice crackling through the phone. "help."

his heart dropped. "what? my love? what's wrong? is something happening? is the baby coming?"

"nooo..." your voice was breathy and shallow. "i just... wanted a dress... to look nice for you..."

"darling, what exactly are you doing right now?" the cashier gave him a confused look as he dropped a fifty-dollar bill onto the counter and nearly ran all the way to his car.

no, not nearly. kento nanami damn near turned into the flash.

and when he got inside? to see you heaving a box across the living room, struggling to get a foot on the stairs? he grabbed the box from you immediately and steered you back onto the sofa.

"ken, please don't be mad---" "mad? i'm beyond mad. i'm... disappointed." "w-what?" "i thought you knew that you could rely on me for... anything at all." "i can! you know i do! but..." "but?" "i just.. don't feel pretty anymore. all my dresses are down here, and you do all the work and i just... i'm not enough for you." "who told you that?" "nobody... i was just reading through the comments of that article you sent me---" "and did you read the title? it said '10 things expectant mothers look absolutely ravnishing in'. and i asked you what you wanted." "it did not say that." "something along those lines. you'll always be more than enough for me, darling. i promise. but you need to promise me that you will never, ever do something like this again." "okay, ken. i promise. i love you." "I love you too."

choso promised he would be better. better than the father he never knew. the one that made him like this. and he promised that you would never go through the pain he felt his mother suffer through during her pregnancy.

"this is the third time you've bailed on us, man." "i know, i know. but she needs me." "i think it might be the other way around." "if you want, you can come over and we can play at my place?" "so i can watch you leave the game every three seconds to coddle your wife? i'd rather exorcise myself, thanks."

he didn't mean to be so overbearing. choso just wanted the pregnancy to be absolutely perfect with no bumps along the road. unflawed, just like you were for him.

but something was wrong. you were never quite... tired. always bursting with energy, pattering around the house, refusing to stay still. he was worried for the longest time.

"this is so stupid, cho." "something must be wrong. the doctor said you should be experiencing something called... pregnancy fatigue?" "that's normal fatigue, and she also said everybody has different symptoms." "but you should be tired. you should let me take care of you while you do nothing." "i hate doing nothing." "i love taking care of you." "one of those things is stronger than the other."

choso didn't say it, but when he pulled into the doctor's office, he knew his love for you would always be stronger than any complaining you ever did. especially when you knew he was right.

so, just to please him, you decide to play along.

"choooooosooooooooo!" "yes, my love?" "i can't reach the cereal on the top shelf." "you... you want me to get it for you?" "yes please."

instead of getting the cereal like you asked, choso grinned, swept you up into his arms and spun you around the kitchen, planting you on the kitchen island and smothering your face with kisses.

he was truly happy. in a way that he couldn't quite describe. it was something about feeling needed by you even when you insisted that you could do everything yourself.

so imagine his horror when choso comes home to you scaling the fucking cabinets like some kind of deranged spider-monkey, one arm half extended out to the new box of cereal at the top.

"my... my love? what... what are you doing?" "uhm... i ate all the cereal." "why... why are you up there?" "i thought i shouldn't bother you and decid--- choso, are you crying?"

choso wanted to say no. but instead he collapsed to his knees and started to sob like a child on the hardwood floors. he wanted to protest and turn away from you.

but your hand on his cheek stilled him and the look in your eyes softened at the tears running down his face.

"y-you could've hurt yourself!" "but i'm fine, see? i got down just fine. i'm fine, cho. look at me." "i... don't want you putting yourself in danger." "okay." "okay?" "yes. okay. just... please never cry like that again." "i just... i can't even think about what i'd do without you. or the baby." "we're not going anywhere, m'kay? we'll always be here. i love you." "i love you too. but seriously, don't do that again. i almost just died."

toji fushiguro wanted to do it right this time. after all, he didn't put a baby in you for no reason. he wanted to cherish you, to hold you tight, even when the nights were long and he knew the bed was cold.

"you sure? don't think i'll have the job waiting for you in three hours." "yeah. gotta take care of my girl." "damn. never seen you whipped like this." "what can i say? she's got me doing cartwheels around her."

and it was true. you really did have toji fushiguro doing the most absurd things for you. running out to the grocery store to buy pickles and peanut butter? done. listening to you complain about how the soap opera female lead was an absolute idiot? his ears were yours.

but it was more about how you depended on him. how you needed him. how megumi and you got along in a way that made him feel like he was actually meant to be a father, for once.

so of course, toji fushiguro indulged in everything you asked.

"toooooooooooo---" "yeah?" "where the fuck did you just spawn in from?" "i've been standing behind this door for the last five minutes." "uhm... what?" "i used the last of the toilet paper." "... and you didn't think to replace it?" "nah. i knew you'd come begging for me. just a chance for me to see my girl---" "okay, that's enough. just get the toilet paper down from the closet before i use your shirt to wipe my ass."

toji fushiguro had laughed and handed you a roll. a few weeks later, there was a mission he couldn't ignore. after making sure the house was stocked until he could come back, he pressed kisses to your face, ruffled megumi's hair, and was off.

but he didn't expect to be faced with this when he got home.

"are you out of your goddamn mind?" "did you hear megumi? he was screeching his head off." "then you ignore it! you don't climb up the wall like a fucking spider and get yourself stuck on top of the refrigerator! how the fuck does that even happen?" "your son has a pretty good throw." "you're dodging the question." "i just wanted to do something for him. with all this fuss about the baby... i think he feels left out."

leave it to you to be thinking about megumi when you're literally microwaving another baby in your stomach. toji fushiguro couldn't chastise you about that.

"as long as you promise never to do that again." "but what if he throws---" "then you slap him across his face and wait for me to get home so i can properly beat his ass." "toji! he's only five!" "that's five years too old to be making his mother do all that." "fine. i'll wait next time." "you better. i love you too much for you to fall and die like that." "i wouldn't die. i'm more flexible than you are, old man." "oh, yeah? how about we test that theory?"

suguru geto was ready. the hospital bag was prepped months before you were even aware of the hospital you were choosing to have your babies at. twins! he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"take another look." "geto-sama... i've looked at them already." "my pretty little girls..." "you... can't even see anything in this picture." "well, i can recognize my darling girls just fine." "girls? you already know the gender?" "consider it a feeling. i know my girls already."

he was obsessed with them already. and they weren't even born! his duties with the cult kept him away from home enough, so he wasn't about to let the time with you decline as you grew brighter and brighter when you were supposed to be tired.

"ugh, let me go!" "can't i spend some time with my lovely wife?" "you can, but this is too much. you've kept me locked in the bedroom for three hours already!" "and i'll keep you here until my girls are ready to come out." "i wanna go out and see the world! being a mother takes the spark out of so many people!" "it won't for you, pretty. trust me." "you aren't the one carrying our children." "i hope you know that if i could, i would do it in a heartbeat." "you would make a lovely seahorse husband."

you had been joking, but suguru geto wasn't. he truly and seriously would do anything you asked with his whole heart... even if your requests were a little... strange.

"is... this... high... enough..." "yes, sugu! it's perfect! thank you!" "anything... for you... pretty..." "you sound out of breath. let me get you a glass of water." "no... i've... i'm fine."

it was a painting of the two of you, commissioned to a curse that had a particularly keen eye and a swift hand. you were radiant and glowing and his hand was on your stomach, eyes fixed on you.

they had demanded his attention. suguru geto had none to spare.

especially not when he had returned from a meeting late at night, cold and aching for your warmth, only to find that you weren't where he left you in the bedroom.

instead, you were heaving a painting back across the room.

"what were you thinking?" "it was pissing me off. it wasn't at the right angle." "you said it was perfect!" "it was. but then it started pissing me off." "god, why do i do this to myself?" "i didn't like it there! it looks so much better where it is now." "yeah, after you nearly broke your back to move it! you endangered yourself! not to mention our little girls!" "well, i don't appreciate you breathing down my neck like some kind of mother hen! i can still take care of myself!"

your anger filled the silence, strung his lips together. suguru geto watched as your trembling subsided, your fists unclenched and your expression softened.

"i appreciate everything you do for me, i really do. it's just... suffocating." "what do you need me to do?" "just... space. please." "i can do that. i might claw my eyes out, though." "don't do that. and... thank you. for not getting mad." "oh, don't get me wrong, sweet. i'm definitely still mad at you." "but?" "but i love you more than that. so just promise me this. you'll never do something like that again without someone's help, okay? that's all i ask." "okay. i can do that." "i know you can. just like i know you'll be everything my girls could wish for."

ryomen sukuna demanded only the best for his wife. for his queen. for the love of his life. anything less meant that he wasn't worth it. that he didn't deserve you.

and perhaps he didn't.

"are the preparations done?" "they are... coming along, sire." "what are you trying to say?" "the child isn't due for another five months. isn't this all a bit... hasty?"

ryomen sukuna would've killed that guy if you hadn't stepped in. he watched as the decorator trembled as you led him into the newly built nursery and offered your thoughts on a particular color scheme.

he got lectured that night, told it wasn't okay to murder people just because they made a mistake. ryomen sukuna held back the urge to scoff and just nodded at you.

"i am beginning to think something is wrong." "with me? wow. you didn't realize that when you married me?" "with the child. you should be tired at this point." "you're worried because i'm not... tired?" "yes." "i feel fine." "precisely the problem. you will not allow me to carry you around the estate, nor feed you by hand." "because i'm perfectly capable of doing those things on my own."

but if the king of curses couldn't even serve his own wife, what was he meant for? ryomen sukuna pondered that question for a long time as the weeks passed. eventually, you offered an answer.

"sukuna. kuna. ryoooo." "what do you want, wife?" "well, husband, i happen to have misplaced my robe at the top of the cabinet. would you mind fetching it for me?" "... thousands of servants walk the palace grounds and yet you call me for this trivial task." "you said you wanted to be involved more." "i did not." "yeah, when you were whining about me not being tired---" "i do not whine." "i beg to differ. now, be a good boy and fetch that for me, will you?"

and even as he scowled and grumbled under his breath, ryomen sukuna reached up and grabbed it for you. because the truth was that he would do anything for that bright grin on your face.

especially when it was faltering under the same situations, just slightly shifted. and the look of horror and awe on your face was priceless. he would've taken a picture if a strange sensation wasn't spreading across his own chest.

"what do you think you're doing?" "uhm. threw the robe back up here. thought i'd get it down." "are you stupid? do you know the consequences of---" "hey, calm down. what's wrong?" "what's wrong? are you seriously asking me what's wrong? you could've just killed yourself! or just as worse, the child!" "but i'm okay! see?" "we have servants for this exact purpose. just one call to assist you at any means necessary. but of course. i should've expected this from you." "woah, wait. what's that supposed to mean?" "it means that i knew you would try and prove that you can do things yourself even if it means putting yourself and our unborn child at risk." "that wasn't what i---" "no, it might not have been, but it happens to be the very situation you are painting at the moment."

fear. the hand that squeezed his heart was fear. he recognized it and refused to acknowledge it because the king of curses was unafraid of everything. ryomen sukuna had to be.

"swear it." "swear... what?" "that until the child arrives---no, even after the child is here, that you will not lift a single finger until you are able-bodied and completely healed." "sukuna, i---" "no. you must swear it." "... fine. i swear i won't do anything by myself again." "good. and i will hold you to that." "... what is that supposed to mean?" "it means that i will indeed be trailing you around the estate. i will always be watching. do not attempt to defy my orders." "ooh, scary." "what's scary is the thought of losing you and our child."

a/n: idk where i decided that this was going to be angst but whatever it's been in my drafts thought i'd release it. likes and comments always appreciated! love ya!

[florencebirdsong]

Soft Bunny, Warm Bunny, Little Ball of Fur

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Basement Bunny AU - Chapter 3

Summary: a good bunny deserves a good burrow

Tags: darkfic, conditioning, kidnapping, touch depravation, touch starved, implied drugging

Words: 4,766

Authors note: Here it is!!! Thank you for all the lovely comments they make my heart so warm. Please enjoy this new chapter <3 I haven’t read this chapter over as many times as I like to but I have work today and I don’t want to make you wait another 12 hours. Especially since I posted mid morning last Friday. I’ll try to go over it again tonight depending on how well work goes.

Just a reminder that this is a series of interconnected oneshots on how each rule is learned and not a day by day.

ao3 | masterlist

Ch. One | Ch. Two | Ch. Three | Ch. Four | Ch. Five | Ch. Six | Ch. Seven | Ch. Eight | The Life of a Bunny

One visit, Mistress doesn’t pet your hair. She doesn’t the next time either. Or the next. Or during feeding time which has never happened before.

Anxiety churns in your gut. What’s changed? She hasn’t asked anything of you and you haven’t done a single thing different during her visits, or otherwise. You wrack your brain. There has to be something. Whatever it is, it isn’t bad enough for her to withhold food or water. Which means it’s small. But what? You can’t think of anything. You tug continuously at your shirt.

She doesn’t say anything on her next visit and you’re too scared to ask. Something has to be wrong for her to stop and you don’t want to know what she’ll do now that she isn’t taking away food or water. What will you have to do to make it up to her? What new command will you obey next?

You freeze as you realise what you’re thinking. It’s a good thing she isn’t touching you any more. She kidnapped you and locked you in a concrete room. What the hell is wrong with you that you miss it?

You shift your weight as you think about how long it’s been since you’ve had a proper conversation with someone, since you’ve experienced casual affection that isn’t being fucking patted. You try to give yourself some grace but it doesn’t really help. You know humans need to be touched but it doesn’t help the squirming in your gut. She is the only one offering it.

Or she was.

———

Many visits and many long days (weeks?) later, she enters empty handed. You’d been about to fall asleep but you jerk upright at the sight and press your back against the wall. First no touching and now bringing in nothing? Is there no command you can do to make up for it?

She sits on the couch. A mix of anxiety and hope has you staying in place. She hasn’t touched you in forever. What could coming in empty handed mean if not for that?

She points at her feet and you scramble over. She watches impassively. You stop exactly where she pointed, next to her instead of in front.Your hands shake and you press them against your thighs to try and hide it.

She gives you an expectant look and you slowly lean your head against her thigh. Your face never leaves her, looking for any indication that you’re doing the wrong thing. Her hand moves and you can’t help your flinch. Relief blooms in your chest when her fingers run through your hair. It feels heady. A craving denied finally fulfilled. You press tentatively then eagerly into her hand. She uses her nails to lightly scratch your scalp and you shiver. You knew you’d been missing her touch but now that you have it you have the scary feeling that you’d do anything to keep it.

You don’t get very long to bask in her attention before she moves. You reluctantly lift your head when she tugs your hair. She stands and it takes two steps for you to realise she isn’t heading to the door. Instead, she crosses the room and sits on your bare mattress.

Why is she— what? She isn’t meant to do that. She isn’t meant to go into the room that far at all let alone sit down there. You need her to stand up. You don’t want her to leave yet. What are you meant to do?

She raises a hand and you cringe back even with the distance between you.

“Come, pet,” she says. It’s been so long since you’ve heard her voice that you do.

You can’t bring yourself to stand when she’s sitting so low. What if she sees it as a threat? You don’t quite crawl towards her. It’s too much even with how often she has you on your knees. You keep your feet under you and use your hands for balance. It feels silly but you want to be able to launch yourself away if you need to.

Her hand stays raised and you stop just out of its reach. Her fingers curl and you cautiously tilt your head towards her. She didn’t pet you for nearly as long as she normally does and after so long without it…it leaves something deep inside of you desperate.

You move the last little distance and your eyes slip close as the feeling of her nails lightly scratching your scalp. A quiet noise escapes you at the feeling and you move insistently closer. You don’t realise how close until her hand moves to the back of your neck, lightly scratching your baby hairs, and your eyes flutter open.

Your breath freezes in your throat. She is right there. Half an arms length away. It’s stupid to be freaking out about this, you know it is, you’ve pressed against her thigh a hundred times. But it feels different to be so close to her face and you can’t help shrinking from her intense gaze.

The hand on the back of your neck stops you and you freeze when it squeezes, eyes widening just a little. It starts to push you down towards her lap and you panic. Her other hand grabs your shoulder and she keeps forcing you down.

“No!” you whimper and try to push yourself away using your hands on the mattress not daring to touch her. It doesn’t help. Her grip is strong and your body follows your head. For the first time you lay fully on her lap. Her hands keep you there — keep gripping you for long moments before one returns to its ministrations in your hair. Your heart beats a fast rhythm in your chest.

“Relax, bunny,” she murmurs.

How? How can you possibly when you are so close to her? You want to shove her away but the long days without touch make you just as desperate to cling to her. It makes you as tense as a taut string ready to snap.

“Relax,” that commanding tone returns and her nails presses harshly into your skin. They dig deeper every second you don’t and you force your body to go limp. Her hands instantly turn soft again and your body doesn’t know how to react. Your breaths are still sharp but your head drops to press fully against her. “A little more,” she says and you focus on your breathing. She doesn’t speak again until it evens out. “Good bunny.”

The last bit of tension in your body melts away. She doesn’t say anything else and you bask in the feeling of her hands on your skin again.

Eventually the soothing feeling of her fingers running through your hair and the warmth of her under you lulls you to sleep. You can’t bring yourself to be upset about it when you eventually wake.

———

It’s close to lights out when the locks click. You quickly move to kneel by the mattress. She doesn’t always sit there now. Sometimes she chooses to feed you from the couch and she still seems to like when you kneel at her feet by the door. But it’s easier to move to any spot from here instead of the awkwardness of crawling back to her on your bed.

She opens the door and you try not to show the shock on your face. She’s wearing sweatpants. They look high end but you don’t think you’ve seen her in anything that doesn’t classify as business casual. Excitement still flares in you when you see she isn’t holding anything. She pats you much less now when she has food or water. Although wariness wars with it, especially when she starts walking towards you.

You’re right to be wary. Instead of her sitting on the edge like always she gets onto it. Your fingers dig into your thighs as you watch her settle on the mattress against the wall. This is— this is bad, right? Kidnapper climbing onto your mattress is bad. And yet it’s a struggle not to follow her. She hasn’t been withholding her touch like she did before she first sat on your mattress which means she isn’t going to— she isn’t going to do that, right?

She pats her lap. You don’t move. You can’t. Even though you sort of want to. Being in her lap like that is nice. Being able to so easily fall asleep is nice. It being such a big jump meant she felt like she needed to withhold touch from you to make you more agreeable. You didn’t realise it at the time but you still spend most of the day by yourself. You’re bound to have some realisations. She hasn’t done that this time. Which has to mean she isn’t making another big jump. And that is a big one. An impossible one.

She raises an eyebrow. You shift nervously. You think it makes sense. Her legs probably hurt or something after a while. This will be more comfortable because she’ll be able to spread out. On your bed. With you on top of her.

You look away but your eyes keep getting drawn back in. She doesn’t move; her expression doesn’t change; she doesn’t tell you to come. It’s the same thing but a little different, you try to reassure yourself. And even if she hasn’t verbally said the words it’s still obviously a command. Disobeying means no food and water. Is lying next to her really worth that? No, not when you’re pretty sure (hoping desperately) she only wants to do what she’s always done. Pet you.

You put one hand on the mattress and then another. Her expectant expression doesn’t change. You swallow again. Your mouth is so dry. You crawl to her. Two seconds later you hesitate, kneeling by her thigh. Her hand reaches up and you resist the urge to flinch. She doesn’t like it when you do and since she’s on your bed you really don’t want to upset her.

Her hand curls around the back of your neck like the first time but instead of lowering you to her lap she guides you to her shoulder. You’re pressed right up against her.

You know she doesn’t like you being tense. You know that. But you can’t force yourself to relax. Her shirt is soft against your cheek and for the first time you can smell her musky perfume. She grabs your wrist. Your heart stops when she moves it towards her waist but she doesn’t go lower. She wraps your arm around her. Her other hand moving from your neck to gently run her fingers through your hair. This is…nice. You think. It’s not that different from before. You just feel more of her now. Pressed against her chest with your legs brushing hers.

Her nails scratch your scalp and you slowly begin to relax. This is definitely nicer. Her smell wraps around you and her warmth is so nice compared to the slightly chilled air. You don’t even twitch when her other hand begins to rub small circles into your arm. You slip into that hazy place between awake and asleep.

Sometime later it stops and holds your arm instead, giving a gentle squeeze. You hum a questioning sound but she doesn’t say anything. You’re too cozy to move and it isn’t like she’s ever subtle when she wants something so you don’t feel like you have to. You nuzzle closer, just in case she didn’t hear you. You forget it not too long after when she doesn’t move. An easy sleep calls to you and you can’t deny it.

———

You wake up to a blanket. It looks alien in this space. Purple and fluffy. You cautiously reach out to it half-expecting that awful noise to come back but nothing happens when you touch it. It’s soft against your fingers. You run them over it again and again in a soothing motion.

Is this your reward for lying against her and falling asleep? If it is then what will you get next time? A second blanket would be nice. You’d have one for the mattress and one to lay under. A third to wrap around you when you sit elsewhere? Maybe?

It could just be a one time thing. You didn’t get an anything from lying in her lap. Not an object, anyway.

You wrap it around yourself. The room is forever this side of chilly. It’s not a proper bed cover but it’s still warm. You pull your knees to your chest and rest your cheek on them. The blanket feels soft and comforting against it. For the first time you’re warm without her. It doesn’t feel better.

———

The next time she enters when you’re close to sleep she makes you kneel next to the mattress. You leave the blanket on it. You stay there when she gets onto it.

Your fingers twitch as she grabs the blanket but you don’t dare stop her. She lays it out on the mattress before sitting against the wall again. She taps her thigh twice and you crawl over to her. The same nervousness as last time rises within you but you don’t hesitate. You know you probably shouldn’t fall asleep again but it’s the deepest you’ve slept since waking up here.

You stop beside her, her hand curls around your neck and she guides you into her shoulder. Your hand goes automatically around her waist. You freeze when you realise what you’ve done but she doesn’t scold you. The hand not on your hair rests lightly on your arm and you slowly relax into her. She’s come in when you’re tired again so it’s easy to slip away in her hold.

She’s gone again when you wake up. You’re not sure how to feel. This time there’s a pale fitted sheet folded into a perfect square at the foot of the bed. You don’t know how she keeps slipping away without waking you up when you’re practically on top of her. It’s even more worrying that you don’t wake up to her coming back in. But what is more even more amazing is the fact that she’s been able to fold a fitted sheet into a perfect square. It’s the first time you genuinely consider if she has magic.

You give yourself a few moments to wake up properly. Your mouth feels cottony and your arms are wobbly in that half-awake stage. You rub the sleep sand from your eyes and resist the urge to burry your nose in your shirt. Her smell clings to you now. Will it stay on the sheet too? You pretend you don’t have that thought as you get up and pull your fuzzy blanket off.

Putting a fitted sheet on a bed without a frame is only marginally easier than with one. It’s made harder by your constant awareness of the cameras on you. You try very hard not to be aware of them at all but now you’re trying extra hard because you’re well aware of how fighting with this kind of sheet looks from the outside. At least it smells nice. The floral detergent smell is either very strong or you’re not used to scents anymore. Either way you’re looking forward to lying on it tonight.

It’s hard not to jump right on it but you manage. Mistress will be down with food soon and once you lay down you won’t want to get up. You lean against the couch and stare at how the new colour takes up so much space. The blanket is a darker colour and you spread it out on the mattress to try and contain it.

———

The third time you fall asleep against her you wake to a pillow. A bare one but a pillow nonetheless. You press your hand against it. It’s your preferred firmness. You position it in the middle of the bed feeling weird.

Time seems to stretch in between her usual visits. It feels like a week and no time at all when she enters wearing a different pair of sweatpants. You stay beside your mattress, eyes going between her and the pillow.

She lays down and rests her head on the pillow. Not even propped up against it but fully laying down. You swallow and nervously pick at your shirt. She raises an eyebrow and slightly lifts her head.

“Did you think the pillow was just for decoration?”

Your fingers pick at the seam in your pants. It’s not that different, really. You’ve already been lying completely against her when she was sitting. This would be no different.

Except she doesn’t guide you to lay your head on her chest. Instead she has you lay on your side and she wraps herself around your back. Her arms snake over your waist and pull you tight against her. Your breath hitches. Her nose brushes the back of your neck.

“Isn’t this nice?” she asks.

“Yes, mistress,” is your automatic response. You can practically feel her smile.

You lay like that for a long time. The usual sleepiness you feel under her touch nowhere to be seen.

Her fingers begin to make small patterns and you flinch. You wait for her hand to move. Under your shirt or lower. But it doesn’t.

“Relax, pet,” she says but you don’t know how. Her fingers over your shirt is much less comforting than in your hair and even the feeling of her warmth wrapped around you doesn’t outweigh that.

“Pet,” she says warningly but you can’t relax no matter how much you want to.

Her hand stills but that doesn’t really help. She sighs and her hand moves to your hip. She pulls until you roll over onto your other side. You look at her shirt instead of her but she grasps your chin and moves your head up. Her eyes are so blue and you’re surprised to see no ice in them. Although there’s only a hint of warmth in their analysing look.

Her other hand cups the back of your head and she uses it to guide you into your usual place, hidden in her neck. She uses the hand still on your hip to pull you firmly against her. You relax instantly. This is familiar. This is safe. You know what happens next. Her hand curls in your hair and you practically go limp, letting out a happy sigh.

“Is this better, pet?” she asks quietly. You nod and snuggle deeper.

It takes you longer to fall asleep than before but her hands stay soft, her fingers gentle in your hair.

——

You don’t notice it at first. It’s tucked under your pillow and you’re too busy fighting with yourself to notice it. You’re starting to miss her. And not just in the human contact way but in the I’m-sad-when-I-wake-up-and-you’re-not-here way. You’re more upset about the fact that you aren’t upset about it. You should be. You should be hating yourself for it. This is exactly what the movies warn everyone about when it comes to kidnappers. But all you can think about is her. Her gentle fingers, her soft hair brushing your sensitive skin, the pleasant smell that clings to her clothes.

The only thing that sates that annoying part of yourself is how you reacted to the spooning. Which is not something you’re thinking about. Falling asleep (against) next to her is hard enough.

So consumed in your self pity you don’t notice the reward until you manage to drag yourself upright. You catch it out of the corner of your eyes. A tiny bit of colour, different to your sheet. Pulling it and up makes it unfold into a rectangle. It’s a pillowcase.

You eye the it critically. The material is nice but you don’t see how it matches the fitted sheet or your blanket. But then your blanket doesn’t really go with the couch either.

Still, it’ll be nice to have. You stuff your pillow into it and try to ignore the pang of disappointed at how it covers the smell of your mist- of her shampoo. Not that you were smelling the pillow. And you’re only so aware of her different scents because there’s no other ones in here, of course. You fluff it like you’ve seen people do in movies and place it where she laid her head.

There’s still the constant chill to the air so instead of ‘making the bed’, you sit on mattress and wrap your blanket around you. You sit and stare at the pillow. It’s weird to think that this is your life now. That the thought doesn’t really upset you anymore. Being upset hasn’t gotten you anything apart from longer days. Life is a bit easier now that you aren’t alone all the time.

A couch and almost-fully made bed. A few more allowances and you’ll have a little apartment going. You smile like it’s a joke but something in your chest hurts.

You keep swinging between fixating on wanting to leave and wanting to see her. Both make you feel awful. You shut your eyes and try to picture the layout of your previous bedroom instead.

———

It’s hard to stay calm the next time she enters without an offering. She’s never given in to you like she did the night before. The chance of her allowing it again is very slim but you haven’t been able to come to terms with the new position. Which is so stupid because how is spooning so different to you curling against her side?

You know the answer to that. You’re ignoring it. You can’t face what your reaction to it means. You’re holding onto your indignation instead.

Nothing unusual happened during your normal food and water visits. So she probably isn’t fuming mad but she also seems to keep action and consequences to the specific behaviour they’re happening in. Still, she doesn’t mention how stiff you are when you kneel by her on the couch or the fact that you didn’t lean into her when drinking your water. You never risked looking at her face to see her reaction but her hands have remained gentle. That doesn’t mean you aren’t extremely aware of every second passing.

You have no guesses for your next reward so you don’t have that to distract you. The new pillowcase lost its shiny newness after her first visit today and your daydreams have been shit escapes from thoughts of her since day one. Your body keeps switching between vibrating with anxiety and being so heavy you can’t move.

You’re curled up by the couch when she comes in at the end of the day. You look up cautiously. The emotions of the day have left you exhausted. You don’t want to deal with the million what-ifs or thinking of every horrible reaction she’ll have to you saying no like last night.

She stops halfway to your bed when you make no move to join her. She gives you an analysing look. You put your head back down on your knees to avoid it. Only the smallest tingle of nerves remain. She doesn’t allow the silence to linger.

“The same position as usual, bunny,” she says. It’s the same neutral tone she uses for her commands but it’s still weird that she seems to be reassuring you. Does she actually care how overwhelmed you are or is it just to get you to behave?

You slowly lift your head. You can’t tell if she’s telling the truth or not but she’s never lied to you before. She doesn’t say or do anything else. She stands there and waits. You swallow nervously. She’s never lied before, you reassure yourself, and there’s no reason to go without for something you’re quite happy to do.

You uncurl and curl to her. She has always laid down first so you stop beside her. She gives you a brief pat on the head before lying down.

You kneel beside her and let her move you. The reassuring weight of her fingers wrap around the back of your neck and lay your head on her chest. You don’t even hesitate. Lying on her chest means more warmth if less skin. It’s an easy compromise compared to last night.

One hand runs through your hair and the other rubs small circles on your arm. You relax with a full-bodied sigh. Her familiar scent surrounds you and you slip into a deep sleep.

You see your reward the second you wake up. At some point your grip was switch out with it. It takes a moment to realise what it is since it’s a wall of white but when you shove it down you realise your arms are full of a duvet. A bare one like everything else you start with. It’s thick and looks like it’ll keep you warm which is good. You don’t need to guess what the next reward will be.

The soft blanket is folded up by the mattress which means you get to keep it. It seems she only takes things away when you’re bad. It looks brand new like everything else you get.

You get up and shake it out on the mattress. You climb back on with your blanket and sit, wrapping it around yourself. Now you can have a blanket you take with you as you change positions throughout the day.

———

Her next bedtime visit is exactly the same as the last. She tells you that it’ll be the same position, you slot yourself against her, and fall asleep to her fingers in your hair.

This time you wake up to a duvet cover. Another shade of purple. You now know her favourite colour. Or is it the colour she’s picked for you? People do that with their pets.

Putting it on is as fun as ever and you flop on top of it when you’re done. No second pillow then. Oh well. It’s not like it’ll get used with how closely Mis— she keeps you.

Not too long after you get the cover she enters with her hands behind your back. You’re curious as to what she would hide but what interests you more is the fact she’s smiling as she enters. It’s not a big smile, you don’t think she can do a big smile, but she never enters with more than a neutral expression.

You stay where you’re sitting since you can’t predict where she’ll sit. She stops a few steps in front of the door.

“Come here, bunny.”

You do. You kneel in front of her and try to peek behind her without being obvious. You can’t see anything so you sit back on your heels.

“You’ve been such a good pet I’ve decided you deserve something extra.” Her quirked smile stays and your curiosity grows.

When the silence lasts to long you remember her thing about manners.

“Thank you, mistress.”

She stops hiding the item. It’s a stuffed bunny. She holds it towards you and you carefully take it

“A bunny for my bunny,” she taps your nose. “Doesn’t it look just like you?”

You know she wants you to agree so you nod and look down at it. It’s fuzzy and small, barely big enough for both of your hands to go around it. And instead of a teddy bear shape it’s posed like a real rabbit laying down. Its fur is so soft. You’re grateful to have something new to run your fingers over.

“Thank you,” you murmur quietly, something you’ve never done before. It never felt necessary before because everything you got had been a trade. But this isn’t a necessity or something everyone should have like the bedding. It’s small and cute and a gift just because.

That pleased look that you love so much returns and you ignore the darker one hiding in her eyes. Your fingers run over the soft fur and you bring it to your cheek without thinking. It’s just so soft you have to. You rub your cheek against it. The softness is soothing.

Realising what you’re doing in front of her you quickly lower the bunny to your lap. Embarrassment burns in your chest and keeps your eyes on the floor.

“Such a good pet,” she murmurs lowly. Her voice is almost husky.

The attention she lavishes on you that visit feels…firmer, more intentional. When she leaves you place the bunny in front of the pillow. No longer a mattress but a pretty little bed.

[lavenderangell]

Thinking of Giving Up?

A lot of people think manifesting is hard. And honestly, in the beginning it is. It feels like you're fighting against everything you've known, believed, and lived through. The thing that made me keep going is this:

I refused to give up.

I refused to live in a world where we're told to accept circumstances that break our hearts. Where we’re expected to just cope with pain, struggle and lack, as if that’s all life has to offer.

I’ve gone back and forth about whether or not I should even share this. I’m a private person, and I’ve never really liked opening up about the hard parts of my life but maybe someone needs to hear this. Maybe there's someone out there on the verge of giving up and this will encourage them to keep going.

For me, it was financial instability. My family struggled with money after my father lost his job. He had to sell his car to make ends meet. I know what it feels like to worry about where your next meal will come from. To feel ashamed and afraid. At one point, my parents hadn’t paid rent in over 6 months. Every single day I woke up thinking, "Is today the day we get evicted?"

And eventually… that day came.

We had to move to a much smaller house and because I'm the oldest, I had to give up having a room of my own. I slept in the living room. Every night, I would lie there surrounded by silence, pretending it didn’t break my heart. There were nights I cried quietly in the dark, wondering if this was all a waste of time. I doubted the law. I doubted myself. I thought, "Maybe this doesn’t work and I’m deluding myself." I felt like I was drowning in hopelessness, watching life go by while I stayed stuck.

Something in me refused to give up. I persisted, it wasn't easy, but giving up meant continuing to live a life that crushed me. It meant accepting defeat and I couldn't do that.

So I kept going. I assumed that my parents were wealthy, even when the fridge was empty. I imagined a better life, even when we were surviving on handouts.

Then, out of nowhere, my mom found out her father had left her a huge area of land. She sold it. The first thing my parents did was pay the money they owed the former landlord. After, they bought 2 cars and invested in real estate. And they still had money left over.

My dad, who had been unemployed for three years, finally got the job he had been hoping for.

We were once evicted.

Now my parents own an apartment complex and they're already planning on buying another.

You can’t convince me that this was just a coincidence.

So I ask you this, with all the love in my heart:

Are you willing to accept what they told you life has to be?

Or will you keep going, even when it’s hard?

Even when it hurts.

Even when your heart is tired and your eyes are heavy from crying. Because the moment you stop accepting less, life stops giving you less.

Accept that you already have what you want and persist.

This girl walked through shadows with tears in her eyes. She cradled hope like a fragile flame, even when the world gave her nothing but cold winds. Manifesting, she realised, was never about chasing. It was about becoming. She remembered the ancient truth that reality is soft clay in her hands, and with each quiet assumption, she shaped a life worthy of the divinity within her. She is no longer waiting. She is creating, endlessly, effortlessly.

......

I was going through my drafts when I saw this post and felt a nudge to share it. If it reaches even one person who needs it right now, then it’s done its job.

[virovac]

Chingaderita update: bills and gas

Needs money to keep electric bill paid and insulin refrigerated!

Pypl check Kofi

Kofi screenshot!

my last boost (My boost before that )

We need at least $100 asap to pay the electric bill and $40 for the gas. Our electric bill is already overdue and we could get our light cut, please. We need our fridge running 24/7 or the insulin could spoil leaving our diabetics at risk. ANYTHING HELPS!!!

Long version of their problems.

last thread (talks about legals feels getting things order in case they die leaving the kids alone)

thread before that

Can donate or buy commissions

Pypl check Kofi

We need a lot of help, I am so sorry.

$0/$700

$0/$300 court fees ( to help prepare the kids in case Calli dies).*

$0/$1,300 for mold repairs.

Every monday we try to get them medicine when its available on discount and seems every week we fail nowadays. Every week they sacrifice for their family instead so inlaws and children can get food and medical care.

vetting: vouched for by @transgendz who is vetted by scam-buster kyra 45 (pictures below)

An nother campaign vouching, (ignore posssible misgendering as English not first language)

Summary of problems here, documentation of their long running problems and some of past boosted campaigns below

"We really REALLY need help with the court fees and paperwork [get done before aAugust.], we just want to ensure our kids will be safe from my family in case I die, due to my deteriorating health."

I know it’s hard for everyone but please, keep sharing, anything ANYTHING helps. We’ve been getting a bit of food and paying little by little what we owe at the corner store but the upcoming card payment is $190 and my meds are $130 and then let’s not forget my healthcare renewal. I also bring bad news, we’re starting with water shortages just like last year, we’ve gone from having 4 days of water a week to 1-2 if we’re lucky. Our only toilet is busted and there are 9 people here who use it. My kid still needs attention for a UTI he’s had for a couple of months now. And my partner has 3 ingrown nails and 2 big cuts on his feet he’s kept unattended for weeks. I’d hate to up the goal but we need every help we can get!!

more documentation from 2023. and

Went back on my blog to find proof of the fire where my in-laws lost everything, this other one with pictures and proof that I’ve been sick and struggling to get my medication since August 2023. Just felt like having things organized and maybe make another blog to keep all proof I can save since we lost a lot of information and pictures/videos when we sold our phones and lost the computer. Not to mention my blog is way older but I have no idea how to enter my archive :3

Pictures of mold damage and other problems from earlier post before lost phone in links

first link (link 29) OCTOBER 19TH –

second link OCTOBER 21ST

*They have been helping boost many campaigns, gaza and otherwise (and have asked me to boost these three while their internet is unreliable):

(1) AHMED’S [campaign] IS VERY FORGOTTEN, PLEASE, KEEP SHARING!!! – @/chingaderita on Tumblr

2)Donate to Trapped Family in Gaza Appeals for Help to Survive, organized by Abdallah Alanqar –  (3) Hani €5,688/€25,000 – @/chingaderita on Tumblr

[antithetical-bolter]

Someday, Someone (4)

I Did Something Bad

hi everyone! next installement of robby x hyacinth <3 hope u love it

6.1k words | Jeremy makes an appearance, Hyacinth loses her shit

warnings: discussion of domestic violence, emotional abuse, miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy, panic attacks. excessive use of the word fuck, commas, and em dashes. 

page dividers: @saradika-graphics

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Masterlist

tags: @gardeniarose13

"if a man talks shit, then i owe him nothing"

Hyacinth

Sunday night turns out to be one of the best night shifts the ER has seen in a long time. So much so, that jokes are made about Robby’s newly acquired white cloud. No codes, an empty psych pod, and only 5 boarding admits waiting to go upstairs. Hyacinth has time to finish her book, start a new one, and play a few rounds of cards with her coworkers. Dana has proven herself the speed champion of the department, Jack and Robby are both quite good at bullshit, and Hyacinth mops the floor with her coworkers during cribbage. Because, yeah. She does have a cribbage board (it’s pink, of course) in her locker. This is only the third shift she’s had time to get it out, but it’s feeling pretty worth it as she laughs with her friends after such a hellish week. There’s just enough time before shift change for some good natured ribbing from Jack and Robby about her latest book - a contemporary romance with a less than subtle cover - before Sunday’s night shift comes to an end. 

Monday night, the second in Hyacinth’s stretch of three, is relatively smooth as well. One almost code that stabilized very quickly after being intubated, and one minor car crash that brings in a few broken bones. Otherwise, it’s pretty damn quiet. Not that she would ever think or heaven forbid say the q word while on shift, but she lets herself think it after she clocks out on Tuesday morning. Jesse catches her on her way out the door, asking Hyacinth if she could cover a shift this coming Thursday. Hyacinth agrees quickly, being on the clock has meant significantly less anxiety about the rest of her life so she’s eager to pick up some extra hours. Plus, Dana and Robby are both on this Thursday and it’s always better to suffer with friends. 

Tuesday is slightly more hectic. She couldn’t tell you why, but Tuesday nights always seem to be one of the busiest for this particular ER. Quite a few instances of ‘grandma falls down, breaks hip, gets admitted for surgery’ and a ridiculous amount of flu symptoms come in over the first few hours. The lobby is still full when the clock hits 2350. One code comes in right after midnight, but the family chooses not to override the patients DNR. They allow the family to say goodbye for as long as they need, and proceed with postmortem care afterwords. 

Enjoying post mortem care might sound more than a little morbid, but Hyacinth finds that it is a task she feels honored to do. Not because the patient is dead, of course, but because being one of the last people to take care of someone while their body is still with us feels like a huge honor. She likes to open a window (if there is one), turn on some music, and clean the patient up the best she can. Dignity in death is something everyone should have a right to, and performing proper and respectful post mortem care is just one of the many ways that nurses can help facilitate that. She’s able to squeeze in a few minor scrapes, small cuts, and one kid with a bead stuck in their nose before she’s finding herself clocking out on Wednesday morning. 

After getting back to the house, Hyacinth eats a quick breakfast before taking her computer out to her hammock and logging on for a telehealth therapy appointment. Her therapist, an older woman named Carly, has been with Hyacinth for almost 5 years now. It took her a very long time to find someone she trusted, and once she found Carly she knew she was done therapist shopping. 

Hyacinth spends almost the whole session crying about how she has quite literally no fucking clue what she’s doing with herself. How work is the only place she really feels stable anymore. They briefly touch on losing Jeremy and his companionship, but end up focusing more on how to deal with starting over. Forever using humor as a coping mechanism, Hyacinth jokes that she’s that swearing off men and potentially going to live off grid, very far into the woods. Carly does not find this particularly funny. Maybe a little too soon, Hyacinth observes as Carly starts to speak. 

“A divorce at 34 is not the end of the world, though it definitely feels like it right now. Take everything at your own pace, but don’t discount finding happiness with someone else just because the first one you chose ended up being a dud.” Hyacinth resists the urge to roll her eyes, even though she knows the statement is correct. 

“I know that. Logically that makes sense. But I really don’t know if I’ll ever convince myself to be vulnerable like that with another person. Emotionally or physically. Not because I feel attached or loyal to Jeremy, but because starting a relationship with me means a lot of baggage and hard discussions, and that’s before the whole sex situation. It took me forever to be comfortable enough with Jeremy to have sex and then even longer to actually enjoy it, and the infrequent sex we did have for the last year or so of our relationship was so hard for me to get through.” Physical intimacy has always been a struggle for Hyacinth, after being assaulted the summer before her freshman year of college. Having to explain that to a new potential partner feels like an unachievable goal. 

“I didn’t say you have to go out and find a man you want to climb like a tree, but that you should let yourself be open to the possibility of wanting to.”A hard look has Hyacinth turning away to take a drink of water. “It sucks that the last year of your marriage was so hard, especially when it comes to sex because you have always struggled with that aspect.” Carly pauses and assesses Hyacinth with a look that does not bode well for the younger woman’s sanity. “I have something that might be hard for you to hear. Are you up for it?” Hyacinth gives her a nod of affirmation and braces for impact. “It sounds like you were letting him have sex with you, and using that as a form of self harm. It’s not uncommon in relationships with similar dynamics, sometimes women can feel so guilty for not having what they perceive as ‘the right feelings’ for their partners, and in turn see sex as a way to both punish themselves and appease their partner.” 

“Jesus we are not holding our punches today, are we?” 

“That’s exactly why I warned you. We have come so far these last five years of working together and I would not be harsh with you unless I knew you could handle it.” 

“Yeah, yeah, and I know you’re right. And I’m sure you’re right about me having to get back out there at some point, but I’m just not there yet. I’m sure I’ll get there eventually but I can’t even see the possibility right now.” 

“You don’t have to be there now, not next month, not six months or even a year from now. You saying that means you think you will be ready at some point, and that’s all that matters.” Hyacinth lightly nods her head, stewing over the harsh but necessary words from a woman she has come to trust deeply. “What are you going to do after our session? Do you have a recovery plan?” 

“Yeah, I have tonight off so I’m going to go swim until my arms fall off and then shower before gett in bed and not moving until tomorrow afternoon.” Carly seems pleased with this plan and responds,

“Good. I like it. You have my emergency line if you need me, and I think we should follow up again next week. Once a month or so has been fine up until now, but with this big life change I’d like to check in more regularly.” They set an appointment for the following Wednesday and say their goodbyes. 

Walking back inside, Hyacinth finds Dana at the kitchen table. 

“Hey Dana, I’m gonna go grab my stuff and head to the pool for a swim. I’ll probably be back in about 2 hours, maybe a little longer.” She says, while attempting to rush past the table.

“Whoa slow down there hon, are you okay?” Dana stands up and blocks Hyacinth’s path back to her room while noting her very red and puffy eyes. 

“Therapy was pretty hard today, to be honest with you. Good and very necessary but hard. I just need some time in the water and then I’ll be okay.”

“Alright honey. Whatever you say. Are you okay to drive?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I have definitely driven while more distraught than this, like through all of nursing school basically.”

“I see and acknowledge the joke as a deflection and I’ll let it slide for now. Go get your swim in, call me if you need a ride. My phone will be on.” Dana leans in to give her a hug before patting the younger woman’s shoulders and sending her on her way. 

It’s always the extra shifts that fuck you over. The night Hyacinth picked up for Jesse is no exception, and things get started with a bang. Literally. A 21 year old with a GSW to the right lower quadrant (well within no-mans land, if you ask Abbot) walks in the front doors and promptly passes out from blood loss in the lobby. Thankfully Ellis is on chairs tonight, and she is able to slow the bleeding while other staff scrambles to get the patient onto a gurney. 

It takes almost four hours for them to get the patient stable enough to go to the OR. Dana, Walsh, Robby and Hyacinth are all covered in blood by the time Walsh and an OR nurse transport the patient to surgery. 

Almost immediately after everyone has changed into clean scrubs, they get a call from an EMS crew who has an 18 month old in status epilepticus. Kids are prone to seizures, especially febrile seizures, but this child is an otherwise healthy little girl with no known medical problems and no recent infections. Having been seizing for almost 7 minutes when she arrives, Hyacinth wastes no time in inserting an IV into the girls ankle and giving her IV Ativan. 

“That was a smooth ankle IV insertion, great job Hyacinth!” Robby tells her as they apply seizure pads to the bed and attach monitoring equipment to the patient. 

“Thanks, kids arms are hard because they’re so mobile and squirmy so I like to go for the foot or ankle when appropriate and I figured now was one of those times.” 

“Absolutely. Getting a kid on the first stick is always something to be proud of, their little veins can be tricky. You might have just earned the title of designated pediatric IV inserter!” Hyacinth moves her gaze from the patient to Robby’s face, where it is obvious he’s fucking with her. Being the designated kiddo IV staff member is not anyone’s idea of a good time. 

“I don’t know, I think that practice is good for those who don’t feel confident with pediatric IV access. Maybe next time I’ll walk you through one instead.” She replies, enjoying the easy rapport she’s built with Robby (now that she’s realized he’s joking, of course). 

“I’m not too proud to admit that nurses are better at a lot of tasks than doctors, and you can walk me through anything you like at anytime. I’d love to learn.” Robby throws a smile and a cheeky wink her way, and leaves the room. Hyacinth, slightly in shock, shakes her head and tries to clear it as she gets back to her tasks. 

She’s finishing up her charting and getting the room ready for the patients parents to come back when Dana rushes into the room and quickly shuts the door behind her. 

“Hyacinth, take a pause for a sec. I need to talk to you about something before you go back out there.” Entering her last note for now, Hyacinth logs out of the charting system before turning back to face her friend. Dana’s face is tight, and she’s looking at Hyacinth like she knows whatever she has to say is gonna hurt. 

“Uhhh, okay. Hit me.” It’s very unlike Dana to pull her aside for a private conversation like this while they’re in a patient room, and it’s out of character enough that it has Hyacinth instantly feeling like she’s got a weight sitting on her chest. 

“EMS just brought in a drunk driver after he ran his car into a tree. The driver is now awake and stable, and the only thing he says is that he wants you as his nurse. More like screams it, actually.” 

“Okay, that’s not that unusual. We’ve got a few frequenters who know me. Why are you looking at me like that?

“Shit, Hon. Because he’s saying that he wants his wife as his nurse. ID confirms the patient’s name is Jeremy Clark. I had to stop registration from calling your cell, you’re still listed as his emergency contact.” 

No amount of preparation could have made her ready to hear Dana tell her that Jeremy was checked in to the ER. For years he refused even a regular check up, and now here he is. Fucked up and apparently airing all their dirty laundry to the department. 

“That… really fucking sucks.” Hyacinth can feel the panic closing in on her, like she’s inside of a box that just keeps getting smaller and smaller and smaller. 

“Yeah. And, unfortunately, our only open monitoring bed right now is one that has a direct line of sight to the nurses station. It will make avoiding him especially difficult. I’m trying to get some rooms swapped around but it’s not able to happen just yet.” Hyacinth knows Dana would move heaven and earth for her so that she didn’t have to deal with him right now, and if she’s saying it can’t happen then she’s already tried everything she can. 

“Well I might as well just get it over with then, yeah? No point in prolonging the inevitable. I’ll finish what I need to for my other patients and then go freak out in the privacy of the staff bathroom.” Dana scoffs. 

“As long as you have a plan. I’ll walk with you.”

Leaving the room goes about as well as Hyacinth expected it to. Less than 10 steps out into the milieu of the unit and she can hear Jeremy screaming. 

“Don’t fucking touch me! Only my wife can touch me! Untie me right fucking now or I will sue your ass!” He really is drunk, his words coming out sounding like he’s speaking in cursive. 

Hyacinth does her best to pretend like she doesn’t hear him. Continues this as her coworkers attempt to line, lab, and medicate him. 

“My wife! Get me my fucking WIFE! She works here! Her name is HYACINTH. Are you stupid? Hyacinth!”

Fuck. There goes her plan of pretending she doesn’t know him. She puts her head in her hands, trying for all she’s worth to take in slow and measured breaths. It’s not working that well. 

Two minutes, a lot of yelling, and what she assumes is a B52 later, her coworkers file out of the room. Because he is in restraints, the curtain has to remain open so he can be observed continuously. Unfortunate, but necessary. Unfortunate because now she can see him, and he can most definitely see her. 

“Hyacinth!! Come fucking untie me so we can go home. I’ve given you a week to hide but it’s time to come back and be my wife again. You owe me a god damn explanation. You can’t just up and fucking leave like that, we’re fucking married!” She does not dignify this with a response, and instead moves her things to a work station that has her facing away from him. “Don’t you fucking ignore me, it will come back to get you later you stupid bitch, how da-” 

“That is enough. I do not tolerate any sort of misconduct here, physical or verbal. If you cannot keep your mouth shut and let my nurses work then I will be moving you into a psych room, where you can scream all you want.” Robby stands in the doorway to Jeremy’s room with his arms crossed, and while Hyacinth can’t see his face she knows what the glare looks like. She’s glad it’s being directed towards her asshole of an ex. 

Jeremy clearly is not happy with this and huffs, but the meds are starting to hit and he’s clearly getting sleepy. Hyacinth sees this as her opportunity for a quick exit and all but runs to the staff bathroom for her allotted mental breakdown time. She doesn’t quite make it before the first few tears start to fall. 

In 1-2-3-4,

Hold 1-2-3-4,

Out 1-2-3-4,

Hold 1-2-3-4.

The floor of a hospital bathroom is not an ideal place to have a panic attack, but it’s Hyacinth’s only option at the moment so she’ll take it. Box breathing usually at least brings her heart rate down, but according to her watch she’s still tach-ing away in the 140’s. Not ideal for someone sitting down. She can hear a voice on the other side of the door, but she’s currently feeling like she’s underwater and can’t breathe. Absolutely no way she’s making it all the way to the door to unlock it. 

She tries (and fails) to calm herself down with more breathing exercises and lying down with her feet up on the wall, but nothing seems to be working. Quickly approaching passing out, she sits up to turn on the sink so she can splash cold water on her face. Or, attempts to sit up. Just as she’s trying to push herself up into a more upright position, the door opens. 

Hyacinth really thought Dana would be the one who tracks down the key and forces her way in, but when she looks up she sees a very blurry outline of Robby standing in the doorway. He quickly closes the door again and joins her on the floor. 

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t try and sit up. I brought your water bottle if you need something to drink.” She shakes her head, trying to tell him she needs cold water but not to drink. 

“N-no, not water. Cold.” Somehow, this makes sense to him and he pulls out his phone. Less than sixty seconds later, a hand that looks suspiciously like Ellis’s throws an ice pack in. “Ye-yeah, ice.” Hyacinth manages to sputter out. Robby catches the ice pack, lifts her head onto his lap and carefully places the ice pack in the center of her chest. 

“Just keep breathing for me, you’re doing great.” He grabs her hand and places it on his upper abdomen, right where his diaphragm sits. “Feel how I’m breathing, and try to match it if you can.” He takes her other hand and lays it on her own abdomen, continuing to encourage her to feel herself breathing. After a few minutes, her breathing has slowed but not enough for his liking. “Tell me about why the ice helps, what’s the response happening in your body right now?”

“Uh, its, uh - a vagal response. The ice tricks the vagus nerve into,” she takes a deep, shaky breath and continues, “uhm, slowing down the heart rate and helps to regulate the p-parasympathetic nervous system.” 

“Good job. You’re right. Keep breathing with me, you’re doing better.” He moves one of his hands to her head and starts to slowly comb through her hair, while the other moves to the wrist that sits on her abdomen so he can palpate a pulse. “You’re still a little tachycardic for my liking, but your breathing is better. Tell me about our patient tonight, the girl who presented in status. What are your first moves when a patient like that comes in the door?” Leave it to Robby to figure out that she is nothing if not a good student. Panicking while taking exams is a right of passage in nursing school, and it seems like that skill is one she’ll continue to use in real life. 

“Airway first, put them on their side. Make sure suction is set up, have a non-rebreather ready for if their sats start to drop. Protect them from injury during the seizure, with seizure pads if they’re available. IV ativan is the standard of care but IM midazolam can be used if IV access is not attainable at that time.” She’s still crying profusely, but she can feel herself coming down. She’s aware enough to be embarrassed, at least, and tries to sit up. 

Robby stops her by moving his hand that has been on her head to her shoulder and tells her, “Don’t sit up yet, we’ve got time. When you’re ready to open your eyes and talk with me, we can see about sitting up. Reciting textbook facts is an impressive start, but I need you to be a little more present before we move you.” She nods in understanding, and continues to focus on her breathing. “Good. Your heart rate is getting there, tip your watch towards me so I can double check?” She does, and he seems pleased with what he sees. “105. Much better.” He moves his hand back to her hair, continuing to stroke her head in light comforting sweeps. 

“Thanks. I really expected Dana, but you were just as effective. Five stars, would panic in front of again.” Opening her eyes and blinking a bit at the bright lights and remaining tears, she starts to sit up. Robby now seems agreeable to this plan of action and helps her steady herself as she brings her legs down from the wall and turns to sit with her back against it. 

“I’ll be sure to add that to my resume.” He reaches up to grab a paper towel and wet it in the sink. Instead of handing it to her, he uses it to wipe the tear tracks off her face as best he can before he throws it away and sits next to her against the wall. “You think you’re okay? We can stay in here as long as you need, I just want to make sure you’re not feeling like you’re panicking again.”

“I don’t usually fall back into it that quickly, I should be fine. Just catching my breath now.” 

“Usually?” His head turns to look at her, and she can all but feel his eyes on her face as she responds. 

“That definitely made it sound like this is regular occurrence for me. It’s not - not anymore. I haven’t had a panic attack like that in a lot of years and I’ve never had two right in a row. I’ll be alright.” He seems skeptical at this, but doesn’t question her. “Is he still asleep?” Robby nods. “What’s the plan? Will we have to deal with him much longer?”

“You won’t be dealing with him at all. You’re going home.” She starts to voice her disagreement, but Robby holds his hand up to stop her. “Or at the very least, you’re going out to chairs so he can’t see you and scream at you. His head CT is clear, so we’re letting him metabolize to freedom.”

“He should probably metabolize to jail.” 

“No, he should definitely metabolize to jail. But he wasn’t caught by them.” He shakes his head. “For him to be arrested, they’ve gotta catch him in the act.” Hyacinth knows this, and she’s pissed off about it. “You should see about filing a restraining order if you can.” There’s no way she’s got enough evidence to prove the need for a restraining order right now and she tells him as much. “Well then we’ll make sure he is escorted off the property by security when he leaves, and I’ll walk you to your car to make sure he hasn’t waited for you.” 

“You really don’t have to do that, I can have a security guard walk me out or go with Dana.” 

“Nah, it’s okay. We’re friends, right?” He looks at her for an answer and only continues after she nods. “Let me help. Walking you out to your car is easy. We’ve all got your back here, this is one of my ways of pitching in.” 

“Alright, then. Thanks. You really were super helpful and I appreciate it.” 

“You’re welcome. Anytime. I’ll give you a few minutes to finish collecting yourself before you come out and join us. I’ll send someone in to his room to watch him for a few so we can close the curtain until we get you out front, ok? I’ll come knock in five minutes if you haven’t come out.” 

“Okay.” She gives him a small smile while he moves to stand and offers his hand to help her up. She takes it and lets him pull her to her feet. 

“At the risk of slightly overstepping, can I give you a hug before I go?” She responds by reaching to hug him, and immediately feels his arms wrap around her. One hand on the back of her neck and the other in the middle of her back, he gives her a squeeze and tells her “You don’t deserve to be treated like that, and you don’t deserve to have him interrupt your work day. You owe him nothing. No explanation, no conversations. Not if he’s going to react like that. You did great, and you should be proud of yourself.” He pulls away and makes her look him in the eyes before saying, “I’m honored you trust me enough to let you help you like this. I promise to continue to do so.” 

“Thanks, Robby.” She smiles at him as best she can and watches him walk out the door. 

“Cinth? Honey? You still in here?” Robby had stepped out just a minute ago, and it seems they’re changing the guard. 

“Come on in, Dana. I’m doing okay.” Dana immediately pulls her into a hug. 

“Oh thank god. I wanted to be in here but I was breaking charge so I couldn’t step away. Are you feeling ready to come back out? Or maybe you should go home. It’s almost 0430 anyway, we could do without you for the rest of the shift.” 

“Robby has already tried to send me home. We agreed on me being out in chairs instead, since it doesn’t seem like Jeremy will be sober enough to leave anytime soon.” Dana does not seem too thrilled about Hyacinth sticking around, but chooses not to say anything. “Just, walk with me to chairs? I’m ready to get back into work mode for a few hours. Robby was helpful, I’m feeling okay now.” 

“Of course, let’s go.” 

As they make their way back through the unit and to the front desk, Hyacinth realizes she forgot something. 

“Ah shit, Dana. I fucked up my scheduling. I agreed to take this shift from Jesse and forgot about my god damn planned parenthood appointment.” She laughs a bit at this. Generally, Hyacinth considers herself pretty put together and capable of managing her own scheduling. Occasionally, though, the ADHD does win. This is one of those times. 

“What time?”

“Not till four pm, thank god.” 

“Good. I’ll drive you. No arguments.”

“Yeah no I won’t fight you on that. I actually might take a lorazepam before we go, just for shits and giggles.” Dana rolls her eyes but responds with, 

“That is a great idea. Do you have some or are we making Robby write a prescription for you?”

“I’ve got some.” 

“What am I writing a prescription for?” Neither woman had heard him walk up behind them. 

“Nothing - I have what I need. I’ve got an appointment this afternoon and after this whole fiasco I’m debating taking an ativan prior and making Dana drive me.” Hyacinth cringes a bit as she fills Robby in, he’s already seen her break down today. He doesn’t need to know about the second one she’ll likely have later this afternoon. Thankfully Dana responds before Robby can. 

“Not debating, she’s going to. No reason to worry, a very routine but anxiety inducing thing. Girl stuff, if you will.” Robby does not seem fazed by this. 

“The ‘girl stuff’ excuse doesn’t really work with doctors, Dana.” He shifts his focus to Hyacinth. “But if you’re okay and you have everything you need then that is all I need to know.”

“Yeah. I’m good. Thanks again.” Hyacinth assures him. Robby seems satisfied with this and gives her a smile and a thumbs up before walking away. “God, he’s sneaky when he wants to be.”

“And nosy as hell. But he takes good care of his people, and it seems like you’re officially in that group.” Hyacinth can do nothing to stop the warm feeling that brings on, but chooses to ignore it. Absolutely no unpacking that right now. 

Robby 

He’s really trying not to hover around Hyacinth while she’s out in chairs. He watches her with an intensity that might not be workplace appropriate whenever she walks a patient back, but she seems to be doing okay. Hearing that her soon to be ex-husband was in the ER was a shock for sure, but nothing like seeing her flee like a bat out of hell into the staff bathroom, tears already running down her cheeks. 

Talking people down from panic attacks is not an infrequent occurrence for an emergency medicine doctor, but very rarely does he have to talk down someone he considers a friend. A friend who is usually the strongest person in the room, and has done her damndest to not let the entire staff know about the struggles in her personal life. So much for that, as Jeremy had all but told the whole story to anyone who would give him even a second of their attention. Not that his version was correct in anyway, but he still felt the need to make sure everyone heard it. 

It was admirable, the way she was able to still voice her needs even when clearly in the depths of an all consuming panic attack. If he had been thinking straight, he would’ve grabbed an ice pack before he came in. That’s one of the first things that he teaches patients. But he was definitely not thinking straight, had needed to lay eyes on her to make sure she was okay before addressing anything else. Thank god for Ellis and her tendency to not put her phone on silent, allowing him to text her for a quick ice pack delivery. 

And god damn, her spitting out facts like she was taking an oral exam while still hyperventilating was impressive as fuck. He’s always been a sucker for a smart woman, and this one in particular has struck him a little stupid. He had told her that he was honored by her trust in him and he meant it. She had been so nervous around him at first, and he was glad they had made a breakthrough at the barbecue. Working with her this week had been fun, and it’s been a long time since he actually had fun at work. 

By 0645, Robby is more than ready to be done with Jeremy for the day. He’s been nothing but an asshole since waking up from his B52 shot, and continues to ask for Hyacinth. He won’t be sober enough for discharge when they leave, though. Bad because she’ll have to walk by his room on her way out, good because it means he can’t follow her to her car. Robby will still be walking her out, though. He wants another chance to check in with her before he doesn’t see her until their next stretch of shifts next week. 

“Robby! Hey man! Give me just a sec to put my bag down and I’ll come get sign out from you.” Shen, having recently switched to days, was far too awake for this time of night (morning?). Robby gives him a few minutes to get settled before filling the younger attending in on all of the overnight shenanigans. He starts with the easy patients, and makes sure to leave their current problem patient for last. 

“And in central five we’ve got a 35 year old male, hit a tree with his car after having a few too many. Has been belligerent and violent all night. He’s still in restraints and has shown no signs of agreeing to release criteria. He also happens to be the soon to be ex-husband of one of our night shift nurses, and has been saying some nasty shit towards her the entire time he’s been here. Hoping he’ll settle down a bit once she’s out of the building.”

“Fuuuuck.” Shen pauses to take a comically large drink of his iced coffee. “Sounds like you guys had quite the night. I’ve got it, you get outta here.” 

“Thanks, Shen. Hope your shift goes better than ours.”

“You and me both, man.” Robby waves to him over his shoulder as he walks to the locker room, finding Hyacinth already there. 

“Hey, Hyacinth. You ready to leave? I know he’s still here but I’d like to walk you out anyway. I’ll try and shield you from his line of sight as much as possible when we walk past his room.” 

“Hey, Robby. Yeah. I desperately need to get out of here.” She grabs her bag and moves to stand next to him before he opens the door and leads her out of the room. They all but run past Jeremy and his never ending spew of insults, and he can tell its got her shaken up. 

“Those are some pretty fucking awful things for him to say. Are you okay?” She laughs and shakes her head, but he can see the tears she’s trying not to let fall. 

“Believe me, that’s not the worst thing he’s said to me. I’m just a little emotionally raw right now, I’ll be fine. Nothing a McDonalds hashbrown and a good workout can’t fix.” 

“Spoken like a true healthcare professional. You’re not back tonight, are you?” If she is he’s going to very strongly encourage her to call out. 

“God, no. I’m off till Monday. I have that appointment this afternoon as well, another reason for me to not be in this building for a few days.” 

“Good. I know Dana has a shift this weekend, so if you need anything you can call me. I hope your appointment this afternoon goes well, and you should definitely take the lorazepam if you need it.” He hands her a piece of paper with a scribbled number on it, and she responds by handing him her phone. 

“Honestly it’s very unlikely that I take you up on that, but just in case I do why don’t you just put your number in. No way I keep track of that piece of paper for longer than the next 5 minutes.” He laughs and puts his contact information in her phone, but doesn’t press her to do the same. She can reach out when and if she wants to. 

“Well, don’t hesitate to use it if you need to. I’m a notoriously terrible sleeper, and nights are definitely not making it better so chances are I’ll be awake.” Maybe not in his best interest to broadcast his own issues, but he’s trying to be real with her. 

“I promise I will reach out if I need anything. Thank you. For more than just this, you’ve really been a huge source of support for me today. I needed it.” 

“You are very welcome, but there’s really no need to thank me. I’ve got your back.” He leans in to give her a side hug, but she turns and hugs him full on. He happily returns the gesture. “Now, go take care of yourself. I’ll see you next week, and I better not hear about you picking up extra hours between now and then.” He jokingly admonishes her, but he’s serious about her needing to rest and recover. 

“Oh don’t worry, I won’t be. I love this job but last night was fucking awful and I will be taking advantage of my days off.” He’s happy to hear it, and says so as she gets into her car. He waits while she gets settled, and waves as she drives off before walking to his own car and heading home. 

[dbnightingale24]

React

A Stepcest Love Story About Jim

~~

~~

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6

Hi, hello, sorry. My life is a bit of a mess right now, so updates are really hard lately. I promise I'm still writing, but you just have to have a little patience with me. Thank you to everyone who keeps reading, and asks about updates. It means the world to me. Anywho here's chapter 7...finally.

Word Count: 2225

Warning(s): Smut (MINORS DNI), Swearing, Heartbreak, Angst, Arguing, Forbidden Love, Family Drama, Crying, Drama, Sneaking Around, Stepcest, Step-Daughter/Step-Father Relationship, Fluff...uhh, I think that's it.

Summary: You know that being with Jim means there will be drama, which you're fine with. However, you'd like to wait until after graduation to deal with it. While you and Jim continue to sneak around, your Mother is desperate to not feel so alone again. What happens when you two get a little too reckless, and she becomes a bit more clingy?

~~

I do not give permission/consent for my works/stories to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of relationship, this is clearly for entertainment purposes only.

~~

Chapter 7

You and Jim have been dating for three months, and it’s overall been smooth sailing. The morning after Christmas, he woke you up with his head between your legs, and you knew it was something you’d never get used to.

“Jim,” you moaned as your eyes softly fluttered open.

“There you are, Angel,” he smirked, your juices coating the lower half of his face. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he groaned before diving back in.

“Jim...JIM!” you screamed as you felt the vibrator on your clit, his lewd moans only added to your pleasure.

You ran your hands through his hair as you arched your back, your pussy sucking in his tongue like a vice.

“Oh...oh! Please...too...too much! Too fuckin’...OH!”

Jim grunted in approval as he cleaned up the mess you made with vigor.

“Fuck!”

“Ready for your next present, Angel?” he cooed as he slowly kissed his way up body, and you shamelessly nodded. 

You heard the cuffs before you registered that he was dangling them in front  of you.

“You trust me, Angel?”

“With everything in me,” you confessed breathlessly. 

Jim didn’t take it easy on you and you didn’t want him to. He had you on your knees with your hands cuffed behind your back in no time at all, and took you apart in ways you didn’t even know you could bend. The final orgasm was the most powerful, with him holding the vibrator against your clit, he pounded into you hard and fast while he softly told you how much he loves and adores you.

How much he needs you.

When the orgasm finally did wash over you, it practically knocked you out. As always, Jim was the gentleman you’d always known him to be.

“C’mon, Angel, speak to me. Are you okay?” he cooed softly, as he undid the cuffs before he softly shook you.

“Mhm,” you mumbled as you slowly came back to the reality around you.

“I’ll take it easier next time-”

“No,” you were quick to interrupt, “I’m okay, I loved every second of it,” you smiled up at him weakly as he got you under the covers He was so gentle after, and everything was fine. Then your Mother called him.

“We’re done, Y/M/N,” he snapped after going back and forth with her for about thirty minutes, while you sat on the bed with your legs pulled up to your chest and held them close to you. “I’ll be back later to pick up my things, as well as Y/N’s....yes, I know where she is and you really fuckin’ hurt her! The way you acted in front of my children, the way you spoke to her...you’re always sorry and then ya feckin’ do it again! Can’t be all that sorry!...I’ll stay with Charlie for a few days...I’m not tellin’ ya where she’s stayin...no, Y/N isn’t with me, but I’ve been checkin’ in with her....if I were her, I wouldn’t answer ya either! No, Y/M/N, we’re done. I’m not doin’ this with ya anymore!” he snapped before he hung up and threw his phone down. He looked at you and let out a heavy sigh, “Angel-”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” you sniffled softly. “Maybe we should just tell her now-”

“No, I’m not lettin’ her attack ya back to back. Hell, I’ll tell her meself-”

“No, Jim, we talked about this. We did this together, I’m not lettin’ ya take the blame for this all by yaself. Plus, you need a place to stay-”

“I’ll not be in the same house as her. I’ve been lookin for a place for us anyway.”

“When the hell did ya start doin’ that?!”

“While ya were sleepin’. I’m goin to see about one of the places when ya go back to school. When you’re done, you can move in with me, if you want. We’ll take this at whatever pace ya want.”

“Jim-”

“I meant it when I said I’m all in. I don’t care how angry she gets, we’ve put this off long enough. Yesterday was more than the final straw.”

“Jim, just-”

“I’m not changin’ my mind, Angel. This is happening.”

And that was that.

He went to your Mother’s house later that day, and came back when it was extremely late. The look on his face let you know that he was exhausted. 

“I just...I need a minute, Angel,” he sighed, putting your things down before he went over to the counter and made himself a drink. 

You waited a moment before you asked, “did ya tell her about us, Jim?”

He took a long sip before he answered, “I almost did. She was screamin’ and cryin...kept tryin’ to kiss me. There was a lot of yellin’ and back and forth...she wouldn’t just feckin’ drop it.”

“Jim-”

“Rose was there too, screamin’ her feckin head off at me. Finally your Mum just came right out and asked if there’s somethin’ goin on, and I almost said it. I ‘m so tired of hidin’, but I won’t do that to ya. I won’t blindside you like that. I’ll wait till ya back at school-”

“Jim, no. We said we’ll tell her together and thats what we’re gonna do-”

“Angel-”

“No, Jim. I did this with ya and I was all too happy to. We’re in this together,” you told him softly. “After I graduate and am all moved in-”

“You’re movin in after?”

“Don’t ya want me to?”

“Do you want to, Angel? Are ya sure?”

“I want this, Jim. I want all of it. It’s messy and it’ll be messy for a while, but I want to. I want us,” you smiled softly. 

You laughed hard as he tackled you back onto the bed and showered you with kisses.

“Jim!”

“Where are those fuckin’ handcuffs?” he growled, kissing your neck and you laughed even harder.

And that set the tone of your relationship.

Jim went with you when you went back to school, giving you your last gift as promised once you both arrived. It was a book full of all of John Keats’ work, and you nearly cried. You didn’t know he’d been paying so much attention to you. He stayed with you for a few days, making sure you were okay and settled in well enough before getting back. You two talked every day, FaceTiming when you could, and him constantly keeping you up to date on the moving situation. When you’d ask how your Mother was treating him, he’d just change the subject, and you knew it was because he didn’t want to make you upset.

With the way she was constantly calling and texting you, you knew she wasn’t handling it well, and it didn’t take a genius to realize that she was giving Jim hell. In a weak attempt to get back in your good graces, she gave you your inheritance early.

An inheritance you knew nothing about.

“What’s all this, then?” you sighed once she answered the phone.

“My Sweet Girl-”

“Mum, what’s this? Where did all of this money come from?” you sighed as Jim settled in next to you.

“It’s your inheritance. Your grandparents left it for you.”

“Ya don’t think ya could’ve told me about it earlier?”

“I didn’t see the need to, since your schoolin’ is covered and ya make your own money.”

“Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Y/N, please just talk to me. I miss you.”

“I really don’t have anythin’ to say to ya. Ya were loud and clear on Christmas-”

“I’m so fuckin’ sorry-”

“Now, Jim has left ya and ya wanna make amends?”

“You’re my daughter-”

“A hell of a time for you to remember-”

“Y/N-”

“I’ve gotta go. I’ve got a paper due.”

“My Darling-”

“I’ll talk to ya,” you muttered before hanging up as Jim held you close. He brought his kids to come and see you, and they were happy that you wanted to stay in their lives even though he wasn’t with your Mother anymore. Every other weekend, he brought them, and you’d all do fun activities when your school work was done. You could tell that even they knew there was a change in your relationship with their Father, but they just smiled and kept it to themseleves. You were surprised to see them so happy about such an awkward situation.

However, it wasn’t always Heaven on Earth.

“Who is he, then?!” Jim snapped once you two were back in your dorm room.

“He’s just a study buddy, Jim. Why are ya givin’ me such a hard time about this?!”

“He looked way too cozy-”

“And I pushed him away. I don’t want anyone but ya. I don’t understand why we ‘ave to argue!”

“What goes on when I’m not here, eh?” he questioned, hands on his hips.

That had your blood boiling.

“The fuck does that mean?!”

“Has he come over-”

“I’m gonna give you the chance to take that back right now!”

“Is he who you were seein? The boy ya went on dates with?!”

“I haven’t seen that guy since I broke it off! Why are ya actin’ like this?! Jim, I love you! I only want to be with you!”

“Cause we started off differently, yeah? Just as innocent?!”

You shoved him away from you with all the force you could muster.

“Get out!” you shouted as tears streamed down your face.

You knew he had a bit of a temper, but you never thought he’d be this way with you.

“Feck this,” he scoffed before he grabbed his coat and stormed out.

You can’t remember the last time you cried so hard. However, he didn’t let you live in your misery long. 20 minutes later, he showed up at your door with flowers in hand and a sullen look on his face.

“Angel, I’m so sorry. I had no right and I’m sorry.”

“I would never do that to ya, Jim!”

“I know amd I’m so sorry, Angel. I just get scared...it’ll never happen again,”he promised as he wrapped his arms around you.

That night, you two spent hours naked underneath your sheets, with him apologizing profusely. Your Mother also showed up, banging on your door that night.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” she sobbed as Jim picked up his pace and smirked at the way you tried to muffle your moans. “Please just talk to me!”

“Focus on us, Angel,” he husked softly against your neck. “Let me make it all better. I love you so much,” he groaned as he entwined his fingers with yours.

“Y/N!” your Mother called again.

“Fuck, just be here with me,” he groaned as you wrapped your right leg around his waist.

As fucked up as it is, you’ve never orgasmed so hard in your life.

And that’s how it’s been. You and Jim having little falling outs ever so often, but always work it out. Yes, the sex was constant, but it’s not the only thing you two ever do. They’re dates, nights when he holds you as you do your work, you make him laugh when he’s stressed about work, and you both always comort and console one another when life is getting to be a bit much.

It’s not easy, but you two make it work.

“Jim, ya don’t have to take me out to dinner,” you laugh as you put on the ruby red necklace hes just gifted you.

“I want to and I made reservations,” he laughs. “So, hurry up.”

“I’m almost ready, I just can’t find my...there they are!” you squeal, once you find your witch boots. 

“We should start movin’ ya things to the apartment, Angel,” he comments as you put on your jean jacket.

“It’s too early-”

“Not all of your things,” he defends, “just some of them.”

“Jim-”

“Your graduation will be here before you know it. We should start moving your things in.”

“Ya don’t think it’s too soon?”

“I’d move ya in today if I could,” he smirks, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in for a kiss. “I can’t wait to spend every day with ya.”

“I love you so much, Jim.”

“I love you too, Angel. Lets go eat, yeah?”

“Lets,” you smile up at him, taking your hand in his. “Where are ya takin me anyway?”

“It’s a surprise,” he chuckles as he opens your door, only to reveal your Mom standing there.

Her face goes from woefully happy to extremely hurt in seconds.

“Ya fuckin’ jokin’ right now,” she mumbles softly as tears start streaming down her face. “Ya both feckin’ told me-”

“Y/M/N, this is not the time or place,” Jim warns lowly as he feels your hand tremble. 

“Ya both said-”

“Just come inside and we can have a proper-” you start only to be cut off by her hand slapping you hard across the face.

“Oi!” he yells, standing between the two of you. “Leave, now!” he demands, as tears begin to gather in your eyes.

“Fuck the both of ya,” your Mother sniffles before storming off.

“Well, at least she knows,” you cry, touching the warm spot on your face.

“Angel-”

“Can we just order somethin’ tonight?”

“Anything you want, Angel,” Jim promises softly, wiping your tears from your eyes.

God help you both navigate the Hell that’s about to reign down on the both of you.

~~

[chromatic-lamina]

Chapter 1156 (part 2). One Piece Spoilers

This will be a little quicker than my run down of the empresses that are featured in 1156.

I'm gonna post frames a little out of order first cos' I wanna post another of my queens (1156 features Shakky and Gloriosa prominently), and that is this diva:

Big Mom. You know that most of my chapter posts are just about what I particularly like, so it does not mean that anything that is left out is of lesser importance, but just that others have already said it, said it better, or I don't have commentary. Let's backtrack.

Roger is as impetuous as Luffy, and rather than work at getting his treasure and food back from the Kuja pirates (panels below), he opts to fight Garp, who holds a far greater attraction for him than Gloriosa, but we all knew that! (I've got a fic about that too. Haha. Roger and Garp as childhood friends). Panel above and last strip below.

Then we switch to Elbaph and Loki's worship of Rocks, and Ida's too-good-to-be-true (but seems to be true) love for everyone, and Harald actually having a modicum of input (but not as well-placed as it could be, and not on his son's side. Like, I know I'd be scared of Loki too, but yeah, definite cause and effect with this guy).

Ida speaking the truth, though. Other blogs will cover the Loki stuff in depth, like @wyvernslovecake, so look out for them. I'm glad that Harald still visits Ida and Hajrudin, though. Seems the old blokes of the village couldn't control that.

Then back to a few folks grandstanding and coming in to join Rocks' crew on Hachinose, and to shoot eyes in fish shaped rocks to make them look like skull shaped rocks (it might not have been so honeycombed with bullets, etc. at this stage of the story).

The story unfolds that a particular devil fruit will be very powerful if Harald eats it, and it's also linked to the frozen giants we saw at Punk Hazard (although they have not been located at this point of the story - panels below), and

that it seems they'll follow Harald if he eats the devil fruit. But, yeah, does someone like Moria need to bring the frozen giants to life (which he has done with a number of this crew), or will they reanimate once they're thawed? A young Kaidou suggests

forcing Harald to eat the fruit (screencap above), but Rocks has some form of camaraderie with some folks some of the time, and Harald happens to be one of them (so, Kaidou might've got his arse handed to him if everyone ganged up on him, but he seems plenty strong already).

Also, I know I've seen folks say that Oda draws similar men's faces, but look at the variety of eyes of these three pirates on the bottom row compared to the gloriosa/shakky/nami combo earlier in the chapter. That's just an aside).

We get this final wonderful panel of the Rocks pirates in their element -- apparently destined for disintegration, but it'd be great if they could bring down (or replace?) the powers that be in Mary Geoise before that happens. (Also, look how tall Big Mom is. Awesome!). Edit in: Or maybe not so great, considering their personalities (sans Whitebeard, and maybe elements of Stussy).

I've got a Big Mom and Shakky (and Kaidou) ficlet from roughly this timeframe (and from 2020) here!

[surreal-duck]

live drama adaptations part 2 (prev)

cast reveal and girls movie night 🔥

[fictionadventurer]

Potential August Reads:

Middlemarch by George Eliot

Shane by Jack Schaefer

Journey to the Center of the Earth by Jules Verne

Then Comes a Drifter by C.M. Banschbach

Something science fiction

Something by Pope Benedict XVI

[kirisclangen]

Zelda

She/her, 65 moons, cis molly

[gingergari]

baby’s first fakemon 🎉

Brairn

Type: Grass/Rock

Height: 8’0” 2.4 m Weight 247.0 lbs 112.0 kg

Ability: Wayfinder, Sturdy (Hidden)

Wayfinder is the Brairn evolution family’s signature ability. This Pokémon’s moves will always hit, but it will always move last.

Pokédex Entry 1: Brairn prefer to remain stationary if possible. Hikers can reliably use them as cairns.

Pokédex Entry 2: It is believed that Brairn originated from the emotions and spirit of hikers on trails.

Origins: Brairn appear to be based on mossy cairns.

Etymology: Bryophyta, the taxonomic division of moss + Cairn

Brairn evolve into ??? at level 31.

[ackee]

me wishing i could capitalize on promoting my art this black history month but i am burnt thee fuck out with no end in sight

[cuteniaarts]

Digitalised + coloured + redesigned version of my Suiren and Vaatu sketch from two days ago, as promised!!

Coming up with Suiren’s design was a very long process of trying and failing because after you’ve drawn 9+ different versions of one character, the creativity starts to run a little dry, but I’m actually really proud of this one, she looks absolutely adorable <3

(Also yeah I did mostly just scribble Vaatu’s pattern because who has the energy to draw the all out accurately. Not me, that’s who, I’m chronically tired. People who draw him on the regular have my utmost respect. He’s still a funky little guy though :D)

Bonus, Raava incessantly screaming inside Suiren (and being completely ignored because Suiren is tired of her) while all this is happening:

[pickaropoprocks]

I think it's lowkey a bit insane how I think about prsk for almost every second of the day and yet I can only bring myself to actually open the game for like. 5 minutes a week. Meanwhile I have minimal brainrot for Uma but I will sink HOURS into the game daily like hello,,,,,,