#Helpful Information for Choosing Paper Cups

[sabokunsmalia]

ʚ 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗬𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗙𝗨𝗖𝗞, 𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗥𝗬, 𝗞𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗪𝗜𝗧𝗛 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗠 (𝗔𝗢𝗧 𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗜𝗢𝗡) ɞ

featuring: levi ackerman, eren yeager, erwin smith plot: very easy, asking them the fmk question, and seeing their reaction. mature content ahead!! content warning: mentions of sex, mdni!! hi it's malia: please, i can't get those hot aot men out of my hand anymore, but i will definitely do a one piece version too!

ʚ levi ackerman ɞ

"okay, listen," you raised your flat hands in front of your boyfriend, smiling widely. the way, you ran into his office without knocking, and how you stuttered between words because of your excitement, already informed levi that hange placed another parasite inside of your head. another little thing, she created. "let's play a little game."

"what game?" levi questioned, not a single muscle twitching in his face as he closely watched how you moved. and he already despised himself for even asking about it, and allowing you to explain further. "hange told me -"

"four eyes again," the captain scoffed, holding the small cup of tea in his signature kind of hold. bringing the brim to his mouth, he poured a sip of his favorite green tea into his mouth. eyes never leaving your face. "it's called fuck, marry, kill," you explained to him, clapping the flat hands together in excitement.

"fucking hange, what's that kind of fucked up game?" levi mumbled against the cup, holding it close in front of his mouth. actually, he wanted to smile, the left corner of his mouth already curling up slightly and the drink helped him to cover up. hange always came up with the worst games, and yet the funniest names. she was truly a specialist. "i give you three names, and you will tell me who you would rather fuck, marry or kill," you explained to your boyfriend, raising a finger with each choice.

"kill everyone, fuck and marry you," levi answered without moving a muscle, his voice still a deep and steady melody to your ears. blinking repeatedly at him, your lips parted and mouth opened, you wanted to scold him but the syllables died down on your tongue. "that's... that's not how it works, levi!" you complained, throwing the stack of papers placed in your lap on the table in front of you. the one piece of furniture which truly separated your two presences from each other.

"works for me," the captain shrugged the shoulders, the sole kind of emotion you were getting from him. a stupid answer for a stupid question. he would never decide between marrying or fucking you. what a stupid thing to even ask him.

ʚ eren yeager ɞ

"let's play a game," you suggested, turning around to switch positions. eren was sprawled out beside you in the double bed. an arm behind his head, a book placed in his lap as he read about several historical events. you turned from your side onto your belly, legs lifted and crossed in the air. elbow propped up on the comfortable duvets, the chin placed in the span of your soft palm.

eren seemed interested in what you proposed, wanting to hear more about the game. a thick, dark brown eyebrow raised in your direction, a couple of strands from his messy bun fell into his face. he looked way too good to be real, you always questioned how you ended up with such an attractive and sweet man.

"it's called fuck, marry, kill," you spoke up again, looking up through your thick, black lashes with a smile. oh, almost so innocent as when you tried to lure him into another exhausting activity. pull him into your deep spell again while hands wander. "continue," eren watched you closely, gesturing with his free hand in a circle to sign what to do.

"i give you three names, and you decide which one to fuck, marry or kill. you can only choose each option and each name once," you explained the instructions with raised brows, satisfied with how eren's attention lingered on your lips while talking. the brown-haired male nodded at your explanation, a one-sided smile on his face while waiting for the names.

"historia, me," you raised a finger for each name that once was spoken in connection with eren's relationship status. "and mikasa." and hers made you swallow as your throat tightened. you remembered exactly how long they had been dating, and that they still cared about each other, it made some situations difficult. "mh," eren hummed, closing his eyes as he thought about his answer.

"eren." you used your free hand to gently push your boyfriend, tellin him with actions that he was taking too long to answer. at least for your liking. you always felt like your confidence disappeared the moment mikasa was mentioned. "oh right," he chuckled confidently, playing with the messy bun on the back of his head. "easy, i would marry you because it's a lifetime thing. wouldn't want to waste my years with another woman when i could have you,"

you nodded your heart, feeling your heart thudding in your chest. eren's answer was sweet, so romantic but you still waited until saying a thing yourself. "kill historia, which would result in my own death trial, and fuck mikasa. just a one-time thing," eren shrugged his shoulders, not doubting his choices at all. you nodded your head, slightly disappointed about his choice but satisfied with his descriptions.

ʚ erwin smith ɞ

erwin had his gaze anchored on the stack of papers while trying to write down the notes of their last mission for the government. running his thick fingers through his blonde strands, the hair already looked like the greatest mess. "you need a break," you interfered with his circle of thoughts, raising your eyebrows at your boyfriend. he's been focused on his work for the past six hours, while you entered and exited his office multiple times. bringing him coffee, or a meal so he wouldn't avoid eating and drinking for an entire day.

"don't have time for breaks, babe," erwin answered, not even glancing up from the one paper in front of him. between the multiple files of murdered veterans and new cadets, erwin was responsible for them all as the commander.

"let's play a quick game, it will give you a slight stress reduction," you tried to convince him, leaning forward to place your elbows on your knees. the couch was starting to get uncomfortable from seating for hours, and waiting to finally receive attention.

"what game?" the pen slipped out of his grip, and he finally leaned back in the chair for the first time in hours. not even while eating the sandwich you made, he looked up or changed into a comfortable posture. "it's called fuck, marry, kill,"

"i'm intrigued," he admitted, placing his flat hand on his thigh, waiting for you to explain the rules of this little game. "i give you three names, and you have to give each name one of those, but can't use them twice. neither name nor option," you explained the quick rules, gesturing around with your hands. really hoping that it would not change his interest in the game. nodding his head repeatedly, erwin smiled. "alright, give me them names,"

"hm," soft fingertips rubbed along your chin, trying to find the perfect three names instead of speaking clear answers yourself. "levi, hange and me," you clapped your hands together, looking back at your boyfriend with a smile.

"interesting choice with levi," erwin chuckled quietly to himself, placing his thick fingers at his chin while overthinking. "marrying you, that's the easy answer for me, i would like to say kill both because i'm not entirely intrigued by the idea of fucking my subordinates but since hange's only loving titans, i would have to kill her. i'm not some fucking experiment," erwin did not look up from his thighs, overthinking what he was saying while trying to find explanations.

"you would fuck levi?" you raised your eyebrows, pupils slightly dilated while a smile crept its way on your lips. "for the game, it's my only leftover option," erwin did not seem pleased with the option but still somehow satisfied that his answers did not seem to bother you at all.

"great, that makes two of us," you clapped your hands together, stifling a laugh as confusion and surprise twisted Erwin's features.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Training Part 2

Prompt: Enemies to Lovers type. You and Gibbs never got along, and luckily you never really had to work with each other…until now.

Part 1

It was entirely too early in the morning when you walked through the NCIS squad room with Fornell in front of you.

"Woah. Rough night Agent L/N?" DiNozzo jabbed, instantly pressing all the wrong buttons. You decided to bite your tongue this time and ignore him before seeing an opportunity to get back at him. As he handed some papers to McGee, you swiftly stole his seat and leaned back in it exaggeratively, while sipping on your fresh cup of coffee.

"Ha ha Agent L/N. Now get out of my seat."

"Make me Agent DiNozzo." You stared him down as his colleagues and Fornell watched, wondering what was going to happen next. He chuckled to himself and turned around as Gibbs walked in.

"Gibbs. Tell her to get out of my seat," he practically whined, making you snicker.

"Daddy Gibbs isn't going to help you DiNozzo," you ridiculed, catching the eye of said Agent as he took a seat at his desk. Choosing to give up, DiNozzo went to sit on the edge of Agent Bishop's desk. She didn't look too thrilled about it but didn't say anything.

"So you two interrogated Ramos and got a name, right?" Fornell asked, bringing the conversation to work.

"He's not talking. As soon as we brought up our Petty Officer, he closed up tighter than a clam," McGee answered.

"Let me at him. I'll get him talking," you offered, causing DiNozzo to snort.

"Well if we need you to shoot him, you'll be the first to know," he quipped.

You were about to snap on him but Gibbs saved his ass again by inturrupting.

"Fine. Agent L/N, you're with me. Tobias, Abby will fill you in on evidence findings we collected from the crime scene."

You left DiNozzo's chair and waited as Gibbs grabbed his gun and badge from the desk drawer.

"What about us, boss?" DiNozzo bellyached.

"You keep doing what you were doing DiNozzo. We'll be back."

As you passed the tall Agent, you made sure to give him a small shoulder check, silently laughing to yourself as he made a face. Maybe working with NCIS wasn't so bad. It was definitely entertaining.

- - - -

The drive to the bar you knew Ramos to frequent was quiet as neither one of you had anything to say. You turned the radio on to a pop station but it was shut off by Gibbs, making you huff and send him a glare.

Both you and Gibbs walked into the musty smelling bar and you immediately spotted Ramos sitting at a booth, back to you, drinking a pint of beer.

"What is your plan?" Gibbs asked, stopping you.

"Too do the job that your agents failed to do."

He sighed in annoyance as you led the way, sliding in to take a seat right next to Ramos as Gibbs sat across from him. Before he had a chance to leave, you pulled out your badge and showed him discreetly.

"Hey Ramos. I'm with the FBI and I believe you already know Agent Gibbs."

"I don't know what you plan on asking me that you haven't already. I don't know anything, remember?" he spoke confidently while taking a sip of his drink.

You looked over at Gibbs who just sat there, stoic expression on his face. Scooting in closer to Ramos, you leaned in by his ear as he visibly became uncomfortable.

"Oh I haven't interrogated you yet Ramos. See, Gibbs and his lackeys do it all by the book. Bring you in, sit you down in a room and ask a bunch of questions, then let you go. I prefer the simpler way. You come to this bar every Friday around 5pm, after working at the gas station. You play in their little pool tournament every month, and even have your picture posted up on the wall as champion. No, I'm not going to interrogate you. I'm gonna ask one question and if you cant answer said question, I'm gonna let everyone in this bar know that you're an official informant for the FBI. I could probably bet that there are a few questionable individuals here that would hate to hear that information, don't you think?"

A couple second went by as you waited for him to break. He licked his lips nervously, confidence now completely gone and his eyes looked to Gibbs who just shrugged.

"She doesn't work for me. I can't tell her what to do."

Another few seconds went by and you moved to stand up, but Ramos' hand shot out to stop you.

"Alright, alright. What do you want to know?"

You smirked and gave Agent Gibbs an arrogant wink.

"Tell me everything you know about the death of Petty Officer Killbourne. And please, the more details the better."

- - - -

Once you left the bar and got into the car, Gibbs laid into you.

"That's not the way you should've handled it in there."

"Oh yeah? Because your way was getting us soo far."

"We don't threaten people for answers Agent L/N. You can't be so negligent."

If he thought that was being negligent, he was delusional. You didn't do anything wrong and you actually got a lead on your case, something Gibbs couldn't say the same for himself.

"Negligent?! First of all Gibbs, it wasn't a threat. Second of all, my "negligence" got us a very important lead that will now help us continue our investigation and bring down this asshole. You might not like the way I do things but you're just gonna have to suck it up because I'm here until this is done."

He didn't reply back, but just started the car and drove back to the Navy Yard, you practically jumping out of the car once he parked. In the squad room, you didn't bother waiting for him before debriefing the team on your findings and talking with Fornell about arranging a sting operation. The rest of the day, you stayed as far from the silver haired agent as you could, only giving him one worded answers, if any, when he asked you a question.

He seemed to have the same mindset, acting as if you weren't there, never looking you in the eye, just in your direction. The entire team, including Fornell were uneasy but you weren't backing down.

It wasn't until you found out that Gibbs had his team follow a lead without looping you in that you lost it. The next time you saw him, he was getting into the elevator and you made damn sure to get there before it closed.

He visibly made a face of annoyance once you joined him and the doors shut behind you.

"Why wasn't I or Fornell informed about your team finding another lead?"

"I told Fornell," he answered presumptuously, not looking at you.

"Yeah, after you had McGee and Torres meet with our suspects dealers. Listen, if this is some pissing match to you-

He leaned over, flicking the emergency stop switch, causing the elevator to abruptly stop and closed in on you.

"This is about a dead Marine, Agent L/N. I'm not here to impress anyone, especially the FBI. If you want in on our investigation and leads, than start acting like a Federal Agent and less like an immature probie."

As he had you cornered, you finally saw the look that everyone talked about. The stare that could get even the hardest of criminals spilling the beans. But in that moment, you weren't scared. No, you were turned on.

You glanced away from his burning blue eyes to his lips and back to his eyes.

"And stop doing that," he warned.

"Doing what?"

He took a step closer, successfully trapping you against the wall and leaned in to growl in your ear.

"You know what you're doing Agent. I could feel how needy you were for me in the training room just like how I can feel it now. Do you do this with every agency you work with?"

Your breath got caught in your throat at his words and couldn't help but egg it on. You looked up at him as you let your fingers trail along his beltline, dangerously close to where you really wanted to touch.

"No, just you, funny enough," you whispered.

He reached up and gently grabbed your chin, brushing his thumb across your slightly open bottom lip. Your heart was racing as the tension continued to build.

"This is completely unprofessional," he stated, making you smirk.

"Than do something about it, Agent Gibbs."

He leaned in closer as if to kiss you but stopped and dropped his hand, backing off and flipping the emergency switch back on. You stood up straighter and took a breath, trying not to look like you weren't about to just get fucked in the elevator as Gibbs shifted his stance.

It did nothing to hide the obvious bulge in his pants and you smiled to yourself. Once the elevator doors opened to the Lab floor, you watched as he made a hard left turn for the bathroom as you continued on to Abby.

"Hey Gibbs- Oh, you're not Gibbs," she said, surprised.

"No, but he's right behind me. A little too much coffee I think," you hinted, making her smile.

"Yeah, that makes sense. Well, until he joins us, I'll just go over the new information I gathered about the murder weapon."

You listened to Abby talk and Gibbs joined a few minutes later, standing a bit closer to you than usual.

[hyunniesgirl]

Call it what you want

Pairing: Hyunjin x fem!reader

Summary: You and Hyunjin were never on the best terms but when you're cheated on and your ex is trying to get you back, Hyunjin does everything he can to prevent it from happening.

Genre: enemies(ish) to lovers, smut, fluff

Words count: 4,038

A/N: all my gratitude and appreciation to my bestie @baby-yongbok who proofread this chapter for me 🩷 thank you so much for the help girly!!!

Warnings for this chapter: gaslight, drinking, mentions of violence, sexual tension, insecure thoughts(if there's anything missing let me know)

Chapter two: Drunk

Previous chapter: shameless

Next chapter: the most precious thing

+18 minors do not interact!!!

You couldn't sleep a wink thinking about the whole situation. ‘Is there something wrong with me?’ Is the only thing that comes to mind when you think about your love life.

You're just so angry and not just because you were cheated on. You can't believe you got so worked up after kissing Hyunjin and his reaction was nearly nonexistent? NOTHING?

Of course you didn't expect it to be the best kiss of his life, he was doing you a favor after all but you got pretty excited and he didn't even get flustered? That's kinda offensive.

After your break up, Eric tried talking to you at school so your friends came up with a system so he wouldn't bother you until you felt ready to face him. You found out after a week that someone filmed Ryujin and Changbin beating the shit out of your ex after you left the party and that made you feel pretty satisfied, it's nice knowing that your friends have your back. So that's the reason he doesn't try getting close to you when your friends are around. Now you are never alone, you always have one of your friends in one of your classes and because you're finishing your course you could choose some electives that overlap with theirs. And luckily most of your class courses are with Chaeryeong.

The problem and the reason why you're so mad is that Hyunjin is sticking around too much, more than he ever did. He is always around the exact friend that's having class with you and you're starting to think that he's doing it on purpose. You’ve had to deal with seeing his disgustingly handsome face every fucking day and it’s been nothing but torture considering the kiss and all of its aftermath. Almost a month has passed since you and Eric broke up. The day after you told him to fuck off, you unblocked his contact just to inform him things were over between you two if it wasn't already pretty obvious.

After communication class you were pretty exhausted, so you and Changbin went to the cafe in front of the school so that you could repay him with a drink of his choice for going out of his way to help protect you from your ex. That's when Hyunjin comes barging into the shop. Why does he always look like he's glowing? He's wearing perfectly fitted clothes as if they were custom made just for him, his hair falls in glamorous waves, it's longer than most men wear but it's just right for him. Long story short: he's hot. You have to admit it and it's really annoying, actually. Why does the guy you dislike have to be so stunning?

"Hey", he says, taking his sunglasses off, bumping fists with Changbin and nodding at you in an attempt to greet you.

"I'm going to order, I'll get yours", he says, seeing the pager light up and buzz on the table.

He asks for a large Iced Americano and the attendant gives him your order. He sees that there's some writing on the coffee sleeve of your drink.

"Hey, saw you and thought you're cute. If you want to hang out sometime, call me: xxx xxxx-xxxx" Hyunjin scoffs, his jaw clenching. He tears the paper apart and throws it in the trash before heading back over to you and Changbin.

"They forgot to put a cup sleeve on mine", you say pouting as you take the drink from Hyunjin's hands. He finds you so cute it's difficult not to smile.

"I can get an extra when I get my order", he suggests and you frown, a strange urge to accept his kindness but you're too proud for that.

"No need, it's not that hot." That’s a lie, it is really hot, but you don't want to accept his help.

"I'm going to meet Chaeryeong, so you can wait for the drink with him, Binnie." You say as you put your bag on your shoulder and wave goodbye. Hyunjin's eyes follow you as you leave, watching you until you are out of his sight.

Chaeryeong was not far, so you thought it wouldn't be a problem to go alone looking for her. When you hear Eric's voice calling for you, you pretend like you didn't and just walk faster looking around for your friend, until he grabs your arm forcing you to look at him.

"Babe, I was calling you, didn't you hear me?", he asks and for a moment you think you're crazy. Didn't he cheat on you? Didn't you break up? Why's he acting like nothing happened?

"What do you want?"

"I missed you", he says, getting closer, giving you puppy eyes and caressing the arm he is holding.

"Don’t pretend like everything is okay." You shake your arm out of his grip. "We broke up, I don’t want to talk to you anymore."

"What did I do that was so wrong?" He asks, His expression void of embarrassment

"What did you do? Are you fucking joking right now?"

"Don’t you think you’re exaggerating?" He asks, pouting. "It meant nothing to me, if you just let me explain-"

'Is he trying to look like the victim while I’m the jealous girlfriend? Doesn't he have a conscience?' You knew this would happen, you knew he would try to talk his way out of this. You take your phone out of your pocket and show him the picture you took of him at the party. His eyes grow wide.

"I’m not going to let you gaslight me into thinking I'm crazy." He tries to take the phone out of your hand but is stopped by a very angry Changbin.

"I see I should have beat you more", he spits, coming in between the two of you. "Get her out of here"

Hyunjin comes over to you, he puts a hand on the small of your back and leads away from the both of them. You're worried about your friend, he could get into trouble if they fight, so you can't help but to take a few glances in their direction until you are too far to see them.

You feel tears running down your face and you can’t seem to stop them. You’re so angry, so hurt. If Eric had only admitted what he did, you wouldn’t hate him so much, but he’s just pretending you’re overreacting and trying to get his way. Everyday you try to push aside the hurt you’re bearing, the feelings of insecurity and anxiety. You have to convince yourself that you did nothing wrong, that he’s the one at fault. You’re afraid of falling in love again, scared of having to go through all of this heartbreak and pain again. Love shouldn’t be like this, love should be light and carefree.

"I can’t believe he showed up when you were alone", Hyunjin says, pulling you out of your worried and anxious thoughts. You look around and notice how far you are from Changbin now.

"I expected it" You say, sighing as you wipe your tears.

"He’s such an asshole, trying to deceive you like that." You scoff, feeling mad. He's not that different.

"Do you think you’re better than him?" You ask and he looks at you, frowning.

"You lead girls on over and over" You continue. You’re trying to hurt him. You want him to feel the hurt that you felt. You know it’s not fair, but it has not been fair to you either. Why do you have to be the only one feeling miserable? He stares at you for what feels like an eternity, sighing before answering.

"I never give false hope to other people", you take a deep breath, you really thought he would lie to you, say he doesn't know what you’re talking about.

"I never accept the confessions of the girls who have feelings for me", he continues, "and the ones I occasionally go out with know I won't date them, it's not my fault that they think they can change me or whatever they choose to take that risk." He sounds hurt, exactly the way you wanted, so why do you feel even worse?

"I don’t see how I’m like him." He finishes, making you feel like your chest is sinking.

"I-"

"We finally found you!" You hear Changbin’s voice and you look towards the sound, he and Chaeryeong look tired, they’re breathing heavily and sweating.

"We searched for you everywhere, why didn’t you answer your messages?", Chaeryeong asks, hugging you.

"I didn’t realize how much time had passed." You say as your eyes stay locked on Hyunjin. He’s avoiding your gaze again just like he did at the party, looking to the floor and making your chest ache even more.

"I’m sorry for worrying you", he says, "I gotta go"

You see him walking away, not glowing so much anymore. You wanted to call his name and apologize, say you shouldn’t have snapped at him like that, but you’re too proud for that. Too proud to apologize to one of the people that came to your rescue when you needed it the most lately. You suck. You really do.

•••

Hyunjin didn’t come around for the next week, your friends even complained about how distant he was. It couldn't be because of your conversation, right? He wouldn't be like that because of something you said. He didn't like you, it doesn't even make sense for him to care about what you say. When the weekend rolls around and you barely see him you feel weird, if you didn't know any better you would think that you're missing him and that wouldn't make sense.

Chan was cooking for the night, your Saturday had been awfully boring, so when he proposed a dinner at his house you accepted right away. His cooking is so good you're salivating with just the smell of onions and garlic. Changbin and Minho are playing Just Dance while Seungmin and I.N. are playing pokémon. Chaeryeong is by your side, complaining about a class you're not into, while Jisung and Felix are helping Chan. The only ones missing are Yeji, who's coming with Ryujin and Hyunjin, that you were informed is not coming.

"Why can't Hyunjinnie come, again?" Changbin asks while waiting for their points to be calculated on the game.

"He said it's school stuff but I bet it's because of a girl", Jisung says and you feel that weird ache in your chest once again.

What does it matter to you if he's with some girl? You not only rejected his request to be friends, you also said some pretty bad things to him. You deserve it if he never looks at you again, you still can't believe you said that to him, just because you were feeling bad doesn't mean you get to treat people that way. You sigh to your own thoughts receiving a suspicious look from Chaeryeong.

"Nah", Minho answers, "he's been hooked on the same chick for quite some time now".

You look at Minho, frowning. You didn't know Hyunjin liked someone. So why was he kissing someone else at the party? Weirdly enough, you swear you saw Minho eyeing you.

****

The moment that Chaeryeong introduced you to them, Hyunjin knew he was done for. Everything about you was appealing to him: the way you smiled talking about the things you liked, how you fixed your hair after the wind messed it up, the way you bonded with all the guys and tried finding things in common with every one of them so that you all would get along.

He couldn't help but stare, your voice was so sweet and your eyes sparkled when you laughed. He tried to be subtle but everytime you joined their group he had the same reaction like a fucking teenager that can't talk to a pretty girl. So when you began acting distant only to him, he felt bad and offended, he didn't think he did anything to make you dislike him. After a while he became distant too so that you wouldn't feel uncomfortable, eventually you both started doing things to annoy each other. He only started bothering you so that you wouldn't just ignore him, he wanted you to acknowledge him even if it was in a bad way.

Hyunjin never disliked you the way you thought he did, when you started going out with Eric he was absolutely heartbroken but he wanted you to be happy even if it wasn’t with him.

So he put his feelings aside and started going out with other girls, maybe if enough time passed he could like someone else. You didn't see it, but his eyes were always on you. Always looking at you to make sure you were happy. He was right behind you when you found Eric at that party, after you walked away he could see your faltering steps, that's when he saw you fainting and caught you just in time. He told the guys about what happened before carrying you out of the house and taking you to his car, trying to be gentler than he ever was even with his paintings while adjusting you in the front seat.

You frowned even when you were unconscious, he couldn't even imagine how hurt you would be when you woke up. So he waited and waited till your eyes opened and he was relieved to see you were alright. He thought it wouldn't be good to drop the act at that moment, you could think he was pitying you. After you left the car he was sure you would cry your eyes out all alone and he couldn't do anything because the two of you weren’t close. So he urged your friends to message you asking to come by but they already had done that and you had rejected their offers. Of course you did, you like to look tough, someone that doesn't need others, but anyone that knows you a little better sees you're a softie.

When you showed up at the studio while he was painting he couldn't believe you actually came looking for him. He was so surprised to see you that he clumsily dropped the paints he was holding. He was planning to get closer to you, close enough so you would like him and when he knew you were over your shithead ex boyfriend he would go for it. Even if you didn't want to go out with him at first he would keep trying to woo you… Of course, he didn't want to force you to like him, he would wait for you to discover your feelings.

Everything went down the drain when you asked him to kiss you. Every bit of his self control just disappeared and when your lips touched his he was sure that you were it for him, the way just touching your soft lips made him feel like he was on fire, your hands wandering through his hair felt like the death of him. He could feel himself getting hard when the door opened abruptly, you silently left the closet and he fixed his pants so as not to show what was happening there. Hyunjin was embarrassed, if just one of your kisses could make him feel that way he could only imagine what it would feel like to actually have you. He couldn't stay there much longer, it was impossible to look at you without approaching you to get something more. But you weren't even looking at him, if you could just glance at him it would be enough, if you just looked at him he would be satisfied. Your eyes were staring at the floor, you didn't look pleased at all.

Did you regret kissing him? Was it that bad you couldn't even look at him? No one ever complained about that, so he thought he was good. Did he ruin everything?

He got out of the room, Hyunjin just couldn't be there for another second looking at your face full of contempt. He went downstairs looking for one of his friends and found Chan taking shots of tequila with a group of his juniors.

"Hey, wanna join us?" He asks and Hyunjin nods, maybe with one or two drinks he would feel better.

Hyunjin shouldn't have mixed drinks, he couldn't walk straight and his head was spinning. To make things worse he could swear he saw you coming in his direction so he went the other way to avoid you, he was afraid to say something stupid. That's when he found Chaeryeong, he asked her to help him get some water because he was not sure if he would be able to walk to the table where the drinks were. The moment his friend looked away someone grabbed him by the collar and kissed him. He wasn't sure of what was happening or if he was just imagining. He put his hands on the person's shoulder and stepped away feeling dizzy. Minho was close by so he dragged Hyunjin out of the party and gave him some water while he got some fresh air.

"Y/N", Hyunjin was babbling and Minho rolled his eyes.

"What is it?" He looked at his friend seated on the grass with his head between his legs, "Are you still hanging onto your crush on Y/N? Didn't you say that you would give up when she started dating?"

Minho asked those questions but he already knew the truth, his friend had never really stopped liking Y/N.

"Kissed her", Hyunjin grumbles rolling his tongue.

"What? When?"

"During that- that game" Hyunjin trips over his own tongue as he tries to answer.

“Dare…truth.. that one.” He answers, looking over at Minho with glazed eyes.

"And how did it go?" He asks, curious.

"Good, it was so so good I could die"

"Well, if you die you won't be able to kiss her again", Minho jokes seeing drunk Hyunjin pout with tears in his eyes.

"I wan kiss her again though" Minho laughs.

"Of course you do" He sighs bending down and slipping Hyunjin's right arm around his shoulder and lifting him, "Let's go home now so you can think about how to kiss her again"

Hyunjin could barely open his eyes when he woke up the next morning, he was really thirsty and his head felt like it could explode at any minute. However, he had one thing on his mind: Win you at any cost.

So he called all of your friends and asked which classes they picked this semester casually asking if any of your other friends were attending that same class. That's how he found out your schedule and sure, that sounds pretty stalkerish of him, but that's the only way he could get close to you without raising suspicion.

When you told him that he was the same as your ex he wanted earth to swallow him whole, he was so mad at himself for making you feel that way and he was hurt that you thought of him in that way. He couldn't look at you anymore, he was too hurt for that. He avoided you for the next week, afraid to meet your gaze and be faced with indifference or even worse, disgust. He didn't even attend the dinner Chan was doing because he couldn't bear to be in the same room with you. That's until he got drunk enough to make his liver beg for mercy, he couldn't even think straight anymore, so he went on a walk for some fresh air and he walked and walked until he was under a really familiar vertical garden.

•••

You got back from dinner after midnight, you are already in your pajamas ready to go to bed when you hear a "clank" coming from somewhere. You can't figure out the source of it so you ignore it until it happens again, you realize that the sound is coming from the door at the balcony. You get close trying to see what is causing the noise, You look down and notice a couple of rocks on your balcony. ‘Who the hell is throwing rocks at my window in the middle of the night?’ You open your window ready to curse at the culprit, when you look down you see Hyunjin looking at you with puppy eyes.

"What are you doing?" You ask and he smiles.

"I wanted to see your face" He answers simply.

"What are you talking about? Why would you want to see my face in the middle of the night, Hwang?"

"I like it when you say my surname" He giggles, "And the answer is: because you're beautiful" You blush wanting to die, why are you blushing? This guy is drunk for sure, bothering you in the middle of the night. So if you know that, why are you blushing? And why do you want to smile?

"Now that you got to see my face you can go home" You say, trying to close the window.

"Noooooo", he screams and you are sure he woke up half of the neighborhood. "I WANNA SEE YOUR FACE UP CLOSE"

"Shut up" You look around to make sure there's no one turning on their lights to see what's happening and when you look at him again Hyunjin is climbing the fence where the flowers are tangled in your vertical garden.

"What are you doing?" You whisper yell at him but he ignores you, continuing to climb until he's on your balcony.

You cross your arms in front of your chest looking at him, he's taking deep breaths but looking really proud of himself.

"I could have opened the door for you if you wanted to come up" You say.

"Oh" He says and smiles shyly, "I'm sorry, I wanted to be romantic" You feel your face hot before you can ask what the hell he's talking about. He looks totally disheveled, messy hair, clothes that look like pajamas and glasses he only uses at home or when he's tired and doesn't want to wear his contacts.

"Care to explain why you’re here?" You smell the alcohol on him so you can already guess.

"I already told you, I missed your pretty face", he answers, pouting like a child that has to answer to their mother after doing something wrong.

"No, you said you wanted to see my face and then said I'm beautiful, you didn't say you missed me" You pick at his words trying to think of a way to send him home without your friends knowing about this situation because you know that if they find out you're done for. They're gonna pester you for the rest of your life asking why Hyunjin would come after you while drunk and to be honest that's a question that you would like to know the answer to too.

"Ah, you're so smart, that's why I like you" He says walking and looking around your room.

"Is that right?" You ask, amused, maybe having him here while drunk isn't so bad.

"Yesssss, and you're pretty and nice and really funny and good at everything you do", you smile without even realizing, what is this guy doing to you?

"Okay, now you have to go home, alright? I have to sleep"

"Let me sleep with you, I'm really good at it" You choke on the air you inhaled, coughing violently.

"What?"

"Humm, I'm good at being the big spoon and I don't take much space in the bed and you can even sleep on my chest and I'll hug you" He's saying that and has the audacity to blush.

You decide to call the guys that lives with Hyunjin, you're not scared of their questions anymore because you're too afraid you're actually going to accept his proposition. You try Minho, and Changbin but no one's answering. Shit. You look back at Hyunjin and see him lying down on your bed.

"For god's sake, Hyunjin" You try shaking him to wake him up with no success. You sigh, what are you going to do now?

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

All characters in my writing are from my own imagination and don't represent nor reflect in any way the people in real life.

Taglist:

@hhwangsmoon @inara-a

[ravenclair]

In the Shadow of You | Hogwarts Legacy

☆ Summary | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

☆ Available on Wattpad

Chapter 12: Secrets

(Word count: 2,580)

You assured Sebastian that a visit to the hospital wing was unnecessary.

Instead, the two of you went straight to the Undercroft, having previously planned to meet there with Ominis and Anne after the game.

You spent the last few minutes putting Aguamenti to good use, drinking and refilling a glass of water with the charm. Mercifully, your temperature had decreased significantly during your walk back to the castle.

“I performed Legilimency again,” you confessed after finishing your third cup of water. “I wanted to. I was so angry—I wanted to know if they had information…about the tombs Niamh told us to look for.”

You looked down at your hands, clasped in front of you.

“Does…does that make me just as bad as them?”

Sebastian was quiet for a moment, weighing his next words carefully.

“When it comes to magic, I’ve always believed that it isn’t the spell that’s necessarily bad. It’s the caster, what they intend to do with it,” he began. “Even after everything that happened last year, part of me can’t help but stand by that belief.

“I lost my way, and that was my own fault. I was so desperate to save Anne that I…I forgot myself, and my actions reflected that,” Sebastian continued. “Using Legilimency—having this ability—doesn’t make you a bad person, it’s how you choose to wield it. Just questioning the morality of it shows what I already know, that you’re a damn good witch. A talented one, at that.”

You were holding back tears, hearing his words.

This entire mess you’d gotten into had taken its toll on you these last few weeks. You tried to ignore the guilt, the stress, the fear. Tried to bottle them up, bury the negative emotions deeper and deeper, but you didn’t know how much more you could push down before you shattered.

But if it meant protecting those you cared most about, you’d persevere through whatever came your way. You refused to lose anyone else.

You turned to grab some parchment and ink from atop the wooden desk you were both leaning on. You quickly sketched what you’d seen in the Legilimens’ memory.

“Do you recognize this?”

Sebastian leaned over your shoulder, staring at the parchment.

“Yes, it’s used to signify the Deathly Hallows. The cloak, the stone, and the wand,” he replied, tracing his finger over each shape as he named them.

“In the memories, this symbol was carved into a bit of stone near a rock formation. I’ve seen it before, in the Forbidden Forest.”

You turned your head towards Sebastian, who was still leaning in closely. His brows were furrowed in thought as he observed the symbol, his face inches from yours. You were overcome with the urge to admire it, to count every freckle decorating his face, even if it took hours.

Suddenly, he turned his face towards yours. His deep brown eyes met your own, intently holding your gaze. You could’ve sworn they dipped lower, just for a second, sneaking a glance at your lips.

You felt a rush of heat settle over your whole body that was definitely not a lingering effect of the fire charm. The air around you became tense, heavy with anticipation.

Ever so slowly, the space between your faces grew smaller.

Footsteps echoed from the stone steps, voices floating down from the Undercroft entrance. You immediately returned your attention to the parchment, trying to calm your erratic heartbeat.

“S-should we tell Ominis and Anne?” you asked, your voice coming out a pitch higher than normal. You swallowed thickly.

Sebastian swiped up the paper and folded it before shoving it into his back pocket. “Let’s keep this between us…for now. We’ll tell them when the time is right.”

You couldn’t help but sense some underlying meaning to his words.

⋆｡°✩

You paced leisurely in front of the entrance to the Forbidden Forest, the Ministry of Magic’s ‘DANGEROUS’ sign planted firmly in the ground to warn students away.

You’d spent a fair amount of time in the Forest during fifth year, and, while you’d become desensitized to most of its threats, there was a small part of you that was still unnerved by it.

Mostly due to the giant spiders.

You’d spent the morning in the library with Anne. As promised, you were helping her with the extra assignments given by her professors and doing some schoolwork of your own. She left a few hours later, saying she was to meet with Nurse Blainey about a potential apprenticeship.

After lunch, you’d sent Sebastian an owl, telling him to meet you here, at the Forest entrance, to begin your search for the tomb. You hadn’t spoken with him since the previous afternoon, in the Undercroft, and you were a tad nervous at the thought of seeing him again.

You were well aware that the two of you had been walking a delicate line between friendship and something more for some time now, but yesterday was…different. It was as if, just for a moment, that line had disappeared completely.

You sighed and kicked a pebble on the ground in front of you, frustrated.

Sebastian was your best friend. Any romantic feelings you harbored for him could complicate that, make things awkward. You valued his friendship too much to jeopardize it.

He’d always been a bit of a flirt during fifth year, but you initially assumed he was like that with everyone. So what if you had played into it? It didn’t have to mean anything. But then you became closer friends, spent much more time together, and your body began to react a little differently to his witty banter and conspiratorial smiles.

And then everything went downhill in Feldcroft. He closed himself off almost completely, which was fine, you understood. But a part of you longed to be near to him. Then, you had lost Professor Fig, and it was your turn to disappear into yourself.

Before you knew it, the school term had ended and you’d barely spoken to one another.

Thankfully, that all changed this summer in Hogsmeade. It felt like fate, that you’d found your way back to each other. That small part of you, the part that longed for more, began to grow. Began to hope he felt the same way.

And maybe he did. Maybe he felt just as hopelessly lovesick as you secretly do and you were a fool not to tell him how you felt. Maybe everything would work out perfectly.

But there was too much going on now. Too much at stake.

So you would keep your feelings close, secret, stored safely in that spot of your heart you reserved just for him.

The sound of footsteps on the dirt path pulled you from your thoughts. As if they had summoned him, Sebastian strolled up to you, hands in the pockets of his light coat to protect them from the autumn breeze sweeping through the trees.

It was late afternoon, the sun getting lower in the sky with every minute. You’d hope this wouldn’t take too terribly long, since it was getting colder at night, and it was much riskier to hang around the Forest once it was dark.

“I thought you might’ve gotten lost,” you called out as he approached.

“Blame Imelda, she’s the one who decided to run a longer practice after seeing Gryffindor’s performance yesterday,” Sebastian replied.

“Feathers ruffled by their win?”

“Slightly mussed, but she’d never admit it.”

You laughed, nodding in agreement. Thankfully, there seemed to be no lingering tension after what had passed between you yesterday. As if it never happened.

The two of you walked side-by-side past the Forest’s entrance, falling easily into step with one another.

“If I’m remembering correctly, the rock formation is a bit deeper in the Forest, on the other side of the lake,” you said as you walked.

“Alright,” Sebastian answered, “what do you suppose awaits us there?”

“Answers, hopefully,” you shrugged. “Maybe some galleons, that’d be a nice bonus.”

“Definitely—this heroism stuff is hard work.”

You walked most of the way in comfortable silence, with little interruption from the Forest’s magical creatures. You reached the other end of the lake just as the sun began to set, and, mercifully, your memory had served you right.

The circular rock formation was mostly overgrown, the old rocks cracked and faded. A few lacewing flies had begun to dance around the foliage.

“I’m impressed you remembered this place,” Sebastian commented as he walked around the edge of the small rocks. “It’s not very much to look at.”

“My field guide was rather thorough,” you said, “I became quite familiar with the area....”

Your eyes were drawn to the foliage in the middle of the formation, where it seemed to grow the thickest.

“…and learned a few of its tricks,” you concluded.

You pulled out your wand, casting Confringo at the weeds and branches. They burned away to reveal a smooth slab of stone, a small Deathly Hallows insignia carved into it. Just as you’d seen in the memory.

“Brilliant!” Sebastian grinned at you. “Glad to see my teachings paid off.”

“Luckily, our eyebrows are still intact.”

Using Wingardium Leviosa, you moved the stone slab to reveal a set of stairs going deep into the ground. The lower stairs eventually disappeared into darkness.

“Draw straws for who goes in first?” Sebastian suggested sarcastically. You rolled your eyes before casting Lumos and beginning the descent.

The stairs leveled out into an entryway, its walls made of rough rock and stones, and eventually opened up into a small, circular room. There were two stone doors, side by side, directly across from the entrance.

There was a worn plaque above each; the names Arcus and Luvius followed by their family name, birth date, and death date etched onto them.

Their birthdays were the same, as well as their death days.

“They were brothers…twins,” you said as you read the plaques. Sebastian was observing the rest of the space, using his wand to light a few of the torches lining the room’s walls.

“These doors must lead to their tombs,” you went on. You pushed lightly on both doors, but neither moved.

You took a few steps backward, and, reading your movements, Sebastian came to stand next to you. Simultaneously, you both cast Depulso at either door. Sebastian’s spell struck true and his door flung open.

Livius’ tomb.

Arcus’ remained shut tightly. Sebastian turned to you with a smug look on his face.

You gave him a light-hearted shove and walked through the opened door. In the dim lighting, you failed to notice a dip in the ground and stumbled. Before you could fall, Sebastian grabbed onto your arm, keeping you upright.

“Careful, now,” he drawled. “It won’t be much fun for me if I have to carry you all the way back to the castle after you sprain an ankle.”

“Why not? You could think of it as endurance training. Imelda would probably thank me.”

You continued on, wands lighting the dark path ahead, taking extra caution with the rest of your steps. After some time, it opened into another, significantly larger space.

The other end of the room featured steps leading up to a dais, a stone coffin placed on top.

“Livius,” Sebastian said breathlessly. “Do you think…?”

“…that the wand is in there?” You finished his thought. “I doubt it. The Legilimens’ memory led us to this tomb, which most likely means he was here. He would’ve taken it.”

“Perhaps he didn’t make it this far.”

You took another cautious step forward, drawing closer to the dais. Before you made it halfway across the room, you heard the ground around you began to split open.

You quickly lit one of the torches on the wall, bathing the room in flickering firelight.

Inferi were crawling out of the ground from multiple cracks dotting the floor. Your stomach sank.

They were worse than spiders. Much, much worse.

⋆｡°✩

Sebastian ignored the arising panic as he took in the Inferi digging themselves up from the ground. Ignored the way his palms began to sweat, his grip tightening around his wand.

He’d had terrible nightmares about the creatures for weeks after what happened in the catacomb, his guilt threatening to eat him alive. He confessed his newfound animosity toward the Inferi to you this summer, how they had still occasionally tormented him in his sleep.

Inferi…the relic…the catacomb…Uncle Solomon…

“Incendio!” Sebastian heard you shout as you took a protective step in front of him. A ring of fire blazed around the two of you, burning the creatures into a shrieking fit.

Sebastian watched, frozen, as you easily defeated the three Inferi, then rushed forward to the other two sprouting from the ground.

Do something, idiot…don’t be so useless…!

A third Inferius appeared out of the darkness, arms raised, prepared to strike you from behind.

Sebastian’s wand moved without a second thought.

“Confringo!” he shouted, and the Inferius exploded into flames. Another basic cast and it turned to dust.

A few more dug themselves up, and the two of you worked in natural tandem to dispose of them. Within minutes, the last of the Inferi were defeated, and the tomb was filled with the awful smell of burnt flesh.

“Are you alright, Sebastian?” You rushed over to him, eyes filled with concern.

Your cheeks were flushed and you had a bead of sweat rolling down your face from the heat of the flames. Your hair and clothes were slightly disheveled.

He thought you looked beautiful.

After a few heartbeats, Sebastian nodded. “Nasty things, those Inferi.”

You eyed him a moment more, analyzing. Merlin, it was like you could see right through his skin, to every emotion he hid beneath it.

But then you nodded, moving past him and up the dais. Sebastian followed closely behind, observing the smooth white stone of the stairs and coffin. They completely contrasted the rest of the aged rock and rubble in the tomb.

You circled the coffin to the opposite side, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Sebastian came to a stop at the front of it after noticing something protruding from a crack in the lid.

He pushed the stone lid slightly ajar, causing you to yelp in alarm. A piece of parchment fluttered to the ground from where it was previously caught between the stone slabs.

“Perhaps a warning next time you decide to suddenly open a dead body’s coffin,” you chastised, hand on your chest.

“Well, despite his namesake, Livius is far from living,” Sebastian said wryly, cringing at the pile of bones inside.

“Don’t mock the deceased in his own tomb, Sebastian, it’s disrespectful,” you replied. But there was a hint of amusement in your tone, and when he looked up at you, you were failing to hold back a smile.

He bent to collect the worn bit of parchment, before reading it aloud to you.

“I now have it on good authority that it was buried with one of the twins. I was told one grew mad with jealousy after his brother claimed defeat of Loxias and killed him to become the wand’s new master. However, stricken with guilt and grief over what he’d done, he took his own life shortly after. No one ever knew who killed who.

The tomb is located in the Dark Forest, deep underground. A Hallows symbol will signify its entrance. I am confident that, this time, my search will prove to be fruitful. Once all three of the Hallows are in my possession, I shall be the most powerful wizard alive.

The Master of Death.

M.G.”

[bumblebeehug]

Here's a prompt:

Lucy falling asleep somewhere (desk? Couch? the floor?) and Natsu carrying her to bed

The days inbetween

Ao3

***

Lucy’s days were never alike. She didn’t have a set scheme for when she ate breakfast, when she went to work, when she came back home or when she fell asleep. Her work as a mage meant unreliable hours, and with her team it could also mean quite unreliable pay. Often she could be away for a few days, sometimes weeks, and at the end all their reward money would go to repair any damages caused by them. Well, caused by Natsu, Gray, Erza and even Wendy, more often than Lucy.

This way of living wasn’t very sustainable. Everyone in the guild knew how futile Team Natsu’s missions turned out, and though Lucy would love to tell herself that money didn’t matter, her friends and her team mattered more. She couldn’t argue with facts – she had to pay the rent and have money for groceries. So, when weeks went by without any jobs – be it because people needed time to heal, or someone going on another job with other people, Lucy had the opportunity to earn some pocket money through journalism. She quit the job for good after working there for a year, but thankfully they told her that she always was welcome to work extra there. 

Mostly that entailed editing other journalists' pieces, keeping the office neat or buying coffee as a temporary assistant. It gave her a moderate sum of money and didn’t require her to be around for an extended amount of time – it was flexible work. Other times, however, she knew she had a week or two off, and those times she could do proper journalistic work. Since she was one of the few mages that worked journalistically in Magnolia, she could take on stories that required the reporter to go into more dangerous situations. 

So, that was exactly what she had been doing for the last six days. She had been allowed to write a story covering mage-less crime in the centre of Magnolia, and had gathered all the information she currently required. Since she wasn’t working with the others in the office, she could manage her hours however she wanted, which meant that she, at 11:30pm on a Sunday night, was sprawled across her living room floor, papers and notes from interviews and police reports surrounding her, trying to make an informed yet catchy summary of her conclusion. She wanted to finish this before the editorial office opened tomorrow, at 6am. If she only knew how to elegantly wrap this story up. She already had three titles, a dozen photos for the editors to choose from, and she had just the right number of characters so that there’d be space for photos, undertitles, fact boxes and more.

All this work had her absolutely exhausted. She usually didn’t drink coffee due to her dislike of the taste, but despite this, she had already had six cups of coffee in total, just in the last twelve hours. The initial caffeine kick had helped her speed through this project, but now she was feeling the consequences – a major caffeine dip. Her movements felt sluggish, her eyesight was getting worse by the minute, and she didn’t manage to form a single thought. It wasn’t even that late, compared to when she usually finished her articles, but she truly messed up by drinking all that coffee.

Lucy reluctantly lied down on her side. She told herself she just made herself comfortable to read through her article from the beginning, but she knew she was lying to herself. If she didn’t sleep now there was no way she’d be able to make it to the office tomorrow morning - she probably wouldn’t even be able to wake up until 11am. So, she decided not to beat herself up over allowing her heavy eyelids to close for a while. And she didn’t feel bad for crinkling some of her workpapers as she made herself comfortable on the rug. She didn’t even worry about saving energy by turning off the lights in the kitchen – just this once she let herself indulge in not doing things properly.

***

When Natsu opened the front door he was surprised to see the lights on. It certainly made it easier for him to navigate around the shoes in the hallway, but he couldn’t help but feel curious. Was Lucy still awake? She couldn’t be, she told her just yesterday she had to go to her extra job early Monday morning – it wouldn’t make sense for her to be awake at 2am.

He slowly made his way around the apartment, trying to piece together what was going on. As soon as he turned the corner he got his answer. Two metres away, Lucy lay curled up on the rug just by the couch. She had made quite a mess, papers and notepads acting as tripping hazards through the entire room. He practically had to go through an obstacle course just to reach her.

Lucy looked peaceful where she slept, and hadn’t he known better he’d think she was comfortable on the rug. Her eyes moved around quite a bit under her eyelids, so he suspected she was dreaming about something. Hopefully only good dreams. Though, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was having a nightmare – after all, they had been through a lot in their lives, and some things weren’t easily forgotten. Natsu knew that from experience.

He quickly decided that she couldn’t keep sleeping there. She would definitely be mad at herself for not going to sleep properly if she woke up with pains, plus, Natsu had come here to sleep in bed with her, not to imitate the way they slept when they were out camping on missions. They could do that any other time, but there was no way that he would pass on the opportunity to spend the night in her bed. He never slept quite as good anywhere else – it had to be Lucy’s bed, with her in it.

Carefully he took her in his arms, making sure not to shake her around too much, in case she woke up. Luckily she only stirred a little, grabbing Natsu’s neck and drawing him close into a hug. Natsu swiftly put his arm under her legs and stood up, proud to have successfully picked her up, even getting rewarded with a hug. Lucy had managed to nuzzle her face into the crook between Natsu’s neck and shoulder, and Natsu felt his entire soul yearn for a cuddle in bed, so he could reciprocate.

Making sure to be light on his feet, he managed to snuck into the bedroom without stepping on her important papers. He almost slipped on a pencil, but quickly regained his balance. As soon as he got away from the mess he hurried to the bed, moving the comforter and placing down Lucy in one movement. Then he undressed, knowing that Lucy hated it when he touched her bed in his outside clothes, and joined her.

Natsu’s heart was full as he laid beside her. He took her in his arms, wrapped them around her waist and took a deep breath, full of the scent of Lucy and the shampoo she loves. She truly fit in his arms perfectly, lying flesh against his body as he spooned her. Natsu couldn’t remember if they always had been able to cuddle this comfortably, or if there had been a time where his arms would fall asleep or she’d toss around to find a comfortable spot. He wouldn’t be surprised however if they actually were made for each other.

Any other day, Lucy would have woken up and given him a lecture on how friends weren’t allowed to use emergency keys for anything other than an actual emergency. She’d tell him off, try to make him sleep on the couch “where friends belonged” and nag him for not taking a shower before bed. Today, however, Natsu thanked the heavens for her part time job. It may be the reason Lucy’s unavailable a lot of the time, despite them being on breaks from missions, but it was also the reason she didn’t wake up today, earning him some extra cuddle time, filled with the softness and warmth of her body.

Before he fell asleep himself, he managed to kiss Lucy just below her ear, almost on her jaw. Once in a while he allowed himself to indulge in the love he felt for her, or else he knew he would go crazy. One more soft peck, and then he joined her in the world of dreams.

Lucy’s days were never alike. She didn’t have a set scheme for when she ate breakfast, when she went to work, when she came back home or when she fell asleep. Her work as a mage meant unreliable hours, and with her team it could also mean quite unreliable pay. Often she could be away for a few days, sometimes weeks, and at the end all their reward money would go to repair any damages caused by them. Well, caused by Natsu, Gray, Erza and even Wendy, more often than Lucy.

This way of living wasn’t very sustainable. Everyone in the guild knew how futile Team Natsu’s missions turned out, and though Lucy would love to tell herself that money didn’t matter, her friends and her team mattered more. She couldn’t argue with facts – she had to pay the rent and have money for groceries. So, when weeks went by without any jobs – be it because people needed time to heal, or someone going on another job with other people, Lucy had the opportunity to earn some pocket money through journalism. She quit the job for good after working there for a year, but thankfully they told her that she always was welcome to work extra there. 

Mostly that entailed editing other journalists' pieces, keeping the office neat or buying coffee as a temporary assistant. It gave her a moderate sum of money and didn’t require her to be around for an extended amount of time – it was flexible work. Other times, however, she knew she had a week or two off, and those times she could do proper journalistic work. Since she was one of the few mages that worked journalistically in Magnolia, she could take on stories that required the reporter to go into more dangerous situations. 

So, that was exactly what she had been doing for the last six days. She had been allowed to write a story covering mage-less crime in the centre of magnolia, and had gathered all the information she currently required. Since she wasn’t working with the others in the office, she could manage her hours however she wanted, which meant that she, at 11:30pm on a Sunday night, was sprawled across her living room floor, papers and notes from interviews and police reports surrounding her, trying to make an informed yet catchy summary of her conclusion. She wanted to finish this before the editorial office opened tomorrow, at 6am. If she only knew how to elegantly wrap this story up. She already had three titles, a dozen photos for the editors to choose from, and she had just the right number of characters so that there’d be space for photos, undertitles, fact boxes and more.

All this work had her absolutely exhausted. She usually didn’t drink coffee due to her dislike of the taste, but despite this, she had already had six cups of coffee in total, just in the last twelve hours. The initial caffeine kick had helped her speed through this project, but now she was feeling the consequences – a major caffeine dip. Her movements felt sluggish, her eyesight was getting worse by the minute, and she didn’t manage to form a single thought. It wasn’t even that late, compared to when she usually finished her articles, but she truly messed up by drinking all that coffee.

Lucy reluctantly lied down on her side. She told herself she just made herself comfortable to read through her article from the beginning, but she knew she was lying to herself. If she didn’t sleep now there was no way she’d be able to make it to the office tomorrow morning - she probably wouldn’t even be able to wake up until 11am. So, she decided not to beat herself up over allowing her heavy eyelids to close for a while. And she didn’t feel bad for crinkling some of her workpapers as she made herself comfortable on the rug. She didn’t even worry about saving energy by turning off the lights in the kitchen – just this once she let herself indulge in not doing things properly.

***

When Natsu opened the front door he was surprised to see the lights on. It certainly made it easier for him to navigate around the shoes in the hallway, but he couldn’t help but feel curious. Was Lucy still awake? She couldn’t be, she told her just yesterday she had to go to her extra job early Monday morning – it wouldn’t make sense for her to be awake at 2am.

He slowly made his way around the apartment, trying to piece together what was going on. As soon as he turned the corner he got his answer. Two metres away, Lucy lay curled up on the rug just by the couch. She had made quite a mess, papers and notepads acting as tripping hazards through the entire room. He practically had to go through an obstacle course just to reach her.

Lucy looked peaceful where she slept, and hadn’t he known better he’d think she was comfortable on the rug. Her eyes moved around quite a bit under her eyelids, so he suspected she was dreaming about something. Hopefully only good dreams. Though, he wouldn’t be surprised if she was having a nightmare – after all, they had been through a lot in their lives, and some things weren’t easily forgotten. Natsu knew that from experience.

He quickly decided that she couldn’t keep sleeping there. She would definitely be mad at herself for not going to sleep properly if she woke up with pains, plus, Natsu had come here to sleep in bed with her, not to imitate the way they slept when they were out camping on missions. They could do that any other time, but there was no way that he would pass on the opportunity to spend the night in her bed. He never slept quite as good anywhere else – it had to be Lucy’s bed, with her in it.

Carefully he took her in his arms, making sure not to shake her around too much, in case she woke up. Luckily she only stirred a little, grabbing Natsu’s neck and drawing him close into a hug. Natsu swiftly put his arm under her legs and stood up, proud to have successfully picked her up, even getting rewarded with a hug. Lucy had managed to nuzzle her face into the crook between Natsu’s neck and shoulder, and Natsu felt his entire soul yearn for a cuddle in bed, so he could reciprocate.

Making sure to be light on his feet, he managed to snuck into the bedroom without stepping on her important papers. He almost slipped on a pencil, but quickly regained his balance. As soon as he got away from the mess he hurried to the bed, moving the comforter and placing down Lucy in one movement. Then he undressed, knowing that Lucy hated it when he touched her bed in his outside clothes, and joined her.

Natsu’s heart was full as he laid beside her. He took her in his arms, wrapped them around her waist and took a deep breath, full of the scent of Lucy and the shampoo she loves. She truly fit in his arms perfectly, lying flush against his body as he spooned her. Natsu couldn’t remember if they always had been able to cuddle this comfortably, or if there had been a time where his arms would fall asleep or she’d toss around to find a comfortable spot. He wouldn’t be surprised however if they actually were made for each other.

Any other day, Lucy would have woken up and given him a lecture on how friends weren’t allowed to use emergency keys for anything other than an actual emergency. She’d tell him off, try to make him sleep on the couch “where friends belonged” and nag him for not taking a shower before bed. Today, however, Natsu thanked the heavens for her part time job. It may be the reason Lucy’s unavailable a lot of the time, despite them being on breaks from missions, but it was also the reason she didn’t wake up today, earning him some extra cuddle time, filled with the softness and warmth of her body.

Before he fell asleep himself, he managed to kiss Lucy just below her ear, almost on her jaw. Once in a while he allowed himself to indulge in the love he felt for her, or else he knew he would go crazy. One more soft peck, and then he joined her in the world of dreams.

[ghostflowerdreams]

It's absolutely essential to have an emergency kit, or to build one tailored to your needs. Don’t put it off or assume you’ll be fine without it. Being prepared can make a real difference when things go wrong.

In recent years, we’ve faced all kinds of unexpected events: earthquakes, floods, the pandemic, severe snowstorms, and most recently, a massive power outage across parts of Europe. These situations have shown just how unprepared many people are.

Think about how much worse that blackout could have been if it happened in the middle of winter, during a heatwave, or if it had lasted for days instead of just hours. The consequences could have been far more serious.

Please take the time to prepare now, even if it’s just a few small steps. That way, you won’t be caught off guard when something bad happens and your future self will be glad you did.

Heavy-duty, durable backpack

LED flashlight (with extra batteries)

Battery-powered or hand crank AM/FM radio (NOAA Weather Radio, if possible)

Portable backup battery or power bank for mobile devices (with phone charger)

Candles, matches, lighter or a fire starter in a waterproof container

First-aid kit

Mess kits, paper cups, plates, paper towels and plastic utensils

Moist towelettes, garbage bags, and plastic ties (for sanitation)

Feminine supplies and personal hygiene items

Non-perishable food (such as canned goods or packaged items)

Manual can-opener (optional)

Water (bottled and/or water purification tablets—for drinking and washing)

Prescription medications and glasses

Non-prescription medications (pain relievers, anti-diarrhea medication, antacids, laxatives)

Cash (Do not rely on credit cards or debit cards)

Important documents: Copies of insurance policies, medical info, bank records, birth certificate and proof of address. Store them electronically or in a waterproof container.

Sleeping bag or emergency blanket

Multi-purpose tool

Whistle (to signal for help)

Hand Warmers

Dust-protection face mask

Duct tape

Map(s) of the area

Books, cards, puzzles, or other non-electric games to pass the time

Pet food and extra water for your pet

Infant formula, bottles, diapers, wipes and diaper rash cream

Not every item on this list may apply to your situation, so choose what makes sense for you. Remember, it's better to have something and not need it than to need it and not have it. Make sure to also keep your kit up to date and replace any expired items as needed.

For more information, visit official government websites for reliable emergency preparedness resources and trusted news outlets for the latest alerts and expert advice such as...

The American National Red Cross - What Do You Need In A Survival Kit?

The National Weather Service (NWS) - Building an Emergency Winter Supply Kit for Your Car

Ready.gov - Build A Kit

FEMA (Federal Emergency Management Agency) - 10 Items to Include in Your Emergency Kit

Virginia Department of Emergency Management (VDEM) – Emergency Kit

CDC (Centers for Disease Control and Prevention) - Prepare un kit de emergencia

Government of the Netherlands - What does the emergency kit contain?

Ministerio de Asuntos Exteriores, Unión Europea y Cooperación (MAEUEC) - Guía de emergencia (PDF)

euronews - Esto debe incluir el kit de emergencia que propone la UE ante peligros como un gran apagón

euronews - Francia enviará a sus ciudadanos una guía para sobrevivir a guerras, pandemias y otras crisis

National Geographic (España) - El kit de emergencia que la UE recomienda tener en todos los hogares

El Pais - Agua, comida y medicinas: qué incluir en un kit de emergencia como el que recomienda la UE

infobae - Apagones, desastres naturales o guerras: cómo es el kit de supervivencia que recomienda la Unión Europea para catástrofes

Publico - Água, comida, lanterna, cobertor, canivete… O que deve ter um kit de emergência?

Santander - E se o inesperado acontecer? Saiba o que deve ter no kit de emergência da União Europeia

ECO News - O que devemos ter num kit de emergência?

Ministère de la Transition écologique - Préparer son kit d’urgence 72h

Service d’Information du Gouvernement (SIG) - Se préparer à une situation d’urgence

Croix-Rouge Française - Catakit : Préparer son sac d’urgence

[drstonetrivia]

Chapter 207 Trivia

The Nanami family has about as much backstory as the Ishigami family does at this point… What does this all mean… 🤔

Two half adders make a full adder, which can carry values to the next adder and so on. Eight adders would allows sums up to 8 bits in length, the maximum of which is 11111111, which is equal to 255 in binary.

Xeno's got his gamer chair back, complete with the headset! I bet he's pleased.

Rather than writing E=MC^2 or choosing another scientific option, he chooses… Poop.

This is rather hypocritical of him, as he is now around 5 years older than when he was when he called Taiju immature for doing a similar thing.

The printing paper they make is called thermal paper, as it contains dyes that change color with heat. The paper uses the zinc sulfide from sphalerite as a developer, which is used to improve the color of the dyes.

The fax machine Senku makes is a rudimentary implementation of a rather advanced fax machine, in that the paper and overall design is modern, but lacks the fine details in the final prints that you can get nowadays.

There's several potential issues Senku could be mentioning here depending on how they built the fax machine, but here are 2 likely options:

Mechanical alignment of the two fax machines.

If the sliding of the pin is uneven, you could end up with some lines that are squashed or stretched. It may help to imagine this as pixels on a screen, but some have rows of pixels that are rectangular rather than square.

Data loss.

If the information for a dot is lost, the pin won't move. Instead, it'll print the information for the next dot in its place. This results in the whole image shifting left.

I'm still very impressed by Sai's active ambidexterity, though I'm not sure how he organizes how he writes since he's writing on even lines rather than one being on the odds and the other evens…

Still no update on Joel's arm since the bottom half is hidden, but everyone looks so happy to be in the picture! I wonder if Minami was the one to take it since she's not shown.

The faxed image isn't what it would look like with their setup, since it can only print a black dot or leave it white. In their image, there seems to be several shades of grey.

I altered it so that the dots were more uniformly dark which also brings out the misalignment.

Ryusui goes silent upon seeing the photo, but from the flashback he seems to care more about how Sai feels rather than feeling left out.

What's sad is that Ryusui was missing from the group photo in chp. 99 as well, hopefully not because he feels bad being in one without Sai.

Gen planned on only needing two cups for his casual interrogation of Sai, but then Chelsea happened, so Gen had to go get a third.

Ryusui and Sai are both quite tall, and Ryusui himself is 187 cm. If we take that as the average height of an adult male in the Nanami family, that means that this man here is over 3 meters tall.

Sai & Ryusui weren't born to the matriarch of the Nanami family, meaning they must share a father for them to be brothers. Since Sai looks half Indian and Ryusui doesn't, this likely means they have two different mothers, and that their father has had kids with at least 3 women.

At long last, Sai has formally joined the Kingdom of Science, and team 1 is ready to leave India.

…Or are they? We still haven't seen the "Math city founded!" label, so they may still be traveling around India.

This was a really good chapter. It feels like a classic: we have science, both fun and emotional character interactions, Gen doing important Gen things, poop jokes…

[preciouslandmermaid]

quiet fury in your head [vii]

Dream of the Endless x F!Reader!Goddess / Sandman Fanfiction

Note: I wasn’t sure how Dream’s manifestation into the waking world worked like—is he always visible? Or does he pick and choose? So for the sake of a certain scene, I made it so both Dream and Reader are invisible to mortals. Anyway, You and Dream go into the mortal world.

No use of Y/N. See part 1 for all the tags tbh.

Warnings: This chapter has mentions of child abuse. There is nothing explicit described, but it is mentioned.

Rating: 18+

(Read on AO3)    ||   (masterpost for other chapters)  

You follow Dream across the pier. His request for your help in the mortal—the waking world—is odd. He’s never asked this of you before. But, you are bound to the Dream Lords will. Your skin prickles. Your heart feels tight. The longing you feel when he is distant has doubled—no, tripled—as you admire the straight and narrow line of his shoulders. He is often stiff. Sometimes you wonder if you dreamed your first kiss, if you imagined the way his soft lips moved over yours like shifting sand and how his pale, large hands cupped and clung to you.

He stops and extends that same, large hand to you. His fingers long and slender and elegant. A Dream-Weaver’s hand. You step forward and take it. The mounds of his palm fit perfectly within your own. His long fingers interlace yours. He steps off the pier with you in tow and the spinning that occurs is less dizzying than the pleasure of Dream’s touch. Do not let me go, you think as the whirls of color expand and spin, because I will give myself to this vortex and be done with it. The ache to be closer to him is an acute, masochistic agony. If I took other lovers, then I would not feel this way toward the Dream Lord, but—I don’t want anyone else. I want only him. But I doubt he will ever take me as a queen—as an equal—and I will accept nothing less.

The world manifests around you. The air is warm and balmy. Dream is slow to release your hand. He settles his Helm onto his head, hiding his unkempt dark hair and fathomless eyes from you. Your palm and fingers tingle from the lack and you miss the comforting pressure, the warmth of him. Yet pride stops you from reaching for him.

Remember your place here. You are his servant, he is your keeper, and no matter what desire burns inside you—the Dream Lord is to be your ruin. Remember who you are. Remember your sisters.

“This way,” Dream’s voice is strange from within his helm. It’s like flint scraping against stone. He leads you through the warm, crowded streets. A group of men pass you wearing uniforms and smoking rolled cigarettes.

You feel the war and conflict thrumming through the threads of the world. A long conflict, no less. Saliva pools inside your mouth when you inhale deeply. The knowledge drops into your mind like a stone (for even a Goddess without worship is given information). Your presence in the waking world has opened your mind to all the history and knowledge you’ve missed since being sequestered in the Dreaming. You understand all the language, the history, technology and culture in seconds.

You go within yourself. You peer through the layers of history, the shifting timelines, the strings of Fate. You see thousands of battles—old and new—flick through like the fast-flipped pages of a book. This war will last another ten years.

You sigh longingly. If only this war could be fought in your name. You would return to power. This is who you are. A Goddess of War. Desire said you were forgotten. But that didn’t mean your essence didn’t sing at the sight of battle. The large galley ships within the ports, the men in uniforms carrying guns, the cannons, the crates of supplies and gunpowder.

“We will wait here.” Dream stands off to the side of the busy street and you use this moment to scan the area. You peer over the shoulder of a boy selling papers. The year is 1805. Meaningless numbers to a God. But, you heart aches for your sisters and fellow Gods that have been lost for eons now. They pray to something else now…

“Are you going to tell me what we’re doing here?” You ask. You lean your spine against the stone building behind you and fold your arms. The salty, bay air from the port floats between your legs and over your exposed arms.

“We’re waiting for someone…” Dream replies. You roll your eyes.

“Can I wait somewhere else?”

The ruby on Dream’s necklace glints in the hot sun when he turns toward you. The large, almost insect-inspired glass of his helm reflects your personage. You cannot see his eyes, but you feel them graze over your face, neck, and chest like the sharp ends of a thorn.

His voice rasps against your flushed skin, “I need you beside me.”

“To what end?” You challenge pushing from the wall and invading the Dream Lord’s personal space. You wish you could tear the helm from his head and stare him down properly. Morpheus does not flinch or step back at your approach. He stands, hands clasped behind his back, ruby and helm shining in the sun. Your impassive, imposing, and infuriating Dream Lord.

“I need you to incite a frenzy to draw out a nightmare that has escaped.”

Your face crumples, anger turning to disappointment, to shame. “I can’t.” The words taste like acid. “They leave no offerings to me, Morpheus. They do not sing. They do not memorize our stories. The powers I once had have weakened over time”

You swallow around the lump in your throat, “they have...nearly disappeared, in truth.”

Within the Dreaming, you can shape-shift, but you suspect the reason that power remained was because Badb gave it to you. It wasn’t connected to Desire’s gift. It wasn’t connected to the Mortals who once feared you. It wasn’t connected to your Dream-Weaving abilities that are trapped inside a ring that Morpheus wears on his pinkie finger. Dream’s silence stretches and chaffs like rough sand.

Maybe he will release me...now that I have no use to him.

He says slowly, “If I offer something to you,” He tilts his head, studying you through the dark lens of his helm, “will that be sufficient?”

You purse your lips. “You would need to do it properly.”

“Very well. What is it you would ask? If it is within my power, then I will give it.”

For a moment, your thoughts quiet and your heartbeat slows. You and Dream stand in a port city in Spain, heat and saltwater, the call of gulls and the rich, melodic Spanish language dancing through your eardrums. Something inside of you tightens like a winding spring. You think of your earlier desire—to remove his helm—to touch him. Desire once said to you: “Do as you desire, always. Forget honor, or cowardice, or shame. Become the envy of all other Gods.” You aren’t their champion anymore, but the truth they spoke lives inside your core.

You are Nemain of The Morrigan, the Goddess of war, and rage, fear, and destruction. You have lived powerless for too long. A shade of a woman. A wraith. A ghost. Not even powerful enough to call yourself a Banshee. Now, Dream is offering you a gift. Anything you desire so you can help him find his missing nightmare.

Yet, there is only one thing you desire right now—in this moment—beneath the hot Mediterranean sun.

“I would ask for a kiss, Dream.”

He lifts the helm from his head, his hair stuck in every direction like the ruffled feathers of a raven.

“That’s all?” He sounds dubious.

“Yes.”

You wait for him to reject you and ask for something else. Without the helm, you stare into his ageless face, the sharp planes of his cheekbones, the universal depth of his eyes, and the soft pout of his lips. His stony expression reveals nothing. His thoughts and feelings remain a mystery to you. How infuriating...

Dream closes the small distance between your bodies. You inhale sharply. The dark, woolly fabric of his long coat brushes against your chest. His hand settles at the back of your warm neck. You crane upward to meet him. His face blocks the sun and the light is absorbed within the strands of his dark hair and forms a muted, yellow halo behind him. Your fingers clasp around the lapels of his coat for the sake of something to cling to.

“The incantation.” You remind him. Your words are a breathy whisper against his lips.

“I offer this to The Morrigan, Goddess of War and Rage, to the aspect known as Nemain of the three sisters. She who incites fear on the battlefield, whose scream foretells death, whose presence inspires courage to those who worship her.” His voice is husky, intimate, quiet for only you to hear—even though the mortals walking pass cannot see or hear you.

His long, pretty eyelashes slip closed as he inclines his head towards yours and your lips finally, blessedly meet. The lively sounds of the port become white noise in your ears. Dream’s kiss is intoxicating. You feel the burbling rush of power as it fills you like sweet rich chocolate. It feels like floating. The raw power is injected into your veins. Your heart pounds, your fingers tighten around his coat, and your mouth opens willingly to the gentle, probing touch of his tongue. You sigh into his mouth, winding your arms around the graceful curve of his bowed neck, and pressing your body flush and tight against his.Too long, too long...You lament. It has been too long since someone—a being of great power—gave anything to me.

Dream coaxes his tongue along yours in languid, teasing motions. What began as a simple offering, a mere singular kiss, has turned heady and intense. Your spine meets the sun-touched, warm stone of the building behind you. You drag your leg up, pressing your inner thigh against Dream’s hip, allowing yourself the pleasure and delight of feeling his body snug against yours. He holds your jaw, tender, your jugular exposed, and swallows the breathy, quiet moans that escape from the back of your throat. His obvious desire for you cannot be understated or imagined. He does want you.

But he will never take me as an equal. The thought is sobering and you drag your mouth away from his. Dream doesn’t move, nor does he break eye contact with you, and your bodies are pressed together as if bonded by melted wax.

His dark eyes roam your face, seeking answers to a question he hasn’t asked.

He releases his hold on your jaw and takes a pointed and deliberate step away. He returns his helm and indirectly (or perhaps directly you think) hides his face and expression from you.

“There,” He inclines his head toward of group of soldiers, “the nightmare had been following them.”

You square your shoulders. It’s time to get to work then.

The art of inciting fear is subtle like plucking the strings on a harp. You strum gently, your fingers are light, your brow is folded in concentration. Dream asked for frenzy. But there is more build up to it than one might. It’s akin to building a tower of cards. It requires a delicate hand as you follow the group of soldiers. Your concentration doesn’t waver…

Until you hear a familiar, bright voice.

“Stinky!” The child chastises and tugs on the leash of her white dog with crusty-gunk inside its eyes. You turn and face the child—I know you from the Dreaming, you think, and the little girl looks up toward you. She cannot see you. You know this. Yet, you stare into her innocent brown eyes and fear overtakes you. The memories and emotions are brief and fast like hard slaps across your face: Anger. A man’s voice screaming. His brown eyes brimming with rage. Shame. A broken vase with the porcelain pieces scattered across the floor like bone shards. Confusion. A dark place. Hunger. A dog’s paw scratching at the door. Fear.

Morpheus lightly touches your shoulder and draws you from the vortex of the girl’s memories.

“The child…” You wrestle the words from your throat, “her father harms her.”

“There is nothing we can do for her.” Dream says.

You look up at the Dream Lord, your expression and voice serious, and a simmering anger builds beneath your words. “You could send a nightmare to him. Scare him.”

“He would not change his ways.” Dream replies. “My nightmares are a reflection of the human condition. I give sleep, I give dreams and nightmares, and nothing more. I cannot interfere with the child’s fate.”

“Even if she called to you?” You ask hotly. “Left offerings and cried out for your aid?”

“I am not a God.”

You narrow your eyes and turn away from Dream. The little girl has scooped her grumpy-looking dog into her arms and is walking in the opposite direction of the soldiers you’re following. You clench your jaw and curl your fingers into fists at your sides.

The card tower falls.

A solider trips.

Their rifle misfires.

And the plaza erupts in a frenzy of alarm—fear that the enemy has crept up on them, fear that someone is hurt, fear that the bullet has hit them. You cannot even enjoy the sensation of terror. Your eyes linger down the street where the little girl went. You seek the knowledge within the fabric of the world and learn that the girl’s father is planning to get onto a boat soon.

If Dream won’t help her...there is no reason why I cannot.

************

“Dima,” You step through the cloudy mass of her homestead. “I have need of you.”

Dima places one hand over her heart and her blue skin crackles like lightening, “Anything.”

“I have need of a storm…”

Dima smiles widely and kneels upon one knee. “For you, I would conjure a hundred storms, my queen.”

You place your hand on her shoulder. It feels damp and tingles softly beneath your palm. Her loyalty is strong and welcome and you feel your lips twitch upward into the first smile in centuries.

*************

You use your connection to the child to find her father within the Dreaming. The Dream manifests as a galley boat similar to the ones you saw within the Spanish port, but the father is not alone. Corinthian sits on the bowsprit, his legs dangling and staring out at the dark ocean below. Did Dream send a nightmare after all? You approach Corinthian slowly.

He looks over his shoulder toward you, “There’s a sight I rarely see.”

“You tend to make yourself sparse, Corinthian.”

“Can’t help it.” The saltwater sprays against his dark glasses, “I think I make the other dreams nervous.”

“As you should.” You lean your hands on the wet wooden railing, “it is in your nature to be discomforting.”

“The nature built into me by Dream.”

“Did Dream send you?”

“No.” Corinthian scoffs. “This one…” His gaze trails to the father pacing the main deck below and wringing his hands together. “His darkness calls to me. His desire for wealth, his hunger for power and control, his pleasure in…” Corinthian trails his dark and reflective gaze back to you, “causing pain.”

The power Dream gifted you bubbles beneath your skin. I have the strength to cause madness again...You will need that power to deal with this disgusting pest of a man. You will eradicate him. You will ensure the child is safe and free.

“I would like some time alone with him.”

Corinthian tucks his legs beneath him, raising to his full height, and balances on the long bowsprit with ease. His blonde hair tousles softly in the warm, salty wind and the flaps of his coat flutter. He slides his hands into his pockets.

“You can have him for a price, Queen of Nightmares.” He drawls, “And I’m sure you can already guess my terms.” He tilts his head. You recall your first meeting with Corinthian and his desire to escape the Dreaming. Even at your current strength, you are bound by your duty to Desire. You cannot leave even if you had the power to.

You glance at the man pacing the deck and your righteous anger pushes you to action.

“I am bound until Dream frees me as decreed by Desire, my Maker.” You explain calmly, “But once I am free – I will be free from everyone. Gods. Endless. Mortals. If you allow me to be alone with this wretched creature then I will owe you a favor.”

“A favor?”

“Anything you wish.” You say solemnly. “And if it is within my power then I will give it.”

Corinthian asks, “Even if I ask you to harm your precious Dream Lord to ensure my escape?”

You bow your head in the barest of nods. “Yes, Corinthian.”

He jumps from the bow onto the ship deck near the large wooden wheel. “It does not hurt to have an Old God in my pocket.” He grins, his smile lean and sharp and perfectly white. “Very well, you can have him.”

Corinthian vanishes. You are alone alongside the dreamer and a wave of nostalgia crashes over you. A dreamer trashing inside their bed wrecked with paranoia due to your influence as you desperately tried to save your family. You slink behind the man. He smells of booze and sweat. You place your hands delicately on his shoulders and bring your lips close to his ears.

“The ship is sinking…” You whisper, your voice low and almost seductive. “You must save yourself.” You weave your fingers around the man’s unease regarding the war and fill toxic paranoia into his nostrils. “The storm is too strong. You must jump now! You must swim to shore.” You hiss. Your voice melodic and guiding. The man’s heart echoes the thundering clouds above your heads.

“Hurry!”

****************

In the mortal world, the ship known as “Indomptable” is taken by a storm conjured by Dima. Her anchor chains are broken and she drifts toward the offshore rocks. The man—the awful, coward—jumps from his bunk with the bite of his nightmares on his heels and throws himself from the ship.

The storm drags him deep, deep, deep.

His body is never recovered.

****************

You lounge on the grass of Fiddler’s Green. The meadow is comforting, quiet, and calm. Your skin glistens with sweat from your exertion of using your powers on the mortal. A few colorful butterflies float over your head and you smile to yourself.

The child is safe. They can call me the protector of children now. The thought elicits a queer feeling in your chest. Something close to pride and excitement. This could be my calling once I leave the Dreaming. I can travel the mortal world and incite fear in those who harm others. I could make them regret ever abusing their power.

Your hand reaches up and plays with the sunbeams flowing like golden ichor through the clouds. For the first time since your sister’s deaths and Lugh’s betrayal, you feel a lightness inside your heart, a softness that did not—could not—exist before.

Dream’s thunderous voice cuts through the calm silence, “Morrigan.”

You sit up and brush the loose grass from your cloak. You peer up at him with a bewildered expression. Why has he come to find me now?

“What have you done?” He looms over you. The grass in the meadow sways away from his tall, imposing form.

Ah, he knows. You raise to your feet and regard him coolly. He cannot make a God, a Queen, bend no matter how much he huffs and puffs and glares.

“You could not intervene on the girl’s behalf.” You cross your arms, “But I could.”

“That is not your place.” He glowers, “And it was not my command.”

“I have my free will within the Dreaming, Morpheus.” You snap, anger rising to the surface, “I made the father pay for his transgressions.” You cannot hide the pride from your voice. You are proud of what you’ve done and Morpheus cannot take that from you.

“Your meddling has cost lives.” His voice is ice and you suppress a shiver. “As long as you are within the Dreaming, you are my responsibility and your actions reflect on me and all of the Dreaming’s inhabitants.”

“If you are seeking an apology, Dream Lord, I will not give it.” You lift your chin. “Regret does not eat my heart.”

“It will.” Dream replies cryptically, “when you learn what your actions have cost you.”

Your brows furrow. Morpheus lifts his pale, long-fingered hand and Fiddler’s Green vanishes from beneath your feet and the static taste of Dima’s home fills your mouth. Dima emerges from her hut at your arrival and her smile drops when she sees Morpheus alongside you.

“Dream Lord, what do I owe the pleasure?”

Morpheus’ gaze is hard and unyielding.

******************

“You are hereby banished from the Dreaming, Dima Storm-Weaver.” He says coldly, “For your actions in interfering with the waking world at the request of someone who isn’t me.”

“Wait, Dream Lord, please!” Dima prostrates herself at his feet. “I’m sorry!” Her blue cheeks dampen with a sudden burst of tears. Your expression tightens into white-hot anger and you throw yourself in front of Dima. He would expect nothing less. Your loyalty is to be commended, but your actions do not move him. He must restore balance within the Dreaming. He cannot have his subjects bending their wills to your whims. Your gaze pins him.

And Dima succeeded where you could not. A small voice nags in the back of his mind. She had the power to help while you couldn’t. Dream forcefully pushes the thoughts aside. No. That is not the reason. He must keep control and balance within his own Realm. He can’t have you undermining him.

“If you wish to punish someone then punish me.” Your lips curl into a snarl. You are ever-so-ferocious.

Dream replies flatly, “Be grateful I am not extending your time in the Dreaming.”

“Grateful!?” You shout and lightening cracks through the clouds beneath your feet, “You ask for my gratitude when you would rip my only friend from me?”

“Perhaps you will make a different choice next time.” He tears his gaze away from your grief-stricken and rage-filled face.

“Dima.” He addresses the creature that embodies storms and rain. Dima is pure elemental force at her core. She looks up at him from her kneeling position and clasps her hands in front of her chest. Her chest cavity flashes rapidly like a heartbeat made of lightening.

“Your banishment begins now.”

“No!” You yell, throwing your arms around Dima’s shoulders, as if your physical touch could tie her to the Dreaming. “Punish me, Morpheus. Not her. She did nothing wrong but listen to me!”

********

Morpheus stares blankly at you. There is nothing of the man who kissed you and pressed your back against the warm, sun-soaked stone wall. You grit your teeth and dig your fingertips into Dima’s soft, blue-colored shoulders. Morpheus says nothing. The wind pulls at the coattails of his long, dark jacket and Dima fades beneath your fingers.

You fall forward on your knees onto the soft, white clouds and stare at the Dreaming world below. Your throat burns with a familiar, painful prickling sensation.

This is the cost of love...the cost of friendship...that it could be taken away. You blink back the tears and are adamant that Dream does not see you cry. You inhale through your nostrils and look up at him as static discharge dances across your skin and pulls small pieces of your hair.

Your voice is clear and sharp, like a silver blade running through someone’s rib cage, “Never speak to me again lest to release me from my wretched service to you.” Your words hang heavy in the air of Dima’s absence.

Dream inclines his head slightly and disappears in a gust of rain-dappled wind. You bow your head and scream into the clouds. The thunder muffles the noise, but the Dreaming trembles at the raw, painful sound of your grief.

[mythicalmisery]

Detective AU Pt. 1 : GhostxSoap

AO3

Soap wanted to scream. Three hours into overtime and they still hadn’t come up with anything damning. Precinct 141 was assigned The Gravedigger case only a month ago but the constant berating from the press had the higher-ups putting immense pressure on them to crack the case. The bastard just had to choose their district as his dumping grounds. Ten bodies in three months. The killer was precise, intelligent, and damn near aggravating.

For weeks, he and his partner, Ghost, had been tirelessly working past hours, pouring over evidence, following leads, and interviewing witnesses. But every piece of information seemed to lead them down a dead end. The two detectives found themselves once again alone in the dimly lit precinct late at night, surrounded by a sea of files and evidence boards. Exhaustion had etched lines on their faces. Soap’s diet had steadily consisted of just coffee and energy drinks the past few days.

Soap ran a hand through his unruly and grown-out mohawk, frustration evident in the way his fingers clenched. "We're missing something, Ghost," he muttered, his voice edged with ire. "There has to be a connection we're not seeing.”

Ghost nodded in agreement, his brown eyes fixed on the evidence board. His unreadable expression a stark contrast to Soap's visible weariness. “Aye, it's like the bastard is always one step ahead of us,” he grunted out.

Soap huffed as he took in his partner's words. He ran his hands down his face, scratching along his grown-out 5 o’clock shadow. God, he needed a shower and a shave. He just wanted to solve the case and get some fucking rest for once. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a shag or went out with friends. All his free time was spent in this god-forsaken building. 

Soap decided to go over the surveillance videos for the tenth time, trying to find something he might have missed before. His frustration quickly transformed into a false sense of determination. He caught himself glancing over at his partner every few minutes. The man's brows were furrowed in concentration as he looked over some forensic papers. He had his pen resting between his lips, slightly chewing on the cap. Soap couldn’t tear his eyes away from the other's mouth. His tongue darted out every once in a while to push the cap back into place. 

The action had heat crawling up his neck and dusting his cheeks a nice pink as he thought of that tongue wrapped ar— NO. Snap out of it Soap, he scolded himself. He felt like a bloody teenager again with his out of control hormones. God, had it really been that long since he got laid?

There was something about Ghost that had always captivated him – his intensity, his unwavering focus, the way he carried himself. The vast plains of pure muscle that made up the man may have also played a factor. Soap had kept his feelings in check, buried beneath layers of professionalism and camaraderie. But as the warring feelings of frustration and exhaustion settled in, his resolve began to crack. He desperately needed a release. 

Ghost glanced up, catching Soap's intense gaze. "You okay, Soap?”

Fuck. Soap’s heart skipped a beat, and he nodded, his voice slightly unsteady. "Yeah, just… tired.”

Ghost offered a small, understanding smile. "We'll figure this out and catch the son of a bitch, we always do… I’m gonna grab another coffee, I’d offer you some but I think you need cut off mate,” he quipped as he stood up from his desk.

“Yer probably right about that” Soap muttered back, focusing entirely on the other man's ass as it walked away from him. The way his black pants sinfully hugged his thighs should be illegal. What the hell am I doing? He shook his head and rolled his shoulders, scolding himself for looking at his partner like a piece of meat. 

“You need some bloody help mate” he mumbled to himself with a heavy sigh. 

“What was that?” Ghost questioned as he sat down in his chair with the fresh cup of coffee in hand.

Shit. 

“Nothing mate, just mumbling to myself. Guess the sleep deprivation is finally catching up to me,” he huffed out in a poor attempt to try and save his ass. 

Ghost simply nodded and took a sip of his coffee, a drop running down his pale chin. He absentmindedly took his thumb and slid it across the area to catch the drop, sliding the appendage into his mouth and sucking off the liquid. Soap's brain short-circuited. The only sign he was still alive was the blood rushing into his lower region and the twitch in his pants. Fuck it. He was gonna see how far he could push Ghost, worst-case scenario he gets knocked out. Maybe then he could catch up on some much needed sleep. 

"Hey, Ghost," Soap said, his words coming out in a rush. 

Ghost looked up, his brow furrowing slightly. “Yeah?"

Soap hesitated for a moment, his heart racing. “You seeing anybody at the moment?”

Ghost raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Now why would that interest you, Johnny?”

Soap tried his best to suppress the shiver that wracked his body at the way his name sounded in that gravelly, low voice. His lips quirked into a mischievous grin. “Just curious is all, you never mentioned having to get back to anyone all these late nights,” Soap gradually pointed out as he rounded the corner of their conjoined desks. Now standing in front of the evidence board with his arms crossed and back to his partner. 

“Yeah, I guess not. Maybe that makes you the closest thing to me seeing anyone at the moment,” he teased.

He couldn’t see the ever-returning blush now encompassing his partner's face at the joke. “Aye, if only you were to be so lucky ya bastard,” Soap managed to get out, feigning offense. 

“I truly would be lucky, wouldn’t I?” Ghost said. 

Soap turned around at that, not quite sure he heard the man correctly. “W-What?”

Ghost stood up from his seat slowly, crowding the other man as he leaned into his space. His eyes never leaving his. “That’s what you want to hear right? Why else the sudden curiosity if I was seeing anyone?” The man responded without an ounce of that teasing tone from before.

“I - I…” Soap spluttered. His mind not able to function in the moment. 

“Don’t get coy on me now detective. Tell me why it would matter if I was single or not. Go on, be a good lad,” the man rasped out. Soap hadn’t realized that during this whole interaction, he had been subconsciously inching closer to the wall. He was trapped. 

Soap cleared his throat, his voice a little husky. "Ghost, I…” his gaze flicked up to the man standing before him. Oh yeah, he was about to die.

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding against his ribcage. "I... I like you, Ghost. More than just a partner. More than just a friend." Soap's voice trembled slightly, but he held Ghost's gaze, his heart laid bare.

Ghost's response was a silence that stretched on for what felt like an eternity. Soap's heart sank, his confession hanging in the air like a fragile thread. His eyes closed, bracing for the inevitable punch he was sure to receive. 

Then, without warning, Ghost moved. In an instant, Soap found himself pressed against the wall, Ghost's lips crashing down on his own. The kiss was fierce and messy, a collision of pent-up emotions that had been building between them. Soap's heart raced as his hands found their way to Ghost's broad shoulders, fingers gripping onto the fabric of his shirt.

For the sake of oxygen, they finally pulled away. Ghost's eyes were blazing, his expression a mixture of heat and pure hunger. Soap felt like he was about to collapse, but he held Ghost's gaze, his apprehension tempered by desperate need. Did that actually just happen?

"I've been waiting for you to say that," Ghost admitted, his voice rough and slightly winded after the lack of air. He leaned his head down into Soap's neck, lips brushing the shell of his ear. “Now, what do you want me to do about that?” he whispered. 

Soap's breath hitched as his mind went blank at the statement. Only one thing pushing through the dying embers of conscious thought. 

“I want you to fuck me, Ghost.”

Pt. 2

[jinxedyaart]

A little too Similar Part 2

After assisting Winston with the preparations for the meeting, dusting herself while keeping the conversation small before saying goodnight to one another. Finally stepping out to go to her office. Reading over the back up plan papers a few more times before opening her office door. Flicking on the lights, motioning herself around her bed to sit down at her table. Checking the digital clock on her computer screen noting the fact it was now around 12pm. The wind howled just outside her windows as the cool ocean waves symphonized in her ears. The moonlight gave off a somber light. She reaches over to her desk lamp flicking on the switch. Giving her a little bit of light to work with. Shifting around in her chair making herself comfortable, she starts typing on her computer. Focused on her work, just as small knocks on her door steal away her attention. Looking at the door for a split second seeing dim glowing green lights and overly grey figure at the door. Knowing immediately who it was.

"Come in Genji."

She called out, looking back to her computer as the door softly creaks open. Once he hears the ok to come in, he steps in slowly closing the door behind him. His armor clicked softly against his body. She spins a small bit in her chair, getting up to start making coffee for the both of them. This might be a long talk for the night. As she starts the coffee machine, he begins.

"So Angela.. what do you feel about this meeting?"

He moved around a bit, choosing to sit down on the bed, taking off his mask and placing it on the small space next to him. Focused mostly on the doctor as she moved around the small space. Clearly trying to distract himself from the mission on hand. Glancing at her blonde hair moving gracefully following her body's motions. Her white lab coat obstructing her figure in his eyes.

"I think this would be good for all of us to have the enemies of our enemies be our friends as they say. No harm is done if we chat with them to see what they offer to us willingly.."

Her response snapped him out if the small trance he made of her. Hearing the machine pour out coffee into a small cup. She grabs it and turns reaching out for his hand to give him his cup of coffee trying to ease his nerves. Returning to the machine to make her cup next.

"Is it making you nervous Genji?"

She stopped for a bit turning her face slightly to look at genji. Noticing his posture, he tries to make himself look OK but she knew better. She knows he's nervous about this being another faux business like the original Shimada organization.

"How little information there is about them, how they make themselves look like they are trying to "protect their people".. I can not help but to feel this is just another gang like business. I-i.."

He sighs a bit out of frustration of what he's trying to explain. Anger, sadness, nervous was only scratching the surface of his true emotions. His eyes dart back and forth between his hands and his cup, never once looking up to Angela's blue eyes. Then out of his periferal vision comes Angela's hand to softly graze his own. Calming his nerves at least a little.

"I'm sure this is nothing like your family. We have to take a chance to see if they truly mean to help us against our common enemies. They reached out to us.. Doesn't that show something?"

She stops for a brief moment, tilting her head slightly. Trying to take his focus off of his unease.

"They contacted us willingly and offered up their aid to us. We need all the help we can get. This is a big battle we cannot win alone. Your family wouldnt have done that without having something to gain."

Genji slowly eases his head up, making eye contact with the doctor. He stares into her eyes seemingly trying to find anything to argue on. He sees the small bags under her eyes, ruining the fair tone of her skin. He knows she's tired.. Plus she's not wrong and he knows that too. His family wouldn't have bothered to contact somebody else far away from them nevermind give them aid. With how they were and how easily they turned their back on him, of course they wouldn't help others across the sea and he knew it all to well.

"I know.. You're right. I guess I was just overthinking it."

He whispers in response, taking his hand over hers, rubbing his thumb over the back of hers to calm himself. Turning his attention back down at their hands, blushing a bit of their closeness. Their skin tones contrasting eachother beautifully in his eyes. He glances up at her, his caramel eyes softening while her blue ones were still focused on his face, glancing around to see if he truly is soothing himself. Noticing instead his blush on his cheeks. Just a slight dust of pink on his pale scarred features.

"I trust Winston wouldn't have bothered if he thought this was a real threat. He wouldn't put us in such danger if it was."

She giggles a bit before smiling softly at him. Backing up to grab her coffee in one hand. Putting it up to her lips for a sip. Genji mimicked her motions, putting his robotic hand under the cup. Taking a small glup of coffee, sighing a bit after having something warm soothe his bodily nerves. His eyes closed for a moment taking in the peace of Angela's words.

"I trust him too, just needed some comfort about this.."

He smiles back at Angela. Scars stretching a bit from his smile making it a bit wonky in someone else's eyes but she didn't mind it. It was part of him. They both sat in silance smiling at one another, enjoying eachother's company in her office. Maybe it's not like that..

However things weren't so calm and quiet on the other side.. Bachata blared through the streets as people from all places danced with smiles on their faces. Music filled their soul with happiness. It was a paradise of leisure that other yearned for in their streets of Massachusetts. Food lined tables for the whole corner, children ran around. Their giggles overlapping the music. In the centre of it all was a "small" ornate building lined with greek style pillars and glass halls coming from the left and right of the building. White concrete fences lined affront, turn a bit and you'd see a concrete backyard which held the party. Two tall omnics were lined at the front gate, one dealing with a small little girl blowing bubbles with a smile plastered on her face. The other leaned against a door, seemingly having a conversation with someone just out of view. The sun blared down onto the streets, never letting up. The heat didn't bother anyone from what can be seen.

Inside the building was the little one all grown up, conversing with yet another omnic. A bit different from the other ones outside the building. He had a few stray wires for "hair" with a small gold necklace around his neck. The little one now had a head of platinum blonde tight curls around their head, roots a dark brown. Their body and face more matured to show their age. Walking with haste, passing a few pictures and paintings of the old leader and his siblings sometimes with their mother. Some were just his siblings, others was just one of each in their own world. Further down the hall was a large room with several stairs all leading in different directions. Statue of the leader crouched down in the middle of it all. Same serious expression on his face. A NYC baller hat, hair in a low ponytail behind him. A baggy jacket over a slim fit tee and equally slim pants. Next to it was a stone tablet with engraved writing. In bold letters was his date of birth and Death on the top. The odd pair stroll the room, going up a flight of stairs.

"Did they confirm the meeting time? Or another ghosted conversation?"

The omnic asked with an amused tone in his voice. Looking down at the little one next to him with a tilt of his head. A gutted scoff reached his audio mechanics. Making eye contact with the one who produced the sound.

"Valen, they responded this time and even decided to set up the exact time too. So yee they most definitely ghosted my ass. Willingly! Might I add"

They responded sarcastically with a smirk on their face. Valen couldn't exactly see it since they focused back on looking down at the floor to make sure they didn't misstep on the stairs. He puts out his arm as a pre-caution for them which they grab without hesitation knowing they were gonna fall forward if they didn't. His purely white robotic fore arm contrasted against their pale brown one. If he could show expressions better, he would've smiled softly at the contrast of colors. He looks back up to the steps ahead, retorting back with sass.

"Haha, Very funny Capt."

He fake chuckles, whipping his head down to 'glare' at the back of their head. Covered mostly by their bleached white curls. Their chuckles echoing slightly in the hollow glass halls. The omnic was clearly not amused with their leader's response to his serious question. At last reaching the top of the steps, arms still interlocked for a bit longer before finally pulling apart.

"So this Friday at 10 am?"

He asked slightly concerned about the little one next to him. Once they perk back up to continue on the path to their office, they say.

"Sadly yeah, 10 am.. I assumed they were mostly early people and for something like this, I treated it the way a court would."

They sigh softly, their face forward with eyes drifting down a bit in thought. Looking back up to the omnic next to them. Their black eyes shined a bit from the refraction of sunlight. A hidden anger deep within their pupils.

"This is important for both parties. Kinda like a watch my back i watch yours kinda exchange. Or at least i hope.. they've proven themselves to be strong in the past, so nurturing them when they are weak helps us too. They'd be more willing to chat with us if we need aid as well.."

They motion their hand for emphasis before they stop in their tracks, facing a photo that hung in front of them. A photo of a kindergarten graduation. Clearly their graduation when they were little. They stood in the middle with a white dress before a sign of the school's name. The leader dressed in all black with yet another NYC baller hat and the second oldest wore all white with a few black embroidery words spewed around. Both crouched down next to the little one with smiles on their faces.

"He put a lot of himself into making this place for the family.. Wanting a safe place for any and all in the ghetto. Free from gangs and streets that could kill anyone not looking out for themselves.."

Their hand reached out to touch the glass. Grazing softly over the face of the prior leader. Their nails scratching the glass a little, Creating a rough static sound. Eyes focused on all three of them, specifically their smiles. They genuinely seemed happy.

"Like hell imma let some robots and sneaky operations destroy this place. They gotta get through me before they hurt my family."

They noticed in the glass reflection that Valen had his attention elsewhere. Looking out the window behind him. They turned back to the omnic with fire in their eyes. Only to see Valen notice the movements to yet again be unamused but in his posture.

"Leo.. calm down. This is Overwatch not some kids show villains we talking about."

Valen retorted plainly to the overdramatization of his captain speech and actions. Leo mimics back unamused then quickly changes the expression with an annoyed sigh. Arms thrown up in yet another dramatic way before scurrying to their office door which wasn't that far off from where they stood.

"I meant Talon and Null Sceptor not Overwatch. Ya moron. Why would I invite the enemy into a place I find sacred huh?!?!"

They swing open the door, nearly hitting themself on the couch they had in the middle. Trying to get behind their desk for some paper work. Moving the desk chair away to open a few drawers. Valen steps after them, gently closing the door behind him and promptly standing infront of it. Leo stopped half way through the rummaging to smile, holding up a news article with the headline 'Overwatch Back Once More To Defend Against Omnic Crisis'.

"Well nevermind that. We got a few days to prepare for Winston and others coming over. Which to be honest he didn't disclose to me who was going to be coming with him... so we gotta make some accommodations for their carrier plane and a nice way for them to feel welcomed here. The last thing I wanna do is frighten them."

Valen chocked a laugh, turning away from Leo's line of sight to snort another laugh. Their captain whipping their head to the laughing man in the room, glaring harshly at him.

"ANYWAY.. ya little turd."

They whispered, pulling the chair back and sat down, skimming over the few lines underneath the picture of the new Overwatch. Trying to figure out what best to do for a warm family welcome for all teammates but also looking as to who is planning on coming back and who isn't.

"Of course Winston is coming as he is the leader of it and maybe Lena since she seems to be the only pilot on hand. Mei also seems to be a good guess as well since the two seem to be close."

Looking back up at the omnic with a small smirk on their face. A hint of mischievous intent behind the expression.

"Wanna bet who else is coming to the Fiesta? 20 bucks on Mercy and genji comin in."

The omnic chuckles Zooming next to Leo, placing on hand on the top of the chair and the other on the desk. A happy tone in his voice as he studied the picture.

"30 bucks on Mei and Cassidy"

He points down at her and turns his attention back to Leo, who was more interested on reading and studying the picture than to look at him. They laugh in unison before cut abruptly by the door swinging open. Slowly letting their laughter die, focusing on the doorway. A small figure comes from the hallway into the room, holding a plate of foods.

"Aquí tu ta mamá, tu comida." (Here you are mamá, your food)

A small elderly lady comes into the room with a small smile. Clearly Leo's mother with how she addressed them. Her dyed red curls softly bounce as she put the food on top of the paper, looking at her child with admiration. Her hazel eyes scanned over Leo's face then turned to Valen.

"Aye Valen.. si tu podrás comer la comida que ése. Pero todo con tempo mijitó." (Oh Valen, if only you can eat the food I made.. but everything comes in time)

She throws her hands up a bit in exaggeration over the fact that he couldn't eat. With a smile she turns to leave before hearing a simple "Gracias Ma/ Senorá" from both Valen and Leo. Finally leaving the room, closing the door softly.

[rosaceaealba]

DAY 2

~•°•~

I have given Mother Hekate some toast with garlic spread (my first ever offering to her since finally setting up her altar!!) and Lady Aphrodite some iced hibiscus tea with honey (the fruit bowl next to the cup was my first ever offering to her, I simply hadn't made this account to log it yet ^^')

Due to my physical strength being incredibly lacking and having an irrational fear of fire, I have been struggling to light candles on my own. For Lady Aphrodite, I've unfortunately had to receive help from others in lighting it, but I've finally been able to do it on my own while lighting Hekate's!! I'm choosing to take it as a good sign for our partnership (would that be the correct term? I'm hoping that doesn't sound too informal ^^')

(a bit more personal information below, nothing bad, just a little uneeded to those who aren't me or any of our alters >>)

I'm keeping a public log of my deity work in order to receive criticism from those more experienced than I, as well as to put a memory log somewhere where the rest of our system frequents (as we have found that paper and pen, as well as the notes app tend to not work, as we don't frequently check them >>). I plan on making a formal introduction post to clarify who I am and my situation

[chickensarentcheap]

And because you can't have one without the other...

THE HOODIE

@tragiclyhip @munstysmind @themaradwrites @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @thebejeweledwatercat @karimac @kmc1989 @asirensrage @residentdormouse @mrsmungus @alisbackalleybbq @ninjasawakenedmystar @theesirenteller

Moving on is impossible. Even with the most honourable and respectful of men. After all, how do you love a person when your heart still firmly rests in the hands of someone else?

Her heart is heavy as she slips into the hoodie; a mixture of anticipation and fear co-mingling with the guilt and regret that’s been burdening her for four and a half years. While she’s relieved he agreed to the job and both anxious and excited to see him again, there’s genuine fear gnawing at both stomach and nerves. She worries about how deep the damage may still run; how ferociously he may be clinging to all that hurt and anger. Nik had always kept her informed of how he was doing during the first year; searching endlessly and aimlessly for her, struggling to maintain his sobriety, one moment filled with rage and hate and the other with heartache and loneliness.

She wouldn’t blame him; if -upon seeing her- he changed his mind about the job and turned his back on both her and Millie. She had wounded him deeply; fleeing without explanation and leaving nothing but random articles of clothing, her recently factory-reset cell phone, and an apology hastily scribbled on a scrap piece of paper. Nothing more than a simple and pathetic “I’m sorry”; placed in the middle of the kitchen table and propped up by her favourite mug. It seemed silly; leaving something so trivial behind. But in the back of her mind she’d hoped it would give him some kind of solace; having something that she’d loved and had brought her so much joy. Perhaps he’d even see it as something much deeper; both a reassurance that her absence wouldn’t be permanent, and a promise that she’d one day return to that cup. And to him.

Drawing the sleeves of the hoodie over her hands, she lifts them to her face and inhales deeply. While his scent may no longer cling to the fabric, if she closes her eyes and tries hard enough, she can still remember it. Familiar and comforting, it fills her with a sense of peace and contentment; allowing her to immerse herself in the memories of those much happier, easier times. It’s the smell of home; of safety and security and love. A reminder of the last time she’d ever been truly happy. When she’d been taught what love…REAL LOVE…was all about it. It was patience and it was sacrifice and it was choosing to be together even when all the cards were stacked against them. It was taking the bad along with the good and learning more about yourself than the person you’re with. Tyler had shown her that she was still worthy of love and being loved in return; taking all her broken pieces and every so slowly and tenderly putting them back together. Mark hadn’t destroyed her, he’d simply damaged her. And another man was ready, willing, and able to help her out of that deep, dark hole she’d been tossed into. And when he wasn’t able to, he just climbed down into that hole with her. Loving her when she wasn’t capable of loving herself.

She misses that. That level of adoration. Trust. Acceptance.

Most of all, she misses HIM.

[biggestdev]

Cheap (kinda) DIY hormone testing

Hormone level testing is something that came became an issue during my transition; I am going through my doctor for HRT, and my health insurance bit me in the ass. Since my doc is a small practice, they ship my samples out to get tested, and insurance only covers hormone tests if they take place AT my GP's practice. Like, in the physical building the sample was collected int. A weird cutout, but I assume it's something meant to fuck me over intentionally, and I can't make them budge on it.

So, I switched to an at-home, mail-in hormone test. I'm putting my two cents out there, just in case it helps anyone, I assume the DIY-ers out there are already aware of stuff like this. The test I ordered is from ZRT Lab:

Specifically, I ordered the "Hormone Trio" blood spot sample. There is a saliva sample method available (spit in a cup vs wipe blood on a sample paper), but their own research papers indicate the saliva sample isn't as accurate for testosterone, so I went with the blood spot method. It's not CHEAP by any means, at $130, but it's certainly cheaper than the $500 I WAS CHARGED by the local university hospital to do the SAME TESTS!

There is a caveat in the fine print that you should be aware of: California residents still need a doctor's note for ZRT Lab to process their samples. I don't know why, it's stupid, but it's a clear line that they draw.

This is the cheapest test I was able to find for these hormones, everything else either left out progesterone, or cost close to (or over) $200. I don't know if transmasc people need any other hormones tested, but for me, a transfemme, the three in the Hormone Trio test (Estradiol, Progesterone, and Testosterone) were the exact 3 my doctor was looking for.

As far as how easy it is to use, I found it very straightforward: it includes a lancet to poke a hole in one of your fingertips (the instructions said to go into the side of the finger at a weird angle, but I couldn't get enough blood to take samples, so I gave up and went right in the middle of my fingerprint, that worked much better), then drip blood onto the indicated spots on the sample card. Let the samples dry overnight, then pack it up and ship as directed (it comes with a prepaid shipping label).

On top of that, I was surprised at how little information they require to process a sample. there is a form sent with the kit, and I only included my name (chosen, not legal), age, gender, email, and a list of current medications. I also had to fill out at least one "symptom" (since they didn't have "is trans" in there, I just chose "mild anxiety", literally just pick anything), I know this because I DIDN'T choose a symptom at first, and they actually called me after they received it, telling me they need at least one symptom in order to process the sample. The nice lady on the phone actually started reading out all 50+ possible symptoms, I took pity on her and stopped her pretty quick ("oh you said anxiety? yeah, sure, that one".)

All in all, it took about 10 days from when I shipped the sample, to the results being posted in their online portal.

All in all, I'm happy with how easy and cheap (compared to the alternative) this test was, and I'll probably be using them for the foreseeable future, unless of course my insurance gets it's head screwed on straight and actually starts helping me instead of just charging me to do nothing, but we all know they'd light themselves on fire before actually helping anyone 😊

Oh, yeah, and this isn't an ad or anything, I did my own research and paid for the test in full, it's just a regular old review.

[nerdyengineerarbiter]

The Journey of Self-Discovery Through Daily Gratitude Journaling

Introduction

In a international where the hustle and bustle as a rule overshadow our inside innovations, finding moments of reflection can look like a daunting process. Yet, there exists a straight forward yet profound apply which could remove darkness from the trail to self-discovery: day after day gratitude journaling. Whether you name it a gratitude magazine, gratitude diary, or appreciation magazine, this day to day ritual invitations us to pause and get pleasure from the little things in lifestyles. By accomplishing this considerate exercising, we no longer in simple terms cultivate a experience of thankfulness but additionally embark on a transformative trip closer to information ourselves improved.

In this newsletter, we will be able to explore The Journey of Self-Discovery Through Daily Gratitude Journaling, examining its benefits, techniques, and the way it might sooner or later result in confidential growth and success.

What is a Gratitude Journal? Defining a Gratitude Journal

A gratitude magazine is a committed house where contributors file what they're grateful for on a accepted foundation. This can be day-by-day or weekly entries that spotlight equally widespread occasions and small joys. But why is this perform so helpful?

The Origin of Gratitude Journals

The inspiration of conserving a gratitude diary isn’t new; it has roots in historic philosophies. Various cultures have regarded the significance of expressing thankfulness as a way of enhancing emotional good-being.

How Does It Work?

At its middle, maintaining a day to day gratitude log includes jotting down stuff you have fun with—be it other folks, studies, or even useful pleasures like a heat cup of coffee on a cold morning. This task encourages mindfulness and supports shift cognizance from negativity to positivity.

Benefits of Keeping a Gratitude Diary Promoting Mental Well-Being

Research shows that normally writing in an appreciation journal can noticeably strengthen intellectual fitness by cutting back warning signs of anxiety and melancholy.

Enhancing Relationships

When we specific gratitude in opposition to others in our journals, we foster deeper connections with them, in the end enriching our relationships.

Boosting Self-Esteem

Writing down what we’re thankful for allows us to acknowledge our achievements and strengths—boosting general vainness.

How to Start Your Daily Gratitude Log? Finding Your Medium: Digital vs. Paper

Should you move virtual or stick with very good outdated pen and paper? Each medium has its reward. Digital platforms may perhaps be offering comfort while paper journals permit for extra non-public expression by using handwriting.

Setting Aside Time Each Day

Consistency is vital! Allocate exclusive occasions throughout the time of your day—probably morning or evening—to mirror on what you're grateful for.

Choosing Your Focus

Decide whether or not you Browse around this site would like to recognition on broader topics or distinct moments. A “thankfulness magazine” can differ broadly depending on exotic selection.

The J

[briamichellewrites]

52

Bria remarked jokingly, "Being in the same room together is sometimes all Tony and I need to do to annoy each other."

Anthony chuckled. The statement was accurate. Although they had their disagreements, they generally got along. Neither of them was accustomed to having another person in the room. He was the youngest of five children, and she was the only one. When he was born, all of his siblings had left the house. His parents had no intention of having any more children. Due to his mental health issues, his father did not give him much attention.

He desired a father figure to help him fill that gap. Unfortunately, that was exploited by a family friend. For years, the family friend sexually assaulted him. In addition, the man sexually assaulted his friends. They were afraid and kept it a secret. At last, he told his mother what had happened. The fact that she allowed him into their lives appalled her.

He was getting help from a psychiatrist in secret. Only Betsy was aware. She kept it a secret because she loved and respected him. She had no obligation to inform anyone. He discovered in 1994 that he and a former girlfriend had a son named Bailey.

He accepted full responsibility as soon as he learnt. At the time, he and Betsy had broken up for a brief period. He had a casual relationship with another woman during that period. Rather than pursue a new relationship with the other woman, he made the decision to improve his relationship with Betsy. He was allowed to have a relationship with his son, according to Betsy.

Her pregnancy was just recently discovered. After several months of extreme stress, the news was much needed. Roger congratulated them after they told him. He was genuinely delighted for them. They didn't know Bria had company when they came over to tell her. That was all right. They had time to wait. She and her favourite band were enjoying themselves. She was the type of person who was friendly and approachable. That was something he respected about her.

Betsy was more reserved and disliked being the centre of attention. She would much rather be in the background. Roger possessed traits from both of these personalities. He was gregarious, but he also preferred to watch rather than take part. Each of them consumed enough pizza and soda. The leftovers were placed in Bria's refrigerator.

She ensured that everyone had what they needed and was an excellent hostess. She got a litre of Pepsi and Diet Pepsi since she was unsure of what kind of soda they preferred. She laid out plates, cups, napkins, and forks for them to use. She laid out a roll of paper towels since she was out of napkins. The pizza tasted great! Within half an hour, it was delivered. While they waited, she showed them around her home. The house was pleasant! She let the fresh air in by opening the secret pocket doors.

The view of downtown Los Angeles was breathtaking. Her walk-in closet was well-organised with her shoes, purses and clothing. In her closet, she also kept stuffed animals and extra bedding. They took note of the pillow and blanket they placed on her bed. They were right where she said they would be. A hairbrush, extra ponytail holders, and makeup were on a tray in her bathroom.

She considered making a recording studio out of one of her spare rooms. Compared to driving to the studio, it would be more convenient. She intended to seek assistance from her friend Mike. Jon enquired about the type of studio she desired. She only desired a basic setup that included a keyboard or piano, a microphone, and any additional equipment she required. They volunteered to assist her in choosing everything. Since she had no idea what she was doing, she would adore that.

They chuckled. One of her favourite features of the house was the bathtub in the master bathroom. The tranquilly of the backyard was another reason she enjoyed it.

“Is my English showing again”, she joked.

Her English accent was a major source of inside jokes between her and Tony. Additionally, she substituted English words and phrases for American ones. even after nearly a decade of residing in the United States. She also made use of military time.

"What time is it?" one of the guys asked.

The time was 18:30, she replied. Tony replied that it was 8:30 at that point. The joke she told made them laugh. The guys bid her farewell because it was getting late. They decided to get together with her the next afternoon. She provided them with her phone number. They were grateful to her for the pizza. Feeling a little worn out, Betsy had gone out to the living room to sit down. Anthony approached her to check on her. She was okay. Bria closed the front door and walked over to them.

She was so thrilled to have her favourite band come visit her, and they could tell! They brought her into the living room with them. She sat down with Roger, and Anthony told her about the baby. The prospect of having a younger sibling thrilled her. Betsy felt a sense of relief! She was afraid she would be angry. She was also informed about her stepbrother, Bailey.

Anthony described how, until recently, he was unaware of him. What was his age? He was six years old. Due to their breakup at the time, Anthony confirmed that he did not cheat on her mother. She recalled that breakup. She was on a tour of television interviews when it occurred. To tell her about it, they waited until she got home. Teenage hormones made her angry because she believed he was abandoning her.

"I will still be a part of your life," he explained.

Before reconciling, they had been apart for roughly a year. She desired to meet Bailey. Hearing that made him happy. What was her opinion of meeting Bon Jovi? She wasn't sure whether she was making a fool of herself because she was so anxious. They told her she had done fine and laughed. Was it something they were involved in?

“To make it happen, I may have pulled some strings.”

"Thank you," she said.

She was very welcome! They wanted to do it to cheer her up following the assault. Indeed, it did! Bria had a terrific time with Jon and his band! They loved watching her practise and conversing with her. She had a great deal of talent. Bria was a real singer. She could sound good without expensive equipment. Everything was natural. She was receptive to criticism as well.

When her documentary was released, they all watched it. She was grounded and modest about her background. When they found out that she had been attacked because she was bisexual, they were appalled. They didn't understand it. Given that she was among the kindest people they had ever met, she didn't deserve it. When Jon told his wife about it, he was furious. Bisexuality was not an excuse for violence, they both agreed.

@alina-dixon @feelingsofaithless

[manahilwattoo]

Zero-Waste Living: Simple Steps to a Greener Home

In a world increasingly aware of environmental concerns, many of us are turning to more sustainable ways of living. One concept that has gained popularity in recent years is zero-waste living.

tep 1: Start With a Waste Audit

Before you can reduce waste, you need to understand what you're actually throwing away. Spend a week observing your household trash—food waste, packaging, single-use plastics, paper, and more.

Just as you’d analyze keywords and content performance in SEO blogging to refine your strategy, this "audit" helps identify the biggest opportunities for improvement.

Quick Tip: Keep a journal or use a tracking app. Record what you're discarding most frequently and brainstorm alternatives.

Step 2: Simplify and Swap

Zero-waste doesn't mean throwing everything out and buying new "eco" products. It starts with using what you already have, then making smarter choices moving forward.

Plastic wrap? Switch to beeswax wraps or silicone lids.

Paper towels? Use washable cloths or old T-shirts.

Single-use bottles? Get a reusable stainless-steel water bottle.

Think of these swaps like optimizing blog content. Instead of rewriting everything from scratch, you refine what’s already working and improve what’s not.

Step 3: Buy in Bulk and Choose Reusables

One of the easiest ways to cut down on packaging waste is to shop in bulk. Bring your own containers to stores that offer bulk bins and fill them with essentials like rice, beans, flour, or snacks.

Even in SEO blogging, we often talk about "evergreen content"—something that works over and over again. Reusables are the “evergreen content” of sustainable living. Invest in glass jars, produce bags, and reusable shopping totes.

Step 4: Compost Organic Waste

Food waste makes up a large portion of household trash. Composting is an excellent way to reduce landfill contributions while creating nutrient-rich soil for your garden or plants.

You don’t need a backyard to compost. Countertop compost bins and worm composting kits work great in small apartments. Composting mirrors the idea of link-building in SEO blogging—what you discard can still be valuable elsewhere in the ecosystem.

Step 5: Rethink Shopping Habits

Every item you bring into your home has a life cycle. Ask yourself:

Do I need this?

Can I borrow or buy it second-hand?

What will happen to it when I’m done?

Supporting local, sustainable brands or shopping at thrift stores helps reduce waste and often saves money. Like keyword research in SEO blogging, smarter shopping is about being intentional and informed.

Step 6: DIY When You Can

Making your own cleaning products, beauty items, or even snacks is not only fulfilling but also reduces packaging and lets you control ingredients.

Examples:

All-purpose cleaner: Vinegar + citrus peels + water

Toothpaste: Baking soda + coconut oil + essential oils

Granola bars: Oats, honey, seeds, and dried fruits

In SEO blogging, original content performs best—DIY is your way of creating original “content” for your home that’s low-waste and high-value.

Step 7: Educate and Involve Your Household

Zero-waste works best when everyone in your home is on board. Create a culture of awareness by involving your kids, roommates, or partner in the process. Make it fun: create a zero-waste challenge or reward system.

This is like building a content strategy with your SEO blogging team—when everyone understands the goal, the results are more powerful and long-lasting.

Step 8: Progress Over Perfection

Remember: zero-waste living isn’t about being perfect. It’s about doing what you can with what you have. Every reusable coffee cup, composted banana peel, or upcycled item makes a difference.

If a single blog post can impact thousands of readers, imagine what small eco-friendly habits practiced daily can do for the planet.

Final Thoughts: From SEO Blogging to Sustainable Living

The principles behind successful SEO blogging—intentional action, mindful improvement, long-term strategy—are beautifully aligned with zero-waste living. They both thrive on consistency, thoughtful choices, and a genuine desire to do better.

So, whether you’re optimizing content or your carbon footprint, the most important thing is to start. Your home, your blog, and the planet will thank you.

Article 2: Learning Through Travel: 10 Life Lessons You Can’t Learn in a Classroom

Primary Keyword: Travel blogging Word Count: ~1350

Classrooms teach us about formulas, history, and theories. But some of the most powerful life lessons don’t come from textbooks—they come from experiences. That’s where travel blogging plays a vital role, capturing the essence of these real-world lessons and sharing them with others hungry to explore life beyond the four walls of a classroom.

Let’s unpack ten profound lessons that only travel can teach—and how these journeys are shaping not just perspectives, but entire lives.

1. Adaptability Is a Superpower

Missed a flight? Lost your luggage? Booked a hostel that turned out to be... sketchy? Travel throws curveballs. Learning to pivot and adapt builds a kind of resilience you can’t study—it has to be lived.

For travel bloggers, these moments often become the heart of their best stories. Readers connect most with the real, messy, unfiltered experiences.

2. People Are Fundamentally Good

It’s easy to be cynical when watching the news. But when you’re lost in a foreign city and a stranger goes out of their way to help you, your worldview shifts.

Travel blogging often highlights these human connections—proof that kindness is a universal language.

3. Culture Is More Than a Museum Exhibit

Reading about a festival is one thing. Dancing in the streets of Rio during Carnival or sharing a meal with locals in Morocco is another.

This kind of immersive learning brings cultures alive. Travel blogging bridges the gap, offering readers a window into how others live, celebrate, and love.

4. You Don’t Need Much to Be Happy

Travel, especially budget travel, strips life down to the essentials. A backpack, a good pair of shoes, a journal, and you're set. Materialism fades when you’re watching the sunset over the Sahara or eating fresh mango in Thailand.

Travel bloggers often reflect on this minimalist lifestyle, reminding readers that happiness isn’t about accumulation—it’s about appreciation.

5. Patience Truly Is a Virtue

Whether you’re stuck in customs or navigating a foreign bureaucracy, you quickly learn the power of patience. It’s a mental muscle that gets stronger the more you travel.

Travel blogging teaches readers to slow down, enjoy the process, and trust that not everything must happen on their schedule.

6. You’re Capable of More Than You Think

Climbing a mountain. Navigating a train system in a new language. Solo traveling across continents. These experiences push you past self-imposed limits.

Travel blogging celebrates these triumphs—not to brag, but to inspire. Your story might just be the reason someone else dares to try.

7. The World Is Your Classroom

From cooking classes in Tuscany to meditation retreats in Bali, the world offers endless lessons. Nature becomes your science lab. Markets become your economics class. Conversations become language lessons.

This global education is the heartbeat of travel blogging. It’s about making learning dynamic, alive, and deeply personal.

8. Connection Beats WiFi Every Time

While connectivity is a blessing, travel reminds us of the importance of real human connection—eye contact, shared meals, spontaneous conversations.

Travel blogging may be digital, but its roots lie in genuine encounters that transcend screens.

9. Every Place Has a Story

Whether it’s a quiet village in Laos or a buzzing street in Tokyo, every corner of the world has a tale to tell. The role of a travel blogger is to listen deeply and share those stories with integrity and heart.

Through this, readers not only learn about places—they learn about humanity.

10. Home Is a Feeling, Not a Place

The more you travel, the more you realize home isn’t a static location. It’s comfort, connection, and familiarity—even if it’s in a cafe in Lisbon or a tent in Patagonia.

Travel blogging helps others realize that they too can find pieces of “home” wherever they go.

Final Thoughts: Why Travel Blogging Matters

In an age where formal education is being questioned, travel blogging steps in as a modern mentor. It teaches life skills, emotional intelligence, cultural empathy, and more—through lived experience.

So, if you're torn between reading about the world or living it—choose both. Let the world be your teacher and your blog be your notebook.