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kcrossvine-art · 1 month

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Hi fellow adventurers!! A few weeks ago i caught wind of "Delicious in Dungeon". I'm not really an anime person, but I am a TTRPG, CRPG, and cooking person- . And holy shit. It is so good i convinced my partner to binge read the whole thing. I'm caught up on dungeon meshi, the anime, and just yesterday i also finished dungeon meshi, the manga.

Its rare to come across a serialized story that is so thematically cohesive and knows its characters so well. All of the bonus content like the artbooks and monster tidbits are just the icing on top.

So, inspired by Ryōko Kui's writing and illustration I'm going to attempt to create a recipe for every single Delicious in Dungeon recipe!-

Today that means Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom hotpot is on the menu!

(As always you can find the cooking instructions and full ingredient list under the break-)

MY NAMES CROSS NOW LETS COOK LIKE ANIMALS

SO, “what goes in to a Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom hotpot?” YOU MIGHT ASKThis is one of the pricier dishes until we get to the kelpies and dragons of the menu-

Rock lobster tail

Porcini mushrooms

Shiitake mushrooms

Snow fungus

Small potatos

Fensi (glass noodles)

Water

OPTIONAL: your choice of dipping sauces

There was a crossover/promotional event in Shibuya which featured various realworld dishes from the series. They had one for Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom, but they used prawns. while those cook better in a hotpot, they also didn't look enough like the scorpion for me, they also used udon noodles for the slime and a seaweed/kale(?) mixture for the algae. If you're looking for substitutes due to price or availability i would start with those ingredients.

AND, “what does a Huge Scorpion and Walking Mushroom hotpot taste like?” YOU MIGHT ASKI hope Senshi would forgive me for technically cooking the lobster outside the pot, once he tastes it.

Okay im always partial to veggies but wowowowowowowoowowowow the snow fungus and the mushrooms tasted soooooooooooo good in the lobster stock

A nice delicate layering of different flavors

Try to get a bite with the lobster meat and shiitake together, dip in butter then chili- trust me

Its up to you what texture you prefer if you want to put the noodles in at the end or put them in halfway through the meal. Either way dont go for eating those first as theyre very filling

I think this would pair well with a citrus drink, something light and clarifying

This would also pair well with being extremely high and hungry (if you feel safe cooking while inebriated lol) very calorically dense

For the trial run I did one lobster tail in the pot with everything else, and one lobster tail off to the side to be picked apart. The former is more in spirit with a hotpot, but it got rubbery as the meal went on and lost its nice taste. The latter may be a bit more work but all you have to do still is boil it and set it aside. I found it held up much better. It was also easier to get inside the shell.

. If you have hardshell maine lobster available, i think it would be superior to rock lobster (keep in mind crustaceans will get rubbery if cooked too long in the pot) . Green onions and/or lotus root would make excellent additions

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From getting the ingredients out to sitting down and eating, id say it took maybe 30 minutes max? It'd vary on how fast you can prep vegetables and get the various implements heated.

Hotpots are not something i do very often as i'm usually just feeding myself. I think thats why a hotpot makes perfect sense to start the series off. If you want to set the tone of "take care of yourself, eat food with others, and use what you have" (generally speaking) there is nothing more simplistic, flexible, and defeats-the-purpose-if-you-eat-it-alone than a hotpot. Gather around and let your friends bring ingredients to the pot if you want to fill your heart up extra full <3

I'm doing something different here because unlike previous recipes where i used a bunch of different sources and made my own recipe out of hodge-podging it, or just used another persons recipe entirely if they did it really well, i made this more whole-cloth based off of what i had available, what I could discover through research, and my existing knowledge. Instead of the recipe being 50/50 original, this one is more 20/80. So. I'll pass the final verdict off to you guys :D

What would you rate this recipe out of 10? (with 1 being food that makes one physically sick and 10 being food that gives one a lust for life again.) Did you love it, did you hate it? What're your thoughts on what I could do different, and what would you have done instead?

🐁 ORIGINAL RESIPPY TEXT BELOW 🐁

Ingredients:

2 Rock lobster tails

3 Porcini mushrooms

2 Shiitake mushrooms

Snow fungus (a good handful, should rehydrate in the hotpot)

2 Small waxy potatos

Fensi (glass noodles)

Water/lobster stock

Method:

Lightly rinse all of your vegetables beforehand and let them dry.

Vertically slice the porcini mushrooms. Cut off and dice the stems of the shiitake mushrooms. You can slice the tops if youd like.

Peel and cube the potatoes, roughly an inch each.

For the lobster tails; Boil a pot of salted water. Keep the shell on. Weigh the largest tail and add 1 minute of cooking time for every ounce of weight.

When done, strain the lobster from the water. Pour the water into your hotpot as the base. Serve the lobster on the side so people can pick the meat out to dip into the hotpot.

Bring the hotpot to a simmer. Add the potato cubes, snow fungus, mushrooms, and noodles.

OPTIONAL: this wasnt in the show, but its fun having sauces on the side :) i had oyster sauce, dry seasoned chili dip, melted butter, and soy sauce available

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #cooking #digital art

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foxofninetales · 5 months

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You get more leverage with a crowbar

"...I told you," bristles Elliot, stalking in an angry little half-circle around the open – very open – door. It's a heavy door, fireproof, and designed to add an extra layer of overnight security to the collection in the room beyond, but it hadn't been able to stand against the explosives that had been packed around its hinges and lock. "I told you there was something off about the whole setup. Or do you think that it's just a coincidence that someone else decided to rob the museum right after we took down all their security precautions?" He prowls back around again, feet automatically stepping over the unconscious security guard who is dreaming happily on the low-pile carpet – one of several who lies scattered decoratively around the museum thanks to Sophie’s intervention.

Hardison sees his point, but at the same time, it's not like mister punchy-man is the one who has been putting in the hard work on this heist so far. "You're upset? Who spent hours”– okay, lie, it was like five minutes, but he has a mystique to cultivate here –"making sure all the alarms were disabled just to find that someone took advantage of his hard work–"

"Your hard work!" Sophie breaks in with an expressive wave of her hands. "You think it's easy spending two weeks being a docent? On a museum salary? During field trip season?!" She shudders beneath the name badge (not hers) that she is still wearing. There are sticky handprints on the hem of her sensible grey suit.

"Quiet!"

They all stop and look at Nate, who is staring down at the fallen door with a deeply contemplative expression. Hardison can almost hear his fans spinning. "Do you ever feel," he says slowly – and that is his sit-up-and-pay-attention voice, his mastermind voice, his I'm-at-heart-a-deeply-creepy-bastard voice, "that we were being led the whole way here?"

Hardison knows by now that the best way to speed up Nate's processor is with a little kick of wounded pride, and he's got plenty of his own to share. "Naw – you're saying that someone mailing us a newspaper article about the failed repatriation attempts around the duke's collection might not have been a coincidence?"

"I'm saying," says Nate, rising predictably to the bait, "that I think this is less to do with the temple and more to do with some other person or agency about which we, currently, know far less than they apparently do us."

"I can tell you they're Chinese," interjects Elliot. Nate's laser-focus snaps to him, and under that stare he gives a shrug. "Or at least that they learned how to build explosives by working with fireworks in Liuyang. Smell that." He takes a deep sniff and let the breath out through his mouth, just like he's at a wine tasting. What a freak [affectionate]. "Notice how the sulfur tang hits the back of your tongue? The bitter finish?"

Hardison sniffs dutifully, but mostly smells...smoke. And not even much of that – not even enough to set off the museum's smoke detectors even if they and everything else in the adorable little setup the museum thinks is a security system weren't sitting there obediently waiting for Hardison to tell them what to do. "Mmmhmm, sure," he lies, with the ease of long practice. "And you're trying to say you know where this guy trained from a smell?"

"It's a very distinctive smell," says Elliott, right on cue. Damn, Hardison is gonna get Elliot bingo fast tonight. "But the explosive placement on that door is more like the placement you'd use in underground structures, so we're dealing with someone who was trained on explosives in mines, or excavation, or–"

He stops dead. Stares at nothing, brows drawing down in a tangle, and mutters something that sounds mystifyingly like "cultural artifacts". Then tilts his head back and yells like the tiniest, angriest rooster in the world:

"WANG PANGZI, YOU GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE RIGHT NOW!"

There's a moment's pause, and then a deep rumbling chuckle. They all turn towards the source of the sound, just in time to see a man amble into the light. He's a big man, fat-over-muscle, but he moves with the kind of ease that tells Hardison that he knows how to use every ounce. Elliot is glaring at him like he's going to go for his ankles any second, but Hardison is saved from having to intervene (i.e., get out his camera) by the delighted trill that comes from Sophie beside him.

"Pangzi, darling!" She drifts forward like a battleship under full sail and is almost instantly wrapped in the big man's arms, both of them breaking into a fast-paced chatter in a language Hardison recognizes from his hacker forums and subbed dramas as a Chinese dialect (not that the man's features and the fact that he's apparently *also* robbing an exhibit of Chinese antiquities aren't also something of a tip-off). Whoever this guy is, Sophie knows him well, so well that their expressive movements as they both gesture effusively with their hands interweave effortlessly.

Hardison's so busy bemusedly watching this unexpected love-fest that he misses the moment that someone else appears on the scene. What he doesn't miss, though, is Nate stiffening beside him. It's almost a Sterling-level stiffen, and that has Hardison glancing over pretty damn quickly, but all he sees is another man, Chinese like the first but a little younger, and far too ordinary in appearance to be in a museum at midnight with an unconscious guard and a still-smoking door. Hardison looks him over evaluatingly: the glasses say "geek" and the sweater says "prep", but the scar on his neck says either "danger" or "has a hell of a story about a power tool".

"Wu Xie," says Nate, not so much smiling as allowing his teeth to surface from the depths. Oh, Nate hates this guy. Hardison perks up in interest.

"Nate," says the man, returning the smile – and Hardison may not know him, but he's stolen enough antiques to recognize a matched set when he sees one. Innnnnteresting. Hardison tries to remember where he's heard the name Wu Xie before – and 3.5 seconds later, it hits him like a box of rocks.

He flails.

"Wait a minute," he says, loud enough to break through the sound of Sophie and the fat man (who appear to have started singing) all indignation at being used by the competition evaporating like smoke in the face of a much greater injustice. "Wait. A. Minute. If that–" he points at Nate's latest nemesis, who blinks "–is Wu Xie, and that–" another, increasingly accusatory jab of his finger "–is Wang Pangzi, then does that mean"– he can hear his own voice getting higher –"does that mean that Zhang Qiling is around here someplace?"

He spins around, futilely scanning the ceiling, and finishes his circle aimed squarely at his cheating, holdout, betrayer of a boyfriend who'd better enjoy having every internet link he clicks be a rickroll for the next week because he knows what he did. "You know Batman and you didn't tell me?!"

** * **

In the quiet shadows of a balcony above, a dark figure crouches on a railing, his black clothing somehow managing to blend with the dimly-lit neutrals of the museum walls. His posture is attentive but comfortable; his hood is pulled down low over his face, and strapped to his back is a black and gold sword that would be worth a heist in its own right.

Silently, a line drops down from the ceiling and a second figure in black – this one upside-down and with a blond ponytail that hangs down like an inverted exclamation-mark – slides down to hang even with the first.

"Hey, Xiaoge," says Parker, holding out an open bag of marshmallows that she'd liberated from the gift shop.

Not turning his head, Xiaoge nods, and takes a handful.

And together they chew in companionable silence, while their families sort things out below.

#dmbj #leverage #dmbj x leverage crossover #should i have been writing something completely different?#absolutely yes #but this has been living in my head for a while and wanted to come out today #my fic #foxfic

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vanwritesfan-fiction · 6 months

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For Jack, maybe he’s taking care of reader when she’s sick and she’s worried about getting him sick but he doesn’t care

"Urban says get better soon." Jack slipped his phone in the pocket of his sweatpants as he walked into the living room. Urban called to check in with you before the headed out to the first of many Halloween parties tonight. Jack had declined his invitation, choosing to spend the night in with you. You were laying under three layers of thick blankets, still shivering as you suffered through your third day of the flu.

"You should go out tonight with them, babe. I know how much you love Halloween." You grinned as you rubbed your nose with a tissue, layering on the sarcasm, because you knew Jack couldn't stand Halloween. "I don't wanna get you sick. You're supposed to go to London next week."

This time you were serious. As much as you would love to be cuddled up to your boyfriend while he nursed you back to health, you would never forgive yourself if he had to miss a work commitment because of you.

"Bold of you to assume I'm here for you." He plopped down on the couch, pulling one of your blankets over his legs as he pulled you into his side, planting a kiss on your forehead. "I can't go out tonight. I'm a celebrity, baby, there would be chaos." Jack chuckled as he shoved a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

You rolled your eyes and let out a big sigh at his arrogant show. You knew it was all an act, because Jack was one of the biggest scaredy cats you had ever met, jumpy at the smallest sound or movement, and that was only magnified on Halloween.

"Oh, how could I forget, Mr. Hollywood. What movie do you want to watch?" Jack shrugged, lifting his feet onto the coffee table. "I'm up for anything."

"Let's watch my favorite: A Nightmare Before Christmas." You grabbed the remote and scrolled through the movie choices.

"That's not scary is it?" You saw Jack's eyes grow wide from the corner of your eye, his fingers intertwined with his beard, a tell that he was nervous.

"Are you asking if a movie with the word 'Christmas' in the title is scary?" You sniffled, patting his thigh.

"It also has the word Nightmare in it." Jack countered, his voice an octave higher than usual. He grabbed your hand, squeezing each finger individually, something he also did when he was nervous.

"I promise to protect you. You're a celebrity after all, wouldn't want anything to happen to you." Jack scoffed, but also pulled you in closer to him, resting his head atop yours.

About 30 minutes into the movie you started a sneezing fit, one right after the other. You sat up to blow your nose, groaning at the congestion in your chest. "I can barely breathe."

"Want me to get you some more cough medicine?" Jack rubbed your arm sympathetically.

"Yes, that would be great, babe. Its in the bathroom, top drawer to the left of the sink." Jack jumped to his feet, and walked to your bathroom to retrieve the bottle.

You knew you had about 30 seconds to put your plan into motion and scare Jack. You just couldn't resist. It wasn't your fault that Jack happened to fall in love with someone obsessed with Halloween. Scaring him was inevitable. You tucked a couple of pillows underneath your blankets to look like you were sleeping beneath the covers, and then you moved to hide behind the couch.

Right on schedule, Jack returned less than a minute later, whistling to himself as he rounded the corner to your living room.

"Babe, I wasn't sure which medicine you wanted, so I just brought both bottles I found." He stopped when he realized you were sleeping. He gently placed the medicine on the table, sinking onto the couch next to you. You cover your mouth to hold your giggles, feeling a cough travel up your chest.

Jack leaned over closer to what he thought was you. "I know I joke about it, but truthfully, I'd get sick a hundred times if it means I get to spend time with you", he whispered, trying not to wake you. "There's literally nowhere else I'd rather be."

You felt bad, but knew you had to commit to the bit, purely for a laugh. You jumped up from behind the couch, placing your hands on Jack's shoulders. "Boo, Jack, Santa Claus is gonna get you!"

"Aaaah!" Jack scrambled off the couch, landing across the floor on his hands and knees. He laid on his back when he realized it was you, flipping you the middle finger. "You fucking suck!"

You bellowed over in laughter, your face turning bright red, as you let out a deep chest cough.

"How much did you hear?" Jack asked, as he pulled you into a hug, clapping you on your back.

"You mean did I hear you say how much you looovvveee me?" You teased him, cupping his cheek.

"Well, I didn't mean any of it. I don't love anyone who scares the shit out of me." Jack pushed his bottom lip out in a pout, hoping to garner some sympathy kisses from you.

"I'm on my deathbed, babe, you can't be mad at me." You snaked your arms around his neck, playing with the curls at the back of his head.

"Well, when you put it like that, I guess I forgive you, and of course I love you, babe." He leaned down to give you a kiss but you turned away. "Jack, sick." You backed away from him, shielding your face as you landed on the couch.

"If you don't give me a kiss, I take it all back." He climbed on top of you, sending you into a fit of giggles as he tickled your stomach. You quickly gave in, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

#jack harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jackharlow #jackman harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow fluff

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makriiii · 7 months

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Caught XIII (Arthur Morgan × f!reader)

Word count: 3.7k

Authors note: My car broke down today so I wrote this while I waited for my friend to save me 💪

Warnings: 18+, angst, cursing.

♡

Caught XIII

The thin layer of cloth from your shirt created a small barrier between you and the rough bark of the tree you sat up against.

You weren't sure what time of the morning it was, though it seemed certainly not too late yet.

The light morning fog reflected like specs of luster in the rays of early sun that cast down through the leaves and branches hanging above you. It caught you in a trance as you stared at its transformation from fog to a dewy blanket over the mostly packed up camp.

No one else was awake yet, not even Hosea. The silence being broken by the conversations of birds and distant snores from around camp.

The distractions slowly waned as your mind fully adjusted, the events of the past few days surfacing.

It'd been a week or so since you'd gone fishing - a day of two catches and two new opportunities for Arthur to give you a hard time for. Said Arthur suddenly making himself known from your left side as he slid over, his head slumping onto your shoulder and startling you with a light gasp.

With his sudden contact to your side, and your jerking under him apon shock, his eyes flew open as he pulled upright suddenly.

You were taken aback while giving him a startled and confused look, his eyes in the sun the same like that of the sky as they stared into you with a mix of drowsiness and annoyance. A result of the realization that it was you infront of him.

The silence between you two stayed as such, but your facial expressions and eyes spoke lengths.

His face was clear with the means of irritation that you woke him. As for you, a look of 'what did I do?'.

It wasn't your fault he scared you after all.

He continued to stare at you. You continued to stare back while being utterly impressed he could hold such a stare, not having even woken a minute ago.

"What?" You finally blurted the question.

"Why'd you do that?" Arthurs tone was heavy and slow, his morning voice very clear.

You were too tired to contort your face into anything that'd give him a strong reaction, but even then, you still didn't understand what he was thinking.

"Do what?"

He grumbles something under his breath, his one hand reaching up to his eyes, rubbing away the sleepiness. "Move like that."

"Oh, I'm sorry -" You started, but he already detected the sarcasm in your voice, waving his hand to try to get you to stop. It made you crack a smile at how fast he was already trying to shut you down.

"Too early." He mumbled angrily, stretching his arms while giving you a deep sigh.

"Oh no, please princess, rest your head on my shoulder so you can sleep alright." You feigned a pitied voice while using his typical insult intended for you, patting your shoulder for him.

He didn't even hesitate. His head landed softly on your shoulder, his eyes already shut.

You watched him from where he was on your shoulder, shocked that he actually accepted your not so genuine offer.

"I wasn't being serious." You groan, giving him a pat on the head. One that maybe wasn't so gentle, but one that wasn't too mean, at least.

He takes a deep breath, getting ready for a full day of you as he removes himself from your shoulder. "Cant you let me sleep?"

"When it's not on me." With that, you gave him a shrug and a shake of your head. You put your entire hand over his face and pushed him away so you had space to depart.

In your upright position came the slight headache you got from last night's drinks that Arthur finally obliged to. You remembered most everything, so clearly you didn't get your money's worth, but at least it saved you the hangover.

Due to your bounties, you had just never gotten around to it till much later, spending your time helping around camp and committing various acts that don't align with that of the law.

It wasn't a step away you got with your thoughts before Arthur's hand grabbed yours, stopping you from starting your day with the rest of the now arising camp.

Looking down at him, he finally started to get on your nerves. It was already too early for this - just like he already mentioned - for whatever he was going to pull now.

Standing there with tired eyes, you looked him over with your hand in his grasp, questioning him with a held brow.

He ushered you with a motion to help him up, groaning with the exertion he was putting into holding onto you.

Grasping his wrist with your other hand, you leaned back with a lazy pull, barely lifting him off the ground.

"Put your back into it." Arthur quipped from below you.

Immediately, you stopped, landing him harsh into a sit again and, in turn, thankfully, making him let go of your wrist.

He chuckled with a twinge of pain, his free hand reaching for that dark and worn hat of his on the ground an arms length away.

"Hope you enjoyed those drinks last night, Morgan." You teased, knowing full well he drank more than you had only to make your wallet hurt.

"Yeah. Last night." He returned, emphasizing the past tense, which made you snicker at him.

With the near passing of a full two months together with Arthur and his pack of outlaws, and despite your hate for another, you both weren't afraid to express how comfortable you had gotten with each other. Even though, only in a way that was with the pure intention of making life more difficult for each other.

It was easy to let your mouth slip with any insult around him. He wouldn't do anything to you. He knew this too. Unfortunate for him, but you weren't free of him curtailing it by doing the same back.

As the day started and the rest of camp got ready for the day of traveling, Arthur ushered you along so that, for some reason, you two would leave first on your horses.

He was leading the way, as he and Charles were the ones who had found this place after all.

You kept giving him looks. Confused looks. You didn't know why he decided to make you ride with him up front and then remain entirely silent.

He caught your eye after checking the distance between you both and the rest of the caravan behind you.

"Y/n?" He makes sure your attention was on him, though still keeping his voice low. It was with the usual gruff and commanding tone he used with you.

"What is it?" You respond, clicking your horse on as to keep pace with Arthurs.

"I'm glad you tagged along with us on the fishing trip with Jack." Arthur commented with an unusual sincerity that was infected with a slight inability to admit such a thing.

"Is that so?" You reply with a shocked and sarcastic look. "Whatever would make you say that?"

"Well, I now know what a terrible fisher lady you are."

"'Fisher lady.'" You repeat with a roll of your eyes and a scoff. Again; there was no way you had been that terrible at it. After all, you had caught two fish. "I cant believe youre still on about that."

"Don't worry," he snickers lowly from beside you, glancing up ahead. "I just didn't want Jack to hear what they had to say. No business of his."

You nodded slowly in agreement. You didn't really know how to take this, as you and Arthur's conversations only consisted of bickering or silly conversations. "Are you trying to say thank you?"

He turned to observe you for a second before he gave himself away with a slight blush. "Yeah. I suppose so."

"That's why you got me to come all the way up here with you? So others wouldn't hear?" You start laughing at him with the disbelief that he was that shy.

He ignored you, not allowing you another look at his face from underneath his hat. "Don't make me regret this."

"You're welcome, Arthur. Jack didn't need to hear it, I agree." You finally granted so he didn't feel too regretful over it. But you still had questions. "So, what did they say? I assume they're why we're leaving."

He stayed silent for a few moments, thinking about it before he started telling you about it.

The area got warmer and more humid the further down south your little caravan got.

New Hanover was inundate with your former gang members, ones who took kind with a reunion, though not one that left you alive.

It was a relief to stray further away from such circumstances, watching the land you got so familiar with, become less familiar. Yet, with the removal of one threat came another. One you've heard of before.

The Leymone raiders.

They won't enjoy another gang on their turf, but hopefully, you wouldn't be meeting with them anytime soon.

Arthur and Charles had gone through to Dewberry Creek, the spot Micah had recommended. And in a crazy chain of events, found German immigrants - one of which was a hostage, that then led to the point you lot were to be camping in.

It confused you, not helped by the fact Arthur wasn't all that clear with the rundown.

The land around you was a mix of low hills and open grassy areas, old stone fences reclaimed by the Earth and sparse trees. It was only up ahead that you saw a bushy area well with forest, which was where the head of the caravan turned into.

There was a dingy pathway just large enough for a carriage to fit, leading to a meadow-like spot.

Once you caught up to the front, you resisted eye contact with Arthur, who you could feel staring at you. You weren't excited, by ANY means to help set up camp. It hadn't been too terribly long since you got shot. Still hurt like hell.

For once, you minded your own business, hopping off your horse and checking the place out.

It was right by the water, which was perfect. Plus the forest around gave a decent cover, much like the one at Horseshoe Overlook.

You couldn't keep yourself busy with these thoughts. Arthur was shooting you a stare about as strong as what he shot you with upon your first meeting. It was difficult avoiding a returned glare.

Finally, you accidentally slipped up. So slight was your movement before he hooked your eye contact.

He caught your discreet glance and, with near perfect mimicry, put a hand on his hip and posed like he'd taken a lesson on it by Ms. Grimshaw.

Arthur waved his stinky little finger at you, causing a grimace to form on your face with defiance.

He wasted no moments to nod his head slowly with confirmation that he was going to get you over here. He knew you were trying to slip out of it.

You pointed to your arm as a silent retort and to no surprise of your own, he met with a shrug and pointed to his shoulder in comparison.

A conceded sigh blew out of your lips. You dragged your feet over to him, his eyes never leaving you the entire time.

"Don't think I don't see you, Y/n." He sneers while handing you a box, and not until it reached your hands did you realize how heavy it was.

Arthur snickers at you as you correct your posture to hold it. "Well?" You question impatiently, your fingers already aching under the weight.

"What?" He replies just as impatient.

"You want me to just stand here and look at you? Where do I put this?"

He met your eye, studying you when you said that. His brow slowly rose like an on switch for the cogs in his head to turn.

You set the box down, what else was he doing this for than to annoy you?

"I mean, you can look at me, you just have to work for it." Your eyes squinted together at his words, giving him a look so unimpressed he started to chuckle, waving you off and pointing you in a direction. "Over there, Y/n."

Every Time you went to get another various item, Arthur was walking the opposite direction, making sure no doubt that you were staying in line.

Everyone did that. Shooting you stares on occasion to make sure the O'Driscoll was behaving. It comforted you knowing Keiran was in the same boat as you, but he didn't talk too much. Arthur, of course, is the main perpetrator.

You had no idea why he had kept on your ass so hard, he was nowhere near as stuck up with Keiran.

It felt like hours passed when you finally finished helping everyone else, now it was just this last one that Arthur was at.

He wanted you to help him, so you did. Though with much reluctance and not much choice.

As you bent over, fiddling with some boxes, Arthurs hip bumped against yours. It shook you pretty good and almost made you fall over.

"Watch yourself." Came the words from Arthurs mouth. Arthurs mouth?

"What on earth do you mean?" You stood up swiftly and hissed at him in a retort.

There was a slight smirk on his face when his eyes looked down at you with your reaction.

You quickly caught onto his antics. You'd dealt with them too often by now.

"Why out of the two O'Driscolls, do you harass me the most?"

He chuckled something sinister as he shoved a few random things in your hands. "Because I enjoy harassing you the most."

Aside this little caravan no longer complete with horses, he set up random things to make it more comfy, having given you a few items to put around the slowly coming along area.

It was two picture frames along with a few loose pictures. You took it upon yourself to look at them. Who else would?

"Next time you need me to come save you, don't count on it..." you trail off distracted by the prints in front of you.

The first one was a lady in an oval frame that accentuated her soft features. You weren't sure who she was, though she looked not dissimilar to Arthur.

"As long as I avoid riding with you in the first place, I'll be fine."

You ignored the jab at you, mostly because you were distracted by the photos.

He was now turned away from you fiddling with something, so you couldn't compare his face to hers or he'd see you and most likely decide to retrieve these pictures.

The next frame was square and held and an equally beautiful woman. One who didn't share Arthurs features at all. A lady properly acclimated to society by the looks of it.

A pit formed in your stomach at the notion that she wasn't a possible relative to him, but you didn't allow it residency for long. You ignored it instead, quickly moving onto the other ones.

The mugshot of a skinny man with a massive handlebar mustache met your eyes, who also seemingly shared some qualities with Arthur. Who was to say they weren't his parents? You wanted to know.

The second to last one showed Dutch, Hosea and Arthur and the final with Arthur and that lady again. Though he looked a lot younger in both of these, as well as Dutch and Hosea.

You ignored it and immediately went to thinking up ways to tease him about some of the pictures instead.

As you set them down, it finally dawned on you that you had been helping him to set up his area unknowingly all along and that only fuelled your desire to give him a hard time - again.

"Let me see your face." You request in more of a demanding tone than you had intended.

His brows squeeze together while giving you a momentary glance of puzzlement. Ultimately denying your request by turning his face away and keeping it hidden under his hat. "What kind of random question is that?"

"You shy?" You question with a snark. Motioning your hand for him to look up.

He slowly turned his head to you with hesitation, straightening his back out from his bent over position.

Comparing the picture of him and his mom with an obvious back and forth of your eyes, came Arthurs grumpy face forming.

"You weren't supposed to look at them. Just set them down." He was sure to mention as he stood there awkwardly.

You nod slowly with a mischievous grin growing on your face. He noticed it almost immediately, of course. He had gotten way used to your gestures.

Picking up the one where he was younger, his face dimmed when he saw you coming up with words. Words he wouldn't like

He lunged forward trying to grasp it out of your hands but you kept it just out of his reach.

"Give me that." He rasps, his hand flying around trying to grab yours. His other grasping your forearm, pulling it closer to him. Both of you stumbled around until you bumped into the back of his open carriage.

"I don't want to rip it." You declare with a breath. "Plus you gave it to me in the first place.

"And now I want it back." His body was close to yours. His arm still held yours near with a firm grip.

He stared down at you, which gave you a decent look of his face under his hat.

"If I had met you when you were younger, I reckon I wouldn't have taken you serious at all." You giggle, slightly out of breath with the small scuffle that just transpired.

"You've taken me seriously before?" He questions with a raised brow, still grumpy.

You made a face, full of fake contemplation and while you did, you got your forearm free from Arthur's hand with a quick pull.

"Not really, I suppose. You won't do anything to me." You admit, pulling out the card to get a closer look in front of him. "See? You look fresh from the womb here." Pointing down at his face. Young and free of the blemishes, marks, scars and light wrinkles that now painted his face.

He stood over you. Exceptionally close still, looming over you. His eyes made strong contact with yours as you looked back up to him with a smirk. "I wont do anything to you, huh?" He asks with a dark tone that let a small upturn at the corner of his lips slip.

"No." You replied simply with a shake of your head, completely confident in your answer.

He snatched the photo quickly and then pressed your hat down over your eyes before returning to his duties. "We'll see about that, y/n."

You stood there and fixed your hat before giving him a dirty look. "You won't do anything, I've figured that much so far."

Now he set up a bed of sorts. The one he always got to sleep on that did not meet the ground like nearly everyone else's here. It had to be more comfortable than yours.

"I've let you get too comfortable then." He sassed, yet he didnt maintain eye contact. He fiddled with the bed and then got out the mattress.

"I haven't been comfortable at all." You correct with gusto, walking around to where he was with the bed.

"Then I plan to make it worse." He announces plain as day, finalizing some adjustments to his bed.

You thought about it. It was a no brainer.

"How about we make it more comfortable for me instead." You suggest as you inch closer to him.

He turned his head to give you a glance. Arthur's eyes widened in frustration as you crashed down onto his bed and made yourself comfortable.

You gave him a quick peek and kicked off your boots to show him you weren't going anywhere.

"Y/n." His voice carried the usual demanding tone he always reverted to. "If you don't remove yourself, I'll move you myself."

"Ah ah." You correct with a side to side of your pointer finger. "You never paid me that five dollars for when I let you sleep with me."

He whipped his head around when you reminded him of that, eyes as wide as saucers. You knew what you said. You knew you could've articulated it better, but his reaction was well worth it.

"Be quiet with that, woman." He scolded with a harsh whisper. "I still think that's a scam." He moves closer to you and suddenly slides you over with his bum on the bed.

You tried pushing him off with a grunt but the man was too heavy. "What are you doing? We can't both fit." You groan in between breaths of struggling to get him off.

He tossed his hat off to the side as to avoid it getting crushed and then proceeded to lay right on top of you.

"Arthur -" you hiss out like a deflating balloon. It took everything you had to try to get this big man off of you. "What the hell?"

"You said I could sleep as long as it wasnt on you," Arthur references while trying to make himself comfortable over you. "What are you gonna do about it if it is on you?"

Grumbling something under him, you give up on trying to bench press him off. You aim for his side and start jabbing at him which made him jerk in reaction with a sharp gasp.

You start chuckling as you tickle him. This big brute of a man unable to catch your hands that poked his sides. "How, out of all the nastiest outlaws, are you ticklish?"

"I'm not." He growls as he flips over and finally pins your hands above your head on the mattress, bringing an end to your madness.

His face was close to yours as he held your wrists in one hand. "Five for sleeping with you, hm?"

Your brows shot up and your initial confident playfulness turned into nervous butterflies that fluttered in your stomach.

---

Hi guys.. 😭😭 quick note

I apologize, seeing as I havent uploaded for almost two months! I started school & just havent had as much time anymore to write.

With that being said; I dont really feel like this story is going anywhere - BUT DONT FRET. I'm not discontinuing it or anything.

Most of these chapters revolve around random scenarios with a little sprinkle of plot line 😬 and so, Im not sure what you guys would prefer..

I know its my fanfic & Im suppose to do what I want with it, but at the same time I dont want ya'll feeling like its just dragging on or taking a turn for the worse. At this point its just y/n's miscellaneous adventures with Arthur until it leads to some stinky ass smutt. (😼)

Basically, if you want it more plot based chapters, it'll take a bit longer for the next chapter as it takes more time for me to think of a good way to put y/n into the actual plot and change things up a bit.

Whereas scenario based with plot here & there I can deliver faster since I usually come up with random scenarios all the time anyway.

Would love to hear what you guys think :)

-M ♡

P.S. I started this before I actually had the game, so I WROTE ABOUT THE LEMOYNE RAIDERS IN VALENTINE?!??! Im going to rewrite that just pretend it didnt happen pls 🥰

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption arthur #red dead redemption two #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #red dead fanfic #enemies to lovers #lemon fanfic

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leviathans-watching · 2 years

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HI PRETTY!! i was wondering if you could write an imagine for the brothers of an mc who is all bundled up, cheeks red, mittens on, etc, when its snowing and the brothers finding it cute? i literally cannot wait for winter oml summer is so mid

the brothers seeing mc all bundled up for the cold

includes: the brothers x/& gn!reader (no pronouns mentioned)

wc: .6k | rated g | m.list

a/n: hello!! i'm not a huge winter fan but i did my best so i hope you enjoy! my inbox is open to chat, leave feedback, or req so come say hi

please reblog <333

➳ lucifer watches as you pull on another layer, wrapping a scarf around your neck until it covers half of your face. “are you sure you need all of those layers?” he asks, and you shoot him a glare. the effect is somewhat diminished by the thick hat pulled low over your forehead and he resists the urge to smile. “yes,” you say, exasperated, words muffled by the aforementioned scarf, “i don’t think me becoming a human popsicle would reflect well on the exchange program.”

➳ mammon doesn’t understand how your teeth are chattering. it’s not even that cold! “to you, maybe,” you mutter, shaking another pack of hand warmers, “but humans aren’t meant to be exposed to the frickin’ elements for that long.” mammon laughs, tugging you close to his side, a feat considering the large, puffy coat you’re wearing. “don’t worry,” he says, “i’ll cuddle you when we get back, get you all nice and toasty.”

➳ levi surreptitiously takes a photo of you, inwardly squealing at your cuteness. you had dragged him out to play in the snow, something he’d never done before, and your excitement was infectious. “isn’t this great?” you ask, breath fogging into the air. “the cold air makes me feel alive!” levi grins at you, watching snowflakes drift onto your shoulders. “i’m glad you’re having fun,” he says. “winter might be my new favorite season.”

➳ satan looks at your pleading face. “what do you want?” he asks, sighing. you crack a rueful smile, gesturing down at yourself. “i can’t put my boots on,” you explain. “my snow pants are in the way.” satan raises a brow. “so you want me to do it?” you nod, and he sighs again, before kneeling down to help you. you giggle the whole time, but he can’t find it within himself to be too out of sorts, as the slight of you all bundled up is one that’s going to stay with him for a while.

➳ asmo can barely see you under all of the winter gear you’ve put yourself in, and he knows there are several more layers of sweaters and long-sleeved shirts beneath your coat. “that ensemble is so not cute,” he sighs, looking you up and down. “couldn’t you have at least gotten a matching set?” “no way,” you laugh. “i needed the thickest stuff they had which meant buying independent pieces. i’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to live with it if you don’t want me to freeze!” asmo tilts his head to the side, considering. “ugh, fine. i guess it’s not too bad,” he finally admits, “but that's only because it’s on you.”

➳ beel watches you blow on your hands, rubbing them together to stimulate blood flow. “are you alright?” he asks, and you sigh. “i forgot my gloves at the house. feel how cold my hands are!” you thrust your hand out at him, and beel grabs it, jolting at the sensation. you’re much colder to the touch than you normally are. “that won’t do,” he says, “come over here and put your hand in my pocket.” you do as he says and he covers your hand with his, already planning on switching sides in a few minutes to do your other hand.

➳ belphie groans at the feeling of cold wind on your cheeks, but your eyes are bright. “this is so fun!” you exclaim, trying to adjust the earmuffs covering your ears. your mittens get in the way and after watching you struggle for a few moments belphie wordlessly steps forward and moves them back into place, reviving a bright smile in return. “the cold sucks,” he says, and you laugh. “don’t be like that. we can go in and wrap ourselves in blankets soon.”

leviathans-watching's work - please do not copy, repost, or claim as your won

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sulumuns-dootah · 4 months

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23.12. Leraye - Snowman

༺☆༻

⟡ Masterlist ⟡

₊˚⊹.* The Yule festival of Hell *.⊹˚₊

༺☆༻

“But it's so cold!” Leraye pouts while on your walk into the snowy landscape outside of town. You haven't been outside for more than ten minutes, but he's already complaining.

“I told you to put on more layers and especially a hat. I can see your ears are painfully red.” you stop treading through the snow and sigh.

“But then I would have to take the teddy bear off!” the devoted demon whines and kicks his feet in the snow like a disappointed toddler.

“I did buy you earmuffs.”

“What if a storm comes? I can't hear good in them and I could miss all the thunder!” at this point he's fully throwing a fit.

You hate when he gets like this. To stop yourself from saying something you might regret later, you try to focus on something else. The snow looks so undisturbed it makes you want to disrupt its state. You yourself wonder where this impulse came from.

Reaching down into the cold white, you gather up a small amount and form a snowball. Could this be the solution to Leraye's tantrum? No, it would most likely make it worse. So you keep piling the snow around you into a bigger and bigger ball.

“W-What are you doing, Y/N?” Leraye shivers from the coldness gnawing at his body.

“I uh... A snowman...” you quickly think of a response, realising that the now much larger ball would make and amazing base for one.

“Oh... Oh! Can we make cute one so that His Majesty Satan can tear its head off?” the now frozen demon perks up with the idea of his beloved king destroying his creation just like the many teddy bears he wears on his normal outfit.

“No, but we can make one to keep it cute.” you roll your eyes. The idea of getting drenched in freezing snow only for your work to be destroyed in the end doesn't sound appealing at all.

“Aw, okay. But can we still make it in the shape of a teddy bear?” he pout for a while, but then perks up again.

“Sure. If the snow will stick enough, we can try it.” you start flattening out the top of the now even bigger ball in front of you to make a better surface for another ball of slightly smaller shape.

“I think I'm starting to see why you pulled me out here! This will be fun!” Leraye exclaims and starts gathering up snow into his hands to add to your growing snowball.

༺☆༻

But wait, this demon also has a gift for you!

"Look what I've found! Wouldn't it be exciting to set it up outside during storm?"

#what in hell is bad #what in “hell” is bad?#whb leraye #the yule festival of hell

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the-mushroom-faerie · 5 months

Text

explaining my selective situational mutism

disclaimer - I'm not a professional, this is not how everyone's mutism works, this is just to explain my own experiences

for me, there are layers and also exceptions. there are people I can talk to most of the time, there are people I can't talk to even when I'm calm. it mostly breaks down into five categories

1. trust. if I trust you, I can talk to you most times. in a full shutdown, i can't talk to anybody no matter how hard I try unless the consequences of not talking are scarier than whatever I'm upset about (i.e. I'm the only one who caught the nurse about to give me something I'm allergic to on accident). if I don't trust you, my level of calm has nothing to do with me not talking to you.

2. energy levels. it is extremely exhausting to talk, especially to talk loud enough to be heard by most. that's why I don't like repeating myself - it's not that I have anything against you for not hearing/processing what I just said, it's that I feel like I just sprinted 30 paces because I said two sentences. so if you need me to repeat, I'll either type it up in a text to you or it's just not important enough to waste any more energy you don't need to worry about what I just said who cares lol

3. people not listening/putting words in my mouth. back up to the energy thing, it really bothers me when people don't listen to me or twist what I say because I just spent a lot of precious energy saying something and you took that and turned it into something that was the opposite of what I said so I DO have to repeat myself, louder and with a defensive tone, because I don't want to be known to have said that. if there's someone I know won't listen I don't bother talking

4. medical. I have a lot of "white coat anxiety" which means I can't talk to a lot of doctors. I try, and I can't like there's a wall there. it sucks especially since I go to a lot of doctors who kinda need me to tell them what's wrong with me

5. speed of my thoughts. a lot of the time, my thoughts are going much faster than my mouth can track, which leads to a lot of stuttering and flipped words and even saying the wrong word and sometimes I have to just take a minute to breathe and catch up. its honestly embarrassing because I've internalized it to make myself feel like when that happens I don't seem as intelligent as I am. which likely isn't true but that tied with another speech impediment that makes a lot of "bigger words" difficult to pronounce makes it pretty easy to believe

that's all I can think of for right now, but it's hardly all of it

#selective mutism #situational mutism #mutism awareness #speech impediment #not my usual post but i felt the need to share

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peaktora · 1 year

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𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐗 ˚◞♡ ⃗ aki hayakawa

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ a day off is all you two needed. a day away from denji and power, a day away from the troubles of the world and it’s future. and today, was that day.

𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩 ┊0.8k words. cursing. an unbelievable amount of fluff. implied suggestive themes. no pronouns used or specified gender.

a/n. — i think i put a lil too much filler for the beginning but i was told it's fine, first time writing for my fav 🫶🏽🫶🏽 !!

used a prompt from the best : @creativepromptfills

through the open window, the night is filled with city lights, gorgeous smiles, and laughter that reaches aki's light, icy ears. it's one of those evenings when he's content inside his four walls, and the wind feels soft, almost ticklish, on his skin. the rest of the world, all of his worries, were gone. as his brain started to lose consciousness, his eyes got heavy.

and though, while preferring to stay up to savor the moment, he allowed himself permission to sleep.

because being a devil hunter required a lot of effort. it takes a toll on your body, both mentally and physically. prioritizing the lives of citizens before your own wasn’t an easy task either. hell, he had just as much of a purpose and need to return home as they did.

occasionally, he wished that everyone was a devil hunter so they could all survive on their own. yet, he’s aware that only insane people would take the initiative to approach such monsters. and they have great reason to.

death was a constant threat in that line of work, and you never knew when it would be your last. the missions became more difficult, and he sometimes had to lie to you about how dangerous they would be (though he would never admit it).

but, that’s a rare occasion.

he told you anything without any hesitation, fulfilling your requests for trust. moreover, he fulfilled your request for him to spend time with you and be there for you when he could.

you valued quality time as much as he did, and after two months of nonstop work, he finally got a day off.

a blinding light pierced the door's thin crack, luring him out of his trance. he forced himself to open one eye and look back at the light and its source with a soft grumble.

"are you really this grumpy 24/7?" your voice comes from the doorframe.

there you were, carrying two cups of hot chocolate.

he shifted to sit up against the bedframe, "i'm not grumpy, just sleepy.”

"but for you," you spoke as you approached your boyfriend, "that’ll turn into a deep deep sleep." after placing the two glasses on your nightstand, you sat down next to aki.

“marshmallows, your favorite.”

he replied with actions, ignoring your implication. he stretched his body and grabbed your waist. you laughed as he slid you back into him, spooning you. "my personal favorite."

"I wanna drink my hot chocolate, 'ki." you whine, while aki presses his face deeper into your neck. you try to push him away from your body, but he's set on keeping you there, and he’s doing a hell of a job at it.

you let go and let your body relax, leaving a mark on the black sheet. your fingertips land on his, tracing all skin-layered areas.

over the years, he had softened. even the little laugh wrinkles he had developed could be seen, and the rigid lines in his face were more relaxed. each time you cast a glance at him, you found him to be even more attractive. you couldn't understand why he would choose a job that would tarnish that beauty.

the following few minutes of silence were reassuring. it wasn't awkward; rather, it provided the quality time you two needed after a difficult few months of work.

but, it was time to break it.

no matter how many times aki complains about how much he absolutely hates your pointless games, you continue to play them.

“you like what you see?” you inquired. thinking of whether or not to continue your mission.

his fingers slightly stiffened up.

"always do," he mumbled, pushing his body dangerously close to yours.

was he wearing the clothes you washed yesterday? he had the aroma of newly washed clothes, and the scent of dryer sheets lingered in the air.

"good because I put a lot of effort into placing those marshmallows in a perfect heart," you broke free from his cage, "and I think they sunk in at this point."

you didn't look back when you sat up, but when you did, his "glare" fluttered your heart instead of piercing it. his eyelids were visibly heavy, and small bags were beginning to form.

“you know, the faster you drink this, the faster you get cuddles again.”

he then slowly sat up, offering out his hand. the cup was warmed by you when you slid it into his icy hands.

when he took a sip, you couldn't help but notice how aki's eyes brightened as the liquid moved down his throat and how they lingered on the cup after he put it down. “this is good for using a chocolate box. you chose well."

"well, I also chose you, so I'm really great at this." you replied, taking a sip of your own.

and you couldn't help but feel the same as the same hot liquid passed down your throat.

fuck, did you love these type of nights.

#(っˆ ³(ˊ ᵕ ˋก ) ⇢ ˗ˏˋ 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 ࿐ྂ #old writing #csm x reader #aki x reader #csm fluff #chainsawman x reader #aki fluff #chainsawman fluff #aki hayakawa #hayakawa aki #chainsawman #csm aki #aki x you #csm

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definitelynotafurinasimp · 1 year

Text

Winter Wonderland

summary: small, winter-related scenarios

characters: Fischl/Jean x gn!reader (separate)

warnings: none, just fluff

a/n: It's not much, but I wanted to write something so that I don't end up completely rusty when I'm done with my "Hiatus".

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Fischl

It wasn’t every day that you’d get to see the “Prinzessin der Verurteilung” dressed in anything other than her asymmetrical attire, so when you arrived at your meeting place, only to lay your eyes on a figure wrapped in what seemed to be a million layers of clothing, the single thing making it even somewhat possible to figure out its identity being the blonde hair, you couldn’t help but crack a smile.

“Excuse my remark, your highness, but are you certain you didn’t perchance put on one too many layers of clothing?”, you asked, your tone unusually teasing, causing the princess to slightly pull down her scarf so she could speak without accidentally taking it into her mouth.

“There is never such a thing as putting on too many clothes in Winter. It is the most cruel of seasons, after all, my loyal retainer”, she was quick to respond, only to send a half glare at her flying companion the moment she noticed his beak open, causing the bird to fly to a safe distance before continuing.

“Perfectly put, my majesty. Although you make it sound as if you weren’t dismayed when your mother told you the same thing and wrapped you in your current attire”, the raven snarked, obviously being just as amused by the sight at you were, being quick to fly away a bit further when the girl rebuffed him for his comments and tried to close the distance between them.

“Enough with this, you two. This is no way to treat royalty”, Fischl demanded, causing you to switch to the best poker face you had in store, only for the red faced princess to turn towards you and give you yet another small glare.

“Might I offer your highness something in exchange for her forgiveness?”

While it was as obvious of a bribe as possible, it succeeded as the Prinzessin der Verurteilung eventually gave you a nod before listing her surprisingly lax demands, consisting of nothing but a cup of hot chocolate, something you were quick to agree to before the two of you finally set out to do what you originally planned to do.

Jean

While the Acting Grandmaster was about the last person to think about staying at home just because she didn’t feel like going outside in the cold Winter weather, you had somehow managed to sell her the idea of doing her paperwork from home. It had a lot of upsides, you argued. It was much warmer than her office, she saved time she’d usually spend on travelling from her home to work and back and she didn’t have to worry about anyone interrupting her.

The Gunnhildr found it hard to figure out if she was a lot more receptive towards your idea because it was what she wanted to do deep down, or if you were just great at convincing her, but either way she found herself accepting your proposal, deciding to work on her papers from home, only for it to slowly dawn on her that she had fallen into your trap.

Just as Jean walked through the living room, being on her was back to working on her remaining documents, not wanting to get too comfortable during the small break you had urged her to take, her eyes landed on you, sitting on the couch while being wrapped in a comfortable looking blanket and staring at the lit fireplace, stopping in her tracks the moment you looked over to her.

“Oh, already on your way back to work? Come and join me for a few minutes first, it’s really comfortable”, you offered with a smile, only for Jean to consider it for a second before slightly shaking her head but not walking away.

“I’m sorry, but I’m afraid it would be a bit too comfortable for me to return to work afterwards”, she sighed.

“Fine, but I highly recommend you try it afterwards, I found it to be a great stress reliever, so I’m sure it will make it a lot easier to help you work in peace”, you responded before wrapping the blanket around you a little bit more.

And while Jean knew too well that all of it was a plan to convince her to give in to the prospects of relief once again, she had to admit that it was working all too well, causing her to let out a small sigh.

“Would it be fine for me to join y-”, she didn’t even have time to finish before you already made space for her and raised the blanket, all the while giving her a big smile.

However as she took a seat next to you, and quickly realised you certainly weren’t lying about how comfortable it was, Jean found herself spending much more time relaxing than she planned on. Of course, she would eventually end her break and return to work, but five more minutes wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Please consider liking & reblogging if you enjoyed reading

#fischl #fischl x reader #fischl x you #fischl x y/n #fischl imagines #jean genshin impact #jean gunnhildr #jean x reader #jean x y/n #jean x you #jean imagines #jean gunnhildr x reader

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masterqwertster · 10 months

Note

Noticing trauma prompt #11. This one is just lighting up for Ashton with his chronic pain. So Bell's Hells letting their punk rock know much they care about him by helping to relieve his pain. Maybe using massage, heat, acupuncture, or something interesting with magic? Get creative it's D&D world after all.

11 "I can't make the pain go away. But I can at least try to make it more bearable for you." You know... I thought about this, and then realized I kind of already wrote it. There's two little stories to this flavor in my Ashton Character Study collection Rockin' It: Pain Yet Strength, and, to a lesser degree, Oil Can Do. So I think I'll fill this using one of my AU set-ups: Bells Hells C2 Class Swap. (Yes, I may/will write AU snippets. No, I'm not buckling down for more dedicated writing-out of any more of them currently. They are up for adoption though, if anyone's interested) Prompt

Ashton comes out of their elemental form, only to be bowled over by the feeling of wrong wrong wrong.

Fuck.

Somehow, despite how often he's used the elemental form since joining this group, he's managed to avoid one of these episodes. But the bill always comes fucking due.

They feel too big for their own skin, like there's not enough room to simply be. It tumbles into a driving need to shift, to let their form occupy a greater space to banish that uncomfortable tightness.

But Ashton knows that won't alleviate the feeling at all.

Whatever that fucking potion was, whatever it fucking did to him that allows him to take on that elemental form and add fucking magic to his attacks in exchange for fucking nasty headaches, it goes deeper, bigger. And he's only caught glimpses of that unknown immensity in hyper-realistic dreams. Is only subjected to the feeling of it in these fucking random episodes after reverting from elemental back to plain old genasi.

"Ashton?"

It's hard to drag their focus outward, away from the too tightly coiled shifting inside. Thankfully, Fresh Cut Grass is short and in their space, putting him perfectly in view of their hanging head as he gently tightens their shoulder straps to restore their vest to its smaller fit.

They manage a low grunt (too low, too rocky. fuck) and fumble for the cross-body straps with the hand that isn't holding them steady against the wall.

Letters gently bats his hand away, taking over that too. They're speaking as they work, but it's not directed at Ashton, so he can't really get himself to parse the words past the pounding in his head and body, the rush of blood and heavy pants echoing in his ears.

There's a vague awareness of more voices drawing closer (the instinct to lash out, he needs space. But also the possessive need for all of his people to be in easy reach). A notion of being gently guided by Letters with the rest of the group acting as a screen against the world. Then there's a bed that creaks and groans (not his bed) from his weight, but is soft enough and has a pillow he can bury his face in.

Ashton?

They groan and curl tighter on the bed. There is no room for Imogen to squeeze into their mind. There's not enough room for them in there by themself. Can't she tell?

Feels kind of opposite to that to me, Imogen's mind whispers into their own, pushing a feeling of sympathetic comfort. You've got too much space and you're hyperaware of it right now.

Well that's fucking new. What the fuck-?

A tremor runs through him and he has to concentrate on not shifting. Which isn't as successful as he'd like, given the creak of leather and the bed. Fucking fuck-!

Magic washes over Ashton, layering him in calm that tastes of lightning and metal. And fuck if it doesn't clear some space for him to think.

"Did that help?" comes the stereo question in twin accents but different tones and slightly off-beat.

"Yeah," Ashton croaks out, shifting so his good eye has a view of the room instead of the pillow. "Can think a bit now."

"Great!" FCG chirps. "You've got a minute to tell us how we can help make it stop, or at least make it easier on you. We're a bit tapped for magic to give you a second dose."

Ashton can see the ring of expectant faces spaced around the bed in an inn room that they've brought him to. Faces filled with concern and sympathy. None of them are rousing his hate of pity. How the fuck did that happen?

"Ashton, you need to focus, darling," Laudna sing-songs, gently poking an arm with her staff as she crouches down to be eye-level with them. "The clock's ticking."

She's right. They take a precious second to breathe and gather their thoughts.

"There's not much more to do," Ashton tiredly explains. "You've already brought me to a quiet space without distractions. All that's really left is to wait it out. Hope I don't shift and crush the fucking bed."

"Eh. We can afford to replace a bed," Chetney dismisses with a wave of his hand.

"That's it?" Orym asks, a little incredulous.

"I don't- It just happens then goes away after a while. Might all be in my fucking head for all I know," Ashton says with a sigh.

The little wizard frowns. "It's definitely not just in your head, Ash. The magic you do has a very particular flavor to it, and right now this room is filled with it."

"Cool. I don't know what the fuck to do with that," Ashton grumbles.

"I... could try a Dispel Magic?" Orym offers. "I'll need a while to marshal some magic to cast it. But it might help?"

"Oh, if it's things we can do with a bit of rest, I could cast Darkness or Silence, if you think that would help," Laudna offers, sinking into a meditative position on the ground.

"...Knock yourselves out, I fucking guess," Ashton permits, kind of bewildered by how much this crew is trying. "Uh, silence is probably more helpful. I can close my eyes for darkness."

As Laudna nods, Imogen and Fresh Cut Grass's spell unravels. The bubble of artificial calm bursts, letting back in the pain and worry and disconcerted feelings.

Yet through the haze he's aware of the other people in the room, how they don't leave. And that's a comfort he never asked for.

I suppose this is exploring the "elementals aren't going to be subject to feral episodes due to lunar cycles like actual werewolves." So instead this dunamancy/elemental "lycan" blood hunter Ashton gets to deal with the very specific alternate reality feedback of "titan unearthed in tiny mortal body." Like, that possibility is always there, but it's only felt during these episodes. And the cycle Ashton's failing to track is that he's used all four of his different Dunamantic Rites at least once since his last episode.

#MQ&A #MQfic #MQ AU machine #bells hells c2 class swap au #critical role #ashton greymoore #bells hells #noticing trauma prompt

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antheiantics · 2 years

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I just finished If We Were Villians by M.L.Rio and I have to vent

First, I am heartbroken. At the same time I feel healed and nurtured. I'm supposed to be sad, its over, but I also know the story has a continuation I'm not allowed to experience. It pisses me off, but I can't find the strength to be mad either.

The characters... Fuck these characters. They were all so multi-layered and fucking relatable, all of them, in different aspects.

Honestly I just added the book to my TBR because I liked the title. I found it in a site around 10 months ago and it said it was signed by the author. I had no idea who M.L.Rio(I thought she was a man) was, but there was something in this book that just drew me in so I purchased and ordered it. It came. I was enamored with it, but being my slumpish bibliophile self, I just put it in a center place of my bookshelf, not quite ready to read it yet. Almost a month before now, I struggled to pick books for my summer vacation and without so much as a passing thought, I grabbed IWWV and realized what I had done, when I was already on my vacation. I started it two days ago and finished it no more than 20 minutes ago. Brilliant. Fed my dark academia obsession to fulfilment. Fed my heart and my brain with the gruesome images and portrayals of human nature. Helped me recover from my book hangover after The Captive Prince Trilogy.

The funny thing is it's not quite the same as emotional intensity as what a reader might get from another good book. There's some lingering feeling of both disappointment and anger rather than joy of fulfillment. It ended both happily and tragically. The characters all suffered in their own way, some overcame it, other were still in the process of it by the time one reaches the epilogue and others... Well, they might suffer until the end of their lives. Oh, who am I lying to? They were all fucked up. Will die fucked up. That's the truth of it and I am trying to soften it, but I can't.

Spoilers from down here, read at your own risk

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Let's start with Richard:

GODS, I HATED HIM SO MUCH. But he was endearing. Endearing in some twisted freakish way. He was a narcissist to the core, openly boasting about himself as if he needed to showcase his power even though everyone knew just how talented and beautiful he was. He is one of those characters you hate to love. His death felt deserved, it was the only way to soothe his aggression towards everyone. He was... A lot to take. Not only he intimidated the space of the book, but also the mind of the reader. He might have been the antagonist of some sort but I caught myself (back when he was still alive) wondering "Where is Richard?" whenever the group assembled. Whether we as readers liked it or not, Richard was important. Not as much as he himself thought he was, but he was indeed an indispensable part of the narration, of the school, of the gang. Him constantly appearing as a ghost through the eyes of Oliver after his real death, much like his role in Caesar was a magnificent parallel. Even in death he will forever haunt them, remind them what they didn't do and how much to blame they are for everything that happened as much as he is. Still, can't figure out if he is the tragic hero or tragic villain in the story. Before his death I would have said the latter, but as the book progresses, I fail to commit to one definition of Richard and I think its best if I never do, actually. I would rather see him as the dictator, gotten drunk on his own power and fallen off the pedestal he had single-handedly built for himself. I can go on for days. The one that died first turned out to have much deeper significance than what I had anticipated.

Oliver:

Such. A. Sweetheart.

So cute, so kind, so thoughtful, so naive, so confused and...

So so so fucked up.

I had a moment during reading when I thought he was the villain all along and that there would be a major plot twist, saying he rightfully took the blame and had decieved the readers with his thorough retelling of the story. But, no. He started being and ended being the sweetest of them all.

The only thing that pissed me off was him (and James for that matter) being so queer for each other and never acknowledging it (until the end of the book that is) From the first scene with them together, I knew. You would have to be blind not to know. It was obvious. And yet they didn't admit it, didn't want to. Not for some "OH, shit I'm gay but I want to be straight" reason, no. I'm sure they were both afraid to lose each other if they so much as admitted what they felt. I hope that they both enjoy that lost time now. They deserve it.

Meredith:

It's safe to say I hated her more than Richard but I also loved her more than him. She was right to want him dead, they all were, but she was the one that was in a relationship with this major aggressor.

She is so insecure, so smashed by all that attention she got throughout the whole book. There was a moment where I wondered if she would kill herself, but she's a tough bitch and I respect that in her.

She deserved better than this. Both as a person and as an actress.

I didn't like her most of the time. How she clung to Richard and then how she clung to Oliver and every other boy between that. She treated herself as a rag and wondered why everyone else were doing the same. She blamed it on the fact, she was treated like that from the start, but she let it be that way. Had she not been so insecure of her talent and self things would have turned out differently, I suppose.

Philippa/Pip:

A QUEEN.

She's me and I am she in terms of friendship. She's always there, always ready to help, always ready for everything, even murder.

Pip is also honest, unapologetically real.

I have not much to say about her as I am fully convinced that she, Oliver and James were my favorite characters and when a favorite character is in the equation my brain is like "Nope, just scream it out, they'll understand so-"

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKSKSNDNENDNDNDNDJDJDJDNENBEBDJDJDJDKJEND

I would have liked her to be more goal-oriented and determined to get what she deserved, but I suppose the plot wouldn't have developed the way it did.

Her and Camilo. Muah. Chef's Kiss. Didn't expect it, but I should have from the moment I read she called him Milo.

Wren:

Well, I don't have much to say about her except that she was sweet as fuck and the whole book fucked up a perfectly acceptable Tinkerbell character and made her broken puff of feathers and spilled ink. A waste of potential, in some ways. She's the typical gentle character that couldn't take the pressure of, anything, now that I think about it.

I liked her, but not quite. She was lovable but too innocent and good for me. She got fucked up by all those prematurely fucked up characters and she deserved better.

Alexander:

A mood. Hands down the biggest mood in the whole book. Save for the drug overdose he was an absolute icon, slaying through the plot like no other. I waited patiently for all of his appearances and none disappointed. He may think that Caesar was what fucked them up but I don't think so. As Philippa said, they were all more or less fucked up before Dellecher.

I was sad not to find out how it went between him and Collin because the boy did seem to care for him even though, Alexander didn't appear to think much further than sex 90% of the time. Such a diva.

James:

Now, now. He's my boy. No touchy touchy.

Beautiful.

Gorgeous.

A brilliant ice cube melting and becoming a blue fire on the stage. That's what he is. He felt double natured. He felt like the sparrow. There was this idea of him being unapproachable and distant even when he was with his friends. That's what made him so well suited for Oliver, because Oliver just KNEW him. He just knew that underneath this cold beautiful exterior lay a sweet boy who just wanted to do what he loved and he wanted to be the best in it,but his life got fucked up enough for him to break completely.

No one actually managed to underatand him except Oliver and Philippa. This is partly why those two are in my top 3. They knew James. Oliver knew him because he loved him and Philippa straight up knew every single one of them, how they operated and how they felt but she didn't think it was her place to say or meddle.

James didn't love Wren. I believed it for a couple of chapters but it just didn't add up. He loved her like a sister but pretend to love her as something more just because he wanted to escape the thoughts of Oliver.

I knew he was the one that hurt (he didn't kill him, they all did) Richard. The way he panicked and wanted to help when he saw Richard moving and how desperate he was to help. Because he was sorry and because he was terrified. I saw him for the real person he was at that moment. I saw the gears twisting and turning in his head as he was always thinking.

He's alive. That's what I like to believe. I'd like to also believe that he and Oliver got together at last when Oliver found him or if not, I'd be happy to just know that James is alive and well.

This book is a major 10/10 for me. I'm still not over the fact that it's over, I haven't processed it. I don't feel empty, but I feel spent and more accepting of what's to come. Let be.

My love for Shakespeare is fueled even more now. I'm off to read some classics before I decide if I want to continue with other books or let this one just... Sink in.

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andswarwrites · 8 months

Text

Detail-oriented gratitude

I have a sweater whose praises I simply have to sing. I found it in a thrift store years ago; it is black, silky soft cotton and gigantically oversize. It drapes around my body like a dress, the sleeves extend past my fingers but they can easily be rolled up to my elbows when I work. I only wear it at home, but it serves a specific purpose which I shall now share. At times one of the symptoms my body puts me through is to have a sensation of arid heat all over me. When that happens, most fabrics feel like sand paper, including the softest of flannel sheets. If I'm enduring this soreness and feeling of being on fire at bedtime, and for some reason it always seems to start in the evening, I have to extend one arm out from under the covers to regulate temperature, but that arm, if bare, starts to feel cold in a matter of seconds.

That's where my sweater comes in. I have it hanging on a hook next to my bed, and I slip into it on these nights; as soon as that fabric touches skin, it's like I stepped into a glassy lake, cool and refreshing. As I feel the dull ache subside and the heat retreat, I slip in between the sheets and blankets, curl up and leave my arm over the top layer to regulate temperature, and this phenomenal cloak that is cooling me down warms my arm just enough to keep the discomfort at bay and let me fall asleep. It may seem crazy to feel this much appreciation for an old garment that I can't even wear in public, but I think the point I'm trying to make is that sometimes it is a minute detail that improves the quality of our lives, and I feel at times it is necessary to take a moment to feel grateful, not just for the generalizations, like food and shelter and material possessions of all kinds, but something tiny, almost insignificant, but that we truly appreciate. It can be the feeling of curry in our throat when it is sore, it can be the soothing sound of rainfall when we feel pain in our temples. There are so many little things that add to our comfort and well being.

If I hadn't been in that thrift store on that day at that time, if the person who discarded it had just thrown it in the trash, I would never have met my sweater. If I hadn't hung it on the hook, I wouldn't have reached for it at random one day when I was in pain at bedtime and discovered its distinct properties for countering that pain. I also have a tea cup a friend gave me that holds exactly two and a half servings of tea from a teapot another friend gave me. They both know how I feel about hot beverages. I have kitchenware, I have art supplies, I have so many humble things that transform my little apartment into my home. They don't have to be pristine or perfect for me to love them. Usually they were given to me or I stumbled upon them completely by chance. Usually they are useful. I don't have much more of a point to make, this was just a rambling thought. Perhaps we can call it detail-oriented gratitude.

#sweaters #thrifstorefinds #gratitude

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lesbiarmy · 8 months

Text

Sunflowers baby pt.1

Paring:BuckyxBlack!Fem!reader

Warnings:Mild but suggestive language, some cursing here and there,Sexual thoughts??

Genre:Romance

P.s this is my first fanfiction and I know its kinds bad(really bad I would appreciate if you guys told me what you don't like) but bare with me here I've got 3 fanfics in the works right now I was just trying to get one out thanks

Summary:You're rhodes niece working as a nurse at the compound and Bucky has just come back from a mission

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

"Come on get up buck" Steve says trying to pull a stubborn Bucky off the couch.

"You've gotta get those cuts cleaned" Bucky groans in response and sits up pulling Steve's arm off of him

"I'll go god just let me get five minutes"

"Bucky you said that twenty minutes ago get up" Steve says starting to get annoyed

"Fine,Shit" Bucky responds and gets up to head towards the infirmary

He's tired and it shows in his face the last mission was really hard and everybody was exhausted Bucky being the only one to not get checked by one of the nurses

When he gets to the room the in infirmary he sees that the sheets aren't white and the room isn't empty the seats are blue and a girl in headphones is restocking the band aids while humming

He can't see her face but stands there for a moment admiring her happiness

Admittedly its been a while since Bucky has went out to dance

Its actually been a couple months

Maybe he should try and go out

He refocused on what he was here for and walked up behind her to let her know he was here for the checkup

Y/n lost in her music turns around to throw the empty box of band aids out is startled as she walked into a wall of chest unsettling her she quickly takes her headphones off her head and looks at who she walked into

Bucky Barnes or James although he only allows Steve and Natasha to call his James

He's tall intimidating and.... Hot

She has to admit to maybe sometimes after seeing him getting a little turned on

Maybe sometimes she watched him read a book

Or do a mission report and get frustrated

Or workout

Or-

"Excuse me" Bucky says looking down at the girl confused

She was starting up at him with those eyes those dark brown eyes and it was making it hard for him to remember what he was here for

Now he knows who she is

Rhodes niece

She was introduced to everyone right after she graduated from college she was looking for a job and Tony was looking for a new nurse

She agreed to work for him Rhodes being happy she wouldn't have to worry about finding a job she'd been with them for six months

Bucky noticed how she watched him she never said anything but her body language while she did was saying everything he needed to know

"I'm so sorry I really shouldn't be wearing my headphones in here but it was so quiet and I was bored at waiting for the last person which is you.So if your ready could you please sit down" she hurriedly said

Bucky noticing how close they were quickly sat down on the bed in the room and waited

She put on a pair of gloves and turned back around

"So um any concerns anything that really hurts" she could tell that it was pretty much everything but silently waited for his answer

He took a breath, winced and then groaned out "I've got a pretty nasty gash on my side" and pulled one side of his shirt up

She came closer to him and gently touched it

He hissed at the contact and pulled away

The cuts was about thirteen inches long and but not deep maybe a layer of skin but it hasn't been cleaned a bit of dried blood starting to cover it

She turned around to grab what she needed she opened the alcohol pads and unraveled it trying to avoid Bucky's obvious stare

She leant over starting to wipe again at the cut cleansing it

The sent of the alcohol wipes was string but his natural scent was Intoxicating

She finishes quickly not wanting to get lost in your thoughts

Then turns back around and throw the wipe in the garbage moving to grab the Neosporin

But before she can fully lean down Bucky graves her arm

"Can I do it myself" he asks feeling confused she asks why

"It- I just would prefer to do it myself" he responds

She moves to hands him a pair of gloves he puts them on and starts applying the cream

She steps back and lets her eyes rake over his shoulder they look so strong

He could probably lift her up and hold her against the wall while he

"Um,Y/n I'm done"

She stands there for a few moments before asking

"Bucky,where did you get that bracelet?"

He looks down at it

That's the same question half the team asked him it's pink blue and black

Not the colors he would prefer but it was a beautifully made bracelet

He found it outside of his door a week ago

Just a little white box that he took into his room with him

He opened it and a little note fell out all it said was

The colors might not be the best but I really like you and think you deserve one I hope it can fit- Ti :Mr.Barnes From:sunflower :)

He put it on thinking that it was a joke from Peter

But when Peter insisted that he didn't give him the bracket he started becoming suspicious that's when he noticed y/n who always wore those damn sunflower hair clips in her hair just at the side tucked in her braids

"You really do represent a sunflower" he said

Cauaing y/n's eyes to go wide realizing he knew that she was the one who gave him the bracelet

He stood up took his gloves off and dropped them in the garbage but before he left the room he said

"Next time when your watching someone maybe try being a little more discreet"

Before y/n can open her mouth to respond he's out the door leaving her breathless and confused

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This is horrible just you know what don't even say anything

#black reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #bucky x you #james bucky buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #winter soldier #james buchanan barnes

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theoldaeroplane · 10 months

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jouwnaling

had a really, really nice day yesterday, was just in a lovely mood all day. I think it may have been related to the fact I did not get high the night before, so I'm going to try to test that theory and dial my usage down. I really enjoy weed and think it has a lot of benefits, especially for neurodivergent folk, but I'm recognizing that I used it as a way to cope with my situations last year. I'd like to wean myself off it a bit and be more present now that my life is starting to not suck. Still gonna keep it around for fun and really bad ruminating though. Weed makes it so much easier for me to hang out with people in person for a long time, and to go into overstimulating spaces.

Been having tons of fun rotating my version of Link in my brain for Antebellum (the WIP name of my LoZ fic). He has so many problems. He is a dumb motherfucker. I'm also consciously putting a lot of things I've been struggling with into this story, both to process them for myself and to give the fic, you know, that extra layer of authenticity, relatability? It's nice, I'm excited to be excited again. I'm gonna fuck up that elf boy so bad.

Had my second yoga class last night, it was nice. I'm not sure if I can afford to keep going but I'm going to try to. In a way it feels silly to pay for something I could technically do for free at home with a YouTube video, but I think the atmosphere makes a significant enough difference to be worth paying for.

Finally made a vet appointment for the dog. She needs her shots and I can't put off the fact she needs dental surgery any longer.

I really, really need to reopen commissions, but I still feel burned out on art. I'm trying to make some adoptables and YCHs as a middle ground. Haven't had a lot of success there yet. That said, I've been putting a lot of my energy into cleaning up my house and taking care of myself. The house is coming along really well, and hopefully soon I'll have it leveled out enough to make it a nicer space for my creative endeavors.

I applied for another job this week, one totally out of my field and experience: house cleaning. It's not something I'd ever considered, but I found the listing by chance and it occurred to me that a job where I just clean and listen to podcasts sounds like heaven. Especially for my autistic ass. No constant stream of customers. No dress shirts. No repeatedly explaining terms and price sheets. Just show up and clean. I'm sure such a job has its own frustrations (hard on the body, exceptionally gross houses, telling people when something is not in my job description, driving a lot), but, like. My current job---while I genuinely like a lot of the work, and I really love my boss and coworkers---the customer service aspect is killing me, the dress code brings back bad memories, and even though I'm working full time (over full time, even, I'm there 8:30-5 because I take a thirty minute lunch break) I'm not making enough to fully support myself. I keep getting sent home early because there's nothing for me to do, and my boss is only a regional manager and has been very forthcoming with the fact I am already at the absolute highest end of the payscale for my position without taking on more responsibilities.

The fact that I can be working full time and still have to rely on a side hustle, and even THEN can't put anything aside for savings, is awful. I can't do more hours, I can't take on more responsibilities, and I can't get a second job. Any of those things would seriously compromise my mental health and I have to take care of myself. I've always dreaded it when I'm asked to take on more responsibilities at my jobs. I don't want advancement, I don't want to manage anyone (I can barely manage myself!), I don't give a shit what my title is. I want to do my work really well, get paid, and go home.

And the cleaning job, at the absolute lowest end, still pays about 5k more per year than my current position.

So, currently, yeah, housecleaning sounds like a dream job. Show up. Clean. Leave. Repeat. The company in question also has glowing employee reviews on Glassdoor, with the worst things being "could pay better" and "sometimes there's favoritism." I don't have any qualms about """being a maid""" on like a social level or whatever. I like the idea that I would be making a tangible difference for individuals, instead of printing out hundreds of advertising mailers that are going to go directly into the trash. I finding cleaning very satisfying. I like the idea of not sitting around bored because there's no customers and nothing to do and I'm not allowed to have my phone out, and then getting sent home early so I miss out on half my pay for that day. And so much less masking! My god! It sounds like paradise!

The grass is always greener on the other side of the fence, but sometimes that's because it really is better grass.

So. Hoping to hear back about that soon. I filled out a questionnaire thing for them yesterday that seemed like it was basically checking to see if I was a narcissistic sociopath or not. I have a weekend without any Special Events happening for the first time in like a month, just my tabletop games and my volunteer work. My clothes and bedding are all washed, I got most of the dog piss smell out of the carpet from when I was too exhausted to take her out often enough, and I cut my hair. I have a writing project again. I've been making new friends and reconnecting with old ones. I adore going out to the barn every saturday. My therapist says I'm doing really, really well. Everything's coming up Corgi, for now. Fingers crossed :)

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