Nezuko Stuff Novels & Stories

Kenji cursed under his breath, grabbed his car keys, and called Inoue. "Get me connected to Kyoko Fujita, immediately!" * Zabuton: a cushion designed for sitting on tatami

She’d rather have her own name called than listen to her father read the familiar name she somehow knew he was about to pull from that jar. “And now… it is my task to read the name of the sacrifice,” King Zar said. He moved to the clay jar, and pulled off the lid, sitting it aside on the table next to the menacing object. Reaching in a hand, he pulled out a scroll and unrolled it. Nya sucked in a breath and held it.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ Hope Zoey isn't crazy for being stuck with Zeus :'( See you 👋 LOVE ALL❤️

he demanded, leaving Antonia to Marc's care as he led Sasha from the room. "I did. Clothes for them both, weapons, and your grimoire, which, I might add, you could have accessed via your phone." Thaddeus made a face. "I don't like the scanned version. It lacks a certain something." "Yeah, dust mites and paper cuts."

The address he gave was the convenience store at the entrance of the Northon Institute. When the parcel from Nicole arrived that day, it was a black bag with his address and code name hanging on it without the sender's name and address. Zeke complained of it upon receiving the parcel. But after taking the packaging apart, he was speechless. The computer's beautiful silver streamline chassis had conquered his heart, and its speed was so fast that his fingers could barely keep up. That made him fall in love with the machine. But that computer that Nicole gave him a year ago was obviously still much faster than the JW3000, which claimed to be the fastest in the world.

Right now, those orbs are big and shiny with an equal proportion of glee and greed. “Really? You’ll get me three new ones? From Gucci?” “I swear on…” I look around, my gaze latching on the ugliest stuffed toy I’ve ever seen. My nose wrinkles in surprise. I have honestly never set eyes on a stuffed animal this ugly; “Is that… a mangled Winnie the Pooh?” “Yeah.” “Fine. I swear on his life.” “He’s not alive, girl.” Zeya feels the need to point out. I shrug. “I swear on him regardless.”

The furniture was sleek, minimalist obsidian and leather, shouting corporate power. But behind the desk, a massive built-in shelf told a different story. Amidst the industry awards—glass shards and gold statuettes that caught the sun—was a collection that made my gamer heart ache. A mint-condition NES cartridge of The Legend of Zelda in its original gold casing. A prototype controller for the first NeXus console. A framed piece of concept art from Chrono Trigger. It was a museum of our shared history. A physical manifestation of the connection I had tried so hard to deny.