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#because lately I just haven't had it in me
yelenasdiary · 2 days
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WandaNat yelling at each other over their last mission and reader having a ptsd episode (sudden loud noises, combat or abusive ex?)? Maybe reader goes black out for a few hours and wakes up in the forest outside the compound and WandaNat are trying to find her? Super angst to fluff? If thats okay 🤧
Notice Me
Pairing: WandaNat x Fem! Reader
Summary: When your girlfriends get into a heated argument, it triggers an episode for you, leaving the women to find you alone in the woods by the compound. 
Angst, Fluff
Warnings: Mentions of PTSD, Mentions of an Abusive Ex, Hints of Domestic Violence, | 1.3K
Translations: Detka (baby),
AC: Thank you for sending this, I hope I did okay! Please don’t read this if you’re uncomfortable with the mentioned topics. Enjoy! x
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The back-and-forth yelling coming from the hall only seemed to get louder as your girlfriends, Wanda, and Natasha, had just returned from a mission. You were reading a book, completely relaxed, and enjoying the quietness to read when you heard the familiar voices. Wanda opened the door to the shared bedroom, Natasha following close behind her. You looked up from your book and smiled softly at the women, but they didn't seem to have even noticed you laying on the bed in one of Nat's sweaters. 
"What should I have done huh?" Wanda snapped, throwing her coat over the office chair by the desk. 
"Oh, I don't know, maybe wait for your team?!" Natasha argued, "Wands, you have powers that others don't have but that doesn't mean you get to put yourself in a life-or-death situation!" The red head added. Wanda rolled her eyes, "do you really want to talk about life-or-death situations? Because you seem to throw yourself into the line of fire at the first chance you get!" Wanda rose her voice. 
"I'm trained to do so!" Natasha argued back, tossing her bag to the floor. The loud thud of her bag hitting the floor made you jump; she didn't care for her weapons that were inside. 
"Guys" you tried to interrupt before things escalated but it was too late. Wanda's eyes flashed with red chaos before she used her magic to slam the door closed, another loud thud that only drew you closer to an episode. "Guys, please!" You begged over their yelling voices but still, it was like you weren't even there.
The arguing continued until eventually, you couldn't take it anymore. Their tones got stronger, the slamming of things down got louder until everything went black as you left the room. 
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"Wands, have you seen Y/n?" Nat asked when Wanda came out of the bathroom in her comfortable clothing and her hair wrapped in a towel. Wanda shook her head, "I haven't seen her, not even when we got back but then again th-"
"Please don't start now" Natasha sighed, "Nobody has seen Y/n since lunch when she said she was going to come here and wait for us" she added, her tone of voice full of worry. Wanda looked to the bed and saw your opened book on the bed and your empty plate from lunch on the bedside table. She used her magic to take her back to the argument she had hours before with Natasha, "oh god" she spoke under her breath. 
"What?" Natasha asked, "what is it?" 
"We're selfish idiots, that's what! Get your coat, we have to find her" she replied.
Natasha grabbed her coat and met Wanda downstairs. Wanda could see the amount of worry and concern on Natasha's face, she took a moment to give her partner some comfort. "Nat, we'll find her and it'll be okay" she assures the widow but all this is a little too close to home for Nat. 
"I can't lose her" Natasha broke.
"I know darling, we'll find her" Wanda wiped the rolling tear that Natasha had let go.
Wanda asked some of the others to join the search to find you, you didn't take your phone and Natasha noticed you left without your shoes on. Wanda tried her best to use her magic to find you, but something was blocking your mind from allowing her to do so. 
Everybody broke up into small groups of two. Tony and Bruce started by car, driving around the surrounding neighborhood and closest stores. Steve and Thor searched the compound and surrounding areas while Natasha and Wanda searched the woods close by. It was only getting darker by the minute; the cold air began to get cold which only made every bodies worry and concern for your well-being even stronger. 
"Wands! Over here" Natasha called out when she noticed footprints in the softened dirt. Wanda rushed to Nat's side, "this way, come on" Nat added. The two called out your name over and over as they walked deeper and deeper into the darkness of the woods. 
"Nat, maybe we call Steve and get him to fly the jet over" Wanda suggested but Natasha shook her head, "the loudness will only make things worse" she reminded Wanda. 
As the two tried their best to keep track of your footprints in the dirty, they heard the loud crunches of leaves up ahead. Natasha signaled to Wanda to pause their movements in-case it was a wild animal but instead, it was you. Stumbling out of the trees only for Natasha to catch you in her arms as you fell. 
"Y/n! are you okay?" Natasha asked, brushing your hair from your face. Wanda rushed quickly to your side as Nat handed you to her before taking off her coat and instantly covering you in it to warm you up. "E-everything….it….y-ou" you stuttered, "shh, it's okay darling. You're safe now" Wanda pulled you closer to her, placing a kiss on the top of your head as your sobs became clear. 
Wanda used her powers to levitate you back to the compound, not wanting to keep you out in the cold any longer. When Natasha got to your shared room, the two of them forgot about their argument and ran you a warm bath, they bathed you and helped you into your favorite pjs because making sure you were comfortable in bed. 
"Detka, what happened?" Natasha asked in a soft tone. You looked over at her, your eyes filled with tears and mind filled with worry that you might have angered your girlfriends. "It's okay love, you talk to us" Wanda chipped in. 
You took a moment to gather your feelings before you spoke, "You guys didn't even notice I was in here, you both came in yelling and slamming doors and when I tried to get between it, you both just didn't seem to notice me. I hid under the covers to try and drown out the yelling but some of the things you both said to one another just triggered me…" you explained with a pause, "everything just went back after Wanda said 'you know better' in that tone you had" you added, looking over at Wanda. 
Natasha took you into her arms, "I'm so sorry detka, we promise never to let this happen again" she spoke, her hand rubbing up and down on your back. Wanda couldn't shake the terror in your eyes when she held you in the woods, she was quickly reminded of the fear you once had with your ex whom the women saved you from, she never, ever wanted to make you feel like that again. 
"How about I fix us some hot coco and we watch whatever movie you like?" Wanda suggested, wanting to light the mood and help you forget about this afternoon. You looked up at Wanda and nodded, "can I please have double whipped cream?" You asked. Both of your girlfriends chuckled at your request, "is that even a question?" Wanda smiled before leaning over and pecking a soft kiss on your cheek, "anything you want darling" she whispered. 
When Wanda came back with the three mugs of hot coco, the three of you curled up in bed and watched your favorite movie of all time. You were in the middle, Natasha to your left and Wanda to your right, both of them resting their heads on your shoulder. It wasn't long until you started to feel okay once again and the fear from their argument faded away as you drifted off to sleep before the end credits rolled on the screen. Wanda tucked you in and placed a kiss on your forehead before Natasha did the same. 
"Date night tomorrow? I think we could with some time away from work" Wanda whispered, "I couldn't agree more!" Natasha smiled before the two shared a kiss.
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#galarian slowpoke#picture this. this was the first pokémon revealed from the new DLCs for pokémon sword and shield. the pokémon company#up until this point‚ has never done DLC for a pokémon game before. you‚ having been jaded by shitty DLCs for other games in the past#now have a distaste for the phrase‚ and imagine this can't be good. then‚ in their teaser for the new DLC‚ they add a little event#into the game where they reveal one of the new pokémon that is going to be added in the DLC#and it is a galarian form. that is identical to the original pokémon. but with a yellow head#are you imagining it. now how fucking disappointed are you. how little faith do you have in that DLC that it's going to be as good as it wa#for the most part‚ the pokémon company has demonstrated that they do absolutely excellent DLCs. proper expansions#basically an entire other game on top of the game you already have. and they typically take up the release cycle of a full game#scarlet/violet's especially. WONDERFUL dlc. i never really properly finished the crown tundra just because i was so late to the party#because i avoided buying the dlc for so long because of this experience that i've just described to you#that by the time i bought it and played it‚ it was just because SV had been announced and i wanted more pokémon to tide me over#and i never finished it. one of these days‚ i'd like to go back and finish it‚ but i'm playing through pokémon xd gale of darkness right no#and i prefer to play. one game at a time. and i don't know when i'll ever really get back to it#or if i'll ever get back to it! 'cause without resetting my save file all the way i'll just have to Remember what it is that already happen#which i'm. notoriously bad at when it comes to coming back to games that i haven't played in a while#plus i know sv is like shitty performance or whatever but the movement in that game is so much better#it feels so much more freeing than going back to gen 8 where you can still just. run. and that's it#i know nobody likes scarlet/violet but i still. like it. performance aside. like yes the performance is terrible but i still had a great#time with it. i just praised its DLC for fuck's sake! its DLC was fuckin wonderful! it has kieran in it so it like can't be bad
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6ix9inewiturmom · 22 hours
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The Scare- Chris Sturniolo
Summary: you end up having one of the biggest pregnancy scares of your life while chris is in boston
Warnings: Cursing, Crying, use of Y/N, talks of sex, taking a pregnancy test
A/n: may be tmi but lowkey relate to this so this was easy to write LMFAOO, ENJOY
PSA: DO NOT USE MY WORK FOR “inspiration” OR ANYTHING ELSE!!
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Chris has been in Boston for the last 2 weeks, and he's finally coming home. I decided to shower and shave before he came home because that man is the most sexually active 20-year-old I've ever met, the Facetime sex at 3 am for him isn't nearly enough to satisfy both of our needs.
After my hour-long shower, I'm digging through my shared bathroom with Chris in an attempt to find my body lotion to prevent my dry ass skin in this heat when I find my box of tampons, which got me thinking I haven't had a period in a while and Chris and I aren't the safest people when it comes to sex because neither of us can even remember to put a condom on, it always fucks up my mood.
“Shit,” I say to my self.
Chris and I are only 20 and with his career there's no fucking way in HELL we can have a kid or even raise a kid, I am nowhere near ready to raise an actual child.
I open my Flo app and see the little circle that's normally red is grey ‘1 week late’
“Shit shit shit,” I say out loud again, panicking.
I can't keep it from him, he's gonna see the pregnancy test in the trash. Would he be mad if I kept it from him? Should I just tell him? Should I go to Tara?
After about 30 minutes of standing in the bathroom looking at the message in my phone, panicking about what to do, I just decided I was gonna tell Chris, he loves me, and we've talked about having kids way later in life anyway, he couldn't be mad.
I finally built up the courage and got dressed in a pair of tight ripped jeans and a baby tee, with some Converse, and sat on the couch waiting for Chris to come home going through Tiktok and whatever else was on my phone.
“BABY IM HOME” Chris yells from the stairs
I squeal in excitement as I spot Chris and run towards him. Jumping into his arms, he effortlessly lifts me, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist.
“Umm Y/N there are other people here too you know? Also, Chris get out of the fucking way so we can fucking put our shit down” Nick says in annoyance.
“Well hello to you too Nick,” I say jumping out of Chris’ arms moving out of the doorway, and letting Matt and Nick come inside the house.
“Sorry babes, we've all been up since about 6 am Boston time trying to catch our flight we almost missed because your fucking boyfriend wouldn't get the hell out of bed” Nick replies sending me a soft smile and giving me a soft hug.
“To be fair none of us went to bed at a decent time, mom was making sure we had everything packed so we didn't leave anything behind” matt defends.
“Thank you, Matt, now Y/N do you wanna take a nap? I know we were gonna go out to dinner but I'm very fucking jet lagged and kinda just want to order dinner and watch movies with you” Chris wraps his arms around my waist nuzzling his head between my neck as my hands rest on his shoulders.
“Thats fine with me i don't mind” i pull away from his embrace and smile at him.
Chris grabs his luggage and my hand and guides me to our shared bedroom. As we enter the room he seats his luggage down and plops on the bed letting out a groan of frustration.
“I have missed this damn bed, don't ask me how I slept in that bed at my mom's house for god knows how long because this one is so much more comfortable,” Chris says adjusting the way he's laying to rest his head down on the pillows. “Now after 2 weeks of no sex and just my right hand, I'm gonna need to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you” he smirks at me patting his lap and signaling me to sit on it.
“Yeah so about that” give him an awkward smile “So I didn't know how to approach this to you, 'cause you know we're not the most responsible sexually active humans” I start babbling getting nervous of his reaction based on the puzzled look on his face.
“Y/N what the hell are you getting at? cause if you don’t wanna have sex with me right now that’s fine just say that, but considering our last facetime call the constant ‘oh chris i need your cock’ was really misleading to me” he says with a puzzled faced.
“Chris i’m late” i breathe out.
“late for what? did we have reservations for dinner? did you have something for work?” he says with frustration in his voice.
“No Chris my period, I'm late, my period is LATE, I'm 1 week late today,” I say aggressively from his lack of acknowledgement.
“wait we haven’t had sex in 2 weeks? i’m confused” he sits up moving to the edge of the bed.
“last time we had sex i was ovulating, remember when i told you like a while ago that if im ovulating means im FERTILE?” i say in frustration.
“Fuck” he runs his fingers through his hair “Did you take a test? Do you know for sure that you are pregnant?” he questions
“No, and no, I didn't wanna take a test without you, and I for SURE didn't wanna hide it from you,” I say softly sitting next to him on the bed.
“So why the hell are you freaking out now? You don't know for sure that you are” he asks placing his head in his hands.
“Because you and I are nowhere near ready for a fucking kid Chris, your career, and my inability to even fucking care for myself some days, yeah there's no fucking way I can care for a child who can't even speak on its emotions, Chris” I stand up out of frustration and start pacing.
I can tell Chris obviously got upset with my statement about our ability to care for a child but i was stressed and honestly wasn't thinking.
"I want you to know that I care about you deeply, Y/N. If you are indeed pregnant, please know that I will do everything in my power to support you and our child. Even if it means giving up my career, I will do it willingly. Let's go get a pregnancy test and we can talk about everything else later, okay? I am here for you, and I will always be." he says, his voice filled with empathy and understanding as he gently cups my cheeks in his hands, rubbing them softly up and down and warm smile spreads across his face.
As our eyes meet, a warm smile spreads across his face and I can't help but return it. He takes my hand in his and gently guides me towards the living room, his grip firm yet gentle. The coolness of his skin against mine sends shivers down my spine.
“Girl, were you guys arguing? Normally after we come home from Boston it's all ‘Oh Chris more, more’ typically a traumatic event” Nick says mocking me with a smile plastered across his face.
“Y/N and I are running to CVS so well be back in a little,” Chris says walking him and me down the stairs and to my car.
The drive to CVS was filled with a bunch of conversations and laughter, talking about if I was pregnant how we would raise our child, and Chris talking about the dad jokes he's gonna have, and considering he's a triplet he carries the genetic that I'm probably gonna twins or triplets.
“How many of these things do we need? What brand is best? why are there so many options?” Chris says holding 3 boxes of pregnancy tests and struggling to figure out which one to pick “fuck it why don't we buy all of them and use one pack tonight then we'll have the extra on hand in case our irresponsibility gets the best of us” he continues.
Chris and I walked up to the front counter and dropped the boxes of tests. The worker behind the counter took a look at the tests and then looked back at us, giving us a fake smile. After ringing up the purchase, we made our way to my car.
“So do you think you are pregnant?” Chris says breaking the silence.
“I mean normally my cycles are normal and a week late is not normal at all but it could be my hormones changing or something, but I do wanna make sure,” I say glancing at Chris nervously biting his nails.
“You were right about how irresponsible we are with our sex lives but when we first started fucking we knew the risk of everything and I mean our kids would be pretty cute,” he says placing his hand on my leg and rubbing a small circle with his thumb.
Chris and I pulled up into the driveway. As we got out of the car, he held my hand tightly and carried the CVS bag in the other hand as we made our way into the house and up the staircase.
“did you get any snacks?” Nick says eating a bowl of popcorn on the couch with Matt watching the most random movie on Netflix.
“Uhm no I just got a couple of personal things” I say nervously holding up the bag and sending a warm smile to Nick.
Chris and I pretty much B lined to the bathroom, anxiously “So which one do we use?” Chris says looking down at the boxes.
“Just give me the one that says Clearblue” i say softly laughing as Chris opens the box for me and inspects it before handing me the little stick.
“Do you want me to hold the stick while you piss? I'm sorry I have no idea how these things work” he says laughing allowing his back to slide down the wall and sit with his back against the shower door.
“Chris it's fine i know how to use these, believe me my friends in highschool weren't the most responsible either” I say laughing beginning to pee on the little white and blue stick.
“So how long do we wait?” Chris says helping me take a seat on the floor next to him.
“5 minutes” I breathe out setting a 5-minute timer on my phone and leaning my head against the shower door.
As we sat in the bathroom, waiting for the pregnancy test to show its result, the silence felt palpable. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather a deafening one that seemed to fill the entire room. With just the two of us present, we anxiously waited for the five minutes to pass.
“Would it be a bad thing if I wanted it to be positive?” Chris chuckles.
“I wouldn't necessarily say a bad thing, there's a part of me that kind of wants it to be positive too” i smile back at Chris.
The alarm on my phone quickly broke the once-loving moment sending us into a panic. Chris and I stand up walking to the counter.
“Wait should we film it in case you are then we could always have it if you could be pregnant?” Chris’ gaze softens as he looks at me.
“Chris not the time” I softly laugh out.
“Right,” he nods smiling back at me. “WAIT” he grabs my hand “Whatever happens, I love you,” he says in a serious tone.
With a warm smile, I gaze lovingly at him and reciprocate his affectionate words, "I love you too Christopher." However, my attention is quickly drawn towards the counter where the pregnancy test lays face down, taunting my nerves. With trembling hands, I muster up the courage to pick it up and slowly turn it around to face me, my heart pounding in anticipation of the result.
‘Not Pregnant’
“YES, MORE CREAMPIES” Chris shrieks wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me up, and spinning me around as I giggle out of excitement.
He carefully seats me down back flat on my feet. Our moment was quickly interrupted by both Nick and Matt barging through the door.
“ARE YOU GUYS- wait is that a pregnancy test? Y/N ARE YOU PREGNANT?” Nick yelled as Matt's eyes widened at the little blue stick in my hands.
“Please for the love of god, I don't want a little Chris running around, or two, or even three” Matt places his hand on his forehead.
“No she is not” Chris chuckles at the boys’ comment.
“THANK YOU,” matt and nick say in unison.
“Wrap it before you tap it next time Chris,” Nick says walking away and back to the living room.
“Now I'll say it again, after 2 weeks of Facetime sex I would like to absolutely fuck your brains out” Chris says smirking down at me.
“Please do” I smile as he picks me up gripping the backs of my thighs as my legs wrap around his waist leading me to the bedroom.
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A/N pt 2: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THISSSSSS AND TYSM TO @cosmicmistake42069 FOR THIS INSPIRATION!!
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xoxo-sarah · 3 days
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↝a/n: I'm just posting all my old fics in my notes app because I don't have any good ideas as of this moment.
↝pairing:Steve Harrington x reader
↝warning: angst, unrequited feelings, heartbreak, sad!reader, not proofread
|| Disclaimer: I do not own (character), or any character from (show, movie, etc.). I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||
↝⎙ 4.27.24
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You shouldn't be here. You knew that, but you couldn't help yourself. The feelings you had for Steve were eating at you, keeping you up at night. All the time you spend together felt like torture when you thought back to them. The glanced you would spare him even though he wasn't looking. He was never looking, not like you were.
The laughing and jokes were friendly for him, something he also did with his other friends. It just felt different for you.
You tried to keep it to yourself, you really did. It just became too much. Your thoughts were overfilling your skull, spilling out of your tear ducts late at night, when you were alone in your room.
You knocked at the door before you could stop yourself.
Steve opened the door, his face turning into one of pure bewilderment. Before he could even say hello, your mouth was open, words spewing out of it like vomit.
"I know it's late but I couldn't go to sleep. I need to get something off my chest and I need you to just...listen."
Steve went to open him mouth but closed it when your eyes harshly shut, watching as you conjured up the guts.
"I love you and I need you to love me too. Tell me that your thoughts have been of me just like mine have been of you." But you didn't say that, 'cause that would be even more pathetic than showing up at his doorstep in the middle of the night.
"You make me feel wanted and needed in a way I haven't felt before, and that's too much for me to have as just a friend." Your eyes opened, staring at the way his hand flexed against the door he held open.
Steve stood, shell-shocked.
"Tell me that the times you made me feel seen were you just being friendly. Please-"
"Steve?"
A head of blonde hair walked behind Steve, smiling politely at you, hand moving across the extension of Steve's back.
Your breath caught in your throat.
She leaned up to whisper something in his ear. He finally moved his gaze from your pathetic silhouette. He looked at her, his jaw slack from your confession. An absentminded nod was enough for her to sway back to where she came from, leaving you two in silence.
How does one come back from this? It is humiliating.
Steve bit his lip, scratching at his forehead.
"Can we talk about this another time?"
This time, it was your turn to be gobsmacked. You felt as if your life couldn't get any sadder.
Without a word, you turned, not knowing what you were supposed to do after confessing your feelings like that. Tears fell down your face before you were out of his driveway.
You couldn't show your face anywhere he would be. There is no way in hell.
The old feeling in your chest that told you to cherish every moment with Steve- the one that told you to reach out to hold his hand- was now demolished and replaced with regret.
This whole thing is just humiliating.
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•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•
•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]
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dduane · 2 days
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What are your thoughts on companies like this that offer 'coaching services' for hopeful unpublished novelists?
This smells of scam to me but maybe I'm just a cynic:
Publishing Your Book
Query Letter Coaching/Editing – $550 per book (this includes two passes)
Synopsis Coaching & Editing – $750 per book (this includes two passes)
Proposal Coaching & Editing – $1,500 per book
Traditional Publishing Coaching – $200/hour (finding an agent, crafting your proposal, etc.)
Indie Publishing – $1000 (distribution to all platforms for optimal international exposure, guidance on pricing, blurb-writing, logistics, and keywords)
ISBNs for Indie Publishing – $150 per book format. Free if publishing through [the company selling these coaching services]
Briefly: before I got involved with any such operation, I'd want to talk to (multiple) people they'd worked with previously and find out what kinds of experiences they'd had. And in line with this, I'd be extremely cautious about any operation that wasn't run by professionals with a verifiable track record, and which wouldn't offer verifiable examples of feedback from people whose reality as non-sockpuppets could also be confirmed. And whom you could contact without having to go through the company in question.
On other issues: I'm looking kind of askance at some of those prices. (Here adding the disclaimer: I know people who do this kind of work out of a grounding of significant expertise and in good faith, and I'm not clear on what they're charging because I haven't really looked into it... not particularly needing it myself at this late stage in the game.)
At least part of the problem I'm having with the prices being charged in your example is based on the knowledge of how very much information of this kind is available free online. And yeah, there's the old chestnut about "The advice is worth what you've paid for it"... but that has sort of an unspoken negative corollary: "Except when you've paid for it and it nonetheless turns out not to have been worth much."
The trouble with the non-independent-publishing suggestions is that all of them deal with imponderables. Even if all the advice you purchase from those people at all those varied prices is absolutely right on the money, there's still no way to guarantee that any of it is going to lead to success in getting query letters, synopses or proposals actually looked at. Which puts this whole concept squarely in the nature of a gamble.
Not that luck doesn't have a role to play in a professional writing career. Sometimes you're just standing in the right place at the right time with a manuscript in your hands. But getting the idea that you can depend on that luck for any reason is unwise... as divine Fortuna is anciently famous for wandering all over the room, blowing on other folks' dice. (And if this makes me sound like I fall well down on the "Fortune Favors The Prepared" end of the spectrum: yeah, that.)
My advice would be to spend a good long while online, thoroughly researching all the free sites that have info to offer on all the traditional-publishing-facing topics. Then, after exhausting the available possibilities, if you still think you need to engage paid professional assistance... make inquiries among as many verifiable professionals as you can non-invasively query, before parting with any money at all.
As regards the indie-oriented fees: I'm finding those pretty steep. The prices for ISBNs in particular bother me. (Especially since in many places you can routinely buy packages of ten for about what these folks would charge you for two.) Yes, they're free if you publish with them: that sounds lovely. But publishers would normally buy many of those packages of ten. Or packages of a hundred: the more ISBNs you buy at once, the cheaper they get. And if you're paying the company for other services, who cares about the ISBNs? They're making money off you in different ways. Possibly equally overpriced ones.
So to finish: this is very much caveat emptor territory. There will inevitably be scammers out there, claiming their rates to be less than "bigger companies" are charging, but still too much. Therefore... advance only with utmost care.
...And adding this: @petermorwood glanced at the price list over my shoulder and said, "I wouldn't touch any of those with a barge pole."
At any rate: HTH!
...And now a word regarding our regrettably fickle non-sponsor, via Ol' Blue Eyes. :)
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lordelmelloi2 · 2 days
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we need help again...
I hate hate hate hate to make this post but we could really use some help. Mostly because I am uninsured until my job opens enrollment for its health insurance in June and on the eve of us signing the apartment lease tomorrow, I have contracted strep throat from my coworkers. Hooray!
I'm gonna try and get an appointment at the community health center doctor's tomorrow because I straight up don't have the money or time to go to the CVS minuteclinic across the street. They said it was $139 for a strep appointment without insurance, I said hell no... If I wait another day I can try and get a sliding scale $40 appt at the doctors. Right now is just stressful because we need money and because they didn't give us our security deposit back I'm not going to have enough money for my bills the beginning of the month. Plus there are literally THREE prescriptions I have asides from however much a Z pack will likely cost and one of them is an ointment from a compound pharmacy that I don't have money to pay for~!!!! 😭😭😭
Asides from that I am afraid that we miscalculated how much we have for rent for May so I'm trying to see about covering those costs so we aren't paying 3 days late into the month of May for our May rent first month. I really don't want to have a bad first impression with these people. They've been very kind to us so far with renting this new place but I don't want to push the limits.
I've already asked my dad for help but he wasn't able to spare enough for us to be totally covered + he needs me to pay him back by August. During the month of April I also applied to multiple credit unions for personal loans and got rejected...
So my total expenses are:
- Medication/Doctor's visit (including pre-existing prescriptions that I haven't had the money to pick up) ($160)
- Phone bill ($75 for this first month, should be going down next month as verizon charges my account with different coding)
- costs for rent/move (like hopefully $200 idk. I think we can swing the last hundred)
In addition: Because of my history of struggling with commissions due to my psychiatric disability, I don't really want to do this but if you donate a sum above $100 you can ask me to digitally paint something for you. Please no complicated requests or anything since I've been struggling with art for years now from depression/anxiety etc. but I would feel indebted to you if I didn't do anything. If this is something you'd like please DM me/send me an ask off anon.
* As for why we have been so financially fucked this month. Our current apartment complex (yes the one with the leaks, roaches, harmful construction noises etc.) has kept our security deposit which has us out $300 that we could've used towards the new place. They have fucked us over one last time.
My paypal as always is at: paypal.me/roseod
And please share if you can. Every reblog/donation of even a small amount is appreciated. Thank you all so much for supporting me.
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boba-beom · 19 hours
Text
⋆⭒˚.⋆ late nights, city lights | CHOI YEONJUN
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⟢ neighbour!yeonjun x gn!reader
⟢ drabble; comfort, fluff
⟢ after a long day of unpacking, you thank your neighbour for suggesting you take a break while he introduces you to the city you're about to call home.
⟢ wc: 999
⟢ warnings: reader already has a lil crush, a little collision, yeonjun perhaps takes an interest in reader; interpret that as you will :>
⟢ a\n: requested by @blackhairedjjun <3 added details! 'reader just moved to the city on their own & is nervous and excited at the same time about starting their life over there, yeonjun as the cute next-door neighbor at their apartment who the reader hits it off with' I was so excited to write this because I already had some thoughts floating in my head from the prompt :> I had fun writing this one, I hope you like it!
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the last cardboard box was finally emptied, only setting aside the contents of it to organise later on, before flattening out the box and shoving it on the pile by the front door. you managed to wake up incredibly early to unpack everything, so all you had left to do was organise things in the next few days before being able to settle in fully.
moving out was hard. but you finally moved out and it was something you had been wanting to do for the longest time now. you had your new job to thank as well as your friends who suggested you take this new chapter in life, hoping to start afresh.
you let out a tired sigh looking at all the flattened boxes you're still yet to dispose of, but just thinking about the trips you'll have to make coming up and down the apartment complex seemed to burden you already. but you're gonna have to get moving since it's already late in the night.
you shove as much flattened boxes into one that's still open, opening your door and picking up the box only to drop it after colliding with what seems to be one of your neighbours. great. you scold yourself before checking on your neighbour to apologise.
"oh gosh I'm so ... sorry." your voice trails quietly when you see a guy of a tall and lean build, long hair and taking off his headphones to hang from his neck before scurrying to help with the cardboard that fell out.
he chuckles, and you nervously laugh with him.
"long day?" he asks and you simply nod, gathering the boxes and holding onto them instead of giving them back to you. he saw the rest of the boxes by your door, and ultimately you pick up on his intentions. "I'll help you with these."
"oh this is embarrassing, the first time I see a neighbour and you're already doing something for me." you worry but you're still thankful all the while.
"don't worry, honestly, it's not a problem. it's about time I met the new neighbour." he says simply, letting out a pretty smile that's just as contagious as his laugh. "I'm yeonjun by the way, my flat's just on your right."
you give him your name and mentally take note of his flat number to make sure you greet him whenever you bump into each other. "again, sorry for stumbling into you, I haven't left the apartment since I got here."
he notices your timid smile and a thought crosses his mind.
"how about you grab a jacket and after we throw these out I'll show you around the city nearby." he suggests, raising his brows in anticipation of your answer.
of course, it doesn't take much convincing since you hadn't had time to explore yet.
"wait, really?" you watch him nod in your direction with full enthusiasm and it just makes it easier for you to feel at ease.
surprisingly, you realised you'd probably knock on his door one way or another to ask where to throw out the boxes, forgetting where to throw them out, but this was a lot easier and less daunting than having to knock on a door late into the night.
yeonjun was truly one of the most down to earth people you've ever met in a long time. his calm nature of making you feel welcome to the city, him walking on the pavement closest to the road while you both walk and converse down the quiet streets of the city.
the lights were bright as ever, thinking that it'd be busy at this time of night until yeonjun told you about which days are usually roaring at night and which ones are a little quieter.
surprisingly, your new neighbour took you to one of the 24/7 convenient stores nearby for some ice-cream. the nights were getting warmer and the jacket was just a precaution. it was becoming hoodie season and it had you observing yeonjun's outfit; an oversized graphic hoodie with wide leg denim shorts that looked like a long skirt. his style was appealing for what counts as 'casual' clothing. you even took a candid picture of him while he was looking up where else he should take you at this time of night.
then within an hour of wandering around, yeonjun took you back to the apartment complex and onto the rooftop where you were able to see the skyscrapers and occasional lights from vehicles beelining their way around the city.
"so, what do you think so far?" yeonjun's voice was a little hoarse, the both of you gazing over the pretty lights below.
your lips turn into a tight-lipped smile, pondering on your first few thoughts about your first night wandering around, even if it was spontaneous and only for an hour.
"I could get used to this." you lean your elbows on the ledge, smiling to yourself.
you were proud of yourself for finally doing what you've been longing to do, even after some people doubted you before. it didn't stop you when you had the right support system to encourage you every step of the way. and now you have yeonjun too.
said male turns his head towards you, a gentle smile crawling on his lips while he scans the relief beaming on your face.
"I can always show you around again." he suggests, "like we can explore during the day. but I don't mind wandering around at night again."
you hum in agreement. there was something so soothing about being in his presence, but also comforting knowing that he was already so open to helping you settle into this new part of your life.
"thank you, yeonjun. I really appreciate this." you turn to look at him too, eyes locking a little longer than you have the past hour. you have a good feeling that this friendship will be a good one.
this is gonna be a good one.
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© BOBA-BEOM ; all rights reserved. do not repost, copy, alter or translate in any way or platform.
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coryothesub · 3 days
Text
Sinful Desires
So I’ve been dabbling in some more kinky / taboo themes lately which prompted me to write this as a special treat no one asked for. Basically I have no excuse for this and sorry if I got any tbosas lore wrong because I haven't read the book
nsfw / mdni / sub!coryo / stepmom!reader / stepcest / breeding kink / mentions of underage sex work
You married Crassus Snow as soon as you turned eighteen. Looking back you could say that you were truly in love with the tall, handsome general. However for him you were just a warm body to sleep next to and tight pussy to drown his sorrow after the unfortunate passing of his beloved wife. His decision to remarry had definitely come too soon and you were definitely too young to even understand the implications.
After you received the news of your husband's tragic death, you decided to stay with the Snows, because you simply had nowhere else to go. Just like many others, your family had been torn apart by war and even the house you’d grown up in was now bombed to shreds. Your only options were to be poor or to be poor and homeless so you opted for the first one. 
You were always on good terms with Tigris. Daily struggle to sustain the family had brought you two pretty close especially because you both were forced to do the same unspeakable things just to maintain the food on the table and the roof above your heads.
First you categorically refused to bring her into that, but realizing it was getting harder and harder to make ends meet with your own endeavors and after thousands of silent and desperate “I’ll be fine, if you can do it then I can do it too” you finally gave in and introduced her to some men for whom your ripe age of twenty five was already too old to satisfy their needs.
You both didn't have much choice anyways since Grandma’am simply refused to move into a smaller apartment, let alone leave the Capitol. Apart from that and her other weird quirks she seemed to be a pretty nice lady. At least as far as you knew the right patriotic buttons to push in order to stay on her good side. 
Crassus’ son Coriolanus or Coryo, as Tigris used to call him, didn't seem to like you one bit. He considered you an intruder, an unfair replacement to his mother that did nothing but reminded him of his family's tragedy. 
Over the years Coryo seemed to have learned to tolerate you, mostly because he felt somewhat grateful for all your efforts, but still he remained cold and distant. You didn't particularly mind that, because you had no idea how to raise a young man. You felt pretty happy that he didn't ask you any awkward questions and managed to figure out everything himself. 
Sometimes during his teenage years you noticed Coryo secretly watching you while you were changing or getting ready for a bath. On some occasions he even touched himself while doing it trying to suppress his little moans by biting into his fist. You always knew he was there, but you never confronted him. You knew full well it would make your coexistence very awkward for both of you and frankly you found it pretty amusing.
After all, he was just a silly little boy for you until the time his nineteenth birthday came around. It started even earlier if you thought about it. After Coryo returned from his service in District 12 and got his hands on the Plinths' fortune he turned into a completely different man.
Coryo always had the taste for finer things in life and when he finally got the means to fund it, you only saw him wearing tailored dress suits and perfectly polished shoes. Even his whole posture had changed and when he passed you in the dining room followed by an intoxicating wave of expensive cologne, instead of the anxious malnourished boy you had known for most of your life you saw a fit and handsome young man that reminded you of your late husband so much.
Your run down penthouse was completely refurbished to suit your stepson’s taste and he showered all three of you with lavish presents, encouraging you to throw out your old things.
Finally he could have the life he had always envisioned. And every last memory of your humble existence after the war had to be exterminated and written off into oblivion.
Coryo had become confident, strong and ambitious. Some might say even ruthless. It was hard for Tigris to accept those changes and she grew more distant with her younger cousin. They barely spoke, she was mostly just looking at him with sadness and disappointment in her eyes.
Coryo didn't seem to care about that much. He didn't care about other people's feelings in general. But there was one interesting detail. The colder he became to others, the more delicate and gentle he was with you.
He always wanted to be in your vicinity, lighting your cigarette, opening the door for you or helping you to put on your coat. He always had to do a little something just to remind you he was there. He even pretended to care about your opinion, giving you the most dashing smile every time you seemed to agree with what he had actually already decided.
And the weirdest thing about that all was that he had started to refer to you as “mommy”. He had never called you that before and there was no particular reason for starting it now, especially because it seemed to make Tigris extremely uncomfortable.
And it sounded pretty eerie for your ears too, especially because Coryo always accompanied the word by giving you this one specific look that radiated childish naivety mixed with a hint of pure lust.
It always made your heart skip a beat, especially because in some weird twisted way you wanted it too. The sheer hunger in his icy blue eyes made your pussy tingle and after those interactions you always had to go to your room and touch yourself, your pleasure overshadowed by shame.
After all, you weren’t dead yet, you were just a woman in your early thirties and you hadn't been touched by a man since you had stopped selling your body. But for god's sake he was your stepson! You really needed to find some dick, before things spiraled out of control.
One day you returned to your room after running some errands and found a gift box on your bed. It was adorned with a crimson satin ribbon and a single white rose. You found an envelope laying next to it.
You opened it with trembling fingers, the strong rosy scent of Coryo's cologne filling the air. Inside the envelope there was a card with a few words in your stepson's neat handwriting.
From Coryo to Mommy with love…
You sighed and opened the box, finding a snow white, neatly folded piece of clothing inside. You couldn't really call it a nightgown, it was more like a negligee. You lifted the delicate item against the window, seeing the sunlight pass right through it. Of course it was nearly transparent apart from the exquisite hand made lace embroidery.
Coryo's taste was flawless as ever, you had to admit that, but this had to stop! You were gonna tell him tomorrow. But it wouldn't hurt anyone if you tried it on tonight, right? Just for one night, no one would find out, and you would demand him to return it tomorrow morning.
That night you put Coryo's present on and marveled at yourself in the mirror. It looked like a lacy cloud hugging your naked body so nicely the outline of your feminine curves visible through the sheer fabric. You turned around then moved your hips in a suggestive way flirting with your own reflection in the mirror. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt so desirable.
After pairing the negligee with a pair of white cotton panties, you went to bed. Just as you were drowsing off into your sleep, you heard the door creak before someone opened and closed it quietly. You rubbed your eyes and switched on the night lamp just to notice Coryo standing by your bed wearing nothing but his tight white undies and a loose fitting silk robe. His hair wasn't perfectly styled as usual, instead his blonde curls were falling freely around his face.
“Mommy?” He gazed upon you with the most innocent look in his baby blue eyes. “Can I sleep in your bed tonight?”
Coryo had never slept in your bed, even when he was a young boy often haunted by terrible nightmares, Tigris was always the one who comforted him and sang him to his sleep, you were just sitting on your bed listening quietly until you were sure the boy was alright.
You knew full well what his true intentions were. You had to act like an adult.
“I really don't think it's the best idea, Coriolanus,” you tried to sound strict and inexorable.
“Please, mommy! It's so cold and I can't sleep. I feel embarrassed to go to Tigris and ask her for a lullaby, not to mention we’re not on the best terms right now,” he was looking at you, his blue eyes wide and desperate.
“Please, please, just this one time!”
You sighed deeply and gave him a faint nod.
“Alright, just this time!”
To your surprise Coryo threw the robe off his shoulders and pulled down his underwear, revealing his long, handsome half hard cock, its tip looking so velvety and just as pink as his lovely lips.
You were so caught off guard that you didn't even manage to make any protests before he jumped into your bed and glued himself to your side, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
“Mommy…” he whispered against the sensitive skin of your neck, making you shiver. “I’ve been having the worst nightmares… About the war, about all the things we had to do to survive. I’ve tried everything to make them disappear, but they keep coming back…”
You knew this was your last chance to stop this, you had to push him away, order him to leave your room immediately and never come back, but instead sinful words of encouragement just spilled out of your mouth.
“It's alright, babyboy! Mommy's here and you're safe with me,” you hummed gently as your hand caressed his golden curls. 
God, this felt so wrong on so many levels especially feeling your stepson's now fully hard cock pressing against your thigh, waiting for what seemed to be inevitable at this point.
“Thank you, mommy, you’re always so good to me,” you heard Coryo say just before feeling his lips on your neck. He kept kissing your soft skin and teasing it with his tongue, you felt your pulse running wild and you knew he probably felt it too.
Coryo's hand, previously resting on your shoulder, was now traveling down, his fingers dove under the lacy fabric of your negligee and started drawing circles around your nipple making your breath speed up.
“Coryo what are you doing?” Your mind still felt as you had to resist the pleasant feeling although your body was enjoying it so much.
He looked at you ever so innocently.
“I read that fidgeting something with your fingers can be really calming,” he said, playing with your nipples and tweaking them gently. “I just wanted to test that theory, it seems like it truly works…”
You just sighed, feeling your whole body filling with the insuperable feeling of pure lust, your nipples were rock hard under Coryo's masterful fingers and you felt a treacherous wetness pooling up in your panties. You hated that your own body was betraying you like that under your stepson's salacious touch.
“Mommy, you have such beautiful breasts…”
You inhaled sharply as Coryo's lips wrapped around your nipple, starting to suck hungrily, while his hand traveled further downwards. It easily found its way between your thighs and dove under the waistband of your soaked panties.
“Oh,” he cooed, dipping his fingers in your wetness. “Mommy really needs her babyboy to help her out, huh?”
“Shut up, Coriolanus!”
You grabbed a fistful of Coryo's curls and pulled him away from titty to smash your lips together in a passionate kiss, he felt so needy and desperate as he was exploring your mouth panting softly as you felt his erect cock pressing to your thigh, leaving a trail of precum from its leaking tip.
“Oh fuck, Coryo,” you whispered his name against his lips feeling him pushing his long slender fingers inside you. Your wet cunt that swallowed them so easily. You were literally dripping around his digits as you felt the embarrassment slowly leaving your body and getting replaced by a feeling of raw insatiable desire.
“I'm here for your mommy,” Coryo whispered, his fingers deep inside your pussy, curling against your soft walls and teasing your sweet spot.
“I will help you fulfill all your needs. That's what family's for right?”
With one swift move you pulled down your panties and crawled on top of him pinning him to the bed and covering his mouth with your hand.
“Don't mention family, you filthy little boy!  If you want mommy to give you a treat, you need to stay quiet, is that clear?”
Coryo nodded and you took your hand away from his mouth, wrapping it around his throat instead. The young man gasped watching as your free hand steadied his rock hard cock at your entrance before you slowly sank down on him, your wet pussy taking his whole length with ease. A soft moan escaped your lips as he stretched out your tight cunt.
You kept your hand on his throat in a tight grip as you started to move at an easy pace, eliciting a series of moans from his lips. Coryo's pupils dilated as he saw your pussy sliding up and down his length making it glisten from your juices.
You tightened your grip around his throat as you sped up your movements enjoying his little gasps as he was fighting for air completely under your control. The sight before your eyes made you impossibly wet and lewd slapping sounds filled the room as you bounced up and down his shaft faster and faster with each movement.
Chasing your own pleasure you let go of Coryo's neck and threw your head back, letting the straps if your negligee slide down your shoulders revealing your lovely tits bouncing up and down as you kept riding your stepson's cock.
Coryo's eyes widened at the sight and he let out a deep groan as your tight walls clenched around his cock, his tip hitting against your sweet spot as you kept moving.
“Oh mommy, you’re making me feel so good,” Coryo spoke, breathing heavily as you were too busy chasing your release to make him keep up with his vow of silence.
“I want to cum inside you, to put a baby in your belly. To make you nice and round full of new life that would make our family complete and strengthen our ties forever.”
In your mind you realized how twisted these words were and that they could actually become true considering that you weren't on birth control since your sex work days but your brains were completely shut off by pleasure as you kept moving up and down Coryo's wonderful dick your manicured nails digging into his smooth pale chest.
Coryo's nostrils flared, watching your boobs bouncing up and down as he felt his climax approaching.
“I can't wait for those beautiful tits to be swollen and full of delicious milk oh oooooh…” he cut himself off, moaning loudly as thick ropes of cum filled your cunt spurting up against your velvety walls.
You rode him through his orgasm and your red nails dug deep into his skin leaving red scratches. After mere seconds you came hard all over his cock and squelching sounds filled the room as your juices were mixing together with his cum. You collapsed on top of your stepson, his cock still inside you and he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly.
“Just let me stay inside mommy's pussy a little longer,” he whispered. “Don't let the seed go to waste.”
“Fuck you, Coriolanus!” You hissed and bit into his neck using his distraction to wiggle out of his grip and crawl off of him making him whine at the loss of contact.
Coryo didn't put up a fight, he just watched you as you pulled the straps of your negligee back on your shoulders and then pulled you into his arms, wrapping himself around you.
You sighed and brushed a stray curl off his forehead looking into his big sleepy eyes. There was no way of denying the fact that you had just slept with your stepson, especially since you could still feel his heart beating softly against your skin and his cum dripping down your inner thighs.
It was so wrong. But still deep down in your heart in some sick and twisted way it felt so incredibly right.
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sciderman · 2 days
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ARE WE AFFIRMING YOUR GENDER?! IS THAT WHAT WE’RE DOING?!
Sci, first of all, I’m so sorry your dad said that listing your pronouns is embarrassing. It’s 2024. What’s embarrassing is being a parent who cares more about what other people think of them than what their child thinks of them. People don’t have to understand you, they don’t even have to agree with you, but if someone says they love you, the least they can do is make the attempt to show you they respect your identity as an individual person. I know this is particularly difficult for parents sometimes but it’s not impossible. I sincerely hope that someday your dad realizes how spectacular you are and how lucky he is to have the opportunity of knowing and loving someone as truly kind, funny, and generous as you are.
Second of all, LET’S GIVE ANOTHER SHOUT OUT TO THOSE PRONOUNS. Oooo I like the way you wear he/him. It’s loud, it’s rebellious, it’s confident, it’s authentic! It’s everything those angry white boys with podcasts WISH they were! You are entering your “boys will be boys” era and it’s covered in bright colors, zany patterns, sequins, and ATTITUDE.
I am so fucking proud of you for taking this big scary step into being your true self and laying it bare before the world. Just last night I was thinking about how one of the reasons I was so miserable in my 20s was because when I was around 21/22 I went back into the closet to make myself “more palatable” for the people around me. Less confusing for them. Less work for them. And I’ll never actually know what experiences I lost when I lost myself. I’ll never know what I could have done, the opportunities and stories and memories I missed out on because I was only living as half a person. I’m back on track now though, and the good news for you is: now that you’ve taken this step you never have to ask that question again.
I’ve gotta say, Sci, announcing your true pronouns is definitely one of the sexiest things you could ever do. And Wade agrees. <3
hooougghh bless you @nobutforrealthough - you're so cool and sexy and ough...
i feel so very exhausted in the head lately about identity things. i think a lot of people thought i was some kind of gender icon when really i'm just piecing things together as best as i can. i feel a little exhausted that people thought so much of me and i'm not delivering on it. (but i've felt that way all the time, all my life, from pretty much everybody.)
i guess it's difficult to do all this alone, without anyone in your corner. i think writing wade and peter, they sort of felt like friends to help me through it, because i don't really have anyone else out there to help me through and speak to me on my level. so – i kind of had to invent voices to give me courage. and it helps. but i worry that it's a little sad, too. sorry. i'm feeling very frank and bare this morning.
it's a lonely old world when you still haven't figured out where you fit in it. and maybe you're not meant to fit. but you kind of do need to fit, for your sanity. for your survival. so you contort and compromise and squeeze yourself into weird shapes and bug your head. and it's all so, so exhausting for me. and i think my body's finally telling me it's time to retire. my body is so, so tired...
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I saw your bakugou with sibling reader! I loved it and would like to ask for a continuation
Maybe when the reader gets their quirk? And how would the family and others react if it does turn out to be more powerful than his
★。/ plus ultra: echo burst! \。★
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pairing: bakugo x gn!sibling!reader (part two!)
(here's a link to part one if you haven't read it yet!)
fandom: boku no hero academia
word count: 5.4k
tw: none! purely some platonic, wholesome fluff. of course, a bit of cussing from bakugo, and some canon typical violence, unedited because i’m too tired for that-  (very little violence, only implied/mentioned, little baby y/n bakugo doesn’t need that–)
notes: this is my first fic sequel! on my old blog, i had a sequel planned out and requested of bakugo’s sibling ending up quirkless, so if anyone wants to see a secondary sequel about a quirkless!sibling as well, let me know! but of course, they/them pronouns for little sibling bakugo, and please enjoy! thank you again for requesting this fic anon!
! be sure to like and reblog if you enjoyed !
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‘don’t touch that y/n.’
katsuki bakugo reluctantly holds onto the tiny, chubby hand of his little sibling, dragging them haphazardly through a crowded market aisle. despite being late to your appointment at the doctor, you had begged him to take you to get ice cream afterwards. your appointment had gone well, and mitsuki had demanded he do anything you wanted today.
he decides to let you loose in a merchandise store just off the side of the street. it’s the same one where you had gotten your all might onesie, and your favourite lunch boxes. he wouldn’t be surprised if it was the same place deku got all his merch too.
looking around at the merch, he can’t help but think of your appointment, though it hadn’t really bothered him at all before now.
things were great. your joints in your little toe showed you would get your quirk at some point, it would develop, which would no doubt relieve his mother - she had long ago begun doubting whether you would end up quirkless, and the idea had concerned her until she had almost driven herself mad. but, according to him, you were fine. a quirk would come to you eventually, it just had to develop, and he told bakugo that things would be fine with a hearty smile on his round face.
it had made him think - he would only admit that it was briefly - what it would be. your quirk. would it be explosive like his own or would it be defensive or weaker? despite thinking of this too, he didn’t really have the heart - and he had one, deep down, for you - to think of his sibling any differently.
‘katsuki!’ you come running up to him, a round bandaid on your bare arm from the blood test you undertook. you cried a little, but toughed it up, your eyes still slightly red. in your arms is a soft midnight plush, and you hold it out to him with the biggest grin he’s probably ever seen. ‘can i get a midnight?’
he looks at it for a moment. he doesn’t even bother asking how much it might be before he deflates at the doe-eyed look you give your big brother. you walk him to the counter and hold his hand while he pays for your new plushee. one you definitely didn’t need.
with midnight plush in hand, you let him lead you out of the store.
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bakugo isn’t stupid, he knows the city isn’t safe when it gets darker. he knows that villains lie on almost every corner, and that he can’t always predict when or where they might strike. he had let you drag him anywhere, and stupidly he followed. because what kind of brother would he be if he denied you? that’s how he ends up halfway across the city and carrying you home while you doze off on his shoulder. your midnight plush pressed tightly between your backs. but something passes overhead, a dark shape in the sky. a shop alarm rings out through the blackness of the street. the night lights flicker on. 
it’ll only take him about fifteen minutes to get you home. but even he can feel the slightest thrill of fear that sets in. a prickling on his skin. 
then a bin in the alley rattles and knocks over. from the quick flash he can see, it’s not one of the villains he’s seen before, or at least no one important enough to remember. his grip tightens around your legs, hoisting you higher on his back before he continues his walk home, his steps quickening despite himself.
your head lolls on his shoulder, your face pressed into his shirt.
‘kat? what’s wrong?’ he doesn’t answer you, only slides you onto the concrete quickly and hides you behind an alcove in the storefront. he makes sure you’re hidden by the foliage hanging overhead. ‘katsuki?’
‘stay here, ok?’ he tells you quietly, ruffling your hair a little bit to calm the panicked glaze in your eyes. it doesn’t work. his parents were always better at this stuff. ‘don’t make a sound.’
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you’ve watched katsuki fight before. you’ve seen villain attacks that he got caught up with on the news, as a u.a student it’s almost expected. but this is different. you had never seen it in person. never felt the heat radiating off his explosions, seen the buildings behind this villain crumble on impact, never felt the ringing of your ears when it finally bursts. no, this is different. katsuki has only been hit once or twice, dodging the villains knives that seem to almost miraculously float around him, flying in any direction he pleases. it scares you, just how close it feels now. you don’t think you like it very much at all.
but then katsuki dodges one of those flying knives, and on his cheek a shallow wound oozes a trickle of blood. he wipes it away nonchalantly, like this happens all the time. you had never seen something like this, he was always patched up by the time he came home to see you. but this is terrifying. 
without a thought, you leap forward from the alcove, little legs pounding the pavement as you plant yourself in the space between katsuki and the villain. your little arms outstretched to protect your brother, your midnight plush clutched in your fists. fat tears roll down your round cheeks and your lip trembles.  the villain laughs at you, you think. and katsuki yells at you to reach cover again. maybe he barks out some threat, hoping it would scare you enough to run away. but it doesn’t. instead, you let yourself be curled into his arms and you hold midnight like a beacon. your crying erupts into earth-shattering screams.
a shockwave bursts from your fingers, the force pulsating in your skin and travelling up your arms. it hurts a little bit, makes your arms shake. your knees feel weak as you hold it, the bubble growing until it pins the villain against the alley wall. it crumbles under his weight, pushing his form against the brick. even if you wanted to you wouldn’t be able to let it go. 
‘y/n, it’s okay, it’s okay,’ katsuki soothes with a hand on your head, shielding your gaze from the villain as he finally falls limp to the floor. not quite dead, not yet at least. ‘let’s go home, yeah?’
you nod up at him, and the shockwave droops, it fades, becoming a small bubble around you and your brother, encasing you in safety as you play with the tips of midnight’s hair. 
katsuki doesn’t quite understand it immediately, but it clicks for him as he reaches the front step of your home, looking down at your sleeping form cradled in his arms, he realises just how powerful your quirk could be. your cheeks are red and splotchy from your crying before, and yet you look almost peaceful.
he moves aside your hair, and looks down at your face.
despite knowing you would always be an amazing hero, now he knew for sure. now he could probably brag that his little sibling was going to surpass even all might. 
maybe, he wouldn’t mind you surpassing him either, if you kept smiling like you had.
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philosophiums · 2 days
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hooooo boy i haven't posted a fic here in a long time but @hinamie's itafushi art fully possessed me so please take this offering as my first ever jjk fic
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Night has set in like a bruise – a dark sky framed and mottled by light pollution, a memory of violence hidden behind a veneer of something almost pretty. There’s evidence of life in the distant city, but nothing close by. Megumi can hear a soft thrum of traffic and the occasional shout or laugh, but the immediate vicinity hosts only crickets and the restlessness of his companion.
Itadori is pacing at the bottom of the staircase Megumi is sitting on, and Megumi watches him closely out of the corner of his eye. It’s nothing new for Itadori to hype himself up before a fight, so Megumi isn’t worried, exactly, but there’s something abnormal in the fierceness of his movements, the rolling of his shoulders, the way his head tilts like he’s trying and failing to have a conversation in his head. 
He doesn’t want to mention it. Conversations with Itadori are often marred by the reality of what the finish line looks like – they can’t both make it out alive. They both know it. Itadori likes to pretend he hasn’t grasped the reality of the situation, but Megumi understands the depth of the haunting he carries around when he thinks no one is looking. Which means that when Megumi asks after him, inquires into his wellbeing, Itadori brushes it off with a smile and a laugh. And his smile is as brilliant as the sun, so of course Megumi has to look away to protect himself.
Somewhere in the nearby bushes, several of his rabbit shikigami are maintaining a perimeter around the area, allowing him to relax while still doing everything he can to stay on high alert. Shibuya shouldn’t have turned into such a mess, and maybe it wouldn’t have if more people had been suspicious to the point of paranoia. It’s too late to fix that, too late to take away Itadori’s scars, too late to take back the suicide pact he himself signed, but he can at least look ahead to whatever future awaits them. He can do his best to keep them safe. 
“Fushiguro.” 
Oh no. Nothing good ever comes from Itadori’s serious voice. 
Please. 
If I die, you’ll kill me, right?
He blinks and finds himself looking at a stationary Itadori, hands in his pockets and eyes on the building behind Megumi. “What is it?”
“Are there really curses in there? I thought they couldn’t step foot in a church.” Itadori looks genuine when he asks, and it wouldn’t be the first foolish question out of his mouth, but the tone he used to call Megumi’s name just… doesn’t match with the question. Seriousness followed by off-handed curiosity isn’t exactly Itadori’s style. This isn’t what he had wanted to say, but something made him pivot into an unplanned conversation. 
Maybe Megumi has been paying too close attention to him. Maybe Megumi should know better. It’s all doomed anyway – a heat death guaranteed to happen. There’s no point in devoting so much time trying to learn someone’s intricacies when they’re inevitably going to leave, by force or otherwise. He should save himself the heartache. He should have learned his lesson the first time Itadori died.
His arms shake with the phantom weight of Itadori’s body in his arms, limp and lifeless and bloody with that stupid soft smile still on his face even in death with a hole in his chest. His parting words still circle in Megumi’s head sometimes.
Part of him wishes that Itadori had cursed him in the end. Maybe it would have been easier.
“You’re thinking of vampires,” Megumi says. “Or demons. Curses can go anywhere.”
Itadori makes a sound like he’s not really sure he believes Megumi, which is insane because Megumi is not the one who watches movies with vampires and demons in them. At least, he hadn’t before Itadori walked into his life and demanded movie nights at the school and midnight viewings at the theater.
“A church, though?” Itadori continues, insisting. “Aren’t these supposed to be, like, full of positive energy?” He tilts his head up and to the side, and the closest streetlight reflects across his face, highlighting his jaw, catching in his eyes until they glow damn near gold.
Megumi has to look away. His chest hurts if he stares too long at everything he can’t have.
“Just because something is comforting doesn’t mean it can’t be a curse.” As soon as the words leave Megumi’s mouth, he knows he shouldn’t have said them. Even in his peripheral, almost entirely out of his view, he can see Itadori look at him with his expression opening into surprise or something worse.
Fuck. He really can’t allow himself to be so obvious, especially when they’re hours away from stepping through the barrier around the first Tokyo colony and into the Culling Game. They’re about to put their lives on the line again. Now isn’t the time to lose his composure.
Before he can catch himself, his hand is in his pocket, digging out the pack he keeps for what he considers emergencies. There’s a cigarette between his fingers in a matter of seconds, and his lighter is in his other hand a moment later.
Itadori swipes it before he can light up, and Megumi is left with wide eyes and a cigarette dangling limply between his lips as he looks up at the boy suddenly standing over him. He forgets, sometimes, just how fast Itadori is. 
“Since when do you smoke?” Itadori asks, all childish curiosity, not an ounce of judgement in his tone. And yet, the stolen lighter feels like judgement – a withholding of something, well… harmful, sure, but it’s not like Megumi isn’t aware that every inhale of nicotine is an inch closer to his death. What does losing a minute or an hour or a day matter when he’s probably not going to reach the age of thirty, anyway?
“Since middle school,” Megumi replies, reaching out to attempt to quickly reclaim his lighter, but all Itadori has to do is lean his torso to the side and it’s out of reach. “Can I have that back, please?” 
“Why?” Itadori hasn’t had such a soft look on his face since they dragged themselves kicking and screaming out of the warzone Shibuya turned into.
“Because there’s a cigarette in my mouth and it would be a waste not to smoke it.”
Itadori makes a face, a petulant little pout just this side of sticking his tongue out. It’s cute, and Megumi has to close his eyes for a moment. “I meant why did you start smoking in middle school?”
The sigh that leaves Megumi’s lungs is heavier than he wants it to be. He’s not… good with emotions, and he’s even worse at expressing them. It wasn’t a problem when he was all alone, with the second-years distant due to their classes, and Gojo either a nuisance better avoided or thousands of kilometers away taking care of a curse too powerful for anyone else to handle. But then Itadori, fresh off the loss of his grandfather, sacrificed himself for not only his friends but for Megumi as well. And he has refused to leave, no matter how hard Megumi tried at first to put up his barriers and protect himself.
Because the truth is that Megumi was helpless from the moment Itadori jumped through a window and crash landed on a curse. He is the very definition of someone with an unshakeable character. The fact that they’re here, now, on the backside of a slaughter, newly scarred and traumatized, and Itadori can still smile at him in a way that softens his eyes proves beyond any doubt that he is who he is and that won’t change. And it guts Megumi from the inside out because everyone who has ever touched his life has become poisoned by him.
He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and holds it between his knuckles. “I don’t know. I wanted…” This time when he sighs, it’s softer, and he moves his gaze away out of embarrassment more than anything else. Itadori and Kugisaki already made fun of him for how he acted in middle school, and he doesn’t want to go through it again. “I wanted people to be afraid of me – teachers, students, upperclassmen, underclassmen, it didn’t matter. I wanted to look and be as aggressive as possible so they didn’t mess with me or Tsumiki.”
Itadori snorts, and less than a second later he’s laughing with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. For the moment, he’s unguarded, and Megumi uses the opportunity to stare. In the low amber light, he looks impossibly young, soft around the edges where his scars and personal losses have hardened him. The pink of his hair dims into the gentlest of dawns, and the happy tears that pearl in the corners of his eyes are more stunning than the thin veil of starlight overhead. In a world overflowing with curses, Megumi has never believed in angels, and yet it’s the only word he can conjure that comes even close to describing the boy in front of him. 
Megumi knows he’s in love; how could he not be?
“That’s just like you,” Itadori says, breathless, and Megumi suddenly feels like he’s falling even though Itadori is the one suddenly dropping to sit on the stairs beside him.
Itadori is a morning person, even though he’s slow to wake up. He won’t drink coffee unless it’s iced. He never tucks in his shirt tags. When he’s upset, he throws himself into social situations to hide behind other people’s laughter. He carries snacks in his pockets and will offer them to everyone. These are all details that Megumi has collected about Itadori, stashing them away like a crow with shiny objects, hoarding them as the treasures that they are and that he can never truly have.
He had never once considered that Itadori has been observing him just as studiously in return.
Their knees bump, and Megumi knows he should pull away, but he can’t bring himself to. The night isn’t cold, but Itadori’s warmth is a comfort, anyway. Megumi hasn’t had many comforts in his life.
“Give me my lighter back,” he says instead of acknowledging anything else. His chest hurts. His heart is too loud in his ears. Itadori is right there, lips twisted by his scar, eyes flashing with the humor that’s still rolling through him, shaking his shoulders as he looks back at Megumi.
Instead of answering or acquiescing, Itadori leans forward until their shoulders press together, blocking out the ghost of a breeze flowing in from behind them, and rolls his thumb over the spark wheel until a flame catches. His hand and Megumi’s both come up at the same time to cup around the other side, protecting the small flame from the elements, and it’s tender and intimate when Megumi’s fingers brush against the curve of Itadori’s palm.
He pretends not to notice as he puts the cigarette back between his lips and ducks his head. The first drag to catch the paper and tobacco on fire takes a while, and he is so incredibly aware of how close Itadori is, of the protective shell they’ve made with their bodies as they keep this flame going between them. He can’t think about it, can’t acknowledge it, can’t –
As soon as he sees embers, he sits up and leans away, creating a small pocket of space for him to exhale into. But the flame stays lit, Itadori’s thumb still pressed into the fork to keep the gas flowing out. 
Megumi smacks his arm without looking at him directly. “You’re wasting the butane.”
Without protest this time, Itadori listens, and the flame dies with a soft click as the fork snaps back into place.
The stillness of the night around them settles again, crickets becoming the dominating sound over the gentle rattling of leaves and the far distant honking of a car horn. The tobacco sizzles as the fire slowly eats through it every time Megumi takes a drag.
Itadori’s unwavering gaze on him feels like a physical weight. There’s a tender smile there, Megumi just knows it, but god damn it he won’t look. This can’t be a this. There’s nothing here but a road that dead ends on a bottomless cliff. No one has forever, despite claiming that they will, but he and Itadori don’t even have years. They could die tomorrow, the moment they step through that barrier. Fuck, the curses in the church behind them could come out and catch them off guard right now, and no one would know where to look for their bodies.
So it doesn’t matter that Itadori sometimes looks at Megumi like he hung the moon. It doesn’t matter that Megumi understands the plight of Icarus when he sees Itadori smile. He is not going to create a situation that is doomed to end early. He is not going to push his feelings into the world just for the universe to stomp them into the dirt. He is not going to let himself muddy the lines on a friendship that is already too good to be true.
He takes a drag in that’s harsher and longer than the last, fast enough that his lips burn from the fire racing too fast through the cigarette towards the filter. He lets it hurt, tells himself he deserves it, and exhales the smoke slowly with his eyes closed.
For a moment, he just sits there, his arm draped across his knee, which is still pressed into Itadori’s knee, and tries to pretend that everything is fine. It’s normal. It’s just a crush. It’ll go away. He would rather die with longing in his heart than risk living long enough to experience a loss that will crush him.
When he brings his hand back up to take another drag, fingers on his wrist stop him in his tracks.
“Fushiguro.”
“Itadori?” He turns his head and opens his eyes in the same movement, wondering if there’s a problem, if all the actions he took to be obsessively vigilant were for naught, if somehow something got the drop on them. “What –”
The press of Itadori’s lips against his own shuts him up fast and leaves his mind spinning and his lungs devoid of air.
What?
Why…?
Itadori makes a noise at the back of his throat – soft, questioning, encouraging – and Megumi forgets every reason he has ever had on why this is a bad idea.
He kisses back.
It’s not a desperate kiss. There isn’t a sudden light switch that flips on and turns them into feral horny teenagers crawling all over each other, desperate to touch in as many places as possible as fast as they can. Three points of contact is all they started with and all they still have. Their knees, digging into each other in a way that almost hurts, but the warmth is so strong that it doesn’t matter. Itadori’s fingertips oh, so gently resting against Megumi’s wrist, not even touching skin. And the tentative slide of their lips as Megumi tilts his head and Itadori seems to crack a smile.
Itadori’s lips are chapped, and Megumi can feel the texture of scar tissue as they blindly search for an angle that feels better than the others. It probably wasn’t meant to be a long kiss when Itadori first leaned in, but Megumi can’t bring himself to pull away even though there’s absolutely nothing physically holding him here. The instinct to jerk back with his hackles up is there, just under his skin, but every exhale of Itadori’s sounds like a blissed-out sigh as it shivers across Megumi’s cheeks, and he finds himself more and more willing to just have this.
Itadori is the one to break the kiss, but he doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against Megumi’s and just breathing into his space. Megumi feels like he just ran five kilometers; it’s impossible to suck enough oxygen into his lungs to stop feeling lightheaded. His cigarette is still between his fingers, slowly burning itself down to the filter, but Megumi has completely forgotten about it. 
“What was that for?” Megumi whispers, eyes flicking back and forth looking for clues in the depths of Itadori’s eyes. It’s an accusation, yes. They could have kept pretending. The pain at the end of this is going to be unimaginable. But it’s also a desperate plea. 
Don’t pretend it didn’t happen. Don’t apologize. Don’t say you didn’t mean to.
“I don’t know,” Itadori admits, and that crooked smile is back, perching on his mouth in a way that tempts Megumi to kiss it away. “Good luck? Felt like the right time.”
Megumi drops the cigarette by his foot and moves his hand to Itadori’s face, cupping his cheek and the curve of his jaw. He can feel himself shaking with adrenaline and the fear of an unknown dark path laid out in front of them. “You’re an idiot,” he says, but even he can hear the fondness in his voice. 
“Mhm, yeah, you’ve said that before.” Itadori’s hand covers Megumi’s, and the shaking subsides. “But you kissed me back, so what does that make you? Reckless?”
“Insane,” Megumi offers, just to hear Itadori laugh. He isn’t expecting the second kiss that follows, but he’s glad for it, anyway.
It’s funny, he thinks, even as he pushes a little closer and sighs into the shape of Itadori’s mouth, that regardless of the church behind him, regardless of the temples he has walked through time and again, regardless of the habits he hasn’t broken of prayers during the new year in exchange for fortune slips that hold no merit to him – despite religion flowing in and around his life, there is no higher power in the universe he believes in as much as he believes in Itadori. 
If anyone can defy fate, if anyone can push through to the other side of certain tragedy, it will be Itadori. 
Start by saving me, he had said, and this isn’t exactly what Megumi had meant. But his chest is warmer than if he had tipped back some sake, and he certainly feels like he could face down a special grade curse and win right now.
They’re not going to have forever. They may not even have twenty-four hours.
But they have tonight. They have right now.
“You better not die tomorrow,” Megumi warns, just barely breaking away enough to speak.
Dying alone is all but a guarantee for jujutsu sorcerers. One day, one of them is going to leave the other behind, and it’s going to rip the survivor to pieces and scar like a phantom limb. Even without a confession, their feelings have splattered like a hemorrhaging wound onto the staircase between them. No amount of backtracking, of lying, of pushing each other away could mop it up now – they’ve left a stain, and their hands are doomed to always have each other’s blood caked under their fingernails.  
“Would be a shitty good luck kiss if I did,” Itadori says before leaning back with a smile as broad as the sky.
Megumi pushes him away with the hand on his cheek, and Itadori’s laugh overtakes the crickets and the wind and the far-off traffic as he pulls himself back into Megumi’s orbit with their fingers tangled together.
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stevetonyweekly · 2 days
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SteveTony Weekly - April 28 - Week 17
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Hello, friends, hopefully you had a great week! Here’s what I read this week--I revisited a favorite by Sineala. Check it out and be sure to leave comments/kudos if you enjoy it! 
Safe Haven by gottalovev, zappedbysnow
It's been three months since the Battle of New York. Four since Steve woke up in the future. Everything is still too fast, too bright, too glib. And then, as if it wasn't enough, Steve is dragged through a portal into an alternate universe. Other Him is happy, though, and that feels like hope.
my thoughts: I love Steve realizing he could and should be happy. The hope that he was given by someone else is just--so lovely to me.
Cicada Days by Captain_Panda
The serum's failing. Overwhelmed by the implications, Steve runs.
Tony Stark catches up to him. And then he puts his foot on the gas pedal.
Because nothing says summer love like a road trip.
my thoughts: come for the angst and stay for ironbound the shark. This has been on my tbr for a while because i KNEW it would hurt me, and it did. And it was lovely.
he's written mine on my upper thigh by meidui
If Tony really wanted to set boundaries, he wouldn’t be picking up Steve’s call this late at night.
If he didn’t want this ill-advised romp with Steve to go any further, he wouldn’t have been on his couch reading a book Steve left behind the one night Morgan is away at a sleepover; he would be on a date with someone his age, someone who isn’t his goddamn babysitter.
my thoughts: i'm obsessed with the way that meidui writes babysitter!Steve. He's so needy and lovely and unapologetic in his devotion to Tony, and Tony 'trying to do the right thing' Stark needs to just get onboard.
the only love i haven't screwed up by meidui
When Steve wakes up from the ice, there’s somebody waiting for him. He's handsome, and older, and he tells Steve that they're soulmates and he's waited all his life to find him.
my thoughts: the way that this soulmate fic plays out is heartbreaking and lovely.
Thrust Issues by Sineala for phoenixmetaphor
A battle gone wrong leads Tony to the unexpected and pleasant discovery that Steve is much more well-endowed than he could ever have imagined. But when Tony learns that Steve has never actually been able to sleep with anyone because of his size, Tony does what any good friend would do: he offers to relieve Steve of his virginity. Personally. Tony's determined, Tony's methodical, and Tony has a plan. He's going to get Steve laid. Tony just needs to make sure Steve never finds out that Tony's in love with him.
my thoughts: Sineala always hits just right with her Steve and Tony and I absolutely adored my reread of this one, how Steve is trying so hard to make this MORE and how Tony just--cannot fathom that Steve would ever want to date him. The 'you're straight' scene is honestly so fantastic.
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navstuffs · 2 days
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Tag, you are on it!
Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x GN!Reader
Summary: Miguel finds you and Gabriella playing on the backyard. Based on the comic Tag - Pixie and Brutus by @pet_foolery
Warning tags: domestic bliss, fluff, happiness, feel good type, my bad attempt on writing comedy lol
Author's Notes: after being obsessed with this man over a year, i finally joined the fandom (its never too late i guess). hope you enjoy your reading!
Miguel arrives home exhausted from work, taking off his coat and loosening his tie. What an awful day! Between deadlines not being respected and useless meetings taking far too long, Miguel had to stay late to finish a sudden important project. He was fortunate enough to have you pick Gabriella up from school. 
You met Gabriella after five months of dating Miguel(and almost two years of knowing each other). "A friend," Miguel explained the first time you met, nervous about his little girl's reaction—a sentiment you also shared, way more desperate for her approval. 
Everything went so well; even Miguel felt a little jealous of you, watching his daughter gravitate in your personal space the entire night. Especially when, before you left, he noticed Gabriella waving so you could kneel on her level. She covered your ears with her small hands, whispering as you nodded. Miguel observed quite anxiously, his eyes focused on any reaction. You just opened an enigmatic smirk as if you were teasing him that you could win his daughter so quickly.
Three months after this, Gabriella suddenly asked on a Saturday morning why you hadn't moved in yet, almost causing Miguel to drop the breakfast plate with scrambled eggs he had prepared. You and Miguel tried to explain that you still haven't talked about it yet, and adults can be complicated sometimes. 
Besides being Gabriella's new favorite play partner, Miguel hadn't tried to insert you into their daily routine. Not because he didn't trust you, just...Miguel just had to take things slower. His main priority would always be Gabriella, her well-being and happiness. Inserting you into their routine would make it hard for both if you and him didn't work out. And you agreed, understanding as you always were: Gabriella should always be the top priority. 
As it happened on one of your previous dates when the nanny called, informing Gabriella had gotten a sudden fever and had puked once. You urged Miguel to leave, telling him you would solve everything at the restaurant. Miguel was so surprised when you appeared in the house thirty minutes late, still dressed in your date clothes, with anxious eyes on the little girl in his arms. You stayed that night, ensuring to leave only after Gabriella's fever got down as she slept in your arms - when she heard your voice, she opened her arms begging for you to hold her.
Gabriella was already too attached, and Miguel was too much in love. That's why he was still unsure when he asked you to pick her up. 
When Miguel hears Gabriella's giggle from the backyard, his heart instantly warms. Your capacity to make her laugh made him jealous before. Now, it only makes him fall in love with you even harder. To think there was ever a time Miguel was terrified of what would happen if Gabriella didn't like you. 
He follows his favorite sound in the world, his body relaxing. You two seem to be playing tag: Gabriella never seems to catch you, but she doesn't seem to mind just having fun as you run away in the middle of his vast backyard, both barefoot. Miguel slowly joins his daughter, kneeling on her side as she hugs him tightly, all sweaty. "Papi! We are playing a tag game." 
"I noticed." 
"I don't seem to be able to tag back, though," Gabriella replies, confused in her innocence. As if she could with her small legs. You are still turned around from them, probably catching your breath, unaware of Miguel's presence yet. An idea pops on his mind.
"Tag me." 
"What?" 
"Tag me." Miguel offers his hand, opening a smile. Gabriella opens a big grin, tagging him.
"So, have you given up, Gabi?" You, still in the middle of the backyard, turn around with a playful smile. It completely disappears from your face as you watch Gabriella tag Miguel instead, your boyfriend slowly raising. A dangerous smile on his lips warning you to run.  
You only have one second to react, too slow already, as Miguel starts sprinting in your direction as Gabriella encourages him, excited. Your lungs complain as you run away from him, feeling Miguel hot at your heels. It is the only time you will probably curse his long and strong legs.
You give a quick look over your shoulder, panicking. Miguel has that intense, wild look in his eyes, the one you see when he is determined to get what he wants: to get you. You ignore how your body feels and wonder if you shouldn't just jump in the pool (what a joke, Miguel was a great swimmer as well). 
"Behind you." It is the last thing you hear before Miguel pounces on you, managing to do it gently to a round of cheers from Gabriella. 
You both fall to the floor, and Miguel turns you around with a frown. "Were you going to jump in the pool?" 
"Who, me? Nooo. So you could swim and catch me?!" 
"Liar! You were about to jump in the pool!"
"As a distraction, only! You would have jumped straight after me anyway."
"Oh, I would have." He is serious, you know that.
With his body thoroughly pressed against yours, you hug him, "Missed you. How was work?" 
“Terrible. As always.”
"As always." You agree, watching his expression change. Miguel suddenly becomes aware of how your body is pressed against his, feeling the blood rush to his cheeks. He tries to get away from you, but you don't let him, your arms locking him down, a malicious smile on your face.
"Don't…"
"I am not doing anything." 
"Not in front of-"
"Miguel, I am not doing anything!" You giggle, the sensation of a victory spreading against your chest. "You know, I wouldn't do anything in front of-"
You both look toward where Gabriela was standing before to find nothing there. Before you two can even untangle, Gabriella jumps on her father's back, startling you both. 
"Tag!" 
She immediately jumps away, giggling as she runs inside the house. Miguel sighs, not before your hand cups his cheek so you can look at him. "I will keep her company. It is fine."
"I don't want to impose-" 
"Miguel, it is not an imposition. She likes me better anyway."
Miguel gets up from the floor, helping you stand as you watch Gabriella hide behind the sofa, her messy hair and eyes peeking out.
"Are you going to…stay?" Miguel wonders, his tone soft. 
"Of course I will. Maybe we can repeat this tag game after Gabriella is asleep?" You offer, bluntly teasing him. "With much less clothes."
You smirk, watching Miguel's mouth drop open. Gabriella calls your name again and you give him a peck on the cheek, before running away to her direction. 
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thecatundertheladder · 14 hours
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how about fsm's and lloyds first meeting in the fsm lives au?
First of all thank you so much for asking!!! I had a lot of fun writing this even if took ages. Right so I haven't completely figured out when the ninja actually meet Fsm, but I'll get to that later. I do have a rough timeline so probably in between seasons five and six (Possession will obviously get retconned a lot). Garmadon is alive btw.
Lloyd had never really made the connection between his grandfather and the First Spinjitzu Master. Like sure he knew it logically, but there was a real difference between 'my grandfather is the First Spinjitzu Master' and 'the First Spinjitzu Master is my grandfather'. And besides, the guy was dead, as far as he could tell, so it didn't really matter other than 'hey I inherited cool powers and also his arch nemesis'. Honestly, the only things Lloyd knew about his grandfather were that he invented spinjitzu, used the golden weapons to create Ninjago, fought the Overlord, and he had two kids, who happened to be Lloyd's dad and uncle.
So naturally it was quite a shock when one day at breakfast Wu announced that his father was coming to visit in a few days.
What resulted from that statement was a rather long and, uh, productive (not really) conversation (a very loud debate).
Cole: What?! But he’s supposed to be dead! Kai: No no one of my village elders said he just left this realm and would return when we need him most. Morro: Nah grandpa just does whatever he likes. Though he was in another realm last time I checked, at least that's right. Jay: What the fuck does that even mean?!
That ,of course, sparked a whole other debate about why Morro knew that. It got sorted out in the end, eventually, after a few thrown noodle bowls.
But while the others seemed to calm down after that, Lloyd steadily got more anxious. Because this was his grandfather, the man who had created Ninjago itself, and fought the Overlord the first time. Yes, Lloyd had done that as well, but what if he didn’t met his grandfather's expectations? What if he was disappointed in him?
Morro, on the other hand, was pretty excited to see his grandpa again; it had been two years, and despite Morro taking advantage of Fsm's omniscience to inform him about various coming and goings, he hadn’t had an actual conversation, and he had a lot of things to show him as well. But Lloyd had seemed pretty anxious since Wu’s announcement, so, like any good older cousin, Morro cornered him on the way to breakfast.
Morro: What’s up with you? You’ve been anxious ever since dad told us grandpa was coming here. Lloyd, mumbling: What if I don't live up to his expectations? Morro: Huh? Lloyd, louder: What if he's disapointed in me? Morro: As someone who's actually meet him, his expectations are don't die, and don't kill innocent people. Pretty low expectations if you ask me. You'll be fine.
This makes Lloyd feel a bit better, but he's still anxious, and he refuses to talk to anyone else about it because, to him at least, it seems a bit dumb to be anxious about meeting his grandfather when no else is (they are, Lloyd just hasn't noticed).
Anyway fast forward to The Day of The Arrival. Lloyd gets up earlier than usual in order to mentally prepare himself for meeting God. And, since he's expecting to have a few hours before the First Spinjitzu Master arrives, he doesn't really bother to make himself presentable before making his way to the kitchen.
This was a mistake.
Because when lloyd enters the kitchen there's man(?) sitting at the table wearing a black kimono with gold detailing. And Lloyd's first though is 'fuck, its the First Spinjitzu Master' before he realises that the man (? seriously why is it so hard to tell) is in his late thirties at most. So Lloyd's next thought is 'why is this random person in my kitchen?'
Lloyd, suspicious: Who are you and why are you here? Fsm, smiling: I'm your grandfather, and I'm your grandfather. Lloyd: You can't be my grandfather! You're like thirty! Fsm: I am not thirty, I'm a shapeshifter. Fsm, now vaguely concerned: You didn’t know that? Why didn’t you know that?
So, luckily, Fsm, by being themself, manages to almost completely allay Lloyd’s anxiety by getting up, telling Lloyd to follow him, and going to find both his children so they can smack them on the head because come on you two this is Morro all over again (Fsm can't really talk though, his godly domain should really be 'forgetting to tell people important information'). Because he can understand Morro not knowing that Fsm - and subsequently their descendants - isn’t human, but Lloyd is actually related!
Lloyd, meanwhile, is shocked. God, his grandfather, is in his house, looking all of thirty, and stalking through the monastery all while grumbling under his breath about his kids not telling Lloyd something, all while Lloyd trails behind him like a lost fawn.
It’s then Lloyd remembers his pyjamas and bed hair, and he just, internally cringes. Like, c'mon, this is the First Spinjitzu Master, and here he is looking like he just got out of bed (that he actually did just get out of bed is completely pointless in Lloyd’s mind). But something about this thought process must have shown in his face and body language (never mind that Lloyd is behind his grandfather), because suddenly the First Spinjitzu Master (man Lloyd really has to get his name) is turning around, stopping Lloyd in his tracks.
Fsm: Stop that. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I am 25,000 years old, and I have raised two children, I have seen a lot worse than bed hair.
That makes Lloyd blush, but his grandfather is already on the move again, seeking out his children.
Of course, once Fsm does find their children, Lloyd has the pleasure of finding out that his grandfather his half oni, half dragon (“dragoni”, his father says, “easier on the tongue”).
But once Lloyd processes that he’s not fully human (and, like in the show, he’s pretty calm about because it makes a lot of sense when he actually thinks about) he starts to bond with his grandpa and damn the First Spinjitzu Master is not anything like he expected him to be, but honestly, Lloyd is actually kinda relieved about that. He’s a lot more approachable than Lloyd expected, and it seems he’s where Wu and Garmadon got the more, um, eccentric sides of their personalities. Lloyd is still a bit nervous around him, but that slowly goes away over the few weeks that Fsm is staying for.
Throughout those weeks, Lloyd kinda starts to get comfortable around Fsm. Lloyd shows Fsm a bunch of video games (I've decided this includes Minecraft because, listen, Fsm would be great at Minecraft (specifically creative mode) and you can't tell me otherwise), as well as board games, which leads to the interesting revelation that Mystake (Mystake?! Who runs the tea shop?!) banned Fsm from playing uno a few months after it come out because he tackled someone after he had to pick up 16 cards.
Hope you enjoyed!
But yeah I’ll probably do a separate post for the family bonding.
Also I feel like I need to give fsm a proper name at this point. I’ve been calling them imaragami (ih-ma-rah-gar-mi) since I started thing this whole idea up but tbh it’s just a bunch of random syllables put together (I’m kinda attached to it at this point tho). But anyway what do you think?
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yamayuandadu · 2 days
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What is your opinion on the article "Mesopotamian or Iranian? A New Investigation on the Origin of the Goddess Anāhitā" by Alireza Qaderi?
He proposes that Anahita is possibly the syncretism of an Iranian Water goddess with Annunitum, and while it largely makes a lot of sense to me, especially with how it points out that we can't treat the Avesta as we know it as identical to the Avesta in Zarathustra's time, it also assumes the Central Asian goddess Ardokhsho comes from Aredvi Sura instead of Arti, and everything else I've seen just says Ardokhsho comes from Arti, although I haven't seen much literature on either deity tbh
Sorry it took me a few days to answer this ask even though it’s basically laser focused on my interests. I had some other stuff to read and unpleasant work duties to perform and couldn’t properly go through the recommended paper.
My feelings about the paper are mixed. I think anyone who remembers Annunitum was a distinct deity as early as in the late third millennium BCE deserves at least some credit. The notion of interchangeability of goddesses still haunts the field, fueled by Bible scholars, Helsinki hyperdiffusionists and the like. Overall the author shines in the sections dedicated only to the evaluation of the broadly Iranian material, but as soon as the focus switches to Mesopotamia things fall apart, sadly. More under the cut. Hope you don’t mind that I’ll also use this as an opportunity to talk about Annunitum in Sippar in general. I've been gathering sources to improve her wiki article further (don’t expect that any time soon though). 
The Iranian material
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Criticizing the vintage attempts at equating Anahita with Sarasvati is sound and sensible. Same with stressing that she is distinct from Nanaya and Oxus. The criticism of theories depending on lack of familiarity with the historical range of the beaver was a nice touch too, it demonstrates well that the author wanted to cover as much previous literature as possible. However, I also have no clue what’s up with “ΑΡΔΟΧΡΟ has an ambiguous relationship with Arədvī Sūrā”, I’ve also only ever seen this name explained as a derivative of Ashi/Arti save for a single paper trying to force a link to Oxus which was met with critical responses. It’s entirely possible this is an argument I simply haven’t seen though, I’m also not really familiar with this matter.
Overall the arguments against seeking Anahita’s origin in the east are perfectly sensible, and line up with the evidence well - no issues at all with this part of the paper. Following a more detailed list of Anahita’s easter attestations from Shenkar’s Intangible spirits and graven images. She appears on some Kushano-Sasanian coins, but this seems to reflect importing her from the west relatively late on since she appears in neither Kushan nor Bactrian sources. The coins are even exclusively inscribed in Middle Persian, with no trace of the local vernacular. 
For unclear reasons Anahita caught on to a degree even further east in Sogdia, but attestations are limited to the period between fourth and sixth centuries. Since they’re largely just generic theophoric names, it is hard to call her anything but a minor deity of indeterminate character in this context, though. I’ve seen the argument that the popularity of Oxus in the east might have been the obstacle to introducing her. Oxus was a bigger deal in Bactria than in Sogdia so it could even explain why Sogdians were slightly more keen on her, arguably, even if they and Bactrians came into contact with her cult under similar circumstances.
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Back to the article, the section dealing with the western attestations starts on a pretty strong note too. The need for reevaluation if it’s fair to talk about Achaemenid rulers as “Zoroastrian” is a mainstay of studies published over the past 10-15 years or so. I can’t weigh on the linguistic arguments because I know next to nothing about that.
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I’m not sure if I follow the argument that it makes no sense Iranian population wouldn’t need a royal order to start worshipping a new deity as long as they were Iranian, tbh - linguistic or cultural affiliation doesn’t come prepackaged with automatically updated list of deities one is obliged to instantly adopt as soon as they pop up into existence. Following this logic, why didn’t Sargon’s Akkadian speaking subjects in Syria just adopt Ilaba before being obliged to do so? You will find literally hundreds of cases like this, it’s a very weird argument to me.
The Mesopotamian material
The biggest problems start once the coverage of Mesopotamia begins. The rigor evident in the strictly Iranian sections of the article just… vanishes and it’s incredibly weird. Herodotus as a source is… quite something. The phrase “ a goddess with a Semitic character” is… well, quite something too (Reallexikon generally advises against defining anything but languages as “Semitic” in Mesopotamian context - Mesopotamian is a perfectly fine label to use, and accounts for the fact that Sumerian, Hurrian and Kassite are not a part of the Semitic language family). It keeps repeating later and admittedly I’m not very fond of this. Especially when it pertains to the west of Iran, where deities originating in Mesopotamia were worshiped since the late third millennium BCE - they were more Elamite than Mesopotamian by the time Persians showed up, really. The matter is covered in detail in Wouter Henkelman’s Other Gods who Are with Adad in the Persepolis Fortification Archive as a case study.
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Cybele was by no means Mesopotamian (with each new study she keeps becoming more strictly Phrygian, with earlier Anatolian, let alone Mesopotamian, influence becoming less and less likely) so I'm not sure what she's doing here, Nanaya’s associations with lions is almost definitely an Iranian innovation and not attested before the late first millennium BCE; despite earlier sound arguments against ascribing strictly Avestan Zoroastrian sensibilities to people in the late first millennium BCE, that’s basically what happens here. Lions were evidently viewed favorably by at least some Persians and especially Bactrians and Sogdians.
The less said about the part trying to link evidence from Palmyra to Inanna and Dumuzi (what does a marginal spouse deity like Dumuzi, entirely absent from Palmyra, have to do with Sabazius, a veritable pantheon head equated with Zeus?), the better. Frazerian bit, if I have to be honest.
I’m not sure about the enthusiasm for Boyce’s argument that it makes little sense for Anahita to simultaneously be a river goddess and to bestow victory in battle. The latter characteristic lines up well with her elevation to the position of a deity tied to investiture of kings, which in turn is something which boils down to personal preference of a given dynasty. The character of deities isn’t necessarily supposed to be one-dimensional and having distinct spheres of activity because of historical factors is hardly unusual.
Stressing that it’s not possible to treat Anahita and Ishtar as interchangeable is commendable. However, I don’t think it’s possible to claim continuity between the religious beliefs reflected in the relief of Anubanini and first millennium BCE Media. The argument is not pursued further, to be fair, but it’s still weird.
The next huge issue is the treatment of the late “Anu theology”. A good recent overview of this matter can be found in Krul’s 2018 monograph (shared by the author herself here).
For starters, it’s completely baffling to declare Anu had no spouse at first; Urash and Ki are both attested in the Early Dynastic period already - and the former appears reasonably commonly in this role in literary texts and god lists. Even Antu might already be present in the Abu Salabikh list.
Attributing Inanna prominence in Uruk and in the Eanna in particular to identification with Antu is utterly nightmarish and one of the worst Inanna takes I’ve ever seen; the fact it’s contradicted by information of the same page makes it pretty funny, admittedly. Inanna’s ties to the city go back literally to the beginning of recorded history (some of the oldest texts in the world are demands aimed at cities under the control of Uruk to provide offerings for Inanna ffs), and probably even further back. Meanwhile, Anu for most of his history was an abstract hardly worshiped deity; Krul stresses this in the beginning of her book linked above. I’m not a fan of ancient matriarchy takes which are often lurking in the background when the cases of earliest city goddesses like Inanna, Nisaba and Nanshe are discussed but I do think the need to downplay Inanna’s prominence and elevate Anu which pops up every few years in scholarship is suspect and probably motivated by sexism, consciously or not, tbh. 
Trying to make the “Anu theology” which developed in the late first millennium BCE an influence on the entirety of Mesopotamia and beyond is puzzling. Sabazius appearing in Palmyra with a spouse is tied to Anu, somehow? The fact that deities had spouses is? Atargatis ties into this somehow? I’m sorry, but I’m not following. Also, Uruk was no longer a theological center of the Mesopotamian world in the first millennium BCE. Babylon was, and before that Nippur. There is no need to speculate, there are thousands of texts to back it up. The late sources from Uruk in particular show that Babylon was somewhat forcefully influencing the city, not the other way around.
The Anu theology was a display of local “nationalism” of Uruk and had a very limited impact. There is evidence for some degree of late theological cooperation between Uruk and Nippur, and possibly Der as well (Der itself despite being located with certainty has yet to be excavated, though, so caution is necessary), but nothing of this sort is to be found in the late sources from other locations.
Annunitum = Anahita?
Finally, let’s look at the core idea behind the article.
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Right off the bat I feel it’s necessary to stress Annunitum generally wasn’t regarded as an astral deity. In the Old Babylonian period, the Venus role was evidently handled by Ninsianna in Sippar; later on they aren’t even attested there but the regular Ishtar is. Seems doubtful it would actually be Annunitum who got to be an astral deity there at any point in time.
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This claim is also highly dubious. There is no evidence that Antu was ever worshiped in Sippar, let alone that she was equated there with Annunitum; she doesn’t show up at all in Jennie Myers’ 2002 thesis The Sippar pantheon: a diachronic study. Paul-Alain Beaulieu stresses her lack of importance all across Mesopotamia save for first millennium BCE Uruk here. There is also no evidence that the late Anu theology impacted Sippar in any capacity. Shamash retained his position in the city until the death of cuneiform. Even in Uruk, Annunitum in the late sources appears only in association with Ishtar and Nanaya, not Anu and Antu. I will repeat how I feel about the need to assert Anu’s importance where there is no trace of it. Overall it feels like unrelated Mesopotamian and adjacent sources from different areas and time periods are used indiscriminately; which is ironically the criticism employed in the article wrt the treatment of Iranian textual sources by other researchers. The Assyriological sources employed leave a bit to be desired, too. In particular Abusch’s Ishtar entry in the Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible is a nightmare (he’s good when he covers incantations but his broader “theological” proposals are… quite something), here are some quotes from it to show how awful it is is a central point of reference:
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Of the other authors cited, Jacobsen is Jacobsen and a lot changed since the 1960s. Roberts was criticized right after his study was published by researchers like Aage Westenholz. Langdon’s study from the early 1900s is an outdated nightmare, I guess we know what’s up with the Dumuzi hot takes now. Beaulieu is great but his papers and monographs aren’t really utilized to any meaningful extent, I feel. 
Other criticisms aside, I’m unsure if Annunitum was important enough in the fifth century BCE to be noticed by Artaxerxes II as postulated here, especially since Shamash was right next door and definitely retained some degree of prominence. Most if not all cases of Mesopotamian deities influencing Persian or broader Iranian tradition reflect widespread cults of popular deities - Nanaya, Nabu (via influence on Tishtrya), Nergal (in the west, around Harran) - as opposed to a b-list strictly local deity. And it’s really hard to refer to Annunitum differently. Let’s take a quick look at her position in the twin cities of Sippar - as far as I am aware, the most recent treatment of this matter is still Myers’ thesis, and that’s what I will rely on here. 
Annunitum is first attested in Sippar in the Old Babylonian period, during the reign of Sabium, though as a deity already locally major enough to appear in an oath formula alongside Shamash. In the Early Dynastic period Sippar-Amnanum was likely associated with an enigmatic figure designated by the logogram ÉREN+X who doesn’t seem to be related to her. When and how exactly the tutelary deity change occurred is not presently possible to determine and admittedly of no real relevance here.
Evidently Annunitum’s cult in Sippar was influenced to some degree by the Sargonic tradition she originated in, her temple was even called Eulmaš just like that in Akkad. It’s not impossible it was even originally founded by one of the members of the Sargonic dynasty, but in absence of pre-OB evidence caution is necessary. There is no shortage of later rulers who wanted to partake in the Sargonic legacy, after all. By the earliest documented times, it was the second most important temple in the Sippar agglomeration, and the only one beside the Ebabbar to have its own administrative structure. Annunitum was even referred to as the “queen of Sippar” (Šarrat Sippar; note that by the Neo-Babylonian period this title came to function as a distinct goddess, though). In Sippar-Amnanum there was a street, a gate and a canal named after her. A bit over 6% of the inhabitants of both cities bore theophoric names invoking her, also. Sippar-Amnanum was abandoned for some 200 years after the reign of Ammi-saduqa, but it seems the clergy simply moved to the other Sippar next door. Next few centuries are very sparsely documented at this site, but supposedly Shagarakti-Shuriash rebuilt Annunitum’s temple (the matter is discussed in detail here).
Inscriptions of Tiglath-pileser I dealing with the conquest of northern Babylonia affirm that Annunitum continued to be viewed as the goddess of Sippar through the Neo-Assyrian period. According to an inscription of Nabonidus her temple, and Sippar-Amnanum as a whole, were razed by Sennacherib (he also blames “Gutians” for it though by then this is a label as generic as “barbarian”). This might be why her cult had to be relocated to the other part of Sippar again. In the Neo-Babylonian period it returned to Sippar-Amnanum under Neriglissar, though her temple was only rebuilt by Nabonidus. It survived at least until the reign of Darius, though it was only a small sanctuary (É.KUR.RA.MEŠ) like those of Adad and Gula.
There is very little evidence for popular worship of her so late on: only two theophoric names have been identified…. For comparison, Shamash appears in 208 (out of 823 theophoric names, out of a total of 1243 total). Nergal, Gula, Adad and even Amurru are all more common.  Aya is also absent, but unlike Annunitum despite her prominence in earlier periods she was actually never common in theophoric names, save for the names of naditu; and naditu ceased to be a thing after the OB period.
Offering lists complicate the matter further. From the reign of Nebuchadnezzar, Annunitum started to lose ground to a duo introduced from Dur-Kurigalzu: a manifestation of Nanaya associated with this city and Ishtar-tashme. Why they suddenly appeared in Sippar and why they overshadowed Annunitum is uncertain, perhaps Dur-Kurigalzu just failed to recover from decline after the end of the Kassite period and eventually the decision was made to start transferring local deities to other nearby major urban centers. The process reversed during the reign of Nabonidus, who ordered an increase in offerings made to her. This might’ve been motivated by his general concern for Sin and any deities considered members of his immediate family - essentially, a display of personal devotion. This elevation is still evident in offering lists from the reign of Cyrus, though.
Overall the paper is quite convincing - outstanding, even - when it comes to the Iranian material alone, and between mediocre and nightmarish once the author shifts to Mesopotamia.
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wexhappyxfew · 3 days
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Oooh, those prompts sure do look amazing… the touch one??? I’m so unsure on which one I might be in a crisis….
Soo… after muuuch deliberation, may ask about nr. 17 (holding the other’s chin up) with my girl Carrie? (I have to stay loyal to her, though I love all the other Silver Bullets girls equally)
Thank you 💖
- Carrie anon
carrie anon my apologies for how incredibly late this is (along with the other prompts sitting in the askbox lol) finals season will forever be a struggle lmao. BUT! i'm taking a mental break and here we are with a piece for my beans, carrie x dougie, carrie anon!! :D VERY excited to post this, we get a bit more with carrie's feelings as she's pretty good at hiding them (but not great with hiding them lol). so please enjoy!!
bergie doesn't strike out
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(a/n): for the carrie x dougie girlies because this prompt i enjoyed and i figured i'd add some more to carrie's background - a struggle to fit in, to feel wanted, in a time of war. yeah, she's going through it to say the least and in some way, we all can get why :'( please enjoy!
Carrie watched from behind her shot glass as James Douglass waltzed over to the congregating group of Clubmobile girls and talked his talk, pulling out his lighter and offering to light up cigarettes, only before making quite the show of winking and meandering away back towards where he had been previously stood with Hambone and Murphy. She watched him let out a barking laugh before pointing to their cups and nodding to the bar. And that's when he started waltzing over to the bar, where she was stood, rather enjoying her stare-down with her shot glass instead of having to focus on him.
"Carrie Achterbeg, haven't seen you in a minute." she heard him say as he approached - which albeit was the truth. She hadn't come out to one of these in a couple of weeks. After that awkward misunderstanding with one of the guys from the 418th - radio operator, kind eyes, but horrible ego - after he had tried to plant one on her, she didn't want anything to do with the flying club, drinks and pilots. Tonight though was different. And after those last few missions, she needed some sort of melancholy distraction, even if it were a shot or two stood alone at the bar.
"Aren't you a sight for sore ey-" Carrie glanced over at James Douglass and shoved him in the shoulder roughly before throwing back her shot and sighing.
"Don't finish that sentence." she managed out, coughing briefly and then looked at him.
"Dually noted." Dougie said, before leaning up on the bar next to her and watching the side of her face, "What's eating you?" Carrie let out a dry laugh and looked over at him.
"I should be asking you the same thing," she said, before lowering your voice, "struck out, huh?" Dougie raised a brow in her direction and she nodded over his shoulder.
"Tatty, Helen, Virginia…." Carrie said, "Christ, Dougie, you struck out and you struck out hard." Dougie rolled his eyes and leaned more against the bar and nodded to the tender.
"Struck out is a strong word to use in that sense-"
"Sure as hell is currently the right word-"
"There's other words-"
"Struck out is as good as it comes." Carrie said to him and he took the beer from the tender and sighed, before taking a long sip. She watched him for a moment, biting the inside of her lip and then glanced back at her empty shot glass.
She was just punchy, she wasn't in the best of moods, and James Douglass was beginning to grow on her in ways she hadn't expected nor entirely wanted. And her mind was trying to ignore it.
"Why haven't you been coming recently?" Dougie asked her as he casually sipped on his beer, eyes wandering out to the dance floor and then back to her, before grinning wide, "Hambone's been missing ya." Carrie sighed and then stood up straighter and pushed her hair behind her ears and glanced at him.
"Personal choice." she said and then shrugged as she looked out towards the dance floor again, "You missing me, too? You seemed real tangled up with those guys over there. Surprised you came over to say hello." She raised a brow at him and he shrugged her off. Watching him, she then turned, only to be stopped by his arm jutting out.
"Where you going?"
"Just taking a lap around," she said with a shrug, "talk to some people I haven't seen before, ya know, get eyes on everyone." He watched her, a mixture of adornment it seemed and surprise, as she straightened her jacket and then looked at him.
"Everything look good?" she asked him, holding out her arms like she was about to go off on her first day at school and wanted her uniform in check. Dougie held her gaze for a moment before he let his eyes wash down her form and then back up to her face again. Carrie watched him, her collar turning hot as he took a slow sip and let his eyes rest on hers again, that lazy smile growing on his face as he nodded.
"Good is a strong word-"
"Dougie, don't you dare." Carrie muttered, a small smile growing on her face as she shoved at his shoulder, and repositioned herself, hands on her hips and sighed, "Seriously." For a moment, they just watched each other and it should've felt awkward, but in all actuality - it wasn't. And knowing that he was looking at her that fondly almost made her want to stay and talk to him more. But she wasn't like that it seemed.
"You look great," Dougie said, his voice strained as he nodded, "don't let none of those fools do anything funny, alright?" Now, it was Carrie's turn to let out a laugh and raise her brow.
"Since when did you care?" she asked quickly, crossing her arms, "'Cause three weeks ago, I had that stupid radio operator from the 418th practically down my throat and you barely batted an eye." A few onlookers glanced towards the two and it took Carrie a few moments to recognize how loud she had gotten and suddenly emotional in her words. And why did she care if Dougie had barely batted an eye? He shouldn't have needed to. They weren't technically even friends, just a joke or two here and there, some teasing and good-natured tomfoolery, but nothing more. Why did she care that he should care? Carrie sighed. Dougie looked up at her with those big, slightly worried eyes and bit back his lip before nodding.
"Well, now that you've made me aware of that, maybe I will bat an eye next time." Dougie said, looking up at her as his fingers danced against the cool mug of beer, "Who the hell was it?" Carrie stared at him and then blinked slowly.
"It doesn't matter-"
"That's why you didn't come-"
"Dougie-"
"Because he had-"
"Dougie." Carrie said, stepping closer to him, and holding his gaze right in her own, her hand ghosting over his arm as if to latch onto him, but failing to do so, "Let it go. It's over now."
"You brought it up." Dougie said back quickly, but she stopped him with a shake of the head. But then she stood quiet for a moment and let her thoughts grow. She had brought it up. Almost as if she had wanted him to know. Because no one had known. Because she'd been embarrassed that she let herself think that maybe that was a good guy, someone she could live a life with and all he had wanted was a kiss. It was a stupid thought.
"Who was it, Carrie, seriously?" Dougie asked her as she balled up her fists and looked anywhere but his face, which she knew had a look on it that would make her lose it, "A guy from the 418th, huh? He ever heard about a thing called messing with the bull, you damn well be getting the horns-"
"Shh, keep your voice down!" Carrie muttered, bringing a finger in front of her mouth and looking at him with wide eyes, "He was just some jackass that thought I was there to have a good time and that was it." Dougie grew quiet as he watched her. Whatever it was between them seemed to simmer and they both seemed to understand in that minute what she meant. But she wouldn't dare actually say why she had even bothered kissing the guy, or why Dougie was looking at her like that.
"He didn't do anything to you, did he?" Dougie said, his voice softer than it normally was, that look in his eye deeper and darker, "I know a guy-"
"No." Carrie said, her cheeks scarlet, "It was just a stupid kiss, that's it. It's over. I just….I was trying to avoid the situation again and…." She trailed off. She was over talking about it to be completely honest. She looked up at him.
"I'm fine." she said with an honest nod, "Thank you for your…..concern." Dougie watched her, with a slow nod and licked his lips, like he was still digesting her words in their entirety. He didn't say much, he just watched her and she didn't entirely want to complain about that because for one, his eyes were some of the kindness she'd probably seen on this side of the world. And for once, they were eyes that looked at her in a way other guys didn't.
"Just…go have some fun," Dougie said quietly, "give me a look if a guy does something stupid, alright?" And she nodded and looked up at him, as he smiled softly at her, his eyes darting over her own endless blue ones, an abyss of dampened sea and darkened souls. Lost and harrowing. He leaned forward a bit and lowered his voice.
"Don't strike out." he said with a small chuckle and she looked up at him and brought her pointer finger underneath his chin and prodded him lightly to meet her gaze, before whispering back just as quietly.
"Bergie doesn't strike out."
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