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astralnymphh · 6 months

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ROBINS EGG BLUE

⤹ . moments with domestic!ellie x pregnant!reader

WC; 1.07k

⤹ . content; fluff, lovey–dovey, may cause baby fever or heartwarmed tears to swell, reader discretion is advised ౨ৎ

pregnancy is infuriating as not being able to comb your hair thoroughly. there is always a fat fucking knot to stem the fluid moment thereof– just as there lies a fat, fleshy boulder fastened to your stomach for a gruelingly long nine months. the bulge of your belly button has witnessed most of three seasons, and you weren't buoyantly idling around for the fourth to appear. this baby– this little devil, needs to get the hell out of dodge.

from the chagrin of a pair of jeans failing to button at the hips, straining the seams as you pull that fly parallel to your mother yanking the poor hairs from your scalp with a paddle brush– to the fleeting aggro nearby popping a blood vessel you feel when arguing with your wife, ellie, about some nonsensical, fruitless or futile dispute about what wallpaper pattern best suits the small dimensions of the nursey– pink and pearl striped with roses or robins egg blue and beige striped with roses, ellie continuously states "they're basically the same baby, i don't see what all the fuss is about." or whether ellie should throw in a batch of dino nuggets or regular nuggets cause the taste totally isn't the same, the shape definitely impacts how salty it is to your tongue, illogical banters.

but ellie will still be your loving, selfless, fond, and doting wife. your number one. apple of your eye. stupid auburn–haired heartthrob. you name it. through thick and thin of your expanding belly, she will always be the first palm to greet your baby in the morning, plastering her blanket–hot hand just beneath your navel and pressing her sweat damp fingerprints dimpling into your stomach, bending her index lightly into the petunia purple stretchmarks that vertically dip into your hips, waiting for minutes in the virgin sun morning for your baby to kick. literally, she has abandoned her old forenoon routine just to feel that first thump on her hand. and when it finally does happen, a little pounce vibrating beneath her palm lines– her fingers twitch lightly and a smile immediately crafts upon her rose lips, purring excitedly upon the fringe of your ear, words that only your snoozing brain with hark, "huh, see? he knows who his mama is– told ya."

but, ahh, stretchmarks.

she adores those little lightning marks lacing your belly– you on the other hand, thought the contrary, to which that husky fry would remind you, "ts' cause y'gotta baby growing in there, yeah? ours." flowing past the pouty berry lips so adamant on plowing kisses to the span of your scruff, ghosting them dry over the fine threadlike hairs with a pitched promise to never let you– or your belly go.

or, goddess, that one time ellie insisted you sit on the couch while she played her acoustic guitar, denting her fingertips with the strings as she plucks, subtly leaning the bay oak instrument closer to your belly so the baby would pick up those hollowed notes vibrating through the air. the fattest smirk would mushroom those cheeks to hug her nose– grooving those nasal lines to encase the thin curve of a smile, deepening at the corners. you even recall the dorkiest shit ever, how it carried to your ears out of the blue and left you pinching brow lines of amusement, "gonna' play this lil' guy guitar everyday– hey, d'ya think if i do that, he'll come out already knowing how to play?" spoken on a smokey chord, glancing up at you through lashes slightly downturned due to her facing the belly, directly. you told her with a sigh, "ellie, that is not how it works." dumbly smirking back, and she replied, "what? c'mon, maybe if i play electric, he'll be born a rockstar!" squeezing her voice with silly enthusiasm. a roll of your head cracks your neck, dangling back to barb, "you are ten times the idiot than you were yesterday." cause, well, she's constantly spewing the dopiest ideas. next thing you knew, she was rasping, "m'your fuckin' idiot." that cheesy motherfucker, slinking her guitar off the round of her thigh and stowing it at the sofa's footing, lurking forward on all fours to tackle your belly with bespattering kisses, moist and fiendish as ever.

infuriating was the task of putting socks on. fucking socks. the effortless effort that would usually clock you under ten seconds, moreso felt like ten eons. "ughh!" you would grunt from the depths of your compact lungs, extending two zombie arms over the blockage of your portly belly, perking the ears of ellie who was just in the abutting room, walls thin enough to bombard with sound. she whips around the door trim, leaning her lank weight away from it and cocking her head, distinguishing the predicament you had landed two feet in. a dry chuckle sounds from yonder the room, trailed by her honeyed resound, "need sum' help babe?" which, to her, falls to strike as a question– au contraire, soft, padded footsteps of feet who already had socks on, lucky them, carries ellie over and at your side, crouching with her knees splayed apart like bird's wings, raising hands to politely creep fingers under yours, prying the cottony ball from your grasp and craning it to her chest, sidling in her squat so that she would be an eyeshot vis–à–vis to you, at your beckon practically.

you remained silent, doused in the soft moment before you, yet a little embarrassed you couldn't do it yourself. a raspy, "here's one.." croaks from her throat prior to a hand cupping the ribbed underside of your ankle, tamping it gently into her chest so she could unfurl the sock and roll it up your foot, hedging your toes first with the linty fabric and laying it up the heel, letting the band snap in place– and her fingertips lingered at the ankle, caressing the nub for only a twinkle in time. "and the second one.." she scoops up the other foot, repeating the same tedious tenderness she gave to your other, gliding her hand from your ankle to your knee as she stood up, plating a pressure to the top of your thigh as she leans in, lips first, uttering, "there you go," smacking a puckered kiss to your stagnant lips, whispering upon them, "m'comin' to the bathroom with you. wanna hold him for a bit."

not even wild wolves could tear ellie from your baby, her baby.

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joeys-babe · 6 months

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Joey B Imagines: Get It On*

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summary: after a road game win in San Francisco, you know Joe’s gonna be in a certain mood when he gets home. you had stayed in Cincinnati with your twin boys and Joe couldn't wait to celebrate the win with you. Being able to predict that, you decide to play a little prank on Joe.

warnings: talks of and illusions to smut, mostly fluff, funny/unserious

pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

imagine universe: into the mystic

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Bye week - October 18th (with flashbacks from October 15th & 12th)

(y/n’s pov)

The bye week was something I had been looking forward to since week one.

With the calf strain before the season even started it had been a little harder for Joe to get into the groove. He’s been more down on himself than normal and it was clear to me that he needed rest which is exactly what a week off would give him.

When Joe was home with me and the twins he wasn't Joe Burrow the quarterback for the Cincinnati Bengals, he was simply “Dada” to his boys and “Joey” to me.

He loved it, being away from the bustle of the NFL and being with his little family.

After a morning of sleeping in and cuddling, Joe cooked breakfast while I watched the twins, who were playing on the floor with their toys while sitting on their playmat.

They had just said their first words within a week of each other, both saying “Dada”. I thought I would've been jealous if my boys said Daddy, Dad, or Dada first but the situations in which they said it were so sweet that I couldn't have been upset.

The boy’s first game was at home against the Seahawks a few days ago. I sat up in the box with Robin & Jimmy plus my boys.

Tyson was sitting on Robin’s lap while I had Miles on mine. Joe ran out and Robin bounced Tyson on her lap saying “Look there's Dada!!” to which Tyson loudly squealed and cooed his first word in response to his grandma.

“Da-da!”

I hurt my neck with how fast it snapped in his direction from pure shock.

Miles said it just a few days before after Joe came home from practice.

Joe walked through the door and immediately found me in the kitchen feeding the boys. He walked over and kissed my cheek before turning his direction to his boys. Miles was reaching out to his dad and Joe immediately picked him up.

“Did you miss daddy?” - you smiled

“Da.. Da!” - Miles

Watching Joe’s eyes widen before he tossed Miles in the air was the sweetest sight.

“Thats my boy!!” - Joe yelled

Now back to the present day, Joe was in the floor with the twins passing around this tiny foam football. “Teach ‘em early” Joe would say.

I sat scrolling through Tiktok when a funny video came up on my fyp of this wife pranking her husband by lighting a candle that smelled like farts and putting it in their bedroom, after seeing the husband's reaction I immediately ordered the candle in hopes to do the same prank on Joe.

I had to laugh as I glanced over my phone at the unsuspecting victim. This was going to be hilarious.

October 29th - After 49ers game

Everyone seemed on cloud nine after the win over the Niners. I stayed back in Cincinnati with the twins while Joe was in San Fran. My parents ended up coming over to watch the game and overall it was a good day.

It wasn't long after the boys went back to the locker room that I received a text from Joe.

Hey mama.

To other people, it might seem like an innocent text, but to me, after all these years with Joe, I knew where this was headed.

Hey, champ!

A couple of seconds later when Joe replied back, I couldn't help but bust out laughing.

Whatcha wearing rn? 😏

I looked down at my current fit and thought about whether I should tell the truth or lie to please him.

Nothing special. Just a pair of your sweatpants and one of your Bengals shirts.

I got worried when he didn't message back for a minute or so, worried that I had disappointed him.

Sounds sexy.

Boy. 💀

Listen, I'm feeling really good right now. I gotta go shower but I'll text you when we're on the bus to the airport.

Talk to ya later then! Enjoy your shower, baby.

Ttyl, love you. ❤️

Love you too!

After I hit send, I put my phone down for a bit and ushered my parents out of the house. I’d hopefully get a shower, get the boys to sleep, and clean the house up a bit before Joe got home.

He'd definitely be getting home late but after big road game wins that would end in a long night for the both of us.

This also meant that tonight would be the perfect night to use something that I ordered back during the bye.

What was that you may ask?

A candle that smells like farts.

Now I’m not a big prankster but I will never pass up an opportunity to mess with Joe, it's been like that since we started dating in high school.

45 minutes later I had gotten most of the dishes washed in the sink, along with putting the clean dishes from the dishwasher up, and moved on to folding and putting away laundry.

It was always fun putting Joe’s clothes back up in our walk-in closet due to how diverse and unique each article was.

I saw the different suits and past game-day fits as a reminder of all of the ups and downs Joe and I have been through together.

Moving over to hang up his favorite grey jeans, in the corner of my eye I caught a view of the jacket Joe wore the day of the AFC Championship back in 2022. That was the same night Joe proposed to me and the thought made me smile. When the memory of what had happened later that night popped into my mind my once-innocent smile turned into more of a smirk. That was one goooood night.

My thoughts ended up interrupted when my phone dinged but seeing Joe’s name being the source of the tone made my smile reappear.

How’s my wife and my boys doing?

One of Joe’s biggest worries, since we found out I was pregnant, was him not being around enough for his kids to have a good relationship with their father. Every away game Joe seemed to check up on his little family every chance he got and though it was incredibly sweet, I worried about how he thought about himself parent-wise. He was an amazing dad, the boys loved him so much

We're doing great, baby. Your boys are already asleep and your wife is just cleaning around the house right now.

We should be home in a few hours but don't feel like you have to wait up for me, it'll be late.

I'm def waiting for him, I thought to myself with a laugh.

Okay! Are the guys all feeling good after the win?

Oh yeah, everyone is hyped right now. They're blaring music and have asked the bus driver to take a detour to the nearest club twice. LOL

You guys should go! Y’all need to celebrate.

It took a few minutes for Joe to respond but when he did, his message warmed my heart.

No thanks. That would just take time away from getting home to you guys. I miss you and the boys so much.

We miss you too. Especially the boys, who kept yelling “Daddy!” every time you were on the TV.

When I read Joe’s reply it was a complete mood shift, but I can't say I wasn't expecting it.

Did you also yell Daddy when I was on the TV?

Omg, Joe!

You'll be saying that again later, baby. 😉

Big wins always put Joe in this mindset but I couldn't help but giggle at his forward texts.

I was brainstorming what to say next when I remembered a little photoshoot I did the other day when Joe was away at practice. These pics would get him worked up for sure.

The pictures were of me fresh out of the shower in the mirror with nothing but his jersey and a tiger-striped thong on. The jersey was hiked up on my hip to where the panties were visible but my phone covered my face, the star of the show was the huge “9” on my front.

*Attachmentt 3 images*

When a few minutes had passed by and Joe hadn’t said anything back I started to get worried. He's on the bus right now... what if someone else saw the pics? Oh no.

If someone else saw those Joe’d be pissed. Oh no.

Holy shit, mama. You look fucking gorgeous.

Oh thank God, I thought.

You like what you see?

Screw like, I damn love it. Those pics are just for me, right?

Your eyes only, J. ❤️

I had no idea what was going on with Joe other than his texts, so I was completely oblivious to him struggling to contain himself in front of the guys.

You don't understand how much I'm struggling right now.

Struggling how Joey?

I knew exactly how he was struggling but I wanted him to come out and say it.

I'm getting so fucking hard. The last thing I need is the guys seeing a tent in my damn sweats.

Just a couple pics got you worked up?

y/n, baby how do you still not understand how much you turn me on after all this time?

Idk, Joe.

Plus baby it's not just the pics you sent me, it's also thinking about what's bound to happen when I get home.

What's that?

I'm gonna get you naked and show you exactly why you wear number nine. Sound good?

Can't wait.

We're boarding the plane, I'll see you later my love.

See you later, Joey.

*time skip*

It was almost two in the morning and there was still no sign of Joe. I was starting to get tired and was genuinely considering just going to bed.

Rolling over onto my side to get comfortable, I had just closed my eyes when I heard the garage door opening. Meaning Joe was home.

I removed the covers from my body and slipped out of bed, running my hands over the front of my satin nightgown to flatten it out before going downstairs.

By the time I made it into the mudroom, where the door that connects the garage to the house is, Joe was already there taking his shoes off.

“Hey baby.” - you smiled

Joe flinched before he found my eyes, his gaze softening as he did so.

“Shit babe, you scared me.” - Joe laughed

“Sorry, how was the plane ride?” - you

“It was fine, everyone was pretty much asleep so I just sat there on my phone… thinking about you.” - Joe

“Is that so?” - you giggled

“Yes ma'am. I missed you like hell.” - Joe

I opened my arms for him and he immediately walked over into my embrace. His arms wrapped tightly around my waist as my hands ran up and down his muscular back.

Joe leaned down and pressed a kiss to my lips before letting his hands drop from my lower back down to my butt.

“The boys still asleep?” - Joe

“Mhm.” - you

“Just us then, wanna go upstairs?” - Joe

“Before we do that… when was the last time you ate?” - you

“I ate this morning and had some snacks on the plane. I'm low-key starving but I made a promise to you about what was happening when I got home.” - Joe

Pulling away from his arms, I pecked his lips before patting his stomach.

“Let's get some food in you, then you can fulfill your promise.” - you winked at him

Joe grinned as he followed me into the kitchen, he sat on one of the barstools as I looked in the fridge.

“What do you want?” - you

“You.” - Joe mumbled

“What was that?” - you turned to face him

Joe smirked at me before dropping his head with a laugh.

“Nothin. Uh, whatcha got?” - Joe

“I've got leftover chicken and noodles, sandwich stuff, bacon for a BLT…” - you

“Chicken and noodles are fine.” - Joe

“Okay, I'll heat that for ya.” - you

I popped the container into the microwave and made my way over to Joe, laying my head on his shoulder.

“Sorry if I'm kinda clingy, I just missed you.” - you

“Don't ever apologize for wanting to be close to me, baby.” - Joe’s hand moved to cradle your head

Just a few seconds before the timer went off, I stopped is as to not wake up the twins with the loud ding.

After handing Joe his food with a kiss on the cheek, I walked upstairs.

I told Joe that I went up there to finish cleaning up but in reality, I was lighting the candle. The directions said that it would smell like vanilla for the first 30 minutes, then it would gradually start to smell bad.

Once it was in a sufficient spot I made my way back downstairs. Joe was in the same spot he was when I left but now he was just in his grey sweatpants as he ate and scrolled on his phone.

The floorboards creaked before I was completely in the kitchen and Joe looked behind him to make sure it was just me.

“You look incredibly beautiful in that nightgown by the way.” - Joe

“Well thank you, a special someone bought it for me.” - you

“A special someone?” - Joe gave you a confused/agitated look

“You bought it for me you goof.” - you laugh

“Oh!” - Joe laughed

We shared small talk as he finished eating. Talking about dinner for the rest of the week, the grocery list, just little things.

Joe abruptly stood up and walked over to the sink to wash the Tupperware his chicken and noodles were in. My eyes couldn't seem to peak away from his body, his back muscles flexed with every scrub he made making me feel hot all over.

He grabbed a towel and was now facing me as he dried the dish, my eyes still drawn to the veins protruding from his hands and arms.

After it was dry to his liking he put it up and the cabinet and sat back down on the stool next to me.

With a longing glance at each other, Joe swiftly grabbed my waist and pulled me off my stool and onto his lap. My hands landed on his chest as his mouth was immediately on mine.

Joe’s hands gripped my hips and slowly slid down to my thighs.

“You still got that tiger-striped thong on?” - Joe

He was grinning up at me as his hands slowly slid under my nightgown. His eyes turned dark when his fingertips reached my hips and he hadn't felt a band.

“No panties?” - Joe’s voice dropped an octave

“No, sir.” - you

“Fuck, y/n…” - Joe groaned

I felt Joe’s hand start moving down toward my inner thigh and I had to stop him. The confused look on his face made me giggle.

“Can we do it more… vanilla tonight?” - you

“Oh yeah, that's okay with me. Whatever you want baby, I'll give you.” - Joe

“Okay… now where were we?” - you

Joe moved his hands back to my waist and stood up, my legs instinctively wrapping around his waist.

He started up the stairs, taking them two at a time as he continued kissing me.

Joe’s pace changed as we passed by the twin’s room to make sure the sound of us rushing to the bedroom wouldn't wake them up.

Once in the bedroom, Joe shut the door and moved to lay me down on the bed.

“Did you light a candle for mood lighting?” - Joe grinned

“Guilty.” - you laughed

Joe laughed along with me as he climbed on top of me. The candlelight accentuated the soft features of his face and enhanced them, he looked even more ridiculously beautiful than he already was.

The faint smile on his face melted my heart as he admired me.

“Gosh… I love you so much y/n.” - Joe

I reached up and combed his curls back with my hand before slowly moving my hand lower to stroke his cheek.

“I love you too, Joe. So so much.” - you

Joe gently pressed our lips together. We engaged in a thorough, slow-burn kiss, that had my toes curling in my fluffy socks.

Very slowly, Joe’s hands moved from my sides and back up my nightgown. He started gently inching it up my body as his lips never left mine.

Once it was completely off my body, Joe disengaged his lips from mine to pull it over my head. The only thing I was left in was my bra.

“You are so… beautiful. Unbelievably beautiful. You're just… breathtaking y/n.” - Joe

His eyes scanned over my body with so much love behind them. I wanted nothing more than to lean over and blow the candle out, knowing It was going to ruin this intimate moment but it was too late.

Joe’s once content face was scrunched up in disgust as he abruptly rolled off of me.

“What the fuck is that?” - Joe

“What do you mean? Did I do something?” - you

“I don't think so… unless. Babe, did you fart? If you did…. goddamn!” - Joe

“Joseph Lee! I did not let one rip while we were trying to get it on!” - you

Joe tried so hard not to cackle but ultimately failed, his nose re-scrunching when he took a big inhale.

“What the actual hell is that putrid smell then, I know for sure it wasn't me! That smells so bad that if it was me I'd be in the bathroom right now.” - Joe

I giggled to myself as Joe hopped off the bed and started smelling around the room.

“Joe baby, you look like a damn bloodhound smelling around like that.” - you hollered laughing

“Well, I'm trying to find whatever the fuck that is so I can get rid of it! I'm not going to bed until I get some sugar.” - Joe

My laughing only got louder as Joe dropped to his knees and started looking under the bed for the source of the stink.

“Maybe there's a dirty pull-up under here…” - Joe grumbled

I rolled off the bed and grabbed a pair of Joe’s boxers that were clean and in his pile of laundry before slipping them on and walking over to his nightstand.

“Baby get off the floor.” - you

“Hold on! I think I'm getting close!” - Joe

“Joe! Get up! It's the candle!” - you laughed

Joe suddenly stood up and looked at me with a confused look on his face.

“How is it the candle? It says vanilla?” - Joe

He walked over to me and I plugged my nose before blowing it out and moving it toward his nose.

Joe looked at me hesitantly before leaning down and smelling the freshly melted wax. He immediately jumped back and gagged at the terrible stench as I seemed t never stop laughing.

“God bless!” - Joe

“I pranked you pretty good huh babe?” - you

“That was not funny at all, and now our room smells terrible. Looks like there's no sex on the menu tonight.” - Joe pouted

The way he exaggeratedly pushed his bottom lip out in a frown had me grinning. I got on my tiptoes and repeatedly pecked his lips till his pout turned into a small smile.

“We can sleep on the couch and watch movies tonight.” - you smiled

I watched Joe’s smile fall back into a pout as he pressed his hips against my thigh, reminding me of his dilemma.

The unamused look on my face only made him more whiney as multiple “please y/n” fell from his lips.

“Here, how about we get in the shower and I suck you off at the end. Would that make you happy?” - you sighed

“No. I don't want pity head.” - Joe grumbled

“Boy please you know pity head doesn't exist in this relationship.” - you smirked

Joe’s frown once again turned into a smile as he took my hand and led us into the bathroom.

Once both of us stripped naked and got in the shower, Joe got his head before he pressed me against the shower and finally got what he'd been craving since the game ended.

After we cleaned each other off and hopped out of the shower, our bedroom had finally gone back to smelling like it normally does.

When Joe flopped on the bed he almost immediately knocked out.

“Tired?” - you kissed his forehead

Joe nodded and I kissed him one last time before cuddling up to him and falling asleep.

One thing you can take from our relationship is no matter what, get you a man that'll still rock your word less than 10 minutes after he thought you let out the worst-smelling fart known to man.

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Authors note: a random daydream turned into one of my fav fics ever. 💀

Hope you enjoyed! ❤️

#joe burrow #bengals #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #joey b #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow smut

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 4 months

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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 86

Part 1 Part 85

Eddie’s going to come out of this whole thing with a bald patch. He can’t stop pulling at the ends of his hair, feeling the sharp tug on his roots, the snap of the few hairs that can’t withstand the onslaught.

They’re all just sitting here, resting on their laurels like Steve isn’t slipping further away with every wasted second.

There’s enough frenetic energy running through Eddie to make him want to get out of the van, pace the length of the Byers driveway like a tiger in a cage. But Steve’s bound and blindfolded in the van, and the thought of taking his eyes off what little he can see of Steve’s face makes bile rise in his throat.

There’s not much else for his stomach to dredge up. He can’t remember the last time any of them ate.

So, he sits on his heels. And he waits, feet going numb beneath the weight of his thighs.

This is all becoming horribly familiar. They’re even at the Byers house again, Eddie losing his mind by inches, Steve gone.

It’s not fair. Even through all of this, no one’s priority is ever Steve, first. Steve, only. Even when it should be. No one except Eddie.

Will’s still curled into his side, looking up at Steve with that same desperate need, though. So maybe it’s not just him. They’re an island of three, always.

Eddie can live with that, will gladly subsist only to give these two his devout devotions. If Steve will just come back to them.

Eddie’s ready to scoop up Baby Byers in one arm, Steve in the other, and flee state lines if it means he gets to keep them.

Mama Byers likes him too much to let the kidnapping charges stick.

But Steve’s still gone, even as he sits placidly in front of them. So, he waits like a good boy.

For Carol fucking Perkins of all people. It’s like the Upside-Down is determined to scoop up all his sworn enemies and drag them into the clusterfuck right alongside him. First Nancy, now Carol. What’s next? Billy fucking Hargrove? Where does it all end?

Eddie yanks his hair again, feels a few more hairs snap. He drops them on the floor of the van, mind spinning off into DNA, and fingerprints, and all the things the shady government spooks could pin on him with those few loose hairs.

He pulls out a few more.

Barb’s usually an annoyingly safe and slow driver, but she must have hauled ass because her tires are skidding into the driveway well before he would have expected her to be. She stops abruptly enough that gravel kicks up around her car, tires digging grooves into the dirt beneath it.

The kids tumble out of the backseat, dirty but intact. Eddie can’t help the way his eyes stray from Mike, to Lucas, to Max, to Dustin, cataloging each of the rips and smudges along their bodies, looking for scrapes and injuries underneath.

The knee of Mike’s jeans is suspiciously ripped and bloody, like he’d taken a tumble on cement, but everyone else looks fine.

When Carol slides out, she looks decidedly less fine. Her preppy outfit’s streaked with dirt and grim, her usual blow-out hair-do caked with something suspiciously dark and viscus. Most damningly, she’s got a baseball bat clutched in her manicured hand, ready to take a swing, and are those nails? Is that blood on them?

Whatever it is, it’s not human. It’s so dark, it’s almost black, even in the overcast light of the afternoon.

Barb’s less disheveled, but there’s a smudge of the black liquid on her glasses, like it’d splattered across her face, and she’d only partially cleaned it up.

It’s seeing it there, that makes it click. It’s the same color as the Demogorgon’s blood had been when it had been painted across Steve’s face that time they’d thought it was a good idea to trap one.

Will jumps out, running up to Mike, and Dustin, and Lucus. It’s another reenactment of last year, the reunion just as fierce and life-affirming. Even if this time it’s only been a couple days since they last saw each other. Near death experiences will do that to a kid. Even Max gets pulled into the mess, arms around backs, heads tucked into shoulders.

Eddie barely sees it, too focused on Barb’s glasses, brain making connections between black blood, and Demogorgon’s and Demo-dogs, and the way the soldiers had screamed beneath the earth as they’d left them to die.

Eddie follows Will out of the van. He’s pulled into his own hug, Barb’s arms warm and shaking as they wrap around him. His hands hang down awkwardly, trapped by his sides by her hold. She drops him but stays huddled close.

“I’m never going to get used to this,” she sighs, eyes trained on the kids all surrounded together, all talking at the same time, clearly trying to fill in Will whose bemusement only grows on his face.

Eddie laughs, sharp and unhinged before he clamps his lips together to cut it off. “You don’t know the half of it,” he says. He can feel Steve in the van, still, wants to turn back and get him in his sights again.

Perkins steps in his path before he can. “Monsters, Munson?” she demands. Up close, Eddie can see the way her fingers are white around the baseball bat, the way the blood’s congealing around the rusted nails. Even at five foot nothing, she paints an imposing figure with that clutched in her hand. “You were all hiding fucking monsters?”

Eddie grimaces. “You told her?” he murmurs out of the corner of his mouth to Barb.

Perkins rolls her eyes, clearly having heard him. “She kind of had to when those fucking things cornered us!”

He’s getting really tired of so many of the things in his life having to be classified as ‘things.’ Still, he can picture their gaping maws, the way they’d open up like flowers in bloom just from the horror peeking out behind the indignation in Perkins face. This is going to upset Steve when he gets back.

“Why the hell were you even there?” Eddie demands, pointing a finger in her face. He drops it when the hand holding the bat shakes, bringing it closer to his hand.

“Blame that one!” she snarls, pointing at Dustin like he’s gum on the bottom of her shoe. “I could’ve gone my whole life without seeing one of those fucking whatever-dogs!”

“Same,” Barb murmurs, shriveling up with disgust.

Perkins doesn’t even look her way, but she still stands shoulder to shoulder, somehow made into a united front within a day. Eddie shouldn’t be surprised: the Upside-Down makes for surprising bedfellows.

He’d done the same thing, trapped in a hell dimension with Steve Harrington of all people. Steve Harrington who’d made him laugh, and shared his bed, and saved his life. Steve Harrington who’s bleeding out of himself to make room for something else.

“Where is Steve anyway?” Perkins asks, like she could hear his train of thought. “He’s got a lot of explaining to do.”

Eddie can’t help the way his gaze darts toward Steve. It’s like asking someone not to look at a shooting star darting across the sky, or a lighthouse in a storm, or a compass pointing your way home. He can’t help it, and maybe Perkins can’t help the way she storms over to the van, either.

“What the fuck?” she says, less a question than an exclamation of shock as she takes in Steve’s state.

Eddie knows what she’s seeing – her friend’s washed-out face, obscured by Wayne’s flannel, and Will’s headphones, tied tightly by every seatbelt Wayne could reach without moving Steve. He knows what conclusions she’s drawing in her twisted little head as she rushes into the van and knee walks over to her reported best friend.

Eddie’s “wait, no!” is drowned out by similar sentiments from Will and Wayne and Mama Byers. None of it makes a difference. It’s too late.

“Steve?” Perkins says, and there’s the sound of her bat thunking into the ground, and then an ominous rustling. Eddie doesn’t wait to see what happens next. He bolts to the van, Wayne right behind him. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

She sounds desperate enough that Eddie can’t even blame her for what she’s done. But that doesn’t change the fact that Steve’s dull eyes are uncovered, and he’s looking past all of them, through the open door and out onto the street. The flannel and headphones are both discarded on the floor as Perkins clutches on Steve’s shoulders, shaking him like that will get him to meet her eyes.

Steve’s been here dozens of times, sitting passenger side in Eddie’s van and drumming his fingers on the dashboard

“Code fucking red!” Eddie calls, head shaking at the force of his yell. “They know where we are!”

Wayne sighs, long and heavy the way he does when he’s sinking into his armchair after a long shift. All the kids are shouting over each other, demanding answers to questions Eddie can’t even hear. Perkins is staring at him like he’s insane, but Barb’s drooping where she stands. She’s been in this long enough to know what a code red means, even if she’s lacking all the necessary context.

Wayne straightens, back cracking as he claps once to get everyone to shut up. “Kids in the house!” he calls, talking louder when the inevitable protests come from that corner of the driveway. “Now!”

Wayne doesn’t yell, ever. Hearing his voice raise, angry and loud, makes Eddie flinch back, shoulder hitting Perkins where she’s kneeling. It does the job, though. The kids scurry into the house while Wayne surveys the remaining group of four, eyes skipping over Steve’s blinking eyes.

“You any good with that bat?” Wayne asks.

Perkins eyebrow is furrowed, but she opens her mouth to answer. Barb beats her to it. “I’m better.”

Wayne picks it up from the ground and hands it over to her. They all know by now that she knows better than to mislead them at a time like this. Barb clutches it between her hands, straight-backed and feet planted, like she’s ready to swing.

“Joyce, go stay with the kids.”

Mama Byers shuffles her feet, looking back at her house, but doesn’t leave. “Shouldn’t we stay together?”

“We can’t untie Harrington here,” Wayne replies. “And there’s no time to go somewhere else.”

As if to punctuate his point, there’s a familiar hungry growl, pettering off into a howl. The howl echoes off the walls of the sky, cutting in and out. Static. Reverb. The Upside-Down is calling and Eddie doesn’t want to pick up the phone.

Mama Byers runs, full tilt toward the house. Eddie hopes she makes it, can’t see her past the lip of the open door of the van. He hopes she’s got a gun in there, hopes she hands out butcher knives to too-small fingers and they all stand back-to-back-to-back. He hopes None of those things make it past Barb’s bat.

Wayne rushes to the glove compartment, limping on his bad hip with his haste as he digs around. He comes out with a gun, polished and sleek, and clearly one of the dead soldiers. Eddie hopes it’s loaded.

He stands behind Barb, blocking the open door with his body, gun raised and pointing toward the staticky sound of dogs growling.

“Close the door, Ed.” He doesn’t turn away from the threat, even as he says, “Love you.”

Eddie hiccups, something wretched and sharp boiling out of him. He wants to stand at his Uncle’s side, but his hands are fleshy and empty. Perkins is hyperventilating behind him and Steve’s not saying anything at all.

He closes the door.

He crouches in front of them both, blocking the closed door, ready to play a fleshy, second door should the first one fail.

There’s the sound of a gunshot, the wet thwack of a nail-covered bat meeting malleable flesh, then glass shattering all around him.

He raises his hand and closes his eyes reflexively as it rains down onto his face, into his hair. Something cold and meaty lands on his lap.

He opens his eyes.

It’s just like he imagined: paws and tail and hairless body. A petaled mouth that droops open, razor-sharp teeth glinting threateningly even in death.

He pushes it off, scrambling back and away from the dead thing that still somehow looks like it wants to kill him, heedless of the broken glass making mincemeat of his palms.

Eddie backs into Perkins, tries to keep crawling away until she grabs his shoulder, squeezes hard as she peers over his shoulder into the silence of the day.

He can see Wayne, still standing, Barb at his side, gorey bat raised. Had they won? A bat and a gun, and they’d won?

But, then there’s a new face, peering up through the broken window. Her eyes are solemn, but she smiles when she meets his eyes, short curls atop her head bobbing as she waves at him.

“Supergirl?”

Part 87

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie upsidedown au #will byers #my fic

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whitedarkmoonflower · 5 months

Text

Feeling you 2

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: this was planned as one shot, but the story doesn't let go of me. So as promised Part 2 is ready and there will be Part 3 coming soon if nothing extraordinary happens. You know me already - if there is not a healthy portion of angst it's probably not my story 😉

Warnings: angst, heartbreak

Word Count: 3,6 K

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius@hb8301@zillahvathek@alexagirlie@gemini-mama @verenahx@mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

Eanflaed's voice, both comforting and irritating, pierced through your consciousness, pulling you back to the dimly lit main room of the old alehouse. “You are dreaming again,” she said. Your friend busied herself at the counter, cluttered with empty ale mugs, and leaned forward on her elbows, waiting for you to wash and refill them.

“You need to put an end to this”, she insisted, striving to capture your attention, though she knew you were hardly in a state to listen. Persistent as always, Eanflaed never ceased trying. You knew she meant only good for you and she was right, and you loved her for that with all your heart. Eanflaed had always been the bastion of reason, a reliable friend in the gravest situations. Someone you deeply trusted.

“You realise he won't come back to you. We've all been through it. Falling in love with a client can’t have a happy ending,” she added, placing her hand on yours, compelling you to pause and meet her gaze.

“I know, and I’m not in love,” you mumbled, averting your eyes as a surge of warmth tinged your cheeks, “I just can't shake him from my mind. It's foolish, but I can't help it. Sometimes, I wish for them to return, and for him to simply overlook me, choosing another for the night. Then, at least, I'd be certain he's forgotten me. It would hurt, but I'd finally know it's over. I'd understand that there was never anything between us in the first place."

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" Eanflaed's voice softened. "When I asked you to hump him, I was just trying to help you get over it, to move forward. He seemed so sweet and somehow lost and I thought that maybe he could snap you out of this funk you've been in since that bastard... well, you know." Eanflaed's words halted abruptly under your stern gaze. "I'm sorry," she murmured, releasing your hand.

You finished filling the mugs, ale frothing at the brim, and Eanflaed quickly picked them up, heading back to the few guests at the tables. You let your palms glide over the rugged and worn surface of the old, cracked wooden counter, feeling its grooves and notches, the sensation under your fingers strangely calming. Noticing an ale splash, you grabbed a rag to clean it up. Keeping busy always helped you stay grounded, stopped your mind from wandering too much. It was a quiet evening.

It had been half a year since you last saw Sihtric, but for some reason, you couldn't get him out of your head. You just couldn't shake off the memories - that soothing feeling of his warm body pressed against yours, his strong arms wrapped around your naked frame, holding you tight as if he was afraid you'd disappear if he let go, that gentle touch of his lips on your neck, the tickling sensation of his breath against your skin. But above all his big, expressive eyes, the look in them tinged with inexplicable sorrow mixed with youthful eagerness and goodness were etched in your memory.

He had asked your permission to stay with you, even though he knew he didn’t have to, as Uhtred had paid for the whole night. He had carefully tucked the blanket around both of you, his legs entwining with yours, enveloping you in his presence and leaving no space between your bodies. You could still almost feel his fingers tracing a gentle path from your shoulder down to your palm, interlacing with yours as he whispered a soft “Thank you,” in your ear, and his steady heartbeat coupled with his even breathing had lulled you into a deep, dreamless sleep for the first time in two years.

Morning had arrived with loud knocks and Uhtred's brusque voice demanding the horses be readied. Startled, Sihtric leapt from the bed, his cheeks colouring as he scrambled to dress, muttering under his breath while struggling with the stubborn laces of his breeches.

You had watched him from the bed's warmth, a strange lump forming in your throat. With each passing moment you realised that this was the end. The end of what? Your mind was harshly insistent there hadn’t been anything. You had humped the young and handsome warrior. It was nothing special. It was what whores do for money. And you had been in this trade far too long to know it better.

Closing your eyes, you sank back into the pillow, the last thing you wanted was to watch Sihtric hurry out of the room. You were certain he wouldn't look back. Why would he? But just as you braced for the definitive sound of the door closing, you felt a weight settle on the edge of the bed. Your eyes fluttered open just as Sihtric's lips hesitantly brushed your forehead.

A shy smile played on his lips. “I have to leave now,” he said, and you couldn't discern if his voice held a hint of regret or sadness, or if it was just your imagination. “Can I… will I see you again, if we… when we return?” Sihtric's voice wavered slightly with his last words. Was it due to the uncertainty of his future, or a genuine desire to see you again? You tried to speak, but no words came out, choked by the lump in your throat. Instead, you just nodded and exhaled sharply as Sihtric's lips met yours in a brief, tender kiss.

You had so much you wanted to say – to wish him luck, to say how much you enjoyed the night with him, to tell him you'd be waiting. Thoughts swirled in your mind, but your voice failed you as you watched him walk towards the door, turning for one last, lingering glance before leaving.

And since then, you waited, though you weren't sure for what. What could you expect if he did return? “Nothing,” your mind whispered, while your heart screamed, “Everything!” Deep down, you knew it was a lost cause. He had probably forgotten you the moment he left town, or at least by the next alehouse with its array of young, charming girls. Yet, each time the doors of the old alehouse creaked open and men entered, your eyes involuntarily searched among them, your heart racing with hope.

"Sigefried's here again, asking for you to join him at their table. What should I tell him?" Eanflaed queried with a teasing grin, returning with a batch of empty mugs.

"Just say I can't," you replied tersely, bracing yourself against the counter with your hands and shooting a challenging look at your friend.

"He's a decent man, and he's taken a liking to you. His wife passed away last year," Eanflaed pressed on, oblivious to your brooding expression.

"That's precisely it. Barely a year since her death and he's already on the hunt for someone new," you retorted sharply, your voice laced with disdain.

"Hey, go easy on him. He's only human, not a saint. And in his defence, he's only had eyes for you. Never once has he chosen another girl here. I think his visits are just to see you," Eanflaed whispered, trying to persuade you. "I'm not suggesting you to hump him. Just be courteous and say hello."

"I'm really not feeling up to it today," you replied, turning away and glancing towards the back chamber behind the counter. "Ealfwin, could you take over? I need a break," you called to the young girl in the doorway, who was surveying the room. She nodded in acknowledgment. You left your apron on the counter, which Ealfwin picked up as you made your way to the door.

You shivered, feeling goosebumps rise on your skin as the cool evening air brushed against you, a stark contrast to the house's cosy warmth. Rubbing your upper arms to ward off the chill, you hesitated before stepping outside. Heading towards the stables just around the corner, you found comfort in the familiar scent of fresh straw and the soft sounds of horses snorting. Leaning against one of the stable poles, you took a deep breath, soaking in the tranquil hush of the approaching night.

The sound of the main door creaking open and footsteps drawing near reached your ears. Without turning, you knew who it was.

"Uh... erm... good evening. Sorry, I hope I'm not intruding," a deep, resonant voice broke the silence as you slowly turned to face the man now beside you, his figure casting a shadow in the light spilling from the alehouse. "I was wondering... about my offer... have you thought about it?" he asked, stepping closer.

You remained silent.

"I realise it might seem rushed, but as I've mentioned, I find you very appealing, and I'm in need of a wife to manage the household and care for the children. My estate isn't large, but it's sufficient for all my needs and more. With me, you wouldn't have to worry about anything ever again," Sigefried spoke with a measured, casual tone, but his words sent a shiver down your spine.

He had calmly and logically presented his proposal a week ago, urging you to consider it. And you had given it thought. The offer was undeniably tempting – a roof over your head, freedom from the worry about which meal you have to leave out today, or about your clothing slowly turning to tatters with no money to replace them.

It wasn't about love or affection; it was a deal, pragmatic and sensible. It was a polite way of asking you to sell yourself, and the price he offered was more than fair for someone in your position. It was an escape to a different life, one you had often dreamt of – a life filled with esteem and reasonable wealth, a life where you would be attending church on Sundays instead of scrubbing mugs in an alehouse. Yet, in this new life, under the guise of a wife's respectability, you would still be selling your body, just as before. You would still be a whore, only with a different title, and that until your dying day.

Tears began to well up in your eyes as you leaned your head against the pole, closing them. A gentle breeze played through your loose hair, and you felt your fingers tremble as you adjusted your dress, bracing yourself to the cruel truth that there was no other life for you, you were trapped in your own dreams and the cold misery of this world and there was no escape for you.

"I... I've thought about it," you stammered, your breath quickening with each word. Sigefried reached out, taking your hand in his and gently lifting it to his lips. The confidence in his gaze made you swallow hard. He understood the appeal of his offer, assured in its allure. There was no malice in his eyes, only lust mingled with cold calculation – and that was the final push in your decision, one that had been resolute from the start. You knew this was a choice you might regret.

You parted your lips to speak, but before a word could escape, Sigefried's lips pressed forcefully against yours, eliciting a surprised gasp. You remained immobile, spellbound, as Sigefried's greedy lips moved over yours. Shock rendered you unable to respond, while a growing sense of disgust churned in your stomach, absorbing all your other senses so that you even failed to notice the figure of a young man, halted in his steps, clutching a bunch of flowers, his gaze fixed intently on you and Sigefried.

—-------------------------------------

Sihtric stood motionless, unable to avert his gaze from you and the man who had just proposed to you, now kissing you with such intensity. Time seemed to slow down as he observed you both, completely absorbed in each other, oblivious to the world around. With a concerted effort, he finally managed to look away. His eyes fell to the flowers he clutched, and a wave of heat rushed to his cheeks, flooding him with embarrassment. Flowers. He couldn't help but think how silly it was to come here with flowers.

His hand opened, letting them slip through his fingers and tumble to the ground, while his eyes followed their swirl in the air before landing in the dirt. An urgent need to escape washed over him, to flee before the overwhelming heaviness in his chest became too much to bear. Stepping over the now-crushed blossoms, Sihtric silently turned and continued his way, each step feeling heavier than the last. Reaching the door, he paused, inhaling deeply to steady his rapid heartbeat, then pushed it open, alehouse's raucous laughter and loud voices hitting him as he entered.

Uhtred and Finan, sitting at a table at the room's far end, were easily spotted, their laughter ringing out.

"Look who's here! Our lovesick warrior," Finan greeted with a teasing smirk as Sihtric approached. "Tell us, Sihtric, did you finally confess your undying love to the alehouse beauty?"

Uhtred placed a cautious hand on Finan’s shoulder, his eyes noting the miserable, lost expression on Sihtric’s face, his cheeks flushing and fists clenching, as he slumped onto the bench, burying his face in his hands.

"I need a drink," came Sihtric's hoarse voice. He reached for the ale mug Uhtred slid towards him. "And... and I need a woman," he added, setting the now-empty mug back on the table with a thud after a couple of hearty gulps.

Finan's face shifted from amusement to concern as he shared a worried glance with Uhtred.

"What's up? Did you see her?" Finan asked, his tone now serious.

Sihtric tried to speak, but words escaped him as the image of you and Sigefried locked in that intense kiss replayed in his mind again and again, each time like a fresh wound to his heart. He was not angry at you; he was angry at himself for being unable to forget you, to move on from you.

He had made every effort. He had tried to erase the memory of your deep, sorrowful, yet captivating eyes, and had sought to quell his yearning for your soft, tender touch in the embrace of other women. But nothing had worked. Something about you had ensnared him from the very first moment your eyes met. There had been something so familiar yet intangible in the way you spoke to him, the way you touched him, that lingered in his memory, impossible to shake off and forget.

He had felt safe with you and he had felt loved. Yes, loved – he had felt a genuine care and acceptance of who he was, emanating from you, a feeling he thought long forgotten and buried together with the only person who he knew had truly cared for and loved him.

He understood that he had no right to expect anything from you, but deep down, he had hoped that unique bond he had sensed – that understanding and shared feeling of each other’s unspoken pain and sorrow – wasn't just a delusion conjured by his imagination. He longed for it to be real, mutual. This feeling had ignited a relentless flame within him, driving him forward, guiding him in the battle, consuming his thoughts and breathing new life in him. He had never experienced that feeling again, regardless of how young, beautiful, or eager to please the other girls were. This flame had driven him to return to you, it had carried him, made him fight like a madman, spurned him and given him wings to fly.

Yet he had arrived too late. And even if he hadn't, what could he possibly offer you? How could he rival the proposal he had just overheard? You deserved the security and prosperity that the other man was offering, and he would rather cut his own hand than attempt to deprive you of it, even if it meant leaving his heart bleeding.

"I'm such a fool," Sihtric finally managed to utter, his hand tightening around the ale mug.

"Hey, that's how it goes sometimes, lad. We tried to warn you, but you wouldn't hear it. She's an alehouse girl, Sihtric. You couldn't have seriously expected her to wait for you for half a year," Uhtred said, placing a comforting hand on his younger friend’s shoulder.

"Thank goodness there's no shortage of beautiful women around," Finan chuckled, his smile broadening as he watched a group of giggling girls emerge from the back room, making their way to the guests.

It was that time again and the room was full of freshly arrived warriors, signalling a potentially profitable night.

—------------------------------------------

Your heart pounded like thunderous drum beats in your ears as you flung open the doors, bursting into the alehouse's now noisy main room.You had been away for no more than half an hour and within this short time the quiet and drowsy alehouse had morphed into a bustling hive, filled with energy and noise.

Your hands trembled, the vivid memory of the recent moments still fresh in your mind. You had slapped Sigefried with all your might, pushed him away in revulsion, and fled. The image of his stunned, confused expression lingered in your mind – his hands reaching out to you, his voice calling your name, offering apologies. But you didn't look back; you just ran, driven by an overwhelming need to return to the safety of the alehouse, to escape his grasp, to avoid his presence.

Your gaze swept quickly over the buzzing main room as you made your way to the counter, trying to dodge Eanflaed's sharp glare.

"What took you so long? Where have you been? We're swamped with guests. Uhtred and his men are back, can't you see? I need you here," Eanflaed's words washed over you forcefully. Your heart seemed to leap into your throat as you spun around, scanning the crowded room. Then, you saw him.

There he was, seated at the far end, his laughter cutting through the din and loud chatter, his arm comfortably draped around the waist of a girl you instantly recognised as Ealfwin, nestled in his lap and whispering something in his ear. Your hands clutched the counter, a desperate anchor as your knees weakened.

Try as you might, you couldn't tear your eyes away. They were fixed on that familiar, handsome face, those broad shoulders, and muscular arms highlighted by his sleeveless armour, pulled in by the sound of his infectious laughter echoing through the room.

He had changed. That insecure, shy, hunched over and sad-eyed boy, who once tried to stay hidden and mask his true strength, was gone. In his place sat a formidable warrior, exuding confidence and self-assurance, adorned with golden rings on his fingers and armbands around his wrists.

A soft gasp slipped from your lips as you took in the sight of him, completely unaware of your presence, entirely focused on the girl in his embrace. He cupped her chin with his fingers and drew her into a fervent kiss. Ealfwin giggled, playfully withdrawing from his lips, her fingers tantalisingly trailing down his arm, while her other hand playfully tousled his hair. Sihtric chuckled again, pushed his ale mug aside, and stood up, effortlessly lifting Ealfwin onto his shoulder, making her laugh and wiggle with her feet, as he made his way towards the stairs that led to the upper chambers.

In that brief moment, as he passed by, your eyes locked with his. You felt rooted to the spot, mesmerised by those deep eyes casually glancing at you, flickering with a playful spark, yet showing no sign of recognition.

“Where’s the ale?” a gruff voice from a nearby table cut through the air, as Eanflaed nudged you sharply with her elbow.

“Snap out of it,” she whispered urgently, “Now you know…,” she trailed off, but you were no longer listening. Gasping, you spun around and hurried towards the door. You barely managed to stumble down the few steps as you felt your guts revolting and overcome by the nausea you bent over to vomit the scant contents of your stomach. Time blurred as you stood there, cold sweat beading on your forehead, your body convulsively heaving.

Feeling hands gently gathering your dishevelled hair and steadying your trembling shoulders, you realised it was Eanflaed, preventing you from collapsing to the ground.

"Come on, sweetheart, I'm so sorry," Eanflaed's soft, familiar voice grounded you. You grasped her arms, looking up into her eyes filled with compassion, your own tearful gaze brimming with gratitude as you realised your friend had simply left her bustling alehouse and its demanding guests to be by your side. Eanflaed wrapped her arms around your shoulders, holding you firmly with a strength one would never suspect from her delicate frame, as she gently guided you to sit down on the steps, settling next to you.

“You deserve so much better,” she said, her smile tinged with sadness as she tenderly tucked your dishevelled hair behind your ear. “You're too sweet and kind for this harsh world.”

"Sigefried proposed to me tonight," you managed between sobs, "And I rejected him. I slapped him when he tried to kiss me. I just couldn't stand his touch, or the thought of anyone else touching me.”

“Oh, heavens. It just keeps getting more complicated,” Eanflaed sighed. “You need to rest and get through this night. Things always seem clearer in the morning. Come, I'll get a bed ready for you. And no, you're not going home alone in this state,” she stated firmly, cutting off any weak protest you might have had. In truth, you didn’t have the strength to argue. Nodding in agreement, you allowed Eanflaed to help you to your feet and guide you gently back inside.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

#sihtric kjartansson #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #the last kingdom #tlk #arnas fedaravicius #arnas fedaravičius #sihtric fic #tlk fic #the last kingdom fic #sihtric

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chiquititaosita · 11 months

Text

Maki Zenin x Latina fem reader 🫶🏼🌶️👹

¡! ❞ synopsis: maki x latina reader varying headcanons, with slight mentions of nsfw descriptions, and suggestive writing

osita note: yall im making more soon asap, writing is back in the groove more gay shit coming soon! hope y’all love it @kenruu @sanjisblackasswife @yourrfavzxri @chrollohearttags @chocolatetheoristcloud @sanjis-all-blue @euphofic @roronoaswifey @cookiepie111 @sierae @hqkalon

maki being the girlfriend to write you notes on a sticky note in places you’ll be looking for stuff. “have a good day at work! fuck that bitch (coworkers name).”

Maki who spoils you by buying you food, and even cooking sometimes. She comes to terms with accepting the use of vicks vaporub and newspaper cones.

Maki Zenin being the girlfriend that literally checks you out unintentionally, and her sister calls her out.

“You’re checking her out aren’t you?”

“So she’s not your type.” “but that’s my girlfriend.”

“Hey she’s mine back off!” she gets jealous so fucking easily, and is kinda tóxica but we stan it.

You yelling at Maki and slapping her hand with a wooden spoon with a small hit. Then itadori with a PAM! because they attempted to eat your cooking that’s still raw and needs to be cooked thoroughly.

“Wash y’all’s damn hands!!” You’ll be yelling that in Spanish and putting your hands on your hips.

I mean if you you yell at Maki or anyone in español She’s gonna get her pushy wet, call it Niagara Falls up in this bitch.

“AYO THOSE ARE MY TITTIES!!” she’s gonna cover you up if you have a nip slip or a fashion mishap. Or get nobara to help you. She don’t mess with taken women, nobara goes after married men PURR

here y/n is just being fussy; and crying if she gets hurt, “who did this to you!?…” at first in her head she’ll be like oh shit.

“What happened…?” bitch will fight the whole jujitsu society and even risk her life as a sorcerer for you. BECAUSE SHE LOVES YOU SO DEARLY INTO HER HEART.

ms girl loves your cooking and your body with stretch marks and freckles. “And I thought you were my breakfast.”

FaceTimes you when you’re on break, ALWAYS COMES HOME TO YOUR COOKING AND CLEANING. Because she’s never been taken care off because her dads a bitch. she starts showing affection to you slowly.

“i know you’re homesick, so i brought you pan dulce from the panadería.”

“you want me to help you with anything?” she really doesn’t know how to ask you for help, but instead she takes over the whole task on doing it.

“you need to be careful, okay?” overprotective 11/10

cuddles are necessary with her always

she’s always gotta be touching you on your thighs your ass or your titties, even the small of your back

“My girlfriends coming! And she’s gonna kick your ass!” The minute she feels somethings not right! 🏎️ nyooom!! She’s gonna use her cursed objects to find you AND KILL THEM MFS

Maki to the rescue. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She’s gonna kill these bitches with no mercy. Maki has already lost her mother and she can’t risk the chances of losing you.

She calls you mama, princess, baby, y/n love, love, love bug, sunshine.

Actually is learning Spanish for you. Even though it’s easy to understand by how you’re yelling at someone she’s just encouraging you with her hands up having a smirk on her face. “that’s my girl.”

especially for her voice being low and sounding like honey, when she calls you baby. she’s obsessed at how y’all dance together. Mai approves of you 9/10! only because maki didn’t tell her about you sooner.

if your cousins ask maki why her hair looks like mocos, she’ll just just not care. and whisper something super sinister in your cousins ears that’ll leave them terrified, and go back to eating.

kisses with maki are sweet and slow, even passionate at times, of course when it comes to pda she’ll show you off, but when y’all are alone and in private she’s mostly affectionate, and at her most vulnerable state

when you teach her how to flip a tortilla she instantly burns her finger, because the comal was hot. “fuck!” that leaves you to helping her with it. but you or maki wouldn’t change a thing

#˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ jjk #˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ osita’s maki zenin #maki zenin x latina! reader #maki zenin fluff #x latina! reader #˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚jjk headcanons #༊*·˚ ositas master list #mai zenin #maki zenin #zenin twins #jjk x reader #maki x reader fluff #˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ositas jjk masterlist #jjk #jjk imagines #jjk x y/n #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen

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miyuhpapayuh · 1 year

Text

nine.

Waking up to the sun peeking through the blinds, as well as the soft snoring in her ear, Zora’s brain instantly became flooded with the juicy details of her and Leon’s night.

She had expectations, and he exceeded every last one of them. Her mind was blown. She'd say she was in love.

Okay, relax.

His long arm tucks around her waist, subconsciously pulling her back against him, his face finding the groove of her neck.

She smiles to herself, tracing the vein that starts from his wrist and splays out towards his pointer finger, finding herself drifting right back to sleep.

Only to be woken back up a few hours later, by the smell of breakfast wafting down the hall and the faint sound of Leon moving around in the kitchen.

Sitting up and stretching, she looks around the room and hums a laugh at the way their clothes are thrown about.

Pulling on the t-shirt he'd placed on the bed for her, she slides out of the comfy bed and stands up, the dull ache in her thighs brightening her smile by a million.

Collecting herself and thanking god she had a tie on her wrist to pull her wild hair up, she makes her way down the hall to see about her man.

Turning the corner, she sighs at the sight of him, shirtless, humming a catchy tune that she can't place.

Knocking on the nearest wall, she smiles as he whips his head in her direction, that blinding smile spreading across his face.

“Good morning, gorgeous.”

“A good morning, it is.” She responds, tucking the shirt underneath her thighs, before sitting at the island.

“I made your favorite,” he says, adding another pancake to the plate on his left. “It's almost ready.”

“Aw, so sweet. Thank you.”

Soon, they're cutting into extra fluffy pancakes and eggs, stealing glances at each other. He's still humming.

“How'd you sleep?” He asks.

“Like a baby. How about you?”

“Same. That was a guarantee, the way we went at it.”

Her face runs hot as she turns her gaze back to her food, softly laughing to herself.

If walls could talk, they'd be just as speechless as she is.

He smirks, covering it with a sip of orange juice.

“Can I tell you something?” She asks, her eyes still on her food.

“Only if you look at me,” he replies, giving her another smile once she does.

“That was the best sex I've ever had.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” she breathes, giving him a signal that she wanted it again.

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

After making each other's toes curl for a second time, the couple cuddle up underneath the covers, thankfully not having to go anywhere for the day.

“You like this movie?” He asks, as they half-gaze at Pretty Woman.

“Eh, everybody likes this movie, don't they?” She asks back with a laugh.

“I mean, it's Julia. I'll give you that.”

“What you know about Julia?” She asks, looks away from the screen, giving him a quizzical look that makes him smile.

“My mama loves Julia Roberts. I personally like her brother, Eric.”

“Oh, that Hawaiian shirt wearing, psycho ass doctor that's got like seven million of the same movie on lifetime!?” She asks, making him laugh.

“That's the one!”

“I saw one where he was driving and in the backseat, talking to himself. He kicked himself out of the car and drove away… leaving himself to walk down the road. Like is that fever dream or something? He should get checked out, no?”

“He's a nutcase for sure, but I haven't seen that one.”

“You need to! It's very comical.”

“I'll put it on my list.”

She nods, sinking back down in the bed and kissing him for the millionth time. He lazily wraps his arms back around her.

“Can we stay like this all day?” She asks.

“Yeah, baby. We can.”

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

“Y'all did what?!” Nique screams, making Zora snicker up a storm.

As soon as Leon left to grab them some food, Zora immediately facetimed Nique to fill her in.

“Oooh, your fast ass!”

“Nique, if you're gonna be judgemental, I'll just keep it to myself!”

“Okay, okay! How was it?” She asks, palms under her chin as she gives her undivided attention.

“Ugh, it was the best sex I've ever had!”

“The best?? Oh, wow! Even better than—”

“Way better. I know that's what kept me tethered to that fool, but Leon knocks him outta the park.”

“Oof! To be a fly on the wall.”

“Girl,” she fans herself, getting flashbacks. “It's like he knew exactly what I needed.”

“To be knocked on your ass?” Nique asks, already nodding.

“Man, he put it down. I won't lie about that.”

“So, how many times have y'all done it? Cause I know you.”

She gasps in faux outrage, not phasing her friend at all.

“Girl, please. Save that for someone who don't know your freaky ass.”

“Fine. We've been on and off of each other all day long,” she laughs.

“See?! A freak.”

“Who's met her match!” She squeals.

“I'm so happy for you, dude. We all need dick like that.”

“It's not just about the dick, dude. It's him.”

“You're right. He makes it worth it.”

“Boy, does he!”

Before she can say more, his front door unlocks and he walks inside, closing and locking the door behind him.

“Hey boyfriend!” Nique yells, earning a laugh from Leon as he puts the bags on the table and leans over the couch, where Zora's sitting.

“Ah, my favorite person. How ya doing?”

“Not as good as you two,” she replies, making Zora throw her a crazed glance, while Leon just smiles.

“Alright, that's enough. Bye Nique.”

“Alright, okay. I'll talk to you later!” She says to Zora, blowing a kiss before hanging up.

“Sorry about that, she's ridiculous.” Zora snorts, welcoming to kisses he places on her face.

“It's cool, baby. Who wouldn't brag about the best sex ever?”

“Oh, don't hold that over my head.”

“It's a couple things I could hold over your head,” he mumbles, placing a couple kisses on her lips.

“Don't get me started,” she pouts.

“Alright, alright.” He chuckles, moving to grab the food, rounding the couch to sit beside her.

“I got your favorite,” he says, while she looks inside the bag and dances in her seat, pulling the loaded fries from the bag.

“Ugh, you know me so well!”

“I sure hope so!” He laughs, digging into his own bag.

Cutting the tv on, they fall into a comfortable silence as they eat. Cartoons being the soundtrack to their evening.

“So,” Leon starts, turning towards Zora. “I know that you don't like talking about your ex… but I've got a question.”

“Yeah, he was the first person I've ever slept with.” She answers, earning a soft smile in return.

“How'd you know that was my question?”

“Wasn't it?” She asks.

“Yeah, but how'd you know?” He chuckles.

“I saw the curiosity swirling in those eyes, earlier. I knew it was coming.” She smiles.

Not knowing what else to say, he just takes the moment to look at her.

“Explains a lot, doesn't it?”

“Hey, I won't judge you baby. You've heard my story.”

“I know you won't, but it pieces it together. Sex was our trauma bond. It was where things weren't bad. Where the aggression made sense, and only then, did I feel like he loved me.” She sighs.

He frowns, and she reaches up to caress his cheek, putting his worries to bed.

“I've done a lot of work on myself, and I know that it wasn't love that kept us together. It was our own selfish vices, his more so than my own, but I take accountability for letting him keep me in such a dark place. It's not like that with you and me. I mean, I've never felt the ways I feel now. I know love isn't here yet, but when it does come, I'll get to actually experience it for what it truly is.”

“It's pretty damn close, mama.” He assures, pulling her in for the most tender kiss she's ever had.

“I know,” she smiles, wiping the tiny tear before he could do it himself.

Ch 10

@sheabuttahwrites @blackerthings @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @thegifstories @nayaxwrites @cecereads209 @twistedcharismaaa @abeautifulmindexposed @blowmymbackout @chaneajoyyy @soufcakmistress @theficplug

#mochaff #miyuhpapayuh #poc writers #blackwriters #black romance #yahya abdul mateen ii #zora x leon

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hangmansgbaby · 1 year

Text

Everybody Wants You | 3

Everybody Wants You Masterlist

The party was in full swing by the time Locklyn exited her room, bell bottom jeans fitting perfectly paired with a floral shirt that flowed around her elbows. She made her way directly to the kitchen to get herself a drink when she’s finally confronted by someone.

“Hey Locklyn.”

“Bradshaw, enjoying your first college baseball party?” She questions, popping open two beer cans.

“You could say that.” Bradley chuckles, taking the second beer from her. “So what was that between you and mr team captain earlier?”

“It’s nothing.” She sighs.

“Looked a lot more like something.” Bradley states, watching the girl take a rather large swig. “Ya know if you ever need to talk—“

“Thanks Bradley.” Locklyn smiles finishing her beer. “I’m gonna go do some shots.”

“Listen, all I’m saying is that if we're gonna be wild and free, we might as well go for it.” Locklyn drunkenly giggles leaning against Mickey’s shoulders. “You picking up my groove, Mickey Mouse?” She pokes Mickey’s nose, giggling again when he simply nods. “You gotta just jump head first into the pit and live a little. So, go flirt with the fox you've been staring at.” She shoves Mickey off the chair toward the girl.

“When she lets loose, she really lets loose, huh?” Bradley questions.

“Man you ain’t seen the half of it.” Javy chuckles. “Every time that foxy mama gets wasted, she tries to sleep with everyone.”

“Tries?” Bradley questions.

“Yepp.” Javy nods.

“What? No one wants to show her a good time?”

“Oh we do! Don’t get me wrong. But she is the Resident Off-limits Foxy Mama or ROFM as Jake says it.”

“Jake seems to have a lot to say about her.” Javy immediately starts laughing. “What so funny?”

“Dude, Jake and Locklyn have been dating since high school.” Bradley stares at Javy in shock. “Jake proposed to her on graduation with the agreement that they could experiment during college.”

“Holy shit. Ya know if I had a babe like her, I wouldn’t even think about doing that.” Bradley’s gaze doesn’t leave her as she dances with another freshman.

“Well still don’t. Baseball guys are completely off limits.” Javy informs. “Jake likes to make freshman and transfers learn the hard way but I like you, so don’t get yourself killed.” Bradley nods as Javy takes off into the crowd. Soon after, Locklyn stumbles over to Bradley.

“Hey Brad Brad!” She giggles at her own words.

“Brad Brad?” Bradley chuckles.

“Yea. Bradley Bradshaw. Double Brad. Brad Brad. That’s your new nickname.” She starts laughing again as she drops down to the couch next to him.

“If you’re gonna give me a nickname, I guess I better give you one.”

“Folks used to call me Foxy Locksy.”

“Really?” Bradley questions.

“Please! I know about Jake’s whole ROFM thing.” She says, almost too serious for how giggly of a drunk she’s been. “Some of the previous players called me Foxy Locksy for short cause I benched anyone who mentioned Resident Off-limits Foxy Mama around me.”

“Well, Foxy Locksy,” Bradley winks, bringing back her giggles. “I’m not scared of your boy toy and his threats.”

“Really?” Locklyn asks, leaning closer to Bradley who nods.

“So if I tell you to meet me in my room in 10 minutes with another bottle of tequila, you’ll say…?”

“I’ll be there in five.” He smirks.

“Okay, see you then. Brad Brad.” She winks as she stands from the couch and walks towards her room.

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aconflagrationofmyown · 7 months

Note

Rosalee was already my favorite, solely because I love and adore Riley Keogh, but her being a Daddy’s girl and Margaret Qualley’s twin absolutely cements it for me. Can’t wait to know her a bit more. Questions below ⬇️

Is Elvis aware that he’s Rosalee’s entire world and does that scare the shit out of him? When did this connection start, does she come out the womb searching for her Daddy? Does she help Jack in his cock-blocking quests? What’s her relationship like with Daisy? How does she deal with her Dad being gone a lot in the ‘70’s and his constant hospital stays during those days? And lastly, how does Elaine feel about Rosalee’s close relationship to Elvis, not because she’d be jealous, but I imagine as a mother she worries for Rosalee a lot as Elvis goes down a dark path.

Gentle reminder, I’m abandoning this blog, I can now be found at @precious-lil-scoundrel

I love that you love her. Really, it just fills me with such joy.

I’m pretty sure this is the baby who comes out and maybe he catches her, maybe he’s actually there for that brith, who knows but either way she when baby Rosalee meets Elvis’ chest and is cradled to his heart -she’s met her soulmate.

They both need and love the same way and yes, it scares him shitless at times and when he’s being an ass, her tearful hurt cuts him deeper than any other failing in his life. But they also require so little to get back into their groove, forgiving each other and making time for each other and knowing the other just needs peace sometimes. His being gone is very hard on her, she tries to follow him around a decent amount like the rest of the children do, and it’s beyond disheartening for her to lose him and they are more heartfelt connection to the drugs. Eventually she is very key and bringing him back after the divorce.

These two are the best at naps and cuddles book reading and hammock sessions. Even into her adulthood. And that never changes.

Her relationship with Daisy is very interesting as Daisy is by far the most independent child, she’s also brutally blunt and his little interest in keeping up appearances -harmony and peace are not her forte and she’s not uncomfortable in a Contentious environment, so long as the truth is coming out. Which is the exact opposite of what Rosalee enjoys. However loyalty is Daisy’s love language, and she will kill to maintain Rosalie’s equanimity, while Rosalee provides a much needed neutral ear for Daisy’s antics and ambitions. So they are complementary in that way, due to their love for each other and a certain amount of selflessness no matter what.

Lastly I love figuring out Elaine‘s perspective and relationship with Rosalee. Due to Daisy‘s wild antics, Elaine has little fear of Rosalee following her down their Daddys path, but she can tell what the semi-abandonment has done to her. Of any of the kids, Rosalee definitely sides with her dad during the divorce. Can’t make any sense of why her mama is suddenly choosing to no longer support him when he’s down so bad.

I can’t wait to finally resolve that rift as well. Thank you so much for such a awesome ask. 🥰

#sarge asks #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #Rosalee asks

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navibluebees · 1 year

Note

Hey bbg, i just read you 'mama z-dog' and it got me into some feels yk 😭 can i please have another drabble of the same theme, it's making me emotional and I'm loving it 😭💚💚💚

ehehe of course. 🩵 I love that we're all healing through this. Also, I might be missing it, but I don't see your age on your blog, so please let me know how old you are~

All ageless & empty blogs will be blocked. No minors!

Mommy Issues - Part 3

You walked into your home, threw your bag down to the ground and flopped onto the couch. You groaned loudly and your mother peeked over her book.

"A bit dramatic, aren't you?"

She tapped your leg with her foot and shot you a teasing grin. You huffed and rolled your head to look at her.

"Work was shit, ma."

She smiled and opened her arms. You scooted over, leaning into her side and sighed. She gently rubbed your arm and kissed the top of your head.

"It's your first job. There's gonna be some awkward moments as you get into the groove of things."

You sat up, looking into her eyes.

"Okay, yeah. BUT. Nobody knows how to do anything. The instructions are simple. The requirements aren't much and they just don't do it and push it all off on me."

You slumped back down, crossing your arms over your chest. She put her book face down on the arm of the couch.

"Need me to kick some ass?"

A smile flitted across your face but you shook your head.

"Nah. It'll get better. Maybe."

"It will. And if it doesn't, you can always find something else to do."

Your lip trembled.

"I don't wanna just hop around different jobs. I want to help since it's just us. I wanna be useful."

Worry swarmed over her and she crouched in front of you, pulling you close to her at the edge of the couch.

"Nope. Nuh uh. That's not your job to worry about. You're just a kid. You're my kid. And that's all I need you to be."

#avatar recoms #recom z dog #recom zdog #recom zdinarsk #Alicia Zdinarsk #z dog fluff #mama z dog

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manwalksintobar · 7 months

Text

if we’ve gotta live underground and everybody’s got cancer/ will poetry be enuf? // Eisa Davis to Ntozake Shange

dear ntozake,

I got sacks of mercury under the skin beneath my eyes either cried too much or i’m abt to the cool war’s burnin up my retina again does poetry start where life ends? i know i’m supposed to be cool: i wear corrective lenses that feature high definition tragedy. baby in the dumpster ethnic cleansing assassinations multinational mergers i’m supposed to shake my head write a poem believe in ripples. but i ain’t cool. i emit inhuman noises i imagine terrorist acts as i flick my imaginary ash onto the imaginary tray i imagine going insane with a purpose and writing it down feels sorta unnecessary does poetry end where life begins? berkeley girl black girl red diaper baby born of the blood of the struggle but with reaganomics and prince pickin up steam in ‘81 nothing came between me and my calvins 10 yrs old unpressed hair playin beethoven readin madeleine l’engle got scared in my pants when i heard this girl testifying ‘TOUSSAINT’ in the black repertory group youth ensemble i was just sittin in a rockin chair pretendin to be 82 and talkin like I knew all bout langston’s ‘rivers’

i wasn’t as good as her and i definitely wadn’t cool so i gave up drama and decided to bake soufflés zake you wda beat me up in the playground if we’da grown up together and you did eighth grade ‘he dropped em’ at the regional oratorical competition i saw another fly honey rip it this time it’s ‘a nite with beau willie brown’ i was bleedin on the ground i became yours no more soufflés i jacked for colored girls right off my mama’s shelf my mama fania who was sweatin with you and raymond sawyer and ed mock and halifu osumare dancin on the grass back in the day in you i found a groove never knew i had one like that did that monologue over and over alone in my room my bunk bed the proscenium arch 13 yrs old screamin and cryin abt my kids gettin dropped out a window didn't know a damn thing about rivers but i knew abt my heart fallin five stories you were never abbreviated or lower case to me you just pimped that irony that global badass mackadocious funkology you not only had hígado you had ben-wa balls in yr pussy

betsey brown on my godmother's couch nappy edges in mendocino at the mouth of big river spell #7 after the earthquake in silverlake the love space demands had to be in brooklyn yr poems are invitations to live in yr body love letters yr admirers dream they coulda written themselves no one cd find a category that was yr size blackety black but never blacker than thou you teased me into sassiness when i had none to speak of made profane into sacred but never formed a church sanctified women's lives whether we were reading nietzsche or a box of kotex we were magical and regular you many-tongued st louis woman of barnard and barcelona you left us the residue of yr lust left us to wander life as freely as sassafrass cypress and indigo and even the unedumacated could get yr virtuosity cuz you always fried it up in grease you built an aqueduct from lorraine hansberry's groundwater and it bubbled straight to george c wolfe you never read what the critics said and you scrunched up the flesh between yr eyebrows like everybody else in my family

but zake is poetry enuf?

i beg the question cuz you grew me up you and adrienne kennedy and anna deavere smith and all my mothers you blew out the candles on my 26th so when there's mercury under the skin beneath my eyes and the world ain't so cool do you write a poem or a will?

like leroi jones said if bessie smith had killed some white people she wouldn't have needed that music so do we all write like amiri baraka does or do we all get our nat turner on?

i beg the question cuz i wanna get my life right do some real work and i really don't want to kill any white folk i mean can we talk abt this maybe it's just my red diaper that's itchin but i still got that will to uplift the race sans bootstraps or talented tenths or paper bag tests this time we uplift the human race and i know the rainbow might be but is poetry enuf?

it's a naive question but i'm old enuf to ask them once in a while if we do finally unload the canon clean it out stock up on some more colorful balls ain't we only gettin the ones that are available at a store near you? doesn't the market end up setting the new standards anyway? is poetry enuf if it ain't sellin? if ain't nobody readin it? can poetry keep a man who can't read from droppin his kids out a window?

and how can i call a ceasefire to this cool war in stanzas of eights when we've declared poetry a no fly zone? we have learned to protect it and its potential politics like a mother shoot down anyone who might overdetermine a poem's meaning (while we poets divebomb everyone else's politics with impunity like we're the United States or something)

if poetry is just poetry we save it from the conservatives but doesn't that mean it's of no use to the progressives?

is poetry enuf? cuz that's all i'm doin. makin up stories on stage on the page keepin the beat and that's all my friends are doin and that's what a lot of folks my age are doin

but if we've gone and burnt up everything in the sky if there's nothin else to eat but landfill stroganoff if we've gotta live underground and everybody's got cancer will poetry be enuf?

my aunt angela says i can do my thang and keep swinging left hooks to oppression if i stay up stay into it stay involved just one form of praxis will do. it's just my guilt that thinks i need twenty-two what's enuf?

shouldn't i (or somebody) be our secular bodhisattva become a real power player but skip the talk show can't we stabilize, rekindle collectives and cooperatives and collaborations therapeutic communities that double as creative juggernauts a publishing house a theatre where the plays cost less than the movies get the neighborhood coven back together take dance breaks in the cubicles sing until the flourescent lights burst into snow i ask you because you changed me zake you changed thousands of women and i know poetry can't be enuf if you drunk

i ain't tryin ta walk off wid alla yr stuff and i got nuttin but love for ya so that's why i gotta know i'm sittin on my bed encircled by every book you've ever published they're open like fans marking pages with the flint of genius all i want is for this circle to grow so tell me:

is this where poetry and life are twins? i felt so crumpled up when i started writing you poetry seemed so useless and dingy next to all the bright red bad news but now that the poem is over i feel wide open like an infant of the spring just tell me how to feed this light to my responsibilities and poetry just might be enuf love eisa

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stardustndreamsofsilver · 1 year

Text

Everything is Temporary

Part Ten

Josh x Reader (f)

Warnings: none

Find All Parts Here

Over the next week, you, Josh and Odette get into the groove of things. Odette started to go longer between feeds and started to sleep longer as well. Instead of every couple of hours, she would nurse every three hours. She also started to stay be awake longer and loved to stare at her mama and papa. When she was awake, you and Josh would sit with her on her little playmat and take turns reading books to her or hold her while talking baby talk, or just sitting with her and taking her in.

Neither you or Josh ever brought up when this temporary situation would end. Both of you not even thinking about it. You were too wrapped up in taking care of your daughter and too sleep deprived to care. Soon the days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months. The two of you grew closer as you raised Odette. Watching her grow into her own little person filling your hearts with nothing but love.

Then one day, when Odette was almost four months old, Josh asked to talk to you after you put her down for a nap.

Walking out onto the back porch with the baby monitor in hand, you say, “Hey what did you want to talk about?”

Turning around to face you, Josh takes in the sight of you. You were glowing. Motherhood suited you. You radiated love and joy. You were more beautiful than ever. He thought he loved you before, but that love only grew as these past few months went by. He didn’t know how he was going to do this.

Taking a deep breath and crossing his arms, he says, “I don’t know where to start. Uh– Well, I’ll just get to the point. I'm leaving.”

You were taken aback. You thought things were going well. You were getting along, you hadn’t fought since that first day. Odette loved him. He was amazing with her. You couldn’t have asked for better. The two of you had grown to be more than just co parents. Closer than friends even. Nothing intimate had happened, but there was flirting. You hadn’t realized it at the time, but your heart had started to forgive him after that first week home. You had started to let yourself fall in love again.

But now he’s leaving you. Again. Breaking your heart all over again.

Blinking back tears and clearing your throat, you say, “Oh, okay. Well this was supposed to only be temporary. I guess I just got so used to you being here and we never talked about it, it slipped my mind. When are you leaving?”

“I have to leave next week. It’s not that I don’t want to be here. I don’t want you to think that at all. If I could I’d stay. But, I have to go back to handle some business with the band. They held off having to ask me to come until absolutely necessary so that I could be with you and Odie. It shouldn't take more than a couple of days.” He says as he steps closer and takes your hands in reassurance.

“So you’ll come back?”

“I’m coming back.” He says, swallowing thickly. “If that’s okay with you.”

“I want you to come back.”

Taking your chin, he lifts your face toward his and runs his thumb across your lips. Dragging his eyes from your lips, he licks his own and looks deep into your eyes. Your breath catches in your throat and your heart starts to race.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, silently pleading you to say yes.

“Please.”

That’s all he needed to hear. Crashing into you, he kisses you. He kisses with the love that he’d kept to himself for over a year. Snaking your arms around his neck, you deepen the kiss. He puts his hand around your waist and pulls you even closer. You’d never gotten so lost in a kiss.

Needing to come up for air, you pull away. Looking up at him, you try to catch your breath.

He clears his throat and speaks first. “I don’t want to come back and things stay the same. I want to be able to love you fully. I want our family to be exactly that, a family. I want to go to sleep in the same bed as you. I want to get up in the morning and look over at the love of my life, the mother of my beautiful daughter. I want to be with you in every possible way. Please. Please be with me.”

Taglist: @lolipopsandgumdrops, @slut4dannywagner, @gretavanloverleaver

#josh kiszka #josh gvf #joshua michael kiszka #josh greta van fleet #josh kiszka fic #josh kiszka angst #josh kiszka fanfiction #gvf #gvf blurb #gvf imagine #gvf josh #gvf fic #gvf fanfiction #gvf series #greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van angst #greta van fleet fan fiction #greta fic

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tmnt-obsessed-ace · 1 year

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Fuck it Venus and Jennika are getting adding to SSDF

(Leo needs more daughters, and some soul crushing guilt that he wasnt able to save them from Draxum because he didnt even SEE them they were hidden too far up to be visible and with the building collapsing he didnt have time to stick and check or he and the babies would all die.)

So lets talk about them :)

Venus is the actual eldest at 16 (she's a year older than Rafa) by the time Leo actually meets her in Many Unhappy Returns she will have just turned 17 (the same age Leo was when he suddenly became a father of six four) she's a striped mud turtle and Big Mama's assistant.

She was found in Draxum's ruined lab when Big Mama's bellhops went investigating what had happened. However there was somebody already there. A white rabbit yokai, dressed in Samurai garb. He was holding two tiny little turtle mutants in his arms, trying to gently calm them down.

The bellhops attacked the Rabbit, managing to steal one of babies and brutally injure the other. Leaving the rabbit no choice but to flee and get the remaining turtle medical attention in hopes of retrieving the other one.

By the time the smaller turtle was even stable enough for searching, Venus was the adopted daughter of Big Mama.

And she heard that there was another baby turtle, still alive and in the city. She accused the rabbit of stealing her daughter, offering a massive reward for her safe return.

Everyone was hunting them now.

So the rabbit took his new daughter and fled the Hidden City, fled New York all together.

Although she started out as Big Mama's beloved daughter it didnt last. Venus's combat skills grew more refined and stronger dhe becomes more and more useful as an assistant. Someone who can go on the more dangerous missions while Big Mama can sit back and run the Nexus. Someone who can protect Big Mama when potential nexus fighters refuse to sign the contract or try to attack Big Mama

And oh boy does Venus resent Big Mama for this.

That resentment only grew stronger over the years but there were two things that drove sweet Venus to eventually overthrow Big Mama

1. Jennika being forced to fight in the Battle Nexus in order to be spared from life in prison. Jennika was only nine years old when this happened, I'll touch more on this in her section.

And 2. Forcing Leo to watch his sons fight for their lives in Battle Nexus New York (it will be a lot more dangerous than in canon) especially when Rafa's fake out death happens. When Leo is screaming and begging Big Mama to just take him instead, leave his children alone. It breaks something inside Venus. And when Cassandra tries to take the ring to control the Shadow Fiend.

Venus takes it instead, giving the Shredder one command.

Destroy Big Mama, tear her apart. Leave nothing behind.

An immediate betrayal.

But Venus finds an Ally in Cassandra.

They team up, on the condition that they take Big Mama down for good. (Even though doing this would create a massive power vacuum. Big Mana was one of the most powerful and influential yokai in the hidden city. And Venus sure as hell wasnt gonna take up the mantle, opting to burn it all down instead so oh boy...)

Then there's Jennika.

A 15 year old diamondback terrapin. And out of all the children, she's the one that looks the most like Leo. (Except that she's got green eyes, just like Raph. And she acts so much like Raph too it hurts.) She's a few months younger than Rafa. She also has deep grooves in her plastron from the attack as a child.

The daughter of a Samurai Ronin named Miyamoto Usagi. The two wandered the world for most of their lives, either hiding in the hidden cities or using cloaking broaches to blend in with the humans.

Jennika or her father called her Hisa, became a highly skilled samurai. Although becoming a Samurai her fierce short temper couldnt be calmed. At least until the incident.

On their travels together in the human world, disguised by cloaking broaches when Hisa was only nine years old, Usagi had been badly hurt by a small gang, losing consciousness too quick. Hisa lost it, absolutely lost it. None of the gang members were left alive. She didn't even know how she did that! They were all bigger and stronger than her but she killed them all in a massive flood. (She was actually the first person in the family to unlock Ninpo to protect/avenge Usagi. But she hasnt been able to do it since)

But...so many people saw it, thirty gang members all dead on the ground, a nine year old human girl at the center of it. Hisa was arrested, dragged kicking and screaming away from her father and mentor, begging the police to help him.

Hisa was handed off to the FBI. Would've gone higher through the government. Until Big Mama took an interest in her. The girl was powerful, too powerful to end up in the hands of humans.

So...Big Mama paid them off, got Hisa out and offered the girl a deal. Because a yokai like herself killing that many humans by obviously supernatural means would bring attention to the Yokai and Hidden Cities, so it is very much illegal. And punishable by life in a maximum security cell in the Hidden City Prison.

The deal was simple, Hisa would work off her sentence by fighting in the Battle Nexus, she just had to sign the contract.

And well Hisa didnt have any other choice.

So for the next five years Hisa was a battle nexus fighter, barely surviving each battle by the skin of her teeth.

All the while mourning her father Usagi.

Hisa was gone, all thats left is Jennika.

But not all hope was lost for the poor girl, as during the Bug Busters episode, while the boys had Big Mama distracted, her father Usagi found her and rescued her.

Together the two fled to the mountains of Japan, hiding away from Big Mama while poor Jennika recovers from those five years of misery.

But when news of a powerful champion in the Battle Nexus reaches Japan and of a MASSIVE Battle Nexus tournament involving four mutant turtles...well the two Samurai cant ignore that, especially when those turtles look a bit like Jennika.

#tmnt 2012 #rottmnt #also...#the only reason Im adding the two is because Open Up Your Eyes from tje mlp movie is PERFECT for a Venus villain arc #and Leo needs more pain

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chaos-is-neutral · 8 months

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Flower Braids

Halsin had just finished with the council meeting for the month. This one had been a little bit longer than he would have liked. Tensions were high, to say the least. One of the other groves was riding on their asses about the next festival being held at their location, but honestly, Halsin couldn't care less. Right now Lyria was on his top priority since they would be due with the twins when the festival came. The last thing he wanted was a bunch of people coming and going that he had to watch while his partner could be in labor.

As he was walking back to his home he heard three familiar giggles out near the river. With a smile, he changed course to his three children. Oliver was working on what appeared to be a flower crown while Thaniel was braiding Aralia’s hair. The little five-year-old was talking away to her older brothers. Her horns had started to grow which caused her auburn hair to fall every which way. Karlach had said that when hers were growing her mother braided her hair. So, the boys had learned to braid to try and help her.

When he walked into the clearing, all three of them looked up. Aralia gave him a big missing front teeth smile. “Daddy!” she giggled. She tried to get up to hug him but Thaniel tugged her back. “Not yet, Ara. Have to finish,” he grumbled.

Halsin walked over and squatted by them. “Is Thaniel braiding your hair for you again?” he asked. The little girl attempted a nod much to Thaniel’s dislike. “When we were playing my hair got in my face and I accidentally fell. I hurt my knees,” she said and put her hands infront of her face, blocking her brown and red eyes as an attempt to renact what her hair was doing. It was as if that was just an everyday occurrence to her.

Which it was.

Aralia had Karlach’s spunk. Being part tiefling also made her pretty durable too. It still didn’t stop him from entering dad mode and checking her knees.

“I okay daddy!” she giggled and moved her legs away. Halsin gave her a smile, “I know Lia, but you know Ani will be worried if they see your knees.” Lyria was already entering what Halsin liked to call mother bear mode. If anything happened to Thaniel, Oliver, or Aralia they freaked out until something was done to satisfy them. Poor Oliver was the last child to witness it when another child accidentally hit him during fighting practice. Karlach had to be the one to try and calm Lyria down. But it didn’t work, so she sent them to Halsin who had to be the one to calm them down by distracting them with questions about how he should go about the festival.

“Ani won’t worry daddy. I good. See!” She bent her knees to prove her little point. It was cute that she didn’t understand.

He chuckled and pushed his hair back out of his face. Halsin had been letting it grow out because Aralia asked him to. “You’re right,” he laughed.

Halsin glanced back at Thaniel whose hair was falling out of his ponytail. He too wanted to grow his hair out with his little sister. Oliver was the only one who said no because he wanted short hair like Ani.

“Want me to help you Thaniel?” Halsin asked and moved behind the boy. He sat down, crossed his legs, and grabbed some of his hair. Thaniel didn’t protest so he kept on.

He was getting in the groove when he heard Aralia shout, “MOMMY!”

He glanced up to see his wife. It looked like she had just finished a training session with the teens. The tiefling was wearing a band around her chest and her leather tights, showing off her muscles. It made her look hot. Halsin had to tame those thoughts for tonight.

“You all are doing a hair braiding party without Mama K!” she acted shocked. Aralia shook her head no, despite Thaniel trying to keep her from doing it. “Join us, mommy! Daddy needs his braided,” she said pointing back to Halsin. He looked up at Karlach with a smile, “I think Lia is right. My hair is getting in the way.”

Karlach did a little fist pump. It was cute when she got this excited. “Fuck yeah-”

“Karlach!” Halsin warned.

“Sorry,” she whispered and walked over to him.

He felt her get behind him. Without her engine, she did not run as hot as before. She still was the warmest out of the three of them and Lyria was always curled up next to her during the cold mornings. Karlach was gentle as she worked on his hair. Oliver ran over and placed some flowers beside them. “Here use these for your hair. I don’t need them for my crowns,” he said then running back to sit by Aralia. The two of them worked on the crowns while the others worked on hair.

“There is my family,” Lyria said with a big grin. Oliver perked up and ran over to them. He was always closer to them than Halsin and Karlach. He wondered if it was because Lyria played with him before he reunited with Thaniel. They were the first real person to give him attention after years of solitude. They gave his head a pat before turning their attention back to everyone else. “Seems they have left us short-haired people out,” they laughed. Lyria said that but their hair was getting longer. The braid that the three of them each have had since their wedding ceremony looked like it needed to be touched up. Oliver laughed but shook his head no, “Maybe you Ani, but Ara and I have been working on flower crowns.” He held one up for Lyria. The bard smiled and put it on their head.

Halsin and Karlach were both watching with a smile. Lyria was practically glowing. One hand rested on their small bump as Oliver led them over to their little braiding line. “Mama K still needs her hair braided,” Karlach said with a smirk. “That you do. Let me help get you get all dolled up,” they said with a wink.

Before Lyria could sit, Halsin felt Karlach get up. She ran off but quickly appeared with a cushion for them. Halsin stopped to also help them. “Guys, I can sit down,” they laughed but accepted the help from them. It was getting a little harder for them to move around and Karlach and he were worry worts. Once Lyria was comfortable, they got back into their spots and got to work.

It was a wonderful way to end the afternoon. Lyria got them all singing while they braided. After that the three children ran around in the water, splashing away while the three of them watched and cuddled. By the end, Aralia was asleep against Halsin’s chest. Most of the flowers were missing from her hair now. Thaniel (who had no flowers in his hair now) and Oliver roughhoused with Karlach. Lyria was resting their head on his arms, trying not to fall asleep. Halsin smiled as he noticed the two little crowns resting on their belly.

Halsin loved his family so much and thanked the gods every day for Lyria and Karlach. Tonight he would definitely show them all his love and appreciation. For now, though, he will cuddle his family and watch them have fun.

Thank you for reading! I posted this on AO3 too if you wanna read

Also here are some headcanons:

Aralia is half-tiefling half-elf. She does have Karlach's, Halsin's, and Lyria's dna in her. Halsin found a potion that Lyria had to drink the first three months of their pregnancy that made the baby all theirs. She has very pale pink skin, horns, auburn hair, and two colored eyes. One red one brown.

Halsin, Karlach, and Lyria adopted Thaniel when they went to the shadowcurse lands to create their grove. Oliver never stayed out after playing until Aralia was born. After that, the two never combined again, unless they needed to. Later when they are older they learn to fight using that skill. They do “grow older”, but that is just because they want to grow with Aralia and their future siblings

Ani is Lyria's parent name. Being called mother made them dysphoric so Karlach came up with Ani.

Karlach can't carry kids because of the experiments done on her during her time in Avernus, so Lyria carries.

#tav x karlach x halsin #tav x halsin #tav x karlach #karlach x halsin #family fluff #fanfic #ao3 #baldur’s gate 3 #karlach #halsin #baldurs gate tav #bg3 #pregnancy

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bbwithaknife · 1 year

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Cornfields (Corey Cunningham x Reader)

Hello hello happy Friday 13th! Enjoy some angst with this spooky boy. Note that italics are a flashback! You can also find me on Twitter and AO3 as ArtrMrgn

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, knife mention. If you think of anything else let me know!

Word Count: 1,384

Music blasts from the bar. Some song about a girl pining for a man she'll never get. Oh, the irony. You look down at your almost-empty red solo cup and swirl around the contents, trying your best not to steal glimpses of the Cat and the Scarecrow.

You know both identities, in reality. Allyson Nelson and Corey Cunningham. Allyson was your towns Winona Ryder knock off from "Heathers" but it suited her. She had "effortless cool girl" down pat, which you admired.

And unfortunately, were also jealous of. But deep down you knew it wasn't really for her cool girl demeanor but rather the attention she was getting from the straw man in the purple hat.

Curly haired cutie pie Corey Cunnigham had you head over heels. The reluctant Mama's boy with no social circle was really who you were wanting to lay it all on the line for.

If anyone had a hell of a life at 24, it was Corey. All of Haddonfield knew the reason why and 99% of the town despised him. But save for you and the Strode's, you were all that Corey had in his corner.

The two of them were moving out of sync, but they were both having fun and in the end that’s what Corey needed and deserved.

You chug the remainder of your drink and crush your cup, tossing it into the trash. It’s not like you came to the bar with Corey anyway. To be honest you hadn’t really shared more than a few words with him since the cornfields.

As the mud squished between the grooves of your boots taking the fallen autumn leaves and dry corn husks with it, you regretted not following Corey’s lead. He had brought garbage bags, the ones you use for the bin in the bathroom or the trash can under the kitchen sink, and had tied them around his ankles with some twine, saving the canvas of his sneakers and rubber outsoles.

Another step had you cringing slightly. The squish of clay earth between your feet never felt pleasant and was a bitch to clean off. It didn’t help that dry pieces of corn kernels would be stuck in your boots making it look like a dog’s shit when it got into the canned goods. Fucking gross.

Corey Cunningham couldn’t help but let out a chuckle in jest as you tried and failed to put as little pressure as possible into the ground.

“It’s a sensory thing!” You whined, turning around to meet his smile with your own almost face to face. You hadn’t realized how close he had gotten. Even with the awful squelch of mud Corey was as quiet as a mouse. He towered over you despite his humble stature.

“Want me to carry you?” He offered, bending his knees and bracing himself for a piggy-back.

“Well, if you insist.”

Your friendship with Corey made you stick out like a sore thumb. It didn’t bother you one bit.

What did bother you was this “thing” going on between the two of you. It was a relatively new feeling, that swarm of butterflies in your stomach when a touch lingered too long. It was something you wanted to embrace so last week you pushed the envelope and pecked him on the check. Quick. Sweet. Innocent. To your surprise, Corey had planted one on you right back. Most likely out of reflex, no doubt an action ingrained into his mind by his toxic matriarch. But when Corey had realized what he’d done, he made a half-assed excuse and rode off on his bicycle.

Neither of you had mentioned it since and it was eating you up inside. When you had asked him to visit the corn-maze and he’d eagerly agreed you’d thought maybe it wasn’t just one sided. But so far both of you have been too chicken to do anything.

You were saddling up on auto-pilot when he shook you out of your thoughts by giving your thighs the slightest squeeze, securing you in place.

Your face flushed.

“Ready?”

“Green light, Steve McQuee-“ the words barely left your mouth before he broke in stride. But the pace didn’t last long.

It happened in seconds but you felt like you were falling in slow motion. Your eyes took in the scene before you; a sneakered foot sticking out of the cornfields, the muddy surface below about to hit your face, and the grip Corey had on you trying his damndest to make sure he ate the most shit.

As the force of your body collided with Corey and the ground, your ears filled with the annoying laughter of pimple popping high school band geeks who thought they were hot shit. You wished people were better than this.

You climbed off of Corey's back and offered him a hand up. He was caked in dirt, but his hold had saved you from the sensory overload of mud drying on your skin. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt, smearing everything in the process. You took the sleeve of your jacket between your fingers to wipe the mud from Corey's now cracked glasses. That'll be the third pair now this year, damn it. You knew Joan was going to give him an earful, but that's an issue for later. Right now, you needed to get these dweebs to scram.

"Well if it isn't Corey Cunningham!" one of them shouts. "What're you doing here? Scouting for your next victim?"

Corey stayed silent, looking at the ground. Your eyes pierced daggers into theirs.

"Why don't you kids pick on somebody from your own age group?" You retort, voice dripping with annoyance. Instinctively you step in front of Corey.

"What the hell are you going to do about it?"

Your rage gets the best of you and you react before thinking. Your hand is in and out of your pockets in a flash and you procure your butterfly knife, flicking it into place. The colour immediately drains from the teens faces. You figuratively kick yourself as you take in their expressions. You may have overreacted.

You didn’t typically carry it with you, but lately, with the number of cuts and scrapes you’re cleaning up on Corey, you thought it best to bring something to at least scare people off. And what better than your incredibly niche hobby of knife tricks. Now that you’re in the moment though? It’s not looking like the best idea you’ve ever had.

"Christ, you're just as psycho as he is!" They all run off back into the fields, likely to continue their parade of mischief. As you hear the crunch of their footsteps begin to fade away, you tuck the blade away and shamefully turn to Corey. You weren't exactly sure what to expect from him, but you didn't think the outcome would be positive.

Before the apology can leave your mouth, the muddy man of your dreams hugs you and holds you close and for a moment you forget he’s covered in icky mud because he’s got your stomach doing summersaults. With his warm breath on your neck and his nose brushing up against your ear he mumbles a thank you. You want to kiss him and say anytime.

Corey pulls away, his large hands now firmly on your shoulders and he lets out a half-hearted laugh.

And that’s when teeth clash and lips bruise. It’s awkward and clumsy and wet but it’s Corey.

And it’s over as soon as it starts.

That damn kiss.

You had a strong feeling that kiss had to be his first but … the way it made you feel like a pine tree going - poof! - up in flames? Let’s give credit where credit is due.

He ran off immediately after that. Hopped off the bike and sped off. Every text you’ve sent requesting to talk about it and every phone call’s on been screened. After a few days you gave up and took the heartbreak with grace on the outside, while crying yourself to sleep over a stupid boy on the inside.

You look over to Corey one last time. He's on the floor smiling, looking up to Allyson.

Making your way home by foot, you cut through the cornfields.

#corey cunningham x reader #corey cunningham #bbwithaknife

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