#//flops on here after vacuuming

[mechahero]

//Thinking about video game-esque stuff for Lambda again. Save points for him would either be a game console or one of his favorite magazines.

[bagofshinyrocks]

A Little Bump on the Head

Prompt: As your and Simon’s little man is exploring the living room, he bumps his head. Simon is almost more upset than the baby is. [Requested by anonymous]

Featuring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.6k

Warnings: none

You were so relieved when the little man started to entertain himself.

Watching birds and dogs outside, building blocks, sorting colorful balls and toys, climbing through a series of tunnels made by his daddy from recycling.

Simon was home as much as possible, deployments never being more than a week, and demanding desk-duty or training on base. But it was still hard to run a two-adult one-infant household with both of you only getting a few hours of home-making between you. 

And sometimes, both of you needed some sleep. Sometimes he had a late night at work. Sometimes baby decided to scream at 4 AM and scare both of you so horribly that you couldn’t fall back asleep even after the baby was all snork mi mi mi.

You were re-reading some comics on the couch, encouraging the little man as he scribbled on his coloring pages or crawled to follow the robot vacuum. Once Simon finished loading the dishwasher, he came in and flopped on top of you.

“Ohhhh, what a comfortable pillow.”

“Heavy,” you grunted, freeing your arms and wrapping them around your husband.

“You callin’ me fat?”

“Just a smidgen. In a sexy way.”

Your baby suddenly sat up and vocalized. A happy smile when his dad waved. With a great heave, he pulled himself up on the chair and started making his way over to you.

Eager coos and cheers from both of you, as he waddled from the chair to the coffee table.

A hiccup! An obstacle! Your son falls on his bum. But he perseveres and pulls himself back up again.

But he misjudges and bonks his head on the underside of the coffee table instead. He falls back on his rear. And his sweet face crumbled and flushed as he started to cry.

Both of you jerked forward, reaching for him and starting to comfort him. Simon rolled off you  and onto the floor and scooped the boy up in his arms.

“Oh, bubba,” he hushed, cradling the lightly bumped head into his chest, “it’s alright. You’re alright.”

You wrapped around your husband and gently rubbed your son’s back. He stopped fussing fairly quickly, just sniffling and holding on tight to his daddy.

The top of your boy’s head had only a slight bump on it; nothing you needed to worry about. A light reddened line where he hit the corner, and not even that raised of an egg. He had done this a couple times before.

You looked to Simon to reassure him that the boy was okay and almost started tearing up yourself. The baby was quietly leaning into his daddy’s chest, and your husband was the one fighting back tears.

“Baby,” you coo, cupping Simon’s face in your hands and kissing his cheek. Then kissing your son’s before he could get jealous. “Baby, he’s fine. Just a little bump. He’s had worse.”

Simon nodded, not trusting his voice, and kissed the top of the baby’s head.

A few minutes later, the boy was crawling through his cardboard maze. Moisturized. Flourishing. Living his best life. And now you had your husband in your arms.

“He’s alright.”

“I know but he bumped his head while coming to see me-”

“Shush. Not your fault.” You leaned him back and pinched his nose.

“He’s just learning his gross motor skills. It happens.”

Simon rubbed his nose. “They’re not gross.”

You almost laughed in his face, but didn’t, you were a good spouse. He was still upset. “As in gross motor skills versus fine motor skills.”

“... Oh.”

Enjoy reading this? Here's a link to my other works! Thanks for reading :-)

Posted: 2023 December 25

[kefiteria]

💌 Mess and Mellow Moments

• Rafayel, though he grumbles about chores, ends up showing his affection in the simplest way after a long day of cleaning.

💌 Sylus 💌 Zayne 💌 Xavier

It was a lazy afternoon, and you had decided that it was finally time to clean the house. The clutter from the past few days had accumulated, and there was no escaping it. Rafayel, however, was not thrilled by the idea.

“Cleaning? Ugh, I thought we were supposed to be relaxing today.” Rafayel groaned and flopping dramatically onto the couch, staring up at the ceiling as if the very thought of tidying up was a personal betrayal.

You chuckled and grabbed the cleaning supplies. “It’s not like we can leave the house a mess. You do live here, you know.”

Rafayel still lounging on the couch, gave you a sidelong glance, his trademark smug grin making an appearance. “I live here alone, and you just… exist here~” he shot back, raising an eyebrow as he stretched dramatically. “But fine, if you insist on doing chores, I’ll supervise. It’s what I pay you for, right?”

“Oh, you’ll supervise? How very helpful of you.” You raised an eyebrow at his antics.

“Exactly~” he said, leaning back and striking a pose with his hands behind his head. “Now get to work.”

“You know…" you said slowly glancing over at him, “don’t blame me if I end up throwing out some things you really need.”

Rafayel’s eyes widened for a split second before he quickly recovered with a pout. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.” you replied with a grin tugging at your lips.

As you dusted the shelves, Rafayel half-heartedly picked up a broom, holding it awkwardly like it was some foreign object. He gave it an experimental twirl before putting it down with a huff.

“This is so beneath me…" he muttered, though you could tell he was mostly just being dramatic.

“Then why don’t you go sit back down?” you teased, still working on wiping down the counters.

“Who said I was sitting?” He looked at you with an exaggerated pout, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m just waiting for you to finish so I can admire how clean you’ve made everything. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Sure, Rafayel. If it wasn’t for you, I’d never get anything done~” you said with a grin, knowing how much he secretly loved the attention.

After a while, you both got caught up in the task. Rafayel, despite all his grumbling, ended up vacuuming while scrolling on his phone with one hand. Sometimes, he’d toss in a sarcastic remark, but it wasn’t long before he started to take it a little more seriously.

You caught him trying to clean a shelf with a rag… but the rag was completely dry. “You’re not supposed to clean with a dry cloth, Rafayel.” you pointed out, chuckling at his effort.

“Who needs a wet cloth?” he snapped, looking defensive. “I’m just… um, air-dusting.”

“Fine, I’ll fix it. Happy?” He rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed at being caught, but there was a small smile tugging at his lips. Though you can't help but burst out laughing at his attempt to cover up his mistake.

“Very.” you said while wiping a tear from your eye. “But I think you’re the one who needs cleaning now.”

Rafayel narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”

“Look at your hands.” you pointed out, and with a mock gasp then added, “Oh no, you have dust on your fingers! Whatever shall we do?”

He glanced down at his hands in mock horror, only to realize he’d gotten dust on his fingers from handling the rag. “I knew this was a bad idea!” he whined, dramatically rubbing his hands together, trying to get rid of the evidence.

“Well, maybe next time you’ll think twice before handling cleaning supplies.” You crossed your arms with a smirk, watching his theatrics.

Rafayel froze and his expression faltering. “W-what?” he stammered, his face turning slightly flustered.

“Admit it~” you grinned, leaning in playfully and pinching his cheek. “You secretly love being a little messy, don’t you?”

He pouted, holding up his now-dusty hands with a groan. “Great, now I look like some pathetic excuse of a person who can’t even clean up without making a mess…" he muttered, shaking his hands in the air dramatically. “How am I supposed to look dashing now?”

You stifled a laugh, watching his exaggerated pout. “You’re just full of complaints today, aren’t you?”

“I look like a disaster!” he complained, wiping his hands on his shirt in a futile attempt to clean them. “How is this supposed to be charming? You’re lucky I’m handsome or this would be a catastrophe!”

He crossed his arms and turned his head, pretending to be unimpressed, but the small flush on his face said otherwise. “Pfft, whatever. Don’t get all smug about it,” he muttered, but his grin betrayed him. “We’re done now, right?”

“You bet. But just remember, you're not as perfect as you think~” you teased, picking up the last of the supplies with a mischievous grin.

“Not perfect? ME? Clearly, you don’t appreciate genius when you see it.” He gave you his usual exaggerated and dramatic sigh, his lips forming a small pout as if you’d just insulted his very existence.

“Sure, sure, Rafayel. You can keep pretending you're perfect.” You chuckled with raising an eyebrow.

He stuck his tongue out at you and made a face, his pout deepening. “I don’t have to prove anything to you. You already know I’m right!” he grumbled, though there was a playful edge to his tone.

Before you could respond, Rafayel suddenly moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist in a hug. His head rested gently on your shoulder, and his pout turned into a soft grumble. “Fine, I’ll admit it. I’m not perfect. But I’m still better than everyone else.” he muttered against your neck, his voice laced with that familiar mix of arrogance and affection.

Feeling his arms around, you decide to leaning back into his embrace “That’s the Rafayel I know.”

With the house now clean and the teasing settled, the two of you simply sat there, wrapped in each other's arms. The chores were forgotten, the day winding down to its perfect, quiet end.

[arjwrites]

— Good to know bc im here to request another Castiel x Winchester!reader (oldest sister) hehehehe...

Remember when Castiel became a human and that reaper April used him? I was thinking about the reader in her place, where she ACTUALLY likes Cas and takes care of him. The reader really loves him and doesn't care that he's a human now with no angel powers, he's still the man/angel she loves and care (I'm still mad that Dean kicked Cass out of the bunker)

It's his first time being human, he deserves some love 😞 (And I rlly need some comfort aughhh)

I think I wrote too much, sorry! It's just that I really love human Castiel, he deserved more ❤️‍🩹 — 👼 angel anon

Lessons on Humanity- Human!Castiel x Reader

Summary: Human!Cas arrives on your doorstep in need of a helping hand. Taking him under your wing, you offer him more than he bargained for.

Warnings: None (I don't think???) GN!Reader, no use of Y/N

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Well, this took forever. Idk why this gave me the WORST case of writer's block ever, but.... I think I just wanted it to be perfect for you, angel anon!!! I hope you enjoy hehehehehe <3333

Leaving hunting behind had been a tough decision, but leaving your brothers and Castiel behind had been even harder. But after all the years, your body screamed for rest, and your heart mourned the years of loss and trauma. It wasn’t like you had completely up and abandoned them- you still took their calls, visited the bunker from time to time, and took on many a research request (which had always been your specialty anyways). But you had grown so tired of the life. And as much as moving into the bunker had been a massive improvement from the endless series of motel rooms you’d grown up with, living in a concrete man-cave with your brothers had proven difficult. And you had always craved a home- somewhere that could be uniquely yours. This had led you to settle down into a sweet cottage, a bit off the beaten path in a quaint little town- not too far from the bunker, but far enough. It was cozy, nothing fancy by any means- two small bedrooms, a slightly outdated kitchen, and a snug little living room you had furnished with thrifted couches and a secondhand TV. What it lacked in elegance, it made up for in character. It wasn’t much, but it was home.

It was a Friday night. You had just gotten off work, ordered a pizza, popped your favorite playlist in your speakers, and were currently dancing around and vacuuming your living room. Ah, domesticities. It was always a nice feeling to be done for the weekend, to have a job you could hang up for a few days and not worry about until Monday morning rolled around. Not like hunting, with its worries that clung tight to you all hours of every day. After finishing your cleaning task, you flopped to the couch, clicking through the TV to find a suitable show to binge alongside your food. 

Two crisp knocks at the door pulled you from your search. That was quick, you thought to yourself. You practically skipped to the kitchen to grab your purse, wanting to hand the delivery driver a few extra dollars for the particularly speedy service. But when you swung the door open, more than just the chilly evening air sent a wave of shock your way. 

“Oh my God,” was about all you could whisper. In front of you stood Castiel, though he didn’t look much like his usual self. He wore a sweatshirt you didn’t recognize and had a slightly unkempt, unshaven look to him. But beyond his appearance, it didn’t feel like Cas. His shoulders were slumped over as if he was carrying the weight of them for the first time. He wore an expression so tired, so hurt, that your heart broke at the sight of it. 

“Cas, honey. What happened?” 

“I don’t have my grace. I… lost it. They told me I couldn’t stay. I didn’t want to bother you, but… I didn’t know where else to go.” 

“Oh, Cas. Come in, God, come in.” Your brow furrowed as you gestured for him to enter, concern filling your body. What had you missed? Why didn’t he have his grace? Why wasn’t he with Sam and Dean?

Cas gingerly stepped through your door, barely making it inside the threshold before turning to you, as if he was waiting to follow your lead.

“Come, come sit,” you beckoned him after you, leading him into the living room and patting a seat for him on the couch. He sat, glancing around your room before landing his gaze back to you. You could tell there was something different about him- it was like he was seeing everything around him for the first time. 

“So tell me what happened, Cas,” you hummed, gathering every ounce of soothing calm you could muster in hopes you could offer him some comfort.

Cas jumped into his story, telling you all about Metatron, the angels, and him losing his grace- all the things you had missed out on since stepping back from hunting. You nodded along, listening intently, compassionately, quietly- that is, until he told you about the events that lead him to your doorstep.

“He kicked you OUT?” You rose to your feet as he said this, unable to contain your anger in your seated posture. You felt the rage bubble from the deepest part of your stomach, rising quickly to your chest. Poor, sweet Castiel, who tries so hard and deserves so much. Cast out like he was nothing. It was enough to drive you into a blind rampage. Cas, on the other hand, remained seated, eyes fixed to the carpet, dejected. 

“I just don’t know what to do. I have all these… feelings I’m not used to.” 

“Of course you don’t, honey. It’s all so new. I’ll help you figure things out, alright?” You thought for a moment about what may be most urgent. “Cas, how long have you been human for?”

“Well, a few days now.”

“And have you eaten? Drank water? Slept?” 

“I had a candy bar.” 

“Oh, you poor thing, Cas. Look… Sit tight, I’m going to get you a glass of water, and I have food on the way. Do you like pizza? No, you don’t know if you like pizza, do you…” You let your voice trail off as you hustled to the kitchen, fixing him a glass of water and returning it to him hastily. 

Cas lifted the glass, inspecting it, before tipping it back and downing it in one go. You watched the water slide out of the cup, disappearing down his throat in record time. There was one basic need supported. 

“Alright, Cas, why don’t you sit there and relax for a little? I’m going to go make up the guest bedroom for you. Is that alright?” You tilted your head to the side to better gauge his thoughts on the matter. Cas returned you a soft smile and nodded. You let out a subtle puff of breath in relief before retreating up the stairs. 

As you grabbed bedding from the linen closet and began to stretch the fitted sheet over the mattress, you couldn’t help but allow your body to take over the menial routine, while your mind fluttered off elsewhere. The angry pit in your stomach persisted, a deepening disgust for the way the angel had been treated, including by your brothers, of all people. But nestled in your chest above your swirling stomach sat your heart, which swelled at the thought of Cas, here with you. In all honesty, he had always meant a lot to you. You had so much admiration, so much reverence for the angel- of course, now that he wasn’t exactly an angel, that didn’t change anything. That was never what it was about. You saw deeper than just Cas’s angelic power- you saw him. Grace or not, there was no changing that. This was still the same angel, the same man, the same being you had always known. Only now, he really needed someone to be there for him. And you intended to do that- slowly, surely, gently. 

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your name being called from down the stairs. Instantly, your mind snapped to the worst-case scenario- call it a lingering hunter’s instinct. You raced down the stairs, only to find Cas perched on the couch, exactly where you had left him.

“Someone knocked on the door,” he whispered wide-eyed, as if it was some sort of intruder behind the door, waiting politely to be let in so he could go about his business.

You breathed a sigh of relief, willing yourself not to get frustrated at the poor man- he had no idea. Scared, lost, confused Castiel. 

“It’s just the pizza, sweetheart. Don’t worry,” you replied, giving him a soft smile of encouragement. 

With the pizza paid for, food on your plates, and your favorite mindless comfort show on TV, you and Cas began to settle in for the night. You and Cas. It was insane to see the angel in such a domestic setting. The two of you were sat at opposite ends of the couch, nibbling pizza in silent unison. You weren’t sure what to do or say, overwhelmed by Cas’s newfound presence, heartbroken by the things he had experienced, and overall just worried for his wellbeing. But, out of fear of pushing his limits- he had already been through so much the last few days- you fell into a comfortable silence that padded the space between you. 

That silence was broken by a yawn coming from the other end of the couch. Cas’s face contorted in a decidedly un-angelic expression, before drawing inwards in confusion. A giggle inched its way towards your lips, but you suppressed it.

“You must be tired, Cas. Let’s go up to bed,” you hummed. Quickly and efficiently, you snapped off the TV, balanced your drinking glasses and plates on top of the pizza box, and slid everything into its rightful place in the kitchen. Re-emerging to the living room, you extended a hand to Cas, pulling him up to his feet before turning to lead him up the stairs. 

“This is your room, over here,” you pointed, ducking in the door to show him around. You snapped the bedside lamp on to illuminate the space. “The bathroom is just down the hall if you need to use it. And my room is just next door, if you need anything at all.” 

Cas’s eyes scanned the room before settling back on you. He threw a tight-lipped smile, murmuring his thanks. He was bashful, certainly overwhelmed by the avalanche of human emotion and sensation he was experiencing. You really didn’t want to push it, but there was one more thing you wanted to offer him. 

Crossing the room, you pulled Cas into a hug. You felt his hands hover for a moment before he rested them across the middle of your back.

“I’m sorry, Cas. You didn’t deserve any of this. But I’m here to help you, whatever you need, okay? You deserve to have someone be there for you.” It was a desperate plea for the man to recognize his self-worth, to provide him with a bit of comfort during this terrifying transition. Your words weighed heavy in the room, anticipating a response that never came. But, you could’ve sworn you felt Cas’s shoulders dip and the muscles of his back soften into the hug. 

After a minute, you pulled away, snapping back to your lighthearted self. You wished the man a good night, retreating from the room and closing the door behind you. Crossing the hall and tucking yourself into bed, it wasn’t long before you drifted to sleep.

-

You rose early the next morning. Usually, you would stroll downstairs in your bathrobe or whatever mismatched pajamas you slept in, but this morning you hopped in the shower straight away, dressing and fixing your hair. Once you made your way down to the kitchen, you got to work pulling together a breakfast you thought Cas would enjoy- pancakes, bacon, and some fruit, all while brewing a pot of coffee. You weren’t sure he’d have much of a taste for it yet, but you certainly were in need of a cup. 

As you neared the end of your preparation, you heard the guest bedroom door swing open. Cas descended the stairs into the kitchen, somehow looking slightly more disheveled than when he had arrived on your doorstep the night before.

“Good morning, sunshine!” You offered, hoping he would take it in jest.

“Hello,” he responded. His eyes were puffed with sleep, his hair stuck up in every possible direction, face dotted with yesterday’s stubble that was inching into scruffy beard territory. Looking at him was a clear reminder that you needed to help him figure out how to clean himself up today. 

“How’d you sleep, hun?” In any other conversation, this would be a simple pleasantry, but in this case, it was an earnest inquiry.

“Not well. I think I had a dream. It was terrible,” he replied. His gaze remained vacant.

“A dream?” You thought for a moment- was it the sensation of dreaming that he wasn’t used to? Or was it a nightmare? “Tell me about it, Cas.”

“Well, I don’t remember a lot of it. I just remember I was running. And when I woke up, my heart was pounding and I was sweating and I couldn’t breathe. But I didn’t actually run- just in the dream.” 

“Oh, Cas, honey, you had a nightmare.” You approached him, reaching up a hand to run a thumb over his stubbled cheek. “If that ever happens again, you can always come into my room. I’m right next door.”

“How will that help?” He inquired.

“Well, sometimes it’s nice to talk about it, if you want. Or, sometimes it’s just nice to be around someone else, so you don’t feel like you’re facing it alone.”

His nod in response sent a surge of care through your body. Rather than sitting there, gushing over him, you figured you’d channel your worry into something productive- getting him fed. 

“Well, I made some breakfast. Have a seat, I’ll make you a plate.”

You pulled out a chair for him at the table, gesturing for him to sit down, before scrambling to pull together a plate piled high with a stack of pancakes, a few slices of bacon, and some strawberries and bananas you had carefully sliced. You rested the plate in front of him, giving him a minute to inspect it, before returning to grab food for yourself. 

“Well, what do you think? I figured chocolate chip pancakes would be a safe bet. Everyone likes chocolate chip pancakes.”

Castiel clumsily sliced another bite from the pancake, lifting it to his mouth. He chewed pensively, mulling over the question.

“How do I know if I like it?” 

You thought for a moment.

“Good question. Does it make you feel happy?”

He nodded. “I think so.”

“Well, Cas, I think you’ll find that one of the great joys of humanity is the opportunity to figure out what makes you happy. We don’t get a lot of say in what goes on down here, but we do get to pick our favorite foods, favorite colors, favorite people, and fill our lives with those. It’s the small pleasures that make the difference.”

He considered your words for a moment, before spearing another bite with his fork. You giggled to yourself. It was adorable to watch him navigate the things you took for granted with so much fascination and uncertainty- something as small as taking a bite of food required all of his concentration and contemplation.

As you sipped your coffee, you considered the task that lay before you. It was your job to teach Cas how to be human- something you wouldn’t necessarily call yourself an expert on. With hunting dominating your upbringing and occupation thus far, you certainly hadn’t had the normal human experience. But you took the challenge in stride, knowing that Cas had much to learn. 

-

Saturday had come and gone. You had spent the entire day teaching Cas a crash course in human life skills, covering important topics like brushing your teeth (which proved more difficult than you thought it would be), remembering to drink water (you struggled with this yourself most of the time), shopping (the two of you thrifted him a whole wardrobe), and anything else you could think of as you went about your usual routine. 

As the day wound down, you and Cas sat on your back porch. The emerging twilight buzzed, and a warm breeze filtered through the trees and wrapped itself around the two bodies curled up in the lawn chairs. You were tired, he was tired, so another comfortable silence had settled into its now familiar place between the two of you. You could faintly hear the sound of children laughing and a mother calling after them, voices muffled by the distance that separated you from these neighbors down the street. You smiled to yourself, and Cas took notice. 

“Thank you for helping me today,” he offered hesitantly, as if afraid to disturb your thoughts.

“Anytime, Cas.” You were still a bit lost in thought as you responded.

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Why does being human feel so… Heavy?”

There was something about his tone of voice that snapped you out of your daze. Turning to him, you instantly recognized the worry that was weighing on him. 

“I just… I used to be a soldier. I had divine purpose. I’ve always had something to work towards, and now… I don’t know what I’m doing anymore.”

“Life is a complicated thing, Cas. Most people spend an entire lifetime figuring out their purpose. You may be thousands of years old, but you’ve only been doing the whole human thing for a few days. Be patient with yourself.” 

“You seem to handle it all pretty well. Leaving hunting, making a life for yourself. You have it all figured out,” he frowned.

“Want to know a secret?”

He nodded, silently, eagerly. 

“I’m not handling it well. And I don’t have it all figured out. Nobody does. That’s the whole game. That’s life. You take what you’re given and you do what you can with it. But the beauty is, you get to choose.” 

“How do I know what to choose?” 

You smiled in spite of yourself. 

“That’s the big question. No one knows what’s right for you except you.” 

Cas’s hand reached across to yours, giving it a squeeze that sent your heart aflutter. Fingers intertwined, you settled back into the evening, pensive.  

- 

Sleep that night hadn’t come easy by any means. What had started as worry had now spiraled into full-on anxiety, warding you away from slipping into sleep. Each time you closed your eyes, your mind drifted down the hall to Castiel, separated from you by nothing more than a dozen footsteps and couple pieces of drywall. It was as if you could feel his inner turmoil. And beyond that, your heart ached for the man. All you wanted to do was go to him, be with him, comfort him. But the fear that you were taking advantage of his newly human state still plagued you, so you lingered rigid and sleepless in your bed. Just as you rolled over to attempt comfort and hopefully find some sleep, there was the faintest knock at your door- so quiet, you barely registered it. 

At first, you weren’t sure if you had actually heard the sound, but when the noise was followed by slow footsteps shuffling away, you snapped up in bed.  

“Cas! Come in,” you called. After a second, the door swung open.

“I had another one. A nightmare.” Cas spoke matter of factly, and yet, very soft and reserved. He lingered in your doorway, timid, waiting for you to give your blessing on his entrance.

“Oh, come in, sweetheart. Come sit.” You patted the space beside you, the noise muffled by the thick, fluffy comforter. Cas made his way into a seated position on the bed.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, hesitant to pry but insistent on providing support.

“No.” His response was tense and succinct without being rude- you knew he was processing a lot of feelings, and wanted to give him grace.

“That’s okay. Would you like some time to think through it? Or would you like to be distracted?” 

“I’m not sure.”

“Take your time. I’m here.” 

There was a beat of silence. Giving him space was your top priority, as much as you wanted to leap across the bed and into his arms. 

“Maybe, distracted?”

“Sure thing. I’ll put on a movie, we can watch for a bit.” You snatched the remote from the table beside you, flipping through a few movies you thought Cas may enjoy, before settling on a lighthearted Disney movie. Your finger pressed play and adjusted the volume to a dull hum. 

You watched for a while in silence. As the movie was picking up, breaking out into a cheerful musical number, your eyes darted to Cas. Expecting to see him enamored by the animated wonderland, you were taken aback when his eyes locked with yours instantly. It was like he had been looking at you the whole time. 

“Hey, Cas.” He wouldn’t look away, and the eye contact was entrancing.

“Hi.” His voice was gruff, a mix of sleep and something else you weren’t entirely sure of, though you were starting to get an idea. 

“How are you doing?” 

“Better, now. Because I’m with you.” His words sent a wave of warmth through your body as you felt yourself inching closer to him, subconsciously. Clearly, he felt the same pull, as you both shifted to face each other directly. 

“Can I ask you about another feeling?” He was usually bashful with his questions, but this time, his voice was steady. His eyes were fixed on you with an almost palpable intensity, a kind of focus that made you fidget, suddenly so aware of yourself. 

“Of course,” you responded. He was now just inches away from your face. 

“What is this feeling I get when I’m this close to you?” His words were slow and genuine, and yet in some ways, it seemed like he already knew.

“What do you mean?” 

“It feels a lot like the nightmare. My heart beats fast and I can’t breathe. But it’s… Different. It’s good. I like it.” His eyes flickered as the words melted you.

He was so close to your face you could feel each breath tickle your nose and lips, as if pressing gentle precursors to tease you into taking the next step.

“Can I try something else you might like?” You could barely speak above a whisper.

He began to nod, lifting his head, but before he could complete the motion, all your defenses came crashing down, and you melted together- lips and limbs intertwining as one. And for the first time since becoming human, Castiel truly felt peace.

-

There’s something special about humanity. Sure, it has its ups and downs. There’s pain, fear, grief, death. Cas knew all those things already. They were what scared him most when he lost his grace. But he could have never known this, without experiencing it for himself. 

The early hours of the morning crept into the bedroom. Everything about the room was warm and soft- a kind of heaven that rivaled even the real thing. Cas watched as the rays of sun slipped through the window to kiss your skin softer, sweeter, more intimately than he ever had. Yet. 

There were many things about being human he hadn’t been prepared for. He had lost purpose, drive, direction. When he was first stripped of his grace, it had felt like his newfound heartbeat was mocking him with every pulse. But now? That heart served to pump more than just blood through his veins. His heart beat for you. His whole angelic life, he had been guided by divine word, but nothing had ever felt as holy as you, here, sleeping in his arms. You had taught him humanity, alright. And now, he finally had the chance to do something, to feel something, to experience something more beautiful than he could’ve ever imagined. He could love you.

Cas let the sounds of your breathing lull him back to sleep.

[petitemistletoe]

Presents of Mind

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Warnings: smut, angst

Word Count: 5.2K+

A/N: Do wizards have grad school? What comes after Hogwarts? Also idk why but its canon to me that Sirius walks around naked

“Why are you moping?” Harry asked you, poking your arm lightly as he sat down on the couch next to you. 

“I’m not moping.” You sighed and set your book down. 

“You are. You’ve been moping since you got that letter last night.” 

“That was my mom,” you sighed again, turning your body fully so you were facing Harry, “she’s going to the United States for Christmas to visit my brother and his wife and their new baby. It’s just going to be too crazy with the newborn so she wants me to stay with my weird Uncle Radolophus for the holidays. I told her I’d be fine here since I have about a mountain of work to finish for my advisor but she doesn’t want me to be alone.”

“Why don’t you stay with me for Christmas? This will be the first Christmas with my dad since my mom started dating Snape.” Harry had a disgusted look on his face. In Harry’s final year at Hogwarts, his parents announced they were getting divorced and his mother moved out of his house a few months later. Professor Snape had become even more insufferable as he tried to win Lily’s affection and luckily for everyone, Lily had waited until after Harry had been settled at university for his first year of a graduate program to start dating Snape. Harry had practically lost his mind and spent several weeks holed up in your shared apartment and you had to draw him out with chocolate frogs and butterbeer. 

“Are you sure? Your dad won’t mind?” 

“Nah, he’s nesting big time. He’s cooking a whole giant dinner and it’s going to be just me, Sirius, and Remus.” Harry shrugged.

“It won’t be weird? Me staying in your childhood home?” You asked, thinking about seeing Harry’s childhood bedroom. 

“No, no, my dad rented a house in Cornwall. It’s a little tradition that him and his friends have. Come on! It’ll be fun. Cornwall at Christmas with my best friend. Snow on the beach!”

“Alright. I’ll come.” You nodded.  

You and Harry had been friends since first year but you had strangely never met and had barely even seen Harry’s father. Harry’s mother had been more involved in all the school things and you supposed that’s why Lily and Severus had grown close again. It wasn’t that James was absent, quite the opposite, he was almost always at Quidditch tournaments and of course took Harry to and from Kings Cross every September but you just never seemed to catch him for more than a few moments since first year. You had heard from Hermione and Ginny, however, that apparently the man was supposed to be drop dead gorgeous. 

“I’m leaving after my exam tonight. Meet you back here at seven?” Harry asked, getting up and stuffing his textbook into his bag. As Harry got ready to leave you heard a knock at your door. You got up off the couch to answer it and let Hermione and Ron in.  They were bickering, as they usually were, and settled down in yours and Harry’s apartment like it was their own. 

“Ron thinks that a vacuum cleaner is an appropriate Christmas gift for his parents.” Hermione sighed, pouring herself a cup of coffee while Ron flopped down on the couch next to you.

“It is! Mum loves to clean and dad’ll love that its a muggle invention.” Ron said, grabbing a throw pillow of the couch and burying his face in it. 

“Your mother is a person beyond the face that she’s your mother. Why don’t you think of a gift that fits one of her interests?”

“She hasn’t got any interests!” Ron groaned and removed the pillow slightly to check his watch, “Harry let’s go! We got to be at the lecture hall in twenty minutes!” 

“I’m coming! God, you two are so lucky you’re done with exams.” Harry said, shaking his head at you and Hermione. 

“Oh Harry! Molly wanted me to ask if you’re coming to spend Christmas with the Weasleys?” Hermione said, finally taking her place next to you on the couch with her warm cup of coffee. 

“No. I’m spending it with Dad this year. Plus, Ginny isn’t even going to be there, she’ll still be touring with the Cannons.”

“You don’t want to come to your best friend’s Christmas because your girlfriend won’t be there? We were friends before you even noticed Ginny!” Ron said, mouth open in shock. 

“Ron, I’m spending Christmas with my father. You can bear Christmas with your own girlfriend and family.” 

“Ugh, my family,” Ron sighed, “do you want to come?” He asked you. 

“Spending it with Harry.” You shrugged. Harry rolled his eyes then looked at you on the couch. “We’re heading out! See you when we get back.”

You waved and then turned back to Hermione after you heard the door shut. 

“So I’m spending Christmas with Harry.” You said. 

“Oh my God. Have you seen Harry’s dad?” She asked excitedly. 

“You know I haven’t! When was the last time you saw him?” 

“I got tea with Professor Lupin a few weeks ago and Harry’s dad stopped by his flat to drop off his broom. The divorce is serving him well, let me tell you. He looks fantastic.” Hermione grinned. 

“I don’t remember the last time I saw you this excited about Ron,” you joked gently. 

“Ron and I have been together for almost five years now,” Hermione said with a bored shrug, “He gets to ogle Fleur and I get to ogle Harry’s dad. As long as we come back to each other there’s no problem.”

“Okay,” you laughed, “I get it. But isn’t this a little weird? That’s Harry’s dad. He’s our best friend.” 

“Talk to me after you see him.” 

You thought about Hermione’s words long after she left your apartment. You had a small bag packed and you were fiddling around waiting for Harry to come back. You practiced transfiguring different objects in your apartment into different animals. You figured you had to stop, however, when you transfigured your fireplace into a dragon and it took a few more seconds than you thought it would to transfigure it back. Your walls were a little soot covered but you were up on a chair trying to get the soot off the ceiling when Harry got back. 

“What are you doing?” He asked with a surprised chuckle. 

“Uh, had a little scuffle with a dragon.” You said sheepishly. 

“Transfiguring the fireplace again?” He gave you a knowing look. 

“How was your exam?” You asked, getting off the chair and pushing it back towards the kitchen table. 

“It was alright. I’m ready to have a drink and not think about school for the next few weeks.” Harry said, setting his book bag down and grabbing his traveling bag. 

“Yeah, real smart of us to go from Hogwarts to uni to grad school without taking a breath.” You rolled your eyes and grabbed your own bag, threading your free hand into Harry’s and waiting for him to apparate.

You stumbled onto a stretch of beach with a large manor that overlooked the water. 

“So this is where we’re spending Christmas? I knew you came from money but I had no idea you were this well off. Sure you’re happy with Ginny?” You said, grabbing Harry’s cheek teasingly. 

“Shove off,” Harry rolled his eyes and led you to the front door. The manor was cute, comfy, and warm. It was more chic than the Weasley home, with newer furniture and more modern decor, but it was still homey. It smelled like warm butterbeer and cinnamon and you could hear casual conversation in the sitting room. Harry walked into the sitting room and you took in the two men who were sitting in there. One of the men was familiar to you, your old defense against the dark arts professor Remus Lupin and the other man was around the same age, with longer dark hair, a chiseled jawline and cheekbones, and a smattering of tattoos that were visible on his chest through his thin shirt. That couldn’t have been Harry’s father…could it? He was beautiful. But he didn’t really look like Harry and everyone was always telling Harry that he was the spitting image of his father.

“Hello,” you said, greeting the two men.

“Ah! There’s my favorite student.” Remus said, standing up and giving you a quick, respectful hug. 

“This is my godfather, Sirius Black.” Harry introduced you to the attractive man, Sirius, who stretched out his hand to you after giving Harry a tight hug. 

“Pleasure to meet you.” He winked at you and you fought down a blush. 

“So where’s my dad at?” Harry asked, flinging himself down on the couch and holding his arm out so you could sit down next to him. You obliged, snuggling up against Harry’s warm body and looking at the two men on the opposite couch. 

“He ran out to buy a few things you for you and your friend. He wanted to make the place feel as inviting as possible and make biscuits for the both of you.” Sirius said with an eyeroll. 

“How’s he been. You know, since it all with Mum and Snape?” Harry asked. Sirius and Remus exchanged a look before Remus shrugged his shoulders and exhaled deeply, his fingers rubbing his temples,

“It’s been hard. Have you talked to your mum recently?”

“No. Not really. She knows how I feel about her and Snape. We’ve gotten tea a few times since but she knows that I wanted to spend Christmas with Dad.” Harry said with a head shake. You felt a little awkward, like you were intruding on a private moment between Harry and his uncles, but you didn’t say anything, just stared at your hands. 

“I have no idea what she sees in old Snivellus.” Sirius rolled his eyes and earned a slap on the chest from Remus.

“Sirius!”

“Come on, you think so too,” Sirius rolled his eyes at Remus, “You hated him just as much when you were teaching as we did when we were at school.”

“Even so-” Remus started to rebut but you heard the sound of the front door shut and you were sure that James was finally home. He entered the sitting room and you had to remind yourself to breathe. He was just as gorgeous as Hermione and Ginny had described. He was tall, with dark hair and eyes and those glasses. He had an easy smile and was muscular the way that Quidditch players were but he also had a distinguished dusting of silver in his dark hair. He immediately bound to Harry and hugged him tightly, his bicep pressing up against your own on the couch. He then pulled away from Harry and focused his attention on you. 

“I’m sorry. Strangely, in the entire time you’ve been close friends with Harry we haven’t really made each other’s acquaintance. I’m James.” James wrapped you in a close hug. 

“Hi! It’s great to meet you,” you nodded, not exactly hating the feeling of his body on yours. 

“So, I thought we would have a little Shepard’s pie if that’s all right with you, love?” James asked Harry. It was clear that he doted on Harry and you thought it was very precious. You had seen the way that Lily had doted on Harry and while that was all well and good it was different from the way that James was doting and it was refreshing and beautiful. You smiled at the duo as you watched them. 

“Yeah, Dad, sounds great.” Harry grinned up at his father. James touched Harry’s cheek affectionately and got up to head back into the kitchen. Remus and Harry got up to help James and you were going to get up too but Sirius sat down on the couch next to you and grinned at you with that crocodile grin he was so good at. 

“So, darling, do you have any connection to the honorable House of Black?” Sirius asked you, his fingers tracing a shape on your arm. 

“No. I don’t believe I do.” You responded. Sirius grinned even wider.

“Perfect.” He said, showing off his white teeth. 

“Get off her, Padfoot!” James called from the kitchen. Sirius waved at James’ general direction and stretched his arms over your shoulders. 

“You wouldn’t happen to have daddy issues, do you?”

“Are you asking me that because you want to know if I’m into older men?”

“So are you?” Sirius leaned in closer to you so your nose was brushing against his. 

“I had a great relationship with my Dad. Right up until he died.”

“Oh,” Sirius’ smile dropped, “I’m sorry.”

“That’s alright,” you said, waving him off, “That’s all to say that I definitely have some daddy issues.” 

“Silver lining, then.” Sirius said, smiling. You wouldn’t have been surprised if in the following moments, Sirius was going to close the distance between you both and kiss you on the Potter’s couch but Remus walked in and threw an oven mitt at Sirius. 

“Sirius! You whore!” Remus said, feigning anger and walking over to punch Sirius in the shoulder. 

“Ow! Get off me, you’re cramping my style.” Sirius glared at Remus.

“You know what else should cramp your style? The fact that you’ve been dating me since sixth year.” Remus rolled his eyes. 

“So I’m not allowed to live?” Sirius shot back. You were laughing as you watched the match unfold and it looked like Remus was gearing up to shoot another smart remark back but Harry walked back in and said, 

“Dad says dinner is ready and for you two to kiss and make up.” Harry stretched his hand out to help you off the couch. You all took seats at the table. 

“If you wanted to watch us make out, Prongs, you should’ve just said so.” Sirius teased. James stuck his tongue out in return. You took a moment to imagine what it would be like to have that tongue all over your body. You promptly shook your head to rid yourself of the thought. 

“So darling,” James turned to look at you and fought the urge to blush, “Harry told me your last name is Siphera. Any relation to Jack Siphera?”

“Uh yes,” you nodded, pushing around a pea on your plate, “he was my father.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. He was an excellent dueler. A strong member of the Order, you remember him don’t you?” James asked Remus and Sirius. 

“Jack was a very kind man,” Remus smiled.

“Siphera…I didn’t know that he had passed. How did he die, if you don’t mind my asking.” Sirius asked. Remus was shaking his head but Sirius didn’t seem to notice. 

“He was murdered by Bellatrix when she tried to escape Azkaban.” You responded. 

“Bellatrix? My cousin Bellatrix? Bellatrix Lestrange?” Sirius asked, dropping his fork with a clatter.

“Do you know very many other Bellatrixes?” Harry asked. You started laughing and so did Harry until the two of you were both doubled over and gasping for breath.

“Alright,” James said, looking at you two warily, “I bought a bottle of firewhisky for us all, raise your glasses.” James poured everyone a generous helping of firewhisky and then raised another bottle of dark liquor for shots. 

“To many holidays together.” Sirius grinned at you as you clinked glasses. You tipped your head back and took the drink, swallowing against the harsh burn in your throat. A small droplet escaped past the side of your glass and made its way down your chin and dropped between your breasts. You became acutely aware of the eyes that were on you. You rubbed your mouth harshly and took a large sip of firewhisky, averting your eyes to look at Harry. His cheeks were a bit pink from the shot and he shot you a large, easy smile. 

The drinking continued and the evening ended with you and Harry stumbling into a free bedroom and falling asleep. You and Harry had often slept in the same bed, it started when you were in second year and you had both stayed up late revising for potions. 

When you rose the next morning, your mouth was painfully dry and your head was pounding. You nudged Harry lightly and he groaned in response. 

“What?”

“I need water.” You croaked. 

“So get water.” Harry moaned, putting his head into the pillow and trying to wrap the edges of the pillow around his ears. 

“I’m too hungover,” you shook your head. 

“Fine, open your mouth I’ll use the aguamenti spell.” Harry shoved himself up on his forearms and grabbed his wand. You opened your mouth and Harry cast the spell. Unfortunately for you both, it was with much more intensity than Harry had intended and you choked on the intense stream of water that had assaulted your throat. You and Harry began to laugh as you were both drenched in water.

“I’ll go down and make some tea,” Harry said, changing his shirt. 

“I’ll meet you down there, I’m just going to take a quick shower.” You stripped and wrapped a towel around you as you made your way to the bathroom. You let your body relax under the warm water and you thought about how Hermione and Ginny had been exactly right when it came to James. He was unbelievably gorgeous and you couldn’t stop thinking about when he hugged you, when his fingers bumped against yours as he was pouring drinks, as he brushed against you as he served dinner. It was intoxicating. There was also a detachable shower head that you grabbed and adjusted the water pressure. Once it got to a setting that was to your liking, you angled it so it was spraying a steady stream against your clit. You gasped softly at the pressure and let your head rest against the wall of the shower. You tried to imagine the old things that would get you going: the ripped quidditch players, the rugged wizards from romance novels, the occasional rockstar, but then James crossed your mind. The feeling of body against yours, how you imagined his lips felt against your neck. You imagined his cock entering you, the feeling of your body pressed against the shower wall as he pounded you from behind, his large hands on your waist, his breath hot against your neck. You came harder that you anticipated and you muffled your moans in the crook of your arm. You finished showering and changed into a fresh pair of clothes before descending the stairs. You felt your stomach churn in an unpleasant way when you smelled cooking from the kitchen. 

“Good morning,” you said, sitting down at the kitchen table and accepting a cup of tea from Harry who looked just as queasy as you felt. James looked like he had fully rested after a long night of sleep. All around him potatoes were being mashed, green beans were being washed, and a turkey was being stuffed. James himself was charming a rolling pin to roll out dough for scones. 

“Good morning! How did you sleep?” James beamed at you. 

“How is it that even now in our old age, you still have never been hungover?” Sirius groaned, walking into the kitchen completely stark naked and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“Sirius! Cover up. There’s a lady in the house.” James rolled his eyes. 

“What you haven’t seen this before?” Sirius thrust his hips forward a little and pointed at his dick. You laughed and shook your head. 

“Can’t say it’s my first time. Though it is my first time seeing a hickey there.” You and Harry both tilted your heads to get a better view of the large purplish bruise on the side of Sirius’ cock. 

“Moony gets teethy.” Sirius shrugged, leaning against the counter and taking a long sip of his coffee. Remus walked in a few moments later and rolled his eyes at Sirius, throwing a pair of boxers at Sirius’ chest. 

“Animals, the lot of you.” James shook his head. 

“Dad, did you want to go for a round on the pitch?” Harry asked, accio-ing his broom into his left hand. 

“Ah, I wish but I have to finish cooking.” James gestured to all the food around him. 

“I can cook! Go, it’s alright.” You smiled. James gave you a grateful smile and nodded,

“I’ll only be a few minutes.” 

“Take your time,” Remus waved him off, “I’ll stay and help too.”

“Cheers Moony!” James grinned, “Pads you coming?”

“Try and stop me.” Sirius laughed. The three boys scrambled outside and you could hear the chatter between them. You laughed to yourself and began to tend to the turkey. 

“It’s sweet isn’t it,” Remus said to you, “the bond between James and his son.”

“It reminds me of me and my father. I never realized how close Harry and his dad are. I always saw his mother at school functions.” You said. 

“Lily is an amazing mother, despite some of her most questionable actions as of late.” Remus sighed, “I do hope that her and James reconcile.”

“Oh,” you felt your heart do a flip-flop, “you think they might get back together then?”

“I certainly hope so.” Remus said with a sad smile. 

“I don’t.” A new voice said. It was James. He was sweaty and panting as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“You don’t? Not even a little bit?” Remus quirked an eyebrow.

“No,” James shrugged, “I think Lily is an amazing person but after so many years together I think we both realized that we can be better friends apart. There’s no harm in that.”

“I suppose only you and her would know.” Remus had a pensive expression on his face but he didn’t say anything further on the subject. 

The rest of the day passed rather quickly, as you helped James prepare for the Christmas Eve dinner while Remus, Sirius, and Harry decorated the tree. After dinner you drank eggnog by the fire and listened to James tell stories about Harry when he was young and all the Marauders’ adventures. Sirius and Remus stumbled off to bed, thoroughly drunk with Sirius attempting to suck a dark hickey onto Remus’ neck.

“Silencing spell Pads!” James called. 

“Cheers!” Sirius called back, the door slamming shut and the unnatural silence of the spell taking hold. 

“It’s a little tradition in our household to open one gift on Christmas Eve.” James said with a smile. He handed a small wrapped gift to you and Harry. 

“Oh, James, you didn’t have to get me anything. The invitation was enough!” You felt your face burn but you weren’t sure if it was from the egg nog or the gift. 

Harry opened his gift first. It was a necklace with a silvery sword pendant.

“It’s beautiful.” Harry said, watching the way the pendant gleamed under the light of the fire. 

“It’s functional as well.” James stood up and extended a hand to Harry as well. “Hold the necklace by the pendant and flick your wrist.” 

Harry followed his father’s instructions and after the flick of his wrist the pendant expanded to a full sized sword. 

“Whoa! Is that the sword of Gryffindor?” You asked, scrambling up and examining the sword up close.

“Yes it is. It’s been in the Potter family for generations. Flick your wrist again.” James instructed. Harry did so and the sword returned back to it’s pendant size. Harry put the sword around his neck and gave his father a tight hug.

“Open mine!” You urged Harry, handing Harry your gift as well. Harry opened it and laughed. 

“Oh my God! This is great!” Harry grinned, pulling out a jumper that Mrs. Weasley had helped you knit. It was a dark red with a little design of a figure that looked like Harry whizzing by on his broom after a golden snitch. 

“Thanks! It took a lot of yelling from Mrs. Weasley and some tears but it’s done!” You beamed. 

“This is truly amazing. You’re very talented.” James was studying the jumper in adoration. 

“I’m so glad you think so because after I did it once I was able to replicate it and make some tweaks so happy Christmas James!” You handed James an identically wrapped package. Inside was a jumper but the design was a man who looked like James that disappeared and a stag stood in his place. You had remembered the stories Harry had told you of his father’s animagi status and thought it would be sweet. James wrapped you in a tight hug and grinned at you, 

“Thank you so so much.”

Harry gave James his gift and then handed you his gift to you. It was a gorgeous porcelain tea set that was enchanted so the bottom of each tea cup had a grim at the bottom, a silly callback to yours and Harry’s shared time in Divination. James had run out for a moment and then returned with a small box for you. It was a beautiful, dainty bracelet. James helped you put it on. You were absolutely speechless. 

“Thank you so much, James. It’s absolutely lovely.” You excused yourself to the bathroom where you investigated it more. It looked like real gold. Why would James give you such an expensive and intimate gift. You saw there was a little slip of paper underneath the bracelet. You pulled it out and read:

To my one true love, my Lily

That made more sense. James had given you a gift that he had intended initially for Lily. You would give it back to him after Harry went to bed. You were about to round the corner to reenter the main room when you overheard a conversation between Harry and James. 

“-Siphera is a lovely girl. Are you and her…together?” James asked. 

“No, no,” Harry responded, “She’s my best friend in the entire world. I’m glad you got to meet her.”

“I am too.”

You took that as your cue to re-enter the room and you nestled back into your spot and wrapped your hands around your cup of eggnog. 

“Alright, I’m going to ring Ginny before bed. G’night.” Harry gave you another hug before going to bed. 

“So James, while I really appreciate the bracelet I don’t think I can keep it.” You said, handing James to bracelet back. 

“Oh, you don’t like it?” James gave you a look of alarm. 

“No, it’s not that. I just saw this note and…” You handed James the note. 

“I, um, I am so sorry. I had gotten you a box of chocolates for Christmas but then I saw your gift and I panicked. I had bought that bracelet for Lily months and months ago and I needed to give you something better. You’ve been such a light in Harry’s life and honestly in these few short days I’ve loved having you here. I want you to keep the bracelet.” James looked at you with large imploring eyes and extended the bracelet back to you. 

“Oh, thank you so much. You have to know that Harry is my best friend and he’s been amazing. Especially after everything with my father. And I can see where he gets his giving spirit. Thank you again for having me for Christmas this year.” You became aware of how close you and James were on the couch. His hand was on your knee and his breath was warm against your face. He leaned in and kissed you, his hand on the back of your neck. His lips were soft and he was gentle, warm. You pulled away and looked down at the ground. 

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I’ve just…been lonely. But that isn’t an excuse.” James shook his head. 

“I think I’m going to go to bed. Good night.” You scrambled from the room. You reentered your room and tried to think about what had just happened. And then you thought fuck it, you deserved a little guilty pleasure now and again. And before you knew it you were knocking on James’ door, emboldened by the eggnog. 

“I’m glad you’re here. I’m so so sorry-” James started but you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him hard. He pulled you into the room and shut the door, pushing you up against the door and pulling your jumper over your head. He thread a hand in your hair and tilted your face up a little as he angled his tongue. His hand went down to the waistband of your jeans and fiddled with the button for a moment before sliding his hand down into your panties. 

“So wet for me,” he whispered into your mouth. You were going to give back a smart remark but James pushed two of his nimble fingers into your pussy. You gasped and gripped James shoulder harshly. His thumb found its way to your clit and he started on circular motions as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His lips made their way to your neck and he was sucking hickeys on your neck that you would curse in the morning but right now all you cared about was James keeping his pace as you approached your orgasm. It hit you like a tidal wave and you were moaning into James’ mouth and begging him for something you weren’t totally sure of. 

He moved you to the large wicker bed that sat in the center of the room. You helped him out of his shirt and unbuckled his pants. You kissed down his chest, along his happy trail, and down to his cock. You took him in your mouth and he moaned lowly, 

“Oh fuck.” He moaned, holding your hair back as you tried to take him as deep as possible. You grabbed his balls lightly and released a strangled, 

“Okay! Okay, I don’t want to cum just yet.” He pulled you off of him and flipped you over so you were beneath him. He pushed himself inside you and you both moaned. 

“You’re so big,” you moaned. 

“You’re so tight,” he moaned back. He was fucking you at a relentless, unforgiving pace. One of his hands was gripping the headboard tightly and the other was alternating between your nipple and your clit. You were approaching your second orgasm of the night and with the way it was building you knew it was going to hit you even harder than the first one. James pulled out completely and slammed back into you and that was it. You orgasm hit you hard and your orgasm triggered James’. He came inside you, babbling thank yous and oh my gods. He pulled out of you and you both laid side by side, breathing heavily and fanning yourselves. 

“We can’t ever tell Harry.” You said, the icy shock of sobriety making you realize the gravity of what you had done. You had slept with your best friend’s dad. That would kill him. James was going to respond when an owl started pecking at the window. James opened the window and untied the piece of parchment wrapped around the owl’s foot. You were able to read it over your shoulder.

James, 

I made a huge mistake. Ring me in the morning?

Happy Christmas

Lily

[yesbutmakeitgay]

Resurrect The Sun

GIF by bondedcloud

Carol Danvers x Reader

We’ve Loved A Thousand Lives

Same beginning, different story every time.

Part 19

Angst, Depression, Hopeful ending.

Beta'd by @cordeliasdarling 💜

Word count: 1.8k

Masterlist | This collection | AO3

Captain Marvel's ship opens, a layer of fog coming in as the vacuum seal breaks.

You take slow, hesitant steps into the vessel, breathing in deeply once you’re fully inside. Your eyes dart from one point to another, quickly scanning the entire place. Your body is trembling, your palms going numb from the nerves.

You are the best person for the job, but that doesn't mean you have any clue where to begin. Regardless, you are determined to not let your team down.

The ship is quiet. Suspiciously so.

Carefully, you turn on the lights to reveal an unbothered Goose, laying on the coffee table, licking her own tummy. You know she knows you're there, but she refrains from acknowledging you.

"Hey, babygirl," you coo at her.

Even though you know exactly where you need to go, you decide to stall and sit by the window to look outside. You've seen this view a million times, but you could never get tired of it.

After about 30 minutes of staring outside, you've mustered the courage to get started. You stand up with conviction, take another deep breath, and go to the bedroom.

As soon as you open the door, you spot a glowing fist pointing in your direction, "Stop or I'll shoot." Carol’s voice comes out muffled by the pillows.

You're certain she can't even see you, but you follow her command, instinctively raising your arms and announcing, "Carol, it's me."

At your words, she stops glowing and her arm flops down on the bed.

You carefully enter and turn on the small lamp on the bedside table to illuminate Carol’s body laying face down, now with her left arm extended.

It would be impossible for someone to notice she hasn't gotten out of bed for anything other than going to the bathroom in days, that she hasn't eaten anything substantial in weeks, that she hadn't spoken out loud in months.

There is no way someone could come to those conclusions, unless that someone was you. You who have known her for decades, who have seen her at her best and her worst. You, who get to claim the title of her partner, at work, in crime, in friendship, and in love.

You are here to help her through this crisis.

After standing by the bed for long enough, you cross the room and open the blackout curtains, much to Carol's loud disagreement.

"What are you doing?" she growls.

"I’m here to help you," you say, your voice honey sweet, as you sit on the bed with her. You begin rubbing her back in soothing circles, feeling the heaviness of her muscles.

"When was the last time you ate, angel?" you try coaxing her to talk, "How long have you been in bed?" she remains silent, "Are you feeling okay?" It’s an obvious question, but still, you give her the chance to answer.

You continue with your sweet ministrations for a while, playing with her hair, placing your cold hands on her to contrast her fiery skin, and cooing loving words into her ear, without success.

So, when things don’t seem to be working out, you stand up from the bed and kneel on the floor beside her, coming face to face with her and placing a firm hand on her back.

"Carol?" you try again, but she doesn't move, "Danvers." She finally turns to you with a frown at the harsher tone, "That's right, look at me," you hold intense eye contact, "I tried being your girlfriend and you didn't budge, so now, I’m being forced to play the best friend card," you give her a stern warning.

Carol can’t quite understand what you're saying, though that doesn’t really matter. You use all your strength to pull her by her shirt into a sitting position, her body completely limp and uncooperative. Once you stabilize her, you continue to get her to stand, praying to God that she will have mercy and use her legs.

As you walk her to the bathroom, you ask, "Do you wanna take the shower with or without me?" She looks at herself almost in shame, "Okay, there's always tomorrow, in you go." You decide for her and continue in a firm but kind tone, "You will be in there for at least 15 minutes, and you will also brush your teeth, please, understand?"

Carol nods in response and goes in alone.

While she's in the bathroom, you go to the kitchen to make her proper food. Nothing could have prepared you for the absolute emptiness you find when you open the fridge. There isn't even a single condiment, thank god for cans.

You open the pantry and collect some ingredients that could kinda go together to make a meal, then get to preparing the food, keeping your ears peeled for the running water in the shower.

After you're done 'cooking,' and 15 minutes have gone by, you go wait for Carol outside the bathroom. She emerges soon after with a cloud of steam following behind her, "Better?" you ask her gently, and she gives you a hesitant nod in return. She then attempts to make her way back to bed, but you grab her by the arm.

"Don’t even look at it, come on, you have to eat." You drag her to the table and you both sit together, a plate already served in front of her.

"That's too much," she mumbles.

"Just try, please?"

She reluctantly takes a bite, as Goose approaches and hops on her lap.

"You hungry babygirl? I’m sure you can find your own food here, otherwise you would have already ran away, huh?" you tease and Goose meows back, "You were supposed to take care of her, you saw her like this and did nothing?" you jokingly chastise the flerken.

"You saw me like this too and also did nothing," Carol bites weakly, causing Goose to hop off her.

Your expression turns serious as you chew on your bottom lip, thinking of the right way to say it, "I knew you were struggling—we all were. We found ways to deal with it, and I figured I'd give you enough time to try by yourself," you admit hesitantly, "I had no idea it was this bad."

She silently stands up and goes back to her room, you close your eyes with dread as you hear the door slam shut.

You didn't mean it like that, but now you know she took your comment as a personal failing, an even bigger one than before…

Goose meows at you again and you can feel her judgment, "Yes, I know, why didn’t you have my back!" you continue your fake argument with her.

You give Carol some time to cool off before knocking on her door, "Can I come in?"

"No," she grumbles, but you're not sure which part of her is answering.

"Is it okay if I come in anyway?"

Upon receiving no answer, you try the knob and notice it is unlocked, so you open it and walk in with her full plate in your hands.

Carol is curled up in bed, buried in blankets again, just like when you first found her. As you’re placing her food on the bedside table, you spot a memory device on it, you grab it and store it in the drawer.

"You need to stop torturing yourself, none of this is your fault." You continue walking toward her.

"But it is my responsibility." Even in her state, she manages to sound commanding, like a superhero.

"Monica knew she would have to stay when she went to fix the tear," you state calmly, trying to remind her.

Carol can’t help but argue back, "She’s counting on me to bring her home."

"That’s true..." your voice reduces to a whisper, and Carol turns to you with defeated eyes, "But you can't help her like this and you don't have to do it alone." You sit on the bed as your features soften, "You can stand tall, right?"

Hearing you repeat Valkyrie’s words brings Carol immense comfort that shifts her expression into a soulful one, as the air in the room becomes lighter.

"What do you think Monica would say if she saw you like this?"

Carol chuckles ever so gently while she thinks, "She would tell me to stop being a stubborn ass."

"I agree," you smile gently, "come on, you have to finish your food."

"I can't, it tastes like stardust."

You scoff lightheartedly, "Then come down and order some pizza." She looks at you with potential interest and you invitingly extend your arm toward her, "I’ll come with you," you suggest.

The prospect of gentle company is what really convinces Carol to accept. She grabs your hand and you help her stand up, holding her close and balancing her as you walk out of the ship.

The sun hits her eyes and it almost stings, in the light of day, you can really see the paleness of her skin.

You use your keys to open the front door of her house. The place looks odd, it’s not messy, per se, but it has an air of abandoned.

Looking around, you start thinking of all the chores you could get started on, you even consider doing a load of laundry, then you look back at Carol, and realize what she really needs is a kind heart to sit with her as she hopefully realizes she's ready to dig herself out of this hole.

So, after placing your pizza order, you guide Carol to the living room and sit on the couch with her.

The wait is silent, but the atmosphere is a lot warmer than before.

The pizza arrives and you move to the dining table to eat. Carol grabs a slice and takes a big bite out of it. As she's chewing, you can see the hint of a smile on her sauce smeared lips, and suddenly, you think to yourself, 'She’s gonna be okay.'

Meanwhile, Carol's mind is somewhere completely different. She focuses her entire brain into the cheesy, gooey slice she's having, it makes her think about how much Monica would enjoy it. But, for the first time in months, the thought doesn't make her want to curl into herself at her inability to bring her daughter back, Instead, it fills her with newfound hope and motivation to keep trying.

When she comes back to her senses, she notices you're staring, "What are you thinking about?" Her voice startles you slightly.

"I think everything’s gonna be okay," you muse.

The curve of her lips is now evident, the corners of her eyes crinkling gently, "Thank you for sticking by me."

"Of course, that's what your team is for." You reach for her free hand that rests on the table, "We will find her, I promise you that, but first, we have to get you back together."

[lady-lostmind]

Jeffrey & Marie

for Stobin Month prompt: Middle names

Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this!

WC: 1117 | Rating: T

ao3 link

Robin flops into the passenger seat, slamming her door in a huff. “Steven Jeffrey Harrington. I told you to be here at seven. It is seven twenty-two!” 

Steve scrunches his nose in disgust. “My middle name is not Jeffrey.”

Robin shrugs. “I was going for disappointed mom, but I don’t know your middle name so I guessed.”

Steve looks over at her, completely offended. “And you went with Jeffrey? Do I look like a Jeffrey to you? Do I give off Jeffrey vibes?” 

Robin rolls her eyes. “Like you’d do any better for me. What do you think my middle name is, Steven?” 

Steve’s brows cinch together for a minute and then he snaps his fingers, and points at her. “Marie.” 

Robin makes a bleching noise like she’s throwing up. “What am I, a ninety year old grandma?” 

Steve throws his hands up. “You put me on the spot!”

Robin scoffs. “You took like two minutes to think about it! And the best you could come up with is MARIE?” 

“MARIE IS A NICE NAME! WHAT’S WRONG WITH MARIE?”

Robin side eyes him. “Wait a minute. That girl you took out last week! HER NAME WAS MARIE WASN’T IT?”

Steve’s face slackens before scrunching in confusion. “No–no. It was…Oh fuck.”

Robin smacks his arm. “You named me after a girl you can’t even remember!”

Steve shakes his head. “Hey– I remember her. I just…forgot her name. Momentarily. We went on one date, Robin.” 

Robin crosses her arms. “I am thoroughly offended, Steven Ray Harrington.”

Steve looks at her with his mouth dropped open. “RAY?” 

“It’s better than Marie.” Robin mumbles under her breath. 

–

Steve leans against the counter at work flipping through a magazine, waiting for Robin to clock out since he’s technically been off the clock for the last two hours. 

Robin groans, fighting to pull the ancient vacuum cleaner out from the supply closet. “STEVEN JAMES HARRINGTON! COME HELP ME!” 

Steve shakes his head and flips to the next page. “I am not currently an employee of Family Video. I am just the friend of an employee of Family Video.”

Robin huffs, swearing under her breath when a loud crash rings out from her direction. Steve drops his magazine and rushes over to the corner of the store where half the contents of the supply closet are now scattered on the floor of the store, Robin sitting in the middle of them and looking up at him.

“This is your fault.” She gestures at the mess around her. 

Steve scoffs. “How is this my fault? I wasn’t even over here!” 

“Exactly! If you would have just helped me in my moment of need th–”

“I’m off the clock! You want me to just work for free?” 

Robin shrugs. “I’m just saying. If you helped with the closing duties we could be out of here by now.”

Steve puts his hands on his hips. “I will not take the blame for this, Robin Ann. This is not my doing.” 

Robin holds her hand out so he can help her up, crossing her arms over her chest as soon as she gets to her feet. “So you’re not going to help me with this, then?”

Steve rolls his eyes and huffs. “Damnit.” He stoops down and untangles the vacuum from the pile of crap on the floor. “You put all this shit back. I’ll vacuum.” 

–

“ROBIN ROSE BUCKLEY! YOU OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW.” Steve pounds on the bathroom door, holding the scraps of his Hawkin’s high swim team shirt in his hand. 

“NO!” Robin squawks from the other side of the door.

Steve rests his forehead against the door, grumbling under his breath. “This is ridiculous! Why did you even do this! It’s like having a toddler! Do I have to take away your scissors?”

Robin chuckles from behind the door. “Just put it on, Steve.”

Steve holds the shirt up in front of him. It’s not even half as long as it used to be. “I might as well walk around with no shirt if I’m going to wear this.”

Steve can practically hear her roll her eyes. “Steven Cornelius Harrington. Why do you never trust me?” 

Steve’s brows cinch together, his mouth popping open in disbelief. “CORNELIUS? What the fuck? That’s the worst one yet, Robs.” 

Robin laughs, clearly pleased with herself, before snapping again. “JUST PUT ON THE SHIRT, STEVEN!”

Steve groans, pulling his polo off and slipping the now very cropped shirt over his head. Steve looks down to where his entire belly is on display and rolls his eyes. “I look ridiculous, Robs.” 

Robin opens the door and squeals, a huge grin pulling across her face. “You look great!” She goes to pull him in front of the mirror when they hear the front door open. 

Steve tries to push her out of the way so he can hide in the bathroom, but Robin snatches his polo out of his hands and  blocks his way, laughing maniacally as she shuts the door in his face and locks it again. 

“Hey guys are you–”

Steve turns, his face flushing bright red and he wiggles his fingers in an awkward wave at Eddie who is standing at the end of the hall with wide eyes and his mouth dropped open. 

Steve clears his throat, tugging uselessly at the bottom of his shirt. “Uh– Hi. I’m just going to go uh– change.” 

Eddie swallows and nods. “Right, uh- yeah. Change. That’s– you should.” 

Steve hears Robin snort behind the bathroom door before he dashes up the stairs to find an actual shirt.

–

Robin grabs a fry off Steve’s plate and he swats at her hand. “Hey! You have your own fries, Robin Lee.” 

Robin pops the fry in her mouth, and holds her plate out of reach when Steve tries to take one of hers in retaliation. “Yours are better!” 

Steve rolls his eyes. “They’re the same. And if mine are better then it shouldn’t matter if I take one of yours!”

Robin snaps at his fingers as he tries to reach around her, completely ignoring his own plate. Robin’s eyes shift down to the table and she starts chuckling. Steve looks over at his plate, gasping when he sees that all his fries are gone. 

He lets go of Robin and crosses his arms, glaring across the table at Eddie who looks back at him with an innocent smile. “Edward Dean Munson. Did you really eat all my fries?” 

Eddie’s face scrunches together. “Dean? My middle name isn’t Dean.” 

Robin snorts and cracks up, swatting Steve’s arm as he tries to stifle his own laughter. Eddie just stares at them like they’re insane.

Stobin month prompt list by @lavenderstobins

[makingmeagirlwithluv]

Lost In the Lights Chapter 3- Jimin's Turn

Pairing: OT7 x Female Reader 

Summary: Idol!BTS falls for spoiled brat reader who’s just looking for some fun! Can all 7 of them win her heart and make her theres and theres alone? 

Genre:  Idol! BTS social media/sociallite reader. Modern day. No covid

Word Count: 700

Content warnings: Light smut, swearing, BTS are men and sometimes men are dumb as hell. That B!tch reader. Mild angst. Swearing, lots of casual sex. possesive (?) bts. Unlikely to be member on member action but never say never.

Read Chapters 1 and 2 Here

You had agreed to one date with every single one of them. Knowing that Jimin would charm you and soften you for the other six, he went first. Jimin arrived at your home on a Saturday afternoon. He hadn’t told you he was coming just sent a text as he pulled into your drive way

“Hi baby 🥰. I missed you, saw you got home last night, want to hang out?” 

“Sure, come over 😋”

 You texted back not knowing he was outside. You heard the doorbell ring and got up from your king bed slipping into your fluffy slippers before padding down the stairs. You walked the expansive foyer smiling at your housekeeper as she vacuumed in the study while listening to a podcast on her AirPods. You check the video feed next to your door before smiling as you see Jimin bouncing on his toes and holding a brown grocery bag. 

“Hi love” you smiled opening the door for him. “Come in, whatcha got there”

“I have breakfast” He smiled closing the gap between you and kissing you on the cheek before wandering into your kitchen. 

You yawn and follow him in as he begins unpacking various breakfast foods and clanging around in your cabinets. You smile as he pours your juice into a champagne glass and kisses the top of your head. He begins cooking the eggs and bacon settling into your home as if he’s always been there.

You chat about life and how his solo album is coming. He asks where you’re headed to next.

“Rome, and if I’m lucky then I’ll be home for a little while” “Mmm, if I’m lucky too” He winked placing a fresh plate of food in front of you. You smiled back. You liked Jimin, you liked how you never felt any pressure between the two of you, that everything just seemed to flow. You enjoyed that he was always asking about your day and that the conversation never ran stale.

You spent the next two hours with him in the kitchen eating seconds, laughing, and cleaning up. He didn’t mind when you had to take some work calls, opting to sit in your backyard lounging on the patio scrolling through his phone. When you came and sat beside him he let you unload about work with your head in his lap. He listened intently and said all the right things. And when you led him up to your room and kissed him he explored your body with a familiarity that gave you butterflies. You fell into each other like lovers that had known each other a million years and after hours of seeing stars you flopped down onto him completely exhausted. He smiled up at the ceiling while he traced lazy lines on your back feeling your breath tickle his chest.  “Baby?” “Hmm” you mumbled drifting between sleep and consciousness. He tapped your back causing you to look up at him. “Did you like our date?” He giggled as you rolled your eyes and tried to turn away from him. He caught you by the waist and began peppering your head with kisses. “You can say it you know, you can say you liked it.” “Shhhh” you mumbled into your pillow fighting back a smile

“No Shh!” He laughed squeezing you harder. “Baby please, say you liked it.” He whined kissing the nape of your neck “I liked it” you sighed as his kisses became more sensual. “Now say you like me”

“Jimin-”

“No arguing baby, say it.”

“I like you” You could feel him smiling as his hands lazily rubbed you. He turned you towards him again and you could feel how serious he was taking this, was taking you.

“Say you’ll be my girlfriend” He instructed not breaking eye contact. You stared back enjoying the easy comfort of laying in bed with him, spending the day with him without him getting in the way.

You could see yourself doing this long-term. Which is probably why instead of saying no, or kissing him to make him shut up you leaned forward till there was no space in between you, batted your eyelashes, and said:

“I’ll think about it”

[meggannn]

burning shores thoughts

gameplay:

fuck bilgeguts lmao. i dont know why guerrilla's new criteria for making machines is "1. does it spam all its aoe attacks which are impossible to dodge? 2. is it huge? 3. will it flop on top of you? most of all, 4. is it annoying?" these elements were not fun in frozen wilds and they're not fun here either

i was reluctant to embrace the gliding feature when it finally came to fw, i feel it was something guerrilla kind of shoehorned in because fans just wanted it reeeealllly badly (esp as a crutch to make fans feel better after killing off varl), and i feel somewhat vindicated here because of how goddamn clunky i still find flying even with a decent mastery of the controls. those aerial vantage points in particular were a real pain sometimes (yeah, guerilla, while this woman talks about her moral struggles in the end times, the perfect background noise is a bunch of machines yapping at me and throwing missiles my way because you FORCED me to glide into their field of view...) it is true i enjoyed soaring over the landscape at some points, but the burning shores were MADE to be soared over; it's just straight impossible to walk or swim everywhere on the map here but i genuinely still would have happily ridden a strider the whole way, because at least there i feel like i am still interacting with the world. it makes me wonder how they're going to handle this in horizon 3, if aloy will still be able to fly, because that'll negate a lot of the exploration.

speaking of: since you can now traverse great distances in seconds, burning shores feels a lot emptier than frozen wilds. idk if that was intentional or it was rushed, but i was surprised there were only like three sidequests, and entire areas were completely untouched if you didn't care to hunt down all the collectibles. i felt like the map could've been half its size and i wouldn't have lost anything.

story:

on the whole, i feel the same way about burning shores as i do the main story: unnecessary drama over billionaire characters we shouldn't be focusing on anymore. i've said it before but guerrilla's human villains are quite frankly boring, with the exception of tilda who at least had a twist, if predictable. "power-mad white guy" only worked well once with ted faro in hzd because it was simple, effective, and didn't drag itself out, and then it got boring and marvel-esque in fw with the stupid immortality plot. imo we didn't need three other flavors of power-mad white guy to deal with in the zeniths.

mind control. okay. at this point i have to accept guerrilla just wants to go full scifi/cyberpunk, which is not inherently a bad thing, but it's also not the horizon i fell in love with. their environmental focus seems to have been put on the backburner so maybe i should keep my expectations low in horizon 3. ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

it's not all bad. conceptually, there were some things i liked about it more than i liked about frozen wilds. it was clear from the offset why aloy was going to LA; that is justification i thought was weak in frozen wilds, because "dangerous machines are up in banuk territory, let's stick our nose into these tribal politics" always felt like a stupid excuse to find a way to introduce hephaestus and cyan. in burning shores, from the beginning, we know londra is dangerous and why we have to track him down. i also frankly just find the quen more interesting than the banuk but that's me. sadly though, we don't actually learn that much more about the quen because the plot is mostly about their current londra problem, not their actual culture? which is a shame. i did like the sidequest about helping people stand up to their supervisors and finding more focuses back home, though.

seyka and romance options:

in a vacuum, i like seyka well enough. i have been craving more asian characters in horizon. i don't mind the thought of aloy having a romance and i obviously support more wlw in media.

in context, it irks me a little that guerrilla's idea of "cool female character" basically amounts to the same type of person, just another aloy from another tribe: sassy, hot-headed, rule-breaking hunter/survivalist. this is just me, but i don't particularly want to see aloy get in a relationship with someone who's exactly the same as her. yes, they're similar and they both keep secrets, i see what you're saying guerrilla, but i don't actually think the way aloy interacts with other people would be good for her to experience in a partner from the other direction. "like attracts like" does happen irl, but it doesn't always make for compelling push-and-pull in a fictional relationship.

but do i want people to have the option? sure! i certainly don't want the option REMOVED now that it's there. i just grow increasingly frustrated with guerrilla's idea of which type of character is "worthy" of time and attention in this way, like we have to see a snarky young female machine hunter from every tribe until they find one that sticks. zo and alva were breaths of fresh air for this reason (not that they should've necessarily been romance options, but they're proof that guerrilla CAN write more personalities than "another flavor of aloy").

honesty hour, my real question is: did guerrilla give aloy a female romance because they wanted to shake off some of the bad blood after killing aloy's black best friend and having a predatory lesbian be hfw's main villain? maybe. i'm cynical so i do wonder.

this is gonna sound mean, but i feel like guerrilla's character writing isn't strong enough to justify romances at the moment; the cracks were there in fw but they really showed in this dlc. if all it took for aloy to have feelings for someone was to meet another rule-defying hunter woman around her age that she immediately gelled with, then talanah should be at the top of the list, who she has WAY more connection and camaraderie with, something aloy has learned IS important for her to feel secure in a relationship.

character treatment:

i'm quite frustrated guerrilla keeps introducing new shiny toys, playing with them for a while while they ignore other characters, and then any criticism of how they did a thing is now dismissed as bigotry or haterade. i'll level with you, with the way they've treated their dlc story and characters in the past, i am not optimistic seyka will have a significant role in horizon 3, so i don't even know if i should bother getting attached to her. maybe they'll prove me wrong! but where the hell were cyan, ikrie, and aratak in forbidden west? did they seriously only bring back gildun and give him a sad backstory and a focus out of pity? are they really giving HIM more depth in fw than avad, vanasha, etc? at least go back to chainscrape and give petra a focus!

[wilwywaylan]

Next installement of my "Les Mis characters cleaning because I don't want to clean" series !

... After, like, ten years or something. This is so long to do ! But honestly, those are my favourite. I try not to go overboard with details so the amount is more or less consistent, but I may be a little carried away when drawing Jehan or Bahorel. Especially Jehan.

Also Mary Shelley is helping.... somehow.

The Fluffster is not.

Part 1 is here !

[image ID : three super-deformed, lineless drawings. The first one : Feuilly, a white man with orange curls, yellow eyes and a lot of freckles, is sweeping the floor. He’s wearing a way too big black shirt with a stop sign on it and “don’t” and “me now” written around it. The shirt is tied on the side. He’s wearing jeans and blue flip flops. He’s holding a broom that causes dust clouds to rise, and he’s smoking a cigarette. There’s a small trashcan beside him. The background is solid blue. The second one : Jehan, a white man with a long, orange braid, mismatched eyes (green and gold), and many freckles, is crouching and watering a large plant. He’s wearing a black tanktop, denim overall short shorts and a purple bandana. There are several bead bracelets around his wrists, and his nails are painted mint green. He has two tattoos : roses of different colors on his arm, and a koi fish on his leg. One one hand, he’s holding a watering can, and he’s holding a small white cat with the other. The plant has large green leaves, and there’s a sticker that says “I am a triffid” on the flowerpot. The background is a very dark blue circle. The third one : Bahorel, a tall, buff man with brown skin, black, long hair, beard and eyes, is lifting makeshift dumbbells made by tying garbage bags at the ends of two brooms. He’s wearing a neon pink crop top and purple cutoffs. There are several geometric, tribal-looking tattoos on both his arms. He’s looking up and smiling. The background is a light, sandy circle. The fourth one : a large cat with brown, golden brown, black and white fur is sitting on a robot vacuum. He’s looking over his shoulder and sticking his tongue out. end ID]

[seabreeze2022]

2023 Bahama Cruise, Part 5. March 14. Boat keeping while hunkered down at Lee Stocking Island.

We motorsailed to Lee Stocking from Staniel Cay on Sunday March 12. On Monday we did boat keeping. “Boat” boatkeeping on a boat is slightly different than “house” housekeeping on shore. Yes, Nancy still sweeps, vacuums and wipes everything down. But “Boat keeping” involves a lot of maintenance issues also.

The day starts out for me before sunrise. Listening to Chris Parker “The sailors weather guru” on a Tescan Single Side Band receiver. I can run a small antenna wire up the rigging. Or connect the radio antenna via a copper wire to a stay inside the cabin as is seen in the photo. Reception is so good here with Chris transmitting from Tampa Florida. I can just use the rabbit ear on the Tescan radio.

Nancy had sopped up 2 gallons of fluid out of the bilge while we were waiting on the fuel dock Sunday. There was definitely diesel in what she pulled out of the bilge. She double bagged it up and left it in the trash bin at Staniel. They burn the trash there, you might see a darker black plume of smoke if you are anchored nearby.

Monday morning we checked the bilge and found it full again. So we sucked it out this time with our oil pump. Looks like diesel, and feels like diesel.

We thought we had a diesel tank leak. Lars just bought a boat of similar age. His diesel tank ended up having a leak due to corrosion, and had to be replaced. Could we be having the same issue? Or am I jumping to conclusions?

If it is a micro leak, then we could be heading back to the states in a hurry. Will we have enough diesel on deck to fill up the tank as we motor home while it is leaking? Where do we put all the diesel that leaks?

The hatch over the bilge is open in the photo above. After we suck out the fluid in the bilge, I go hunting for the leak. Need to check the engine oil, so the engine is the first logical place to check for a diesel leak. To access the engine, I have to remove the companionway steps. Which means Nancy either has to stay in the cockpit or cabin for the duration. She decided to stay in the cockpit.

Removed the steps, then removed the engine cover. Oil checks good, no sign of a diesel leak. Damn, nothing is easy.

Which means, the bedding in the aft cabin gets pulled out and piled in the main cabin. Then at least one of the two mattresses in the aft cabin comes out into the main cabin.

After accessing the fuel tank under the aft mattresses, I do not see any obvious signs of diesel fuel leaking in the bilge. Damn, now where could the leak be?

Flip flopped the remaining mattress to access the bilge. Once the center hatch covers are removed. I do some bilge yoga and find the leak. It is the water maker that is leaking. My fault! Tighten down the hose clamps, and the leak stops. So problem solved. Whew! Mostly seawater in the bilge with a hint of diesel on top.

I take this time to open the port main cabin lazaret to access the starter battery. Using a trickle charger to top off the starter battery it takes hours to charge up. Again the cabin ends up in array as the seat cushion and hatch have to go someplace else for hours.

Tuesday we travelled 3 miles down to Rat Key to snorkel on two trucks placed near the beach. With the winds, swell and current we cancelled the dive. Our dinghy does not have the engine on it yet, due the the wave action. We put it on at Andros but later removed the engine. Lifting on to a bracket for crossing TOTO. We need to have smooth seas to hang the engine on the dinghy. Above is the small house on Childrens Bay Cove, probably the grounds keepers house. We would both take this house over the big house on the top of the island. He gets a 270 view of the water.

Out comes the inflatable paddleboard. During open water crossings it lives in the stand up shower in the head. Which we never use to shower in. Besides stacking our cockpit seat cushions in it during the year, it holds 3 cases of beer and the paddleboard for crossings.

Nancy pumping up her inflatable paddleboard. She paddled to shore. On her way there she had a nice size Bull shark circle her once then follow behind her about 20 feet back. Having a Bull shark waiting on you making a mistake, does make you concentrate on paddle technique and balance.

While she was gone I dove the anchor. Lucky for me she distracted the local Bull shark.

Nancy checked out two different beaches. Only Nancy can find someone to talk to on a deserted Island. She spent 20 minutes talking to a fellow sailor walking the beach.

After her paddle, Nancy got out the electric sheep sheers and gave me a haircut. Man that feels better! Now I just have to get all the hair off of the transom of the boat.

We store our 1 lb. propane tanks for the grill in the anchor locker. Just incase one leaks, you do not want it in the cabin. Liquid propane expands 270 times in volume. So 1 gallon of liquid propane (4.2 lbs) turns into 270 gallons of vapor by volume. Or one of the camper size 1 lb. bottles becomes 64 gallons by volume of vapor. Which is heavier than air, and not what you want in your bilge.

Enough of that. We cooked a great flank steak on the grill hanging on the stern rail.

The front hit us about 0430 in the morning. Plenty of rain to wash off the decks. Wind shift of 180 degrees. Gust of 25 knots or so. One of our neighbor catamarans swung by for a visit. He eventually pulled up his anchor and moved away.

S/V Sea Breeze, Lee Stocking Island, Exuma, Bahamas.

[goo-d-tama]

My Flop Era: Is Lowkey Serving | Act 1, Entry #23

21 August 2022

    I thought the upstairs neighbor was vacuuming hardcore but the noise turned out to be thunder. It's raining outside. It's cold but Capt cakKe got me an ice cream mochi. And it was too good to resist.     Tia Fei came home from work feeling ill; said she thinks she'll be sick due to the weather. We have plans to have lunch with Kootchie later in the afternoon but I don't know if we should push through since Tia Fei does not feel good.     We continued our plans but without Tia Fei. Kootchie instead brought her boyfriend to come with us. Her boyfriend is cute, but his car makes him handsome instantly. Lol. We went to the beaches we were supposed to go to last week.     First we went to Palm Beach. We didn't swim. We just took a walk along the coast and shopped. We bought flipflops since Meifei and I only brought sandals and have no slippers. And then we went to the other beach called Laspark Beach where we had lunch. I ordered burger steak, salad, pumpkin soup, and orange jelly for dessert. Food is good but this one definitely is made/adjusted to be tourist friendly. After taking a short walk we went to a store called Mr. Max where Kootchie got something.     On the way home, I'd never forget the atrocity of the song played on the radio- a Never Gonna Give You Up remix/sample called Get Money. It was diabolical. A blasphemy to meme culture. Songs like that should be illegal.     Tia Fei got better when we got home. Her temperature is back to normal. She did a covid home test kit thingy, just to be sure, and the result is negative, thankfully.     Meifei got a fat paycheck so she treated us Cooc Pizza and KFC for dinner. Cooc is definitely one of, if not the best, pizza I've ever had in my life. I know the bar is low. Don't come for me.     Kootchie gave me the keys to her bike but I couldn't take it home because the tires are flat and it turns out that it wasn't a folding bike. For context, the condo building where Tia Fei lives charges for parking including bikes. x_x

Read the whole thing here.

[amnotaqueen]

He Views Our Son As A Slave

My husband did some shopping after our meeting last Sunday. I and our son went with him into the store. As my husband shopped, he had our son holding the basket and was dropping items into the basket for our son to carry. I was mostly keeping to myself, just browsing without intending to buy anything. After a while, I decided to rejoin them. I saw that the basket my son was holding was pretty full. I went and lifted the basket to see how heavy it was. It was getting pretty heavy, heavy enough for a child to get tired with it for an extended period of time. My husband, by the way, was carrying nothing and was taking his sweet time. I picked up one end of the grocery basket to relieve my son a little bit. When he purchased the items and we were leaving the store. He gave both of the bags to our son to carry to our car while he himself carried nothing. I took one of the bags from my son to help him, as they were heavy.

His treatment may be a cultural thing, as I sense that children in Nigeria are made to serve older ones. They are made to perform mandatory greetings to older ones and are ordered to do things for the adults. While I believe it is good for children to have chores, do things around the house and for others, I do not believe that childhood should automatically require that they alone perform all laborious tasks for themselves and older ones. I do not believe children are slaves for adults. I say it is a cultural thing. I now strongly believe that Nigerian culture is narcissistic.

When we got home, he ordered our son, "Get the bags!" This is his behavior at home, not at the Kingdom Hall. When our group, which has men and women and kids are assigned to clean the Hall, we all chip in. Anyone can do anything to help out. Everybody is supposed to have a share if possible. The men sweep, mop, dust, vacuum, clean bathrooms, take out trash, etc along with the women and children. Children are not told to "Clean!", while the adults sit and kick up their heels waiting for the servant children to finish their task.

And at the kingdom hall cleanings, guess who is up and happily cleaning with everybody else like he has a humble servant heart? Yep... my husband. If he can help out at the kingdom hall, why can't he help out at home. Like, he has to order my son to do everything at home. He orders him to remove the shoes from his feet. He orders him to bring his flip flops. He orders him to bring his water and cup. He orders him to take his plate and wash it after he has eaten. He will ask him to do things he can't physically do. Like, I've heard him ask him to take out the trash.

He would have to physically lift a heavy, full garbage bag out of the trash can, carry it to the gate outside, and open the gate that is impossible for him to open by himself as the gate is off balance requiring it to be lifted at the same time the latch is slid to the side (I do it all the time and can struggle with it at times so I know our son can't do it alone), carry the bag over to the trash bin, open the top of the bin (it is VERY heavy, if he lifted it and accidently let it drop it could land on his head and cause SERIOUS injury), and lift the heavy trash bag up into the trash bin. My husband doesnt know about these things because in the time we have lived here, he has never taken out the trash. And nothing is serious to him or important except that all his needs be met. He asks him to do impossible, dangerous things.

And if for some reason he thinks our son is not moving fast enough or doing exactly what he has asked him to do, he doesn't try to figure out why our son might not be able to do it (like maybe he doesn't understand what he is asking, maybe he physically can't do it, maybe something else is legitimately preventing him from doing it). My husband immediately berates, insults, yells at, and threatens our son when he doesn't do something fast enough or to his father's liking.

[tammulberry]

Polaris: Izuocha Reincarnation AU by T.A.M. Mulberry

This took longer than I intended for it to take but I finally finished Chapter 2!

READ CHAPTER 1 HERE

SYNOPSIS: Ochako Uraraka had a dream. To see the smiles of her parents and let them live an easy life. If it meant going to a far off university to become an engineer, she would do it. But when she fell asleep, all she had were nightmares of a different reality that continued on after the summer it started. Soon, she met Izuku Midoriya, an awkward but ambitious boy that lived just across her apartment. While most would only look his way when he did something outrageous, there was a warmth to his eyes that drew her in. In time, she developed feelings for him. It terrified her. The idea that a boy might get in the way of her goals. However, as her friendship with him deepens, she realizes that there’s an underlying reason to her hesitance. 

Years of the Yapping™ started in 2024 finished in ?

RATING: PG-13 WORD COUNT: 3.9k+

Copyright © 2024 by T.A.M. Mulberry

CHAPTER 2. Homesick

Ochako opened her eyes to find herself in her bed from back home. She rubbed her face and noticed that her ceiling full of glow-in-the-dark stars spread throughout the entire room. Except, it looked a little different. It felt different, actually. It’s like her bed was floating on water. Ochako got up with ease. She too felt like she was floating off from her bed.

“Where … am I?” 

She looked all around her and all she could see was a vast space full of stars, planets and other things that she couldn’t quite make out. The auburn haired girl crouched down and leaped into the distance. As Ochako zipped around, she noticed all the tiny celestial bodies. All of them housed different objects that she loved throughout the years. Old childhood toys that were brought to life on tiny planets formed from her imagination as a kid. 

“Ocha-ocha!” one of the stuffed animals waved from a small planet that looked and felt like cotton candy. It was a fluffy pink bunny with floppy ears and button eyes. 

Ochako stopped momentarily and gasped when she saw the stuffed animal. “Mochi!” 

The bunny leaped from the bouncy planet and Ochako welcomed her with open arms. 

“I missed you so much…” Ochako held Mochi tight in her arms and looked at her bunny. It looked like an astronaut. “Hey! Do you wanna explore this place together?” 

Mochi nodded earnestly, its ears flopped as it let go from her grasp and gestured to a much bigger planet. The pink bunny was a lot faster than Ochako as it hopped from asteroid to asteroid. 

“Wait a minute, Mochi!” Ochako reached out and followed. 

The planet really was bigger than the rest of the celestial bodies floating in space. Ochako landed on it and she felt the entire world expand like a vacuum as she gradually shrinked. 

“I wonder what’s in this place…” Ochako gazed in awe. Trees and animals much larger than she was. She noticed that Mochi was gesturing for her to follow and she laughed as the bunny stuffed toy hopped around the place, its ears flopping. 

“What are you trying to show me, Mochi?” 

The auburn haired girl wandered around the place. There was a cobblestone road that guided her down a path with a bright light. Ochako’s eyes squinted, as her legs seemed to carry her to the place on their own. 

Pillars started to rise from the sides of the road, which startled her but as she looked closer, Ochako noticed that each of the platforms had a distinct object carved from wood.

“Hmm, these are very pretty.” She said to herself as she pranced around the place, admiring the different wood carvings on display. 

It was a huge collection, to say the least. She looked at rows and rows of different houses, each with their own individual charms. There were even temples and castles too. Things that Ochako had yet to see up close. 

Maybe it’s a sign that I’ll be seeing them soon. She smiled to herself giddily and she continued to get distracted by the other wood carvings. This time, there were rows of statues. Samurai, chefs, shrine ladies … pop stars? Now that she thought about it, none of the wood carvings had any correlation with each other. Ochako snickered to herself at the ridiculousness of it all. 

Ochako finally reached the animal section, which she then dubbed the “cute section.” Tigers, bears, frogs, cats, lions. Animals you would often see at Shinto shrines. 

She then came across a rabbit statue that caught her eye. Rabbits have always been her favorite animal. It had long, alert ears and an impressively carved cotton tail. Unlike the other statues though, it was imperfect. A little rough around the edges, some parts of the legs unfinished, but nevertheless, it was still beautiful and she can imagine that whoever carved it must have loved the statue very much. Enough to put glistening gems to represent its eyes. 

Ochako then remembered that Mochi was accompanying her on the planet. 

“Mochi! I found a rabbit friend for you!” Ochako said as she turned around to see that Mochi was nowhere to be found. 

“Mochi…?” 

SHRIEK! Ochako gasped and turned around to see that Mochi was being swallowed up by the light at the end of the road. The pink bunny tried to escape but there were black tendrils that prevented it. In a rush of adrenaline, Ochako sprinted towards her friend. 

As scary as it was, she didn’t hesitate to save Mochi but even though her legs moved as fast as they could, they weren’t bringing her any nearer to the light. 

“Why can’t I move?! Mochi, hang in there!” She called out, the distance widening and closing rapidly.

The dark tendrils soon started to engulf the bunny. One of her button eyes fell to the ground and the bunny’s ears were being pulled so tightly by the tendrils that the fluff started to show. 

All Ochako could do was watch in horror. 

“Mochi! You have to take my hand! Take my hand! Please!” Ochako urged Mochi as she tried to reach for her friend. 

But it was too late… 

SNAP! 

Then she woke up alone in her empty apartment. 

Right…

It’s only been three days. Three days since she moved in. Three days after she left her parents. Three days of not being her usual cheerful self. Three days after the nightmare. 

She looked at the clock in front of her bed, and it read 8:30 am. It was a Saturday and in just a couple of days, UA University’s 1st semester will open. She sighed to herself. She has had a harder time falling asleep lately. Ever since the recurring dreams, she actually feared what would happen if she did. 

Just then, Ochako remembered that she had to stock up on supplies and go to the laundromat. She sharply got up from her bed and winced, her body still in dream mode. 

And well … another nightmare. 

Ochako reassured herself that maybe it was just the stress that caused her to have them. Maybe all those sleepless nights from her last year as a high school student finally caught up to her. Maybe the trauma from her encounter with that old lady didn't fully go away. The idea of having to live in fear of sleeping or going out alone at night unnerved her. 

Still, a few nightmares won’t be enough to break her spirit. That much, she knew. She worked hard her entire life for a reason. To see others smile and live happy lives. In order to do that, Ochako made a promise to herself to never tell anyone about the nightmares. 

Maybe then they'll go away for good. 

As she carried three grocery bags and the laundry, she tried to hold everything without them falling from her grip as she prepared to climb up the steep staircase that led to the fourth floor. It wasn’t heavy but boy, was it a struggle to keep everything stable. She didn’t know if she was still disoriented from sleep or not.

“Hello, miss?” A warm voice with a lilt to it called her attention. Ochako turned around to see a boy about her age looking down bashfully. He waved. “Hey! What floor are you heading up to if you don’t mind me asking?” 

“Oh, hello!” She greeted back. “I’m heading up to the fourth one, the highest floor.” 

The boy chuckled and that was when she had a better look at him. He had dark green eyes and dark green hair with four freckles that dotted his two cheeks. He had an oversized hoodie on and a T-shirt with a print that read “polo.” Cheeky. Ochako thought he was quite plain looking compared to the other flatmates she saw around though. 

“Okay, great! I’m heading up there too. So, I…” 

An awkward silence ensued and Ochako contemplated on moving forward or to urge him to continue what he trailed off from. 

“Well, I don’t wanna intrude or anything but I also noticed that you might be struggling to balance all the things you're carrying over there.” 

“Eh?” Ochako tilted her head. 

“...Eh?” 

The two of them stood there by the first floor’s corridor for who knew how long, really before the boy cleared his throat again. 

“And uh… you look like you’re pretty tired too… which is why I thought that maybe I could help you?” 

Ochako was caught off guard at first. She didn’t want to admit it but she did need some help or something was bound to fall on the ground. It didn’t help that she was sleep deprived, homesick and disoriented from the nightmares at the same time. Still, she only met the guy today and the last time she engaged with someone she met, she got trapped in a store far from home. 

Stop thinking about that moment already, Ochako. Stop it. You’re just tired. 

When she didn’t reply immediately, the boy started speaking at the speed of a machine gun as he flapped his hands in a panic. 

“Ah! I didn’t mean it in a creepy way! It’s just that girls usually ignore me and push me aside so you talking to me made me feel like I can finally have another friend! I’m really sorry if I came off as super awkward and weird and—!” 

“Whoa, hey! It’s okay! You’re cool, dude!” Ochako set down the groceries and the laundry to approach him. He bowed low to the ground and she could still hear him muttering profuse apologies.  

“Hey, can you please get up?” Ochako offered her hand to him awkwardly and he slowly looked up to meet her eyes. They were big and round which was further emphasized by his nervousness. Somehow, it reminded Ochako of the rabbit in—Stop thinking about that dream too. 

She thought he was kinda weird but something told her that he meant well. Ochako crouched down to be closer to him. 

“I’ll tell you what—maybe we can start over…” She exclaimed. “So please get up, sir!”  

The boy didn’t take her hand as he slowly dusted himself off, which didn’t make the situation any better. However, she continued to extend her hand in an attempt to handshake him.

“Hello! I’m Ochako Uraraka.” 

The boy finally took her hand in his which flustered Ochako slightly. They’re so warm and comforting. “I’m Izuku Midoriya, nice meeting you! … Again.” 

Izuku Midoriya. That explains the hair and the eyes, her mind drifted. Ochako noticed that his hand was calloused and full of scars. She was sure that the handshake was less than a second but it felt like an eternity had passed. As he let go, she actually felt disappointed—she almost wanted to grab his hand again.

You can’t think those things about a guy you just met and called weird! I can’t believe I’m even arguing with my own head right now? Why are you being so dramatic? 

Different, sleep deprived thoughts circled around the head of Ochako until Midoriya put a hand on her shoulder. The auburn haired girl felt a shiver down her spine. 

“Uraraka? Are you sure you're okay?” He asked, his voice lowered as she didn’t realize how spaced out she was. “Don’t worry, I’ll carry some of your things right now.” 

Midoriya rolled the sleeves of his oversized hoodie up and side-stepped her to carry her groceries with one hand as she picked up the laundry. He motioned for her to follow him. 

Ochako blinked. She questioned whether this was the same guy or not. A minute ago he was stuttering all over the place and bowing so close to the ground. Now, as he carried her groceries, he seemed like a completely different person. The auburn haired girl caught up with him and walked beside Midoriya as they climbed the stairs. 

It was the third silence they had together but this time, it felt a little more comfortable. She looked down momentarily and noticed that his backpack had a keychain of a famous superhero she recognized as All Might from Horikoshi Comics. As confident as he seemed at first, his lips had a wobbly smile to them and his face was flushed. 

Ochako couldn’t help but smile to herself. While things may have been awkward at first, she instantly took a liking to Midoriya. Maybe she didn't have to face UA all alone after all. 

In time, they made it up to the fourth floor and Ochako was pleasantly surprised that Midoriya didn't even break a sweat. They stopped at a corridor that led to different buildings connected by bridges. 

“Uraraka, what room are you staying in?” Midoriya asked. 

“I'm in A–401. You're standing right in front of it actually!” 

Midoriya smiled warmly at her and set the grocery bags down. 

“By the way, sorry for that thing I pulled downstairs. I guess I was a little out of it too,” he chuckled sheepishly as he rubbed his nape. “Rest assured, it won't happen again!” 

Ochako couldn't contain the jittery laughter that came out of her as Midoriya stared at her perplexed. “I'm sorry! It's fine, Midoriya. I think it's cute how expressive you are!” 

“Eh?” Midoriya tilted his head. His cheeks reddened. 

“...Eh?” Ochako froze. Her perpetually pink cheeks reddened as well. 

The fourth awkward silence between two people that just met. Ochako was normally laid-back and easy going. Making friends wasn't hard! Why now?! 

Duh, he’s a boy and you were never that good around boys. 

“Well, would ya look at that! I forgot to do something that my roommate told me to do!” 

Snapped out of her thoughts, Midoriya looked at an imaginary watch on his hand. Things seemed to keep repeating for the two of them as Ochako tried to stifle a laugh at Midoriya being himself. Again. 

“So, Uraraka, if ever you need me, I'm just around the corner! There, at the very edge,” said Midoriya as he gestured to the other side. 

Ochako rocked back and forth, still flustered from what she said earlier. “Guess we’ll always be seeing each other from now on.” 

Midoriya nodded at her with a calm yet wobbly smile. “Yeah… I will be seeing you around, Uraraka. And also, uh—please get some sleep.”

As he walked away, Ochako immediately unlocked the door to her room. She set aside the groceries and the laundry under her work desk. A relieved feeling overtook her. A feeling that she hadn't felt in months since she found out she passed UA’s entrance exam. 

Ochako plopped down on her dorm bed and let out a deep exhale. For the past few days, she dreaded the idea of being all alone without her parents to come home to. Without her friends to hang out with after class. 

She knew it was the price to pay if she wanted to accomplish her dream but to live through it was a different story. 

Ochako smiled again when she thought of the Izuku Midoriya. He was a dork and a geek. A really strong and gentle one. There was a warm and fuzzy feeling in her chest—one that gently let her drift off to sleep. 

When she woke up, she checked the time. 1:30 in the afternoon. Past lunchtime. What she just had was the best sleep in a very long time. She wished she could stay in her bed forever. 

Ochako tried to grab her flip phone from her bedside but ended up grabbing something else. She perked up and looked over to see that she grabbed a strange trinket. 

It was a rabbit keychain made out of wood. She examined it and thought that it looked really cute with its long ears, impressively carved cotton tail and green eyes…

The color on her face drained and any feeling of relief. 

No. 

No, it can't be…

How would that even be possible? 

Ochako got up from her bed, the adrenaline pumping in her veins as she raced to the balcony in her own dorm and threw away the trinket as far as she could. 

She tried to distract herself by folding the clothes, cleaning her room—anything to keep her mind off of the nightmares. She even tried to make a new diorama but she hasn't been able to go outside nor did she have the materials. 

And Midoriya came to mind like a eureka moment. 

“So, Uraraka, if ever you need me, I'm just around the corner!”

Now that she thought about it, she never really asked Midoriya about what school he was going to or what major he was going to take. Yeah. Yeah, that sounded like a good way to start a conversation without it being awkward. 

When she was about to twist the knob to her door, she hesitated. Then, she stopped herself from opening it altogether. 

Ochako thought about it logically. She only met Midoriya that day. Maybe they were friends but she can't just barge into his life immediately. From what she had picked up on, Midoriya looked to be the type to keep to himself and Ochako didn't want to scare him away. Not only that, she made a vow to never bring up the nightmares to anyone, not even her own parents. 

Ochako inhaled and exhaled. She didn't like it. She didn't like this new development. She didn't like how she had to put effort into being the way she used to be just to feel a sense of normalcy. 

Because nothing has ever been normal since that day. 

She missed the days when all she had were dreams and not nightmares. She missed the days when she'd work day and night fueled by a burning passion to make her parents happy. She missed the days when she was so sure that UA was the place to turn those dreams into a reality. 

But after everything that has been happening, she's no longer sure if she can stay the same Ochako Uraraka.

***

The apartment halls were hectic and crowded as the first semester of university had begun for many different schools. Ochako didn't want to be late on her fast day so she practically raced down the staircase and into the main lobby. 

She nearly bumped into a guy near the exit and she apologized frantically. Then, Ochako froze when she realized who it was. That messy mop of green hair and dorky All Might keychain was unmistakable. 

“Midoriya! You’re a UA student?!” Ochako exclaimed as she jumped up and down. 

“So are you?!” Deku returned the energy. Perhaps double the energy to the point that he covered his mouth flustered. “Are you one of the scholars?” 

“Yes! Are you one of them too?” Midoriya nodded and Ochako felt that familiar elation she felt a few days ago.

“No way! What are you taking? Wait, let’s try saying it at the same time—one, two, three—!” 

“Civil Engineering!” 

“Mechanical Engineering!” 

Oh. Well, she didn’t know what she was expecting. Maybe it had to do with the coincidences so to find out that they had different majors was slightly disappointing. 

Ochako tried to ignore whatever preconceived notions she felt like she had and laughed sheepishly. 

“Wow, I can’t believe we’re flatmates and in the same field! It’s like we were destined to meet!” 

“Huh?” Ochako tilted her head, confused.

Midoriya caught himself and laughed nervously as he twiddled his fingers together. “N-nothing! Gah, I’m really sorry for being so awkward all the time. I don’t really get to talk to girls, or anyone all that often.” 

Ochako nodded in understanding and put a hand on his shoulder. “You can always talk to me then. I’m probably way more nervous than you, y’know? It’s fine, Midoriya.” 

The green haired boy’s lips curled into that same wobbly smile that was strangely endearing. 

“Anyways! We should probably get going too,” said Ochako. 

The walk to the university was silent once again, the two of them not wanting a repeat of the events from a few days ago. 

A buzz was felt in her pocket and she opened her flip phone to see a message from her dad. 

Daddy: Do your best, sweetheart. Your mom and I will always be rooting for you.

Ochako's eyes began to water but she sucked it in and continued marching on, now feeling a little more ready to conquer the day.

That’s right, Ochako. The reason you’re doing all of this is for their happiness, not yours, the auburn haired girl reminded herself as many times as she needed. 

The streets of Tokyo were crowded and people were fighting for the buses and trains. It was a clear disparity from her small suburban town back in Mie. She figured it was a nice change of pace but to say she’d be lying if she said she didn’t miss home. 

Mutter… Mutter…. Mutter….

Ochako’s ears perked up and she heard someone muttering from her side. She looked over to notice that Midoriya was talking to himself as he swiped his fingers on the palm of his other hand. Intensely. Intensely concentrated. Enough to spook Ochako into letting him do whatever he was doing. 

The university wasn’t exactly far from the apartment. From her balcony, she could see it on top of the hill. What she wasn’t prepared for was what it looked like up close. 

The auburn haired girl and green haired boy stopped at the entrance of the school and admired its architecture. It felt like the future and the past at the same time. Two tall buildings adorned by blue windows on every side. A pathway decorated by the heads of the former principals and founders of the university. 

Ochako pinched her arm to convince herself that all of this was real. She felt like she could faint any second now. She has never seen something as extravagant and prestigious as this. 

“You ready, Midoriya?” Ochako asked him. Truth be told, she was probably just as nervous as the boy sweating buckets next to her. 

“Yeah.” 

And so her new journey in UA University officially began.

TO BE CONTINUED...

[sizzlingtigerglitter]

Perseverance: The Duct Tape of Dreams – How to Stick it Out Until You Win 

Ah, perseverance. That glorious word that sounds so inspiring in commencement speeches and motivational posters, yet feels suspiciously like chewing gravel when you're stuck in a creative rut or staring down a seemingly insurmountable to-do list.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all for chasing your dreams with the ferocity of a squirrel after a particularly plump acorn. But let's be honest, the path to success is rarely paved with rose petals and unicorn sprinkles. More often, it's a pothole-ridden highway decorated with flat tires, existential dread, and the occasional rogue banana peel.

So, how do we persevere when the going gets, well, not-so-good? How do we channel our inner Rocky Balboa and punch through life's metaphorical Adrian? Fear not, weary dreamers, for I come bearing gifts: the comedically absurd yet surprisingly practical guide to sticking it out like nobody's business. better focus and concentration

Step 1: Embrace the Inner MacGyver (Because Duct Tape Fixes Everything, Right?)

Imagine your goal as a magnificent spaceship destined for the glittering nebula of achievement. You've got the blueprints, the engine humming, and enough ambition to fuel a SpaceX launch. But then, BAM! Reality throws a cosmic wrench in your plans. The engine sputters, the navigation system goes haywire, and you're left floating in the void, feeling about as useful as a chocolate teapot in a space vacuum.

This, my friends, is where the MacGyver in you steps in. Duct tape (figuratively, of course, unless you're actually building a spaceship in your garage – no judgment) becomes your weapon of choice. You use creativity, resourcefulness, and a healthy dose of self-deprecating humor to patch up the leaks, reroute the circuits, and keep your dream spaceship (or career, or relationship, or whatever your metaphorical vehicle may be) hurtling towards its destination.

Remember, sometimes the most ingenious solutions come from the most ridiculous places. So, channel your inner inventor, embrace the absurd, and don't be afraid to get a little (or a lot) goofy in the pursuit of your goals. After all, who says saving the world (or at least your sanity) can't be hilarious?

Step 2: Befriend the Phoenix Within (Rise from the Ashes, Baby!)

Life has a knack for throwing metaphorical flamingos at your face just when you think you've got things under control. A project flops, a relationship fizzles, and suddenly you're curled up in the fetal position, convinced you've peaked at "unemployed couch potato."

But here's the thing: setbacks are like spicy wings – they burn going down, but they leave you wanting more (of success, not wings, unless you're really into that sort of thing). They're opportunities to learn, to adapt, and to rise from the ashes like a magnificent, slightly singed phoenix.

So, next time you face a flaming flamingo (or metaphor of your choice), don't wallow in the ashes. Dust yourself off, channel your inner Beyoncé, and strut your way out of the metaphorical fire. Remember, every setback is just a push-up for your soul, making you stronger, wiser, and even more fabulous in the process.

Step 3: Weaponize Self-Deprecating Humor (Laugh in the Face of Failure, Then Punch it in the Nose)

Let's face it, sometimes the only way to deal with the absurdity of life is to laugh at it. And what better target for your comedic barbs than your own glorious failures? Self-deprecating humor is the ultimate underdog superpower. It disarms negativity, diffuses tension, and reminds you (and everyone else) that you're not taking yourself too seriously.

So, go ahead, crack jokes about your failed soufflé, your disastrous haircut, or your inability to parallel park without hitting a mailbox. Own your imperfections, laugh at your stumbles, and let the world know you're okay with not being perfect. After all, who wants to hang out with someone who takes themselves too seriously anyway? Plus, a good laugh is a great stress reliever, which can give you the mental boost you need to keep pushing forward.

Step 4: Remember, You're Not Alone in the Circus of Dreams (We're All Clowns, Just in Different Costumes)

The road to success is a crowded highway, filled with fellow dreamers juggling flaming chainsaws, riding unicycles on tightropes

[somedamnfinecoffee]

a wild sofa appears

more projects in progress I've failed to document, but:

cat orb approves.

My family are chair people. I've had this dumb IKEA Pöang chair for decades now, and a rotating supporting cast of others that keep breaking. (Another story there.) So for the last year I've had just a single chair in the middle of the room (the only room), and the bed in the far corner acting as an ertsatz couch.

In retrospect it's a little ridiculous to think I've gone this long with a single armchair and a twin bed as my only furniture, but I think I've got two justifications. First is that I've still been moving around things and unpacking/repacking as I work on projects, and it was hard to visualize what the space deserves. Second is that I'm exceedingly picky, and once you drop a couple grand on a piece, pay to have it delivered, and cajole a family member into dragging it up a flight of stairs, you better damn like it. Not like returning an Amazon order.

Back in February I pilgrimaged to Palm Springs for Modernism Week, and poked around the monthly Vintage Market. One vendor was selling a beautiful Adrian Pearsall style platform sofa, along with a Poul Jensen-style Z-sofa.

And the price was unbeatable. Until I saw the shipping cost to up here, which came to an additional almost 50%.

And realistically, both are a bit small. A slightly generous loveseat, or a very cozy three-seater. Perfect for my old 500SF apartment (if I didn't have all those chairs). I don't like sitting close to people. I have plenty of room, but not for a sectional.

Locally and online I wasn't seeing anything I was jazzed about for how much things were. Lots of tufts and skirts, bollard arms, pale cream upholstery. Truthfully cleanability is a major priority in, well, all of my decisions. I wanted something on legs I could vacuum under, and cushions I can remove and clean. Not really a fan of leather, being vegetarian. And vinyl is just horrible.

Oh, and I don't like sinking in to a couch. It's all about back angle and height. I like things low and upright. Hence my affinity for the platform sofas.

A few weeks ago we stopped in Kasala, a store that has the distinction of being the only furniture store in Pike Place Market, and additionally the only one I know of with a real local warehouse in-city, partly to poke around, partly to rest after a long day at the market. It was perfect. The color, the wood accent, the steel legs! A little bulky for my taste—I don't care for armrests—but could easily work with a mid-mod or min-mod style.

As I promised the salesperson, I'd go home, have a glass of wine or three, and make a decision. And I accidentally bought three. It wasn't the wine, it was the website freezing up repeatedly, I swear.

The next day I somehow convinced my mother to help, as we frantically rented a van from Home Depot, ran over to the warehouse about a block away, dropped it off across town, and returned the vehicle in the 90-minute window before extra charges kicked in. $15 for DIY delivery was a heck of a deal compared to $200 to have to dumped in the driveway.

I bought that light years ago and never found a good place for it

As for the bed: I finally ditched my deflated twin I've had since college for a full-size memory foam, selected after literally 4 hours of flopping around the IKEA showroom models. By that point my brain had turned to mush, and rather than choosing my dream danish modern bed frame, I just grabbed a basic steel platform. At least its not going to collapse on me in the middle of the night again. Despite the extra room, the cat still sleeps draped across my neck.