#Christina Hai | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blackwolfstabs · 4 months ago

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FALL FOR THOSE EYES

No matter what their parents say, Sam can't ignore Tara. (or Tara has separation anxiety)

fandom: Scream characters: Sam Carpenter, Tara Carpenter, Christina Carpenter, Mr. Carpenter content: pre-movie (Scream V) // Tara (4), Sam (10) a/n: i wrote this MONTHS ago (like 10 months ago, back when i first started my account lol) didn't expect to post it, didn't plan to post it, but here we are because i can't be fucking consistent. having said this, if you don't like what i write about, i don't need to hear about it, just skip over it please :) side note: Mikey is Tara's cat plush.

Sam lay awake in the darkness of her room in the early hours of 1:00 AM, staring at the ceiling as she listened to her baby sister cry relentlessly. She was going back and forth from her bedroom to their parents’ room, where she’d just be taken back by one of them. Having gone through this for countless nights, the older sibling knew that Tara would spend her time targeting their mother first, and then, when she wasn’t getting her way, she’d start to ask for their father.

But it never worked.

She hated to hear Tara cry so much, but she couldn’t understand why it was so hard for her to just go to sleep. Their parents weren’t going anywhere. They were just in the other room. She’d see them in the morning. Why was it so hard for her?

This time, she heard her mother bring Tara back into her room.

“Tara, you need to go night-night.”

By the sounds of the youngest’s shaky moans and sniffles, Sam guessed she was clinging to her as she put her back into her bed.

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Noo-hoooo!” And her hysterics stirred up again. “I wa-hant you to sta-hay, Mama-haaa!”

Christina left the room, leaving her daughter’s cries echoing down the hallway.

“Mama, pleeee-hease! Mama!”

Tara’s hitching breath was sharp, which made her listening sister start to worry that she would work herself up into an asthma attack. She heard her crying be interrupted by a few coughs, before it continued, her voice getting closer as she made another attempt to leave her room.

“Mm- Mmm– Mm-hmm… Mo-hommy…” She struggled to get out words in full sentences from her accumulated mucus. “I– Ih-hi… want yo-hou… Mommy…”

Great, now she was talking to herself. Samantha covered her face with her hands and lay still, hating how sad her baby sister sounded. And she couldn’t do anything for her. She had been told by their parents to ignore her crying, because she needed to learn. But it was so hard. She just wanted to go lay with her, so they could both get some sleep. She heard Tara’s footsteps retreat into the living room. Again.

A couple more seconds and the cycle repeated, but this time, it was their father bringing her back. Judging from where her whimpers came from, he was carrying her.

“Daddy, nooo-ho-hoo…”

“Shh-shhh, Tara,” her parent soothed. “You’re okay.”

Even though she wasn’t there, Sam could see him putting her back into bed and actually making the effort to tuck her in around her resistant squirms and sobs.

“Goodnight.”

However, Tara started to cry again as she tried to make him stay, “B-but… my-hy tummy h-hurts, Daddy!” She was already trying to get out of her blankets to prepare to follow him out.

“That’s because you’re crying so much, sweetheart,” he reasoned. A few quiet seconds passed, before he concluded his stay. “Calm down, you’re okay. Hug Mikey and take some deep breaths. Your tummy will feel better soon. Goodnight.”

“I want one more hug!”

Sam bit her lower lip. She hated it when Tara said that.

He must’ve given it to her. “Goodnight, Tara.”

Even after her last hug, the youngest Carpenter was thrown into another fit. “No, Da-ha-ha-ddy! Noooo!” Her bedroom door shut. Uhh-huh-huuhhh!”

Her older sister felt her eyes go hot as she dropped her hands to continue the one-sided stare-off with the ceiling. How long was she going to have to sit here and listen to this before Tara wore herself out? Her cries didn’t leave her room anymore, but they stayed coming through the wall, leaving Sam guessing that she was just lying there sobbing by herself. Their parents were across the house, so they didn’t have to hear how heartbroken she sounded…

A few minutes passed before all went quiet, and she thought that she must’ve cried herself to sleep. But then what she was most afraid of happened…

“Saaaam! … Sa-ha-hammy!”

The owner of the name screwed her eyes shut, but her sister’s pleas grew louder.

“Mmm– Saaaammyyy!”

She covered her ears with her hands, doing what she could to keep herself from running to her rescue. Only it wasn’t a rescue. Tara simply didn’t want to be alone in her room, but she could be. She was being trained to be. She could do it. She remembered what her mother had told her after she and her father had found out that she was sneaking into Tara’s room to keep her quiet.

“She’s a big girl now, Sam. She has to learn how to self-soothe.”

But it was so hard to ignore her.

The shaky moans grew louder, until the door to her room opened and Tara padded in, sniffling and jumping her breaths while she clutched Mikey close. Now, it was of no use. Samantha lowered her hands from her ears and picked her head up to see her sister coming up to her bedside.

“Sammy…” she whined, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I–I… I wa-hant…”

Before she could finish her broken sentences, Sam pushed her covers down and sat up with a sigh. This made Tara start to whimper again, fearful that her last resort would shut her out too. She took her hand and began to guide her towards the door, but the younger just started to break down again.

“I wa-haanna sleep with yo-hou, Sammy!” The little girl was too tired to try and hold herself back, so she was pulled against her will.

“Shhh, I know, Tara. Come on,” Sam continued to hush her as she tugged her past the threshold. She could hear her start to wheeze when she sucked in breaths, her asthma catching up with her from the inability to calm herself down.

But the other hadn’t realized it yet. She was too focused on wanting her way. “I do-hon’t wanna be by myself!” she sobbed, wiping her tears away with Mikey’s marbled faux fur.

“You’re not,” her older sister assured her, “I’m gonna sleep with you.” This seemed to make her start to calm down, sniffling and giving quiet moans to stabilize her crying onslaught. Once they got to her bedside, the taller girl picked her up and put her on the bed. “Lay down. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Tara only gave a partial nod as Sam left the room to grab the tissue box from the bathroom. When she came back into the room, she shut the door and climbed up on the bed to settle next to the recovering occupier, who had willingly got under the covers and was facing her.

She blinked up through drying tears. “Sammy, m-my tummy… hurts,” she complained.

So she wasn’t just pulling strings after all. “I know. It’s because you cried for a long time,” she answered, then went to pull a tissue out from the box, “You know how you have a hard time breathing so you swallow all of the snot in your throat to breathe again?”

Tara nodded.

“All of that snot goes into your tummy and makes it hurt.”

“I… I feel full, too…”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, so don’t swallow it anymore.” She then held the tissue up to her sibling’s nose. “Blow.” She did, and then, she went on to wipe the excess snot draining from her runny nose. “Good girl.” As Tara took in a deep breath to get an adequate amount of air, the other tucked the used tissue into the space between the pillows. “Better?”

Another nod had her placing the tissue box aside and laying down next to her baby sister. She tugged the blankets up to her shoulder and watched Tara roll onto her back to breathe better, where she softly pawed her throat, a small whimper emitting from it. “Remember what Mama said to do,” she reminded, knowing she was scared of having an asthma attack, “Smell the roses, then blow out the birthday candles.”

And her little sister obeyed, taking a deep breath in through her nose, then letting it out of her mouth.

“Slower, Tara. You can breathe. You’re okay.”

She did so, finding it easier when Sam did it with her. She fiddled with Mikey’s fur while curling and relaxing her toes as she repeated the cycle, a tactic used to decompress her muscles as well.

Eventually, after many breathing cycles and a few tissues, she was able to exhibit a normal breath pattern, making her feel more at ease. But there was still one problem.

Samantha, on the same hand, had relaxed too, the tactical exercise having her nearly falling asleep. She stirred herself awake. “You getting sleepy yet?” she asked as she suppressed a yawn behind her hand.

But Tara turned her head to look at her with her still-wide-awake puppy eyes. “My tummy still hurts…” she confessed.

Her big sister moved closer to her with a gentle grunt. “It’ll stop hurting in a little bit.” She laid her head down and shut her eyes. Beneath the blanket, she reached her hand over to place it over the gist of the younger’s stomach, where she began to rub in a small circle. “Does it hurt here?”

“Mm-hmm,” was the reply. The little girl tugged her arms up to allow the caressing hand to do its work as she sank into her pillow while holding her stuffed cat close to her face. “Mama always gives me tummy rubs whenever it hurts,” she whispered.

Eyes still closed, Sam smiled with a short chuckle, “I know.” She knew that was true from seeing it many times. She knew Tara milked stomach aches from time-to-time, just so their mother would hold her. As weird as it might be, being petted like that made her baby sister feel secure. It calmed her down, kinda like a dog. “I don’t think I do it as good as Mom though,” she joked.

Tara giggled. “That’s okay. It still feels good.” She blinked at her sister’s closed eyes, happy that she wasn’t alone anymore.

“You better not be faking,” the other then opened one eye to glance at the smile on her face.

The younger’s face dropped. “I’m not!”

“You fake stomach aches to Mom all the time, I know you do.”

“Do not!”

“Do too!”

“Liar!”

“Faker!”

“Meanie!”

If she was going to name-call like that, Sam was sure she was feeling better, and she slipped the hand that was caressing her sibling’s abdomen beneath her shirt to tickle her bare, on the offense.

Tara squealed and drowned into laughter as she tried to shove her hand away. “No-ho-ho! Sa-hammy!” She twisted onto her side to curl into herself, then reached out to retaliate, snaking her little fingers into her attacker’s neck.

The new victim pulled her shoulders forward in an awkward block, beginning to snicker herself. But then that caused Tara to move one of her hands to her open underarm, which made her shriek. She then made use of her other hand, which she plunged into the side of the younger’s neck, the side between the pillow that would make it hard to block.

Tara squirmed against the mattress, outdone by aged-strength. She kicked out, inadvertently catching Sam off-guard and having her tickling cease. This made her defend harder, moving her hands from her sister’s neck and underarm to her ribs, sides, anywhere she could to prove her dominance.

Now, both sisters were in hysterics, trying to get the upper hand from each other, which was a losing game. So, Sam took the initiative to break it up. “Oka-hay, Ta-hara-ha! Stop! We-he need to slee-he-he-heep!” She pulled her hands away and pulled her arms close to her in order to prove her surrender.

Luckily, her sister took it, and backed off as well, her laughter fading to leave a sleepy smile. She may not have been ready to go back to sleep after crying so much, but after all of that, she was tired.

Samantha panted, readjusting her clothing that had been disheveled from the fight. Tara didn’t seem to care about hers, so when they reverted to lying on their sides, facing each other, she took it upon herself to tug her shirt down and her shorts up.

When they both recovered, the older sibling settled with a content sigh, while the younger one nestled into her pillow with a soft hum. At first, Sam had shut her eyes to welcome the recurrence of sleep, but something possessed her to open them again. And when she raised them to check on Tara, she had done the same.

Her baby sister blinked, the flood of tears that had once ruled her having left no trace on her precious face. “I love you, Sammy.”

The other smiled and tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. “I love you too, Tara.”

Tara shuffled closer to her and nuzzled Mikey’s fur. She felt safe, happy, and sleepy now that she was with her sister. When her mother and father wouldn’t be there to give her that security, she knew Sam would always be there. “Promise you’ll stay with me all night?” she quizzed, knowing she’d usually leave in the early morning, before the sun came up, so their parents wouldn’t know.

Sam nodded, her tired blink not strong enough to pull her into darkness before she was able to promise, “Until the morning light.”

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#parkerwrites #scream #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #scream vi #carpenter sisters #scream v #scream movies #scream fanfiction #scream fanfic #pre-movie #christina carpenter #mr. carpenter #ben carpenter #AU: The Way I Am #blackwolfstabs

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katriniac · 11 months ago

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Merry Christmas 💝

This post is about one of my favorite Christmas carols and poems, written by the amazing Christina Rossetti -

In The Bleak Midwinter

Here is a version sung by Julie Andrews recorded in 1973:

youtube

The full poem:

(In the public domain)

In the bleak mid-winter

Frosty wind made moan

Earth stood hard as iron,

Water like a stone;

Snow had fallen, snow on snow,

Snow on snow,

In the bleak mid-winter

Long ago.

Our God, heaven cannot hold Him

Nor earth sustain,

Heaven and earth shall flee away

When He comes to reign:

In the bleak mid-winter

A stable-place sufficed

The Lord God Almighty —

Jesus Christ.

Enough for Him, whom cherubim

Worship night and day,

A breastful of milk

And a mangerful of hay;

Enough for Him, whom Angels

Fall down before,

The ox and ass and camel

Which adore.

Angels and Archangels

May have gathered there,

Cherubim and seraphim

Thronged the air;

But only His Mother

In her maiden bliss

Worshipped the Beloved

With a kiss.

What can I give Him,

Poor as I am? —

If I were a Shepherd

I would bring a lamb;

If I were a Wise Man

I would do my part, —

Yet what I can I give Him, —

Give my heart.

Oof. That last line, regardless of the musician who sings it, always makes my throat catch. 💓🥹

The poem was originallly published under the title "A Christmas Carol" in January 1872 in a magazine, but wasn't printed in book-form until 1875 along with Rossetti's best-known poem, Goblin Market.

In 1906, the composer Gustav Holst composed a setting of Rossetti's words (titled "Cranham") in The English Hymnal, which is the most commonly sung version of the song.

I admire her poetry a great deal. The Romantic period gave us many remarkable female authors and poets (my favorite being Jane Austen), however Rossetti was right at the tail-end of that era. The years her works were published straddle the dreamy idealistic Romantic period and the grainy gritty Realism movement. Her styles and themes follow this growth of artistic feeling as she continued to write.

Christina Rossetti (5 December 1830 – 29 December 1894) was born in London to Italian parents, was home-schooled by her mother, and grew up among artists, writers, and poets. I can't help but imagine that living among creative family of political exiles, often hosting a bohemian assortment of traveling artists from across Europe, would be anything but boring.

The amount of genius under that one roof!

Anyways, happy holidays to all, even though this current midwinter is anything but bleak and we have no snow.

Yesterday, we hit the record for the warmest Christmas Eve in Minnesota: 55 degrees. Not a single flake on the ground. But there's been plenty of rain! So weird.

#christina rossetti #in the bleak midwinter #romanticism #realism #poetry #julie andrews #christmas #Christmas carol #christmas poetry #romantic period #rossetti #female poets #female authors #women writers #Goblin Market #rossetti family #minnesota #christmas 2023 #Youtube

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lover-also-fighter-also · 4 months ago

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😒 + 🎶

thank you 🌺

😒 - Biggest pet peeve

I sometimes get easily stressed out and tend to push too much of these issues onto my peers, which tends to be annoying at times. But I have learned to control my stress and take one thing at a time, instead of being overwhelmed.

🎶 - Top 5 favourite songs.

There are too many songs which I like cause they are varied across languages, so I'm sorting them according to language. The ones in brackets are from the respective movies:

English:

1. Perfect - Ed Sheeran

2. Lover - Taylor Swift

3. What Makes You Beautiful - One Direction

4. A Thousand Years - Christina Perri

5. Until I found you - Stephen Sanchez

Telugu:

1. The entire Hi Nanna movie Album (Hesham Abdul Wahab)

2. The entire Sita Ramam Album (Vishal Chandrashekar)

3. O Rendu Prema Meghalila (Baby)

4. Sirivennela (Shyam Singha Roy)

5. Kammani (Yeto Vellipoyindi Manasu)

Hindi:

1. Sun Saathiya (ABCD 2)

2. Kaala Chashma (Bar Bar Dekho)

3. Sona Kithna Sona (Crew)

4. Masth Magan (2 states)

5. Balam Pichkari (Ye Jawani Hai Diwani)

Honorable Mentions (Malayali Songs):

Darshana and Onakka Munthiri (Hridayam)

They are all a mix of melodious and fast beat songs cause I like to listen to them all according to my mood.

#asks #answered asks

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gustingirl · 2 years ago

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fifteen questions | fifteen people

tagged by the best @canaryislame ily

1. are you named after anyone?

i think so. a friend of my mom had her babygirl and named her like me before i was born and my mom kinda stole the name (not really)

2. when was the last time you cried?

i don’t even remember. probably watching something scaloneta related

3. do you have any kids?

oh no

4. do you use sarcasm a lot?

definitely all the time

5. what’s the first thing you notice about people?

their smiles and eyes. don’t know why but i focus on their eyes a lot

6. what is the color of your eyes?

greenish!

7. scary movies or happy endings?

none really. i hate scary movies but cheesy predictable happy endings bore me. i love to be shocked

8. any special talents?

it should be considered a special talent the way i overthink

9. where were you born?

argentina mejor pais del mundo

10. what are your hobbies?

writing mostly! i enjoy journal writing too (not writing really, more like artistic journals?)

11. do you have any pets?

two doggies <3 emma and yowi

12. what sports do you play/have you played?

everything back in high school though. i did handball (goalkeeper call me dibu and i was actually very good), field hockey and volleyball.

13. how tall are you?

165cm

14. favorite subject in school?

history!! i also enjoyed psychology, philosophy and english classes

15. dream job?

i would love to work somewhere in the editorial industry. i know it's almost a dead industry because of *sigh* technology but i wanna work there so badly. i’m even throwing cv like crazy (hay que agarrar pala)

tagging @peachy-101 @christina-dh @50-cm @my-faves-said-gay-rights @faeriemin @loser-user-noaccuser @joon-rkive @laucha-posting @knivesofwater @greenrubbersoul @rat-with-coffee @smythecriminal @harryduboisbignaturalss @latenightjjk @napo-con-fritas

#pain to find 15 people omg #i didnt know who to tag lmao #tag game

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alinalioness · 7 months ago

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Alina and friends 7 Chapter:The house of familiar characters and the background.

The heroes were standing near a small mountain, and someone's house was located on it.

Alina:We need to ask the people who live in this house.

Daisy:What if-

Christina:Wait, let me. (To Alina) What if they're not friendly, but on the contrary?

Daisy:Hey, I wanted to say that too.

Alina:(She thought about it) What's there to guess? We need to find out.

Bokko:That's right, someone needs to get in there. (He went to the tree)

Spongebob:And why didn't you come to the tree?

Bokko:Very easy. We have to understand the logic.

Heroes other than Bokko:What is the logic?

Bokko:Everything is very easy. The children are younger than us, although some may come here, but no. Adults from 18 to 50, if I'm not mistaken, are adequate, although some are weak, but I can't even brave them. And the elderly don't belong to them. So it turns out. Animatronics will go.

The animatronics were not happy and approached Bokko while he climbed a tree.

Bokko:Hey, hey, hey, calm down. All right, let the inhabitants go.

The residents were unhappy until Cass noticed that Alina was not there.

Cass:Where is Alina?

The animatronics stopped shaking the tree and everyone saw Alina walking up to the house.

Olga:Come down! You're going to fall!

Katya:Alina is unrecognizable.

Later, Alina got to the house and opened the door. Then she turned to the guys.

Alina:Guys! There's no one here! But I think it's worth getting up, since it's night!

When the heroes ascended, they were surprised that there was only one room in one house.

Krash:There's only one living here.

Carlin:Yes, it means either a forester or a guard. Although there is nothing related here.

Bonnie:I wonder if there's something to eat? (Opens the pots with a Chica) What the? Why not?

Squidward:And you just need to eat.

Freddy:And you don't get into other people's conversations.

Squidward:And you don't tell me, do you understand?

Foxy:And you don't take the "understood", do you understand?

Alina:Calm down, guys, we'll just rest and hit the road.

Sandy:That's right, the girl is adequate.

Krash and Chiko noticed a poster on the wall with a picture of a black bear.

Krash:Isn't that a Honey Badger?

Chiko:(Adjusted his glasses) I don't know, we need to check it out.

The two went up the stairs and were shocked to see the Honey Badger in the poster.

Krash:This is... (The ladder starts to tilt)

Alina:(Scared) Krash! Chiko! Caution!

Two round animals immediately jumped out of the stairs and she fell onto the table, scattering objects on the floor, including a poster. The others came up to Krash and Chiko.

Olga:How you scared us.

Wally:Are you hurt?

Tom and Jerry looked at the poster with the Honey Badger and realized that they were not the only ones looking for it.

Alina:We need to clean up here, otherwise people will open up.

After cleaning, it was night and everyone was lying on the hay covered with a blanket (They were in their usual clothes). Kristina was spinning and only at the end decided to open her eyes.

Christina:(In a whisper) Is it just me, or does Alina really talk to the characters more than she does to us? Yeah... That's for sure for me. (Villages) And no one can even hear me. (Just talking) Of course it is, isn't it?

Alina:Okay, what do you suggest?

Christina:God who surrounds me. You're friends with us, aren't you? So we're working together. (To the others) Get up! (Everyone is awake) In general, so. The characters may have similar activities, it could work as a team. For how to name only characters from one fandom, it's worth saying how in the title.

Christina:As for the classes, we'll discuss them later.

Katya:I wonder what about the question what are you going to do?

Characters:Yes, that's it.

Christina:Well, you're all like Alina. The same thing. What if there's a fight tomorrow and I'm tired? (She lies down and falls asleep)

Squidward:* Snorts* Teens.

Everyone went to bed, but at first they just looked and immediately fell asleep. But suddenly someone's huge shadow covered the window, forcing them to wake up. The door opened and 10 silhouettes appeared. They were a grizzly bear, a one-horned deer, three people, two cats, two aliens and wolf.

Katya:Oh, my God.

Alina:This is...

She-wolf (Female):Who are you? What made you live with us?

Alina:Excuse me, please, we are looking for a Honey Badger. He took everything from us.

The wolf:How do you know that?

Grizzly Bear:Wait, let's turn on the lights. Otherwise we'll talk stupidly in the dark. (He snapped his fingers and the fireflies lit up) Like that.

The characters were surprised to see other characters.

Alina:I know you.

Kuzko:Really? From where?

Alina:I watched and played about you. Even as a child.

Melina:Now it's clear how she knows about us.

Wonder:That's right. They know us. (Auggie pointed out himself and Jack as a hint as to whether Alina knows them)

Alina:And you too.

Lula:How do you know?

Alla:Before I say it, my name is Alla. I knew him before that. (The characters are surprised)

Spongebob:Before us?

Alina:I probably don't even know. (To the Alley) Will you please tell us about him?

Alla:With pleasure. Everyone should be aware of him. (The heroes calmly sat down and listened attentively) Listen.

Background

You can see the forest where Alla, who was 3 years old and learned to hunt evil animals with her father.

Alla:When I was young, I went with my father to train in my native home, the forest steppe. At one point, I saw a Honey Badger. He was terribly rude and cruel to the whole world. My father said I shouldn't approach him.

Alla was 14 years old and was walking together with friends Jonath lynx and fox Alicia.

Alla:When I was 14 and walking with Friends, I saw the Honey Badger again. He and the other black beasts said they would go against the world. I felt it wouldn't end well. I reported this to my father and he told the king about it.

The animals began to prepare against the Honey Badger. They guarded day and night. Later, when Alla was 18 and married to Ben (Cream-black), she walked with him on the mountain.

Alla:When I was 18 and married to Ben, I was walking on the mountain. I made sure there were no problems. But... They came. Ben and I noticed the army and immediately ran to call the guards.

After the couple called the pack, the fight began. It lasted all night.

Alla:And the moment I wanted to kill him, thank God I wasn't hurt. My father protected me, but he died... left a Honey Badger with a scar on his face. After that, the army left. But I knew it would continue.

Currently.

The heroes were shocked to hear the backstory of Alla and the Honey Badger.

Alla:But my father lives in my heart, but that's another story.

Alina:What a story.

Daisy:It couldn't be scarier.

Krash:Now it's clear why he's like this and where the scar came from.

Haoyu:And why hasn't he been stopped yet?

Alla:He was feared along with the army.

Sylvia:And if I had seen it again, I would have shown it. (She hit the poster with the image of the Honey Badger, making it look like it was killed)

Alla:But fortunately, we are looking for him. But not only us, the others are still catching up.

Alina:Of course, this means your house and you are looking for it together. We are with you.

Alla:Fine. We're going to get the others now.

Kronk:Oh, it's great to have a whole team.

Alina:And we are the "Friendship of the Whole World" team and there's even a motto...

Heroes:Together, stronger, hurray!

Elliot (The Deer):Wow, that's the motto.

Boog(Grizzly bear):I understood what it means when you are together, you are a force and at the end of the victory shout "hooray".

Alina:(Nods) Yes.

Alla: Well, we have to go. Follow me.

The heroes followed Alla, which leads to the direction where the others are.

To be continued...

#фанфик #смешарики #spongebon squarepants #disney #balan wonderworld #fnaf #tom and jerry #oggy and the cockroaches #my singing monsters #slime rancher #wildcraft #hunting season

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things-that-altered-my-brain · 1 year ago

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TRACKING MY EYES

(LIST OF MOVIES SERIES BOOKS AND WEBCOMICS I HAVE SEEN READ and want to remember(rating out of 10) (incomplete rn)

( E-english, H-hindi, K-korean)

MOVIES

Animated-

nimona (10)

TANGLED

the Mitchells v/s the machines

spirit untamed

frozen 1

next gen (8)

the willoughbys

over the moon

wreck it Ralph 1 and 2

encanto

frozen 2 (6)

Hindi

barfi (10)

chor nikal ke bhaga (10)

Darlings

ek main aur ek tuu

ek vivah aisa bhi

forensic

hasee to phasee

Lootera

om shanti om

Qala

queen

Uri

7 khoon maaf (9)

dear zindagi

dil chahta hai

dil dhadkne do

Wake up Sid

doctor G (8)

kal ho na ho

zindagi na milegi Dobara

gori tere pyaar m (7)

kuch kuch hota hai

kabhi khushi kabhi gham

plan A plan B

Tamasha

OMG (oh my god) (6)

Ye Jawani Hai deewani

fitoor (5)

I hate luv stories

kabhi alvida naa kehna

dilwale 2015

jaane tu ya jaane na

dil se (3)

hum sath sath hai (no ratings for these lol)

happy new year

hum apke hai kaun

sooryavansham

english

good will hunting

BARBIE

Half of it

fundamentals of caring

edge of seventeen

red white and royal blue

the baby sitter killer queen

crazy rich asians

Enola holmes 1 n 2

knives out 1 n 2

confessions of a shopaholic

the intern

love at first sight

korean

tune in for love

love and leashes

kill boksoon

SERIES

lockwood n co

looking for alaska

heartstopper

Carmen San Diego

extraordinary attorney woo

blue birthday

run on

celebrity

true beauty

see you in my 19th life

our beloved summer

my ID is Gangnam beauty

because this is my first life

business proporsal

nevertheless

masaba masaba

my demon

destined with you

vincenzo

reborn rich

start up

Heeramandi

its okay not to be okay (goingon)

gilmore girls (going on)

BOOKS

the unhoneymooners- Christina Lauren

nothing lasts forever- Sidney Sheldon

Since You've Been Gone by Morgan Matson

turtles all the way down- john green

to all the boys I've loved before (book 2 and 3 specially)

One of us is lying- Karen McManus

One of us is next (sequel)

Mr. Penumbra’s 24-hour bookstore- robin sloan

tbr-

one of us is back (triology)

lockwood and co

PLAYS

mujhe amritaa chahiye (yogesh tripathi)

WEBCOMICS

the omniscient reader

i love yoo

the greatest estate developer

get schooled

operation true love

seasons of blossom

morgana and oz

reunion

to tame a fire

muse on fame

maybe meant to be

wished you were dead

lost in translation

lets get divorced

the fox club

raven saga

bad signs

daytime star

completed

secretary out of order

see you in my 19th life

take me im yours

your letter

til debt do us part

our beloved summer

unholy blood

sweet home

long after the ending

the make up remover

age matters

a chance at last

gourment hound

the nuna at our office

cherry blossoms

my boo

her bucket list

super secret

oh!holy

mom, im sorry

lilac 200%

scorching romance

garden club detective squad

the hip guy

kind of love

unTouchable

witch hunt

cinnamonroll

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parolerandagie · 2 years ago

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Ho appena effettuato un test volto a "misurare" il senso del disgusto a riguardo sul cibo e pare io abbia ottenuto un risultato piuttosto basso (proprio proprio un cicinìn d'attenzione all'igiene, toh), cioè sono a livello "i bacarozzi, a tuo confronto, sono dei buongustai" e/o "hai talmente poco senso del disgusto da risultare tu, disgustoso".

E va beh...

Il test lo trovate qui:

#la verità ed altri disastri #me magno pure li morti #fermented brain of a monkey anyone?

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nvrlation · 2 years ago

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Scans of works by Christina Bothwell in her interview with Michelle Robertson for Hi-Fructose maganize volume 65.

“…glass seemed like the perfect medium to express the non-physical realm.”

Bothwell’s process is long and rigorous. She begins the process with a sketch, molds that sketch into clay, and fires it in a ceramic kiln. She follows this with an additional firing in a pit filled with burning hay and sawdust.

She then heats beeswax in crockpots until it reaches a consistency of warm clay. With the beeswax, she makes a mold of powdered silica talc and plaster, sets it, steams it in a pot meant for cooking crab, then fills her mold with chunks of powdered and colored glass, then fires this again.

This glass comes out of the kiln rough. Bothwell spends days or weeks polishing it. She glues on clay parts and/or found objects and paints on the surface to finish.

This process, according to Bothwell, can take anywhere from a few months to a year.

1) “Strawberry Garden”, cast glass, ceramic, hand-painted detail, 22.5” x 20” x 6.5”, 2021.

2a) “When You Are Sleeping”, cast glass, ceramic, 8.5” x 18” x 7”, 2007, in permanent collection of the Corning Museum of Glass Art.

2b) "Together", collaboration with Robert Bender (Robert: bench, Christina: figures), cast glass, ceramic, hand-painted details in oil paints, 14" x 33" x 23", 2017.

3a) "Avatar", figures of varying height, approximately each 18", cast glass, ceramic, 2018.

3b) "Mother and Child", 18" × 20" x 6", cast glass, ceramic, hand-painted details with oil paints

4) “Ghost Girl”, 20” x 10” x 8”, cast glass, ceramic, hand-painted details, 2020.

#glassart #experimental #my scans

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rggdriptournament · 1 year ago

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HEAT #1

#001: tsuyoshi nagumo vs yuta usami

#002: mikiko sadamoto vs kaoru sayama

#003: takayuki yagami vs masayoshi tanimura

#004: nick ogata vs christina

#005: shintaro kazama vs osamu kashiwagi

#006: keiji shibusawa vs koichi adachi

#007: saori shirosaki vs makoto makimura

#008: makoto date vs makoto tsukumo

#009: joon-gi han (y6) vs fumiya sugiura

#010: daisaku kuze vs hiroki awano

#011: shusuke kenmochi vs seong-hui

#012: daisaku minami vs rikiya shimabukuro

#013: saeko mukoda vs eri kamataki

#014: masaharu kaito vs yuya

#015: yasuko saejima vs jin kuwana

#016: kazuki vs tetsu tachibana

#017: tashiro vs daigo dojima (y2)

#018: naoki katsuya vs the lingerie thief

#019: satoshi shioya vs masaru watase

#020: dd vs mitsuru kuroiwa

#021: hana vs yuki

#022: producer kiryu vs american boy mitsuo

#023: yoshitaka mine vs akira mabuchi

#024: jun sadamoto vs yu nanba

#025: ai uehera vs hibiki otsuki

#026: chika arimura vs saki hatsumi

#027: the areshi brothers vs etsuko

#028: toru higashi vs shun akiyama

#029: shinada vs shrimpnada

#030: ryuji goda vs daimu akutsu

#031: sohei dojima vs masumi arakawa

#032: reina vs yayoi dojima

#033: ryo aoki vs hiroaki arai

#034: jo sawashiro vs jun oda

#035: futoshi shimano vs akira nishikiyama (y1)

#036: masaru sera vs tsukasa sagawa

#037: shigeki baba vs joon-gi han (y7)

#038: shinji tanaka vs takeshi kido

#039: nishida vs taiga saejima

#040: tesso vs akira nishikiyama (y0)

#041: goh hamazaki vs wen hai lee

#042: homare nishitani vs sosuke komaki

#043: miss tatsu vs mirei park

#044: bacchus vs sotaro komaki

#045: ono michio vs kamulop

#046: haruka sawamura vs kyoko amasawa

#047: goro majima vs the florist

#048: toranosuke sengoku vs kazuma kiryu

#049: yoko sawa vs yumi sawamura

#050: gary "buster" holmes vs andre richardson

#051: tianyou zhao vs takumi someya

#052: ichiban kasuga vs daigo dojima (post y2)

#053: masato arakawa vs masato aizawa

INTERIM #1

BONUS ROUND: dead souls costumes

BONUS ROUND: wildcard qualifier

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aurozmp · 2 years ago

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ricordami quando sarò andata lontano, nelle lande del silenzio, e non mi potrai tenere per mano, e io non potrò ricambiare il saluto. ricordami quando non potrai dirmi il nostro futuro, come lo hai pensato; ricordami e basta, sai, sarà tardi per parole e preghiere. anche se dovessi dimenticarmi per un po' e ricordare in seguito, non dispiacerti: perché se l'oscurità e la corruzione lasciano una vestigia dei pensieri che un tempo ebbi, per te è molto meglio scordare e sorridere che rammentare e soffrire.

Christina Rossetti, Ricordami

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3pirouette · 2 years ago

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Fic: In the Bleak Midwinter (1/1)

Title: In the Bleak Midwinter By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Spoilers: takes place during CA: TFA, but can be considered AU. Disclaimer: They're not mine. Distribution: AO3 Anyone else please ask first :)

Read it on AO3

Story Summary: @steggyfanevents Secret Santa gift for thesokovianaccords. A quiet moment in the snow with Steve and Peggy. Set mid- CA: TFA.

A/N: For the Amazing @thesokovianaccords! I hope this meets your expectations. I got the compass, some dramatics, some mid-mission events, and some good old Steggy snuggling in there… I’m not really sure why it turned so bittersweet, but I hope there’s enough sweet that it makes you feel good. I had hoped to come up with a good Rom Com idea, but I’m just not a Rom Com writer sometimes…

Title is from the poem “In the Bleak Midwinter” by Christina Rossetti.

Please forgive any typos- I'll go back and re-edit, but for now I've looked over it obsessively and can't look at it any more!

~*~

“You should have let them take you in the transport.”

Peggy snuggled closer to Steve. Normally he gave off quite a bit more body heat, but considering the small shed they’d managed to find had little the way in insulation and even less in the way of glass in the windows, he had little to share at the moment. “What, and miss this?”

He clicked his teeth, and she felt more than heard his groan as a rumble in his chest. “Peggy—”

She leaned back, brushing the stray hairs that escaped her chignon out of her face. “I was not, under any circumstances, going to endure a two-hour, bumpy as hell ride sitting on laps.” She shook her head and snuggled back down into him. “And you know as well as I do that the back of that jeep would have been as cold, if not colder, than our current accommodations.”

Steve gently pushed her to the side, standing. “We’re lucky we found these accommodations and you know it.” He started wandering around the small shed that held only the remnants of farm equipment, ticking off a mental list of their current supplies. “You should have—”

“Say that one more time and you know I’ll start walking back on my own,” Peggy threatened, sitting tall against the small divider wall they’d huddled themselves against. The remnants of a bale of hay behind it had made it the least chilled structure in the small shack and more than inviting for a rest compared to the howling winds outside as the sun set low.

Steve looked over his shoulder at her, scowling, but went right back to his search. “Oh, don’t I know.” He shook his head as he dug through a pile in the corner. “You know those guys wouldn’t have tried anything and they—”

“That’s not what I was thinking and you know it!” Peggy stood, righteous in her anger. “It would have been cold and uncomfortable, to start.” She stepped up next to him and started helping sort through the pile of odds and ends. “Of course, Bucky and Dugan and Morita would have been pure gentlemen.” She grimaced, pulling out a mess of what looked like animal leads and leashes. “It was the Hydra men tied up next to them that would have been making lewd comments the whole way back that I wasn’t looking forward to.” Steve opened his mouth to rebut, but closed it quickly when he saw her eyes. “Those German soldiers do have the filthiest of mouths,” she muttered, sliding a shovel out of the way.

“I understand,” Steve said quietly, sorting through a bucket of screws and nails.

She sighed at the tension she’d unwittingly created, but knew it was more the adrenaline of the mission and the firefight and the anxiety about making it back to base in the morning more than anything else. She looked over at him from under her lashes, voice carefully even, “You could have sat on laps, you know.”

He laughed, a single bark of lightness in the dark and cold shed. “Yeah, Buck and Dugan would have loved that.” He shifted the bucket back against the wall and finally unstrapped his helmet, his hair standing on edge, sweaty and dry in patches, as he pulled it off. “What? And leave you to have all the fun here?”

She chuckled lightly, pulling her fingers deftly away from something she was sure had once been a pile of manure. “We both passed the same outdoor survival training and you know it.” She pivoted in her squat, turning towards him. She ran her fingers through his hair, settling it to something that was almost tame. “It also didn’t escape my mind that I haven’t seen you for more than five minutes in the last month and after this mission debrief it is quite possible it will stay that way for the next few months, as well.”

He gently pulled her hand from his hair, holding it in his, eyes darkening. “Yeah, there is that.”

“Oh, don’t go all sappy now.” She took her hand back and turned to the pile. “We can have dramatic declarations of love once we get a fire going.” She carefully set what looked to be a broken saw blade aside. “A cold and bumpy ride in a jeep followed by a cold and lonely night on base worrying about you is much less desirable than our current situation.”

Steve shrugged, turning back to the task at hand with just a hint of a smile enough to let her know that he saw their situation in the same light. “I think there’s enough cracks in the ceiling and broken windows that the smoke won’t be a problem…”

“But?” she asked when he trailed off.

He shrugged. “Even if I can get a fire pit dug through that,” he tipped his head to the crumbling concrete that made up the floor of the shed, “I don’t know that we’ll have enough kindling to keep it lit through the night.”

Peggy stood, kicking the dust on the floor. She took a few steps, humming as she looked at the hay remnants in the corner. She looked at him, but his only reply to her unspoken question was a raised eyebrow. She smiled back suggestively, licking her lips. “If it were colder…” She let the sentence fall away.

“It’s worth it to keep to sleep in,” he supplied quickly, ignoring her innuendo. “It’ll keep us insulated from the floor, at least.”

“A roll in the hay?” She chuckled at his eye roll, kicking through the bottom edge of the hay. “Could you be slightly less than stoic for a moment?”

He lifted the shovel and took a few quick steps over to her, dropping a quick kiss on her cheek. “Sorry,” he moved back to the center of the small room and started kicking debris away from the center of the floor, “I still feel like we’re not alone.”

“We’re never alone,” she grumbled, watching as he sized up the hole. “You get started on the pit,” she pushed off the small wall and moved to the door, “I’ll see what I can find in the way of kindling outside.”

Peggy slipped out of the shack into the chilled night to the sounds of Steve setting the shovel against the concrete. He could have used his shield, and she figured if it didn’t start crumbling under the shovel quickly, he would, but she wasn’t going to make a fuss. He was still on edge, as was she, about how the night had gone. A slim win was still a win, but the casualties still stung. She just wanted to spend the few hours they had together, however they’d managed them, in relative peace. The sun had completely set and the moon was rising high in the sky, making it was easy for her to start picking small twigs and long blades of dry grass from around the abandoned shed.

She stopped for a moment, looking up, and wondered if she should take her chances in the bombed out remains of the house just a few hundred yards away. She’d made a good argument for it, but Steve had looked at her with such a haunted look she knew there was a reason he told her no. She set back to picking up small sticks, her arms soon filled. She knew he saw things. They both had. The longer the war went on, the more desperate each day got, the more gruesome the scenes, the more violent and angry the men, the more desensitized the got to the losses and death. She prayed for an end to it every day, and knew Steve did, too.

She wasn’t sure what would happen to them when there wasn’t a war on, but they never quite looked to that tomorrow too closely when one wrong bullet or bomb could change all of their plans.

She slipped back into the shed, arms laden. “How’s it going?”

He didn’t look up from his work, on his hands and knees, forming a bowl in the dirt of the ditch he’d dug. “Fell apart pretty easily. How’d you do?”

“Should be enough for a bit, and there’s plenty more out there.” She set her small pile down next to him and went to her pack, digging around for her waterproof matches as he started arranging the sticks. “I can go—”

“No,” he was quiet and firm, and didn’t even look up from where he was precariously balancing some of the larger sticks into a cone. “I’ll go out if we need more, but we should be okay for a while.”

Peggy squatted down next to him, holding out her tin of matches. “Care to share why you are melancholy at turns?” The words were sharp, but her tone soft. “I’m getting a bit of whiplash here.”

He held her hand for just a second as he took the tin of matches, then went back to getting the fire going.

His silence was more than enough for Peggy. “It’s been a bad month, hasn’t it?” He paused at her words, but didn’t say anything as he resumed settling the kindling against the small flame as the match caught the twigs around it. “I suppose I could read the reports,” she started gently, settling down cross-legged next to him, “but you very well know I’ve seen the same things you have.” She waited for some kind of reaction, and finally reached out and stopped his hands from playing with the fire that was no longer in need of such tending. “Stop being dramatic and talk.”

He slumped back, keeping her hand in his. “it’s just…” He took a slow deep breath. “It’s just starting to get to me. The death, the destruction, the innocent people…”

“Not what you signed up for?” she asked gently, sliding closer so she could meet his eyes.

“No,” he nearly laughed out. “No, I don’t think this was what any of us signed up for, do you?”

She let their beaths sync, let the quiet crackling of the growing fire calm their anxious minds. It was always too much: there was always another mission, another communique, another secret to uncover, another battle to be fought. They were living in harrowing times, in a constant state of kill or be killed, and neither one of them often got to express just how tiresome, how stressful, it could be: there were too many people counting on them, too many people looking towards their leadership, to show signs of fatigue.

She had two choices: she could push and try to get him to open up, or she could move past it, let it get buried, and maybe one day they’d talk about it or maybe they wouldn’t. He was usually good about opening up on his own, and when she’d pushed in the past, he had clammed up further. It was an easy decision to make.

She smiled, standing. “Well, I know none of us signed up for K-Rations.” His chuckle, somewhere between surprised and amused, was enough sign to her that she’d made the right choice. She dug through her pack and held up the two cans. “Can I interest you in ham and cheese or ham and cheese?” She held them both out, posing like she was presenting them on the USO show stage with a smile.

A tiny glint lit up his eyes as he pretended to weigh his options. “I think I’ll take…the ham and cheese.”

She gave a brief curtsey as she handed him the tin he’d pointed towards. “Excellent choice, sir!” She turned back, rooting in her bag for the two tiny spoons she kept in there, and grabbed the little box of crackers. She handed hers over to him to open as she sat next to him, the fire finally something big enough to start radiating warmth towards them.

Steve popped the top off her can quickly and handed it back. “Bucky’s mom makes the best ham,” he mused, opening his own can and staring at the contents, “Christmas Eve we would all sit and watch as dish after dish came out of that kitchen. There wasn’t enough room on your plate for all of it.” He paused; cracker stopped in mid-air on its way to the tin. “Is it… what day is it?”

Peggy laughed around her spoon, swallowing before speaking. “You’re not that far out of touch, darling. Christmas isn’t until next week yet.”

He shook his head with a self-deprecating smile and resumed dipping his cracker into his tin of meat and cheese. “Sometimes days feel like years…”

“And sometimes they feel like minutes,” Peggy finished. She scraped at the edges of her tin. “Did you always do Christmas with the Barnes family?”

“Mostly,” he shrugged, chewing thoughtfully. “Buck and I have been friends since we were little.” He looked down at his tin and scooped another mouthful with a cracker. “She was the kind of person who cooked for the whole neighborhood, everyone was always invited in.” He smiled. “The house was crazy, kids all over, running and playing and if it was snowing out—” he laughed at the memory, “there would be snowballs outside and inside. Pure pandemonium in the best way. We got there in the early afternoon and didn’t leave until it was time for midnight mass. Ma and I always went home with big plates of leftovers and cookies and cake.” He bumped her shoulder, warmed by the memory. “How about you?”

Peggy set down her emptied can and picked up a cracker, running her nail along the jagged edge, eyes wandering into the past as she spoke. “Oh, Christmas was always quite the formal affair. We’d get dressed in our Sunday best, then we were paraded in front of grandparents and Aunts and Uncles. Michael and I were expected to be quiet and dutiful during formal dinners.”

Steve smirked, raising his eyebrows. “How’d that go?”

She rolled her eyes and nudged him with her elbow. “About as well as you’d expect.” Peggy was searching for a story to tell when Steve’s voice surprised her.

“When we get home,” his voice was soft, using a phrase she’d never heard him use before, “I’m sure Mama B is gonna have the biggest Christmas dinner ever.”

Peggy stilled, watching his eyes glaze over as he spoke. She reached out, covering his hand with hers as he talked.

“Bucky will insist you come, you know. And she’ll have invited half the neighborhood, like usual. There will be at least two hams, and whole tables of gravy and mashed potatoes and the greens and sweet potatoes…” He closed his eyes, a soft smile taking over his lips. “I can almost smell it. And the pies!” His shoulders sagged. “Rebecca, his sister, makes the best pecan pie.”

“Tell me more,” Peggy whispered quietly.

His eyes opened, almost like he’d forgotten where he was, and he smiled. He slipped the two empty tins to the side and slid himself around Peggy, wrapping her in his arms and resting his chin on her shoulder. “Well, to start with, their house is small: a little brownstone around the corner from my apartment. But inside? You can’t imagine how many people they fit in there.” He chuckled as she melted back into him. “She starts cooking the day before, Bucky’s Aunts and cousins all come over, and they try like hell to keep all those kids out of the kitchen. I remember each year running these little… missions… I guess you could call ‘em, with Bucky and Rebecca and all of us just trying to steal little morsels out from under her nose and she never got mad just chased us back out while we laughed until our stomachs hurt, you know?”

“Sounds delightful,” she whispered, watching as the lightness of the memory melted the heaviness of the war and years away from his face.

“So, I’m sure there will be kids running around, and everywhere you look there’s just chairs shoved here and there so people can sit and eat and laugh. And it’s hot… it’s always hot no matter how cold it is outside.”

“From the ovens or the people?” She asked, running her hand through his hair.

“Both,” he chuckled, taking her hand and holding it in his. He snuggled closer to her, wrapping her in a tight hug. “By the time we were older Buck and I always had jobs- setting up extra tables, making sure the decorations were just-so, running errands for last minute ingredients.” He laughed, a memory bright in his tone. “Didn’t mean we stopped trying to steal bites, or that she ran us out of the kitchen any less.” He buried his nose in her neck, dropping a soft kiss there before turning serious. “The Barnes’ are the only family I have left. I can’t wait for you to meet Mama B.”

“I would be honored to meet her,” She replied gently, tucking her head under his chin. It was almost cozy now, by the fire in their small shed, the cracks in the roof pulling the smoke up and away while they were still able to take advantage of the warmth of the fire. She wasn’t exactly sure what to say next: they didn’t often talk about the future, so instead, she said nothing and threaded her fingers through his, holding his hand tight.

“You were right,” he said softly before he kissed her hair, “We needed this. I needed this.”

“Can’t ever be alone on a base.”

“It’s never quiet on base.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this comfortable on base.”

He looked down at he, teasing, “Well, I’d hope not.”

She laughed, pulling from his arms and reaching over past him, setting a few more sticks into their fire. “You think it’ll make it through the night?” She settled on her knees, looking over their dwindling pile and the small flickering flames.

He sat up, scratching his head. “Probably not. I can—”

“You keep it going,” she kissed him quickly before he could stop her. “I know exactly where I’ve picked over and where there will be more kindling. I’ll be back in half a mo.” She stood and was out the door before he could object.

She wasn’t sure what it was about the way they were bouncing through emotions, about the heaviness that seemed to settle over them tonight, but she needed a break from it. It was suffocating in both the best and the worst ways. The idea that there was going to be a Christmas where she was laughing with the mysterious Mama B and Bucky and his houseful of friends and family… it seemed like a promise and a curse. She didn’t make plans, not during this war. It seemed as soon as anyone she knew made plans, there wasn’t any life left for them to live them. She bundled the sticks in her arms, hurrying around until she couldn’t balance another on her pile, before struggling her way back into the shed.

“Goodness,” she shivered, shuffling over to the fire. “It’s quite biting out there. This fire’s doing its job.” She settled her pile carefully before crouching down and rubbing her hands together, holding them out to the flames. “We did get very lucky.”

Steve’s reply took just a second longer than she was expecting, and it had a hint of honey in it that made her turn to him. “Very lucky.”

He was sitting against the wall, elbows on his knees, rolling his compass over and over in one hand, eyes warm and drowsy. She sat into one hip, smiling. “What are you on about?” She chuckled, standing and closing the distance to sit next to him, “Because I know it’s not this shack.”

“We got lucky,” he repeated softly, taking her hand in his and draping them over his knee. He squeezed it gently for a second before flipping his compass open.

Peggy shook her head, looking away. “You still have my picture in there?”

“Take it everywhere I go,” he replied proudly. He smiled and tipped his head on hers just for a second at her blush. “What? It embarrasses you?”

“I just,” she twittered lightly, looking for the words, cheeks still a bit red, “I just never imagined myself the kind of woman a man would keep a photograph of… I’m nothing special, Steve.”

He leaned back, surprised. “Nothing special?”

“I’m not a pinup,” she rebutted, slightly incensed she had to explain, not wanting to say how her former fiancé had never carried her picture around and she’d been prepared to spend the rest of her life with him.

“No,” he carefully trod, “You’re ten times any of those girls. Beautiful. Smart. Sharp. Way more than just a pretty face, Peg.” He let go of her hand and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her tight to him. “You know why I keep you in my compass?”

“Because you haven’t a pocket for a billfold in those pants?”

He laughed at her surprising joke. “Uh, no, I guess I don’t. But, that’s not the reason.”

She snuggled down against him, turning her body into his side. “Well, then?”

“My dad left me this compass.” He turned it in his hand, showing her the well-worn age. “I never met him, he died in the war before I was born. When I was a kid, I was so mystified by how it would point North no matter where I went. When I was a boy scout, I learned how to use it to find out where I was going, how to chart places…” He sighed with the memory, his words falling away.

“Useful, that,” Peggy encouraged.

“I made a few… wrong decisions,” he started cautiously.

“You? Never!”

He leaned into her playfully. “Not just impulsive like I tend to be now, but downright wrong. I was letting other kids influence me. I wanted to be seen, wanted to be bigger than I was.”

“We all do,” she whispered gently, laying her hand on his arm.

“So, my Ma, she sat me down and made me put the compass on the table. She knew how much it meant to me.” He set it on the floor and gently spun it. “She told me… she told me that a compass will always tell you which way is North,” he paused, watching the compass spin in the dim firelight, “but it cannot tell you what is right.”

She watched as he set the compass back to him, her picture staring up at them. “That’s pretty profound.”

“Yeah,” he smirked, lifting the compass back into his hand. “She took it from me for the night and made me think about what she’d said. The next morning, I had to apologize and she gave it back.”

“That explains why you have it on you all the time, but not why my picture is in there.”

Steve shifted, tucking the compass in his belt before he reached for her hips, setting her straddle over his knees. He pushed back a few stray hairs, eyes thin blue rings in the dark light. “Doesn’t it, thought?”

She shook her head, a small smile on her lips as she leaned forward, kissing him gently.

He nudged his nose against hers, wrapping his arms softly around her waist. “Sure, it does. My compass tells me what’s North. You tell me what’s right.”

She pulled back, surprised. Her chin quivered with the tightness that suddenly took over her chest. “Steve—” she barely whispered out.

His voice was soft as he met her eyes. “You know I love you, Peggy.”

“And I love you,” she replied quickly, still trying to find a way out of her shock at his words. “You’ve always been a good man,” she whispered, running her hand down his cheek. “You don’t need me to tell you your course.”

“Yes, I do,” he replied firmly. “Every day it gets harder to do what’s right, to remember what’s right. Every day out here there’s another thing that I don’t want to see, another horrific reminder of the darkest pieces of humanity,” he closed his eyes tight together, shaking his head before looking back up at her. “I need something to look at every once in a while, to remind me that there are things worth fighting for, that the easy thing to do isn’t always the right thing, that…” He took a deep breath, softening. “To remind me that there are family Christmas Eves back home still happening that I’m going to take you to after all this is over.”

Peggy stopped his rant with her finger pressed gently to his lips. “I’m honored that I can do that for you,” she whispered, “but you mustn’t put me on a pedestal quite that high. I’m liable to fall.”

He moved forward, kissing her gently. “Never,” he whispered against her lips.

She kissed him for long minutes, finding solace in the warmth of him, of the feeling of being so close they were almost the same being. His lips soothed the raw edges his words had left. He always managed to surprise her in how he saw her, and while she knew her value, so rarely did she ever think she was worth that kind of praise or worship. Tonight, she wasn’t going to argue with him.

She pulled back, swinging one leg over so she could sit across his lap, settling against him better. At his look, she shrugged. “Cement was hurting my knees.” She stopped him before the apology in his throat could leave his lips with just a look.

“You know,” she started lightly, playing with the strap across his chest, “I’ve often thought about keeping your picture with me.”

“Have you?”

She smiled at the way he tried to keep the interest out of his voice. “But it wouldn’t do for a spy to be caught with her boyfriend’s picture in her pocket.” She felt his disappointment when he hummed in agreement under her. “But the thing is, I don’t need to.”

“’Cause you remember my face?” Steve asked, only half joking.

“Because I see it everywhere,” Peggy replied, sincere. “Captain America is a bastion for all that is good in the War. I see you on posters and in newspapers.” She took a deep breath, readying her confession. “My last assignment, I was so lonely, I kept a paper for weeks and weeks just so I could look at your picture at night. If anyone noticed it, I was going to say I kept it to help start the stove in the little flat I was in.” She shrugged. “You’re right. It’s hard to remember some days.”

He held her tighter, tucking her under his chin. “Every day we get closer to an end.”

“Do you really believe that?” She asked, eyes focusing on the flickering of the fire beyond them.

“I have to,” he whispered, “I have to.”

She was comfortable in his arms, as comfortable as she’d been in months watching their small fire flicker away. The fire was keeping the chill at bay, enough for her to forget they had a long slog on foot in the cold back to base as soon as the sun came up. She could almost imagine they were in a little house, on the floor of the living room, a couch at their backs and a hardwood floor underneath them, fire flicking away in their fireplace. She didn’t often fantasize about the future, found it too painful to hope for things she couldn’t control, but her eyes started to droop as she indulged in imagining that scene. A yawn escaped her lips, and before she could hide it, he cradled her closer.

“Tired?”

“I suppose,” she deflected, “But I’ll manage a watch.”

“Sleep,” he whispered, brushing his hand over her head before kissing her temple.

Her words were still heavy with fatigue. “I can—”

“I know you can,” he gently stopped her, his voice calm and warm like honey. “I know you can.” He rubbed his hand up and down over her shoulder, soothing her closer and closer to sleep. “You’re comfortable, and I won’t sleep either way.”

“I should fight you on this,” she mumbled, cuddling closer to his chest.

“Shure you should,” his voice seemed so far away now. “But you won’t.”

The fire light faded to black as her eyes closed, the chill of the shack fading away in the comfort of Steve’s arms.

~*~

“Peg?”

She hummed at the sound of his voice, trying to turn away from his hand that was smoothing her hair down, the other rubbing over her leg, wishing desperately she could stay like this for just a few moments longer.

“Peggy?”

“I didn’t mean to sleep all night,” she croaked out, slipping from his arms and sliding to the cold floor next to him. The sky was lighter outside of the windows, and the fire was dwindling to almost nothing.

“I wanted you to.” He smiled softly, stealing a quick kiss. “I know how much trouble you have sleeping at base.”

“And off base, and on missions.” Peggy stood up, brushing the dirt off her pants and reaching out for him. “If there’s one fault of mine, it’s surely that while I can manage nearly any condition you can throw at me, I much prefer a warm soft bed and the peace of the indoors any day.”

He smiled, pushing off the ground to stand next to her, watching as she leaned back with her thumbs against her spine until he heard a satisfying pop. “Wanting comfort isn’t a fault, Peggy. Especially after all we’ve slept on.” He moved over to the fire, fanning it and adding a few more sticks to attempt to make some coffee. “I thought you were a tomboy?”

She smiled, bringing over an armful of supplies to sit next to him. “I was. I could rough and tumble with my brother and the boys without a problem. Didn’t mind playing in the dirt or climbing trees or getting messy- much to my mother’s chagrin, mind you.” She set out the two tin cups and starting pouring the water from their canteens in. “But no matter how much I begged, she never let me go camping or stay out to sleep under the stars. There was a routine every night, and there were some things my mother suffered, but me not having a lady’s toilette every night was not one of them.”

Steve laughed, “I can only imagine.”

“Oh, very often there was kicking and screaming involved, at least when I was little.” Peggy smiled, poring the instant coffee powder in and stirring. “But it’s ingrained that so fully now, it feels wrong to go without it.” She met his downturned lips with a bright shake of her head. “Last night was much better, I assure you.”

Steve took the two cups and set them next to the fire, as close as he could manage. “I’m sure I’m not nearly as comfortable as a bed would be.”

She waggled her eyebrows, sitting cross-legged next to him. “I was more than comfortable,” she was interrupted by a yawn, but continued, “and you are much more enticing than any old bed.”

He shrugged shyly, and just like so many other times, she could see that skinny man he once was, the man whose confidence bloomed just as much as his muscles did when he stepped in that machine. “I still find that hard to believe sometimes,” he muttered, sticking his pinky in one of the cups to test the temperature of the water.

“You shouldn’t,” she replied, sliding over a fruit bar ration. “You’ll be tired of hearing it from me eventually, I suspect.”

Instead of the ration, he took her hand and slipped her into is arms. “Never,” he whispered, kissing her fervently.

It was easy to melt into his arms, to fall into the kiss and wrap herself around him. They didn’t do it often enough. It was still a novelty, still something that was new and exciting and somewhat taboo because if they were every found out by the wrong person, well… she wasn’t sure what the repercussions would be. They were in Allied territory, they were warm, they were safe and they were alone. She wrapped her arms tight around him, trying to eliminate any space she could.

It was the snap and pop of the fire, their coffee sputtering over as it boiled that separated them. Steve heard it first, his sensitive ears tuned to the fact that something was wrong. He pulled away, grabbing what was left of their coffee from the fire, sputtering and cursing at the searing hot cups.

Peggy wiped at her lips as she sat back, expecting there to be lipstick on her fingers before she remembered she’d last applied it over a day ago. They were tingling and swollen, something she hadn’t felt in so long.

It made her want more, but there wasn’t time for that now.

She wasn’t sure how long they’d been lost in one another, but it was long enough for the sun to be creating rays through the cracks of the boards in the walls. She was sure they’d be granted some grace period, but neither wanted to push Phillips’ temper, or gamble with the thought that neither one was needed somewhere.

Seemed they were always needed somewhere for something.

Steve passed her a cup, somewhat cooled, and dug into his fruit bar. Peggy could imagine he was thinking the same things she was. It seemed almost wrong, forbidden, like they were teenagers afraid of getting caught snogging in the movies.

“You think it’ll ever feel alright?” She asked, eyes set on the boiled remains of her coffee.

He smiled up at her, a silly joke on his lips, before he stopped and turned serious. “I hope it will. One day.”

She looked over, nodding. “Yes. One day.” Without preamble, she drank her coffee like a shot and grabbed her still-wrapped fruit bar. “Come along, soldier.” Peggy stood, moving over to her pack. “Best get it over with, yes?”

He threw the rest of the bar in his mouth and crumbled the wrapper in his fist as he stood. Without a word he set about shoving the pile of dirt he’d pulled out of the hole right back in, smothering the fire. He was at her side, picking up his shield and handing her the other tin cup to stow by the time she’d repacked her things.

She stood, shouldering her pack as he set his shield on his back. With a soft smile she reached up on her toes and let her lips meet his. It was soft and swift, but it was enough. “Ready?” She asked, a brave smile pasted on her face to belay the emotions swirling in her stomach.

He nodded, his own mask of emotions something she was far too familiar with. “Ready.”

Without a look back, they left the small shed, Peggy following as Steve pulled out his compass and set them on course back to the base.

~*~ End Notes: Steve’s line is inspired by this post: https://at.tumblr.com/suallenparker/the-compass-will-also-not-tell-you-to-buy-my-book/vfai6twhq7tp

#steggyfanevents #thesokovianaccords #Steggy Fic #3P's Fic #Steggy Secret Santa #I'm sorry it's taken so long #and my eyes are crossing from trying to edit #but here it is!

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