#Ultra Food Deals too good to go

[stenoodie]

TGTG Surprise Bags in March 2024

Too Good To Go Surprise Bags Collected in March 2024. #torchedsushi #mochiballs #shrimprisottoarancini #icecreambuns

My surprise bag hauls in March 2024 Rescue unsold food from being wasted.  Spend less than ten dollars on a surprise bag from a restaurant, convenience store, or grocery store on the Too Good to Go app.  Continue reading TGTG Surprise Bags in March 2024

[burreauxsworld]

Ours To Keep (3) | Joe Burrow

Smut/18+, Fluff, Slight Angst

Summary: you and Joe are learning to juggle your pregnancy on top of the fast approaching football season, all while growing even closer than before, which neither of you thought was possible.

You’re bent over the toilet of the facility bathroom emptying to contents of your stomach. The nausea seemed to come in swinging. This is how you found yourself most mornings, and even throughout the day. The anti-nausea medicine prescribed to you barely ever seemed to work. Letting out a groan, you flushed the toilet and stood up.

It’d been two weeks since the confirmation of your pregnancy, and you learned from the ultra sound that you were about 3 months along. While you weren’t showing yet, the weight gain was starting to become obvious. Your jeans no longer fit you, so you opted for leggings most of the time. Your bra’s became too snug, so you had to get new ones. Most of all, you’d started wearing Joe’s bengals shirts to work to hide the weight gain. The two of you still hadn’t told anyone about the baby. You wanted to live in your own little bubble for a while. Joe agreed, knowing it would cause less stress for you if you hadn’t told anyone yet.

You washed your hands and walked out of the bathroom. You stopped by your office to grab your laptop, and made your way toward the practice field. Practice wasn’t open to the public today so you opted to work outside. You needed some fresh air anyway. You took a seat on a slightly shaded part of grass, and started to respond to emails regarding brand deals and events that Joe would need to go to. Setting up interviews and juggling everything around his football schedule. You also had to plan doctors appointments around both of your schedules, because he said he refuses to miss a single one.

You hear a whistle blow, and look up just in time to see Joe hoping on one foot, out of the way of the play and taking a seat on the ground, with his brow furrowed in pain. Your heart drops to your stomach. You set your laptop aside, and watch as Coach Taylor walks over to Joe. You don’t dare walk over there because Joe would throw a fit if someone even accidentally bumped you.

“Fuck,” you mutter as Joe gets carted off the field. You gather your things and quickly make your way back into the facility. You find Joe in one of the medical rooms sitting on the table, he’s by himself so you slip into the room. “Hey, what happened?”

“Strained my damn calf.” he spits, and you wince. “Sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out so harsh” he apologizes. “Zac dismissed me for the day. I’m just trying to find the motivation to get up and take a shower before we head out. Hurts like a bitch,” he admits, looking over at you. “Do you need help?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“No, I should be okay. I don’t think I can drive though”

“Well it’s a good thing we came together then. You’ll just have to trust me to drive your baby” you joke, and he jokingly rolls his eyes. “If I can trust you to carry my baby then I guess I can trust you to drive my third baby” he jokes, and you grow confused. “Third?”

“Well, there’s you, our baby, and my Porsche” he explains, and your heart melts. “Let’s get outta here,” he says before you can say anything, slowly getting on his feet.

•••

“Thanks, baby” Joe says as you set a plate of food in front of him while he sits on the couch with his leg elevated. You smiled at him in return before taking a seat next to him. You look over at him while he eats, and you can’t shake the thought from your head. “Joey,” you say, catching his attention. “Can we talk…about us?”

He sets his plate aside and looks over at you, not being able to move much due to his calf. “What about us?” He asks softly. You let out a sigh. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just wondering where everything leaves us. You know, with the baby and all. I’m 100% okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I have to get this off of my chest” you tell him, taking a deep breath. He bites the inside of his cheek, stopping a smile from forming. He knows exactly where this is going.

“I’ve liked you for a really long time. Which is why I let our situation go on for such a long time. I craved that touch from you. I craved literally anything from you. I guess what I’m trying to say is, this baby made me realize that I don’t want to be without you. Ever. I love you, Joey, and you don’t have to say back. I just needed you to know-“

He cuts you off by pulling you in for a kiss. The kiss was slow, not rushed. Soft and full of love. It felt like fireworks were bursting in your chest. You pulled away and stared into his eyes, a look of adoration evident in the ocean blue irises that you loved so much.

“I love you, so so much” Joe mutters. “You and our baby”

“So what does this mean for us?” You ask quietly, with a hint of hope in your voice. “It means you’ve always been my girl, but now it’s official” he smirks, pulling you to straddle his waist. “Joey, I don’t wanna hurt you!” You shriek, trying to get off of his lap. “It’s my calf not my thighs. You’re perfectly fine, baby” he assures you, before smashing his lips onto yours.

This kiss was feverish and full of desire. The raw passion made the room around you feel warm. Joe’s hands settle on your ass, grinding you down on his growing erection inside his sweats. He groans into the kiss as he repeats his action. Your hands slide down his clothed chest, moving slowly toward the bottom of his hoodie. You slide your hands under his hoodie and his shirt, moving it up and he help you take it off. His hands grip the bottom of your shirt and pull it over your head, you weren’t wearing a bra, do your boobs sprung in his face.

His mouth attaches to one of your sensitive nipples and you let out a sharp gasp. “Please be gentle, they’re sore right now” you tell him breathlessly. “I got you baby, I’ll take care of you” Joe says, his tongue slowly circling your left nipple. You tip your head back as you let out a soft moan. He gently sucks it into his mouth before letting it go with a pop, moving to the other side.

“Fuck, Joey” you whine, grinding yourself into his lap. “You like this gorgeous? Fuck, your tits are huge now. They’re so beautiful” he groans, softly kneading them in his large hands. You lean in capturing his lips again. His hands push your cotton shorts over the curve of your ass, slapping it as he does so, causing you to gasp.

“Take these off,” he says, helping you stand to remove your shorts. He removes his sweats as well. Both of you completely bare, not like you haven’t been before. You straddle his waist again, his hard cock rubbing perfectly against your swollen bud. You whine, grinding down. “I’m gonna take care of you, baby, don’t you worry” he whispers in your ear, his voice laced with lust. His hand moves between your thighs, groaning when he feels how wet you are for him. You whine as he gathers your wetness and his fingers start to circle your clit.

Your nipples rubbing against his chest made the pleasure feel almost overwhelming. His lips are back on yours while his fingers work you. Your moans and whines are caught in his mouth. He pulls away, his lips finding your chest again, you throw your head back. “Fuck Joey!” You whine loudly. “Fuuuckk” you moan out, and he smirks against your chest. You let out a sharp gasp when his fingers move from your clit to your sopping entrance, and he inserts two fingers.

“Fuck you’re so wet for me,” Joe groans. “Baby, I’m gonna cum” you whine out and his fingers move faster. “Cum for me baby. Cum all over my hand”

Your breathless moans sound throughout the living room, your head tipped back as you fall apart from just his talented fingers. You lean forward and rest your sweaty forehead on his shoulder. “You think you can ride me, baby?” Joe mutters into your ear, nipping at your earlobe. You nod and pull back to position yourself above him. Sinking down slowly, you feel every inch. Every vein. Your eyes are shut and mouth formed into a perfect “O” shape. Joe lets out a groan as you’re fully seated. He gives you a minute to adjust to his size.

You feel so full. You haven’t felt this in almost a month due to the two of you being so busy. You start to move back and fourth, a soft moan slipping past your lips. Joe’s large hands find your waist to help guide you. You let out a laid moan as he lips your hips and slams you back down. “Oh my god!”

“Yeah, you like that baby?”

You let out a loud moan in response. His hands basically doing all of the work. The pace is merciless. His cock hitting all the right places. “Fuck, daddy, right there!” You yell out, without realizing what had slipped, but Joe fucking loved it. “Say it again.” He orders, moving you faster. “Fuck, daddy!” You gasp out. You can feel the knot tightening in your belly. Joe can feel the way you’re squeezing him, and he knows you’re close.

“You gonna cum baby? Cum all over this dick”

You let out a loud, high pitched whine. “I’m gonna fill you up. You’re gonna look so sexy all big and pregnant with my baby. Fuuckkk” Joe groans, tipping his head back. You yell out as you come apart, his hands holding you in place. Both of your chests heaving. You lean forward and lay your head on his shoulder and slowly lift yourself off of him, both of you hissing.

“That was hot,” you comment breathlessly.

“So hot.” Joe agrees. “You good?” He asks and you lift your head to make eye contact. “So good.”

“But I am a little hungry.” You comment sheepishly, and Joe lets out a loud laugh. “Alright. Let’s go shower and then get you and baby some food”

•••

The next day at work was a busy one. The first pre season game was in just 3 days. You and other players assistants were running around like chickens with their heads cut off trying to prepare everything for the guys. You more than most since you literally work for the quarterback. You felt like you hadn’t had a chance to stop and take a breath.

Finally you were able to retreat to your office for lunch. Gabby already sitting at her desk, smiled at you tiredly as you walked in. “Hey girlie” she says, and you smile at her. “Hey. Heard your load was pretty big today” you comment and she groans. “Don’t remind me—oh my gosh! Y/N, you have blood on the back of your pants” Gabby says, letting out a gasp. You heart falls into your stomach. This isn’t happening.

“Oh my god!” Your eyes begin to fill with tears. “Hey, it’s okay. I have an extra pair of pants in my bag that you can borrow-“

“Gabby, I need you to go get Joe”

“Why would you need Joe for this?” She questions confused. “Gabby please. Just get Joe”

[lets-try-some-writing]

i love it when people apply the whole “humans are space orcs” idea to transformer humans.

jack, miko and raf just doing regular, average day things that make the bots both extremely worried and unsettled gives me so much brainrot.

I got you here. I love this kind of lore/reaction ask.

Each of the children have a particular habit that bothers the team more than anything else. Can it be explained? Not really. All humans do the things they do. But for the bots, it is strange and out of sorts all the same.

Miko always carries around a bottle of sparkling water. She adores the stuff. The team, despite knowing it is not what the name implies, are still horrified with her drinking habits. Not to mention, they can't help but wonder where all the liquid goes. She drinks up to three whole bottles of water a day. In her own words "Hydrate or die." That in it of itself is concerning since the team, while well aware that humans need water, do not know how much they need exactly. The team are down right terrified of her ability to down water like a dry sponge. How can such a small fleshy even consume that much? They aren't entirely sure. Not only that, but if she drinks that much, then are Jack and Rafael getting enough? They can't be.

Not only does Miko down water like a bone dry houseplant, she also drinks just about anything else too. The team have seen her chug sodas which contain Primus knows how many strange chemicals and compounds. They've observed her willingly drink things that no other would on bets, including food that has been blended and watered down just because Jack wanted to see if it was possible for her to down hotdog cafeteria milk cheeto apple slurry.

Yes the team are terrified of humans and their ability to put anything inside themselves and walk it off. But more than any other, they fear Miko. Who knows what she's consumed.

All the kids do it, but Jack is the most notable since when he needs to go to the restroom, he makes it loud and clear mainly so that someone knows to keep an eye on Miko. The team are aware that organics have a need to manually handle removing waste since their systems are rather inefficient, however there is a certain level of mysteriousness surrounding the restrooms. The bots don't want to watch or even know HOW the humans get rid of waste, but they do know that THINGS happen in the restroom that seem to either be painful, emotional, refreshing, or aggravating. No one can really be sure what reaction will follow those who enter the space. Sometimes Jack or one of the other kids will go in there seemingly to just be alone.

It is a strange and almost sacred location where strange happenings occur. Miko went in once with bloody clothes and emerged with a fresh set before Ratchet could figure out what was wrong in the first place. Jack went in once and came out an hour later looking like he'd gone to war after he convinced Arcee to let him stop and get takeout the night before. Rafael took his charger and computer in there and hogged the space for a while to get away from the others once. The team does not know what happens in there, but it is mildly concerning since it either repairs or breaks a person.

Bulkhead theorizes that its a pocket dimension like the shadow zone. Ratchet refuses to think about it. Optimus will say nothing about whatever he knows. Arcee and Bee assume its a safe haven or sorts and Wheeljack is almost certain they keep weapons in there. Ultra Magnus and Smokescreen both agree that the restroom is simply a quiet space where a human can deal with personal issues in peace.

No bot is willing to try and confirm anything since humans flip out at any attempts to view the supposedly sacred ground.

Rafael is generally pretty good about flying under the radar most of the time, but he has a habit that has caught the team's attention. Humans have been noted doing what they can to clean themselves on their own. Its rather ineffective to clean one's own venting openings with digits considering the sheer amount of germs involved, but it is not out of the question to do so when a cleaning cloth is not available. Rafael occasionally and quietly trying to clean his nose is not what bothers the team.

No what horrifies them is the goop that he pulls out after his attempt at cleaning. What Ratchet has studied states that the goop is referred to by a number names, but is commonly called snot. Its the natural germ catcher humans have, but it still unsettles the team whenever Rafael quietly blows a few or when one of the others grabs a tissue and makes a rather disgusting sound as they try to clear their airways.

The goop reminds the team of any number of horrible things. But the sheer amount of GROSS within a small amount of the stuff has left the team all gagging whenever they find the stuff around base. Rafael is usually good about being clean, but sometimes he gets lazy and will use his chair to hide his cleaning attempts. Bumblebee has almost purged a few times seeing the marks on the chair from where Rafael may or may not have wiped his fingers.

Is he twelve? Yes. Is he fully mature? No. That much is evident just by looking at his chair.

[krirebr]

More Than This 7

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~3.9k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, explicit language, fighting, my own rampant abuse of italics and em dashes, non-stop continuous action (not the car chase kind, but like, the no section breaks kind), the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: There's no going back now.

Permanent thanks, as always, to @paperweight91 who lets me talk her ear off about this and always has the best input.

I cannot wait to talk to you all about this one, so please leave me a comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think! And if you need to come scream at me, that's even better!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You woke up to the sun streaming in through the windows. You rolled over and checked the time. It was after nine. You’d slept hard—the exhaustion of everything catching up with you. And yet you still hadn’t woken up feeling rested. You couldn’t remember the last time you did.

You grabbed your phone and groaned when you saw all the notifications. Texts, missed calls, two voicemails. All from Steve. He was freaking out. 

Are you ok?

Did something happen?

Please call me

And a few more just like them. You were too tired to answer. You didn’t know how. Besides, it wasn’t like he hadn’t ignored your messages before. You grimaced at your own pettiness. You would answer him when you knew what to say.

As soon as Lola noticed you were awake, she hopped off your makeshift bed and ran to the door, scratching at it to be let out. You sighed. Of course, the safety of your isolation couldn’t last forever. The good news was that it was late enough that Ransom must be gone. You could put that off at least until the evening.

When you opened the door, Lola at your heels, you heard someone moving around downstairs. You hadn’t thought it was a Carol day, but you must’ve lost track. It wasn’t until you were halfway down the stairs that you saw Ransom puttering around in the kitchen, his back to you. Your stomach dropped. Shit shit shit. Why was he here? You contemplated running back into the gym, but as soon as she saw him, Lola darted out ahead of you and raced down the stairs so she could dance around at his feet. He crouched down to greet her. “Morning, Lola,” he rumbled, his voice still full of sleep. “D’you have a good night?” She hopped up and down, pawing at his leg.

You took a deep breath and gathered all of your courage. “She wants breakfast,” you said from your place on the stairs.

His head whipped up to you. He stood up awkwardly. “Oh, uh, where’s her food?”

You came down the rest of the stairs and passed in front of him into the kitchen. “I’ll do it,” you said as you went straight to the cabinet where you kept Lola’s meal supplies. 

Once you had her fed and briefly let her out the back door, you noticed multiple bags of take-out on the island. “What’s all this?”

“Oh, uh,” Ransom rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at you. “I thought we should probably have breakfast. Together. And I didn’t really know what you like, so…” he shrugged.

You quickly took stock of the food. There were diner waffles, pastries from a bakery, eggs benedict from a fancy brunch place. “Thank you,” you said. “That’s nice.” You grabbed a danish from the pastry bag and sat down at the island. “I, uh–” you started then stopped, and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I freaked out last night. I, uh– I don’t know what happened. I– I was scared, I guess, by the–” you gestured to your stomach. “But um, I shouldn’t’ve– It won’t happen again, you know? I’m fine now. Everything’s fine.”

Ransom leaned against the counter, facing you, and closed his eyes. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, then looked you straight in the eyes and said, “I’m so fucking tired of that word.”

You set down your pastry and looked at him, confused. “What?”

“You’re always so fucking fine, aren’t you? I ask how your day was, it was fine. I ask how you feel about something, it’s fine. I ask what’s wrong when you’re clearly upset, and you say, ‘Oh nothing, everything’s fine.’ It’s fine! It’s fine! It’s fine! I can’t hear it one more time.”

All you could do was sputter for a moment. “What– What are you talking about?! I’ve just been doing what you wanted!”

“How is this what I wanted?” he asked, his frustration shocking you..

But then, your mind started to catch up a bit and you were suddenly filled with indignation. “You told me to pack light! You– You– You made it clear! I know you don’t want me here so I’m just– I’m just trying to do what you want! I'm staying out of your way!”

He laughed and the hollow sound was so startling. “This is you staying out of my way? You’re just this presence that’s always here! That makes me feel unwelcome in my own home!”

That had you standing up so quickly that it sent the stool you’d been on tumbling to the floor behind you. A frightened Lola scampered up the stairs, her collar tinkling sharply, but neither of you noticed. 

“What?!” you shouted, “How could– I– This is your house! How could you ever feel unwelcome here? I’ve never felt welcome here for even a moment! I’m not even a guest here, I’m just this, this– I don’t know! I’m just this pest that you wish you could exterminate but you can’t. You don’t want me here and I feel it every single day.”

“Well, you’ve never told me that, have you?” He almost growled out. “I’m just supposed to know! I see you making this list in your head of everything I’m doing wrong, all the ways I’m disappointing you but you never say anything about any of it. But then when I don’t know how to fix any of it, because I don’t actually know what’s wrong, you resent me for it!” You started to open your mouth and he slammed a hand down on the island between you. “Don’t deny it. I can see it whenever you look at me. You’ve decided that I’m the villain here, right? I’m the bad guy in this story. And I don’t–” He moved his hands to his hips and looked away from you, shaking his head. “I have no idea who you are,” he said, quieter now but no less forceful. “You don’t want me to. You have me just grasping at straws and– But you’ve just decided, huh? That you know exactly who I am.”

All you could do for a full fifteen seconds was just gape at him. He looked tired suddenly. Sad, as if that made any sense at all with anything that had happened. But then you remembered everything that had happened and your anger came flooding back. “Yes, I know who you are. Of course, I do! Because you showed me! It’s like you’ve completely forgotten how we met. Or our wedding!” A tear fell down your cheek and you knew more were about to follow, ready to tip over your lashes. You wanted to wipe them away, but you also just couldn’t take the time to stop right now. “You were awful! Really fucking awful. Right from the beginning you were so cruel and– and now– No! I– How can you expect me to come to you with anything when you all but told me not to during that first dinner?! When you told me you didn’t want me taking up any space here? Or that you would get rid of Lola?! Of course I don’t talk to you! What am I supposed to talk to you about when you terrify me? When everything I have comes from you and you don’t give me anything? When you hold all of the power?!” 

“What fucking power?” Ransom shouted, throwing his arms wide. “If I had any power at all, neither of us would be in this mess!”

“It’s still more than I have! I have nothing! You’re the heir. You matter to people. I’ve only ever been a bargaining chip. And now that they’ve made the deal, no one gives a shit what happens to me. You could do anything to me, and they wouldn’t care! Even my mom–” You cut yourself off, tears choking your voice.

There was a beat of silence, and then, “Even your mom what?” Ransom asked, his voice rough. He was staring at you like the next words out of your mouth would be the most important ever spoken.

And it was only because you felt it too, everything riding on this, that you managed to say, your voice so small and your eyes downcast, “She only ever asks if I’m making you happy.”

When he didn’t say anything to that, you looked back up to find him staring at you, his eyes incredibly serious. But not angry, something– something else. Finally, he sighed and, putting both elbows on the island, said, “I’m really fucking miserable. How ‘bout you?”

You would try to examine it later, the way your instinct in that moment was to apologize or try to downplay your own feelings, your mom’s voice in your head no matter how much you hated it, but instead you took a deep breath and said, “Yeah, I’m– I’ve been so unhappy.”

He nodded then scrubbed a hand over his face. “I think,” he said slowly. “I think we’ve both been acting like if we just ignore this hard enough we’ll wake up one day and this will be over and our lives will go back to normal. But now with the–,” he gestured to you. “We can’t keep doing that. We gotta– We have to figure out a way to live with this.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, wrapping one arm around your stomach. You couldn’t help but look at him a little warily. Was this real? Did he mean it? “How do we do that?” 

He chuckled ruefully. “I don’t know.”

You just looked at him for a moment before you were interrupted by your stomach growling loudly. “Sorry,” you said, awkwardly. “I didn’t eat much last night.”

“Right,” he said with a decisive nod, “breakfast.”

You each served yourselves from all the food he’d ordered. He righted the stool you knocked over and you both sat down to eat. You didn’t say anything, neither of you did. You figured he had just as much to think about as you did. 

You couldn’t stop thinking about how he’d said he had no idea who you were. It’d been easy, maybe, to forget that this was something that had happened to both of you, when you were in his house, facing his family, working your way into his life. It’d never occurred to you, after that first meeting, that he might want to get to know you, might want to see past all the walls you’d put up to protect yourself. But you felt like they were fortified now. You weren’t sure how to take them down.

Even though you kept your focus on your food, you could tell he kept glancing at you. You felt his eyes on you every few minutes. Finally, as you both finished up your food, he cleared his throat. “I’m an asshole,” he said quietly. “I just am. I always have been. But uh, you didn’t– You didn’t deserve that at dinner. Or the wedding. Or when I yelled at you last night. It didn’t– I don’t think it occurred to me that you’d take me, what I said, seriously. I’m not used to people listening to me, not like that.”

You stared at your plate for a moment and tried to keep breathing. “I– Of course, I took you seriously. What else would I do? I didn’t know you and I was already so scared and– How was I supposed to know you didn’t mean it?” You could feel yourself starting to cry again and wiped furiously at your eyes.

He sighed heavily. “Yeah, I– I didn’t do a good job of understanding how hard this was for you. And I– I’ll try not to do that again.”

All you could do with that was nod.

“But uh– I need you to talk to me, tell me when something’s wrong. I can’t– I need you to talk to me. I’ll, uh, I won’t be mad or– I feel like the few times you’ve let yourself be upset, those are the only times I felt like I could actually see you. I want to be able to see you.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m uh,” you started, trying to find your words. “I’m used to having to put on a mask. It’s really hard for me to not do that.”

He nodded slowly. “How ‘bout,” he said, “I’ll try to be less of an asshole if you try to let yourself be more of one?”

You laughed. You couldn’t help it, it just bubbled out of you, to your own surprise. “Sure,” you smiled, “yeah. Deal.” You met his eyes and he looked proud of himself. There was something about the way he was looking at you that made you have to look away. You put all your attention into taking a last bite of your food.

“So,” he said, and he sounded serious again. “I think we should talk about last night.”

It took everything in you to not shrink down. You wanted to do anything else, but he was right. You needed to. So you nodded and waited for him to start.

“You said– Well. You said a lot of things. But let’s start with– You said I keep you trapped here.”

Your brow furrowed a little bit. “Well, yeah, you only have one car and you don’t have a driver. How am I supposed to go anywhere?”

The dawning realization on his face would have almost been comical if it had been about something that hadn’t caused you so much pain. “Oh my god,” he said. “I– Why didn’t you– No, right. Yeah.” He took out his phone and started typing. “I’ll figure something out. Do you drive?”

“Steve taught me, a little, when I was a teenager. But I’m not– I’m not super comfortable,” you shrugged.

“Ok,” he said typing a few more words, then put his phone down. He looked at you very seriously and said, “Now I need you to tell me exactly what you meant about siccing my mom on you.”

“Oh, well, just that she came over, you know, the next day after I told you I wanted to find a job.”

Ransom’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Here? She came here?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, not entirely sure what was happening. “She let herself in and said you’d talked to her about how I wanted to work and that you wanted me to focus on giving you a family. That that was my job now.”

Ransom’s face darkened in a way you’d never seen before. “Fucking–” he growled. “Goddamnit.” You watched him warily and when he made eye contact, you saw the way he worked to soften his expression. He shook his head. “I never said that. I just, I brought it up to her because she has connections, you know, in surprising places. I should have known. I was stupid. And when you didn’t bring it up again, I just, I assumed it hadn’t worked out and you didn’t want to talk about it.” He took a deep breath, clearly trying to make himself calm down. “Did she say anything else?”

You looked at him carefully. It was almost like he looked different today, something about him. It really did seem like he was trying. So you took a breath and decided to trust him. “She wasn’t very nice to me. She never is. She’s– She’s only ever been awful to me.”

“Yeah,” he said grimly, “that’s fucking Linda. Alright, she comes here again, I want you to tell me. Don’t even talk to her, just call me right away. She tries to call you, you tell me. She ever says anything to you, you tell me, ok?”

“Yeah,” you said, and you didn’t know how to guard yourself from the warmth that spread through you. “I’ll tell you.”

He nodded. “Good. And if you still want to get a job, I’ll help you, ok? I want to do that.”

“Yeah, I,” you sighed, “I don’t know. Everything’s really overwhelming right now.”

“I get that,” he said, “but if you change your mind, let me know.”

“I will,” you promised. Then, when he didn’t immediately bring up another topic from the night before, you raised one of your own. “Um, you never use your gym.” He looked at you, confused, and you shook your head at yourself. “Sorry, it’s just, you have all those rooms upstairs that you never use, and well, you and I,” you rested a hand on your belly, “we did what we needed to do, right? So, uh, I’m having my bedroom furniture shipped here and if it’s alright, I’d like to, uh, turn that room into my room.” 

There was a long pause, long enough for you to get uncomfortable, start to worry that you’d messed up. His face was blank, you couldn’t find any clues there. Then, finally, he seemed to shake himself and said, “Yeah, sure, of course. I’ll, uh, I’ll have it cleared out for you.”

You breathed a sigh of relief. “Great! Thank you! I’m sure you’ll be happy to have your own space back.”

“Right, yeah,” he said and nodded several times. “Yeah.”   

You both got quiet again after that, but it didn’t feel as oppressive as it often had before. Eventually, you began cleaning up breakfast together. As you moved around him in the kitchen to load the dishwasher, you paused. “Hey, uh, what’d you tell your parents? About last night, dinner?”

“Oh,” he said, turning to you from the fridge. “Just that I was suddenly violently ill and we couldn’t make it.”

That stopped you completely. You’d been bent over as you loaded plates, but now you stood up, giving him all of your attention. “Really? You didn’t– didn’t blame me? Or uh, tell them about–”

He finished what he was doing and closed the fridge, then closed some of the space between you. “What? No, fuck that. Listen, any excuse to not have to deal with Richard and Linda is welcome. I’m serious. Fuck them.”

That was when everything really hit you, just how badly you'd misread so much of what had happened. Of all the pain you’d suffered over the past months, how much of it had been self-inflicted? Would everything have been so much easier, for both of you, if you’d just been willing to talk to him? For what felt like the thousandth time that morning, you felt your eyes beginning to well. You tried to turn your head away, but Ransom noticed before you could.

“Hey,” Ransom said quietly as he approached you cautiously, stopping right in front of you, his hands hovering in the air between you both. “What’s going on? What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know,” you said, your voice tight. “I don’t know. I just– Everything’s just been so hard.”

Ransom sighed, heavily. “Yeah. I know.”

“Um,” you let out a defeated, embarrassed little laugh as the tears began to fall down your face. “Do you think it’s too early to blame pregnancy hormones?” you asked, as you tried to make yourself stop crying.

Instead of dismissing it as a joke, Ransom looked at you very seriously. “I think that you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

There was something about that, the way it felt like acceptance, that made the tears come even harder.

It was then, of course, that your phone started vibrating on the counter, Steve’s ID flashing on the screen. “Oh,” you said, “um, shit.” You just stared at it, not quite able to pick it up. “I, uh, texted him last night. During everything. I’m sure he’s freaking out now.”

“Right,” Ransom nodded. “Well, I’ll give you some privacy.”

You were suddenly filled with the ridiculous need to not be alone right now. “Uh, yeah, thanks. But, uh, maybe, maybe don’t go far.” Your voice dropped out a little at the end of the sentence, embarrassed.

He looked at you carefully and you couldn’t imagine what he saw. A mess, probably. “Yeah,” he said, “of course. I’ll be just upstairs. Shout if you need me.”

Then he left and you took a deep breath. The call had gone to voicemail while you’d dithered, so you called Steve back, sure he’d try again anyway if you delayed any further.

He picked up immediately. “Oh thank god,” he breathed. “What’s going on? Are you ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just–” you began, trying to keep your voice strong. But of course, you couldn’t hide from Steve.

“Are you crying?” he asked gruffly. “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not, Steve,” you lied.

“Chipmunk,” he said, sadly, knowing how hard the childhood nickname would hit you. “What’s going on? What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You closed your eyes as tightly as you could. “Nothing. It’s just–” You knew you had to tell him something but you had no idea where to start. You could tell him, you supposed, about– about the baby, but it felt impossible to say out loud. And you had no idea how he’d react. Or, rather you had a very good idea, and it was very, very bad. You didn’t have the energy for that. Or the strength and courage. Not now. Maybe not ever. But you couldn’t talk about what happened the night before and this morning without mentioning that part, so really, you couldn’t talk about anything. And you knew your brother. You knew how that would go over. “I’m tired. And I miss you.”

He was silent for several moments. When he finally spoke, all he said was, “I know something happened.”

“It didn’t Steve. Everything’s fine.”

“I know you’re lying to me. Why are you lying?” He was pleading now and you were too tired and hormonal for this.

“Steve,” you pleaded right back, your voice breaking just a little. “Can you please just believe me? Just this once?”

There was another long pause, and then, “Goddammit, I hate this. I can’t– I worry about you all the time. Every time I see a missed call or text from you, my stomach drops. But now you won’t talk to me. And I can’t help you. I don’t know what to do about any of it.”

“Steve,” you sighed. “I know you think you should always be able to fix everything, but there’s just nothing for you to fix this time, ok? Please?”

He just sighed and you both quietly sat on the phone together. You didn’t know what to say to him but couldn’t hang up. Finally, he broke the silence with “I really fucking miss you.”

You smiled just a little, even as you wiped the tears from your face. “I fucking miss you too. And I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said quietly. He sighed again. “Ok, I should go. But we’ll talk again soon. Take care of yourself.”

“Ok,” you said softly. “Bye.” You hung up and set your phone down then put your head in your hands and let yourself cry without trying to stop it. You didn’t notice anything happening around you until you felt a weight settle onto the couch beside you and suddenly your lap was full of Lola. Then a hand gingerly touched your back. When you didn’t move away, it started gently moving up and down. You couldn’t help but lean into it.

The strangest sensation came over you. You couldn’t explain it, but as you sat there on the couch, crying while Ransom rubbed your back, you somehow felt the best you had in months.

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @citronbun @rebeccapineapple @alexakeyloveloki @dancer3205 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @thecrandle @lokislady82 @thedazzlingburglar @23skidoosteven @she-wolf09231982 @arbesa-mind @samfreakingwinchester @blackhawkfanatic @emerald-writes @identity2212 @have-another-doughnut @patzammit @blackhawkfanatic @mooievis @dontbescaredtosingalong @curiousandjoyous @helensdrafts @cricket66 @vyctorya @disgruntled-cat @heyyitsreign @reader2003 @zaqnette @kmc1989 @steviebbboi @itsteambartowski @mrsstuckyboo

[beemochi-art]

Omg I love this already-

Can you do 22, 34, 36 for jazz and prowl plz!

22) Jazz has a pretty clear love language. He can’t seem to keep his hands off Prowl, or be very far away from him. Jazz loves touching and kisses. Very cuddly. Prowl is Jazz’s safe space basically. He will also bring him energon cubes even if prowl already had one. Or he’ll pour some of his into Prowl’s cup.

Prowls love language is letting get away with all this All the public affection and invading his personal space. Anyone else tries even a quarter of what Jazz does would get snapped at. But with Jazz he not only lets it happen but welcomes it. Sometimes Prowl will tell him it’s too much, but that’s rarely. Prowl also likes giving gifts, is hard sometimes tho when Jazz is like, “I don’t want anything but you .” Sigh, lingerie shopping it is. (Prowl feels silly putting that stuff on but Jazz loves it.)

Their shared love language tho is messing with each of. Intentionally stepping on buttons to get a reaction. (Playing essentially.) when mess with each other it’s never huge it’s just little things like, prowl taking Jazz’s food right in front of him or Jazz licking Prowl directly in the face. (Both of these things I’ve draw.) jazz is not easy to annoy or get a reaction out of and no one would ever expect Prowl of doing anything fun of the sorts.

Fundamental they are both two very different people. But their differences complement each other. Prowl has loosened up a little and Jazz has someone he can rely on when he’s upset rather than bottling up emotions.

34) When Prowl is upset he goes looking for Jazz. Some how Jazz’s cuddling and cooing always makes him feel better. When Prowl is scared or distraught he’ll cling to Jazz like a lifeline. It’s Prowl’s tern to be the clingy one.

When Jazz is upset he’s not hugging or any of his usual antics, he’ll still seek out Prowl but will just sit next to him, letting Prowl close the distance.

When Jazz is really upset or worse really angry. He won’t go to Prowl at all. Prowl obviously goes looking for him, he knows something’s up when Jazz is no where to be seen. When Prowl does find him, he doesn’t touch him or ask him what’s wrong. Prowl instead says to him, let’s go to the track or gym. anywhere to get the excess energy out. Jazz doesn’t say anything but follows Prowl there. Prowl will burn energy too sure, but this is for Jazz. And when Jazz is finally done he’s shaking and breathing hard. But finally he’ll open up and tell Prowl what’s wrong. Sometimes Jazz will completely crack and not even say anything but go to Prowl and cry, finally they are hugging, maybe later when when emotions aren’t so high will they talk, but now all Jazz needs is comfort.

Jazz is an emotional wreck and no one’s knows but prowls.

When it’s not at all a big deal. He’ll act like this.

36) Jazz is more protective. He will fight. Sometimes it’s annoying to Prowl.

Prowl knows Jazz is very capable of taking care of himself, so often times Prowl will let him handle it. But if it’s a jab at their relationship or it ultra Magnus is taking it too far. Prowl will step is and the yelling starts, if you think you can out yell and out bitch prowl. You’re wrong. Jazz will be behind him with the biggest shit eating grin. When Prowl gets done with the verbal ass whooping, he’ll take his lunch break early, all while holding hands with jazz.

When they are both in battle, they are pretty good at avoiding major damage, but they’d take a bullet for each other any day.

[tommyssupercoolblog]

Thinking about how my husband is a puppyboy and how, if that translated, I would probably be considered a monsterfucker in the warrior cats universe.

Like, imagine you're a cat in the warrior cats universe, living in a society that is entirely cats.

In your clan, and ONLY your clan, there is a singular tiny kitty with a huge dog mate who's so big that the cat's head only goes to his knees. And when you ask about it he goes "nothing in the warrior code says I can't date a dog; He's not from another clan, and he literally can't be a kittypet- you can't stop me lol" and then you watch him climb his mate like a tree until he's on the dog's back and he licks him and purrs and nuzzles into his back furr. And you just have to deal with it I guess

The leader can't find any actual good reason to forbid it so he just goes "he's too big to fit in camp though" and you watch this skinny blonde little shit go "okay >:3" and build a GIANT nest for this dog like RIGHT outside camp but still in their territory, big enough for the dog, and he's like "he can fit in HERE though" and the leader is like "oh my god....you did NOT......"

"He can help chase off invaders :3 his size will be an advantage in battle if you let him live with us :3"

"he can't do warrior training or else he'll crush the other cats on accident"

"oKAYYYY....but I bet he could carry a LOT of prey and herbs in his mouth at once. :3 And he has a good nose. :3 So he could help us get resources. :3"

"I.....I can't think of an argument against that. Fuck. Okay I guess???????? Starclan are you seeing this shit"

Medicine cat asks starclan if it's okay to let a dog join the clan and starclan is like "honestly this has never happened before, we kinda just wanna see what happens?? LMAO this is crazy. Real entertainment right here. We're not interfering this is way too interesting we gotta see this shit go down"

Dog starts living in the nest on the edge of camp and the blonde cat insists on sleeping with his mate, usually literally curling up right on top of him or curling up on his side with the dog's tail around him.

The dog gets worried about the cat getting sick if it rains or is windy, and asks for permission to dig out a den??? The leader is like "uh. Ok???" And in one afternoon this dog has a den big enough for both of them and they move the nest inside. And everyone's like "damn. I guess that's what you get for having a guy who is that big and that good at digging.

Starclan thinks this is hilarious and one cat actually suggests they start hiring dogs to build all the dens.

The next gathering happens and all anyone wants to talk about is how your clan is absolutely BONKERS because some weirdo from your clan got a crush on a dog who was in the forest, learned to speak dog, hunted down the dog (who learns to speak cat), and started COURTING the dog, and then brought the dog BACK TO CAMP, where he dug his heels in and INSISTED that everyone let this dog, who is the love of his life apparently, sleep near camp and help them hunt (and build dens when needed, after the digging spectacle). And the cat can't read social cues at all so he's just talking about this super casually and nonchalantly and bragging about his mate while the other cats are looking at him with their eyes bulging out of their heads like "WHAT"

The dog ends up slowly making friends in the clan and gaining the respect of his clanmates just by being sweet and kind and genuinely funny and just, so poggers, and also by adding food to the fresh kill pile, although there's still some of the ultra conservative cats being like "well I never." And the blonde cat just smugly goes "what? Do you doubt the wisdom of your ancestors?" And the other cats get quiet and shift uncomfortably at that SICK BURN.

The dog can't get to the gathering spot because he's too big but the cat always fills him in on everything with nonstop yapping as soon as they get back.

Whenever they go on a walk together the dog has to walk very slowly because the smallest step from him is HUGE to the cat and the cat is constantly running and taking huge strides to keep up. And you see them running around the territory like that and watch this dog try to keep the pace of a cat ten times smaller than him.

Whenever the dog licks the cat his tongue covers basically the entire cat's face and he's all wet and slicked back from it and he gets SO proud and happy about it. Bro is BEAMING and all of his fur is moist and combed backwards.

Cats start to joke that you can tell if someone is from your clan because they'll smell a little bit like dog. The blonde cat, of course, smells MUCH MORE THAN A LITTLE BIT like dog. Bro is DRENCHED in dog, and the dog smells a lot like him also, their scents are all mixed together.

You wake up in the middle of the night and you hear a repeating thumping noise outside and you KNOW it's from the dog next door wagging his tail while they're all coupley and affectionate together. And you just roll your eyes and go back to sleep.

[cocaineverr]

is eating too many carbohydrates going to make me gain weight? i stay in a low intake deficit but i noticed most of my macros are from carbs. are there any setbacks to not prioritizing protein?

hii anon! Thank you for sending an ask! ❤️❤️🙂 also I am sorry I am late on this response 🙁🫡I’ll try to be better!

TL;DR : your BMR can slow down .

So regarding a high carb diet it is what a lot of muscle builders / weight lifters use to keep their energy and strength up through the day. That’s only because they eat in an excess. Now there isn’t really a benefit to prioritizing fat or protein really because when you eat more of it and less of other macronutrients then it will get stored as fat, especially protein. That’s harder to loose because it weighs more and you’ll have to fast for longer to tap into that muscle/protein reserve.

If you’re in a low intake state then there really is no benefit to eating too much of one macro, especially carbs. If you’re a student or someone who deals with having to retain information then this is very helpful. Of course it depends on what kind of food you’re eating because straight junk will not do any favors.

If you want to do high carb, here are some healthy foods to help support this:

whole wheat bread

whole oats

Starchy vegetables

Starchy fruits

whole grain pasta

legumes

HOMEMADE grain/oat based sweets

Avoid ultra processed foods. Avoid sugar being the first listed ingredient (that means it is what the product is mostly consisting of). Avoid foods that claim to be “whole wheat” because they often are scams. Instead try to make your own alternatives, especially to foods like cookies, granola bars, pastries, salad dressings, and fruit snacks.

If you want to do high protein, here are some healthy foods to help support this:

whole eggs (including yolk)

cheese

skim milk

cottage cheese

lean cut chicken, salmon, fish, and beef

home-cut deli meat

certain legumes (such as black beans)

Avoid products that claim to be low fat, high protein. Avoid products that claim to be plant based if you are omnivorous. Avoid products that have too much sugar compared to protein, specifically YOGURT. avoid any ultra processed meat, and try to buy meat raw when you can. You can make your own high protein snacks at home.

If you want to do high fat, here are some healthy foods to help support this:

Starchy vegetables

Avocado and the oil

EXTRA virgin olive oil

Flaxseed and other nuts

coconut

sardines

nut butters

full fat yogurt

dark cocao

High fat is good for those who like to fast or workout, or if you are having a hard time with binging because of the flavors. Avoid foods that have sugar loaded into them. You can make your own high fat options at home in your kitchen , ranging from prepping and roasting starchy veggies with olive oil to spinning your own almond butter.

If you prefer to not prioritize protein, as i do, you will loose muscle mass. Muscle mass weighs more therefore it has more calories. When you loose muscle mass your metabolism slows down because it isn’t burning as many calories to keep up with it. You won’t feel full and at some point will develop an intolerance to any protein rich foods. You will start to dislike the taste of meat and your body will have a hard time producing the enzymes needed to break down other foods, so you will become constipated. When you do eat protein, despite the bad reactions, you will feel fuller.

I hope my post could help you! Please stay safe and stay healthy! ❤️❤️🙂

[bloodtiesstilllives]

Strange Encounters #4

Today Henry goes somewhere that is completely out of his comfort zone.

And he is going to be shown around by none other than...Spike

Let's set the stage. Spike is just walking aro8nd. There hasn't been an event for a little while and he doesn't feel like dealing with the "Scooby Gang". If they need him, they'll find him.

Henry appears in a portal a few yards in front of him. This would be cause for alarm under normal circumstances, but this is Sunnydale. What's a gorgeous man coming out of a portal? More than likely big trouble, but what's trouble, this is Sunnydale.

Henry turns around to get his bearings and sees Spike. They look at each other, unmoving for the moment.

Spike speaks first. He points toward where the portal just disappeared and asks the stranger, "You lost?"

He let's the stranger know that if he is here to cause trouble, it's not going to end well. Henry straightens up and says that he isn't here to cause any trouble. This makes Spike scoff.

Henry sniffs the air and asks Spike what he is. Spike says , "I'm a vampire, mate."

Henry has a slightly amused, slightly confused face on. He says he is also a vampire, just from another dimension. He notices Spike tensing and calmly states that he will only be there for one week.

Spike asks, "So what are you, a tourist?"

Henry replies, "Something like that. Be careful what you wish for."

This makes Spike smile. He mentions that Henry smell weird too and so proceeds to check him by putting his Vamp face on. Henry returns the favor.

They both marvel at the difference in their vampirism. They take the time to inspect the differences. Spike calls Henry lucky and states that it must be easy to hide from he world's slayers.

Henry asks "Slayers?" And Spike gives a cursory explanation about what Slayers are in a voice that conveys "Duh".

Henry smiles and says that there are no "Slayers" in his world. He goes into the way vampires operate in his world.

When it's all said and done Spike says that it must be lonely and he has to take a cigarette break to digest what he just heard.

He doesn't ask about Henry's full name or age or anything like that. He is just glad for the company. Henry asks about the food situation. Spike tells him he has bagged stuff at his crypt. Henry let's him know he needs to take it fresh from the human.

Spike let's him know that if there is a rash of bodies showing up the towns Slayer would come around and jam a stake right up both their asses.

Henry acknowledges that it sounded unpleasant, but he would have no need to kill. He can take what he needs and his bite Mark's disappear as long as the human is still alive.

Spike calls bullshit on this and so he takes Henry out of Sunnydale for food. For observational purposes. Either this otherworldly vampire is a liar, in which case Spike would stop a line to Buffy and be done with it, or he is telling the truth and Spike would be ultra jealous.

The bastard told the truth. Hypnotised the prey, drank from them, and sent them on their way alive and unmarred. Well damn.

Henry is gracious about the whole crypt thing. They spend the week going around. Spike shows him here and their and Henry feeds easily enough. They speak about their favorite fashion era's. Spike even told Henry about his whole Billy Idol phase, explaining how he dressed in the 80s.

Henry tell Spike who he is and this shocks Spike because of how old Henry is.

Henry was really good company. Very intelligent and even though he was a man of high standing, he never talked down to Spike or made him feel less than. It was a good change of pace. And they were not bothered by anyone. Spike was sad to see him go. It was a pretty quick goodbye.

Once Henry left, things went back to normal, but at least Spike knew he had a good friend somewhere out in another dimension.

[norbezjones]

Inktober & OC-tober: October 2nd, 2024 (Romance The Backrooms)

Hey everyone!

So, this year, I have decided to participate in Inktober’s, well, Inktober event, and OC-tober, the latter specifically with @icannotreadcursive / @thepromptfoundry ‘s prompt list.  Basically, how it works is that I will do a drawing & a story adhering to the prompts.

For the first half of the month, I will be doing these for the characters of my story Romance The Backrooms, a liminal space otome with 5 main love interests.  For the second half of the month, I will be doing them for the characters of my IF Comp game Yancy At The End Of The World!, mainly to promote Yancy!’s Kickstarter, which launches at the beginning of November.

Today’s Prompts: Going out on the town & Discover

Characters: Carla

Other Info: This is Part 2 of what will be a series of stories dealing with Carla trying to come to terms with her grandmother’s death.  Please know that this is primarily what the story is about and treat accordingly.

Part 1: Tumblr link, Pillowfort link

_________

The town was a ten-minute walk away from the cottage.  Even though Carla knew that from her walk in the other day, it was still somewhat surprising to experience it.  One moment, she was isolated and surrounded by woods, and the next, she was back in civilization.

Or at least, if not civilization, a tiny town in the middle of nowhere.  Once she reached it, Carla was able to get data on her phone, and she looked up where food could be found nearby.  In the end, she settled on a diner called “Earl’s Eatery”.

“Hey there!  I haven’t seen you before.  Did you rent the cottage?” was how her waitress greeted her.

“Um, yeah,” Carla replied shyly.

The people who rent the cottage, they’re always creative types, looking for their muse in the woods.” the waitress told her, giving her a menu.  “You searching for your muse too, hun?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Carla said, an awkward laugh escaping her mouth.  She opened the menu, glancing at its contents.

“Ooo, intriguing!” the waitress said with a grin.  “What brings you here, then?”

Not wanting to make the mood awkward by sharing why she was truly at the cottage, Carla simply laughed and said, “It’s a secret, sorry!”

The waitress chuckled.  “I like you, hun.  You got a good spark in you.  Anyway, you want something to drink?”

“Yeah.  And I think I know what I want to eat, too” Carla told her.

And so, Carla soon had a large “Ultra Cheeze X-treme” omelet in front of her (she was pretty curious to try it once she saw it on the menu, and had to discover its flavor for herself), along with a side of hash browns and the smallest slices of buttered toast she had ever seen.  “Enjoy!  Let me know if you need anything,” the waitress said as she placed the plate on the table.  Then, she was gone.

Carla dug into her meal.  No longer distracted, her mind went back to her quest, the real reason she was here: figuring out her grief.

Would that even be possible within the timeframe she had?  Was two weeks enough to process such a terrible loss?  Just thinking about trying to take on that pain made Carla’s heart feel heavy, and she sniffled, wiping a tear from her eye.

I wish Grandma was here; she’d know what to say, Carla thought as she dug into her food.  But she’s not, and she never will be. . .

But what if she was here? her mind insisted.  What would she say?

Carla thought for a minute, chewing her food thoughtfully.  She’d say that even though she’s gone, she lived a good life, and gave what she could to the people she cared about, Carla realized.  And in a way, the things you give to others helps you live on.

Fuck that.  I’d trade that all way just to be with her again, her mind retorted.  Even for a minute.

Carla held in her tears and finished her food.  She paid the check, left a hefty tip, and left the diner.

[derangedanomaly]

as promised, SOMETHING with ace (filtered for fluffiness). i’m not ultra confident in my dialogue for ace but yknow. i tried! idk it this counts as angsty enough but it’s still kind of comfort, hope this works as a nice gift! - yugioh anon

CW: self hatred, reassurance, ace style cheering you up, implications depression (lack of eating, empty feelings, poor hygiene), nightmare being an ass.

Several days have passed since you’ve ventured out of your room. Likely more have passed since you’ve had a proper wash. If you touch your hair, it feels tangled up to no end. Not that it matters to you. You’ve shut yourself off, made yourself quiet, so you don’t have to experience the ridicule that would surely follow your self-destructive behavior. That empty feeling stirred in your gut weeks ago and gradually sapped any energy you had away, like that of a mosquito sucking blood. No sound has come from you since you’ve laid in your bed aside from the occasional rustling of bedsheets when you roll. Your stomach growls. Ah, you’ve not eaten for a few days. Opening your eyes and looking around makes you dizzy, sick to whatever is left in your stomach. Being awake enough to feel the gunk that has coated your teeth only makes it worse. You wipe the crust from your series of naps, finally deciding to move. Minor crack sounds occur once you stretch your body a bit. Do you really want to get up to deal with all of this mess? Not even referring to your wreck of a room. No. You didn’t.

As you go to lay back down, a singular knock sounds from the door. After a few good seconds, another. And another.

“Hello? Are you in there? Nightmare needs to speak with you.”

Ugh. You audibly groan in response, gaining an understanding chuckle in return. Neither of you liked dealing with him.

“I know, mutual feeling. You do have to though. I’m not getting yelled at because I didn’t ‘try hard enough’ to get you to come down.”

“… I’ll take too long. He’ll get mad just looking at me.”

He pauses, likely confused by what you mean. He hesitates before asking but eventually requests, “May I come in?”

A few moments pass. Do you want him to see you like this? No, that’s utterly embarrassing. But it’d hurt even more to have Nightmare scold him when he’s done nothing wrong. You let out an acknowledging hum in response. The door creaks open. The shocked gasp or disgusted yelp isn’t what you get. Ace is silent as he takes in you and your surroundings. He doesn’t seem irritated with you, though. Ace seems like he’s sympathizing.

“Can you do something for me?”

“Hm..?”

“Go get in the bath or shower, whichever feels more comfortable, and wash up. I’ll take care of the rest.” He requests, picking up dirty clothing and setting them in a basket before you have any say. Guilt makes up your entire being at this point. He seems to notice, shaking his head. “Look, I get it. I.. I’ve experienced this before. It’s not a good feeling. You don’t owe me and I’m not angry. We can talk about it more once you’re done.”

Shakily, you nod. You don’t want to end up crying in front of him. As you head to your bathroom, you hear him picking up several spare cups. Only a short while passes as you wash up with body wash and shampoo. The warm water and soap coating your skin is beyond an incredible sensation. Once you get out, you brush your teeth. Pain aches in your mouth for a bit as you brush a bit too hard attempting to get more yellow off, but you end up stopping after three or four minutes. You take a towel and wrap it around you as you step out. Ace seems to have left your room for the time being, but it’s far cleaner than before. Messy clothes lay in the basket and your desk is cleaned.

You choose some comfortable sweatpants and a star-themed sweater. A few minutes pass and Ace knocks again.

“You alright in there? Nightmare seems to be in a good mood right now. He’s cooking with Chaos, so I brought you up some food. Is it alright if I come in?” He asks, a soft cadence to his voice. Comforting doesn’t begin to describe it.

“I’d like that. Thank you, Ace.”

He walks in with a plate of bacon, an omelette with veggies, a banana on the side, and a cup of juice. Chaos seems to be experimenting with breakfast foods. The smell makes your stomach ache. He sets it on the desk and grabs the remote for the television. Standing beside your bed, he turns on what he knows to be your comfort show. The lights are mesmerizing as you sit down with your food. You turn to him, a weak smile on your face.

“We can sit here and watch together. I’m positive Nightmare won’t notice if he’s sat there with Chaos. We can talk about what you’ve been feeling or we can just focus on the show. I’m here for you, okay?”

YAYAYAYAYA! THIS IS AWESOME! You've captured filtered Ace perfectly!

Yet another masterpiece! ^^

[underforeversgrace]

Welcome to Intro to Ghosts

Title: Welcome to Intro to Ghosts

Words: 2606

Chapter 1 of ?

Summary: Sure, turning sixteen was supposed to be a big year regardless, but this was a little beyond what Danny had expected when he'd both been told he was now king and then asked to be a teacher for the Intro to Ghosts class while also being a junior in high school. Now he has to juggle a secret identity, being a superhero, doing centuries worth of old paperwork Pariah didn't do, his own schoolwork, AND his students/classmates schoolwork! This'll be fun. Or catastrophic. Hopefully fun.

AO3

Danny was immensely grateful for ghost powers as he triggered his intangibility, letting the spit and drink mixture fall from him, after a cursory glance around to ensure no one was studying them too much at the table they had claimed outside the Nasty Burger. Tucker, the one who assaulted Danny with the gross mixture, was still laughing so hard that he held a hand to his chest, Tucker’s amusement currently greater than his need to breathe.

“You cannot be serious.” Sam said, ultra-recyclo vegetarian compliant burger halfway to her mouth.

“Okay, it isn’t that outrageous, guys!” Danny whined, balling up a napkin and throwing it at Tucker’s face. Hm, turns out fighting for your life on a weekly basis gave you pretty good aim!

“That… that was a good one, dude,” Tucker finally said, wiping tears off his face.

“I’m serious!” Danny grumbled, crossing his arms across his chest, a playful grin on his face showing he wasn’t truly upset.

“Danny. Do you really expect us to believe Ishiyama and Lancer offered you a job?” Sam said, finally remembering her food as she took a bite.

“Technically, they wanted me twice.” Danny informed, smirking.

“Excuse me?” The other two said simultaneously.

“They told me they originally wanted Phantom to do it but, as they said, ‘due to the hazard to his life posed by ghost hunters, it would be unwise to have Phantom at the school at set hours everyday.’ So they settled on me, good ole Danny Fenton. All the knowledge of the Fentons, none of the ghost hunting propensity.”

“That and no one knows how to find the elusive, mysterious Phantom long enough to offer him the job in the first place, I’m sure.” Sam said with an eye roll.

“Is this irony? This feels like an example of irony.” Tucker added.

“Do I look like Lancer, dude? Leave the literary device analysis or whatever to him.”

“Well, you don’t look like Lancer. But apparently you do look like a teacher.” Tucker retorted.

Danny laughed. “I still can’t believe it. Apparently, the school board thinks an Intro to Ghosts class is exactly the newest elective to offer when school starts back next month.”

“Not gonna lie to ya, bro, when you told us you’d gotten called in by those two, I thought they’d finally realized how many detentions you’d never actually served.”

“So, are you gonna do it?” Sam asked.

“The options are me, my parents, or the Guys in White.” Danny replied.

“So are you going to be by going by Danny, Mr. Fenton, or King Phantom? And do we have to call you that?” Tucker asked, a fake thoughtful look on his face as he propped his chin in his hand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few weeks passed by in a hurried marathon for Danny as preparations were made, for both of his newly found duties. Sometimes he questioned if becoming a teacher was really a good idea - especially since he was the same age as his peers but doubly especially since he had now spent the last month of summer break doing teacher homework. Being a teacher had at least been voluntary, unlike the whole King thing!

But whenever he questioned if he’d made the right choice, his parents would make another tool to murder him with or the GIW would cause millions of dollars in property damage chasing a blob ghost, and he’d known the other options were, uh, not good to the point of being non viable.

Not that that had been the only training involving far too much paperwork he’d had to deal with this summer. Admittedly, the whole teacher thing made sense to have paperwork. But why did being the King of All Ghosts require so much paperwork? At least he hadn’t had to learn a new language, though. All paperwork was filled out in ghost speak - a language called Exspirate, which was fairly similar to Esperanto. Exspirate is a language that ghosts just know upon formation, both how to read and write. But Danny had had the joy of learning that different dialects were also a thing depending on where in the Zone the ghost formed and they were not always exactly the same!

So, yeah, between preparing the syllabus and material for his class and getting several centuries worth of paperwork caught up, Danny never wanted to read anything ever again.

It hadn’t been all bad, at least. His recent coronation had given him some authority over the other ghosts, who either respected him for his abilities or feared him for his power. He’d have to work on the whole ‘fearing him’ thing but regardless, both forms kept most ghosts off his turf. Invading another ghost’s haunt was a bad enough idea, but invading the haunt of the King and risking that which his Obsession demanded him to protect? That was a good way to find out what lay beyond the Veil.

Danny fidgeted with his backpack as he glanced at the clock again. Today was the day - first day of class. Lancer had decided to omit Danny’s name from the schedule listings that were being handed out today - leaving it with a simple TBA. Danny was quite grateful Lancer had thought of that - Danny’s Intro to Ghosts class was only offered during the last period of the day and Danny was anxious enough without having to field questions from his peers for the beginning of the day.

He’d been asked to show up early, to meet with Ishiyama and Lancer, and only them, before the day began. Apparently, even the other teachers hadn’t been informed of Danny’s new position. Danny had originally thought this was also to help protect him before the class started, but the glances Ishiyama and Lancer had given each other had given him reason to doubt. Were they… pulling a prank? Weird, teachers were people too. Wait, Danny was a teacher now! Of course teachers were people, he was a people! …mostly.

Drawing a large breath, Danny finally pushed open the front doors of the school, making his way towards the principal’s office. Despite being a junior now and having gone through these doors for two years at this point, something about crossing the threshold today felt different. He arrived at the office, where the door was open and he could hear the two’s voices in the room.

“Uh, hi?” Danny said, knocking on the door and peeking his head in.

“Glad to see your streak for being on time has continued since the end of last year, Daniel.” Lancer said, a friendly smile on his face.

Danny flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Heh, yeah.”

“Are you ready for today, Danny?” Ishiyama asked from her place behind her desk, fingers steepled together as she studied him.

The halfa nodded. “Yeah. Kinda nervous, though.”

“That’s perfectly normal,” Mr. Lancer reassured him. “And I will be right next door to you if you need me, alright?”

“I know the situation may not be normal, but being nervous on the first day of anything is very normal.” Ishiyama agreed.

“Here’s your class schedule for the year and the class roster.” Lancer said, handing two pieces of paper over to Danny. Danny scanned over both pages quickly. Pretty standard schedule - all the basics like math, science, English, and history were there. The only unusual thing about his schedule was the ‘free period’ directly before his last class of the day - Intro to Ghosts, administered by TBA. Danny wasn’t even going to ask how his credits worked like this - the Ghost class was still counting as one of his elective credits, despite him being the teacher of it. The free period was what the teachers called a planning period, he’d learned. Yet more time for more paperwork and grading.

“Is all your material ready?” Lancer asked.

Pulling his backpack from his shoulders and sitting it in an empty seat, Danny nodded, unzipping the light purple backpack that somehow had survived two years of ghost hunting and looked fine to survive two more. He pulled a binder out, handing it over to Lancer for review. Since there wasn’t exactly any textbooks on ghosts that weren’t either written by total quacks or required high level understandings of physics, cellular biology, chemistry, and theoretical plasma, Danny had had to make his own.

“It gives a pretty good look over of various things without going in to deeply to any one topic,” Danny began as Lancer flicked open the binder. “There’s sections on ghost culture and law, ghost psychology, the uses and behaviors of various types of ectoplasm, and history. History is the longest section. And I’ve cited my sources!” Danny was actually quite proud of how much work he’d done, interviewing various friendly and sometimes-friendly-sometimes-murderous ghosts to get as much information as possible, including consulting Ancients like Clockwork and Pandora. Besides, he’d already been learning law, culture, and history while he’d been preparing to be king, so he’d already had a head start. “Oh, did you hear back about bringing in guest speakers?”

Lancer’s eyes were still scanning through the binder when he replied. “The board has approved it, if the permission slips we send home today get signed. And your parents were fine with these expeditions into the Ghost Zone for you to get these…sources?”

“Absolutely, they know they’ve taught me enough to defend myself!” Danny lied enthusiastically. His parents didn’t even know he had this job, much less gone into the Zone. “And I’ll make sure the slips go out today,” he added, finally looking through the roster. The course was only available to juniors and seniors and had a twenty person cap, so he recognized most of the names. Sam and Tucker were there, of course, though all three had been warned to make sure they behaved and the other two would be removed from the course if they became a distraction. Valerie was there, too. Danny made a mental note to avoid mentioning anything that could be exploited as a weakness. Dash, Paulina, Starr. No Kwan, surprisingly. Mikey and four other juniors. Six seniors that sounded familiar to Danny, but he couldn’t place a face to the names.

“This looks good, Mr. Fenton.” Lancer said, flicking through the last few pages in the binder.

“Thanks! Jazz proofread it already, so the grammar and spelling and stuff is fine.”

Lancer nodded. “We’ll get copies made in time for your class this afternoon. In the meantime, class will be starting soon.”

A glance at the clock confirmed Lancer’s statement. Despite being here over an hour early, it was now only five minutes before the first bell. “So we’re really doing this, huh?” 

“Yes, Danny. Your first day as a teacher begins today. Gives a new meaning to the term student teacher, right? Huh? Huh?” Ishiyama said, poking her elbow into Lancer’s side.

Yeah, seeing his teachers be human was really, really weird.

Danny grinned, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, heading out the door.

As soon as he was out of sight of the principal’s office, he pulled his phone from his pocket. Sure, it was still technically before school and he was a teacher now too, but the instinct to conceal his phone from Lancer was too deeply ingrained at this point. Unlocking the phone, he clicked on a calculator app. Technically, it did have the functions of a calculator. Though that wasn’t what he used it for, keying in a long string of numbers. Sure, maybe it was overkill to have all three of their birthdays be his code, but he took the whole secret identity thing seriously! …even if maybe he should never have introduced himself as Danny Phantom.

He clicked the percent twice in quick succession once he finished the string of numbers and the calculator face moved away, showing the chat conversations he had going.

One conversation had a new message - non urgent so as to not actually send notifications to their phones - and Danny brought it up. It was the one he’d been going for anyway.

A profile picture of a poorly drawn, cartoon-y green blob ghost took up the screen, the words PhanPhuckingTastic loading… running across the bottom.

PhanPhuckingTastic loaded.

Missed messages - 

EatVeggiesNotFaces: I swear to Clockwork I am going to strangle Dash if he does not shut up.

TooFineTechie: kick his ass babe

EatVeggiesNotFaces: Not your babe.

Danny snorted as he read the messages,

TotallyNormalKid has rejoined the chat.

TotallyNormalKid: sup

EatVeggiesNotFaces typing…

TooFineTechie typing…

EatVeggiesNotFaces: Did you get fired yet?

TooFineTechie: i dont have the homework

TotallyNormalKid: you guys aren’t funny, you know that right?

TooFineTechie: ding dong ur wrong

EatVeggiesNotFaces: We’re hilarious.

TotallyNormalKid: be nice, I can fail you!

EatVeggiesNotFaces: And we can ‘forget’ and ‘accidentally’ leave you in the Thermos for three hours next time Jazz catches you.

TotallyNormalKid: that’s blackmail

TotallyNormalKid: you both get A’s!

TooFineTechie: boo-yah!

TooFineTechie: anyway wat schedules u 2 got?

TooFineTechie: Photo Attachment

Danny and Sam both sent the pictures of their schedules as well. Of course, they all had Intro to Ghosts together. All three were together in English and history, but those were the only two all three shared. Sam and Tucker had taken different electives - Danny’s second elective was technically his planning period - and Sam was in a higher level math class than them. Danny and Tucker had math at the same time but with different teachers. Third period English they all had together, but the first two classes of the day, all three were separate.

At least all of them had lockers together - not directly beside each other, but only a few apart.

TooFineTechie: well thats some bullshit

TooFine Techie: lmao danno good luck not failing math

TooFineTechie: cant copy of me or Sam!

TotallyNormalKid: rude

TotallyNormalKid: I don’t need your notes!

TotallyNormalKid: King, fam.

TotallyNormalKid: no ghost attacks

TotallyNormalKid: so no skipped classes!!

TotallyNormalKid: hoe

TooFineTechie: u love me tho

EatVeggiesNotFaces: Behave, children.

EatVeggiesNotFaces: Tucker, stop antagonizing the superhero/teacher.

EatVeggiesNotFaces: Danny, stop being a little bitch.

Danny laughed as he finally arrived at his first class, sliding into a seat towards the back, as close to the door as possible. This was a room he’d never been in before, so he immediately started scanning the room for points of entry and hiding spots. Ghosts could phase, sure, but for some inexplicable reason, most of his rogues still preferred to come in through windows and doors intangibly. And, sure, he should be safe from attacks now, but old habits died hard, especially ones caused by recurrent threats to life and limb (even if he wasn’t exactly alive and could reattach limbs.) He closed out the app, sliding his phone into the external pocket of his backpack, where it bumped against the Thermos he kept inside.

Jazz called him paranoid. Danny said he was just being realistic.

Though, she may have a point he mused as he pulled paper and pencil from his bag. The ghost attacks had rapidly dropped once Pariah fell through the Veil, too Faded from defeat and sleep to maintain his form any longer. Apparently, Danny being the next King was just common knowledge in the Realms and no one bothered to mention it to him. No one had anticipated Pariah would Fade, he’d survived centuries in there already. The last three months of the previous school year, Danny’s attendance and grades had rapidly improved. And that was while he had just been Prince, before he’d accepted the power of Crown and Ring.

Maybe he could stop being always wary, always on edge. About ghosts, anyway. Humans still scared him.

[terabyteturtle]

Fighter #06 - Kirby

- Little Mac introduced him to Naruto and now he's a big fan of it. His favorite character is Kakashi Hatake.

- Kirby loves to cosplay! He often makes cosplays of the other fighters. It's not in a creepy way, it's just that he admires them and their unique abilities. Getting a wig is easy enough, since all he has to do is inhale them, but the clothes can be difficult because Kirby's body is so round. Cosplay Pikachu often helps him out and gives him tips.

- He likes painting rocks in his free time. To help earn funds for the mansion, he'll go back to Dreamland and sell them to the locals.

- He's a master of croquet, but somehow terrible at golf. If that wasn't bad enough, he only gets worse when playing Wii Golf.

- Cloud and Link are his idols. He'll hang out with them every chance he gets.

- Kirby's Ultra Sword is the biggest sword in Smash. Unfortunately, this has caused Sephiroth to hate him.

- Kirby is always the first fighter to greet new additions to the roster. No matter who they are or where they came from, he's always super excited to meet them.

- Despite his spherical stature, he's an amazing ballerina. He has a tutu that's pink, just like him.

- Kirby is one of the backup dancers for the Squid Sisters.

- He's a firm believer in giving second chances. He doesn't give a flying flea that the villains tried to kill him, everyone deserves a fresh start in his eyes.

- He loves to read fantasy novels. In his room, there's a giant bookshelf filled with tales about fairies, dragons, unicorns, and other mythological creatures. Speaking of which, he loves reading about Greek and Norse mythology. He finds it really interesting.

- Kirby can inflate anything in three seconds. If the Smash Bros are at the beach and the beach ball is going flat, he can refill it in no time. That being said, if the beach balls are forgotten, Kirby will NOT allow anyone to use him instead. That's just disrespectful.

- Terry introduced him to Earth music and now he can't stop listening to it. He loves k-pop and 80s music the most. His playlist is forty hours long and it keeps growing longer. Kirby wants to expand his horizons as much as possible, so he'll gladly take song recommendations, no matter what genre it is. In fact, that's how he figured out that he was a big Mastodon fan.

- He's really good at Just Dance.

- Kirby is a sweetheart, but his monstrous appetite can be really tough to deal with. Combined with the appetites of Pac-Man, Yoshi, Donkey Kong, Wario, King K. Rool, and King Dedede, it's a complete nightmare for whoever's making food that day. These devious fighters need to have at least three servings for breakfast, lunch, AND dinner.

- One time, the roster held a potluck to celebrate the fact that they were all still alive, and the hungry seven were allowed to have four servings instead of their usual three, which was a big mistake. The only thing left over was a single piece of chicken, and the following day, the seven of them fought over who would get to eat it. First, they argued with each other, then it became an all-out brawl. Of course, Kirby ended up winning. To commemorate his victory, he made himself a trophy out of cardboard, gold star stickers, and dried macaroni that he keeps in a display case in his room.

- He really wants to join in on the Mario Kart races, but keeps getting rejected because Warp Stars are too overpowered, apparently.

- Kazuya really hates him, but poor Kirby doesn't understand why. After Kazuya tried to kill him, Kirby picked some purple flowers and gave them to him as a peace offering. The grumpy devil man thought they were poisonous and crushed them underfoot. Poor Kirby was heartbroken, but he understood that Kazuya didn't have much plant knowledge. He seemed to hate him even more after Kirby showed him his copy ability. Legend has it that Kirby is still trying to win him over to this day.

- His favorite dessert is strawberry cheesecake and you can't convince me otherwise.

- Ever since Ken told Kirby about going to Disneyland with his family, it's become Kirby's dream vacation. He's currently saving up for a trip with the entire roster. His main goal is to meet Mickey Mouse.

- Over the winter, Kirby taught Pichu how to ice skate. Sephiroth was proud to see his son learning new things.

- Kirby and Samus enjoy eating spicy stuff together. Though he usually ends up with fire breath, he always has a good time.

- He brews the best tea in the world. If a fighter is feeling sick, he has tons of herbal tea recipes to help with whatever ailment they have.

- When it's rainy outside, he and the Pokemon will go out and jump in puddles.

- He has the biggest sweet tooth, but can't stand orange or lime sherbet. He doesn't know what it is, there's just something about it that he doesn't like.

- He loves scavenger hunts! During holidays, he always sets up themed scavenger hunts for the fighters to enjoy.

- He's one of the only fighters who have seen Meta Knight without his mask (the other is King Dedede). Being the kind friend he is, Kirby's never told anyone what he looks like.

- Kirby's usually opposed to stealing, but once in a while, he just likes taking Mario's hat. It's super comfortable, and it gives him an excuse to hang out with Cappy more.

- He and Jigglypuff are two peas in a pod. They're almost always together. 

- When Jigglypuff has a bad fur day, Kirby is there in a flash with two combs and some hairspray. He doesn't really know what he's doing, but he tries his best to help her out.

- Kirby, Jigglypuff, and Little Mac have weekly binge-watching sessions. It all started when Little Mac had Kirby watch every episode of Naruto with him. After they finished, Jigglypuff later joined them and they ended up watching the entirety of Sailor Moon. Now, the three of them plan on tackling One Piece.

- He plays co-op games with Fox all the time.

- Link once took Kirby to Hyrule and introduced him to the Gerudo. Long story short, they're the only two voe allowed to enter Gerudo Town.

- Kirby is the type to snack on ice chips.

- This pink ball of destruction is incapable of getting brain freeze.

- His favorite Song from the Smash soundtrack is Green Greens from Melee. He loves Green Greens as it is, but this version makes him feel like he's on a quest.

Note: Next week, there will be not one, not two, but three sets of headcanons for your viewing pleasure. Stay tuned for the mercenary space fox, everyone's favorite supercharged rodent, and the lean, green fighting machine.

[mahi-does-some-art]

That's just making me imagine Nicco off handedly mentioning a rival Mafia that started a laundering front in town that may become a problem, and Ildio deciding to help by investing via getting hired by said front

That'd actually be so funny?

Maybe it's less of an off-handed mention and they really are just trying to keep tabs on whoever is running this alleged front restaurant. I don't think he would be so reckless as to do something like that on any whim, it has to be planned. Ildio goes and fully expects to be knee-deep in stuff and have to deal with the people he expects crime fronts to hire for his dirty work + kicking their sorry asses.

But then it's just this random ass kid. Who's pretty much running the restaurant by himself, oblivious (only for a while) of the place being a front who welcomes him into staff with open arms.

And also his eldest brother is there too which makes this 1000% more suspicious but turns out he's just as lost as Ildio is.

Mahiru keeps making food off the clock for Ildio after he noticed his appetite and he's kinda won him over because goddamn is his cooking good.

(I don't think im gonna have any ultra tasty drugs being put in the food there so that's fine but because the place is a front and Germaine is by no means a broke man, the ingredients he buys for the restaurant are good quality and he just keeps that going once Mahiru makes the place profitable. The Count doesn't really lose anything for spending that extra money. So the food there is really good.)

[krirebr]

More Than This 3

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x f!reader, Steve Rogers & f!reader

Word Count: ~5.8k

Summary: Arranged marriages have always been used to solidify business deals among the ultra-wealthy. Your stepfather wants to be in business with Harlan Thrombey, so now it's your turn.

Warnings: Heavy angst, age difference, adult themes, institutional sexism, multiple references to vomit (but nothing graphic, I don't think), attempted sex that makes everyone sad - dubcon on both sides, explicit language, the slooowest burn - Warnings will be added as needed for subsequent parts. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

A/N: Alright friends, here we go! Now we're really in it.

A gigantic thank you, as always, to @paperweight91 for reading so much of this and talking it all through with me, especially the last section, which I've been anxious about since I originally conceived of it ages ago. You're the best, Chelsea!

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. And if you need to come scream at me, that's ok too!

As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You heard Ransom get up in the early hours of the morning and stumble into the bathroom to retch. You were glad he didn’t choke on his vomit, you guessed. You were still on the couch with the TV turned down low. You wondered if he’d come out and see what you were doing, but he just stumbled back to the bed when he was done. 

You didn’t hear him again for several more hours. In that time, you mostly watched TV, dozed a little, fucked around on your phone. Time passed slowly, but it still passed. Soon, the sun was coming up. You were moving across the country today. Your new life was starting whether you wanted it or not.

A few hours later you heard the beginnings of movement in the bedroom. You called down to room service and ordered two carafes of coffee, along with a few different breakfast options, ranging from light to extremely greasy. You didn’t know what his hangovers were like, what they required. But you knew that an especially moody Ransom wouldn’t do you any good. So, a peace offering of a sort. 

The food arrived before he’d shown his face. As you looked at the cart, you thought that while you were trying to start things as well as you could for your own good, it didn’t erase everything he’d done the day before, how he’d treated you. So you made no effort to be quiet as you laid out the food and got the coffee ready. You may have banged the metal covers together as noisily as you could. 

“What the fuck?” Ransom grumbled as he came stumbling out of the bedroom in just his boxer briefs. “Why is there noise?”

“Coffee,” you said, handing him the mug you’d filled. “I didn’t know how you take it.”

He took a sip and just grunted at you and then turned around and went back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

You busied yourself by getting your own coffee and munching on some toast. You still had no appetite but figured you should probably eat something. 

A few minutes later, he came back out with a now empty mug. He stopped and stared at you. “Am I still drunk or are you still wearing your wedding dress?”

You tried not to let your embarrassment show. “I couldn’t get it off by myself, so…” you trailed off and shrugged. 

He looked at you for another moment then nodded once. “Give me a minute,” he said, as he poured himself another cup. He drank it quickly, then briefly held his head in his hands. When he looked back up, he took a deep breath, then mumbled “OK.” He came up behind you and lightly touched your dress. “Is there a trick to it?” he asked as he ran a finger down the seam. 

“It’s a long line of hook-and-eyes, you know?”

He hummed and then started at the top. As he worked, he grumbled to himself, which made you feel a little better about not being able to get it off. You’d never stop being surprised by how gentle his hands were. It seemed to be in complete opposition to every other part of him. When he was about halfway down, his knuckles lightly grazed the bare skin of your back and a shudder ran through your whole body. “Sorry,” he said, softly. You just shook your head and didn’t say anything.

When he was done, he quickly took a step back. You held your dress to you, trying to preserve your modesty, even though you knew how silly that was. You just weren’t ready for him to see you, although you doubted that that mattered. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He nodded again, then “You mind if I take the first shower?”

You shook your head and he disappeared into the ensuite. 

About an hour and a half later, you sat with him in the back of a town car, on your way to the private airfield where one of his family’s planes awaited you. Neither of you said anything. Ransom was staring at something on his phone, while you put all your energy into trying not to have a panic attack. You had no idea what was waiting for you in Boston. You weren’t ready for this. You couldn’t do it.

As the car pulled up to the hangar, you were beyond relieved to see Steve already waiting there, Lola’s travel crate at his feet. The moment the car was parked and turned off, you lept out, not waiting for anyone to open the door for you. You bent down in front of Lola’s crate first and carefully stuck your fingers through the door. “Hi, baby, I missed you.” She kissed your fingers and then whined to be let out. “Not yet, honey,” you said softly. “You have to wait til we’re on the plane.”

You stood up and faced Steve, who was looking you over carefully. “How are you doing?” he asked seriously.

You shrugged and sighed. “Freaking out a little, I guess, but it’ll be fine.”

“And if it isn’t, you’ll call me,” he said, voice firm. “I don’t care where you are or what time it is, you call me. Ok?” You nodded. He opened his mouth to say more, but then the call of your name came from over your shoulder.

You turned to see Ransom standing between you and the jet. Your heart dropped. No, not yet. You needed more time. You needed to be able to actually say goodbye. You couldn’t– “I’ll be on the plane,” he said, voice still scratchy and tired, sunglasses firmly on, despite the overcast day. “Take your time.” He turned around and began walking up the stairs. 

You just stared after him for a moment, surprised. When you turned back to Steve, his lips were curled in disgust. But then the expression quickly changed to something much sadder. “I should have done more,” he said, “gotten you out of here, sent you away or something. I can’t–”

“Steve.” you interrupted. “Please stop. It’s no use now.” You couldn’t listen to any more of this. It had always been inevitable; it’d always been what you were for. Imagining anything else was useless. 

Neither of you said anything for a moment, then he looked around and asked, “Are Dad and Lydia on their way?” 

You tried to keep any hurt out of your expression when you said, “No, something important came up for Joseph and you know Mom has a hard time going anywhere by herself.” You ignored the cracks you heard in your own voice.

Steve’s brow furrowed in confusion and upset. “I would have picked her up,” he said. “Hell, I’ll go get her right now.” 

“I know,” you said sadly. “I told her that, but you know how she is.” You dropped your eyes, not able to look at the anger you knew you’d see on Steve’s face. You were angry too, you were, but mostly now you were just sad. And after thinking about it all night, you honestly weren’t sure how much anger she deserved. She’d been broken for a long time. It’d happened before you’d even known her, probably. It’d been unfair, maybe, to expect her to be strong for you now when she’d never been able to be that before.

Steve said your name and you looked up at him. “You don’t deserve this,” he said firmly. “I know I’ve said it before, but I really need you to understand it. None of this is what you deserve.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you just nodded and muttered, “OK.” 

He sighed and shook his head, then pulled you into his arms. “I’m going to miss you so fucking much,” he said into your hair. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without having you just a few minutes away to annoy whenever I want.”

You huffed a laugh into his shoulder. “I’m going to miss you too,” you said. “So much. Even when you’re being so annoying.” The tears were starting now, you weren’t able to hold them back. You pulled back and briefly got a good enough look at Steve’s face to see that his eyes were wet, too, before he knelt in front of Lola’s crate.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said quietly. “I’m going to miss you too. You take good care of your mom for me.” 

You couldn’t help the little sob that came out of you at that. Fuck. Steve had been stuck to your side since you were six years old. Through absolutely everything. He’d been the one person you could count on for as long as you could remember. And now you were being dragged away from him. 

He stood up and pulled you into another hug. “You’re so strong,” he whispered right in your ear. “Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

When he pulled back, you knew it was time to go, but you didn’t know how to pull yourself away. This all felt so final.

“Let me know when you land,” he said. “And when you get to the house. And just–” he sighed. “Everything. I want to know everything, ok?”

You nodded and tried to brush the tears from your eyes. “Yeah, ok,” you said, knowing you’d send him the exact amount of information that would keep him from worrying too much. You picked up the dog crate. You locked eyes with him one last time. “I love you.”

His voice was thick when he responded, “I love you too. I’m going to sit right here until you’ve taken off, ok? I’ll be right here.”

“You’re a good brother,” you said, as you slowly took your first step backward, toward the jet. 

“Yes. I am,” he said with a smile that was half cocky and half absolutely heartbreaking. 

With one last deep breath and an “OK,” that was mostly to yourself, you forced yourself to turn around and make your way to the stairs up to the jet. Once you were halfway up, you looked over your shoulder. Steve was leaning against his car. He gave you an encouraging smile and a small wave. You nodded and took the last few steps to board the plane.

A flight attendant was standing right there to greet you. “Welcome aboard, Mrs. Drysdale,” she said and you couldn’t help the way your mouth dropped open in shock. Mrs. Drysdale. That’s who you were now. You tried to pull yourself together and let her show you into the main cabin. It was mostly open, with a few plush seats and tables scattered around. Ransom was already in one, fully reclined with a sleep mask pulled over his eyes. He made no indication that he was awake, so you asked the attendant for a mask for yourself and a glass of water. As she went to fulfill your request, you opened Lola’s little cage and picked her up when she came out. She was nervous, shaking with her little tail tucked between her legs. “It’ll be ok,” you said softly, the tears threatening to stream down again. You took a deep breath and settled the both of you into a seat as far from Ransom as you could get in the small private jet. You gave Lola gentle pets until she sat down on your lap. “We’ll just take a nap,” you said, “and it’ll be over before we know it.”

“What the fuck is that?”

You woke with a start and pulled off your sleep mask. “Huh?” You sat up to see Ransom and Lola locked in a staredown. 

“What is that?”

“I told you that I had a dog,” you said, confused. 

“That!” Ransom yelled, pointing at Lola, “is not a dog. That’s a long-haired rat!”

“Hey!” you yelled back, just as Lola started retching. “Oh, baby, no!” You knelt down next to her just as she puked right at Ransom’s feet.

“What the shit?!” he cried out, jumping back. 

“She’s stressed, ok? It’s not like I can explain to her what a plane is or where we’re going!” You grabbed what was left of your water and the napkin the flight attendant had brought with the glass and tried to clean it up. “Shit,” you mumbled to yourself.

“What are you doing?” He stood over you with his hands on his hips.

“I’m cleaning it up so you don’t freak out, ok? It’ll be fine, just give me a minute.”

“Get up.”

“What?”

“You don’t need to do that. The crew probably has a steam cleaner or something. My dad uses this plane. I’m sure they’ve seen worse.” He walked to the front of the cabin and knocked on the divider. When the attendant came, Ransom quietly told her, “The dog got sick. I assume you have something to clean it up.” 

She nodded and quickly came out with a portable steam cleaner and made quick work of Lola’s mess. 

“Thank you,” you told her.

“No problem at all, Mrs. Drysdale,” she smiled and went back to the galley.

“Well, that’s a real mindfuck,” Ransom said as he flopped back into his seat. He glared down at Lola, “She gonna do that again?”

“I don’t know,” you said, gently picking her up and holding her close to try to comfort her.

He pulled his sleep mask down over his eyes. “Great, love being a rat-dog owner.”

“She isn’t your dog,” you said curtly. 

“Whatever. This hangover is still pounding against my skull. Wake me when we land.” 

When you landed in Boston, Ransom led you to where his vintage beamer was parked and you both squeezed into it. The slightly hysterical thought struck you that it wouldn’t be suitable at all once there was a baby to cart around. You pushed that thought away. No use getting ahead of yourself.

Ransom’s house was on the edge of the city, surrounded by more trees than you expected. From the outside, it was mostly glass. Very modern. It felt cold.

He parked the car and grabbed the few bags you both had with you. The rest of your things would be delivered the next day. He showed you inside without much pomp or circumstance, just walked in ahead of you, and left the door open.

The majority of the first floor seemed to be one large, open-plan room. It was sparsely decorated and the pieces that were there seemed to be lifted wholesale from the pages of an upscale furniture catalog. There was nothing of Ransom in this house. Not that you really knew him well enough to say, but you didn’t think there was any information to be gleaned from his living space either. It all felt very empty. It was not what you had expected.

You set Lola down on the hardwood floor and she immediately ran off to explore. You crossed your fingers that she wouldn’t get into anything, not able to forget Ransom’s threat that he’d make you get rid of her if she messed anything up. You glanced over at Ransom to gauge if he was upset that you’d let her roam on her own, but he wasn’t paying any attention, leafing through a pile of mail left on the kitchen island. 

He must have felt you watching him, because without looking up he said, “Bedroom’s upstairs. I’ll bring our things up later.”

You nodded even though he wasn’t looking at you. You grabbed your bag, not wanting to wait for him, and made your way up the staircase in the middle of the living room. Judging by how he’d treated you so far, you figured he planned to tuck you away in some guest room, out of his way except for when he needed you. It wasn’t unheard of in marriages like this, and you would honestly be grateful to have your own space. But as you looked through the rooms upstairs, you found a home gym, a study, and 2 storage rooms. There’d also been a bathroom and a few closets. The only room left had to be his, but you couldn’t imagine he’d want to share that with you. You very gingerly walked in and set your bag at the foot of the bed. You didn’t spend any more time there, afraid that you might be wrong.

When you went back downstairs, he was now rummaging through his fridge. “I put my bag in the bedroom upstairs,” you said to his back. 

He just grunted his assent, then came out with two glass containers in his hands. He plated them both and put one in the microwave. “I have a housekeeper that comes three times a week and usually prepares meals for the whole week. You can give her any food preferences you have.”

You nodded. “I enjoy cooking,” you said, your mother's advice to ‘keep him happy’ floating in your mind. “I can make dinner too, sometimes.”

He nodded and shrugged as he took the plate out of the microwave and placed it in front of you on the island. You took a seat on one of the stools. “If you want,” he said, “but I don’t expect it.” He put his own plate in the microwave.

“Do you have any other staff?” you asked.

He shook his head. “Not for the house, not right now.”

You understood the implication that the staff would grow as your family did. A nanny, a driver, a gardener maybe, if you moved to a house that required one.

It was the lack of a driver that made you nervous. You’d never gone without one at home. You also hadn’t seen a large garage on the property, so you guessed there weren’t any extra cars around. You felt stuck in this house already, shut in like he didn’t want you to leave.

When his food was heated, he sat beside you and you ate together in silence. The food was fine, you were sure, but you couldn’t taste it. Your mind was ahead of you, wondering what the rest of the night held. 

When you were done, Ransom loaded your dishes into the dishwasher and then said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m beat, so I’m just going straight to bed. Feel free to stay up if you want. I’m a heavy sleeper so you won’t wake me when you come in.”

“Oh,” you said, trying to hide your surprise. So he did intend for you to share his room. But apparently, just for sleeping. You were relieved. You were. The little voice in your head that wouldn’t stop whispering that he didn’t want you didn’t count. “I’m still three hours behind, so I might stay up a little longer.” Doing what, you had no idea. You didn’t have any of your things and you weren’t sure what was off-limits here yet. And you were exhausted, still hadn’t recovered from not sleeping the night before. But you just couldn’t deal with the awkwardness of going to bed at the same time as him.

“OK,” he said and then just stood there, looking surprisingly lost. After a couple of endless minutes, he just said, “Goodnight,” and finally went upstairs.

You grabbed your phone out of your handbag, unsurprised to see multiple messages from Steve, checking in on you. You sent him one back, assuring him that the flight had been fine, the drive to the house was fine, you were fine. You collected Lola from where she was curled up on a rug, quickly fed her and let her out, and then brought her and her crate upstairs. After a few minutes of internal debate, you decided to set her up in the gym, fairly certain that even in her crate, Ransom wouldn’t want her in his bedroom. It took a lot of coaxing to get her in. She was so used to sharing your bed. She whined when you closed the little grate and your heart broke. “I’m so sorry,” you whispered. “You’ll get used to it. It’ll be ok.”

You quietly went into the bedroom and Ransom was, indeed, already asleep, spread out on his stomach again, but luckily this time only taking up one side of the bed. He’d left the lamp on the opposite side on for you. You took your sleep clothes out of your bag and brought your toiletries into the ensuite, unpacking only what you’d need for the night. His things were all piled around one of the side-by-side sinks, but the other was clear for you. You went through your nightly routine quickly and then went back into the bedroom and very carefully climbed into bed. He didn’t stir. You turned off the lamp and settled at the edge of the bed. Your exhaustion took you quickly.

When you woke in the morning, Ransom was gone.

Your things were delivered a few hours after you woke. You started by trying to organize the boxes into the least obtrusive pile possible. You hoped that if they were tucked into a corner, he wouldn’t be too annoyed while you took your time going through them. You started with a few of the smaller boxes, unpacking the items into places you hoped they could go.

You took Lola for a walk around the neighborhood. It was sparsely populated, the houses spaced far apart. You didn’t run into any neighbors.

One of the walk-in closets in the bedroom had been cleared out for you, so you spent the afternoon unpacking all your clothes. By the time you were done, it was time for dinner. There was still no sign of Ransom.

You fed Lola and helped yourself to one of the meals in the fridge. You ate alone and after you cleaned up, you dug a book out of one of your boxes and settled on one of the not-very-comfortable couches with Lola to read. You didn’t know if she was allowed on the furniture – you were sure she wasn’t, actually – but Ransom wasn’t here to see it, so you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. 

As you were finishing the second chapter in your book, he walked through the front door. With how the house was set up, he had a clear view of you and Lola from the door. “Hi,” was all he said.

“Hi,” was all you could say back.

He just stood there for a moment and then took off his coat and shoes. “How was your day?” he asked, stiffly, as he came into the living room. 

“Fine,” you said. Then you realized he was actually attempting conversation and added, “My things came, so I got started unpacking.”

He nodded, “That’s good. Did you eat?”

“I did,” you said, hoping that was the right answer. “Can I get you some food?”

“No, I’m fine. I ate at the office.” Well, that answered where he’d been all day – his family’s publishing house.

He cleared his throat. “I’m going to go upstairs to unwind. Will you be heading up soon?” 

Oh. Right. It’d finally come. “Yeah,” you said, your mouth suddenly dry. “I’ll just get Lola settled and then join you.”

He looked down at your dog in your lap like he was noticing her for the first time. But he didn’t say anything, just nodded and walked upstairs.

You let Lola out the back door for just a couple minutes, then took her upstairs. It was even harder to get her into her crate this time, even after you buried treats in her blankets. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cooed, once you finally had her locked in. “I promise it won’t always be this hard and scary. It’ll be ok.”

Ransom was waiting for you in his room, sitting in an armchair by the window. “We should talk,” he said quietly.

“Ok.” You perched on the edge of the bed and did your best to look him in the eye, even as your heart was racing. 

He took a deep breath and leaned forward. “We don’t–” he started, then another breath. “There’s nothing that we have to do tonight. I mean, we can certainly get the first time out of the way, if that’s what you want to do. But it doesn’t have to be now. We have time.”

You wanted to be relieved, but it just felt like delaying the inevitable. “We don’t, actually,” you said shaking your head. “We don’t have that much time. Especially if it takes a while. If there’s going to be an issue getting pregnant, on either side, I think the sooner we know the better. I don’t want to be blindsided by it when we only have a month left.”

“Ok,” he nodded. “That makes sense. Yeah, we can get it over with.”

You were proud of yourself for the way you didn’t wince at his phrasing, but it was a near thing. But was it really fair to be upset or hurt by that when it was how you were feeling too? You wanted to stop delaying it. You were ready to just know how it was going to be, what he would want. So yeah, maybe ‘get it over with’ wasn’t such a bad way to put it. 

He stood up and sighed, looking like he was bracing himself. “I do need to know, have you done this before?”

You swallowed. The question wasn’t unexpected but you weren’t sure how to answer it and didn’t know which answer he was looking for. You decided to be honest and hoped it would be ok. “Yes, I’ve had sex,” you said, quietly.

He let out a long exhale in relief. “Ok,” he said, “ok, that’s good.” 

You stood up, unsure of what to do. You just wanted to be on the other side of it. You suddenly thought of what you’d just told Lola. It wouldn’t always be this hard and scary. You would get used to it. You just had to get through this first time. And then you’d know how he was. Resolved now, you started taking off your shirt.

“Wait,” he said, breathed really. “Just wait.”

Your shirt was already halfway off, stuck on your arms above your head, so you shucked it the rest of the way and threw it on the floor, but didn’t do anything else.

He came over and stood so he was in your space. He brought his hand up to cup your face, his thumb on your cheekbone. And very slowly, he ducked his head to bring his lips to yours. There was something about it. The intimacy. Even with what you knew you were about to do with him. You just– A kiss was too much. You turned away. You couldn’t do it.

Instead, your hands went to unbutton your pants. You undid it slowly then bent over with your back to him to push them down your legs, sticking your ass out as much as you could. That was better than a kiss, right? You could make him want you.

You kicked your pants off and stood back up, looking over your shoulder to see him watching you. But his face was unreadable. You weren’t ready for him to touch you, so you said, “I can get myself ready for you,” hoping it came off coy, but you were afraid he’d be able to hear how your voice shook. For the briefest moment, you almost thought you saw something travel across his face. Disappointment, maybe. But it was gone too fast for you to be able to tell, and you were trying so hard to look away, anyway.

You got on the bed, lying on your back, sliding your panties off as seductively as you could. You closed your eyes tight and slowly moved one hand down your abdomen while the other started to play with your breast, cupping it, tweaking your nipple. As your other hand slipped between your thighs, you brought up your go-to fantasy. Nothing fancy or outlandish. Just a man standing over you, touching you, telling you how much he loved you, how much he loved your body. How he was going to ruin you, completely take you apart. You tried to focus on that as your fingers slowly made their way between your folds, as they made their way to your clit. But this room kept pulling you back to reality. You could hear Ransom taking his clothes off. You tried to ignore it. You were starting to get wet, slowly but surely, so you carefully pushed one finger inside yourself, trying so hard to focus on the man, his voice. You heard a bottle of lube flick open. No, no, you weren’t here, as you added another finger. You could hear Ransom’s hand on his cock now as your thumb continued to rub your clit. You opened your eyes despite yourself. Ransom was kneeling on the edge of the bed, stroking himself to hardness. It was the first time you’d seen him fully naked. He really was so beautiful. You sort of hated him for it. 

You closed your eyes again. You could do this. You scissored your fingers slowly, opening yourself up, a little whine escaping your lips, when suddenly, you felt a hand wrap around your ankle. You wanted to scream in frustration. It was no use. Your hands dropped down to your sides. You were ready enough. It wouldn’t hurt, it was fine. You blinked your eyes open again to find Ransom staring at your face, searching for something. You couldn’t begin to guess what. “I’m ready,” you said. 

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice soft, but gritty.

“Yeah, I’m good. How do you want me?”

He seemed almost startled by your question. “Uh, however you’re most comfortable.”

You nodded and flipped over onto your stomach, pulling your knees up toward your elbows and putting your ass in the air. This would be easiest if you didn’t have to look at him. If you could imagine someone else. Someone who loved you. Someone who wanted to be here. 

You heard the bottle of lube again and then felt him settle between your legs. One hand was on your ass and you presumed he was using the other to line himself up. You pushed your face into the pillow underneath you. You tried to bring the fantasy back as he slowly eased inside of you. He was big, but not so big it hurt. You breathed through it as he worked his way in with short, slow thrusts. He was being so gentle with you. You weren’t sure if you liked it. The hand on your ass moved to your hip, while the other snaked around to your stomach, softly stroking you there, then moved down over your pelvis, and then finally between your thighs to search for your clit. He found it quickly. But no matter how hard you closed your eyes, his fingers made it impossible for you to pretend that it was anyone else with you, anyone else touching you. Without thinking, you pushed his hand away and replaced it with your own. 

He was making little grunts and gasps behind you that you tried to ignore. You rubbed furious circles over your clit and tried to focus only on the fullness you felt. But then, that fullness started to lessen. The grunts behind you turned into a “Shit.” and then a “Fuck!” and suddenly, that fullness completely disappeared. You let out a little cry as he quickly pulled out of you. You turned around to catch a glimpse of his softening cock before he disappeared into the bathroom, the door slamming behind him. 

You lay on your back for just a moment, your mind trying to catch up, figure out what on earth had just happened. That voice that had been there this whole time, since that first meeting a month ago, came back with smug satisfaction. He doesn’t want you, it said, over and over. Your thighs were sticky, probably mostly from the lube. You didn’t think your wetness or his precome had been enough to make a mess out of you. You got up, desperate to not be naked anymore.  You grabbed a sleep shirt out of the closet you were using and slipped it on. You hugged yourself, standing in the middle of the room with no idea what to do. 

In the silence, with nothing else to focus on, you were suddenly aware of Lola crying across the hall. Fuck. Everything just kept getting worse.

Ransom came out of the bathroom and went straight to the bed. He stopped at the foot, seemingly surprised that you weren’t still in it. He looked up and found you on the other side of the room. 

“Is everything ok?” you asked quietly.

“It’s fine,” he said, voice sharp. You flinched and he sighed, then visibly tried to calm himself down. “It’s fine,” he said again, much softer this time. He held out a washcloth to you. “In case you need to clean yourself up.”

You took a few steps toward him so that you could grab it. “Thank you,” you said, as you quickly wiped between your legs, then went to finish cleaning up in the bathroom. 

When you came back out, he was back in bed, on his back, just staring at the ceiling. “What’s that noise?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s fine,” you hurried to answer. “It’s Lola, but she’s ok. She just isn’t used to sleeping alone. She’ll get used to it, eventually.” Your heart broke as you spoke, but you knew it couldn’t be avoided. 

“Where does she usually sleep?” he asked.

It took you a minute to answer, you were so surprised by the question. “Uh, with me,” you said.

“Then go get her,” he said, without looking at you. He hadn’t looked at you since you’d come out of the bathroom.

“Really?” you whispered.

“Yeah, if it stops her crying.”

You didn’t wait to be told again. You hurried across the hall and opened her crate, scooping her up into your arms. “I’m so sorry,” you cooed. “I’m so, so sorry. It’s going to be ok now.”

When you got back to the room, Ransom had turned off his light and turned over onto his side, facing the wall. You placed Lola on the bed and crawled in after her. As you turned off your own lamp, you whispered, “Thank you,” not sure if he was awake to hear it.

Tag list is open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @citronbun @rebeccapineapple @alexakeyloveloki @dancer3205 @i-can-do-this-all-dayy @thecrandle @lokislady82 @thedazzlingburglar @23skidoosteven @she-wolf09231982 @arbesa-mind @samfreakingwinchester @blackhawkfanatic @emerald-writes @identity2212 @have-another-doughnut @patzammit

[getmylifetogetherwme]

What Are My Goals? (+ a little backstory)

Hi again!

I figured my next post should definitely center around introducing what goals I want to achieve.

Well, as I said in my last post (which you should read if you want a bit more background on me), I am in my senior year of undergrad, but that definitely doesn't mean I'm done with school. Nope. In fact, the goal is to go straight into a master's program. Then after that, even more academia (yay!), but that's getting too far ahead of ourselves. Let's stick with the near future for now.

I know to get into a good master's program, I have to keep my grades up. That's among my goals for this year: keep those grades UP.

This semester is quite the mess. Not only do I have ochem 2, a subject I am practically allergic to fully understanding, but I'm also taking another god forsaken subject: physics. If you are one of those gifted individuals who just "get it," know that I envy you tremendously. They are the bane of my undergraduate existence. The only thing standing between me and my degree, I fear.

My goal is to get all A's this semester. An ambitious goal (when I consider my history with these subjects, ochem 1 resulted in a B) but one I think I can seriously achieve if I dedicate myself the way I know I can. So there's one goal: Study, study, study. And when I think I'm through studying? More studying.

Another goal I have for myself is working out. I do workout, but I am insanely inconsistent as of late. I want to work out consistently. Not only is it good for me, but I also feel really good when I do it. It just feels good to feel strong, you know. I've been going for a few weeks, and I've seen some improvement already, but I've just been really inconsistent diet wise, so I'm not seeing many results. Let's segway into that: I want to eat better.

And when I say I want to "eat better," I don't mean I want to restrict myself or anything like that. I'm uninterested in becoming this ultra health person who can't live a little. The deal is: chemotherapy affects a lot of things. To be honest, I try not to think about it much, but I do have to wonder how much it'll affect my health later on in life. I know I did what I had to do, but I really wanna lessen the blow of it as much as I possibly can. I think I can do that through diet and exercise, even if it's a fairly small difference. When it comes to my diet, I want to prioritize fiber and lean protein. Protein, of course, because I really would like to gain muscle. So far, I'm very inconsistent with my protein intake. Not only that, but I spend way too much money on eating fast food. I don't want to be too strict with myself, so of course I can get some chicken nuggets every once in a while, but fast food is not as cheap as I think it is in those moments! I swear, every meal is literally like 10 dollars. Am I the only one who remembers when a meal was like 7?? It is genuinely a problem, especially since I should be saving for a car right now. Yikes. So those are some of my diet goals: more protein, more fiber; less eating out.

Another goal: save money. Well, folks, it's time. I absolutely have to save money. I've missed out on so many opportunities because of my lack of reliable transportation. It seriously holds me back from internships, shadowing, etc.. I have a license, but it's hard to always have to borrow my mom's car, especially considering my uni is quite a bit away. So one of my goals is to save up a good chunk of money to buy something used that'll get me from point A to point B. I'm not really the type of person who needs a "fancy" car. I just need something reliable. Something that'll go the distance. I've heard good things about Hondas and Toyotas, but even used, those are a bit expensive. The goal is something in that realm though, so saving money really has to be prioritized.

Finally, I just really want to take care of myself. I've been at odds with myself for a while, my entire adolescence basically. I've just now in recent years (the last two or so) become a bit more "at peace" with who I am + who I've become. Before, I kinda saw my body as this enemy, and now, I'm learning to love it - learning to love me. To do things for myself, because I want to - because I think I deserve to give those things to myself. I don't want to be too harsh on myself about anything, but I want to nudge myself towards the goals I so very badly want to achieve.

These are just a few of the things I am currently wanting to strive towards and accomplish.

My future posts will be about these topics and perhaps other goals. I plan on doing weekly goals, weekly recaps, updates about specific goals, what I'm doing to achieve those goals, etc. etc.. All in the name of accountability. For example, I think it would be really cool if I do posts about how my fitness journey is going, like what sort of progress I'm making PR wise (I'm lifting weights now!). Then, I'll do weekly uploads going through just about everything I studied, read, etc. etc..

If you're interested in reading about all of this sort of stuff, you should give my blog a follow! I'd also recommend you read my first post if you're a bit confused or curious about the purpose of this blog and or myself.

Thank you for reading,

-C

[aisuru-skinny]

Things from recovery that have made my relapse less miserable

✨I AM IN NO WAY PROMOTING 3D OR ENCOURAGING RELAPSE. I AM VERY MUCH PRO RECOVERY AND WOULD NEVER WISH THIS ON ANYONE✨

But considering I'm currently in relapse and it's a mental disorder and I can't stop any of you, let alone myself, remember to take care of yourselves

🍒 Intuitive Eating - This is probably 85% responsible for my relapse because practicing intuitive eating, I ate every time I was hungry BUT I didn't allow myself to overeat either and I didn't keep eating if I felt like I had too much. I just wanted till I got hungry again. This was like some crazy proof that you can have self control and don't have to binge. If you felt like you messed up with one meal, don't just keep wrecking yourself. Choose that moment to reset IMMEDIATELY instead of telling yourself you'll do it later or if you can have 1 more binge. I used to go in cycles of ⭐vation and then binge for a day to a point where I knew I couldn't fill myself up more but kept going anyway. I haven't had what I would consider a full blown binge in almost 5 months because I know I have control (granted I have overeaten a few times but I don't let myself continue to spiral)

🍒Keto Diet - When we were trying to figure out why everything I eat makes me sick, a keto diet was also test trialed to see if I had a carbohydrate intolerance and the take away from this is that guYS FRUIT HAS SO MANY CARBS it's literally natural sugar that gets converted to carbs and you're weight can just pack back on. I'm not saying don't eat fruit, please do!!! But you have GOT to balance it out with protein and veggies. Having a more savory breakfast, if I eat that morning, makes me last through the day longer than something with fruit or just letting all my meals be fruit. If I do eat fruit, it's a small portion snack or like a little apple sauce pouch situation (there are these things I get called Gutzys and they're just fruit and greens purees with probiotics and 1 pouch is less than 100 cals and they're super filling. I also find if I eat them super quick it helps fill me up and feel a little sick so I don't keep eating after having one.)

🍒 Supplements - PLEASE. FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING. TAKE SUPPLEMENTS. I take hair, skin, and nails to maintain biotin levels as well as probiotics because my digestive system is clinically wrecked. And as much as y'all are gonna hate this one, I also drink fiber. It really helps keep things moving and can debloat you too by keeping movement. I've also heard magnesium can help with sleep and bloating but I personally didn't have a difference taking it. Every body reacts differently.

🍒Cycle Syncing - For those of us still on a menstrual cycle, there's something to be said about cycle syncing and remembering that our bodies do go through change every month (ugh). The closer I get to my period, the more bloating I deal with and also find my digestive system is more sensitive. Love Wellness Bye Bye Bloat pills actually really help with the hormonal bloating and I also find this time in my cycle is typically a good excuse for liquid fasting. Bone broths, miso, and diuretic/digestive teas (Dandelion Root/Ginger/Tumeric) are great. Magnesium levels can also drop a lot around this time and make us more susceptible to hunger and cravings, I find that making a low cal hot chocolate using ultra dark cocoa powder is the way to go. It can be slightly bitter to drink but babe get over it, you don't need added sugars. It helps replenish levels, can satisfy chocolate cravings, and the warm drink can help keep the digestive moving and reduce bloating.

🍒Spices - All I'll say, I got back into cooking and please guys. Use spices. Use salt, it has healthy minerals. I know we're not eating a lot but it doesn't have to taste like freaking cardboard. I never count calories in spices because it's slim to none anyways. If I didn't season my food, I'd probably be more wanting to cave and binge because the food is so bland I'm looking for something more tasteful to eat. Season your food, eat what little of it you want, you're satisfied and won't go looking for less boring food.

Remember to take care of yourselves 🩷