#and she's like um I don't think that that's what that means at all

[lambcultist]

bad idea.

synopsis — ‧₊˚ ⋅ your heat rears its head for the first time in your life when you're spending time with a dear friend. instead of letting you stress and worry alone, ellie makes the executive decision to take care of you for the week. maybe that was a bad idea. she knows no more than you about what to do right now—all she knows is that she doesn't want to see you hurting, and your clinginess comes from the evolutionary instinct to be bred. perhaps her judgement is just a little clouded, but it seems like there is only one solution to your problems, and she'd feel awful withholding relief from you.

content warnings — ‧₊˚ ⋅ MINORS DNI ( 18+ ) omegaverse. alpha!ellie x omega!reader. heat. completely just porn (with plot). loser!ellie coded. friends to lovers. amab!ellie. virginity loss, scent kink, knotting kink, marking (as in omegaverse marking), breeding kink, possessive!ellie, subspace, fingering, p in v sex (without protection). for this anon.

　　　　m.list　wc — 3.3k　mdni, please ♡

at first, ellie thinks that you must have lit a candle. yet there's nothing alight, no flickering flame.

it's something warm, sweet, and spicy. there's a little bit of cinnamon, milk, and rose... it's so unique, like nothing she's ever smelled before, and before she even knows it, the pleasantness of it has her gravitating to whatever the source is.

"did you try a new perfume today?" ellie mumbles, taking a deep breath of it in. it's like your faint, natural odour has been elevated, and she loves it. "it's beautiful."

"um, no.."

you are far less comfortable than ellie right now, curled up beside her, and she's moved so close to you without even realising—she's almost on top of you. for some reason you aren't annoyed by it, rather content with it. your skin feels as though it's on fire, and it's only soothed in the places she rests on.

when ellie finally opens her eyes and takes a look at you, she sees your discomfort, and her brows crease with worry. "oh god, you're sweating bullets. y'alright? what's going on?"

"s'okay, closer..." you hum, wrapping your legs around ellie's. hanging onto her like a koala, with your face pressed into her side. "it's hot..."

"yeah, it's— you're hot. like, temperature wise, i mean. well, not that you're like, ugly. you're hot, i just— i wasn't trying to say that. i'm... going to shut up." jesus. ellie isn't very good at nurturing. she's not really great at being soft, either.

"ellie..."

"hi," ellie offers, looking down at you. the television is still playing idly in the background, and she tries to brush some of your hair out of your face. your scent is becoming so overpowering right now, she can't help but feel weird about it. her mind is cloudy, and your sudden clinginess is just making her face hot. "you feeling okay?"

"no... it's hot," you complain again. so, ellie tries to pull the blankets off, that would help, right? you seem to be running a fever, jesus, she really hopes she doesn't catch whatever you have.

well, when ellie pulls back the sheets, she's confronted with the truth behind your sudden ailment; a large wet patch has formed beneath your body, staining her bed. no wonder your scent was so strong. it's slick.

"oh.. shit." she clears her throat awkwardly, her hand pausing its gentle petting of your hair. "you're... are you in heat right now? did you—"

"this is my first heat," you whine. "i didn't know it was coming, m'sorry ellie. i'm scared and—"

"oh no, no, don't be scared! it's alright." ellie's quick to stop you from taking any blame, although she's just... dumbfounded.

she feels so strange now, but her first course of action is to hold her pillow over her lap. she doesn't want you to notice the semi-hard outline of her cock in her sweatpants, she already feels like enough of a creep just for it being there.

she's always been proud of not being one of those alphas. she's tried so hard to make you comfortable around her since she met you, having seen you be unable to relax in the presence of others. she's harboured some awkward feelings, but was on high alert, making sure she never overstepped. she isn't entitled to you.

her mind feels so, so hazy right now, and it's a problem.

what is the rational thing to do right now? she knows it's to keep her hands to herself, and maybe help you prepare a nest. you may have to spend the week here, it's too dangerous to transport you from ellie's place back to your own. how the fuck is she supposed to keep all of her touches respectful right now?

"you wait here, okay darlin'? i'll get you some more blankets and pillows, we'll get you comfy, that's good yeah?"

"don't go, no," you mumble, shaking your head.

"listen to me, i'll be two seconds."

ellie has never heard her voice do that before. she's never spoken with so much authority, and she's certainly panicking that whatever lame instinct your scent has awoken in her is taking over, but perhaps it's just stress, too. this is stressful.

she's also rock hard, simply because you listened so well, and let go of her immediately. your sweet whimper as you curled into yourself...

ellie takes deep breaths as she approaches the linen closet. she doesn't have much for you to work with, but it'll do. she grabs all that she can and brings it back to the bed. the way that your eyes scan it all is almost analytical in nature, it's so purely instinctual. you've created nests while spending time with ellie before, but only with the limited supply of bedding that was on hand. this is going to take more time, and it'll be so much comfier than any nest you've made her before.

"think you'll be able to make something comfy with this?"

ellie assists as you put together a comfortable place to rest. she's not as helpful as she thinks she is, and gives up after realising you're moving and readjusting everything that she just put together. she's just being more of a nuisance than anything else.

as you crawl about the bed and mull over every little detail, ellie watches. she figures this is growing a little obsessive, and that's because it is. this needs to be perfect. but you've slightly readjusted different pillows ten times now, so ellie decides to step in, putting her hand on your shoulder.

"that's enough now. do you want to lay down and watch a movie?"

big eyes meet ellie's and she almost feels fucking heartless for asking you to be done with the nest now.

"it's— the nest is good. it's great. we'll be nice and comfy, let's just get you rested up, okay?"

"okay," you murmur. but you're really not going to be comfortable like this, with your shirt sticking to your blistering skin and panties soaked of slick. it's starting to run down your legs, the creamy substance so distracting to ellie, but you catch her again with a whine. "it's just really hot."

this is really what ellie wanted to avoid. after all, you're just her friend, and she doesn't want to meddle with any of that. especially not like this, with your heat involved. she knows that your clinginess right now is all based on instinct, or at least she thinks so—she's forgetting how much you stick to her like glue on a daily basis. it's just that her own instinct is beginning to cloud her judgement and she knows that if you take off your clothes, it's going to get very, very difficult to rein herself in.

"okay, you okay if we get these sticky clothes off you then?" ellie asks a little reluctantly. rationality is at war with instinct right now. her body is all too excited, especially once you nod and she begins to peel your top off.

there is an omega in ellie's bed, close to crying over the painful need that a heat can bring, and ellie just has to keep her hands to herself. for a whole week. this is not going to end well, it's not, and she knows it's not.

you curl up so close to ellie, her scent filling your senses. you try to watch the movie on her tv, but it hurts. it hurts your head. your stomach swirls and aches, because all you keep thinking about is why hasn't ellie done something yet? she's doing nothing but stroking your hair.

and it just gets worse and worse the stronger her scent becomes and when your eyes dart down to the tent she's trying to subtly palm with her free hand. you're needy, you're needing ellie right now. alpha.

it's getting to ellie a little too much now. she cannot continue listening to you whimper and sob in need anymore. and although she's starting to lean more towards just giving up her resolve and fucking you, she still tries to rationalise it—we're friends. it's okay, you need this. it won't be too bad if i just help out once, right?

"you okay?" ellie asks, staring down at you. she stifles a shaky sigh, letting her hand fall to your shoulder and gently rub the warm skin. "do you... want anything?"

"you." the answer is definitive. it sounds as though you've never been more sure about anything in your life before, and that is really how you feel right now. "please, alpha."

there is a pause, where ellie tries to fight with herself one last time.

but you called her alpha, and it rolled off your tongue sugary and welcomingly.

"do you want me to help you feel better darlin'? i can," ellie whispers. she can, but she's also never freaking had sex before, and she knows neither have you. this is such a bad idea.

"pleaaase," you mewl, looking up at ellie. you rest your hand over hers on your shoulder, and squeeze gently. "alpha, i need help."

you won't stop. alpha. alpha. alpha. it's making her head spin.

"shh, shh, i know. i gotchu. gonna lay you down and help you out, okay?"

maybe ellie can get away with this in a more simple way. she, stupidly, doesn't have any condoms (she always thought, why even bother? not like i'm getting any action!), so if she fucks you, there's a very good chance you'll end up with her pups. she doesn't need that, no matter how much she wants to knot you. maybe she can just get away with touching you, and she'll just try to cope with her erection until she can find a good time to rub it out in the bathroom.

ellie gets up and ever so gently rolls you onto your back, her fingers rubbing circles into your sides. she is confronted with the sight of your body now, she cannot look away like she attempted earlier. every beautiful curve and blemish and crevice is available for her viewing pleasure, and it makes it so much harder to ignore her pants' straining.

"there you go, good girl," ellie comforts with a firm pat on your side. when she tries sitting up, though, you pull her back over yourself, her knee nestling in between your legs and her lips a hair's breadth from yours. those half-lidded eyes and that timid smile of yours are all she can see.

"alpha, a kiss?"

"ah, i— i mean, we can, but... tsk. fuck it."

ellie just wants to be a good help. she doesn't want to cross the line too far, rather she'll just toe it for now, but you are making it very, very hard for her to keep being smart about this.

ellie's lips grace yours and you cannot help yourself, a tender mewl falling from your throat. she hums herself, your mouth so perfect, that she can't stop herself from kissing you harder.

"good enough kiss for you, yeah?" ellie murmurs, pulling away to assess the display of debauchery you offer. squirming and rutting against her thigh, trying to paw at the cotton warming her body. "hey, hey, hey, shh. i got you babe. patience."

"achy, els, need you to help—"

"i know, i know," ellie replies, hushing you once again as she pushes your thighs apart. your skin is boiling and sticky, sweat and slick trickling down the supple flesh onto the bed. ellie's mattress is never going to recover from this. that's okay.

two slender fingers pass through your folds, your slick gathering at the tips like thick honey. she can't help being curious, head tilting to observe the way it behaves, her nose flaring at the powerful scent it beholds.

"fuck," she whispers, taking her fingers between her lips to taste it. her dick twitches, almost like it has a mind of its own and is not so subtly reminding her it's right there, in need of some attention. she can't give in to that right now, she has to focus her efforts on you. "okay baby, okay, let's help you out now. thank you for being such a good girl while i'm being dumb."

"aaah, it's okay alpha," you murmur. every word is sighed as though you're out of breath, because you feel like you are—everything is a struggle right now, your need for her overwhelming you. you're too far gone.

a spark of pleasure elicits a full-body shiver, all from ellie's fingers once again rubbing some of the ache out of your cunt. she is clearly trying to be as gentle as she can, although her wide-eyed fascination grows so much stronger when your fluttering hole sucks her fingers in so welcomingly, knuckle-deep in an instant. as easily as you took her fingers, there's still an undeniable, delicious stretch, and the sting is easy to ignore, thanks to your heat.

any rational thought, any pain, any independence, is all replaced by pure instinct. you are at your most fertile. there is nothing running through your mind beyond the thought of fulfilling the cause that you were given as an omega. the only comfort you can get is when you're touched. ellie, ellie, ellie. it's her. she's your ticket to relief.

"god, aren't you pretty like that?" ellie gasps, eyes unsure whether to stare at your pretty pussy or your pretty face. she wants to imagine it's her dick spreading the folds of your pussy like that, making your face contort in pleasure, just like her fingers are. "is it good, darlin'?"

"more," you whine, shutting your eyes. ellie is quick to oblige, a third finger pushing in.

she curls her fingers inside of you, scissoring and moving them, and she leans down to drag her lips along your neck. in the process, she finds your scent glands at the nape of your neck, where your smell is the strongest, and it's fucking miserable trying not to sink her teeth in. you are so trusting to her right now, she could easily mark you. she's always wanted her own omega... this is exactly what she wanted to avoid. well, aside from getting you pregnant, of course—ellie can't trust that she'll be able to keep this all 'friendly'. marking you should be thoroughly out of the question. and yet, she's struggling.

"alpha, more."

"don't snap at me."

ellie feels bad for scolding you. obviously. but it kind of felt great. you listened, you shut up instantly. she's suddenly starting to realise you are the best omega she could find. it's so much more tempting, but, she refuses to breach any barriers right now.

"is this not enough?" ellie asks, making an effort now to keep her voice a bit softer. you shake your head no, because truthfully, ellie doesn't understand what you're feeling right now. she doesn't get what you're going through to the fullest, she has no idea the painstaking yearning you're enduring.

"i need you, alpha," you say. your voice is high, needy, and mousy. "i'll be a good girl. you're achy too, i need to take care of you."

"alright, alright, don't worry. i'm coming babe."

ellie reluctantly pulls her fingers out of you, drawing her lip between her teeth. she shouldn't, but she's going to do this. because what kind of alpha doesn't fold for an omega in need? you are asking so prettily to be bred, telling her you want to take care of her, because you noticed the tent in her sweatpants.

"we're gonna get you what you want," ellie murmurs, hastily shoving her pants down and her hoodie off. "fill you up real nice, yeah? and— and take care of me too."

honestly, ellie does not waste any time now. as soon as she's ready, she's burying her cock in your cunt, all the way to the hilt, and groaning into your ear. you take her so well, cunt clamping down on her. it's warm, it's comfortable, and it's a little slippery, more so than she thought it would be.

ellie lifts her head from your neck for just a moment, eyeing your expression. "you feeling good, babe? how's that for being filled, yeah?"

"mmmh," you hum, barely able to keep your own eyes open. the sight of ellie above you is not something you want to miss, though. through the tears that blur your vision, you spot auburn strands sticking to her forehead, her rosy nipples firm, and her abs flexing as she fights every urge to begin pounding you. she's so beautiful like this. "it's so much."

"good." ellie glances down, catching the sight of her length disappearing into you again as she makes a slow couple of thrusts. "you take it so well, so, so well."

"more."

ellie is starting to hate that word. she rolls her eyes, and huffs. "fuckin' more. alright. be patient."

her pace builds. with the gradual increase of speed, her thrusts heavy and forceful, the more her voice breaks too. needy whines and laboured breath mixing with your own nonsensical babbling and pleading. her hands, clammy and rough, hold your own against the bed.

what has only become more tempting are your little scent glands. ellie glares at the spot on your neck as she slams into you, over, and over, and over. she tries to be careful when she buries her face into your neck.

but she is lost in the moment. you're crying about how great she's making you feel, but she doesn't need to hear that to know it.

you are weak.

ellie does not get to feel strong often. she's shorter, much less muscular than the typical alpha is. she's not ever been good enough, because she's walked this earth in a much gentler way than what is expected of her.

you submit effortlessly, and you've rendered yourself helpless to her. you're as malleable as clay, every little moan and sob inflating not only ellie's ego but her adoration of you.

there cannot be an omega more perfect than you, she's certain that'd be a hard find. thinking about you with any other alpha doesn't just make her angry, but it hurts.

and that's why she sinks her teeth into your scent glands without warning. marking you, so that no other alpha can have you.

and you squeal. she feels no morsel of guilt, instead she's filled with pride. maybe she'll worry about it later, when her instincts wear off a bit and she takes a proper step back from the situation.

"shit, i'm so close," ellie mutters. she can feel her knot starting to build, it's a very unusual feeling. the resistance knocking back all of her thrusts, forcing her pace to slow, even as she chases orgasm. "gonna breed you, fill you up real good like you wanted."

it reaches a place so far and sensitive in you that you now find that relief you sought so desperately. your vision whites around the edges and your body jolts with little sparks of love. every little move is like a shock to you, and despite your crippling sensitivity, you watch in awe when ellie finally lets go. her brows furrow as she falls on top of you, spilling a load of hot, white seed inside you.

you're stuck to her.

neither of you can move. sweaty skin on skin, scents dancing around each other, and the sound of heavy breathing fills the room.

"goddamn," ellie grunts, laying a kiss to your jaw. "good girl. good puppy. f-fuck."

"alpha..." you coo, hugging her tight. "my alpha."

she yelps, feeling a rough nip at the side of her neck. she flushes red and hot to the tips of her ears. you've marked her too.

also just saying, alpha!ellie's scent is wildflowers, petrichor, bark, and dirt. she's earthy and fresh. i really want her :( i will write more more more alpha!els

🏷️  @abbysdollie @cowgirlvi @valeisaslut @eriiwaii @literallyhousemd @ellieshothousewife @piercedome @therealhexstrap @jinxedbambi @heyimrye @rhian88 @g4ys0n @yoosohh @marvelwomenarehot0

[mediumgayitalian]

"I got him," whispers Annabeth sleepily. "Go back to bed, Malcolm."

"Hmph."

Annabeth hip-checks her brother gently, stepping out onto the porch and sliding the door shut behind her. She yawns behind her hand.

"What's up, dude?"

Nico blinks at her. "I forget you spent much of your life in California."

Annabeth flushes. "I'll go back inside."

"No no no no, I'm sorry, I need your help so bad."

As if Nico had said hey I have a blank cheque here with your name on it, Annabeth perks up. All sleepiness evaporates from her gray eyes.

"Yeah?"

"Yes. I'm -- stupid, Annabeth. I have reached the bitter end of processing power in my brain. It's lonely down here. I've got, like, a lonely cracker and some pocket lint. I'm bereft."

"You lost me at the second sentence."

"I just mean --" Nico draws in a breath, pressing his knuckle to his nose -- "I don't...know things."

Annabeth stares at him. 

"...Uh-huh."

"Like. Things of the...heart. Mind. You know, feelings."

"Nico, is this about -- look, I'm no matchmaker, man. I support your plan wholeheartedly and am rooting for you but I landed my boyfriend by insulting him upon first meeting him. I just -- I got nothing, okay. Human behaviour is the antithesis to logic. Every emotion makes me cry forever. Flirting? I don't know her. I threaten and wink and it works for me. I'm --"

"Percy says he thinks it's a self-esteem problem," he blurts. "He thinks he -- hates himself."

Annabeth falters. "Oh." She sags against the door, sighing. "Oh, um. Yeah. He does."

[aurumacadicus]

I had a thought. Hmmmm. Bear with me.

--

"Rogers," someone barked, and Steve almost choked on his champagne. He turned, bewildered, to find Carol Danvers charging toward him like she was on a mission. A group of partygoers even scattered out of her way. He cast around for anything he could have said that would insult the air force. He couldn't think of anything that would have insulted her anymore than her playful ribs about the army, though.

"Barnes says you're a sad-sack," Carol said, coming to a stop right in front of him.

"...Ouch?" Steve spluttered after a moment. "He said that about me?"

Carol winced, seeming to realize she'd basically just insulted him. "No, I mean, uh--" She coughed, cleared her throat, then took a step backward to give him some space. "Barnes says you don't dance. At all."

Steve blinked, wondering what that had to do with anything. "No, I don't."

"And you came stag," she added, gaze intense.

Steve glanced around for an escape. That seemed ominous. He didn't even want to come to this stupid party, but the brass had basically told him it was mandatory after a few successful (and very high profile) missions. They hadn't served dinner yet. While he would miss the steak, he could probably make it out through the kitchen. Or a bathroom window.

"Will you stop looking like I'm asking you to volunteer for a firing squad?" Carol hissed between her teeth. "I just need you to sit with a friend while Jim and I dance."

"...Oh," Steve said after some thought. "Maybe if you hadn't charged up to me like you were asking me to volunteer for a firing squad, I wouldn't look like this. I thought Maria couldn't come?"

"Different friend," Carol answered, voice clipped. When he only raised an eyebrow at her in response, she huffed, blowing a piece of hair out of her face. "Jim doesn't want to leave him alone right now, but I didn't want to pull anyone away from their date."

Well, Steve supposed he could understand that. He threw back the last gulp of his champagne, then set the empty glass on the bar. "Okay. Don't approach me like we're about to get into a fistfight anymore."

"Sorry," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, then turned to lead him over to her table. "Also, does Barnes's date have a gun on her? She reached for something when I went to ask him if he knew anyone who wouldn't mind sitting for a song."

"No, it's a knife," Steve answered helpfully.

Carol almost stumbled, but she caught herself on the next step. "She would have stabbed me?!"

Steve paused, considering, then answered, "I dunno, maybe. She's never stabbed me."

"I can see why Barnes likes her," Carol grumbled reluctantly. She grabbed his sleeve before he could say anything else and yanked him up beside her. "Tony! I've found someone to sit with you. This is Steve."

Tony, Steve assumed, blinked up at both of them in confusion. His mouth was still open with a forkful of cheesecake halfway toward it. His eyes darted back and forth between them before he finally set is fork back down. "Um?"

Steve couldn't help but gawk. How had he gotten dessert already? The hors d'oeuvres were still out on the main table. Steve had just nervously demolished the last of the crostini. He was still thinking about the steak he'd ordered.

"Jim and I are going to go have a dance," Carol continued, reaching out to grab Jim by the collar and drag him up out of his seat. "I promise we'll be back after three songs."

"Um," Tony said again, and Jim spluttered something about his own dessert, but Carol dragged him away before he could get his feet under him. He and Steve watched them disappear into the crowd milling about the dance floor. Steve almost felt sorry for him.

But then he saw that Jim's dessert was a beautiful piece of chocolate cake with soft pink layers of frosting. "Well, best not to let Jim's plate go to waste," Steve said cheerfully, sitting down in Jim's seat, and pulled the tiny dessert plate closer. He could probably get himself another slice later, after dinner. He had this one, after all.

"Um," Tony said again, frowning in confusion. "You don't. Have to sit with me? I can take care of myself for fifteen minutes."

Steve shrugged. "No offense, but I'm more scared of Carol than I am of you."

Tony swiveled to stare in the direction Carol had disappeared to, then looked back up at him, huffing. "I guess that makes sense." He shifted in his seat awkwardly. "Maybe you can actually get me out of here without drawing attention when you're done with Rhodey's cake."

Steve wondered what that meant, but he'd shoved a huge bite of cake into his mouth at the same time, and by the time he'd chewed and swallowed, Tony was focused on making sure he got the perfect cheese-to-crust ratio in each bite, and waved him away when he tried to ask. He gave off kind of the same vibe Natasha did, and he had several knives nearby for the oncoming dinner service, so Steve focused on his cake.

Tony finished just as Steve was scraping the last of the icing from his plate, and he dabbed at his mouth with his cloth napkin, set it on the table, then clasped his hands in his lap and turned to bat his eyelashes at Steve. "If you can get me onto the balcony without letting anyone talk to me, I will give you a million dollars."

Steve blinked back at him. "That's it?"

"If you can get me to my limo without Rhodey noticing, I'll even make sure he doesn't kill you," Tony offered.

Steve stood, then narrowed his eyes, slowly sinking back into his seat. "I dunno, this is a lieutenant colonel we're talking about."

Tony blinked at him slowly, then simply stated, "Coward."

"Okay," Steve said, lurching back to his feet. He scowled when Tony smirked at him, irritated that he was apparently so readable. He offered Tony his hand.

At that, Tony looked surprised. He glanced back and forth between Steve's hand and face, shoulders drawing in nervously when he slanted a look around them, as if to see who might be watching them. He looked back up at Steve with a frown. "Carol didn't tell you why Rhodey didn't want me alone, did she?"

Steve hesitated, then let his hand drop back to his side, feeling like an idiot. "She barely told me who you were."

Tony looked away, shoulders rising and falling with a heavy sigh. "Oh. Well." He shook his head, then lifted both of his hands from his lap, letting them drop to his sides--

Steve couldn't help the sick feeling forming in his gut as Tony rolled himself back, wheelchair appearing from under the tablecloth. It looked like he still had his legs, but Steve knew looks could be deceiving. And it would be rude to ask, of course. He swallowed thickly. Why would this mean Tony needed to be babysat, though? Unless he was talking about leaving before dinner was even served. He felt like he should have asked Carol more questions, been more assertive, if only to save himself the embarrassment he felt now.

"It's okay," Tony sighed, pushing his chair back under the table so he could hide it with the tablecloth again.

"...I can take you out onto the balcony," Steve said after a brief pause.

Tony shot him an amused smile. "That million just too much to pass up?"

"What? No, I wasn't going to expect it anyway," Steve scoffed. He reached out, wrapping his hands around the handles of Tony's wheelchair. "It would feel like stealing, anyway. It's not gonna be hard."

Tony tipped his head back to raise an eyebrow at him. "Oh yeah? Lots of people have been coming by to talk to me since I got here. I'm sure tons of them will stop us, and--"

"Hold on," Steve said, then braced his feet against the floor.

Tony let out a startled little 'meep' as the chair lurched forward, hands slamming down on the armrests as Steve quickly gained speed. His alarm quickly gave way to delight, though, because then he was throwing his head back, laughing, as Steve sprinted toward the balcony. Most people jumped out of the way, but Steve did end up mowing over a few long skirts. He'd probably get chewed out by Colonel Phillips tomorrow.

But with the genuine delight on Tony's face, he couldn't find it in himself to care that much.

"Oh! Oh," Tony laughed as Steve slowed to a stop next the railing. He put a hand over his chest, lifting the other to wipe a tear away from his eye. "Oh my god. I'm gonna have to pay so many dry cleaning bills."

"Take it outta that million you owe me," Steve replied, leaning back against the railing with a smug smile. "And then give the rest to charity."

"You're crazy," Tony told him, grinning, and he sounded happy still. "Rhodey always told me military guys were crazy, but I never really believed him."

Steve shrugged. "Well. I allegedly once threw myself off a helicopter without a parachute once."

"Allegedly," Tony repeated, shaking his head with what looked like genuine admiration. "How high up was it?"

"Well, I spent a lot of last year pulling off a real good mimicry of Jimmy Stewart from Rear Window," Steve answered, still smiling.

Tony's mouth dropped open into an 'o' of shock. "Are you crazy, or stupid?"

Steve shrugged again. "Yeah." Tony laughed again, from deep in his belly. It was a good look on him, Steve thought, letting his hands drop back to brace on the balcony railing. "So why did Carol think you needed to be babysat?"

He regretted asking immediately. Tony's smile dimmed, and his eyes dropped to his lap. He wrung his hands a couple times, then looked back up at Steve with a sad smile. "Dancing was my favorite part of these events before the accident. I am--I... was good at it. My mother had me in dancing classes since I was six. This is my first big event since..." He motioned at his legs. "I didn't realize how much I would miss it. And Rhodey's such a good friend, he was gonna sit with me the entire time, even though I knew he wanted to dance with Carol."

"That's nice of him," Steve answered carefully. He offered Tony a rueful smile. "I guess it's a good thing she chose me, huh? I can't dance at all."

Tony's expression turned wistful. "I could have taught you. I've taught a lot of people to dance." He looked Steve up and down, gaze turning speculative. "Mostly debutantes. But I was always up for a challenge." His eyes lingered on Steve's feet, then he squinted up at his face. "Those might have hurt my toes more than their stilettos."

Steve blinked, surprised, then couldn't help a bark of laughter. "Wow! Saying I have big feet and calling me fat at the same time."

"You're built like a tank," Tony huffed petulantly. "I'm pretty sure that's why so many people jumped out of the way. A collision with me, oh, well, ouch, but what a great story for the papers. Getting hit by you would have killed them instantly."

"I was probably going too fast," Steve allowed, but he decided he didn't really care. Maybe it would keep him from getting sent to these shindigs. He let his eyes trail over Tony's legs, considering, then dragged his gaze up his body. Tony looked... pretty slight. He wondered how long it had been since his accident. It would be rude to ask though. "Are you ambulatory at all?"

Tony frowned, brows furrowing together in confusion. "Yeah? I mean. I'm still in physical therapy, so. Hopefully I'll. Get more use out of my legs again." He sighed. "Maybe I'll dance again someday. But probably not."

"So it won't hurt you to get out of the chair?" Steve asked, just to be sure.

Tony tipped his head. "...No," he finally answered. "The pain is... secondary to the neurological component."

"Cool," Steve said, standing up from leaning on the railing, and reached out to scoop Tony up into his arms.

Tony yelped, flailing, and threw his arms around Steve's shoulders. "Fuck! Steve! You can't just go around picking disabled people out of their fucking wheelchairs-!"

Steve took a moment to make sure Tony wouldn't squirm out of his grip, carefully adjusting his arms under his knees and behind his shoulders. Once he was certain he had Tony safely in his arms, he straightened his back, then carefully turned in a circle on one heel.

"Did you--" Tony choked out, and he buried his face in Steve's neck. "Did you just twirl me?"

"It's the only dance move I know," Steve answered. He rocked from side to side, then carefully twirled him in another circle. "You could teach me some other moves, if you don't like the twirling."

"No," Tony whispered, and Steve didn't comment on the fact that he could feel him beginning to tremble. "I mean--yes. I can teach you. But I don't... dislike the twirling."

Steve nodded, giving him another spin. "So, are you leaving the party with Colonel Rhodes?"

Tony couldn't quite bite back a laugh, leaning back to smile at Steve. It almost hid how bright his eyes were, how much he blinked to keep tears at bay. "You are about as subtle as a bull in a china shop, Steve."

Steve couldn't help but grin back. "I wasn't trying to be subtle. I just used you as a battering ram."

Tony laughed again, leaning back in. His arms squeezed around Steve's shoulders as his laugh ended in a sort of hiccup. Steve didn't mention it, instead going back to his slow, gentle circles. He was kind of surprised that no one had come after them, but he decided not to think too much on it. Jim would come find them after he and Carol finished dancing. It wasn't as if Steve hadn't left a noticeable trail of scandalized rich people behind him to follow.

[thezombieprostitute]

Would you ever revisit the shy reader and give her a happy ending without Ransom? Maybe she meets Jake? Or Steve? Or Curtis? Or Cole? Really anyone who would be genuine. She deserves to feel safe and loved.

You know, she really does deserve those things.

Summary: Another meeting but with a better outcome. (Follow up to Ransom Drysdale x Shy!Reader)

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Anxiety, Shyness, Stalker behavior (not from Chris!). Please let me know if I missed anything.

"Chris, look at me," Mace grumbles. "I don't care what you say to her, I don't care if it's just asking about a book, just talk to her! Let her know you actually exist, okay?"

"Right," Chris nods a little too much in his nervousness. "I can do that. I can...ask where the astronomy section is or something, right?"

Mace fights the urge to tell him she'll likely think he's an idiot since the astronomy section is clearly marked. Instead he closes his eyes and counts to ten.

Thankfully Sam comes to his rescue. "I mean, maybe go for biology or something? Might ease the conversation into how you're a doctor?"

"Keep it simple," Joaquin interjects. "We know how Chris can get, especially around the cute girls."

Chris's cheeks turn pink. Yale Medical School? Air Force? Nothing compares to getting himself ready to talk to you. He's grateful to his air force buddies for helping him out.

"Right, simple," he reiterates. "I'll just...um...maybe I can ask for a gift recommendation?"

"Ooo! Good idea!" Sam nods.

"Might encourage a conversation," Mace agrees.

"And that's all you're looking for right now," Joaquin assures.

"Yeah, okay. I can do this," Chris tells himself.

It's been several months now since you finally broke things off with Ransom. In some ways you miss him. Life with him was a lot less lonely. But everything else was so uncomfortable. Everything else made you feel worse about yourself than usual. It's for the best that he's not around anymore. You'd tried sending the gifts back to him, but they all got returned making you feel guilty. Not wanting them around anymore, you gave them to friends or dropped them off at second hand stores. Anything to get them out of your apartment and stop reminding you.

You shake your head to stop thinking about him. You're at work, just focus on that. These books won't shelve themselves.

There's a gentle cough behind you, followed by a soft, "excuse me?"

You turn around, customer service smile on, "how can I help you?" While you can't bring yourself to look him in the eyes, you can tell he's very handsome. He seems almost as nervous as you. Maybe he's the type that hates to admit needing help?

"Um...I was...I just...um..." he stutters, also not looking you in the eye. He starts rubbing the back of his head, his cheeks turning pink. "I need a gift for a friend. Could um...could use some help?"

"Of course, sir," you say with as much reassurance as you can muster. You're wondering if you look the same when you're feeling shy. Well, you can't look as adorable as him, but you're sure you've got similar mannerisms. "Um, can you tell me some of their interests?"

"Right, yeah, that...that would probably help. Um...aeronautics?"

It takes a moment for the dictionary in your brain to connect the term to the appropriate section of the bookstore. "If you'll follow me, I can show you where we keep our books about flight. Would they prefer something about the history of it? Maybe the engineering itself? Or rockets?"

"You...you know a lot about this stuff!"

"Oh, um. Not really." Your face drops slightly as your cheeks start burning. "I just know the subject headings, related topics kinds of stuff. I'd never have the brain for the actual taxonomy."

"I um...I'm...I mean, not to toot my own horn but--" he stops himself and you can hear him quietly muttering "toot my own horn? Who the hell says that?"

"So here's where you'll find our books on aeronautics," you interrupt his self berating. "Those shelves are more history focused, those ones are more space focused. If you need further help, please let me know."

"Thank you," he smiles as he fidgets.

It took a lot more visits to the store than Chris would have liked but he did, eventually, get the courage to ask you out. You surprised yourself when you said "yes" with almost no hesitation. In all of your "conversations" he'd been so polite and understanding. He put you at ease, made you laugh, and respected your boundaries. If you told him you were on your break, or helping someone else, he backed off and he never made you feel bad about it. And he never tried meeting you outside of the safety of your work space. Plus, he was really cute, soft-spoken and encouraging.

You're still nervous that things could go south. That he'll turn out to be another Ransom. That he'll make fun of how shy you can be. But for once, you're hopeful.

O'Malley gave Ransom the file on Dr. Chris Beck. "Let's face it, you can't compete with this guy."

Ransom's cheeks turned red as his jaw tensed. "Why not?"

O'Malley scoffs. "The guy's got med school cred, Air Force connections, and even friggin' space programs. The only thing you've got that he doesn't is money."

"Air Force reserves," Ransom counters as he reads the file.

"Still more than you ever did."

Ransom grabs his phone and types a few things. "Your payment, as promised. Now get the hell out."

O'Malley confirmed receipt of the money and headed out.

Ransom looked over Beck's file and his heart falls. He really can't compete with doctor. Ransom pours himself another drink. He hasn't been happy since your breakup, waiting for his opportunity to prove himself. But with this guy in the picture?

He looks at the photo of you he keeps on his phone and raises his glass in a toast. "At least you finally found someone worthy of you."

Previous

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @irishhappiness; @kmc1989; @lokislady82; @ronearoundblindly

[babisawyer]

when god closes a door, he opens a window. and by that I mean I was extremely depressed today and then I found a cow squishmallow that I've been looking for for literal years at the grocery store.

[a-most-beloved-fool]

Kira has a nightmare, one night when she's staying at the O'Brien's. Miles and Keiko, sleeping in the other room, don't hear her get up - but Molly does.

And Molly, being clever and kind, knows exactly what to do when someone has a nightmare. (Or, at least, she knows what her parents always do for her.) So she sits Kira down and brings her a glass of warm milk, and sits by her side as she drinks it.

Then, she takes Kira by the hand and leads her - to her parents bedroom. "I always sleep with mommy and daddy after a nightmare," she explains, when Kira stops outside the door. "It helps! Mommy chases the scary things away. And Daddy is warm."

"Molly," Kira says quietly, a little embarrassed, "I don't think your parents want me in their bed. Even if I did have a nightmare."

"No, they won't mind!" Molly assures.

Then, of course, Miles wakes up.

"Molly?" he asks, voice rough with sleep. "Did you have a nightmare?"

"No, but Miss Kira did!"

And now Keiko's awake, too, sitting up and saying, "Nerys? Are you alright?"

Mortified, Kira says, "Yes, I'm fine, I was just - on my way back to bed. Molly brought me here. I'm - sorry for waking you. I'll just be-"

"You can stay, if you want," Miles offers.

Kira doesn't quite think she heard him right. "What?"

"You can sleep here, if you think it might help," Keiko says.

"Or even if you don't!" Miles adds.

Kira opens her mouth, then closes it again. "I, uh-"

Keiko gets up, and takes Kira, gently, by the hand. Her palm is soft, Kira can't help but notice.

"Brr, it's freezing out here!" Keiko says, tugging Kira along. "You'd better get in before you catch your death of cold. Miles is practically a furnace, so you'll be nice and warm with us."

"And, Molly, you'd best go back to bed, too. You've got school in the morning," Miles says, as Keiko bundles Kira into the bed between them.

As Molly makes her way out, Keiko swings a lazy arm over Kira's back. "Sleep," she hums. "We'll be here in the morning."

Kira, feeling warm and cared for and more than a little overwhelmed, does.

[anxiousosaurus]

I tried to write this fic last year (I think) but my phone crashed and I lost the majority of it, so never felt like working with it more, but in honor of The Day, here's some of it:

Merlin looks down at Arthur, so pale compared to the golden shine he's supposed to have.

Even his hair looks duller.

Laid flat against the sticks, the scene looks altogether too wrong. This is not even close to what Arthur deserves.

Merlin can't take the sight of it any longer, so he holds out his trembling hand, preparing to say the words to send the boat out.

But what comes out instead is a spell last used as a gift for someone else he loved.

Flower after flower blooms around Arthur, all sorts of flowers, every kind Merlin can remember from hours spent studying Gaius' books.

Their meanings in the language of flowers comes back to him, remembrance, loss, grieving.

But also, love, care, fondness.

He can't stand the thought of Arthur going without having that with him, all the love they could never speak of until it was too late.

Merlin scrubs the tears from his eyes to make sure the sight is slightly closer to what Arthur deserved, even if he would've said all the flowers were too girly.

But there has been that time he'd asked where his flowers were.

And so here they are, lovingly embracing him as Merlin never could, until the end.

Merlin sends the boat away without another word, watching it carry his king off, keeping him safe until his time to return.

[fiapple]

i'm getting towards the end of the skypeia arc, & i'd like to say just how much i adore the way the female strawhats have been treated.

just... every aspect of how the way their characters have been previously contextualized influences the story-line is treated with a masterful amount of consideration. we're given so many layers to both of them that enrich not only their characters specifically, but the arc, and the one piece world as a whole. without nami & robin having their specific skills, and their specific values, without those being built upon, the story would have come to a halt.

you could not have skypeia without nami & robin being who they are as individuals. not just because they never would've gotten there without nami, but also because the way these women think is itself foundational to the machinations of the arc as a whole.

to be totally upfront, if you think any other strawhats were more central to the skypeia arc than nami & robin were you are full-on fucking lying to yourself.

[clowndensation]

there’s a question to be asked i think about to what extent “getting out” can be conflated with “being saved” in this show, and what freedom actually means to any of these characters.

like you can argue that shiv saved ken by voting against him on gojo, but what if your intent behind saving someone is to inflict a worse punishment than if you’d just left them trapped? can a child weaned on poison survive on milk, or are you just sentencing them to a death by inches, starved of the only thing they know? and if you save someone specifically because you know that being saved is the worst thing that can happen to them, is that kindness or cruelty? at what point does a good thing become a malicious act?

and you can say that roman is finally free, but what exactly is he free from? the company? his father? does unlocking a cage mean saving a dog, or are you allowing him out on the street knowing there’s a kill shelter nearby? if the driving anxiety behind roman is that he’s an idiot and a failure—that he’ll never amount to anything, and trying will only lead to pain—and he’s finally cut loose once all of those anxieties have crystallized into cold hard fact in his mind, what has he actually escaped from? if the cage is in your mind, is it even possible for somebody else to unlock it?

the fundamental truth of a tragedy is that even being saved can be a death sentence, if the characters are incapable of escaping the thing doing them the most harm (themselves and their childhoods)

[anghraine]

My best friend and I moved in together with his closest friend from his MA program, and while I had met her before (the friend; my bff is a man), we hadn't spent much time together because I've never lived away from the West Coast (and only two years out of the PNW) and she's never lived outside of North Carolina and only briefly visited the PNW once, when she went to Portland last year.

It's been a delight to show her around the PNW and realize we need to explain things that are just sort of omnipresent in our lives. The bff and I were casually griping with each other about having to run an errand to Trader Joe's at an inconvenient hour, and were telling her, "it's okay, you can stay in the car and avoid the people if you want" and she was like "NO I MUST SEE IT, I'VE ONLY HEARD OF THEM" and nearly ascended to another plane when we showed her around the store.

The bff and I grew up in the same town in NW Washington (him for his first 18 years, me from 9 to 19) and he lived in Bellingham and Seattle for years before he went to NC for grad school (I went to the SF Bay Area for mine, a very different experience). Both of them are hardcore coffee aficionados, but he struggled with the different Coffee Ways of the South, so for the true PNW experience they want to tour various indie coffeeshops next.

Also, she adores Kaidan in Mass Effect and we were like, oh, is your passport up to date? We could take a trip sometime and show you your boyfriend's beloved English Bay. It's very beautiful :)

her: O_O

me: Actually, it's worth going to Vancouver BC for its own sake as well, it's truly spectacular. We used to go all the time as kids.

bff: And Victoria!

her: O_O

[cepheusgalaxy]

ughhhhhhhhhhh why am i so prone to complaining

[meatmensch]

*jenny slate voice* i had to stop reading the battle of the labyrinth cuz it made me too crazy!!

[fideidefenswhore]

thinking more lately about how much outrage there was over AB 2021 and how that was also one of the more messily human AB portrayals in recent years...

[once-more-with-anxiety]

SOMEONE HELP ME MY MOM JUST ASKED ME WHETHER I WOULD PREFER A BOYFRIEND OR A GIRLFRIEND IM GONNA HAVE A PANIC ATTACK OHMYGOD SHIT

[volno-pesh]

" I have depression "

" I have daddy issues " / " - No, I just don't talk with my dad that much. " " - Pfffft!!! Daddy issues 😜😜😜😜 "

Characters development bitches

It's not enough to tell you have honestly quite serious problems, you like have to have them????

Imagine writing a story where nothing happens and characters just say " I have a [problem viv gave] "

Lucifer having depression is only brought up in this one line, and even then it’s played off as a joke. Nothing about his character aside from that indicates he has depression.

[glitter-stained]

Okay but wouldn't it have been funny if Jason came back to life and just straight up told the truth

Like, I understand why that's a terrible idea (we don't want Ra's al ghul wannabe immortality enthusiasts targeting traumatized innocent civilian Jason Todd who has "easy prey" written on his forehead) but still, this is a world in which people have come back to life several times, the mystery of Jason's resurrection is mysterious, but it's not unbelievable, and nothing about it compromises the bats. I can so see it backfire on him too.

Picture this:

Jason: What's the funniest way I can come back to life?

Duke: Tell the truth.

Jason: ??

Duke: Like, leave the compromising bits out obviously, but other than that, be 100% honest. They'll never believe you, and it's gonna drive Bruce crazy. With a little luck, we can get the vein on his forehead to jut out.

*****

Later:

Interviewer: So, why did you fake your death?

Jason, trained spy, theatre kid, shakespeare nerd extraordinaire: *puts on his traumatized young man face*

Jason: *ashened complexion*

Jason : *knee trembles*

Jason: *hand wraps around a rope burn scar around his wrist like reminding himself the rope is not there* (he let himself get kidnapped by BM's men to destroy that base of operations a week ago)

Bruce: Oh no

Jason: I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I did die. I don't - I remember it very well. I went to Ethiopia to find my birth mother in the hopes of learning to know her, but she took advantage of the situation to traffic me to- to a dangerous sociopath. He tortured me for hours, then turned on her, tied us up and left us to die in the explosion. I'm not sure how I came back... I woke up in my coffin, and then, well. I just dug my way up.

Interviewer: But why only come back to the public eye now?

Jason: Before I could make it home, I was taken in by a cult... They found me desoriented in the streets and I don't know, I guess they decided to take advantage. I... Sorry. Sorry, I'm not trying to- I didn't mean to cry. Um, please just-yeah. It's been a couple of difficult years, I guess.

Interviewer: I understand, this must have been very difficult for you. Thank you so much for sharing this with us, and I think I speak for all of Gotham when I say we believe you, support you, and are very relieved and happy you finally came home.

Jason: I'm sorry what?

The crowd: *enthusiastic noises of agreement*

Jason: what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck

Duke: lmao I can't believe that worked