#but then she asks Then why are you doing that and i say The Ulcers and she says So you’re not ok then

[little-eye-guy]

mom asked me what’s wrong and i said i’m tired and she asked why don’t i just go sleep. well on account of not being able to do that, mostly

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain x Curly

Previous - Part 7 - Next

Warning: Abortion mention.

You were watching the ultrasound you were doing on Anya, and you ran your hand over your face upon seeing the fetus.

"When"

Anya: "...I found out just before the crash..."

"Why didn't you tell me?" You turned to look at Curly on the stretcher and then saw Anya, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Anya: "For a moment I thought that... you wouldn't do anything for me either... and then, with all the responsibility you had on your shoulders... I didn't want to give you more problems."

"Why did you think I wasn't going to help you?"

Anya: "...You were always on the captain's side..."

"Well, when he had reasonable decisions, of course I agreed! Ugh... I don't want to talk about this now, let's focus on this now... How many weeks approximately?"

Anya: "...14 weeks..."

"Great, you're still on time. I know I ordered misoprostol, it must be somewhere."

Anya: "What's that?"

"It would help you to abort"

Anya: "How did you manage to get them to add that?"

"Well, I lied saying that some of the crew had gastric ulcers due to the consumption of aspirin to treat the inflammation caused by radiation when they had to go on walks outside the ship... And I sent Curly to ask for it so they didn't ask questions."

You mentioned searching through the cabinets for that medication until you found the tablet and handed it to her.

"I warn you that it's going to be hell, it's completely your decision, and I'll be with you to help you with all this."

You said, holding the pills while she watched you, slowly taking the box.

Anya: "How do you know?"

You fell silent and your eyes quickly moved to give Curly a glance, and then back to Anya, who understood immediately.

"Those are the side effects mentioned in the content if you take them when you are pregnant."

You told him right away and then sat down sighing.

Anya: "You look tired... Shall we grab a drink?"

You knew very well why he was saying that now, but you nodded to leave that place, not without first greeting your husband, letting him know you would be back soon.

Anya: "How was that?"

"I had gotten pregnant a few years ago, and we were about to make a new delivery, before that I asked Curly for a new load of medications, I was going to finish it myself on the ship."

Anya: "Why didn't you stay? Why didn't you do it in a safe way?"

"They keep an eye on everything you do, and they judge you. I wouldn't have gotten this job back, they would have done thousands of physical and mental tests to tell me I wasn't qualified to be co-captain... And I didn't want Curly to find out either."

You shrugged and took a seat while you prepared what was like hot chocolate, placing the powder in some cups and pouring water over them.

Anya: "Didn't he suspect anything?"

"I knew how to hide it, at that time there were only men on the ship, I lied saying it was my period, no one cared enough to ask more questions... Although Curly was very worried, he couldn't neglect his work that much either."

Anya: "...How was it? I want to know exactly what I'm going to face."

"...Hemorrhages, pelvic pain, depression, infections.... infertility"

You looked at the cup in your hands while saying this last part, taking a sip of its contents.

Anya: "...There aren't too many painkillers left in the nursery... Not for the three of us... Not for all this time we have to wait-"

She pressed her lips together as she placed her hand on her belly and tightened her uniform.

"Oh right, I haven't told you yet, the ship is heading to a Pony Express station, there we can ask for a rescue, we'll arrive in two more months."

Anya: "Even so, there aren't enough."

"I've already endured hell, I can do it again, don't worry about my dose."

Anya: "But-"

"Think about yourself! Please! Stop thinking about others!"

You slammed the cup against the table, causing a bit of the liquid to spill.

"It's your decision... Just...Decide... For you, not for others."

Anya: "Captain..."

You lifted your head upon hearing her say that, and you could see a small smile on her lips.

Anya: "Thank you"

[deathofacupid]

Don’t know if you take requests but something about gojo with an insecure, loser, socially anxious, nervous, pessimistic reader? Like in high school.. he is trying to get to know her, she thinks he is too good for her etc?? Plz

"stop following me," you mutter, a low scowl beneath your breath.

"what?" gojo scoffs, the sound exaggerated, a theatrical flourish. "i would never."

"quit that. i'm serious," you insist, your voice sharpening with a hint of exasperation.

"so am i!" he counters, his tone mirroring yours, but with an underlying playful lilt.

"go away."

"i happen to be heading the same direction," he replies, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

"oh, so, you have chemistry next?" you ask, gesturing with a flick of your wrist towards the looming science hall, its sterile windows reflecting the midday sun.

"…no," he admits, a momentary pause, then a quick recovery. "but, hey, can't a student drop by to say hi? to teachers that love him?" he emphasizes the word, a smirk playing on his lips.

"what teachers?" you ask, the words barely audible, a murmur lost in the hum of passing students.

"hey!" he exclaims, clutching his chest dramatically, feigning offense. "you know, i still don't know why you insist on hating me."

"i don't hate you," you correct him, your gaze fixed on a distant point, anything but his face. "i just strongly dislike being in your presence."

"that's, like, the same thing," he says, shrugging off your protest. "i like you, and i know you like me."

"bold assumption," you retort, a flicker of annoyance in your eyes. "just 'cause a girl exchanges a few syllables with you, doesn't mean she wants you."

"maybe not," he concedes, a sly grin spreading across his face. "but i'm pretty sure you're the exception."

"go. away," you repeat, pinching the bridge of your nose, attempting to quell the rising tide of frustration.

"c'monnn. you still haven't answered me!" he whines, his voice drawn out into a playful plea.

"and, if i do, you'll leave me alone?" you ask, your tone laced with skepticism.

"maybe," he replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"i'm not answering you, then."

"please?" he begs, widening his eyes into comical puppy-dog eyes, a classic gojo maneuver.

you stop in your tracks, turning to face him, the movement abrupt. "we don't work together, alright? it'd be weird."

"what?" he asks, his brow furrowing in genuine confusion. "why?"

you sigh, the sound heavy with exasperation. "do i really have to spell it out for you? you're all… you. and, i'm all… not you."

"so? what do they say? opposites attract?" he counters, his voice laced with a confident charm.

"jesus. you're hopeless. why can't you take 'no' for an answer?"

"because i'm a catch. who doesn't want a catch?"

"me."

"but, why?" he asks, his voice laced with a touch of sincere curiosity.

"i already explained this to you. it's not my fault you can't get it through that thick skull of yours."

"okay, first of all, mean. my skull is average-sized," he protests, a mock-injured tone in his voice. "and, second, yeah. i don't get it."

"gojo, look. you're a lot different," you pause, wincing slightly, "social-wise. i couldn't keep up with you. i don't do parties. or, like, talking."

he cuts you off, a wave of his hand dismissing your concerns. "then don't do parties. or, talking. i run my mouth enough for the both of us," he offers, a playful grin spreading across his face.

"there are prettier girls out there. go yearn for one of them."

he makes an ulcer-inducing buzzer noise, a loud, obnoxious bzzzt! "nope, there's not. you're the prettiest of them all," gojo sing-songs, his voice laced with a playful melody. "pretty, and smart, and kind —well, we'll work on that part. but, you're perfect. don't start making up reasons to get me to leave. it won't work anyways."

"you're insufferable," you sigh, the sound a mixture of exasperation and reluctant amusement, though the flush creeping up your neck betrays your true feelings.

he takes your hand in his, his touch warm and surprisingly gentle, and you don't pull it away. "you don't have to change who you are, just to be with someone who's not the same as you. besides, you're throwing away what we could have, without even trying."

you chew your lip, the nervous habit betraying your inner turmoil. it feels like a horrible idea, a collision of personalities that could end disastrously.

but, you've never been good at resisting him, his charm a persistent, inescapable force. "i don't know," you say, finally, the words laced with uncertainty.

"i do, though. so, why don't you trust me?" he asks, his eyes locking with yours, a depth of emotion in their blue depths.

he pulls you closer, his hand gently tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. and, you do. you do trust him, in all his annoying, infuriating, and undeniably captivating glory.

banner credits to @/im4yeons <33

[cameronspecial]

Maybe high school/college au where rafe is in a group of bullies that always picks on reader, However he tries to tell them to stop every time but one day he sees her crying in the bathroom at a Halloween party because his friends told her costume was ugly and it made her look fat, he gets super mad and he yell at them and beat the shit out of his ex friend for calling her fat, after he brings her back home and she ask him why he cared and he says something like ���I’ve liked you since first day of second grade in middle school when you came in class with your little bow in your hair” 🥰🥰

Shit Friends

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Swearing, Use of Fat In Deragotory Way, and a Fight.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Y/N has been excited about Marissa’s Halloween party for weeks. Her Halloween costume is a beautiful white dress that she worked all month to sew. She is going to the party as a bride and the dress is a reflection of what she wants her wedding dress to look like one day. She is so proud of her costume. Her hand grips the solo cup and she bops her head to the music. She feels their presence behind her like an ulcer she knows is there but can’t feel. Her head doesn’t turn in their direction, trying to ignore them. “Look at this boys, this fat fuck thinks someone is going to want to marry her. Not only is her dress ugly, but her face looks like a cow,” Marshall snarls, pulling back her head by her veil. Her tears come up her tear ducts and she feels how her hair pulls back with his action. Oliver shakes his head, “Nah, Marsh. She looks like a whale. I don’t know how anyone could want to marry her.” Their insults can’t continue because someone else enters the room, allowing her to make her escape to the bathroom.

——

After one too many beers, Rafe finally has to break his bladder seal and go to the bathroom. He tries the door but is met with resistance from the lock. His hand knocks on the door yet no one answers. He knows someone is in there because he can hear movement inside. His ear presses to the door and he can make out the cries of a girl. “I know you are in there. Please, let me in. I got to pee,” Rafe calls out. 

Y/N recognizes his voice. Of course, she would. Not only is Rafe one of the most popular boys at school, but he is friends with her serial tormentors. Rafe is never around when the other boys bully her, yet she still doesn’t know if she can trust him. She feels bad though that he needs to pee so she unlocks it for him. He hears the lock turn and opens the door. Even though he has to pee, he pauses when he sees Y/N. Her costume looks absolutely amazing. He can tell the dress is handmade because of how well it suits her body and some of the embroidery looks hand-stitched. It looks incredible. His mind can’t help imagining her walking down the aisle to him at the end of it. He remembers he heard the cries of the person behind the door and since she is the one in the bathroom, he knows she has been crying. His eyes find hers to see her makeup running down her face, close to ruining her dress. 

He abandons his need to pee and rushes to her side. “Who made you cry?” he questions with anger at that person in his voice. She tries to keep it a secret, but he keeps prying. Finally, she snaps, “It was Marshall and Oliver. They said my dress was ugly and made me look like a fat whale.” Just like she thought he would, Rafe leaves without a care for what she said. 

The yelling is what catches her attention, so she goes outside to find Rafe punching Marshall and Oliver in the face. “Never. Say. Those. Words. To. Y/N. Again. Understand?” Each word he said was punctuated by a hit to his face. He looks up at her, shaking out his hand. “Why do you care enough about what they said to hurt them like that, Rafe?” “Y/N, I’ve liked you since the first day of second grade in elementary school. You came into class with your little embroidered bows at the end of your two braids. I was mesmerized by how good you were at sewing,” he confesses and takes a step closer to her. She is still a little confused, “But they're your friends.” “Eh, I’ve got shit friends. But who needs them when I hopefully have you?” he states, rushing toward her to kiss her. She lets her lips meet his and he feels like his dreams are coming true. 

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

[downbadumu]

it's not like your head is an erogenous zone but more like it's cuz caleb's touching your head :)

༄𓏸ଳ˚࿔⋆ content summary: mature themes, set in a vague au during a vague time because i can’t decide if this is canon compliant or an au, unhinged behaviour, caleb is his own warning (so be warned), something weird about having your hair washed (i swear im not weird), sexual tension (i hope), nothing happens though hehe, psuedocest, caleb’s definition of a gege/meimei dynamic, author hasn’t written in a while so bear with me but like I had to get this out my nogging, not beta read + lowercase because im too lazy

༄𓏸ଳ˚࿔⋆ word count: 1446

༄𓏸ଳ˚࿔⋆ shanna's notes: i'm now, once again, asking the lurkers of tumblr to hit up my askbox for requests so that i may be creative for the sake of my sanity

caleb’s never been a believer of the whole love language spiel; sure, he loves receiving gifts from you, hell, he has kept receipts you’ve unconsciously passed to him countless of times. yeah, hearing a simple praise from your mouth could send him into a spiral and have him cumming in his pants. but he’s so smitten with you anyways, there’s nothing you do or don’t do that he can’t love. and there’s nothing he won’t do for you.

so that’s why he’s standing right next to you as the lady from the salon is washing your hair despite being told that the wash area is restricted to customers getting the service only. it’s stupid because what do they think was going to happen? let you be by your lonesome at the back of a very public salon? absolutely not. it wasn’t anything a very charming smile couldn’t fix, however.

he knows you know that he’s watching you like a hawk despite his nonchalant stance and casual conversation. you’re talking about that new donut place that opened up last week a street away from the salon and how you’d like to visit it sometime soon so he offers to take you there once you’re done here. he chews on the inside of his cheek as he feels his blood wanting to rush down to his cock when you smile at his suggestion. god, you are just everything to him.

you’re probably trying to think of something else to say to fill the silence, but you’re starting to really relax into the scalp massage the hairdresser is giving you. his eyes expertly take in every miniscule movement of yours, from how you readjust yourself for the sake of your hairdresser’s ease (you really are a saint) to the tiny twitches, shudders and deep breaths you probably aren’t even aware of as she scratches your hairline that’s probably making your spine tingle. jealousy shoots through caleb like lighting and suddenly his laid-back smile wasn’t as easy to keep anymore. still, he scrutinises every movement of yours and the hairdresser’s, committing this too to his memory so that he can be the one that washes your hair next time.

he doesn’t make you wait long for it, though, he has your favourite haircare products ready to do the next time when your hair was due for a wash. your little squeal was worth the huge ulcer he bit into his cheek.

“i think the donuts weren’t that great,” you said.

“you like the ones from that shop by the train station don’t you?” he answered with a hum, eyes trailing your figure wrapped in nothing but a stupid towel. “they’re fresher.”

“yeah! they’re not actual donuts though,” you were sat in front of him on a small stool, hands fiddling with the conditioner bottle caleb put next to you when he sat down on his own stool. “bombolone.”

he hummed in acknowledgment while putting shampoo in your hair. “i could swing by and get them before coming back home tomorrow.”

you giggled coyly. “you’re the best, gege.”

“only for the you,” he countered.

caleb’s smiles grew as he watched you form a jab in your head but was quickly replaced by a pleasurable tingle that crawled up to your upper spine when he gently traced his fingers on your hairline. experimentally, he tapped his fingers lightly along it before scratching lightly at your scalp before transitioning back into a massage. he could practically feel the wheels in your head turning under his fingertips.

“i’ll get the mini ones, i heard they were doing a sale on a half a dozen,” he said cooly.

“mm,” you replied weakly, almost sounding like a moan, and caleb thought about biting another ulcer into his cheek.

he mimicked that hairdresser’s movements perfectly; it wasn’t hard to see what made your skin crawl with goosebumps and how your breathing hitches at this distance. of course, he was better than her, he knew your better than yourself, everything he does is tailored specifically to you.

“caleb,” you started as he ran his fingers from the top of your head to the back of your neck. he hummed, waiting for all the cogs to turn so you could form a coherent sentence.

he waited too long though, there was a chit in your voice when you said, “since when were you an expert at washing hair, huh? have you been washing someone else’s hair?”

he chuckled, fingers moving in quicker and harder succession to sparsely scratch at your scalp. something you seem to enjoy as another shudder runs through your body. “you doing good, meimei? you’re shivering a lot, is it getting cold?” he asked in fake sympathy.

“i’m fine,” you answered curtly, lips jutting out in a pout that he desperately has been wanting to bite away.

he doesn’t say anything else, because he’s too busy fighting his own shiver crawling up his spine. he’s happy when you’re happy, hurting when you’re sad, and livid when you’re upset. it’s natural that he takes pleasure in your pleasure. caleb’s fingers work expertly, alternating between light tapping, medium pressure circular motions, hard and too fast scratches that has you chewing your lips and balling your hands into fists. he relishes in the fact that your body relaxes at the familiar movements but you trying so hard to fight back your sighs.

really, he can’t help but get into it. besides, he has read something about scalp massages being good for your hair growth and stress relief and all sorts of good things he can’t conjure up now; every fibre of his being hyper fixated on you. it’s absolutely not his fault when he so gently tugs at the strands at the back of your neck to get your shivering body closer to his almost too warm one.

“fuck,” he almost doesn’t hear your curse. you’re getting a little too good at hiding things from him, he’ll have to fix that soon. not now though, he’s busy keeping a mental record of everything you’re trying to suppress as he glides his hands slippery from the suds down your thin beautiful neck for a massage. too busy to even think about the tightness in his pants.

lightly, slowly, delicately, his hands went back up from your shoulders, to the base of your neck, up the back of your head. one hand taps his way to the front of your head along your jaw while the other traced its way back up to the top of your head with light massages. too gentle, too fleeting, something he knew you’d hate, now that you would curse at him in your head for. he tilted your head back firmly, the sudden change in pressure made your suck in a breath. he was eager to drink in the look in your eyes but you had them screw shut. the thought of patting your cheek hard enough for you to glare up at him crossed his mind but it’s ok, next time.

caleb then picks up the showerhead that was filling up the tub. subtly, he tested the temperature before rinsing out the shampoo with deliberately slow movements. he needed you to feel every trickle of warm water. this time you couldn’t hold back your sigh.

“warm?” he asked, voice as parched as he was.

“yeah.”

“good,” he cooed, gently repositioning you so you’re leaning against one his thigh like a makeshift shampoo bowl. “you’re doing your hair mask today, no? i left the barley on the stove, so after this you’re on your own.”

your eyes snapped open, the spell breaking along with it. “what?! you can’t do things halfway, gege!”

with practise ease, he smiled down at your pleading eyes and flushed face. “you’ll be fine,” he crooned. “besides, you’ll be out in no time, you can have barley while you wait for the mask to do its thing.”

you pout again and he takes the opportunity to look while he reaches over you to grab your hair mask. “close your eyes,” he said, and you do. caleb doesn’t bother biting back his grin as he applied the mask on your hair.

he watched you try not to get used to his touches again, knowing he’s about to leave to your own devices. your eyebrows furrowed; hands balled into fists again but for a different reason. when he was done, he let you lay on his leg sulking as he washed off his hands, then he gently guided you back up into a sitting position, warm lips brushing against the tip of your cold ear.

“i’ll go heat up the barley for you.”

[elene78-blog]

I think that after the jerejean and the andreil, my favorite ship would be the jeaneil.

Okay, just think about this idea.

Nathaniel was thrown into the Nest shortly after Jean, because Nathan finds Mary and kills her. Jean is still number 3 and Nathaniel is number 4. Nathaniel is a mad dog that Riko cannot tame, and Jean, although he has been relatively docile after the first 5 months there completely alone, regains some of his initial fierceness because Nathaniel infected him with yours.

They both suffer the "domestication" of those 5. Nathaniel stops being so haughty because he knows that Jean will suffer the consequences, but Jean, not being alone and being able to talk to someone in the same situation, someone as fierce as his companion, does not lose hope or rebellion. The two lower their heads in front of Riko, but they are not finished. They are a firm pillar for each other.

Jean doesn't try to commit suicide because he has a partner. The two of them are together in this torture.

When the Ravens overtake Neil on the court after Jean's growth spurt, Jean attacks them with violent tackles and hurts them so much that they don't try again. When Grayson becomes “infatuated” with Jean after being "domesticated," Nathaniel puts rat poison in his food, causing a severe ulcer and burns to her digestive tract. The Ravens are much more careful about what they say and do, because they know that Nathaniel is unpredictable and unhinged.

Everything is going "fine", but then Kevin starts giving Jean postcards, magnets, starts distracting the other Ravens so they can take a break from the beatings they receive, and he asks Jean to teach him French.

Jean accepts because she really likes Kevin. Nathaniel doesn't see anything strange at first because Kevin is the player he admires the most, but when he sees Jean smiling looking at his postcards, Nathaniel feels bad.

He can't give Jean postcards because he's locked up there, just like him. And those magnets... why do they want magnets for anyway? They are stupid.

He doesn't understand why Jean looks at Kevin so much, nor at some girls on the team that way. Is it because of sex? They "tamed" him and it was horrible and humiliating, why would he care after that?

But Jean keeps getting postcards while Nathaniel gives her the ones he gets because Kevin is an idiot and he doesn't want his damn gifts out of pity.

Jean and Nathaniel fight more and more. Nathaniel warns Jean about Kevin. Warn him that he is too close to Riko and that Riko won't like Jean looking at Kevin so much. He tells him that Kevin is with Thea. He tells him that Kevin is not going to get him out of there to show him the places on his damn postcards.

Jean tells Nathaniel that he wants them both to go with Kevin when they graduate. Nathaniel yells for Jean to go with him, because he doesn't plan to go with them.

Nathaniel and Jean stop talking to each other.

And then, it happens.

Riko breaks Kevin's hand. Kevin speaks in French in front of Riko with Jean, he asks Jean to distract him and Kevin leaves.

Riko and Tetsuji believe that Jean is complicit in Kevin's escape.

Riko lunges at Jean like a madman and Nathaniel gets between the two, but Riko no longer has a partner to calm him down and it's pure anger.

Nathaniel is sent to solitary confinement for three months because Riko knows that he is the influence bothering Jean's taming. Nathaniel almost lost his mind in there thinking about what they were doing to his partner while he was gone. He becomes unhinged, crazy. He hasn't been a day without Jean around in years and he's starting to lose his mind. Having no one talk to you for three months in a dark room does not help your mental stability.

Jean is all broken bones, deep cuts, and panicking over the water when Nathaniel comes out. His rebellion has faded and Nathaniel doesn't know if he will get it back.

Nathaniel can't do anything against Riko and Tetsuji, because if he tries, they will attack his partner. He doesn't want anyone to get close to his partner after this. But Nathaniel needs someone to hate.

Nathaniel swears he will kill Kevin Day for what he has done.

(English is not my native language, sorry).

[mediumgayitalian]

“Halt!”

Across the common, three suspicious figures freeze, glance behind them, and then resume walking as casually as they can.

“I said halt! Do not move! Cease all function!”

Milling nervously towards each other, Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest pause, shifting the three massive cardboard boxes they hold each.

“Hi, Annabeth,” Will says, smiling innocently. Cecil and Lou Ellen match him, eyes wide, expressions angelic.

Annabeth stomps over to them, arms crossed tightly over her chest. She is entirely unmoved by the cherubic display in front of her. Nico stays right where he is, hidden by the shade of Cabin Eight.

“Explain yourselves,” Annabeth orders.

The three stooges exchange a look.

“Whatever do you mean,” Lou Ellen asks, shifting the boxes to free up her hand only to place it delicately over her chest. “Why, we are only helping our dear friend William —”

“Our dear, dear friend,” Cecil adds.

“— carry these many boxes of medical supplies, so as to lower his great burden —”

“Massive burden,” Will says sagely.

“— and free up his evening in order for him to spend his limited time with us, his most cherished friends.”

“Especially cherished,” Will and Cecil chorus together.

Unable to bite back a smile, Nico rolls his eyes so hard his skull hurts. They’re not even trying to not get caught, at this point.

Clearly agreeing, Annabeth scoffs. “Yeah, right. Boxes down, all three of you. You’re being detained for suspected illicit substances.”

“Annabeth!” Will cries, mock outraged, “after all I do for this camp, you would accuse me of being — illicit?! Me?! The outrage! The insult! The impugn, the —”

“Can it, Solace. Open the boxes.”

Huffing in perfect unison, the three of them carefully lower their boxes to the ground.

“Tape off.”

Intentionally slowly, they run a nail along the edge of the packing tape.

“Flaps open, guys, c’mon.”

With flourish, the trio fling open the thin cardboard panels. Inside each box is rows of bandages, packaged syringes, sterile bands, tongue compresses, and more that Nico can’t name.

“See?” says Cecil, gesturing grandly. “The shipment just came in from my dad.”

Annabeth’s eyes narrow. “Your dad is in a conference with the rest of the Olympians right now, Markowitz.”

“Well,” Cecil says, and then nothing else.

“He meant it in the royal sense,” Lou Ellen pipes up in his silence. Cecil nods frantically. “You know, ‘just’ as in, like, recently, as in this morning —”

“Do you three think I’m stupid —”

“It’s just medical supplies! You can look through them if you want —”

Even if they weren’t acting like criminals, Nico knows his friends. He knows his boyfriend, especially, and recognises that damn look on his face. He can also physically see Annabeth’s stress ulcer coming back.

Closing his eyes, Nico fades into Cabin Six’s shadow. It’s a quick jump, so the stretch is easy, and the darkness bows easily to his hold. He reappears silently behind the group, taking advantage of the setting sun, and darts out to grip Lou Ellen’s arm.

“Boo,” he whispers.

She shrieks at the top of her lungs, jumping three clean feet in the air. Coincidently, the boxes of medical supplies flicker, turning into a truly baffling amount of instant mashed potato boxes as her grip on the Mist loosens.

“I knew it!” Annabeth shouts.

On cue, all three doofuses turn to Nico, jeering and complaining about ‘ruining the fun’. Nico’s glare is ineffective on Doofus #1, but the other two can be cowed. He focuses on channelling the flames of hell to reflect in his eyes like his father showed him until they look away, muttering at the ground.

“We still don’t have any illicit substances,” Will insists, glaring right back. Nico sticks out his tongue. He crosses his eyes like a four year old. How immature, honestly. “So we’re just gonna take our stuff and —”

“Absolutely not, Golden Boy. Put that hand away.”

Wisely, Will draws slowly back from the boxes, tucking his hands in his pocket.

Annabeth stares, hard, at the three of them, flicking her dark eyes from the potatoes and back. The tips of her worn-out converse tap slowly on the packed grass, tip-tap-tip-tap, as they all squirm.

Understanding suddenly dawns on her.

“It’s supposed to rain tomorrow, for the strawberry plants.”

They squirm harder.

“Oh, you godsdamn bitches.”

“It would’ve been really funny,” Cecil mumbles, staring at the ground. “Rain making the ground turn into a sea of mashed potatoes. Like Cloudy With A Chance Of Meatballs.”

“The only meatballs around here are the ones clogging up your skull!” Annabeth shouts, which doesn’t quite make sense but sounds clever coming from her anyway. “Who was gonna clean that up, huh? Magic?”

“I mean, probably,” Lou Ellen says, promptly shutting up at Annabeth’s glare.

“And you, Will! I cannot believe! Where is that responsibility you’re known for, huh?”

Will pouts. “I can be responsible and do fun things.”

“Fun, he says. I’m going to fucking kill you. The one day I’m left in charge, I cannot believe —”

“If it helps, it’s less about you and more about April Fools being tomorrow,” Cecil interjects tentatively. “Like, we were going to do this whether or not Chiron left.”

Annabeth glares darkly. “Of fucking course you were. It’s always you three, I swear to the gods. I should have known.”

“It’s honestly kind of embarrassing for you guys, stopped before you’re even started,” Nico adds. He smiles smugly at them, relishing in their rolled eyes and mocking hands. “Like, everyone expected this. You did this to yourselves, honestly.”

“Boo, you jag,” Lou Ellen protests. The other two knuckleheads joint in the booing, Will taking it an extra stop forward and blowing a raspberry, both thumbs pointing down. Nico responds with a bright grin and two middle fingers.

“Enough,” Annabeth says, rubbing her temples. “Extra chores, all three of you. Go help the cleaning harpies until sundown. And not another peep of complaint or I’ll have you on chores tomorrow, too.”

Without another glance at them, she turns around and walks away, muttering at least you caught it early at least you caught it early at least you caught it early over and over to herself.

“Pretty sure you guys have physical labour to do,” Nico says brightly when she disappears into the Big House. “I’d get started on that, if I were you.”

“Butthead,” Cecil mutters.

“Kiss-ass,” Lou Ellen agrees, making a face.

“Traitor,” Will whispers, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he walks past.

Nico watches them go, standing guard over the boxes in case they try to come back for them.

He can’t help but think that they all look a little too jovial for having their plans ruined before they even started.

[thedemonofcat]

Imagine, if you will, a modern w/o magic Witcher au where Geralt coparents Ciri with his ex Yennefer.

Little Ciri notices that a lot of adults have partners (most of the parents of her classmates do, and so does Yennefer). She asks Geralt why he doesn’t have a partner, and Geralt doesn’t really know how to respond. “Haven’t found the right person.”

“Who’s the right person?”

Fuck if Geralt knows. “Someone kind. Smart. Likes kids.”

“And pretty?”

“Sure.”

Thus, begins Ciri’s epic quest to find Geralt’s partner. This consists of tactics such as: interviewing strangers, asking her mom to find them (her mom is good at finding things), and wishing REALLY hard.

The amount of strangers Ciri has been talking to is giving Geralt an ulcer. And his ex tried to make him download a dating app.

Eventually, Ciri gets very upset that the universe has not provided her dad a partner. She will give the universe one last chance though. She will throw a coin in this fountain and wish REALLY hard.

Only, disaster! She drops her coin, and it rolls down a sewer grate. She can’t help but burst into tears.

Then, the man who was playing guitar by the fountain asks her what’s wrong. Ciri tells him that she wanted to make a wish in the fountain. The man nods his head in understanding and says she can have a coin from his guitar case in exchange for a dandelion bouquet.

She picks him dandelions and gets her coin. She makes her wish. The guitar man makes a crown from the dandelions and puts it atop his head. The guitar man tells her he hopes she gets her wish. He was smart to not ask her what it is. After all, wishes don’t come true if you say them out loud.

WAIT.

Ciri takes a closer look at the guitar man with his dandelion crown. “You’re pretty.”

“Oh, well, thank you!”

Geralt is out in the park with his family, and he realizes Ciri was not playing with Eskel’s kids like he thought. Fuck.

Thankfully, she’s nearby. Talking to another stranger. Geralt sighs deeply.

“Ciri.”

“Dad! I found him!”

“Who?”

Ciri points at the man she was talking to, some busker with a guitar, and says, “Your partner.”

This is a wonderful concept for a story. I highly encourage you to develop it further as I would definitely be interested in reading it.

[that-left-turn]

Long time no see. Hope you're fine and enjoying time with your loved ones.

The fandom has been really quite lately. The excitement has been gone since S2 dropped and S3 doesn't look that much promising either.

How could it be? Not only are DZ and GN not Caryl fans but NR one of the biggest hater, of Carylers and the ship. He literally said, that he played Daryl like a kid during the Terminus reunion and at Carol's house near the kingdom, "He (Daryl) was like a child who asked his mother why did she leave". As opposed to saying he played Daryl romantically during the Beth scene.

So the Caryl spin off was scrapped because Caryl was never supposed to happen but they brought Carol back because of the fans and low numbers? They're gonna drag us along but never give us what we want because they simply don't want to. Why bring Carol back when they know there will be more critic than positive reactions at all?

Thanks anon, I hope your holiday season is festive and bright 🎄🎊🍾

For the longest time, Norman has wanted to work his way out from the shadow which Melissa's acting casts, so it's not so much that he hates the ship itself as that he resents being defined by Caryl. With poor Emily, he was the stronger actor, but he'll never be the one earning the accolades vis-à-vis Melissa. It's also been eyecatchingly frightful since the early seasons that Norman spouts a lot of nonsense in regards to character motivation and arcs. (He has deplorable story instincts and shouldn't be allowed to have creative control.) Everything he says is to grab attention as Norman, cool dude—not to benefit Daryl's character development or any kind of narrative integrity.

In other words, there are different agendas at work. The stooges want to tell conventional stories about heroic white dudes with interchangeable side piece love interests who perish the moment they no longer service the male main character's arc. A segment of AMC execs favor these white tales or are trying to keep the noise down by keeping Reedus happy. Some of the studio execs do understand that the show needed Melissa/Carol, but they also seem to have hoped that bringing her back would be enough. That they could have their cake and eat it too.

Without a new showrunner—someone who cares about the inherited characters and who knows how to plot—nothing will change. Caryl fans will get dragged along because AMC will market to you, but they won't give you the payoff they tease. Zabel owes Norman (and Nicotero) for the opportunity and won't want a power struggle he doesn't have the clout to win. He hasn't worked for years prior to this gig, so he has no capital to leverage with the studio and he doesn't have the skill to pull off a mature romance worthy of these two characters, even if he did try to write it.

I know everyone's sick to death of hearing me say this, but Zabel is both a bad writer and a horrible showrunner. The amount of time it takes for this production to shoot six episodes is something that would give me night terrors and an ulcer if I was involved. The very vocal fanbase would have any showrunner worth their salt reevaluating their priorities. An aversion to a ship isn't a hill a showrunner wants their career to die on. Done right, Caryl canon could produce enough noise in the right circles that the writer would get invited to pitch other projects.

[tawked]

So at the end of Grant Morrison's run on Animal Man, Buddy escapes the confines of the comic's text and enters the meta-text, where he passes through the valley of discarded but still owned DC characters into another fictional universe where he meets a fictionalised version of Grant Morrison. This Morrison is characterized as an indifferent god able to do anything to Buddy because Buddy is a fictional character, but who is, like the reader, concerned more with their own real life, ie. seizing the opportunity to tell the audience to donate to animal rights groups.

Morrison explains to Buddy that he's going to be rebooted or altered by the new writer coming in to start their run. Buddy asks why, if a sentient being designed his life, it was full of conflict and misery. Famously, Morrison answers that it had to be, because comics are "mature" now, and maturity apparently means cruelty, in a tone that condemns the idea.

I love this and think it's one of the few times that superhero comic books, often formulaic and somewhat dead-behind-the-eyes pulp stories produced by committee and owned by no human being, transcend their whole corporate art-for-profit weird Andy Warhol vibe and actually become literature, just in how abrasive, pretentious and prepared to reject the audience this all is.

Anyway, with that said, I sincerely wish I could see a scene like this where fictional Gail Simone explains directly to late 2000s Barbara Gordon's face that she's going to be rebooted and her disability reduced from a permanent mobility condition, to two years in a chair. All of that worry about pressure ulcers and sepsis, unimportant. All of that futile time spent in rehabilitation trying to build muscles that her severed nerves would never reach again, suddenly just a prolonged cure, like an especially bad broken bone. Her self-imposed isolation after the injury, where she could barely talk to what had been her closest friends, an understandable but kind of pointless prolonged emo phase. Re-learning to be comfortable being perceived, after a youth spent being looked down on and even ignored by everybody including her own father for being a short young woman, because the same presumption of incompetence will likely be magnified by the presence of the chair? Just take a gap year and spend some time smokin bowls and playing Elden Ring, 'cause it's all about patience now.

And Barbara, being the Oracle, someone driven by curiosity and her eidetic, hyperthymesic mind, of course asks why she's being cured after so much time - from 1988 to 2011 - in the chair. Being disabled is in many ways horrible and people who associate some kind of patience or superhuman virtue with it are indeed often just either attempting to cope with their own trauma as disabled people, or projecting something comfortable onto disability as a way of making themselves, as able-bodied observers, feel better about it. Barbara specifically has always been especially literal and realistic about her disability. It does not make her a better person, but she knows she would never have built the Oracle network if she was not inspired by her need to do something and inability to make that "something" jumping off of rooftops. But why now, after two decades, is she being cured?

And Gail attempts that shit she did in real life where instead of saying "because the editors think it'll renew sales," she explains that actually it's problematic that Barbara was never healed via Wonder Woman's Purple Ray or whatever and that Barbara needs to stand up and be strong woman like every other woman in DC. The wheelchair, you see, is sexist. It is sexist for a woman to be disabled in this fictional universe.

I like this idea because it'd be the first time we could PROVE Gail Simone actually had a conversation with a disabled woman, albeit a fictional Gail Simone and a fictional disabled woman, so that fictional disabled woman could FINALLY be the one to ask Gail,

what the fuck is your problem with the idea of a bitch in a chair?

"I became Oracle because I needed to do something, I couldn't just abandon the fight and ignore the violence people of Gotham were facing, but I couldn't do it physically any more. The wheelchair is, in a way, core to the reason I became Oracle and achieved far, far more than I ever did or could do in tights - working beyond Gotham and across the world.

What does it say when you take that story and give it to a younger version of me who can walk, because you think my wheelchair is harmful to women? To say, a walking person would also have this idea and do it in exactly the same way, perhaps better, than her disabled self ever did?

That disabled peoples' stories must constantly be justified for fear of erasure, in the same way people used to demand justification for women doing things instead of men in these same stories?"

And then they KUNG FU FIGHT

Barbara flies out of the chair with a RISING DRAGON KICK to knock the glasses right off of Simone's face but Simone's ready. She enters the code UP UP DOWN BACK BACK TRIANGLE and shoots a purple boring ray out of her fucking nostrils, turning Barbara into Just Another Bat Character forever. Barbara stands there in her new tights in the iconic "Jason is dead" pose, clutching he knowledge that her stories would be kind of bland and generic at least until Rebirth, crying "nnnnnooooooooo!"

[mysticgeekzartz]

Honey's relationships with the neighbors!

I forgot to do this on her introduction post but I decided to do this with Honey because I thought it would be interesting to explore how her relationships would be with the other neighbors and I'm going to explain how she feels about them because I mean yeah the arrows can only tell you so much that I just want to talk about them because I love talking about my OCs I also decided to put some quotes down that she'd probably say to the neighbors as well hehe

Honey and Julie: So honey is pretty neutral to Julie because there has been instances where Julie had crashed into her window her display case or has destroyed her display case while playing games with Frank She knows it's an accident which is why she usually forgives Julie but it's happened so often that sometimes it can stress her out a little bit when she can be wondering Oh goodness she's playing one of her games again hopefully she doesn't destroy my display case this time 😅

"dang nabbit Julie this is the fourth time this week you crash into my display case can't you play a game that doesn't fling you across the neighborhood I swear this girl's going to give me more gray hairs than an old dog"

Honey and Sally: their relationship is pretty complicated I mean Honey tolerates her but there's also a disdain for her as well because honey thinks she's over dramatic and takes things out of proportion She knows it's in her character but sometimes it's gets a little annoying for her and they butt heads quite often, I like to headcanon that in the last welcome home update with all the audios and the one where Sally is asking Poppy to make her a huge gigantic cake I like to headcanon that she went to honey first but honey refused because she thought it was a waste of cake especially if it was only going to be used on stage and not to care about the flavor and only the design which let them having an argument about it which is why She had to go to Poppy to get the cake and Sally just thinks honey is fake She thinks that she fakes being a southern belle that she isn't really sweet at all She just pretends to be for attention

"Sally, darlin' I ain't going to be wasting a huge cake just for you to vaunt it on stage and nobody's going to eat it now that's just a waste of cake And I ain't going to be wasting perfectly good sweets just to show it off for one of your shows I reckon you go somewhere else if you want a showpiece"

Honey and Poppy: I feel like they would be best friends because they both like to bake I feel like they would have tea parties together and bake with each other especially if honey has a day off from the bakery they just relax and have tea together and of course if Poppy's having one of her panic attacks I feel like she would try to calm her down be like

"now now Ms. Poppy, You can't make yourself, worried sick, Because just like dirt and stains, sugar worries and problems will wash away, now take some breathers before you give yourself an ulcer"

Honey and Eddie: originally when I first made her she was a cousin to Eddie like through their mothers they were related And I still view them as that as my head cannon As you can see they're designs are very slightly similar when you look at them but you can still tell that honey is her own character I've been think they would be very close Because of their work ethic and that they would talk in their countryisms like I like to think they're talk out in public speaking countries and when a random neighbor passes by they're just be so freaking confused about what the hell they were talking about, And they'll just be staring at them like what are they even talking about I also think honey would also make Eddie take breaks because she's worried he's going to pass out or something like and she would always deliver sweets and pastries to his office so he can have energy to keep going throughout the day and she'll always like remind him You better be relaxing or at least come into my bakery for a blonde roast with a bear claw (which is a type of pastry)

"Eddie, You better be taking brakes because if you're tuckered out you'll be just as useful as a sedan chair on a railway So you better rest up and eat them bear claws to give you some energy or come over to my bakery and I treat you to a blonde roast with whatever pastry you like because you deserve a break from all that galavanting around the neighborhood trying to get everyone's mail on time"

Honey and Home: personally honey thinks home is very creepy every time she delivers Wally a baked apple She feels like home is just staring into her soul She sometimes thinks she's maybe overreacting but she just can't shake the feeling that home is always watching her and home senses that too which is why they probably don't like her either but again she always just gets this strange feeling every time she's around home

"I swear every I deliver treats to Wally I just can't shake the feeling that Home is #;&(_#(_!#9&!)_" (that was meant to be a glitch)

(Just a reminder none of that is Canon All this is all head cannons)

Honey and Wally: Honey likes Wally well enough he always is with Barnaby when he comes to the shop and always willing to give Wally a cup of tea and a baked apple She finds it funny that Wally gets confused when he sees an apple pie or an apple turnover, fritter ect So she made it to the point where she makes him a baked apple because it's still in the Apple form just baked So while he won't be confused and can enjoy apple treats even if he doesn't necessarily eat them She does it to make him happy And Wally has made her some art pieces around the shop which she's very grateful for

"Wally how many times do I have to tell you when it comes to making Apple desserts I usually have to cut and peel the apples up so the other neighbors can easily eat them, but for you sugarcube you always get a baked apple So you can enjoy like everyone else in this bakery"

Honey and Howdy: So their relationship is very complicated originally honey was made to be a ship for Howdy in my roleplay which I still do ship them because It holds a special place in my heart and it's just a reminder of how I created Honey That's why it's so special I like to believe that it's all like love-hate between them because they are extremely competitive with each other because their businesses are literally right next to each other So they could be very competitive whether that is seeing how many customers they can serve in a certain amount of time limit or to see how much stock that they can sell Well in this case it's usually bread and pastries store-bought versus fresh bakery made and usually they are very competitive and sometimes they'll even call each other names honey calling him an uncouth con man And how do you making fun of her height or calling her an a northern belle (definition of northern bell: rough diamond. unsophisticated woman. boorish lady.) which usually sets her off but deep down I feel like they really like each other's work ethic because they both work hard and own businesses and they really care about each other no matter how competitive they can get and how much they insult each other and get underneath each other's skin Because none of them takes crap from another she's witty and willing to put Howdy's words back in his mouth

"well Mista Pillar, If I didn't know any better I would say you quite jealous of my shop the fact that people rather buy my baked goods over your overly processed bread and cookies from a factory Well it's not my fault that the neighbors have good taste Darlin' "

Honey and Barnaby: I like to think she like some enough but there are some points of Barnaby that she doesn't really care for for his personality at times she sometimes thinks that he's uncouth and quite rude with some of his jokes but he is a good customer and orders a lots of sweets and sometimes he is nice to talk to you when he's not being a complete jerk with his jokes

"Barn I know you like your jokes hun, but I run a reputable establishment and I will not take any uncouth jokes about my shop as payment I would hate to ban you Mr Beagle especially since you're one of my top customers"

Honey and Frank: I feel like they would be really good friends as well I feel like with Poppy they would all just bake together gossip and have tea and spill the tea like I don't know why I envision this I might even draw this of them just sitting around Poppy's table while baking and just having tea and just gossiping, I also have a feeling that Frank would come to Honey's place stressed out You know whether it's Barnaby the upset them or Howdy not letting them get groceries Because He didn't tell a good joke I have a feeling that honey would give him a friend's discount because she knows that Frank can have trouble with payment jokes and the type of payment that she gets from him is the tea the gossip so she'll be like gossiping and listening to his woes while he drinks a mocha with some custard that she made homemade for him because she knows He loves some custard

"Frank, sugar how many times am I going to tell you if You keep giving that dog so much attention He's just going to keep going You keep egging him on every reaction The more reactions you give him the more power he has over you Just take a deep breath and try to ignore him cuz once he realized that You won't even give him the time of day for a reaction he'll get bored and he'll leave and bother someone else keep that in mind shug"

So that's Honey's relationships with all the neighbors and how I would feel like she would talk to them I am planning on doing this with all my OCs I hope you enjoyed this I had a lot of fun making this and I actually laughed a lot while thinking about how honey would reply to some of the neighbors lol To be honest half of these I want to make comics for but I'm not a good comic maker but one of these days I got to illustrate these interactions lmao And I will say this again none of this stuff is canon this is just how I would think my OC would interact with all the other neighbors

[sapphic-circles]

Horse Sense

Part 1 of a series of oneshots called Greener Pastures! Equestrian AU Gelphie, end of the loathing era 🤗 @into-fiction Figured you’d want to be tagged!

Read on AO3

“Excuse me.”

Elphaba sighed and dumped the scoop of grain in her hand into a bucket before pasting a pleasant smile onto her face and turning to toward the interruption behind her.

That’s what Galinda Upland was, it seemed: one very persistent blonde interruption to any task Elphaba tried to complete in peace, made only worse by the fact that they lived together at the barn. Elphaba had assumed when she’d taken the job, free rent and board in exchange for work, that her roommate would be in the same situation.

But Galinda paid rent and board with the seemingly endless money her parents showered her with. She didn’t have a job. She showed year-round. And she was the most particular, stuck-up horse owner Elphaba had ever had the displeasure of working for. Still, she had to play nice, at least while she was on the clock.

“What is it, Galinda?”

Well, her customer service voice could use some work. Galinda didn’t seem to notice, though, and she held out a large bag of long, thin boxes. “These are for Prince. He gets it up to the one-thousand–pound mark in the morning before feeding for the next month.”

Elphaba frowned as she took the bag and examined its contents. A full month’s worth of medication, and expensive medication at that. “Ulcers?” she asked.

“Yes.” Galinda crossed her arms. “I can’t imagine why. He gets the best care here—as far as I know. You haven’t been forgetting to give him his hay, have you?”

“Of course not,” Elphaba said stiffly. “I know how to take care of horses. Would you even know how to give one of these to him if you needed to?”

“Yes,” Galinda said defensively, “but that’s what you get paid to do.”

“Sure.” Elphaba rolled her eyes and set the bag on the counter. “I’ll make sure he gets it.” Then, under her breath, “Ulcers. Not surprising.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Elphaba winced. She hadn’t meant to say that out loud, or at least not loud enough for Galinda to hear. “I said, I’m not surprised he has ulcers,” she repeated. “You’re trailering him all over creation every week, he’s stuck in a stall ninety percent of the day, and he has to deal with your annoying voice all the time. I’m surprised it took this long.”

Galinda scoffed. “Oh,” she said, “because you’re so perfect? Like Midnight isn’t out there in the heat and the rain and the bugs every day? And you keep her shoeless even though you ride on those awful rocky trails in the woods!”

“The word is unshod,” Elphaba said, “and she has hard feet and boots for rough trails. I’m not shoeing a horse who doesn’t need it; that’s just asking for trouble.” She sighed. “Look, Galinda, I’m not saying it just to be catty. I want what’s best for the horses. It’s really not uncommon for all the fancy, expensive, well bred show horses here to need these—” she pointed at the bag of gastrogard— “or to have bouts of colic or get painkillers every day. There is a reason I keep Midnight on pasture all the time.”

Galinda’s fingernails dug into her arms as she glared at Elphaba, and Elphaba prepared herself for the worst tirade she’d faced yet, but it never came. Galinda’s lip quivered as tears welled up in her eyes, and Elphaba’s heart sank. Oh, she was so going to be fired.

“Is it really my fault?” Galinda asked in a small voice.

Elphaba bit her lip. Sure, she loathed Galinda, but she hadn’t intended to make the girl cry. She had been a bit harsh, she supposed, but she just couldn’t bring herself to lie, even to spare her roommate’s feelings.

“Well—I’m not a vet, so I can’t say for sure,” Elphaba admitted. “But some lifestyle changes might really help him.”

Galinda sniffed and wiped her eyes, smudging her mascara. “Pasture board?”

Elphaba hesitated. She hadn’t expected Galinda to give her the time of day about an issue like this, had expected her to fight it tooth and nail and insist that she couldn’t possibly have had an effect on her horse’s gut health. She honestly hadn’t thought her roommate even saw Prince as anything more than a status symbol and a commodity, but clearly she was wrong.

“It definitely wouldn’t hurt,” Elphaba said. “What did the vet tell you? Did they suspect anything in particular caused it?”

Galinda shook her head. “He just said it happens sometimes when the horse is stressed. But he doesn’t seem stressed. Wouldn’t he have been pacing or pawing or something?”

“Not necessarily,” Elphaba said. “He might be calm, but that doesn’t mean his body isn’t stressed. Look, I know stalls are convenient, and you probably think it keeps them safe, but the truth is that they run out of hay not long after we drop it at night, and then they’ve got nothing until morning. And they can’t move the way they need to in order to stimulate their gut. Being on pasture fixes all of that.”

“Okay,” Galinda said quietly. “That makes sense.” She paused. “You know a lot, don’t you?”

Elphaba shrugged, suddenly self-conscious for reasons she couldn’t articulate. “I’ve just seen a lot,” she said. “Do you…do you want me to talk to Ms. Morrible about moving Prince outside? There’s room for one more in Midnight’s pasture.”

“You would do that for me?”

Galinda gazed up at her with wide, wet eyes—the most eye contact they’d sustained since they moved in together. They really were a very pretty shade of brown, weren’t they?

Elphaba cleared her throat uncomfortably and nodded. The barn owner didn’t seem to like Galinda very much despite allowing her to live upstairs, but Elphaba was Ms. Morrible’s best employee. She would listen.

“Of course,” Elphaba said. “I want to help him as much as you do.”

“Oh, thank you, Elphie!” Elphaba staggered with surprise as Galinda threw her arms around her neck in an unexpected embrace. “Can I call you that?”

“Well, it’s a bit perky…”

“I know, I’m gonna call you that!” Galinda said. “Now…could you maybe show me how to give Prince his medicine?”

Elphaba couldn’t help but chuckle. “I knew you didn’t know how.”

“Shush,” Galinda hissed. “I want to learn! Please?”

“All right, all right,” Elphaba said. She couldn’t wrap her head around her roommate’s sudden change in demeanor, and she wasn’t even sure it would last, but for now…well, she had to admit she didn’t mind it.

She hoped it would last.

[adoracora-elizabeth]

Drabble - Will he survive - Part two

Cora opened the door slowly; she was not sure if Robert would be awake. She needed to ask Carson to do something about the squeaking of the door. The curtains were open, and the sun brightened up her room. She had loved this room from the start and over the course of the years she had made it her own.

"Well, look who we have here." Robert said when he saw Cora coming in.

"I wanted to see how you were doing."

"The same as about two hours ago." He said a bit grumpy.

"I thought so, that's why I brought cards with me. We could play a game."

Robert raised his eyebrows. "And you have time for that?"

Cora pulled the chair that was placed close to Robert’s bedside closer and sat down. "I make time for that. Now let us see what can we play? Bezique?"

Robert agreed, but not before he had asked her to pour him a new cup of tea. Carson had put some alcohol in his cup, and when he had smelled it, he put the cup down. He had asked Carson, and he admitted giving him the alcohol. He did not want to drink it; he promised Cora to stay off the liqueur for the coming months. He would be even more bored, than before his ulcer had burst, but he knew he had no other option left.

Cora glanced at him, three days ago he had come home after two days in the hospital. That first night had been one of the scariest of her life. At the same time, it had been a moment to cherish.

When Dr Clarkson had checked on Robert once he had woken up, she called the girls in. Dr. Clarkson had allowed them to go in together. The way Robert had reassured their girls that he would be alright had melted her heart. Mary and Edith had gone back to the house, but she stayed at the hospital. At first, Robert insisted on her getting into the room they prepared for her. But Cora argued that it did not make sense to be sleeping in a different room, that way she could as well sleep at Downton. She asked one of the nurses to put an extra bed in his room and with some reluctance they agreed.

She stayed both days with him. Baxter had tried to make her as representative as possible. She brought easy dresses for her, in which she would be comfortable. She was amazed at how Baxter made her look. As if she always dressed her in a hospital setting. She loved how she brought her night dresses that were a bit more covered then she usually used at home.

"A penny for you thoughts." Robert said.

Cora looked up at him and smiled. "The night you got admitted to the hospital went through my mind."

Robert reached for her hand. His mobility was still not much, but at least he could move again. The first two days had been horrible, pain-wise. "Let us not think about the scary things. I loved it when you, against all protocol got in my bed." He took her hand firmly in his.

Cora chuckled. "Which of the two moments do you mean?"

Now Robert chuckled too, he held his belly while he tried not to laugh. "I think you know. The one in the middle of the night, when you finally gave up trying to get to sleep in the bed they gave you. That you forced the nurses to put in my room"

"I did not force them.” Cora said innocently, she knew that she had insisted on that bed in the room. “It was so uncomfortable and knowing you were close but not being able to touch you was torture."

"The shocked sound the nurse made when she came in, in the morning was priceless." Robert was fully laughing.

Cora looked at him worried, laughing did hurt him, and that was visible. "We should better start playing that game, it will give you less discomfort." She hoped this would calm him down.

"Remembering that special moment with you also helps with feeling better." He smiled at her.

"Good."

They played and talked for quite a while until the door to her room was opened again, it was Edith.

"Mama, the nurse says that Papa's bandages need to be changed, but she was not sure she could enter."

This comment made Robert laugh again. "Oh my, we have made a reputation." He snickered.

Cora glanced at him, but her cheeks coloured slightly. Which made Robert know she knew what he meant.

"She can enter." Cora answered. "You want me to leave?" This was directed at Robert. Until now, Robert had refused having her in the room during the changing.

"I do not want you to be uncomfortable or scared or anything. It is not a pretty sight."

"She can tell me how it must be done. That way I can take over in the evening, which will give us a bit more privacy." She saw that this comment changed his view on it somewhat. She hated that Robert did not let her in the room, as if she needed protection after being splattered with his blood. Although she would not tell him how it made her feel that he did not want her in the room, she tried to gently come up with reasons to be in the room. "And you being covered in blood was also not a pretty sight, this cannot be worse."

"When you really insist, you can stay."

The nurse explained step by step what needed to be done, and they agreed that this afternoon Cora would do the changing, and the nurse would watch if she did everything that was needed. Robert had been right; the wound was still a real wound. She could see that it was healing, but very slowly. At the same time, she had no idea how long it would normally take for a wound like this to heal.

+++

"Are you sure you are up for it?" Robert asked, unsure when Cora unbuttoned his nightshirt.

"Are you up for it?" Cora teased. "It feels as if you have a harder time, excepting me changing your bandages than I have with doing it. Now please tell me when it hurts." She tried warming up her fingers. Her always freezing hands would not be nice on his warm skin. Still, when she touched him, he winched. "Are they still too cold? I am sorry, next time I will warm them in water before touching you."

"You would think I am used to your cold hands, since you try to warm them up with my body every night." He chuckled.

Cora bent down and kissed his lips. "I will never get used to this colder climate."

"Please never do, I love having you close to me at night."

"Now, here we go." Cora pulled gently at the bandage. She quickly cleaned his skin and put the ointment around the wound. Very softly, she brushed over his skin. She felt him tremble. "Does that hurt?"

"No, it is not that."

Cora stopped her movement and looked at him, she was not sure what he meant.

"It is the first time you are touching the wound and it is a weird sensation."

Cora did not move her fingers, but she was making sure her skin kept touching his. "I am surprised by how good it looks compared to this afternoon.

"I think it is pretty ugly, and it has ruined my body for you."

Cora put a clean bandage over the cleaned area and sat down on the matrass. She buttoned his nightshirt close, took his hand and rested it in her lap. "Nothing can ever ruin you for me."

Robert squeezed her hand and smiled at her. "You are only saying that to comfort me."

Making sure she was not putting weight on him, she leaned over him, placing her hand just above his shoulder against the headboard. Her other hand came to a rest against his cheek. "You covered me in your blood, do you think that a scar on your belly will put me off?"

Robert shrugged.

"You have seen my belly over and over and you are still fancying me." Cora brushed with her nose over his.

"What are you talking about?" Robert put his hand on her knee.

"I have stretchmarks and wrinkles, and you still look at me as if I am the most beautiful woman in the world."

"Because you are. Those marks are made by our three wonderful girls and….." he could not finish his sentence.

Cora saw how he hesitated when he said three and knew he referred to their baby boy who never got the chance. She felt a lump in her throat herself. "Sybil left the most marks." She said quietly.

"Oh, Cora." Robert's voice was a sob.

Cora shook her head, in an attempt to get rid of the tears. "But she left us with a beautiful granddaughter, darling Sybbie."

"She did. All our grandchildren are a blessing to have. Seeing you with our own little ones and now with the grandbabies is more than I could have ever wished for."

"Let us make sure you are healthy again; I want to spend so much more time together with you and our growing family." She pressed her lips against his and kissed him tenderly.

A knock on the door made her sit up straight. Baxter opened the door and stepped inside. "Do you need my help preparing for the night?"

Cora brushed over Robert’s cheek and got up. "I am sorry, I forgot about the time. Thank you for coming." Together with Baxter, she disappeared into Robert's dressing room. Since he came home, she changed there, it had been easier this way. He could go to sleep when he wanted to, and it would not be embarrassing for Baxter when she helped Cora undress. The staff knew about their relationship, but it was still quite common for couples in their class to sleep in different bedrooms.

[mlprootrot]

April 11--

Sent a message to Rarity this morning, inviting her over if she needed to talk. Got a response back a few hours later: she's having trouble putting weight on her hoof, and wants to rest. Told me to come by later, though, if I didn't mind.

"Do you think Celestia could have spared her, if she hadn't been so far gone?"

Could or would? I didn't like these questions. When I took too long to answer, Rarity went on to tell me that one of the foals from her little sister's class was taken to the hospital last night. Some kind of allergic reaction. Her voice was steady, but she seemed to have trouble focusing on me. The white of her eyes have gone yellow.

She says: "whatever you know, I need to know."

But ulcers have formed in her mouth, and it hurts to talk. Her nostrils are inflamed and raw, and her gums are red and bleeding. She took the time to mourn that stupid bedazzled face mask, now stained.

My first inclination was to say that I didn't know anything. Because that's what I was supposed to do. The harder she insisted, the more I wanted to ask why she kept fidgeting with her sleeve. We both have secrets, and they are festering. She is festering

She says: "let me face this with some dignity."

So I told her about Hollyhock Fever.

[sebastianstansqueen]

Lost In The Shadows: Part Ten

A/N: I'm gonna try and be more frequent, start giving me Ideas for what type of series you want to see next, i’m curious and finished writing this one so lets see if I can start getting parts out more frequently, If you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 1,390

Warnings: angst, and hospital stuff, if I forgot anything let me know please!

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Taglist open// 

Tags: @cherryblossomsky- - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond - @leyannrae- @avengerlex - @pineprincess - @nik2write - @dorothea-hwldr - @rosie-posie08 - @scxrletrecsmarvel - @sebsgirl71479- @missvelvetsstuff - @hadesownhell - @casa-boiardi - @winterslove1917- @hallecarey1 - @ash-craze - @barnesxstan - @unaxv - @bethexo07 - @itsmytimetoodream - @sebastians-love - @stoneyggirl2

Natasha took a taxi to the hospital as soon as her shift at inferno ended, she found out by a call from Andy, who she found in the waiting room on the floor Y/n was on. “What the hell happened?” She asked with concern as she stormed up to him. 

It almost irritated Natasha how put together he was, in this worrying moment. “It was a bomb. That’s all we know so far.”

“And where is James?” All she had was questions, and Natasha didn’t want to consider how hurt Y/n was at the moment.

“He was in the car with her.” Andy looked down, concerned for both of them, with what Y/n had been going on about since coming back from Malibu he’d begun liking Bucky for her, seeing how happy he made her now.  

“Are they okay?” Natasha asked with a weak strangled voice. 

“I don’t know.” Andy sighed. 

When Y/n’s eyes opened she could barely keep them that way because of the bright fluorescents, she groaned out of discomfort due to everything hurting. “Thank God!” Natasha hugged her aching body.

“Get off of me.” Y/n says. “Please.” 

“I’m sorry if I thought you were dead.” Natasha rolled her eyes with a smirk. 

Y/n sighed, shaking her head, then her eyes widened. “Where’s Bucky?”

“He’s in the room next door.” She explained shortly.

Y/n felt relieved that he was at least at the hospital as well. “Is he okay?” She leaned up causing her to groan slightly. 

“Are you okay?” Y/n gave Natasha a look after she asked, clearly more interested in if her husband was alright. “He’s fine. Now what about you?” 

“I’m fine, clearly, I’m awake at least. Is he awake?” She asked with wide eyes looking at the red head. 

Natasha frowned at Y/n’s lack of concern for herself, and that this was the answer was possibly gonna upset Y/n. “Not yet, but he is stable, from his surgery considering what happened.” 

Y/n’s concern now shot through the roof. “What happened? I need to see him now, if something is wrong.” She began to try and force herself up out of the bed, trying to take the heart monitor thing off, and getting ready to try and do the same thing with the IV. 

“Y/n, that's not a great idea.” Natasha pushed her lightly so she laid against the pillow again, Y/n arched a brow at that. “You’ve been in bed for a week, unmoving, your legs are probably going to be weak, don’t rush anything.” 

Y/n looked at Natasha with annoyance. “Nat, I’m fine, I want to see him, what’s wrong, what happened?” Nat stays silent, as Y/n in her head slowly pieces together what is going on. “Why don’t you want me to see him?” She squints. 

“I want you to heal, I never said I didn’t want you to see him.” Natasha could see Y/n’s anger growing, and even though Natasha could be considered one of her closest friends she, like everyone else in New York, didn’t want to be the one on the receiving end of  it. 

Y/n nodded. “Sure. I’m asking this one more time Nat, as a fair warning, why don’t you want me to go see my husband?” 

Natasha only had one answer for this. “Because it might give you a stress ulcer if you do. Or you’ll work yourself till you do, because that's what you do for comfort.” Natasha rushed all of this out, along with the bit of rambling. Y/n began getting up again, she wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer.  She stood and began, well barely walking, she was mad that one of Natasha’s excuses were real, her legs were feeling numb. “Do you want me to get you a wheelchair?” 

“I’m gonna walk in that room, no one will be taking me in there.” Y/n said with her normal defiance, making Natasha roll her eyes. “So will you help me walk to the door?” She whined. Natasha smiled, moving to help her walk to Bucky’s room door.

Y/n was still being supported while walking by Natasha as they walked into the room. Steve along with Bucky’s family sat in the room, Y/n quickly acted as if she hadn’t been using her friend as a crutch a moment ago. “What happened? Is he okay?” She asked them since Natasha seemed to be answer less. 

“Y/n, calm down, he’s stable.” Steve said, as he came up to her.

“I already know that, I know he’s stable and fine, but what else happened that everyone seems to be trying to cover up for me, I just want to make sure he is okay!” Y/n snapped at everyone in that moment, she didn’t want to hear what she already knew.

“Y/n.” Her eyes shift to Winifred, Y/n’s look softening slightly. “I want to talk to Y/n alone.” She tells everyone else, soon they all shuffle out of the room.

“What’s wrong?” Y/n asked softly, moving slowly towards a chair in hopes that her legs wouldn’t give out in the few steps. 

“I understand you don’t want to have this sugar coated, but it’s gonna be a lot to take in.”  Winnifred gently warned, all of this was freaking her out even more, from where she currently sat, Bucky looked fine, other than his usual stubble growing out a bit more, he still looked the same. “Do you remember what happened?” Y/n shook her head, all she remembered was the argument. “Someone put a bomb in the trunk of the car, it went off, and it destroyed the car. Luckily you and James were alright, but a part of the scrap metal sliced mostly through his arm, so doctors had to make a choice.” 

Y/n sat there only thinking of what Bucky was gonna do when he woke up, the car he’d put so much work into was now scrap metal, and said the car also was the reason his arm was amputated. “Is there anything else?” 

Winnifred shook her head. “We’ll find out when he wakes up.”

Y/n had been released from the hospital two days after waking up, all she wanted to do was stay there with Bucky. Andy had been taking care of business while she’s been gone, and continued to do so, for the past two weeks, while she waited with concern, everyone who knew her personally saw this very uncharacteristic thing for her to be doing. The door to Bucky’s room opened behind where she was sitting, she turned around to see who was coming in, and it was Andy. “Hmm?” She hummed as if to ask why he was there. 

“We, Natasha, George and a few others, think it’s best if for a little bit you and James go…somewhere, after he wakes up, I was waiting for him to wake up to tell you, but I think it’s best if you head to the airport after he is released.” He explained all of this to Y/n. 

“Why should we leave? There isn’t a reason to.” She shook her head at him. 

Andy sighed. “Because, you know, whoever put that bomb in the car wasn’t trying to kill James, and you know that, they were actually after you, that would make this the first attack on the head of a family in almost what fourty years. If someone is after you, you need to get out of the states for a bit, you know I’ll call you when I think things are better.”

“I didn’t agree to it.” Y/n stopped him.

“Y/n, you have to see where we are coming from, we what you two safe for a bit, I know you can handle a shoot out and other things but this isn’t like what you have seen already, let me handle it from here, I’ll keep you updated, I’ll send you anything you’ll need to know and if it affects the business, for now do what I’m  telling you.” Andy made sure to show her that he was serious himself. 

“We’ll talk more about this another time.” She told him, Andy nodded before he left the room.

[traveller-player-block-tales-au]

Well, that settles it then! Guess I'm going by "Re" now haha! Though that delay is a little odd, but probably nothing to be concerned about? I think? (you're all good for not answering it immediately lol. I understand!)

Hmm...

Im not sure how well it would work, but I could try to magic up something for you and your companions to eat? Or at least you maybe. How about some pizza perhaps?

In the mean time... Would you mind telling us a bit about your party? Im kind of curious! You don't have to if you don't want to though! Especially with one of their alternates around...

-Re

• "I hope it's nothing to be worried about."

• (Red and Blue give him another look)

▪ "Who... Are you talking to??"

• (Right, they can't answer verbally right now.)

• "Don't worry about it, Blue. Just talking to an imaginary friend"

▪ "Why do you still have imaginary friends??"

• "... I wonder the same thing, kid..."

• (Red squints at them, then turns to Blue who shrugs.)

▪ "Do you need to go to mental hospital??"

• (This kid doesn't pull his punches, huh)

• (They're getting distracted from the ask.)

• "Not currently, thanks for the offer. How about you go play with blue while I stare off into nothingness, okay?"

• (Red shrugs and walks to Blue)

• (They, the traveller, have the smallest feeling the voices can read his thoughts. Their thoughts also have felt different since they came. Like... Did a pronoun change or something? They're getting sidetracked.)

• (oh right! Snacks! Please don't give them the foods they ate at the Sacred Hollow! If they even one of those ever again they think they'll combist. However they would absolutely LOVE a pizza right a bout now! They have never eaten it before! It's something new!! Please don't put pineapple on it though. They aren't too keen on trying those 'respawns' out)

• (Okay where were we?)

• (...)

• (Normally The Kid would be screaming about a snack time right about now... But she isn't here, is she?)

• (...)

• (This one way to start talking about their party.)

• (It only makes sense to start with Griefer The Housemaiden. He's the sole survivor of the house of Turitopulis the son of its head housemaiden. People say he's the one blessed by the change god to stop the Cruel King's curse from Freezing the whole of Robloxia in time. He has hair which seems to be made of plant? They never got around to asking him what it is. He excels in healing craft... Though he Doesn't seem quite happy about it for some reason..)

• (Next up is Kyoko They fighter. She used to be a defender in Plainstown, but quite to join Griefer in his adventure after the Defender's union refused to help him. Something tells them that she always wanted to travel the country, and that Griefer was the first excuses she saw. Maybe she'll travel in other countries too if we-... If the party beat the Cruel king without them...)

• (...)

• (Next to join was a Kitchen Wizard named Algott The researcher from Blackrock. He went along to satisfy his curiosity about this country's culture... And because leaving the fate of the world fall in the hands of a couple young ones would give him an ulcer)

• (After that they joined. Because they had nothing better to do.)

• (a couple weeks after they joined Blue also joined to save her uncle and to find her brother, who she lost somewhere in the travels from the crossroads to here.)

• (... That's pretty much everything in a short description.)

First | << previous | next >>

//ooc: I have nothing to say tbh :P. WELL, I DID ACCIDENTALLY TURN OFF ASKS FOR ONLY STARS KNOW HOW LONG BUT THAT BESIDES THE POINT.

Oh yeah! Bubonic plant without Venomshank is crazy. I've been thinking that maybe it's somekind of Hanahaki disease but considerably less pretty. Also the disease is why he learned healing craft, so that he wasn't confined to a hospital bed his whole life.