#it's been so long since i've been able to write it :/

[chaotic-archaeologist]

So to make a long story semi short; during fall term a couple unknowing found a set of mastodon teeth and brought to my anthropology professor at the college, since then they conducted some field work and found more bone. They obviously stopped because of winter but in summer the college will be offering a field work class to go help at the site. I want to do that, but as mentioned before I have Cerebral Palsy which means I don't have a lot of upper body strength or flexibility. But I can still do a lot. My I guess problem is my Professors respect me and that's hard for me to get with all the ableism and I worked hard these last two semesters to break out of my shell to get here , I guess I just don't want to 1. make a fool of myself 2. be a hindrance and/or mess something up

any advice?

This sounds like an incredible opportunity, and I would definitely encourage you to pursue it! I hear your concerns about embarrassing yourself and being a hindrance, but I think you should reframe your thinking around facts that 1) everybody deserves learning experiences regardless of their physical ability, and 2) there are things you can do that will be an asset to the excavation.

Some of these things include taking notes and photographs, documenting and storing finds, and working with any digital tools like GPS units. You may also be able to do lab work and different kinds of analysis, depending on what they find and how they run the program. A good supervisor (although not all are created equal) will be willing to work with you to come up with a plan for how you can participate and what that will look like.

Usually, classes like this have applications where students list their relevant coursework and write a brief personal statement about why they want to participate. There are a couple of ways you could go about this in regards to disclosing your disability and seeking accommodations. You can either:

Disclose early: this would entail including something about your disability in your personal statement, in an email to the professor running the dig, etc.

Disclose later: submit your application without mentioning your disability. Feel free to mention how hard you've worked to get where you are, and if you want to talk about vague challenges with your health as part of that, it's up to you. If you are accepted to the dig, ask for a meeting with the supervisor where you can then explain your needs and what you are able to do.

Generally, I advise erring on the side of disclosing later rather than earlier. As I'm sure you're aware, prejudice and implicit bias are unfortunately a thing, and sometimes the only way to protect yourself from those impeding your application is to withhold information (although obviously this isn't an option if the professor already knows you). Additionally, you have legal protections against discrimination that are much easier to enforce after you have been accepted.

That being said, I've been heartened to see that more and more people in archaeology spaces are thinking about what accessibility means in field settings and how to include people with disabilities.—perhaps this is also the case with whoever is running this dig. Archaeology is for everyone, and there are many roles in an excavation for someone who can't do physical labor.

Finally, I'll close with some resources that might be helpful.

The Disabled Archaeologists Network: while I don't think they have a ton of programming for undergraduates (yet), membership is free and can put you in touch with

Field Tested: an article about a disabled student who was able to participate in a geology field school (similar levels of work to an archaeology one). It discusses some of the accommodations the student needed, and what they were able to do.

Here's an article by Dr. Anita Marshall, the professor who ran that accessible field school. Its content isn't substantially different from the one I linked above, but at the end it also cites some good literature about accessibility in field work. You should be able to access a lot of those publications through your institution's library or @jstor's free (or institutional) service.

Good luck, -Reid

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

(Thunderbolts) I feel like it would be really funny. There's a x reader where Bucky had a wife, and she just walks in during one of their meetings, holding their kids and like "where the hell were you? All I need a frozen pizza and some diaper wipes."

And alexie teaches one of the kids their first word but it's not mama or dada. It's Gin.

Bucky is pulled away quickly for a mission, leaving you holding the babies...and worrying about your husband.

Warnings: 18+ for language, domestic fluff, Thunderbolts!Bucky before the film, Dad!Bucky, reader likes pineapple on her pizza, I feel this is something I need to warn for. I don't really write kids in fics normally and I've never written Alexi before so…please be kind! Rated F for fluff and K for kids.

A/N: thank you so much for this request! Not going to lie I'm nervous writing anything about Thunderbolts before it's out but Thunderbolts!Bucky does live rent free in my head. It's not exactly as you requested but I hope you still enjoy it anyway!

Padruga - female friend in Russian

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

Being married to Bucky Barnes was everything you'd dreamed about since the first time he'd strolled into your boutique and nervously asked if you had any gifts suitable for ex-assassins with limited wardrobes.

After a few hours searching for items he'd bought a new jacket for himself, black leather of course, and a smaller woman's jacket. Your heart had sunk, of course there was a woman already in his life. Tall, handsome, a rakish mop of hair flopping into his piercing blue eyes, she was a lucky lady.

Bucky had looked at you, those blue eyes looking straight into your soul, "it's for my sister, sort of, well, she's not my real sister, but she's like a - it's not for …I don't have a girlfriend."

"Oh, good." And then you kicked yourself for sounding so stupid. Bucky had given you the widest smile and written his number on a scrap of paper.

"Call me." He'd winked.

It was becoming harder to appreciate your luck when you were covered in bath water, probably the only shower you were likely to get unless Grant went to sleep quickly.

Bucky had been called out to an emergency meeting on his way to the store and as much as you loved his dedication and hard work you really, really, needed him to come home with the groceries.

You were running low on literally everything and you knew eventually you'd have to do a full shop, but now just the essentials would do. You couldn't have a repeat of lunch, hunting down some crackers, cheese and cucumbers sticks.

Distracted for a moment, Grant lined his rubber ducks up on the edge of the tub, splashing them in one by one.

"Look Mama!" He said, gleefully, "'dis one is Daddy!" He took the duck, left wing coloured in black, and made it dive into the heap of bubbles surrounding him.

"Well done, Sweetie!" You cooed, turning away quickly to hide a yawn and checking your phone.

Get your ass home or I'm ordering the pizza in instead

From the nice place

Get me some fries?

No

and I'm getting pineapple

Doll cmon now youre being cruel

It wasn't unusual for Bucky to keep his work secret, but he would normally be able to say when he was coming home. Perhaps it was really important.

Grant had just gone to sleep when the doorbell rang and you cringed, setting your pineapple heavy pizza down on the coffee table and pausing your movie.

There was a familiar silhouette in the frosted glass -

"Alexi, is everything okay?" The door swang wide open before you could even reach it. It had definitely been locked, but it was hard to keep any of the team out for long.

"Padruga! I am returning the small one." A very familiar mop of hair popped over Alexi's shoulder, face covered in cookie crumbs. For all that Grant was like you, Natalia was all Bucky, soft curls and sparkling blue eyes.

"Mommy!" She jumped from Alexi, landing heavily in your arms, "we went to Dairy Queen and I had two ice creams and one of those ice creams was vanilla and the other was choca-chol-choco-brown-extreme-blizzard-extreme."

You turned a cold eye on Alexi, "I thought we said park, dinner, home?"

"Ah how can I resist to spoiling the daughter of the Winter Soldier, if she wants extreme blizzard milk drinks I cannot say no." He shrugged, an indulgent smile peaking out of his beared.

"God," you rubbed a hand over your face. "She'll never sleep - Petal, can you go and get your pjs on please, I'll come up and help you do your teeth."

Natalia climbed the stairs quickly, sounding more like a herd of elephants than a four year old.

"Do you know what's going on with Bucky? I expected him home by now."

Alexi looked concerned, but didn't immediately start a tirade about the strength of the Winter Solider, so you felt reassured it couldn't be too serious.

"He is discussing planning with Wilson and his comrades. I have advised against it but he trusts the Captain and so we do too."

"We?"

"Yelena has been very helpful and is talking to the rest of the team. We will have a plan soon."

"So you're heading out for something?"

"Yes. I am sorry."

"Fuck."

"In Russian you can say, yebat, Mommy." Natalia's little voice floated over from the hallway and you cringed. Everytime she came back from spending time with Alexi or Yelena she seemed to have learnt a new Russian word, which wouldn't bother you, except they were almost always curse words.

"I'm all for her being bilingual, but could you maybe teach her how to say her favourite colour or something." You grouched.

"Sorry."

Alexi took a slice of pizza and left the address of the current discussions on a scrap of paper stuck to the fridge before vanishing in to the night again with the promise that you could "call anytime."

It had been two days since Bucky left on his bike to, "have a quick chat with the team, baby, don't worry, I'll swing by the store on the way home." And you were starting to move from slightly annoyed to a see-saw of furious and anxious.

He'd text a few times to let you know they hadn't left yet but the situation was complex, he'd be home very briefly before they left, just to see you and the kids, but other than that he was holed away for the foreseeable.

One week after Bucky left and you were truly stir crazy. There was only so many times you could have the same conversation with the other parents at the park before you lost your mind.

You really didn't care if Timmy or Charlie or whoever had cut their first tooth. All you cared about was what your husband was doing somewhere, anywhere, and when he'd be home safe in your arms.

It was 2am when the call came in, he was home, safe and unharmed, at the abandoned airstrip twenty miles past the town border. Yelena and Alexi were with him, also safe.

Grant was a heavy, floppy, weight in your arms as you buckled him into his car seat. But Natalia was wide awake and excited, clutching her bear to her chest and staring at the street lights in awe.

"I can't wait to see Daddy," she sighed, snuggling the top of the bear's head. You made sure to put his cologne on it, every day, while she was out at kindergarten, the same way you sprayed his pillow. So you'd both have a memory. Grant's blankie was the same and, still asleep, he pressed his chubby cheek into the cotton.

"I can't wait either, Petal, we'll be there soon."

You drove through the night, the darkness closing in around your car, streetlamps dwindling and stars appearing as you made it out of the town and towards the airstrip. There was a single plane looking almost abandoned, its tail at an angle, on the landing strip. But there was the faint glow of artificial light under the door of a metal supply shed beyond it.

You slowed the car, expecting there to be someone at the gate to the airstrip before remembering it had been closed a few years previously and there would be no one to care. It must have been a rough mission, to come back like this rather than through a real airport. It was normally Sam who let you know about his return and you could collect him from the big airport in the city or he'd appear in the night from some taxi or hire car.

You double checked to make sure the doors were locked on the car, the children dozing in the back. Grant was drooling on his blankie and Natalia, despite her assertion that she would "definitely certainly mostly stay awake until Daddy, Mommy" was bumping her head on the side of her car seat every time her eyes closed.

You stopped the car opposite the shed and flashed your lights, ready to drive off if they didn't flash back.

It went dark, then light, dark…light and the door opened. You put the handbrake on and jumped from the car, leaving the door flung open in your haste, and raced towards Bucky.

He dropped his duffle bag and swung you into his arms, latching around your waist and lifting you easily. His lips were chapped and there was the tang of blood when you pulled away from a cut on his upper lip. You cupped his face in your hands and inspected him as best you could in just the headlights.

"You're okay." You sighed, breathing him in, burying your face in his neck and squeezing your legs around his waist.

"I'm alright Doll, don't worry about me. Are you okay?" His voice was rough with sleep, his cheeks chapped with cold and he smelt faintly of fire which was disconcerting. But he was here, safe, holding you close.

"Glad you're back, baby." You smiled, kissing him again. It was amazing, even after all these years, ever though he'd been on a hundred missions. It still gave you butterflies every time he came back, not just that he returned at all, but that he came back to you.

Behind you came the sound of little fists banging on the windows.

"Daddy!" Natalia shouted and Bucky carried you, giggling, back to the car.

With practiced ease he unbuckled both children and held them close.

"My little monsters, have you been good for Mommy?"

"Yes!"

"No!" Grant giggled.

"Sounds about right." Bucky looked over Natalia's head and smiled again, soft and slow.

"I'm glad you're back." You repeated, "but if you ever take two weeks to 'pop to the store' again we're over." You wagged your finger teasingly.

"Don't worry, I got everything we needed." Bucky carried the children back to his duffle, shuffling them around so he could lumber back with everything in his arms. "Look in there."

You unzipped the bag and inside - a pack of wipes, a bottle of laundry soap and two frozen pizzas.

[milliesfishes]

౨ৎ꣑ৎRose Blush౨ৎ꣑ৎ

[fem reader] contains: fake dating pairing: coriolanus snow x fem reader author’s note: been awhile since I've done a coryo fic hehe hope you enjoy <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

Coriolanus stifled a yawn, forcing himself to stare at the sheet of paper in front of him. The words were blurring into each other, and he wasn't even sure what class he was in anymore.

The girl he'd taken out last night had been talkative to say the least. The servers at the restaurant had begun to clean up around them until Coriolanus had finally stood up and practically announced that he had an early morning and so they should call it a night.

She'd been fine with it, but when they had pulled up outside her house and he bid her farewell, she'd talked for another hour. It was midnight by the time he got home. Even know he could hear her voice grating at the insides of his mind. It was decidedly hard to focus.

At least she didn't attend the university. He wasn't sure if he could stand seeing her around here after that disaster of a night. It was the seventh in a lineup of women he'd been propositioned to take out. Old family traditions practically required it, and he'd entertained the notion. After all, if he wanted to get anywhere in the realm of politics, he'd need a wife at his side.

But the crop of debutantes proved disappointing. Charmless, rude, annoying. After last night, he'd had it. If it meant he'd have to attend every charity event and gala and dinner by himself, that was just fine. At least he'd be awake for school.

Even if he did that, he wouldn't be able to get away. The elder wealthy women of the Capitol were relentless, pushing their daughters or granddaughters in his direction. An eligible younger man was one of the worst things to be at social events. He attended to make connections, not flirt with every woman in the vicinity.

Now his jaw stretched in a yawn he reached up to cover just in time. Maybe he could skip the hour of study he usually took in the library and head straight home. He'd undoubtedly be turning in early tonight.

"Late night?" you asked sympathetically, blinking at him through your glasses.

Coriolanus nodded, fixing his tired eyes on you. A tiny smile graced your lips, and he felt a little more awake because of it. "Yes." You were another library regular, always lost behind a towering stack of books and scribbling something in your pink notebook. But the way he knew of you went beyond sharing space and having one or two classes together.

His last name was famous because of his father, one in a long line of important ancestors who shaped Panem in some way. Yours was for an entirely different reason.

The things people used to whisper about you when you were both still in the Academy were far from dignified. About your father's cowardice. The way your mother took a nightlife line of work after he deserted both the military and your family. Your brothers were nothing but trouble in the eyes of the public- drunks who caused a world of trouble in the streets.

He remembered seeing you during the war. Clinging to your mother's hand, a pair of teenagers lurking behind her. Tigris always had sympathy for you in particular. "She hasn't done anything, but because she was born in the wrong family everyone's awful to her." He always agreed. But he had enough problems of his own.

Class was dismissed, and you stood, folding your books back into place and keeping your head down as you made your way out of the room. He noticed people turning to each other, watching as you disappeared. Their whispers were no doubt unfavorable.

Coriolanus re-packed his textbook, wandering out into the hallway. Thinking about the war and his association of you with it had left him feeling some kind of way. He looked at his watch, any notions of tiredness suddenly fleeing. Maybe he'd head to the library after all.

You were there when he arrived, already writing in your notebook, head down, finger tapping at a line on an open page. Always the perfect student. He remembered that about you.

Turning to his usual table, he froze when he saw who was seated behind it. While his date last night didn't attend the university, several of his previous ones did, and two of them were sitting in a group of girls where he usually did. Ducking his head and hoping they didn't see him, he made for your table without thinking, pulling out a chair roughly and setting himself down.

When he looked at you, your eyes were already on him, brows knit in confusion. Coriolanus felt a twinge of sympathy. You likely weren't used to company like this.

"Can I help you?" The way you asked wasn't unkind. He stared at you for a moment, something brewing within. Your hair was pulled back, but a little strand had fallen from the clip at the back of your head, touching your cheek so delicately that he doubted you'd noticed.

The pack of girls giggled behind him. He leaned forward, words falling from his lips before he could stop them.

"I have a proposition for you."

"Pretend?" You leaned against the wall in the hallway where he'd ushered you, instinctively covering the strap of your bag. Coriolanus remembered briefly how fellow students at the Academy used to steal and hide your books from you.

"Pretend," he confirmed, resisting the urge to shift on his feet. "We would pretend to be...together."

"Why?" You asked it in such a non-judgmental way. Eyes innocent, lips parted just barely as you waited for his response.

Straightening, Coriolanus tried to explain clearly. "I need someone to be with me at different events. So it looks like I'm unavailable. To other women."

You tilted your head. "Why?"

He didn't feel like explaining his views on love at the moment. But your eyes were so earnest, and he almost felt like he could tell you every detail about his entire life and you'd listen. So he didn't lie. "I can't have a serious relationship right now."

"Hmm." Nodding, you bit the side of your cheek, looking to the side. "So what does this mean? I'd have to go to parties...but what else?"

"Dates, potentially." Coriolanus was a little surprised you were taking this so lightly. Any other girl would have laughed, maybe, or tried to turn the situation around. But you were simply listening, acting like you were taking it seriously. "We'd have to be seen together."

"Do I get anything out of it?" You were looking back into his eyes now.

He nearly did a double take. This was the most he'd ever heard you speak. "You could be compensated-"

"No. Don't pay me," you interrupted, shaking your head and looking away again. "It's too much like...it wouldn't feel right to me."

Coriolanus watched you, suddenly remembering one of the things he'd heard others say about your mother and how she earned a living. He didn't know what you'd been exposed to, but based on your expression, it couldn't be good. "Okay. Is there anything else you want?"

You thought for a moment, perking up a bit. "You have connections. And influence. Is there any chance you could use it...um..." Trailing off, your cheeks flushed.

"What?" His tone softened involuntarily.

Letting go of your bag, you began to fidget with your hands. "At the tuition offices, maybe?"

"Ah." He didn't mean to say it out loud, quickly remedying when you began to turn away, eyes on the ground. "Yes, of course. I'll see what I can do." It wouldn't be hard. Heaven knew how many times he'd had to butter up on charm for a discount for himself. Getting it for someone else would be a walk in the park.

"Okay." You looked back up. "Thank you."

"So we have a deal?" Coriolanus found himself nearly holding his breath. He almost kicked himself. An hour ago you were merely the youngest child of a disgraced family, only a classmate to him. But now you were the potential answer to his problems.

He couldn't say why he'd done it. Why he hadn't taken back what he'd said in the library and moved on. Seeing you look up at him had flipped a switch in his mind. Something about you was just...different.

After so many outings with women of his social class, he had come to know the way they all looked at him. There was a glint of hunger, and he knew what it was for. Money, power status. All packaged into one little look. You had more reason than any of them to have it, and he may have excused it if he did see it. But even when you were shyly asking him to use his connections, he didn't see it once.

Maybe that was why his heart practically jumped when you quietly said, "Yes." The way you responded was so meek. You were back to holding your bag strap, and another strand of hair had left your ponytail.

His heart jumped again. He'd have to get that under control if he was going to be spending so much time with you.

"Is this really necessary?"

Coriolanus took a sip of champagne before setting his glass down, staring at the curtain you were behind. You poked your head out, your ponytail falling over your shoulder. "I have plenty of clothes."

He knew that wasn't true. The sweater you'd worn to school that day had a hole in the shoulder and the hem, and he'd seen a new one under one of the arms when you reached for something on the counter. Even though you'd fixed your elbow back to the side almost immediately, he knew what he'd seen. It was third of a rotation of four sweaters he'd seen you in, and none of the others were in much better shape.

If he let you wear the same worn-out hand me downs as before, the relationship wouldn't be believable. Were you and him truly together, he would spoil you beyond belief.

"Yes," he responded, looking you in the eye. "It's necessary. Show me the first dress."

You exited, one hand tugging at the side of the silky black dress he'd picked out for you. "This is pretty."

"It is," he agreed, watching you look at yourself in the full-length mirror. The fabric clung to you everywhere it should, the slit in the leg not climbing high enough to be inappropriate. His eyes became fixed to the exposed sliver of your thigh for a moment before he shook it off. "We'll take that one. Try the others on too."

Pausing before you reached the fitting room, he saw you cup something in your hand, your neck bending to look at it. Whipping back around to Coriolanus, you took a step toward him with wide eyes. "This is too much."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Too much?"

You lowered your voice, eyes darting around the room even though it was just the two of you right then. "The price is too high." Shifting forward a little, you turned to the side, holding out the rounded tag so he could see.

Not bothering to look, Coriolanus shook his head. "It's fine. Go try another one."

"But-" You did a quick check of the room again before continuing. "I don't want you to spend so much on me."

"We still have to go to shoes and jewelry." Coriolanus pretended to check his watch, and you scurried back behind the curtain.

The rest of the dresses were a breeze. You slowly became more comfortable with it, fidgeting less with the fabric and standing up straight. By the last dress, he could nearly believe you were a high-born Capitol lady. Good. That was something to work with. He handed you off to one of the department store employees when you got to shoes and jewelry, wandering off to pick out a stack of new sweaters in your size.

He'd whispered a few extra instructions to the woman you'd walked off with, so after he'd handed over his card, he made himself comfortable in the furnished waiting area, accepting another glass of champagne. He pulled one of his schoolbooks out, figuring he'd knock out a bit of reading since you had both skipped the library to be here.

When you were brought back to him, your hair was tied up, and you were holding a small paper shopping bag. Coriolanus stood. You were back in the clothes you'd arrived in. "Where are the rest of your bags?"

"At the register," you said, biting the inside of your cheek. "This is more than I need-"

"What's in here?" he asked, gesturing to the bag you were holding.

He wanted to thumb your bottom lip away from your teeth. You were going to get a sore. "Hair things. And perfume. But Coriolanus-" Momentarily distracted by how your voice sounded around his name, he forced himself to listen. "-I can't bring any of this home."

"Why not?"

"My mother might..." you flushed. He nodded, urging you on. "The clothes would be fine because we don't wear the same size. But everything in here..." holding up the bag, you looked dejected. "She might take it and say it's for...clients."

"I see." He mulled it over for a moment, flipping through ideas. There was no way he'd ever admit it, but he knew the plight of having to guard fine possessions.

"Maybe I'll be able to hide it," you tried, swaying the bag. "I need to shower tonight with these. Maybe I can just hide them after I'm done."

"Here." Coriolanus held out his hand. When you hesitated, his voice dropped to a whisper. "We're supposed to be together."

You laced your fingers through his, and he picked up both your school bags and slung them over his opposite shoulder. The payment was already taken care of, and he knew the bags would have been brought out to the car already. Holding his head high, he guided you through the store, making sure you didn't fall behind him.

Once in the car, he turned the key and said casually. "We're going to mine."

"Why?" You pressed your knees together, brow knit once again. One day he'd like to take his thumb and smooth it out.

"So you can shower." Coriolanus pulled into the street, smoothly weaving through the few other cars out at this hour. "I'll have you home in time."

"Coriolanus," you said exasperatedly. "You already spent more on me today than anyone has in my life. You don't need to pretend with me in private too."

That snagged his attention. "It's not pretending with this. You..." Your eyes were on him, he could feel it. The pure magnetism of your being directed him to look back, and he would have had he not been driving. "You deserve nice things." There was more he could have said, but he left it at that. You were silent all the way to his penthouse.

The look on your face was similar to the one he'd seen when you first walked into the department store. You tried to play it off, but he knew the feeling well. Coriolanus' entire upbringing had been hinged on pretending not to have it. You hid it well, but he could still see the hints of it.

Coriolanus showed you to his bathroom, flipping the light on and setting you up with your new soap and perfume. He left you alone, wishing Tigris was here to balance things out. You needed a woman's touch, that much was clear.

He stayed in the living room after bringing one of the bags with your new sweaters and skirts inside, trying to pretend like he wasn't intrigued by the idea of you in clothes that weren't ill fitting.

It's not real, he reminded himself, staring at the notebook on the table. She's not your girlfriend. It's natural to be curious. It's just a girl in your bathroom.

"Coriolanus?"

His head snapped up. "Yes?"

"Um." There was a pause. "I'm bleeding."

"Bleeding?" Coriolanus leapt to his feet, rushing to the door. He pushed it open without thinking, greeted by the sight of you with a towel wrapped around your body, sitting on the bench in front of his bed. You were bent over, holding your hand to your leg, and when you looked up, your eyes were panicked.

"I cut myself when I was shaving," you said, voice small. "I'm sorry. I tried not to get blood on anything and I shouldn't have-"

"It's okay," he cut you off, disappearing into the bathroom and retrieving a band-aid from the cabinet, wetting one of his maroon washcloths before he went back to you. "Here."

You took the cloth, pressing it to the affected area and wincing a bit. Coriolanus sat with you on the bench, keeping about a foot of distance.

The towel was low on your chest, nearly exposing the tops of your breasts. Similarly, it hardly covered the tops of your thighs. More skin than likely anyone had ever seen from you. You hardly seemed concerned about it, brow knit over something trivial.

"I'm sorry," you repeated, looking up at him. He passed you the band-aid, and you very carefully peeled back the washcloth, and smoothed the sticky fabric over your skin.

"It's okay," he promised, a sense of familiarity washing over him that he wished he could shake off. "You're okay." Your wet hair was clinging to your shoulders, and it was easier to see the trimming you'd gotten in the department store.

He had to get out of there. "I'll be in the other room."

There was something about you that weakened him. That much was clear. Maybe he could back out of the deal, leave you with this one day of shopping and an awkward moment after you used his shower and go back to normal. Ignoring each other.

When you weren't wearing your glasses, he could see how pretty your eyes were. He inhaled sharply, swallowing and tapping a finger on the table. Back out. Definitely back out. This wasn't a good idea.

When you emerged from his bedroom, he had a speech prepared, but it all flew from his mind when he saw you fresh-faced and clean in your new sweater and skirt. You smiled, turning around and showing him the back. "Good?"

You inched closer, and he almost felt like he could see the difference. Some of the stress in your face had melted away, making you look younger almost. Between that and the clothes, you looked...pretty.

He stood, torn pieces of what he had been about to say coming back. "Good." Anything else he was about to say died on his lips when he inhaled, catching the scent of your perfume.

Roses. Coriolanus clenched his jaw.

Maybe he could manage to see this through.

[eddiemunsonsmiddlefingers]

I've never seen this before, but I've followed it unconsciously for a long time. I've dropped my stuff into those "your writing resembles...." analyzers a bunch of times, and 9 times out of 10 I get Chuck Palahniuk. It pleased me (I like his work) but also puzzled me because my writing and his don't....go in the same circles, so to speak.

I get it now, though!

...It's been years since I wrote anything for fun because I have a splitting headache pretty much 24/7. I don't know when I will be able to again (for the same reason) but...I miss it.

/rambling no one asked for

So... I found this and now it keeps coming to mind. You hear about "life-changing writing advice" all the time and usually its really not—but honestly this is it man.

I'm going to try it.

[modmad]

hey so, was SKIP! ever on American TV? and if so, how?????? cuz I am 100% sure that I watched SKIP! on the TV when I was younger, like, an actual child kinda younger. it was like PBS or something showing student animations I guess?? and I was so enamored with it, I was desperately upset that I had no idea where I'd be able to find it again because I didn't know what it was called. and then later on I just happened to read tpoh (cuz i love webcomics) and there it was. right beside everything else. do you have any idea how crazy that is. It was like finding a long lost friend! Anyway that was years ago but I just wanted you to know that, since I don't think I've told you before but I've been following you for years.

Also your doodleduck comics are REALLY GOOD and are my single entry point into that kind of older-ducktales stuff. (also this is kind of random but I think your comic about gladstone and white guilt is one of the better works of art I've seen on that subject matter which I find very impressive)(source: I am black lol) OH AND HOW COULD I FORGET!! The princess and the jester is, like, phenomenally well made both visually and with its writing. It literally gives me CHILLS to read it. Frankly everything you make is so gorgeous, I kind of want to be like you. In the back of my mind when I'm like "what kind of artist do I wanna be?" your little checkered blog icon always pops up eventually haha. ok bye!!

;A;

damn this whole message means a lot to me, and yes! for a short time VFS was airing on a tv channel, I forget which but that was very cool and they gave me 500 dollar bucks which was a huge windfall for impoverished student mod :D :D :D it means so much to me that you like my work and found me again, and that particular duck comic was so scary for me to make but I've had so many wonderfully supportive messages from people like yourself that I'm really glad I stuck to my guns and listened to it. that was another 'seized from beyond by something bigger than myself' story moment... I'm glad it paid off and I hope I can continue to make things that scare me shitless but do some good in the world.

[crunchystarz]

Hello!

I’d like to request a oneshot with Kalim x fem s/o where it dawns on Kalim that his s/o is the only girl in an all boys school and now he’s starting to notice every stare and gift other guys are trying to give his s/o causing him to be a bit jealous and protective

(I hope the reader being fem is okay bc if not then you can totally ignore this request!!)

"Me jealous?!?...I'm totally jealous"

Kalim Al Asim x Fem!Reader

Summary: Kalim realizes he's not the only one who wants your love and attention

Cw- none, just fluff

Word count: 1545

A/N: GAH sorry this took so long I've been so busy with finals; also imma be so fr I basically blacked out when writing this so if it's not perfect again y'all always can leak my address;

Thank y'all sm for 100+ followers already like 🙁 y'all are so cool pls don't explode

Night Naven College was an all-boys school. Always has been. You were the first exception to that. You were the only girl who ended up becoming a student.

When Kalim first met you he never paid mine to that fact. To Kalim you were Just another student ; a new friend to be made. However, after getting closer to you the housewarden couldn't deny the fact you made his chest feel all fuzzy.

He's always surrounding himself with people but you're his favorite person to be around. He will always try and seek you out in a crowd because you were the one who made his heart beat so fast.

He loved the way you'd run a hand through his hair whenever he'd lay on your lap or the fact you were always down with whatever he came up with. How you truly did care for the people around you.

You were perfect in Kalim’s eyes.

Kalim ended up mentioning these feelings to Jamil offhandedly; Which after a little talk with him. He came to the conclusion he liked you. Not just in his usual friendly way either. He was head over heels.

However you being the only girl meant you had many eyes on you no doubt. It's always been that way since you became a student however Kalim only started paying attention to it once he recognized his crush.

He couldn't help the way his chest turned whenever another would give you big puppy eyes or would be overly friendly with you. He didn't get it. You weren't his…yet. So why does he get jealous so easily?

He couldn't blame others for liking you. You were well you. You were smart, kind and pretty, how couldn't they fall for you? He just wished he had all your attention sometimes even if it did feel selfish.

He'd often subconsciously glare at others who linger on you too long. He'd also be quick to kill you closer to him in a crowded area or lead you somewhere else all together just to get your full attention. It was clear to most people he had a thing for you.

Kalim fidgeted and watched as the pink haired boy shyly handed you a bracelet. It was just made out of colorful rubber bands. He could give you something much nicer… but you looked so happy receiving it.

Was it the thought that counted? Is that why you took it and smiled so brightly? Kalim slightly pouted to himself. He felt so uncomfortable. He wasn't used to being jealous. He wanted to be the one to make you smile like that.

The snowy hair bit his lip as he remembered the conversation he and Jamil had a few days earlier.

“You know Kalim you should tell her how you feel, she's not exactly going to be on the market forever you know” Jamil spoke, dusting the shelf that had started to collect dust.

Kalim huffed and groaned. Jamil was right. You weren't going to just be up for grabs forever. But how would he just tell you how he feels…

This was too complicated! Kalim wasn't used to not being able to express how he felt. He wants to tell you that you mean a lot to him. Which he does all the time but he wants you to know he doesn't mean it in the same way he means to his other friends.

He wants you to know you're special, that you're an even brighter star compared to him. Yet he's afraid that he'll mess everything up. What if you don't feel the same way about him? Kalims frown deepened and he sighed, slumping his shoulders.

Kalim played with the bracelet in his hands. Was this good enough? He made it himself with charms that reminded him of you. He didn't register the sound of footsteps approaching behind him.

“Good afternoon Kalim!” your voice rang out. The house warden basically sprung up, a smile spreading across his face upon hearing your voice. He turned and shoved the bracelet into his pocket.

“Hi, name!” He chirped, hugging you tightly. You let out a soft chuckle before wrapping your arms around him as well. He pulled away with a big dopey smile. You tilted your head and looked around.

“Jamil, is he not with you?” you asked. Kalim shook his head. You let out a hum before shrugging lightly. You flashed him a smile causing blood to rush to his cheeks.

“Well it's nice to catch you alone for once you always seem to be around someone, sometimes it's nice when it's just the two of us” you spoke, Kalim’s red eyes watched you.

He couldn't help the way his smile got bigger at your words. He felt the same way; it made his heart leap.

“Yup…just the two of us!” He exclaimed, his voice a little higher in pitch. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, his fingers running over the bracelet. He was about to speak before you cut him off.

“You don't have any more classes today right?” You asked, turning your full attention to the house warden once more. Kalim nodded his head.

“Great, would you mind if I hung out in scarabia with you?” You said with a small tilt of your head.

“No, I wouldn't mind at all!” The snowy hair perked up.

On the walk there it was like Kalim was hyper aware of every guy to look in your direction. It made him feel so bad for feeling so bitter about it but he couldn't help it. Couldn't these guys just mind their own business?

You seemed to take notice of his demeanor being off“You okay, Kalim?” you asked softly, your voice laced with concern. Your hand gently tugging on his sleeve.

Kalim blinked, snapping out of his thoughts. “Huh? Oh! Yeah, I’m fine! Totally fine!” He gave you a wide smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. Odd.

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Are you sure? You’ve been kind of quiet.”

He swallowed nervously. You knew him too well. “I guess… I’ve just been thinking a lot lately,” he admitted, his voice softer.

You tilted your head, curiosity sparkling in your eyes. “Thinking? About what?”

Kalim hesitated for a moment before taking a deep breath. “I’ve been thinking about… you,” he confessed, his cheeks flushing a deep red. He couldn’t meet your gaze, his eyes glued to the ground.

“And how… you make me really happy.”

His words caught you off guard and you looked up at him. “I make you happy?” you repeated, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Kalim nodded quickly, his usual energy bubbling to the surface despite his nerves. “Yeah! Like, more than anyone else. I love being around you, and I always want to make you smile. But lately, I’ve been feeling… different.”

“And what do you mean by different?” You spoke moving closer to him. Your chest swirling with an …off but comforting feeling.

“Well it's just I… I get all weird whenever other guys start paying attention to you…” He admitted sheepishly. Your grin turned a bit more teasing.

“Awh, sounds like you're jealous,” you teased. His face redder a bit and he looked away.

“I …am” he responded. You weren't expecting him to just openly admit it. You blinked and recollected your thoughts. You cleared your throat before speaking.

“Well that's actually kind of nice… to know you care enough to get jealous over me out of all people” you said, your tone a bit quieter now.

“Well of course I care about you…”

It got quiet for a bit. Neither of you speaking, just watching each other.

Kalim fidgeted with the bracelet still in his pocket, finally pulling it out and holding it out to you. “ Oh I made this for you. I’ve been trying to find the right time to give it to you…"

Your eyes softened as you reached out to take the bracelet, your fingers brushing against his. The charms were small but thoughtful .

“Kalim… it’s beautiful,” you whispered, slipping it onto your wrist.

“Thank y-”

“I-I like you!” he blurted out, his words tumbling over each other in his excitement. “Not just as a friend. I mean… I really really like you. You’re amazing, and I don’t want to keep it to myself anymore.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, but your smile grew even brighter. “Kalim…”

He held his breath, waiting for your response. His heart pounded so loudly he was sure you could hear it.

“I like you too,” you said softly. “I’ve liked you for a while now.”

Kalim’s eyes lit up like fireworks, a beaming grin spreading across his face. “You do? Really?”

You nodded, reaching out to take his hand. “Really. You’re the brightest part of my day, Kalim.”

Unable to contain his excitement, Kalim pulled you into a tight hug, spinning you around. You yelped in surprise.

As he set you down, still holding your hand, he looked at you with a warmth that made your cheeks flush.

“So… does this mean I can be your boyfriend?” he asked with a hopeful grin.

You chuckled softly and nodded. “I’d love that.”

Kalim’s heart soared. He never imagined this moment could feel so perfect. You were his now — and he was yours. Nothing could make him happier.

Jamil would never hear the end of how much he loves his girlfriend.

MASTERLIST

[spritesitrus]

Heyo!

What's a headcanon/story about your Koopalings, that no one has asked the right question yet, for you to tell about?

(Like, you have a headcanon about their favourite foods or something, but no one has asked about that yet)

I totally forgot to share their dynamics like long ago so quick chart I made to quickly summarize the more important dynamics (plus some extra ones)

The last one is a little joke that goes with a short fic I was writing of the Koops worrying about Jr and Larry becoming adults since enough bad things have happened to the rest of them because of lore reasons™ (the point in which this fic takes place in my timeline is when everyone's doin' good tho so nothing to worry about)

Anyways I wanted to share some little tidbits of the fic cuz why not

Also as a treat, I will share some dumb trivia for them (I did already share some of Iggy's stuff before but I'll just leave it here since I just took it from these lol ToT) and I've included Jr as well!

Cooking Skills

Ludwig- Cooking hasn't been his strong suit for a long time and prefers to not “Meddle with those affairs”(his words). 

Lemmy- He's able to cook but usually only cooks stuff he knows and never really ventures out to try new things. But he's always happy to try if it's something everyone agrees on wanting to eat. 

Morton- Used to suck but has become the best chef out of all of them. He enjoys cooking for others and always offers to do it. 

Roy- Can cook basic level things but he's not really good at it. He doesn't like waiting so sometimes it gets burnt. 

Iggy- Absolute dogshit at cooking. Do not let him near a stove unless you want something to blow up. 

Wendy- She's good at cooking but it's not something she likes doing regularly all the time. God forbid having to cook with her other siblings too, it'd just be chaos. 

Larry- Only knows how to use the michael wave.

Jr- He waits to be served.

Singing Voice (formatted this on an understanding that this is them having a karaoke night)

Ludwig- He's good at singing but I think it's one of those voices that are just decent in their own way rather than being outstanding. It's probably one of the few things Ludwig is okay about not being perfect. 

Lemmy- He's pretty tone deaf but he tries. Everyone cheers him on for his enthusiasm. 

Morton- He sings quietly but he's not actually half-bad. It's not something he really likes doing so he just lets anyone else sing if they want the mic. 

Roy- Not that great and he falsettos a lot. He probably steals the mic the most. 

Iggy- He's alright at singing but can’t reach high notes well and is quite flat. 

Wendy- The best singer out of them all. She has a powerful voice and is a showoff about it. 

Larry- His singing is quite nice but prefers rapping more. He's the type of mf who beatboxes at crazy speeds. 

Jr- He's actually pretty good at singing too but it embarrasses him the most since everyone is so enthusiastic for him when he does. 

Dance Skills

Ludwig- Only knows how to waltz because of course he does. Outside of that, he dances exactly like a dad. He makes sure to avoid Bowser during parties so the others can't compare them. 

Lemmy- A total dancing machine. He mostly likes to do break dancing and disco but can quickly pick up on other dances as well. 

Morton- Doesn't seem like someone who dances, but he will get down if the situation calls for it. 

Roy- A great dancer who always likes to show off whenever he's partying. He can breakdance, pop and lock, moonwalk, you name it, he can do it. He's also a really good teacher and teaches a dance class in his spare time. The only time he ever wanted to give up on a student was when he was teaching Iggy. 

Iggy- Can't dance for shit, like he literally has no rhythm. The only move he knows is the floss and it took the gang forever to teach him how in the first place. 

Wendy- A very graceful dancer and knows ballet. Though she's always ready to be on the dance floor too. How could she not when she and Roy are literally besties?

Larry- A pretty good dancer. He can pick up moves easily and knows how to groove. 

Jr- He tries to act too cool and cross his arms all like “Heh, I don't dance” but in reality, it's because he's embarrassed that he's a clumsy dancer. 

[umblrspectrum]

i love learning cursive just to write text for exactly one character

[calamitoustide]

June 1st: Stitches | jegulus | @taylorswiftmicrofic |wc 606 | cw: blood

“Quit being a baby.” 

James rolls his eyes, “You’re the one who can’t even look at my hand.” 

Regulus glances down only to grimace at the sight of the blood, even with a cloth wrapped around it. It was a stupid accident really. Regulus had to spend the entire time at his parents' house packing up all their old things in boxes and figuring out what to do with old antiques neither he nor Sirius would ever want. Emotionally the act of it wasn’t draining, but being in that house again certainly was. James wanted to go with him but Regulus declined, it was just going to be him and Sirius, and James respected that. He wanted to make dinner for him to come home to instead, one of his mum’s recipes. He called her that morning and everything making sure every detail of it would be right… and then well… It was already getting late and Regulus was going to be home soon so he was trying to rush. Then the blood spilled all over the cutting board and James couldn’t even register the pain of it all before Regulus was walking in. 

That’s how they got to now. 

“I don’t like blood,” Regulus mutters, even saying that he still lifts the bandage to take a look at the damage again. 

James just laughs at him, “Weren’t you pre-med?” 

Regulus sends him a pointed look, “Shut up.” 

“I’m just saying how did you expect to actually pass if you can’t stand the sight of a little blood?” James teases. 

Regulus shakes his head, “Do you want me to just finish the job and rip your finger off?” 

James reaches forward with his other hand so grab at his cheek, “You love me.” 

Regulus pushes him away, “You bug me.” 

James hums, overtaken by the concern on Regulus’ face as he looks back at the wound. He finds his thumb trying to push away the worried crease between his eyebrows. Regulus doesn’t slap his hand away, he lets him drag it down to his cheek. Regulus doesn’t look up at him again and he pauses, “What is it?” 

Regulus sighs, “You cut yourself,” he says, but it comes out more like a whine. Regulus will never admit it to anyone but he’s always the first one to coddle James. More so than James coddles Regulus which is actually a hard thing to accomplish. He’s always been the softer one between the two of them. He kisses James’ old scars and watches him with big wide eyes when he speaks. James wants to hug him. He wants to place kisses all over his face until he melts in his hand. 

“Yeah,” James laughs shortly, “I got that much.” 

Regulus doesn’t laugh along with him, “You’re gonna need stitches, James.” 

James scoffs, “It doesn’t even hurt!” 

Regulus looks up at him, pausing for a prolonged moment. As the moment goes on there’s a sharp stinging in James’ hand, almost like a buzzing in his ear he’d forgotten the sound of. It starts off small until it overwhelms him—it’s everywhere. 

“It just started hurting, didn’t it?” 

James bites his tongue, not knowing if he can speak without his voice straining, “Uh-huh.” 

Regulus laughs softly, “Come on,” he places his hand on his lower back as he guides him to the front door. 

James pouts, “You’re so mean to me.” 

Regulus rolls his eyes, “I’ll buy you a toy after.” 

James shakes his head as Regulus opens the passenger side door for him, “I want ice cream.” 

Regulus sighs softly, “Then you’ll get ice cream, now get in the car.” 

[lunarharp]

into the deep end - 30k T orufrey fic, focusing on memory trauma, disability, and romance.

the sweet oblivion of the victim, the poisoned freedom of the witch.

for one moment - it had felt like two parts returned - the needed reunion of two disparate halves. no more secrets, no more pain.

the moment you get to give back what you never wanted to take. that moment, under the night-blooming flowers, when they had both let out the same single broken sigh of relief.

but they were never whole to begin with, were they?

qifrey swore he wouldn't say 'sorry' to this man any more if he could help it - sorry is cheap now. he didn't want to be in a position ever again where you only have 'sorry' left. so he just looks down into the threads of his blanket, strains his eye until it hurts, feeling his insides - his throat, heart and head - burn with pain. he expects more, but olly says nothing.

olly says nothing.

[izamationbroker]

My current job is pretty laidback about us having phones out and listening to music as we work sorting archaeological artifacts in a lab, so I've started binge-rewatching Durarara!! from the very beginning.

I've already finished the original run yesterday and just started x2 Shou, but some thoughts I had:

At least in the anime adaptation, the original run was meant to be pretty self-contained in the event they weren't able to continue (which to be fair was true for quite a while before x2 got greenlit), so rather than consider the original run a "phase one" of Izaya's grander scheme to start a gang war and awaken Celty's head it makes a bit more sense to think of it in the context of a failed first attempt.

In that context, it makes me wonder how he felt about it, his first grand failure. Grand enough that he felt the need to step back and lay low so he could go back to the drawing board (see: his initial conversation with Shizuo in ep 25).

I honestly bet he picked a fight with Shizuo just to take out his frustrations on it all. He managed to create a messy three-way conflict and get Celty roped into it as Anri and Mikado's friend, but the head gave narry a stir. Not to mention, Celty was able to help them resolve things pretty easily by just getting these dumb kids to actually talk to each other.

I don't remember the episode number because I just binged the whole thing, but Shingen at one point suggests that rather than rope Celty into a conflict, Izaya should try to center the conflict around Celty herself. Izaya claimed he was doing just that, but I don't think he really succeeded in the initial run. Sure, Celty was involved, but more as an independent third (fourth?) party than as a focal point. She was in the Dollars and friends with both Anri and Mikado, but she didn't really have much of a stake in the squabble itself. That was just a big messy of miscommunication between three high schoolers completely unrelated to her. That must have been frustrating, honestly, getting so close but falling just short of what he needed.

Then, on top of everything else, he wasn't even really involved in the resolution of the fight itself, either. He says in his theory that he needs to create a war only HE can win, right? I'd imagine that's why he was fucking around with a bunch of kids rather than the bigger leagues like the Yakuza that he works with regularly: it's a lot easier to insert yourself as an authority as the only adult. He'd be able to take control of that situation so easily, but Celty took that role instead, so he never even got a chance to win the war.

And to blow off steam from his initial failure, what does he do? He deliberately picks a fight with Shizuo, someone he generally tries to avoid when he can help it, by fucking with his brother's safety.

I wonder if he needed to feel alive for a minute by reminding himself of the loom of death. Shizuo's arguably the only one that actually threatens Izaya enough to feel any sense of awe or dread. I wonder if he wanted to put himself in that position to remind himself what was at stake and give him the motivation to go back to the drawing board and try again. He really does have a Shizuo Complex in that sense.

Anyway, I might do Shou, Ten, and Ketsu individually as I finish them, but if anyone would prefer a liveblog instead, lmk. I might stop at Shou for now, tho, because Wa-kun and I are I thiiiink like halfway through Ten? And I don't wanna spoil them with my rambling.

[redgearsmovin]

man .

[whattheskyknows]

13 students update: progress has been slow but I am getting there!!!

[tardis--dreams]

You know what? I give up on this paper once and for all. I'm not even ashamed anymore

[icewindandboringhorror]

Misc. photos from the past year or so ~

[optiwashere]

Random thoughts create silly fics.

This fic is all my own mind poison because I thought, "what about her birthdays?" one time. First morn days in the Forgotten Realms have the kinds of celebrations you'd expect, but for someone who was a Sharran most of her life?

Rating: G

Category: F/F

Ship: Shadowheart/Trans Fem Tav

Summary:

While still recovering in Baldur's Gate, Shadowheart nearly forgets to tell Asheera it's her first morn day. Or: Shadowheart can't remember what it's like to celebrate her birthday.