#my brain came up with this joke while I was on the toilet

[boobiemom]

Catgirl with a gun and sword!

[wyattjohnston]

turbulent - nico hischier

summary: a bumpy flight forces two people closer together.

word count: 2,790

note: this is for @dunnerlars as part of the summer fic exchange 2k24. i really hope you like it ash <3 thanks to @offside-the-lines for putting up with me going through the five stages of grief whilst trying to pull this together!

There was an element of strangeness to working on an NHL charter flight; most perplexing, even still, to Bonnie was the sudden way they all stripped out of their suits the second the seatbelt sign was turned off. She understood that sitting in a suit for six hours wasn’t comfortable, and also understood that the toilets were not big enough for giant men to reasonably change—she chose to spend time in the galley while they were doing it, because it was impossible not to stare inappropriately if she was walking the aisles.

“I thought you were joking,” Alice said, returning to the galley wide eyed and keeping the curtain closed with a hard fist against the cabin wall.

Bonnie hummed without turning around. “Everyone does.”

Short of holding her coworkers hostage in the galley, there wasn’t much Bonnie could do beyond warning them about what they’d see if they wandered the plane before she told them to. So, without fail, they all got caught in the aisles as some twenty odd men stood in unison and started to remove their pants.

“I know athletes have no shame in locker rooms,” Alice whispered aggressively, still with a firm grip on the curtain, “but this is a plane. There are people out there! Journalists!”

“This happens every flight,” Bonnie stressed. “Everyone is used to it. Some of the journalists might even be changing, too.”

Alice’s eyes widened, so big that Bonnie had a mild concern that they would come out of her head, and they only returned to normal when the captain’s voice came over the speaker.

“Hello everyone, sorry to interrupt your flight so early on, we have just been made aware of some unexpected weather on route to Los Angeles. We’ll do our best to make any necessary deviations to avoid patches of turbulence without adding too much extra time to the flight. For your own safety, please keep your seatbelts fastened and only move around the cabin if necessary. Thank you.”

Bonnie sighed, her chin dropping to her chest, at the thought of yet another turbulent flight. Alice groaned. It had been an uncommonly turbulent couple of weeks across both of their flights, even in completely different areas and directions—it was the first thing they’d spoken about when they met before getting on the plane.

“I can’t unsee any of that,” Alice said, finally letting go of the curtain.

“I mean, yeah, but there are worse things to have burnt into your brain.”

Alice readily agreed, even took a moment to subtly peak back into the cabin.

Bonnie still vividly remembered the first time she’d witnessed it. She would never forget the eye contact she’d made with the team’s captain before her eyes were drawn to his bare chest, the tattoo on the inside of his bicep—

“What can I do for you?”

“I’m just here to see Bonnie.”

Said chest and said tattoo blazed in Bonnie’s mind, and then she made eye contact with the team’s captain and sighed softly.

“Hi, Nico,” she greeted. “My captain said you were meant to remain seated with your seatbelt on.”

He smiled knowingly, “Good luck with that.”

Alice disappeared back into the cabin when someone pressed the call button and Nico moved out of her way with a practiced ease, even as Bonnie began to organise the food trolley for the first pass through.

“I just wanted to come check on you; you weren’t on the last few flights.”

“Just a sinus infection,” she said, as if it hadn’t written her off for a week and a half. “Didn’t want my eardrums to explode, you know?”

“You’re okay?” he asked, his hand coming to rest on her forearm. Concern radiated off him.

Bonnie covered his hand with her own, smiling softly and saying reassuringly, “I’m all better.”

Nico stayed while Bonnie finished filling the trolley. The flights were the three after the All-Star Break, so he had plenty of stories to tell to keep her occupied. The Swiss boys had headed to Mexico, of which she was jealous. It hadn’t been too cold in Jersey, but the need for sun had been growing and growing since Christmas, and the longing had only gotten more intense after being cooped up in her own apartment.

“Have you been?” Nico asked.

“No,” Bonnie said with a shake of her head. “One of my college friends had a vacation home in Fort Lauderdale so we did Spring Br—shit.”

The trolley rattled, a few trays coming half out of their places, and Bonnie watched helplessly as the last knife and fork fell off the counter.

“What the fuck is going on today?” Nico asked, causing Bonnie's eyes to snap up. He had a hand on each of the high cabinets either side of the galley.

“You should go back to your seat,” Bonnie said, picking up the lost cutlery and dropping into what would become the dirty dishes container. “I’ll be out in a second. Put your seatbelt on.”

Nico nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

Bonnie was friendly with all the players, staff and media on the flight. Most of them were familiar faces, especially halfway through the season, but anybody she didn’t know was introduced to her with a startling amount of enthusiasm from whichever player had taken it upon themselves to do so—normally it was Luke, being egged on by Nate. She always made sure they had the same energy for whoever had been assigned to work with her, whether or not they had ever met before. Alice looked delighted by the attention; Bonnie hoped it was just the energy being contagious.

If they lingered a little longer next to Nico, who politely ignored Alice’s doe eyes, and Jesper, so that they could get his round up of the All-Star Game, that was purely coincidental.

Back in the galley, Alice was poised to ask many questions. Bonnie could feel the curiosity bursting from her, it only becoming more obvious with every passing minute of silence. Every now and then Bonnie was assigned to work with someone who couldn’t quite handle it. Bonnie would never put in any complaints herself for some lowkey fangirling, but she had had a few coworkers who had been asked to never work a team’s charter flight again.

“Say whatever it is you want to say,” Bonnie said after Alice’s eagerness became too much to bear.

“Did they ask for you to be on all their flights?”

“Uh…” Bonnie hesitated, rolling the question around in her mind. She wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it wasn’t that “I don’t think so? I think it’s just easier to have someone who knows all the ins and outs. I didn’t think they could request people.”

“The Rangers do it,” Alice said casually, as she pulled out a new tray of water bottles from the fridge, “but I think that’s because she’s sleeping with one of the players.”

Bonnie was nodding, distracted by someone pressing the call button, and responded mindlessly, “Yeah, that’s pretty norm—Wait, what? I didn’t know anything about that!”

“That’s what I heard,” Alice said, looking and sounding suspiciously like Alexis Rose. “Super juicy. They wouldn’t tell me which player which was upsetting.”

“I wouldn’t want to know anyway,” Bonnie said, largely trying to convince herself because, though she would never admit aloud, she was not immune to gossip. “I couldn’t look them in the face again.”

The plane rumbled.

“Fine, I won’t tell you when I find out, but I also won’t tell anybody you’re sleeping with Nico. Promise.”

Bonnie’s neck snapped as she turned to glare at Alice. “Yeah, you better not because I’m not sleeping with Nico.”

“Oh, really? Damn.” Alice pouted. “You so could be, though. Should be.”

The thing about that was that Bonnie knew she could be. Nico had never made it explicitly clear, but nobody else on the team spent any time in the galley with her during flights. Nobody else ever got up and sought her out when they needed something.

Nobody else touched her so effortlessly, so naturally, when in her space without at all being in the way or a burden.

Nobody else ever looked at her like she was the best thing to happen in their day.

Bonnie tried her hardest to hide the small sigh that escaped her lips. She made direct eye contact with Alice as she moved the conversation along.

“How did you even find out about the Rangers thing? This is your first flight.”

Alice, either oblivious to the redirect or just so interested in the gossip that she didn’t mind, rattled on, “They brought me in for orientation and the woman they left me with is chatty.”

Bonnie knew the exact woman being referred to—in fact, she’d been subtly blacklisted from the Devils’ flights at the beginning of that season for some very inappropriate and entirely unsubtle flirting.

Alice was still talking, even as she left the galley with her tray of water bottles and crossed through the curtain, stopping mid-word to change topics and start a conversation with the person sitting directly on the other side.

A brief jolt came over the plane and Bonnie groaned. It was followed by a considerable rattle.

She was second guessing her career choice as her stomach lurched with the plane when Nico, once again, appeared in the galley. His closed-mouth smile was genuine if not a little cautious and it set Bonnie at ease.

Until she felt more turbulence and was met with Nico’s uncertain head tilt.

“You can stay, but you have to sit there,” Bonnie told him, putting a hand on his shoulder to forcibly turn him around to look at the jump seat she was pointing at. “And put your seatbelt on.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said. When he sat down, he only broke eye contact to find the seatbelt. “What did you do while we were on break?”

The shelves were rattling around her.

“Worked other flights like I normally do when you guys are at home for a while,” Bonnie answered. “I don’t just sit at home and wait for the team to go on a road trip, you know.”

“That… that makes a lot of sense,” he admitted, his cheeks turning the slightest bit red. “I don’t know why I thought you only flew with us.”

“Sometimes I fly with the Knicks, sometimes there’s some commercial flights. You boys are my favourites, though.”

Nico’s sweet smile turned just ever so slightly into a smirk. “I knew we would be.”

“You didn’t even know there were others,” Bonnie said, laughing.

“Yeah, but obviously.”

Bonnie’s eye roll was good natured, her laughter continuing as Nico’s smirk morphed back into its purest, most genuine form.

She kept looking back at him as she continued to work, sometimes to show she was listening and other times just to look. He was often looking back.

Their peacefulness was interrupted by the ding of the seatbelt sign being switched on and the plane’s captain making an announcement.

“Everybody, including cabin crew, the seatbelt sign has been turned on. Please make your way back to your seats immediately and put on your seatbelt; we don’t expect that to be the last patch and we apologise for our lack of notice on that one. If you need emergency assistance, please press the call button and someone will be with you as soon as it is safe.”

The inclusion of the cabin crew set Bonnie on edge, and she was halfway to demanding Nico return to his seat and hunting Alice down to drag her back when the plane shook even more violently than it had the entire life.

Bonnie’s feet momentarily left the floor. She could hear some shouting from the cabin. She could hear luggage bouncing in the nearest overhead lockers. She made eye contact with Nico—all colour was drained from his face.

“Where’s Alice?” Bonnie asked, holding desperately onto the galley counter behind her back. “She needs to be sitting down.”

Nico leant as far as he could, peeking down the aisle, before saying firmly, “She’s in my seat. Come here.”

Bonnie didn’t let go of the counter as she walked, her eyes never leaving the seat opposite Nico, and she was confident she was going to make it before the next bump. She looked back into the aisle when she could, instantly looking to Nico’s normal seat to see Alice expertly calming down some very nervous men, and relaxed knowing that she was safe.

Naturally, the plane started to tremble just a bit harder the very second she was feeling comfortable, and the oh shit had barely left her mouth before the plane dropped again. Her mind filled with all the things that could happen, where her head and the plane would meet, all the things that would inevitably fall on her if she was unable to get off the floor. And then—

“Gopf.”

She was hauled by the arm with an abrupt and unexpected force, all momentum she’d gained coming to a crashing halt when she collided with Nico’s chest and was held firmly in place by his arms wrapped around her.

“This is the worst flight I’ve ever been on.”

“Go on a date with me.”

Bonnie froze in Nico’s arms; no thoughts being given to the next bumpy patch and all thoughts being focused on his words and the way his arms squeezed just a little bit together.

“What?” she asked, breathless. “Nico.”

“I kind of feel like we might be about to die,” he said—it wasn’t totally clear if he was being serious or not, but he was sincere in his tone. “I don’t want that to happen without at least asking.”

She sighed wistfully, swooning closer to him in their already intimate position. Nico’s eyes dropped to Bonnie’s mouth, causing her to bite her lip and turn her head.

“I shouldn’t have asked?” Nico asked cautiously, his arms loosening around her waist. “I’m sorry.”

Bonnie shook her head, and said in a whisper, “You should have. I’m just—I’m working. I wish I wasn’t working.”

Out of the corner of her eye she caught Nico’s small, pleased expression, and revelled in the delight in his voice when he said, mostly to himself, “I’ll ask again when we’re off the plane.”

For her own sanity, and to remain professional whilst working, Bonnie took the slight break in turbulence as an opportunity to move to the empty jump seat on the other side of the galley. Nico’s hands lingered on her waist as she left, and his eyes burnt holes in the side of her head. She was determinedly looking down the aisle, carefully not looking at anybody sitting down.

The turbulence continued, the seatbelt sign remained on, but Bonnie and Alice were free to move around the cabin. Nico went back to his seat when Alice returned, the smile he sent Bonnie had Alice turning to her deviously.

“Are you sure you aren’t fucking him?”

“I would remember.”

Alice prattled on about maybe the sex being so good that it was affecting Bonnie’s memory, not letting up even as they prepared the cabin for landing—both of them steering clear of the cabin as the players stripped down to change back into their suits. It was amazing how much work she could get done whilst her mouth was moving a million miles a minute, seemingly every thought coming out in a stream of consciousness. It may have been about Bonnie, but it was still enough for Bonnie to tune out the exact words and just let it become background noise that distracted her from thinking about whether or not Nico was in fact going to find her once the plane had landed.

As always, the players were the first off of the plane, most of them thanking Bonnie and Alice, whilst others looked a bit too green to speak. Nico was the last of the players to disembark, slightly uncommon but not unheard of. Bonnie had to keep her eyes trained on his face because she knew if she even looked at Alice for a moment the endless talking would restart.

“I, uh, don’t actually know if I can miss the team bus from the airport,” he said, his eyebrows knitted tightly together and his voice solemn. “But if I could get your number, we could meet up later? For dinner?”

“Yeah,” Bonnie nodded, blushing. “I’d like that a lot.”

Nico pulled out his phone for Bonnie to enter her number, and, when she was finished, she made accidental eye contact with Alice who had, to Bonnie’s dismay, started to dance in the galley.

[shelbgrey]

Baby on the brain(Derek Shepherd)

Request: @emalynvtgtgfhvgg can you do a Derek Shepherd x YN? Where she’s at work and throws up Bailey runs a test and she’s pregnant plssssss

Paring: Derek Shepherd x reader x Miranda Bailey

Greys MasterList

“we could get Ben to cook some steaks on the grill” I said scrubbing my hands with Bailey next to me. The two of us were trying to plan a get-together with Ben and Derek.

“we could do that, but I think we should pick the movie this time” Bailey said shaking her head. I chuckled remembering the last time we had a movie night and Ben bright the movie Annabelle, me nor Bailey had a fun night. We spent half the night hiding in our husbands arm.

Alex came in next and started to scrub his hands. “What are we talking about?” he asked genuinely curious. I looked over to my best friend and smiled as I tide my checkered scrub cap on my head.

“talking about Ben and Derek terrorizing us with Annabelle”

“mosty we're planning a date... Not that's any of your business” Bailey scoffed but gave him a smile so he knew she was joking. Alex chuckled as he continued to scrub in.

As the two continued to talk I felt my stomach start to turn and the smell of the water running made me sick. I sighed and gripped the edges of the scrubbing sink.

“N/n? You okay?” Bailey placed her hand on my shoulder a rubbed it.

“y/n?” Alex asked.

“I think I'm gonna Hurl” I mumbled holding my hand near my mouth while also trying to steady my breathing. “Yep, definitely gonna hurl”

I sprinted out of the scrubbing room and into the closet bathroom. I ran through the bathroom door and ripped the biggest stall open making it fly backwards and banging up against the one next door.

The noise stung my ears but I was glad it was masking the nauseating sounds of me emptying my sorry excuse of a stomach.

“you wait here” I hear a muffled Bailey tell Alex.

“Y/n are you okay?” Bailey asked from behind as she held my hair back. I let out a breath and rested my damp forehead on my arm. I let out a cough as Bailey backed up so a could set down away from the toilet. I pressed my back up against the cold metal stall as she rubbed my back.

“I'm okay, I'm okay” I whispered as I pulled my scrub cap off my head. Bailey's brown eyes stared at me with concern. She then looked at me up and down as the gears in her head turned.

“what?” I asked.

“could you be pregnant?” she asked. I staired at her for a brief second then burst out laughing which made Alex knock.

“everything okay in there?” he yelled from the other side of the door. We ignored him and Bailey studied my expression with shock and confusion.

“I can't get pregnant” I mumbled. Bailey wrinkled her eye browse with a sad experience. “who said you can't get pregnant?”

I sighed as stood up from the cold floor then hopped onto the counter that was next to the sink. “I was about 16 when they said I couldn't get pregnant...”

Bailey crossed her arms and gave my a look with nothing but sympathy. “dose Derek know?”

I nodded sadly. “we still talk about building a family. We want kids... I think we talk about it a lot to cope with it all”

Bailey sighed but had a spark in her eyes that held nothing but hope. “ya know... Your showing sings, your nauseous, your brests are bigger... Your moody... More than usual. When was your last cycle?”

I looked up and counted the days. The more I counted and did the math, the faster my heart fluttered. I hadn't had my period this month but I thought it was due to stress. I looked at Bailey and covered my mouth.

“I can't be” Bailey smiled and shrugged. “only one way to find out”

Bailey walked over the entrance of the bathroom and opened the door. Alex tumbled forward but cought himself on the door frame. I giggled as Bailey shot him a scowl.

“Karev go get a pregnancy test” Bailey told him. His eyes bugged out then he looked over to me with a big smile.

“Pronto Karev, and don't let anyone see ya either!” Bailey said. Alex quickly dashed out of the bathroom and went on his mission. He came back ten minutes late and handed me a cup.

“okay pee in this” he said handing me the cup. I wasn't phased by his choice of words but Bailey rolled her eyes. “classy Karev, real classy”

Did my business and handed the cup to Alex with the cap on. He held it with a digusted expression. I honestly don't blame him, dispite us being as close as siblings I wouldn't want to hold a cup of his pee.

“I think we're waisting our time” I sighed.

Alex shrugged. “I don't know, it looks like pregnancy pee to me”

Me and Bailey scoffed. “Karev get it the lab!” Bailey said pointing to the door. Alex busted out laughing and left the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~(.......)~~~~~~~~

“Hey, beautiful” Derek smiled coming up to me in the hallway. I smiled as he put his arm on my shoulder. “hey”

I dropped off my patients chart at the nurse's station then filled out a form to release a patient that was on mine and Owen's service. Derek was leaning on the nurse's station telling me about his surgery when Bailey came up to us with a big smile.

“I need to talk to you” she said pointing to me then turn to Derek. “both of you... If you want” she said looking at me.

I crossed my arms and looked at her trying to put the pieces together on her mood. “depends”

She smiled at me and nodded. I unfold my arms in disbelief. “really?” I smiled as Derek looked between us confused.

She nodded and hugged me. “Wait what are you two up to?” Derek asked. Bailey smiled and told us to come to the Attendings' room.

Once we we're alone a spilled the good news. “I'm pregnant” Derek didn't skip a beat and immediately wrapped his arms around me as nothing but pure happiness plastered on his face.

“I'm so happy” he said burying his face in my neck as happy tears pricked his eyes.

“congrats mama Shepherd” Bailey smiled as I left Derek's arms and hugged her tight. “your the God mother ya known” she smiled proudly and nodded.

“I'm so happy for you guys” she said hugging Derek.

“me too” I said smiling at Derek.

[nariism]

my brother's best friend

pair. miya osamu x gn!reader

content: fluff, attempts at humour, miya atsumu is a little shit, first loves, mutual pining

synopsis. miya osamu takes pride in the fact that he’s the smarter of the twins. he, in fact, is not (especially when it comes to you).

wc. 3.1k

a/n: om nom nom nom nom brother's best friend trope nom nom nom... ok i have to come clean about this fic i literally wrote the first draft for this in 2021 on WATTPAD and it's been sitting dormant forever up until recently. enjoy 🫶

‎oh my god, how did i end up here?

it’s the only thought repeating over and over again in osamu’s head as he sits there staring at you. you’re too preoccupied with the menu in your hands to notice his unwavering gaze, scanning through it and muttering to yourself indecisively about what to order.

of course, the question of how he ended up here on a date with you could be summarized in one simple sentence:

miya atsumu is the world’s biggest idiot.

if kita or aran were here they would surely be poking fun at him right now, lecturing him about how his dna is a perfect carbon copy of atsumu’s. and while they would be right, osamu is convinced his brother has at least 70% less brain cell capacity.

the thought makes him feel a little smug. (he’s in the class under atsumu.)

you were friends. at least as far as how often you saw each other, he considered you good friends. maybe. not that he knew all that much about you other than the fact that you were constantly... around. if he didn’t know that atsumu was the biggest knucklehead on planet earth, he would have assumed you were dating. but he knew his brother was too invested in volleyball to be seeing anyone seriously, and you didn’t didn’t seem like the type to mess around with guys like him anyways.

you were way too level-headed for that despite the raunchy, head-turning jokes you liked to tell, which honestly might be the reason why atsumu keeps you around.

whenever you came to their house, you would stick to lounging in atsumu’s room or the living room. you typically avoided disturbing osamu and the rest of their family — not like they minded having you around. no, in fact, their mother had a strange soft spot for you. you were quiet and well mannered, until it was just the three of you and suddenly an onslaught of fierce attacks on poor atsumu would commence.

for the majority of your friendship, you have stayed out of his way and he stays out of yours. you only talk to each other when deemed necessary, like when walking home from school or when you shyly greet him at the door because atsumu is on the toilet. he does, however, rejoice in the fact that there is another person on the atsumu hate train, and appreciates that you’re at least colourful with your insults. it’s impressive, really.

(he would never admit it. never. never ever. but it warms his heart a little that there’s someone out there just like him, expressing their love for miya atsumu in less conventional ways.)

you were quick witted and funny. a free source of entertainment when he would grow bored of his brother’s shenanigans. and it was a two way street, because when you needed a break from atsumu, osamu was always right there. 

you were noticeably gentler with the younger of the miya twins: asking him how school was, and if he needed help with his chemistry homework, and what he had for lunch. menial little things, but sometimes he found himself thinking that it was the highlight of his day.

otherwise, your presence in his life is, as osamu considers it, indifferent.

sure, he likes to look at you. and sometimes, maybe, he wishes you and atsumu would invite him around more often. it also doesn’t help his heart when you’re so nice to him, like when you’re all having dinner together and you pretend you don’t want the last dumpling on your plate and shovel it onto his. he likes that. or when you invite yourself into their freezer for ice cream, you always make sure to grab an extra one for him. there have been multiple occasions in which you’ve wordlessly slid him your notes to copy, too.

you were good at that; knowing what others wanted and being more selfless than the average person. you’re a people pleaser, and though he and atsumu used to make fun of your type when they were kids, your charm is undeniable.

unfortunately, actually making any sort of move on you is out of the question. not only would it potentially complicate things between you and him, it would also risk putting a strain on your friendship with atsumu. making his brother’s life a living hell is what miya osamu was born into this world to do, but for some reason his stomach turns at the thought of ruining your friendship.

you were just atsumu’s cute best friend. nothing less, nothing more. and he would very much like to beat the “i fell in love with my brother’s best friend” allegations, thank you.

he realizes he’s still looking at you intently with his arms crossed over his chest. he watches as your nose scrunches a little in thought, trying to decide between their two best sellers. he sighs in relief when you get up to order for yourself, tucking a stray hair under his cap before going back to sulking with his thoughts.

atsumu had a lot of bad ideas. so many that if they sat down and listed them all out they might be there for a couple days. but this? this is his worst one yet. and how osamu managed to get roped (bribed) into this, he will never know. but here he is, and here you are, and here atsumu is not.

he really should get better at saying no to atsumu.

(“c’mon, ‘samu! please? for me?!”

“what the hell? no. that’s a shitty thing to do. just tell them ya can’t go.”

“but it’s their birthday! they were lookin’ forward to this. they’ll hate me forever if i bailed!”

“and? why would i help you? ‘specially with somethin’ so stupid. it’s your fault you didn’t plan better.”

“don’t be like that, y’know it was a last minute thing!”

a beat of silence.

“pretty please? it’s their birthday… you guys are friends too, right?”

osamu can’t believe he’s entertaining this stupid idea for even a second. you’re not an idiot. you’d know it’s him with a single glance.

“this is an all time low, even for you. they’ll notice it’s me right away. are ya crazy, ‘tsumu? hit your head or somethin’?”

“it’s just this one time! i’ll never ask ya for anythin’ ever again. never ever ever ever, i swear it.”

“...’tsumu…”

“don’t sound so tired with me! do this for your big brother. have i mentioned it’s their birthday?”

big brother? osamu scoffs loudly.

“you actually mentioned it three times. and yer only a couple minutes older than me. but... fine.”

“don’t be such a jacka- wait, what?”

“i said fine. but you owe me lunch for the next two weeks.”

“deal!”

“... are ya sure they won’t know it’s me? i mean, i really think you should reconsider-”

“oh shut up, ‘samu, we’re identical!”

“just know that i won’t hesitate to throw ya under the bus if shit hits the fan.”)

what a terrible plan. pretending to be atsumu was proving to be harder than he initially anticipated. he would have thought that spending every agonizing, waking, living hour with his brother would have trained him well enough, but atsumu is so no-chill that it’s somehow making this already horrible idea even worse with every passing second.

surprisingly, you haven’t said anything. you haven’t acknowledged the massive elephant in the room. this could only mean one of three things:

1. you’ve noticed, but you’re desperately trying to spare atsumu’s feelings and osamu’s embarrassment by not bringing it up.

2. you’re dumber than he thought. dumber than a rock, actually, if you didn’t take one look at osamu and know it was him.

3. you are a cruel, wicked, evil, deranged human being who finds osamu’s situation entirely hilarious and wants this to go on for as long as possible.

judging by your casual banter, he’s willing to bet it’s either option one or two. you’re twirling a lanyard around your finger when you finally return with your drink of choice in tow. next destination: the local aquarium. atsumu put a surprising amount of effort into planning the day.

it’s a shame he hadn’t accounted for planning himself into it.

‎he shouldn’t have agreed to come here.

spending time alone with you like this was bound to stir up feelings he’d long ago buried in the hollows of his heart. of the miya twins, osamu was always better at keeping his emotions under wraps. there were rare occasions in which he lost his cool, in which he was actually somehow worse than atsumu, but in general he was as level-headed as you were.

you’re ruining him and his plans to never acknowledge his feelings for you.

it’s unfair, really, how his heart seemingly gets lodged in his throat when you cling to his arm so tightly, laughing and pointing out all the funny-looking fish. and when you point at something called a vampire squid, raving about how long it took you to find one in animal crossing, he nearly crumbles to his knees and puts his head in his hands.

(in other words, he’s totally whipped. he’s not beating those allegations.)

osamu thought he could get used to looking at anyone’s face. he always found people boring — he grew up being the other half of his brother, after all. the miya twins are many things, but boring is not one of them, and to entertain them you have to be someone with a special brand of humour.

but now, as he looks at you with the soft blue glow from the tank shining against your face, he can’t help the thought that crosses his mind:

i could never get tired of this.

“... hailing from the depths of tropical and subtropical waters, the vampire squid feeds on marine snow.”

he blinks back into reality, eyes drifting from you to the sea creature you’re admiring, then back to you. “marine snow? sounds gross.”

“it’s the debris that falls to the lower levels of the ocean. lots of deep sea creatures feed that way since it saves them the energy of needing to go hunt.”

osamu seems skeptical. “they really just eat anythin’ like that?”

your head turns to look at him. there’s a little smile playing on your face, like you seem amused by what he just said. “sounds like someone i know.”

he makes a strange expression in response. were you talking about him? did you often bring him up when you were alone with atsumu? the soft and fond look in your eyes doesn’t help his racing heart. the idea that you and atsumu talk about him in private so sweetly makes his face burn slightly in embarrassment.

he shakes his head to get the thought out of his brain before stuffing his hands into his pockets.

your arm finds his again, locking together. it’s an oddly intimate action, even if you think he really is atsumu. he doesn’t know you to be the most touchy person on earth, though he supposes he can’t see what you’re like behind the closed doors of his brother’s bedroom. his blood boils for some reason.

you stop at the next tank, the one situated in the centre of the room filled high with kelp and schools of tiny fish. you’re looking at them with wide eyes, light shimmering in them. he could cry right now. you look like an angel bathed in the shadows of dancing fish as your gaze carefully follows a school circling around the top of the aquarium.

there’s a feeling swimming inside of him, unfamiliar and oh so dreadful. he can feel it in raging in every part of him — in his heart, in the fiery pits of his stomach, in his throat — and he knows exactly which word comes to mind.

miya osamu may be in the lowest class in his year, and he might share a single brain cell with his brother, but he’s read enough books to describe this feeling. he’s listened to enough love songs to know this ache in him.

if you asked him ten years from now, he’d tell you exactly the same thing as he would right now; that your first love is always petrifying.

“pretty, aren’t they?”

“yeah. real pretty.”

but he hasn’t looked at them even once. how could he when there’s a living, breathing angel standing next to him?

‎osamu delivers you to your doorstep that night.

it feels like a dream, the whole day and having the privilege of holding your hand and feeling your body against his.

maybe it was just the greedy monster in him speaking. the laws of the universe dictate that if it’s you and osamu, atsumu needs to be there, too. the miya twins have always come in a package. a duo. there is no just atsumu or just osamu, at least there wasn’t until you came along.

suddenly it was you and atsumu. it was atsumu and osamu, and you. but there was never just you and osamu. it didn’t work that way.

well, screw the universe and its laws. osamu never believed in that astrology shit anyways.

he’s fully prepared to keep this day an untarnished memory — something to cherish when life goes back to normal and he’s unable to stand shoulder to shoulder like this with you again.

when you lean in to kiss him, there is only one thought repeating in his mind like a mantra:

it’s just once. just one day. one last perfect memory.

you’re so close that he can feel your breath filling his lungs. his heart hammers where it rests in his chest, so loud that he can hear it thundering in his ears. it’s then that he realizes this is wrong. all of it is wrong.

he recoils back with lightning speed, and his heart aches at the sight of your disappointed and puzzled expression. but it’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to atsumu either.

he cares about both of you too much to be selfish right now.

how could he possibly risk hurting two of the people he cared most about in the world? he couldn’t be that self-centred, to be able to steal a kiss from you just to keep his memories of this day perfect.

perfect doesn’t exist if none of it is real.

“i’m not… i’m not who you think i am.”

he slides the hat off his head with shame burning in his cheeks, avoiding your eyes like a child who got caught with his hand in a cookie jar. it was time for him to be honest, both with you and himself.

“look, yer really cool. and i– crap, it’s complicated, ‘kay? i might like you. like– like you, like you. i wasn’t thinkin’ straight. 'm really sorry, i know it was wrong to string you along, i was just havin’ so much fun today that–”

his mouth suddenly comes to a halt as you reach forward and capture his cheeks between your fingers, squishing them together so he’ll stop rambling.

you look at him with a confused but amused smile. “um, ‘samu? i like you, too.”

“what?” he sputters out as much as he can with his face still held in place. his brows furrow, but all rational thoughts have stopped flowing in his mind. he’s staring at you like a flabbergasted idiot, so you continue.

“why else would i agree to go on a date with you on my birthday?”

“but– i– huh?”

your head tilts. “this was a date, wasn’t it?”

it dawns on him then. it had never occurred to osamu that there was another explanation for your strange lack of acknowledgment that he is painfully easy to see through:

4. you like him and simply thought this was a date. you like him as much as he likes you, which is a stupid amount. after all, he likes you enough to go through with an infinite number of atsumu’s terrible ideas just to make you happy.

of course you weren’t that dense. of course he was found out the second you laid eyes on him. of course he had misread the entire situation because he was blinded by his brother’s boisterous claims that they were indistinguishable.

“this is ridiculous. i can’t believe you–… atsumu somehow always pulls through even when he doesn’t mean to.”

“what do you mean?”

“whadd’ya mean, what do i mean?”

“about atsumu?”

“oh, he was freakin’ out about missin’ today and wanted me to go through this whole thing pretendin' i’m him so ya wouldn’t be mad at him.”

“but he already told me he couldn’t make it today? you really didn’t have to do… all this,” you gesture to his whole body with a flick of your wrist.

at your words osamu finally crumbles to his knees in pure agony. he looks up to the sky, to whatever god has forsaken him by making atsumu his other half, and sighs with the weight of the world on his shoulders. he can just imagine the shit-eating grin his brother has right now.

“i’m…” he pauses, carefully selecting his next words, “going to smother him with a pillow.”

you blink at him for a moment before all the pieces fall into place.

all the times you’d gushed to atsumu about your massive crush on his twin and the way he’d complain to no end about neither of you making a move, forcing him to watch on with mild disgust as his best friend and brother made goo goo eyes at each other. all the times he would “forget” his shoes at the gym and need to run back to grab them, pushing you into small talk with osamu. all the times he would suffer through your teasing just to see the two of you walking side-by-side sharing proud little smiles.

atsumu’s resume looks something like this: world’s biggest idiot, volleyball player, third-wheel, and tired wingman.

you’ll have to thank him later.

“no wonder you’ve been acting so weird all day! i thought you were just one of those guys who gets nervous on first dates!” accompanied by this statement is a laugh that makes osamu weak.

he grumbles. “what’s so funny?”

“say what you want, but you’re as dumb as ‘tsumu.”

“no… please… don’t compare me to that nitwit… i might have a heart attack at this rate.”

you snicker quietly as you help osamu back onto his feet, eyes shimmering with joy as you let his confession sink in.

“you’re right, he is an idiot.”

“dumbass.”

“moron.”

“he’s gonna hate us even more from now on,” osamu smiles uncontrollably, inching closer to you again.

“yeah?” your lips brush against his daringly, “i can live with that.”

EXTRA:

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

🏷️ @hyomagiri (im dead like actually dead)

[hugshughes]

Patience is a Virtue C. Loveland

Colston Loveland x fem!Minter!reader

synopsis - Colston gets the trophy, and finally gets the girl.

wc - 3.8k

contains - UNEDITED! this is based off of this request! READER IS COACH MINTER(michigan defensive coordinator)'S DAUGHTER!!!!!!! kissing, hugging, fluff, cursing, stress over the game. guys if u don't like my cute outfit i picked then #1 ur a hater and #2 it's not a big deal! think of something else🤞🤞🤞 cause my Adidas navy handballs with gold accents ARE STAYING. there IS a picture of the outfit im describing but im obvi not gonna stick it in the middle of the fic so if anyone wants that i guess request or message me lols?

an - GUYS PLEASE LET THIS POST LETS PRAY TOGETHER. THIS WAS CUTE. i've been getting the BEST requests lately. i'm on my Michigan FOOTBALL grind. ive spent a long while introducing the jesse minter daughter reader.... she might have to stick around. i want to write for Blake Corum but don't know what to do because literally all i have written for the past week is like "girlfriend or friend of player reader comes to watch their playoff game, reader and love interest kiss after love interest wins game" so... DONT GET ME WRONG I LOVEEEE WRITING THAT SHIT. but it feels so repetitive. BUT THIS? I LOVED THIS. daughter of the coach is so scandalous and i love it. minter is only 40 so like we're just saying he had his daughter (reader) pretty young, like 21. hope u enjoyyyyyyyy ;)!

-

You woke up with a start. Your body jolted as you brain registered a shout somewhere in the room. You sucked in a breath, opening your eyes, only to close them again. You squinted, trying to orient yourself. You were in a hotel room, your brothers were the ones shouting.

You groaned at the realization, then let out a shout when you felt three small bodies land on top of you.

"Holy shit, get off of me!"

They immediately scrambled, most likely going to tell your mom you cursed in their presence. You loved your 3 baby siblings, but they were pains in your ass sometimes.

You heard a faint "she said shit mommy!" in the conjoining hotel room, and rolled your eyes. You sat in bed, stretching, grabbing your phone before grabbing your bag and locking yourself in the bathroom before your mom could scold you so your siblings shut up about it.

Today was the college football playoff championship, and it was safe to say your family members above the age of 8 were stressed. It was 8:11, and you had to be out the door by 9:50. You showered, drying your hair after and then starting to pick your outfit. You brought a lot of different gear, you had not clue what you wanted to wear to the game. You had so much Michigan gear, and even more maize and navy colored clothing, courtesy to your father.

After almost 30 minutes, you decided on a cute denim skirt, a maize long sleeve, and your navy Adidaas Handballs. You perfected your hair and makeup, successfully erasing any signs that you'd only been awake for about an hour.

You came out of the bathroom all put together, your bag and pajamas in hand. Your siblings were sitting on your bed, watching something on the TV. Since you guys had 6 people in your family, you'd gotten two hotel rooms with the connecting door in the middle. You slept in one room with your little sister on the other bed, and your parents and brothers slept in the other room. You walked through the connecting door, checking the time. 9:17.

Your mom was getting ready in the bathroom when you walked into it. You sat on the closed lid toilet and started talking to her about the plans for today.

"You really gotta stop cursing in front of the littles!"

Your mother scolded you, a grin wide on her face. She was joking, of course. You and your parents had always been close, you'd been their baby for the longest. You'd been with them since they were two just married 20 year olds in college. Not that you remembered it, but you were there for all of your dad's junior and senior year games when he played at MSJ. You'd been there through all the coaching jobs. From Cincinnati, to Georgia State, to the Baltimore Ravens, you'd been there through all of it.

You sat with your mom until it was time to go. Your dad corralled everyone together, taking a photo before you all headed to the elevator. When an elevator came, it opened up and there was barely any room unless your parents held two of your siblings, so you told them to go ahead and that you would wait for the next one.

You only waited about a minute before the doors slid open again, revealing none other than Colston Loveland. His eyes lit up, a grin shining on his beautiful face. You'd always had a weird little thing with Colston. No words were ever said about it, but there had always been a vibe between you.

Being the daughter of the defensive coordinator definitely drove a lot of the guys, even ones you had classes and other school related things with, far far away. The boys knew how protective their coach was of his family, and didn't want any bad blood on the team. Something about you just attracted Colston so heavily. He knew he shouldn't even think about it, but he never could help himself.

"Hey coach."

You rolled your eyes at him playfully as you stepped into the elevator. He always called you coach, he had to remind you he was one of your dad's players. You would've loved to forget that for two seconds.

"Hi Cole."

He could've died. You'd called him Cole, instead of Colston. It was the smallest, most insignificant little thing, but it made him melt.

"Where's your family at?"

You tilted your head towards him, he wanted to talk, okay. You smiled at him, he loved it.

"The other elevator was too full, some of the guys were on the way down too."

He nodded, the smirk never leaving his face. You thought about kissing it off of him, then realized you had just thought of kissing his smirk off of him. Shit. You were in deep with this kid, and there was little to no chance anything would ever happen.

The elevator reached the lobby, and Colston gestured for you to step out first. You exited the elevator, the boy hot on your tail. You were immediately greeted by a hallway packed full of Michigan players, coaches, families, and more.

You have Colston one last glance and smile before finding your mom, taking your baby brother out of her arms and into yours, playing with him. Colston's eyes followed you, he admired you as you smiled and laughed with your brother. You were perfect. He was gonna have to find a way to get around the fact that you were his coach's daughter.

You held your brother with one arm and your sisters hand with the other as you smiled at the cameras, walking through to the buses. Your family followed behind the rest of the coaches and families, the team trailing behind you.

The ride to NRG took longer than you assumed it would, almost an hour because of the traffic, and it didn't help that everyone could tell that the buses were transporting one of the CFP Championship teams in them.

Everyone went into the stadium together, through some backstage type area. You walked with the team until you had to go separate ways. You hugged your dad, squeezing him tight. You would see him again before the game, so you saved your 'Good luck, I love you Dad.' sentiment for then.

You'd always had a special connection with your dad, you were closer to him than almost anyone else. You were his baby, his first baby. Still, you were his baby in his eyes. Your dad would do anything for you, and he was quite protective. Though he was protective, all he wanted was for you to be happy, and if it meant dating one of his guys, he would have no problem with it.

Your family sat bored in the box of the stadium, looking down on the field as Washington practiced. There was over 6 more hours till the game started, and there was practically nothing to do.

You took a nap on the carpeted floor of the box with your siblings for a couple hours, your mother snapping photos that although you were embarrassed of, were undeniably cute. Once you guys had woken up, there was about 2 hours till game time. You voted with your family on whether you guys wanted to stay in the box, or sit way close to the field. You all wanted to be closer to the field, you wanted to see the action head on.

Your family departed the box, along with a few others to see the team one more time before the game. You got down onto the field in about 20 minutes, and stood with your dad for awhile. When you were being told it was time to go, you quickly hugged your dad.

"Good luck, I love you!"

He thanked you, saying the three words back as you guys waved at him, going to leave. Your eyes caught on a certain brunette as he ran off the field, his eyes finding you quickly. He smiled at you, ugh, that smile.

"Good luck, Cole!"

You smiled at him, right before you turned to go up the tunnel. More and more fans started to pour in as you got settled into your bleacher seats. You were three rows from the bottom with a perfect view of the field. You settled in as the national anthem ended and the game began.

As the game progressed, you were so happy to say that Michigan was winning, the entire time. You'd caught Colston's eyes multiple times during the game, letting it linger for a few seconds before giving him a stern look and gesturing towards the field. He'd mouth back, 'okay, coach.' and turn back around. Your mother caught the interaction once, her heart warming seeing her baby with a crush.

You stood up, your brother in your arms as you jumped up and down, shouting, Michigan had finally won! You cheered and danced around with your little siblings as you celebrated. You were all so insanely proud of your dad. Soon though, you were being escorted to the field, eager to see your father and congratulate him.

Blood was pumping and hearts were racing as you exited the tunnel, smiles burned onto your faces as you went to look for your dad. You held your sister's hand as you two ran around, trying to find him. Your mom shouted, and you turned to look at her. She pointed to your left, and there stood your dad, hugging one of his players. Your sister went back to your mom, to walk over to your dad with her as you all but sprinted over to your dad, weaving in between sweaty boys and families.

Your dad saw you incoming and held his arms out accepting your forceful hug. You both laughed, your dad squeezing you tightly. Your best friend had finally done it.

"Literally told you you would do it."

He laughed again, agreeing as he laid a kiss to your temple, pulling back with one arm to accept your other siblings into the hug, who'd finally made their way over. After a minute, you took your siblings from your dad so your mom could hug him, and kiss him, much to your brothers' disgust.

After talking with your dad for a little, you spotted a familiar 6'5 frame standing by himself as his teammates walked away from him. You sauntered over, shouting his name when you were in earshot. The brunette quickly turned around, the smile already gracing his face deepening.

"Well hi, coach."

"Congratulations, Cole. You know your catches were pretty legit."

You gave him a slightly impressed face, shrugging your shoulders. He laughed, rolling his eyes playfully.

"You can't win 'em all over, can you?"

You laughed in turn, stepping closer to him. Colston's heart was racing as he looked down into your eyes.

"But really, Cole, you were incredible, serious."

He nodded, accepting your praise with a grin, before he looked around, over-exaggerating a look of being in thought.

"You know, coach, I think I might just deserve a reward, for my quote incredible performance."

Your eyes widened, your heart starting off, faster and faster.

"Really? What might that entail, Cole?"

Shit, he was gonna have to kiss you if you kept calling him that. He was about to take the leap. He knew he had to at some point, and he was on an adrenaline rush, that just chanted at him to do it.

"Well I think it entails you accepting a date with me back in Michigan."

Your jaw dropped slightly, you were dumbfounded. Colston really wanted to go on a date with you?

"For real?"

Colston nodded, seemingly confident, though he was shaking in his boots on the inside.

"Well then, I think we can make that work."

Colston's heart erupted. He literally could not have been happier. He'd just won the Natty, and got his dream girl to agree to a date, holy fuck. You got nervous all of the sudden, leaning up to kiss his cheek, before turning to leave.

"Just text me, Cole!"

He nodded, his eyes following you as you went to go find your family again. His family came back over to him, they'd been gone for just a second but stopped and waited when they saw him talking to you. His family, especially his mom, knew quite a bit about you.

You found your family, immediately grabbing your moms hand to pull her a few steps away. You looked at her with the biggest eyes ever, still in shock over what had just happened.

"What's up, sweetheart? Why are you all, thousand yard stare-y?"

"Mom Colston just asked me out, and I said yes! And then I kissed his cheek! And then I left!"

Your mom laughed, her baby was finally growing up. You'd had a few boyfriends in all your days, but you'd never been proper crushing like you were right now.

"That's so good! I knew this was coming, we just had to wait for one of you to get the courage."

You blushed, hiding your face in your hands. Your smile suddenly dropped, a realization coming to you.

"Is dad gonna hate me?"

"Why would I hate you?"

Shit.

You ended up telling your dad later on in the night, when you were tired and sitting in the back of a restaurant the team was celebrating in. Your family didn't party for too long, having a 4, 7, and 8 year old didn't exactly allow you guys to stay out for too long. Even your parents 19 year old daughter got a bit cranky if she stayed out too late.

When you told your dad, he just laughed. He knew you and Colston had things for each other, he was waiting for the tight end to make a move.

-

You were stressing. Tonight was your date with Colston. You sat at your vanity, ranting to your roommate over it. You put on makeup and did your hair, wanting to look cute but not over the top.

Colston had told you to wear comfy clothes, so you were in one of your most common outfits. Leggings and a Michigan sweatshirt. You stared at yourself in the mirror, doubting yourself. You had known Colston for over a year, almost two, but you didn't really know him that well. You wanted him to like you so badly.

"Babe, you look fantastic. He's going to stare at you all night."

You sighed at your roommate's encouragement. But before you could respond, you got a text from Colston. He was outside your dorm building. Your roommate pushed you straight out the door, saying bye.

You went down the stairs quickly, making your way out of the complex. You saw Colston as you opened the door, slipping out. He looked up and smiled at you, his stupid beautiful smile.

"Hey, Gorgeous."

You felt the heat on your face even in the Ann Arbor cold. You smiled, shaking your head as you gave him a spin, showing off your extra casual outfit.

"Even in this ensemble?"

He nodded, his smile deepening. He pulled you into his side, hugging you. You were immediately enveloped in his warmth. You ducked your head down to hide the shock in your eyes. He smelled really good.

When you pulled away Colston led you to his car, opening the door for you before going around and getting in. You two buckled up before Colston pulled out of the parking spot, setting off into Ann Arbor. He gave you the aux, warming your heart. You both knew he probably didn't listen to the same music as you, but he wanted you to listen to whatever you liked.

Smaller Acts by Zach Bryan came on when you hit shuffle on your main playlist, making you smile. You resonated with the song, always having thought that smaller acts of love were more important than any grand gestures. You got to really look at Colston while he drove. He kept his eyes right on the road always, until you got to a red light, that's when you'd jerk your head back forward as he turned to look at you. He was really pretty, his jaw was so insanely defined, he had a strong neck, and the deepest brown eyes. You stared at the tattoo on his left forearm, he was hot, to put it simply.

You drove for around 40 minutes before the car slowed, pulling onto a gravel driveway. You looked out of your window, seeing a large screen and projector, and lots of cars. He had brought you to a drive in movie. You could've cried when you saw the sign reading the movie you would be seeing. Ocean's 11. The very first time you ever talked to Colston, he'd asked you your favorite movie. You said you couldn't pick one, then settled on Ocean's 11 because it was one you'd seen so many times you could quote any scene.

You couldn't believe he remembered. You'd never mentioned it since then. That was the kind of smaller, seemingly insignificant thing that meant the world to you. You jerked your head to the left, staring at Colston with wide eyes. He was dealing with the tickets for a few seconds before you pulled into a spot, then he finally looked to you.

"Cole, I cannot believe that you remembered."

Colston smiled, and on the inside he was celebrating that you loved it. What he hadn't expected though was you leaning over the console and hugging him. It was honestly the sweetest thing any guy had ever done for you, you were beyond grateful for this boy, and it was your first date.

"This is the sweetest thing a guy's ever done for me, I'm being serious."

Though you were mostly saying that about the fact that he'd remembered, the date itself was also amazing. Colston knew you enough to know that you'd have preferred this over any fancy restaurant, and that meant a lot.

"It's the least I could do, coach. You mean something to me, 'm gonna take care of you."

You just squirmed in your seat, getting more comfortable and smiling as you looked ahead of you. You wordlessly reached over and slipped your hand into his, pulling them into your lap.

Colston was so happy he could've gotten out of the car and started dancing. He acted as cool as he could on the outside. You two settled in as the movie began.

At some point, Colston had reached back into the backseat and grabbed a blanket that he tossed into your lap, and a bag of food and snacks.

You traced your free hand over Colston's tattoo, admiring the line work and shading. The movie ended, and Colston's hand stayed with you as you two began the drive back. You fell asleep on the drive, your head leaning against Colston's arm.

You woke up slowly about 5 minutes out from school. You kept your head on Colston's arm, but allowed yourself to carelessly stare at him in your tired state. At a stoplight, he turned to look at you, smiling deeply when his eyes met your sleepy ones.

"Hey, coach. Nap good?"

You smiled and nodded, yawning at him. He laughed lowly, turning his head back when the light went green. You parked outside your building, dampening your heart. The night had been perfect. You sleepily got out of Colston's car, after he told you to not dare opening your own door. He walked you up to the entrance with his hand on your back, rubbing his fingers back and forth lightly.

When you got to the door you stopped and turned around, wrapping your arms around his middle.

"Thank you so much Colston. This was like, the best date I think ever."

He smiled, hugging you tightly. Colston had the best time, obviously you were gorgeous, but getting to talk to you one-on-one without interruptions was his idea of a good time. His insides melted whenever you fell asleep, and before then, he could've swore he was in love while you traced over his tattoo.

You pulled away from him, looking at the boy through heavy eyes. He looked absolutely handsome in the dim lighting of a street lamp. You put your hands on his shoulders, leaning up and kissing him. You probably wouldn't have if your drowzy mind hadn't commanded you to. Obviously you wanted to, but you weren't sure if it was 100% mutual yet, but it was.

Colston's hands went to hold the back of your head, his hands in your hair. He kept the kiss shorter than you would've liked, knowing you were tired.

You looked up at him with stars in your eyes, a smiling fighting its way onto you face. Colston's hands shifted from your hair to your jaw, rubbing his thumb over your cheek.

"I'll see you tomorrow baby."

Your blown out eyes widened at the name, your heart clenching in your chest. Colston saw the reaction, his lips quirking up the slightest bit.

"I'll see you, Loveland."

You let go of him, turning towards the door. You paused for a second, quickly turning back around and kissing Colston again. Colston's hands grabbed at your hips, pulling you closer. Colston smiled brightly into the kiss, giggling to himself.

You pulled away from him, a grin falling to your face.

"You ever gonna let me leave, coach?"

"Thinkin' about it."

"You get inside, gorgeous. It's too cold for you to be out here."

You smiled, nodding at him, letting go of him for the last time.

"You gotta go too, off season just started. You gotta stay on your A-Game Loveland."

He laughed at you, shaking his head as he watched you walk into the dorm complex, turning the corner and out of his sight. You ran back up the stairs and to your room, squealing like a 13 year old as you described your date to your roommate.

Colston sat in his car, texting his mom that everything went well. When he put his phone away, he finally let himself think that you were the girl he'd want to be with forever. It was finally real. The boy just had to be patient.

[tuulikannel]

So so so... I'm sick, and for whatever reason my brain decided that this is a good time to start writing an amnesiac Asano fic. I've so many other fics in the works that I don't know if I'll ever continue this, which is why I decided to post it here before it gets buried and forgotten in the depths of my computer. Mainly I just had this one scene in my mind, and wanted to use this chance to have Shuu say something to his father.

But yeah. Here's a little untitled fic snippet for you, about 1000 words.

One cold December morning a boy woke up. He was lying on his back in a bed, and he remained there a good while, absolutely still, staring at the ceiling. Gradually, the frown on his face deepened.

Where… was he?

He sat up, looking at the room. A desk with schoolbooks on it, a bag on the floor, clothes set ready on a chair… were those his clothes? He touched them, hesitantly. There was something familiar about them, true…

Still confused, he decided to dress up. Whatever was going on, better not to face it in the pyjamas.

He gave the desk with the books one more glance and slipped quietly out of the room. The empty corridor behind the door was quiet and gloomy. He swallowed and started walking it down, instinctively stepping as quietly as he could. He took careful peeks into the rooms he passed, but there was nothing familiar in them, nothing to solve this mystery.

Ah, a toilet. That might be a good idea, no matter what was going on.

As he was washing his hands, his eyes fell on himself in the mirror, and he paused. Wait, was that what he looked like? Strawberry blond hair, violet eyes… He blinked, touching his cheek. Yeah. That was him.

Him…

He… who was he?

“My name is,” he started to say to his mirror image, but no name came to his tongue. “My name is,” he repeated more strongly, but to no avail. Nothing. His mind was empty.

His heartbeat sped up as he stared at himself, trying fervently to think. Who was he? Where did he come from? What did he do, what did he like?

He didn’t have a clue.

Also… what was this place he was in? His home? That would make sense, but… he pushed the toilet door open and shot a careful glance around.

This didn’t feel like home.

He didn’t know where he was, but he did know that he wanted to get out of there.

He came down the stairs, making his way slowly through the house, trying to spot a single detail that would seem familiar. Nothing. Step by step his nervousness rose, and he could feel his breath getting caught in his throat.

In the kitchen, there was a man sitting by a table, drinking coffee while reading something on his laptop. The boy paused at the doorway, wondering if he shouldn’t just go on, but the man had already noticed him. He gave the boy a curt glance.

“Sleeping late today, Asano-kun?” he said.

The boy blinked. “Asano… kun? Is that my name?”

The man lowered his coffee mug to the table, frowning at him.

“Is this some kind of a joke? Or are you implying you’re going to leave the family and pick a different name? Well, you’re free to do that once you’re an adult. For now, as long as you live in this house, you are still Asano Gakushuu.”

There was a long silence as the two stared at each other. The frown on the man’s face deepened as he looked into the boy’s eyes that reflected nothing but honest confusion.

“What are…?” he started to say, but the boy shook fervently his head.

“Are you serious? That’s my name? What the hell… why am I called ‘study’?”

“It’s written with the kanji for learning and excellence, you know,” the man started to explain, his tone hesitant, but the boy (Gakushuu? What the hell! He would not be called that) cut him off again.

“If that really is my name, I think I am gonna change it! It’s ridiculous!”

He was growing increasingly agitated. What was going on here? Was he caught in some strange nightmare? This house that made him so nervous, not to talk about this man… and that ridiculous name. This couldn’t be real.

“I’m dreaming,” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. “This got to be a dream…”

A chair scraped against the floor as the man stood up. “Are you truly trying to say you can’t remember anything? Gakushuu?” A hand touched his forehead and he instinctively drew back. Opening his eyes, he found himself staring straight into the man’s. That unblinking, piercing stare made him feel cold inside, and he took another step back.

“Or is this some plot of yours?” the man went on, but he couldn’t really pay attention to what he was saying. Being so close to this man… made him even more nervous than this house. “What are you planning to accomplish? Amnesia is a serious matter, not something to joke about!”

“Who the hell are you, anyway?” the boy spat out, ignoring everything he had said.

The man paused. As he stared at the boy in front of him, the sterness on his face gave way to hesitation. “I… I’m your father,” he said then.

“No.” The boy denied it firmly, unhesitatingly, without even pausing to think about it. “No, you… you can’t be.”

“But…” Now the man seemed to be at a loss. Something about that amused the boy, but even so, he couldn’t help being on his guard. This man was dangerous. He knew that much.

“But,” the man repeated and swallowed. “If you don’t remember, how could you know…?”

“It doesn’t feel right,” he said. “I just can’t… can’t believe that you…” He shook his head. “There’s no way that’d be true. You’re not my father. Can’t be. You’re someone… I...” detest, he was about to say, but his voice trailed off. Was it a good idea to antagonize this man?

The man stared at him long and hard, his face utterly unreadable. “Wait here,” he muttered then. “Wait. I… I need to make a phone call.” He left the kitchen, fishing out a phone from his pocket.

The boy waited a moment, tiptoed then out and peeking into the living room, saw him standing by the window, talking with someone on the phone. Good. This was his chance.

Moving as quietly as he could he headed to the front door, put on shoes (interesting that there were clearly several shoes that could be his), grasped a coat and slipped out.

Leaving the house behind he finally felt like he could breathe again.

(tbc??? who knows, if I get inspiration)

(eta: check the reblogs for Toufu's art! ^^)

[i-eat-worlds]

Wow Birthday Whump Day 11: Alt. Forced to Hurt a Loved One

this one is kind of a stretch but I couldn’t get my brain to work for the most of the alts or the originals so I hope you enjoy more medwhump.

Content: temporary character death, resuscitation, angst, medical whump, caffeine od ment.

Sil paused on stairs, taking a moment to catch his breath. His head was still throbbing from where he’d hit the ground after Electraz had hit him with an electrical blast.

It’d been stupid, really, leaving cover like he had to get to the car a couple seconds sooner. It was an unnecessary risk, and he’d paid for it.

At least the drive back had been short, just a couple miles to the hotel. Of course, when they’d arrived, the elevator had been out of service, and so he’d had to take the stairs. Not that he minded the stairs, but the blast must’ve taken a lot out of him. It was only another flight. He could make it.

Pressing a hand against his chest, he continued up the stairs. It felt like that one time he’d downed twelve espressos consecutively on a dare, all weird and fluttery. Afterwards, his hands had been shaking so much that he hadn’t been able to hold a pencil still. Between the dressing down he’d gotten from the medical officer and the time he’d spent camped out on the toilet, he’d learned his lesson.

Below him, he heard the sound of the door closing as Joseph entered the stairwell. He groaned internally at that, trying to pick up the pace. The lecture was coming, he was well aware of that, but it’d be great if he’d gotten to lay down first and rest a little bit before then.

He fumbled with the door key, clumsily sliding the card into the door several times until it finally beeped. His room was pretty cramped, but he found himself not minding, since it made the bed that much closer. The pain in his chest was building, and Sil found himself easily falling into the mattress.

His clothes were definitely still dirty, and between the mission and the walk of stairs, he was soaked in sweat, but it didn't matter. There was a feeling of doom building his chest, disturbing enough that he considered yelling out for Joseph. As much as he hated his protective, mother bear attitude and cross looks, he would come, and he would help. He needed help, he should…

Darkness came before he could get any further than that.

***

Joseph huffed as he entered the stairwell, letting the door slam shut behind him. The mission had gone on far longer than it should’ve, and now he had to drag his tired ass up the stairs because the elevator was down. To make things worse, the newbie had left his gear in a disgusting pile, meaning Joseph had to go up to his room and tell him to tidy his shit up. It was as if the universe was playing some cruel joke to delay his return to bed for as long as possible.

He was halfway up the stairs when he realized that the odd weight on his left thigh were his shears. For a brief second, he contemplated just keeping them on him, but he wasn’t that stupid. If he didn’t put them away, he’d never see them again. Grumbling, he continued up the stairs, electing to go get Sil and then go back down to the garage. That way, he’d be able to make sure that Sil put his stuff away properly.

Quietly, he padded down the hall, careful not to wake any of the other guests. The carpet was a bland, vaguely green beige color that Joseph thought looked like vomit. Excellent design choice. He knocked on the door, waited a second to let Sil scramble around and get decent, and then entered.

The first thing that he noticed was that the lights were off. Had Sil already gone to bed?

“Wakey, wakey,” he called, flipping the lights on as he walked towards the bed.

Sil was splayed out on the covers, head tilted to the side, feet hanging off the bed. “Sil?” He tried again, tone more urgent. There was no response.

“Sil, you with me?” He said again, one hand digging for his phone while the other squeezed his shoulder tightly. “Sil!”

Nothing.

Automatically, his thumb tapped out INSUPA’s emergency number. His eyes flickered to Sil’s chest while he slid two fingers under his jaw.

No pulse. Not breathing.

Fuck.

The phone rang on speaker while he scooped Sil up and laid him down on the oor. At least Sil had the decency to be small.

“INSUPA Emergency Line. Please state your identication code,” a robotic voice chirped.

“One-four-eight. Bravo-Zulu. Codename: Exhale,” he yelled at the phone while he cut off Sil’s shirt, shears quickly tearing through the fabric. There was a thin, red, angry mark across his upper chest, a telltale power entry burn. Great.

Not wasting any more time, he interlocked his fingers and started pressing hard and fast in the center of his chest, counting to thirty. “Record your message after the beep,” the voice prompted.

“Exhale speaking, room 318, Holiday Inn. Racer is down, suspected powered impact,” he rattled off, doing his best to keep count. The moment he was done speaking, he moved up to Sil’s head.

“Message sent,” the voice said while Joseph pinched Sil’s nose shut, tilted his head back and forced air into his lungs. Two breaths later, he switched back to compressions, willing a teammate to walk through the door already. “State additional queries.”

“EMS to current location,” he said, trying to keep his voice at a semi-reasonable volume.

“Request sent: EMS to 247 Merchant’s Lane, room 318,” the voice echoed. He switched back to breaths, ignoring the dread that flared in his chest at the blue tinge of Sil’s lips and the far-gone look in his eyes.

Like before, he went back over to compressions. He could feel Sil’s ribs breaking under the pressure, but he kept going. Two more cycles passed before, finally, the sound of the door flew open, footsteps storming into the room. It was Eric, followed by Avia. He stopped dead in his tracks, taking in the scene for a moment before jumping into action.

“Help’s on the way?” Eric asked, and Josephed nodded. “Avia, AED.”

“Where-”

Joseph cut her off mid sentence. “Elevator lobby, by the ice machine.” “On it!” They bolted out the door.

Eric dropped to his knees across from Joseph, Sil’s lifeless body between them.

“Switch.” Joseph called, queuing Eric. There were several seconds of quiet while he leaned over and exhaled into Sil’s mouth, watching his chest rise. Eric took over, leaning over his chest and taking over from Joseph. “I was four cycles in. Been about two minutes. Didn’t see him go down. EMS is en route.”

Eric’s brow creased, but before he could respond, Avia returned, Teri and Aarav hot on her heels. They both stepped to the side to let her through, Aarav’s jaw dropping open in shock.

She quickly powered it on, handed the included mask to Joseph, and started sticking the pads to Sil’s chest. Eric kept working compressing while they nimbly worked around to get the pads on, then connected them to the machine.

“Analyzing rhythm, do not touch the victim,” it said, in a voice that somehow sounded far kinder than INSUPA’s answering machine. The word “clear” echoed around the room as the three of them lifted their hands up. A beat passed while the machine worked. “Shock advised. Charging.”

Eric fit several more compressions in while it charged. “Press flashing button to deliver shock. Do not touch the victim.”

“Clear,” everyone said again, pulling their hands back and away. As soon as Avia was sure everyone was out of the way, they pushed the button. Sil’s body jerked as the current passed through him.

“Resume compressions,” it instructed.

Joseph watched Eric’s hands carefully, making sure they were deep enough, ignoring the sinking feeling in his gut. He should’ve caught this. He should’ve noticed that Sil had been hit, noticed that he wasn’t feeling well, and asked him about it. It was inexcusable.

They switched out again, Eric scooting down by Sil’s head after Joseph had taken over. He could feel Sil’s ribs under his hands, broken from his actions. Even though he knew it was necessary, it didn’t feel good. Five more sets, another shock, and another switch later, a knock came at the door. “EMS! Did somebody call for a person who collapsed?”

Teri opened it as fast as she could, letting the medics inside. There was a fourry of motion, Joseph explaining what had happened and what he’d done in response while they attached him to their debrillator and took over compressions. The energy in the room was tense, Eric and Avia backing away to give them room to work.

Joseph’s brow furrowed, unhappy with the sudden resistance he felt while bagging Sil. He tugged on his jaw, trying to position it better, when he saw Sil’s eyelids briey open and then fall closed. “I saw an eye utter, rhythm check.”

The medic paused compressions, and they all looked towards the monitor. His Ps, Qs, Rs, Ss, and Ts were all in order, a beautiful sinus rhythm. The other medic reached for his neck. “I’ve got a pulse,” they announced. That made Joseph briefly hopeful, and he quickly beat it away with a stick. He was too well acquainted with Murphy’s Law for that. His eyes flicked to Sil’s chest to check.

Please be breathing. Please be breathing.

It rose and fell under its power. Far too slowly, but it moved. Sil was alive.

Barely.

But Sil was alive.

Taglist: @pigeonwhumps@rainydaywhump@painful-pooch@rainbowsandwhumperflies@snaillamp @whumperofworlds

[ace7librarian]

A little late for Holocaust memorial day, but I think I want to share my family story here. It's pretty long, but I'll appreciate it if my goy mutuals could give it a look. Maybe it will help some goyim understand how ingrained the trauma is in the Jewish brain.

Little backstory about my family: I was born from a sperm donation, so my family has only one side- my mother's. If I had two parents, it would be double the amount of grandparents. Now I have just my grandpa and grandma, my mother's parents, and both of their parents are holocaust survivors. Just a heads up: I might be wrong about some stuff.

I'll start with my grandpa, because his parents didn't talk much about the Holocaust, since they were too traumatised. They were called Israel and Lea. Israel was born in Poland, and all we know about his history is that he had about seven sisters who were all murdered. Only he and two of his siblings survived. He blamed himself for the death of his family, and according to my mother, the only reason he didn't commit suicide was his religion. Lea was born in Germany, probably in Berlin, to a rich family. Her father was a very respected rabbi. when the war started, her brother Izzy escaped with all their money, leaving lea to watch her siblings get murdered. Lea, her father and her fiance (?) Were held in a concentration camp in Siberia (?), where lea left her fiance, who didn't want to take care of her father. Lea and Israel met there, and Israel did try to help Lea's father, but he still died, because he was a rabbi wbd that's the Holocaust. Israel and Lea survived and got married for comfort reasons, and decided to move to Israel, because Lea's brother izzy was there. Izzy did not give his sister any money or help, but she stayed close to him, because he was all the family she had. They managed to make a living, but they were never happy. Not even with their family. they didn't even have the strength to pretend, for their kids. They were kind and loving, but they were both shells of themselves.

My grandma's parents had it rough as well, of course, but they expressed it differently. Maybe it's because they were younger while it happened, maybe it's just a personality difference. Their names were Yehuda and Sarah, abd they talked a lot about their experiences. They had a small book made for the family with their stories, and Sarah was regularly going to schools and other events to teach about the Holocaust. Yehuda was born in Hungary, and since he was 3 he carried weapons to protect himself against antisemites in the streets. He was very lucky - only his father was burned alive, his mother and sister survived in a ghetto the whole holocaust, and he snuck into a train and escaped. It did leave him fairly traumatised. My grandma jokes that her father escaped, so he was afraid of everything ever since (got my anxiety from him), and her mother didn't, so she was afraid of nothing. Sarah was born in Slovakia, and I know about her the most, since she passed away just a few years ago. Her father didn't have Hungarian citizenship, so he was taken by the Nazis first. So when Jews who escaped Poland came to hide in their house, Sarah's mother believed the horrors they told about, since she hasn't heard from her husband in months. Eventually, the nazis found them as well. Sarah was pushed to the group of the older kids by her mother, who was murdered later that day in the gas chambers with the two youngest siblings, who were 12 and 7. Sarah and her 3 siblings who survived were moved from camp to camp. They have many stories about those horrible years- from having women they knew from town as their prison guards, to getting a comfortable position as the toilet cleaner, to Sarah's brother showing his ass to a nazi and getting out alive, and getting experimented on by Mengele. Eventually they were freed by the British, but Sarah's sister Golda got terminally ill at a death march and died just after being free at last, at age 19. The three surviving siblings moved to Israel (not before getting arrested and spending some time in a camp in Cyprus), where Sarah and Yehuda met. After the war, Yehuda's mother remarried, which gave him a step sibling. His step brother married and had a child, but he gave his daughter Maya to Yehuda, since his wife was sick. I only recently learned that the sickness was trauma and depression, and Maya's mother killed herself when maya was just a child. Now Sarah and Yehuda had two children, my grandma and Maya. Despite everything, they were very positive and determined to make the most out of life, for their family and friends who couldn't.

I remember grandma Sarah always says, that her biggest revenge on the Nazis was surviving and making a family. I miss her. She was an excellent cook. She never threw away a scrap- in the Holocaust she and her siblings survived on a single loaf of bread, so who is going to dare wasting food? I used to love tracing the number tattooed on her arm with my finger when I was a child. I don't remember a time not knowing how it got there. I don't remember a time not knowing my grandparents didn't have grandparents. I do remember my first time seeing a picture of Hitler though- it was in class. I heard so much about this monster, I felt pretty disappointed seeing him. Like he should have horns or something.

The Holocaust is not just a historical event for me. It's in every recipe my mother learned from Sarah, in every joke my uncle learned from Sarah's brother, in the necklace my grandma got from Lea, every time Maya visits. I wasn't surprised to find out other Jews have nightmares about the Holocaust. I was surprised when I realised goyim don't have that- they weren't born with thousands of years of being chased inside of them. They don't have the fear of their ancestors running in their veins. Honestly, what are they even talking about with their friends? Because in my case, it always comes back to our Jewish trauma. Many Jews weren't in the Holocaust, and they are still burdened by insane trauma. Even if some aren't aware of it, I think that our generational trauma effects everything we do. No matter where I go or what I do, I'll still imagine good places to hide. I'll still have a nightmare about Nazis every once in a while. I'll wonder if the goy being so nice to me would hide me if I was in danger.

Never again.

[50sreboot]

So.....I was at a party last night. I met a woman who was VERY pregnant. For story sake we will call her Jill. We chatted off and on. I went out to the patio. Jill was over by the BBQ (it was not in use). I saw she was kinda bent over. She stood and looked at me and kinda smiled. "You like coke? Wanna line?", as she was clearing her nose. I was taken back a bit. A pregnant woman tooting lines. I rolled with it. I mean how many times do you see pregnant women smoking? I don't judge. I smiled and pulled out Clyde. Clyde is my bullet. Named so because he is orange. I grew up in the 80s - think Pac Man. She looked then kinda laughed. "No wonder we clicked" I took a run up both nostrils and we just stood there and enjoyed the silence away from the party for a few. Then shit got real. She came up to me later "I have an indecent proposal- wanna do a line off my belly?" I wasn't sure I heard her right. I have done lines off breasts, ass cheeks, thighs, vulva, necks, shoulders, but this was something different. My hesitation as I tried to make sure I heard her correctly was too long not to be noticed. She kinda withdrew a second. "I am sorry. Was I too direct? Too forward? I thought I had read you well enough?" I responded with the only 2 words I could manage "Why me?" She said she was curious about the experience, there was no longer a man in her life, and she felt like I could do it without making it weird for her." I said "I feel there was a compliment in there. OK. You pouring or am I?" , half joking. "Of course it's my treat. I asked" Put me in coach! So we went to the bathroom. She sat on the edge of the tub. I sat on the toilet and she put down big fucking lined. I thought fuck - I am gonna go blind or collapse on her, knock her into the tub fall on top of her and she is gonna go into labor. Deep breathe, exhale, and fire in the hole. Over the course of the night I learned she was into some kinky shit and I swear I heard a faint moan while I snorted line 2. And holy shit. I can't put words to what I felt. It was intense and her shit was good. I looked at her. My brain was forming sentences but they never were spoken. And the best I came up with was Did I do that good. The confusion of not hearing myself speak made her smile. "You just sit back and enjoy that a couple minutes. I will make sure you come back in one piece. So kink, or fetish, or whatever that was, it happened. Thanks Jill!

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Edge of Seventeen - Chapter Six.

Huge thanks to everyone who is regularly reading and offering commentary! You’re all lovely people! :)

Previous chapters - One  Two  Three  Four  Five

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 3,654

Warnings - 18+ content throughout, minors DNI!

Angel always hated when he forgot to draw the bedroom curtains at night, the streaming light disturbing his slumber, his sleeping off of the outlaw life and all the excesses that came with it. Except for one particular morning, when he awoke to see the sun lighting Bella so beautifully, it was an image he knew would be burned into his brain forever. Still, he took a picture of her, because she looked so perfect, curled up, as beautiful as she was adorable.  

He knew she’d want to see it, too, because usually, Bella looked feral when she slept, hair dishevelled, sleep talking, hissing; she was more sleeping funny than sleeping beauty. He’d nearly died laughing the week previously when she’d announced ‘there’s a chip shop over there! I’m driving the orange Beetle, there’s no bread rolls in Paris.’ She too had found it hilarious, the bread rolls thing swiftly becoming an in joke, Angel receiving a text a few days on, a picture of the aforementioned baked item with the text ‘NONE IN PARIS!’ accompanying it, cracking him up all over again.  

Lying there, he watched her sleep for a while before getting up and taking a shower, returning to find her beginning to stir.  

“Morning sleepy.” He leaned to kiss her, Bella rubbing her eyes and murmuring as she kissed him softly, stretching.  

“Blah, don’t kiss me! You’re all lovely and fresh, and I’m still grotty. Bog monster realness over here,” she complained, Angel snorting with laughter.  

“Nope,” he hummed, kissing her forehead. “No bog monster, just my beautiful girl. See, look. I have evidence.” He reached for his phone, showing her the picture.

Taking it, she sat up a little, focusing. “Oh! Look at me, I did a pretty sleep!”

He laughed softly. “You did do a pretty sleep. Are you awake now, or dropping off again?”  

“Hmmmm,” she pondered, handing his phone back and moving to cuddle against him. “Can I stay here on the chest until I make up my mind?”

She killed him with her cute, Angel kissing her hair, twirling a curl around his finger. “You’d better.” he chuckled, his fingers lifting the cropped Aerosmith t shirt she had on, stroking her back as her nails circled at his nipple, Bella clearing her throat and having a little cough before making a nervous noise.  

“Oh no. Oh, I think we have an issue, or at least I do.” Her eyes widened, feeling a little spread of warm between her legs.

“What?”

“I think my angry monthly guest just turned up. Oh no, I hope I didn’t puddle the sheets!” Angel moved, lifting her legs and checking. “Nah, but your undies weren’t so lucky. Come on.” Getting off the bed, he picked her up, carrying her to the bathroom.  

“No! What if I bleed on you?” Bella cried, embarrassed. She’d never gotten her period right there next to a boyfriend before, Angel snorting as he placed her down on the toilet.  

“Well, you didn’t,” he began, glancing at himself. “And if you did, it’s just a little blood. I ain’t gonna freak out. Just so you know, too, I’m totally down for shower sex if you need me to make you cum loads and ease your cramps.” He smiled, leaving her to get herself sorted out, Bella sitting there wondering how the hell she’d gotten so lucky. Her last boyfriend had shut her down completely when she’d mentioned to him that she had period cramps, telling her it was disgusting, and he didn’t want to hear about it. Angel? He just accepted it as something that happened without fuss.  

“You want pancakes, babe?” he called, as she was rinsing her underwear.  

“Please!”  

“Blueberry or chocolate?”

She was thoughtful for all of two seconds. “Both?”

“On it.”  

Another amazing thing about Angel? Damn, the man could cook. He made them enchiladas for dinner the night before, and they were unlike any others she’d ever eaten. ‘Veefe ar amafin!’ she’d muffled through a mouthful of cheese laden chicken and peppers, her tongue tingling from the smoky spices. Once she’d showered and cleaned her teeth, she went back into the bedroom, pulling on her bra and a pair of his grey sweats, which she had to turn up several times at the waist and legs, so they didn’t bury her completely, padding out to find him in the kitchen, passing her a plate.  

“I love you,” she cooed, taking it, kissing his thick shoulder.  

“Love you too.” He turned off the stove, picking up the syrup and moving to the table with her, smiling when he saw she was in his sweats. Some guys got irritated by their girlfriend stealing their clothes, but he loved it. He liked watching her make herself at home. “So, any thoughts over what you want to do today? I don’t mind, we can stay here and chill if your womb of doom is being too much of a bitch.”  

She snorted with laughter at hearing that, her womb of doom. “I’ll take some ibuprofen once I’ve eaten, so that should help with the doom situation,” she began, taking a sip of orange juice. “After that, there is somewhere I’d like to go. There’s a photography exhibit at the San Diego Museum of Art I’d love to go and see, but if you don’t want another long ride out there on top of taking me home tomorrow then that’s cool, we can just find something to do down here.”

He adored that about her, that she was so considerate of him as sole license carrier in the relationship, Bella still only learning to drive at that point and still freaking out about it all ‘being the wrong way around’, since she’d previously taken her driving lessons on British roads, of course. “Yeah, of course we can. Who’s the photographer?”

Bella sat and informed him all about the work of Frieda Sanchez, a young photographer from Los Angeles, who travelled the entire state to photograph urban landscapes, some with models posed, some with regular people, some without. Mostly, though, she was making a name for herself for her work she did with the homeless, using half of the money from her sales to give back to the community, a community she’d been part of for a few rough years in her teens. Bella thought she was fascinating, as did Angel too, by the time she was finished speaking of her and showing him some of her shots on Instagram.  

After getting ready, Bella emerged from the bathroom, Angel taking one look at her and shaking his head.  

“What? Did I smudge my eyes? Oh, bollocks! I knew I didn’t wait long enough for the liquid liner to dry before I put my lashes on,” she panicked, Angel getting up.

“No, no, it ain’t that. It’s just, most chicks just wanna be comfy and casual when they’ve got their period, and you? Look at you, still all glam, all sexy, rock n’ roll princess. Damn, I’m a lucky bastard.” She was wearing skin-tight black jeans, a little red velour cropped top with lots of fringe hanging from the bottom, a pair of skyscraper heeled leopard print boots that were more like stilts, and her makeup and hair immaculate.

Two hours later, and they were walking hand in hand around the museum, viewing the photographs in person, Bella studying them carefully, taking her notebook from her bag, scribbling things down.  

“Inspired?” Angel asked quietly, his eyes flitting away from a picture of a homeless woman laughing with joy as she sat beside a fountain.  

“Absolutely!” she replied enthusiastically, continuing her notes before placing the book back in her bag and returning her focus to the pictures. The way Frieda had captured the vibrancy in her subjects, she found it so touching, her favourite the series Angel had just viewed, the homeless woman by the fountain. The one that touched her most was a selfie style shot, Frieda holding the woman close as they both beamed, Bella touched by the fact that although the woman had so little, not even a home to call her own, she seemed so bright and happy.  

It was clear that the artist saw her subjects as people, real people, with emotions, with stories, some of which were included in the notes below the pictures, and it was this keen interest that showed through in her work. As he looked over each exhibit, Angel kept one eye on Bella, smiling to himself as he witnessed the notebook being brought out again, loving how there was no limit to where she found her own artistic inspiration.  

It seemed they were the cause of someone else’s inspiration, too, standing outside of the museum, basking in each other’s affection as they tried to decide what to do next, being approached by a face they recognised instantly.

“Excuse me, I’m so sorry to bother you guys. Frieda Sanchez.” She offered her hand forth, Bella gaping, bouncing excitedly on her heels.  

“Oh my god! It’s you! We just saw your exhibit, it was so bloody good!” she squeaked, Angel smiling at her enthusiasm.

“Thank you so much!” she replied graciously. “Yes, I saw you both looking around, and I hoped I’d catch you before you left. Would you mind if I took a couple of pictures of you? You guys are such a gorgeous couple, you’re both too good an opportunity to pass up. If you give me your email, I’ll send you the pictures I take, too.”  

They instantly agreed, Frida moving back and telling them to just act as they had been, to forget she was there. After taking a few shots, she thanked them, posing for a selfie with them that Bella took and getting her email before leaving them in peace, Angel finally being the one to make a decision over their next destination, and taking her for a burger. Of course, she chose one almost the size of her own face, getting into a huge ketchupy, mustardy mess while she ate it, and gave not one single damn.  

God, he loved her.

When Bella received the email from Frida a day later, she squeaked with excitement, viewing the pictures, falling in love with all of them. One stood out particularly though, them just gazing at one another, foreheads and noses touching, Bella’s hands rested either side of his neck, one of his around her waist, the other gripping her bum. It was candid and beautiful, and it showed clearly just how in love with one another they were.  

Hightailing it out of the lunchroom, she ran down to the art studio, where the large-scale printer could be found, along with the lovely lecturer who she knew would let her use it.  

“Professor Mackie? Can I please do a print?”  

The teacher, with her head of cascading, silver curls turned in her seat, smiling warmly. She liked Bella, often stopping by the music labs since that was where her fellow professor and husband worked, hanging around to listen to her sing. “Sure, Bella. Let's take a look.” Bella handed her phone over. “Oh, that’s a beauty! What a handsome couple you guys make! If you ever have enough, can I borrow him? I’ll have him back to you, bathed and fed in about a... week?”

Her wink cracked Bella up more than her words. Elizabeth Mackie was such a fun woman, never losing her zesty spirit, even at sixty-three years old. Locating a cable, she plugged in Bella’s phone to the computer and moved the image across, setting it up for A3 and sending it to the printer. One gorgeous black and white printout and a trip to buy a frame on the way home later, and Bella had a perfect surprise gift for Angel.  

“What are you trying to hide there?” he asked as she walked into his house two days later, after getting there under her own steam. He did wonder, why she said she didn’t need collecting from the station and told him she was getting a cab.  

“Open it!”  

Taking the large gift, he sat down, tearing the paper from it, raising his eyebrows. “Oh, baby! That’s sweet as fuck, look at that! Damn, we’re good looking!” He smiled, taking in all the little details of the picture, knowing it was swiftly going to become his favourite thing hanging on the wall there in the lounge. “Thank you, I love it.” He turned, kissing her before locating a hammer and a picture hook, of which he knew he had somewhere in the kitchen junk drawer.  

With a little help from her, he had it hanging up on the wall just above the TV in about ten minutes, standing back a little to view it.  

It was perfect. Just like them.  

“Right, I’m gonna get out of these frigging jeans and into your sweats. Bloody womb is on fire!” she announced, Angel snorting with laughter.  

“Alright, baby girl. You wanna do anything tonight, go out, or just be low key and get a pizza?”  

She immediately resurfaced from the bedroom, pointing at the drawer where he kept the takeout menus. “The square one, with the thingies and the things!”

“One square pizza, with chicken and olives for the crazy British girl.” He was one hundred percent fluent in Bella Thorpe at that point, usually knowing exactly what she meant when referencing thingies and things across a multitude of situations.  

Two pizzas, a couple of bottles of beer and one movie later, and she was content. Well... almost.  

“I’m so fucking horny!”  

Angel side eyed her, pausing from rubbing her feet, as he knew he’d have to after she’d decided to wear boots with six-inch heels all day. “Shower?”  

“Yeah, although I didn’t want to get my hair wet again,” she complained lightly.  

“Bitch, bitch, bitch,” he muttered, earning a foot in the thigh.  

“Oi! I’m not bitching, it’s perfectly valid.”  

He scoffed lightly. “Well, if you want it! Unless we put a towel down.”

She looked horrified at that. “Oh no, can’t. It’s still like the elevator doors opening in The Shining down there!”

He winced. “Yeah, thanks for the visual, baby.” He thought on it a little more. “Unless we use the sponge method?”

Bella paused from sipping her beer. “The flippin’ what?”

“Sponge method,” he repeated. “It’s how women who do porn still work while they have their period, they just shove a bit of clean sponge up there and it catches the blood.”

“Do you even have a brand-new sponge?”  

“Yep,” he confirmed gesturing in the direction of the bathroom. “There’s one in the cabinet.” He watched her as the cogs turned in her brain. “What are you waiting for?”

“I need to contemplate. I have to consider,” she spoke, finishing her beer.  

“If you go wash up all fresh before you put it up there, I’ll go down on you, too?”  

She was out of her seat so fast, she almost tripped over the coffee table, Angel guffawing at her. She located the sponge, cut a third of it off, and did what she had to do. Fifteen minutes later, and she was lying on his bed, his head between her legs, his tongue feeling amazing as it beat across her sensitive clit.  

“So, there’s really nothing coming out?” she checked with him. Again.

He sighed a little, raising an eyebrow. “Nope, nothing. Well, you’re really wet, but the sponge seems to be doing what it’s supposed to be doing. Just lie back, relax, it’s all good.” He had her out of her head with ecstasy before long, Bella finding both her pain and raging desire sated in equal measures, thinking to herself that she’d definitely try this again in the future. Well, so long as the sponge held up to Angel’s usual brand of sexual carnage.

Sitting up, he pushed her legs forward, her knees touching her chest, her puffy slit opened to him, the head of his erection swiping her thickened folds. He took a few moments to tease, stroking her with his cock before pushing within, sharply drawing in breath as her plush sheathed him, her wetness bathing his shaft in a hot, needy clasp.  

He viewed her intently, the way her mouth fell open and her perfect little tits began to heave, her helpless gasps filling his ears as his big cock bottomed out repeatedly, her reaction a feast for his eyes. The sight of himself entering and retreating her was mesmerising, gazing at the way his slippery shaft glided so effortlessly into her. He could feel her fluttering around him already, the sensation threatening to pull him under, make him mindless, drag him into careless abandon.  

“You’re gonna ask me if there’s any blood, aren’t you?”  

She crinkled her nose, smiling shyly. “Is there?”

“Not even a drop.” It felt a little strange, the tip of his cock hitting against the sponge, but not unpleasant, and certainly not in a way that would make him stop. Oh no. Only one thing would lead to that.  

“Where are you... oh. That’s where you’re going,” she purred, Angel moving to wrap his mouth around her folds again, delighting her with a very hungry suck. He groaned, all grit and gravel, his mouth full of sweet tasting, petal soft flesh, his deep brown eyes blown with near crippling lust.  

The press of his tongue over her hard little bud had bliss skittering through her, shuddering against his face as her legs tensed, enjoying it too much, if such a thing was possible, Angel moving to kneel before her once more, sinking back inside her. Her pounded her voraciously, every last inch of his girthy hardness, evoking her helpless wails, the lewd noises of their sex filling the air.  

A bonfire of lust roared up her spine, chased by fervid thrusts, feeling as if her insides were about to explode into glorious glimmers, Angel relentless, until he wasn’t.  

“You bloody bastard of a tease!” she growled, yanking his hair in her fists with a playful tug, Angel winking at her, looking smug before once again, taking a mouthful of her wet folds. “Come on, big sexy. Show me a little mercy?”  

“I am. I could go and sit on the couch and leave you in here by yourself. That’d be worse, wouldn’t it?”

She grumbled in frustration “I see the point you’re making. Still, it doesn’t lead to me getting what I want, which is to feel you spear me with that gorgeous, big cock.”  

“You’ll get it eventually, once my tongue is done. After all, my favourite thing to have in my mouth is you.” Teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue, the light little licks had heat misting her veins, panting hard, her empty core fluttering around nothing with the injustice of not being filled by him. Such was his need to simply fuck her without pause, he gave into that need quite quickly, spearing her fluidly, fucking her in absolute frenzy until she shattered for him, spent and breathless, shuddering beneath him as he filled her with his own thick ropes of release.

“How’s your cramps?”

She grinned. “What cramps?”  

“Ahhh, job done.” He looked pleased with himself, lying on his back and feeling all relaxed and dreamy, Bella going to the bathroom to retrieve the piece of sponge.  

“Angel?” she called after five minutes.

“’Sup?”

“Erm. I need some help. It’s stuck.”  

Oh shit.  

“Give it a few minutes. All your muscles are probably still all contracted and shit.” He had a point, as ineloquently delivered as it was, Bella sitting on the toilet and waiting, bearing down a little. Ten minutes later after a little root around, and she still couldn’t grasp it.  

“Baby? It’s still stuck!”  

Angel closed his eyes momentarily, trying not to laugh. “Jesus Christ.” Getting up, he headed into the bathroom, finding a very pink cheeked Bella sitting there. “Alright, get in the shower so you don’t drip all over the floor.”  

What followed was perhaps the most mortifying hilarity she’d ever experienced.  

“Can you feel it?” she asked, Angel trying to locate it, his fingers burrowed deep.

“Yeah, but I can’t quite get at it. Shit, it’s wedged up there good. I need tweezers.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re not putting those up there!” she cried.  

“Kitchen tongs?”

“Angel!”

“What? They have silicone grip! They’re soft!”

“You are not putting tongs up my fanny! And there we are, a hundred points to me for sentences I never thought I’d ever say!” she snorted, hand over her mouth as she cracked up, Angel much the same, still trying to pull the edge of the sponge down enough to grip it.  

“Alright, I’ll have to take you to the ER, then.”

Her scream of protest was immediate, and loud. “No fucking way. I can’t! The embarrassment!”

He exploded with laughter at that point, managing to finally grasp it between his fingers, yanking it out, his hand a bloodied state. “Well, looks like we’re taking a shower after all.” They both burst into hysterics, unable to stop as they laughed so hard, no sound came out.  

That’s how relationships were; you took the good with the gross. It also gave them another in joke to die laughing about all over again.  

“Hey, is there a sponge anywhere? I gotta clean my bike,” Gilly asked, coming into the clubhouse a couple of days later, Angel blowing out a mouthful of beer as he laughed, Bella at his side in a similar state. “What?”  

“Nothing.” They both chorused, looking at each other and dying all over again. Gilly never did find out why the mention of a sponge had sent them into hysterics, and never again did Bella ever use one for blood catching purposes. Shower sex was just fine, she decided.  

[novamirmirsblog]

I posted 499 times in 2022

172 posts created (34%)

327 posts reblogged (66%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@novamirmirsblog

@simpfornatasharomanoff

@just-a-torn-up-masterpiece

@missmonsters2

I tagged 182 of my posts in 2022

#natasha romanoff x reader - 13 posts

#natasha romanoff - 13 posts

#natasha romanoff imagine - 11 posts

#natasha x y/n - 10 posts

#black widow - 9 posts

#natasha x you - 9 posts

#natasha x reader - 9 posts

#natasha romanov x reader - 9 posts

#black widow x reader - 9 posts

#natasha romanoff x you - 8 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#sometimes i’m shocked when anons send me messages that include details about my life but then i remember i literally use this app as a diary

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Fading Memories

Word count: 1839

Request: Yes

Genre: angst

Warnings: possible tears, sad nat

A/N: y'all got a fluffy Loki fic, now have an angsty Natasha fic. Also, I cried while writing this and then realised I'm on my period so just know that I wont be rereading this anytime soon so any mistakes are just gonna have to stay for a while :) also blame @simpfornatasharomanoff for the sad ending. She had a choice and two of the three choices were happy but bestie chose the angsty one &lt;3

Something was wrong.

"Morning Y/n." You snapped out of whatever daze you were in, smiling and greeting Steve. "You ready to train some new recruits?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." That one sentence bought everything back. How could you have forgotten something as important as training potential future SHIELD agents? No matter. You remembered now and that was what was important.

The thought scratched inside your brain, growing stronger each time you tried to ignore it. It took hold of you like a slow cough. It was a tickling sensation first, barely enough to pop up on your radar, but the tickle grew. It grew until you weren't just forgetting names, but faces too. They grew blurry in your mind.

~~~~~

"Babe can you pass me the salt?"

You were sitting in a restaurant opposite... damn it Y/n. You remembered that you loved her. You remembered all the holidays you went on, telling her you loved her for the first time, all the risky missions the two of you had pulled off and yet you had no idea what her name was.

"Sure." You smiled at her and continued your meal.

The conversation washed over you. You worked out that this was clearly a thing the two of you did regularly and the intimate lighting reaffirmed your thoughts that you loved this woman. She really was stunning and you sat there trying to recall how the two of you met.

At first, you knew the names and faces were wrong but as the scratching of 'something is wrong' got louder, the worry caused by these mishaps faded away until you didn't remember what was wrong in the first place.

~~~~~

"Y/n you really need to remember to put the milk back in the fridge."

"What do you mean? I di-" you stopped as Tony held a bottle of room temperature milk, waggling it at you.

"I might be a billionaire who made profits from wars but we have to reduce our waste!" He teased playfully. All you could do was try to retrace your steps as you thought back to how you could have forgotten.

"Damn Y/n, maybe this is a sign to cut back on using the milk." Sam laughed joining in on the joke.

"Leave her alone. Like you don't constantly leave cereal out or the toilet seat up." Natasha came and stood next to you defensively, wrapping her arms around your waist and nuzzling into your neck.

You relaxed instantly but that niggling thought of something being wrong wormed its way back.

~~~~~

You were getting worse. You knew you were but you held on to the hope that because you knew you were getting worse, there was still time. You were sure Natasha had noticed. She was constantly waiting behind you when you cooked, pretending to be reading when in actuality she was making sure you didn't leave anything burning. You thought Steve picked up on it too, always berating the team if they made fun of you for forgetting things. You were no longer allowed out on missions. The excuse was that you were more valuable left behind to work on intel or mission planning. You didn't remember to question it.

"We need to talk about Y/n."

"Not now Steve." Natasha bit back. She didn't want him breaking the delicately created lie she was living.

"Natasha surely you can see it. Sometimes it's like she's not even in the room."

"I'm not talking about this." Natasha got up, refusing to acknowledge your worsening condition, convinced that you would be fine.

~~~~~

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190 notes - Posted January 24, 2022

#4

Wings - n.r

Word count: 2565

Genre: comfort/hurt

Request: yes

Warnings: self harm (kinda. like it's with wings but read at your own discretion)

A/n: It's been a hot min since I wrote anything 😬 Might make this into a lil AU. I kinda wanna explore more of Natasha and angel!r's relationship. Like meeting R's parents etc. WE WILL SEE THO XD Also, I changed it slightlyyyyyy I hope that's okay!

Pride wasn't something your species lacked. With wingspans that are easily double your height and reflexes that would make a panther jealous, there was next to nothing that could harm you. The pride each of you had wasn't cockiness but the natural confidence that comes with the knowledge that you are the top of the food chain. Being the apex predator meant you possessed both the deadly ability of a lion and the brain that would rival even the smartest of humans. If charming your way out of a situation was looking increasingly unlikely, then throats would be slit. Despite what people may think, your culture was not one of savages. It was rich and detailed and varied from clan to clan. There was one common tradition that everyone partook in and that was The Leaving. Once a youngling's feathers lose their fluff and gain their silky perfection, they are to leave their family and seek out new blood; be it territory, foods, cultures or people.

You were expected to leave and come back bloodied with victories and new territories to show for it. Each clan had a balance of specialties that were dictated by what your parents did. While a few were lucky enough to have a choice between two paths if their parents had differing roles, most didn't have a choice. You had never been close with your parents although this was a common occurrence. It was the grandparents who raised the young while the parents were off traveling the world to find the resources they needed. How were parents expected to contribute towards the clan's survival if they had to stop to raise children? It made much more sense for those whose wings could no longer carry them the great distances needed to look after the young.

Your parents had reached that age. Their wings were now nothing more than brilliant decorations, marked with each one of their victories. Unfortunately, this meant they now lived vicariously through you. When your beautifully glossy wings reached maturity, your parents all but shoved you from the comfort of your own home, eager for you to make your mark on the world and come back with grandchildren for them to mould.

Something you parents hadn't accounted for was that the world was vastly more populated than it was when they had set out. You could no longer just fly down, intimidate or charm the locals, and claim their land as yours. The weapons had become more developed and they had seen too many otherworldly creatures to fall for the usual tactics. This may have looked like a problem, but for your opportunistic ass, this was the dream.

You were finally free to eat as much as you wanted, drink as much as you wanted and lay with as many people as you wanted.

~~~~~

Your binge of freedom lasted a day.

You were promptly captured by some kind of new technology you absolutely had to bring back with you.

"You thought we didn't notice you?" A man called Fury, asked.

"I thought you were too feeble minded to realise."

"We keep tags on all life not from this planet."

You let out a short bark of laughter. "If you were here first then why are we all over your history? Hell we predate your history." Your large wings bristled, managing to overpower the technology just briefly "I have to ask, where on earth did you manage to get this?"

"Get what?"

"The contraption keeping me here?"

"I am not a contraption." A third voice entered the conversation, thick with an accent that didn't match Fury's.

The woman moved in front of you, her eyes glowing a shade of red you had only seen one other time. The time your grandmother died.

"Want to see some real magic sweetheart? Come with me and I'll show you everything."

You couldn't tell if the red flush on her face was from anger, exertion of keeping you there, or lust. Turns out you never got to find out as a sharp bolt of electricity knocked you out.

That was three years ago and since then you had fought with the Avengers and even become one of them. Your favourite battle was with Thanos. It was positively delicious to rip his slimy little arm off before Thor swung his axe through his head.

There was no real reason for you to stay other than you liked their company. Your parents were eager for you to come back and begin mating so you could head back out again but you had grown to like the humans you called your family. You had learnt many things while being here such as your wings were in fact retractable. Well, they weren't completely retractable but they could almost slide in on themselves, making them a practical size for walking around hallways and sleeping on beds. The downside however, was that you weren't very good at remembering to keep them in. That, and when certain people made you flustered, they just popped right back out again.

Your time with the Avengers had also changed you a little. You had a nickname - something the old you would have cut tongues out of mouths if she had been given one. It was created when Tony Stark had seen you smuggle an interesting looking spoon into your sleeve.

"Damn magpie, anything else of mine you want?"

You didn't know how to react at first. You didn't know he was talking to you and you certainly didn't know how you were anything like the pitiful creatures. Tony then explained the similarities and from that day, the nickname stuck.

~~~~~

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346 notes - Posted February 28, 2022

#3

Steven's Mom

Genre: fluff/angst/smut +18

Pairing: Natasha x reader

Word count: 3874

Request: no

Warnings: poorly written smut, cheating

A/n: This literally took me a good month to write, so I think it's safe to say this may be a little bit shit. If the punctuation seems off, it's cause Grammarly keeps being weird and making suggestions -_- BUT ENJOY! Cause I'm not sure when the next fic will be finished XD Yes, smoking is bad but holy shit is it hot when the right people do it.

Masterlist Natasha Romanoff masterlist

Relationships.

That word has always scared you.

Your friends would talk about their recent boyfriends and how they were going on cute group dates and where was your boyfriend Y/n?

Your answer was always that there was no point in settling down with one person when you were yet to try them all. Especially seeing as you had only just reached your 23rd birthday.

Sure, some may have seen that as 'flighty behaviour' and yes, perhaps you should have gotten a therapist when you were a lot younger - but you were always told you were going to be a heartbreaker and the long trail of flings you left in your wake was testimony to this.

Perhaps heartbreaker was a strong word. You were sure that only going on a few dates with a guy hardly led to their hearts being broken but you were pretty and could accentuate your almost forgotten accent which made all the boys fall into a line.

You had moved to America with your family when you were 16 but due to your desire to fit in, you had worked extremely hard on switching your native accent for an American one. It felt as if you were betraying your family but it was too late to break that habit 7 years on.

Using people as a means to an end is never a good plan. Especially when that person was a friend but when Steven had asked you out, you couldn't help but see a goldmine of opportunities.

Steven was sweet. He was the kind of all-American guy that was shoved down the western media consumer's throats. He played baseball throughout his school career and taught the little leagues on weekends. He had the body of a god and the heart of a saint.

For all intended purposes, Steven was perfect.

Steven would be your salvation.

~~~~~

After 3 weeks of non-stop dating, your university friends wanted to see the boy who had managed to keep the notorious serial dater interested for more than one date. You decided to introduce them all, telling your university friends that Steven was a friend from high school.

Obviously they all swooned.

You truly were living the 'American dream'. However your American dream all came crashing down one Tuesday night.

It had been two months since the first date and Steven had invited you over to his house after seeing a movie. You took your shoes off and hung up your jackets before you both made your way to the kitchen. Steven backed you up to the kitchen counter, kissing along your neck using too much tongue. You were a strong believer that neck kisses should be mostly teeth. The tongue was reserved for other acts. The sound of heels filled you with relief. You liked Steven but he needed to work on his game. It seemed that Steven was too engrossed to realise his mother was standing in the doorway.

You locked eyes with her and let out a soft gasp. You thought you saw her left eyebrow twitch but you couldn't be sure because as she took a step towards you, the trance broke and you pushed Steven away.

"Babe?"

She cleared her throat and Steven spun on the spot, his jaw dropping in a comical way before closing again as his face went red. "I can explain..."

"No need to explain Stevie, just don't do it in my kitchen please."

"T-this is Y/n, Y/n, this is my mom."

"Natasha." She extended her hand for you to shake.

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394 notes - Posted October 19, 2022

#2

Room 501

Genre: fluff 

Pairing: Natasha x reader

Word count: 1674

warnings: none &lt;3

A/n: My lovelies I have been ~struggling mentally~ Nah I'm kidding I promise I'm fine. But I have been suffering with a major block and my personal life has been questionable which is why you've had little to no fics recently. I can't lie, the lack of interaction on these fics is disheartening but I know my lack of writing is also partly to blame. If I'm being honest, the dopamine I get from your interactions is what keeps me motivated to think up new scenarios and write them down. On another note, I have more fish.

Your day had been going relatively well. You were driving back from a good day at work with the radio blasting and the windows rolled down. You were too engrossed with singing along to Adele to realise there was a motorbike weaving through the cars at a breakneck speed. You only realised when there was a sickening screech of metal on metal that the bike had spun underneath your car. A few moments after that the world turned to black.

When you awoke, you were in hospital with a minor concussion and a broken arm. The doctors asked a series of questions that you breezed through before declaring you well enough to go home. You asked them what had happened with the motorcyclist and the nurse and doctor shared a look before letting you know she hadn't woken up yet. You asked for her room in order to apologise but they refused, stating that they couldn't give you her room number but could leave a message with her. You asked for a pen and quickly wrote down a message on a used napkin.

It was 3 days after you had left the hospital when you received a text from an unknown number. All it said was 'floor 2, room 501'. You assumed it was the woman you had run over. The relief and guilt flooded your system simultaneously as you put your shoes and jumper on to go to the hospital. The whole way over you were battling with yourself - pleased that she had contacted you but embarrassed and upset about the circumstances. You told the front desk where you wanted to go and they directed you towards a flight of stairs. You hesitated before turning the doorknob of the room containing the woman you ran over. You gingerly stepped in, not wanting to wake her if she was asleep.

"I didn't know you'd be cute." Her voice was raspy - whether it was from staying in hospital or was just her natural voice you weren't sure.

Your cheeks heated up at her compliment. "Same here. I was worried you were old or something..." You trailed off, shifting your feet a little as an awkward silence filled the room.

"Come sit. I promise I don't bite." She had a look in her eye that told you she most definitely would bite but you sat in the chair next to her bed nonetheless.

She studied you intently before extending her non-broken hand to you "Natasha."

You shook it. "Y/n."

"At least now I know what name to sue." She winked at you and you let out a shocked laugh.

"Actually, we should probably exchange details so I can pay for the damage"

"No." Her answer was short and to the point. You barely knew the woman but you knew there was no point arguing and yet you did anyway.

"I literally ran you over. At least let me buy you a new bike."

"I'll let you buy me a drink." Her mouth curled up into a smirk.

"Sure. When are you out of here?"

"Not for a while. You have to sneak us out."

You looked at her, unimpressed. "I'm pretty sure that's against the rules."

"Against what rules?"

"The rules of life or something."

"Obey all the rules and you're going to miss out on the fun parts of life."

You glanced around the room, looking for a possible way out. Natasha looked pretty badly injured so you assumed walking all the way down the stairs and out the door would be out of the question. The windows were those suicide proof windows that didn't open all the way out which left only one other option.

"I decide where we're going and I take you right back here as soon as you finished your drink okay?"

Natasha thought it over "...fine."

You exited the room and asked for a wheelchair, claiming it was for your sick, old, aunt. You grabbed a scarf you saw on a chair and headed back to Natasha's room.

"Okay put this on your head." You handed her the scarf, positioning the wheelchair so she could slide into it.

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441 notes - Posted July 23, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Two little lines

Genre: angst/fluff

Pairing: Natasha x reader

Word count: 2752

warnings: swearing, unhealthy relationships, abusive relationships, pregnancy, suggestions of abortion - I think that's it.

A/n: omg have I posted a fic?? I think hell froze over. utter madness. NOW, enjoy this because I have 0 creative juice atm and this literally took a miracle to write XD This is a lil bit depressing but it has a good ending I promise. If you don't like abortion, don't read. We're pro-choice here.

xoxo

In real life, accidents aren't happy.

You're learning that the hard way. You are pregnant. Your stomach dropped and all you could hear was blood rushing through your veins. How could two lines ruin your life?

You didn't want this.

You couldn't do it. Not with him.

You were on birth control.

Natasha was going to kill you.

Your thoughts rushed just as quickly as your blood did. Your boyfriend's grin made you feel even more ill. Nothing about this whole situation was right. You didn't want children. Mark did, but you didn't. Mark thought you had stopped taking birth control a year ago and in some ways you did. You no longer took the pill but instead had an implant fitted. An implant that was 99% effective.

You wanted to cry.

Mark had been making you take a pregnancy test twice a month. He controlled your diet so there was the greatest chance of you getting pregnant and cut all alcohol. He still enjoyed a cold beer though. You had seen the horrors of pregnancy and wanted nothing to do with it. When you began dating Mark two years ago, you made it clear that children, unless from either a surrogate or adoption, would not be in your future. He nodded and told you he respected your decision.

How were you to know he still wanted a baby?

There were numerous red flags that you should have seen but didn't. If any of your friend's partners treated them the way Mark treated you, you would have gone ballistic. Unfortunately for you, Mark was extremely good at making those red flags look green. He slowly cut you off from your family, arguing that you were in a different country now with completely different time zones so of course talking to them would become difficult. Then it was your friends. He said he overheard them talking shit about the two of you, about how they only wanted to use you for your connections. He cried in your arms and the display of vulnerability from usually such a stoic man was the final nail in the coffin.

He had you hook line and sinker.

When he finally left for work, you knocked on your neighbours door. Natasha took one look at you, with your eyes full of unshed tears, and immediately let you inside. She sat you down in her living room and went about her apartment to make you a hot drink.

"I'm pregnant." Your tongue was thick in your mouth and your throat tight as Natasha handed you a mug of what looked like hot chocolate.

She didn't say anything.

"I don't want to be pregnant Natasha."

"There are... options."

"Mark would kill me."

"Mark is killing you Y/n."

And there it was. The same argument you had almost every time you spoke to Natasha. The two of you had gotten close when you had first moved in. She was there before Mark and she was determined to be there after Mark - because there would be an after Mark. Natasha was about the only person you could be completely yourself with.

Mark and Natasha hated each other.

Mark was convinced she had a crush on you and would tear the two of you apart and Natasha was convinced Mark was a monster.

You suppose, logically, Natasha was right. She had known you when you first moved to America and had watched as your smile became less genuine.

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441 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[imraespace]

CHAPTER 13: BEACH DAY 1

ARRIVAL.

──────── ─ ─

JUST THE WAY THINGS GO || MEGUMI X READER

It was around 8A.M. when your aunt break you out of your dreamland.

Only because, the discussion she had with Gojo was actually him inviting us out to a beach day with himself and Geto, along with Nobara, Megumi and Yuji. I was given the option to invite my own friends and that is what I did.

So here we are, standing by the school waiting for the others: The one who actually planned it, Gojo, and Geto.

Though, your friends were mumbling something behind you, but you didn't really focused on them.

"Why are we even waiting here?" Inumaki asked.

"No clue. But this is your chance to do what you failed to do on Friday." Maki joked.

The thing that he failed to do was obtain Mahito's student file. He couldn't find it in the office.

"How am I suppose to do that if I didn't find it the last time?" He rose his eyebrows at the girl.

"Did you forgot what happened when we first sneaked in the principal?" She argued back.

"Yes."

Yuuta sighed at the the duo then entered the conversation himself.

"Y/N came in for some student files for her aunt, maybe she accidentally took Mahito's file, since he's no longer in the school her aunt have no use for it." He simply said.

Just then Inumaki's brain cells started to work.

They all stared at each other for a while then a smirk grew on his face.

"Are you really gonna-"

"Miss Shoko can I enter the school I need to pee!" He blankly said.

Ieiri turned around and stared at the boy for a while then gave him to green sign to go.

It wasn't really sneaking, since there's no one around yet every corner he turned, he poked his head our expecting to see a person.

Finally! He made it to the nurse's office, then remembered it will be locked. The office option he had was climb through the window, that's always opened for some reason.

So he climbed through and started searching for the files!

Touching things he has never seen before, looking in odd places hoping to find it until he finally checked the desk and found a couple of files there.

Then he found it, Mahito's file with his student picture on it. Inumaki did a mini victory dance, snapped some photos and was about to.leave when he heard the noise of clicking.

During his victory dance, he failed to notice the footsteps growing louder towards him. Of course he ran and hide under the desk, staring at the floor to make out who it is that entered the office.

Then he noticed your feet. You're in the office?

He saw you walked closer towards the desk and heard some files shuffling on the table. You stopped for a while and was about to walk away but suddenly peaked under the desk, scaring the shit out of the boy.

"Y/N! Funny seeing you here right!!?" He laughed.

You on the other hand rolled your eyes and walked off.

I have no clue what you're doing here but I saw you through the window, next time don't get caught.." You mumbled as your friend came out from hiding, running up behind you.

"I fell inside here on my way towards the bathroom." He randomly said causing you to sigh.

"Atleast make them believable.."

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On your way out of the school with Inumaki following behind, you saw that your aunt and friends weren't alone anymore.

"Finally you're back! Did you both fall in the toilet or something!!?" Gojo joked, laughing at his own joke..

They all stared at the man for a while until Ieiri spoke up.

"Let's just get going.." She plainly said.

This beach day sounds fun but thing you forgot is that, you're gonna be with Megumi for a day. Not that you don't mind is that he certainly do and he makes it very clearly that it does.

But besides that, the small crew that was formed all sat in the back and began discussing something.

"I got the pictures." Inumaki said. They all nodded.

"Mahito.. He looks scary." Nobara started.

They all looked at the file, then at Yuuta.

"What?" He asked.

"You always know something so..?" Yuji asked.

Yuuta sighed.

But before he could discuss with them the car came to a stop.

"Time to get out kids!" Gojo sang as he came out.

We all looked at each other then left.

That is until Yuji, who was the last one to leave made out something in the corner of his eye.

His face lit up in surprise as he ran to Nobara and began pointing at someone.

She as well, was surprised.

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note: who was it!!? find out next time!!

[emmebearpaw]

Preface: Oops this one might be a little... sad? I can't define the emotion on this post other than generally bad. We all have bad late night takes. Do you ever think about how you identify doesn't really matter. I mean, it sorta does, if you can project your identity with enough confidence and volume to persuade the people around you to agree, than it does. But on the other hand. While I have the agender flag in my profile picture and am vague with my gender online, I don't really try in real life. This is because my ideal gender is not even considering my gender. If I have learned anything through my exploration is that I am generally happier when I sweep it under the rug, and to hide the things that most obviously remind me of my gender when I am feeling, what I hope I can describe as dysphoria. And thus in person, every time I am faced with an option to pick my gender on a form, to consider whether to enter my agab bathroom or, if they have one, the gender neutral toilet, I have to consider a series of questions. 1) Will this raise any questions? Will anyone ask what that means. Will they ask me what my preferred pronouns are? 2) Do I have to see any of the people around me ever again? Is this form anonymous? I know I should also consider my safety in this step, I usually don't even get to it 3) Do I care enough to bother with the questions.

The answer to 3 is usually no. And so I am, in real life, essentially just my agab. I've told, maybe half a dozen people. More people could know through discord but they never seem to bring it up. And like, that one is of course, easier for me. Not even getting into the debate of if I would consider myself trans or nonbinary, gnc, genderqueer, etc (no, sometimes, no, no), not being perceived as trans, or essentially not being trans gives me the privilege of being safer and passing through life easier. On the other hand, I don't consider myself neurodivergent. My best friend, who is a psychology major literally hoping to specialize in the learning difference we both were diagnosed with as children does. To her, I am neurodivergent. It's sort of a joke between us. Sometimes it doesn't feel like a joke to me as I tell it though. Other times it is though. I don't do research on if I'm neurodivergent any more. I figured by my 3rd deep dive into if I'm autistic that even if I was, I wasn't autistic enough for it to matter. Which is, probably ableist of me. If someone came up to me who kept piles of toys on their desk to play with while on the computer, who sang not just to produce music but to rattle their brain and then fill it with lyrics to shake around, who got a little too loud when they got excited, who got scolded when they were 6 for just walking away from conversations when they were done talking, who walked on their toes sometimes for no clear reason, and walked to the beat of songs playing only within their own head... I see why people ask. I see why people joke about me being kinda weird. To some people I do read as neurodivergent, but I agree with the majority in this case, the thing I am diagnosed with does not make me neurodivergent, and I'm not diagnosed with anything else. Even more "concrete" and "definable" things about me are flexible. If you can't see someone, how would you know if they are tall or short. Am I tall or short? I of course can measure my height. But you can't. What color is my hair? If you have had your hair dyed the entire time you have known someone they may not know you are actually a brunette and not blonde. Someone decides to start wearing contacts and everyone around them is weird out by it, despite the person ling how they look without glasses better. If I do not effectively signal that I am gay (which I don't tbh), then I am effectively not gay, despite my thought on the manner. If I don't voice my opinion on my favorite candy to my friends, they presume I like sour candies and buy me some for halloween, but its not. Anyways I kinda lost my point. Just remember that you don't get full control over your identity. You are just an informant of facts and its up for other people to interpret you how they see fit.

[iersei]

HELLO this event actively rotted my brain and i just wanted to chime in with some other smaller details that i've been rotating in the mind soup !!

-the san diego show was the only one that got the sex sounds from glenn's soundboard <3

-the dads wake up in a play pen to see 8-year-old paeden in a straitjacket. paeden was not actually turned into a baby for the first part. he didn't want to be affected by tilt's spell because he considered himself plenty strong as is.

-as he is the oldest and more verbose there, paeden has to translate henry's googoos and gagagas to tilt. he chooses to translate henry's "i'm very upset by this situation and would like you to help us fix this" (paraphrased) as "go fuck yourself".

-tilt reacts to this by trying to grab paeden, something that darryl and glenn succeed in stopping. during this, henry transforms into a baby bat (because baby henry can only wildshape into baby animals) in the hopes that, if tilt can't understand baby noises, perhaps she will understand bat noises. she cannot.

-tilt swats at henry for bat screeching into her ear, tossing him into a door. the door opens a little to reveal a scene from a movie (?), to which baby bat henry slowly closes the door. (this moment is a reference to muppet babies, which is what the daddy babies name for the oneshot came from.

-when tilt leaves to go to make applesauce, henry gets the rest of the baby dads out of the playpen and decides to briefly batatouille paeden. (will first tried to take a long rest to get another shot at wildshape to ratatouille paeden, which made the whole cast take a tangent into the validity of bat hands.)

-inside the playpen, glenn is trying to shove a circle peg into a square hole and ron is teething on some chewable toy keys (keys that do not work to open the door, they tried). ron then says that he is always teething. because, like a shark, he has multiple rows of teeth as an adult. which i think is just hyperdontia.

-as the cast planned to create the fake baby dolls choking inside the plastic bag, the crowd was very upset at the prospect. causing the cast to yell back that they were just playing the game and being strategic about it lol

-beth's horrible baby crying sounds were because her initial roll for tricking tilt was low. but after a beautiful rendition of "wheels on the bus" (which she forget the last bit of lyrics to) using her polyphonic singing, she got a second roll which she did succeed at.

-when they are in combat, ron is at the top of the initiative order but chooses to hold to his turn. while glenn is using illusory mind prison and henry is casting stone wall, darryl is using his three attacks to bite tilt's ankles. he uses his first attack to bite one ankle, the second to bite her other ankle, and his last attack to bite her other ankle.

-once they are out of combat, ron chooses to take his turn to spit and to say that his work here is done.

-to get the key from tilt, henry successfully intimidates her into revealing the key's location by threatening to use his diaper full of stinky baby vegan poop on her.

-darryl also tried to intimidate tilt using this method but fails the intimidation check. matt asks for advantage, and anthony tells him only if he takes his pants off live on stage. matt refuses because "God is watching".

-i just wanted to mention that the water that henry tries to impromptu baptize darryl with was toilet water that henry was using shape water on.

-in the teen section, scary is scribbling poetry about teen henry all over ron's math homework.

-NORMAL. GOES. APESHIT.

-it was already said but it bears repeating.

-when normal grabs the crossbow and threatens tilt, he has to roll to see if she believes him because "nobody believes them when teenagers are upset". (a choice that the crowd had A Reaction to, causing anthony to say "oh so it was just me then?" and he was right ngl)

-normal's first roll was a 3. but will got to use advantage from an earlier dad joke. to get another 3.

-to which the crowd collectively started clapping and chanting IN-SPI-RA-TION in a way akin to a pep rally/sports game cheer to give our school spirit kid another shot.

-he rolled a 6.

-while normal was going for the crossbow, glenn and taylor got into a loud anime-related argument. one that was loud as a distraction, "but the argument was real".

-the detention room was room number 069.

-meaning it was on the first floor and was why glenn and taylor thought throwing a desk through the window was a valid way to escape.

-when only one of the guards fall for ron's slip and slide trick, he tries to trick the other guard and tilt by spitting on his drawing to create the illusion of water on the slide. this does not work.

-the guards do get brutally torn to shreds when they eventually go through the window.

-paeden does age into a teenager when they go through the first door along with the dads. before they leave, darryl remarks that it's a shame that paeden is never going to actually grow up into a teenager </3

okay since they said that the san diego show is gonna be the only one Not recorded, i'll do my best to summarize the show for y'all!!!

-glenn's dad fact: the glenn close trio instagram (? i think?) is full of pictures of glenn standing next to a picture of the real glenn close

-darryl's dad fact: he and carol go to san diego very frequently because darryl likes the breweries and carol likes surfing! they have not "had sex" there once, but they HAVE made love (statements that made me cringe out loud)

-henry's dad fact: he and mercedes make a fake san diego burrito for themselves and the twins. it sounds awful.

-ron's dad fact: he thinks san diego is a type of eggo waffle

-the prompt that we rolled was called DADDY BABIES. the plotline? the dads (and paeden) went to the dimensional witch tilt toblerona to ask her to give them the strength of their youth back so they could find their kids. instead, tilt turned them into babies.

-the dads still have all of their memories of who they are as people and they can talk to themselves and to paeden (tilt does not understand them though, tilt only hears baby noises) but physically Being a baby affects their mental state just a bit

-ron wanted to stay a baby forever. henry tried to explain the concept of ageplay to him, darryl got confused thinking that ron just wanted to HAVE a baby like with samantha, henry had to explain fetishes

-during the baby section, henry is the most "adult" and ends up having to corral the others. darryl is a close second, but glenn and ron both Suffer Immensely

-while tilt is making. applesauce? the babies scheme on how to escape, involving an elaborate scheme in which henry uses mold earth on playdoh to make fake versions of themselves blue in the face and choking in a plastic bag and ron throwing his voice to sound like a baby crying. beth made the worst fake crying noise ever but then also gave us an INSANE dolphin noise when anthony called her out on it

-(also the dads had to roll object permanence to see if they thought tilt was gone forever when she was out of their line of sight. glenn failed this check very badly. darryl even played peekaboo with him to demonstrate object permanence and it failed. anthony made a horrible horrible joke that glenn's not a bad parent he just has bad object permanence even when it comes to nick)

-somehow this works? they trap tilt toblerona (glenn using illusory mind prison to make tilt think SHES the one choking on a plastic bag, henry casting stone wall on her to build a lego wall around her and effectively cask of amontillado-ing her) and then wander around the house looking for a way out.

-they realize they need tilt's key to escape, but first they watch an episode of bluey! henry is the only one who saved on a roll to Not be sucked into watching bluey and ends up unplugging the TV and going on a tangent about how screentime is bad

-(which is really fucking funny because he very explicitly says "lark and sparrow are well behaved because we set boundaries and have them play outside instead of using screens" and we all know how lark and sparrow are like. not???? not well behaved. henry im so sorry to break this to you but they are not well behaved-)

-anyways they get back to tilt, find and steal her key, and then open the door, promptly getting sucked through dimensions

-(darryl thinks for a second that he's in the rapture and tries to baptize himself in case his baby form isn't baptized. henry tries to help but goes on another tangent and they miss the opportunity)

-when they awaken, they find themselves now as teenagers in a classroom! and they see a GOTH PUNK SEEKER OF DARKNESS (phrases that made the entire crowd erupt in screaming, myself included)

-this time, darryl is the most stable of the dads! glenn coming in second, and then ron and henry were both. very teenager.

-darryl immediately offers to play ball with link. link is interested but ultimately gets shot down by tilt, who explains that they are in interdimensional detention forever

-glenn and taylor immediately bond over how cool they are

-scary asks ron if she can copy his math homework because he seems smart with a tie. ron agrees to let her but is very nervous about it (we later find out this is because he is not very good at math)

-teenage henry is a fucking delight yall. he sits there staring out the window at the trees and writing poetry (with long hair! long hair teenage hen is real!!!) about the trees and enjoying nature

-scary has to roll not to fall in love with him the second she finds out that he writes poetry (she fails)

-normal tries to bond with his grandfather. henry brushes him off entirely. its heartbreaking and also hilariously funny

-normal goes fucking apeshit yall. he gets so fed up of henry ignoring him and the others not talking to him and being trapped in this small room that he takes a crossbow and threatens tilt with it. she calls his bluff and he SHOOTS HER?

-at least, he tries. she catches the bolt and then tells him that if he's serious he needs to actually stab the bolt into her heart himself. he does. he's unhinged.

-tilt tries to explain her entire sob story backstory. darryl interrupts to boo her and call her a loser.

-glenn and taylor throw a desk out of the window to break it open. going out the window Will Kill You.

-ron paints the window like a slip and slide to try and trick tilt into going into it. it doesn't work. however two guards come in and it DOES work on one of the guards

-the other guard eventually gets physically thrown out of the window by taylor, who proudly declares that this will not affect him at all

-henry goes to talk to scary. scary gets excited, but then henry just asks if she thinks that teen darryl would go out with henry because even though he's "not henry's type", something about him is captivating. scary is heartbroken.

-darryl overhears this and rejects henry on the basis of him still dating carol! but offers to set henry up with carol's friends.

-glenn and taylor use awful fireworks to blind tilt, the other guard (that taylor kills), and normal since he was in range.

-scary tries to be bitter and calls henry out for being blind, but henry wasn't hit with the spell and immediately says some fakedeep shit about seeing more than most people do. it is insanely funny i cannot stress how funny teenage henry is

-link is now convinced that public schools were a mistake and he needs to leave Right Now. he rolls a nat 20 on taking the key, but uses it for himself to fucking dip. he just ditches them. he bolts for it. normal even tries to give him a high five and link completely goes NOPE.

-when nobody else has another form of escape, henry takes out his sketchbook? that apparently he always has as a teen? and uses summon creature to draw a boar and bring it to life. the boar smashes through the door and now they are saved!

-it is here that it is revealed this was all a dream but specifically a dream set pre-canon. darryl makes a comment about link being a narc. glenn tells taylor to never change because he's perfect exactly the way he is. scary tells ron that he sucks at math (and ron is very confused about scary's existence he doesn't know who she is).

-HENRY. tells normal to be the best version of himself. AND TO HELP HIM WITH THAT. he draws. TEENY. TO GIVE TO NORMAL AND INSPIRE HIM TO BE HIS BEST SELF. and that is how normal came up with teeny the teen as the mascot of teen high

-it was such a fun show, i'm so glad i got to attend! shame that it isn't being recorded

[katielovably]

In the end ofFebruary I got Bean ( I post enough pictures of my beloved kitty) before that I had told my brother I had messaged the man "selling" her (she was free and came with a little cat tower which she loves. Anyway, he said (like he was my dad instead of my two year younger brother) fine but your taking care of her.

We get her (two or three hour drive maybe more because we didn't know where we were going) and I apologized and almost had so many panicking moments until we let her out and I held her. I loved her since.

But like a week or two after getting her our septic acted up. My brother turned to me and asked "did you put Bean's poo down the toilet." Back story my first year after I graduated I had a kitten named LB. She was my first indoor cat (growing up on a farm we had barn cats or cats my mom would let in) and one day while I was scooping out the litter, my fresh out of high-speed brain was like "hey , my poop and pee can go in the toilet why can't LB's" so I put LB's poo and pee in the toilet... then something went wrong with septic and my dad came over to see what was going on ether I told him or he asked I don't remember. But I told him, what I been doing. He said don't do that then why. I was like ok and never done it again. Now it apparently a running joke that ether my dad or middle brother run whenever I have to take care of a cat.

My brother asked me many times if I had put cat poop down the toilet how many times. And one time my nana asked if I gave Bean milk. Anwser for both Common sense, NO! I'm not stupid! I'm fucking 26. I'm an adult. Not a fucking child. "Jokes like this that keeps bringing up something long forgotten and makes the person look stupid need to burn. Because it hurts. It's infuriating. It's embarrassing. I was fucking 18 or 19. It's called learning from mistakes. Yes, I made a mistake doesn't mean you have to keep bringing it up. Because I don't do it to everyone in family.

[dukewilbury]

Drinking Alcoholics Under the Table

I was tailored made for alcoholism. My genetic makeup includes nearly all of the heavy-hitting drinking cultures - Russian, German, English, Scottish, American Indian. I have an alcohol tolerance reserved for Irish dockworkers. This is dangerous for a person with my brain. Addictive personalities rarely manifest themselves with sound financial planning and physical fitness. Instead, I got hooked on cigarettes and strong drink. Also self-destructive patterns of behavior, self-loathing, and anger. You know, the classics. Factor in that profound Catholic and Jewish guilt and you get a tattooed Sailor crawling across his bathroom floor at the 3 in the morning during the working week praying for his own death in between trips to the toilet bowl.

I know all the clichés and shitty jokes about drinking and alcohol. I know all the synonyms for drunk. I know how to make it, drink it, use and abuse it. I know every culture that has ever existed on this planet has figured out a way to intoxicate itself. Which makes sense when you think about it. The world is a better place with a drink in you. Jokes are funnier, music is better, and life isn't so rough. So yes, people get drunk. Even Muslims, who don't drink alcohol, often drink fermented honey. Intoxication, in one form or another, is global.

I started drinking in earnest because I had no idea who I was when I took my uniform off after work. That isn't an exaggeration. I never cultivated serious hobbies that I couldn't drink while pursuing. I never had a family of my own that required my full-time attention. I was a playboy. Utterly. Everyone who really knows me knows this is true. With no interests that don't include drinking, no sense of self, and an addictive personality, I was as sure of needing treatment as the Cleveland Browns are of missing the playoffs.

I drank everything... I once dehydrated myself so badly that after drinking three quarts of water I took a piss for the first time that day, five hours after I woke up, and it came out like rust. I once threw up at a stop sign on the way to work. I once threw up walking down the pier to my ship... at 6:30 in the morning. I've woken up in strange bedrooms, confused, and looking for the cat that shit in my mouth during the night. I've lied about my drinking and hid it. I got away with it for so long on active duty because I'm somewhat charming and on good days I'm kind of funny. People let things go more easily when you do that. Was I ever an alcoholic? I don't know, but I know I could sit at a table full of alcoholics and drink them under the table.

I learned a lot on the way to the wacko basket. I learned more in it and afterward. I learned I didn't have a problem; I had a solution I didn't like. I had to get honest with myself and that's a brutal conversation to have. I also learned I had my entire chain of command in my corner. That, more than anything, is the most important part of this piece. I know a lot of you reading this are on active duty, and I know a lot of you are scared about seeking help. So let me kick you the real deal for a bit.

After I admitted I was suicidal, and I got help for my whole host of issues, I never, NEVER, not once, got hit for my problem. I never took so much as a counseling chit for getting help. My evaluations made no mention of treatment. What I did get was 30 grand worth of in-patient treatment for free. No one looked down on me or thought me weak because I got help. I was treated with more decency than I've ever been treated with in my entire Navy career.

The Navy's Drug and Alcohol Program Advisors are actually there to help. You cannot go begging for help AND expect to get off the hook for a crime you already committed, but you can refer yourself BEFORE you're in deep shit and make progress. In making progress you may very well understand not only yourself but the world in which you live. You may gain a deeper sense of empathy, and believe me, empathy is one of the most powerful traits you can possibly possess. You become a better human being in the process.

The last salute comes for all of us in uniform. Once that uniform comes off for good you're just another person who was in the Navy once, and no one really cares how many medals you earned or how many people you lead. What's going to really matter, in those places between the flesh and the bone, the parts people will talk about when you finally pass away, is what kind of human being you were. My chain of command and friends supported me the whole ride through and forgave me for my sins when I finally had to courage to admit them. I learned a lot of lessons, some of which I've detailed, but none more important than this: we can all stand to be forgiven.