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gghostwriter · 1 month ago

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Three's a Sideshow

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Spencer misses an important date and ends up paying the consequences Trope:Angst w.c: 4.2k a/n: this is one of the many many requests of @lavonee (her exact request was: maybe spencer misses an important date/anniversary because of jj and reader is finally fed up being second place to her) trying my best to address all of them. Not proofread. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

The hazy dim light of each candle on the white linen covered table gave the restaurant an orange hue. Various aromas of meat, wine, and complimentary cheese wafted through the enclosed space. Sensual tones of the saxophone lightly played on the speakers perfectly weave through each muted conversations between loved ones—couples and families. The high-end restaurant basked in good food and great company.

Everything was perfect.

Every costumer joyous and warm from the delicious wine.

All except for one, alone by the corner booth, phone pressed to your ear and eyes scanning for the tall, lithe form of the date for the night.

Beep. Beep. Be—

You grimaced at the busy line tone that answered you, again. Hands gripping the draped linen, trying your best not to tap your newly manicured fingers on the table—trying to blend into the background, unsuccessfully.

You stuck out like a sore thumb. All dressed up with no partner or food on the table, just a glass of once chilled wine—condensation all around it like tears of abandonment and longing.

The same waitress who escorted you to the table—15 minutes ago, approached with a perfectly rehearsed smile.

“Ma’am, are we ready to order?”

You sighed. “Actually, my boyfriend isn’t here yet—”

She bit her lip, nodding, before quickly averting her eyes to the queued up line outside the premise.

Right. It was a Friday night and every adult in the vicinity wanted a night out to unwind and start their weekend on the right foot.

You tightly smiled, the embarrassment of tonight painting your cheeks a deep maroon, unnoticed through the flickering of the orange candlelight. “—you know what, I think I’d just have a slice of your chocolate cake to go. Yeah, I’m sorry about holding up the table.”

The waitress nodded, understanding washing on her face. “That’s alright. I’ll have your order packed and ready to go.”

“Thanks,” you murmured as you watched her leave.

Tonight was suppose to be special.

You dressed up in the same white with purple printed flower midi length dress, styled your hair effortlessly, and spritzed on your favorite perfume that smelled like a luscious garden after a rainy night.

Everything was just like how it was two weeks ago—including your boyfriend of three years, Spencer Reid, not showing up for the date.

You didn’t even know why you bothered. Why his promise of being here tonight made you feel giddy and trusting. Why his commitment on having do-over for the actual anniversary dinner that he missed two weeks ago made you think it was going to end differently and why you gave him another chance—

Another chance to let you down.

Another crack in your belief that you were important.

Another heartache to soothe.

Another let down.

When you first entered the relationship, you understood the gravity of his work. How his career will always come first and how unpredictable it all may be.

That part—accepting those facts, were easy. You were always one to be tolerant and understanding ever since childhood, labeled as the easy kid—the independent, the self-sufficient. Mixed in with your highly demanding career as a doctor, you got it—the patience and consideration of a saint.

A martyr, your good friend once bluntly said.

But what good was being a martyr when the person you’re killing yourself for didn’t notice?

It didn’t matter at first. Missed messages, missed calls, missed dates were just a work of rotten timing from both ends. Sometimes it was you having to run to the hospital for an emergency surgery and sometimes it was him having to catch a plane to a latest serial killer case.

The tandem of both independent and busy people in the relationship worked, love blossomed regardless.

What made it different was, there was three of you in the relationship.

The third party being an intense platonic, as he once defended, connection with Her.

You felt it for the first time during a get together with his found family. Your set of eyes trained to read in between the lines for the truth patients unwittingly hide from their doctor. It was a skill that you honed and never hated, up until that moment.

The stolen glances when the other wasn’t looking.

The emotion veiled between the eyes.

The unsaid words that seemed to spill from the silence.

Never mind that there were two presences in the vicinity that could have their life altered in any minute from the secrets long hidden in vaults. It was as if you and her husband were considered ornaments, pieces of a possible aftermath not worth saving.

You knew of their past—Spencer admitting to having a crush on her during his early days with the team, asking her out on a baseball game date, and her recent admission during a case.

Everything was water under the bridge, your boyfriend assured you. But the thing was, water had a way of overflowing from confinement, turning deadly, and ravaging what once was an idyllic garden that bloomed from your affection.

Now as you pay for the tab and collect your things, you felt the tides that destroyed the solace inside of you well up to your eyes—wanting the release you’re fighting to keep at bay.

A fight you’re bound to lose.

You whispered a thank you to the waitress, soft and quiet that you were unsure if she even heard it but that was the best you could do, the sobs closing your vocal chords and threatening to escape, making you a spectacle—leaving the restaurant alone, with a boxed cake on hand.

What a sad sight.

You fumbled with the phone again, hands shaking as you insert the key on the ignition.

Beep. Beep. Be—

Nothing.

What even was the point of all of this, you wondered. All this emotion, love, that was once sweet and heavenly now all felt rotten, puss oozing from its pores and flies exalting for a feast.

Slowly backing your black 4-door sedan out of the parking lot, you pondered if this was the end—did you have any more left to give? Or was this just a bump on the road for the your future selves to learn and heartily laugh about?

———

The rattling of your keys as you dropped it on the ceramic plate across the main door disrupted the silent, empty apartment.

A small smile graced your face as you remembered spontaneously booking a ceramic wheel class with Spencer in tow. His initial worries about getting under the nails dirty and the bacteria that could be collected from any stranger that used the items before the both of you swept away with your giggles and assurances to double up on vitamins.

There was a wide grin on his face then, accepting defeat from the sight of your enthusiasm and glee.

It was one of your greatest memory with Spencer and when the glazed pottery came from the mail—yours, a wonky blue green plate and his, an uneven moss green bowl, you had him promise to take you again.

A promise that never came to fruition.

You sighed, eyes tracking the rented space you never quite moved in to. The walls painted this dark green color, reflecting the somber mood you frequently found yourself in and the shelves filled to the brim with books you never dream of reading.

in hindsight, maybe your subconscious was telling you something. Why you never agreed to Spencer’s casual asking of you to live with him. Why you were adamant of keeping your own apartment regardless of the nights you spent outside of it.

This place became your pseudo-home, comfortable but never quite permanent.

The distant murmur of a car being parked on the street had you clambering up from your defeated, slouched position on the leather couch. In your gut, you knew who it was.

You spotted them exiting the SUV.

The two figures that make the relationship three—a sideshow for everyone to see.

Spencer and JJ.

They talked for a bit, probably saying pleasantries of goodbyes, before she leaned in for a hug. One that he reciprocated, patting her back as he went.

They looked like a couple and if you were in your right state of mind, you’d chalk the exchange up to nothing but you weren’t—you were wounded and unsure of your standing ever since you exited the restaurant.

Were you his first still?

Or were you just second place?

They were questions you never wanted no, needed, to be addressed but it seemed like tonight was the night of reckoning.

As you watched Spencer enter the apartment, the smile on his face from spotting you slowly become a furrow between his brows, you fidgeted—pulling the coat tighter to your body, the one you never hung on the back of the door—ready to bolt.

“Love, I’m so sorry I missed our reservation—”

He went in for a kiss on your glossy lips.

A simple act that you didn’t have the energy to accept, you turned your head to the side. His lips catching your cheek instead.

“It’s fine,” you sardonically replied. “It wasn’t like I was waiting for you for half an hour to show up. It’s fine, Spencer.”

His brow twitched.

“It sounds like it’s not fine. Why don’t you tell me what you really feel? We promised to openly communicate, didn’t we?”

You huffed, throwing your hands up in the air. “I said it’s fine, Spencer. Why don’t you give it a rest?”

“You look beautiful,” his calloused fingers gently caressing your hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t show. It’s just that JJ and the tea—”

Your last thread of reason snapped clean from hearing her name.

“It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it? Me coming after her?”

“Love.”

“Don’t touch me—don’t call me that,” you pushed his hands away, tucking the escaped tendrils behind your ears.

His own, raking the wavy brown hair you loved, in frustration. You could tell, with how his hands opened and closed, that he was itching to touch you, comfort you.

“Her? You mean, JJ? She’s a friend. Just a friend.”

“And if this friend wasn’t married with kids, would you still be here with me now?”

Silence.

There, you said it.

“What—yes, yes of course. Why would you ask that? Why would you doubt it? Doubt me?”

Your gut twisted inside of you. It was inconceivable for someone like Spencer to lie, wasn’t it? He was a good guy, one of the best. But all the hidden resentment in your heart—a pile you weren’t even aware of, no longer wanted to be silenced. It no longer wanted to be pushed to the side for optimism and denial.

“I don’t know, Spencer. Maybe it’s the way you look at her—” voice raising up an octave. You’ve lost control, verbally dumping out everything. “Do you think I don’t see it? You look at her with this, this nostalgia and—and this emotion that I can’t compare to—never seen it when you look at me! Or maybe, maybe it’s because you drop everything for her? Including me?”

“Are you talking about when Henry got sick?” his hands finding a home on his hips. “I thought you understood—you of all, should have.”

Your laughter turned into a sob. “I do—I did, until you dropped me of unceremoniously back here, in this apartment, just so you could rush out to her home. Like I was some kind of secret, you didn’t want to bring around her. Like I was some sort of disease, you didn’t want her catching. Didn’t you think I would be of great help? A licensed medical doctor?”

“I wasn’t thinking straight—I thought you, you shouldn’t be exposed to the type of flu Henry contracted. You could have gotten sick too and could have passed it on to your other patients.”

“It’s my job to take care of the sick, don’t you think I take measures for my own health? Spencer, please, for once just be honest with me.”

He tilted his head. “Honest about what?”

“If it’s her you really want and if I’m just a passable substitute to settle down with.”

You could see his eyes blazing with such—disgust? Anger? You didn’t know what emotion it was before it was snuffed out, leaving his expression blank and almost sad. It was a look you were familiar with, his profiler look.

“I don’t need you profiling me and my insecurities, Spencer. I just want the truth. The God-honest truth.”

“I love you. I can’t imagine a life without you—I won’t imagine it. Isn’t that enough?”

Your hands drop to your side.

“I don’t know. Is it?”

The distance created by the silence between you and Spencer was vast. You’ve never felt quite alone and isolated in the relationship until this moment. Was this it, then? The end to your once dreamed of happy ever after?

“I’m sorry I missed the dinner. Why don’t you let me make it up to you? We can book the same restaurant for next week and—”

“You can’t just make up for a make up anniversary dinner, that’s not how it works in real life, Spencer. And besides, I don’t want to see the same pitying looks the workers there give me when they realize my date is again, and again, a no-show.”

He sighed, slowly invading your space. The arms that once felt like home to you, circling your waist, now felt foreign. You never imagined you’d get here but then again, who did?

Your hands clasped his button down before loosening its grip. Taking in one more whiff of his cedar-wood and mint perfume, you pushed him away. Stepping backwards from his presence and all he had to offer.

“It’s late. We’re both tired—”

He nervously smiled. Intertwining his fingers with yours and started to walk backwards to the direction of the bedroom. “Yeah, we can talk about it in the morning once you feel better.”

You wiggled your hand free.

“Actually, I think I have to go.”

Spencer paused, panic coloring his face. “That’s—that’s not what I meant, love. Anything but that. Please, please I love you and I’m sorry.”

“Me too, Spence. Me too.”

You slowly gathered your things, sans the chocolate cake left opened and untouched on the coffee table.

“Happy anniversary, I need space to think this all through—to think us through.”

He stood still, blocking your way, trying to wrap his head around the direction this was going to. The inevitable downfall of him and you. It was a car crash no one could no longer escape from.

“Please, let me fix this. I can do it, just—tell me how. Do you want me to limit my time spent with JJ? I-I can try, just please, don’t leave me.”

It wasn’t a promise, you noted. With how many broken promises there were between the span of your relationship, you wondered if that was a conscious choice of wording from him. It sounded hopeful, gleaming with oath even. But they were just words at the end of the day, packaged pretty for you to swallow.

“I need time, Spencer. I’m not breaking up with you, I just need space,” you placed a kiss on his cheek, wet from tears. “Can you give me that, love?”

He choked a sob.

“Promise me you’ll be back. Promise me.”

You tightly smiled, making your way back to the door. The unanswered plea hanging in the air like a blade, waiting to slash down between you—waiting to sever the connection that was once shiny and new.

Shakily removing the spare key of the apartment from your chain, you chanced one last look at his hunched form—sobs emitting from his sweet lips and acid rain spilling down his cherub cheeks, regretting that this might be your last memory of Spencer Reid.

You didn’t know if you’d be back.

If the thought of being second place will ever go away.

But the sinking feeling in your gut tells you the truth—that this is it.

This is final.

This is the end.

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

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bluepoodle7 · 2 years ago

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#PapaJohns #PapaJohnCustomParamesanCrustedAnchoviesThreeCheeseBlendPineappleAlfredoSaucePapadia #BuffaloDippingSauce #Papadia #ParamesanCrustedPapadiaReview

I tried a Papa John's Custom Anchovies, Three Cheese Blend, and Pineapple With Alfredo Sauce as the base sauce Paramesan Crusted Papadia with Buffalo Dipping Sauce and it was pretty good.

This papadia was sweet and salty while also cheesy. But not overly of the three to me. The alfredo sauce was light though on this papadia and the three cheese blend went well with the parmesan crust. The crust was soft and crunchy and the anchovies were salty which went well with the sweet pineapple.

I actually love anchovies and pineapple on pizza but i'm not really into spicy stuff.

The buffalo dipping sauce smelled spicy and tasted spicy while lightly salty but not overly salty to me. This was liquidly in texture and will give you a slow burn if you eat a lot of it. This gave the papadia a spicy kick and didn't taste overly salty to me. This dipping sauce also tasted smoky to me.

The Pepperoncini Pepper was fresh and a little spicy when I bit into it. This tasted fresh and was soft but firm when I ate this pepper.

This tasted a little salty to me but not overly to me.

I would eat this again.

#Papa Johns #Papa John Custom Paramesan Crusted Anchovies Three Cheese Blend Pineapple AlfredoSauce Papadia #Buffalo Dipping Sauce #Papadia #Paramesan Crusted Papadia Review

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ladykailitha · 2 months ago

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The Au Pair Boy Part 2

We interrupt your regularly schedule "Of Butterflies and Backstrokes" for another chapter of the nanny AU. I just need to cut down on the amount of backlog I have on this story and bolster OB&B while I work on the Halloween-esque metal band sequel "Around the World".

I am living for the responses to this fic. It makes my heart so happy!

In this we have a correct Robin, well... a mostly correct Robin and they all get to know each other a bit over dinner.

Part 1

Steve walked into his apartment feeling like he was walking on air. He never thought he would get his dream job, in his dream house, with his dream guy, who was gay. Like what did he do to warrant such a windfall?

The first thing he did was call Robin.

“Are you sure he isn’t some mass murderer?” Robin asked after he had explained the job. “Because that sounds too good to be true.”

“Well unless major rockstar and music producer, Eddie Munson is a mass murder,” he snarked back, “I high doubt I’m going to be murdered in my sleep.”

“You could be being catfished,” she warned. “He could only be pretending to be Eddie Munson just lure handsome young men to their deaths.”

Steve laughed. “Uh...no. The pictures online matched all the way to the cute dimpled smile he gets when he’s feeling super happy.”

“Ooh...” Robin teased. “Hot musician got it bad for the au pair boy.”

“No...” he whined. “He was looking at his daughters when he smiled like that. No dating the hot parents. That’s the number one rule. You know this.”

She burst out laughing, too. “For the married ones! But he’s single. It’s been a year since his very public break up with ex Ethan Giovanni. He’s trusting you with the two cutest girls ever. Like why not tap that?”

“Because I want to keep watching said little girls,” Steve huffed. “Plus he’s going on tour for three months in two days. Not going to happen.”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “For now.”

He told her about how they wanted to him to start that night and how this was the final test on whether or not he would be good fit.

“Knock ‘em dead, babe,” Robin said. “You’ve got this.”

Steve opted for a chicken lasagna with white sauce. He could sneak some vegetables in there and see if he could trick them into eating them.

He shredded the chicken and blended spinach and basil into the sauce. Added lots of shredded cheese as well as a well seasoned ricotta and popped in the oven.

While it was cooking he went up to the room that would be his if he got the job. It was large for some place where the help would be staying, but small in comparison to the girls room. Which they shared for now. Once they started school, Eddie said that they would be given their own rooms, but with them being so young it was good to keep them together.

Steve agreed.

He was close by, but he also had a baby monitor with camera that the app would be downloaded to his phone.

The house was well fitted with security measures that had only been tightened since the girls were born.

The room had that same Gothic, spooky feel, but wasn’t over the top with it. Instead of reds and blacks the room was dark browns and deep blues. Steve felt like he was floating on a ship on the high seas. He scratched his cheek thoughtfully.

He wondered if he could go a little harder on the nautical theme. There was an en suite bathroom that could also lean toward the nautical with its soft blues and teal color of the tiles and walls.

Eddie had given him a budget to decorate his rooms and now he was planning a shopping trip with Robin.

Steve knew he was getting ahead of himself, but he wanted the job so bad. Surely the universe wouldn’t be so cruel as to taunt him with it only to take it away.

He checked the timer on his phone and saw that it was almost time to check on the lasagna. He trotted back down the kitchen, again admiring the decor of the place. Everything felt antique but timeless at the same time.

He really did love it.

The kitchen was even stylishly antique in look and flavor, but all the appliances were state of the art. Only nothing was connected to the internet here. It was honestly freeing in that regard.

He hummed to himself as he pulled the dish out of the oven and set it on the stove top to let it firm up a bit before serving. He started to get down plates and cups for dinner. He quickly set the table for three adults and two children. Noting that one plate had a pink kangaroo and the other had a blue ballerina.

Steve correctly guessed which plate where as each girl came running up to the seats that they were sitting in for lunch and gasped in surprise that the right plate was in the right spot.

“Daddy, Daddy!” Joan cried. “He didn’t put my plate in Jannie’s spot!”

Eddie grinned down at his youngest. “So he did. Say thank you.” He turned to Janice, too. “You too, little miss.”

“Thank you, Stevie!” Joan and Janice said together.

Steve practically melted on the spot. He wanted to scoop them up and hold them forever. “I hope you’re all hungry, I made enough for an army.”

He set the dish on a couple of hotplates and everyone, yes even the girls, oohed and awed.

“This looks amazing, Steve,” Eddie said, positively salivating. “You didn’t have to go this far. Something simple would have been just fine.”

“Yeah, Steve,” Chrissy said, leaning forward to smell the lasagna. “I might have to haunt this place while Eddie’s gone if you’re going to cook like this, sweetie.”

Steve blushed as he dished out the lasagna, before serving himself a slice. He picked up his plate and silverware (which looked like actual antique silver, he was not looking foward to handwashing them later) to move to the kitchen.

Eddie looked up at him with his big puppy dog eyes. “Where are you going? You’re going to eat with us right?”

Steve looked around the table and no one said a word against it. “Oh. Um... I’ve never eaten with the whole family before. I eat with the kids when it’s just us, but usually when the parents are there, they want me to eat in the kitchen.”

“Sit.”

Steve set his stuff back on the table and next to Eddie. The only other open on the far end of the table. He dug into his lasagna.

“So you want to break down their evening routine for me?” Steve asked after his second or third bite.

“No business at the dinner table!” Joan cried, kicking her feet in protest.

“Yeaahhhh...” Janice chorused. “That’s the rule.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at Eddie. Who coughed into his fist and looked more than a little sheepish. There was definitely a story there and judging from the sly grin Chrissy was giving him, Eddie was no doubt the reason for said rule.

Eddie cleared his throat and set down his fork. “I’m, was a music producer for a very prominent metal label and before that I was the lead singer of ‘Corroded Coffin’. One of the few and I mean very few valid points my ex had was that I wouldn’t be present at the dinner table.” He twisted the rings on his fingers nervously.

“I would either be talking some band or another, messaging different people about the record I was working on or even just on the phone with former members of my band. So when I quit two years ago to try and save my marriage I still had people calling me and asking for my opinion, so the rule no business at the table was born.”

Steve smiled down at his plate. “No business at the dinner table then.” He paused and tilted his head to the side. “Would be asking you girls what you like business or just being friendly?”

Both girls looked at Eddie for guidance. “I leave it up to you, girls. I think it falls under being friendly.”

Joan cocked her head the side and instantly Steve was struck on how much like her dad she was. “I think it’s business,” she said with a pout. “Like in preschool.”

“I think it’s friendly,” Janice said, just to be contrary to her sister.

Chrissy and Eddie shared a knowing smirk and Steve realized this was a new thing and they might need those separate rooms sooner rather than later.

“How about we compromise,” Steve said gently. “I’ll tell you something about me, and if you want to you can share your favorite thing. Like if I said my favorite color was yellow, you could tell me what your favorite color is. But you don’t have to.”

“My favorite color is pink,” Janice said proudly. “Daddy says my room will be pink.”

Joan stuck her tongue out at her sister, because she knew she was had. “My favorite color is blue.”

“My favorite color is black,” Eddie said, joining in. “And red. Can’t forget red.”

Chrissy giggled. “Well, I guess if everyone else getting in on this, mine is green. I love that it’s the color of fresh cut grass, and spring, and how hot I look in it.”

Steve snorted as he was bringing his glass up to drink. Thankfully he wasn’t quite drinking when she said that. “Green’s a great color.”

Eddie and Chrissy shared another smirk.

“Ooh, I know why don’t we go around in circle,” Eddie suggested. “Like my favorite movie is ‘Lord of the Rings: Return of the King’.”

Steve smiled around his cup and then set it down. “I like that idea. My favorite movie is ‘The King’s Speech’. Colin Firth as King George VI and learning how to overcome his stutter? Amazing.”

Janice bounced up and down in her seat excitedly when she proudly cried, “Paddington Bear!”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Yep, and now there always has to be marmalade in the house at all times.”

Steve chuckled. Poor Dad. “Have you seen the second one yet?” He knew there was a second one, but not when it came out.

Janice nodded fiercely. “Poor Paddington!”

“Barbie and 12 Dancing Princesses’!” Joan replied next. “There are so many pretty dresses in that one!”

“Ooh,” Steve cooed. “That’s a fun one. And there are so many Barbie movies to chose from, have you watched all of them yet?”

Joan nodded as Eddie shook his head sadly. “So, so, so many times. Same with both Paddington Bear movies. So have fun.” He flashed Steve a smile that was half between a grin and a grimace.

“Well I haven’t seen any of them yet,” Steve said with a wink a Janice. “You’ll have to show them to me tomorrow.”

“My current favorite is ‘The Quiet Place: Day One’,” Chrissy said. “Lupita Nyong’o is just too gorgeous for me to not watch every movie she’s in. I even watched Marvel movies for her and I’m a DC girlie all the way.”

They went around the table learning favorite books and other things about each other. Joan forced to participate so she wouldn’t be left out of the conversation. Then after they were all done. Steve cleaned up and put the leftovers into the fridge.

Then he watched as Eddie put his girls to bed. They got baths on Tuesdays and Saturdays unless they were super messy that day. They brushed their teeth to Daniel Tiger song and got into their pajamas.

Well...pajamas for Janice and a nightgown for Joan. Each one got a different story complete with all the different voices. He was assured he wouldn’t have to do the voices. That was only a Daddy thing.

Then the lights were turned off leaving the glow of the bumblebee nightlight to lighten the room and find its way into Steve’s heart.

Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

10- @kultiras @morallyundefined @ollieolive

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #nanny au #nanny steve harrington #rockstar eddie munson

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facts-i-just-made-up · 5 months ago

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Elden Ring Guide: Children of Marika

Elden Ring's DLC is out and with it come more hard to remember names. Luckily, you can remember Marika's godly offspring with a simple mnemonic: "MMMMMMM." This stands for:

Miquella the Unalloyed

Miquella has not been blended with tin, thus he is called "The Unalloyed." He has mind control powers and three and a half arms.

Melania, Blade of Miquella

Melania fights for Miquella and is thus called his blade. She is also the goddess of rot, which means she has wings made of butterflies.

Margot, Star of Barbeeh

Margot is the king of Leyndell, the capital city of a land with no remaining living beings. Thus it is very hard for him to collect taxes.

Mileena, Really Mean Lady

Mileena is a bit of a bully. She is known to break the thumbs of those who attempt to enter her needlessly complex fatality codes.

Marlene, the Blue Angel

Seductive and smart, Marlene is like a siren whose singing abilities can seduce even the most stalwart professors and leave them alone.

Margerie, Annihilator of Universes

This goddess has suffered for decades from the maniacal and demented family she married into, hence her infinite HP pool.

Macaroni, the Pasta Reborn

A horrifying monster of carbs and cheese, this unthinkable being can inflict thousands of calories per serving and cause atherosclerosis.

#elden ring #bloodborne #the simpsons #marlene dietrich #mortal kombat #unreality #sote spoilers #shadow of the erdtree spoilers

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tonyspank · 1 year ago

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FIRST PLACE

Summary: You and your fellow cast mates play Spill Your Guts or Fill Your guts with James Corden.

Warnings: kissing, gross food and yea

"Hello, everyone!" James Corden announces to the crowd. "Here we have a wheel of all of the food you may or may not eat." You, Jenna, and Mason look at the wheel as James continues, "We've got cow blood & pork tongue jelly. Our lovely favorited, the bull penis."

The crowd laughs. Jenna quickly looks away, her face turning pale. Mason shakes his head as his eyes widen with shock while you laugh. James notices their reactions and grins, "We also have bird saliva, bug trifle, jellyfish, a giant water scorpion, and many other items."

You, Jenna, and Mason look at the foods placed in front of you with disgust. James smiles proudly, marveling at the wheel of food. He giggles, looking around at the three of you before announcing, "Welcome to the world of exotic cuisine!" Jenna let out a groan, Mason playfully rolled his eyes, and you just shook your head. You all had no idea what you were in for.

"Is that whipped cream?" You ask your host, pointing at the 'bug trifle'. James grinned. "No, that's not whipped cream. It's a special blend of cream cheese and grasshopper larvae." Your mouth drops open. You stare at the trifle in horror. "Uhh... I think I'm going to pass on that one."

"Just because you said that, I'll make sure to pass it on your turn." You smile gratefully as Mason shakes his head in disagreement, "That's totally unfair!" Mason looks at you and says, "I hope he replaces your bug trifle with the cow and pork jelly." You laugh and shake your head. " I think I'd rather take my chances with the bug trifle!" You and Mason laugh and Jenna joins in, finding the sound contagious.

"Y/N!" The crowd roars at the mention of your name, and you grimace. "This question is for you." James looks at you, holding the card in his hand. "But before we get into that, we'll have to choose your dish."

James looks at you, holding the card in his hand. "But before we get into that, we'll have to choose your dish." You take a deep breath and give a nod. You can feel the anticipation of the crowd, "I choose... bird saliva!" James picks, a playful grin on his face.

"That's not too bad," says Jenna, who is sitting next to you. "Let's see." James fully lifts the card. "Y/N! Who is the worst celebrity you've ever had to interact with?" Jenna Mason, and James turn to you expectantly.

You smile, "Umm... Wow! I'm really on the spot here." You could think of millions of names, but did you really wanna go through with the gossip? You look at the bird saliva that's now been spun in front of you, and then back at James.

Mason speaks up with a smile on his face, "Just say her." He jokes, pointing at the brunette beside you. Jenna's mouth widens in shock. You just laugh, and everyone joined in. "You got me, Mason. It's Jenna." You joke, turning to her and giving her a smile. After thinking about it, you can't do it. You lift the glass and indeed take a sip of the bird salvia.

Jenna grins and shakes her head, amused. Mason's face lights up as he cheers. James laughs as you swallow the liquid, gulping down the water right after. "I just wanna know why you drank that instead of saying a name!" Shaking your head you place down your glass. "Never again."

Mason laughs, "That was a brave thing to do." Jenna nods in agreement, "That was really courageous of you." James pats you on the back, "Well done, mate!" You smile, lifting up your hands in triumph. " You look around with a smug look on your face and say, "Oh, it was nothing. Just another day saving the world."

Everyone laughs and applauds your bravery. You playfully take a bow and bask in the glory of the moment. Jenna now picks up a card, holding it to her chest. "Mason, Mason, Mason." She repeats as her eyes scan over the food choices. Mason hums in acknowledgement, watching his co-star scan the items. Jenna smiles as she finds what she is looking for, "I chose the giant water scorpion for you."

"I can't believe this. I can't believe you!" Mason holds his hand over his heart, "I thought we were co-stars!"

Mason laughs, his mouth widening into a smile. Jenna's eyes twinkle mischievously begins reading the card. Mason listens, shaking his head in disbelief. "Who was the most annoying person on set?"

Mason looks around the room, his eyes meeting each of the crew’s. He points a finger and says, “Time to dig in!” Everyone laughs but it soon turns into shock as Mason quickly stuffs the scorpion in his mouth.

"It was probably Y/N," James jokes and you shake your head laughing. Mason swallows the scorpion in one gulp. Everyone stares in amazement and disbelief. Mason then says, "That was the most annoying person on set!" You can't help but laugh at Mason's comment. He looks around, a satisfied grin on his face. Mason then stands up and takes a bow, as everyone else applauds. He sits back down, picking up a card.

"Jenna, I want you to eat the bug trifle." Jenna thins out her lips and James laughs, "Any who! You've recently signed a deal with Adidas." Jenna nods in agreement and the crowd cheers, you lift your hands clapping along with them. James smiles, "You should be proud, it's a great accomplishment. You should celebrate with a bug trifle!" Jenna thins out her lips and James laughs.

Mason tilts his head with a nod at James' joke before raising the card again. "How much did they sign you for?"

Jenna doesn't spare Mason a second glance, the spoon already in her hand. Mason raises his eyebrows and James speaks up, "Really? Not even an estimate?" Jenna slowly shakes her head, scooping a spoonful of the trifle. "Don't forget the little roach too." You say, pointing at the roach onto of the trifle. Jenna shoots a glare your way, then turns back to her trifle. She takes a bite, her expression unchanged. Mason lets out a sigh and James just shakes his head.

Though she tries to stay strong but picks up her bucket, spitting it all out. "She thought she was a champ!" You laugh, looking at the crowd. They all begin laughing and Jenna searches around for her water, "Where's my water?" She asks. You hand her your own and she takes a sip.

She smiles at you and thanks you for your kindness. She then turns to the other people in the crowd and gives them a thumbs up. "I'm good!" she says. The crowd cheers as she straightens her back, and now it is your turn to grab a card. "Mr. Corden." He hums, smiling. "I want you to devour..." He raises an eyebrow at your choice of words earning a giggle for Jenna. "The jellyfish!"

You both laugh at the absurdity of it. "Or! 'I get to see what your last three texts with Justin Bieber were about." James pulls out his phone, nervously looking down, finding 3 texts worth showing. He slowly hands his phone to you. "Justin says, hey man how are you? It's been a while." You smile, glancing at the crowd. "James says, pretty well. I have a few things planned for the show. How is everyone on your side?"

James nods, remembering when he typed this, but he doesn't remember Justin's response. "Justin replies, thumbs up emoji." James grins, pleased, as he takes back his phone. "Nice lil convo there," Mason says and you nod in agreement. James pockets his phone and turns back to Mason. "Thanks, it was nice catching up with an old friend."

Jenna picks up a card, smirking at you. You inhale a breath, "Throw it at me Ortega." Playfully she lifts the card in her hand throwing the card at you and you catch it with one hand. "Hey, show off," Mason laughs and you smile, feeling a bit of pride. "You know it," you reply.

She jokingly snatches the card back, using it to point at the cow blood & pork tongue jelly." Jenna grins, "Wanna try it? I heard it's really good." You make a face, "No thanks, I'm good. I'm sure Mason's game for it though." Mason laughs, lifting his hands in surrender. "I'll pass too," he says. Jenna shakes her head reads the card, "Y/N."

You smile at the girl sending her a peace sign, "Rank these kiss scenes from worst to best." You drop your face into your hands, the crowd gets louder by the second.

The girl looks at you stunned and you can feel your cheeks getting redder by the second. You really didn't wanna eat the dish in front of you. "Mikey Madison in Scream V, Alexa Demie from Euphoria, or me... in our new movie." She laughs, and you take a deep breath, "Umm!"

Mason's eyes widen. He then thinks of an idea, "Wait! Hold that response." He holds up a finger, taking his phone out of his pocket. He starts to type something. You can see the excitement in his eyes.

He looks up at you with a smile and says, "We can't leave her out!" He was going to call Mikey! She was a sweetheart and you really did enjoy your kiss scene with her. She was a talented actor and kisser! Mason quickly Face-Timed Mikey, who answered on the fifth ring. "Hello?" She says, her soft voice playing through the speakers.

You throw your head back groaning as Jenna and James wave at the camera. "We're on The Late Show right now and Y/N's about to rank her best kisses from worst to best!" James cheers as the audience erupts in laughter. You try to keep a straight face, but can't help but laugh at the ridiculous situation.

You take a deep breath and start to rank your best kisses from worst to best. "Um... Alexa because my character was a rebound. Ummm..." you glance at Jenna who looks back at you amused, and then at Mikey who smiles softly.

"Jenna because! Spoiler alert, you kiss Chad right after and then Mikey! There! Boom!" You stand up from your chair and the crowd screams. Mikey laughs and Jenna rolls her eyes in good humor.

Mason says his goodbyes to Mikey as James closes out his show, "There you have it everyone! Y/N's best kisses from worst to best! Make sure to check out Scream VI in theaters now! Have a great night!" The crowd erupts in applause, and Jenna and Mason stand up waving at the crowd, you do the same blowing kisses as well.

You take a bow with the cast and head backstage. Jenna and Mason thank you for joining them onstage, and you all hug one another. You make your way offstage, filled with a sense of accomplishment. As you walk back to your dressing room, you can hear the cheers of the audience still echoing in your ears.

You smile to yourself and bask in the glory of the moment. You can't believe how far you've come and how much you've achieved. You know that this is just the beginning of a long journey.

Half and hour pasts and you're sitting down in your dressing room, scrolling on your phone. Your fans didn't know you had a TikTok as you scrolling through the app on an alt account, sometimes interacting with them. You hear a knock on the door and you quickly put your phone away. Jenna appears from behind the door, a smile on her face.

"Oh! There's second place," you joke, standing up. Jenna laughs and says, "Our kiss scene deserves first place." What does it matter if I kiss Chad after? You're literally a homie hopper." You raise an eyebrow, "You cannot call my character a homie hopper as you admit to kissing their best friend in the same sentence."

Laughing, Jenna rolls her eyes, stepping closer to you. "I deserve first place." You smirk, "That's not how it works. It's all about believability and you can't portray a character like that and expect to win." Jenna sighs, "Fine. I'll concede, only..." She steps even closer, now having to look up at you. You feel your heart beat increasing, the air between you thickening.

Jenna looks at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes, her lips twitching into a small smile. "If you let me get a rematch." She finishes. She holds your gaze, awaiting your response. You feel a smile tugging at your lips, and you can't help but agree. "Alright, you've got yourself a rematch."

She steps back and you furrow your eyebrows. I thought she was going to kiss me? You think to yourself.

"Y/C/N," Oh. She actually wants to redo your scene. You step closer and she smiles but quickly removes it, getting back in character. You hum, tilting your head at the shorter girl. "I wouldn't- I wouldn't be hurt if you left." You furrow your eyebrows as she looks away, her eyes resting on the ground.

You sigh, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Why would I ever leave you Tara?" you ask softly. You can feel the tension between you, but you know that it's only for the scene. Or is it?

She shrugs, her gaze returning to yours. "Because my life's messy. First you get tased by my sister and then you get chased around a bodega by Ghostface." You try to make a joke, but she doesn't laugh. Instead, she turns away, her shoulders heavy. "It's like I'm cursed," she says quietly.

You reach out and gently touch her arm. "You're not cursed," you tell her. "You just have a lot of bad luck. We can get through this together." She looks up at you and finally smiles, her expression softening. Your hand moves to her cheek, caressing it softly.

She leans into your touch and takes a deep breath. For the first time in a long time, she feels a sense of peace. The gaze moves from your eyes to your lips. You both lean toward each other slowly. You both close your eyes and your lips meet.

You feel the warmth of her lips and the warmth of her body. In that moment, all your worries and stress seem to melt away. You wrap your arms around her waist and pull her closer. You can feel her heart beating in time with yours, and you know in that moment that everything will be alright. You stay in that embrace, feeling the warmth and peace of that moment, until reality slowly starts to come back.

And scene. Well Chad was supposed to walk in after, but... hey!

You begin to pull away put Jenna pulls you back into another kiss, with more intensity. You kiss her back with the same intensity, her tongue finding it's way into your mouth. She eagerly explored every inch of your mouth, her soft lips pressing hungrily against yours.

You responded eagerly, your hands exploring her body as your tongues entwined. You felt her hands roaming around your own body, a sensual exploration that left you trembling with desire. You each felt a warmth that spread throughout your bodies, the intensity of the moment pushing you further and further. You both pulled away, breathless and smiling.

Suddenly the door opens. "Hey, guys!" You and Jenna jump after at Mason's voice. He looks between the two of you, confused. Mason takes in the scene, then grins and shakes his head. "Uh, nevermind, I'll come back later." He backs out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Huh, he did end up walking in after.

"Jenna Ortega, you've now been awarded with first place." Jenna jumped with joy and screamed. You shake your head at her acting, she then jumps into your arms, placing her hands on both sides of your face - pulling you into another award winning kiss.

#reader insert #jenna ortega #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x reader #wattpad #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna x reader #jenna ortega x gn!reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x g!p reader #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna ortega imagine

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mypimpademia · 1 year ago

Text

— Croissants, Cookies, & Coffee

Pro Hero! Bakugo x Cafe Worker! Black! Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Jagged edged pro hero Dynamight begins to show up to his local cafe just a little too much.

TW: Swearing

“Next in line, please,”

Customers and passerby’s gawked a the man you only smiled politely at. His tall, hulking figure towered over everyone, sticking out like a sore thumb, and his reputation did nothing to help the attention. He seemed tense about it all, the prolonged stares irritating him to no end. But seeing you unfazed, warm lights glowing on your brownskin, gave him some sort of grounding.

“Good afternoon Mr. Dynamight. Should I ring up your usual, or would you like to try one of our new items?” The words fell off your glossed lips so casually, as if you weren’t speaking to the most powerful man in Japan.

“Don’t call me that,” he snarled. “It’s policy,” you said in unison with him, his eyes rolling in annoyance as he kissed his teeth.

“I don’t give a shit about policy, you know what to call me,” he told you, before humming in thought. “I’ll try that fuckin’ peach shit, but only if you make it for me.”

“One pretty peach refresher,” you said, smiling whilst typing the order into the screen in front of you. “What size?”

“Large, and that’ll be all,” he said, reaching into his pockets for his wallet as he mumbled to himself. “Fuckin’ pretty peach refresher, who the fuck comes up with these names?”

You stifled a laugh, lips curling inward. He swiped his card on the reader before you could even tell him the price, huffing as he put his wallet away.

“Thank you, I’ll bring your order over as soon as it’s done,” you chimed.

Swapping places with one of your coworkers, you took on drinks for the moment. To anyone who didn’t know better, you were only doing this because if someone like the explosive pro hero Dynamight says, you do. And in a way, they weren’t wrong.

But your drinks are the only ones he’ll take. Hell, that’s the only time he takes anything, even the pre made baked goods, anything else gets sent back. Your coworkers were convinced your quirk had some magical touch aspect to it. How the hell could he tell if a cappuccino was made by you or not?

A scoop of ice, a cup of dehydrated peach, a cup of peach juice, some water, and a blend later, his order was ready. As you approached, his attention was turned towards the window, simply watching as people and cars passed.

“Katsuki,” you uttered, handing the drink over. “Enjoy your pretty peach refresher.”

Your emphasis on the three words made him roll his eyes again, but you didn’t miss the smile he covered with his cup as he took a sip.

For months, that’s how your interactions went. If you ever asked Katsuki why he progressed passed this in the manner he did, he’d be far to ashamed to say.

Sure, he made nearly daily visits, sometimes coming twice a day. Once in the morning, and then again on the way back home. But his visits soon became erratic, as if he was going for reasons he didn’t want anyone to know.

“Good morning, Katsuki,” you hummed, placing his plate in front of him. “One eggs, ham, and cheese croissant sandwich for you.”

You walked away too fast to see it, only focused on getting through the morning rush of people. Had you stayed a second longer, you’d have caught him watching the morning sun illuminate your features.

That was his first visit of the day. You knew he’d be back soon, as he’d been coming more frequently, just not as soon as he did.

“Since when did you guys have cookies?” The blond asked, nodding over to the display of baked goods.

“Always,” you told him. “I can ring them up for you if you wanna try?”

“Only if you bring them to me,” he smirked.

The aroma of warm chocolate chip cookies had you salivating as you walked them over to his usual window booth. You needed to remind yourself to steal some before clocking out.

“Here are your cookies. And this is your second time back in,” you checked the clock. “Six hours? You beat your record from last time.”

“Yeah?” Katsuki asked, fake surprised at his own timing as he bit into a cookie, humming in satisfaction.

“Yeah,” you smirked, running your hand over pulled back coils to make sure your hair was still neatly in its bun. “Were you hungry or did you just miss me?”

You were standing just feet away from him, and even now he missed you.

“Fucking starving,” he teased, making you kiss your teeth. “You just happen to make all the shit I like.”

You raised your eyebrow in amusement, bearing your teeth in a glossy lipped smile.

“Oh? Like the cookies I only put onto a plate for you?” You asked, pointing to the now empty plate.

“It’s just different when you put it on a plate,” he shrugged.

“Right, right,” you nodded. “Gotta get back to work, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Katsuki came back just two hours later.

“Y’know, I was joking before, but this is getting concerning,” you huffed, placing the mug of coffee onto the table. “This is your third time back, and you were here just two hours ago. And who orders coffee at noon?”

Unbotheredly, he takes a sip from his coffee and says nothing.

“I know you hear me,” you huffed.

You folded your arms over your chest, annoyed that he wouldn’t give you a straight answer. Something was obviously bothersome him, and he was itching to get it off his chest.

“Don’t get me mad on shift Katsuki,” you said sternly. “What’s actually going on.”

“Honestly? I just missed you,” he shrugged.

You were just ready to go off on him, but he sounded so genuine that you held your tongue. This was far from your usual dynamic, and the sudden shift had you at a loss for words

“You free after work?”

—

Taglist: @megurulvr @ivanari @planetlunaa @romiantic @szaplsdropthealbum @dreampurpledreams @goldenglow149 @gender-queery @roaringlion @cosmiles @tatiquichi @kxtsxkii @lillizxzz @starsoir

Send in an ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.

—

Thank you for reading, comments and reblogs are appreciated! Follow for more!

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amirasainz · 7 months ago

Note

Hey sweetie, could you do more Kelly and max with reader please, reckon their underrated

FLUFF!!! Enjoy reading and let me now if you have some requests. I will take a short break from writing to focuse on my lasts exams. But afterwards, I'll write all of your requests.

-XoXo

No Part 2!!!

Sunset Serenade

Max Kelly and Amira had always been inseparable. Their love story was etched in the sands of time, and the beach was their sanctuary—a place where laughter danced with the waves and secrets whispered through the salty breeze.

The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the Amira Luxury Resort’s private beach. Max, with his sun-kissed hair and easy smile, spread a blanket on the sand. Kelly, her eyes the color of the Aegean Sea, unpacked a picnic basket filled with fresh fruit, cheese, and a bottle of chilled wine.

Amira, radiant in her sundress, twirled toward them. Her laughter echoed as she skipped across the sand, her feet leaving delicate imprints. Max and Kelly watched, hearts swelling, as she spun like a dervish, her joy contagious.

“Look at her,” Max whispered to Kelly. “She’s our sun, our moon, our everything.”

Kelly nodded, her fingers brushing against Max’s. “We’re lucky, you know. To have found each other and to share this paradise with Amira.”

As the sun dipped lower, they settled on the blanket, toes buried in the sand. Amira strummed a guitar, the notes blending with the rhythmic lapping of the waves. Kelly leaned against Max, her head on his shoulder, while Amira sat cross-legged, her eyes wandering towards the horizont.

“Sing for us, Schatje,” Max pleaded, his voice like a seashell pressed to her ear.

And so, Amira sang—an old spansih ballad of love and longing. Her voice carried across the beach, weaving through the palm trees and reaching the distant cliffs. Kelly hummed along, her eyes never leaving Amira’s face.

The sky transformed—a canvas of pastel hues. Pink melted into orange, and the sea mirrored the colors, as if the universe conspired to paint their love story. Amira’s fingers danced on the guitar strings, and Kelly’s heart swelled. She knew this moment was fleeting, yet it held eternity within its grasp.

After a while, Amira leaned against Kelly, her head resting on her chest. “Tell me a story,” she whispered.

Kelly glanced at Max, who nodded. “Once upon a time,” Kelly began, “there were three souls entwined by fate. Amira, the poet, sang of love. Max, the racer, painted sunsets. And I, the dreamer, wove their stories into constellations.”

Amira’s eyes sparkled. “What happened next?”

Max leaned in, his lips brushing Kelly’s temple. “They danced under the moon, their laughter echoing across the waves. And when the stars blinked awake, they made promises—of forever, of love that transcended time.”

Amira sighed, her fingers tracing patterns in the sand. “I want that,” she said softly.

“You have it,” Kelly whispered. “In every sunrise, every shared smile, every stolen kiss.”

As darkness settled, they huddled closer, wrapped in the cocoon of their love. Max hummed a lullaby, and Amira’s eyes fluttered shut. Kelly pressed her lips to Max’s, tasting salt and sweetness.

“Forever,” Max murmured against her mouth.

“Forever,” Kelly echoed.

And so, they sat—a trio of hearts, bound by love, watching the stars emerge one by one. The waves whispered secrets, and the moon painted silver trails on the water. Amira slept, her dreams filled with sunflowers and seashells.

As the night deepened, Max and Kelly held hands, their love a constellation in the vastness of the universe. They knew that tomorrow would bring new tides, but tonight—the beach, the music, and the magic—belonged to them.

And so, they stayed, under the star-studded sky, doting on Amira, their love story etched in the sands of time.

#formula 1 #baby!sainz!sister #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen x kelly piquet x reader #max verstappen x reader #kelly piquet x reader #amira sainz

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awakentrashpanda · 1 year ago

Text

Smiling Critters incorrect quotes

Dogday: What is the code etomologists use for "I stepped on it, I'm so sorry, it was dark out and the specimen was very small?"

Bubba Bubbaphant: "Impromptu dissection was performed under less-than-optimal lighting conditions."

Catnap: "Impromptu dissection" is an alarming phrase in any context and I thank you for it.

KickinChickin: What’s biologist for "the little f⭐️cker BIT me and I yote it into the undergrowth on reflex?"

Bubba Bubbaphant: "The specimen was removed from the study pool due to abnormal interaction responses."

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

Hoppy Hopscotch: You look like a corpse that was just pulled out of the river.  KickinChickin: Wrong. I look like a cool rock star who just OD'd in their own pool. Big difference.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Hoppy Hopscotch: Nothing in life is free.  Bobby Bearhug: Love is free.  Bubba Bubbaphant: Knowledge is free.  Craftycorn: Friendship is free.  Dogday: Self-respect is free.  KickinChickin: Everything's free if you don't pay for it.  The Squad: ...  PickyPiggy: Kickin, that's illegal-  Hoppy Hopscotch: No, let him finish!

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

Bubba Bubbaphant: Are you tall enough to play basketball though?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Are you calling me short?  Bubba Bubbaphant: I'm calling you vertically challenged.

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

KickinChickin: You have Crayons?  Craftycorn: Yes, I have—  KickinChickin: You're— how old are you?  Craftycorn (in tears): YES I AM AN ADULT AND I HAVE CRAYONS, I HAVE A BOX OF EMERGENCY CRAYONS IN THE CABINET UNDER THE TV BECAUSE EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS SOMETIMES, OKAY? EVERYBODY NEEDS CRAYONS.

🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨🎨

PickyPiggy: *standing at the top of the stairs* What are y'all doing at the bottom of the staircase?  Catnap: I accidentally fell down.  Bubba Bubbaphant: CATNAP PUSHED ME down the stairs because I refuse to pay HIS part of our rent!  Dogday: Catnap bet me fifty bucks that I couldn't reach the bottom of the stairs faster than they did falling down it, so I slide down the banister to get my money.  KickinChickin: I don't know how I got here. One moment, I was sleeping in my bed, three floors up, and then suddenly I was waking up here, just in time to get crushed by Dogday.

💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡💡

Dogday: I love you.  Catnap: How many people have you said that to?  Dogday: Everyone.  Catnap: What?  Dogday: I told everyone that I love you.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Craftycorn: Why does Picky always do the laundry so loudly?  Bobby Bearhug: So everyone knows that no one helps her out in the house.  PickyPiggy, in the distance: *slams the washing machine shut*

🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎🍎

PickyPiggy: So Hunny-bunny, how did your first time cooking dinner go?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Pretty good if I do say so myself.  PickyPiggy: Oo! Okay, what are we having?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Alright, so for appetizers, we have a potato.  PickyPiggy: A whole potato?  Hoppy Hopscotch: Yes. And then for the main course, we have grilled cheese sandwiches!  PickyPiggy: These just look like big slabs of black.  Hoppy Hopscotch: Because that's what they are!  Hoppy Hopscotch: And then for desert, we have chocolate.  PickyPiggy: These are just chocolate chips?  Hoppy Hopscotch: They sure are!  Hoppy Hopscotch: And then for drinks, we have toast!  Hoppy Hopscotch: *lifts up a glass of blended toast* Bon appetite!

🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻🐻

KickinChickin: I have a plan.

PickyPiggy: Good! As long as we aren’t breaking the law again, I’m open to hearing it.

KickinChickin: …

PickyPiggy: …

KickinChickin: I no longer have a plan.

🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶🐶

PickyPiggy: why can’t any of y’all ever come up with a plan that doesn’t involve breaking the law?

Bubba Bubbaphant (awkwardly looking over at KickinChickin and Hoppy Hopscotch): Picky…You do realize that three of us have been to prison before, right?

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KickinChickin: Have I ever told you that I love you like the mom I never had?  PickyPiggy: For the love of all that is holy, I am not taking you to McDonalds. It’s 2am!  KickinChickin: Mean.

🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰🐰

Hoppy Hopscotch: I'm sorry. Please talk to me.  PickyPiggy:  Hoppy Hopscotch: Hello? World's most amazing person?? Sweet pea? Precious cinnamon roll that's too good for this world, too pure?  PickyPiggy: Hmf! 'Sorry' ain’t never gonna bring back my f🍎cking M&Ms.

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Bubba Bubbaphant: What do we think of Dogday?  *pause*  Hoppy Hopscotch: *shrugs* Nice pal.  Bobby Bearhug: I think he’s gay.

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KickinChickin: That was so hot, Bubba.  Bubba Bubbaphant: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenterate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets.  KickinChickin: I'm so in love with you.

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KickinChickin: Now, if I may speak for good-looking people everywhere...  Catnap: Only as their rodeo clown.

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339 notes · View notes

knightoflove · 11 months ago

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The hidden veggie Mac n cheese did indeed work for the picky child (me)

Me: *looks up recipes for meals with hidden veggies*

The video: this recipe is PERFECT for your Picky Child!!

Me: Ah, yes, my picky child…

#trist.txt #it actually fucks #so good #I should’ve blended the veggies a bit more but it’s great #it’s blended butternut squash carrots and cauliflower #pour into a roux (butter. flour. milk.)#and then I KID YOU NOT it’s 14 oz of shredded cheese which is like two blocks #its also three cups of the cooked veggies #and its over four servings #so it’s like 3.75 oz of cheese and a lil less than a cup of veggies per portion #and it’s delicious #I ate that shit up!!!

8 notes · View notes

whitedarkmoonflower · 11 months ago

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Feeling you 3

Pairing: Sihtric x reader (female)

Authors note: this is the last part and as I already wrote it got unexpectedly long, but I'm posting it as it is just as you voted. I really got so caugh up in this story 😅 I hope you'll enjoy it as much I enjoyed writing it

Warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT 18+

Word Count: 7,5 K

Part 1, Part 2

Tags: @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @hb8301 @zillahvathek @alexagirlie @gemini-mama @verenahx @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @willowbrookesblog @thenameswinter99 @ellabellabus07 @mcbuckyyyy @kirtseinw

If you want to be added to the tag list - write to me.

You woke up with a throbbing headache, having struggled to find sleep until the early hours. The walls of the old house seemed as thin as parchment. Every sound penetrated your room – the laughter, the chatter, the clinking of mugs, and the crackling of the fireplace, all blending into a cacophony that grated your weary senses.

But it was the faint noises from the floor above that truly disrupted your rest, igniting your imagination. You briefly wondered if Eanflaed had deliberately placed your bed right beneath the room where Sihtric and Ealfwin spent the night. The thought was quickly dismissed, but couldn't you hear his voice through the thin ceiling? The blurred sounds of the muffled moans and passionate groans seemed to reach you even as you tried to block them out, covering your ears with your hands and burying your head under the pillow. It was almost dawn when your exhausted mind finally succumbed to a restless sleep, only to be woken soon after by the bustling sounds of morning chores.

"You've certainly looked better," Eanflaed remarked as she noticed you stepping into the main room, wincing when the bright daylight hit your red and swollen eyes.

"By the saints, I'd almost forgotten how thin these walls are," you grumbled, sinking into a seat and propping your aching head up with your hands. "I've ruined everything, have I not?" You added after a pause.

"Hold on, don't lose hope so quickly. Regarding Sigefried - you haven't acted in a manner unbecoming of a modest maiden. It was he who overstepped. If you wish, I can speak with him. But the real question is, do you truly want that?" Eanflaed said, a chuckle in her voice as she placed a plate of bread and cheese before you.

Her offer didn't surprise you. This was typical of Eanflaed, always resilient. Despite the hardships life had thrown at her, including losing her husband and being left to raise three young children while running an alehouse, she never faltered. Her approach was always pragmatic and thoughtful. She had a unique ability to balance her steadfast resilience with a protective nature towards her friends and the girls at the alehouse. They were like family to her, each deserving of her unwavering support.

But as much as you wished Eanflaed could solve this problem for you, you realised it was something you needed to address yourself.

"You are right, but I need to handle this myself. I have to speak with him," you said, nibbling on a piece of bread, lost in thought.

"Are you certain this is what you want?" Eanflaed's question caught you off guard, and you looked up to meet her probing eyes.

"Of course, I want it," you asserted, a hint of frustration in your tone. "I turned away a good man for... for a fleeting dream, for... nothing."

"Listen," Eanflaed said, sitting beside you and taking your hands in hers. "Who are you trying to convince? I've known you long enough. This isn't you. I know you're hurting now, but think carefully. If you accept Sigefried's proposal, it's a lifelong commitment. Don't make this choice out of hurt. You won't be able to bear it; your heart isn't made for such compromise, and I say that as a compliment.”

You gazed at Eanflaed in astonishment, trying to comprehend her words. The usually rational and sensible Eanflaed, who had often chided you for impulsively following your heart, was now advising you to reconsider what seemed like the most reasonable decision you had ever made.

It had been foolish to reject Sigefried. You had allowed yourself to be swept away by fleeting emotions and silly dreams, ignoring the stability and future that Sigefried offered. The thought of what you had almost thrown away for someone who didn’t even acknowledge your existence left a bitter taste in your mouth. It was time to face reality, and though the prospect of apologising to Sigefried was daunting, it was an unavoidable step unless you wanted to spend your life scrubbing mugs in the alehouse. If your fate was to be a whore in the disguise of a wife, you were ready to embrace it. At least you’ll be a modest and well-fed one.

With a gentle but firm motion, you freed your hands from Eanflaed’s hold and stood up from the table. “There's nothing left to think about. I had the whole night for that. I’ve made my decision.”

—--------------------------------------------------

"Look what I've got," Ealfwin announced, descending the stairs with a satisfied smile on her lips and dropping two golden rings onto the counter. Her smile widened as she watched them roll and clink across the wooden surface. Eanflaed's eyes widened in surprise.

"It was the strangest night of my life," Ealfwin laughed.

"What happened? It was that young Dane who took you upstairs, wasn't it? What did he want?" Eanflaed asked, her brow furrowed with concern.

"Oh, don't worry, it wasn't anything bad. He was so passionate, kissing me like a desperate starving man, right here at the table. But when we got upstairs and I started to undress, he suddenly told me he wasn't in the mood," Ealfwin explained, shrugging. "I was about to leave, but then he took off two of his rings and asked me to have a drink with him and stay the night. He said he didn't want to be alone."

"And then what happened?" Eanflaed probed, her curiosity evident.

"We just drank and talked. About life, the alehouse, all sorts of things. Then he asked for another pitcher of ale and told me to go to bed. I couldn't turn down such a generous offer. Just look at these rings – they're solid gold, and look at how thick they are."

"Yes, the rings are impressive. But what was he doing all this time?" Eanflaed inquired further.

"He just sat there, drinking. And this might sound odd," Ealfwin paused, licking her lips nervously before continuing, "but if I didn't know he was a Dane and one of Uhtred's fiercest warriors, I'd think he was crying."

"Crying?" Eanflaed's tone was filled with disbelief.

"Yes, crying. It was late already when I woke up to some odd noises, and there he was, still at the table, his head in his hands, his shoulders shaking as if he were sobbing," Ealfwin's voice dropped to a hushed tone, and she glanced around cautiously, as though worried about being overheard. "It must have been something else, perhaps I was still half-asleep. He's a Dane, after all, and just yesterday I heard Uhtred praising his prowess in battle. Such men don't cry, do they?"

"No, they usually don't," Eanflaed agreed, though her response came with a hint of hesitation as she slowly shook her head, seemingly lost in thought.

"Yeah, and by the time I woke up this morning, he was already gone," Ealfwin concluded, her gaze still fixed on the two gleaming gold rings resting on the counter. "I really need a new dress; this one's seen better days."

Eanflaed picked up the rings and slipped them into a small pouch at her waist. "I'll get these exchanged for money. Last night was really a good one. We should now have enough to restock for the winter, and I'm sure we can manage a few new dresses as well."

—-----------------------------------------------

"It's a bit early, isn't it?" Eanflaed chuckled, glancing towards the door as it creaked open. It was still morning, edging towards noon, and she had only just finished cleaning the main room.

"I'm here to talk to Y/N, to offer congratulations on the engagement," slurred the young man leaning heavily against the door frame. Clearly drunk, he staggered towards Eanflaed and grabbed hold of the counter for support.

"What in the world?" Eanflaed blurted out, her stern gaze and furrowed brows fixed on the intruder. Her sharp retort was cut short as she recognized the young Dane from Uhtred’s company.

"Oh, I forgot to bring flowers. Isn't it customary to bring flowers for such occasions?" he mumbled, hiccupping, his clouded mismatched eyes boldly meeting Eanflaed's.

"What are you doing here?" Eanflaed demanded, eyeing him critically from head to toe.

Sihtric felt a sobering jolt from Eanflaed’s tone. Despite his drunken state, a wave of embarrassment washed over him. What was he doing here, indeed? He wasn't even sure how he had managed to find his way here in his current condition.

Compelled by the fear of encountering you again, he had stealthily slipped away under the cover of night, heading to the inn where Uhtred had secured rooms for them. There, he had joined the few remaining guests in their drinking. The ale had bolstered his courage, fueling his burning need for answers, and his legs had unwittingly led him here.

That brief moment the previous evening, when your eyes had met his, had unsettled him deeply. The surprise and pain etched on your face as you looked at him had caused him to nearly stumble and drop the girl he was holding. Why had you looked at him that way? Weren't you supposed to be happy and content, ready to start your new life without any place for his unrequited affection?

"I'm not sure," he mumbled, his momentary boldness fading into abashment.

"After what you did yesterday, you have the nerve to come here asking for her? You... you drunken fool," Eanflaed said, her voice rising in anger as she dropped the rag she was using to clean the counter. She advanced towards Sihtric, her smaller stature no match for her palpable fury. Sihtric instinctively began to retreat until he backed into a bench and clumsily sat down, trying to avoid tumbling over it, his warrior’s poise nowhere to be seen under Eanflaed’s fiery gaze.

"I don't know what tales you spun before leaving, but she waited for you all these long months. And just yesterday, she rejected a marriage proposal because of you. Do you grasp that, you fucking fool? She rejected Sigefried and ran off just to see you parade off with Ealfwin, ignoring her as if she were a complete stranger. And now you want to talk to her?" Eanflaed hurled her words at Sihtric with the force of thrown stones, growing louder as she jabbed her finger into Sihtric's chest.

"She did what?" Sihtric's eyes widened in shock, his mouth agape as he stared at the angry small woman before him. Her words had sobered him like a bucket of cold water on his head and in that moment Sihtric wished for nothing more than for the earth to open up and swallow him whole. "By the gods, what a fool I am," he groaned, burying his face in his hands.

"Leave now, or I'll call the town guards, and you can sober up in the sheriff's cell," Eanflaed threatened.

"Wait, please, let me explain," Sihtric pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation.

"I don’t want your excuses. Just leave! I won’t let you disrupt her life again. She might be reconciling with Sigefried as we speak..."

"I saw them! Yesterday, before coming here. I witnessed the proposal," Sihtric interjected, his voice rising in frustration. "I love her, I came back for her but I thought I stood no chance against him. I wanted to spare her the burden of remembering me. I never imagined she might still care."

"Oh, boy," Eanflaed sighed, her anger subsiding as she slumped onto the bench beside Sihtric. "That explains Ealfwin's odd night with you."

"What should I do?" There was such a despair in Sihtric’s voice that Eanflaed unwillingly felt sympathy with the boy. “Where is she? Please, I need to see her,” he pleaded.

"She's gone to speak with Sigefried," Eanflaed replied reluctantly, watching Sihtric's shoulders slump in defeat. After a moment, she added, "I’ll tell her you were here asking for her. But that’s all I’ll do. It’s up to her whether she wants to see you or not."

"Please, tell her I'll be at the White Goose inn, upstairs, last room on the left. I'll wait for her," Sihtric said, a hint of hope flickering in his voice.

—--------------------------------------------------

"I was afraid you wouldn't come," Sihtric said, taking a hesitant step back to let you into the room. A timid smile touched his lips. As you stepped inside, removing the hood of your cloak, your eyes took in the modest yet orderly room. Sihtric shut the door and faced you, his fingers nervously running through his hair while his gaze fell to his feet. "I... I..." he faltered.

"I honestly don't know why I'm here," you admitted, surprised at the calmness of your voice despite your heart pounding wildly in your chest. What were you doing here? You hadn't intended to come. When Eanflaed had conveyed to you Sihtric’s message, you knew instantly it wasn't a good idea, you knew it was only going to hurt and you had decided against it.

It's no use crying over spilled milk, you had told yourself as you headed towards the small street leading to your home. You rented a tiny attic room in an old, crooked house, owned by a landlady as aged and bent as the building itself. Evening was drawing near, and after last sleepless night, you longed for some rest before tomorrow.

Tomorrow. The word struck you like a bolt, a piercing realisation. Tomorrow was your wedding day. The cool autumn air filled your lungs, each season with its unique aroma, but autumn's – with its scents of rain, fallen leaves, and chimney smoke – was your favourite.

Faint, hazy memories of a warm fireplace in a spacious room and the comforting chatter of gathered people lingered at the edge of your consciousness, as you slowly wandered along the empty and quiet streets of the drowsy town. Your yearning for sleep had slowly vanished. Tonight, nobody awaited you at home, a fact that would change tomorrow. Everything would be different then. But for now, the night was yours – the last night of freedom, the last night you could choose to do whatever you wished. Slowly lifting your eyes, you found yourself staring in surprise at the sign of the White Goose inn, gently swaying in the breeze above.

You were unsure how you found yourself there, but there you were, almost dreamlike, extending your hand to push open the large wooden doors leading to the noisy, crowded main room. Pulling your cape further over your head, you moved unnoticed through the busy, half-drunk crowd, heading straight for the stairs.

“Last room on the left,” you murmured to yourself, repeating Eanflaed’s words. Your footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, resonating through you like a bizarre war drum. “What am I doing here?” you questioned yourself yet again, halting before the door. Nonetheless, your hand seemed to move on its own, lifted as if by an unseen force, and three loud knocks rang out.

You gasped in surprise as the door swung open almost instantly, cutting off the sound of your last knock. You were met by the deep, slightly startled gaze of two mismatched eyes.

Sihtric’s voice was as soft and melodic as you remembered. “At least that hasn’t changed,” you thought fleetingly, as you stepped inside, only for the sound of the door closing behind you, sharp like the snap of a trap, to jolt you back to the reality, the sheer absurdity of the situation you had just brought yourself into washing over you like a rainstorm.

“It was a mistake. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have come,” you stammered, trying to edge past Sihtric in a quick movement back toward the door.

He hadn’t expected this. After spending hours and hours pacing his small room, he had finally lost all hope of you showing up. Muffled curses and groans kept rolling over his lips as the shadows lengthened with the setting sun, his arms alternating between clasping his head and hanging listlessly at his sides, his fists clenching and unclenching, fingers raking through his hair or covering his face in frustration. The knock had taken him by surprise, standing by the door, rhythmically bumping his head against the wall, his elbows propped against it, fingers interlocked behind his head.

He had yanked the door open, fueled by frustration, only to be completely caught off guard by the sight of you standing there, your hand still raised from the last knock. Fighting the impulse to pinch himself, to verify that he wasn't dreaming, Sihtric watched you hesitantly stepping into the room. His gaze fell to the floor, while his mind scrambled for something coherent to say. Throughout the long hours of waiting, he had rehearsed this moment in his mind countless times, imagining all the things he wanted to say, just to find his mind empty as a blank sheet of parchment.

His gaze still fixed on his feet, Sihtric almost didn't notice your sudden dash for the door. You were close to escaping, your hand nearly grasping the handle, when he realised your intent to flee and instinctively reached out, catching your arm and turning you around. You attempted to pull away, struggling to free yourself from his grip, but in the rush, Sihtric made another step toward you, and suddenly, you found yourself pressed against the door, his towering figure looming over you.

“Please, don’t go,” Sihtric’s voice was deep and hoarse, a noticeable tremor running through it. His eyes finally met yours as he placed his hands on your shoulders, immediately feeling you tense up, panic and fear evident in your wide-open eyes. It was a look he recognized all too well, one he had seen too often, but never expected to be directed at him. Yet, there you were, staring back with a deepening darkness in your eyes and quickening breath.

"I’m sorry," he quickly stepped back, letting go of you and raising his hands as if in surrender. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m so sorry. I…I’m getting this all wrong, aren't I? Please, just don't go yet. Give me a moment," the pleading tone in his voice washed over you, but amidst your rising anxiety, you barely absorbed his words.

Averting your gaze and driven by instinctive fear, you reached behind your back, your hand frantically searching for the life-saving door handle. Your fingers finally found it, gripping it tightly, poised to push it down and open your path to escape as you looked back up at Sihtric and froze, surprised by the lost, sorrowful expression on his face, his large, expressive eyes shining with warm tenderness. There he was, the same insecure, alarmed boy, who had so trustfully followed you, squeezing your hand in his sweaty palm, his anxiety barely concealed.

"I won't hold you back. If you want to leave, you can," he stated, stepping further back, giving you ample space, as if to emphasise the truth in his words. His gaze remained intently on you, earnest and unwavering. "You are safe with me. I'll never hurt you, you know that? Never."

Your expression softened, and the fear in you slowly ebbed away. You let your arms fall to your sides, though your chest continued to rise and fall quickly as you took deep breaths, trying to calm your racing heart. Time seemed to stretch out, the two of you locked in a silent gaze, the air around you thick with unspoken words and anticipation.

"What do you want from me?" you found the courage to break the silence.

"I missed you," came Sihtric’s immediate response. "Every single day since I left, you’ve been on my mind. I couldn't escape the thought of you."

"Then why…" you began, but Sihtric quickly cut you off.

"I saw you with Sigefried," he blurted out, his voice unsteady. "I heard his proposal, and then I saw him kiss you…" His voice faltered and broke, pausing for a moment to gather himself. "I... I had brought you flowers, and there he was, offering you a home, a future. I... I didn’t know what to do... I…" He stumbled over his words, his voice trailing off, as he struggled to continue.

"You brought me flowers?" you asked, a quiver in your voice, recalling your surprise this morning when you had seen the delicate blooms crushed in the dirt outside the alehouse. A sudden moisture gathered in the corners of your eyes, and it took all your willpower to hold back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"Is what Eanflaed said true?" Sihtric's gaze dropped to the floor, and even in the dimming light of the setting sun, you could see his cheeks redden. "She said you waited for me, that you turned him down because of me. Is that true?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

Words seemed to lodge in your throat, making it difficult to speak. "Yes, I did," you finally managed, your voice emerging faintly. "But it doesn’t matter now. I accepted Sigefried’s proposal this morning. We’re getting married tomorrow after the morning sermon."

"What? Why?" Sihtric exclaimed, lifting his head, a look of pain crossing his face.

You gazed at him, a sad smile tugging at your lips, still leaning against the door. You wondered if he really expected an answer. He looked striking in the fading sunlight, the sharp contours of his face thrown into relief by the encroaching shadows, his beautiful, captivating eyes locking with yours, making it impossible to look away. A silent curse escaped your lips, your hands slowly balling into fists as you fought to regulate your increasingly shallow breathing. Your cheeks warmed under Sihtric’s intense gaze, a familiar heat spreading from your stomach through your veins, tingling every cell in your body, clouding your thoughts.

There was a part of you that knew there was nothing more to be said, it was time to leave, a distant voice in your consciousness urged you to go. Instead you straightened up, stepping away from the door, and hesitantly moved towards Sihtric. With each step, the distance between you lessened until you were standing right in front of him. Your hand trembled as you reached up, gently cradling his cheek, your thumb lightly tracing his lower lip.

"Thank you for the flowers," you whispered softly.

"But, I didn’t..." Sihtric began in a hushed tone.

"You are the first one," you gently cut him off, a tender yet sad smile on your lips, "The only one who ever thought to bring me flowers."

Closing his eyes, Sihtric leaned into your touch, his hand coming up to cover yours, pressing it more firmly against his cheek, a deep sigh escaping him. In that moment, he seemed to straddle the line between boyhood and manhood, like a young soul yearning for love and affection, yet hesitant to fully express it for fear of exposing his innate kindness as a vulnerability.

"I… I shouldn’t be here..." you stammered, your resolve wavering.

"Stay… please, stay with me," Sihtric's plea was soft, his other hand gently cupping your cheek, drawing you closer. He leaned in slowly, deliberately, giving you the chance to pull away if you wished.

You wanted to turn away, to step back and withdraw. It wasn't Sihtric's hold that restrained you – his touch was so featherlight and delicate that you could have easily slipped away at any moment. It was your own body that betrayed you, refusing to comply. With your eyes closed, you felt Sihtric’s lips tentatively meet yours, grazing them in an almost imperceptible touch, his breath warm and trembling against your skin.

“I can’t,” you murmured softly against his lips, but the involuntary whimper that followed told a different story. Despite your words, your hands seemed to act of their own accord, as they found their way to Sihtric’s neck, then upwards, weaving into his hair. The fervour with which you responded to his kiss, parting your lips in an eager, almost desperate need to taste him, betrayed the falsehood in your words.

Emboldened by your response, Sihtric deepened the kiss. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you firmly against his chest. And this time he knew exactly what he was doing, his movements were assured, his lips moving over yours with purpose. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, teasing and exploring, savouring the moment.

Your senses reeled. The sensation of Sihtric’s lips pressed against yours, his tongue entwining with yours, the mingling of your breaths, ignited a fire within you that you could no longer contain or deny. You kissed him back passionately, desperately, matching the intensity of his own need.

Sihtric let out a soft moan as you gently bit his lower lip, stirring sweet memories of your first time together. His hands cradled your face, drawing you closer to his eager yet tender lips. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow and quick, and you felt utterly swamped by the intoxicating depth of his kiss, wishing this moment would last forever, that his lips would never part from yours, his hands never release you.

Your fingers began to fumble with the laces of his armour, impatient and desirous they tugged at the fastenings and Sihtric helped you to free him from the layers of the thick leather that kept your heated bodies apart.

"May I?" he asked, his hands hovering over the laces of your dress. You smiled, recalling how you had once asked him the same question.

"Yes, please," you responded, your voice quivering with anticipation. You held your breath as Sihtric's rough fingers began to undo your simple dress, first brushing it off your shoulders, then tracing kisses down your neck to your collarbone. With a firm tug, the dress fell to your feet, eliciting a sharp exhale from Sihtric that made you blush.

Sihtric's palms cupped your face again, and he pressed his forehead against yours. "Do you want me?" he whispered, his voice husky and slightly hoarse, his breath unsteady.

"Yyyes, I do," you whispered back. That was the undeniable truth, the sole clear thought in your mind. You wanted him, needed him, like a budding flower needs the rain. Yes, tomorrow everything would change, everything would be different. Tomorrow you would be married, embarking on a new life, but tonight, you were here and you were his and only his.

The soft moan that escaped Sihtric as he claimed your lips again in a gentle yet urgent kiss sent a flutter through you. Sihtric continued to cover your face with soft kisses, starting from your forehead, then moving to your cheeks, and finally trailing down to your jawline. His large hands settled on your hips, pressing you firmly against his pelvis as his hips gently rocked against yours, letting you feel his fully hard cock. “Do you want all of me?” he asked again.

Throughout your life, you had encountered many men, but none had ever made you feel as desired, cherished, and loved as Sihtric did at this moment. And never had you yearned for someone as intensely as you yearned for him now. It wasn't just lust or affection for this young man clouding your thoughts; it was something deeper, a profound and new sensation unfurling within you, so intense it was almost frightening.

“Please, say it. I need to hear it,” he urged, his voice strained between heavy breaths.

“I do, I want you, all of you, every part of you,” you moaned hungrily, your by now completely soaked pussy throbbing for him as your fingers went down to the laces of his breeches, unfastening them quickly, slipping inside and wrapping around his hard length, giving it a needy stroke.

Sihtric groaned, his hands quickly gathering your undergarments, pushing them up your hips and smoothly lifting them over your head in one fluid motion. His arms immediately wrapped around your shoulders again, pulling you close to his bare chest. The warmth of his body enveloped you, seeping into your skin as his mouth traced a path from your jaw down to your neck, leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses and gently nipping at your skin. A loud whine escaped you, your skin tingling under the heat of his touch.

Sihtric placed his hands under your thighs, lifting you up effortlessly as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You pressed against his broad chest, your arms encircling his neck, marvelling at his strength. He carried you easily, without any sign of strain, and gently laid you down on his bed.

You quickly scrambled up to your knees and reached for his waist, pulling down his breeches and freeing his fully hard cock. You licked your lips as you wrapped your hand around it, giving it a slow stroke and moving your head closer to his dripping tip. Sihtric’s head snapped back as he groaned loudly at your touch, but his hand firmly took hold of your chin, stopping you.

“This time it’s my turn,” he said firmly, his eyes looking down at you dark with lust. “Let me make you feel good,” he murmured, gently pushing you back on the bed, moving his body over you and settling between your legs as he started placing soft kisses down your neck.

He paused at your breasts, suckling slightly at your hard nipples, before going further down, each sloppy open mouthed kiss making you writhe beneath him. Muffled whines rolled over your lips as he continued kissing his way down to your belly, until he reached your pulsing core and the first lap of his tongue over your folds made you arch your back and dig your nails into the mattress, a heavy moan escaping you.

“Oh God, it feels so good,” you whined, and Sihtric let out a satisfied groan, his hot breath tickling you and making the pleasure even more intense. His hands were on your hips, keeping you firmly in place, as he sucked hard at your clit and circled it with his tongue. You felt your climax building up quickly, each lap of his tongue bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. You whined and whimpered, rocking your hips against him, mewling his name and begging him not to stop and the moment he pushed his tongue inside you, you felt a hot wave of pure bliss washing over you. Everything around you faded away, consumed by the inferno of ecstasy running through your veins and burning everything in its path, erasing all your doubts and possible regrets.

Sihtric let you savour your high, his tongue gently lapping over your clit, waiting until your body stopped shaking. "Was I good?" he asked, as he moved back on top of you, a slightly sheepish look on his face paired with a mischievous, boyish glint in his eyes, clearly seeking praise and affirmation.

"Holy shit, you were sinfully good," you exclaimed, laughter bubbling up as you were taken aback by the profanity of your own words. You pulled him into your embrace, your legs wrapping around his waist. In that moment, nothing else mattered. All that was important was the soft press of Sihtric’s lips against yours, the comforting weight of his body pinning you to the mattress, and the delightful sensation of his breath tickling your skin.

“I want you, I want to be inside you, to feel you around me,” Sihtric murmured in your ear, breathing heavily, his hard, leaking cock pressing against your core. “Will you have me?”

“Yes, please! I want you. Oh my God, I need you… I need to feel you again,” you moaned, shamelessly rolling your hips up against him. That was all he needed to hear, and in the next instant he was pushing inside you. His hands firmly grasped your wrists, securing your arms above your head, while he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply as if savouring every scent like a dying man cherishing his final breath.

He pushed into you completely until the very end of his shaft, freezing for a moment. “Gods, how good you feel!” Sihtric groaned against your skin, his lips sliding over your neck, nibbling at your sensitive skin. You bucked your hips impatiently, grinding against him, showing him how much you wanted him, how much you needed him and he instantly got you, starting to move, slowly in the beginning, but fastening his pace with each thrust until he was fucking you relentlessly into the mattress, wild growls rolling over his lips.

You met his thrusts with equal eagerness and passion, moving your hips against him, matching his pace. You felt impossibly light, as if soaring, your body seemingly weightless, free from all worries and sorrows. In that moment, there was no past, no future, just the present, blissfully unaware of your surroundings, even the image of the impending wedding had left you as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure surging within you, consuming all your senses.

Your eyes met Sihtric's, and you revelled in the way he gazed at you with such tender fondness, mixed with an unspoken, elusive depth, the softness in his eyes, a trait you never expected to find in a warrior, making your breath hitching in your throat.

You moaned his name, feeling your orgasm approaching, and dug your nails in his back. “Let go, my love,” Sihtric groaned, pounding into you, his eyes never leaving yours. “Let yourself fly. I want you to cum for me. I want to see you falling apart,” he murmured, reaching between your bodies and pushing his fingers at your clit, rubbing it gently.

You gasped loudly at the sudden feeling of exhilaration washing over you and then you were falling or maybe flying, you couldn’t tell, as your back arched against the mattress in the most intense orgasm you had ever had. Your walls clenched around Sihtric’s cock and, watching your face lighten up in pure happiness, he followed you spilling deep inside you with a loud groan.

“You are so beautiful,” Sihtric moaned, crashing against you, and you wrapped your arms around him with a blissful smile gracing your lips.

“Don’t move,” you purred in his ear. “I want to feel you a little bit longer.”

"As long as you want. I don’t want to let go of you, anyway," Sihtric replied with a deep sigh. "I want you to stay here with me. Will you?" The pleading tone of his voice was tinged with uncertainty.

"I will. I'll stay for the night," you whispered, cradling Sihtric’s face in your hands, gazing deeply into his captivating eyes, and sealing your promise with a tender, soft kiss. You held back a sigh that threatened to break free, grateful that the fallen darkness helped you to conceal the tears that shimmered in your eyes from Sihtric’s view.

Sihtric had so much he wanted to tell you. His wish wasn't merely for you to stay the night; he wanted you to stay with him forever. He longed to awaken each morning to your face, to the feeling of your warmth beside him. He told himself there would be time for those words tomorrow, and every day that followed. For now, you were here, with him, and his happiness was too profound for words, his contentment too deep to break the peaceful silence. Gently, he wrapped the blanket around you, just like that first time, and drew you into his embrace. Your back pressed snugly against his chest, your hair spread over the pillow, he inhaled your exhilarating scent and let the comforting fatigue seep into his bones, lulling him into a restful sleep.

—-------------------------------------

Sihtric awoke to a strange sense of emptiness and a chill in the air. Instinctively, he reached out, expecting to find the warmth of your body, but his hand met only the cold, thin air. His eyes fluttered open to a room bathed in the golden hues of sun long risen above the horizon. Your scent lingered, yet you were nowhere to be seen.

Leaping out of bed, Sihtric looked around in confusion.

"Damn it, no... it can’t be. Damn it!" he muttered as he paced the room. "Why? Why is she doing this to me?" he groaned, his hands balling into fists. A wave of despair and a sense of profound failure overwhelmed him. What had he done wrong? Did last night mean nothing to you?

Glancing quickly out the window, Sihtric saw the small town coming to life in the new day's light, and his ears picked up the distant sound of church bells ringing. A painful realisation struck him, and he raked his hands through his hair, cursing softly.

"Fuck, no…" Sihtric exclaimed, scrambling to gather his clothes strewn about the room. Dressing himself hastily, he then stormed out of the room and pounded on the door down the corridor with both fists.

"What's going on? Sihtric, have you lost your mind?" Uhtred's sleepy face appeared in the doorway.

"Lord, I need your permission. I need your permission to marry," Sihtric nearly shouted, and Uhtred's annoyed expression shifted to one of complete amusement.

"You want to marry? Now? Are you drunk?"

"Yes, lord. No, lord. Now, or it will be too late," Sihtric implored, desperation in his voice. "I've been too late twice already. I can’t miss another chance."

"Wait, slow down! Explain what's happening," Uhtred said, fully opening the door and gesturing for Sihtric to come in.

"Lord…" Sihtric began to protest, but a stern look from Uhtred halted him. With a heavy sigh, Sihtric stepped inside.

—------------------------------------------------

"Should anyone here know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace," the priest intoned, and you held your breath in anxious anticipation.

Stealing a glance beneath your lashes, you looked hesitantly at Sigefried beside you. His gaze was locked on the priest, not on you, his fingers tapping against his palm with an air of impatience, as if eager for the ceremony to conclude.

A wave of nausea began to stir in your stomach. Was this the right decision? Was there even such a thing as a right decision? Your feelings for Sihtric were undeniable – profound and inexplicable, intense beyond words. Yet here you were, at the altar.

The hardest part had been slipping away from Sihtric's warm embrace. You had shifted carefully to free yourself from his hold, withdrawing your breath as it seemed you had awakened him. He had moved closer momentarily, his arm tightening around you. You waited, but his steady and rhythmic breathing soon told you he was still asleep.

Finally out of bed, the cool air bit against your naked skin. You quickly picked up your clothes, and dressed. You were already at the door, your hand reaching out for the handle, as you stopped and turned, casting one last look at Sihtric. He appeared so peaceful, content, and serene in the ethereal light of the dawn's first rays, looking so young and innocent, like a prince from a fairy tale. But as much as you wished for it, this fairy tale couldn’t have a happy ending.

You couldn’t stay. Despite the ache in your heart, it was impossible. He was from a different world, he was a stranger, a passer by in your life. The events of the past days had made that painfully evident.

Today he was here with you, but tomorrow he would leave again, bound to follow his lord wherever fate led. What would remain for you? Only waiting. An endless, uncertain wait, shrouded in doubt and suspense, without even knowing its purpose. His absence turning into eternity you would never know whether it was because his gods had called him from this world or because he had chosen to marry and settle down with someone else. And nobody would ever tell you, for you were not a part of his world.

You struggled to contain the tears welling up, but realising there was no one around to witness them, you allowed them to flow freely as you gently closed the door behind you. As much as it tore at your heart, you were grateful to fate for having your paths crossed with this sweet, passionate, and kindhearted young warrior. He had awakened emotions within you that you were certain would stay with you for the rest of your life, giving you warmth and strength to face what you must do.

"Please face each other and join hands," the priest's voice pulled you back from your thoughts, and you turned towards your soon-to-be husband, extending your trembling hands. A shy smile touched your lips, but it failed to reach your eyes, where tears shimmered.

The priest drew breath, and opened his mouth to speak as a loud voice suddenly cut through the air "I object!" echoed through the vast hall and a figure blocked the light streaming through the open doors of the church. You flinched, as if stung, immediately recognizing the voice. Panic welled up inside you as you turned, already knowing who you would see, the voice having been unmistakably familiar.

Why was he doing this? Was it an act of revenge for wounded pride? Was he about to reveal that you had spent the night with him, just to shame you? Could he really be that heartless? Questions fluttered through your mind like alarmed birds as you saw three men, three warriors, stride down the church aisle, stopping just before you.

The priest shifted nervously, his robe rustling in the sudden, uneasy silence. No one spoke. You didn’t dare to lift your gaze, acutely feeling the stares of Sigefried and the few witnesses he had brought, as if they were piercing through you.

"I object," Sihtric repeated, this time more quietly, a strange tremor in his voice.

"What matter do you wish to raise, young man?" the priest inquired, casting nervous glances at the three men, his eyes widening with apprehension upon noticing Thor's hammer around the necks of two of them.

"You can't marry him," Sihtric said, now addressing you directly. His voice was soft, almost imploring, devoid of any malice or anger. Sigefried cleared his throat, seemingly about to interject. He moved a step towards Sihtric, but the firm stares from Uhtred and Finan caused him to reconsider, and he stepped back silently.

"Why?" your question emerged as a faint whisper under your breath as you still didn’t dare to raise your eyes.

"Because I love you," Sihtric's answer struck you like a bolt from the blue.

"You love me?" you echoed, the concept feeling foreign and almost unreal. Love was a notion that had seemed absent from your life. Even recognising the feelings you had for Sihtric you had never dared to call them love. Could it truly have a place now? You lifted your eyes, meeting Sihtric’s earnest gaze.

"I love you and I know that you love me too, even if you try to hide it. Can you deny it?," Sihtric’s voice resonated with unwavering certainty, free of any doubt or hesitation, as he knelt before you, extending his arm towards you. "I may not have much to offer, but I offer you my hand, my heart, and the promise that I will love you until my last breath. Will you marry me?"

You struggled to speak, but a lump in your throat rendered you silent. The church was steeped in a suffocating silence, and you stared down at Sihtric in disbelief. His gaze was steady, his hand outstretched and waiting.

Inside, Sihtric’s heart pounded at an alarming rate. He summoned all his willpower to appear calm and composed, concealing the storm of emotions within, striving to keep his outstretched hand from trembling. As the silence stretched, doubts began to cloud his mind. Had he been mistaken all along? Had he seen only what he longed to see, even if it wasn't true? Was he merely deceived by his own foolish heart, seeking love and acceptance in a place where none existed? His eyes darkened with shades of doubt and disillusion.

“Yes, I will,” your words emerged as a faint whisper, a light breeze carrying the soft clang of your shaking voice, yet he heard them. Those three words seemed to breathe life back into Sihtric, his eyes brightening with hope and happiness.

“Yes, yes! Oh my God, Sihtric, I love you! I will! I will marry you!” You found your voice again, repeating the words, thrilled by their sound. You placed your trembling hand in Sihtric’s, seeking stability as the world seemed to spin around you. In seconds, Sihtric was on his feet, closing the gap between you, wrapping you in his embrace, showering your face with kisses.

“I knew it, I knew you loved me. I saw it in your beautiful eyes. I could feel it, ” he murmured into your ear.

“Hey, priest, snap out of it. We’ve got a wedding to conduct,” Uhtred’s distant voice seemed to come from another realm. You looked up at Sihtric questioningly, only to be met with his reassuring smile.

“I will marry you here before your God, and when we return to Cochem, I’ll marry you again before my gods. Nothing in this world or the next will ever tear us apart.”

#sihtric #sihtric kjartansson #sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #sihtric fic #the last kingdom #tlk #sihtric smut #the last kingdom fanfic

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three--rings · 6 months ago

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Threerings' Dinner Plan

Okay so you've got the average or more than the average amount of stress and limitations to your time and/or ability, but you like to eat good food. And you know you need to both eat healthier and more cheaply (i.e. home cooked food.) What do you do?

Well in the past few months I've kinda perfected a system for low effort cooking of very healthy meals that last for many days of leftovers. None of this is revolutionary or anything or original but IDK it's working really well for me so I'm sharing.

(Also this is for omnivores. Sorry non meat eaters.)

Basically the idea is sheet pan meals. Like I said, not revolutionary. But I've found a system to make it as easy and low-effort as possible.

Step One: Choose your meat and recipe.

So mostly I use chicken for this, because it's cheapest. But if your store is having a great sale on pork or beef, by all means. This last week I did pork tenderloin cause they were super cheap I just searched for a recipe for sheet pan pork tenderloin and adapted it.

But we're gonna assume you're going chicken. So I really only like chicken breasts, but if you like thighs you can use those because it's cheaper. I typically use about 1.75-2lbs of chicken at at time for these recipes.

So what I do is buy the thin sliced chicken breasts from the store. The benefit here is they are already pre-trimmed of all the nasty parts so you're not paying for bits of chicken you don't want and also you don't have to handle and cut the chicken yourself. All I do is open the package and I cut each piece of sliced chicken in half in the middle, horizontally. You don't have to do that, but it makes all the pieces about the same size and it fits better on the tray and then people can take exactly as much meat as they want more easily. (I'm only feeding two adults but it would work well for kids that way.)

Step Two: Veggies

So that's your meat, then you need veggies. I use frozen veggies because they are 1)cheaper and 2)pre-cut. You can pretty much use whatever veggies you like with whatever recipe, but I try to keep it in theme. Like with a Mediterranean dish I did onions and bell peppers and cauliflower. Recently I got a bag of "roasting vegetable blend" that was excellent with brussel sprouts, butternut squash, and onions. Get the higher quality veg like broccoli "florets" cause it's worth a few cents more. You will need/want more veggies than you think, like 20 oz total, you can mix a couple small bags of different ones per tray. And they will shrink a good deal in cooking.

Step Three: Sauce/seasoning.

And then we have seasoning/sauce. This is where I turn to internet recipes for "sheet pan whatever chicken." But I have a few I've used that I've adapted so I'll give them here. Whatever you do, basically you just mix the sauce and pour it over the chicken and/or vegetables and throw it all on a sheet tray and cook it in the oven. (Specifics below.)

Korean Chicken

4 tablespoons dark soy sauce (I've tried both dark works better)

4 tablespoons brown sugar

2 tablespoons neutral oil

1 tablespoon sesame oil

2 teaspoons Sriracha sauce

4 cloves garlic , minced (or ½ teaspoon garlic powder) (I use pre-minced jar garlic for ease)

1 tablespoon gochugaru red pepper flakes (if you don't have these just either use a smaller amount of regular red pepper flakes or just more sriracha. This shouldn't be really HOT, just tangy. )

Do Broccoli and Chicken with this, and mix it all in the sauce. It makes the absolute best broccoli EVER. Like I just want a plate of this broccoli it's so GOOD.

Greek Chicken

2 tbsp olive oil

2 tbsp fresh lemon juice

6 cloves garlic minced

1 tbsp dried oregano

1 tbsp dried parsley

1/2 tsp salt

1/4 tsp black pepper

1/4 cup feta cheese crumbled

(Sub pre-juiced lemon juice and jarred garlic for ease.) Marinate the chicken in the mixture for like 30 minutes first if you have time. Onions, bell peppers and zucchini is good for this. Don't add feta until the last 3 minutes of cooking, sprinkle feta over it and then put it back to get a little melty and browned.

Shawarma Chicken

3 garlic cloves, minced

1 teaspoon ground coriander

1½ teaspoons paprika (may substitute smoked paprika)

2 teaspoons ground cumin

½ teaspoon ground turmeric

1 teaspoon fine salt

¼ teaspoon black pepper

3 tablespoons neutral or olive oil

Juice of ½ lemon

You can again marinate the chicken for a bit if you want. But you don't have to. I recommend cauliflower for this, with whatever else you like. Grape tomatoes are good too. For this one I sprinkled the veggies with curry powder to make sure they got seasoned because there wasn't that much of the marinade.

So for ALL of these the process is this:

Preheat over to 450

Spread the frozen veggies all over a sheet pan (wrap the pan in aluminum foil first for easy clean up.) You can drizzle them with oil, salt and pepper, or a little of the sauce/marinade and toss to cover. Toss the sheet in the oven while it's still preheating. This will get the veggies started and defrosted before you add the chicken so it will all cook together.

Meanwhile get the chicken ready/wait 10-15 minutes for the oven to heat and the veggies to start cooking. (If you're using smaller/more tender veggies you can cut this time. Skip this entirely if you're using fresh.)

Mix your thin sliced chicken pieces with the marinade/sauce. Remove veggies from the oven and push to the sides to make room for your chicken in the middle. You can also simply lay the chicken pieces over veggies if you don't care about the veggies getting carmelized. Arrange your chicken and dump all the sauce. Return to oven.

Cook for about 20-25 minutes. You can check the temp of the chicken with a thermometer, but it's so thin it should be fine. This is why we start the veggies first so they can get mostly cooked and have time to start browning without overcooking chicken.

Remove from oven.

Serve with rice. I have been going the ultra-lazy route of using frozen microwaveable rice, but some of you may have rice cookers.

Congratulations you have a super healthy meal. If you feel crazy you could make a second tray of veggies at the same time and just have less meat with each meal to stretch your $. You could also add beans to your veggies and same.

My husband and I can get dinners for 4-5 days out of one of these meals. But neither of us eats a lot at a sitting, so ymmv on that.

You can also probably see how to adapt this. Find a sauce/marinade recipe, choose veggies and meat, and go! You will have to figure out the cook time for different kinds of meat though.

#recipes #my recipes #easy cooking #think I'm gonna do shawarma chicken this week again #cause that shit was GOOD #need more cauliflower this time #cause my husband stole all of it

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ziggyzolch · 5 months ago

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Your Prettiness is Seeping Through IV (Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

Warnings: Explicit depictions of bulimia. self harm talk. the usual. mommy issues fr. breakdowns, wanda going through it. lotta dialogue this chapter.

Previous Chapter

----------------------------------------------------

----------she looks like the real thing-------------

❅❅❅

Crumbs and dirty plates surrounded you. Sunlight streamed through the large front windows, casting a warm glow on the girl sitting across from you. You don’t quite recognize her, but for some reason you ignore it. She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners, as you finish off the last of your meal.. You dust off your hands, picking up a napkin and wiping sauce off your lips. “You go first, I need to chill for a bit.” The girl across from you groans, placing her hand on her belly. Nodding, you toss the crumpled napkin to the side and stand up.

The air smells of fried food and coffee, an oddly comforting blend that lingers as you weave through the tightly packed tables. Dirty looks are thrown your way while you push past every other customer, but you pay them no mind. The bathroom door, slightly ajar, beckoned you. The door hinges’ squeaking echo throughout the restaurant’s washroom as you enter.

Fluorescent lights buzz overhead, your feet squeaking against the tiled floor as you walk towards the stall closest to you, glancing at the elderly woman at the sinks. Her gaze follows you, curious and slightly disapproving, as you slipped inside the stall and closed the door behind you. You roll your eyes and enter.

It’s none of her business.

Your fingers fumble in your pocket, finding the hair tie and pulling your hair into a tight bun, ensuring no strays would get in the way. Dropping to your knees on the cold, tiled floor, you lean over the toilet. Your stomach felt like it was about to burst.

This was going to be good.

You bring your right hand up to your mouth, taking a deep breath in before shoving two fingers down your throat.

The sound of you coughing and gagging bounce around the room, but nothing comes out.

You take your fingers out, ignoring the saliva dripping onto the floor,

“Fuck, come on.” You mutter.

You try again, going deep enough to feel the ridges of your throat. A little soda comes out, but nothing else.

Tears sprang to your eyes, “No, no, no. Come on, come on!”

You use your arm to wipe your eyes, trying to avoid ruining your mascara, but instead of being greeted by the sight of a disgusting, spit covered toilet, you open your eyes to find you’re back at the same table, with the same girl sitting across from you, as if no time had passed.

You didn’t feel any emptier, but you couldn’t control your hands moving towards the seemingly untouched food. Your body moves on its own accord, devouring the entire three-course meal and quickly standing up, making your way back to the bathroom.

Rushing into the bathroom, you enter the same stall.

You tie up your hair, lean over the toilet, and shove your fingers down your throat.

Nothing.

“Fuck!”

You blink, and the familiar surroundings of the diner reappear. The sensation of being overstuffed returns, more intense than before. The girl across from you smiles, pushing her plate towards you, “I’m full.”

Unable to stop yourself, you reach for the plate and demolish her leftovers. Footsteps behind you catch your attention. “Who’s this for?” The waiter asks, handing you the plate of cheese fries when the girl points at you.

Grabbing the plate, you start eating before it even hits the table, not even bothering to use utensils.

You lick the plate clean, grabbing the cup of iced tea and chugging it down. Just as you’re about to get up for the third time, a sudden wave of tiredness hits you. The girl smiles wider as she watches you flop back down onto your seat, laying your head on the table as your eyes droop.

‘No, get up!’ You think to yourself, ‘Get the fuck up. Go!’

You can’t keep all of that food inside you. Imagining the amount of calories you’re digesting sickens you.

The sounds of the diner fade as you start to drift off.

‘Stay awake, get up and go. Go! Wake up. Wake up, Please just-’

“Wake up!”

You jump up, hands grasping at your chest. The warm atmosphere of the diner is replaced by the harsh, sterile environment of your room. Glancing around, you catch sight of a wide eyed Wanda with her hands on your shoulders.

“Oh, thank god.” You breathe a sigh of relief. It was just a nightmare. You shake her hands off of you and she backs away as you turn to sit up at the edge of the bed. Cheeks reddening, you realize she must’ve seen you thrash around in bed muttering like an insane person.

Wanda picks at her cuticles, standing awkwardly as you stand up, stretching with a groan. “Good morning.” You smile, noticing her eyes flicker to your exposed middle. Quickly, you pull your shirt down, hiding the scars you know she’s staring at.

“Minor surgery,” you lie, turning away before she can ask any more questions.

Two parallel scars adorned each side of your hips, a burn you’d made when you were 16 that never faded. Making designs with your burns added an element of fun to your self-harm. If the light hit your lower abdomen just right, you could see a faded heart you’d burnt into yourself.

Wanda’s eyebrows knit together as she watches you enter the bathroom. She had no idea why you were in here, and any attempt she made to read your mind was met with resistance. The only time she’d ever heard any of your thoughts was the first time she’d seen you.

She caught glimpses of your dream, mostly just you eating at a diner on loop, but nothing past that. Her observations were pretty much useless. Scars were randomly scattered across your left arm, in a way that they could almost pass as accidental, if you overlooked how many there were. They were nothing like her own, all parallel and within the same general area. She figured they must be accidents, since you didn’t make much of an effort to hide them.

Plus, your somewhat sunny disposition makes her hesitant to assume you were here as a result of a failed suicide attempt.

You had tried talking to her several times, each attempt more awkward than the last. She watched you furrow your eyebrows in thought, speak, then sulk when she didn’t offer a response until you thought of something else, repeating the loop. Getting stuck with an overexcited extrovert was the complete opposite of what she expected in a facility like this.

The only suspicious thing she’d caught you doing was when you spent 2 hours on your laptop, watching people eat ungodly amounts of food. That led her to the conclusion that you must have some sort of eating disorder.

Wanda takes a seat at the desk as you exit. She hears you walking around the room, opening random drawers and re-entering the bathroom before walking towards her. “Hey, you haven’t seen a pack of cigarettes lying around here, have you?” You ask with your hands on your hips, twisting your torso to scan the room before making eye contact.

She shakes her head, her lips pressing into a thin line.

“Damn it,” You mutter.

Both of your eyes turn towards the door as Nurse Ezra walks in, “Ah, great, you’re already up. Come get your breakfast,” He turns to walk away before quickly turning back, “Oh, shoot, I need to lock the room behind you guys.”

You and Wanda glance at each other before you ask, “Uh…why?”

He scratches the back of his head, “We lock the doors for 30 minutes after meals. To get you guys to socialize, and to stop,” He makes eye contact with you, “Certain patients from doing something that may affect their…journey.”

Wanda furrows her eyebrows, looking to you for an explanation. You don’t seem to be as confused as her, your face reddening.

Shaking yourself out of your shock, you nod and begin to walk out the room, the witch following after you.

Wanda catches up to you, her voice hesitant. “Hey... Do you know what he meant by that?”

You try not to react to the fact that she was speaking to you, “No idea.”

“Are you sure?”

“I really don’t. Where are you from?”

Wanda raises an eyebrow at the sudden topic change before you continue, “I just noticed you had an accent.”

“Sokovia.” She replies, “Not much of a country anymore, though.”

You scoff, “Don’t say that.”

She shrugs. It had been years since she’d heard any news about Sokovia. Her country had been destroyed by a sentient robot, and she helped. She helped Ultron get access to vibranium, she released the Hulk into the city, and in the end she got Pietro…

Nevermind.

She can’t bring herself to watch the news about Sokovia anymore.

“It was destroyed. Was it not?” She questions as you both take a seat at one of the benches.

“They are rebuilding it.” You rest your chin on your hands,

Wanda’s eyes widened, “Really?”

You lift an eyebrow, a hint of surprise in your voice. “Yeah…Did you not know?”

She shakes her head.

Trays of food being placed in front of you interrupt your conversation. It was split up into 4 sections. The largest, on the bottom right corner, was filled with scrambled eggs and bacon. Hash Browns were on the section to its left, toast and jam on the section above. A single milk carton placed on the last one.

Your stomach grumbles at the sight. The food looked delicious, which you had expected in a place like this, but there’s no way you could let yourself digest it. The more you focus on the meal in front of you, the more you notice the oil dripping off the hashbrowns, the grease gathering under the bacon and eggs, and the calorie label on the carton of milk. You didn’t need to look at the toast to know how many calories were in it, you had it memorized.

You can’t eat this.

Ignoring Wanda’s eyes on you, you open up the carton of milk, pouring it over the whole meal.

“What was that for?” The witch asks, plunging her fragile, plastic fork into the hashbrowns.

You take a spoon and mush the food, mixing the milk into everything you could,

“I don’t eat pork.”

❅❅❅

The common room had been buzzing with excitement since visiting hours arrived. You could see Wanda across the room, sitting on a pristine white couch next to an older redhead, who was wearing a baseball cap indoors. You wondered briefly as to why, but dismissed it; to each their own.

You turn your gaze towards the window, watching the snow fall. Winter had always been your favorite season; it brought on a comforting kind of depression. You could never explain it in a way that made sense, but summer made you feel fat. In the same way keeping your hair curly, breathing heavily, and sweating in any way made you feel fat. You knew it didn’t make any sense, but you couldn’t stand it. The snow was also just nicer than heat to you. It had never snowed where you lived, so even after your second year here, you still got excited to see it.

Someone snapping their fingers in front of your face takes you out of your reverie. “I’m paying attention.” You grumble, bringing your eyes up to meet your mothers’.

She sighs, “How’s this place treating you?”

“It’s fine.”

“Good, good. Let’s hope you don’t gain too much weight.”

You raise an eyebrow, “Are you serious?”

“Baby, you don’t need to gain weight, you just need to stop doing,” She makes random gestures, “Whatever you used to do. You’re fine just like that.”

“Thanks.” You scoff, “ Where’s dad?”

She offers a look of pity, “You know dad, honey, his work keeps him busy.”

“He can’t spare one day to visit-”

“So, any boys catch your eye?” She interrupts.

You bring your hands up to your face, groaning, “Mother, I am in a mental facility.”

She shrugs, “So?”

“Oh my god.” You say, exasperated.

Your mother checks her watch before lightly slapping her hands against her knees and getting up. Eyes widening, you rise to your feet, disbelief clearly written on your face, “You’re leaving already?”

She sighs, “I’m sorry, baby, but I need to get home and make dinner before your father gets home.”

“Can’t he order? Please, just fifteen more minutes-”

“Stay safe, honey, call me if you need anything.”

Wanda watches you chase after your mother, pleading. She doesn’t really get it. The conversation you were having could be heard from where she was sitting, and it didn’t seem like your mother cared enough for you to beg her to stay longer.

“Poor girl. Isn’t she your roommate?” Natasha asks, having watched the scene play out.

The younger woman nods, “Yeah.”

“Is she nice?”

“She’s okay.”

“If she’s a bitch you can tell me. I’ll knock her right out of this place.”

Wanda laughs, “She’s decent, just a little talkative.”

“Good. You need someone like that.”

“What makes you say that?” Wanda picks at the loose threads on her sweater.

“I don’t know,” The widow looks at her hands, “You starve and you don’t talk, you drink and you don’t talk. You never say anything at all.”

Wanda sighs, “I talk.”

“Not about anything substantial. You never told me how much you were struggling.”

“I could handle it.”

“This,” Natasha gestures to the surrounding, “is not the result of ‘handling it.’”

“This,” Wanda mimics her, “is bullshit. I should be at work.”

“So you can freely drink yourself into a coma?” Natasha sighs, “What would Pietro think?”

“Seriously?” Wanda jumps up, “This was a mistake.”

“No wait-” The witch storms off before Natasha can apologize.

Who does she think she is? Pietro’s not here to give her the same bullshit the rest of her friends were giving. He’s not here to reprimand her for all the alcohol she drank, or all the meals she’s missed. He’s not here to help her clean up her room, dress her wounds, comb through her matted hair.

He’s not here.

Wanda doesn’t realize what she’s doing until she feels hands grasping at her wrists, stopping her from banging her fist against her head anymore. When did she reach her room?

“Hey, hey. You’re okay.”

Wanda breaks down as you pull her towards you, lowering yourself onto the floor with her. You'd dropped everything the second you saw her franticly run into the room.

“I can’t stay here.” She chokes out. You move her towards your shoulder, letting her rest her head. “I-I can’t s-stay.”

Shushing her, you gently scratch the back of her head, “You don’t have to talk,” you say softly.

Wanda leans back after a while, sniffling and looking at your shirt, pinching the fabric, “I stained your shirt. I’m sorry.”

You glance down at the wet spot on your shirt and shrug, smiling. “Stain it all you want. This shirt has seen worse,”

The witch smiles before pushing herself off the floor, walking towards the desk and wiping at her eyes with her sleeves, while you stay seated on the floor.

A soft thud echoes throughout the room as something is tossed onto the ground in front of you.

You gasp, “My baby! Where did you find this?” Inspecting the pack, you pull the top open, taking a cigarette and pulling a lighter out of your pocket.

“I found it in the lobby when I first came here. Sorry.”

“I forgive you, thief.”

“Shut up.”

You rise and move to the window, pushing it open with a quiet creak. The frost gathered on the bars slowly melts as you light up your cigarette. The cool air brushes against your face while you take the first drag of the cigarette, the smoke curling around you.

“Cancer’s a slow death.” Wanda says, approaching you.

You offer her a hit. “Everything causes cancer these days.”

She shakes her head, opting to just stand next to you. After a moment of silence, Wanda points at your arm, “How’d you get that?”

She raises a hand when you start to answer, “Let me guess, paintball? Or was it a failed attempt at cooking?”

You laugh, looking down at the circle shaped scar on your arm, “Am I that bad of a liar?”

“You’re quick with the excuses,” she says, a hint of amusement in her voice. “It’s almost impressive.'"

Raising your other hand, you softly rub at the scar, “I was 14 – or 13 – and I bent a big paperclip into a circle, heated it up, then…tss”

Wanda winces, “You branded yourself? Jesus,” she turns her head towards the ground, “You were so young.”

You put out the cigarette, shrugging.

She points to your right arm, at a scar that runs across your bicep, “What about this one?”

“Sport accident.”

The witch raises an eyebrow, “Seriously?”

“Yes! I don’t have the balls to do that on purpose.”

She gives you the benefit of the doubt, moving on, “And that?”

Your eyes widen when she points at the band aid on your head, “Oh. Nothing.”

“Come on-”

“It’s nothing!”

Wanda places her arms up in surrender, “Sorry, sorry.”

She pauses for a moment before continuing, “Y’know, you come off quite cheerful.”

You shrug, “People like me better that way.”

“So? Who cares what people think?” Wanda places her hand on your arm.

You push her hand off, “I do.”

The conversation fizzles as you look away, lighting another cigarette and shivering at a gust of wind. You hear Wanda's footsteps echo throughout the room as she walks away, the bathroom door closing behind her.

You hated people touching you, it's like you could feel all the fat being squished under their hands. Objectively, you knew you weren’t obese, but you were constantly aware of all the fat under your skin.

You were hyper-aware of everything in your body, every change. When your baby fat started to fall off, when the veins in your hands became more prominent, when your hip bones started to stick out. Nothing got past you. You couldn’t let it. Once you start ignoring all the little changes, you’ll start gaining weight, and it’ll take another 3 years to get rid of it again.

Being overly self-aware was a gift as much as it was a curse.

You jump as the silence around you is suddenly broken by Wanda’s hesitant voice, “I’m sorry.”

Catching your breath, you offer Wanda a smile, “None of that. Nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, not just that. For ignoring you when you tried to talk to me.”

You move towards your bed, taking a seat, “You don’t owe me conversation.”

Wanda grins, “You’re so forgiving.”

You lightly punch her shoulder as she plops down next to you. “You’re so apologetic.”

She smooths down the wrinkles on your blanket, “I can’t help it.”

“Neither can I.”

The witch’s eyes widen as Pietro’s face flashes onto yours when you answer. She backs away, harshly rubbing at her eyes.

You sigh as you watch Wanda retreat to her bed, curling up and turning away.

Wanda’s gentle sobs echoed in the room. You watch her back, her shoulders trembling as she cries, waiting for an explanation she would never give. She couldn’t look at you, couldn’t see him.

The room goes silent as Wanda’s sobs quiet, aside from the occasional creak of the floorboards and the faint rustle of the bedding.

You almost say something. Almost reach forward, blurting out words of reassurance that you knew she wouldn’t believe.

Instead, you move back towards the window, lighting your third cigarette of the hour.

❅❅❅

A/N: hello! hope you guys are doing well. this chapter was supposed to come out earlier but i scrapped a rewrote a huge chunk of it.

anyways, i read your comments and they mean so so so much, i appreciate u guys fr. motivates me to write more, im just bad at replying.

any criticisms, advice, opinions or whatevs are welcome and i hope you guys enjoyed the new chapter! <3 <3

Comment to be added to taglist!! or removed or whateva

Tags: @mathxa @nikkinss @charleeeesworld @marvel-posts @fawnedolly @dyingbatbutnobat

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getaandlucius · 12 days ago

Text

A brief taste of honey (emperor Geta love story)

Summary: Former emperor Geta survives but he now falls under Lucius’ regime. Sad from losing his brother and freedom he and Lucius continue forming a bond that starts to grow beyond platonic. You can read this as a stand-alone, or first read the precious parts: part 1 part 2 part 3 Warnings: a little angsty, a little smutty and a little fluffy. Mentioning of nudity and substance abuse. I'd love to hear what you think of it in the comments, and if you want another part! 💐

It was spring.

Geta had now been at court for three weeks. When Lucius had invited him to supper in the main dining hall the previous night, he had accepted. He hadn’t eaten much or spoken often, but the sight of Geta taking small bites of chicken and drinking more water than usual filled Lucius with an unexpected sense of contentment.

After dinner, Geta’s guards escorted him back to his room, immediately dampening the lighter mood that had settled over him. Lucius could see it in his face: Geta hated being confined.

He followed them through the halls, an inexplicable urge to make things right somehow.

“Join me at the spring festivities in Ostia later this week,” Lucius said just as Geta was about to enter. “The governor invited us. It’s a chance to strengthen ties between the cities.”

Geta’s gaze lingered on Lucius for a moment before he gave a brief nod. “Okay.”

Lucius smiled, a little surprised at how easy Geta obliged. This was not only a good thing for the political climate, but it would also be healthy for Geta to start going out in society here and there. Lucius was still unwilling to trust him—or anyone else—completely but there was progress in Geta’s volatile nature. He was however still in danger from the people who had once pledged themselves to Lucius’ grandfather. Their loyalty to the old regime bred a seething hatred for Geta, and their whispers of vengeance were still heared outside of court.

---

A few days later, Lucius prepared for the festivities. He set aside his usual leather attire, opting instead for a richly decorated white tunic. Over it, he wore a thin golden harness, a striking piece that moved with his torso and left his arms bare.

As he arrived in Ostia and entered the main hall, he took in the decorations: ivy draped across pillars, laughter echoing off the walls. It was a rare moment of calm in Rome’s turbulent political landscape. Tensions with Germania had quieted, though challenges still lingered in Britannia and the Parthian Empire. For once, Lucius allowed himself to breathe.

The hall was already filling with Rome’s most powerful leaders, their conversations blending with the clink of wine goblets. It was good that Geta had agreed to come; his presence would feel symbolic, a brief respite of peace before an inevitable storm.

But as Lucius sat down, nibbling on fruit and cheese, the seat beside him remained empty. His eyes scanned the room, searching for the Geta

Instead, a young man in gold chains and a loose pallium slipped into the seat next to him. Lucius frowned, his gaze sweeping over the man’s bare torso adorned with chains. When their eyes met, Lucius’s irritation boiled over. He leaned in toward Geta and hissed, “What on earth are you wearing?”

Geta turned to him with mock disappointment. “You don’t like it?”

Lucius’s voice was sharp. “You’re embarrassing me. What will the governor think?” His eyes searched Geta’s face for any sign of understanding, any acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation, but found none. “You’re dressed like a high-end slave,” Lucius bit out.

The golden chains draped across Geta’s torso were exquisite craftsmanship, but they left most of his skin bare. Lucius’s irritation grew. He wondered when or what had flipped the switch making him wear such a thing.

“And what am I, if not that?” Geta shot back, raising an eyebrow defiantly.

Lucius was taken aback. “I’ve never treated you like one, and you know it.” The sting of Geta’s words hit him hard, especially after the closeness they had shared in the bathhouse.

Geta’s tone turned bitter. “And yet I’m not allowed outside. I’m only invited to these gatherings to be shown off like some olive branch to men I despise—men who have schemed for power over me and my brother." His eyes pierced his. "As have you, come to think of it. I should hate you all the same.”

Lucius swallowed the sharp retort that rose to his lips. Instead, he unfastened the clasps of his golden bodice, which was interwoven with a thin net of armor in case of attack. Beneath it, his white tunic, embroidered with silver thread, clung to his chest, damp from his body-heat.

He pulled the harness over his head and draped it over Geta’s shoulders to hide his provocative outfit from view.

“You do realize those guards are for your protection too, don’t you?” Lucius said bitterly, pushing Geta's arm to the side to refasten the clasps. Their eyes met briefly—just long enough for Lucius to catch a flicker of confusion in Geta’s gaze before it was replaced with feigned carelessness.

Geta patted Lucius’s knee. “Aren’t you honorable,” he said with a sardonic smile, then added; “I don’t buy it, though.”

Lucius’s anger simmered, but he bit his tongue, focusing on refastening the harness. When he was done, Geta turned away and grabbed a cup of wine, draining it in one swift motion.

The meal continued, and entertainment began. Dancers twirled and swayed, their movements hypnotic and sensual. Though the dancers were near-naked, Lucius barely paid attention. His focus kept drifting to Geta, who sat beside him drinking glass after glass of wine. Rosy-cheeked, Geta leaned back against the wall, his mouth slightly parted as he watched the dancers with a look that made Lucius’s stomach tighten.

Lucius became aware of their thighs pressed together, the warmth of Geta’s skin against his own. He was so distracted he startled when the old philosopher next to him tapped his arm.

“Ravi wishes to speak with you, Dominus,” the man said.

Lucius blinked, shaking off his thoughts. “Right. Yes.” He excused himself as he stood up and made his way toward the side entrance where Ravi was waiting, pulling him around the corner.

“What’s wrong?” Lucius asked, noting the concern etched into Ravi’s features.

“There’s been an anonymous warning,” Ravi said, his voice low. “One of the guards reported it—a planned attack.”

“When?”

“This evening.”

“Target?”

“You, Lucius.” Ravi frowned. “Why aren’t you wearing any protection?”

Lucius glanced down at his tunic. “I…. was hot. I took it off.’ He looked toward the dining hall. ‘I’ll get it.”

“No,” Ravi said, gripping his arm. “Stay here with the guards. Where is it?”

Lucius hesitated, then admitted, “Geta’s wearing it.”

If Ravi was judging, he did not show it. He simply nodded and headed off. Lucius lingered in the doorway, watching as Ravi approached Geta. He couldn’t hear their exchange, but he saw Geta’s brow furrow as he was getting up. Moments later, they were both walking toward him, flanked by a guard.

“You need this back, I assume,” Geta said and pointed to his belly, his voice slow from the wine.

Lucius nodded and helped him remove the harness, though Geta’s drunken movements made the process frustratingly slow. He could feel the danger growing, thickening the air. Something was wrong.

“I should say my goodbyes to the governor,” Lucius muttered when he had it back on.

“No time,” Ravi interrupted, urging him forward. “We have to go.”

Lucius glanced back once as they left, unease churning in his gut. As they reached the outside, Lucius rushed toward the horses, but the sounds of running footsteps and shouting froze him in place. He turned to see Laurentius throwing himself to the ground, shielding someone—or something.

“What’s happening?” Lucius yelled, wanting to turn around, but his guards held him back.

“Shooters!” Ravi shouted. “We need to leave, now!”

“Where’s Geta?” Lucius demanded, struggling to break free.

“No time!” Ravi barked. “Get him on my horse!”

Hands seized Lucius, lifting him onto Ravi’s horse. Lucius barely managed to stay upright as Ravi spurred the animal forward.

“Laurentius will take care of him,” Ravi said, as though reading Lucius’s mind.

“He might’ve been shot too!” Lucius snapped.

Ravi didn’t reply, his focus fixed on the road ahead.

The ride back home was a mere thirty mintues and as they reached the gates, Lucius immediately began issuing orders to the local officers to strengthen their defences, his voice sharp and clipped. Before entering the halls, he looked over his shoulder into the dark night, hoping to see the familiar form of Laurentius on his horse. But only blackness stared back. Ravi came to stand next to him in silence for a small while, then took him inside.

The waiting was agony. Lucius strained his ears for any sound, praying for news but the minutes ticked past and nothing.

Finally, two hours later, the gates opened. Lucius rushed through the halls, his heart pounding.

Since when had Geta’s fate become so important to him? He couldn’t remember.

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