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evie-sturns · 21 hours

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boyfriend - Matt Sturniolo

summary: where your boyfriend of 2 years breaks up with you without reason, you go to your comfort place, your best friend matt's house and he does everything he can to calm you down.

contains: fluff, bestfriend!matt, crying, comforting.

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panic flushes over me, my body heats up as my eyes scan over the screen of my phone. i instantly call him, my boyfriend aiden

"are you serious aiden?" i raise my voice as he picks up the phone,

"we're done, i told you." he says blankly with next to no emotion in his voice, hes been my boyfriend for just over 2 years.

he knows the shape of my lips against his,

he knows that i can't sleep by myself,

he knows my family,

he knows my daily routine from the second i wake up to the second my head hits the pillow.

and now he breaks up with me over text.

"why!?" i cry, i hear a subtle scoff from aiden before he hangs up. i instantly start to sob, throwing myself up off my bed and grabbing my keys.

i run downstairs and out the door into the night air, making my way down my driveway towards my cute small car.

i slam the door to my car shut, sinking down into the drivers seat as i check my phone. i've been blocked on almost everything already.

tears soak my cheeks as i let out shaky sobs.

--------

11:49

i knock twice on matt's front door, wearing sweatpants and a small shirt. my shoulders are by my sides, shaking up and down with each panicked cry.

after a couple of seconds the door opens slowly, i'm met with matts face.

he looks down at me, a short gasp escapes his mouth as he looks at the state of me.

he grabs my hand and frantically pulls me inside, "hey- hey whats going on?" matt asks , trying to sound calm.

"matt- matt." i sob, he grabs me and pulls me into a tight up, running his mildly shaking hand up and down my back

"shh.. sh sh." matt attempts to shush me before pulling me down the corridor into his bedroom.

he throws me down onto his matress, instantly chucking a blanket over me and sitting down next to me.

he waits for me to speak, still completely unaware why i showed up to his house in floods of tears at midnight.

"i- aiden broke up.. with- with me" i manage to squeeze out in between shaking breathes.

matt goes silent before pulling me onto his lap, holding me across him. i cry into his shirt

"over text with no reason-!" i continue

matt stays silent, breathing deeply. i copy his breathing pattern "you 'wanna know something?" matt says, i nod

"he's made a big mistake, you're the most lovely girl i know. aiden doesn't know what hes lost because- i know, i know that he will regret letting go of the most gorgeous, sweet girl ever." matt sighs,

"yeah?" he continues, i nod shyly.

he rubs my arm, "you can let it all out okay?" matt says softly, picking me up and standing up out of bed, he pulls back the silky sheets of his bed before placing me.

he lays down next to me, pulling up the blanket over us, i lay my head on his chest.

"he never cared about me matt." i admit "and now half my shit is- its just stuck in his apartment" i sniffle, wiping my nose on his shirt which matt doesn't bat an eye to.

"you know what, i'll go get it now okay? chris can come stay in here while im gone." matt says, heaving himself up of the bed

"matt you don't have to do that- honestly," i protest, matt just shakes his head

"don't worry 'bout it." he says, walking out of the room.

chris walks into the room wearing blue pyjama pants and a loose fit white shirt, he has a concerned expression on his face as he flops down on the bed beside me

"you okay?" he asks, "i don't know- i'll be fine." i reply with a strained voice.

"matt told me what happened, i'm sorry about aiden or whatever the fuck hes called." chris sighs

he wraps an arm around my shoulder and tugs me closer to his side, we lay in a comfortable silence for about 30 minutes before matt comes back

"im sorry i gotta take a shit, thats my fault give me a couple minutes." chris blurts out

"thanks chris." i laugh slightly as he sits up, walking out of the room.

matt comes back in holding 2 bags in his hands, he brings them over to me with a soft smile on his face. he reaches his ringed hand up and scratches the side of his face.

"you didn't have to- how'd it go..?" i say, matt lays back down next to me

"he was screaming at me the whole time, all 'who the fuck are you' but i think he recognised me after a minute of ransacking your room." matt laughs

i shake my head "i'm sorry."

"don't be" matt says,

"try go to sleep now okay?" he says pressing a kiss to my forehead.

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TAGLIST:

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @recklessmatt

#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut

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nerdthatsiriuslylovesteaxx · 3 days

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Liner and Lip gloss

"Pads sit still I'm going to mess up." Remus tried to keep his hand steady

"Alright, sorry, just excited for the ball."

"Who'd ya ask anyways?"

"No one yet."

"Pads the ball is in two hours."

"I'm aware."

"You aren't hot enough to get a girl in two hours."

"Piss off. "

"Don't think I will Siri."

"Oh fuck you."

"What was that? Sorry I couldn't hear you from down there."

"Mangez de la merde et mourez."

"Really? You can't think of a single creative thing to say so you start speaking in French."

"You have to agree it's hot."

"Who's been lying to you?"

"How dare you, anyways I know who I'm asking, just hoping they'll say yes."

"Good luck with that, they probably already have a date you know, most people plan ahead."

"Who are you going with?"

"I'm not going."

"What! Why? Moony please it'll be fun, James and I are pranking all the Slytherins."

"Nope, can't be bothered. Anyways I don't have a date."

"I'm sure plenty of girls would go with you, you're hot."

"Don't want to lie to them."

"You have to like someone, just hope they don't have a date and ask her out."

"Pads... can I tell you something..?"

"Are you alright?"

"I-I'm gay." Sirius pulled him into a hug,

"Thank you for telling me."

"You're not mad...?"

"Why would I be mad Moony?"

"My dad kicked me out when I told him."

"Shit- I'm so sorry."

"He hated me anyways, just the final nail in the coffin. It's fine, I survived, anyways turn around I'm braiding your hair."

"Moons, can you help me ask this person?"

"Are you sure they don't have a date?"

"Certain now,"

"Okay...? How do I help exactly?"

"Say yes."

"Wha-"

"Remus will you go to the ball with me?"

"...no shit Sherlock."

"FINALLY, MERLIN'S BEARD HE HAS BEEN PINING OVER YOU FOR YEARS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND HOW PAINFUL IT'S BEEN TO WATCH BOTH OF YOU ACT SO CLUELESS."

"Prongs, are you okay?"

"Now that I don't have to listen to Sirius planning how to ask you out every single quidditch practice yes."

"It wasn't ev-"

"Yes, yes it was. I have them a written down, extreme detail, with the date because I knew you would say this."

______

A lil wolfstar cuz I've been wanting to write about these two dorks for last three years

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 2 days

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The Finish Line.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

my blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - in honour of the london marathon being held today, and my dad running, enjoy this little blurb.

word count - 1.3k

in which, harrys wife is running the london marathon, having been signed up by her sister in law gemma as a joke and now as she is nearing the finish line, harry is determined to be there to greet her.

2023.

As you sit in your cozy living room on your birthday, your husband Harry by your side and your one-year-old son peacefully asleep on the cushion next to him, you feel content. Gemma, your sister-in-law, suddenly interrupts the tranquil moment with a mischievous grin on her face.

"Happy birthday, sis! I've got another present for you," Gemma announces, holding out an envelope with excitement.

You accept it, exchanging puzzled glances with Harry. "Oh, Gem, you didn't have to get me anything else. You've already spoiled me enough."

Gemma shakes her head, insisting, "Trust me, you're going to love this one. Open it!"

With a mixture of curiosity and apprehension, you tear open the envelope. Your heart skips a beat as you pull out a letter. Your eyes widen in disbelief as you read the words:

"Congratulations! You've been signed up for the 2024 London Marathon."

Your jaw drops, and you stare at Gemma in shock. "What?! Are you serious?!"

Gemma's grin widens. "Absolutely! I know you've been talking about wanting to challenge yourself, and what better way than running a marathon, right?"

You can feel the panic rising within you. "But Gem, I've never even run a half-marathon before! This is insane!"

Harry chuckles, trying to lighten the mood. "Well, looks like you've got some training to do, m’love."

You shake your head, still in denial. "No, no way. I can't do this. I'm not ready for something like that.”

2024.

And now, just under halfway through,just seconds away from reaching mile ten,doubts start creeping in, and your legs feel heavier with each step.

The cheering crowds blend into a blur of noise around you.

Just when you're on the verge of giving up, a familiar voice cuts through the chaos, calling your name.

You glance up and spot Harry and your son standing behind the barricades, their faces lit up with pride and encouragement.

With a surge of determination, you veer towards them, pushing through the throngs of runners, apologising when you get in the way.

When you reach them, you're breathless and exhausted, but seeing their smiling faces fills you with a renewed sense of hope.

"H-Harry," you pant, trying to catch your breath. "I don't think I can do this. It hurts."

Harry wraps his arms around you, offering comfort and support. "Hey, hey, you've got this. You've trained so hard f’this moment. Y’stronger than you think."

Tears well up in your eyes as you lean into his embrace. "But what if I can't finish? What if I let everyone down?"

Harry gently tilts your chin up to meet his gaze. "Listen to me, m’love. You've never been a quitter, and you're not about to start now. Remember why you're doing this – for yourself, for our family, We believe in you, and we'll be right here cheering you on every step of the way."

You glance down at your sleeping son, his innocent face a poignant reminder of the love and support surrounding you.

With a determined nod, you straighten up, wiping away your tears. "Okay, I'll keep going. For us."

Harry flashes you a proud smile, planting a kiss on your forehead. "S’my girl. Now go show 'em what you're made of. We'll be waiting for you at the finish line."

It takes you around another two hours to near the finish line, every step feels like an uphill battle.

Your ankle throbs with each stride, threatening to give out beneath you, and a wave of nausea washes over you. The cheers of the crowd blend into a distant hum as you focus all your energy on putting one foot in front of the other.

Your vision blurs with tears of pain and exhaustion, but you can see the finish line looming ahead like a beacon of hope. With every ounce of determination left in you, you push forward, the crowd's encouragement spurring you on.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, you limp across the finish line. Tears stream down your face as you collapse onto the ground, the rush of emotions overwhelming you. The volunteer at the finish line rushes over, their concern evident as they kneel beside you.

"Hey there, are you alright? Do you need medical attention?" the volunteer asks, their voice filled with genuine concern.

You manage to nod weakly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I-I think so. Just... just give me a moment."

The volunteer nods understandingly, offering you a bottle of water and helping you sit up. "Take your time. You did an amazing job out there. You should be really proud of yourself."

As you cling to the poor volunteer, you turn to the her with a hopeful expression. "Um, excuse me, could you... could you help me over to my husband, please?"

The volunteer nods understandingly, offering you a supportive arm. "Of course, let's get you over there."

With the volunteer's assistance, you limp over to Harry, each step feeling like a small victory. As you draw closer, Harry's eyes light up with relief and love, his arms open wide to welcome you.

"Thank you so much," you murmur to the volunteer, tears still streaming down your face.

She smiles warmly. "It's my pleasure. Congratulations on finishing the marathon. You're an inspiration."

You nod, touched by her words, before turning your attention back to Harry. His eyes are filled with love and pride as he opens his arms to you, and you melt into his embrace, feeling the warmth and safety of his love surrounding you.

"Oh, Harry," you whisper, tears of exhaustion and joy streaming down your cheeks. "I did it."

He holds you close, his embrace a comforting anchor in the midst of your overwhelming emotions.

"Yes, you did," he murmurs, his voice soft and full of admiration. "I'm so proud of you, m’love. You're incredible."

You bury your face in his chest, inhaling his familiar scent and reveling in the feeling of being wrapped in his arms. "I couldn't have done it without you," you admit, your voice muffled against his shirt.

He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head, his touch tender and reassuring. "Y’stronger than you know, darling. And I'll always be here to support you, every step of the way."

Your heart swells with love for him, overwhelmed by the depth of his devotion.

"I love you, Harry," you whisper, your words a vow of gratitude and affection.

"I love you too, my darling," he replies, his voice filled with warmth and sincerity. "Now let's get you some rest. You've earned it."

Your son looks up from the stroller, his face breaking into a wide grin as he reaches out for you.

"Mama!" he exclaims, his little arms outstretched.

"Hey there, my little champion," you coo, scooping him up into your arms. His giggles fill the air as you pepper his chubby cheeks with kisses, each one a testament to the overwhelming love you feel for him.

Harry watches with a tender smile, his eyes shining with pride and adoration.

"Look at you two," he says, his voice filled with warmth. "My heart could burst with how much I love you both."

You laugh through your tears, the exhaustion and elation of the moment blending together in a whirlwind of emotion.

"I love you too, Harry," you say, your voice choked with emotion. "So much."

With trembling hands, you reach for the medal hanging around your neck, the weight of it a physical reminder of the journey you've just completed. Carefully, you drape it around your son's neck, the metal cool against his warm skin.

"There you go, my little marathoner," you say, your voice catching in your throat. "You deserve this just as much as I do."

Harry wraps his arms around you both, holding you close as you bask in the glow of this precious moment.

"I couldn't be prouder of you, love," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.

"You're my hero."

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moonit3 · 18 hours

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I've been completely addicted to reading your yanderes since yesterday, especially Harem and the Twins.

Therefore, I would like to request a part 3 of the Harem, if possible with more yandere fem, I am extremely lacking with yandere female, if it is not a bother, I thank you in advance for your attention and I am happy with your stories

𓆩❤︎ YANDERE! CONCUBINES HAREM

⟡ cw: yandere! female (of course), gn! reader, mentioned somnphilia (nothing happens i swear), overthinking from concubines, age gap (but like one line only), mentioned blackmail, pure fluff i guess?

⟡ word count: 1.1 k

⟡ notes: a new format? yep, i got a little tired of the same old ive been using since the very first post and its like it changed a lot…also, i am giving up my life to try to get the new mythic mercy skin (even started playing competitive to get more points) and to have aventurine in star rail (i barely have tickets, so i am going to wait to the anniversary rewards…), either way i am working hard to archive my goals and you should too! enjoy today’s writing, my dear readers :)

earlier today you forget to lock your office’s door to prevent the concubines to enter and spend time with you during work hours, which basically mean they are all over the room in completely silence, observing you working in the documents. it’s wearied to have an quiet audience like this one, but you enjoy hearing the breeze outside your office while working and the ladies definitely know, so they keep to themselves when staying at the room with the only goal to admire you.

you catch most of the ladies moving their gaze away when you stare at them when the files start becoming boring, it’s cute to think about these women who often flirt and shamelessly throw themselves at you acting like this. it reminds you they acted so desperate before as many believed that you would kick them out if any of them showed interest in you, but the ladies now know better.

stretching your arms behind your back, a faint smile slowly made to your lips as you know today’s paperwork is coming to an end. it’s a challenge to stay sit down behind the desk and analyze every new law made by the council as the elections has taken place a few months ago. if you only could ask your personal advisers to finish the work so you could take an hour or two to rest, but that won’t be possible as it is necessary to have your signature at the papers.

a yawn came out of your mouth, calling the ladies’ attention towards their beloved one while you didn’t notice their watchful eyes, you did notice how tired you’ve become in seconds. and almost instantly, your body slowly fall into the desk and right there, you began dreaming about tomorrow’s work.

the little noises of snores made all the concubines step closer to check on your sleeping body.

some of them poked your cheeks to try to wake you up, but immediately failed when you just turned out to prevent them from doing so. others had the idea to bring a plate of your favorite meal so you could smell it and suddenly wake up to thank them, but you payed no mind for it. and the remaining ones just accept that you won’t wake up any time soon, so just they carried you back to your chambers to have a proper bed to sleep on.

seeing how your chest goes up and down with your soft breathing, the concubines couldn’t help themselves to just stay quiet to watch you sleeping form. it’s adorable how their great leader looks so precious in a defenseless position like this! all the things they could do with you right now are possible, but they aren’t animal, no. never in a million years would these lovely women use your body without your consent. so, the ladies just stay inside your chamber to admire you.

“should we get our love’s plushies to let them feel savior in their dream?” the daugther of a merchant asked.

“don’t be ridiculous, anne. do you think [name] would be happier if we show that we learn about their secret stock of plushies? I don’t think so.” the third daughter of a former general answered. “also, they can’t know we stole some of them.”

the others nodded, a little scared that you would discover of all the things they have stolen from you. would you learn how many of your undergarments just vanished? or would you question they found out about your recent discussions with the former emperor? every single of them loved hearing the old man scolding you for not having any heirs to the throne, even daring to ask you if you are sterile or just a coward.

while they got angry at the your father for speaking nuisances about your body, the women couldn’t be happier when hearing the words coming out of lips. ”i will h-have my f-first night soon! just let me choose someone, okay?” and that only made them more eager to stay around you. all the ladies made a pact to keep their newly found secret away from the man who are part of the harem, after all, they are already rivals and none of them need more people to complicate their plans.

that’s why the women of the harem have become more overprotective over you in recently days, not that you’ve noticed any change on their behavior. you are too busy working to make the nation better and to take care of the harem as a whole that you barely notice the immense change on their behavior.

“it’s been hours that [name] has fallen asleep! can we wake them up to spend some time with us? please.” a foreign princess was immediately stopped from touching your forehead, her hands quickly slapped away by a older woman.

and that woman is no other than a renowned actress who retired of her incredible care to become part of the harem, but still gaining enormous revenue from her previous works. “didn’t we said to let our love to rest? oh, wait. we have been talking about it for the past hour or so and you keep insisting on waking them up? you are dumb.” the woman’s words made the princess’ face go completely red as a tomato, then leading to a silent argument between the two of them. with everyone else to witness it.

the discussion continued for ten minutes until both stopped when noticing that you’ve wake up due to their constantly shifting in their voices. of course, both of their face became red of embarrassment while the rest of the concubines could only watch you yawning, probably thinking on what you would to the troublemakers.

“…how long i was sleeping?” even with your best attempts, you can’t keep an eye open to see how many women are inside your chamber.

“a-around seven hours, your majesty.” one of them answered. “are we disturbing your rest? if so, we can leave.”

“oh, don’t worry…” a yawn escape of your lips, interrupting your words. “…you, ladies, aren’t bothering me at all. i was just thinking if you guys would like to rest with me.”

did they hear correctly? are you really asking that or they are just imaging those words to make themselves calmer of this situation. but they knew this is real when you began patting the bed, asking them once again if they would like to sleep with you for the rest of the day and of course, all of them accept it.

it didn’t took much time to you fall asleep again, this time surrounded by many and many ladies over your immense bed who almost fought each other to gain the opportunity to lay next to you. the only reason a conflict didn’t broken out was because you began cuddling a pillow of yours, leading to the concubines crying to themselves while others took photos of this precious moment to use as an important blackmail material in the future or perhaps just to sell at a high price to the male concubines.

@moonit3 . don’t repost it, don’t modify it, don’t plagiarize, translate it without my permission.

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dostoyevsky-official · 1 day

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in most cases, as i've written before, what happens on campus is a matter for those on campus, not for the newspapers. but a few days ago, the new president of columbia, after a mccarthyite investigation by congress, during which she was questioned whether or not god damns columbia and stated that she is surveilling faculty, ordered the police to arrest students expressing their right to free speech; suspended a number of others, including ilhan omar's daughter, for which she received republican praise, barring them from their dorms and giving them only 15 minutes to collect their belongings before throwing them out; arrested legal observers at the encampment; and is now making it difficult for professors to access their offices and classrooms by requiring a police escort. this is an unconscionable attack on students doing nothing more than peacefully protesting the war in gaza and the university's financial investments in israel. there is no antisemitism, no harassment, no endangerment—save the endangerment from an unwarranted police presence and the kicking of 20 year olds out to the curb. it has since spiralled beyond campus, bringing together students, adjuncts, and academics from CUNY, NYU, and other city universities; similar encampments have popped up at universities across the country.

courtesy of a law professor:

Second, although President Shafik’s decision to invite the NYPD on campus to arrest students may have been within her formal authority, it breaks with an informal settlement that had been in place for more than a half-century. The last time the university called the cops on student protesters was April 1968;* that episode ended so bitterly and bloodily that it yielded a norm of police noninvolvement. Since 1968, student protesters have repeatedly occupied Low Library, blockaded Hamilton Hall, held sit-ins in administrative offices, waged hunger strikes, staged walkouts, and more. Some of these protests led to disciplinary code charges. None elicited a criminal law enforcement response. This week’s encampment on the South Lawn posed a difficult problem for the university administration, to be sure, but not one that was different in kind, duration, or disruptiveness from scores of post-1968 protests. When the next extended student demonstration occurs, it will be hard to resist pressure to call in the cops again. Third, the most serious charge that President Shafik leveled against the student protesters, that their encampment created a “harassing and intimidating environment,” was made without the benefit of any factfinding process.** “Discriminatory harassment,” defined to include the creation of “an intimidating … environment,” is prohibited by Columbia’s Standards & Discipline policy. But that policy, and the procedural protections that come with it, does not seem to have been applied here. This suggests that the university deemed the protesters’ expressive conduct, as well as their occupation of the lawn, to be in violation of the Rules of University Conduct. Yet while the Rules allow the restriction of “expression that constitutes a genuine threat of harassment,” President Shafik offered no examples of such threats, nor to my knowledge have any been reported. If this finding of harassment is based on the discomfort some feel from the presence or message of the encampment, then the harassment concept—intended to set an objective standard that preserves a wide berth for provocative speech—has become an engine of viewpoint discrimination. Either way, its application to this case indicates that the president’s office now believes it can make such fraught judgments summarily and unilaterally. Other examples of recent ruptures might be added to the list. In the jettisoning of these institutional norms, one throughline is the prioritization of immediate objectives over longer-term considerations of academic autonomy and democratic self-governance—considerations that the norms had developed, however imperfectly, to protect. In the university as in the wider world, crisis has thus led not only to rising repression but also to the consolidation of presidential power.

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shelyue99 · 2 days

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You see the three musketeers sit around the table here shooting the bull, so while it rolls on I'll see if I can make any sense out of this. The three are Irishmen-one Capt. Nixon, and Lt. Welsh and last of all the Major. Now Capt. Nixon is the biggest drunk I've ever seen, known, or hope to see. He's worth a small fortune, never'll have to work a lick in his life, but absolutely the most reliable man I've ever known. Welsh is as bullheaded as you'd expect an Irishman to be.

—May 16, 1945, Letter to DeEtta

At the present time we're (Nixon and I) ribbing Lt. Welsh about marrying an Irish girl by the name of Kitty Grogan. He hopes to be married inside of four months. We're carefully explaining that some 4F will grab her off before that. If he does manage to get married, we promise to steal the bride for the balance of his leave unless he hires us to protect him from others who may have the same intentions. Price is 1 qt. of scotch for Nixon and 1 qt. of ice cream for myself. He doesn't take us seriously.

—May 30, 1945, Letter to DeEtta

I've mentioned Capt. Nixon I believe, of Nixon, N.J. [W]ell I've got him writing his first letter since last Nov. to his wife. Quite a guy, he's having one hell of a time getting organized and down to work. Claims he hasn't anything to say to her, just to his dog. He has a baby boy that he's never seen, but he won't talk about his son, it's always his dog. Knowing you, why I know you could spend an enjoyable two or three hours talking about how awful he is-if you knew him. However I'll tell you he's idealistic. I've known him three years and lived and slept aside and fought with him for two. This guy loves one thing right at this stage of life: a bottle of spirits or a fight. He's OK in a fight, but Jesus, outside of that he's absolutely the most undependable man you'd ever want to find.

Since we've been overseas he's only run around with one girl. An English girl and she was anything but beautiful. However she was a good listener and companion. In fact I am not too sure but this guy might end up staying over here in England. Ah yes, things are really snafu-and don't ask me what that means.

Now here we have Welsh & Nixon mixing Vodka, rum & vermouth-oh boy it won't be long now.

—June 2, 1945, Letter to DeEtta

(Writing about the job offer at Nixon Nitration Works) “I don't count on a thing until I have it," Dick confessed, "but it sounds good."

—September 2, 1945, Letter to DeEtta

Do you know what this new regimental C.O. has gone and done? Declared me essential. Why? Well you know all those nice things one can say at a time like that. Me, with 100 points as of V-E Day, and about the only officer in the regiment who has enough points to get out, and who doesn't want any part of the army, stuck until the division goes home. Which won't be this year. Boy, do you smell smoke? Don't worry, it's just me.

Capt. Nixon left this week, which makes everything just dandy. I am about as lonesome as a lovesick swab who married a Wave on an eight hour pass.

—September 16, 1945, Letter to DeEtta

From “Hang Tough: The WWII Letters and Artifacts of Major Dick Winters”

#band of brothers #dick winters #lewis nixon #winnix #sassy Dick

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hey-august · 1 day

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Hi hii

Do you also write angst?

If so...I'm genuinely curious on what's your take if Buggy's partner was severely injured and in the verge of death in his arms.

Don't mind me,,just craving a freshly baked Buggy angst 🤡

-soupsprout

Ahhhh, sorry this took a bit!

I love angst, but I've only ever written relationship-angst. Like poor communication skills or intense self-loathing.

This was a fun one to try! Fun and painful! I kinda hurt now! 🥲 I hope it hits the spot for you, @soupsprout

The ending is ambiguous and there isn't comfort because I like the pain, but I have an idea for an uplifting ending and one for a painful ending. LMK if you're interested in hearing about either 😉

WC: ~900 Warnings: NSFW - grievous injury & blood, Buggy x GN!reader, established relationship, angst no comfort

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Injuries are inevitable during a fight, and this was a fucking ambush. The crew was bound to collect new wounds and scars when they started at a disadvantage. But when shit hits the fan, they’re relentless. This time, that was a bad fucking trait.

As the din diminished and the ship drifted into eerie post-battle quiet, Buggy found you sitting against a wall. The crewmates you fought alongside were also in various states of reprieve. Leaning on crates, crouching on the ground, some even laying down as they caught their breaths. But none of them were sitting in a growing puddle of blood. None of them looked as ashen as you did. The sticky red hand squeezing your leg told the story.

Ripping his bandana off his head, Buggy sprinted over to you and kneeled on the dirty ground. He peeled your hand back, exposing the gash. This was real bad. The placement was bad. The depth was bad. He could see the surge of blood come and go, following your heartbeats. Biting the hem of his bandana, Buggy tore it into strips and wound them just above the wound. Tight but not too tight - he remembered that much.

You winced as he tied a knot and tried to push his hands away. Adrenaline dulled the pain from the original wound, but all this extra shit was too much.

“Stop,” you whined, smearing blood from your hand to his wrist.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. Just a little more, okay?”

“Don’t, Buggy…it hurts enough, just leave it.”

“Fuck, no! Listen, we need to stop the bleeding. I have to…”

Buggy didn’t know how to tell you that he needed to pack the wound and it was not going to be pleasant. It had been years since he had to dress a wound like this. He didn’t have to do this for himself since eating the goddamn Devil Fruit and his crew had a doctor to tend to the others. Right, a doctor!

Dragging the closest crew member over by the collar of their shirt, Buggy started shouting, “YOU! Go get the doctor, get a medic, fuck - just go get someone! Get fucking Mohji!”

The pirate scrambled to their feet and yanked another mate up to join him in a search for help.

“Mohji?” you repeated with a soft laugh.

“He can help. He takes care of Richie, maybe he knows-”

“I’m not a lion, Buggy. It’s not the same.”

Your over-dramatic condescending tone could have fooled the pirate into believing you were okay if your voice didn’t shake. If you weren’t talking more with your eyes shut than open. If you hadn’t lost enough blood that it was seeping into the knees of his pants.

“I dunno, you’re as annoying as Richie.”

You smiled but didn’t respond.

Buggy glanced around the room, which was nearly empty. The only ones left were the ambushers who didn’t survive and anyone who couldn’t run through the ship. No one had come back with any fucking help, though.

“Hey, keep your eyes open,” Buggy said, squeezing your cheeks.

You did what he asked, but it took a few tries. Your eyes fluttered shut more than once before you succeeded in keeping them open.

“M’tired, Buggy,” you said in a low voice. A sad voice. A scared voice.

“You can sleep later. I’ll even let you sleep on my side of the bed, okay? Just stay awake for now. Captain’s orders!”

Another smile, softer than the last one. Even Buggy could hear the desperation cracking in his throat.

“I have to do one more thing to stop the bleeding, alright? It’ll hurt and then you’ll feel better. Take a deep breath for me, okay? You can do that?”

You nodded and inhaled. It was slow and stuttering as you tried to take in as much air as you could. Buggy waited until you were too focused on breathing before jamming a wad of torn fabric into the leaking wound. He winced as you let out a loud groan and your whole body stiffened in pain.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m all done. You did so good.”

Buggy rushed to comfort you, pressing kisses to your forehead and wiping away the tears falling from your eyes with the back of his hands. Blood didn’t make him nauseous, but the sight of his palms stained red with yours did. Nauseous and nervous.

Your eyes were closed again. He asked you to open them. He asked again. They cracked open just a little. Enough to make him feel better and feel worse.

“Hey, what do you call a lion at the South Pole?”

“What?” Your head tilted and your brows tightened. You were thinking.

Buggy watched your lips move slowly as you repeated his question.

You opened your eyes a little wider and looked at him with as much confusion as you could muster. You shook your head slightly.

“Oh, you don’t know?” he teased with a big grin. A fake smile to keep you distracted. “Keep thinking about it. If you just can’t figure it out, I’ll tell you when you get better. Alright?”

You mouthed an affirmative response, but didn’t make a sound.

“So it’s a deal? You’ll get better and then I’ll tell you the answer. You gotta get better, though, okay?”

Buggy grabbed your hands, hoping you couldn’t feel how he was shaking. He wished he couldn’t feel how cold you were.

You nodded and closed your eyes to think.

#buggy angst #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy

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euphoriaasthings · 2 days

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"wait until you like me again..."

Hey guys! I've been pretty much a silent reader on here since forever but I decided to write this lmao. It's also my first time putting any of my writing out there so pls be niceshjsbh🥹

Loosely based off of that one lyric from Ariana Grande's "we can't be friends."

"You cling to your papers and pens, wait until you like me again..."

Warnings: None, just some angst.

Word count: 1.0k

Miguel lay sprawled on your couch, bored to death as he stared up at the ceiling, a half-eaten donut in one hand, a bottle of Jarritos sitting on the floor close to his outstretched arm. You weren’t too far away, seated at your dining table that was just fit enough for two. You had a deadline to meet. One of your professors had assigned you a project for class, and albeit small, you were working on a time crunch since you decided to procrastinate.

A loud sigh from the couch caused your eyes to snap upwards. You see Miguel sitting up, looking at you. “Are you done yet?” he asks almost agitatedly.

“I’m almost done, I just need about three hundred words left,” you said before taking a sip of your iced coffee. “Three hundred?” he groaned before sinking back into the couch with a deflated look.

“I told you I was busy but you decided to come over anyway,” you chuckled. Miguel couldn’t help but concede to that. It was true that he wanted to hang out at your place even though he knew you were busy. He said that he didn’t mind which, in honesty, he really didn’t. He liked being in your presence. There was something about your aura that was comforting and addicting in a way. Even when the two of you would sit in silence, it was that kind of comfortable silence that he loved. Maybe that was one of the reasons why the two of you had been friends for so long.

You’d both met in your freshman year of high school, had graduated together, and were now living on campus at university. You had always been there for each other throughout the highs and the lows. You had been there for every messy breakup he’d had, and for every mental breakdown you went through after a failed exam, he was there for you.

It hurt high school you to see him sad each time a situationship or relationship failed. You cared about him a lot. So much to the point that you had caught feelings for the guy. It frustrated you too, seeing him with another girl, knowing that he’d never look at you like that, or that you were probably not even his type.

It wasn’t until the early part of your senior year of high school that you confessed to him. He didn’t feel the same way and it broke your heart. Despite him letting you down gently, it was a heartbreaking and equally as embarrassing experience and it took you a while to heal. But the two of you stayed friends which you were grateful for.

Now, you had moved on and the two of you were in the middle of college, pursuing your individual majors.

You continued to slave away at your laptop, totally oblivious to the way Miguel was staring at you. You looked breathtaking. The way your hair cascaded past your shoulders, tired eyes behind those blue-light lenses that were now sliding down your nose, the way you chewed on your lip as you focused on the screen typing away, the ambient lighting of your dorm casting a warm glow on your features making your skin look absolutely radiant.

He would never admit it out loud but lately, he was beginning to see you differently. He’d been thinking about all the times you had been there for him, seeing how each vulnerable moment tore him down yet you never judged him for it. He recalled how he had broke down one time in front of you, completely heartbroken over the fact his first girlfriend had cheated on him. You held him as he cried his guts out. Or when his parents got a divorce and he refused to leave his room for days. You never shied away from him when he showed emotion. You were his rock, support system, and the fact that he hadn’t realized what he was looking for was right in front of him the whole time was absolutely mind-boggling.

He wanted to kick himself in the shins for being so stupid for rejecting you (his past self really set him up for failure smh). Looking back at that moment made his heart ache with guilt and regret. The way your face fell, eyes glossy with hurt and embarrassment. If you had confessed to him now, he would have swept you in his arms in a heartbeat, pressing his lips against yours before saying how he was just as much in love with you as you were with him. But that was years ago and you’d moved on.

His heart broke a little each time you mentioned a guy, or talked about a date that you’d been on. Each time you complained, saying how they were such boring, douchey guys, the urge to tell you that he would treat you so much better would threaten to slip out his mouth, but he held his tongue.

He wanted you to be the one he’d wake up next to, to make coffee and pancakes for, to stay in on rainy days cuddled up on the couch, watching sappy rom-coms with. He craved that domesticity but the only woman he could ever picture it with was you. But he had no right to swoop in and take you as his. Not after he broke your heart back then.

He sees your eyes snap up once again, locking eyes. You immediately took note of the way he seemed to be staring, getting lost in thought. “You okay?” you asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Miguel replied, slightly embarrassed that he’d been caught gawking at you. “Alright, I’m done,” you announced as you stretched your arms out, letting out a big sigh. “You wanna get something to eat?” you asked him. “Food sounds good right about now,” he replied as he watched you saunter over, plopping down next to him so comfortably before grabbing the remote. He felt a type of warmth blossom from his chest, a sliver of that domesticity radiating from how close you were to him.

He gazed at you again, his eyes wandering from yours to your lips. Oh, how badly he wanted to press his lips against yours, to pepper your pretty face with sweet, small kisses, and to say how much he loved you. But he couldn’t. So he sat there as you picked up the remote, letting you pick which show you wanted to watch, waiting for the day you’d like him again.

#miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel x y/n #spider man: across the spider verse

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constantcrisis19 · 2 days

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Loose Lips Sink Ships - Part 1

Dean Winchester x GN S/O

AN: Hey guys! I know that I disappeared for a bit, but I promise that I'm still alive and kicking! I've just been really consumed by the SoapGhost fics that I've been writing/planning for ao3 and that made it hard for me to find time to write for Tumblr in between irl things when all of my free time seemed to be dedicated to COD. But I finally decided to just sit down and work on one of my numerous WIP's which led to me cranking this bad boy out! Hope you like it!

Word Count: 2,118

You moved your hands out of your jacket pocket, revealing your well-loved wallet that you’d had for years, and pulled the card with your current alias printed onto it out of its assigned slot in a practiced motion.

You tapped the chip against the screen of the card reader in order to pay for the obscenely greasy food that you’d ordered for yourself and Dean –who you had left fast asleep in your shared motel room– watching with a keen eye as the payment processed and then was accepted with a little innocuous green check mark, the receipt printing with a soft whir.

You startled a little as a phone suddenly began to ring, the tune echoing loudly in the store, and it took you an embarrassing amount of time to realize that it was actually your cell that was going off, your free hand –which wasn’t currently juggling both your card and wallet– darted down to the back pocket of your jeans in order to collect the device with a sheepish smile.

You swiped your thumb across the screen and answered the phone without looking at the caller ID, quickly wedging the device between your ear and shoulder in order to take the receipt that the bored looking cashier was impatiently holding out toward you with your newly freed hand.

“Hey, where the hell did you run off to?” Dean was already talking before you could even manage to get a greeting out, his voice rough in a way that it only was immediately after waking up, which told you that he most likely called after rousing from sleep and noticing that you were no longer in the motel with him.

“Just figured that I’d treat your lazy ass to some breakfast since you didn’t look like you were getting up anytime soon.” You said as you took the long strip of paper from the cashier with a small nod of thanks before stepping off to the side in order to make way for the next customer to step forward and be assisted, folding up the receipt and carelessly cramming it into your wallet before shoving it back into your jeans.

You had wanted to let Dean sleep in for once since it was technically your fault that you were both up so late last night, the two of you having been all wound up after running around all day asking anyone and everyone about the suspicious deaths that had been happening around town only to come up with fuck all, so you and Dean had decided to dispel all that pent up energy and frustration by testing Dean’s so-called ‘endless stamina’ that he constantly bragged about.

Needless to say, you had put him through the wringer and managed to come out the other side a little less worse for wear than Dean had.

You settled in with your phone now comfortably resting against the side of your head as you waited for your order to be called, and you bit your lip in an attempt to repress the love-sick smile that wanted to overtake your neutral expression when you heard the telltale shift of blankets over the line.

You could see Dean carelessly sprawl his limbs out across the bed in your mind's eye, your fingers twitching with the urge to brush your fingers through his –no doubt– adorable bedhead, the impulse always bubbling up without fail when you saw his hair sticking up at all sorts of odd angles.

“Rough night?” You asked, your voice practically dripping with faux-concern as you idly watched the people milling about the pop fountain, and Dean let loose a distinctly unattractive snort that had a smug grin spreading across your lips, your salacious smile earning you a dirty look from a woman who had just finished filling a large cup with cola that you unfortunately just so happened to make eye contact with.

“You’d know.” Dean groused, the sound of him moving about restlessly nearly drowning out his petulant response as he heaved himself upright with a groan that had him sounding like he was an old man rather than a spry twenty-six year old, and you winced in sympathy.

As hunters, your line of work was unforgiving and you yourself were subject to the various aches and pains that came from such a physically demanding job on more than one occasion.

“You order yet?” Dean asked suddenly and you blinked rapidly, his voice abruptly pulling you from the aimless staring that you’d been unknowingly doing as you recalled how stiff and sore you were when you woke up this morning. Though, if you were being honest with yourself, that was definitely a byproduct of last night's rigorous activities rather than having to fight for your life against some bloodthirsty creature or another for once, which was admittedly a nice change of pace.

“Yup. Got you a bacon breakfast burrito, hash browns, and a slice of cherry pie.” You replied with a wide grin, a bark of laughter erupting from your chest and startling the few people standing near you when Dean let out a truly sinful moan of appreciation.

“I love you so fucking much.” Dean declared, the mattress springs creaking as he pushed to his feet and walked across the small room before clicking on a lightswitch, his voice taking on a distinct echo as he entered the borderline claustrophobic motel bathroom.

“I know.” You said smugly before suddenly remembering the woman that you had run into on your way to the restaurant, causing you to be out longer than you’d originally intended, which was the whole reason why you were back with breakfast before Dean woke up.

“Also, while I was out, I happened to run into a friend of the ex-wife of the last victim and I may have found a lead on this case.” You stated after briefly glancing around and taking a couple of steps back in order to make sure that no one would be overhearing your conversation.

The most that you’d been able to get out of the shell-shocked woman when you and Dean had went to interrogate her the previous day was that her ex-husband had broken into the house while she was home alone and, after saying some shit that made no sense at all whatsoever, had dropped dead right there in the dining room before she could even process what had happened.

And that wasn’t even the weirdest thing that had happened, the person before that had slumped over dead in a church confessional booth after saying about three words to the priest and the one before that had just randomly collapsed to the ground in the middle of a crosswalk after angrily yelling at a reckless driver that had almost ran her over.

“Alright, hit me.�� Dean said, sounding much more awake now but, before you could say a word, one of the employees called out your order number over the general chatter of the restaurant. You snapped to attention, muttering a quick warning to Dean that the food was done and you were gonna go grab it, before moving forward and maneuvering your way through the small crowd that had accumulated between you and the front desk.

You took the grease-stained brown paper bag with a grateful smile and a polite nod before turning on your heel in order to make your way over to the exit. You shamelessly used your foot to bully the door open –since your hands were full– before stepping outside and squinting when the sun made your eyes ache, unused to the intense brightness after having spent so much time under the fluorescent lights that they had installed indoors.

“As I was saying, apparently there’s an old legend–” You began as you trotted over to the nearby sidewalk in order to begin the long walk back to the motel, only to be almost immediately interrupted by Dean.

“There always is.” Dean muttered to himself through a muffled yawn, but you expertly ignored him –a talent that had been born from being around the older Winchester for several years– and continued on as if he had never even uttered a word.

“–that a witch used to terrorize the area way back when this place used to be just a tiny trading town and, considering that there is definitely some kind of curse involved here, I figured that a witch –if not the very same witch from the story– is most likely our culprit rather than a cursed object, like we initially suspected.” You continued explaining your findings, lifting a hand to wave at the driver of a pick up that had slowed to a stop and motioned to the street in front of them, allowing you to quickly jog across the crosswalk.

“Fucking witches man.” Dean growled, the deep sound sending the wrong kind of signals to your brain and making your core heat up in anticipation as images of last night came to the forefront of your mind, an overwhelming sense of smug satisfaction blooming in your chest when you recalled the plethora of possessive marks that you’d shamelessly left all over his body.

The deafening blare of a car horn unceremoniously yanked you from your internal musings and you gave Dean a noncommital hum as your gaze scanned over the street in an effort to find the origin of the noise, pausing your search and freezing mid step when you noticed a man and a woman standing stock still on the other side of the busy road, both of them just staring at you as passersby gave them a wide berth.

“Hello? You still there?” You heard Dean’s voice as he called out over the phone, but your attention was firmly locked onto the pair on the opposite sidewalk who were very openly watching you with an intensity that made your gut churn, your eyes widening when you made the mistake of making eye contact with the woman and she shot you a mean grin.

“Uh, yeah. It’s just– There’s a man and a woman staring at me… and I have a feeling that they’re not coming over here for a friendly chat.” You relayed warily as the two finally moved, the woman taking the lead as they stepped off the curb and began making their way across the road toward you.

And, no sooner than the words had left your mouth, you heard the telltale sound of Dean grabbing his keys and jacket before the rhythmic thump of rapid footsteps and the heavy slam of a door signaled his rushed exit from the motel room, the relative silence of the room being replaced by the whistle of the wind and general bustle of the city as Dean climbed into the Impala.

“Don’t hang up and don’t move, I’m coming to you.” Dean snapped furiously –though you didn’t take his harsh tone to heart since you knew that he was just worried– and you winced when you heard the deafening squeal of tires on asphalt from Dean’s end of the line, the commotion promptly being followed by a flurry of irritated honking as he drove like a mad man.

“The not moving thing probably won’t be an option, but you can access my location from your own phone and use that to track my movements. I’ll keep the call connected if I can.” You said quickly before acting as if you dropped the call and stashing your cell into the right pocket of your jacket moments before the woman came to a halt about a foot away from you, her companion not too far behind.

“Hello. You’ll have to forgive my rudeness, it’s been awhile since I’ve come across a hunter. Especially one who is brave or stupid enough to travel with someone as infamous and recognizable as a Winchester.” The woman –who you assumed was in charge– greeted with faux-remorse, and you swallowed nervously as her red lips stretched into a wide smile that showed off too many teeth to be strictly friendly.

You scrambled for something to focus on as you began to panic at the realization that the mystery woman –who you strongly suspected was the very witch that you’d been looking for– not only knew who you were but also why you were there, your brain stupidly choosing to latch onto the fact that the pair were going to cause you to be delayed even longer, which meant that it was becoming more than likely that your food was going to be stone cold by the time you made it back to the motel.

If you managed to come out of the confrontation alive, that is.

#supernatural #spn #pre series #pre season one #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #protective dean #hunter reader #established relationship #shameless flirting #banter #case fic #hunt gone wrong #witches #curses

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hinata-chan-utaitelover · 1 day

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Caretaker of Wings | A Chaggie FanFic

Request and Prompt by @bunnyinfoxclothing

After the battle with Heaven, Vaggie started to notice something off with her wings. She hadn't noticed it when she gained them back, only now, they were in such excruciating pain that she started her day off with a hunched over posture and groaning with each step she took. The angel finally made it to the lobby area where Charlie was busy planning her newest trust exercise for the unenthusiastic hotel residents.

Vaggie approached her busy girlfriend, not wanting to startle her, and lightly tapped her shoulder, "Hey babe?".

Charlie turned towards Vaggie, looking concerned as she quickly took notice of her girlfriend not looking like her usual self. "Are you alright, Vaggie? You don't look too good. " Worry filling her eyes.

Vaggie, not wanting to worry the princess too much, replied with a soft smile, "Yeah, I've just been having this really bad back pain all morning."

Charlie was on the verge of tears now knowing her song bird was in pain. "Hey honey, do you want me to give you a back massage?"

"Sure babe, maybe that'll help ease the pain." she smiled softly.

The two girls began making their way to their shared bedroom. Charlie helped the angel lie stomach down on their bed after slipping off said angels' shirt. Charlie sat straddled over the girl's thighs while taking a look at her back.

The skin in between Vaggie's wings was red and inflamed. Charlie hesitantly placed her hand on the raw skin to which Vaggie winced in pain.

"We'll have to take care of that before we start, be right back." Charlie left her girlfriend and headed to their bathroom, grabbing a jar of antibiotic cream and bandages.

Charlie made it back to her previous place on their bed and looked back down at the wound as she began scooping out cream, "Now, my song bird, this is going to hurt, but it'll be over quickly. Are you ready?"

Vaggie only nodded in response.

And with that, Charlie began applying the cream, earning a heartshattering shriek followed by a small whimper. "I know this hurts, but I'm almost done." Charlie reassured. She finished applying the cream and then placed the bandage on the wound.

"There! Now that your wound is taken care of, we can get back to the massage!" The princess exclaimed as she placed a kiss on the bandage.

Charlie began slowly rubbing and kneading Vaggie's lower back, earning giggles from said girl. "Chaharlie! Thahat tihihickles!!"

The princess didn't respond, only moving her hands up to the area where the wings attached, while minding the angel's wound, and continued the massage. This spot earned her even more laughter as it seemed to be more sensitive.

#Chaharliee!! Ihihit's shoho bahad!!" The gurl squealed, wriggling and squirming under her.

Charlie seized her hands to give the girl a breather before finishing the massage session with her upper back.

"There we are! Charlie's epic massage session is complete!" Charlie exclaimed, with her bouncy response earning a giggle from her girlfriend.

Charlie reached her hands out to help Vaggie sit up against the bedframe.

"Are you feeling better?" Charlie questioned, placing her arm around the angel.

Vaggie fell into her touch and rested her head on Charlie's chest, "Much better, thanks babe."

"Anything for you. I love you, my beautiful song bird." Charlie replied with a gentle smile, placing a kiss on her girlfriend's head, hugging her tighter.

"I love you too, forever and always."

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! Since it's been over a year since I've written a fic, I'll accept any criticism you have to offer.

If you have any requests, either dm me or send a request through my ask box.

#hazbin hotel chaggie #chaggie #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel ships #hazbin hotel vaggie #vaggie #hazbin hotel charlie #stephanie beatriz #erika henningsen #vivienne medrano #vivziepop #sickfic #hurt/comfort

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ladyloveandjustice · 2 days

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I liveblog the Odyssey (The Liveblogyssey)

'I've been listening to and reading The Odyssey (Emily Wilson's translation) and I've been rambling a lot to my partner, so I thought I would also liveblog my first impressions! I read parts of The Odyssey in high school and college but never the whole thing start to finish.

Athena spoils half the plot right off, I mean obviously I knew it already, but still. We start near the end of the story with Odysseus trapped on Calypso's island, Telemachus really upset that the suitors are EATING ALL THEIR SHEEP, and the beginning follows Telemachus around as he travels around to try to learn about his dad and if he's alive. Which... we know he is so that takes a little of the tension out of it.

(Seriously, Telemachus is very fixated on the sheep thing. I get that it's a big source of food but maybe you should be a little more concerned about your mom fending off 108 suitors bud).

Athena in disguise goes to meet and accompany him, appearing as an older man, and this translation is very simple and accessible (though there are definitely moments of beautiful prose) but this sometimes leads to really awkward lines like Telemachus telling Athena in disguise "I will give you a precious, pretty treasure as a keepsake to mark our special friendship" which like. are you hitting on him Telemachus you just said you think he's fatherly.

Telemachus is going thru it though. so you can't help but feel bad for him. "My mother says I am his son, but I can't be sure [...} I wish I were the son of someone lucky, who can grow old at home, instead the most unlucky man alive is said to be my father." Like that one of the times you feel the connection going back thousand of years so fiercely, the idea of having no connection to your father because you've never met him and he doesn't even feel like your dad, just a story, and too bad you can't be the son of someone who's around.

Meanwhile, a super unintentionally funny lin from young Mac is "The poets are not to blame for how things are, Blame Zeus." which yeah, that sums up most of Greek myth doesn't it! (also very funny of Homer to be like "be nice to poets, they're cool".) He also tells his own Mom to go back to the kitchen so he can assert to the suitors he's in charge and there's a man in this house, but we are reading a story from 8th century BC so.

Anyway he goes around with Athena travelling and learning about his dad, and honestly, the Odyssey is so funny. Love the part where Nestor is like "oh if only Athena favored you as she did her father" and Telemachus is like “Yeah Athena’s not on my side” :/ and she's just. sitting there with him and says”hmm are you sure I think she maybe is probably"

(and then she's like "btw to gods don't control who lives and who dies TELEMACHUS we can't even protect our mortal loved ones (but please ignore all the times we've actively killed people) and also! also! I think your dad should be grateful to go on a cool quest and be alive when he could have just died the second he left Troy, think about THAT!!!)

then she just randomly turns into a bird and leaves after ensuring Telemachus has good sleeping arrangements. Telemachus never reacts to this, everyone else is just like "omg Athena!!" he says nothing I assume he was just standing there in slackjawed shock for the next couple of hours and going over all the embarrassing things he said.

Also we get to see Helen! And I knew from earlier Greek studies that people today acting like she was dumb just because men found her attractive was misogynist nonsense. But now I get to be extra mad because the woman isn't just not dumb, she's really intelligent and observant!

Not only does she immediately figure out who Telemachus is because she saw him when he was a newborn (how??) and relays that during the Trojan war she was the only one able to recognize odysseus when he came to her place in disguise and gave him intel, but most importantly she talks about "the day the Greeks marched off to troy, their minds fixated on war and violence. They made my face the cause that hounded them". Just subtly calling the whole army out. She knows they didn't actually go to war for her. She knows she was just an excuse, and a weak one at that. She knows they wanted this war, they wanted this violence.

So yeah, Helen is smart as hell! Screw that "Everyone wanted Helen of Sparta I wanted someone a little smarter" shit from Epic, sexist nonsense, I'm glad that song was cut.

She also mentions that "Aphrodite made her go crazy" when she agreed to run off, which could be literally true (Aphrodite did tend to do that) or a clever way to protect her reputation after leaving her husband.

Helen also has drugs, which I imagine is a big reason everyone liked her. The total package. But uh, she also does drugs everyone's drinks without apparently telling them. With what sounds like superpowered magic weed or something, to make them mellow and calm and erase anxiety and depression. It says "Whoever drinks this mixture for the bowl will shed no tears that day not even if her mother or father should die" which uh actually seems kind of dangerous! But Telemachus is goin' thru it, so maybe he could use it. but apparently it doesn't work (or takes a long time to kick in} because Telemachus gets upset anyway and says things like "This makes it worse! Courage could not save my father's life!" and wants to go to bed. (PS she got the weed from Egypt, and it's nice that the story is very complementary about Egyptians, calling them the "healer's people").

And then we've finished Telemachus's depression session and get back to Penelope. THE SAGA CONTINUES IN PART 2.

#the liveblogyssey #nev reads the oddysey #the oddysey #telemachus #athena #epic the musical

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