Tumgik
#the only place i could find it was target
Note
For the Crowley interaction event how about him getting lunch one day and a food fight breaks out in the cafeteria? It can be a mob student or a main boy that starts it I just want to know how he reacts and deals with it or not.
Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.
Tumblr media
Meat pie, meat pie🎵
Crowley hummed in his head as he fell into the cafeteria line. He could smell the spices and hearty game meat stewing in the kitchen. His mouth watered, eager to sink his teeth into a slice.
Students inched forward, drifting to vacant tables with trays of food and drink. The system the school had in place was streamlined, efficient--before long, Crowley was the next to be served.
“Ah, headmaster. Here for your lunch break, I see,” one of the chefs greeted. He plopped an entire meat pie onto a platter and slid it toward Crowley. "There you are, an extra-large helping of your favorite!"
"Thank you, my good ghost," Crowley responded with the tip of his hat. "Please do keep up the excellent work!"
"Anytime. I know how hard you work to keep this school running. It's the least I can do to help fill your stomach."
"Fufufu, and it is very much appreciated~"
While Crowley exchanged pleasantries with the ghost chef, he failed to take note of the students in his surroundings. The usual murmurs had grown tense, like a rope pulled in two different directions. Shifty eyes met one another, fingers fidgeting.
Then, in the midst of the tentative peace, one boy's voice rang out.
"FOOD FIGHT!"
Hell broke loose in the cafeteria. Students were suddenly out of their seats, food flying, people racing for the exit or ducking under chairs to avoid the incoming fire.
Sebek made a desperate leap to defend his liege from mashed potatoes, Jamil hurried Kalim out, using his own body as an unwilling shield. Ace and Deuce were targeting each other, and on the opposite side of the room, Epel was flinging spoonfuls of applesauce, much to his dorm members' horror. Floyd busied himself with trying to catch wayward food in his gaping mouth. Riddle shouted over the chaos, attempting to gain control of the frenzy--no one listened.
"Oh, sweet, merciful Seven!!" Crowley cried out in distress. “G-Gentlemen, let’s calm ourselves and put down the—eeeep!!”
"Take cover, sir!" the ghost chest warned, diving under a table himself.
Crowley yelped at a rogue banana chucked his way. He managed to dodge it, only to find a gravy stain blooming on his vest. The next hit was to his tray, knocking his meal to the ground in an unceremonious heap, crust ruined and meaty innards oozing out.
"M-My clothes!!" he pathetically wailed. "My meat piiiiie!!!"
The food fight continued, unaware of his plight.
A great wave of irritation overcame Crowley. They will never learn right from wrong without a stern hand to guide them.
Slamming his tray down, he seized his walking stick in its place. Magic welled up from within him, bringing about a rain of shimmering light at his command.
At once, the frantic scene was put on pause. Limbs locking, food dropping to the ground.
"Hey, what gives?"
“Why can’t I move?!”
“M-My body…!”
"That's enough of that," Crowley announced, making his presence known. He folded his arms and tutted disapprovingly. “Really, now! I expect better behavior of my students!!”
"He started it!" the boys chorused. Crowley suspected that they would be pointing at one another, were it not for his spell freezing them in place. A few dissenting voices--Riddle ("I tried to control them, headmaster!!") and Sebek ("THE YOUNG MASTER HAS DONE NOTHING TO DESERVE THIS CRUELTY! PUNISH ME IF YOU MUST, BUT NOT HIM!") only contributed to the madness.
"Regardless of who did and did not instigate, all of you will have to be reprimanded. After all, the majority of you did participate or otherwise worsened the situation once it started!!"
Crowley thrusted a finger at the floor, then the walls. They were splattered with sauces and chunks of meat and vegetables.
"You should all be ashamed of yourselves. The ghost chefs toil to prepare these delicious, nutritious meals for you growing boys--and here they are, gone to waste!!"
He waved his hand, loosening his magical hold on the boys. Buckets of soapy water and mops materialized beside them. Realizing what was coming next, they collectively groaned.
"I believe the appropriate punishment would be to clean up this mess you've made. I recommend that you hop to it--there's only so much time allotted in the school day for one's lunch break." Crowley's eyes glinted with mischief. "Fufufu, yes, yes, that will do just nicely!"
I'm such a genius~
35 notes · View notes
crow2222 · 2 days
Note
So like, I had the random idea that Dally probably makes ‘fun’ brownies, so Darry finding them and assuming they’re just regular brownies, he has a few of them, and when Dally freaks out about the brownies missing Darry tells him they tasted good but had a strange aftertaste.
Anyways basically the gang dealing with Darry while he’s (accidentally) high. Teddy bear Dare lmao.
I was going to write it all but I thought the video and start seems good enough too (I can't be bothered to write all of it)
The gang were all well aware of Dallys and Two Bits’ fair shares of adventures with weed, Steve being the only one who was actually bothered about it, seeing as he was the usual target for their high shenanigans...
This one particular morning, they had made a whole plan (a rarity for the two of them). Pony and Steve were at school, Soda and Darry were working and so Twobit and Dally decided to hang out at the Curtis' and eat the edibles there, before heading out to Bucks to hunt action or something.
Dally arrived at the empty house first, and upon said arrival, he realised that Twobit was probably still sleeping off a hangover despite it being past two. Knowing they didn't have much time until the rest of the gang started filling back in, he left the tray of the brownies they were gonna eat in the kitchen before running out to wake up Two bit in the worst way possible.
Little did Dally know, Darry had finished work early that day as more people were at the site than usual. So like normal Darry pulls up to the house,blissfully unaware that anyone was even at the house yet. The only thing that was on his mind was getting some rest after the gruelling week he’s had, and now he had a chance to catch up on well needed sleep.
He got out of the truck fairly quickly, snatching his toolbelt from the back before getting up the steps of the house and getting in. He winced as the screen hit the wall, that wall might get a hole from it one day. After closing the door gently, he threw his toolbelt on his chair, which successfully landed, and then untied his boots while slumping against the wall, his mind already drifting to how comfortable his bed was before he had to get up.
Most people thought Darry was a cleanfreak, and he was, but only on the day he was motivated to clean. Otherwise, he was just as messy as his brothers, leaving dirty clothes on the floor of his room, but he’d kick it all under his bed to deal with later and so it seemed clean. He almost never makes him bed and leaves dishes everywhere, which he later blames on the other guys in the house as he forgot they were even his in the first place!
His boots toppled over as he tried to step over them, but he left them there, hoping to at least chug whatever was left of the chocolate milk he’d bought yesterday as he started to feel the ache of his muscles settle in. He started unbuttoning his dirty work shirt as he made his way to the kitchen, but stopped in his tracks as he noticed the tray of brownies on the table.
He didn’t make any yesterday, and there was no way Pony or Soda had time this morning as he gave both of them a ride. He stared at the tray for another beat before yelling out a “Hello?” to whoever might be in the house.
When he was sure no one else was home, he accepted the fact that these brownies were a godsend and picked up a cut out chunk before heading to the fridge to scavenge the milk he could wash down the dessert with.
He quickly noticed something off about the brownies, maybe they were stale? Or maybe they were those sneaky brownies his mom used to make with broccoli or beetroot when he and his brothers refused to eat their greens? But Darry just shrugged it off as he sat down with the carton of milk he'd dug out from the back of the fridge, alongside a glass since he wasn’t a goddamn animal like the rest of them.
He was just as much of a sweet tooth like his brothers, if not more, so he did feel a bit guilty when half the tray was missing. 
He put the almost empty milk back to the fridge, mentally leaving a note to buy more on the next grocery trip. As he was polishing off his now cleaned glass, he heard loud voices outside the house, before the door was slammed open.
“Hey Darry. Didn’t think you were gon be home this early?” Dally crept into the kitchen to where he heard the water running. Twobit was right on his tail, and also said something to Darry but Dally didn’t hear as he realised what happened to the tray.
Darry ate the brownies.
He elbowed Two Bit as discreetly as he could, alongside a nod towards the table with the edibles, and he watched as realisation was etched into his features, “Lordy, supermans getting fucked up.” He hissed into Dally’s ear, apparently not quietly enough as Darry turned around with the towel in his hands.
“What’d ya say?” 
36 notes · View notes
the-acid-pear · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
These two lines really make me feel like Susie is only a bully for, let's say, survival reasons. But that's as coherent as i can get so i'm going to ramble the rest of my thoughts on the tags.
17 notes · View notes
vyragosa · 1 year
Note
idk if you’ve already read the 7.2 chapter but is there any info about Marisbury or/and Chaldean? people on reddit say Marisbury is actually a mastermind and basically U-Olga was a red-herring but idk if it’s really true
.
3 notes · View notes
westernsunshine · 4 months
Text
Also should I tell my physio that her massage gun bruised my thigh
#i only found this out because i took a bath to try to relieve the pain in my coccyx (which i fell on due to black ice)#(can whoever’s writing my life give me ten minutes please)#but. yeah#she got these new attachments for the massage gun and she was like ‘they don’t fit on there very well i think i need to message the supplier#and i was like ‘haha… yeah 😬😬😬’#that’s me gritting my teeth from the pain. which at the time i didn’t think was any worse than normal but i think these faulty attachments#gripped my skin rather than gliding over it & instead targeting my muscles#and yeah. i’m not mad; i’m not going to sue or anything. some bruises on my thigh is like the least of my troubles atm#for god’s sake i fell directly on my coccyx Onto Black Ice today AND i started my period today#AND i’m pretty sure i hurt my knee while i was sumo-squatting and trying to get up#my mom was trying to help me up and i was trying to communicate ‘i am still standing on ice you’ve gotta help me turn around’#and she was just not getting it and like. i think the reason i dislocated the knee in the first place is because i went into a low squat#to clean up a mug my manager dropped and broke. something about squatting incorrectly really fucks me up#so my knee feels terrible and i’m babying it; i can’t sit down; can’t even really find a comfortable position to lie down#my uterus is trying to kill me… i do not care about the bruises on my thighs#i really just want to give her some friendly advice to not use those gun attachments on anybody who is more injured than me#and has less meat on their bones than i do because she could fuck them up ngl#it is the fault of whoever made those attachments but also like. you need to assess your equipment before you use it on people#i’ve got bright blue bruises on me and they appeared same day… and here i was thinking i was being a pussy about the massage gun 🫥#i think i need to tell her. but gooooood god how do i phrase it#maybe i should just show up physically and ask her to assess my tailbone situation (she’s also an osteopath) and in the meantime be like#‘hey chief by the way can i show you something real quick? yeah those are from your gun. i’m not going to sue or anything but maybe don’t#use that thing on anyone who is wimpier than me. which is probably not a lot of people so you’re good’#godddd. this was supposed to be the season i became mobile! now i’m looking up donut pillows#word of advice. get a good fucking pair of winter boots#personal
0 notes
sunkern-plus · 10 months
Text
TFW my body is so abnormally shaped that I probably can't even find a swimsuit or a bra from torrid or lane bryant (aka the fashionable fat fashion places) and I have to resort to lands end and woman within
1 note · View note
reasonsforhope · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
Story from the Washington Post here, non-paywall version here.
Washington Post stop blocking linksharing and shit challenge.
"The young woman was catatonic, stuck at the nurses’ station — unmoving, unblinking and unknowing of where or who she was.
Her name was April Burrell.
Before she became a patient, April had been an outgoing, straight-A student majoring in accounting at the University of Maryland Eastern Shore. But after a traumatic event when she was 21, April suddenly developed psychosis and became lost in a constant state of visual and auditory hallucinations. The former high school valedictorian could no longer communicate, bathe or take care of herself.
April was diagnosed with a severe form of schizophrenia, an often devastating mental illness that affects approximately 1 percent of the global population and can drastically impair how patients behave and perceive reality.
“She was the first person I ever saw as a patient,” said Sander Markx, director of precision psychiatry at Columbia University, who was still a medical student in 2000 when he first encountered April. “She is, to this day, the sickest patient I’ve ever seen.” ...
It would be nearly two decades before their paths crossed again. But in 2018, another chance encounter led to several medical discoveries...
Markx and his colleagues discovered that although April’s illness was clinically indistinguishable from schizophrenia, she also had lupus, an underlying and treatable autoimmune condition that was attacking her brain.
After months of targeted treatments [for lupus] — and more than two decades trapped in her mind — April woke up.
The awakening of April — and the successful treatment of other people with similar conditions — now stand to transform care for some of psychiatry’s sickest patients, many of whom are languishing in mental institutions.
Researchers working with the New York state mental health-care system have identified about 200 patients with autoimmune diseases, some institutionalized for years, who may be helped by the discovery.
And scientists around the world, including Germany and Britain, are conducting similar research, finding that underlying autoimmune and inflammatory processes may be more common in patients with a variety of psychiatric syndromes than previously believed.
Although the current research probably will help only a small subset of patients, the impact of the work is already beginning to reshape the practice of psychiatry and the way many cases of mental illness are diagnosed and treated.
“These are the forgotten souls,” said Markx. “We’re not just improving the lives of these people, but we’re bringing them back from a place that I didn’t think they could come back from.” ...
Waking up after two decades
The medical team set to work counteracting April’s rampaging immune system and started April on an intensive immunotherapy treatment for neuropsychiatric lupus...
The regimen is grueling, requiring a month-long break between each of the six rounds to allow the immune system to recover. But April started showing signs of improvement almost immediately...
A joyful reunion
“I’ve always wanted my sister to get back to who she was,” Guy Burrell said.
In 2020, April was deemed mentally competent to discharge herself from the psychiatric hospital where she had lived for nearly two decades, and she moved to a rehabilitation center...
Because of visiting restrictions related to covid, the family’s face-to-face reunion with April was delayed until last year. April’s brother, sister-in-law and their kids were finally able to visit her at a rehabilitation center, and the occasion was tearful and joyous.
“When she came in there, you would’ve thought she was a brand-new person,” Guy Burrell said. “She knew all of us, remembered different stuff from back when she was a child.” ...
The family felt as if they’d witnessed a miracle.
“She was hugging me, she was holding my hand,” Guy Burrell said. “You might as well have thrown a parade because we were so happy, because we hadn’t seen her like that in, like, forever.”
“It was like she came home,” Markx said. “We never thought that was possible.”
...After April’s unexpected recovery, the medical team put out an alert to the hospital system to identify any patients with antibody markers for autoimmune disease. A few months later, Anca Askanase, a rheumatologist and director of the Columbia Lupus Center,who had been on April’s treatment team, approached Markx. “I think we found our girl,” she said.
Bringing back Devine
When Devine Cruz was 9, she began to hear voices. At first, the voices fought with one another. But as she grew older, the voices would talk about her, [and over the years, things got worse].
For more than a decade, the young woman moved in and out of hospitals for treatment. Her symptoms included visual and auditory hallucinations, as well as delusions that prevented her from living a normal life.
Devine was eventually diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder, which can result in symptoms of both schizophrenia and bipolar disorder. She also was diagnosed with intellectual disability.
She was on a laundry list of drugs — two antipsychotic medications, lithium, clonazepam, Ativan and benztropine — that came with a litany of side effects but didn’t resolve all her symptoms...
She also had lupus, which she had been diagnosed with when she was about 14, although doctors had never made a connection between the disease and her mental health...
Last August, the medical team prescribed monthly immunosuppressive infusions of corticosteroids and chemotherapy drugs, a regime similar to what April had been given a few years prior. By October, there were already dramatic signs of improvement.
“She was like ‘Yeah, I gotta go,’” Markx said. “‘Like, I’ve been missing out.’”
After several treatments, Devine began developing awareness that the voices in her head were different from real voices, a sign that she was reconnecting with reality. She finished her sixth and final round of infusions in January.
In March, she was well enough to meet with a reporter. “I feel like I’m already better,” Devine said during a conversation in Markx’s office at the New York State Psychiatric Institute, where she was treated. “I feel myself being a person that I was supposed to be my whole entire life.” ...
Her recovery is remarkable for several reasons, her doctors said. The voices and visions have stopped. And she no longer meets the diagnostic criteria for either schizoaffective disorder or intellectual disability, Markx said...
Today, Devine lives with her mother and is leading a more active and engaged life. She helps her mother cook, goes to the grocery store and navigates public transportation to keep her appointments. She is even babysitting her siblings’ young children — listening to music, taking them to the park or watching “Frozen 2” — responsibilities her family never would have entrusted her with before her recovery.
Expanding the search for more patients
While it is likely that only a subset of people diagnosed with schizophrenia and psychotic disorders have an underlying autoimmune condition, Markx and other doctors believe there are probably many more patients whose psychiatric conditions are caused or exacerbated by autoimmune issues...
The cases of April and Devine also helped inspire the development of the SNF Center for Precision Psychiatry and Mental Health at Columbia, which was named for the Stavros Niarchos Foundation, which awarded it a $75 million grant in April. The goal of the center is to develop new treatments based on specific genetic and autoimmune causes of psychiatric illness, said Joseph Gogos, co-director of the SNF Center.
Markx said he has begun care and treatment on about 40 patients since the SNF Center opened. The SNF Center is working with the New York State Office of Mental Health, which oversees one of the largest public mental health systems in America, to conduct whole genome sequencing and autoimmunity screening on inpatients at long-term facilities.
For “the most disabled, the sickest of the sick, even if we can help just a small fraction of them, by doing these detailed analyses, that’s worth something,” said Thomas Smith, chief medical officer for the New York State Office of Mental Health. “You’re helping save someone’s life, get them out of the hospital, have them live in the community, go home.”
Discussions are underway to extend the search to the 20,000 outpatients in the New York state system as well. Serious psychiatric disorders, like schizophrenia, are more likely to be undertreated in underprivileged groups. And autoimmune disorders like lupus disproportionately affect women and people of color with more severity.
Changing psychiatric care
How many people ultimately will be helped by the research remains a subject of debate in the scientific community. But the research has spurred excitement about the potential to better understand what is going on in the brain during serious mental illness...
Emerging research has implicated inflammation and immunological dysfunction as potential players in a variety of neuropsychiatric conditions, including schizophrenia, depression and autism.
“It opens new treatment possibilities to patients that used to be treated very differently,” said Ludger Tebartz van Elst, a professor of psychiatry and psychotherapy at University Medical Clinic Freiburg in Germany.
In one study, published last year in Molecular Psychiatry, Tebartz van Elst and his colleagues identified 91 psychiatric patients with suspected autoimmune diseases, and reported that immunotherapies benefited the majority of them.
Belinda Lennox, head of the psychiatry department at the University of Oxford, is enrolling patients in clinical trials to test the effectiveness of immunotherapy for autoimmune psychosis patients.
As a result of the research, screenings for immunological markers in psychotic patients are already routine in Germany, where psychiatrists regularly collect samples from cerebrospinal fluid.
Markx is also doing similar screening with his patients. He believes highly sensitive and inexpensive blood tests to detect different antibodies should become part of the standard screening protocol for psychosis.
Also on the horizon: more targeted immunotherapy rather than current “sledgehammer approaches” that suppress the immune system on a broad level, said George Yancopoulos, the co-founder and president of the pharmaceutical company Regeneron.
“I think we’re at the dawn of a new era. This is just the beginning,” said Yancopoulos."
-via The Washington Post, June 1, 2023
6K notes · View notes
ssahotchnerr · 4 days
Note
omg could you maybe write something about reader going to one of jacks soccer games and all of the moms are jealous of her bc she’s with hotch
not so friendly competition
omg i absolutely can cw; fem!reader, jealous suburban moms, one tries to make a pass at aaron, established relationship, small angst?, pettiness, aaron being adorable <3 wc; 1.3k
from the moment you arrived - a hand clasped in aaron's, jack excitedly sprinting ahead the two of you - you could feel the target on your back.
the warm, refreshing morning suddenly felt quite stuffy. as if strangely enough, there wasn't enough air to go around. the feeling especially solidified when aaron gave you a sweet, parting kiss - him off to uphold his coaching duties, you off to find a spot on the grass to set up your chair.
you half expected it, the feeling out of place and self consciousness; this was jack's second season playing soccer, aaron's second season coaching, and most of the players had returned from last year. long story short, and entering a relationship with aaron only a few weeks after jack's season had concluded, you were the new face.
not only that, you were missing a common trait amongst the others. you weren't, by definition, jack's mom.
it was a silly, technical notion, and it was quite possible you weren't the only outlier, but you simply wanted to belong there just as much as the others. to feel as if you belonged.
and that's definitely not how you currently felt.
despite your perception - hoping you had falsely and quickly misjudged the atmosphere - you offered the moms a smile and a hello as you got settled. you got maybe one, two responses in return, before they resumed their ongoing conversation without you. any hopefulness that remained, deflated as you sat there silently.
and while you weren't exactly listening to them, you could still make out bits and pieces of their conversation. however, your ears fully perked up at the mention of aaron. which also brought you into the discussion.
"you're with the coach?"
her question wasn't based on genuine interest, a getting-to-know-type basis, a friendly conversation starter. but, it was rather accusatory, as if you'd done something detrimentally wrong.
you nodded, your eyebrows furrowing briefly in confusion. "yes?"
"like... with him?"
oh.
the standoffish environment wasn't due to you being unwelcome, or, at least not in the way you had previously anticipated. it was jealousy, plain jealousy. they must've spent all of last season ogling aaron, and here you were, getting in the way.
again, you nodded in confirmation. a few grimaces were produced amongst several faces, igniting something deep within you, suddenly feeling very protective of aaron and your relationship.
you casually shot back, relentlessly, "why, is that a problem?"
the mom shrugged, pulling her eyes from yours annoyingly, as if you'd done her an injustice.
she didn't stop there though, uttering something under her breath. while you didn't hear what it was exactly - the low tone definitely indicated she had just insulted you in one way or another.
and choosing to remain on the civil side, you held your tongue.
the whispers continued sparingly; as much as it stung, and as much as the red-hot feeling that had settled in your body was uncomfortable, why should you let it affect you? they weren't a threat, they were suburban moms - probably peaked in high school, probably relied off their husband's salary, probably thought they were better than each and every person they came across.
you could be annoyed, but you weren't worried. the bigger picture, you had what they wanted; you had aaron. you've already won, despite any fights they attempted to pick.
"i need to stretch my legs." the same woman abruptly said, loudly to gain your interest.
she promptly rose, walking towards the team's bench. or more specifically, right up to aaron.
she was quick to strike up a conversation with him - overdramatizing her already-shrill laugh, displaying open body language, the sweetest smile she could muster up.
what did you in, a 'friendly' touch to his arm before she retreated, whenever she finished saying whatever the hell was so important she had felt the need to interrupt his coaching for.
and throughout such, aaron appeared as his typical friendly self as he engaged with her, as expected. although a look of confusion did flash across his face when she graced his arm.
your jaw clenched in anger, but you kept reminding yourself: her actions were just to spite you, just to piss you off, and you refused to give her the reaction she seemingly so desperately craved.
so when she returned, with an awfully smug look plastered on her face and dropping into her chair with a sense of pure satisfaction, you kept your focus forward. you came to watch jack's game, and that's exactly what you were going to do.
but during the mid-game break, once aaron had finished talking with the kids and they sprinted back onto the field to practice some goals, did you approach him.
"hi sweetheart," aaron mumbled into your skin as he kissed your temple, one of his hands comfortably finding your back. "enjoying the game?"
you nodded, offering him a timid smile.
"what's wrong?"
"nothing." you lied, tucking yourself into his chest. you took a deep breath and sighed, smelling the traces of light sweat and grass clinging to him.
"you don't think i buy that, do you?" he asked, a gentle, almost comical tone to his words - all to lighten up your present tension. "what is it?"
you shook your head, "i don't want to talk about it..." your eyes shot over to your new best friends, whose eyes were glued to the two of you. "here."
aaron glanced over at them, profiling immediately. "are they giving you a hard time?"
after a moment's hesitation, an annoyed huff escaped you. "let's just say they're not too happy that the coach is taken."
"what?" aaron laughed breathlessly, his face scrunching the smallest amount in confusion. "half of them are married."
"clearly that doesn't matter, they're still over there undressing you with their eyes." you arched an eyebrow, the scowl on your face only deepening.
"c'mon, you're too pretty to make that face." aaron lightly teased, kissing your pout gently. at the touch, your face did relax, the ends of your lips itching to turn upwards into a smile.
"oh they're gonna hate that you did that."
aaron shrugged, kissing you again. "let them."
you surrendered yourself to your smile, but you still frustratedly crossed your arms in front of your chest. "it's ridiculous."
aaron was quick to untangle your hands, holding onto them and applying a gentle squeeze. "you know you don't have competition. you have me."
"i know. that's why i feel so stupid i'm letting it bother me." you gritted through your teeth. "what did that one woman even say to you?"
"truthfully, i couldn't tell you. i wasn't paying attention." he answered honestly, his eyebrows drawing into a line as he even attempted to mentally recall it.
you couldn't help but laugh, pressing yourself more into him. "you're insufferable."
"i try." aaron joked, but his expression switched tactics, to genuine concern as he moved in front of you, "in all seriousness, are you going to be okay?"
"yeah." you brought your hands to his chest, running your thumbs against his pecs affectionately. you already were. "i have you, don't i?"
"and you could always stay here with me." aaron playfully, but earnestly offered. "and be my beautiful, thoughtful, astounding, beautiful assistant coach."
"you drive a hard bargain," your eyebrows rose, feeling his chuckle underneath your fingers. "but it's okay. i'm not gonna let them think they're running the show, or that they can step on me like that." you shook your head. "and as needed, i might have to flaunt you around."
aaron grinned, proudly. "that's my girl."
1K notes · View notes
Note
I have been waiting for this! This has been stuck in my head since you mentioned how there's too many werewolf x bunny fics.
Imagine there's a village of prey hybrids. All the villagers that live there are some kind of prey animal.
The village is very peaceful, but is the target of a tribe of predator hybrids that dwell in the deepest part of the forest.
Every year, these predator hybrids would attack the prey village and would kidnap any villager unlucky enough to be caught.
These attacks typically happen around mid to late spring, from dusk to well into the night.
The prey villagers always hide around this time, but at least one to three people end up being taken.
Last year was one of the reader's friends. A sweet little sheep that was said to be taken by a large male black wolf. Poor girl was likely eaten by that horrible beast! (In a way she was eaten~)
This year, it is reader's turn.
Reader is a deer hybrid that got caught while out gathering food in the forest. Only to be jumped by a strong and handsome male mountain lion hybrid and taken back to his tribe.
There reader finds her friend as well as other people from her village, all well and alive and with large clearly pregnant bellies as well as a few children.
Turns out the predator tribe has been taking people from your village as their mates. Even treating their prey mates with the utmost care.
Something the reader will understand fully once she's been bred with her first litter of cubs.
your parents had always warned you to be careful when you left the safety of the village, especially during spring when nearby predators would go into heat and kill little deer girls like you to feed to keep up their strength. You were so careful, the fastest in the herd, the best at running away, no predator could ever catch you....other people weren't so lucky. Every year a few people would go missing, trail too close to the border, stay out foraging after sunset, and disappear.
Most of the time, you don't know the prey who gets taken, but sometimes you do, like when your best friend got dragged off by a horrifying wolf. You grieved the loss of your friend and redoubled your commitment to safety... but you got cocky. you were the fastest in your age group, no one could catch you, especially not some heavy, slow predator.
It's a warm spring evening, the breeze gentle and sweet, smelling like honeysuckle and green grass. the sunsets casting the valley in golden light, your basket is full of fat wild blackberries. how could anything go wrong on a day like this? A twig snaps to your right, and you turn and freeze, looking carefully at the tree line. you don't see anything... but your heart is still racing, by the time you spot the hungry green eyes peering up at you it's already too late. you take off running, but for once, you aren't fast enough.
The mountain lion pounces and lifts you off of your feet, throwing you easily over his broad shoulders, you freeze, your heart beating faster and faster, you need to think, he hasn't killed and eaten you yet- maybe you could escape, you just need to keep your head.
It's a much shorter journey to the preditor village than you would have thought, you'd never traveled far from home so you had no idea that they were so close this whole time. What's even more surprising is the amount of prey animals, wandering around town and looking happy. A rabbit boy with big floppy ears hanging off the arm of a buff-looking wolf, a deer hybrid like yourself flirting with two different lions, and a sheep- a sheep that you recognize. Your eyes go wide as it clicks into place. the people being taken weren't being killed at all.
The mountain lion puts you down and looks at you closely, evaluating you. "I wasn't too rough was I? You're not hurt?" he asks. you shake your head slowly
"n-no. I'm not hurt just- scared," you admit shyly. He nuzzles you comfortingly,
"awe, don't worry my mate, I'll keep you safe... I won't let anything happen to you, no one else will touch you while you're with me," he purrs and you shift, embarrassed to tell him that it was him you were afraid of. although you had to admit if this big scary mountain lion is guarding you, and claiming you as their mate, you do feel a little safer.
1K notes · View notes
dilfsfordinner · 2 months
Text
a/n- i might have severe baby fever, idk.
pairing- husband toji x fem!reader
——————————————————————————
Contrary to his name literally meaning “blessing”, Megumi was nothing short of a curse during bath time. He absolutely hated it, and he made it his tiny life’s mission to make sure his parents dreaded it as well.
“Megs, please just.. work with me here,” Toji pleaded, exhaustion brewing inside of him, his hands desperately trying to keep the squirming child before him tame.
You’d gone to run some errands, leaving Toji to attempt bath time alone, his previous confidence shriveling into nothingness the second he heard little Megumi cry as soon as he was dunked into the warm water. At three months old, he was the perfect child, quiet and happy, tame in every aspect of life, a fact that seemed to be nothing but false when Toji was the one left in charge of watching him.
Toji didn’t even think it possible for something to cry as much as Megumi did without passing out, but he had been proven wrong before, the wriggling thing in his hands wailing his heart out to try and convince his dad to let him out. “I’m sorry baby, but you did this to yourself,” he huffed, gently rubbing bubbles along his son’s belly, tiny feet kicking water up at him, Megumi clearly trying to escape the horror of his nightly bath.
You see, Toji would feel bad for his baby had he not been the cause for the bath in the first place, the mashed carrots he had for dinner ending up smeared down his face and front, far from the target of his mouth. Said carrots began to fade away from the whimpering Megumi’s skin, turning the water into a soapy orange. His little body fit perfectly in Toji’s large hands, the newborn scrunch still apparent as baby Megs’ legs squished up to his belly in a useless attempt at kicking his dad’s fingers away.
The crying problem only escalated as soon as Toji introduced a washcloth into the picture, Megumi squealing, kicking and writhing with so much force, he might as well have been a full-grown adult.
Without your seemingly ‘all-knowing’ insight when it came to parenting, Toji rushed to find his own solution, grabbing a used bottle of soap that appeared to be extremely bubbly, hurriedly pumping out the liquid into the water filled basin, praying that the mysterious substance would somehow, someway, quell the curse possessing his son.
It was almost as if Megumi was hypnotized or something, because the instant the familiar smell of his mother hit his nose, his screaming cries died down to nothing but little babbles, coos leaving him in a low, comfortable purr. You see, it wasn’t just any old soap bottle. No, it was the soap you had used to bathe Megs the night after you’d come home from the hospital after giving birth. Toji remembered just how surreal and peaceful the night was, so he could understand why the familiar scent would coax his baby into a severe bout of relaxation.
Finally quitting his incessant wriggling, Megumi relaxed in Toji’s hold, the smell of the soap slowly coaxing him into a sleepy state, his little nose wrinkling and eyelids occasionally fluttering open and closed. Toji hadn't noticed before but his tiny fingers began to wrap around his pinky finger, holding onto it in a playful manner.
“hm-” Toji hummed, finally understanding the cause of his son’s untamable mood. “You just miss mama, huh?” he murmured, gentle as he picked up a sponge, running the soft material along the cooing baby’s chest and belly, sudsing up his little body, taking advantage of the sleepy mood that seemed to come over the boy.
“Yeah.. me too,” was all Toji could think to say, honestly relating to the fit his son had thrown over missing his mother, Toji feeling the same way but without the screaming and crying to show it. Finishing his gentle cleansing, Toji leaned down to press a kiss on the sleepy Megumi’s forehead. "Let’s get you to bed," he whispered, hand cupping some water to rinse him with before he gently lifted him to his chest, head resting against his shoulder.
It was a breeze the rest of the night, Toji falling victim to sleep as well, he and Megumi alike in a sense that they both enjoyed resting more than anything. The couch was the chosen spot, Toji lying shirtless against the large piece of furniture, Megumi’s blue, fuzzy onesie warm against his chest as they dozed off, a large hand resting against the tiny baby’s back, holding him safe and sound even while unconscious.
He couldn’t explain it, but being alone with his child, his baby, kindled a feeling of comfortability, of pure contentment, in his chest, he knew that no matter how untamable or stubborn or confusing Megumi could be at times, he would always be his son, his little curse of a blessing.
——————————————————————————
2K notes · View notes
suguru-getos · 3 months
Note
Hi En I had an idea which I can’t get off my mind it’s eating me alive it’s making me pounce on my pillow and screech wildly. Hear me out- bully Getou with a who did this to you moment 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨
oh my goddd ‼️ 🥵 this sounds like such a good idea, especially with bully!geto 🙈
-> who did this to you? — geto suguru
Tumblr media
summary: bully!sugu notices you were also becoming a target for others & kicks ass for you x (comments and reblogs are appreciated)
just because suguru thought he had free reign over you, so did another brat from his class. you were his junior after all and only satoru knew that he actually doted on you. suguru was getting restless for the day, he hasn’t seen his pretty little babygirl today. sure, he loves the look when your eyes try to evade eye contact from his stern gaze. when he says you need to be put in place for looking so delectable. when he teasingly calls you a little whore for suguru’s attention.
you deflected him so many times but his persistence has led to your ignorance. though he can’t find you anymore. his best friend satoru is quick though, “she’s near the store room hallway.” he hums, shrugging. why were you there? were you trying to run from suguru? he scoffed, pouting a little and ushering towards the known location.
finally, what he saw made his heart clutch a little. it’s december, you’re shivering from cold because someone had drenched your white shirt, your red bra is visible from it instantly and you hug yourself. you want to cry but you know that wouldn’t really help you. so you just sit there, shivering and spasming and knowing you’d catch a fever soon.
the echoes of his footsteps distract you instantly, you turned back, watching him and wanting to kill yourself. suguru would make such fun of you for being so miserable & looking so miserable. so weak and pathetic. “you think i did this for your attention too? yeah i did it, now leave me alone.” you managed to croak with your chattering teeth.
he hums, cupping your face and blood boiling when he found you cold. “let’s get you a blanket first, then you will go to the infirmary and change it. you’ll catch a cold and fall sick & we don’t want that do we? we have our exams soon, little girl.”
you can’t help but nod in affirmation, feeling a little taken cared of by him. though you think it was done by suguru… “yeah, don’t act like you didn’t ask your classmates to put ice cold water on me.” you were glossy eyed and felt pathetic. “you’ve let others joined in your-”
“who did this?” suguru was stern, almost unrelenting with the way his brows furrowed and his jaw tightened. you wince at the demeanour change and looked up at him, pouting with your glossed eyes.
“stop pretending-”
“i asked you something little one. who did this?” he asked once more, a little tender. “who did this to you?”
you parted your lips to finally mumble that you infact, don’t know who these people were. you have seen them around satosugu and hence you know they are his classmates. suguru sighs, his rage knew no bounds. his pretty little girl only he could bully, was taken lightly because of his behavior. he hums, carrying you princess-style, as a statement that you’re not to be fucked with. the most popular guy in school was whipped and carrying you as if you were his prized possession. the school saw it, everyone saw it. you… saw it.
you had time to change and when you were done, satoru brought you hot chocolate, smiling and headpatting you. “yer going to be fine little girl. i know suguru wouldn’t let anyone irritate ya! only us!” he grins, sitting beside you.
“now, he’s gone to bring all the bastards and bootlickers around us, so you can recognize them and let us deal with it, easy? no?” satoru smiles, giving you some comfort as you nodded. “mm, yeah…”
and suguru did bring them, the people who did this to you looked terrified, the same way you felt around suguru in the beginning. only suguru never really gave you any reason to… you thought he’d hit you for rejecting him but he never did. never raised a voice on you. but yes; loomed around you, commented on your body, your face, everything… suguru was a piece of shit with morals. yeah — that’s how you’d label him.
you pointed at the guys who gave the mere explaination before getting their ass brutally whopped in front of you that they thought suguru did it, which gave them a free pass to. while their noses bled and they mumbled apologies from suguru’s kicks and sickly behavior of - “sorry, she can’t hear you.”
you heard him mumble, “she’s mine to toy with, you fuckers can’t touch her or i’ll rip your hands and legs out.” suguru geto was indeed, a piece of shit with morals.
2K notes · View notes
i-am-a-fish · 2 months
Text
Here are some of the ways that you can support Palestine
Attend protests:
Here is a link listing several protests. If you do not see a protest that you were planning to attend or if you would like to organize one, you can submit that information into this website. This is not the only website for finding protests, I recommend searching for this on your own, but this was the most prominent website I could find.
Be informed:
Here is an interview with Omar Barghouti, the founder of Palestinian Campaign for the Academic and Cultural Boycott of Israel.
This video contains no gore, has closed captions, and is well organized with a clear call to action. There are many videos and articles that should be watched and read, this is just one example.
youtube
Specifically at 29:44, Omar Barghouti explains what you can do as a viewer, though I believe the entire video should be watched.
Boycott:
In the previous video, Omar Barghouti explained that an economic boycott needs to be organized in order to incite change. Targeting your boycotts is an effective strategy that has worked in the past. Here is a website listing every company that is actively supporting Israel during the Palestinian genocide.
This list is regularly updated by the Article's author. Do not harass the customer service employees that are working at these places.
Be strategic and organized, there are many companies on this list. Boycott whatever you are able, and be vocal to these companies on social media, particularly on Twitter if you have an account. These companies care a lot about their reputation, and many of them may relent if called out on a large scale.
Donate:
This is Anera, they are credible non-profit. There are many other organizations, but this one in particular has been around since 1968, and donates 96% of revenue to Palestine, Lebanon, and Jordan.
This is a small list of resources to get started. Do research, be vocal, boycott, and donate if you are financially able to do so.
1K notes · View notes
dcxdpdabbles · 2 months
Text
Congratulations! It's Triplets. Part 3
@unadulteratedsoulsweets said: In Congratulations! It's triplets! As much the entire thing is so wholesome I wanna see some bit of angst. Imagine dis the entire family is out in public.Includes the Batfam, Jazz and the triplets for a huge family bonding activity. Some random person( a karen) commented on how Jazz is a teen mother, an irresponsible person, a whore... Etc (you know the usual comments of being a mother too young) and the Batfam reaches the conclusion that the Pit Rage transfers onto the kids as two of the triplets have already green glowing eyes with rage filling it by the second and ready to tackle/punch the person who made the comment but the last of the triplets have their other "siblings" by their collar but despite holding the two back they too have their eyes switching from blue to eery toxic green and was one second to join them to murder whomever bad mouthed Jazz
It's not that Jason didn't think that the Pit would only have repercussions in his life. He just always assumed it would only be his life.
He never considered the possibility that it would affect his offspring in any way. (Besides having a father that was completely mad in Pit Rage)
Maybe it was a pipe dream to think that or maybe it was just having hope that his messed up second life had already been hard enough so the universe was going to give him a break on this one.
The three small children currently growling at a reporter, eyes flashing in and out of green, told him that wasn't the case.
It had started off as a fun little day out. Jazz and the kids mainly kept to themselves in Wayne Manor. Bruce had housed them in the west Annex, a place usually only used when guests of high importance would stay in the Manor's history.
It came complete with its own kitchen, bathroom, sitting room, seven bedrooms, and three bathrooms. It even had its own entrance that usually stayed out of sight of the main gate- a compelling feature for Jazz, who didn't want her kids in the limelight until everything legal was settled.
The distance between the two buildings was one acre, giving the family of four the privacy they needed and keeping them close for Jason to get to know.
As far as Jason knew, Jazz had not revealed the father of her children to anyone.
As far as the world knew, Jazz had recently moved to temporary housing until her insurance could help her rebuild her house or, if she was at a total loss, find new housing.
Thankfully, no one thought it strange as they weren't the only ones displaced. Poison Ivy's latest Save the Earth stunt targeted overpopulated neighborhoods guilty of destroying the land to build upon (in her own words).
She returned the favor and broke down the buildings to give back to the Green. Never mind the people inside the buildings or the livelihoods she destroyed in progress.
Ivy had gone through five streets before the Bats stopped her and returned her to Arkham Asylum.
It's been a week since the incident. Jason hasn't seen much of his kids, not for the lack of trying, but it was hard to fit their schedules. The three were in school most of the day, and when they got out, Jason usually had to run to prepare his "nightly" job.
He couldn't just slack off- doing so would mean those scum bags that didn't directly work for Red Hood would think that they could get away with breaking his rules.
He had slowly been dividing his responsibilities among his men- drug dealing, weapon dealing, illegal car races, prostitution, and protecting kids and street workers- so that he could have one night off without worrying.
That didn't mean he didn't see his kids at all. Jason usually had two hours a day with them, where he tried his best to connect to his kids, but the triplets seemed weary of him.
He could tell they didn't feel comfortable with him invading their space, so he tried to stay outside the annex. As someone who worked a lot with street kids, he knew never to break the sense of safety their hiding holes were to them.
Instead, he decided to meet his children in the open space between the Annex and the Manor.
The four-five with Jazz casually reading on the Annex floating balcony. Jason pretended not to notice she was doing so to keep an eye on her kids- would sit down at the garden table to have an after-school snack, enjoying the multiple rose bushes nearly as tall as him that Alfred cared for.
It was always one of Jason's favorite Wayne gardens because it often made him think of magical castles with giant mazes and lovely scattered flowers.
He noticed that his eldest- Dan- might have felt the same, given how the boy would sometimes spread his arms and run through the rose bushes pathways. He even picks up sticks and plays knights against invisible enemies.
(Jason pretended he was a knight in these gardens when Bruce first took him in.)
Danny, his second, seems more interested in lying underneath the rose bushes and reading about the stars. If Gotham had clearer skies, he think his boy would be a cat napping in the sunlight and sitting around at night to glance at the starlights.
His daughter seemed even more adventurous than her brothers. She often would test Jazz's patience because she wandered away from the Annex garden to explore the others. Jason had seen her climb statues and trees to get a better viewpoint, marking whatever she saw on a little map.
He got a look at her map and felt his heart swell at the childish little drawings- Damian's painting corner in the east Garden was now "Artist Alley", the south garden had a dragon fountain so Dani had decided it was "Dragon Keep" and she had found the north floating balcony where Bruce liked to go practice his not so secret love of singing.
Dani had marked her map as "Siren's Side" with a cute little drawing of Bruce singing.
The more he learned about his three kids, the more Jason loved them.
Jazz wasn't kidding when she said she didn't mind him in their lives- she was just worried that he would try to take them, and with his money and connections, she wouldn't be able to stop him. Her worry bled into the three children, and with intelligent eyes that belied their five years of age, they would watch him with guarded caution.
The moment they would finish their snack, the three would make excuses to run off and do their own thing. Jazz would continue reading, but Jason wouldn't be a Bat if he didn't see the way she relaxed whenever the kids left the table.
It was rough....to want to be accepted by them but also understanding why a random man wanting a family connection would be difficult to establish.
That's why Jazz's suggestion that they all visit the zoo had been such a shock. She gave Jason a strained smile, but her eyes were soft. For a moment, Jason felt his heart skip a beat. "It would be nice for the kids to see the zoo with their...dad."
The five had headed to the zoo- with Bruce and the rest following behind in disguises because they are all nosy assholes. He had gotten so used to the clicking of Tim's camera- as his brother was over-excited to capture his nephews' and niece's first zoo outing- that he hadn't realized a second camera was following them.
They had just finished watching the penguins swim when Danny tugged on the leg of his pants. "Mr. Dad, sir. Can I tell you something?"
Jason's heart jumped. Is Danny starting to like him? Sure, he put Mr and Sir, but he called him Dad! Grining widely he kneed down to get to his level.
"What up, bud?"
Danny leaned in to whisper in his ear. "There is a man taking pictures of me in the bushes."
Usually, Jason would have told him something like, "Tim is weird, but he's harmless." However, he knew for a fact Tim was on the roof of the Penguin exhibit and that meant some random man was taking pictures of his kid.
Green bleeds into his vision slowly, and Danny jerks back, surprised by the sight. "Go with your mother-"
"Pervert in the bushes!" Dan's voice cuts Jason off. They both turn to the little five-year-old throwing stones into the surrounding bushes and a man stumbling out of them with a shout. "Pervert in the bushes"
Danny facepalms, which is not the reaction his son should have. How in the world did Dan even know the word pervert?
"Dan! What on earth are you doing!?" Jazz screams alarmed. She raced back, a tray with four ice cream cones in her hands, and Dani, not far behind, also carrying her own cone. The girls had gone to get some frozen treats for everyone not too long ago.
The man turns to her with a very familiar predatory glint in his eye. Shit, Jason knows who he is. He is a paparazzi and one of his kids called him dad in front of the stranger.
The man takes Jazz's picture, momentarily blinding her with the flash, before firing questions and taking more pictures of her reaction to each one, "Miss, are you the baby momma of Bruce Wayne? Or one of his many kids? How did it feel to be a mother so young? Were your intentions to get pregnant to have access to the Wayne Will? How much money did the Wyanes pay you for a night?"
What?
Jazz's eyes go wide, her face drained of blood, and she looks frozen in fear. "I don't-why would- I'm not!"
"Not a whore or not a gold digger?"
"Neither!" Her voice wabbles like she's about to break into tears.
Jason sees green. He is about to beat the disgusting pig to the ground but his children are faster. Dani races forward, little arm pulled back and throws her whole body into a jab at the paparazzi's manhood.
The man drops his camera in a wheeze. Dan smashes it with another stone, hitting the lens five times just to make sure it is broken and starts to advance at the man.
Dani is currently yelling at the top of her lungs, swearing, and punching the man with her belt buckle wrapped around her knuckles. It's satisfying to watch- his kids beating down a full-grown man with no training, just vicious righteousness to protect their mother.
That is, until Danny- the apparently more level-headed triplet pulls them both off by the back collar of their shirts. Jason sees it for the first time.
The kids eyes are glowing green.
Horror creeps into every part of his mind, and he doesn't even realize the creep is screaming about suing them or Tim and Bruce's fantastic entry to get a handle on the situation.
He is distantly aware of Steph and Cass, helping a silently crying Jazz walk away, and that Dick, Damian, Duke, and Harper form a protective circle around the kids, but it's Cullen that realizes Jason is frozen.
"Jason? Are you alright?"
No, he is not alright.
Pit's madness ruined his life. It left blanks in his memory. Left him lashing out and killing quickly. It makes him attack Tim and others. It made the child Jason used to be, feel sick and revolted.
It made it hard to look in the mirror and not be disgusted. It was everything that was wrong with him since the Joker took all his innocence away with his blasted crowbar.
Pit Madness is a curse that he has to live with sometimes where he claws at his own skin in a pathetic attempt to get away from it. But he could never escape its taunting whispers, its controlling green, or its presence sitting somewhere behind his eyes that turned him into a monster.
A curse he gave to his children.
He truly is Wills Tod's son, isn't he?
1K notes · View notes
natdu · 4 months
Note
Could you make an idea where Bokuto, Iwaizumi, and Suna,Wakatoshi find out that Readers had a crush on them in the past.
Hey love sure I can ^^ my pleasure
I only did 3 characters (*¯︶¯*) (it's more about length than anything) oh and you didn't specify the genre so I took some liberties there
Pairings (separate): Timeskip! Ushijima, Bokuto & Iwaizumi x Fem! Reader
Prompt: They find out you had a crush on them in the past
Genre: Angsty (barely there), crack, fluff
Warnings & content: Grammar - cursing- kinda short ugh - Honorifics - Argentinian Tooru 🤌🏻 - Reader is Oikawa's sister on Iwa's
Tumblr media
Ushijima Wakatoshi
"A ton of girls had crushes on you Wakatoshi"
"I find that.... Non probable"
"No no, he's right"
Since Ushijima had finally spare time on his busy schedule he could meet with some of his former teammates and still friends.
Stories came and went, memories, little inside jokes. And finally, the subject of high-school or college crushes, first loves, you name it, came into conversation
"Shirabu probably had more fans in that aspect?"
"With that bowl cut?!?!"
"Because he's a med student you dumbass!"
"No need to yell Semi Semi"
"Stop that!"
"Now now uh.... Wakatoshi are you alright?"
Ushijima looked like he had a revelation or rather as he was depicting some big enigma
"How would those people act when having a crush... On me"
Both of the once spiky haired friends looked at each other, one more amused than the other
"Well it depended on the person Wakatoshi-kun. Some of them were more shy and looked at you from the bleachers"
"I saw one being bolder and leaving some notes on your locker, you never told us about it so we let it go"
Ah yes, notes. Little notepads or post it mainly in green with encouragement words, compliments to his appearance, to his devotion to the sport and so on
"The notes one... I.... I know her"
A dual toned of a "What?!?!" screeched comically to the sky
And there was a sudden change in the vibes of the café you were sitting down, as you felt a shiver running through your spine
"Who's talking shit about me?"
"No one geez. Get to work, we're under the deadline you have to move" Your co-worker said with a whine. You both had taken your laptops to keep on track as the official time at the office wasn't enough
Thankfully you were at least enjoying a little treat before arriving home to deploy into your bed and sleep like a bear but....
People around couldn't help to notice 3 tall grown men, one in rock-punk attire, another with a red buzzcut and THE Ushijima Wakatoshi
Safe to say you're quite clueless when tired and tasting a late night iced coffee with double whipped cream
"That's her?"
"How do you know her?"
Ushijima sighed and didn't take off his gaze from you as he wrote down on something that was in his hands
"She works in the monthly volleyball magazine... We kind of have been finding each other even after school"
"Soooo a sports journalist, nice Wakatoshi-kun, oh?"
The tease didn't reach Ushijima's ears as he was walking up to you with an unusual shy stance and with the something he wrote on clutched in his big hands
He was practically at your nose when you noticed his presence, and his extended hand with a pink post it
"Ushijima?"
"May I give back those words you sent to me?"
Cue two (three with your coworkers) distand gasps and chuckles, in synch to the memories that flew to your mind
"What words do you - Ohhhhh right....."
You coughed awkwardly
"Umm do you know what those meant? Like what little me wanted to achieve?"
Ushijima nodded and sat down by your side with a look you recognised
The one he had when he targeted a place to spike, a goal
"I understand now, quite shamefully.... But the intention is now, I hope, the same"
Your brain stopped working and the only sight was of 16 year old you giving up and just delivering Ushijima the notes in person, not caring since his reaction was always the same: A soft "Thank you, I'll work hard" and sometimes a pat on your head
You were sure your feelings weren't reciprocated. And while it hurt a little, you didn't stop giving the little snippets of your puppy love, just wanting him to feel cared of, feel loved even...
So imagine your poor heart when you saw the post it
A little wobbly heart and a "I liked you too, I still do"
And when you glanced at him you couldn't suppress the palpitations and heat over your face. As if you were a teenager over again
Ushijima wasn't at a better state.
He remembered himself, fixed on his first love: the court and the feeling of victory. He knew you were special to him and vice versa, after all, who would spend so many ink and paper on him? He appreciated the gestures and the fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach, he thought it was because your words were always sincere, without a second intention, he liked that. That was all, he swore
But like some sort of cinematic flashback he realised how many other people made known their affection for him, and while he had noticed them he never felt the same as with yours.
Guess some form of love was what he felt everytime he saw your gifts, even after when he saw you on your classroom or club room. Almost as when he played volleyball with his dad on his little backyard
Adult Ushijima wanted to smack his poor oblivious self, even his self of half an hour ago. Alas it was too late to be at the end of your fondness
"You can always pretend this didn't happen-"
He said, as a way to save you from the embarrassment
But it was your turn to surprise him, as you interrupted him
"Over my dead body"
You saw him smile at your dramatic answer and when he was about to grab your hand your coworker dissipated the little glittery pink atmosphere you had
"Hey earth to my friend? Sorry Ushijima-san I need her to finish this. After that she's all yours"
Safe to say you worked faster than ever with the new hope sown into your heart and the pinky holding yours under the table
Bokuto Kōtaro
Right now the only thing your mind could be concentrated on was the way Bokuto stuffed down your batch of muffins. His squirrel like cheeks making you giggle internally, you couldn't believe this hunk of a man would be enjoying your work so much
"They're always so good! I swear you make the best comfort pastries here!"
You hummed as you gently swiped some of the crumbs plastered on his cheeks "Glad to see they bring such much joy Bokuto-san"
"You sound just like Akaashi, just Bokuto is fine really"
"I refuse to. Remember, it's like we met again"
It was somewhat true. You've had met on a Fukorodani vs Nekoma practice match and while you were cheering for your own team the one who caught your eye was the opposite team's ace.
Crushing on him wasn't difficult
The difficult part was to go up to him and confess. As emotionally intelligent as he was, it seemed like his ability died when you were on his ratio
You gave him a letter on the training camp "Oh thanks for the support! I love encouraging notes!"
Gave him something for valentines, when you sneaked out of school to deliver it "D'awww you didn't have to. I'll share these with the team, there's a lot!"
At one point you just decided to stop. Fortunately at the same time you both graduated and, since you wouldn't follow volleyball steps, you didn't think you would find him again
Except you did, when he was broader, more cheerful, more mature.... Even more handsome.
The little bakery escapade leadered by Hinata ended up in your heart feeling the same twisting motion you did on your cinnamon rolls.
And now you're here, after some months were Bokuto had spent quite literally all of his free time with you. He didn't even eat in all his visits, which you thanked since you didn't want to be on the watch list of his nutritionist
"All of this starting again and stuff, why?"
Golden eyes now watching into your very soul. One that was still yearning
"It's silly Bokuto-San...."
And what's best for the weak of heart than to let go? You're an adult after all, you should be able to talk about feelings and high-school crushes without feeling overwhelmed
"I liked you when we were at school so I wanted a fresh start, a new me that wouldn't be so head over heels for you" you tried to entone in a playful manner
Yeah that's it, this would give you the closure your heart needed
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?"
Was the slight exasperation from Bokuto's mouth
"H-huh?"
You were kinda used to his sudden outburst of energy, his expressions of sadness, pride everything else. But this, this was raw pain
His hands were gripping his hair, almost hurting the scalp. And you almost jump on your seat when he let out a heartbreaking whine
"I had the fattest crush on you since I met you" he then cursed softly and hid his face on his hands, his hair going automatically down
"I messed up, didn't I? Why would you be trying to fall out of me? Oh I swear to-" he continued his ramble, loud enough to scape through his fingers
"Bokuto-San"
You called once
"Bokuto"
Then twice
And at the third time his words were almost materializing in the air and clouding the view
"Kōtaro"
Oh that did the trick, his hands on his thighs and his full attention on you
"Y-yeah?"
Were those tears on his eyes? No, never mind, why did he ignored your confessions if he liked you too? You needed answers
"I think I was rather obvious back then, why didn't you say anything?"
His eyes widened once again and grimaced as he let his head hit the table
"I thought you were just being kind and nice" he turned his face and looked at you "Thought you liked Yaku, you know? He seemed more like your type than me" the last part said with a pout
And with the confusion resolved you giggled at you both's naiveness and placed your palm against his chin, taking his face away from the table
"Well, I never gave Yaku a love letter or a basket full of home made pastries for valentines"
"Oh" was his answer as he looked down to the floor with a sheepish expression
"Oh" You mirrored and left a tentative kiss on his cheek. A kiss that made him recover the color of his face and the glint of his eyes
"Is this another way to start again?"
"mmm?"
"Cuz I'd love to take you on a date"
Iwaizumi Hajime
"Iwa-chanIwa-chanIwa-chan"
"God dammit what do you want Oikawa?"
"Le gustabas a mi hermana cuando estábamos en el colegio"
"What the hell is that suppose to mean?!"
Ah yes, another day of Oikawa saying stuff to Iwaizumi in full spanish just to leave him hanging on the meaning. Typical Monday evening at the Oikawa household when he came to visit
"I might ruin your source of income for when you ruin your knees and shoulders"
"And that is?"
"Your face"
Oikawa faked a faint and rested his head on Iwa's shoulder
"Oh poor me with all my money, and my fans y los sobrinos que me hubieras dado si fueras más atento"
"I swear to every good thing on heaven that if you don't tell me what on God's earth that means-"
"Hajime"
Bingo, you could answer his questions. You were Oikawa's little sister and when you finished high school you followed your brother steps to Argentina, being a tad bit more fluent than him even mastering the accent
"Is Tōru making fun of you again?" You giggled as you pushed your brothers face out of his bicep
Yeah, you were sweeter but still an Oikawa. A tease, a menace and the source of pain of his heart
Fuck the cliché of falling for your best friend's sibling. Iwaizumi swore to every deity it wasn't funny, might as well make him fall for a celebrity that studied in the same school, at least his delusions wouldn't be fed everyday
You teased the living lights out of him, but most of your shenanigans were directed at Oikawa so it was a weird alliance between the two of you.
And he couldn't help but hope. You didn't give home made meals to the whole team, just him.... And Oikawa, sometimes the whole Seijoh four.... Yeah that crosses it out
Or when you let him rest his head on your lap--Ah shit you did that with Kyotani once, mostly because his dog had died but nothing else
Hugs? You were physically affectionate with everyone and that just doubled when you went abroad
Special attention? You were basically the non official manager for them and the president of your class, you gave attention to everyone
Third year Iwaizumi concluded his attraction for you was a cruel destiny's game
At least he had your friendship
"I just need you to translate something your idiotic brother has been saying to me"
"Iwa-chan rude!"
"Ah the magic word Hajime"
Seriously?
"Ple-"
"No Hajime, how I taught you"
He just rolled his eyes but a smirk set on his lips
"Por favor"
Oikawa looked like that meme/gif cat who's in shock moving their face around as he hear the soft not so foreign words
"You little traitor you've been teaching him stuff!? IDIOTA!"
Iwaizumi lost your focus as you started bickering with Oikawa, until a tiny eeny secret was dropped
"Why do you care so much Tōru!?"
"I just told him you liked him!"
What. In Iwaizumi's voice
What. In your voice
Mierda. In Oikawa's voice
Tumblr media
I'm kind of a sucker for this trope, when it's reciprocated is super cute (ノ´ヮ`) (tho I feel my writing in this is wack)
Iwa's it's a bit of crack but like, it just flowed jsjs
Hope you're still there anon and that you like this huhu
Natdu
1K notes · View notes
promtease · 4 months
Text
Has anyone thought about how good Astarion would be at playing dead? Imagine the untapped potential?? The opportunities to just absolutely fuck with people?
No one would even need to expend a spell slot on feign death or anything. He could just lie down, hold his breath, and wait for a target to walk by and wonder "wait, what's this dead guy doing here?" and then WHAM! DAGGER TO YOUR ARTERY, LOSER.
The way you'd have to do your best to keep it together when he's lying there in the most dramatic of fashions. I just know if you ask this man to play dead (and he's in the rare mood to say yes) he is going to COMMIT. Limbs unnaturally askew like a ragdoll. Vacant staring (how does he get his pupils to dilate like that?). Maybe a bit of tongue hanging out if the mood strikes. It'd be a little eerie to see him like that if it also wasn't so damn funny.
The last time he went along with your silly little plans, it almost went terribly wrong.
In a rather strange turn of events, a small group of children find him before the target can. You take a chance and stay in your hiding place, silently willing these poor kids to go back to wherever they came from before your vampire loses his patience and does something rash...
The way one of the children immediately grabs the nearest stick and starts poking at Astarion. Vigorously. They're not even gentle, either. It's almost like they're hoping candy will spill out somewhere if they're aggressive enough. You can only watch as this goes on for a good minute or two (i mean you could have stopped them in hindsight, but part of you really wanted to see what would happen if you didn't.) before he finally snaps.
The vampire sits up quick as a wink, lips pulled back to expose his bloodied fangs (that absolute jerk bit the inside of his cheek till it bled just to appear more frightening), hands more like claws as he feigns swiping at one of their ankles. The snarl he lets out is so devious it makes the hairs on your arm stand on end. The kids all turn tail, wails high-pitched to an earsplitting degree as they trip over each other in their scramble to get away.
The smug grin on Astarion's handsome face should not be as endearing as it is as he watches them leave. After a moment, he straightens out his clothes a bit and readjusts his position on the ground, then proceeds to get right back to playing the part of a perfect, pretty corpse.
Not before he chucks that stick the kids were using to torment him in the direction of your stifled laughter as a clear "fuck you" for not helping him, though.
1K notes · View notes
ginnsbaker · 8 months
Text
Bulletproof
Tumblr media
Summary: You're the only Avenger who sleeps in a cell. | Series Masterlist
Word count: 2.9k+ | Tags: Mild Angst, Fluff, Sharing A Bed, Enemies to Lovers
Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader
Requested by anon:
could i maybe request wanda x r where the whole team kinda mistreats them and wanda is especially bad. & r saving wanda on a mission, with this: wanda: “How'd you know you were bulletproof?" r: "I didn't. I just knew that you weren't."
Author's note: Thank you to the anon who requested this :) Not sure if this is exactly how you wanted it, but I had fun writing the battle (my first time!) Hope you don't mind I took some liberties ;) Takes place before Civil War.
--
“You don’t have to be so mean to them,” Natasha tells her. 
Wanda's eyes narrow as she continues to fixate on you, her glare seemingly willing the daggers to find their mark. You can sense the energy of her powers tingling in the air, but she maintains control, stopping the daggers just short of their target.
“They need to know what they’re up against,” Wanda retorts, her accent slipping through in a rare moment. “If they’re going to be one of us, they have to prove themselves.”
Natasha moves to stand between you and Wanda, her body language calm but assertive. “They will, in time. But not like this.”
You can feel your heart pounding, but you refuse to let Wanda see any fear in your eyes. Your choice to leave your former life and join this team wasn't made lightly, and you won't be intimidated.
“I'm right here,” you say, stepping forward. “And I'm not going anywhere. If you want to test me, do it properly.”
Wanda smirks, and the daggers drop to the floor, clattering loudly in the silence. “Impressive,” she says, almost as an afterthought.
Steve Rogers, observing from the sidelines, steps in to defuse the situation. His authoritative presence commands respect, and his voice is steady and even. “That's enough for today. We're a team, and we need to start acting like one.”
He looks at you, his eyes filled with understanding but also a hint of caution. “However,” he continues, his tone shifting, “You'll still be sleeping in the cells.”
Your heart plummets, each word from Steve feeling like a blade to your chest. Being sent back to that room, devoid of windows, with only a tiny bed and a comforter too thin to ward off the chill, feels like a betrayal every time. You've spent nights there, shivering and reflecting on your decision to join this team, yet still, you find yourself confined.
“After several months of captivity, even cooking your dinner, you still don't trust me?” you ask, trying to keep the hurt out of your voice.
Steve's expression softens, but his resolve remains firm. “It's not about trust,” he says quietly, his voice carrying a weight of experience and pain. “We've been crossed so many times before, mostly by former HYDRA agents.”
Like you, he doesn’t need to say.
You understand the logic, but it doesn't make the reality any easier to swallow. The sense of being an outsider, the cold isolation of the cells—it wears on you.
Wanda, who had been silent up to this point, suddenly speaks up. “Maybe you should just leave then. If it's so unbearable, why stay?”
The room goes quiet. 
A thousand retorts spring to your mind, but you swallow them down, unwilling to escalate the situation further. The temptation to throw back that it's rich coming from her, considering she's also a former footsoldier of HYDRA, is strong, but you bite your tongue. 
You look at her, stunned by the bluntness of her suggestion, but also recognizing the challenge in her eyes. 
Her words strike deeper than she may realize. Leaving isn't an option you've entertained, mainly because there's nowhere for you to go. No one left in your life to turn to. This makeshift “family” despite their reservation and distance, is all you have.
-
The days that follow are marked by a subtle but relentless isolation. 
In the training room, Wanda's partnership becomes more aggressive than usual. Her powers lash out without warning, her critiques sharp and cutting. You hold your own, but the lack of camaraderie is palpable. Each comment she makes stings, and with every barb, you feel more and more alone.
At meal times, the rest of the Avengers seem to be in their own world, deep in conversation, sharing stories, laughing. You sit at the end of the table, your presence barely acknowledged, a shadow among them. Your attempts to join in are met with curt replies or indifference. You try to brush it off, believing that you should be used to rejection by now. But no matter how much you tell yourself that you're accustomed to it, that you've developed a thick skin, the pain is still there, raw and fresh.
Mission briefings are no better. Your opinions and insights are consistently overlooked. You contribute where you can, but your ideas are dismissed without consideration. You are a tool, a means to an end, not a part of the team. The realization gnaws at you, festering in the pit of your stomach.
Casual encounters with the team become equally disheartening. Tony passes you in the hallway without so much as a glance. Natasha avoids eye contact. Bruce mumbles something noncommittal when you try to engage him in conversation. Steve's assignments are devoid of the warmth or encouragement he shows to everyone else.
Your cell becomes a constant reminder of your status, metaphor for how the entire team treats you. 
You’re both just a weapon and a first-aid kit at their disposal.
Wanda is relentless, her words sharp and her gaze cold. You have no idea why she treats you worse than any of them, why her manner towards you has turned so hostile. You don't understand why you get under her skin without even trying, why she seems to target you with a venom that feels deeply personal.
You were expecting that Wanda would be the one to understand what it feels like to be an outsider, given that you both share a common history as former HYDRA agents. 
As the days turn into weeks, the isolation wears you down. The walls of your cell seem to close in, and a growing determination to prove yourself begins to take hold. 
You'll show them all that you're more than just a disposable weapon.
But underlying that determination is a gnawing doubt, a fear that no matter what you do, it will never be enough to earn their respect, their trust, or their friendship. It's a lonely road, and for the first time, you begin to wonder if Wanda's earlier suggestion might hold some truth.
Perhaps it would be easier to leave.
-
It’s not like you know the extent of your abilities, but they bring you along the most dangerous missions for one thing:
Your healing ability.
On top of your martial arts training, you provide a sense of security to your teammates, knowing that you'll be there to heal them if they get hurt.
Now, you find yourself on one such mission, infiltrating a den of underground supers. These aren't ordinary criminals; they're mercenaries hired to carry out the dirty work of high-ranking government officials. It's a treacherous job, one filled with unknown risks, and you've been paired with Wanda for the operation.
As you and Wanda are attempting to escape, things take a turn for the worse. You find yourselves cornered in an alley, your escape route cut off by a group of armed thugs and a few individuals displaying unnerving superpowers.
Wanda takes on those with special abilities, her eyes glowing red as she unleashes her powers in a flurry of attacks. You, on the other hand, focus on the armed assailants, wielding two-handed pistols with expert precision. Bullets fly, and bodies fall as you both fight for your lives.
But in the midst of the chaos, you notice something that sends a chill down your spine. Snipers, perched on a nearby rooftop, taking aim at Wanda. Even with your healing abilities, you know that a precise shot to the head would be fatal.
“Wanda, get down!” you shout, but she's too engrossed in her battle to hear you. Your mind races, knowing that you have only seconds to act. 
Without a second thought, you turn and run towards Wanda, your body moving on pure instinct. Bullets whiz by your ear, but you keep going, your focus solely on reaching her before it's too late.
You leap into the air, positioning yourself between Wanda and the snipers just as they pull the trigger. 
You hear the distant release of the bullet, muted but deadly.
The world seems to slow down as you brace for the impact, only to feel the bullets bounce off your skin.
You land, unscathed, your mind reeling from the realization that you're bulletproof. But there's no time to dwell on it.
Wanda looks at you, her eyes wide with shock but also gratitude. “How did you–”
“No time!” you cut her off, urging her to keep fighting. “We have to get out of here!”
Wanda's eyes flare with a vivid scarlet as she zeroes in on the snipers in the vicinity. With a flourish of her hands, she uses her powers to locate each of their positions. A pulse of energy emanates from her fingertips, reaching out to the snipers' weapons, and within moments, the firearms disintegrate into dust, leaving the men defenseless.
Seeing an opening, you reach for Wanda's arm, your grip firm but not rough. There's no time to waste, and you start pulling her towards the exit, half running, half dragging her to safety. Her breath is warm on your neck, her body close to yours, as you weave through the maze of alleyways, your heart pounding in your chest.
Once you're at a safe distance, Wanda turns to you. “How'd you know you were bulletproof?”
“I didn't,” you admit, still in disbelief, and much to Wanda’s horror that you almost got yourself killed for her sake. “I just knew you weren't. And if those bullets got to you, I wouldn't be able to heal someone who's already dead.”
Wanda stares at you, her eyes searching your face as if she's trying to see something… deeper. Her lips part, like she wants to say something more, something that's just on the tip of her tongue but won't come out.
That's when you realize that you're still holding her arm, your bodies so close that you can feel her heartbeat. A flush of embarrassment washes over you as you become aware of the intimate proximity. Wanda clears her throat, a delicate, almost shy sound, and you immediately let go of her arm.
The silence that follows your sudden step back is heavy and awkward. You can't help but glance at the spot where your hand had been moments ago, still feeling the ghostly sensation of her arm beneath your fingers.
You look at Wanda, and she's looking back at you, her eyes wide and filled with something you can't quite name. 
And then, without warning, Wanda starts to laugh.
It's a soft, bubbling sound at first, almost as if she's surprised by it herself. Her laughter grows, becoming louder and more contagious, and you can't help but stare at her, your mouth agape, wondering if she's lost her mind.
“What's so funny?” you finally manage to ask.
Wanda wipes a tear from her eye, still chuckling. “I was just thinking,” she says, her nose scrunching, something you haven’t seen on her and you find it quite… adorable. “You're like a shield now. As effective as Steve's vibranium one, maybe even more so.”
The absurdity of the statement causes you to finally join in her laugh, and your heart seems to flutter at the sound of Wanda's glee.
“I don't know about that,” you say, trying to sound modest but unable to keep the smile off your face. “Steve's shield has a bit more style.”
“Oh, I don't know,” Wanda teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “There's something quite stylish about being bulletproof. And practical too.”
Was that a compliment?
You shake your head, still smiling, your previous awkwardness forgotten. You're not only pleased at the first light banter you've shared with a teammate but also smiling at something else, something that stirs deep inside you and that you're not quite ready to confront.
Your crush on Wanda Maximoff.
-
The toll of the day's event is weighing down on you and Wanda, but like every mission, you're required to report the details of the mission–successful or not. Your muscles are sore, your mind is weary, but the mission was a success, and you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.
Arriving back at the Avengers compound, you follow Wanda into the debriefing room where Steve is waiting. Wanda explains what happened, how you discovered your newfound ability, and saved her life. Her voice is filled with respect and something more, something warmer, as she recounts your bravery.
Steve's face lights up with pride. “You both did well today. I'm proud of how you handled yourselves out there.”
You exchange a glance with Wanda, waiting for something more, perhaps some acknowledgment of your change in status within the team, or even an upgrade to your sleeping quarters. But instead, Steve simply nods, his face turning serious. “Dismissed.”
Wanda's face falls, and you feel a sharp pang of disappointment. You start to retreat towards your cell, the cold, windowless room that's been your home for months, but Wanda's voice stops you in your tracks.
“Wait a minute, Steve,” she protests. “After all that's happened, after all Y/N has done for us, don't you think it's time for a change? A real room, perhaps?”
Steve looks between you and Wanda. You hold your breath, hoping for a reprieve from the isolation you've been feeling.
Finally, Steve sighs, his face softening. “Wanda, if it were up to me, Y/N would have their own room already. But it's not that simple,” he explains, his voice strained. “I still need to place an official request with Tony. He's the one who approves these things.”
You can hear the frustration in Steve's voice, and you realize that he's fighting for you, in his own way.
“Fine,” Wanda says, crossing her arms. “But this needs to be done quickly, Steve. It's not right.”
“I agree. I'll talk to Tony first thing tomorrow.”
As you turn to leave and retreat back to your cell, Wanda's hand on your arm stops you, and you look back at her, surprised by the action.
“Come with me,” she says. Without another word, she leads you towards her quarters. 
Your heart quickens at her words, and you follow her, trying to process what's happening. 
Is she really inviting you to stay in her room?
Once inside her quarters, the reality of the situation sinks in, and a nervous tension takes hold. Her room is filled with personal touches–little trinkets, photographs, her clothes all over the place–that provide glimpses into a life you've only seen from a distance. You feel like an intruder, momentarily paralyzed as you take in the intimacy of her space.
Wanda seems to pick up on your hesitation, her eyes narrowing as she studies you. A smirk plays on her lips as she teases, “Don't look so terrified. I won't bite.”
You chuckle at her remark. “Well, that's a relief.”
Wanda's eyes sparkle with amusement, and she moves further into the room, gesturing for you to follow. “Make yourself at home,” she says. She then goes to the closet and begins to pull out a spare pillow and blanket. “You'll be staying here with me until we sort out a room for you,” she says.
“Thanks, Wanda,” you say softly.
Without further comment, you move to make your bed on the floor, your movements deliberate and slow as you try to give her space and respect her privacy.
“What are you doing?” Wanda asks, her eyes widening as she realizes your intention.
“I'm just getting ready to sleep,” you explain, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I'm quite tired.”
“No, what are you doing on the floor?” she clarifies, a hint of disbelief in her voice. “You're sharing the bed with me.”
“I wouldn't want to impose,” you say, though the offer is tempting.
“You're not imposing,” Wanda assures you, her eyes sincere. “You've earned a proper bed, and I trust you.”
The word 'trust' hits you like a wave, and you feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes. 
Blinking them back, your voice cracks a little as you reply, “Thank you, Wanda. That means more to me than you know.”
“Good night, Y/N,” Wanda whispers, turning on her side to face you.
“Good night, Wanda,” you say, just as softly.
You both settle on the bed, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda uses her powers to switch off the light.
The softness of Wanda's bed is worlds away from the harsh, unforgiving mattress in your cell. You find yourself sinking into the plush comfort, every muscle in your body releasing the tension from the dangerous mission earlier. The scent of Wanda on the pillows only adds to the incomparable comfort they provide. The difference is staggering, and it contributes to you falling asleep much more quickly than you have in a long time.
In the middle of the night, you're stirred awake by the feeling of Wanda rolling closer to you. Her arm finds its way over your stomach, and her soft snores fill the room. Being ever alert, the small action wakes you, but as soon as you realize it's just Wanda, a smile forms on your face.
You lie there for a moment, taking in the warmth and the gentle pressure of her hand. A soft blush creeps up your cheeks as you place your hand over hers to keep it there.
You've become more than just teammates.
You've become friends.
And maybe, just maybe, something more.
3K notes · View notes