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#(anybody want a peanut?)
eluvianarts · 9 months
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The Princess Bride is a DnD campaign, you can't prove me wrong.
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biteable-pink-pixie · 7 months
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The whiiiimpering voice siiilllyyy.
Staying awake during math classes was a real struggle, didn't mind losing the struggle every now and then.
But I didn't even do the whimpering voice? I howled like a very scary wolf.
One mention of math is enough for me thank you!
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The Princess Bride: The Greek Novels
Sara, Luke, and Sam go on the greatest of adventures with The Princess Bride! Listen along as Sara delves into the fascinating world of the criminally underappreciated Greek novels, and everyone has a whale of a time with this classic film!
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zsazsagapoor · 1 year
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My bf is a foot taller than me and I’m desperate to convince him to do this Halloween costume with me this year
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july-19th-club · 9 months
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how to make a character who sucks so bad and nobody likes him but he is genuinely a good protagonist (good as in interesting, maybe on a rare day good as in decent but also, just like, an incredible jackass) . i need to make him worse i need to make him MEANER!
#i think the key to getting this kind of character right is that he can't try to be anybody's boss#that's not the fun and engaging kind of jackass that's just reminding the reader of all the bosses they've hated in their time#the engaging and likeable Guy Who Sucks So Bad is a loner who might CLAIM that he will take over the group or whatever and lead#but never actually has any intentions of doing so because part of the things he sucks re: is responsibility of any kind#he does however know that leaders dont like other people horning in on their territory so he will say things like#i'm gonna wreck your shit and then all your lackeys will follow ME! ouahahahahaha . despite having zero plans to follow up with that#the ideal engaging asshole protagonist is a rebel without a good cause: maybe he has a sad backstory; maybe he's just a dick#but if there's one thing about him you can count on it's that he is Opposed To Shit. doesnt matter what it is his primary entertainment#is picking a fight with it for no reason and then saying what the fuck ever i didn't care about it anyway (he didn't)#ideally this is all done in such a way that he is SEXY . but you'd never want to hang with him because he is deeply obnoxious#he is not bossy. he is not controlling. he is maybe even a bit of a wife guy except he hates everyone else and wants to make their day wors#because making someone else's day worse makes HIS day better . the ideal wife for him is the one from ordinary day with peanuts#by shirley jackson#and i have GOT to figure out a way to engineer this guy without copying examples of my favorite versions of him wholesale#i have the scaffolding. but because of my own confrontation-averse tendencies#im terribly concerned that i will never be able to actually make him the asshole he was born to be#q
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rachel-sylvan-author · 8 months
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"As You Wish: Inconceivable Tales from the Making of The Princess Bride" by Cary Elwes and Joe Layden book recommendation by Rachel Sylvan
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charliesinfern0 · 1 year
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stupid fucking animation software compressing my files to shit for no reason
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roosterforme · 2 months
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Covering the Classics Part 2 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Anna knows her new coworkers want her to meet their friend Bob. But she's too hesitant, afraid to get herself in a situation where she's pining after someone new. During a spur of the moment shopping trip, Bob is delighted to bump into a woman he can only describe as adorable. Too bad he's never been great at the follow through.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+
Length: 3600 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!
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By the end of her first week teaching, Anna had learned many things, almost like she was a student herself. That nice, secluded ladies' restroom she found was secluded because one of the toilets regularly overflowed. The coffee in the teacher's lounge was actually disgusting, but the donuts were available every day. And Dr. Pham from the sociology department asked her out three times on Thursday, apparently because she wore her hair in two braids like Princess Anna from Frozen, a mistake she wouldn't be making again.
And she was so tired. She started to lose her voice on Friday morning from how much she had to talk in her lectures. She took the wrong notes to class with her and had to improvise an hour long class on Emily Dickinson, because she was too afraid to give one of her students the keys to her office door. So she sweated it out, but managed to sound somewhat coherent as she dismissed her class at noon.
She pressed her lips together. If she ran to get her sandwich and peanuts really quickly, she could join her new friends by the weird tree. After two days of joining them for lunch, she really liked both of them. She just didn't want to get their hopes up about their friend Bob whom she was supposedly perfect for.
Anna wasn't perfect for anybody. And frankly this Bob guy sounded like a dreamboat, which just made it worse. He'd probably laugh after taking one look at her, and if she opened her mouth and tried to talk to him, he'd run away scared. She already turned down their invitation to go to the Navy hangout bar on Saturday night, citing that she was too exhausted. But it was really because she needed to stand firm with herself and do everything she could to protect her feelings from now on. 
After another few seconds of contemplation, she went to her office and got her lunch before heading to the quad. But today it was just Jessica there eating lasagna and garlic bread from a plastic container while Anna's stomach growled in jealousy. 
"Hi," she greeted after she chewed up a bite of her perfect looking lunch. "It's just us today. Dr. Rosenthal apparently had a bunch of questions about the math curriculum and took Advanced Calculus out for a long working lunch at Covewood."
Anna had barely been in the city for more than two weeks, but even she had heard of Covewood. "That's a five star restaurant. A romantic date night hot spot."
"Mmhmm," Jessica agreed as she sunk her perfect teeth into the garlic bread.
Anna realized her own experience was fueling her next sentences, but she said them anyway. "Isn't she married? Her husband is okay with that?" she asked softly.
Advanced Physics burst into laughter. "Bradley loves Dr. Rosenthal. He's in his seventies, and he's one of the sweetest people at the school. They have him over for dinner sometimes. He actually did my tenure review."
"Oh," Anna replied, embarrassed that she could hardly relate to someone who trusted their spouse. "That actually sounds really nice."
"Hey, are you sure you don't want to come out tomorrow night? No pressure. I just think you'd have a fun time. The guys are all sweethearts."
Anna looked down at herself and her sad sandwich. She didn't even have money to spare for a beer that she would probably drink half of before she wanted to leave. And it didn't matter if the guys were sweet, she knew her two new friends would be champing at the bit to see how she and this Bob person interacted. "Not this weekend," she replied. "Maybe another night."
Instead of socializing, she spent her Saturday window shopping in North Park. She had a budget of exactly zero dollars, but she could entertain herself for hours this way. She gasped when she found a two story bookshop that claimed it contained new and used and rare finds, and she ran across the street to get to it. 
It was darker and quieter inside than the sunlit, traffic filled streets, and when Anna took a deep breath, it reminded her of a cozy library. The clerk behind the register waved instead of speaking, so really, it just kept getting better. When she noticed the wooden sign on the wall informing her that The Classics were upstairs, she made her way up the creaky steps to a loft area with row after row of tall shelves. 
"Perfect," she muttered, walking to the end of the open space and turning down the last tight row of bookshelves. She wasn't alone, but the only other occupant was a tall, slim man with broad shoulders and tidy, sandy colored hair. He seemed to be so absorbed by what he was reading, he didn't look up when Anna reached for an enormous copy of Shakespeare plays.
She almost moaned out loud; it was annotated and contained every play she had to teach in her Thursday morning English 300 class. It was well worn, and the cover felt nice in her hands. Shit. Of course it was seventy bucks. That was more than she spent on groceries last week. Maybe she could expense it to the department? She should probably know how to do that. Maybe she could text one of her new friends and ask if that was allowed. 
But she slid the book back into place as a Vonnegut she didn't yet own caught her eye. She reached out for it with a steady hand, but as soon as her fingertips met the spine, a much larger hand, complete with graceful yet calloused fingers, wrapped around hers. Everything suddenly smelled clean like soap and also intriguingly like tea leaves. And then she heard a voice next to her ear that made her bite down on her lip as a ripple of pleasure teased her spine. 
"Oh. I'm so sorry."
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Bob had never been to this store before, and he wasn't really planning on stopping by today, but Mickey dragged him in and then ditched him for the children's section at the back of the store. Bob looked around downstairs, but as a poetry fan, he found that section to be seriously lacking, so he headed up to the loft instead.
He considered himself well-read until he realized how many classic novels he'd never even heard of before. And they all sounded really depressing. Which was kind of the point, he supposed, but if he was going to get something new to read, he was in the mood for a more upbeat story. Maybe a romance or a European adventure he could get lost in. Maybe a sweeping, romantic tale where the nice guy gets the girl for once. 
After several tries, he still wasn't finding anything close to what he was hoping for. As he re-shevled The Bell Jar, he decided to just reach for a book at random. Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut? Maybe that would be more his speed. But when he reached for it, his fingers wrapped around a soft hand complete with glossy, burgundy fingernails instead of the actual book. He jumped an inch in the air, because he hadn't even been aware anyone else was in the aisle with him, let alone a woman who smelled like sweet perfume.
"Oh. I'm so sorry," he stammered, already mortified. Then she turned to look at him over her shoulder, and he wanted to jump off the loft railing and run out the shop door. There was only one word to accurately describe her: adorable. She had dark red hair done up in a messy braid, big brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. "Oh."
"It's okay," she replied softly as she tried to hand him the book. "You can have it."
He shook his head, completely distracted, as he kept finding more things about her face that he liked. A grin curled along his lips as he said, "No, it's all yours. Really. I was just looking for something new to read."
She glanced down at the cover and then back at his face, and maybe he was imagining things, but it looked like she was blushing a bit. "Wow. I wasn't really expecting anyone else to be interested in reading a sarcastic take on global destruction on a sunny Saturday afternoon."
His eyebrows shot up. "Is that what it's about?"
Her laughter was also adorable. "Yeah, I mean... it's Vonnegut," she said with a bit of an eye roll. Oh no. She knew what she was talking about, and he kind of didn't. He was probably about to sound like an idiot. 
Bob cleared his throat and pointed at a random spine to buy himself time. "What's this one about?"
She cocked her head slightly to the side and said, "Two murders and a kidnapping."
"Oh," he said with a little laugh. "No thanks. How about this one?"
He wasn't even looking at the books now at all, preferring to watch her facial expression change as she checked another title. "Oh, that one's good. Also about murder."
He chuckled and pointed at another. "This one?"
She smirked and looked up at him. "Jealousy, rage, hatred, and also a lot of murder."
"Wow," Bob replied with what he was sure was a stupid looking smile. "I was hoping for something a little tamer? Perhaps less murder-y? Maybe I should go down and look in the children's section?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and listened to her laugh again.
"I could recommend a few books with little to no murder. Maybe even a happy ending," she told him, and he watched as she pushed her braid over her shoulder. 
"I'll believe it when I see it," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. To his shock and amazement, her gaze followed his movement, and her blush returned.
When her tongue darted out between her lips, Bob could feel his heart beating in his temples. Her brown eyes drifted back up to his face, and he wondered if this was how Jake or Bradley used to feel when girls paid attention to them at the bar. It was decidedly really exciting. 
He was going to be bold like his friends. He was going to ask her for her number. Maybe he'd see if she wanted to help him shop for some books, and he could buy her that horrible Vonnegut that she wanted, and then he'd ask her very nicely for her number. 
"Floyd!"
Bob watched you jump as Mickey's voice echoed through the store.
"Floyd! Let's go!"
"S-Sorry," Bob muttered, stepping past her and heading for the loft railing. "Just... hang on for one second?"
As soon as Mickey looked up and saw him, he said, "We gotta go, man. I got some books for my nephews, but we'll be late to grab a drink before D&D if we don't leave now. You know how she gets when we're late." He was shaking a bag of books and heading for the door.
Bob did know for a fact that Jessica got annoyed when they showed up late because they got hungry or distracted on the way to The Hard Deck. "Just give me a minute," he told Mickey, but he was already outside. 
He swiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and turned around to find the aisle empty. Oh no. He checked the next row of shelves, and the next, and the next, until he got all the way to the stairs, but the adorable redhead was nowhere to be found. And he had no idea what her name was. 
"Hello?" he called out softly, checking each aisle again until he was back where he started. Bob might have believed that he imagined the whole entire exchange with an attractive woman, except that there was one book propped up against the others right where he and she had been standing. 
"A Room With a View by E. M. Forster," he mumbled as he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He glanced around again, but she was well and truly gone, leaving nothing except for what seemed like a book recommendation. 
"Floyd!"
Bob sighed and tipped his head back in frustration. "Coming!"
He descended the stairs slowly, head swiveling in every direction, searching for brown eyes and a braid while he held the book. Gone. He paid for A Room With a View and headed outside to find Mickey looking quite annoyed. What he didn't see was the mystery girl watching him from the far end of the loft.
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"She was real," Bob insisted as he held his glass of ginger ale a little tighter. "Just because you were too busy yelling doesn't mean I made her up in my mind. She had red hair and brown eyes."
Mickey gave him a skeptical look. "That's actually a really rare combination. And I know for a fact you happen to have an excellent imagination, my friend."
Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Why didn't I ask for her name and number?" Then he paused. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. There's no way she would have agreed to give it to me." 
He thought about the book he bought sitting on the front seat of his truck next to his dice bag and character sheet, and he considered just going home for the night. Maybe he could start to read the book. Maybe he'd feel like writing.
Then he felt an arm slip around his waist. "Hi, Jessica," he said as he blushed when he looked down at Jake's petite girlfriend. A second later, Bradley's wife was next to him as well, and Bob realized they were wearing matching smirks.
"Hey, Bob," Jessica replied, giving him a little squeeze. "We were just wondering if you happened to like redheads."
Mickey snickered before he tipped his beer bottle back and finished the drink. "He loves them. Daydreams about them."
Bob shot him a withering look. "She was real."
"Who was real?" Bradley's wife asked as her husband came up behind her and set his chin on her shoulder. Great, now he was going to have a full audience of people informed about his embarrassing afternoon of not even knowing how to ask a woman what her name was.
"There was a cute girl at the bookstore in North Park earlier," he muttered. "She had red hair, and I fumbled the ball."
Bradley chuckled. "You know what your problem is, right? You're too nice. Sugar met me when I was an absolute fuckboy, and she fell hard."
"I've been having a decade long lapse of judgement," she replied, and Bradley kissed her neck. "Don't listen to him, Bob. Girls love nice guys."
But Bob knew they didn't. Even the woman from the bookstore dodged him after approximately five minutes of flirting. If you could even call that flirting. He finished his ginger ale, and said, "We need to go. It's almost time for D&D. I'll drive."
Mickey nodded and said, "I'm ready." He could probably tell Bob had reached his limit with this conversation. His friend may be an extrovert to the extreme, but he was good at recognizing when Bob needed a break.
Jessica nodded as well and patted him on the chest before she pranced off into Jake's open arms. They shared the most adorable looking kisses before Jake straightened out her glasses and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Have her home by midnight, Bob!" he called as he released her. 
Bob nodded wishing there was someone besides the elderly woman who lived in the duplex next to him that cared if he was out past midnight or not. Even though he always looked forward to playing Dungeons & Dragons, he kind of wanted to head home and call it an early night. Nothing sounded as good as sending an email to Nat before reading his new book. But he would wait until later, and maybe he would even be in the mood to get his laptop out.
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Anna went back to her studio apartment empty handed. Well, that wasn't quite true. She didn't buy any books, but she did splurge on a six dollar bottle of wine which would probably taste disgusting. She just hoped it would help her sleep through the night after reading some sad poetry and eating a piece of toast for dinner. 
That guy from the bookstore was going to linger in her mind for a long time whether she wanted him to or not. She was more attracted to him after five minutes in his presence than she was to Kevin at any point in the past five years. And if she was going to start thinking about Kevin, she was probably going to cry. 
The toast was good, but the wine was bad. And she did cry a little bit. She was never going to get attached to the idea of being in a relationship ever again. She was never going to have herself that level of intimacy just to have it ripped away. She wouldn't allow it. Relying on herself would have to be enough. Handsome strangers with muscular, veiny arms and cute glasses who made her laugh were not part of the plan. That's why she ducked behind the end cap after she left him a book she thought he might like. She watched him buy it for himself, which left her almost breathless. If she allowed herself to, she could picture him sitting in a coffee shop sipping some tea and reading that book.
"Enough," she whispered, vision a little sloppy from the wine. She opened up the website called PoetsAmongUs, read a bookmarked collection about how good it would feel to be loved completely, and passed out. 
The realization that she was going to have to spend all of Sunday afternoon getting ready for the week was made slightly easier by the fact that she only had four hundred square feet of space to clean. And then she thought about the beautiful home she once had in New Jersey, and she had to finish the bottle of wine to help her get through her notes on The Great Gatsby.
She was still thinking about that hot guy with the glasses on Monday when she grabbed a donut from the teacher's lounge. Indulging in a little fantasy here and there about being loved and cared for wouldn't be so bad. And putting his face to it just made it even sexier. When she wasn't teaching, she let her mind wander to some possibilities that would never happen again. Pretty eyes, lean muscles, soft looking hair, pink cheeks. He probably had nice friends, too. He probably never cheated on anything in his life.
"Hey, Anna? Are you alright?"
She looked up from her bag of peanuts and realized she'd been so deep in thought, she wasn't paying attention to the lunch conversation. "I'm sorry," she replied, fighting the urge to groan. She wasn't very good at this stuff and should have probably just eaten lunch in her office like she did the past few days. The fact that it was Wednesday and she was still distracted was concerning to her. 
"Don't apologize. You just seem lost in thought," said Jessica as she ate another perfect looking lunch. 
"Do you want some chips and hummus? Bradley packed me too much food today," her other friend said. And of course he did, because he sounded like a damn dream.
Anna ate a few chips and sighed. "Have either of you ever had your heart smashed to bits?" She didn't really mean to say that out loud, but now that she had, she was met with an awkward silence that she wanted to run away from. 
"Yeah," Advanced Calculus replied softly. "And I did it to myself."
"Not my heart as much as my hopes and dreams," Advanced Physics added. "But for me, I think that was much worse."
Now the silence that followed wasn't quite as painful, but Anna was still a little embarrassed. "Yeah. All of the above." She cleared her throat and tried to think of something else to talk about, but her mind was still on the bookstore. "Hey, why didn't you tell me that San Diego is full of hot guys? They are literally everywhere. I went window shopping in North Park and got sucked into a bookstore, and I bumped into a guy with glasses who smelled so nice."
"Ohhh, what did he look like?"
Anna sighed. "You know how you can just tell a guy is really strong even though he doesn't have bulging muscles?"
"Mmhmm."
"He was like that." Anna bit into her sandwich and chewed it slowly. "Pretty eyes, kind of the color of a lake. Sandy hair. Wire glasses. Soft spoken. He smelled like a cup of tea." 
A few seconds later, she was snapped back from her drifting thoughts as Advanced Calculus asked, "Did you say this was at a bookstore in North Park?"
"Yes," Anna replied with a nod. 
"Did you get his name?" Advanced Physics asked. 
"No," she answered, still embarrassed over the fact that she hid from him.
And then she thought she was going to get whiplash again.
"Was he about six feet tall?"
"Was he slim but not skinny?"
"Did he blush when he smiled?"
"Will you please come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"
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Bradley is so proud of the fact that Sugar fell for him when they were in college. Beer Boy just gets better with age. This little Bob and Anna meet cute might spell disaster when they figure it all out! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 3
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yelenasdiary · 4 months
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Hi love!! I'm so excited your requests are open again for now. I love your writing so much!
How about a WandaNat x R story where R left for a longer mission so in the meantime WandaNat got into a routine without her, so that when R comes back they're still kinda stuck in that routine and therefore are ignoring R a bit. Just some angst with a happy ending ☺️
Overthinking
Pairing: WandaNat x Reader
Summary: Going on long missions were normal but returning home was harder than leaving. 
Angst & Fluff
Translations from Russian & Slovakia: Detka (baby), Krásne (beautiful), Miláčik (Darling)
Warnings: None | 1K
AC: Thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy xx 
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A week ago, you returned from a four-month long mission far, far away from the two people you love dearly. It was hard to leave them, but this was normal. You were Avengers, missions were a part of your job and you all understood that. When you first returned, things were normal as if you had never left. Wanda made the two of you breakfast while Natasha spoiled you with affection in bed like she always did. 
But a few days later, you noticed that your mission had kept you away from your girlfriends for a minute too long. The normal changed, you woke up in bed alone, you had breakfast alone, but you couldn't blame the two women for their new routine. They missed you more than you'd ever know and to cope with the lack of communication while you were gone, they naturally found a routine that helped them wait for your return. 
They woke up at the same time, had breakfast together, trained together, did mission reports together if needed but even though they still did most things together they still had things they didn't go together. Wanda loved the grocery store because it gave her a  sense of normality outside of being an Avenger so she did the grocery shopping for the entire compound. Natasha loved taking her motorcycle for a joy ride to keep her mind at ease and would often leave without letting anybody know but if her helmet was gone, nobody questioned her she was.
As for you, all you wanted was to be with them. All that time spent away from them made you realize just how much you loved them both so deeply. You knew they didn't mean to be ignoring you, they didn't even realize they were doing it but you missed them and the silence was getting a little too much for you to keep to yourself anymore. 
"Wands, darling!" You smiled as you entered the compound kitchen to find her unloading the groceries she had just brought, "let me help" you added. 
"Thank you baby" she smiled as you handed her a tub of yogurt to place in the fridge.
"So, I was thinking, how about I cook for us tonight? Just the three of us" you offered. 
"But you never cook?" Wanda cocked a brow at you. 
"I know, but I just thought we could do with something new" you replied. Wanda nodded, "well, okay krásne, dinner would be lovely" she smiled before kissing your lips softly. Your smile only grew bigger with excitement to finally spend some alone time with your girlfriends. 
----
The kitchen was a mess, your idea was to make Wanda's favorite meal, cholent. A slow cooked Jewish stew and peanut butter sandwiches for dessert. You had set the table and asked that the others would make their own plans for dinner, respectfully. Candles helped cover the burnt food smell while you dished up three plates and placed them on the table. 
"Something smells amazing" Wanda said as she entered the room, startling you. 
"I'm glad you think so" you chuckled, "I made cholent" you added. Wanda's eyes lit up, "you didn't have to spoil us" she replied as she took a seat at the table. Natasha followed behind Wanda, coming up to you and placing a kiss on your cheek. 
"Well, I was gone for too long" you admitted, taking Natasha's hand as she led you towards the dining table. "This is my way of making up for lost time" you added, taking a seat. 
"Detka, you have nothing to make up for.  We're just glad you're home" Natasha said, sitting across from you and Wanda. Your eyes dropped slightly at her words, your mind wanting to say something about the slight distance that had been placed between you and them, but you didn't want to ruin a good night. 
"Honey, what is it?" Wanda asked, placing a hand on top of yours. 
"It's nothing" you looked to her, brushing off her question with a light smile but she didn't buy it, not for a second. She tilted her head slightly, giving you that look. 
"Did something happen on the mission?" Natasha asked, looking between you and Wanda. You shook your head, "No, the mission was fine" you replied with a sigh. "I just…I know you both don't mean it, but I can see you two worked out a new routine without me…" 
Natasha looked to Wanda then back to you, "I missed you both so much and I just want tonight to make up for me being away for so long" you added. 
"Detka, I'm sorry" Natasha rose from her seat to sit on the other side of you, taking your free hand in hers, "we didn't mean to make you feel ignored. Wanda mentioned how exhausted you looked, and we thought it was best to let you sleep in and to give you some time to relax" Natasha explained. 
"We were going to wait until the weekend, but Nat and I have booked a little weekend getaway for just for the three of us miláčik" Wanda said. 
"We wanted to let you recover and do any mission reports before we stole you from everybody for a few days" Natasha added. 
"I am so stupid!" You shook your head, "here I was thinking you guys had found a way to do life with me on the side" you admitted with an eye roll. Wanda and Natasha chuckled, "oh detka, you overthink to much" Natasha said. 
"We could never do life without you or with you on the side-lines, you are our life" Wanda chipped in, placing a kiss on your cheek. Your cheeks warm with embarrassment for allowing your thoughts to get the better of you, "can we please forget I ever said anything and enjoy dinner?" You asked, an embarrassed smile tugging at your lips. 
After dinner the three of you cleaned up the kitchen and cuddled up on the sofa in the compound living room to watch one of your all-time favorite movies. Wanda twirled with your hair while Natasha gave your feet a massage. 
"So, where is this cheeky weekend getaway?" You asked. 
"For us to know and for your pretty little mind to think about" Natasha replied with a playful wink. "Oh, come on! Tell me!" You begged. 
"That would ruin the surprise" Wanda said, "I'm sure you could wait" she added to tease you before catching your lips in a kiss.
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Taglist: @boredandneedfanfics | 
If you want to be on the taglist for WandaNat fics and/or others, please click HERE.
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vivwritesfics · 6 months
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No Need To Ask - CS55
Chapter Five - Moving Pawns
The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.
But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.
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Y/N didn’t come out of her room for the first week she was in Spain. She had Oscar standing guard at her door, keeping her company. And sometimes Lando dropped by, when he wasn’t busy going over business with Carlos and Sainz.
She had food brought up to her room for her and Oscar, which she was grateful for. But Y/N had no contact with anybody of the Sainz family. She had Oscar grab the food for her and couldn’t bring herself to answer when somebody knocked on the door.
But the week was over quickly and, soon, Lando was flying back to England. Y/N hugged him goodbye as they stood at the front door, the entirety of the Sainz family behind them. “I’m gonna miss you, Lan,” Y/N mumbled against his shoulder. Tears had already fallen and she wiped her nose once she pulled away.
“I’ll miss you too, Peanut,” he whispered, squeezing her tight. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
Lando wasn’t going to be back for a while, not until the wedding ceremony. And, even then, he’d surrounded by other bosses and heads of family. He’d get two minutes to speak to his sister at most on her wedding day.
After Lando went home, Carlos gave Y/N a couple of days on her own. When he walked past her room he could hear her crying late at night while Oscar patted her back and spoke words of comfort. As soon as they were married Carlos would get rid of Oscar. He’d have his own men watch over her on the rare instance that she wasn’t with him.
After day three, Carlos finally knocked on her bedroom door.
Y/N didn’t pull it open. The face that greeted his wasn’t Y/N’s, but Oscar. “She doesn’t want to see anybody,” Oscar said with little regard for his status compared to Carlos.
Carlos flared his nostrils as he stared at Oscar. His stare was threatening, one that would have scared off anybody else, but Oscar stood firm. If Y/N didn’t see anybody, Oscar was going to do anything he could to make that happen.
“Get out of my way,” Carlos growled.
But Oscar still didn’t move. He kept his stare firm and level, his hand gripping the door, holding it shut. “She doesn’t want to see anybody,” he said again.
Carlos pushed him. Hard. He pushed him so hard that Oscar stumbled back into the room, falling on his ass. Oscar reached down for the gun that wasn’t there, the gun he wasn’t allowed to carry around in Carlos’ house. No matter, Oscar didn’t need his gun to make his point. But he didn’t get a chance, not when Carlos placed his foot on Oscar’s chest and turned towards Y/N.
Her eyes were wide and terrified as she stared at the man she was supposed to marry. “What are you doing?” She squeaked. “Get off of him, please!”
“If you join me in the foyer,” Carlos proposed.
Y/N looked at Oscar. He didn’t look pained, just furious as he stared at Carlos. “Yes, fine, okay!” Y/N insisted and Carlos pulled his foot away from Oscar.
His stared stopped Carlos from standing up. Once he was sure Oscar was going to stay on the floor, Carlos looked at Y/N. The gaze of a powerful man was a terrifying thing, and she couldn’t help but shrink in on herself under his stare. “You have ten minutes,” he said and walked out of the room.
Immediately Y/N rushed over to Oscar and pulled him to his feet. “I’m so sorry, Osc,” she whispered as she brushed off his shirt. “He’s a brute and nothing more.”
Oscar didn’t say anything. He stared down at her, brushing his fingers through the ends of her hair. “I’m okay,” he said quietly. “Don’t worry about me.” His stare was just as intense as Carlos’ but it wasn’t nearly as terrifying.
Clearing his throat, Oscar looked away. “I’ll go down there and tell him to fuck off if you want me to,” he said, but Y/N shook her head.
“Oscar, no! He might kill you.”
Oscar gave her a look, one that had Y/N wrapping her arms around him and kissing his cheek. She pulled away from him and quickly got herself dressed into something more presentable. Y/N sat at the vanity, brushing through her hair as Oscar watched her. She watched him, too, her eyes meeting his in the mirror.
As soon as Y/N was done, she stood and walked over to the door. “I’ll go with you,” Oscar said, standing from his seat on her bed.
But she shook her head. “Stay here, take a break,” she said and walked over to the door. Oscar kept following her. “Osc, please. I’ll be okay,” she reassured him, pressing on his shoulder to get him sitting back on the bed. “If anything happens I’ll text you.”
Reluctantly, Oscar nodded. He watched her go, watched her walk out of the door and shut it behind her.
While Oscar waited anxiously, Y/N walked down the grand stairs. Her legs were shaking as she gripped the handrail. Carlos was waiting in the foyer, his hands in his pockets as he watched her.
“Come,” he said once Y/N reached the bottom of the stairs.
Y/N sucked in a deep breath and followed Carlos. He walked past the stairs, taking her to the left side of the house. Y/N hadn’t been here yet, having only been to her room and outside. They passed several doors that were shut, and Y/N didn’t dare look in them. Carlos took her to the end of the corridor and pushed open the door, welcoming her inside the library.
It was gorgeous. Books on shelves at least eight feet high. There were plush arm chairs and doors that led out to the fire pit in the garden. And, on a table in the middle of the library, was a chess set.
“Wow,” Y/N whispered as she walked over to the table. She ran her fingers over the tops of the chess pieces, moving a pawn and putting it back.
“You play?” Asked Carlos as he watched her.
Y/N nodded her head and Carlos pulled out a chair. He sat and gestured for Y/N to do the same. She took her seat but didn’t make the first move. That was okay. She was sitting in his library; that was enough for Carlos. He moved his pawn forward two places.
“You don’t remember me, do you?” He asked when Y/N moved her pawn only one square forward.
“Actually, I do,” Y/N answered. Carlos looked at her, waiting for her to continue. “I remember when your father had a gun pointed at Lando and I.”
Carlos nodded, as though he remembered the event. “Yes, your mother was very angry. She called my father and screamed at him.”
Y/N was just nine years old at the time. Lando was thirteen and Carlos was eighteen. The only reason the boys were friends were because they were two lonely kids in the same world. While their fathers had a business meeting, the had been tasked with looking after Y/N while she played with her toys on the lawn.
She had a doll sat in the back of a toy truck which she pushed through the grass, making the sound affects with her voice. Lando and Carlos sat on the grass, knees up and arms resting on their knees.
Carlos loved following his father to England on business. Usually Carlos would be involved, but they tasked him with watching over Y/N. This business was more serious than Sainz wanted his eighteen-year-old son involved in.
“She looks happy,” Carlos said, his English rather good.
“She is,” Lando said. He loved his little sister dearly; thirteen year old Lando knew the kind of work his father did, knew the kind of work he’d be going into. He knew what would happen to Y/N if he didn’t watch over her. She was the one person he’d kill for.
“Does she know what’s going on?”
Lando shook his head. He looked back at his house, at the window to the office where his Sainz, his father and his stepmother were. His stepmother was looking out of the window as she spoke to the men behind her. Lando couldn’t tell what her expression was as she watched them, watched her daughter playing.
There were shouts, plenty of them, and then the doors to the house were thrown open. Lando was on his feet within seconds, running over to his little sister as Sainz marched out of his house, his father following him.
Sainz marched past them, saying something to Carlos in Spanish as he marched over to his car. “You fucking dare, Sainz!” Norris shouted. He seemed not to notice his children stood between himself and the other head of family.
Sainz spat something in Spanish. “You have done this to yourself, Norris!” He shouted. “Meet my demands and I will reopen our trading routes!”
Suddenly, Norris pulled his gun from the waistband of his trousers. “You’re jeopardising things for all of the families! Do you really want to risk that?” His finger rested on the trigger.
He wouldn’t shout, not when Lando and Y/N were there. Lando was sure of that much. But he didn’t move, far too terrified. Even Y/N had stopped playing with her toys, staring at her dad with tears in her eyes.
Sainz stared past Y/N and Lando with fury in his eyes. “Put that gun away while there are children around!” He shouted.
Norris didn’t move.
Suddenly Sainz had his own gun out, pointing it down at Y/N. He wasn’t going to shoot her, this was just supposed to scare her father. But Lando didn’t know that. He suddenly grabbed his sister and picked her up, shielding her body with his own. Y/N cried against his shoulder, her body shaking as Lando shushed her.
“Tell me more,” Carlos said as they progressed with their game.
Y/N told Carlos everything there was to know about herself. She started with the most obvious thing, which was her love of chess. She had nothing to hide from Carlos since she had no involvement in any of her fathers and brothers business. She went through her hobbies, asking the same of Carlos.
Carlos couldn’t tell much. He didn’t know how much contact she had with Lando (which was none) and didn’t know how much information was going back to him. He told her about his love of golf and fast cars.
It wasn’t easy for Y/N to talk to Carlos. But she used the chess game as a buffer between them, which seemed to ease the tension. Carlos never asked anything that she couldn’t answer, never anything about the Norris family.
He only kept her there for the one chess game, which Y/N won. Carlos wore a smile as he walked her back to her room, glaring at Oscar when he opened the door.
Carlos hated Oscar. As soon as they were married, he’d be gone.
Taglist (open): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle
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krystal-prisms · 11 months
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tac-the-unseen · 15 days
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Gifts the slashers would enjoy
Fluff
Minor updates for formatting
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Micheal Myers:
•Arts and crafts supplies
-He's enjoyed making Paper Mache masks most of his life. It's very likely that he enjoys other forms of art as well, but couldn't express that in the ward for fear it would be taken away.
-Dr. Loomis sucks
-Giving him art supplies now, would end up in him making his art in secret. He feels embarrassed to like such a simple thing. That shame is intensified if you ask to see it. He'll end up leaving it out so you can see it without directly showing it to you
•Candy Corn, circus peanuts, and Crunch bar.
-Are they his favorite? No. But they bring back good memories, and for Michael, that's enough.
-would spend a good chunk of time snaking on the sweets while you spend time with him
-Can be bribed into a lot of shenanigans with candy
•Homemade meal
-He rarely had anyone make him dinner. His mom being a ‘working’ woman ment that he had to fend for himself come dinnertime.
-Knowing that you wanted to, and found time to make him dinner make him feel that icky (Nice), bubbly feeling in the center of his chest
-minor Headcannon: first time this happened Micheal thought he was having a heart attack.
Billy loomis & Stu macher:
•Horror movie merchandise
-Their collectors. If you manage to get your hands on something they don't have, they'll give you anything you want in return.
-will trip over themselves trying to replay you
-Stu would actually kiss the ground you walk on if you ask
•Jewelry
-They both appreciate necklaces, bracelets, and RINGS
-Stu is a gold guy, Billy is a sliver guy.
-They’re like crows. Anything shiny will end up in their pockets. Imagine Stu showing off his rings like a newly proposed to woman. Fawning over the design and/or jewels.
•knives/knife sharpener
-They collect knives of different quality and look
-they better ones they use to hunt. The best ones and the weaker ones are put on display like trophies.
-No matter the quality you get, it's the fact it came from you but they care about
Thomas Hewitt:
•Flowers
-Thomas is a sucker for old ‘traditional’ romantic actions
-Seeing you hold up hand-picked flowers makes his heart gush. He thinks you look so precious, wanting to make him happy.
-sometimes he'll catch you, out of a window, picking flowers just so you can give it to him. He'll never tell you, and will always act surprised when you present the bouquet.
•Bones
-its simple and an abundant resource at the house. There's always bones somewhere, and Thomas knows how to use the bones
-They’re good for making repairs, as tools, and as decorations
-You 10000% have a bone bracelet that Thomas made for you when you guys started to get more serious
•Desserts
-Thomas won't admit it, but he has a sweet tooth. Why do you think Luda mae spends so much time baking?
-While a good pie is enough to send this man to his knees, any other baked good will do.
-He likes cherries and strawberries, but because of how expensive they are he doesn't tell anybody that it's his favorite. He doesn't want anybody ‘wasting’ money or resources on him.
Bubba Sawyer:
•Flowers
-Bubba loves flowers. Any kind of flowers is enough for him to let out squeals of happiness. He loves seeing them around the farm, and plants them around the house when he has spare time.
-So when you go to town and come back with a bouquet of flowers just for him, nearly crushed you with hugs.
-Keeps them alive for as long as possible then perseveres them in notebooks and in salt
•Quilting supplies
-Bubba is really good at handling leather. Those human skin masks are hard to make, and human leather is so incredibly delicate.
-On top of that, he is a family man. He want to make things that help his family. So he makes blankets!
-its a fine craft and perfect in enhancing his skills.
•Good old quality time
-He loves spending his time with you! If he could spend all day with you, he would.
-So sitting down and cuddling means that absolute world to him. He cherishes his time with you and it what he looks forward to everyday. It's why he wakes up in the morning. It's why he tries hard everyday. He wants to spend every day starting and ending with you!
Bo Sinclair:
•Tools
-If your in the workshop often enough, you'll know what ends replacing.
-Bo is as stubborn as stubborn comes, so he won't get new tools until they physically can't do their job anymore.
-If you get him new tools he will begrudgingly take them, but after an hour or two he'll find you just so he can thank you ‘properly’.
•Cigarettes
-The boy smokes
-Don’t know what else to tell you
-Will kiss you when you give it to him though
•Kids Toys
-Sounds weird, but having his childhood taken away from him leaves him wanting to fill up the gaps.
-when looking through a victim's car you found a two handed water ring-toss toy. when you showed Bo He just rolled his eyes and kept working on his Truck. You started playing with it when at the shop, even leaving it there on a few occasions. Every time you left it there, He would take it and sneak into the back room of the shop to play with it.
-it brought him immense joy. One day he forgot to put it back, and when you asked about it he berated you for losing your things and expecting him to keep track of your belongings. He never told you, and would rather die than admit it.
Vincent Sinclair:
•Art/craft supplies
-Its a given, really
-He very rarely get new art supplies (if you don't count corpses) so it’s nice to get replacements.
-Will take anything you give him, honestly
•Books
-Vincent isn't always making art. Sometimes art can get boring for him, or he hits a rough patch and doesn't know where to go from there.
-A book can easily help, Whether it's just something else to do or it helps him overcome his art block. He will oftentimes get up from his work space and find another spot to sit down and read.
-He loves it when you read to him. It's nice to just listen to something while you work.
•Hoodies
-with his combination of body issues and wanting to be cozy, A hoodie seems to be the best option.
-Even though it is hot in Louisiana, The cool basement and even cooler nights need a little warmth.
-loves the feeling of the softer cloth and with it being a present, makes it all the better.
Lester Sinclair:
•Lip balm
-Lester has a hard time with hygiene. No one ever really taught him how to take care of himself.
-So when you notice Lester had chapped lips and gave him some lip balm something in his brain short circuited. The fact that YOU want to help him, makes his heart swell.
-keeps it in his pocket and constantly reapplies it
•Car freshener
-Even with him blind to the smell of death, the hot Louisiana sun will intensify the foul smell 10 fold. You knew it was bad when you could smell the truck before you could see or hear it.
-You ran out of town and bought several packs of air fresheners for his truck. You told him that you do love him, just not the smell that lingers when he gets home from work. Lester doesn't want to make you gag every time he gets into bed with you.
-He likes the Strawberry, sugar cookie, and fresh linens scent best
•Dinner
-He’s not the ‘I better come home to a hot plate of dinner' kind of guy, but he really appreciates it when he does. Even though Bo is a semi-good cook, anything after years of having it will get boring.
-Having you cook for him (and most likely his brothers) is a nice change of pace.
-Will eat anything you cook. Whether it's ‘good’ or ‘bad’ he will happily eat it all.
Billy Lenz:
•Being read too
-Isn’t a physical present but he loves your voice. He wants to read but has A) a hard time focusing and B) has a hard time reading in general
-Having you read to him calms him down and gets him settled enough to sit still and/or do an activity smoothly
-Reading to him 100% makes him fall asleep in the end. And boy does this insomniac need it
•Crochet equipment
-After learning how to Crochet he can't stop. He runs through String like a mad man. He has made you 6 sweaters and increasing in quality over time
-Will give you a list of all the colors he wants and will wait patiently on your bed for you to come back.
-Gets ridiculous excited when he's given new supplies. Will be your lap dog for weeks after
•String lights
-Doesn't have to be Christmas themed, he just really likes the lights. Like a moth drawn to flames.
-likes to fall asleep with them on, it's like Billy’s own big night light.
-Has gotten too close to them and accidentally ripped them down. He tried to hide them so he didn't get in trouble, and actually cried when you found out.
Brahms Heelshire:
•Clothes
-You wondered why his clothes were so ill-fitting for a long time before you realized, that's his dad's old clothes.
-coming to that realization you manage to figure out his proper size and (after some minor fighting) when out to get him a much needed upgrade. When you came home he was waiting by the door, waiting for you. Giving him his new clothes was like telling him you would never leave again, he was ecstatic. He ripped the bags out of your arms and ran into his room so he could try them on
-He fell in love with the sweaters you got him, with a nice couple pairs of khakis. It wasn't much of a transition from his old clothes but that's just what he likes.
•Movies/Movie night
-The only movies he's seen are from his childhood, and he can barely remember them. His parents didn't think movies were healthy for a growing boy, so they only allowed him books to pass the time
-When you proposed a movie night he had a couple questions and even a bit of hesitation. “What if they melt my brain?” He asked with genuine concern. After you posed another question back “Why wouldn't they have melted my brain yet?” Did he trust you.
-You started with childhood classics before getting into the more ‘adult’ stuff. He loved every minute of it
•Picnics
-While Brahms isn't a fan of going outside, the garden is the only exception. You wanted him to go outside because orange juice can only do so much for a vitamin D deficiency.
-He said the only way he would go outside was if you had a Picnic and put his sunscreen on. Making sandwiches with chips and then lathering him in 80 SPF he went outside in a tank top layered with a crocheted vest and shorts, had him outside fairly quickly
-Now he wants a picnic every summer
Hannibal Lecter:
•Wine
-After dating for a while you started to notice where Hannibal got his expensive foods and wines
-you also noticed what he actually liked and what he was just experimenting with. While fruity and floral flavors were always favored, herbs and Nutty wines were much lower on his list.
-With that in mind you got a Cherry lavender wine from Greece. When you gave it to him he was actually shocked you were paying attention to his preferences. He told you most people just buy cheap wine and expect him not to notice.
-The wine you picked out now has a permit spot saved on his wine shelf.
•Paper bouquet
-Paper made into the shape of different flowers all wrapped up in another paper tying it all together. It's cute, classy (though he would never display it openly), and will never wilt!
-He had told you about the complexity of life using flowers as an example and how they wilt. So you decided to make flowers that can't wilt to not only sass him but to give him something
-He put them in a paper vase he made (in only what you can assume was) in his free time.
•Friendship bracelets
-What was originally a gag gift turned out to be one of his favorite gifts.
-You thought there was no way in hell THE Hannibal Lecter would wear cheap bright string woven together, but you were wrong.
-You had made some friendship bracelets out of old string you found in some old stuffed away box and laughed at the idea of Hannibal finding it in his desk drawer. So you did just that, just to come to the shocking realization that during a meeting with the F.B.I he was wearing it, hidden under his sleeve. You had a very hard time containing your laughter that night.
Will Graham:
•Quality time with you!
-Life has always been stressful for Will. So some alone time with you is always a great gift.
-No need for fancy dinners, events, or holidays. Just sitting down to watch whatever pops up on the T.V screen is enough for him.
-Bonus points if the pack joins in for a cuddle session!
•Handwritten letter(s)
-Having a man with a different then most emotional attachment style is hard. Will might not always what to be physically touched or poked at. Sometimes he doesn't even want to talk (Common coping mechanism for Autistic people)!
-But even when he gets like this, it's still nice to get some reassurance. You started writing him little notes around the house a while ago and slowly you noticed Will’s mood improving significantly.
-He found it very sweet that you were taking the time to meet him on a level he was comfortable with. The two of you don't speak about it often but the notes persist.
•New fishing gear
-anything fishing related is always an appreciated
-New lears, poles, vests, hooks, bait even. Anything even if he already has it, he will take it happily
-He’ll take you fishing with his new gear you got him and will happily teach you if you don't know how to fish
The Lost Boys:
•Jewelry
-All four vamps love jewelry of any kind
-All of them have earrings, bracelets, and necklaces so why not give them Something they can say they got from their S/O!
-David and Marko prefer bracelets, David’s gloves wouldn't mesh well with rings, and he thinks a necklace might make him seem less intimidating. Marko would chew on a necklace and worse could get caught during a fight. Rings would be damaged either due to said fighting and/or his painting. Bracelets are that perfect in-between!
-Dwayne and Paul like Rings for different reasons. For Dwayne Rings have that ‘marriage’ aspect to them. Not to say rings mean marriage, but historically speaking…it's like putting your claim on him and he's thriving for that.
-Paul likes rings to fidget with. He already has rings he uses as ways to occupy his hands when something or someone isn't. Will 100% show off his ring you gave him to the others.
•Gift boxes
-The boxes full of pictures, candy, and other meaningful things
-They all go feral over those boxes, especially the first ever box. It was filled with your own little doodles, candy you know they like, mini bottles of whiskey, and a note telling them about how much you care about them and where to meet you for the night.
-if you plan to do this more often make sure each boy gets to keep something or they WILL fight over it.
•ScrapBooks
-Memories bunch up and fade when you're a vampire. They can't always remember the little things, so having a book of all those memories they can look back at is great idea!
-You even found a creative way to include them in pictures! They can't be seen in photos, but they're shadows can! You take pictures under street lamps and make silly poses. You have a picture of Paul dramatically falling into Marko's arms while Dwayne and David kiss either side of your face.
-All those silly pictures combined with your and Marko’s creativity ends up in some fun, colorful, memories
Thanks for reading <3
(You know I write a fuck ton when It started glitching out. Like it would freeze while I was formatting it correctly 😭)
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sanjisblackasswife · 7 hours
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Gojo Hearing “I Love You” for the First Time
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I gen. have no clue if anywhere in the series anybody has said they loved gojo. Whether platonic or not. Its interesting and I was just thinking.
CW: Mentions of Gojo’s Past(some canon some not…so spoilers ig if you haven’t read the inventory arc), Established Relationship, Mentioned Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Some Angst(?), Soft Gojo, Reader speaks Spanish because I’m projecting 😋, Kisses
Blk!Fem Reader in Mind
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“AND THAT’S WHY I DO NOT LIKE PEANUT BUTTER COOKIES!..IT WAS VOMIT EVERYWHERE!”
“Can’t believe you managed to eat 6 boxes of cookies in one sitting.”
“Hey! Don’t judge it was a marathon of Digimon playing all day…good times. Not as good as the time—“
And there he goes again, your big over 6’6” boyfriend laying on his back on the couch having another yap fest after a long trip. It started off with a quiet evening of you both eating and watching a childhood movie to then actually sharing stories of your past.
You really couldn’t be more enamored by how excited Satoru gets when he speaks to you. His smile is wide from ear to ear and his dimples grow deeper. He’s also so expressive with his hand gestures you really don’t know where to look as you lay comfortable on his big broad chest.
Usually when he begins to speak about his life before you, you try to absorb and savor every moment. Since your friendship in high school Gojo wasn’t much of a talker (ironically) about his life, but as you both grown closer since his big mission with Geto to watch over Riko he managed to get a bit more comfortable with telling you more about himself.
It’s been 11 years since then and after some therapy sessions with you, Geto, and Gojo three of you managed to learn how to express yourselves in a healthier way with each other.
You watch now, almost 1 year into your official relationship with him and noticed he doesn’t talk much about his parents. Nor an adult in his life that was like a parent to him at the very least. Even when in High School you never met his family. You knew of his clan and that was all.
You always wondered where did he get his wild energy from? His dad? Where did he become so affectionate through touch? His mom? It was all a mystery you wanted to understand.
You’ve even asked Geto, his closest best friend what does he know about his mom and dad, but he always ends with “It’s better you wait until he tells you himself.”
You didn’t question it more, you respected the decision so thats exactly why you’re here. Watching and listening attentively to what your boyfriend has to say. It makes you happy seeing how much he has grown more comfortable towards you towards the years.
“And when I was 8 I remember my folks always gave me free range to use my technique whenever to practice, but boy they regretted after an hour because I—-baby.”
Without noticing your eyes blinked back at him as if you began to come back to reality again, Gojo seen the relaxed look you given him as he spoke, how your eyes were on his, but he just knew you—
“‘ not even listeninggguhhhh.”
Putting your thumbs on his pouty bottom lip, they’re so soft you smile at him, it wasn’t really something you’d expect to say to him, but his pretty big smile, his deepened dimples, everything about him caught you in a moment of venerability you just decided to softly speak at him;
“I love you.”
…just like that it was a pause.
It just slipped off the tongue. You meant it, but finally saying it out loud was a bit of a shock to not just you, but more Satoru. He had an unreadable look on his face, almost as if he didn’t catch what you said, but he definitely did. He couldn’t miss the way his body tensed up hearing those three words.
“What?”
Gojo didn’t say anything, almost as if it was a staring contest you rise from his chest to straddle him, “Are you okay?”
You jumped feeling the pads of his thumb dig into the fattiness of your hips, almost as if he were trying to massage you….very painfully. He got up though, placing you down on the couch and walking to the nearest bathroom without saying a word or looking at you. You could’ve sworn he wiped his face momentarily.
“Go—?”
He didn’t mean to, it was almost a reflex. Your words though, kept replaying in his head . He felt a bit silly being so dramatic , ironically but he couldn’t properly process what you said.
“Satoru?” You knock on the door breaking him away from his thoughts, “You okay, papa? I—oh.”
He opened the door, putting back on his eye mask and giving you one of the fakest smiles you ever seen him do.
“What are you doing, you okay?”
“yeah yeah I’m fineeeee. Let’s go get something to eat.”
“W-wait!” You playfully scoff at his eagerness as he pulls you to the front door, “I’m sorry if what I said made you uncomfortable….I know it was sudden and random, but I meant it.”
Gojo turns and exhales, clearing his throat he begins to scratch the back of his head, you can tell he is scrambling for words so you continue; “I do love you Satoru. A lot. I think I always have since we were younger, but I don’t know…today made me realize I should verbalize it.”
He wants to speak, but for one of the first times you left him wanting to just listen to you. Honestly you took advantage of it because who knows when you’ll be able to get him this quiet.
“I love your smile, I love your laugh, I love the way you explain things, I love the way you are, I love the way you care, I love how you can get on my nerves.” You ends the last part with a giggle making him finally chuckle with you, and he brings you closer to his chest. “I love you, Satoru. You are an amazing person and I am very blessed to have you as not only a friend but a partner.”
It was all too much, he felt overwhelmed he had to lift his mask to wipe the tears welling on the side of his eyes, he chuckles again, the free hand on your waist tightening, “Well damn if I didn’t know better I’d think you have a crush on me.”
You laugh, “Maybeeee…..Now. “ You smooch his cheek before grabbing your phone, “Let’s go get some food—-“
You tried walking past him towards the door but he grabs you from behind to hug you close, you can hear his shallow breaths in your ear. You’re used to his tight squeezes from behind but this one was firm. Almost as if he let you go you’ll fly away.
“Say it again.”
You smirk, his voice quivering but trying to be masked by a fake pouting tone, “I love you, Satoru.”
“Again.”
“I love you.”
“Again, but in Spanish.”
“Oh brother.”
“C’mon you sound hot when speaking Spanish.”
“Te amaré para siempre, Satoru…”
If words could explain how he felt right now with you, the closeted would be a weight being lifted off his shoulders. For a moment he no longer was Gojo the strongest sorcerer, he was Satoru.
Just Satoru.
Something he wanted to be for a long time, and now you are helping him take the first step into that.
You inhale his scent; mint, expensive cologne and his natural musky smell you love so much and rub his head as he is still buried in your neck. You turn to face him and grab his cheeks, almost hesitantly to cup them because you weren’t sure if he’d left you see him cry. Though you felt your shoulder dampen.
However he let you, his big blue eyes surrounded by a tint of pink, he tried laughing it off and he actually broke eyes contact with you, “I …um…heh..fuck—“
You knew what he was trying to say but you don’t force him, instead you place your lips on his, you felt him exhale, his body relaxing in your touch, “I know, Satoru. I know.”
Gojo couldn’t properly register why he was so overwhelmed with whatever he is feeling right now but he wouldn’t trade this feeling in the world. He honestly wanted to replay the moment you said you loved him on repeat all day.
Later that day you both go out and have your own last minute date for the evening, he wanted so badly to tell you he loves you back by trying to incorporate more of the word “love “ in his vocabulary, by saying things like “I know you LOVE this.” Or “Wouldnt you LOVE for me to take you here.” but it was hard and he sounded silly.
Satoru wanted so badly to tell you he doesn’t just love you, but he has fallen IN love with you.
Gojo finally found just one more person that gave him something he didn’t realize he needed;
To feel human.
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wildflower-playground · 3 months
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anybody want to introduce me to their favorite stuffed animals or other special toys? :D i love seeing people’s comfort items <3
i’ll go first! this is peanut, a small jellycat smudge elephant that often goes with me on adventures out of the house! :] she and her big sister grayson (in the third pic) keep me company when i sleep too! 🐘💛
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autisticlancemcclain · 7 months
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There’s a knock on his door.
Keith freezes. There’s never a knock at his door.
“…Yeah?” he calls out cautiously, dog-earing his book and setting it down on his mattress. Shiro doesn’t knock, Shiro just calls out from wherever he is. Or texts him. And it’s not like Keith even has friends over, because he’d have to have friends to have them over. Shiro is also, as it turns out, equally as uncool, and never has company.
The door handle turns, and Adam pokes his head through the crack.
“You busy?” he asks.
Keith blinks. “Oh. Hi.”
That makes sense. Adam is here a lot. Keith has kind of forgotten to count him as company, actually. He kind of just appears at random times. Keith is half convinced that Adam is actually some kind of hologram Shiro has created to argue with, mostly because imagining that is really funny.
But he’s never come to Keith’s room before.
“Hi,” he says back, smiling slightly. “Shiro had to run out to handle something because the Garrison would delve into chaos without him, apparently. So he’ll be gone until after dinner.”
He looks at Keith expectantly. Keith stares back, eyes big, because he has no idea what the hell to say to that. Like, he’s correct, Shiro is the one and only thing holding the stupid school together, but Keith’s not quite sure why Adam has come to announce that to him.
“So are you free?” Adam repeats.
“Oh,” Keith says, startling a little. This is a — Adam is seeking him out. Intentionally. Planned. The fiancé of his foster — father? brother? mentor? Keith should ask more questions — has made plans, and they include Keith. Keith is being considered as someone to be hung out with.
“Yeah,” he says, voice cracking. “I’m free.”
“Cool,” Adam says, nodding. “C’mon.”
Keith scrambles off his bed and to the door, not wanting to give Adam time to change his mind. Not that it matters, or Keith cares about hanging out with him. Or anybody for that matter. But he’s curious, so.
“What are we doing?” Keith asks, jogging after him. Adam is a power walker. There’s not a lot of space to power walk in the small apartment, but Adam manages to leave him in the dust anyway. More fuel to Keith’s hologram theory.
“Well, obviously I love your brother more than the moon and stars,” Adam says matter-of-factly, striding over to the kitchen and opening counters.
Keith blinks. Well. That’s one question answered, he supposes.
“But I’m worried.” Adam sets down his armful of supplies; a small mixing bowl, chopsticks, a knife, a cutting board, and an array of vegetables. “Takashi tries very hard at everything he does. It usually gets him quite far. But cooking?” He shakes his head, grabbing a strainer and a head of cabbage and stepping over to the sink. “I don’t know who cursed him, but he’s physically incapable. And you’re thirteen. You’re growing. You can’t eat boxed noodles and peanut butter sandwiches all day. It’s bad for you. Come here.”
“I eat a lot of fruit,” Keith offers, feeling strangely like he has to defend Shiro, or something. Not even necessarily against Adam. Perhaps against the Allegations. “He’s very big on oranges. And mandarins. All citrus, really. There’s a lot of it.”
Adam rolls his eyes. “That is because Takashi read a book about scurvy when he was fourteen and is now terrified of it, because he is a goober. He’s also afraid of squirrels, if you’re wondering. He found out that some of them are carnivorous and never recovered.”
A tiny, barely there smile quirks his lips. Keith bites the corners of his mouth so it doesn’t get any ideas, then steps hesitantly towards the kitchen island, across from Adam. He watches him scrub the leafy vegetable, careful to get in all the nooks and crannies, then pat it dry. He moves to set the cabbage down and then seems to think better of it, leaning back against the sink.
“Get me the salt,” he says, gesturing to a bowl on the counter with pursed lips.
Keith narrows his eyes at it suspiciously. “Why?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” Adam observes.
“You answer very vaguely,” Keith returns.
Adam barks a laugh. Keith finds himself pleased at the reaction.
“I’m going to scrub the cabbage with it,” Adam explains. “It’ll draw out the moisture and take out any leftover dirt, too.”
Satisfied at the answer, Keith grabs the salt bowl, bringing it over. He moves to go back to his spot but Adam stops him with a wet hand around his wrist, gently guiding his hands towards the cabbage. Keith wills his shoulders to relax.
“One hand open to support it, one hand in the salt bowl,” Adam instructs quietly. “Grab a handful and start rubbing it in.”
Hesitantly, Keith grabs the offered cabbage, hyperaware of how his shoulder brushes against Adam’s bicep when he moves; how he doesn’t move away, but he’s not crowding, either. Just…close.
“I can actively feel my fingers pruning,” Keith says in disgust.
Adam snorts. “Yeah, they do that.”
Step by step, Adam guides him through chopping vegetables, measuring spices, mixing sauces, and handling the stove until Keith is working his way through a basic stir-fry like a pro. He’s more shocked than he should be when he tries his first bite of it and likes it.
“You have managed to avoid being cursed, too,” Adam says around his own bite, pleasantly surprised. “I was worried that living with Takashi would curse you by proxy. But this is good.”
“I mean. It was stir-fry. We chopped and we fried. Hard to fuck up,” Keith points out.
“You’d think. When I tried to do this with Shiro, the pan was charred so bad we had to throw it out. I don’t even know what he did. I was right there. It’s like he destroyed it by rancid vibes alone.”
Keith hides a smile in his noodles. Adam notices anyway, and grins.
“Sounds about right.”
“You’re good, though, kiddo,” Adam says, and his hand is heavy on Keith’s head. “You’re good.”
Keith swallows the sudden lump in his throat. His face gets red.
He leans into the touch.
———
other parts in this universe
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wexhappyxfew · 27 days
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no hard feelings
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(a/n): dougie deserves all the love and carrie achterberg was the perfect opportunity to test it out. had some ideas for these two a while back and finally pieced together their dynamic later in the war. there’s plenty of time to talk about their earlier dynamic but for now….enjoy these two and a look into their history together :) enjoy! ....oh and if you're a Sunshine Soldier fan (my first BoB fic), from ages ago, there's a treat for you stuffed in here!
"Well, well, well. Look what we have here. Pleasure seeing you ladies here."
Carrie glanced up from her rather in-depth conversation with Paulina and Bessie and found James Douglass, leaned up against the chair in front of them, across the table, a wide smile on his face, as he glanced at their faces and then settled on Carrie.
James Douglass - to which she had annoyingly started calling him Dougie, like the others - was never one to entertain nor hold onto something far longer than needed. However, when it came to her and, particularly, teasing her, he held onto that like a rope tied around his finger. He never let go.
"To what do I have the displeasure of seeing you," Carrie said looking up at him with a wry grin, to which he raised a brow at, "c'mon, let me have it. What is it? You need shoeshine for those things you call boots. You need me to go and kiss-up because you said something you shouldn't have. No wait - I got it. You managed to wake up late and missed breakfast, and need me to smooze you into getting coffee." The tables around them grew slightly quiet, a few heads turning; Paulina stuck to staring between the two, a bunch of scrambled eggs in her mouth, Bessie taking the opportunity to loudly sip on her coffee that was growing cold. Dougie sent her a look with his eyes and then looked at Paulina swiftly.
"Lieutenant Bradshaw said something about a fuse in Silver Bullets blowing," he offered, before dropping his voice, "right near the radio." Paulina's fork dropped and she launched up out the chair and darted away, calling over her shoulder through the loud lunch room, half-chewing, half-attempting to speak.
"I'll be back!" she called, wiping at her mouth, "James Douglass I'll have your head for this if you're joking around with that no-good head of yours!" Carrie watched her disappear and then watched Dougie look at Bessie, who sat rather unfazed and slightly tuned out of the conversation. Carrie momentarily shut her eyes when she knew what was coming.
"Kidd's looking for ya. Said he had a few things to talk to you about, from the good Colonel himself." Dougie offered and she stared at him and raised a brow, before ceremoniously wiping her mouth and standing.
"I'll be back." she muttered, eyeing Dougie, before sending Carrie a look, to which she rolled her eyes. Which left Carrie with Dougie.
Good God.
She turned her eyes to look at him and then leaned against the table, lacing her fingers, offering a rather sarcastic smile instead of sweet.
Listen, she got along with James Douglass, the whole base did, but sometimes he sweet-talked her because he enjoyed it. And he knew how much he could get to her, even if it was just teasing. Bessie always teased Carrie back that it was because he was taking a liking to her.
Carrie Achterberg was absolutely not one to take to gossip like that and had promptly squashed that. He had joked with her like this since training - it was James Douglass for Chrissake - he did it because half the time, there was enough sadness on this base to fill up an ocean.
"What do you want?" she said, pointedly acknowledging how rather relaxed he was, and how drained she appeared.
"Does it always have to be something I want? What about you? What do you want?"
"For you to leave me alone, so I can enjoy breakfast. Without the fucking peanut gallery."
"That hurts me, Bergie."
"Don't call me that."
"What? A lil nickname never hurt anybody. Bessie calls you that." She raised a brow in his direction and he shook his head.
"Look, just, can you…I don't know, just do me a favor?" Carrie stared at him and raised her brow further.
"What?"
"Can you dance with me tonight? At the flying club?" Carrie stared at him, before shaking her head.
"No." Dougie sighed.
"C'mon, why not?" Carrie looked at him sharply and sent him a scowl.
"If I'm gonna dance with someone, they're going to want to actually dance with me. Not just do it because of some other girl." Carrie said quickly and inhaled more egg, "I know you've been eyeing up Charlotte Tarvers, so." Dougie blew a raspberry and waved her off.
"Nah, nah, she's….I think she's got some guy in the Airborne, I'm not....nah." Dougie said waving it off, "Really, it's just….you and I, ya know? And, look, listen, favors is a bad word anyway…." Carrie looked at him, her cheeks dotting red a bit and she shook her head.
"You're just doing it to try and get another girl to come and be all fluffy in your face. Newsflash, Dougie, I'm not taking part. Ask Margie or…or Judy! Judy would love to."
"If Benny DeMarco were here he would smash my face in for even dare touching Margie and I'd rather not become one with Captain Rosenthal's dark side so, respectively….I'll take my chances." Dougie said and then looked at her. Carrie grumbled under her breath and shook her head.
"Fine." she said, "But. You have to promise to make it worthwhile, alright? Give me a twirl, hold me agonizingly tight, but not too tight, 'kay? I might even do my hair."
"Do your hair? Oh, Bergie, that's an honor right there. I'm honored, truly."
"Buzz off, shithead. Not for you. For me." Carrie said and then bit into a piece of toast, "I don't know….maybe it'll get someone's attention." Dougie's face turned serious for a moment as Carrie enjoyed her toast and he seemed to recalibrate.
"Uh….what do ya mean?"
"I don't know…..some of the guys, you never notice how cute some of them are until you see 'em, ya know? In their Class A's, looking all put together….especially after some of those last few missions." she said, "Maybe they'll see us dancing and ask to butt in. We'll see." Dougie watched her, looking more confused by the minute, bringing a spark of laughter to Carrie's lips.
"But…..you and I, we're dancing. Together. And going. Together." Dougie said with a chuckle before shaking his head, "You can't……"
"Are you jealous, Dougie?" Carrie whispered quietly with a grin, smacking his shoulder, "You're cute when you're mad." Dougie watched her as she continued eating, frozen in place, without any sort of words.
"Don't give me that look, that's exactly how you sounded to me," she said, and raised a brow, "so….you promise, it's just gonna be you and I. No other extras, huh?"
"Promise." Dougie said quickly, "Shake on it." Carrie eyed him, but then met his grasp and shook on it, before going back to her toast and enjoying savoring the taste.
"Who's the jealous one now?" Dougie whispered quietly to her from across the table, sending the blonde a smirk and a wink, who offered nothing but a glare, "C'mon, just saying. Sounds like you want me all to yourself." Carrie looked at him and then placed down the toast and met his gaze.
"I'm doing this for no one but myself. Not you." she said. Dougie rolled his eyes and then leaned across the table and dropped his voice, lowly.
"No other extras, huh?" he whispered, "Afraid someone's gonna steal me away?" Carrie slowly looked to his face, her eyes unmistakably drifting across his face for a moment before looking back at his eyes.
"Who says I'm afraid? You're the one inviting me." she whispered back quietly, watching that stupid smirk grow on his lips - a challenge. She seemed to have caught Dougie in a crossfire as he chuckled to himself and then leaned back in his chair and laid an arm over the empty seat next to him.
"If anything, you should be afraid someone's gonna steal me away. I've met plenty of those gentlemen to know they'd take any chance they could." Carrie said, her cheeks flaming at the way he watched her, making her collar hot and her cheeks red, "Why didn't you just ask Paulina? Or Bessie?" Dougie sent her a look and crossed his arms.
"There's a reason I'm asking you and not them, sweetheart." he said and she felt her face dip darker in color, to which she picked up her toast and took an angry bite out of it, trying to ignore that look on his face, to which she was almost enjoying. Knowing he was getting under her skin, and she was liking it. She swallowed her toast and then looked at him, schooling her features evenly.
"Enlighten me. What are you trying to say?" Carrie said, staring at him with a cool expression. A bold question to pose, in her opinion. Like bait for a fish. He watched her and licked his lips, suddenly under the spotlight and met her gaze again, fully.
"I want to dance." Dougie said, a nod, like convincing himself this was right, "With you." Carrie's eyes moved to his quickly. He stared right back at her, holding her gaze tensely as she reached for her coffee cup.
There was something in his gaze that was different than before there. A longing, a want, an eagerness - something that made her stomach feel funny and her toes tingle.
Why, she wondered in her mind. There were a bunch of other wonderful ladies he could dance with that he would have a far better time both dancing and conversing with - people that were pleasant and friendly and happy. People that weren't like her. She looked to him again and watched as he leaned forward and shook his head.
"Listen, Bergie, I'm sorry," he said quickly, waving his hands in front of himself, "it was too forward, I get it. You got a lot of shit going on back home, you don't want-"
"No." Carrie said, stopping him mid-sentence, his eyes flashing to hers as she sat there, cheeks turning red again as she tried to stop it. She shook her head and balled up her fists and fixed her shoulders.
"It's not that." she managed out in a stammering pace, shaking her head. The two watched each other - him, waiting on her to open her mouth, and her, waiting for her mind to connect with her mouth to speak. But it didn't happen.
"What's going on, Bergie?" Dougie asked quietly, noticing as she looked at him, trying to gather what thoughts were left in her mind.
All she could think of was the casualty list - the way it grew, larger and larger. The amount of planes that had gone up and never come down. The amount of men they'd lost, the people that were gone never to return. The families that would never get their sons and daughters back.
"James." she said quickly, and he looked at her in earnest, "I….." He stared at her, the most serious she'd ever seen a look appear on his face.
"This is…." she couldn't get her words right, the puddle of her mind overwhelming. She couldn't look at him and speak what she actually wanted to say. It was too real. All of these. These feelings, what was going on around them. This war.
"Did something happen?" he asked quickly, "Listen, I just joke with you, no hard feelings, just-"
"I'll dance with you." she said quickly, "Tonight. Just-" she stood quickly with her half-finished cup of coffee, looking down at her pants rather than him, "-just….I'll see you there." She took her plate and then spun away, moving around the edge of the table, her eyes on the door.
"Wait, wait, Bergie-" Dougie said, jumping to his feet, and lightly placing a hand on her elbow. She turned to look up at him, catching him in the haze of late morning light and watched as his eyes softened, only seen by her, his eyes lingering on parts of her face she hated to show a soul, his body heat penetrating her own with how close he seemed to be.
"Are you okay?" he asked her quietly, dropping his voice, "I mean, you don't have to dance with me. I just…..we never have and I figured I owed ya-"
"I'm fine." she managed quickly, "No, we'll….we'll dance. It's fine. I'm fine." She offered a smile his way and he watched her, regarding her face quietly.
"I didn't ask you because there's another girl or to have a laugh, none of that, that's a shit thing to do, alright?" he said quietly, "I asked you because I want to dance with you. You, Bergie." She stared at him, her eyes flicking back and forth, over and over. The longer she stared at him, the more her heart began to race and the blood rushed to her cheeks.
"What I'm trying to say is that you're the most beautiful woman I've ever met, and I finally have the opportunity to dance. With you." Dougie said quickly, his ears and upper cheeks turning red, even though he seemed to try to hide it. Between both their faces and the redness of their cheeks, it was quite a sight for any onlooker or eavesdropper. She stared at him.
"I almost did. Back in Greenland. You definitely didn't want anything to do with me, but I almost did it." he said, a nervous smile on his face, "Figured you were pissed with me. So I didn't. As usual." She continued to watch him - him, rambling, her, staring. After a few moments of silence that lingered between them, she blinked.
"I'm always pissed with you." she said, but she said it in a way that was both factual and sarcastic and got a smile going on Dougie's face.
"Well, I know that," he said, "figured you wouldn't want to dance with the guy you're pissed off at. I don't know, as I go to twirl you, you'd probably try to push me into a wall or something."
Carrie stared at him - she'd let him twirl her into his chest and more, hold her close to his chest, in his broad, warm arms, tell her it was okay, that this was okay, that this was allowed, that she could feel this. She stared at him, her heart racing. And he stared back, that deep look in his eye that was enough to make her lose it.
"Keep looking at me like that and you'll get more than you bargained for." she whispered softly and then offered him a small, smirking grin, and walked away, her cheeks and ears burning.
If she looked back, she'd get that look that she knew was on his face, forever implanted in her mind and she couldn't have that yet. Not now.
As she placed away the plate and took one last sip of her coffee, she moved towards the door with her arms crossed and glanced over her shoulder just as she stepped out and looked to where Dougie was, stood still, hands in his pockets, watching her like something holy had just appeared right in front of him. She winked.
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