#...anyway does anyone want some eucalyptus

[cicerfics]

Someday, perhaps, you will find yourself at a farmer's market, admiring a flower stall.

Listen closely, so you can learn from the mistake I just made.

You may find yourself inspecting the bouquets on display, which are selling for $20.

You may think, "Yes, this is a normal amount of money to pay for a normal quantity of organic flowers! I shall partake and thereby support my local farmers and small business owners!"

You may decide that what you REALLY want on this particular day is a bouquet of the different types of eucalyptus on display, scattered loose around the stall in large buckets of water.

The stall-keeper may inform you that he will sell you three half-bunches of eucalyptus for $20.

You may think, "That is a very reasonable amount of eucalyptus! I will make one normal-sizes arrangement for my dining room table, and several tiny bouquets to place in my bedroom and bathroom and so forth. This is an excellent plan that cannot possibly fail."

The stall-keeper may tell you that it will take him a minute to prepare your order, since you are not buying a premade bouquet, and to feel free to continue shopping the market while he makes up your eucalyptus bouquet.

You might happily browse the nearby stalls, purchase some dates, and run into your therapist. You might say hello and hug her, and therefore not pay the smallest amount of attention to the bouquet construction going on behind you.

You may then return to the flower stall, and the stall-keeper may say, "Here you go! $20, please. :)"

And. The nice stall-keeper might then hand you an entire WHEELBARROW full of eucalyptus (give or take a few sprigs) bound with perhaps three full yards of twine in a desperate attempt to keep it all together.

There is enough eucalyptus to feed an army of koalas.

There is enough eucalyptus to act as a flail.

Your first thought may be, They beat Jesus with that.

Your second thought may be, This is far too much eucalyptus, but this nice man just spent eight minutes making up this bouquet and I cannot possibly ask him to pull it apart and start over with less eucalyptus.

You might decide to meekly pay your $20 and carry away your ridiculous surplus of eucalyptus, because what else can one do in such a predicament?

After a certain amount of time, it might dawn on you that eucalyptus is considered a greenery and a filler, and therefore $20 of flowers translates to about a truckload of filler, and perhaps you should have foreseen this problem.

You did not foresee this problem, and now you live within a jungle of eucalyptus.

...This has been a public service announcement.

[softk1111tty]

✨pinned🪽

angel or kitty or cherry // 2001 // he + it // white and tme // main @ch333rryboy

THIS IS AN 18+ / KINK BLOG.

if you are a sfw blog/under 18 do not reblog my posts. if you want to reblog my plushie transparents, id much rather you just save the image and repost it with the source link yourself. its not like i own the images anyway, i just take them from the sellers website and make them transparent. just make sure you add the source 🙏 <3

if i interact with anyone who does not want nsfw interaction it was 100% an accident, and i try to check each blog i reblog from for a dni. if i miss something i wont be offended by anyone blocking me or whatever. keep yourself safe, i just ask not to be harassed for attempting to curate my own personal, safe, place.

with all that out of the way, heres more about the kitty (thats me !) under the cut ⬇️

this is a side blog for soft things and hard(er) kinks. everything thats too fucked up or embarassing to go on main. think of it like a sub-subspace. absolutely no minors.

soft kitty working on my resume to be a fulltime basement pet. thinks about being cannibalized often. fantasizes about being microchipped. wants to be pampered, more than willing to settle for torture. gods specialest most manipulatable boy. extremely clippable wings. deeply traumatized, full of daddy issues. 100% grade a raw meat. dumb whore. daddys pretty boy. made up of dollparts. toy in need of repairs. fuzzy bedside plush. full of cotton stuffing and gore. fragile, handle with care. Or dont. etc, i <3 my daddy, my owner, my everything, unconditionally and entirely💖

i age regress (~12-15). i have extreme, intense, and frequent mood swings. i struggle with an eating disorder. i self harm. i have extensive childhood sexual abuse trauma. and, not that the reason rly makes a difference, but i sexualize all of these things as a coping mechanism.

my favorite colors are cherry red, dusty baby pink, and peach. i love my stuffies and soft blankets and chew toys! i collect palm pals ! ! my favorite scents are fresh laundry, eucalyptus, lavender, and beachy coconut-y smells. i luv making bracelets for my friends and daddy and me ^_^

my stuffie friends are lamby, muffin, and dino :3

no trigger tags or dni here. expect to see rape kink, dad/son/ddlb/fauxcest, intox, corruption, kidnapping, captivity, food control, emeto, some blood stuff, medfet, knife/gun play, impact/breath/burn play, marking/branding, romanticization of emotional AND physical abuse, etc.

i will never post/reblog pictures of irl dead bodies; when i reblog anything that constitutes as "gore", i try to make sure it is either 1) fake or 2) part of consensual kink. i am not a fan of snuff/death, and i have "irl gore" blacklisted. i will tag anything that i feel is too much with 'irl gore' too.

if youve read this far id appreciate it if you liked the post but its not required or anything

. ╱|、

₊˚⊹♡ (˚ˎ 。7

₊ |、˜〵 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

. ˚ じしˍ,)ノ

tags

➵ 👑 (for my daddy)

➵ soft

➵ sweet

➵ sick

➵ hard

➵ sharp

➵ fragile

➵ holy

➵ home

➵ diary posting (for concepts and personal posts and such)

➵ wishlist posting (transparents/pngs with links to item)

[red1culous]

Oh part 2

Part 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7

“Where the hell are you?” Emily sounds breathless through the phone.

“And hello to you too” you cooly answer mouthing to Sam, Steve and Wanda that your business partner was on the phone. They nod in understanding and quieten down slightly.

“I swear to God if they’ve kidnapped you and you need help getting out of there just…just cough” she adds and you smile touched by her concern.

“No Em it’s fine, I’m fine…” you say shaking your head a little.

“So you’re ok?”

“Yes I’m fi—“

“Did you meet her? Is that why you’re taking so long? God if you need time there just let me know and I’ll…I’ll handle things this end although I know jack shit about baking and all I can do is reheat stuff so if you nee—“ she rambles on before you interrupt her mile and minute word diarrhoea.

“Can you please calm down!” you chuckle into the phone, “everything’s ok I’m just catching up with Steve, Sam and Wanda is all.”

“Oh thank God” you hear her let out a breath.

“And there’s a whole stock of freshly made goodies in the fridge if need more out front” you add.

Emily unceremoniously ends the call with you blaming an insistent customer and you pocket your phone rejoining your friends back towards the main house. 

Back in the kitchen you are greeted by the frazzled faces of the catering staff. The boys and Wanda excuse themselves to go freshen up for the charity event leaving you to watch Pepper fuss over the presentation of the food and drinks. She returns your smile as she continues to micromanage everything.

You start to arrange your muffins, cupcakes and lemon cake onto platters that had been set out for you. Once done you stand aside to admire your handiwork.

“I knew you were the right person for the job” Pepper says as you look up to find the once buzzing kitchen now empty and peacefully quiet.

“Somehow I think you made a rather big gamble on me here” you narrow your eyes. 

She shrugs. “What makes you say that?” she asks.

“Well for one thing, you’ve never once tried any of my baking” you tilt your head to one side challenging her. “So I think this is more about you playing peacemaker rather than my ability to bake, hmm?” You move to stand in front of her. “How many bakers did you have one standby if I didn’t show up?”

“Y/N!” she gasps as if shocked by the accusation.

You return her stern gaze.

“STELLA���S BAKERY!” she finally admits as she breaks into a fit of laughter.

“I knew it!” you say triumphantly. 

“OK but while you were catching up I tried one of the muffins and they’re really good!” she grabs both your hands and looks at you fondly.

“I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult” you swing your interlocked hands back and forth a little.

“The former, Y/N, take it as the former” she smiles tugging you forward into a hug. “I missed you. We really missed you.” She pulls away a little giving your outfit a silent head-to-toe appraisal. “You should join us.”

“Oh no Pep I can’t do that” you say not missing the look of hurt that flashes through her eyes. She gives you the weirdest pout blinking slowly for added effect throwing in a ‘pwease’ for good measure. “URGH! Ok fine but on condition that you treat me like I’m part of the catering staff and don’t pay me any extra attention. Deal?”

She agrees leaving a wet kiss on your cheeks and trotting off saying that there was a tablecloth emergency that needed tending to. 

You make your way into the large living room. The windows were adorned with billowy silk curtains that danced in the wind and the handful of people loitering there looked as if they were born with actual silver spoons in their mouths. Everyone looked perfect. Whereas you, you looked presentable but more like the poor cousin that got an invite because your uncle and auntie felt bad for you.  

Do any of these people even eat? you think to yourself.

Wanda walks up to you and hands you a crystal flute containing liquid gold. “Wanda should you really be fraternising with the help?” you tease accepting the flute as she sticks her tongue out at you.

“And yes they do eat…just not as often as us mere mortals” she adds coming to stand beside you. 

“Speak for yourself Ms-Toned-and-Tanned-and-Dentally-Superior” you sass back. She chokes on her wine at your joke and loops her arm in yours leading you through the large French doors out onto the patio. 

“I didn’t think I’d miss this view as much” you ponder aloud. She quirks an eyebrow at you over the brim of her glass. “The bay in the distance, those Eucalyptus trees…and the sky!” You pause taking a big breath of air, “I mean wow, just look at that shimmering peach sky.”

“Anything I can do to convince you to come back?” she says as you both look out into the distance. “Your room is still just the way you left it.”

“Wanda…” you turn to face her, “I don’t know how I’d be able to make that work.” You watch her for a moment. She has the type of serene, classic beauty that begs to be studied. Her features had a flawless creaminess to it, understated but demanding attention all the same.

“Thanks” she says softly as her rosy lips curl into a small smile.

“What for?” you reply turning your attention away from her and back to the view in front of you. 

“For thinking I’m beautiful” she laughs at you.

Coming from anyone else, that would have sounded smarmy, but this was Wanda, one of your closest and dearest friends. “First of all…” you say, “get out of my head.” She turns to face you as her once composed face breaks into a toothy grin. “Second of all…” you continue, “you’re welcome and you are beautiful.”

“Anyway…,” Wanda says taking your now empty glass of wine and handing it back to the black suited waiter making his rounds, “she does miss you, you know.”

Your stomach does a not-so-little-flip. “Wanda please…”

“And she’s here. She saw you coming into the house this morning…” she continues.

“Wan—“ 

“No let me finish…she said you looked good” she adds leaning closer and lowering her voice conspiratorially.

She still thinks I look good? Shit! She gives you one compliment and you’re already rolling over. Why don’t you just wag your tail too while you’re at it.

“I-I don’t know what you want me to do with that information” you shrug trying your best to seem indifferent. 

“Y/N you can’t lie to me I can read your mind and it’s super loud right now” she says pinching your cheeks as you swat her hands away. “Some people are just too proud to make the first move even when they know they ought to.”

You sigh. The ludicrous situation you had found yourself in desperately called for more wine. You grab two flutes from a passing waiter and hand one to Wanda which she gratefully accepts. This was going to be one hell of a day.

----

Tagging: @thewidowintheweb   @natasharomanoffismywife  @imnotasuperhero  @cybeleceto  @silverwing2522  @thelastavenger-3000  @peggycarter-steverogers  @rooskaya-yelena  @blackwidowromonoff  @lesbian-x-blackwidow  @nowthisisliving27   @izalesbean  @aaron-despair  @marvelfansince08love  @rileigh519   @wannabe-fic-reader  @hcartbyheart  @marvel-randomness  @thewitchandtheassassin  @username23345  @xixxiixx  @rebeliz777  @summergeezburr  @frostedfavesmain  @higherfurther-romanova​ @sapphicluxanna

[beware-of-you-98]

BAU as College Professors AU

*cracks knuckles*

Penelope

penelope is a graphic design professor

she loves teaching kids about the wonders of photoshop!!

hates illustrator and indesign with a burning passion

(the illustrator pen tool can fucking choke for all she cares)

(AND HOW THE FUCK DO YOU PUT THE FRONT AND COVER TOGETHER IN INDESIGN!?!?)

(she really hates both applications sm 😭)

is always reluctant to teach them but does it begrudgingly

(she’s just glad there’s other professors in the department that teach editorial and graphic illustration)

teaches photography!!

encourages the students to be as expressive as they want to be with their pictures!!!

she’ll be just as enthusiastic to see a close up of a sneaker as she is to see a sunset landscape shot

teaches the graphic design studio classes too!!

she always has music playing!!

half the time, her students come into the class and her glasses are all skewed, her hands are covered in paint or glue and some abstract art piece is sitting on her desk

when the students ask her what it is, she just gives the projects human names

“hey professor... what did you make there?” “oh, this?? her name is... pam.... yeah, pam”

she doesn’t offer up any further explination than that

and the students just accept it

her office light is always off

but she has multiple fairy lights in various colors hung up

her office is v inviting!!!

students come to her to vent or to talk about their problems bc the campus therapist doesn’t help all lmao

she always has on the most unique outfits but she pulls them off so well

a ray of sunshine tbh!!

Spencer

teaches major science and math courses

he teaches chemistry but only chem for majors in chemistry

it’s not that he can’t teach chem for non majors

but he sometimes gets too ahead of himself and forgets he’s teaching a course for non majors

it’s easier for him to teach for majors because the students can follow his ramblings better

he teaches upper level math courses and usually only has like three students in those classes

he’ll sit up on his desk and debate with the students for the entire hour about the riemann hypothesis

he gets excited because the students are just as enthusiastic as he is

he is two extremes

he either shows up to his classroom like a half hour early and writes out all his notes on the board so that when the students come in, he can go right into lecture

or he’ll show up two minutes before class starts with his hair disheveled, his tie undone and his expression glazed over and just be like “listen up i woke up late and just downed an entire pot of coffee i brewed with several cans of monster energy—i don’t exist on this dimension anymore”

on those days, he lets his students work on other projects for other classes because he knows it’s not fair to ask his students to focus if he’s not

he helps them with their homework

penelope brings him lunch sometimes to make sure he’s eating

he appreciates it a lot because between lesson plans and grading, he sometimes forgets to eat

he’s absolutely the youngest prof on campus

sometimes even his students are older than he is

but everyone addresses him correctly and respects him bc he’s really chill

his office is a disorganized mess

there’s files and papers all over his desk

and a sculpture penelope made for him (she named that one “roger”)

JJ

psychology professor

she really has a passion for teaching and learning about human psychology

(she may have started to become interested in psychology bc her sister was in the psch honors course before she died)

she comes across as a little hostile and unapproachable tbh

but she’s young

and she’s attractive

and she’s not conveniently what people think a professor looks like

she’ll respect her students if they respect her

she didn’t graduate the top of her class and work her ass off for the degree to not be respected

if there’s any inappropriate comments aimmed towards her or anyone in the class, she kicks the aggressor out immediately

she stands at the front of the room and lectures for the beginning part of the semester

once she’s built a good rapport with her students (and vise versa), she becomes more chill

she’ll sit on the edge of her desk and encourage discussion rather than following a book or a set plan

(she finds it’s more interesting that way anyway)

sometimes her students will show up ten minutes before class starts just to talk with her once they’re comfortable with her

she always answers her emails students send her (queen shit tbh 👑)

some kids in the psych major course playfully call her “mom” because she always asks them how they’re doing and about their week

(she hasn’t decided how she feels about it, but she also lets it slide)

always wears pants suits but cuffs the sleeves to the jackets

her office always smells like eucalyptus because she has a small mist diffuser plugged in

she also has a small fish tank with a beta fish inside (its the appropriate size too!!)

(she let a student name the fish—it’s name is sir bubbles of argon)

she also has a sculpture from penelope (“her name is maxine”)

her desk is very organized and clean!!

there’s a small couch in her office and her door is always open

sometimes, students will come in if they’re having a hard time and need someone to talk to

they know jj is there to listen and she always seems to understand (she doesn’t judge them either)

Emily

teaches three languages, both for majors and non majors

spanish, french and russian

(she’s also quite fluent in arabic and italian and can hold her own if she’s speaking in german or mandarin, but the students don’t need to know that)

she’s actually very intimidating lmao

students are so scared of her 😭

she’s serious af

(she smiles in class sometimes though!!)

(besides, she’s only serious inside the classroom)

(outside the classroom, she might even be as approachable as penelope)

always dressed in expensive black suits, polished heeled shoes with very dark makeup and a “don’t fuck with me” steely attitude to match

she also wears expensive watches

she always stands at the front of the class and slowly paces the entire hour

one time someone decided to fuck off in her spanish 101 class

she didn’t even yell at him, she glared

rumor has it the kid was never spotted on campus again after that

(BOY SHE SCARED HIM SO BAD HE DROPPED TF OUT)

despite that, her classes are some of the easiest to take

one because emily has a way of teaching that helps all students understand

and two because her voice is naturally very easy to listen to

students taking her french 101 are going to leave the class speaking fluent conversational french

she also doesn’t tolerate people being racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, etc in her class

if she catches a bigoted comment someone makes in her class, she kicks them immediately

she brings in her cat sometimes

he’s all black and his name is sergio

(he’s her esa that she brings in when she’s feeling really stressed out)

he’s clipped on a harness and sits on her shoulder or on her desk

if he meows, she accepts it as an answer

it’s the only time the students ever see professor emily prentiss as soft

well

other than the days she has the class watch foreign films because the students can tell emily has a fondness for them

her office is pretty organized like jj’s

instead of it being light and inviting, emily decorated her office on a more dark side

she has a few animal skulls, crystals and other gothic memorabilia on her desk or bookshelf

she has a small cat bed on the corner of her desk that sergio sleeps in

on the other corner is a sculpture penelope made her

(it kinda looks like a crow and emily named it kurt)

really, the only colors in her office are dark, deep purples and the small lesbian pride flag sticker on the back of her laptop

Derek

teaches history classes

but like modern history

from like 1940s to present

he refuses to follow most western history books bc they’re not accurate like at all

in his first year of teaching, the dean of his department made him use a book and he hated every second of it

how accurate could the information be if they portray king tut as a white guy???

he graduated under one of the best historians in the country

he also traveled a lot after he graduated and met a lot of people that had first hand experience with major historical events

that’s really what he bases his teachings off of—first hand experiences and encounters

every two weeks or so, he’ll invite in guest speakers to his classes to talk about what they went through (depending on his lesson plans)

that’s how he likes to teach and learn (bc he always loves to learn new things!!)

this is random, but also he is the type of professor to randomly box jump up onto a desk

he also sits in chairs backwards and has a more laid back style to teaching

his exams are based on what the students can learn from history rather than the information itself

he’s always dressed super casual!!

solid color, short sleeve button ups are a favorite!! (no tie)

he gets along with all the students

he’ll talk to the athletes about their games but sound just as enthusiastic and genuine talking with students who are majors in fine arts about their projects

he’s just a v down to earth professor tbh!!

he brings in clooney so much

like... every friday

it’s just another bonus of taking his history classes!!

he and penelope are dating

his office is full of sculptures she makes for him 🥺

he drops by her graphic design studio class with clooney to help out or even to just watch

he’s supportive and encouraging of penelope and her art!!

other than the sculptures penelope makes him, his office is a bit more disorganized than jj’s or emily’s, but cleaner than spencer’s

he has a few papers scattered on his desk but mostly he’s a little more put together

his office door has a small basketball hoop attached that he plays around with if he’s bored (and if penelope is busy)

both he and penelope have a dog bed in their office and water bowls for clooney when he comes in

Hotch

law professor

is the most intimidating professor on campus

like

seriously

if students think professor prentiss is intimidating, they haven’t met professor hotchner

he stands in the front of the room and goes over his lecture without pausing or asking questions

his voice is naturally low and intimidating and he actually never smiles

his attire and appearance is always so professional

suits

ties that are tied so tight, they look like they’re choking him

shoes so polished, he can see his reflection in them

hair always styled neatly

pants and jacket are always wrinkle free

his classes are difficult

not just because of the subject matter, but because he has a very organized, straight forward method to his teaching

students wouldn’t dare act up in his class—they’d be absolute idiots to

he’s quiet and reserved outside the classroom

if the others hear anyone talking shit about hotch behind his back, they’re always quick to come to his defense

they actually know hotch

they know he puts on a hardass exterior, but really he’s just a softie

he always lets them hang in his office with him

he listens to spencer’s ramblings and is extremely patient with him

he has lunch with emily every other day

even if she’s a pain in his ass 99% of the time, he likes that she sticks around and that he can trust her

he shows up to all of penelope’s art shows

and sometimes sits in on derek’s lectures when he has guest speakers

jj brings him pastries from the coffee shop on campus sometimes

he knows that he can come to her if he ever has anything he needs to talk about

(he never opens up to her but he really appreciates the sentiment nonetheless)

penelope has definitely made hotch a few sculptures

(he keeps them at home, but he does have one of her paintings hanging in his office)

speaking of his office it’s hands down the most organized out of all of them

his desk is so clean besides the picture of his son he proudly displays at the corner

he always has his lights off and his door shut

he seems so unapproachable, especially in class

but sometimes his lecture notes have crayon scribbles all over the page

or a small sock will fall out of his briefcase

and maybe, even for a moment, his serious demeanor falls when he spots them

and it almost reassures the students that he is human

Rossi

actually he’s the only one besides maybe reid i can see being a criminology professor

is a retired fbi agent

and successful author

so like that hasn’t changed from canon

but because he doesn’t work for the fbi anymore, he has absolutely no chill and tells all secrets

he’ll be like

talking to his class about a case he worked on in ‘83

and be halfway talking about details of cases that were supposed to be confidential

he’ll pause and go “oops” but keep talking lmaooo

penelope actually never made him a sculpture

instead she made him a coffee mug she made on the wheel and glazed herself!! (she even made her own glaze bc she’s extra like that)

carved on the side is “world’s best italian dad”

(this is because when emily introduced rossi to the group she was like “yeah he’s kinda like my dad” and now everyone calls him “dad”)

(he loves it so much though and proudly accepts his title)

he loves his mug so much and uses it every single day!!!

he’s the only professor besides penelope that let his students refer to him without the title of “professor”

he gives off kind old grandpa vibes

and that he’s only teaching because he really doesn’t have anything better to do during his retirement

but he’s chill and his class is interesting to take

(plus he really does love to teach)

he’ll ramble on and on about his “golden years” as an agent

he will especially talk a student’s ear off if they come up to him and tell him that they read one [or all] of his books

he writes a different quote on his board every single day

his attire is always business casual

he sits on the edge of the desk or on a swivel chair because it’s comfy

he was doing a lecture on jack the ripper and just pushed himself around on the swivel chair, slowly spinning around the front of the room

his voice kept changing in volume every few words because of him facing the wall and then a few moments later facing the classroom

his students refer to him as a “living breathing meme”

he has no idea what the fuck that means

but he take it as a compliment

his office is empty because he goes home after he’s done with classes lmao

he doesn’t do paperwork

or fuck with technology (he never fucking responds to emails smh)

so he has no need for an office

[atruththatyoudeny]

Happy 28th! I read shockingly little fic this month so I’m going to support some fic fests that are currently running.There are so many amazing new fics all around so make sure to check them out and leave lots of love for the authors ♥ @onedirectionbigbang: Big Bang Round 4 just finished this month but you can find a complete round up of all the fics on the blog | AO3 collection here @1daboficfest: you can also find some rare pair a/b/o’s here | AO3 collection here @hlmpregficfest: The mpreg fest just started posting last week | AO3 collection here @wipsanonymousfest: support authors to complete their wips here | AO3 collection here

The eight fics I actually finished this month are under the cut:

The Earl and His Duke | QuickedWeen | Regency - historical - friends to lovers - light angst - smut - 53k Lord Tomlinson, the elusive Duke of Leeds, has suddenly emerged in London for the first time in six years. He is believed to have been abroad. He is believed to have been widowed. He is believed to want to withdraw from society. Harry doesn’t know what is true and what isn’t. He only knows that the older brother of one of his best friends is back in town to stay, and that time has taken him from merely the most beautiful man Harry knew, to the most handsome man to ever walk the earth. A man whose gaze probably still skips over Harry like he doesn’t exist the same way it did when they were young.

Double Trouble | Beanno28 | mpreg - canon divergence - smut - 23k Exactly five minutes later, Harry walked out of the room with his head down, focusing on doing up the last of the buttons on his shirt. “There you are,” a familiar male voice startled Harry. “What were you… oh, I see you must have found some poor stagehand to sneak off with.” Harry smirked, thinking about his time with Louis, “I guess you could say that.” “You’d better make a quick stop in the bathroom before joining everyone else on the bus, you stink,” Paul, one of their security guards, advised. Or the one where Harry and Louis start secretly hooking up while on tour and Harry ends up pregnant.

eucalyptus | docklands | a/b/o - kid fic - scenting - lactation kink - breeding kink - 46k Harry didn't mean to get pregnant at all. When little Agnes comes along, his bachelor life takes a turn and he has to figure out how to single parent, with the occasional help from his best friend and co-worker, Zayn. Everything is running smoothly until Agnes starts acting strange, crying non-stop, sleeping at the most unconventional hours and not caring that she's ruining Harry's life. Her doctor says she's just an infant and that there's nothing wrong with her. Harry's instincts tell him the doctor's wrong and that he needs to seek a second opinion. Agnes' new paediatrician, Louis Tomlinson, is enthusiastic, passionate about his job and a little too charming for Harry's lonely heart to take. More than figuring out what's wrong with her, Louis ends up revealing secrets about Harry's life he had never even dreamed about.

Lunar Waltz | outropeace | a/b/o - 19th century - marriage of convenience - hate to love - mystery - enemies to lovers - angst - deception - smut - 57k “You want me to seduce an alpha,” Louis hissed. “I want you to marry an alpha. It’s the only way I could ever get back on my feet. You didn’t think a few dances at a ball would do anything to Alastair’s reputation or mine...” “And what if Alastair comes back? Have you thought about him in all of this? You’re going to marry him to an alpha he doesn’t even know!” “Oh he does know him, in fact... he’d be ecstatic to know he got to marry him.” Louis’ blood ran cold, already suspecting who was the alpha the earl was talking about. “Who is he?” he asked anyways, hating how fragile and almost scared his voice sounded. “Lord Harry Styles.” Louis' stomach dropped, the words came smelling like danger, sending a bolt of fear down his spine, the Earl wanted Louis to seduce The Duke of Death. Or Louis has to replace his (missing) twin brother and marry one of the most dangerous alphas of the kingdom.

Unveiled | phdmama | a/b/o - royalty - magic - 60k The train grinds to a halt and Harry leans forward in his eagerness to take it all in. It’s a gorgeous Spring day, the sky the same intense blue that he knows from home, which comforts him. There’s much here that looks almost familiar, but then so much that is new and strange to his eyes. The bustling station platform and winding streets beyond paved in cobblestones look much like home. There are vehicles ranging from small to very large, some with strange and unusual shapes of which he can only guess the purpose. But most surprising are the people. There is a crowd gathered, filled with men and women, some in what looks to be a military uniform, some in what must be the street clothes in this Land. There are no robes. And not a single one of them is veiled.

Stubborn Hearts | Rearviewdreamer | social worker Louis - kid fic - foster care - adoption - angst - 33k Louis’ job description as a child social worker doesn’t cover half of what he does, but he doesn’t mind going above and beyond and putting his whole heart into it, especially when it comes to Sydney.

The Money Mark | brightgolden | a/b/o - Sugar Daddy/Sugar Baby - exes to lovers - pining - nesting - age difference - smut - 52k Harry's heart beats faster in his chest as the name sinks in. The Tomlinson name is awfully familiar, and he isn’t sure how many rich Tomlinsons are out here in London, but he knew one. Seven years ago. Like all fine things in the world, Louis Tomlinson ages exceptionally well. OR Where Louis is Harry’s first sugar daddy who dumped him over text and their paths cross, seven years later.

Is it a sign? | bluegreenish | a/b/o - deaf character - 25k “Also, I didn’t mean it literally,” Harry continues his rambling, gesticulating to support his point. “You don’t owe me a beer and I surely don’t expect you to buy me anything, it was just to start a conversation but you’re obviously not interested in that. Which, again, maybe next time an omega, or anyone really, approaches you, you could convey -” To Harry’s surprise, he’s interrupted by the handsome stranger, who’s been weirdly fixated on his lips the whole time. What a creep! “You speak so fast, I can’t read your lips like this.” What? Harry’s frown deepens and he just stares at the man, waiting for him to explain. Because why the hell would he need to read Harry’s lips? They’re not in some detective movie. The man rolls his eyes at Harry’s obvious lack of understanding. “I’m deaf,” he huffs and points to his ear. And oh. Yikes. That’s kind of embarrassing. or, the one where Harry meets a certain handsome alpha at his sister's wedding and learns that speaking verbally doesn't have to be the only means of communication.

[lovenona]

I just haad to say thank you for the free serotonin that you have provided me with through the last artist sukuna post

it's just... ✨beautifull✨ we are slowly building up this au

BUT CAN YOU IMAGINE HIM GETTING MORE AND MORE FRUSTRATED WITH THE LACK OF ATTENTION WERE HE'S KIND OF POUTING

and then there need to be a project done in which you have the option to work in groups and NO MATTER WHAT this proud cherry haired idiot WILL work alone but geto won't he came to y/n and they really need to work in a group if they want to get this done so of course y/n is happily gonna agree to the offer of geto to work together they do be viben after all which ultimately leads to the fact that y/n is gonna give sukuna even less attention (it probably doesn't even get on his nerves that much that y/n works with geto its just the lack of attention and ultimately time spending with you that result from it)

ah i am sorry I was rambling again😂

anyways hope you have a nice day and don't stress yourself too much with answering always happy to see you post❤️

babe let me just say ur brain is massive and i thank u from the bottom of my heart – anyway here’s the original post for everyone about to embark on this godforsaken journey with art student sukuna and our new friend pretentious fuck geto suguru 

if you thought you were pitiful at drawing, your sculptural skills are on another level of true and utter shit. you cannot, for the life of you, create things out of clay. you despise carving anything into wood. your pottery faithfully collapses on you whenever you try. you hate working with glass. you would have dropped the class, honest, if you didn’t desperately need it in order to fulfill your major requirements and graduate on time. 

all in all, it’s an awful class created solely to tank your gpa – you don’t understand what you’re doing, you don’t understand what anything is supposed to look like, and you sure as fuck don’t understand how anyone else seems to have their shit together all the time. when you glance around the room, no one, not even the famous ryomen sukuna, has trouble making their materials turn into something recognizable.

(and, in true sukuna fashion, he loves to make sure you know how fucking untalented you are.) 

so when anthropology-and-ceramics king geto suguru asks if you want to be partners for the next big art project, you agree without a second thought. you’ve been talking to him recently, small talk before class, and for all his pretentious faults, you think he’s delightfully hot as fuck with a smooth voice to match. he wears those crisp, expensive button-downs that he bought at overpriced local craft markets. he always smells like cedar and eucalyptus; he brings a different tote bag to every class, his favorite being one he got as a gift for subscribing to the new yorker. he shops organic only and throws around the words “fair trade” and “bourgeoisie” and “means of production” with the ease that sukuna throws around the words “fuck” and “shit.” 

you think geto is fascinating. and maybe he talks down to you when explaining his anthropology knowledge, he absolutely does, but when he gazes at you with those warm eyes and offers to help you learn how to sculpt and raise your grades, you can’t help but agree with a pair of big pathetic doe eyes. 

why wouldn’t you? you’re just here for a good time, after all.

so when you giggle as geto places his sinfully smooth, manicured hands over yours while teaching you how to use the pottery wheel, you don’t think much of it. you think he’s cute and warm. you’d be a fool to notice the dark annoyance radiating from the other corner of the room.

ryomen sukuna always works alone. but what he didn’t count on was that you wouldn’t be working alone with him. 

it’s not that you’re working with geto, he swears. it’s that you’re not working with him. his ears feel strangely empty without your argumentative quips, without the way you tell him he’s infuriating and annoying every time he tells you something lewd just to fluster you. it’s strangely empty without you both arguing about the difference between great artists and sell-outs – were you here, in his corner of the room, maybe sukuna would have tried to tell you michelangelo was a loser just to see what you would say. 

but you’re not with him. you’re listening to geto tell you about the time he went to study abroad in germany and how he took a trip to morocco where he tried some amazing food you’ve never heard of. he’s telling you about the time he helped make tampons in botswana after his senior year of high school and all of the other deliciously precocious things he has done for the sake of human rights and anti-capitalism. 

(you’re killing the environment, you know, geto often admonishes you when you stumble into class with your cup of coffee. that cup is going to end up in a landfill. he always taks a sip from his hydroflask for emphasis. it’s sleek and black with an oxfam sticker on it.

and sure, you know that your cup is going to become trash. geto doesn’t have to be an annoying fuck and tell you when it’s only eleven in the morning and he drove a literal moped to campus. but still, with that silky man-bun, everything he does is okay.) 

but understand that sukuna doesn’t hate geto. sukuna craves attention, and he absolutely cannot stand being ignored. he’ll pout without realizing it, pursing his lips and wondering what kind of circus act he needs to perform to win back your presence. should he get another tattoo? cuss out the professor? offer to fuck you senseless in the third-floor bathroom? he’s not sure – he’s never not been seen before. ryomen sukuna doesn’t know what it’s like to come in second. 

so he intercepts you after class; in a manner that is both sukuna-and-not-sukuna, he’ll casually throw one of his heavy arms over your shoulders, subtly pulling you away from geto’s aura, wrapping you in his scent of earth and leather and sex appeal. “come on, puppy,” he says, sultry and annoying and condescending all wrapped in one, tapping his ring-clad fingers against your arm. “you’re supposed to help me write my paper, aren’t you?” it’s not a question, it’s a demand, one you know deep down that you would rather die than shy away from. 

you might not like sukuna, you tell yourself, but there’s something about him, the way he talks and moves and exists in the world, that makes you unable to shy away. there’s something about him that always makes you want more without you quite knowing why. 

(he kissed you, once. sometimes you wonder if you would like it to happen again.) 

and you’re still nestled under sukuna’s arm, trapped in his orbit and following him to his favorite empty classrooms, when geto calls back to you, wondering if you’re still interested in going to the avant-garde poetry reading with him tomorrow night. 

he’s going to present a poem he wrote on the terrors inflicted on south america by the united states, geto had explained earlier when his hands were on yours. it was going to be some real, hard-hitting poetry, none of that “rupi kaur bullshit.” he thought it might enlighten you to join him, perhaps in more ways than one.

you pretend you don’t notice the way sukuna’s arm tightens around your shoulders when you tell geto with a flirtatious smile that you can’t wait. 

[clockworkowl]

I don’t know why but I have spent way too much time developing a headcanon about how just about everyone behaves when either they are ill/injured or you/other characters are ill/injured. Will this lead to me actually writing a fic? (the odds aren’t great given how long it’s been since I’ve even written anything with my own characters let alone trying to stay true to the sketch of someone else’s) Who knows, but I guess this is the closest I’ve come to writing anything at all in far too long.

Sholmes:

*I think we can all agree that Sholmes is the absolute worst when he’s sick.

*He’s totally the type who being the slightest bit ill turns into a complete dramatic bitch and hams up the tiniest of colds like he’s about to die from the consumption. He lightly groans as though the effort of extending his arm fully to take a Kleenex out of the box himself is too much. Like my old rat D’onofrio his breathing is fine if he has no idea you are home, but the second he notes your presence every breath is a wheezy death rattle until you come and worry and fuss over him until his attention meter is full up.

*But also as soon as there’s something he actually wants to do he’s magically cured and runs off without even putting on a coat.

*In a modern AU he for some reason spends a lot of time on WebMD either convincing you that his allergy-related headache is a rare usually fatal disease. Or that you probably have a rare malady that is exacerbated by eating pheasant he should probably go ahead and eat your pheasant because he’s only thinking of your health.

* When you are sick it is unpredictable at best, but it depends on how sick you actually are. There will probably be a variety of dubious cures and tinctures which you should probably ignore unless Iris made them.

*He has literally tied Kazuma to a bed (this will make more sense shortly).

*He will also somehow claim to find Ryunosuke’s take all the meds at once approach reasonable.

Kazuma:

*Asogi is also a terrible patient who will drive you to want to drink, but in the opposite fashion to Sholmes.

*He’s the ‘it’s only a flesh wound’ type who will thoroughly ignore any and all evidence of illness or injury claiming he is perfectly fine and hale until he is half dead with it and passes out

*Even after he regains consciousness will continue to argue that he will be in tomorrow he only needs to run it under a cold tap.

*You will have to tie him to a bed to get him to take doctor’s orders, and then he will be sullen about it.

*Once you get him into a room and confiscate clothes he could go outside in where he is sulking he will change tactics and he will order you around a lot trying to make you angry enough to throw your hands up and let him take care of himself, except with Ryunosuke who he knows this won’t work on so he just tries to wheedle him into bringing his clothes back and makes double entendres and suggestive comments about being tied to the bed.

*When it is you who is sick he will become the overbearing one and you won’t be sure whether that is because he worries about you or because it’s revenge for when he was sick.

Ryunosuke:

*Ryunosuke is challenging when he’s ill because he will acknowledge the illness and neither exaggerate or ignore it, but he is too concerned about whether it inconveniences everyone else for him to be ill, so he will try to downplay or hide the fact he’s as sick as he is.

*He’ll try to get well as quick as possible hence doing dumb stuff like taking all the meds at once.

*He can be reasoned with, like you could convince him to go home and take a day off, or that if he shows up sick he’ll get you all sick, but he’ll try to work from home or come back before he’s 100% or he’ll also try to prevent anyone from helping him because he feels like he’s causing extra work or that he might get someone sick.

*Can also be intimidated into being a good patient with the threat of a Susato Takedown or Barok just glaring at him until he caves.

*When you are sick he worries over you and runs around trying to make everything easy for you. Sholmes will take advantage of that to the max, so he must be sent elsewhere to avoid that.

*Once threatened to tie Kazuma to the bed so he would follow doctor’s orders. Once he realized how suggestive that sounded and got flustered he gave up on that plan (even though everyone agreed it was actually the only plan that was likely to be successful.) Now they rib him about it every time either he or Asogi get ill.

Susato:

*Susato is level-headed and actually a fairly good patient to no one’s surprise, provided she is the only one who is ill.

*She will also be worried about being an inconvenience, but has the sense to do what’s needed to get better and then tries to make it up to everyone after even though no one thinks that’s necessary

*She won’t let anyone help her though unless she really needs it. As she doesn’t want them to get sick or to fuss.

*If others are sick she will tend to put them all before her even if she’s sicker, and gets stubborn about this. This has led to at least one occasion of Sholmes dropping the theatrics and Kazuma acting like a model patient at the same time.

* When you’re sick she is no nonsense and actually helpful. She spends a lot of time shooting down Sholmes’ webMD self diagnoses, and makes Ryunosuke give her his prescriptions so she can administer the dosage because she doesn’t have time to drag him to the hospital. She has also had to threaten the Susato takedown on Kazuma more than once if he doesn’t go see the doctor today.

Gina:

*Gina is in the Kazuma mold of patient, except when you finally force her to act like she is as sick as she is, she turns into Sholmes.

*When you are ill she is aggressive about you taking care of yourself and worries, she has a lot of past trauma with people dying from her time trying to take care of her orphan army in the rookeries.

*Is not above threats, guilt-trips, and shooting you with a smoke grenade full of vitamin c or eucalyptus vap-o-rub mist.

*has pickpocketed Ryunosuke’s prescription to give to Susato more than once to avoid him taking them all at once.

Iris-

*When ill Iris is a lot more like Susato, but she totally tries to invent her own tea-based cures, and she will also downplay or hide that she’s sick because she doesn’t want anyone to worry about her, but doesn’t go overboard with it the way Ryunosuke does.

*She is pretty much immune to Sholmes’ theatrics at this point, but sometimes will make up new imaginary web md illnesses that he might have to amuse herself.

*She will mother you with tea-based or soup-based cures which you will be safe consuming and will make you feel better emotionally if not physically, but often physically as well.

*Has also modified one of her smoke grenade guns to fire eucalytpus vap-o-rub mists, and also so they can knock Kazuma or Gina out safely and temporarily so they can be made to convalesce when they are being extra stubborn.

Barok-

* somehow Barok is the best patient of all of them. It’s probably the only time that he is truly polite and courteous with no sarcastic requests for forgiving discourtesies.

*This comes from some combination of Klimt telling him as a boy about a noble’s responsibility to the people of his estate (and his actually taking this concept to heart unlike a lot of nobles) and the sheer number of times he has had to rely on doctor’s, nurses, and staff due to the numerous attempts on his life over the years.

*He will downplay the seriousness of an injury especially out of habit and so as not to worry those who he cares about (though he finds it shocking always that anyone cares about him) but he will always get it seen to and respect orders provided they come from a professional and there are reasons given.

*He will insist that his staff gets things if he needs them and not you, but this is because he wants the staff to feel comfortable and he pays them extra compensation for it. Were he contagious he would not allow them but would pay their wages for them to be away from his home. (This is a big secret and his staff is very loyal to him even without this money. It’s just like the chalices and vintages all the theatrics of it is to fund these families of artisans. Charity without charity.)

*When you are sick, except maybe Sholmes who he just can’t even, he is kind and no nonsense. He thinks you should come to stay in his guest room and been seen by his doctor, that way you’ll get the best care and recover quicker. He’ll have his staff take care of you (but also report back to him if you aren’t being cooperative. He will tell you to think nothing of it, you’re friends and he’s rich and has no family left (except Iris and she doesn’t even live with him) so what else would he do with it, besides it provides wages.

*He is not above intimidating Ryunosuke (sometimes also Gina ) into convalescing as they should.

*This doesn’t work with Kazuma who he had also considered tying to the bed, but instead decided to let him have it his way and then when he got bad enough and passed out took him to the estate anyway and made sure the doctors told him exactly how much longer he had to convalesce than he would have if he’d listened to Barok in the first place.

*He brings this up every single time so they can just skip to the part where Kazuma sulks and is a grouchy patient.

*Is the only person that doesn’t join in with the group pastime of ribbing Ryunosuke about threatening to tie Kazuma to the bed To make him follow doctor’s orders.

[stupid-stew]

me when i project onto lilith, eda, and lilith all in one go

anyways take my headcanons or die.

me when the

LILITH

she hates people touching her hair

she still has a stuffed animal from her childhood, she kept it all the way through the coven

she’s always cold and wears lots of layers because of it

she never learned how to ride a bike

she doesn’t like strawberries, luz makes her try one and she vows to never let one near her again

whenever she gets stressed she repeatedly pops her knuckles, or makes the motion of doing so

in school her least favorite thing was verbal presentations, she always got nervous and would get low marks on the speaking part and it would kill her grade

she loves reading for research but doesn’t find much joy in fiction books

whenever someone shares an interest with her she prefers to let them talk and instead only talks to make a correction or add a point every so often

however when someone DOESNT share an interest and asks her about it, she’ll talk for hours if you don’t stop her

her back always hurts and she can’t be bothered to find out why

she HATES the taste of coffee, no amount of cream and sugar can save it, this wasn’t a lot of help in the coven

she only wears long sleeves because her coven brand takes up the majority of her upper right arm

she mentally counts her steps when walking in public to keep her mind focused

EDA

when she first got the portal she would ditch school to go hang out at the human mall with all the human teens

she used to hate her hair as a kid and chopped it all off when she left school but eventually let it grow beach because she missed it

when she got king she tried enrolling him in preschool but got too nervous about him being away for so long and never took him back after the first day

she allows only people she completely trusts to touch her gem, not even her mom

even though her house is messy she knows EXACTLY where everything is, you ask her for a spoon and she’ll point you to “under the red book on the 3rd chair to your left in the closet on the third floor next to the painting of the purple flowers”

she’s pretty tall even for a witch and most clothes are too short on her so she rips the bottom to make it look like it’s on purpose

she hates silence, except for when she’s trying to sleep

she has a habit of reading aloud every sign she sees

she used some decorations from her childhood room to decorate luz’s room at the owl house, not that she’d ever let luz know that of course

she’s not someone to let her emotions show easily but when someone says something mean to her she thinks about it for days after, she’s sensitive

her darkest secret is that she’s extremely ticklish

she’d never admit it but she did read the azura books to make sure she could kind of follow what luz was talking about

her favorite scent is eucalyptus

she’s deathly afraid of large dogs

she loves to read, she just never can get all that far into a book before something else catches her attention

she LOVES music, all kinds of it, and hums along to every song she hears

she stole all her current jewelry from her mother

she lets luz talk about the human world as much as she wants, even if eda already knows what a koala is she’d listen to luz explain it a million times just to make her happy

LUZ

she used to make up names for all her stuffed animals and would introduce any new ones to all the ones she already had to make sure they didn’t feel like a stranger

her room in the human world is very similar to the ones in the owl house, organized chaos

she hates lasagna, couldn’t tell you why but she does

when she was younger she would chew holes in her jacket sleeves without noticing as a way to keep focused

she cannot stand wearing necklaces

she loves music without words, classical is good for cleaning but you wouldn’t catch her dead listening to baroque music

she never learned to play a musical instrument in school, she taught herself guitar instead

the sound of chip bags opening makes her want to remove her ears and place them in a blender

she keeps every note, postcard, certificate, business card, anything anyone gives her and pins it to her wall

she refused to watch the percy jackson movies

her favorite feeling is wearing a baggy short sleeve tshirt over a tight long sleeve

she loves just smelling all the candles in the store, all of them, she’s not even gonna buy one

if her hands feel too dry and someone so much as breathes in the wrong direction she will end their entire career, it’s just something she hates

she used to bite on pine tree needles as a kid because they tasted so good, now they taste AWFUL

she sleeps on top of a blanket over he sheets

she loves to read but hates going to libraries because she’s expected to be quiet

[littlekatleaf]

I fretted fire

Awake late, feeling some kinda way, so must be writing Roadrat bits. This is pre-Buried in a burning flame

It’s not tonight Where I’m set alight And I blink in sight Of your blinding light ~ Hozier, Would That I

Roadhog rests the handle of the hoe against his leg, presses his fists to the small of his back, and stretches until he’s rewarded with a cracking relief of pressure. Thank Gods, the sun’s dipping close to the horizon, last rays reddened and dulled by the dust that coats everything. Still hotter than a shearer’s armpit though it must be half eight. Been working since dawn with only an hour or so rest in the hottest part of the arvo when Junkrat brought him a pint and a sanger.

Why he’s making this effort he can’t say - land so fucked with radiation and drought nothing’ll grow beyond a bit of Kangaroo Grass and the odd Boxthorn or Eucalyptus. But Junkrat’d gotten the idea in his head that Roadhog’s farm should be a farm. Without animals (Junkrat’s efforts at cattle rustling had, so far, failed), very least they could do would be grow some vegetables. Or something. Junkrat had been so caught by the idea that he’d actually bartered seeds from Bobby, who’d managed to keep Lisa’s garden alive even without her. Must’ve been some high value scrap, too - Bobby didn’t hand seeds to just anyone.

After all that work, Roadhog couldn’t bring himself to tell Junkrat no, so here he is, sweat pooling in the waistband of his jeans and burning his eyes, too much sun stinging along his shoulders. Unreasonably pleased at the neat rows he’s sown. Grow, don’t grow, he can’t control the plants any more than he can the weather… but he’s made the attempt. Junkrat swears he can rig up some sort of irrigation contraption, but Roadhog has his doubts. More than half suspects the claim is born of wanting to avoid the physical labor of planting. Prepping the field and actually sowing the seeds isn’t exactly an afternoon’s stroll, and even less so when the surrounding air feels straight off a barbie.

Lifts a hand to shade his eyes, gazes to the horizon, as if that’ll make the wished-for clouds gather. As if the puff of breeze is anything but hot and dry. Nothing to be seen but kilometers of arid waste. Another, longer, gust of wind, just as hot, lifts the hair from the back of his neck and sends another trickle of sweat down the center of his back. Roadhog frowns. Bushfire weather. The sky looms empty and flat. No hint of relief. But no smoke neither. Reckons it’d be safe enough, for now.

Heads to the house. Needs food and a shower, not necessarily in that order. Door to Junkrat’s workroom is closed but there’s no sounds of tinkering. Figures. No way he’s got enough scrap to actually build something that works.

Roadhog keeps the shower cold and the relief as it washes over him is exquisite. Still relishing the cool drops of water as they slide from the end of his ponytail and down the back of his neck, he rummages in the refrigerator for something to cook.

“Hungry, Rat?” he calls, but there’s no answer. Could be too immersed in plans to hear. Happens like that sometimes, like he’s swallowed whole by whatever’s caught his attention. So Roadhog doesn’t bother waiting for an answer, instead browning the last of the meat. He hums as he chops a couple of rather sad looking carrots, a zucchini that’s on the edge of edible, a capsicum and a few handfuls of wilted cabbage. Garlic, ginger, soy sauce sizzle in the wok and his stomach growls. To his surprise, though, even the scent of food doesn’t bring Junkrat from his room. He frowns, but lets it go. Plates the stir fry, leaves one on the counter - reckons Rat’ll emerge sooner or later.

Takes his own meal to the porch, hopes the breeze still kicking up dust devils will offer some measure of break from the heat. It doesn't. Instead, even as he eats a tension gathers between his brows, along his shoulders, tightening his stomach. Something in the air, an odd heaviness that tastes of electricity. A memory, locked firmly away, threatens to slip free. It chases him back inside and he digs through the cabinets until he finds an old bottle of gut rot whiskey, cracks the lid and takes a long swig, straight. Makes him cough, and the knot of trepidation loosens only slightly. He takes another drink and it burns his esophagus all the way down, pooling in his belly like lava. He keeps drinking anyway, standing in the doorway, eyes trained on the horizon. Watching. Until the last lingering glow of the sun has disappeared and the bottle is empty.

Then he finds himself in front of Junkrat’s closed door. Still no sounds from inside and he raises his fist to knock. But what will he say? What can he say? It’s hot? Feels like something’s coming? He’s afraid? Jesus, even thinking it feels fucking insane. Drops his fist, turns from the door and the odd silence.

Should probably go to bed. A headache hovers at the edges of his awareness threatening hangover, and to hopefully avoid it, he fills a glass of water, finishes it, fills it again. Rubs sweat from his forehead with the back of his wrist. If he goes to bed, though, he’ll have to turn his back to the horizon. Have to close his eyes. Let the wind whine down the chimney… Can't bear it. So he paces. From kitchen to bedroom and back. Only sounds the wind and his own footsteps.

Until the work room door creaks open as he passes it for the hundredth, thousandth, some number beyond counting time. Junkrat freezes in the doorway, Roadhog in the middle of the hallway. Their gazes snag, catch.

Rat’s clutching a blanket around his shoulders, even in the heat. He tries to grin, but the expression’s a brittle and cracking thing. “Heya Hoggie,” he says, voice full of gravel and he coughs.

“...”

“Sorry didn’t give ya a hand with the planting. Been feelin’ sorta…” Sentence trails off and Rat’s gaze goes hazy before a heavy sneeze hastily muffled into the blanket rocks him forward.

“Bless,” Roadhog says but Junkrat waves it away.

“Don’t bother. Still gonna - ” he manages before ducking into the blanket as another sneeze shudders through him.

Roadhog takes a breath, but Junkrat sneezes a third time, and a fourth. Roadhog pauses, raises a brow. “...”

“Yeah, think I’m finished.”

“Bless. Forget the planting, ain’t a worry.”

Junkrat rubs his eyes. “What’re ya doin’ still awake, though? Thought sure you’d be sleepin’.”

Roadhog shrugs. The wind moans in between a window and its jamb and he shivers before he can suppress it.

Understanding dawns across Rat’s face. “Ah, it’s like that, o’ course.” Clears his throat. “C’mon. You can sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

“But you’re sick,” Roadhog protests through a yawn wide enough to crack his jaws.

“An’ I been sleepin’ most of the day. Can manage for a while.”

Roadhog wants to argue, but finds himself following Junkrat to the bedroom, lying down at Rat’s urging. His eyelids are so heavy. “Rat…”

“Sleep,” Junkrat says.

Only once does Roadhog jerk awake, the scent of smoke lingering in his nostrils, the echo of her cries in his ears. He blinks, and in the deep black of night he barely makes out Junkrat’s silhouette outlined by faint moonlight, all sharp angles and scarecrow hair, perched in the window, still keeping watch.

“Ain’t nothing but a dream,” Junkrat rasps, just above a whisper.

“I heard…”

“The wind,” Rat says firmly.

They’re both silent for a while. Roadhog shifts, trying to get comfortable.

As though the confirmation that he’s still awake gives Junkrat the courage he says, “You can tell me about it, ya know.”

“...”

“Nightmares.” A long pause, then an admission, “I get ‘em too.”

“...” “One day,” Rat says. “You can tell me one day.”

Maybe he will. But for now, trusting that Junkrat will watch for spark or flame, Roadhog lets himself fall back into sleep.

[mydramatiiclife]

Cas has Never...

No one has ever sent Cas flowers. 

Dean sends him some the following day. It takes him over two hours of scouring the internet, looking through different florist shops to find just the right bouquet to send to Cas. It’s going to his job so it can’t be anything too extravagant. He wanted to make sure the bouquet represented them as a couple. He didn’t want to go with anything to cliche. He wanted something special and unique to them; a bouquet full of blue hydrangeas, peach and pink roses, pink spray roses, blue eryngiums, dusty miller, and eucalyptus. 

Cas loved them. 

Cas had never been to the drive-in.

Baby is perfect for the drive-in. Dean remembers going to the drive-in when he was little, all of them piled up front to watch the movie. Their mom would make special treats to bring with them, along with a blanket, just in case they got cold. Dean does the same. He packs a picnic basket to the brim with all of Cas’ favorite snacks, drinks, and his moms’ special treats. He grabs a blanket to cuddle under and they head to watch Cas’ first drive-in movie. 

Cas has never seen the snow in person.

Dean rents them a cabin for the weekend during Winter. It’s their first vacation together.  They make snowmen, snow angels, and drink hot chocolate on the porch. They get into several snowball fights and warm up next to the fire. After dinner, they sit on the porch with a hot toddy and stargaze. Cas cuddles into Dean’s arms as he points out the constellations above. 

Cas has never told Dean he loves him.

It’s the same night, underneath the stars, those three words fall from his lips. Dean swallows them in a kiss and tells him the same.

Cas has never seen any of the Harry Potter films. 

Dean calls Charlie and they binge all of them over a holiday weekend. Cas tells Dean he doesn't see what all they hype is about. Dean has to hold Charlie back. 

Cas has never changed the oil in his car. 

Even though Cas protests, Dean teaches him anyway. 

Cas has never lived with anyone other than family. 

Dean asks Cas to move in with him once his lease is up. After spending the weekend at the cabin, it’s all Dean wants. He wants Cas to be the last thing he sees at night and the first thing he sees in the morning. Even if he’s an asshole before he drinks his second cup of coffee. 

Cas has never broken a bone. 

Neither has Dean. But he does tell him about the time Sam broke his trying to pretend he could fly. 

Cas has never been to Ikea. 

Dean takes him one weekend and they end up decorating their entire apartment. Their place finally feels like a home. 

Cas has never been proposed to. 

Dean asks him to marry him the following Winter, in that same cabin, under the stars.

[vibing-and-writing]

A Grove of Trees

A/N: hi!! Apologies for my inconsistent posting but life has been a crazy time recently!!! Anyways, here is the piece I will be submitting for @gingerwritess​‘s writing challenge for the prompt “a grove of trees”. Congrats on 4,000 bby!! I hope you enjoy this fic!!

Warnings: N/A (just witch tingz) 

Summary: When Bucky is sent on a stakeout to investigate ‘suspicious activity’, he meets someone unexpected instead.  

Witch!Reader X Bucky Barnes 

The day Fury told him he would be doing a stakeout, Bucky could feel the back pain coming already. Sam could call him an old man all he wanted, it still wouldn’t change the fact that Bucky hated stakeouts. Specifically stakeouts like this one that involved staying in a tiny hut in the woods, watching a cabin that has had, according to Fury, “suspicious activity” going on inside. Fury had refused to tell Bucky what “suspicious activity” had been happening, only that some of the plants of the cabin’s garden looked like something out of another realm. The plants overgrown, scoring the walls and fence of the garden, but well-loved by what seems to be a woman who only comes out once a month. Bucky found it hard to believe that one woman in the middle of the woods had caught the attention of SHIELD, so much attention that he had to be sent on a stakeout but nonetheless accepted the mission with a promise of a month-long vacation by the end of it.

It was two days into the stakeout that Bucky suggested he sneak into the cabin, but Fury strongly suggested against it saying “It’s too risky with how little we know.” When Bucky had asked about a background check on the woman, Fury said that not even their high-tech cameras could capture more than an extremely blurry picture, so blurry it couldn’t be traced. It was mysterious, to say the least, and by day three Bucky had just about had it. With a near-constant combination of a headache and back pains, Bucky was done. Putting his Avenger status to good use and a small argument with Fury, Bucky stood at the door of the cabin with strict orders to only engage if absolutely necessary. 

Bucky’s eyes settled into a glare, assessing his surroundings with expertise. The worn door has sigils and signs written with different colored chalk in a language he can’t recognize, but he goes to knock on it either way. Before his hand can touch the wood, the door swings open with a gentle whoosh. Hiding his surprise with a frown of his lips, he walks into the area with trepidation, senses on high alert. The cabin looks lived in, glass jars stand proudly near the windows, more sigils drawn on the sills. A counter is near the back of the cabin, a small cash register makes it home, with a tip jar and bell next to it. The walls are nearly filled to the brim with jars with different labels, some saying ‘protection’ or ‘luck’. Dried herbs are strewn on the rafters of the ceiling, filling the room with almost too many aromas as Bucky holds back a sneeze. Two signs near the cash register say ‘don’t see me? ring the bell!’ and ‘please don’t steal’, both seemingly hand-drawn with uneven smiley faces. Bucky walks closer to the counter with bated breath, his shoulders un-tensing without his permission as he rings the small bell. 

The twinkling of the bell seems to make the cabin come alive as Bucky hears a muffled voice come from below him. “I’ll be right up!” Bucky doesn’t bother hiding his surprise when he hears the voice. Hearing some crashes and stomps his shoulders tense up again, but he nearly jumps in surprise when he realizes his back and head don’t hurt anymore. 

There is a flurry of movement from behind the counter, a small creek being heard from what seems to be an opening in the floor. Bucky takes a step back as a woman stands in front of him behind the register, a bright smile on her face. Bucky goes to speak before he’s interrupted by the woman. “Welcome to Grove Of Trees, how can I help you?” She says it softly but with an air of confidence as if she already knows why he’s there. Heat starts creeping up his neck and cheeks, but not because of the lack of air conditioning. This woman is beautiful, though he tells her later that it’s not enough to describe her. Bucky had seen plenty of beautiful women in his 100-something years, but none of them shined as she did. Her lavender sundress only enhanced her features, the flowers in her seemed like they belonged there. Putting on his signature ‘scary face’ as Sam called it, he tries to think of something to say to her. Her expression seems to change from investigative to understanding as her eyes widen slightly. 

“Oh, so you’re the one that they called…,” she trails off with uncertainty. She even gets on her tippy toes to throw a glance over his shoulder, her eyes questioning as they land back on Bucky. Bucky looks at her slightly bewildered, his senses feeling dulled and on overdrive at the same time. “The one they called?”, he asks, thoroughly confused. The woman shakes her head, fixing her face with a small smile as she starts grabbing some vials from one of the many shelves. “Nothing for you to worry about, I’ll just have to consult the cards again, you know how finicky they can be,” she says, voice sounding similar to the bell he’d rung when he got here. Trying to ignore the calm feeling invading his senses, Bucky tries to think of the things he does know: this woman is a potential threat, this appears to be some sort of shop, and this woman is… glowing? “Mhm, yeah, for sure,” he replies with a nod, trying to sound like he understands what this mystical woman is talking about. The woman grabs a small teacup from behind the counter and a tea kettle (where she got it from he has no idea) and starts pouring some of the liquids from the vials. When Bucky gives a slight raise of his brow, she gives him a small quirk of her lips. “Your back and shoulders are tense, no? This tea should help relax you a bit,” she says, her voice soft and calm. While her voice draws him in like a siren, Bucky tries to keep his senses on high alert, reminding himself this woman is a threat. 

“Thank you, but that’s not why I’m here,” Bucky says, trying to keep his face from relaxing too much. Her expression seems somber at that, the room seeming to lose a bit of its luster, and he feels his heart sink. Bucky soldiers through the air of disappointment. “I’m investigating some suspicious activity in this area.” Her expressions seem to go from bad to worse at that, her brows furrowing, the warmth in her expression fleeting. 

Looking Bucky up and down, her eyes widen a bit in recognition before she starts putting away the vials again. “Fury sent you here didn’t he? Blessed be, how many times do I have to tell him I’m not going to be his next Avenger,” she says, grabbing more vials before waving her hands in various directions. The plants seem to stand at attention, many of the herbs on the ceiling floating gently into her hands. Her motions are quick and agitated, brows furrowing more as she continues. “How dare he, after I was kind enough to send him and his stupid lab a sample of my plants, which are my mother’s by the way, for him to send me another agent.” 

She stops her rant to look at Bucky then, who is stood in a bit of awe and confusion a growing trend as her expression softens. “At least they sent a cute one,” she mutters to herself, unaware of Bucky’s super hearing. Bucky’s blush makes its home from his ears to his neck, the woman’s words affecting them more than they probably should. She slides the teacup closer to Bucky, expression calmer as more light filters through the cabin windows. “You might as well drink it since it’s been brewed. I’m sorry to have wasted your time,” she says, her expression apologetic, if not a bit embarrassed. 

Bucky snaps out of his confusion then, mentally cursing out Fury for making him do a stakeout for no reason, especially when the woman was clearly not interested. “‘S not your fault, Fury doesn’t normally take ‘no’ for an answer,” Bucky says gently taking the cup in his gloved hand. She gives a small huff then, her expression growing less exasperated. “He likes to think I don’t notice those cameras flying around, but I just don’t need that responsibility. I’m just a flower girl in the woods,” she says, her hands blindly grabbing a vial before bringing it up to her nose. Bucky looks at questioningly before she tips the vial in his direction, a distinct smell of eucalyptus wafting at his nose. “I don’t know anything about flowers, but I can see why Fury wanted to recruit you,” he says, his shoulders relaxing as he lets the aura of the cabin envelope him. She looks at Bucky questioningly, her eyes shimmering. “Why do you say that, handsome agent?” Her tone is a bit mischievous, her smile growing. Bucky lets his lips quirk into a smile as the blush returns to his face, his heart thumping in his chest. “We don’t have anyone on the team who is like you,” he says genuinely. The room seems to get a bit brighter, but she looks disbelieving. “Don’t you have the Scarlet Witch?”, she proposed. Bucky gave her a very obvious once-over, wondering how this woman didn’t know she was the most vibrant being he’d ever seen. Wanda was an amazing person but Bucky’s instincts were telling him this woman was more than what he’d seen today. “You seem to be more than just a flower girl in the woods,” he replied, the blush still present on his cheeks. Her eyes move away from his, her hand fiddling with the vial as her face grows flustered.

Suddenly her eyes widen and her posture stiffens, the room brightening as if a light bulb had been turned on. “Oh this makes much more sense…” she says to herself. Bucky looks at her questioningly before she straightens her back and looks at him directly in the eyes, narrowed but not maliciously. Learning from the past couple of minutes, he resigns himself to the fact that this woman will probably never make full sense to him. Many emotions show quickly over her face from confusion to surprise to understanding. Seemingly settled, she looks at Bucky almost appreciatively. 

“You can tell Fury he’ll see me very soon,” she says, her voice confident. Bucky stares at her for a moment before replying tentatively, “You’re not joining just ‘cause Fury is pressuring you right? You don’t owe him anything.” Shaking her head she gives Bucky a soft look, her posture relaxed but sure. “No, you could say I have a good feeling about being an Avenger,” she says, a smirk on her lips. Bucky stares at her for a moment, trying to figure out this enigma of a woman. A sigh escapes his lips as Bucky looks at her consideringly, “If you say so.” Turning his body to leave, he feels something warm touch his hand. His head snaps towards the source, the woman now a couple of inches away, no counter between them. 

“I’m assuming I’ll be seeing you again,” she says, the contact bringing back the blush to his cheeks. Bucky tries to get rid of the haze in his head, struggling to get back any semblance of control as his heart beats loudly in his chest. “I hope so,” he replies, his voice too eager for his liking. 

She gives him a sunny smile, her eyes crinkling, and nose scrunching as she drops her hand from his. Before Bucky can be disappointed at the loss of touch, she says, “Have a good day, handsome agent.” All coy and happy, Bucky couldn’t help but smile back, the blush on his cheeks coming back full force. Continuing towards the door, all he can muster is a small wave before he walks out into the woods. 

Not far from the door stands a very smug Nick Fury, complete with a SHIELD jet waiting behind. Bucky’s smile drops from his face, a frown taking its place. “Mission completed Sarge, time for that vacation,” Furt says, his tone overly cheerful. Feeling his headache coming back already, Bucky points an accusatory finger at Fury. “Why would you send me on a useless stakeout when the woman was clearly uninterested,” he asks, already having an inkling to what the answer is. Fury gives him a small nod before replying, “She ended up saying yes didn’t she?” He says it as a rhetorical question, but not without promptly waking into the jet. 

Bucky heaves a sigh before looking back at the cabin. Focusing his ears he can hear more clangs and crashes, the vibrant woman inside doing God knows what. A smile takes its place back on his face, his heart beating faster at the thought of seeing her again.

[slashingdisneypasta]

you got any general headcanons for Laughing Jack?

Sure! ^^ 

~~~

·         He is one of the Pasta that passes through Slender Mansion the least- he’s surprisingly pretty introverted because of trauma. That isn’t to say he’s shy, obviously (He has no fucks to give about what people think of him), but the presence of most other people drains his energy pretty quick and he gets cranky.

·         And he’s scary (Scarier) when he’s tired. He becomes very threatening and serious towards fellow Creepypastas.

·         Another factor leading to L.J being a more mysterious, recluse creature among the other Pasta’s (Even the main Pastas like him) is that L.J, obviously, harbors some serious abandonment issues. But these don’t equate to clinginess in him- the opposite actually. Over his dead body (or anyone else’s), will he give anyone the chance to get close enough to him that it hurts when they leave. He will leave first, before that happens. And I don’t foresee that changing anytime soon.

·         He value’s other Pasta’s and people in general exactly zero percent. He can be very rude- especially to Masky. To him, Masky is just Slender’s slave.

·         Non-Human’s like the Slender’s, E.J, BEN, Dark Link, Jason, Candy Pop and Cane, etc, tend to get a little bit more respect. Not warmth, obviously, but like a work colleague that you don’t like.

·         This all leads to him being a bit outcasted- but he’s more then okay with that!

·         (He does, for some reason, feel more comfortable when its just Offender with him though. Offender is just so much more chill then the other’s and is amused by his evil, poor taste joke’s so they get along much better than they do with all the other’s. L.J will still feed Offender to hellhounds if he can save himself though. They have a very special bond XD )  

·         Most of his jokes are really perverse and nasty.

·         He’s like an evil Drop Dead Fred. He’s makes messes and laughs about leaving it up to others to clean, he’s obnoxious, he’s prejudiced towards ‘grown-ups’ and girls (Cooties), he’s flighty, and he’s manipulative (He’ll often manipulate Jill because she’s, like, always nearby, and its easy).

·         (You can tell his years though by his vocabulary)

·         He leaves behind a puff of purple smoke like a smoke bombs when a magician pretends to disappear when he teleports.  

·         The gauze up and down his arms have not been changed in, like, years. They’re dirty. They’re old. His skin is probably infected and sweaty under there-

·         Which brings us to his smell. He smells like BO and, oddly, eucalyptus. Like, the lollies.

·         He doesn’t generally eat meat anyway, because you know he has his all sugar diet, but he especially refuses to eat lamb because he loves the little fluffy animals. He would be very happy laying in a pasture with a bunch of baby sheep climbing over him and around him and nuzzling the top of his head. A little bit of peace for him!

·         Please let him have a pet lamb, and let it grow into a huge fluffy sheep, and let him call it ‘Hugo’ and ‘Old boy’ as he watches TV with it.

·         BEN, with Masky: L.J, Splender told us to invite you to Christmas.

·         L.J: Oh, no; sorry, can’t. That’s sheering day.

·         BEN looks at Masky, who urges him to go on: Well… can’t you sheer Hugo another day? -  

·         L.J: You don’t wanna see us on sheering day. Hugo gets very testy and its not very pleasant.

·         If you get L.J a female sheep friend for Hugo, L.J will pop from joy- babies! “Time to get busy, Hugo old son! Let’s go. I’ll give y’ two some privacy. Don’t be shy, go on then. Pop wants grandbabies-”

·         Candy Pop: *Appears by L.J* You called?

·         L.J: No! I didn’t call you, now get out! Hugo has performance anxiety enough!

·         L.J is a part time sheep farmer. You know, while in the other half he befriends, gains the trust of and kills young children for a game.

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Heart to Heart

Missing scene from the latest chapter of The Nanny Affair. My MC comforts Sofia after being publicly embarrassed by her father. I hated that scene, and I hate that Sofia is such a one dimensional character. 

Background MC (Luna Stafford) x Sam Dalton, but only if you tilt your head and squint.

Tags: @choices-lurker @paulfwesley @zodiacsign1 @thatysn @ermidc @badchoicesposts @senseofduties @canknot @drakewalker04

~v~

Luna can’t enjoy the fact that she’s drinking her salary in fancy champagne, enjoying a rooftop dinner with some of the richest people in the tri-state area. Any other day, this would be a dream come true, but in reality, she’s stuck in a nightmare.

For the past two hours, they’ve been forced to listen to Paolo make snide remarks on everything under the sun from her nannying skills to Sofia’s business acumen. Luna is not a fan of Paolo Russo. He seems like a miserable, stuffy old man whose only joy in life comes from whining and looking down on other people.

She casts a quick glance at Sam. The always poised and out together man looks as bored as she feels. His elbows are on the table, a finger lazily tracing the rim of his champagne flute. Gone are the manners and the fine dining etiquette that’s been drilled into him since infancy.

He looks up, sneaking a glance at her. An easy grin adorns his features as they lock eyes, and she quickly looks away, heat blooming on the apples of her cheeks. It’s rare that Sam is so unapologetic in his flirting with her, especially in the presence of his kids. 

The sound of a knife hitting the stem of a champagne flute is all it takes to pull Luna out of her thoughts. Paolo is standing at the head of the table, waiting on everyone to watch him with rapt attention.

He clears his throat obnoxiously, “Ahem. Thank you all for coming to congratulate my beautiful daughter and her future husband on their upcoming nuptials.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Luna sees Sofia sit up a bit straighter, eagerly awaiting the praise she’s sure her father is going to heap onto her.

“Sofia has been run ragged at Russo Industries for far too long,” Paolo continues. “Now she can finally fulfill her purpose to become a wife and mother. After all, a woman in a position of power in the business world is like an unstable explosive, especially around that time of the month.” The older man turns toward Sam, hoping to get a co-sign on his speech. “Right, Sam?”

Luna clenches her fist tightly underneath the table. She can’t believe the unmitigated fall that his man has. “Did he really just say that?”

Sam turns to her with a mournful expression. “Unfortunately.”

Luna isn’t the only one at the table embarrassed by Paolo’s speech. Sam’s mother Vivian leans over to her husband, whispering harshly. “Mason honey, I thought you talked to him about this.”

“I tried, but you know how it goes with Paolo.”

Luna balks at the scene unfolding in front of her. So they all just let Paolo get away with talking like this? It’s just talk, that they all chalk up to Paolo just being Paolo?

Paolo, the arrogant man, is far too caught up in his own spiel to notice that they’re all openly horrified. He just keeps going. “...A family disarms the bomb! That’s why it’s called a biological clock.”

Luna wants to scream. She wants to hit something. She wants to do anything else but listen to this man continue on with his horribly misinformed and misogynistic speech.

“Finally we’re getting to the good stuff.”

“I predict a Sofia meltdown in three...two…”

The countdown doesn’t have to finish as Sofia all but slams her champagne flute down on the table. The noise startles Luna and she flinches slightly.

“I’ve heard this speech before. I don’t need to hear it again.”

Sofia scrambles, attempting to gather her belongings. Luna notices that her hands are slightly trembling and her eyes are glossy, tears threatening to spill.

Before she can stop herself, she’s opening her mouth, “Actually Paolo, men and women have the same brains. Neurologists have been searching for differences for years, but nothing ever turns up. And this society makes girls lesser than men, which is a gross assumption that’s pushed by men like you.”

The admonishment causes a faint blush to appear at Paolo’s neck. “And what does that have to do with my daughter’s role at Russo Industries?”

Luna shrugs. “Even I can tell she would make a great CEO. In fact, I bet you’ve already seen gains under her management.”

“My daughter’s abilities aren’t in question. It’s a matter of right and wrong. Women belong at home. It’s why you became a nanny, right?”

“Paolo, you are way out of line,” Sam says, his voice taking on an uncharacteristically gruff tone. “I won’t have you speaking to Luna like that.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Luna sees Sofia rush off, heading back into the country club, not sticking around for any more of the conversation.

“It’s fine, Sam,” Luna says. The last thing she wants to do is cause a confrontation. It’d raise too many questions. Why is Sam so quick to defend the nanny and not his own fiancée? “This conversation is done anyway.”

Pushing her seat back, Luna throws her napkin on the table and gets up, leaving behind an awkwardly silent dinner party.

Sofia is a very fast walker, but Luna manages to keep a decent pace behind her, her platinum blonde hair making her an easy target to follow. The older woman heads to the restroom, angrily pushing open the door. Luna weaves through patrons of the club and various waiters carrying trays until she reaches the bathroom as well.

Luna is instantly swept up in just how fancy this restroom is. The lighting is dim, it smells like eucalyptus and mint, there’s soft music playing, and she’s pretty sure the faucets are made of real gold.

It isn’t until she hears a sniffle coming from one of the stalls that she is reminded of the reason she entered the restroom in the first place. Taking a peek under the stall, she sees Sofia’s signature Louboutin heels.

“Sofia, I know you’re in there.”

“Go away,” Sofia orders. Her tone doesn’t have its usual bite or chill. Luna frowns at how small she sounds. “I don’t need you here to coddle me.”

“I can’t do that. My conscience won’t let me leave a sad woman crying in the restroom alone.”

“I’m not crying!”

“Sure you’re not. But my point remains, I’m not leaving until you talk to me.”

A minute ticks by and Luna is met with silence. Sofia is just as stubborn as she anticipated, maybe even more so.

She leans against the marble countertop, careful to not lean against any wet spots. “If anyone knows how you feel, it would be me.”

More silence.

“I’m a black woman in STEM,” Luna continues, not waiting for a response. “I don’t know what it’s like in the business world, but if I got a dime for every time a man, and sometimes other women, told me to not pursue chemistry, I’d probably be able to afford your shoes.”

“Really?”

Luna smiles to herself. Sofia actually responded to her! She’s making progress! “Really. I was told to focus on nursing or a social science, like sociology or anthropology by multiple teachers, classmates and counselors. Not saying there’s anything wrong with those fields, I think they’re great, but that wasn’t the path for me. I’ve always loved chemistry. I’ve had the periodic table memorized since I was in 3rd grade. Thankfully I have parents that support my passion, because everyone isn’t so lucky.”

Sofia scoffs. “Got that right. I got my BA from Yale, I graduated summa cum laude and I went to Wharton for grad school, but let my dad tell it, I simply wasted 6 years and half a million dollars in tuition costs. Those degrees mean nothing to him because he’s the stereotypical, conservative and traditional Italian man. I’m not the correct sex or gender for him. In a perfect world, I’d be the perfect song but instead, I’m his fussy daughter. I’m not supposed to do anything other than get pregnant and cook, and how dare I want anything else out of life.”

“I say this with the utmost respect, but your father is a sexist jerk,” Luna deadpans. “You can yell at me for saying it, but I don’t regret it. And I’m shocked Russo Industries is still standing because I can only imagine the HR complaints and harassment lawsuits against your father over the years.”

“There’s no need to apologize because it’s the truth. My father doesn’t respect me. He doesn’t respect women at all. My mother was never allowed to have an opinion, and mine isn’t all that valued either.”

“I thought taking the initiative and getting engaged to Sam would make him respect me,” Sofia adds. “I wanted to do this in order to prove to him that I’m worthy. I thought he’d see that I’m a go-getter, and I’m ambitious, and I want the Russo family to thrive, but he doesn’t care about the business aspect of the merger like I do. He’s just glad I found a rich husband.”

Another bout of silence falls between the two women, but this time it’s not as awkward as before. it’s almost peaceful. Luna still hears the occasional sniffle, but she doesn’t call any attention to it. Crying is too vulnerable for Sofia to be open about.

“Besides, I don’t know if things will even pan out the way I want them to,” Sofia says. “The boys aren’t that fond of me, and Sam is just so...cold. I’m trying to make this a decent transition, and I’m trying to find out where I fit in that family dynamic, but it’s not working. He didn’t want me around for his birthday, he doesn’t respect my opinion on how to raise Mickey and Mason. More times than not, it feels like he’s counting down the minutes until he has to be in my presence anymore.” The stall door opens up and Sofia steps out. Her eyes are bloodshot and her nose is red and raw. Luna averts her gaze quickly, not wanting to draw too much attention to it.

“I don’t even know if this is worth it anymore. I’m exhausted, and I’m trying to sustain a relationship all by myself. Sam can barely sustain a conversation with me, and my dad isn’t impressed, so what’s the point? What am I doing this all for?”

Luna frowns. Sofia has always seemed so...bold and intimidating, like nothing ever rattled her. But looking underneath the perfectly put together surface, Sofia is just a woman trying to fight and claw for every inch of success, despite the lack of a support system.

“I meant what I said earlier,” Luna says. “I think you’re smart, and I think you’d make an excellent CEO of Russo Industries. And I don’t think you need Sam at your side to do so.”

That shocks Sofia. Her eyebrows shoot up past her hairline at the compliment. “You really think so? You have that much faith in me?”

Luna doesn’t know if she’s giving Sofia this advice because she truly believes in it, or if a selfish part of her wants the other woman to leave Sam alone, so they can finally be together. Her stomach twists uncomfortably at the thought, full of guilt. Does this count as manipulation?

She swallows thickly, pushing down whatever guilt is trying to bubble to the surface and nods. “I do. You don’t need a man to be successful and fulfilled. You don’t need your dad’s approval. And you don’t need to feed into the bullshit cycle of misogyny that your dad perpetuates.”

Sofia walks over to the sink and turns the faucet. After she splashes cool water on her face, she turns back to Luna. “Thank you, I guess. No one has ever talked to my dad the way you did, especially not in defense of me. And thank you for coming in here.”

“You’re welcome. Even the rich and powerful Sofia Russos of the world need 5 minutes to vent and cry.”

“Never mention to anyone that you’ve seen me like this,” Sofia orders sharply. No one, especially people in New York high society, can know that the ice queen herself shows emotion. 

“What happens in the ladies’ room, stays in the ladies’ room. Scout’s honor.”

“Good.” Sofia sighs and straightens herself up. Luna watches the cool facade slip back into place as Sofia fixes her makeup and runs a brush through her hair. Sofia is back to being the poised, elegant woman everyone knows.

Once she’s done, she straightens out her clothes and heads to the door. Hesitating, Sofia lingers by the door. She turns back to Luna, her eyes softer than the younger woman has ever seen them. “You know what? Maybe I misjudged you. You aren’t as bad as I originally thought.”

A soft smile tugs on the corner of Luna’s mouth. “That’s high praise coming from you. I’ll take it.”

Without another word, Sofia sweeps out of the restroom, leaving Luna all alone, the sound of her heels clicking against the floors now an echo. With the presence of the other woman no longer stifling her, Luna lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding in.

She didn’t know what to expect coming in here to comfort Sofia, but now everything feels much more complicated.

[slushrottweiler]

Main 6 when MC has a cold

Coz I'm sick and I want to be looked after

Asra

You being sick is actually his worst nightmare. So a little cough and a sniffle and he's in full on panic mode.

What if it's the plague again? No, the cured that, so it's something else. What if he brought back something from his travels and it made you sick? What if it's worse than the plague? How could he do this to you again!

It takes a bit of coaxing, but after you convince him it's just a cold, he does calm down

Enter Nurse Asra mode

Do you need anything? Are you too hot? Too cold? Do you want something to eat? Drink?

He makes herbal teas with soothing properties, until he finds the mix you like best

Faust curls up around your neck like a snakey scarf, trying to keep you warm. (Yes she is cold blooded, no it hasn't occurred to her that she isnt really helping)

Once you have everything you could possibly need, Asra will curl up in bed with you and read your favourite books aloud. His voice is as soothing as honey and soon your drifting off to sleep

He knows you wont kiss him on the lips, in case you pass on your cold. So he showers your cheeks and forehead with tender kisses. Faust snisses your chin.

Nadia

Has noticed you're coming down with something for a while now, and is prepared.

Once you start exhibiting symptoms, she calls in the royal physicians and immediately excuses you from any tasks you have scheduled.

No amount of whining will make her budge, so you begrudgingly allow her doctors to check you over.

When all the professionals have left, Nadia takes care of you personally.

Long, hot baths scented with eucalyptus oil to help your sinuses, round the clock honey tea and mild soups. She wants to keep you hydrated and warm

She will absolutely get into the bath with you. She will settle you in her lap and massage your temples, hoping to soothe any aches you might have.

When you're tucked into her bed, she will cradle your sore head against her chest and hum a Prakran lullaby to pull you to sleep.

No kisses until you're well. It's almost a tease and it drives you keep taking your medicine and rest. The sooner you're better, the sooner you can kiss your wife!

She won't admit it to anyone but you, but she actually finds your whiny sick persona quite cute, like a sulking puppy. If you call her one of when you're well, she blushes like crazy.

Julian

Dramatic boy is dramatic

Initially he's worried, but after a quick check he determines you just have a cold and that tempers his concern.

Activate doctor mode

He confines you to your bed, and proceeds to plough you with every cure for the common cold he knows.

You have had to talk him down from leeches once

"The medical shamans of Southern Nevivon grind the bark of this tree and mix it with molasses. It's supposed to help bring down a fever"

For the most part, his treatments are actually quite sane. A damn cloth on your forehead to cool you down, ice chips to keep you hydrated, warm, hearty broth and sweet tea to help your throat.

He will stand over you and make you take your medicine, arms crossed. You can distract him with a flirty smile and a pureed "Yes doctor."

He offers to help you use a neti pot, but you end up chucking pillows at him until he lets you do it yourself

As you start to heal, he becomes less stern and more playful in his caring. "One more spoonful and I'll give you a treat darling"

Knows he shouldn't, but he still gives you kisses anyway.

Usually ends up sick just after you, and is a much less co-operative patient.

Muriel

You are doing him a concern

He doesn't know what to do with his tiny human who is simultaneously demanding cuddles and telling him to leave them alone, he'll get sick too

After one last pitiful sniffle, Muriel has had enough.

He stormed over to you and simple scoops you off your feet, the dumps you onto his bed and begins piling furs on top of you

When you splitter and ask what he's doing, his only reply is a grunt and a curt "Stay."

He then disappears outside, leaving you trapped under the furs.

Eventually he returns with a bucket of fresh water and a fistful of herbs. Inanna trots in behind him

Muriel knows how to care for sick animals, so he proceeds to treat you the same way he would treat any other mammal.

Water, food and heat. He lets you chew some of the herbs he brought when you're in pain, or your fever gets too high.

He sends Inanna to snuggle with you, but that just results with two sets of puppy dog eyes asking for cuddles

Eventually he caves

He carries you everywhere. To the bathroom. Outside for some fresh air. Even to sit infront of the fire. When asked why, he blushes madly and says you need to rest.

At night, he will gently play with your hair as your drift off to sleep.

Can be bribed into kisses by saying "it'll help me get better."

Portia

This is a woman on a mission

"No way are you going anywhere, get back into that bed right now!"

She tends to give off mazelinka vibes. It's kinda terrifying.

Once you're bundled up in bed, she sets about efficiently treating your cold.

Herbal teas, cool water, nutritious meals and lots of rest. She picks up a balm from Asra to rub on your chest. She efficiently takes your temperature every few hours and alters her treatment to match.

No amount of sulking or pouting will deter her

"Oh dear God, you're worse than Ilya! Just sit down and shut it and let me take care of you!"

If you told her she was cute when she was forceful, she'd blush and flick you on the ear

No kisses on the lips,but she will rain kisses all over your face just to see you smile

Pepi is now your permanent companion. She curls up on the pillow beside you and snoozes.

She juggles her duties at the palace and taking care of you quite well

At night, she still crawls into bed with you and snuggles close, regardless of how clammy you are. If you tell her to stay away in case she gets sick, she just scoffs.

"A little cold isn't gonna keep me from the love of my life."

Lucio

Doesn't realise you're sick until you're groaning and coughing in bed one morning.

"Everyone Out! You, get me the physician. You, fetch the softest sleep robes we have. Everyone else get the hell out!"

Stands guard as the doctors look over you, leaning against the far wall and scowling every time you so much as whimper.

Under the bluster and bravado, he's terrified.

What if you're really sick

What if he did this to you. After all, he caused the plague.

He has various servants cater to your every need and desire. Fresh pillows, flavoured water, fresh squeezed juice. All the while he keeps his distance.

He's stays at the door, shaking at how small you look curled up on his bed.

With some prompting, eventually he'll  come over. He eventually caves and explains why he has been avoiding you

You snort, and call him a dumbass. Assuring him its just a cold, he pouts at you for teasing him, but is obviously relieved.

Will 100% crawl into bed with you and pull you close, gently running his metal hand through your hair

Said metal hand feels great on your feverish skin, so cool. Your not above draping over your forehead like a cold compress

Mercedes and Melichor try to jump onto the bed with you, but Lucio puts a stop to it

"No. No! Mummy/Bibi/Daddy/etc is not feeling well, you two lay off."

Stays with you for all further doctors checks, hugging you from behind with his arms wrapped around you

Nothing will stop this man from kissing you. Nothing at all.

[cynicalrainbows]

may I request a fic about Tour Kitty and her daughter Bessie? It can be about anything you want!

So this was originally part of something longer that got discarded- I’d like to write something better, but in the meantime, perhaps this drabble will do? Thanks for the ask anyhow, anon.

(For all those unfamiliar with the hc- credited to @bessie-bass-on-the-bass- the idea is that since Tour Kitty has strong mum-friend vibes and Tour Bessie is absolutely Babey, they end up having a very close mother-daughter relationship (similar to WE Kitty and Jane). I know most people don’t headcanon as much about the LiW but I love this headcanon, ergo this snippet.)

Kitty switched on her tv and flipped through the channels. She wanted, if Bessie woke up, for her to wake up to things feeling normal, safe- to light and warmth and company and gentle background noise… to that end, she flipped past the news, a loud-sounding action film and the football until she found a nature thing- koalas clinging to trees and munching on eucalyptus- which looked innocuous enough.

 She turned the sound down as low as possible- she didn’t want to disturb Bessie unless she absolutely had to. Looking at the dark circles under her eyes, she wanted to kick herself. How did she not see this before? Why hadn’t she thought to ask if she was alright, if she was coping- it wasn’t as if she didn’t have nightmares still herself, and god knows, Bessie’s story was more or less a carbon-copy of her own, ending aside.

Every so often Bessie would twitch a bit in her sleep, whimpering and pressing herself into the pillows, and Kitty would smooth her hair and murmur reassurance until she settled again. After a couple of hours, she suddenly bolted upright with a gasp, her eyes wide and panicky, breathing hard. 

‘Hey-’ Kitty laid her hand gently against the girls back. ‘It’s ok.’

‘What’s-’ Bessie blinked, looking about her in confusion. ‘I-’

‘Just a dream, sweetheart.’ Kitty tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. ‘Remember? You’re safe with me now, ok? We’re both in my room, in our house.’

‘I dreamt I was-’ Bessie screwed her eyes shut. ‘I dreamt I was still there- I was at court... Henry...everyone was so angry with me- I kept trying to run away-’ Her voice wavers a bit. ‘They was catching me up- I kept-’ A tear rolls down her cheek and Kitty reaches out to brush it away. ‘I kept screaming, I kept screaming for you to come and help, to save me… You turned away….’ Her voice breaks into a sob and Kitty pulls her gently into her arms.

‘Oh sweetheart- that sounds horrible-’ Bessie nods tearfully into her chest. ‘I’m so sorry- you know I’d never do that in real life, right?’ Another nod. Kitty begins to stroke her hair back, hoping to soothe her. It seems to help- Bessie’s tears stop before they’ve really started, although Kitty knows this is probably due more to exhaustion than anything else.

‘Shall I tell you how it would really go?’

Bessie yawns and nods again. Kitty adjusts her hold on the girl a bit and then begins.

‘Ok. So- if you were running, from anyone or anything, not just from... well, from anything or anyone, I would of course swoop in to save you…. I mean, I’m not a good runner but maybe I could have a rope instead? Like a rope I could swing down from, like someone in a film…. Much more graceful than running. Much easier to do in costume too…’

‘In costume?’

‘Well, I’d have to be able to save you even if it was a show day. Got to have a bassist, after all.’

It earns her a small, tired smile.

‘And the rope?’

‘Well swinging in to rescue people is so much more dramatic…’

‘But you’re scared of heights-’ Bessie sounds very sleepy and Kitty gives an internal sigh of relief. She leans to kiss the girls forehead.

‘True. Maybe I wouldn’t be if it was you getting chased though. Because all I’d think about would be saving you. That and how cool I’d look. But mostly about saving you. But you do still have to promise to hold my hand if Anne makes us all go on the London Eye again, in a non saving-you capacity…. She keeps threatening we’re going to go back for New Years...’

The faint sleepy chuckle is music to her ears- she feels Bessie snuggle closer.

‘Anyway, I’d swing in on a rope. And I’d have a cape too. Not pink- maybe purple? Or silver? It would look amazing and whoever was chasing you would be momentarily dazzled by it, so I’d be able to scoop you up and swing away with you to safety before they could even see again.’

‘What if-’ She has to lean in to make out the words. ‘What if- they were too fast-’

‘They couldn’t be sweetheart. Or if they were, I’d still manage to stop them- I’d use my rope to lasssoo them or something. No matter what- whoever they were- I’d definitely save you, ok? Always. Every time. No question. I will never not keep you safe, I promise you.’

There was no answer- she couldn’t tell if Bessie had dropped off to sleep or if she was just too sleepy to respond. Either way, Kitty was glad she seemed so much calmer.

Eventually she decides to get some sleep too. She turns out the lights but leaves her lava lamp switched on so that Bessie won’t have to wake up in the dark if and when she does wake up again. She watched the blobs of yellow oil rise and sink slowly through the glowing tube until she dozes off.

[starblazerm31]

Eucalyptus, Rose and Buttercup for both of you ocs?

Thank you so much for the ask!!

Eucalyptus: What songs are played at your apprentice’s and their LI’s wedding?

Azalea:  Moving pieces full of cellos and violins.  And later, fast-paced, high-energy music from local street performers.

Imalia:  The loudest most bombastic musicians the city has to offer.  This thing is a par-tay!

Rose: Did your apprentice or their LI do the most planning for the wedding?

Azalea:  with both LIs:  Azalea did most of the planning, but she had Nadia right at her side to smooth it out.

Imalia:  Since she and Asra eloped, the reception was planned by Nadia, Azalea, Ben, and Dreen.  They hit it spot on because the entire event was exactly what Imalia and Asra would have wanted.

Buttercup: Who gives the speech at the wedding? How does it go?

Azalea

w/Julian:  Mazelinka.  She steps up, stating that as the elder in this family, she had the right and privilege to give the wedding speech.  She proceeds to tell the gathered loved ones about how she found Julian and Portia and became family to them.  Then that one fateful night when Maz got home to find Julian and Azalea there. Maz knew the two of them would get into lots of trouble together.  She was glad to come to know Azalea, was glad Portia now had a sister and was beyond ecstatic that there was someone else in the family who she could pass her brews down to.  She wishes them the best for the future and demands great-grandkids.

w/Lucio:  Technically Nadia.  Lucio wrote out a speech to say, but a few sentences in he started crying and couldn't stop.  Nadia took the scrap of paper from him and read it for him.  She corrected the bad grammar.

"My Darling Azalea:

Welp Well.  This is it.  I have officially put my balls on a ring and put placed it on your finger.  You know, I don't feel bad about it.  In fact, I'm still kinda thinking this is all a dream.  I hope it isn't a dream.  I couldn't stand waking up from it.  I could spend forever talking about how awesome you are and how much I love your ass physique, but this is supposed to be a serious speech, so here goes.  Azzie, you believed in me when nobody would.  And when I didn't deserve it.  I screwed up so many times and hurt so many people, but you believed in me.  And then you stayed with me.  Even when I drove you nuts.  Even when I broke your expensive glass thingy in your shop.  And THEN...you said you'd marry me.  Next to today, that was the best day of my life.  I want more best days with you.  So here it is, Day 1.  I'm ready to go forward, as long as you're next to me."

Imalia

Imalia did.  8) "In all honesty, I never thought I would make it this far with anyone.  I never thought I actually wanted it.  I always thought that I would be the roguish professor, out gathering priceless artifacts and breaking hearts all along the way.  Boy, was I wrong.  I did the artifact gathering, but the breaking hearts was never something I was good at.  Well...that's not entirely true, but anyway.  Life has a way of throwing the unexpected at you.  I never expected to be standing here, amongst my friends and loved ones, giving a wedding speech to Asra Alnazar.  You wonderful, amazing creature.  You have been there for most of my life.  Yep.  I cannot imagine a life without you in it.  Besides Ben, you have been the most consistent thing.  You encouraged me, you let me cry on your shoulder, you taught me, and you understood me.  We've been through some serious hell together.  And to have you at my side as my spouse...it feels like I can do anything in this world.  Maybe even other worlds.  Who knows?  Why don't we find out together?"  *raises a glass to Aisha and Salim*  "And to my beloved's amazing parents...can I call you 'mom' and 'dad'? *laughs*  I'm currently out of parents myself."  *looks back to Asra*  "And in case you're wondering, Starlight, about what my father would have thought about all this...I have a distinct feeling he would say 'It's about time.'"