#Even the color chart has me rolling

[anxiouscowboy]

Has anyone ever seen the Lee Van Cleef pajamas meme? Because if not, you're in for a real treat...

[strawberrysands]

Spencer Reid x Reader: he gets shot.

Spencer Reid x Reader

Prompt: Reader is Spencer’s secret girlfriend and works at the hospital when he gets shot.

Warnings: mentions of blood, getting shot (not reader), guns, fluff, a little angst, not proofread

Word count: 1.4k

I sigh as I pinch the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes. God, it’s been a long day. You look at your watch and groan; another three hours were left on your shift?

I turn my head as I hear a chuckle next to me, seeing my coworker raise her eyebrows at me.

“Long day?” She asks me.

“You have no idea.” I sigh. “I have touched way more bodily fluids today than I ever intended to in my entire life.”

She chuckles and shakes her head at me. “At least you got someone waiting for you at home.”

I can’t help the blush that appears on my cheeks as she mentions Spencer. Sure, we’ve been together for a while now, but it never got old.

My phone buzzes and I open it, smiling to see a text from Spencer: “We’re heading out now, should be back tonight. Don’t wait up for me ;)”

I quickly reply with a “Stay safe xxx” before returning to the computer in front of me. Those last three hours would feel like days at this rate.

--

An hour or so later, a message over the PA grabs my attention.

“Any available staff, please head to the emergency bay. Male, GSW to the neck.” So I was getting some action tonight.

But oh, I wished I wouldn’t. My eyes grow wide as I recognize who was being reeled in on a stretcher.

“Spencer!” His name had left my mouth before I could stop myself. I rush over to him, putting pressure on his wound.

“His pressure’s dropping!” 

A tear rolls down my cheek as I hear those words, watching his eyes roll to the back of his head. A hand gently pushed me back, struggling against my attempts to get back to Spencer.

“Stop.” Another nurse says. “You’re too close to this. You’re no help in this state.”

I know he’s right, but my heart said otherwise. I stop struggling as Spencer gets reeled into surgery, my arms going limp at my sides as I watch helplessly.

I hadn’t even noticed the people he came in with, since I had never met his team. Their glances my way went unnoticed.

--

My knee bounces as I check the time over and over again.

“Hey.” I look to my right, seeing a woman with colorful clothing and glasses smile kindly at me. “He’ll be alright.”

I nod, not noticing in my own stress how she said ‘he’ or how she seemed to try to convince herself of those words just as much as me.

I shoot up out of the chair I was in when I recognize Spencer’s surgeon come out.

“Is he alright? Is he-“

He interrupts me before I could continue. “He’ll be okay. The surgery went alright. He’s in room 102.”

I can’t help myself as I quickly throw my arms around him. “Thank you.”

The team watches as I quickly make my way to his room.

“Who was that?” Emily asks, but she doesn’t get an answer. The whole team was just as confused as she was.

--

“Did they check your vitals again?” I’m frantic as I check them myself, not waiting for Spencer to answer. “Did they-“

Spencer grabs my hand, pulling me back into the chair beside his bed. “Look at me. I’m okay.”

I quickly shake my head as I sit back down and grab his hand in mine. “You were shot, Spence. You could’ve-“ I cut myself off as I notice the tears that start to well up in my eyes.

“Just- don’t ever do that again.” I kiss his hand, earning a smile from him that I return.

Our moment was cut short when a nurse enters, not even glancing at us as he goes to Spencer’s IV.

“He had antibiotics an hour ago.” I say, frowning at the syringe in his hand. He takes a look at the chart, shaking his head.

“Doesn’t say so here.”

I quickly realize just what type of antibiotics are in the syringe, just as Spencer does.

“Hey, I can’t have those.” He starts, reaching for the nurse. “I have a severe reaction to those, it’s all in the chart-“

When he completely ignores him, I get up. “Hey, stop!”

Just as I grab the nurse’s hand and push it away, I hear Spencer yell. “He has a gun!”

My eyes grow wide as I realize Spencer was right, seeing it just as the nurse pushes me to the floor. I scoot backwards as I stare right down the barrel of the gun. I hear Spencer yell something and commotion outside the room, footsteps coming closer. Just as the man’s hand curls around the trigger, I shoot forward in a moment of bravery.

The sound of the shot has my ears ringing, but the bullet hits the floor just as I grab his legs, tackling him to the floor and kicking the gun away. I’m breathing heavily, wether from the shock or adrenaline, I didn’t know. My hand connects to the man’s face just as the door opens, a rather panicked stern man coming in, other people right on his tail.

I see his lips move but don’t hear him say anything, the ringing too strong. I turn to Spencer to see if he’s alright, finding his eyes already on me. He, too, was saying something as he reached for me, his hand cupping my face.

“Hotch, get him out of here.” I hear Spencer say, my hearing slowly coming back. The stern man from earlier handcuffs and escorts the man out of there, the others behind him staying at the door.

“Are you okay?” Spencer asks, his eyes scanning my face for any sort of injury. I cover his hand on my cheek with my own, nodding at him.

“Yeah, I’m just, uh, I-“ I ramble. “I’m okay.”

“I hate to interrupt, but uh-“ I turn around to see the voice coming from one of the people still at the door, black hair adorning her face as she motions to the two of us.

“Oh, yeah, I really wished you would’ve met under different circumstances, but,” Spencer starts, before motioning from me to the others, “this is my team. Emily, Derek, Rossi, JJ, Garcia, Hotch – this is Y/N, my, uh, girlfriend.”

A few looks of shock pass over their faces as I wave at them, a shy smile on my face.

“I really wanted you to meet her, I did, but it’s-“ Spencer starts explaining, but the man called Rossi cuts him off.

“It’s alright, kid. We understand.” He smiles kindly.

“Damn, pretty boy. I’m proud of you.” Derek says, smiling widely at his friend and winking at me.

“Shut up.” Spencer groans, and I can’t help but chuckle. He was never going to hear the end of this.

“You really pack a punch.” Emily says to me, referring to the man whose nose was probably broken.

“Oh, it was probably just the adrenaline.” I say, getting slightly flustered at all the attention.

“Girl, you broke the guy’s nose. That’s impressive.” The blonde woman, JJ, smiles at me.

“Now, everyone get out. I’d like to have my girlfriend to myself, before all of you steal her from me.”

Spencer’s statement earns a round of chuckles from everyone, before finally leaving the two of you alone.

His thumb runs soothing circles across your bruised knuckles, smiling at you. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“I know.” I say, grinning. “Your team seems nice. The guy in the suit, Hotch, could loosen up a little though.”

Spencer laughs at that, shaking his head. “I’ve been trying to tell him for years.”

I lean forward, gently brushing your lips against his.

“I love you.” I whisper, feeling Spencer smile against my lips.

--

“He better not let her go.” Rossi says, all of the team watching you through the window.

“How did he not tell anyone for so long? If I had a girlfriend that pretty, I would be boasting about it.” Garcia huffs, shaking her head.

Derek chuckles. “Yes, you would, baby girl.”

Hotch clears his throat. “Don’t you think we’re a bit creepy, just watching them through the window?”

Emily shrugs. “Probably. But they’re too cute, I’m not leaving.”

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Paper Pirates

MDNI

An unconventional member of an unconventional crew, you find yourself wrestling with frustrations out of your league

Shanks x f!reader (more relevant in part 2)

It was supposed to be a one-shot.

There are many roads to piracy.

Paperwork shouldn’t be one of them.

Sailors fly the jolly roger for adventure, for freedom, for greed. Sweet or savage, pirates turn to the sea for a thrilling life away from responsibility. Not for double-entry accounting.

It should be all swords and swashbuckling, especially on a yonko’s flagship. Music and tuneless singing have steeped in the ship’s hull along with sea brine and rum, staining the Red Force with a mighty reputation.

And yet. Here you sit: ink-stained fingers, spectacles, and all.

The financial charts, ledgers, and reports from across the Emperor’s territory make a compelling excuse to skip the evening’s celebrations. Light from the overhead lantern trembles with the rhythmic force of a dozen idiots dancing – or fighting – on deck. You have a job to do and frankly can’t be assed to even feign interest, not that you put much effort into the pretense since your first introduction.

Shanks called for this particular event because it’s a day ending in y. No one has cannons aimed at the Red Force, and there’s no pressing need for sobriety. Standard practice, really.

The exposure to the crew’s merry making itches under your skin like sun blisters. You’ll burn if you get too much, but it’s an unavoidable hazard at sea.

Even if you’re only half-crew.

You’re a leap and a bound above a coddled passenger but so removed from the functional hierarchy you don’t even have a title.

Except. Well. There was always…

“Nerd!”

You drag your eyes away from ledger lines and decimals to blink at Yasopp. The sniper is drunk and enjoying himself. And pointing at you.

“Captain says you have to have a drink when you’re done.”

One finger curls over a notebook’s cover, and you contemplate how many more hours of work you can eek out before you’re too tired for responsible accounting.

“I swear the books get worse every time I come back.” It’s lighthearted, but also too fucking true. “I’ll be working late.”

Yasopp shakes his head. Grins. “Orders.”

Your eyes roll away from the pirate and back to the mathematic wreck on the desk. “Whatever. Just leave me something and I’ll lift a glass to your unconscious ass before I sleep.”

Cackling, Yasopp ferries your answer back to the party, and you work the puzzle of knotted equations until the lantern stops swinging and the racket falls silent. Pirates not on watch stumble through the corridors on their way to their bunks, slurring and laughing on the other side of the wall. Even that goes quiet eventually.

Your eyes burn from focusing too hard to blink for minutes on end, and you decide it’s safe to stop for the night. Off come the glasses, neatly folded and tucked into a desk drawer. They’ll be safer there than on your person, and you only need them for reading fine print. You didn’t used to. Not when you started. But that’s true of a lot of things.

With joints that creak like the steps you ascend, you head up on deck. Bodies of the fallen sleep under a blanket of stars – the ones who drank themselves to sleep or refused to leave the party before waking in the morning. The few on watch peer down from crow’s nests or attend minor chores around their comrades’ spread limbs and upturned bellies.

Yellow lights contrast with the velvet black-blue stitching together endless sea and sky, and you can’t help relaxing just a little as you approach the one table with a conscious crewman. The cherry of his cigarette burns bright, and smoke curls into the breeze.

“Benn.”

He nods, mumbling your name. As you sit, he slides a large tankard to your side of the table.

It doesn’t look like wine. Doesn’t smell like beer. It’s the wrong color for sake. “It’s rum, isn’t it?”

“Didn’t send Yasopp with a preference,” the first mate says. The telling glint in his eye betrays his good humor. “This was all we had left.”

“I’ve seen the inventory. There’s plenty for the next week of travel, even if the crew gets shit-faced twice a day.”

Benn shrugs. “It was all that was left on deck.”

You doubt it, even if it’s more plausible, but there’s no point arguing. Time to finish the last task of the day.

Lifting the heavy cup, you tilt your head back and chug.

“Steady.” Benn watches with his arms crossed.

You drink rather than answer. Swallowing fire, you drain half of what was left for you.

“I’m tired,” you say when you stop to breathe, “and I want to go to bed.”

Bed is a hammock in the groaning belly of the ship. Surrounded by other hammocks. Full of pirates. Who snore. Loudly. A night of drinking never helps the volume, but maybe your share will help you black out.

“If I drink fast enough, I’ll be asleep before it hits and it won’t matter.”

“If you say so.”

He’s very good at letting people make their own mistakes. You’ve watched him to it. But this isn’t the first time you’ve rushed through liquid social obligations on your way to rest. He doesn’t know you as well as he thinks, you’re sure.

The second half of the rum goes down like the first, and you aren’t even tipsy as you take your leave and head below. It’s a good plan. Maybe it would’ve worked, too, if it weren’t for the chaos you find in your assigned quarters.

While the little study always holds records, you aren’t aboard often enough to have a dedicated sleeping space. No cabin. Not even a bunk. Just a hammock in the hold with the lower ranks. You left your small trunk by one near the door, and you’d slept there for the past five nights running without issue.

Until now.

There must’ve been a brawl, or one of the bigger men misjudged his approach under the influence, because a wad of ripped and tangled hammocks sits piled in the center of the room. All the remaining options, including your unofficially claimed space, are full.

You can’t go to bed.

There is no bed.

Benn doesn’t seem surprised when you come back.

Sooner or later, the rum will hit, and you know better than to wait for it on your feet. So, you pick a place by Benn’s table and settle with your ass on the deck and your back against a wall.

Technically speaking, you’ve slept in worse places.

Realistically speaking, you usually sleep in better.

Honestly speaking, you’re too old for this shit.

This is the consequence of your actions. Today it’s glasses and rum. Tomorrow it will be a sore head and an aching tailbone. The day after it will probably be a cannonball to the face. No matter how lackadaisical the crew behaves, they’re all pirates at the end of the day, and so are you.

Why are you a pirate? Why are you here? Your life was so slow and orderly before a big grin and a thatch of red hair flipped it on its head. Did you ever actually agree to this life, or did you just fail to argue with the plan? That must be the problem. If you never learn to say no, whatever comes is your fault. But if you learn to say no, you’ll have to learn to say yes, too. That might be worse.

Of course, Benn can’t let you mope in peace.

“What’s eating ya?”

“Mosquitoes, maybe.”

“Nah.” He stubs out the butt of his cigarette and reaches for the pack. “Been off since your last sabbatical. Longer, if we’re being honest, but it really has its teeth in you now.”

“Nothing.” Gods. You sound like a teenager.

He hums, lights up a fresh smoke, and leaves it alone.

You can’t even explain why you’re in a bad mood. It’s just vibes. A feeling that makes sense until you try caging it in words.

You’ve been part of Shank’s entourage for years now, and you’ve seen the impact of his influence.

He makes things better. Things grow under his care.

That’s good. That’s great. That’s better than most folks in the New World ever expect to find in their lifetimes. But somehow it doesn’t apply to you.

You let your head fall back against the wall. The hollow thunk sounds as empty as you wish you could make your skull.

People drink to forget, or so some sad, broken soul tells you in every bar in every port you’ve ever visited. It’s a neat trick you never learned, though. Booze makes you think. Then it makes you speak. Then it makes you sleep.

It doesn’t make you the party girl the Red-Haired Pirates clearly hoped for the first time they dragged you into a night of carousing. It didn’t help your on-again off-again crewmate status. No one besides a handful of the most seasoned officers knew how to speak to you, and you could count those on one hand.

If you could bring yourself to care less about what you did, you would’ve flipped everyone the bird ages ago, refused to board the Red Force after one of your little layovers and made a home somewhere.

But you can’t, and you don’t, and the alcohol fumes up from belly to brain with old memories.

Once upon a time you bumped into a grey-haired man at the dock. His hands were full of loose papers and notebooks. When they clattered to the ground, you immediately helped pick them up, because that was just good manners. As you gathered the pages, you saw the numbers, and your brain leapt ahead of your mouth, so as you handed the collection back to Shank’s first mate, you blithely mentioned, “You have some transportation and duplication errors in the top account that are throwing off your totals.”

And, low and behold, the next day the first mate – one Benn Beckman – tracked you down and discussed working for one of the most powerful people in the Grand Line.

You almost turned him down. You tried, actually. But he insisted you at least hear his captain out, face to face. And then Shanks smiled, and it was all over.

They gave you a strange job.

Emperors reigned in their own ways. Force and threats were standard, but Shanks followed no rules. He governed without actually doing anything, relying on booty stolen at sea and the generosity of thriving island economies to maintain his ship and crew. At least it looked that way from the outside. But the system relied on more than luck and good looks.

Your tasks follow a cycle. The Red Force drops you at an island, leaves you there, then picks you up a few (many) months later. When you’re aboard, you review and balance the ship’s books. When you’re on land, you do the real work. You record how things work on the island, or how they don’t, and you gather the numbers to prove it. Then Shanks and his commanders use your data to find the best ports for long stays, to spot unrest before it became insurrection, and to generally handle pirate business.

Honestly, you enjoy it. You never thought your uncanny skills with numbers could lead to so much travel, and you like island hopping. It’s nice to be special. It’s nice to be needed, even a little. It should be enough. You have more than most.

The itch in the back of your mind has been getting worse, though, especially as you start looping back to hubs you visited in your early days as a quasi-pirate.

Things have grown. People have put down roots. They flourish and offer good fruit in return.

But you haven’t found a way to grow into the Red-Hair Pirates the way other people settle into their lives. Your roots grasp at salt water.

At the start of this adventure, years ago, you let the tide wash you out to sea. It’s no one’s fault but yours, and that doesn’t make you feel any better, so you self-isolate and avoid what you can’t explain.

Pirates aren’t big on feelings talk.

And you’re at least half a pirate.

“Eh, nerd still can’t hold her rum?”

Apparently, Shanks hasn’t surrendered to tomorrow’s hangover yet.

You huff as Benn’s chuckle rumbles over you. Without opening your eyes, which slipped closed at some point you can’t be fucked to remember, you say, “Nerd can hold her rum. Nerd’s hammock was a casualty of war.”

“Ah.” A chair creaks as the captain joins Beckman’s table. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t stay out voluntarily. And if you hold your rum so well, why don’t you have another with us?”

“I did my duty. I just want to sleep.”

Shanks tsks, and you finally crack an eye open. He’s taken the chair closest to your spot on the floor. “Why aren’t you sleeping?” You knock your boot against his bare ankle, frowning. “You should take better care of yourself.”

“Are you going to nip at me like a sheepdog until I do? Come on, you’re awake. Have another drink.”

The insistence is inching towards an order. While the Red Hair Pirates have never followed conventional standards of respect, when Shanks tells you to do something, you listen.

Groaning, swearing, and taking your precious time, you stretch and inch away from the haze of sleep. You spare a filthy look for Beckman as you clamber onto a chair, because you can easily reason your way into this being his fault. The bastard smirks around his cigarette.

Maybe he really did plan this. Maybe Shanks did. Maybe the rats are in this together. Fuck knows what “this” is, but you’re sailing through Tipsy on the way to Drunk, and clearly there are plans in motion to blow you to the far shores of Hammered.

Fresh bottles have appeared on the table as if by magic, and you pull your discarded tankard over, resigned to your fate. It’s already been refilled.

You drink. So does Shanks. Beckman enjoys his smoke.

It’s…companionable. If it was always like this, maybe you could set your roots in the Red Force’s planks. Trust it to be a home.

But you’ll be ashore again in a few days, and if you let yourself grow into the crew, you’ll tear yourself apart when they leave.

And if they never come back?

Even a Yonko can die. And Shanks is changeable. One day they may not come back for you.

Did you eat dinner? The rum glows warm in your blood.

You find yourself ready to forgive Beckman. For… whatever. He was responsible. He was never the problem.

Shanks is deep in his thoughts, famous red hair drifting in the breeze. As he quietly enjoys his sake, you glare.

“Do you realize how frustrating you are?”

His cup pauses against his lips. His eyebrows leap up. “Eh?”

Yes. This is what you’ve been wrestling with it. He’s the problem.

“You’re the strongest.” You gesture as you speak, and rum splashes out, burning the cracked skin over your knuckles. “No one else can take care of you, so you better take care of yourself.”

Another kick. You aim for your captain’s ankle again, but you hit his shin. It’s not a big deal. It’s not like you could hurt him if you tried. While you aren’t the weakest aboard the Red Force, you’re pretty damn far from the strongest.

Shanks whines anyway, and Beckman’s dry laugh sounds like old leaves rattling in the wind.

“Seriously.” You empty your cup. That gives the truth time to percolate. There’s no helping it now. You’re smashed, and your dignity has flown. Your fist props up your drooping head as tangled thoughts spin out into thread.

“It’s so frustrating. You have no idea what’s like being weaker than someone you love.”

The immediate silence takes a minute to catch up with you. The rum has floated you beyond a standard perception of time, and your head is too loud to notice everything outside hasn’t kept up.

You frown.

You think.

And you realize.

In that moment, you aren’t a ship. There is no chair, table, or lantern to keep you steady. You’re floating in the black abyss, and you know without seeing that a sea king is circling for the kill. There’s no air. Or light. Or distraction. Just terrible, dreadful awareness.

Oh, gods.

Stars, seas, and sabers. Fucking hells and all the horrors below.

You love Shanks.

It’s the stupidest thing in the world, and it makes perfect sense.

You just informed on yourself. To yourself. And possibly to the two men eyeing you, but there’s grace in nebulous phrasing, and no one should be taken too seriously after so much rum.

You leap to your feet and point straight between the captain’s eyes.

“I am drunk, and I refuse to face the consequences of my actions.”

Shanks just blinks at you, and Beckman keeps his thoughts to himself as you back away, trip over your chair, and stagger back down to the study. You hold your head so high you can’t see your feet, and you earn a dozen nicks and bruises on your way.

You sleep in the corner with your jacket as a blanket, and in the morning, you tell yourself nothing happened at all.

[peppermintquartz]

Prompt: laundry day

Tommy does not want to wake up. It's the day he has to do Most Dreaded Chore: Laundry.

He's certain that if he does go to hell because of the whole gay thing, his punishment will be to do laundry for eternity. Sorting. Washing. Drying. Ironing. Folding. Hunting down stray socks.

Before he even runs the dryer, he will need to clean out the lint trap and then check the vent. The past week the 217 ground crew had to help with not one, not two, but three houses that caught fire because of vents clogged up with lint. Tommy is feeling a little paranoid.

Grumbling, he rolls out of bed and pulls on the very last shirt and pants combo he has left: a faded green tee with holes in the side and a pair of purple shorts from his, let's say more... exhibitionist, days.

He's trying to work out whether Evan's teal sweater should be parked under delicates or darks when the owner of the sweater enters the bedroom, armed with a tray of breakfast. It smells so good that Tommy's stomach rumbles loudly in complaint, but Tommy doesn't move. No eating until the first load is in the machine.

"Hey, you're up," Evan says brightly. He sets the tray of food on the nightstand and joins Tommy on the floor. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to figure out how to wash this sweater," Tommy says.

Evan takes it, looks at the label, and glances around. "Honey, what is your system?"

"Darks here, lights here. Then tops, bottoms, socks and underwear." Tommy points to each pile. Then he holds up the knit sweater. "I don't know if this will shrink in the wash or not."

Evan stares at him. Then he heaves a sigh. "Okay. How have you mastered flying a chopper but don't know how to sort dirty laundry? Go. Have breakfast. I'll do this round and then I'll teach you."

"What? No, there's no need-"

"Thomas Kinard. Go eat the breakfast I cooked for you. Drink your coffee made the way you like it." Evan hauls Tommy to his feet and pushes him in the direction of the bed, smacking his ass in his tiny purple shorts for good measure. "Don't even come near this part of the room until you've finished breakfast."

Bossy Evan is very sexy in Tommy's eyes, but his hunger for actual food outvotes his libido. As he scarfs down scrambled eggs and pancakes, Evan is re-sorting the pile, muttering under his breath that he should put up a chart of care tags here and at Eddie's, this is why home economics should be mandatory for grown adults living alone, etc.

Tommy is about halfway through when Evan carts the first load off to the laundry room. Eyeing the piles left behind warily, Tommy wonders what complicated system he's going to learn.

Evan comes back. "Finish your food," he orders. But he's smiling as he says it, so clearly Tommy's lack of competence in washing his dirty clothes has not turned him off yet.

"Thank you," Tommy says, "for the food and for that." He gestures to the piles on the floor.

Evan joins him on the bed, accepting a slice of tomato from the end of Tommy's fork. "A third of those clothes are mine anyway." He chews and swallows. "Anyway, you had some concept, so it's not like I had to do it from scratch." Then, as Tommy eats the rest of his breakfast, Evan talks about reading care labels, sorting by color and fabric, and how he learned to hand wash delicates after ruining some very expensive lingerie belonging to an ex-girlfriend.

Tommy can't look away from Evan's animated face and the way he can't keep his hands still as he speaks, and he thinks, I want to keep him forever.

"Move in with me," Tommy says.

Evan stops mid-spiel. "What?"

"Move in with me," Tommy repeats. "Not... Not because you can cook or do the laundry, that's not the reason why I'm saying it. It's just. I like this. I love this. The whole bit where I wake up and I don't have to remember if you're here or at the loft, and we can steal bites from each other's meals, and I can look after you the way you look after me. And you already have my key. We can meal prep together, and I can do the dirtier chores, I can scrub the toilets and unclog the vents - don't run the dryer until I do - and maintain your Jeep, and we can fall asleep together whenever we don't have overnights."

It's a lot of words for him to say at one go, and Tommy feels himself faltering near the end. Licking his lips, Tommy swallows dryly. He reaches for Evan's slack hand.

"I love you and I want to be with you as often as possible. If you prefer to keep the loft, then it's also okay, I'm not pressuring you to-"

Evan shuts him up with a firm kiss. Then he smiles into the kiss. "Yes. I'll move in with you. My lease is almost up anyway."

Tommy exhales. Then he nudges Evan's nose with his own. "Alright. Let me drink my coffee, and I'll go check on the vent, and then you can teach me how to sort our dirty clothes."

"Okay. I'm gonna go find out what you have in your kitchen so I won't bring duplicates."

[tarot-bimbo]

PICK A PILE♡⁠(⁠>⁠ ⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠<⁠)⁠♡

What does your future spouse look like?

1. 2. 3.

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Pile 1

Okay so pile one I am seeing someone who works out he or she is most definitely strong they could pick you up. I am seeing like 5'11 he could be that height or shorter I am hearing short king 👑 this person is definitely not so tall they could even be shorter than you actually. But you like that obviously, this person is gonna be your Husband most definitely gonna try to put a ring on your finger REALLY fast. You got lots of wands and swords so I am taking that as he definitely is not gonna disappoint you in bed and if this is a girl then she definitely has a wap lmao one of you may get shy a lot. There could be an age gap I am seeing short hair maybe black or white curly. He could be Italian or from Germany? He could like the beach a lot when you do get with this person he is most definitely gonna take you to his favorite place on the beach. He could also live by water or you two will meet by water. He's rich like not Beyonce rich but he doesn't have to work ya know? He's I can see he has chest hair and if you are a man reading this she definitely has really bug breast or really small. If you are a man reading this I think you definitely have a thing for milfs or they flock towards you and if you are a woman a lot of older men throw themselves on you or that's just what you prefer. They definitely have a big house. Possibly does gymnastics. They could also wear a lot of red or layered clothing. For men I am seeing a girl who mostly wears long dresses and for the woman I am seeing a man in formal get up honestly or like really layered clothing like the aesthetic boys you may see on Pinterest with the baggy layered cloths and stuff. Whoever they are they can dress. They like to cover up a lot tho maybe a cancer I thought of a crab going in their shell suddenly. They definitely also have a high role in their workspace and could even own their own business. Big bosses are what they call themselves 🤣. They have a very heavy accent probably not from the same place you are. Probably an earth sign. I rolled my zodiac dice and you got Aries,Virgo and Gemini.

( I hope this pile resonates with you. I love you☄️)

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Pile 2

Okay so pile twooo Already I am getting your person is loud and their personality. They keep you guessing. They definitely party,like the party doesn't start until they arrive. Your person is definitely clumsy I almost mixed two tarot decks😵‍💫. Definitely day dreams a lot they are very care free they might see the world as one day it's gonna end why not ruin it first? Okay so this person talks a LOT like never a dull moment with them tho. They could travel a lot honestly I ain't getting a lot on look but like green eyes dark hair and eyes, you may think their eyes are very intense and intimidating. They like wearing a lot of hats tho they could possibly be 25 and up. He works he's not rich or anything but he can most definitely spoil you. They definitely like touching you in public and being in nature. They are a lot to even handle not gonna lie but they are also very closed off. They don't want to tell me too much they like surprises and they know you probably hate waiting and stuff. I am also seeing dark red hair like cherry red. He's talking about how he dyed his own hair and has to mix multiple colors. I think you or them might like both genders. Heavy on loving animals might even be an Instagram influencer. I am seeing you two are closer than you think 🤔 my phone buzzed as confirmation on that. They will always be on the phone with you texting FaceTime regular calls it doesn't matter as long as you two are talking. I rolled my astrology dice to see what zodiac sign you would get and I got Aquarius,Libra and Scorpio so these could be in their birth chart.

( I hope this pile resonates with you. I love you☄️)

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Pile 3

Okay so right off back he may look like that dude from Ghostbusters Dan Aykroyd but when he was in his prime. They are on the thicker side and honestly they just might work a lot then go home and do nothing 😅 I am seeing you are the one to spice up there life might even be a chef. He has longer hair definitely not black but not honey blonde more so like a dirty blonde or like a golden brown. He likes to garden and build things. They are the type of you say that your car was messed up could fix it even if they are a woman this could shock the shit out of you. They could look like total dork glasses and everything. Favorite movie could be revenge of the nerds. I am getting a lot of older references and shit oop they definitely have a potty mouth 🫢. But I think both of you are older than most ( please don't take that the wrong way 💖) or just really have a thing for old stuff. They definitely live in the city but when they get with you I see you two might move in a place with more land and green fields I heard like Oregon but I have no idea what that place looks like 😅. I used my astrology dice to find out potential zodiac signs. Aquarius, Libra, Capricorn. You got two of the same zodiacs from pile 2 might wanna rest that too or not 🤪.

( I hope this pile resonates with you. I love you☄️)

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(if you are looking for a private reading please let me know mwah(⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠³⁠˘⁠))

I hope you enjoyed this pick a pile♡

[sometimesanalice]

Like I Can (Part 1)

Summary: After yet another bad date and tired of swiping on apps, the Dagger Squad steps in to help you out by setting you up on a series of blind dates. Much to Rooster’s dismay.

Warnings: fuff, slight angst. Minors DNI

Length: 3.2K

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

Part 2

(We’re kicking of Valentine’s Day a bit early❣️ Enjoy!)

“I’m all for growing the sport, but Brady buying an MLP team is ruining the integrity of the league. He may be the GOAT of football, but he has nothing on Ben John’s world-class pickleball game,” your date Max passionately states from his spot across from you at the Italian place he had recommended.

Or was his name Mac?

He’d already told you all about the CRBN paddle drama. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if he had already prepared a PowerPoint presentation on the topic complete with transitions and color-coded charts. He seems the type.

And he had yet to ask you a single question about yourself all evening.

You can tell he is gearing up for the next part of his rant, when your phone lights up on the table, the ringer on higher than you realized.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I thought I had this on silent. It’s my mom, I should probably take this,” you apologize to him, your phone already halfway raised to your ear.

“Hey, kid, how’s it going?”

“Hi Mom, I’m with someone right now. Is everything ok?” You let a little worry tinge the tone of your voice.

“Seriously?” Rooster drolly rasps on the other end of the line, “Are we actually doing this?”

“Oh no! Is she alright?” You wouldn’t consider yourself actress, but you think you’re really selling the performance with the way you widen your eyes and how you make your voice go a little tighter and higher.

“Yup, seems like we’re really doing this. What’s it this time, kid? Did grandma slip on a banana peel and then get run over by a reindeer?” You can practically feel his eyes rolling as he begrudgingly goes along with you.

“Oh my goodness, that sounds serious! How would that even happen?” you ask, shaking your head in in faux shock determined to really sell the act.

“Is everything ok?” Max-Mac whispers to you from across the table. 

His profile didn’t raise any red flags when you’d swiped on him. If anything, he’d seemed a bit more of the beige flag type. Your chats had been fine, he seemed fine, so why not meet up for a date?

What you didn’t realize until it was too late was that “Sports Enthusiast” actually translated to “Pickleball Fanatic”.

“Hold on, Mom,” you hear Rooster scoff as you pull the phone away from your ear. “I’m so sorry, there’s been a family emergency. It’s my grandmother. I really need to go,” you announce to Mac-Max grabbing your purse from the back of the chair. “Thank you so much for understanding. And good luck at your pickleball tournament!” you call back to him as you hustle towards the front door.

“I take it you’ve made your escape?” You can hear the humor in his voice, your antics are nothing new to him.

“Oh my god, was that seriously only thirty minutes? He wouldn’t stop talking about pickleball, Rooster. Anytime I tried to change the subject, he found a way to circle right back to it!” You tell him as you attempt to dig your keys out from where they were buried in your bag. “And then, he pulled up the leg of his jeans and said, I kid you not: ‘Don’t worry, this isn’t an ankle monitor, I’m just wearing my ankle weights.’ Who does that?”

“Just come to the Hard Deck. You should have canceled like I told you to in the first place. Bob and Coyote got back the other day, so everyone’s here. Well, almost everyone,” he says pointedly. “We’re more fun anyways. And Hangman has been harassing me about you, something about your fluke of a win?”

You’d kicked Jake’s ass the last time you played darts with him. Although in his defense, he had been pretty drunk that night and it was a less than fair game since Phoenix would distract him while Fanboy moved your darts on the board.

You wouldn’t be challenging him to a rematch anytime soon. Not unless the odds were in your favor, it was better to keep him on his toes and his ego in check.

Thankful for the princess parking you managed to snag when you first arrived, you unlock your car and toss your bag into the passenger seat before climbing in. Breathing out a sigh of relief to be done with Mac-Max once inside.

“You back in your car yet?” Rooster asked. He was such a worrier, but you can’t say it bothered you. You liked knowing he cared.

“Yeah, just got in.”

“Ok good, see you in a few. Drive safe, kid.”

Thirty minutes later Natasha was sliding a cold, frothy pint in front of you with a sympathetic look.

It wasn’t too busy at the Hard Deck yet, but it was still early in the evening. You knew it would pick up soon, and before long Penny would be ringing her bell on some rowdy unsuspecting customer.

“Ankle weights?” She asked, trying and failing to keep from laughing at your expense.

“Seriously, Rooster?” you shoot a glare in his direction, “Where’s the loyalty?”

“What? She was right there when I called you. A request that was your idea, if you remember,” he said as he walked up to you, squeezing your shoulder before sliding his arm around you in greeting. “Plus, it’s not like you don’t already tell Phoenix about all your escapades. You really know how to pick ‘em, kid.”

You’ve known Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw since before you had braces back when you were still wearing your hair in two braids. Your moms had been on the school PTA together at the time and had hit it off immediately.

He hadn’t been too happy about being forced to hang out with the kid who was couple years younger than him, especially one who was so clearly enamored with the cute older boy. While you’d outgrown that phase, for the most part, somethings stuck- like the nickname. 

And over the years you’d formed your own bond outside of the forced proximity of your mothers’ friendship.

He’d taught you how to throw a punch, the different ways to pitch a baseball, and to drive a stick shift. You’d taught him how to whistle with his fingers, to play Nerts, and to tie a tie (after asking your dad to teach you).

The give and take was easy with him, you both showed up for the other.

You were there the night he drunkenly fell through the glass patio door at Jason Cameron’s homecoming party. As one of the only sober people there since he wouldn’t let you drink, or let anyone else give you alcohol for that matter, you were the one to take him to the ER. “Don’t worry, kid,” he had slurred, pressing the Washington High t-shirt that you’d found in your trunk to his face to stop the bleeding, “Looks s’worse than it feels.” And you were the one to stay with him as he was stitched up. The evidence of that night still unmistakable on his face.

He was there for you when your parents had sat you down and told you they were getting a divorce. A hurricane of angst and grief, you hadn’t left your room for anything other than school for over a week when he’d let himself in your room one afternoon. Rubbing small circles on your back as he’d let you cry for a bit, he didn’t even tease you about the stains you’d left behind on his shirt. And then he’d herded you into his crappy car and drove you to the slightly sketchy amusement park an hour away with the Tilt-A-Whirl and the giant corndogs. And when he’d told you “It’s going to be ok, kid” on the ride back home, you believed him.

You had been there for him when his mom passed, and all during that dark period after when he was set on self-destruction after his fallout with Maverick. While he had tried to push everyone away, you were always the type to hold on tightly to the people that mattered.

And then life had sent you on different directions. First when he went to college and then when you did. Next for him the Navy, and then you with your own career, both of you always in motion. You two shared a connection the way people with a long history do, the kind where you could go months without talking but knowing the other person is always right there if you need them. Your camaraderie sustained by texts, email, and the occasional FaceTime.

A long-distance friendship for over a decade.

So when your boss had approached you about a promotion that was dependent on you relocating to the West Coast, you thanked whatever kismet in the universe had you packing for San Diego where he was permanently stationed.

The break up with your boyfriend at the time was entirely too amicable considering how long you had been together. He was nice, the sex was nice, your life together was nice. You had all but signed the paperwork for your promotion when you told him, but he didn’t see himself as a west-coaster and you couldn’t envision yourself as anything but. Whether you had stayed together all that time out of convenience or complacency, you still couldn’t say.

It was easy to fall back into the comfort of your friendship with Rooster. Although the lanky teen you had known was replaced with a mustache sporting well-built man courtesy of the Navy. One that had left you feeling confusingly flustered on more than one occasion, and forced to cycle through your mental highlight reel of embarrassing teen Rooster moments to keep from your mind from wandering.

He’d helped you find your apartment, taught you about avoiding the 15 Northbound, and showed you where the best place in town to get tacos was. The transition was made easy with him by your side as he introduced you to his team members who quickly folded you into their group as one of their own.

That was a little over a year ago. You liked this new life of yours in San Diego.

And while the dating pool of men you could swipe through was much larger, well, some things never changed.

“You don’t get it, Rooster. You’re surrounded by absurdly hot Naval eye candy all day,” you complained gesturing to Natasha, she raised her beer to you as thanks in response. “While you’re getting women throwing themselves at you because of the gold wings, I’m fighting for my life on these stupid apps where all the men on there are posing with fish. It’s brutal!”

You’d need to officially call things off with Max-Mac later, thinking to yourself how glad you were that you never gave him your real number, and instead signing up for a Google voice number. You were just not cut out for the competitive pickleball lifestyle.

“Bradshaw, why don’t you set her up? It’s not like we don’t know enough people who would be better options than these fish men,” Natasha asked, like it was the most logical thing in the world, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, Bradshaw. Tell Nat your super logical reasons for leaving your longtime friend to fend for herself.” You knew where this was heading, so you took a long swig of the beer Phoenix had brought you.

“Seriously, not this again.” His arm that was around you was removed in favor for pinching the bridge of his nose and looking up to the ceiling like it would spare him from the conversation.

“You started it, now tell her.”

“I need another damn drink if we’re going to do this,” Rooster mumbled.

“Me too,” chimed Natasha, clearly reveling in his misery.

“Make that three. I need to catch up.” You hadn’t even stuck around long enough to get a drink at the restaurant, and now you were ready to let loose a bit.

He grunts out some unintelligible thing and then stalks off to the bar shaking his head.

“I’m an upstanding citizen, I pay my taxes, I make a mean peanut butter brownie, and I always drive him around when the Bronco is in the shop for a tune up. It’s literally the least he could do,” you say to Phoenix as you watch him chat with Penny as she works to grab the fresh bottles.

“Oh, so this is thing,” Natasha says decidedly when she eyes the six beers he’s carrying back to the table, three bottles held by the neck in each of his large hands. His classic Hawaiian shirt fluttering with every step, your eyes briefly drifting down to his defined waist.

“Sure is,” you confirm, drawing out the word. Downing the rest of the beer from your pint glass before reaching for one of the new bottles Rooster was divvying out amongst your trio, “I’ve never asked him for anything-”

“That is a boldfaced lie. And you know it,” he cuts in, as he hands you a granola bar from his pocket, that he must have snagged from Penny. “You definitely asked me to set you up with Kyle Cooke from my baseball team in high school. I didn’t do it then, and I’m not doing it now,” he declared, pointing at you with an accusatory finger to further drive the statement home.

“Reasons being?” Natasha wheedled, a mischievous smirk on her face. You could tell she was eating this up, there were two things Natasha Trace loved most in this world: juicy gossip and giving Rooster a hard time.  

Ever the showman, he dramatically lifts up a finger, “First of all, everyone I know is an asshole.”

“I am offended on Bob’s behalf,” you countered, unwrapping the bar and taking a bite, annoyed. Hangman might fit the description, but certainly not Bob.

“Two,” he continues on, raising a second finger, and ignoring you completely as if you hadn’t just made a very valid point, “Let’s say I set you with a friend and then you end up hating them. Then you’ll judge me for being friends with them, we’ll argue, and eventually we won’t be friends anymore. Or even worse, I set you up with someone, you hit it off and date for a while. What happens when you break up? I’m left having to pick sides and walk on eggshells around you guys about the other person.”

“God, you’re such a overthinker. That all sounds totally rational, you drama queen,” you look to Phoenix for agreement, but she’s busy typing out a text message on her phone.

“And three, it’s messy as fuck. And I don’t need to hear about your trophy of a one-night stand.”

Now it’s your turn to roll your eyes, “That was one time! It wasn’t a trophy it was a gold medal.”

“Wait, what?” Confusion coloring Natasha’s features. 

“One time this guy gave me one of those plastic gold medal things on a lanyard, kind of like the ones they give out at kids soccer games, after we hooked up. I mean, kicked him out right away, but I did keep the medal. It was a good confidence boost,” you shrug.  It wasn’t exactly a high point moment for you.

After that encounter you’d definitely started scrutinizing every profile a bit harder before swiping right, or at least you thought you had been. In your defense, at least Max-Mac’s profile didn’t have a fish photo, but the bar was still clearly on the ground.

“I knew you when you wore those shirts with that big mouthed monkey on them. And that’s the kind of shit I don’t need to know about. I don’t wanna be involved. Not gonna happen, kid,” his declaration resolute.

“Well, that sure is something, Bradshaw,” Natasha states, giving him a curious look.

“What are y’all over here discussing so intently,” Hangman questions as he saddles up to your little group, tucking his phone into his pocket. 

“We were just getting into the finer details of the kid’s dating life and how I am going to fix it by setting her up with this great guy I know,” she pronounces, looking all too pleased with herself. A truly self-satisfied grin gracing her face.

Natasha Trace was probably the most bad ass person you’ve ever met, so the idea of her setting you up with someone had you sitting up straighter on the stool you were seated on, “Really?”

“Who?” Rooster demands, frowning at her.

“Yeah, I mean Bradshaw clearly has his convictions, and I respect that. However, I’m an excellent wing-woman. Seriously, I don’t know why I haven’t thought about introducing you guys before. You two would be perfect together.”

Hangman never one to miss an opportunity to rile up Rooster is quick to jump in, “Just because you fly in a two-seater doesn’t make you a good wing-woman, Phoenix. However, now that you mention it, I have a buddy who might knock your socks off. Unless you’d rather just knock boots, I’m sure he’d be up for whatever you wanted,” he shooting you a wink. “I think I’ll toss my name in the ring here too. After all, I’m very good.”

“You want to make it a bet, Bagman?” Her accent always got a little more pronounced when she went toe to toe with him.

“What’re you thinkin’, Darlin’?” he drawls suggestively with a sharp smile. That ever-present toothpick being rolled in his mouth from side to side.

“You guys are not going to be making bets around the kid’s love life,” Rooster snaps.

“The big dogs are talking, Bradshaw,” Hangman taunts as he waves him off.  

“$50 entry? The dates happen here and at the end the kid picks which date was the best. Winner takes all?” You can see the competitive gleam in her eye.

“Alright, alright. Works for me, Phoenix. I can’t wait to take your money.”

“The hell you are,” Rooster barks, still trying to regain control of the quickly spiraling situation.

Well, this had certainly taken a turn.

You find yourself reaching for your third beer of the night.

And you’re even more surprised when Hangman hollers for the rest of the team to join, and before you know it your dating life takes centerstage as the subject of the bet between the group of competitive naval aviators. Many of the others deciding to join in, never ones to shy away from a bit of rivalry.  

“What do you say? You up for it?” Natasha asks, wanting to make sure you were still on board now that her original offer had taken on a life of its own.

You look over and see Rooster looking at you like you’d be crazy to get involved in their kind of chaos. You know he can already tell what your answer will be.

“Why not?” you agree cheerily as he groans into his beer.

At least you would be spared from swiping for a while. It’s what you deserve, you are an upstanding citizen after all.

Get ready for some dates! Part 2

Written as part of @roosterforme’s #Love Is In The Air TGM Fic Challenge! 

Song Inspiration Sam Smith’s “Like I Can”.

Thank you Jordan (@gretagerwigsmuse) for letting me bounce ideas off of you!

Edit: I’ve started a tag list for Part 2! Just let me know if you’d like to be added!

[thefanboyhub]

Random ass head cannons I have for SBG gang yuh let's go:

Note/Update: Disregard the eye color thing for Aiden cuz the author has confirmed that his eyes are contacts ✨

Tyler will call people he likes (platonic or romantic) princess regardless of gender, mostly uses it when he's teasing them or in like idk a passive aggressive way. Like "No shit, princess." Or "Okay princes, calm down." Always paired with an eye roll tho.

Taylor hates Taylor Swift because of the annoying jokes people do with her name.

Adding to the last one, Aiden found that out when he made a joke once and she looked like she was about to throw him out the window lol.

Logan has helped everyone get their zodiac charts and read them. He fucking memorized them too. Little nerdy boy <3

Ashlyn doesn't initiate physical touch(hugs, hand holding, cuddling, ect) with people often (cannon btw), but when she does it always makes whoever was chosen feel special.

Ben listens to literally everything. All music. He's polyjamours.

Tyler is actually pretty good at guitar and was something he's liked since a kid, he loves music with heavy guitar in it. He also named his guitar Mel, like Melody. Only people to touch it was Taylor and Ben.

I see some people say Tyler has Logan tutor him but like. No? Tyler is hella smart and doesn't need to be tutored? Like c'mon. BUT Logan does have Tyler help him work out (Logan's body before and after phantom realm goes crazy man) after the whole almost died to phantom thing.

Aiden use to experiment with hair dye before he fell in love with blond. Also his eyes are red, it's not contacts. It's just his eye color lightening s he aged or smt. Fight me.

Ashlyn hates sour food and loves the more bitter stuff. Aiden loves sour food and hates bitter stuff. They trade food sometimes so they don't have to suffer.

Ben and Aiden know ASL, Taylor is learning to talk to Ben better.

Logan can draw but he doesn't do it often but he loves to watch Ben draw. It makes him want to draw too.

Taylor draws on her friends arms, Tyler will pretend to hate it same with Ash but they always ask her to redraw things when they fade. Aiden once had Taylor do an detailed tattoo like design on his arm in class. It didn't wash of for almost three weeks.

Aiden actually has sensitive skin, the wrong fabric gives him rashes. No one but him knows what fabric won't, it's all based on touch.

Tyler can cook really well, and even enjoys it sometimes. Can't bake for shit though.

Aiden knows ballroom dancing. Rich families or old fashioned one tend to know how to ballroom dance (I use to know)

That's all for now

[thefunkyspoon]

Humans Are Weird: Synesthesia

Okay, here's another one. You know how some of us get vibes from numbers? Like 1 being green, and most multiples of 7 being a Wednesday. I think it would be rlly funny trying to explain it to an alien.

"JustcallmeQuince? I was looking at your chart, and... it says you can see colors, words, and even times to numbers??" The Wasllook questions, baffled by the idea. He had no idea what in the Zoleck that could even mean.

The human perks up, putting down her odd looking meal, supposedly called a "sandwich".

"Oh. Er, yeah. Why?" JustcallmeQuince responds, tilting her head and raising just one eyebrow; an odd movement that, in this scenario, most likely means she is confused. "Well, I don't understand it. Could you explain?"

She leans back in her seat, her expression fading away into a small smirk, and she does something quite odd. She...rolls her eyes? Why? What does that mean?? I decide not to question it, as human behaviors are so often irrational and weird.

"Okay, sure. So, it's basically when you correlate colors, times, dates, words, letters, and numbers to eachother. Like how 'A' is red." She explains, though it just makes me more confused. How does that work? Do all humans do that?

"But...the letter 'A' is not red."

"Yeah, but they're the same. Like how 42 is a tired mom."

I try my best to look like I'm getting it, but that couldn't be farther from the truth. "Uh-huh... and, all humans experience this?"

She shakes her head, apparently an action which means "no." "Not all. In fact, it can vary. Everyone has it at least to since extent, though. Like how the color red signifies danger, or caution," she shrugs, like it was common knowledge. I quickly write down the information in my notepad; this might be very important for later.

"Okay... and, you have it, I suppose?"

"Yeah. I have whole personalities, colors, letters, and times for letters. Do you get it now?"

Surprisingly, I actually did understand it better, though I probably would never really get it. Humans are just so...confusing. Their logic makes absolutely no sense. I nod, trying to copy the humans body language, and get out of my seat. I walk out of the office, to go report the information to my boss. All the while, I'm left in a state of confusion and disbelief. That sums up humans for you, I guess...

The End! Buh-bye <3

[cadotoast]

In regard to your post (this), I humbly propose:

John Price x Reader, Soulmate AU of sort, fluffy but toxic.

John is no way in hell anything but an emotionally unavailable gentleman that makes his FWB love him. (IMO)

Ohhhh I like this prompt

Here you go! I hope it's good 😅

Civilian Female Reader x Emotionally Unavailable Soulmate Price.

Content warnings: toxic Price, allusions to sex but no actual smut, allusions to potential murder, slightly manipulative price

But Your Heart Got Teeth

The knock on your door is simultaneously expected and startling. You've been expecting this particular visitor since he'd signed the lease you'd emailed him a few days ago: John Price, a Captain in the SAS, and your new roommate.

"The door is open! Come on in!" You look around your living room one last time, the monochrome view mocking you for the barest of seconds before you turn towards the front door.

It swings open, and for the barest of seconds, you catch a glimpse of a mountain of a man, broad shoulders, well-groomed facial hair, and wearing a startled expression, before your world bursts into color.

~~~

"Hang on, hang on, hang on." Miriam waves her hands erratically in front of herself, stopping your rant. "Your hunk of a new roomie is your soulmate?"

You sigh into your cappuccino, the light brown color mesmerizing you.

"It was like some stupid romcom," you admit with a sigh. "Our eyes locked, he's standing in the doorway like some kind of Greek god, and then I have the most disorienting experience of my life."

"Did you pass out? I've heard some people pass out." Miriam stage-whispers to you across the cafe table.

While the burst of color has certainly been trippy to say the least, you and John had both gathered yourselves enough to shake hands, and you had assisted John in bringing his boxes in before you'd locked yourself into your bedroom and texted your best friend immediately.

Since then, you've googled a color chart, which before had been various shades of a color called "grey", and have been adjusting to such a vibrant world.

"No, I didn't pass out..." Your voice trails off. "but this whole 'soulmate thing' seems a bit anticlimactic."

Miriam chuckles at your use of air-quotes, stirring her tea. "Just because the universe has tied you two together by your souls doesn't mean you don't have to get to know the guy first." Her smirk grins. "What, did you expect him to drop everything and ravage you over the nearest surface?"

Your cheeks and ears warm with a blush. With a muttered "no, fuck you", you drain your cup and get to your feet to return it to the barista. Miriam is watching you like a hawk, and the minute your butt touches the soft green cushion of your chair, she pounces on you.

"Where's he from? What does he do? Does he have a girlfriend? What color are his eyes? Is he packing?"

Her enthusiasm is drawing some looks, and you rush to appease and quiet her shrill excitement.

"I don't know, he's military, I don't know, blue, and wouldn't you like to know?" You rattle off the answers to her rapid fire questions. "And why would the color matter to you? You can't tell the difference!"

"It matters to you, and therefore it matters to me." She reaches forward, her warm hand settling on your forearm. "So, how are you gonna jump his bones?"

~~~

Life with John as a roommate is... interesting. He sets up an auto draft to you each month for rent and his half of the utilities, even though he isn't at the place 80% of the time. You barely have time to learn that he was an only child, and to find a new brand of tea in your pantry, before he is shipped off for something work-based, and you're once again alone.

A week later, he is sneaking into the apartment at three in the morning, while you're having a midnight snack of cheesecake. Needless to say, you were both surprised to see each other.

~~~

A knocking on your bedroom door stirs you from sleep. Blearily, you roll over, glancing at the clock. 8 AM.

"Sorry to wake you," John's voice is muffled through the door. "But I was going to make breakfast. How do you like your eggs?"

You pause for a minute while your brain processes the information. "Um... Over easy, please." You rub your hands over your face tiredly. "Thank you, John."

"o'course." And then his heavy steps are recording once more.

When you exit your bedroom, clad in a long band T-shirt and leggings, you're greeted with the smell of bacon, eggs, and toast.

"Tea or coffee?" John looks over his shoulder to glance at you.

"Tea, preferably." For the first time, John cracks a smile at you, and you can't help but chuckle, walking around him to get to the electric kettle. "Though on occasion a coffee is nice."

John is wearing some comfortable-looking sweatpants and a worn T-shirt, similar to yours. The same band, actually, just a different tour.

The conversation between the two of you gets easier, less stilted and awkward. The two of you grow close over the following months. Perhaps too close. The first time you wake up in his bed, you know something has shifted.

"I'm not ready for a relationship." You tell him that afternoon. "Whatever is between us... I'm not ready for a boyfriend."

"Of course, love, whatever you want."

That should have been your sign.

You see other people. Or try to, anyways. They always fall through. So far, four dates in a row have bailed on you last minute, and you're starting to lose hope.

John always seemed to be home on the nights those dates fell through. Always there to pull you into his lap, listen to your tearful sniffles that another date has fallen through, and you're starting to question your worth.

He hugs you close to his chest and lets you bury your face, your makeup streaming down your cheeks. He lets you blubber and sob, silent as he strokes your hair and back. Once your tears have stopped, he scoops you into his arms and cuddles you, large hands rubbing in soothing circles.

Little do you know, the same man who is scooping you up into his arms to take you to bed is the same man who has stalked your last five date prospects and warned them away. The same man who lays you out on his bed and worships your body is the one who released Ghost, Gaz, and Soap on some poor sod in town who looked at you the wrong way.

And when you're cuddled in his arms, sweaty from your copious lovemaking, he whispers something in your ear. And when you don't pull away, but instead snuggle closer, he knows that he's won.

[pentapoda]

Well, i am writing fic again. Because i can apparently spend years lurking in mxtx proximal fandoms (shen yuan i love u), then a full year watching vox machina and then critical role campaign 1 and campaign 2, devouring all the caleb fic i can find and still not feel the energy to participate in the fandom. then be like no, no, this silly blue man and very serious tiny man with his violence ballet, this is where i have something to contribute (read, "someone did the au where the coinflip went the other way, right, right? huh i guess not, haha wouldn't it be funny if--")

???

Anyway it has been one month, i have written 25k, probably 15k to go, there is a Google slides doc with a diagram of the silken squall (its a giant kite, btw) and a map of the continent of marquet with to-scale color-coded annotations of each group's location and distance traveled by day, i have rolled stats for dorians parents (sorry dadvernwind, please have some extra guards, you need them), i made a ppt chart comparing parentvernwinds to the party's stats (y axis: win hearts [wis+cha], x axis: win fights [str + dex + con], bubble size: hit points) , i have a spreadsheet with the silken squall's land use and wealth distribution, ashton wants to know why he's so stressed when he's not even in the main pairing (jokes on him though he got to talk to dorian's mom twice and she threw out my arranged marriage subplot, look she says to me there's a marriageable young genasi right here who knows how to protect his own, they bonded over protective violence guys, ashton didn't notice), bell's hells sucked so bad at Orym's resurrection ritual i thought he might actually just stay dead, i had to go back and just let fearne lie,i gave the squall griffins to solve a travel-speed issue and now dorian's bitchy neglected griffin is the star of the last third of this fic, Imogen has emerged from the wings to live the horse girl movie she always wanted, and orym and dorian have not yet shared a scene together but i swear its happening soon

haven't written complete fic (not just a story set up) or anything longer than 10k since jan 2016 so.... this is good... tentatively optimistic here...

in conclusion:

(fcg isn't on there because the fic has bigger parts for orym, dorian, ashton, & fearne, but then i added laudna & imogen to make dorian's dad look better. ...it didn't work. XD)

[realdirtfacts]

Selling your merch and shipping from home with Fourthwall

I've been selling @shiftythrifting Junk Boxes - our curated secondhand mystery boxes - since 2017 using different platforms with different levels of success. I moved to Fourthwall in 2022 and my teeny tiny business has only grown since then! FW is free to use and you get ALL the money from your home sales save for the credit card processing fees. I don't miss the fee structure from our previous hosts, so I thought I'd write up a little guide on how easy it is to get started.

Things you need to start shipping from home:

A scale, and it doesn't need to be an expensive or large one! Even a kitchen scale works for small stuff.

Packaging and packing materials for the product(s) you're selling.

Access to a post office and/or a printer.

Funds set aside for postage. You'll get this money back with your Fourthwall payout when the month rolls over.

(Optional but handy) A ShipStation account.

Make yourself a store if you haven't already. You can sell print on demand, digital stuff, and your own inventory in one place but today we're talking about selling from home, so add a product and pick the middle option.

You can customize everything about your product on this page, from adding size and color variations, the materials used to make it, size charts, inventory, and more. Get an accurate weight of what you're selling in its packaging and add that here. Hit save and you have your first listing. Gonna be selling a variety of products? You can duplicate the listing with the meatball menu! Change the name, photos, and anything else that needs changing and have your second listing up in a couple minutes.

Didi protip: I like to put people's reviews right in the listing. Lots of photos help sell your product, but there's nothing like a positive review from fans!

Fourthwall's Collections feature lets me put my Junk Boxes in their own little section where I can set them to hidden or mark them sold out if I get sick or am on vacation. This lets me easily turn the self-fulfilled part of my store off while folks can still purchase print on demand and digital stuff and sign up for memberships.

Didi protip: If you are in the US, the US postal service will pick up your outgoing packages free of charge on any regular mail day. Just set up a pickup on USPS.com!

When you've made your first sale, you can either make the label yourself or connect directly to ShipStation through Fourthwall's app integration. That's brand new and I love it so far. My labels pop up in ShipStation about 24 hours after a purchase, giving people a little window of time to adjust their order or make changes before I ship it.

At that point, all that's left is handing it off to the postal carrier of your choice! Boom, you're done!

A final note from me, I moved ShopShifty to Fourthwall so I could have one address for ALL my merch instead of splitting it between Patreon, a print-on-demand store, and the Junk Box store. It's proven to be the best choice I've made in years and has saved me a ton of money in marketplace fees, Paypal's cut, and web hosting charges. This has genuinely been the easiest way to sell my merch!

[lemonjestercoffee]

horses! horses! horses! horses!

i redesigned them! with my own hcs and species design quirks. also woe, height chart be upon ye

some notes for everypony:

Twilight Sparkle- i like gold on her design but not the absurd amounts everyone else gives her for some reason, so i made it an accent color. yes her magic is gold now too because of her eyes. her hair was also inspired by Mikan Tsumiki's cause i thought a more orderly version of her choppy mess would look good on Twilight, i was right. also glasses go brr, i think she looks cute in 'em

Apple Jack- while i love the long fetlocks people give her, i can't see her actually doing that because they'd be a pain to keep clean, so i did the opposite and had her shave her feathering off. i also put her hair up to keep it off her neck so she doesn't overheat while working. her cutiemark is my favorite part cause it's that family symbol where two adults and a kid make a heart, but i made it an apple instead, does a better job at showing her emphasis on family ties. no hat cause i like the idea of her hat being from her dad, and she doesn't want to mess it up wearing it daily so she wears it exclusively to special events

Rainbow Dash- i decided to make her less of a living lightening bolt and leaned more into her lazy side, going for the type of butch lesbian look that makes her feel like she wears tank tops and hangs out in the basement getting drunk and listening to rock. i wanted her to look like the only part of her she actually puts effort into maintaining is her wings

Fluttershy- i take great enjoyment in making Flutters a fucking lumbering giant compared to his friends (yes my Flutters is a guy), taking fluttertree and running with it. no notes aside from tall and green patterns and long hair and ooo pretty bronze jewelry. ig also his cutie mark is like- it was suppose to just be a paw and a butterfly but i accidentally made a parasprite with it, and instead of fixing it i just rolled with it and made it look more intentional

Pinkie Pie- THIS HORSE GAVE ME SO MUCH TROUBLE!! every part of my body was like "give her patterns! add things to her hair! it makes sense for her!!" but everything i did looked wrong and i couldn't get it to work. so i bit the bullet and made her really plain... and it worked. i don't know why but she just.... looks so much better with a really simple design, the hair texture does all the heavy lifting really

Rarity- of everyone, she's the one who'd have the long pretty fetlocks, and i decided to double down on that by not only making them so long you can't see her hooves, but also by making her have the longest and softest coat in general. she has the time and dedication to take care of such a high maintenance coat and she's gonna do it. it's even more impressive when you realize ponyville uses exclusively dirt roads. aside from that i think she deserves nice jewelry, and they use leather straps cause i think leather would be a ponyville fashion staple, she shows her hometown pride in her fashion

Spike- i thought it was weird he was so small the whole run, he should have had a growth spurt at some point imo, so i made him a bit bigger and more proportional to the older teen dragons, this is less of a redesign and more of a "make him actually grow up" thing, he's still small but not toddler small. this is the point where Twilight starts complaining about him sitting on her back cause he's getting too heavy. i also don't like how adult Spike ended up looking, but i haven't made a redesign of him yet

i have made an older alicorn Twilight design that i've been referring to as Ethereal Twilight, but i might hold off on sharing that for a while cause i have some funky hc lore ideas for the alicorns that i wanna refine a little before posting her. maybe i'll have older Spike drawn by then too, who knows

[tiajk]

Little Miss Hamilton(I think i’m actually hilarious)

Masterlist

Warnings: reader is seen as the Hamilton of the crew, reader is implied to have powers but not have eaten devil fruit, Poc reader implied (brown skin, curly hair ), It’s a platonic mostly (hint of zosan x reader not a hint it’s plain a day), Cursing, pre time skip im mind, Best friends Nami & Ussop (such an underrated duo), Mostly the Anime in mind when writing this, no use of name or y/n, grammar errors (i js know there are)

A/n: Told you guys another fic would be out today (I love Hamilton) (if you watch Hamilton what’s your favorite song(s) mines are satisfied & Non-stop), you guys i wrote this with the worst stomach pain im gonna fucking die

Dividers from ; @y-yushin & @anitalenia

—It almost felt like a reward every single piece of it. Starting with the fact you were apart of the straw hat pirate crew. Luffy claimed that you were all the best including you. most of the time dismissing him with a smile and a small “thank you!!” Then going back to your books and writings. thinking back to the fights you’ve been though you were grateful for having your powers what was more important was knowledge knowing every single piece of information that you found valuable was important to you and you would do anything to obtain it. Even if that included staying up late at night sleeping all during the day which at first no one thought was odd just assuming you were like Zoro. At night was when you did your true calling the most knowledge obtained from the Stars making charts, maps, and hypothesis’s about the moon and why does it change every single night. Mind running through thousands of ideas on how. Most of the time you would ire yourself out so much that you would fall asleep on deck but someone would always awake in the night to check most of the time it was Sanji and Zoro. Whenever Zoro found you he would grumble stings of curses out of his mouth when he saw you. He didn’t understand why you would leave yourself out in the open just to get more information about the stars but he would rather die then let you sit out in the cold. Sanji was the same way he would find you most of the time after Luffy tries to sneak into the fridge and he can’t go back to sleep. Tonight is no different from the rest your slumped on the deck your book is closed secure so the wind wont open it with little bits of pages sticking out of it your notebook stacked on top as well. Sanji & Zoro both cant sleep tonight instead of arguing with each other the just drink and get to know each other better. Surprisingly there laughing together playfully bantering each other when Sanji’s expression changes and goes outside Zoro doesn’t know what he’s doing at first but then it clicks in his head you were probably asleep on the deck again. He follows Sanji out the kitchen door seeing Sanji picking you up bridal style already you look peaceful its like your boy knows that Sanji’s got you and that your safe. While he’s climbing up the stars when he passes zoro he stops “Can you get her books I would usually would get them but your here to help me this time”. He wants to roll his eyes but he can’t and for once he just listen maybe it’s the alcohol flowing through his system or maybe he knows how important your books are to you it’s your dream. During the day most of the time nami watched over you she would distract from your books claiming how you both needed a break. Dragging Ussop(he wanted to go) as you guys al go shopping and play a little dress up. By you guys its mostly nami and ussop finding clothes to give you and you to try on while they give you there opinions (Ussop has good fashion taste cant change my mind (u prob could but pls don’t). Nami Had this beautiful Long body con dress the base of the dress was a peachy pink with coral all over it the coral being in all different shapes the colors being blue, purple and ifferent shades of pink as well. “Go try it on it’s gorgeous and goes perfect with your skin tone ” taking the fabric from her hands you go to the dresseing room sort of excited to try it on. when you finished putting you examined your self in the mirror in the dressing room it was the perfect length on the floor but not enough to drag on your feet to annoy you but it hugged everywhere and it just felt perfect you didn’t really care if you have to go into debt for nami to buy this dress it would be worth it. While opening the door holding your hair in a low pony with no ponytail holder some curly staying in the front. Nami and Ussop mouth dropped to the floor when they saw you “What is it bad” you confidence going down slowly but it accelerates when nami says “It’s perfect on you we have to buy it it was literally made for you” you smile at her thanking her for the compliment “I agree it’s an amazing dress for you”.

—When going back in the dressing room as you put your other clothes on thinking what would Zoro and Sanji think about the dress you shiver at the thought of the reaction and shake it from your mind. When you guys head back to the ship it’s not loud and that worries you automatically as you speed up your pace to the going merry. Going to the kitchen is ur first stop and it was correct. You see Luffy, Sanji and Zoro all cooped up around something but you don’t know what “HMH” clearing your throat to get their attention. The all look in shock not expecting you to be there. Luffy hides the object behind his back “We thought you guys were still shopping?” “Well we're back now” You look at all three of the they seem nervous. Luffy is sweating hard “What do you have behind your back Luffy?” “Nothing” You don’t believe him so you place the shopping back on the counter and sit at the table with them “What’s the problem guys you seem nervous did i do something wrong?” They all looked at each other silently communicating “No we just don’t want you to get mad at us” it was really confusing why would you get mad? “I won’t promise” Luffy looks at you one more time just to make sure he brings the object in front of him and on the table it’s your book your book with everything in it. Part of you wants to get mad but you don’t “where did you find this?” “It was on the table fore you left I saw it and wondered what it was about didn’t know it was yours” Zoro states with his harms crossed looking at you “It’s okay but are any of the pages missing” you say examining every page that you could get your hands on slightly worried that some valuable information could be missing “No I made sure that nothing happened to it” Sanji blows the smoke out of his mouth “What happened?” Nami ask as she enters the room “Nothing just my books” Ussop comes behind you one of your books was open and he’s peeking at it over your shoulder “woah you wrote all of this?” you honestly didn’t think that it was a lot not enough knowledge so it wasn’t a lot. Nami comes and looks as well “Wow it really is a lot is that why your always up at night writing?” You start to feel a little bit on the spot which it doesn’t really matter that its you its just the subject “Yea but I could write more i dont feel like it’s enough” Zoro thinks to himself ‘what will be enough for her’ “Why it’s it not enough you write like your running out of time”…………

Part 2 coming soon ( i couldn’t finish my stomach hurts and it feels like i have the throw up)(update i threw up and i’m sick ass hell)

[teopatra]

✨ pick a number reading✨

Hola, me llamo es T’Asia I go by Teopatra. Grand water trine babe, lifepath 8 & Scorpio stellium. I’m a Leo sun and was sick for my bday so I wasn’t able to embody the Leo energy for my season sooooo, here I am now on the first day of Virgo season exercising my creative muscle lol

How do others feel about you?

(Can be platonic or romantic) feel free to pick more than one message

Enjoy xoxo 💋 teo ✨

Group # 1 :

you make people nervous or you get nervous when you realize someone is staring at you or has a crush on you and when you get nervous, it turns people on LOL people love to see you sweat because everyone looks at your reactions to things to compare how they feel, but you’re pretty attractive to a lot of people & may not even realize it some people wish they could cuddle/sleep next to you literally not in an intimate type of way just a romantic type of way or people could want to know what you look like when you sleep lol you give Angel baby vibes.

Pay attention to angel numbers 123 12:34 and 1:23, 😵‍💫 emoji or 📲 emojis

If you’re going thru your Saturn return , take note of your half birthday, also go back in your camera roll 6 months or to any November if any year and check your notes from 2020.

Signs: Pisces, cancer, libra, Capricorn or you know someone from that sign or nah dislike these signs

Group # 3 :

you have a warm nature and a nice looking physique I’m getting you don’t have the typical body whatever that means like you’re not a BBL IG figure you have a frame that makes people want to hug you or be near you because your energy is comforting. Someone or there’s a few people who have crushes on you and a small group of people may talk about how you look good and they be may be super nice to you and you kind of find it weird then it dawned on you 😂 that they like you people always want to touch your hands or share a pencil is what 😆.

Pay attention to angel numbers 333 and 5:55, 6:56 and 1:27 or that could be your bday

Lifepath 8s, the 🐸 emoji or lots of butterflies

Aries , gemini, Taurus or lifepath 7’s check camera roll from January or February, Aquarius season is significant

Group # 8 :

Other, see you as they’re saving grace like just when I feel like giving up, you save the day and you make them realize there’s more to life than was keeping them down people want to know how to be confident like you and I want to learn from you, but they feel stupid for asking for help. You may be expressed expressive are open with your emotions. Why people may know you to cry and random situation even though you’re not sad and that makes them laugh or smile because you’re just so silly and funny and cute.

Emojis 🐄, ❤️‍🩹, and 📿🩸. Your school colors can be red or that’s your favorite color.

Lifepath 2 and 7. Signs can be Aquarius, Taurus, libra, Leo, Scorpio or Sagittarius or check where these are in your chart for more messages

Check camera roll for April, angel numbers 11:11 or double numbers and reflective numbers like 12:21, 22:10, 22:11, 21:12 or 636 / 636 can be your area code iykyk lol

[riagraie]

EOTE HEIGHT HEAD CANNONS FOR THE NINJA!!!!

Ok so a while ago I was doing my best to design Hanna and I eventually got sidetracked and made a whole ass height chart for the ninja. Note: the silhouettes I used for everyone except Hanna are traces and solid color fill ins of someone else's art. I forget who made it, but the only one that is mine is Hanna's.

To break it down:

Nya is Five feet Five inches, or 165.1 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. I didn't think Nya was super duper short but I didn't think she was super tall either so I made her just a bit above the average.

Jay is Five feet Eight inches, or 172.72 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. I made him shorter than the others bc I firmly believe he just is shorter. And yeah ik that 5'8" isn't short but more like the avg but I say he's short bc he's standing next to the others who are literal giants.

Hanna is Five feet Ten inches, or 177.8 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. She is a tall girl because of her Harmonizer (not human) genetics, plus her dad is also freakishly tall so girlie got the tall genes.

Kai is Five feet Eleven inches, or 180.34 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. I also feel like Kai is the type to say he's 6ft tall even if he's an inch shorter just because he wants to.

Lloyd is Six feet One inch, or 185.42 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. Yes ik the fandom says Lloyd is short bc of the tomorrows tea thing in Childs Play s2, but tbh, bro is literally part Oni and Dragon. Those sons of bitches are hella tall. So respectfully, fuck anyone who hates me for making him tall.

Zane is Six feet Two inches, or 187.96 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. He's a nindroid. That's all I have to say.

Cole is Six feet Four inches, or 193.04 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. I am with the fandoms head cannon of Cole being a big guy, it's clear from the show he's the oldest (technically) and that he has natural super strength. Plus in s8 when we see how Wu found Cole prior to the Pilot Episodes bro already had a six pack WITHOUT training. And then the beach type episode in s2 bro had an 8 pack and continued to have one through the entire show basically. So, my Cole is a buff as fuck giant of a dude who looks like he could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll.

Oh, and there's some extras for the side characters below. Slight spoiler warning.

I'll probably do a part two of the Height Head Cannons which includes the characters from Dragons Rising. Send me asks or comment/repost this to ask me to give my HC for any characters I missed :D

PIXAL is Five feet Nine inches, or 175.26 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. I just feel like Borg made her tall but not too tall.

Wu is Six feet on the dot as an old man, or 182.88 centimeters. But in his prime, like the adult Wu we saw in s9 (Hunted) was Six feet Three inches, or 190.5 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. Idk why I chose this specifically, I just did.

Misako is Five feet Five inches, or 165.1 centimeters like Nya. I just like this head cannon. Idk why.

Garmadon is tricky:

Sensei Garmadon(Old Garm from s3 &s4 plus a little bit from s5) was Six feet Two inches or 187.96 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. He doesn't hunch as much as Wu does in my mind, so he's Zane's height.

Lord Garmadon from the Pilot Episodes was Six feet Four inches, or 193.04 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. He grew some in his transformation from human to partial Oni but not much.

Lord Garmadon from s1 and s2 was Six feet Seven inches, or 198.12 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. He grows so much because he gained two arms and shifted into mostly Oni. I say mostly Oni because it's my HC that Garm didn't have only the Oni genes being expressed until Harumi resurrected only that side of him.

Emperor Garmadon from s8 and afterwards was Seven feet Five inches, or 226.06 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. This is his Oni expression height, but not the height of his Oni form.

Oni Form Garmadon from both S10 and s16 is Nine feet Four inches, or 284.48 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. Ik Oni height, according to Mythology can range from 8 to 14 feet (243.84cm to 426.72cm) and I would've made Garm taller but you also have to remember his Oni genes are mixed with Dragon and Human. Oni Garm's horns are eight inches tall, making him Ten feet on the dot or 304.8 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units.

Oh and, Adult Human Garmadon was Six feet Five inches, or 195.58 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units.

That's all for Garmadon lmao.

I'm saying Harumi was Five feet Seven inches, or 170.18 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. I'm saying this is her height in s8, s9, and s16 bc she and Hanna get into a fight where Hanna quote, "Towered over the ex-girlfriend causing her to feel chills of intimidation crawl down her spine." Lol. Hanna's scary.

Lloyd's Oni Form is Nine feet Two inches, or 279.4 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. Again, would've made him taller but the show so obviously has it to where Lloyds otherworldly genes mostly expressed are his Dragon heritage, not his Oni side bc he stuffs it down. This height is only to his head, his horns add another foot making him Ten feet Two inches, or 309.88 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units.

Hanna's Harmonizer form is Seven feet Six inches, or 228.6 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units. I'll drop Harmonizer lore at some point that helps explain this. Her antlers/horns give her another five inches making her Seven feet Eleven inches, or 241.3 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units.

ANNNDDDF FOR THE EXTRA SIDE CHARACTERS:

Vinny from NGTV news is Five feet Ten Inches, or 177.8 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units.

Gayle from NGTV news is Five feet Four inches, or 162.56 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units.

Dareth is Five feet Ten inches, or 177.8 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units.

Ronin is Six feet Two inches, or 187.96 centimeters for those who don't use freedom units.

[b4bybunz]

Kinktober Night 2: Age Gap

“Count Me Out”

Leorio Paradinight X Older!Fem Reader

Content Warnings !!!

Age Gap, Dominant male, semi-public, spanking, playful flirting turned into more, on the desk, oral [f] receiving, multiple reader orgasms,, coworkers,, mentions of age, “work wife” and “work husband”

Word Count: 1.7k words

A/N: Leorio is 24 in this. Also y/n is not widowed, she’s divorced. Also I understand that I’m uploading this around 1:00am.

Enjoy my hearts!!! <333

“Good morning!” You greeted your attractive coworker as you walked towards your private office.

Leorio’s ears perked up before sliding his computer chair out of his cubicle.

“Good morning, beautiful!” Leorio leans his chair back as he watches you walk to your office. His eyes couldn’t stop watching the way your hips moved as you walked wearing that tight pencil skirt and that blouse he bought you as a promotion gift. He knew where he’d be when he finally got to go on his break, and hopefully that was in between your legs.

As he sat at his desk he tried to focus on getting his work done as best as he could, but all he could think of was you. You'd always tell him “You’re just a baby.” whenever he’d hint to taking you out for a date, granted you were 8 years his senior but he was just as grown as you were. At least that’s how Leorio feels. He just had to prove it to you.

You were doing your job which was filling out charts and paperwork as usual when you heard knocking. From the knock alone you knew it was Leorio.

“Come in, Leorio.” You told him.

“I’m on lunch.” He told you as he took the seat that was in front of your desk and placed it right next to yours.

“I know you are, I made the schedule.” You roll your eyes at him.

“Right.” He chuckled as he sat down. He leaned over and gave you a kiss on the cheek like he did everyday.

“I did good picking this blouse right?” He asked, looking you up and down slowly, and stopped at your breasts.

“You did, it’s a nice color and material.” You looked at him and his eyes stared up into yours. “Why are your numbers so low today?” You ask sternly.

“Hm?” He grabs your hand and kisses it.

“Don’t ‘hm’ me.” You pull your hand away.

“I was distracted.” Leorio pulls your hand back to him, taking off your wedding ring that your ex-husband gave you. “Why do you still wear that?” He asks.

“I’m asking the questions here.” You pull your hand back. “What’s distracting you?”

“You.” He gives you a serious look and pulls your chair towards him.

“Be serious.” You laugh.

“I am serious.” He leans in before you put your hand on his chest to stop him.

“You play too much.” You slightly push him and turn your attention back to your work.

Leorio’s eyes don’t move from yours even though you’re turned away.

“You always count me out. Why?” He says with a sense of seriousness in his voice.

“Hm?” You don’t look at him.

“Every time you go on a date you tell me how shitty they treat you and whenever I tell you I’m here you laugh in my face. Why?”

“Because you’re young.” You tell him.

“Bullshit. Every time you look at me I can see that you feel the same way I do, not just me but everyone in this office. You’re just scared that I could be the best thing for you, and the fact that I want to be the best thing for you.” He turns your chair to face him.

You locked eyes with him and you could see a sense of passion in them. Everything he said was true, there was no doubt you were attracted to him. Not only was he physically attractive but the way he treated you turned you on. You’d just been waiting for him to finally put his foot down and be a man about how he’s been feeling.

“Why are you grinning?” He asked.

“Because I’ve been waiting for this moment.” You grin and put your hands on his cheeks.

“Oh you have?” He smiles leaning in some more.

“Mhm.” You nod looking at his lips before finally planting a kiss on them.

Leorio’s hands gripped your waist and rubbed up and down it as you kissed passionately. His lips felt soft on yours as his hands roamed your body before one gripped your throat. He stood you up and sat you on the desk where he could feel your body closer to his. He was right where he hoped to be, which was in between your legs.

“How much time do I have?” He asked.

“Who cares?” You say and pull him by his collar to keep kissing you. It’d been nearly a year since you’ve had any romantic contact, so you needed this.

“You’re right.” He says as he starts kissing down your neck and unbuttoning your blouse.

“Mm~” you let out a lewd noise when he kissed a certain spot on your neck.

The longer he kissed you the larger the tent grew in his pants, but he didn’t want to be selfish. He wanted to take his time and savor this moment. Leorio bunched your skirt up to your waist before feeling how soaked your panties were.

“All wet for me? I thought you didn’t like younger men, baby what happened?” He smirked before putting your panties to the side.

“Shut uh-ah~” You cover your mouth as his long fingers enter your cunt. A sticky mess waiting to be cleaned by Leorio.

Leorio pulled up the chair and began licking your mess clean. He started lapping his tongue on the opening of your cunt licking up all the juices that were dripping out of you. Then licking up and down your pussy flicking your clit in the process. Every lick on your clit made your hips buck for more. He sucked, slurped, and licked all over your pussy. You never would’ve thought he’d be this nasty. Spitting on your clit then sucking it once more drove you crazy. You were unable to stay still with how close you were. Papers and trinkets dropping off of the table and onto the floor.

“I’m gonna come.” You moan quietly.

“Hm?” He smirked, pretending to not hear you.

“You heard me.” You say quietly.

“I didn’t hear anything.” He laughed watching your back arch from his tongue on your clit.

You chewed at your lip trying to stifle your moans as best as you could. His tongue flicked your clit with a swiftness until you’re coming on his tongue and pushing his head away. Leorio stared at the way your legs twitched as he licked the taste of you off his lips.

“You think you can handle more?” He teased you as he stood up. You could see his bulge staring right at you.

“Of course.” You roll your eyes as your legs still twitch.

“‘Of course.’” He mocked as he spread your legs right back open, pulling you to the edge of the desk. He unbuckled his belt and pulled his pants down just enough for his dick to spring out.

“You got a condom, or are you grown enough to pull out?” You tease him.

“Still questioning me after I made your legs shake from my tongue? Bold.” He says.

He taps his dick against your sensitive clit before sliding in slowly. Feeling the warmth and wetness of your pussy nearly sent him over the edge.

“You feel so good already.” He says quietly as his hips begin thrusting slowly.

His dick made you feel so full, it was almost like you couldn’t breathe when he was fully inside of you. You could barely hold back your low moans, especially when he found his rhythm. Leorio’s hips smacking yours as he held the back of your neck with one hand and the front of your desk with the other. Your hands clawed at his shirt trying to grasp onto his waist as his forehead was against yours. The moment felt so intimate that you nearly forgot where you were until the telephone rang. You turned your head towards the phone, and he turned you back towards him kissing you passionately.

“Fuck the phone, and just fuck me.” He said as he kissed you. His arms lifted your legs and picked you up off of the desk slightly as he started fucking up into you.

“Fuck~” You gasp feeling him deep in your walls fucking up into you faster. Clap after clap filled the room. He was fucking you so crazy that he knocked your stilettos off of your feet. You were trying not to moan loud so you buried your face in his shirt getting your mascara all over it.

“I’m gonna…oh my gosh~” Your heart starts racing as he keeps fucking up into you with ease. Your pussy clenching around him letting him know that you were close.

“Cum all over this fucking dick.” He grunted in your ear as he slowed down, focusing on thrusting his dick hard into you.

“Ah~” you moan and bite your lip. You start whimpering as he’s fucking you slow and hard. Fucking right into your g-spot and you couldn’t do anything but take it.

“That’s right, take it. It’s all yours.” He grunts fucking you in the desk again. Thrusting so hard that the desk moved slightly each time. Your pussy squelches with each movement as you whimper and hold onto him for dear life. You felt a knot in your lower stomach knowing that you were close. Your pussy clenching onto him, sucking him in. He could tell from how you struggled to breathe and the way your back arched that you were close.

“I’m coming~” you repeat in his ear as the knot in your stomach comes undone. He’s thrusting faster making you ride out your orgasm.

“Fuck~” you cry out shakily as he slows down.

“I got you, shhhh.” He kisses your lips trying to quiet down your whimpers.

You don’t think you’d come that hard in your life, maybe he was the best thing for you. You wince as he pulls out slowly, still kissing your cheek and neck.

“So, what are we now?” He asks.

“Leorio, please.” You roll your eyes, still out of breath.