#GUYS IM RUNNING OUT OF SHELF SPACE

[nightfallsystem]

evilly laughing while tracking my package

[starry-bi-sky]

nobody is safe hahaha! trust me if i had the spoons for it i'd be replying to everyone's tags, i am delighted to reply to them

#I really like your description of a Fully Ghost Danny#I think it fits him

character design is my favorite thing ever. the outfits themselves im not too good at sometimes, but the physical appearances are like. my favorite thing ever. Coming up with Fem Danyal's design was a treat. I put a claw at the end of her braid and turned her hair into a rope dart, it was fantastic.

Danny's ghost being permanently 14 is so tragic to me, but the ide of his ghost form fluctuating between ages only ust hit me as I was writing it and I thought it'd be neat as fuck ldshf. What age he appears at varies by a lot of different things including but not limited to his mood and attention.

#I also love the whole ‘making his first death more tragic by making him younger when it happened’ thing#it always makes reveals that much more tragic and I am HERE for it

FAIR. I'll be frank I did it here just so that I could have Danny meet Bruce when he was 14/13 and give them more family bonding time, but I fr wanna make more aus where his first death happens when he's a little younger. I forgot that it was just a thing I could just do if I wanted, and its reminded me my Mockingbird Au from when I was still active in Maribat.

And its so tragic! and uncomfortable for the people around Phantom! I'm just imagining little 11-12yr old phantom in a hazmat suit that's clearly meant for someone bigger than him, some of it slightly shrunk to fit better. Maybe there's some tragic reasoning behind it like the heat of the portal melted the suit a little bit so it fits danny a little better but is still visibly too big.

(Aw maybe when he's really upset his suit start to get all melty? I've thought a lot about the more horrific aspect of being basically cooked alive in between the doorway of two dimensions. I have this image of the arms become charred and skeletal like when he uses too much of his powers. The sleeves of his suit melting off and onto his skin in plastic chunks to reveal black-charred skeletal arms and hands underneath. I'll spare details on what I think his face looks like, except for the idea that he loses an eye and can roll the remaining one between sockets)

And he's got these long, slightly droopy elf ears that look slightly too big for him, highlighting just how young he is. They move too, pricking up when he hears something, pinning back when he feels a certain emotion. And of course the standard cosmetic changes like the glowing catlike green eyes and fluffy white hair that flicker and moves like an aurora borealis at the tips. And of course, the glowing star freckles.

Overall, him just blatantly looking like a child. It's a constant punch in the gut that this honest to god dead kid is the one protecting the city from harm.

#I also love that even though this is a ‘bad’ ending it still leaves us with a more bittersweet feeling than a depressing one

its about the clossuuurrreee.

#I wonder how the batfam would react to his age fluctuating tho#and how he was already halfway dead long before he fully died

confusion and heartbreak! someone would ask and danny gets all sheepish. he weighs his pros and cons and then reveals his Tragic Backstory™ and the Accident that turned him into a halfa. He explains he used to be a hero in his hometown, and that his godfather -- the one that poisoned him -- was his arch-nemesis.

Which, everyone just listens to with intent horror. It's like listening to a tragedy after its already long passed. A child hero -- first killed by his parents' irresponsibility -- murdered by his arch-nemesis, who happened to also be his godfather. He didn't have anyone to keep him safe; he was completely alone.

What's even worse is when Danny tells them that Vlad didn't even intend for Danny to die -- he poisoned him as a control tactic, but didn't think Danny would actually run away.

the guilt is thick in the air.

#I wonder if there would be a way for him to visit them/for them to visit him after the heroes get back to the living realm#like#maybe after the first incident some of the heroes get thrown back into the Infinite Realms#I’m not saying that it would be often#but it would definitely cause some angst and hijinks

i was thinking about this! I think it'd be kinda sweet. Danny doesn't stick around often, but Gotham has a few areas where the veil between the zone and the living world thins out. Once he learns where these shortcuts are, he occasionally pops by to say hi. Usually its only for a few minutes, and only if patrol is slow.

Occasionally he'll start showing up to specific world-ending threats, or if somehow a ghost slips through to the living realm he'll follow right after to curbstomp their ass back to it. Very specific mental image of this teeny 12 year old with stars in his hair cheerfully German Supplexing some Ares-wannabe ghost into the fucking pavement, before turning to the Justice League and saying "Hey guys! Don't worry, I've got this!"

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[mooodyblue]

Can you write something about little reader? I just bought myself a new stuff animal and I bought it when I felt little but now that I'm big I'm trying to convince myself I didn't need it. I feel like elvis wouldn't let me convince myself of that

ty for the request! u enjoy that plushie !! u don't have to be little to enjoy plushies that's for sure ❤️

pairing: cg!elvis x gn!little!reader

wc: 841

➸ masterlist

it was one of those weeks where you just wanted to curl up in bed and hide away, hug a plushie and cry. you didn't want to call your boyfriend or anyone, just you and your fuzzy friends alone.

unfortunately, you couldn't do that. you knew it wouldn't be healthy to isolate yourself so you coped in a way you knew best—buying yourself a little something to cheer yourself up. you’d been feeling awfully small lately, but had been masking it quite well to so your big activities, although you did come home and occasionally slip a paci in your mouth to calm yourself down.

you were still feeling little when you walked into the store, putting on a brave face as you looked around to find something to treat yourself to. a snack? juice? maybe a coloring book or a toy.

but then you locked eyes with a large panda bear sitting lazily on the top shelf. your eyes widened, staring at it in awe. without a second thought—you picked it up, tossing it over your shoulder and hurled it to the cashier to buy it. you deserved it, you had a bad week so it's okay to splurge every once in awhile.

until a few hours later when you weren't feeling so little anymore. the guilt of spending money on something you clearly didn't need was eating you alive as it sat in your living room, taking up space.

you were with elvis, catching up on his tour antics as he had just returned from a week run. it was good to have his presence back in your life, it was much needed. but as he was talking, he couldn't help but lock eyes with the big panda bear behind you, chuckling softly. “now who's that guy?” he asked, pointing at it.

you turned around, blushing at the bear and shaking your head as you turned back to elvis. “ah…i-i kinda thought it when i was…you know.” you replied shyly, “i might take it back.”

“what?!” elvis gasped, “why in the world would you return it?”

you couldn't hide the look of guilt on your face, sighing. “i don't know, elvis…i just…i don't really need it, do i? i’ve got enough, you're always buying me plushies too—”

“baby, c'mon.” he stopped you from finishing your sentence. “tell me somethin’...” he sat up a bit, looking at you sternly. “did you feel happy when you bought him?”

“w-well…yes. i was excited to bring him home.” you nodded.

“how do you feel about him right now?”

the panda bear just sat on a lounge chair, the fuzzy animal just staring into space. you frowned looking at it, “guilty because it was a waste of money.”

elvis let out a hmph and shook his head, “what about when you're feelin’ tiny?”

your eyes lit up a bit, “i like looking at him. he’s fuzzy and i like that he's big. he's soft and i can rest my head on him when im watching cartoons or i can rest on him when i’m coloring….he's fun to hug.”

he grinned widely, “see, baby. it ain't no waste. it makes little you happy. anyway, plushies are for everyone, ain't that right?”

you scoffed. “elvis, you know that's not true.”

“baby, i slept with the same damn teddy bear my whole life. if i ain't huggin' you in bed, i sure as hell ain’t huggin' no pillow—stuffed animals are more fun to hug.” he laughed. “ya know how many people on this earth are probably grown and sleepin’ with a lil’ bear or-or stuffed elephant by their side? it ain't just you.”

he had a point. you had friends who slept with plushies too. there were collectible plushies too, what makes you having a random panda bear any different? it makes you happy, it made you happy when you bought it—what makes it any different now?

before you could open your mouth, elvis took the bear into his lap, hiding himself behind it as he moved it’s tiny arms. “please don't take me back!” he spoke in a deeper voice, voicing the panda. “it’ll break my big ol’ heart!”

you giggled softly, “elvis!”

“i ain't elvis!” he spoke, moving the arms, “you takin’ me back? huh? or are we gonna have a problem?”

the sight of elvis’s face peeking from behind the bear raising an eyebrow made you laugh even more, “okay! okay! i won't take you back. i don't wanna make you sad!”

elvis crept from behind the bear, “ya hear that! you get to stay!” he said excitedly, “now give 'im a big hug, baby. he deserves it.”

you hugged the plushie, bringing it to to your lap and keeping a tight hold to it.

“okay, that's enough. my turn.” elvis opened his arms, taking pride in convincing you to keep the bear.

you giggled and shook your head, gripping to the plushie tighter.

he gasped dramatically, putting his hand on his hips. now he was really regretting letting you keep that bear.

[bullet-prooflove]

No Words - Filip 'Chibs' Telford x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @lexondeck @anime-weeb-4-life @redpoodlern @ravencrow83 @kishie8 @nu1freakshow @oureternalbond @rubes2323 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @jtelford @the-wandering-lunatic @samanthaofanarchy @darqchilddaydreamz @yourwinchesterbros

It’s a slow fall, one that Chibs could never have prepared himself for even if he tried. He feels his fingers clawing at the edge of the cliff, he tries to fight it, he really does but it’s like trying to struggle against the tide, you can’t, so in the end he succumbs to it. He feels it every time he looks at you, the current dragging him deeper.

There are a thousand things he loves about you.

Your elegance, your charm, your perseverance in the face of adversity. A woman like you, in their world. You shouldn’t fit in amongst the ingrates, but you do. The respect cuts both ways. It should be as simple as taking the money and doing the work, but you’re not like the other lawyers the club has worked with. You take the time to build relationships with each and every one of them. Most of the guys trust you with their personal affairs. You’ve handled Bobby’s most recent divorce, Tig’s investment in Cara Cara, Juice’s weed shop. You’ve fought for them all in court, brokered deals, reduced charges, laughed in the face of prosecutors who have designs on shutting down the club.

You’re vicious, beautiful and damn right tenacious.

Chibs notices when the wedding ring disappears, the faded indentation on your left hand where a diamond used to sit. You don’t mention it to anyone in the club but there’s signs. Your sense of style changes, you become more eclectic, bolder patterns, brighter colours, fabrics that accentuate your figure instead of hiding it away. You favour different jewellery, it’s more edgy than delicate, beaten metal instead of gold and precious stones. When you change your hair, it takes everything in him not to run his fingers through those freshly trimmed locks when he compliments it.

He recognises freedom when he sees it. Whatever was keeping you prim and proper, locked away in that claustrophobic little cage is gone and you are thriving. You bloom like a flower, petals unfurling as if you’re feeling the sun on your face for the first time. It’s stunning to watch.

It’s late that night, you’re seated at his kitchen table sipping from one of his lowball glasses. He’s filled it halfway with top shelf whisky imported straight from one of the distilleries in Scotland. You’re going through the most recent version of his will with him. He’s known since that last visit to Ireland, that things between him and Fiona were never going to be the way they were. She may be free from Jimmy, but his wife is dedicated to the cause, it will always be her first love. Fiona’s not holding out for him and he’s not holding out for her, they exist on two different continents, two separate spaces. He can never go back to that life, and she can never step into his.  He will always love the mother of his child but not in the way he loves you.

However, he wants to make sure that both her and Kerrianne are taken care of if something were to happen to him. He has assets, cash in a safety deposit box, some of his mother’s old jewellery, items that have been passed down through the generations. He wants to make sure they end up in the right place.

The two of you are sitting close together, his arm resting on the back of your chair as he studies the documentation in front of him. He taps the pen on the surface of the table as he reads, checking everything off in his head. Once he’s satisfied, he scrawls his signature at the bottom before setting it down and tilting his head to look at you.

“I’ll file it first thing in the morning.” You tell him, leaning in just a little to reach for your pen.

It’s your scent that catches him off guard, that and the proximity of your body. The perfume you’re wearing it’s dark and sensuous, something subtle and honied, he breathes it in and it floods his veins like a narcotic. The silk of your blouse brushes across the cotton of his shirt with a slight rustle and he feels the heat from your body grace his skin.

You look up and that’s the moment that everything changes, because he sees the desire in your eyes, the desperation, the need. He kisses you softly, nothing more than a brush of the lips but in that instant he’s lost.

There’s a moment when you step into the ocean that the current takes you, it snarls around your body, dragging you deeper, the waves crashing over your head until it forces you under. That’s what happens to Chibs in that moment, the tide fucking takes him, and he drowns.

He won’t survive this, he knows, but he can’t help himself.

You’re a force of nature and he’s simply a man adrift at sea.

He draws you into his lap, that pencil skirt of yours hitching higher up your thighs as he explores your mouth with slow, tender kisses that leave you whimpering. He can tell that it’s been a while since someone has loved you. It’s in the way you respond to his touches, that little sigh when he kisses your lower lip, the way your head tips back as his thumb chases along the line of your jaw, your thighs parting because you need to be as close as he does. He doesn’t know how you make it to the bedroom; he’s too wrapped up in the sensation of being with you.

It’s when he lays you down amongst his sheets that he pauses. He sees you lying there, the navy blue silk contrasting against your skin, buttons undone, revealing black lace. That silver necklace made of hammered metal sits against your collarbone like a chest piece. His fingertips run over it because by now he understands what it represents, beaten but never broken. If that doesn’t sear itself into an old Scot’s heart…

You watch as he removes the rings on his fingers, there’s a sensuality to it. His dark gaze sets firmly on yours as he takes them off one by own. You remove your own armour, that necklace, the matching bracelet on your wrist. There’s a catharsis in it. He takes them from your hands, setting them down gently on the nightstand alongside his own precious pieces.

He underdresses you in the dark, flashes of moonlight from the open highlighting your skin. You don’t speak and neither does he, there’s an affinity in the silence.

You breathe his name when he enters you, it flows like a prayer from your lips. He moves in slow strokes, prolonging the pleasure until you're flushed and wanton, a wreck amongst his sage green sheets. His hand caresses your jaw, guiding your gaze back to his as he makes love to you in a bed that’s never known it. He wants you to see what you do to him, that you’ve stolen away his heart, that you’re gradually stealing his sanity. He kisses you when you come around his cock, drinking down your moans as he cradles your head in his hand, his own release spilling into you.

In the aftermath he watches you dress, his back against the headboard, the sheets pooling around his hips as your fingers draw up the zipper of your pencil skirt. There are no words to describe what just happened, there’s nothing that needs to be said. You’re both still raw from your past, there’s no space to discuss a future.

It’s only after you leave that he realises you’ve left your jewellery on the nightstand. Your necklace and bracelet, his rings. They look like they belong together, a jumble of forged metal, worn in the heat of battle.

He smiles to himself, his fingertip tracing over the indents made in the hammered metal.

At least now you have a reason to come back.

Love Chibs? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[spaceagebachelormann]

im back hehehehehe could i get some headcanons of like. dating mischa. or ricky- either one- i <3 them sm

dating mischa and ricky

pairings: ricky potts x gn reader, mischa bachinski x gn reader

warnings: mentions of the rollercoaster disaster

a/n: i’ll give you both because ily liz <3

masterlist

Ricky Potts

okay so

UHHHH

he’s really sweet!!

100% randomly comes to your house and signs something like “wanna go stargazing”

you WILL say yes.

when you’re stargazing he doesn’t actually look at the other stars, because his star is beside him <3

you best believe his cats love you

they love you more than they love him

sometimes they just walk straight past him to get to you <3

i like to think he has a thing for noses, so when he’s close enough he’ll just lean in and kiss it so gently <33 or poke it

i feel like he gets tired really easily and stays up until like 3am

and because he loves you and he feels comfortable with you he leans his head on your shoulder and falls asleep!!

during the cyclone disaster, my man was holding your hand so hard and trying to keep you (and himself) from falling out of the cart

long story short it didn’t work and you fell together

back to the sweet stuff!!

you know all of the zolar lore and characters and give him stickers for his crutches

between classes he runs (runs??? he gets to you as quickly as he can with his crutches) and hugs you so tight

calls you the most random things ever

turkey-chicken-leg, monkey-love-drop (ofc <3)

im sorry but he would have called you kitten at one point. joke or not he 100% would have once. someone had to say it

i do think he’d call you love though

he loves you!! so much!!

penny aka his bestie has had to listen to him talk about you for hours

he’s very clingy!! constantly touching you in some way or is always near you

lightly hits you with his crutches when you say something outta pocket or questionable

your parent(s) LOVE him

he has that “anything for you love! <3” mentality and your parent(s) can tell this!! they know hed do anything for you and it’s why they love him!!

omg binge watching movies that take place in space with him <3

he gets so absorbed into the plots and points out every little thing

he’s so cute

will CRY (happily ofc) if you learn sign language for him

oh!! you’d also have a way to communicate from across the room if you can’t speak directly

like you’ll be visibly uncomfortable or tense and he’ll give you a concerned look or something to ask if he needs to come over there

i think he would be really protective, glaring at anyone who makes you uncomfortable and sometimes protectively putting a crutch or arm in front of you

incorrect quote!!:

Ricky: you want some leftovers?

Y/N: what are leftovers

Ricky: you’ve never had leftovers?

Y/N: no, im not a quitter

Mischa Bachinski

dear lord

the most overprotective soul ever

has body slammed ocean for looking at you weirdly…

will fight someone for you

just ask

also has that “anything for you love! <3” mentality but it’s more aggressive like “ANYTHING for you, love.”

oh he definitely uses you as an armrest

i like the idea of him and his s/o having a mean/nice dynamic

he’s mean to literally everyone except you

he’s also the type to put things on a shelf you can’t reach just so you have to ask him for help

sometimes he just picks you up in the middle of class and runs away while the teacher is screaming at you guys to come back

only listens to you

ocean: mischa no!! | mischa: mischa yes!! | y/n: mischa no | mischa: mischa no.

writes autotuned songs about you

okay but like imagine being his sweet sunshine s/o and one day someone pisses you off enough that you actually yell at them and he’s standing there with his jaw dropped and eyes widened

whispers over to noel “i love them.”

noel whispers back “i know.”

randomlt shows up at your house

if he can’t get in through the front door he scarily climbs through your window

SLEEPOVERS ARE A MUST!!

secretly the little spoon when you cuddle during sleepovers but don’t tell anyone

smiles into your neck, but pretends he doesn’t even though he knows you can feel it <3

it someone talks smack about you

well….

they mysteriously disappear that night

and when they come back they don’t even look in your direction again

he’s actually very sweet with you!!

holding your hand, cupping your face, whispering sweet little nothings in your ear <3

brings you alcohol on your birthday…

incorrect quote:

Mischa: *kicks the door down looking panicked*

Y/N: what did you do?

Mischa: nobody died

Y/N: WHAT KIND OF ANSWER IS THAT???

[witchersmistress]

Snooping and Library Sex 2.0

Hello my Darlings! Im in decisive af so i have here another version of Snooping, i changed the characters around and added some details but its basically the same.

Trigger Warnings: rough sex, orgasm denial, destruction of books, back sassying

Word count: 4K

as usual my darlings, you do not have my permission to copy, translate or use my work in anyway. if you do i will haunt you for the rest of your days k?

I can feel the angry energy roiling under my skin after my encounter with Napoleon, all the sated, relaxed feeling from the self induced orgasms is nothing but a distant memory already. I’m on edge and pissed off, and I hate it.

It’s like the ground is shifting out from beneath me, like I can’t find solid footing anywhere, and that unbalanced sensation makes me want to lash out. It would make the most sense to go up to my room and hide out until I feel better, but for some reason, I don’t want to do that. Being idle sounds shitty, so after depositing my shit upstairs, I stalk around the house instead, feeling defiant. So far, I haven’t poked around their space too much. I go from the room they gave me to the kitchen and sometimes to the living room, but not really beyond that. Now I don’t stop myself from doing what I want, striding from room to room as if the whole house is my personal domain.

 I yank open a door down a corridor off the main entryway and find a well-kept baby grand piano inside. I roll my eyes at the fucking luxury these assholes clearly live in and look the instrument over. One of them must play. Even though they have so much nice shit, it would be stupid to have a whole-ass piano in here if it didn’t get used. Which one is it, I wonder? Staring at it doesn’t yield any answers, so I march back out, closing the door behind me. Another couple of doors just lead to closets, and I bypass them, not caring enough to rifle through coats and boxes and shit. But the next door I try reveals a small library. That’s the only good word for the room full of books. There are shelves lining three of the walls, and an armchair with a small end table beside it tucked into a corner. It looks like the kind of place that gets a lot of use, which is surprising as hell since none of the guys seem like the intellectual types. Just the thought of Napoleon or Syverson sitting in that chair with a cup of tea and a thick book is almost enough to make me laugh. It’s a toss-up with Napoleon, and August could go either way too. There’s a set of encyclopedias on one of the shelves, and I roll my eyes because apparently we’re back in the dark ages or some shit.

 I move on from those and find a stretch of classic books. The titles stand out in gold on the spines, things like The Works of Edgar Allan Poe, The Prince, The Odyssey, and The Iliad. Books like they make you read in high school, full of shit you’ll never care about again. I take a couple off the shelves and check them out, running my hands over the smooth leather of the covers and the embossed letters of the titles. I flip through one, The Odyssey, and am surprised to see little notes in the margins. Whole passages have been underlined, and the handwriting is cramped off to the side, but I can just make some of it out. I don’t know anything about books, but reading the stuff in the margins feels like getting a peek into someone’s soul. Whoever wrote these notes had a soul full of rage and pain, and they were connected with the pain felt by the characters in the books. Each book I pull off the shelf to look through is like that, with little notes off to the side and underlined parts. Some words are circled, others crossed out. It’s like whoever did it dedicated themselves to reading each book and finding the parts that either pissed them off or resonated with them the most. I’m putting a few of them back and reaching for another one when someone steps into the room. “What the fuck are you doing?” a deep voice intones behind me. August. And he’s pissed. As usual. I turn around to look at him, and something in the way his face looks so guarded and angry makes me pretty damn sure these books are his. I’m still on edge, feeling exposed from what happened with Napoleon. I hate that 2these men have gotten under my skin. That was never supposed to be part of the plan. I was just supposed to fuck with them, not let them fuck with me back. “Just exploring,” I tell him, shrugging. “Seeing what there is to see in here. Found these books.” “You shouldn’t go poking around in other people’s shit,” he snaps, his broad frame looming in the doorway. I shrug. “It was all just here, so I figured, why not? They’re yours, aren’t they? Or at least, you’re the one who wrote these things in them.” His jade eyes flash with irritation, and I know I’m right. He wouldn’t care so much if they weren’t his and he wasn’t the one who’d gone through all the trouble to make these notes. “So what’s all this about, then?” I ask, flipping open one of the books to a random page. It’s got so many notes on it I can barely make them all out, and I lift an eyebrow. “There’s some heavy stuff in here. One of the characters is talking about… I don’t even know what. The suffering they’re going through. And then you wrote a whole tiny little paragraph about how they don’t even know what true suffering is.” “Stop it,” he grits out, a warning in each syllable. I don’t stop, though. Because this feels good. More addictive than any drug. I want to poke at him, want to get under his skin the way they’ve all gotten under mine. “This part right here about the ‘darkness that you can’t escape’ is pretty poetic,” I say with a little smirk. “Maybe you’re in the wrong business. You should stop abducting women from alleys and take up writing full time.

 It seems like you’d have a lot to pull from for inspiration, judging from what you wrote here.” That seems to be the last straw. August moves forward, marching up to me and yanking the book out of my hand. He crowds into my space, pressing me up against the shelf until the wooden ridges of it dig into my back. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” he hisses. “So you should shut your mouth.” He’s so close, but I don’t back down. “Maybe I don’t want to. Maybe I want to know more. Maybe I want to figure out what makes you work, August. How you ended up the way you are.” “That wasn’t the deal,” he snaps. “Fuck the deal,” I reply. “I’m guessing you used to live in that shithole apartment building you took me to.” “What?” “I’m not an idiot. You knew it way too well for it to be somewhere new to you, or somewhere you only go when you need information. Plus, Meredith talked to you like she cared. That shit takes time. what's up with that?”

“None of your fucking business.” I can feel the rage pouring off him, but I don’t back down. He’s not going to hurt me—that wouldn’t be in his best interests, considering he needs me alive to kill Ivan—and if he did try to, I could just hurt him back. So all he can really do is stand there while I push his buttons, getting more and more pissed off with no real outlet for it. It feels good to be on the instigating end, finally, to be the one doing the pushing instead of getting pushed. And I keep riding the waves of that, leaning into August and not letting him get away with his non-answers. “What was it like?” I press. “Living there? How old were you? Young?” “Shut up.” His expression closes down some, fury blurring out any other emotion. He’s uncomfortable, but relying on anger to get through it is a tried-and-true method. I know that well myself. “Why don’t you want to talk about it? You took me there, so it’s not like I don’t know.” “That was for a purpose,” he spits. “Not for you to go digging around in my life.” “Oh, it sucks when the shoe’s on the other foot, huh?” I shoot back. “Maybe I don’t want to let you off the hook that easily.” “Maybe I don’t give a fuck what you want.” “Well, that’s obvious. If you did, I wouldn’t be here. You’re holding me hostage in your fucking house, and you won’t even give me anything entertaining to keep myself occupied. Tell me why these books.” “I’m not telling you anything!” The words rip out of him, and there’s pure rage behind them. His eyes are snapping with it, and he’s practically growling at me. “Just a little hint?” I ask, putting on a pleading face. “Small one? Were you some kind of nerd in school? You don’t seem like the type.” Before I can get out another taunt, he grabs my upper arms in a tight grip. I can feel the strength and anger in the press of his fingers, and I know I’ll have marks there later. I half expect him to shove me forcibly out of the room, but instead, he drops his head and crushes his mouth to mine, kissing me hard enough to bruise.

August kisses me hard, biting down on my lower lip and dragging it into his mouth to suck on it before releasing it with a loud pop. A little noise of frustrated pleasure spills from my mouth, and I grab his shirt, hauling him back in for more. He doesn’t resist, devouring my mouth with his, hot and slick and messy. It’s the same thing I did with Napoleon earlier, kissing him to get him to shut up and stop saying shit I didn’t want to hear. I know that’s what he’s doing right now. But somehow, I don’t care. His hands roam over my shoulders and down my arms, finding their way around to fit in between my back and the bookshelf I’m still pressed against. He manages to grab twin handfuls of my ass, groping me hard, and I moan into his mouth all over again. I can’t control my reaction to it, and I don’t even try that hard, really. It’s all happening too fast. All the anger and hate between us is coming out as this hot, intense sexual desire, and I feel like it would burn me up if I tried to ignore it. I can feel how hard August is as he presses forward, grinding into me. I press back against him, rubbing against the hardness of his body. With a little growl of desire, his mouth moves from mine down to my jaw, leaving biting, open-mouthed kisses as he blazes a trail to my neck.

 I gasp when he bites at just the right spot, arching against him and tipping my head back. That seems to give him an idea, and one hand releases my ass to fist in my hair, yanking it enough to one side that he has complete access to my neck. His mouth is hot and wet, and it feels like it’s everywhere as he kisses me, my body responding eagerly to his touch no matter what my mind might think about him. My nipples go hard and tight, and my pussy throbs with need. It still feels too empty from when Napoleon rejected me, and it’s almost like it can sense that there’s a chance to fix that right now. “Fuck,” I groan, pulling against August’s hold on my hair just to feel the sharp pain that comes from the resistance. He doesn’t say anything, releasing my hair after a moment and letting the silvery strands fall over my shoulders as his hands start roaming again. They find my nipples, and he pinches and tweaks them through my shirt at first before sliding his hands under the fabric and shoving my bra out of the way. His mouth trails down lower, and he presses those hot, feverish kisses along the skin of my chest and my tits, tugging down the neckline of my shirt until he finds one nipple and takes it between his teeth, biting down and none too gently.

 I cry out at the sharp sting of it, squirming against the shelves while he practically feasts on my tits, leaving even more biting kisses in his wake. Pinned in place, it’s all I can do to stay upright against the shelves, letting him run his mouth over my skin and my nipples. My pussy is wet again, so desperate to be touched or filled or something, and I grind even harder against him, searching for the friction to take the edge off. August finally looks up again, and his jade green eyes are dark now. There’s still anger there, but it’s being crowded out by the raw lust emanating from him. It’s a damn good look on him, and I reach up to grab ahold of the back of his neck, pulling him down so I can kiss him again. He grunts out something that might be a curse or might be my name, but I swallow the sound either way, shoving my tongue into his mouth and almost daring him to keep up with me. And he does. He kisses back with equal intensity, matching my pace until we’re both breathless. I’m the first one to pull back, needing to catch my breath while my head spins. August takes advantage of the moment and rips my shirt over my head, exposing my bare chest to the air of the room. He yanks my bra off, and I half expect him to go back to my tits, but instead, his hands go down lower, undoing the button and zipper on my jeans so he can drag them down. August’s already dark eyes turn almost black as he stares down at me. 

Without saying a thing, he drops to his knees in front of me and takes those kisses down to my pussy. He sucks and licks at it like it’s the best thing he’s tasted all year, his tongue working itself along my folds and circling my hole with precision. I can’t help the way I shiver at how it feels, the heat and pleasure of it shooting through me. I still feel sensitive from Napoleon making me fall apart so many times less than an hour ago, and August’s mouth on me feels amplified, as if every sensation is turned up to eleven. He’s messy with it, eating me out and making his face and my thighs slick with my arousal. I look down at him while he drags his tongue over me, breathing hard and still feeling spiteful. “You’re lapping up Napoleon’s cum, you know,” I taunt breathlessly. That’s enough to get him to jerk back, but he doesn’t seem disgusted or squeamish about it. Instead, his eyes are dark with anger again, and his face twists into a mask of fury. “You fucked Napoleon?” he demands. I can’t tell if he’s mad about me fucking Napoleon in general or me fucking Napoleon instead of him. I could easily lie and say that yeah, we fucked, but it bothers me for some reason that the answer is no. I was right there, mostly naked and still a mess from the rolling orgasms Napoleon gave me, and he didn’t want to finish what he fucking started. It sits sourly in my belly, the sting of rejection still present and irritating. So I refuse to answer August, just raising an eyebrow and shrugging one shoulder. Let him think whatever he wants about that.

 He narrows his eyes, a hard look coming over his face. Then he slaps my pussy hard with one hand. I jerk and moan in surprise, taken aback by the sudden harshness. When he does it again, harder, a flash of pain bursts through me before my clit starts to throb with need. “Fuck.” It’s basically the only thing I can think to say to express that it felt fucking good, but August doesn’t seem to need more than that. He dives back in, hands gripping my hips hard while he licks me with even more vicious determination than before. Even with the knowledge that he’s licking the remnants of Napoleon’s cum out of me, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t seem like he’s put off at all. It’s more like he wants to lick me clean or something, to overtake what Napoleon did to me and wipe it out of my memory.

And he’s fucking good at it, too. I don’t know where August falls on the spectrum of Syverson to Napoleon in terms of how often he likes to fuck, but he knows what he’s doing. His tongue curls along my clit, teasing it and working me up. I thread my fingers into his hair, holding on tight and rolling my hips as the sensation builds and builds and builds. I can feel my orgasm rising, threatening to overtake me. And then, when I’m right there on the edge, about to tip over into a fucking amazing orgasm, August stops and pulls back. “What the shit?” I gasp out, sounding hoarse and breathless. “I was close.” He doesn’t say anything, just gets up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. My legs are shaky, and I’m ready to be pissed off as hell if he thinks he’s going to walk away without getting me off after all that. But then he grabs me again and turns me around so I’m facing the bookshelves. He grabs my hands and braces them against the wood, moving me where he wants me. I should be pissed off. I am pissed off. But that’s not the only reason my heart is racing. He grabs my pants where they’re pooled around my ankles and pulls them up just enough that they wedge my thighs together, keeping my legs tightly closed so I can’t open them. Just how he wants me. I’m about to turn around and tell him to get the fuck on with it, when he drives into me hard enough to leave me breathless. Like this, with my legs pressed together, I’m even tighter than usual, and it’s like I can feel him everywhere, pressing against my walls, filling me up.

 August isn’t gentle with it either. He grabs my hips hard, fingers digging into my flesh as he fucks me even harder. His cock drives into me with punishing force, the sound of our skin slapping together ringing out in the room. I don’t bother to hold back my sounds of pleasure. I probably couldn’t even if I wanted to. Not with the way he’s fucking me hard and dirty, making sure that each thrust sends the whole length of his cock slamming into me, hitting that spot inside me that makes me cry out almost every time. Heat and electric sensation curl through me, radiating out from my center to spread into my whole body. I was already on edge before, from his mouth on me, and this is just another step closer to throwing me into an orgasm headfirst. I move my hand, ready to rub at my clit until I come from it all, but August growls behind me. He grabs my wrist and puts my hand back where it was, holding it down with almost bruising force. “No,” he pants. “You don’t get to touch yourself.” It flashes through my mind to tell him where he can shove his bossy bullshit, but then he slams into me so hard that it’s all I can do to stay upright. My heart is pounding almost as forcefully as the way he’s fucking me, bashing against my ribs and making it hard to catch a full breath. Books fall from the shelves around us as my tight grip on the bookshelf makes the whole thing shake. My back is arched, my eyes half closed. My whole body is on fire. I’m so close, right there on the edge, ready to tip over into that well of pleasure that’s been building steadily, but August doesn’t let me. He doesn’t give me that last little push I need. Instead, he starts fucking me more shallowly, letting his cock dip in and out of my pussy without driving all the way in. A noise of helpless frustration spills out of my mouth, and I ball my hands into fists against the wood of the shelf. August doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t even taunt me for being needy and desperate. He just keeps his hips moving, turning those shallow thrusts into long, slow ones that still don’t give me all that I need. He’s holding out for as long as he can, clearly, and it’s driving me fucking insane. I thrust my hips back, trying to take him to the hilt, trying to get more, and he just makes a low noise and digs his fingers in harder. 

Maybe it’s a warning, maybe it’s a reaction. I don’t know and I don’t fucking care. All I know is that if I don’t come, I’m going to go insane. My core throbs, spasming around his dick like it’s desperate to milk it dry once I’m allowed to come, and I whine low in my throat, feeling all that sensation keep building like it’s going to snap. Finally, he seems to be at the end of his tether. I can feel his hips stuttering, the stamina he’s been using to drive me nuts finally giving out. He reaches around and down and pinches my clit hard. The pain and stimulation are enough to set me off like a bomb, and I nearly scream, getting a hand up over my mouth in time to muffle it as I explode in pleasure. I can barely breathe, barely keep my body from shaking itself apart as I come, gushing on his cock and squeezing it hard. August follows me over the edge, letting out a low groan as he pumps me full of his release. I’m breathless, slumped against the shelves, trying to remember how to move or do anything. My body is still trembling from the force of my pleasure, and I nearly stagger when August pulls out and steps back. By the time I can turn around to look at him, he’s pulling his pants up and tucking his cock away. Even though I’m positive he was just as into that as I was, he looks more put together, since he’s dressed and not oozing cum the way I am. “Clean up the fucking books,” he says, back to that angry, flat tone. Then he turns and walks out, leaving me there with the mess. Whatever bliss I was feeling a second ago evaporates instantly on the heels of my anger, and I’m pissed off all over again. Not about fucking him, but about the fact that it feels like he’s won something. Like he’s the one who came out ahead and has the higher ground now, even though I’m the one who instigated the confrontation.

 He walked out like he was fine and nothing had changed, but I’m the one slumped against a shelf like I’ve lost my equilibrium. August definitely had the upper hand while we were fucking. I needed him at that moment, and I hate that more than anything. He practically had me begging, poised on the edge of an orgasm I could only get from him, and he knew it. “Fucking asshole,” I spit, even though there’s no one there to hear it. I don’t need anybody. Least of all August. Or any of these fucking guys. “I’ll pick up your stupid books,” I mutter under my breath. I gather up the ones that fell off the shelves and make sure to smear his cum on the pages before slapping them shut and putting them away. The pages will get stuck together, and it’ll serve him fucking right.

[hotluncheddie]

So very much on the same page, and I can’t stop thinking about it either. So, uh, here’s this? I guess?

- - - - -

Usually, Eddie sticks to ice cream. He can squirrel plenty away from his job at Scoops—it can’t be called stealing if they’re just going to throw it away. 

But the store has recently expanded into decadent brownie sundaes, and there are whole trays going to waste, and Eddie can’t stand it. 

So more often than not lately, at home, after dinner and after Wayne has gone to bed, he smokes up and brings out the latest shift’s stash of liberated baked goods along with the last scrapes from a handful of different ice cream tubs. A plate for the former, a bowl for the latter, and one big spoon. He indulges in his high and his sweet tooth at the same time, slipping into the pleasant, hazy space of bite after bite after bite. The way his teeth sink into fudge brownie, just this side of stale but he’s found he can’t taste that difference much if he just nukes them in the microwave real quick. The way they’re *warm* after the microwave, heating up his mouth after the ice cream, making the next spoonful melt across his tongue, the mix of dripping cream and firm chocolatey goodness filling his mouth, filling him up. The way, after a few minutes, he can unbutton his jeans and the zipper takes care of itself, easing down with the swell of his belly like a sigh of relief. Of letting go. 

In those moments, he lets himself think of Steve. The one kiss they’d shared before the government had hustled Eddie and Wayne away in the night, no warning to them or anyone else before it happened. He lets himself imagine that it’s Steve pulling the zipper down, letting him breathe, letting Eddie shape his own image now that he’s not allowed to grow his hair out anymore. 

He traces the stretch marks that accompany his scars—marks that he chose for himself, not that anyone ever sees. There’s really only one guy for him, and, well… Eddie’s never found out what the government goons told his old friends, the monster hunters *or* the Corroded Coffin guys, but he figures the only two possible options are “dead” or “ditched you.” No way to come back from that, either way. So he contents himself with the Steve in his imagination because the real one will never see him again, will never have an opinion on his new curves or the red lines decorating his belly and thighs, good or bad. He never has to worry about that. 

Eddie eats another brownie, followed quickly by another spoonful ice cream, lets it melt and mix in as he chews. He swallows, letting his still crumb-dusted hand trace lightly over the sliver of belly that peeks out beneath a t-shirt that used to hang off him. Shivers, because the skin there is getting so deliciously sensitive. 

There are a few more brownies to go, and more than enough ice cream to accompany them. He picks up another, still warm. (The nice thing about the weed is that it usually lets him power through without needing to get up for a second round in the microwave.) In his imagination, Steve reminds him that he’s earned this after all the shit he’s endured and helps him shift so his jeans zipper won’t pinch as he continues to relax. 

And Eddie takes another bite. 

anon... i think im in love with u... this is too much... i don't know what to say

i think i need to run around naked in the moonlight to deal with my feelings about this.

i love how u write

the brownie sundays were the higher ups idea to boost business during the holidays. remind people that ice-cream wasn't just a summer thing.

eddie wasn't complaining, until he had to make the thing and it took ages. oh well, works work, and while its decently popular there's always leftovers. leftovers with the shortest shelf life in the store.

the tail end of winter and soon to be end of the brownie special is what made eddie really check in with where his body was sitting, without the bliss filled haze of his evening routine. his nights spent indulging in his sweet tooth, in his fantasies of steve, in the feelings the two mixed together stirred in his gut. it's heady and addictive, eddie doesn't want to stop. but the waistband of his shorts was quickly loosing its battle agains the sensitive skin of his pink streaked and scarred, stomach and hips.

eddie huffed, just managing to make the flaps meet. he strokes his fingers lightly over the skin of his underbelly. shivers, at how much he's changed.

eddie seems to take more notice his body that shift. he feels the bite of the seatbelt once he gets into his van, different than before. there’s a cool gust of air on the underside of his stomach when he reaches up to grab something from the top shelf of the supply cupboard. while he’s on his break he feels, for the first time, how his belly has just started to sit in his lap, how his thighs spread and fill up the chair.

he planned, like he does some days, to not take back whatever leftover there are. resist and start fresh, turn over a new leaf. fit back into his shorts.

but there are two full trays of brownie about to go to waste. and a selection of tub dregs that almost fill up half way when piled together.

he stows it all safely in the passenger seat.

wayne’s out till late with some work buddies and eddie has tomorrow off. the place to himself. he sits at the little kitchen table still in his work clothes, makes himself dinner like normal. then sets the first heated up try of brownie in front of himself. he imagines steve on the other side of the table. how he might be asking about his day, eddie would like to know about his. would he hold eddies hand across the tabletop? probably, if he asked.

he digs in, alternating between gooey chocolate and cool ice cream. without the haze of weed he feel the full force of its sweetness. halfway through he shifts, feels how the desert sits in his stomach. feels, more intensely than this morning, the pinch of his shorts. he attempts getting a finger between the waistband and the underside of his hip, but there no hope of getting it in. he takes another few bites of brownie, then ice cream, then brownie and walks his fingers lightly down the swell of his gut. he shivers, wonders what steve would say looking at him now, whether his eyes would darken, whether he would walk his own fingers across eddies stomach.

he signs again, brownie finished.

getting up, eddie loads up the microwave with the next batch and heads to his room to make this evening feel a bit more normal again.

spliff dangling from his lips he looks at himself in the mirror, undoing the button on his uniform and watching the zipper pull apart on its own. he lights up and pulls at his shorts, fascinated by the red lines left by his waistband. he traces them idly and inhales deep. his eyes roaming his now full stomach, pushing out agains the fabric, how the indent of his belly button is just visible. he traces that too, skims his fingers upward, over his nipple and bigger pec, up to take the splif from him mouth and exhale.

would anyone from hawkins still recognise him like this? he likes to think they would. his hairs shorter but he didn't have to dye it. same eyes, same mouth, his cheeks look a little rounder but, same face. same face that steve kissed, once, might kiss again, given the chance.

eddie would, given the chance.

he's starting to feels the blunt, hears the microwave beep. good, he's craving ice cream.

[chiquititaosita]

Ussopp with a curandera s/o

bear note: this was a request from @lunamoonartist i hope you loved reading this as much as I loved writing him 🤭

post type: headcanon and mini scenario

reader: latina reader

- will immediately try to impress you with his ‘knowledge’ of herbs

-“oh hey y/n i love what you did with the.. what’s that thing again… yeah that! it looks so cool.”

- is super duper supportive!

-hypes you up

-“ you’re cleansing right now?”

-“cLEANSE mE PLEASEE!”

- you gives you space when you’re hyper focused onto your rituals

-“hey- babe.. I’ve been seeing repeating numbers…what do they mean?”

-Is going to take part into your healing journey.

-will let you treat his wounds if he gets injured

-“there all better!” You’ll kiss the bandaged spot on his injury.

-he’s a huge blushing mess when he sees you, unlike sanji he can NOT actually control himself

- will make you little trinkets for your altar.

-“ I made this for you. I know it’s not a big-“ he’ll just blush when you hug and accept his gifts he makes you

- “Well guys you’re not gonna believe it Y/n likes me and she gave me a hug.” He’ll smirk while blushing, just to hear a reaction out of someone by that someone it’s sanji.

-“Y/NNNNNNN SWANNNNN I WANT A HUG TOO!!!!” he’ll pout and run after you, which of course you give him a hug too

- but when usopp confessed to you, it was the cutest shit ever.

Okay so imagine this, you’re walking around to the gather the herbs nearby from namis orange tree which she gives specifically YOU. you were trying to make some orange juice. You also had had planned a ritual for abundance and love. As you gathered all of the supplies, when you were beginning to do the working, you heard a thud coming from outside your door.

“Ussopp? is everything alright?” You opened your door to see the tall figure adjust himself ro see you.

“AH- Y-Y/n! Y-yeah everything’s fine! I was playing with chopper and luffy.” He scratched the back of his head laughing nervously

-“ah, okay. Say can you help me reach that top book on my shelf? I can’t reach it.” You’ll come up with some excuse to just for him to stay longer.

- It worked. However, there was one particular night that made you two seal the deal.

“Hey Y/n! What are you doing awake this late?” he’ll be confused about seeing you in your sweats and black tshirt.

“I couldn’t sleep. You?” You’ll sit by him as he has s big blush appear on his face.

“Oh— uhhh I’m on night watch. You know trying to make sure no one comes by! So I can protect you.” He’ll pretend to talk all macho, just to make you laugh, which it works. He loves to hear you laugh. It’s one of those things he loves about you.

“Hey um… there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you.” Your face will perk up as your colored eyes look into his amber eyes.

“What is it? Im listening.”

“Okay…here it goes.” He’ll take a deep breath.

“ireallyreallylikeyoulikemorethanafriendtypeofwayandidontwanttoruunourfriendshipwithwhatwehave—“ you grab him by his suspenders to lean in to kiss him. which he gladly accepts and kisses you back.

“W-WH” you’ll cover his mouth as you laughed quietly while kissing his cheek booping his nose.

“Finally! I’ve been trying to get you to notice my hints. I’m just glad I didn’t have to do the work.”

“W-wait so you like me too?”

“Duh isn’t it obvious why do you think I keep having you to come ‘help’ me? So I can see you and spend more time with you!” you’ll smile as you leg your hand out

I got a girlfriend now!!!! YESSS IN YOUR FACE SANJI! Wait til the guys hear about this at breakfast.

He’s gonna make a fist and do a gesture of victory.

“C-can i hug you?” You nodded enthusiastically with open arms as he hugs you so tightly to shower you with kisses.

-“here wear this. if it unravels let me know so we can replace it.”

-he’s gonna sigh in love even if you give usopp gifts for the sake of his protection with his clumsy ass. He’s gonna fall in love with you even more!

-“see this! y/n got it for me! I actually really love it.” he’ll blush at the thought the way you caressed his skin as a blessing

- is a blushing mess when you hug him, and do pda around him.

- “so what does the lime do?”

-“absorb the negative energy, observe.” Shows the rotting lime, and lemon.

-“I don’t feel so good.”

-you’re gonna do a whole ass cleanse on him and he’s like “no babe it’s fine-no keep going this is niceeeeee…..”

-“ She’s mine! Back off! Luffy!! Don’t take her food!!!”

-“um babe, I found one of your jars that broke and I made you this little windmill since I know it gets hot in here”

-“do you have any of that cologne? it smells really good!”

-“guys calm down it’s just like y/n-Chan says if we have to inhale the good shit exhale the bullshit.”

-“hi honey what are you doi-“

-“ I need a tarot reading.”

-so yes one of the best boys to have as your partner!!

[room-on-broom]

Got builders/glazers in:

They rang me to let me know the crew were running late. Corrected when addressed as Mrs. He says "Ah so you're here daughter then-" and then a very loud "NO THATS OUR CLIENT" from someone else down the line.

Simon whos the manger must have made a note on my file? or else it's the trans flag drawn on the door? cos when I awncered, 1st builder very flusteredly awncered, "Mrs __? sorry! I mean they __? No thats". I told him " its ray, Just Ray is fine" and he was very relived and introduced his crew and added thier pronouns too. bless that's very touching.

(I'm not married I don't know where the Mrs is coming from. I didnt use Mx on the paper work either)

The one who rang earlier did double take and I can physically see his mind trying to connect my baby face and dress sense to 'cliet'

Third builder keeps calling me love and the lady/the lady's which would normally annoy me but he sounds like an old timey mob boss so I'll allow it for once.

They have with them an apprentice guy who looks like a random sulking teen they just pulled out of bed.

Old timey sounding builder had to move the cat tree to measure a thing and to the tune of easy lover started singing "she's a kitty lover"

I heard a low whistle at one point and a "ooooooh kay. Someone phone Simon?" And Desided it best I not know.

Took cuppas around because I was making myself one. Realised I accidentally gave second builder a mug that says fuck off I'm painting. Hope he dosnt see that as directed at him.

The guy from a few doors down was demanding to know what their up too, despite the van that says what they do parked up out frount

Next doors dog or dogs both go nuts every time first builder walks past in the back yard. None of the others as far as I'm aware.

Someone's text alert is EY UP YOUVE GOT A MESSAGE. He's very popular.

I've a wall that's covered in brighly coloured paint splatters where I had a brake down mentally last year? First builders poked it. idk see if it was still wet?

The apprentice flipped the bird my book shelf?

Second builder appogised saying my cats got out. I told him my cats staying with my mum cos building work. He went away cam back and asked what cat I had. Told him.

"Not ginger?" "No...oh it might be cat from down the road." "Ah."

Said ginger cat must have just wandered in the open door? It then back out again via the space where the window had been but dodged being caught. It's sat on a wall glaring at them now.

At one point I went down to awncer the phone and the apprentice is there knelt hammering the wet window putty? Okay.

Turned out thing that caused the whistle earlier was when they took out the old wooden window frame and discovered its hollow with the window threadinginto it. Apprenty its no meant to be like that.

They had to break the glass to get it out

I'm hiding away in another room while they work but I need a wee but im too nervous to use my own bathroom with all the going back and forth

[measureyourlifeincake]

May your old computer rest in peace (?)

yeah so the thing about my old computer is that i bought it a year ago bc my old-old one was running out of storage space and was just lowkey crappy, so i asked my brother to help me look at specs to figure out what would be a "good computer" and i found one that seemed good for a decent price*(it was some kinda dell inspiron. the old-old computer was a different dell inspiron)—yknow, decent amount of RAM, solid state drive, good processor, all that stuff—but it just like...kinda sucked? pretty much from day one. it ran super slowly, couldn't do a video call half the time, and im not much of a gamer but it couldnt run disco elysium (i'm no expert on this sort of thing, but i feel like disco elysium shouldnt be that hard to run on a modern pc? it doesnt seem like theres that much going on there, as far as games go).

so anyway, i was making do with that hunk of junk, when i tried to open it and the hinge totally broke out of nowhere. i brought the thing to best buy and the geek squad dude was like "you should call dell bc you have warranty and this is a known problem with these things so they could probably replace the part for free, but if you get it fixed here it'll cost money" so i called dell and they were like "yeah thats not covered by your warranty but we'll have the warranty guy call you back tomorrow" and then the warranty guy never called me back so i was like. welp. and i went back to using my old-old computer and honestly it runs better than my new-old computer did so i was like "why spend any money getting that thing fixed (or make myself push through executive dysfunction enough to follow up with dell and see if they can get it fixed for free) when im just gonna have a still-shitty computer by the end of it and I already have a working computer?" so i'm back to this old one and the new-old one has been collecting dust on a shelf while i waited to get a new-new one

so when black friday was nearing i decided to look at lenovos (bc a friend who knows more about computers than i do recommended the brand) and spent a long time just staring at and comparing different laptops bc i only know a little bit about this and was freaking out bc the specs looked FINE last time and i STILL dont know why my computer sucks (like. it was a newer model with a better processor and more ram than my old-old computer. by all rights it should NOT be running worse) so i just kinda crossed my fingers and hoped (i ended up getting one that is maybe a little more higher-end than is probably necessary for my purposes out of fear that anything lower would Mysteriously Suck. hopefully this one lasts for a good long while)

anyway at least lenovo seems to have a reputation for being durably built, so i probably wont have broken hinges (ive had several dells and multiple hinge/other hardware problems)

so yeah rest in fucking pieces or whatever

*you'll note that i bought it nearly exactly a year ago. i have been making use of black friday/cyber monday deals lol

[bagelbucket]

TALK 2 ME ABT UR OCS NEOW!!! nf

YEAHHH HI so we have all of our little guys of course. holds them gently. ive been imagining that one phantom oc lately,,,, just like little things silly things. they r the kind of guy to make a bouquet out of weeds and greens. tall grass for the filler. seeding dandelions. large leafs around it all. maybe a stem or two is crooked and the vase they put in all in is a little chipped but they dont have much underground and those plants are the only things that will thrive at all under the glow of lichen and a torch or two.

hade is in my brain too rn hes crawled right in there. rn hes more of a concept that im holding. gently. i think he collects things. like little trinkets he buys at shops during supply runs. but the really silly tourist ones like bobble heads or dashboard decorations or silly cartoon glasses or those coins you put into the press machines at airports or aquariums or zoos. he stores em all in a small box under his bed because theres no shelf space in his quarters.

erm aannnd. i have a new redacted oc. theyre an illusionist but like. OP. because illusions are just whatever your mind tells you is real. its all fake. and the brain can be tricked so easily so they use that to their advantage in subtle ways however they need. then the department picks up on it somehow and offers them a job. bamf oc. usually all of my ocs are little pathetic soggy guys so i needed someone to balance it out. yk with braincells. just rotates them in my brain.

[arytha]

orchid, cactus, bamboo, abelia, daffodil, mahonia, chia, camellia, jasmine, ivy, chamomile, aloe vera, palm tree, taro for get-to-know-me asks?

orchid ⇢ what’s a song you consider to be perfect?

I. So I don't consider things by 'perfection' honestly but Fuck is CLASS::EXSPHERE_NOSURGE; a song that will forever kick my ass. Absolute favourite song of all time.

cactus ��� something you’re currently learning (about)?

Waves my little Chinese Mandarin language learning app 'Hello Chinese' that helps (but with how i remember to do stuff i keep forgetting to do things) me remember that I actually did take 2 years of Mandarin in school.

bamboo ⇢ do you change into a different outfit when you get home?

Yeah I generally change out of my scrubs and into pjs. Usually a tank top and shorts 👍 be comfy

abelia ⇢ do you have a particular piece of jewelry you always wear or can’t part with?

Nope. Actually I used to wear a ring all the time, and then I lost it. And I used to wear a necklace all the time but I kept putting it in my mouth and it wore off the cheap silver coating. (for reference these were both while i was in middle school). I can't stand wearing jewelry daily anymore, it gets in the way.

daffodil ⇢ do you have siblings? if yes, in what ways do you think you’re similar to or different from them?

Yep, two younger brothers. I don't get along well at all with the older one (nothing in common at all), but the youngest has a similar humor as me and we're pretty good friends..

mahonia ⇢ what place, thing, activity inspires you most and how do you express yourself when it does?

Ehhhhh. Mainly reading inspires me the most honestly. Sometimes a song will also give me the executive function to create too, but it depends on whether I have the time to draw or write at the time!

chia ⇢ what’s an inside joke you have with someone else?

Logan and I have an adage we quote all the time which is simply: Don't worry about it.

Character is showing a weird side in a show we're watching? Oh, don't worry about it.

I make a weird noise? Don't worry about it.

Didn't catch the last half of a lewd joke or simply just a sentence he's said? Don't worry about it.

Its used more maliciously (in jest) than anything but its the funniest fucking thing we've let become a running joke.

camellia ⇢ what were you like when you were younger? do you think you’ve changed a lot?

Ah. Well, I basically wasn't a human being until 2018 or so, so.... Trauma (and clinical depression and overwhelming anxiety) did a number on me. Its actually rather hard to remember my life unless I focus on really trying to remember things. I was a lot quieter tho, read books to escape reality, and had like. No friends. I tried to validate myself through internet 'friends' and made a lot of mistakes in the pursuit of being a human. I have changed a lot (and I better have, i've healed and matured quite a bit), but I do think I still hold some of my core. qualities i think.

jasmine ⇢ do you have a movie or book you loved but will never watch/read again?

I'm never reading The Series of Unfortunate Events again. You can't make me. I LOVE the books. I cannot read them again. I Own the books (in nice shiny hardcover with the original printing, too), they are never going to be anything more than used space on my shelf.

ivy ⇢ what are your ‘tells’ for your emotions and moods? how can someone tell you’re happy, annoyed, upset or tired?

Uhhh my state of attentiveness I think. Logan says I enter 'screensaver mode' when tired but I'm not sure what actually changes. They can usually pinpoint it straight away tho fhdjs

Like if I'm more attentive and listening and engaging with you (ofc this is more for real life/voice call) im usually in a better state, I tend to tune things out when i get upset or tired or annoyed. Idk.

chamomile ⇢ what kind of things do you like receiving as gifts?

I have suuuuuch a soft spot for plushies. Its insane how soft I am over even just. a little guy. I don't even collect plushies but they always end up being my favorite present somehow. My coworker gave me a really soft Pusheen last year for my birthday(? or xmas) and god that thing lives at the end of my bed now but i was holding on to it daily for Months.

aloe vera ⇢ what’s something (mundane) you really want to experience in life?

Living in a house and not having anything in it that would deter me from. wanting to go home?This is a genuine first thought don't look into it too much..

palm tree ⇢ do you have a fictional villain you shouldn’t like but love regardless?

am i allowed to like the little shit that is Asahi from ffxiv (the answer is no. I love him tho (and Fandaniel))

taro ⇢ if someone called you right now to catch up, what’re the things you’d tell them about?

(if they're close enough) I'd probably talk a bit about my recent art for Era and Lorne? I don't have a life that's bery interesting unless you are willing to let me babble about my recent hyperfixations...

[merulast]

People in space

(Event Horizon - Family movie that teach people about space physics)

I took a deep breath when I left the transport and raised my head to the top of the ceilings. This was the right station, and it was underground. But yet the light seemed so surreal .. normal. Not Neon. Not Bulb or LED. It just felt natural. Like being on an open flower field in spring. Not many ft under the ground. Staring at special lights that Karls-Ruhe had installed on this stations to keep you distracted. Like everything is fine. Everything seemed right.

I already remained as the last person on this station. It was time to go. So I climbed the the stairs, following the led stripes thought the surreal and bloomy scenery back to the surface. It rained. I noticed that there was another rail road on top of the underground one. Wondered what the difference might be, and passed by of this blinding colourfull display windows. Offering to transfer money. Good food. Having a call with your families or risking your salaries on some slot machines. And in between all of this was an narrow door. 24|7. The serial number of my home for tonight.

I mean. Not the first door. Not the second. Not the big ones, of places that ran down. Closed up and pasted over by political papers on the former clear windows. No. The last one, the tiny one.

Just the right code, and the door would open. Let you in a narrow room with 4 computer panels and a desk that divides this room like an natural but useless barrier between customers and the paper files stored in a shelf behind.

"Hello customer. Please tell me your booking number, and your name" Easy task. Two of the terminals seems to work. The others just show something confusing. Probably had been out cold for quite a while. I started to enter the number. The display calibration was slightly off. Writing on it was not that easy.

"May I help you?" an voice asked. A small man suddenly approached besides me. The look in his eyes was firm. Like he had seen to much, and rules was the thing, that kept his world together. "Nah. Im fine." I try to continue. It's not as there werent many posters on the wall telling you what to do. I cant remember, if the posters had been intact. Maybe something had been torn off? Maybe something, that I should had known. But somebody made sure that I will not know. Not now. Maybe never.

He was insisting "I really should help you!" I raised my tired eyes from the display and slowly move them over, and down to him. "Its complicated." "Hm. If i cant even handle that. How could I handle anything on the path that lays ahead?" He dont cared. Raises his small hands to the display and starts punching on the different shapes. "Now take a card and put it in front of the scanner!" I might had a weird look over my face. Why in all world was he not completing the task himself, it is was SO important? Why having panels in the first place? I took my card and presented it to the scanning device.

Error. "Do it again!" he keeps punching on the panel. "Do it again!" "Again" "Again!!!" And without anything changing. My hand was not even moving. Suddenly he said "Its done. What are you waiting for? Go up! Its capsule 20!" And off he was.

I took a deep breath. Climbed the stairs to a smal lobby with tables and a running TV. Some kind of space documentary where soldiers shot and killed each other. In front of them some old guys. Wearing leather jackets that probably had been made out of old enemies skins. Or maybe the remainings of old friends. Haircuts strong like short steel. Faces firm and strong, but crafted by deep, painfull memories. A dark skin tone in memorial to their probably orange skinned idol. The blue, almost blinded eyes gave me a short look. But no words. Nothing. At least they had been alive. Not like the other guys sitting in the corner and staring to the screens in front of them. Probably this backs will never be straight ever again.

I nodded to the room and progressed further thought the first security lock. The card worked. At least.

....

It was deep in the night. I already had been in my capsule for a long time. But they been still shaking. Sometimes the wodden planks outside of the capsule made noises. I decided to do not ask, why steel secured capsules needed to be patched up with pinewood planks. Maybe it is not steel at all? No. Do not think about it. Again and again the capsule was shaking. I decided to raise up the air conditioner a bit more so that it's rapid operating noise might calm me down.

....

Early morning. Time to get up. The temperature had risen to 27°C. The conditioner did its best to blow air and dust, alot of dust into my tiny capsule. But probably it would had been more efficient, when it just could blow, and suck at the same time. Like, having a stream of air floating thought the cell. But no. It was eighter one. Tough decisions had been made. I open the airlock and feel the pressure lowering. The floor looks empty. Most of the flocks had allready left.

....

Stitting in front of the TV. Eating and watching 'jenifer tat'. It was somehow the only non war related thing that i found. And suddenly. The guy spawned to my left.

"What are you watching there?" "A true crime show" I was wondering, if this was 'ok' or not. Its a public place. On the other hand... It was basically just like most true crime shows. An long stream of sad pictures and interviews. "It's horror!" he asked. No, not really, he decided. "Its a documentary?" I asked. "No its horror" Insisting again. And suddenly it felt like there was horror. I just had not been able to see it so far. "Let me help you" he smiled, and ripped the remote control out of my hand. Soon enough he noticed that all the other options had been much worse. "This is so bad. So much horror. So much horror." He decided to select one show by himself.

And a warm, big smile came over his face. He walked away. I sat there. Left behind and not able to continue. I waited for 5 minutes. The walked over to the capsule. Collected all my stuff and headed to the exit. Fast, but not too fast. Suddenly I remembered the faces of this other old men here. Those blinded eyes. Those empty eyes. I passed by the TV and even thought I shut it up when I left. It was activated again. Running BBT again. I looked around. But I did not saw -him-. Even thought I felt his presence.

I walked down the stairs. Threw the card back into that machine. I left the place and the city. Probably to never return again.

[planetflos]

✿ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒! | 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗆𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗓 ̥*ೃ♡𓏲

synopsis ⇨ in which i describe what it would be like dating maddy perez using these cute lil’ headcanons!

pairings ⇨ maddy perez x fem!reader.

warnings ⇨ angst—mentions of nate jacobs and domestic issues, swearing, fluff fluff fluff, and maddy being: maddy!

authors note ⇨ episode four was…i don’t think i have the words. it was definitely something, and maddy deserved a better party than what was given to her.

maddy the baddie, this diamond loving gem would have the biggest soft spot for you and would not be afraid to show it. you would mean everything to her.

miss perez is definitely the kind of girlfriend to take pictures of you off guard. when she shows you them, you’d be icked out by the awkward angle she captured you from, but she would 100% assure you that you’re the most beautiful person in the world and you look good at every angle. it’s true, i mean.

maddy would show her love for you in many ways—small gifts, kisses on the cheek, hand holding (lots of pda, she loves pda) flirty compliments, etc. she would also be your personal hype woman, especially on the days where you don’t feel as glamorous as usual.

you two would definitely mix match outfits from each other’s closets; she would swipe a pair of baby blue pumps from your top shelf and you would barrow her lavender daisy printed dress because it matches the earring and bracelet set you got from the mall.

make out sessions for hourssssssssss, maddy gives off major kiss queen vibes. you two would skip class and run off to the girl’s bathroom to get your mack on (along with manic panic from hearing footsteps, voices approaching, and keys jingling). by the time you two are done, her lashes would be hanging off the base of her lash line and your lipstick would be everywhere…but yours lips.

maddy would start arguments about the littlest things.

‘i saw the way he was looking at you. i’m not fucking stupid, yn. i know what im talking about.’

‘why did you say ‘okay’ like that earlier?’ ‘when?’ ‘i already said when, stupid. earlier.’

calling her ‘perez’ just to get on her nerves (maddy is so funny when she’s irritated, i’m giggling rn).

‘whatever, perez. i’m not doing this with you today.’ ‘don’t fucking call me that! i have a first name for a reason, use it!’

wherever she goes, you go. if someone from school invited her and the girls to a party or a sleepover, you’re coming with.

speaking of the girls, i think they would love you! but of course, not as much as maddy does.

and speaking of sleepovers, maddy would definitely share sleeping space with you. if you’re sleeping on the couch, she’s sleeping on the other side. she loves to be near you.

shopping dates at the mall—her second home. she would share the gossip about some of the workers in her favorite stores as you guys are cruising down the walkway, bags in one hand, strawberry and banana smoothies in the other.

‘i totally think that (sip) taylor is pregnant by the short guy who works at the pizza shop near kat’s house.’ ‘oh my god! (sip) are you serious? which taylor, the taylor that works at (sip) icing?’ ‘mmm, no. the taylor that (sip) works at victoria’s secret.’

maddy has a total princess complex, but she loves it when you sit on her lap.

kat and cassie being totally jealous of maddy’s relationship with you. kat would be vocal and gush, while cassie would just watch with pure envy in her eyes.

listening to music together in her room; you’d have one airpod in your ear and she’d have the other in hers.

her being your fashion guru.

‘you better not walk out the door until you’re looking fabulous, yn ln!’

nate jacobs seeing you two in the hallways—he would just stare. maddy would pull you close to her and give him the evil eye.

‘fuckin’ creepy ass cunt.’ she’d mumble underneath her breath.

bedazzling everything with her—and i mean everything. from inside your locker door to your car keys, everything would be covered in diamonds.

more petty little arguments.

‘okay, but you didn’t have to roll your eyes like that. i was only asking a question, yn.’ ‘and? i don’t have to respond if i don’t want to, my god maddy. it’s always something with you.’

rubbing her back and listening to her rant about the drama going on in her house.

dancing with her at parties; you two just being all over each other.

relaxing by the pool with her and cassie on the weekend.

maddy wrapping her legs around your waist whenever you two hug (so cute…just stop).

heated make out sessions in your bedroom.

‘i know i can be a bitch sometimes, but i love you, yn. you mean so much to me.’

🏷♡: aka tags. so yeah, i’m doing this now, i think! starting off with tagging my mutuals and some of my fav accounts that i follow. if you wanna be tagged in my fics and etc, just shoot me an ask or message and i’ll hop on it asap. @luversgirl @rileybinaa @taylorscrdigan @lovelyjj @avenging-fandoms @poguesarah @milkiane @novxturient @mentalpolaroids @msgorillagripcoochie @sugarcoatedjj @pankowfruitsnacks. more to be added!

[the-archxr]

*vague cryptid sounds* yOU TAKE REQUESTS FOR STEVE

can i please have headcanons for moving in together and/or him proposing??

thank you ily

I LOVE YOU TOO BRO AND IM SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG

aight so for shits and giggles let’s just say you two practically already live together.

except you don’t live anywhere specific.

it’s either you’re at your house and Steve happens to be there as well, or vice versa. never once are you guys separated in any way because that shits nearly impossible.

you sleeping all by yourself in your cold ass bed? unacceptable.

him watching tv alone and eating leftover pizza? pizza that you had ordered??? no way jose.

even though you both need your space (cause quite frankly it’s unhealthy if you don’t), you don’t want to be in separate homes.

because you are each other’s home, ya feel??

anyways

I think you guys moving in together would be the most natural, organic fucking shit in the world. like the kind of thing where Steve just shows up on your doorstep with two suitcases, a backpack and the biggest fucking smile ever.

although let’s be honest, he’d make a joke about it, try to play it off as though he wasn’t bouncing off the freaking walls at the thought of actually living with you.

“rents fucking expensive, babe. I think splitting it is the more economical decision.”

and of course you give in; play along right with him

cause that’s just how the two of you are, and deep down you both knew this shit was coming (honestly you’re more shocked that it didn’t happen sooner).

it’s a smooth transition as both of your lives completely entangle

like to the point where you’re writing your joint schedules on the calendar; keeping your toothbrushes together instead of on either side of the sink; buying his shampoo without him even having to ask you; him having a glass of water ready for you on your bedside table.

anyone who comes over always asks if you’re secretly married; the running joke being you take off the ring when you have company and put it back on when they leave.

it’s the kind of joke that you both roll your eyes at and pretend to forget cause for the most part marriage and kids are at the back of your minds (until you find out months later about steve’s lil’ breeding kink, but that’s to elaborate on for another time if y’all ask nicely).

and so for a solid year and a half you somehow get even closer.

the kids and Robin visit you all the time, which isn’t surprising at all (despite the fact that Robin is constantly trying to bribe you guys on her moving in for a little bit once she graduates).

everyone loves your place and each person brings a little knick knack to add to the space. there’s even a designated shelf you put up because the kids just continue to bring so much stuff (el having a particular interest in bringing random wild flowers she picked off the side of the road).

meanwhile Dustin brought over his old Nintendo as a “welcome gift” (though it’s his excuse to come over all the time, saying “oh, I forgot I gave it to you. I just didn’t want to misplace it.”)

he comes over unannounced too, which causes a couple issues (although he never fixes them) after he walked in on the two of you having sex for the third time.

but when the kids aren’t stealing your pocket money and buying shitty takeout, you and Steve actually have quite a lot of alone time.

living with him is simple and fun and calming.

you’re either cooking together, dancing to his cassettes or having horror movie marathons

(and although he’s terrified of the horror movies you pick, he really likes when you watch them and your adrenaline gets up…if you catch my drift *winking aggressively*)

all in all, you and Steve fall into a beautifully tender and comfortable routine. it’s a routine that no one would dare to change, for the worse or the better…

except for Steve himself, and the small blue velvet box that waits in the back of the Robin’s closet.

✨the-archxr headcanons✨

[hereforhalstead]

Puppy Dog Eyes

*Gif not mine, full credit to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.

• Requested: Yes!

Please please please can you write no 15 from your prompt list?

I just know you'd be able to write the cutest thing from it and I love your fluff Jay so much.

• Warnings: Bit of angst?

• Summary: Jay comes home in a bad mood and is looking for the jumper of his that you’re wearing and cannot resist the look of you in it.

• Words: 1,804.

• A/N : IM SO SORRY IVE BEEN GONE FOR SO LONG😭 I’ve had such a busy few weeks and everytime I though I’d be able to fit some writing in, something got in the way. This is a very short one but wanted to get back into it with some fluffy!Jay, also a bit all over the place but we love to see it lmao. Working through my requests so keep them coming as I love to see what ideas you come up with. Thank you for the support and I hope you enjoy🥰

***

“Have you seen that navy jumper you bought me last year?” Jay’s voice echos across the room as you hear him digging through the drawers in the bedroom you share

“Can’t say I have” you innocently respond, bringing the blanket you had encased yourself in up to your chin to conceal your attire

He strides out of the room, one hand on his hip with the other running through his hair as he examines every possible space for the missing garment.

“Maybe you left it at work?”

You try and change the subject, quickly trying to avert his attention to the TV show you were watching “Has this guy been in a film we watched recently? I really recognize him?”

You hear him grunt from behind you, knowing he didn’t even stop to look in your direction as he continues his hunt. 

“Are you sure you haven’t seen it baby? You always say it was your favorite” Jay pushes your question to one side as he individually pulls off each of the jackets on the stand by the front door. 

Without even looking at him you can see the furrow in his brows, the huff that is about to escape his throat, the way his tongue would be pressed against the roof of his mouth in frustration. 

Shit. 

You’d been off work with a fever so wanted nothing more than to bury yourself in your boyfriends clothes and tuck yourself away under a blanket for the day. Normally, Jay didn’t care if you stole his jumpers. In fact he loved it.

Seeing you with his clothes hanging from your frame as you traipse about the apartment bought upon him a happiness he couldn’t explain.

Watching as you push up the sleeves as they extend past your wrists, the way the fabric would hit the top of your thighs and how his eyes would be glued to you when you reached to grab something off the top shelf to reveal an inch more of skin was one of the greatest pleasures he ever experienced.

On this day though, he wasn’t in the mood. He walked through the front door with a grunt, throwing his keys on the side and slamming it behind him. He didn’t know you were home from work as he usually tried to keep his bad moods hidden from you. 

No matter how hard you tried to get him to open up and share his feelings, he had his own way of dealing with things and you respected that. He knew you were there for him and that he could talk to you about anything when and if he wanted to and that was enough to keep you satisfied. 

All he wanted was to make a quick trip to the local shop to pick up some things for you to help you feel better. Your favorite ice cream, a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice or even just some cold and flu tablets to help ease your symptoms. 

“I think it was Fast and Furious” you innocently comment, now beginning to feel a bead of sweat drip down your back from the rising temperature caused by the blanket and feeling under somewhat of an interrogation. 

“You don’t think I’ve lost it do you?” Jay again ignores your question to which you chuckle “Lost the jumper or lost your marbles?” 

You turn to look at him as he merely murmurs at your excuse of a joke “Earth to Jay” you call out, causing him to snap his head over to you which for the first time allows you to see the irritated look that was sweeping across his face.

“Why do you want the jumper so bad? Just get another?”

He immediately stopped what he was doing.

“It’s just a jumper, no big deal. You own plenty of others” you unbeknownst to you, continued to dig yourself into a hole. “What makes that one so special? It was from an outlet, it’s hardly fancy”

You desperately kept the blanket pressed into your neck to hide the top of the jumper he was currently looking for.

You felt bad for wearing it when he clearly wanted to, but felt it had gone too far for you to suddenly confess you’d been wearing it the entire time he seemed to be ripping the place apart to try and find it.

“I shouldn’t have to give a reason Y/N, I just want to wear the jumper so I can go to the store in minus 10 degree weather to get you some stuff to cheer you up without freezing to death” 

You huff and stand to let the blanket fall from you and pool at your feet “Fine, you want the jumper so bad just take it” you spit out.

Attempting to wriggle your arms free to throw it at him with the anger that had built up inside of you. 

Why was he so set on wearing the stupid jumper when all you wanted to do was be engulfed in something that reminded you of him and bought you the comfort you were craving? 

I mean it was his jumper but.. sharing’s caring right?

The speed and level of roughness you were trying to get the jumper off with wasn’t making it an easy job. You were stuck in the material without knowing which was the arm hole and which was the head hole.

Now stood in the middle of the apartment, head buried into the fabric as you desperately tried to pull the jumper off of your clammy skin.

“Baby, just stop. Hold on” Jay’s voice was instantly softer than the annoyance his tone was previously laced with “Let me help”. 

You felt his hands grabbing at the end of the sleeves, pulling them to help you slide them off your arms before finally lifting the entire thing from your frame. 

Being face to face with Jay caused every ounce of frustration to drain from your body in a flash. You knew you didn’t have a right to be in a mood with him for wanting his own jumper, but the mixture of him being in a huff from work and you being too comfortable in his scent caused the situation to esculate to a stupid level over a $10 jumper from a store in Miami. 

“Why didn’t you say you were wearing it? You know I don’t mind when you wear my stuff” his words were as soothing to you as medication, the way the sweet words just fell off his tounge was one of the things you loved most about him. 

He always knew what to say and in the best ways.

“You seemed so desperate to find it so I felt bad” you confessed, head resting on his chest to avoid his eye contact “I could hardly own up after watching you trash the place”.

You felt his chest rumble in a silent laughter, bringing his hand to the back of your head to place a kiss to your temple “I’m glad you find it funny, thought you were going to kill me with the mood you were in” you attempted to shift the conversation into a lighter tone as he propped his head on top of yours. 

“I couldn’t kill you” he huffed “Then I definitely wouldn’t get the jumper back, contaminating evidence and all that” you snapped your head up to meet his gaze. Seeing the light in his eyes and the grin he was trying to suppress made  a smile creep onto your face as you shook your head “You’re an idiot”. 

You returned your head back to the crook of his neck, the pair of you standing in a comfortable silence as his hand lightly ran up and down your back with the occasional kiss to the side of your head as you nestled into him further. 

“Lift your head up baby” he gently demanded, retracting himself from you to separate your bodies. 

You let out a groan as he took a step back, watching as he propped the jumper back above your head, looking up in confusion as he tilted his head in a gesture “Arms up”. 

“You don’t wanna wear it?” you asked whilst already extending your arms to return the jumper back onto your body. Innocently pouting your lip and widening your eyes in a guiltless manner as he smiled down at you, excitement running through you like a child at Christmas.

“Don’t give me that puppy dog face. How am I supposed to say no to that?”

You didn’t need convincing as he pulled the jumper down your body and watched as you instinctively bought the cuffs to your face in comfort “You’re my weakness, you know that?” He confessed, gently cupping your chin with his hand.

You couldn’t find the words to respond, he always knew how to leave you speechless and this was no exception. He let out a content hum as you pressed your lips against his, lingering them for a few seconds as he pressed his hand into your lower back to keep you against him. 

“I’m gonna go get us a drink, want one?” you asked, ushering yourself away from him but only getting a few steps before he reached out to grab your hand and bring you back into him. 

“You wanna know why it’s my favourite?” he softly asked, grazing his fingertips up and down your arms as a shy smile formed on his face, a harsh swallow soon ensued as you nodded. 

“It reminds me of you and you is where I always want to be”. 

**

TAG LIST

@halsteadlover • @musicismyescape27  • @i-like-sparkly-things • @stephanie708 • @upsteadlovingheart • @nevaehstreater18 • @strand-nash  • @secondaryjob  • @youngblood199456 • @soph0864 • @13shadesofanni  • @shikshinkwon • @mrspeacem1nusone • @slytherinambitious • @loki-halstead • @morganupstead​ • @moni-serrano11 •

Click here to be added to my tag list💖

Inbox and requests open🥰