#car love and mustard

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: May 5

"I Hope It Rains" by Jana Kramer

[meow-moment]

i bet if walter white had tumblr hed be like "i am the one who blogs haha"

4 notes

🔮 purple-queen Follow

just got a beautiful ring from the store, can't wait to show it off here!

#my purchases #marie speaks

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🌶️ capncook

finally scored a new job can i get a hell yeah. back to making stacks dawg

5 notes

🪨 hankschrader4 🔁 flynwyte Follow

🏎️ flynwyte Follow

HELP A DISABLED TEEN'S FATHER AFFORD CANCER TREATMENT!

I didn't want to have to make this post, but deadlines are closing in and I don't have many options left.

My name is Walter White Junior, and my father was recently diagnosed with cancer. He's been battling for a few months now, and he wants us not to worry about him, but he can't keep pulling money out of nowhere. I've done the math, and I've estimated that he needs $12k to afford all the treatment he needs.

Any donations are appreciated! You can donate directly at my website, or donate on p@yp@l, under the username flynwyte.

407/12,000

(do not tag as donation!)

#donation

747 notes

💲 sponsored

Did you recently get in a car accident? You better call him...

→ Learn More ←

👨🏾‍💼 gustavo-fring

I am pleased to announce that we have finally hired a new social media intern.

22 notes

🐓 los-pollos-hermanos Follow

yo yo yo whaddup chicken lovas!!! were bringin back the 2-for-1 honey mustard wings combo, with that signature taste you cant help but love! get it today, bitches!

🏎️ flynwyte Follow

60 notes

🔮 purple-queen Follow

okay, you know what? No. I'm sick of this. Kleptomania is a valid mental disorder, and if i have to explain to you why, then i will.

Read More

#marie speaks #rant

106 notes

🌶️ capncook

bored on the job man its got me thinkin...

#vent post #delete later

2 notes

👊 2co Follow

i can't say shit around my grandpa bro. i make a comment about the lakers one time and its 😤🛎️🛎️🛎️😤🛎️🛎️😤😤🛎️🛎️🛎️🛎️🛎️ im fuckin SICK OF IT!!

0 notes

🐓 los-pollos-hermanos Follow

i miss her so much man...

#vent post #delete later

17 notes

🐓 los-pollos-hermanos Follow

We would like to apologize for our social media intern's mistake. As a token of our apology, we are offering a 10% discount on any chicken order if you mention this post. Have a finger-lickin' day!

14 notes

🧪 h31s3nb3rg Follow

I am the one who blogs haha

#heisenposting

1,250 notes

😺 meow-moment

Who said that

[ragingbookdragon]

I Do My Hair Toss, Paint My Nails

Bayverse Transformers x Reader Blurbs

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: I fucking wrote TF fanfiction omg. Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

Ironhide:

It’s only the fourth glance she takes out the window that has her nail tech snorting. “Are you worried someone is going to steal your boyfriend’s truck?”

She startles at his words, barely missing the drill bit going into her skin around her nail as she replies, “Huh?”

“You keep looking at the truck,” he says. “It’s your boyfriend’s, isn’t it?”

Her cheeks begin to warm as she swipes a fifth glance at the black GMC. “What makes you say it’s my boyfriend’s? It could be mine.”

“Please. You work in private security. And I know you drive a pink Porsche.” He takes his own look at the truck. “It’s a nice one. It is your boyfriend’s, right?”

“Something like that,” she replies as he dips the brush into the acrylic and begins to lay it over her nails.

He snorts again. “Okay, Miss Mysterious, keep it secret.”

She gives a smile as he continues to work on her nails and she admires them when they’re done, a sleek black stiletto. “Thank you, Ray.”

Giving a mock bow, he replies, “I do my best. Now off with you.”

Waving, she steps outside and nears the driver’s side of the truck, only to be caught off by a sports car slowing to a stop beside her.

“Hey baby,” the man greets, practically hanging outside of the window. “Where you headed?”

She blinks, offering a deadened stare and grips the door handle. “Nowhere you are. Have a nice day.”

“Now don’t be like that, sweetheart,” he replies with a smirk and starts to get out, but he stops when the truck rumbles with a violent noise. “What the fuck?”

“Easy, Ironhide,” she murmurs, and opens the driver’s door. “Have a lovely day.” Shutting and locking the door, she’s thankful that Ironhide’s windows are tinted and watches as the car pulls away in a hurry.

“You okay?” Ironhide asks. “I can always blast their tailpipe in.”

She laughs. “Thank you, but I think they got the message.”

“Hmm, I disagree, but I’ll take your word for it,” his voice hums through his speakers as he pulls off onto the street. “What did you do in there? You were gone for an hour and a half.”

“Oh, I got my nails painted!” she chirps and flashes her hands down. “See, I painted them black like your paint.”

This time, Ironhide rumbles but it’s with a subtle pride as he compliments, “As beautiful as my weapons, love.”

“Thank you,” she smiles and leans forward, pressing her lips to the center of the steering wheel. “How about we take a drive out of the city?”

“I think that’s a fantastic idea,” he replies and turns off to the main highway pointing out of the city.

***

Rachet:

“I do not understand the process of painting your nails,” Rachet comments as he watches her gently apply a mustard yellow to her nails.

“Which part don’t you understand, big guy?” she replies, not looking up, focusing intently.

“Perhaps it is more so I don’t understand why.”

“Why?”

He nods and gets closer, staring at her hands. “Why are you painting them?”

She looks up at him. “Why me specifically or why do humans paint nails?”

Rachet takes a moment to ponder her question. “Both.”

Sticking her hand under the small gel light, she answers, “Most people paint their nails as a form of self-expression. Others do so as it’s fashionable. Some just do manicures and pedicures to stay groomed. Think of it like you and the others maintaining your own bodies and staying in good condition.” She starts on the other hand when the first is cured. “Some cultures have historic context with painting nails or the length of nails and it’s symbolic to their people.”

“And what of you?” he asks.

“I guess mine is more so expression and maintenance. I work a lot so I can’t always have my nails maintained the way I want, y’know painted and with length. But I always try to keep them clean and nice looking.” She smiles as she paints a red line through them. “Sometimes I’m lucky enough that I get to paint them pretty.”

At that, Rachet tips his head a bit to see. “I’m no human but I do not think red and yellow are technically considered ‘pretty.’”

She gives him a fond look and pokes his nose with her cured pointer. “Really? Because I painted them to look like a similar Autobot I know. Or did you forget you’re red and yellow?”

He coughs slightly and looks away. “Well, now that you mention such a thing.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re flustered, Rachet.”

“Nonsense,” he retorts as he stands up straight, and she has to crane her neck to see him. “Autobots don’t get flustered.”

“I think you’re leaking oil, big guy,” she teases, and he turns hurriedly, patting himself down.

“What! Where!”

“I’m joking,” she says with a grin. “Still set on not being embarrassed?”

***

Bumblebee:

She sits at the station next to Bumblebee as he fumbles with the metal Rubik’s cube she had made for him. “What color should I paint my nails, Bee?” she asks, opening the case, and she really shouldn’t be painting her nails at work, but considering most of the higher ups are in meetings and the facility is a ghost town, she doesn’t have much to do.

Bumblebee looks down, optics zooming in on each color she lifts up for him to see.

“I’ve got blue…red…black…ooo, what about green?” she offers a deep evergreen up and he scowls and shakes his head. “No?”

He sticks a finger into the case and carefully digs around until he pulls out a tiny tube and hands it to her.

“This one?” she asks and looks at the bottle. “Sunrise Yellow,” she says and looks at him. “It matches you.”

This time he gives her a smile of pride and hands her the black bottle as well, gesturing to her middle and ring fingers.

“You want these ones painted black and the others yellow?”

“Yeah baby!” the line from a comedy movie comes over his voice and she snorts.

“Okay, Bee,” she answers and opens the bottles. “Nails that look like you coming up.” she watches as he grins to himself and dances slightly. “You keep it up, Bee, and everyone is going to know you like me.” She pauses and looks at her hands with a deadpan stare. “Actually, they’re going to think I like you.”

He bends down and gets face to face with her. “You do like me.” The words are easy enough to decipher in his rumbles and she looks away.

“Get outta heeya,” she mocks with warm cheeks, and he laughs at her. “Hey, you better stop laughing at me, or do you not remember how you practically tripped over yourself when I wore a dress the other day and you weren’t paying attention. Ran right into the high-beam and maintenance is still working on fixing it.”

At that, his battle visors come down and he hides his face as embarrassed rumbles escape him; she takes the opportunity to slide up onto his leg and sit with a smile as she paints her nails.

***

Optimus:

She greets the soldiers around her with a smile as she enters the facility and wanders back to her desk to set her things down. It’s only a few moments before Lennox finds his way to her desk and simply stands in front of it until she looks up. “Good morning, Will.”

“You’re late,” he retorts and crosses his arms over his chest. “We had training this morning. And you missed it.”

“And I think you forget I was transferred to private security.” She smiles amusedly. “I don’t work for the military anymore.”

He rolls his eyes. “Jesus, you get out and you turn into a completely different person.”

“I am not. Excuse me for enjoying not waking up at the ass-crack of dawn to go running.” She turns on her computer and sorts some paperwork on her desk. “I had an appointment if it appeases your annoyance, your royal eminence.”

“Oh, it’s not me that needs to be appeased. It’s a certain Autobot that was worried about your lateness,” he teases as she feels her cheeks heat up.

She gives him a surprised but pleasant look. “Optimus was worried about me?”

She knows she’s said too much when Lennox’s face splits into a smirk and he gloats, “I fuckin’ knew it was Optimus. Epps thought it was Sideswipe.” His grins grows as she throws her pen at him and he saunters off with, “Guys owe me fifty.”

A few minutes pass as the embarrassment begins to fade when a noise startles her and she lets out a groan and gripes, “William, go awa—Optimus!” she hides her files on her desk as if it will take away the fluster she feels. “I—I didn’t know you were there.”

The Autobot leader bends down to get level with her. “You weren’t at training this morning,” he notes, and she can’t help how her neck disappears into her shoulders.

“I was busy…I had an appointment.”

“Oh?” He blinks, blue optics watching her carefully. “Was it a medical appointment? Are you well?”

“I’m fine,” she replies. “I went to go get my nails done.”

He blinks again, this time almost confused as he asks, “Your…nails?”

She shows her hands, and he lowers his, gently taking both of hers in one; they only rest on one finger as he examines them. “In human culture, men and women paint their finger and toenails different colors. It’s called manicure and pedicure. I have acrylic nails. Made from acrylic glass and hardened with a liquid monomer. It creates a hardened surface that can be drilled and painted. Like mine.”

Optimus looks them over before he murmurs almost uncharacteristically quiet, “They are painted like my paint.”

Her cheeks warm and she looks away. “I…know we can’t exactly be open…people wouldn’t understand but…I just thought it would be a romantic gesture I guess.”

“I am honored,” he says with a smile. “They are painted beautifully…like you.”

“Optimus,” she replies with a warm smile. “Thank you.”

[paper-mario-wiki]

How invested are you in hip-hop outside of the Drake/Kendrick beef?

i'd say more than the average person but less than someone who's all about it, ya know?

to give an example using that beef as reference, i knew that Drake has always been regarded as green despite his self-proclaimed street cred, and i sorta understood why it was a big deal that DJ Mustard was on Not Like Us, but i was unaware of the incident where one of T.I.'s friends pissed on Drake's leg.

growing up my oldest brother really loved music by wu-tang clan, ludacris, purple ribbons all-stars, sugar hill gang, three 6 mafia, and a few others, so i developed an ear for it young while i listened to it in his car! hip hop still comprises at least a good 30% of the space on my most-listened tracks, although i'm not personally invested in the game to any great extent.

i have written and posted a few verses before tho! very goofy for-fun stuff but i enjoyed it nonetheless.

[yyokkki]

Riddle Rosehearts

A former city boy who ran away from home after refusing to become a doctor like his mother was.

Actually works as a lawyer at a small firm in the nearest town. He commutes by car and it's only a 30 minute drive with minimal traffic (thank god cuz his road rage is abysmal) but he works remotely on most days.

Is often found at the town saloon (the community centre after you fix it!) holding tea parties with Trey, Cater, Ace and Deuce or at the local library.

Loved Gifts: Strawberry Tart, Fairy Rose, Ruby, Universal Loves

"...Oh! Ahem, thank you farmer. Expect a return gift in the mail soon."

Hated Gifts: Eel, Clay, Royal Sword Cola, Universal Hates

"Ugh! This is unacceptable!"

Trey Clover

The local baker! His family runs a bakery in the city and he moved to NRV on his own to open another branch of Clover's Confectionaries.

He says the fertile soil and rich foragables make it the perfect place to gather ingredients on his own.

Rumour has it he runs a backdoor business for specialty toothpastes.

Is often found at the town saloon serving his pastries for Riddle's parties or at his bakery tending to his mini garden at the back.

Loved Gifts: Limestone, Pearl, Candied Violets, Universal Loves

"Thanks farmer! How did you know I needed this? ...I don't owe you anything, right?"

For Limestone and Pearl: "This is perfect! Now, to extract the calcium carbonate..." (Yes, for toothpaste)

Hated Gifts: Broken Glasses, Mustard, Universal Hates

"Oh... Uh... Thanks?"

Cater Diamond

A social media influencer and former travel blogger.

Used to travel a lot but decided to settle at NRV. He claims it's because the scenery and people are 'cute'.

Occasionally will go to the city with Kalim and Lilia to perform and hold concerts.

Is in a band with Kalim and Lilia, plays the guitar.

Is often found at the town saloon with Riddle, Trey, Ace and Deuce or in the town square chatting up the other residents.

Loved Gifts: Spicy Ramen, Diamond, Universal Loves

"Aww, you shouldn't have! #lucky #cutefarmer"

Hated Gifts: Anything Sweet, Clay, Universal Hates

"Aww, thanks but no thanks. #lame"

Ace Trappola

The local carpenter! Stays at Night Raven Valley with his older brother who he learned all his tricks from (bad and good).

Loves causing trouble and playing harmless pranks on the other residents (Deuce is his biggest victim), good at magic tricks too.

Plays basketball on sunny Saturdays with Jamil and Floyd.

The first character you meet, who was assigned with fixing up Ramshackle Farm. Shit talks your farm right to your face and holds no remorse.

Is often found at the town saloon at Riddle's tea parties or at the back on the arcade machines.

Loved Gifts: Cherry Pie, Cherry, Royal Sword Cola, Universal Loves

"Dwoes the wittle farmer have a crush on me~ Ack, I'm kidding!"

Hated Gifts: Clay, Oyster, Universal Hates

"Gross! Do you hate me or something??"

Deuce Spade

The local mechanic/handyman! He's self taught and lives with his mom, Dylla Spade who handles the deliveries in town.

Used to be a delinquent but has since turned a new leaf.

His passion project is modding the hell out of his motorcycle and hitting the roads.

Goes on runs with Jack every sunny Wednesday.

Volunteers at the Adventurer's Guild and takes requests from the board for security as his goal is to become a full time officer in the future.

Is often found at the town saloon at Riddle's tea parties or at the back getting obliterated by Ace in Junimo Cart.

Loved Gifts: All Eggs (Except Void Egg), Omelette, Battery Pack, Universal Loves

"Farmer! I knew you were a real one!"

For Battery Pack: "Thanks dude! I needed this for the finishing touches..."

Hated Gifts: Void Egg, Juice (He drinks it, it just reminds him of Ace), Bell Pepper, Universal Hates

"Hah? Oh, I thought you were pickin' a fight..."

---

TWST x SDV Masterlist

Tag List (Interact with the linked post to be tagged in future updates mwah)

[yandere-writer-momo]

I just wanted to make something cute. Something about yandere platonic Pickle gets me going

@fangurlzrul3 and I were talking in discord about giving Pickle Dino nuggies with honey bbq sauce the other day so I decided to make some cute head canons

Yandere Baki Head Canons

Teaching Pickle the modern way of living (platonic)

Pickle x researcher reader

Pickle

Now being Pickle’s caretaker wasn’t something you ever expected to be, but here you were… taking care of Pickle

You wouldn’t look Pickle in the eye for the longest time in fear that he’d attack you so you’d hand him little trinkets to get him to leave you be. His favorite was a little bell you handed him. You’d hear him jingling in the other room

But as time went on, Pickle became more comfortable around you.

Pickle sits in the doorway of the lab and just stares at you. He’s kind of like a cat or a dog with his curiosity

Pickle brings you small gifts he finds around the lap. A bottle cap, a mouse trap, and some paper clips have found their way into your desk drawer for you ‘Pickle collection.’ You didn’t have the heart to throw anything away that he gave you

Pickle would stare longingly at your lunches so you began to share your meals with him. Pickle loves the little octopus shaped sausage and he was especially fond of chicken nuggets

Pickle is a chicken nugget fiend. He will eat all of them from your lunch, even the crumbs

You introduce him to honey mustard and honey barbecue sauce and he’s starstruck. Pickle begins to love eating. He comes over to you and points at his mouth every time he sees you

Pickle hates vegetables. He spits them out every time. Even if you cover them in sauce, he will spit them out (and suck off the sauce)

Pickle loves candy and sweet! He adores cotton candy and bubble gum. It took him awhile to figure it out, but now he knows how to blow bubbles. You always hear them popping when you walk past him

You give Pickle a spoonful of nut butter (specifically peanut butter) whenever you need to get your paper work done. He will sit on his haunches and lick at the roof of his mouth for a couple minutes

You’ve tried introducing toys to him but he doesn’t understand. Pickle eats the checkers, chess pieces, cards, and even the hot wheel cars. He’s a monster

Pickle threw the baby doll you gave him across the room when it started crying so you ruled out interactive toys too

[billie-reportingbadnews2you]

Shhhh / A Billie Eilish fanfic

WARNINGS: Fingering, Cumming, swearing MDNI!!!!

Billie Eilish is your girlfriend, she was nominated for another award, and like always she invited you as her guest, she also pulled a few strings to invite Finneas OfCourse, you didn't really know what to wear but Billie wore a white shirt and a black tie with a brown and red short sleeved cardigan, so you just went with your suit that you wore one your first date. As you walked outside to were Billie was waiting for you, her face lit up with that amazing smile that you absolutely adored "I RECOGNISE THAT SUITTT" You let out a flirtatious chuckle "a special suit for a special day my love" she squeezed you almost smudging her mascara you slightly pushed her away "your makeup babe, don't smudge it" she laughed while looking up at you "oh c'mon you haven't had trouble with lipstick stains on your collar before" she chuckled and bit her lip while you blushed "c'mon our ride is here and Finneas is waiting" she tugged you by the wrist and you guys got in the car, Finneas was wearing something similar but with a bow "wow man you look good" you smiled dapping him up "thanks y/n, the suit, suits you, get it?" you and Billie both shared a chuckle, within a couple minutes you made it, the red carpet, you helped your girlfriend out of the car and held her arm while walking in, as expected the paparazzi flashed in your eyes but being with Billie you were used to it, you and Billie did a couple poses and had some fun with Finneas, we greeted some other celebrity, but soon the guards welcomed us into the massive hall, slightly pitch black at the back with mustard toned light shining the room, you and Billie moved to the back, you were at the end seat, Billie next to you and Finneas next to her. about 40 minutes go past and awards go out, people laughing, it was fun, but you felt a small touch on your thigh, you looked at Billie she was looking at the stage, you assumed it was a comfort thing, but as time went along her hand had gone further down, her hand had made it right on top of your clothed pussy. she was softly rubbing up and down against your covered folds, you had gotten wetter by the second, but you could also smell it, you started to panic people Infront of us had confronting looks on their faces, Billie's hand moved further towards the right side of your face "you want mommy to win right? let mommy have some fun time, I've heard its good luck" you were fucked whenever Billie brings something about other people's opinion there was no getting out of it, her hand stretched your pants making their way directly on your pussy, you started to squirm, Billie made sure not to be so rough so people couldn't hear how wet you were, within minutes you were trying so god damn hard not to whimper, her fingers rubbing violently against your clit, with a push your pupils grew, Billie had placed two fingers inside your aching hole, in and out, in n out, soon you were going to cum, suddenly something caused you to look at the stage, shit, it was Billie's nomination, she started going faster, "and the winner for this year's best music award goes to" Billie went faster and faster, PUSH, you came all over Billie's finger "AND IT GOES TO BILLIE EILISH" everyone started to applause and look out way, Billie took her fingers out of your pants before licking them and standing up, you looked at Finneas you knew you were glowing red, manspreading, and puffing "yo y/n you alright?" "Yea just uhm nervous" "oh alright" shit that was hard.

just something, I'm not sure if the award thing was correct, I was just making it up as accurate as possible in the moment lmao

[mionemymind]

Never Enough

Summary: The aftermath of Wanda cheating on Y/n.

A/n: Felt inspired after watching a bomb ass movie :) Gif credits to the wonderful @dreamlonelywolf

Warnings: Cheating with Vision, Cursing, Pure Angst, No Happy Ending, No Part Two

Word Count: 471

Masterlist

“What can I do to fix this? Please - I know I messed up. Please let me fix this.” It was a pathetic sight to see Wanda beg Y/n as the two quietly argued in the parking lot. Many onlookers were nearby. Y/n already felt embarrassed enough by her wife. She didn’t need the judgment of others. 

But as more people passed, it felt like everyone within a mile vicinity knew. They all knew that Wanda cheated. Everyone did besides her.

“Don’t act like you want to fix this now, Wanda. You got caught - again. Grow the fuck up.” Y/n shoved her bag at the back seat and slammed the door shut. 

Wanda stepped in front of Y/n, using her body to block the driver’s side door. She instinctively reached out to grab Y/n’s hand. “Don’t.”

Y/n backed up slightly, hands away from Wanda’s reach. “I want you out of my fucking life, Wanda. Don’t fucking text me, call me, or reach out. I’m getting a fucking divorce and that’s the last you’ll ever see of me.”

“Please - just let me talk-“

“Talk about what?! How you keep going back to him?! How this is the third fucking time you’ve got caught?! How nothing I will ever do make you fully love me?!” Getting into Wanda’s face, the red head could feel the anger dripping out of Y/n. The vein in her neck could practically burst at how mad she was. 

“If that’s what you want to hear so fucking badly, then save it. I’m tired of all the lies. You want him? Have at it. I could care less anymore.” Taking off her ring, Y/n shoved it into Wanda’s hand causing the girl to stumble back in shock. 

Using this opportunity, Y/n got into her car and locked the door immediately. Wanda tried a couple times to get it opened but failed. She tapped on the window, trying her best to get Y/n’s attention.

“I love you,” Wanda whispered, but the blank stare that Y/n held terrified Wanda. This was the point of no return. This was the last time she’ll ever see Y/n. And that scared her.

“I’m staying at Emma’s. I won’t bother getting my shit. You can have it.” Wanda’s jaw clenched at the mention of the blonde. Someone she knew had such a strong love for Y/n. Wanda scoffed and shook her head.

“Fine - go to her like you always do.” Finally looking Wanda in the eye, Y/n showed no emotion, having gone completely numb at the memory of Vision fucking Wanda.

“Don’t patronize me, Wanda. I don’t need two people to feel complete. But clearly you do.” Not waiting for her response, Y/n drove off forever out of Wanda’s life. 

Taglist: @halobaby  @arelyitsherec8 @blackxwidowsxwife @cristin-rjd @madamevirgo @trikruismybitch @paradiselost916 @mmmmokdok @morbid-gaymer @dailyavengering @itsnottilly @helloalycia @randomshyperson @tomy5girls @daenerys713 @ensorcellme @lezzzbehonesthere @imagine-reblog

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@imapotatao @iliketozoneout @maximoffbrossupremacy​@olsensnpm​ @psychadelichues​ @whitelotus00 @taliiiaasteria @tynix @autorasexy @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @hiiraya @reginassweetheart @milkeeteaa @alyciaddict @justgotlizzied

@msmothermaximoff @ielliesitchyeyereposts

[p123apples]

please God, I want to be impregnated so bad. I want him. That beautiful, radiant angel. Like a god, having come down to Earth to cleanse us of our sins.

he is beyond divine. I can’t help but drop to my knees in worship whenever I see his beautiful figure. I yearn for him in a way both primal and spiritual. I would commit more war crimes than every president in United States history just to lick the sweet, glistening sweat from his smooth, creamy skin. I want to listen to his moans as his manhood throbs within , I want to hear his heart race as our bodies become one and our souls irreversibly intertwine in the holy sin of carnal union.

I want to suckle at his motherly bosom, slurping that rich mana milk from his teat as I would stir his cream into my coffee and let his balls boil in it. His cries of pleasure and the rocking of our bed would be louder than the cacophony of ten thousand drone strikes. I would make love to him until my body gave out, and then some. I would let him break my rib cage with any part of his body. I would let him hit me with his car just to be near him for a brief moment.

he’s so perfect it hurts. Every moment without him I suffer a pain worse than breaking every bone in my body simultaneously while drowning and also having shards of glass coated in hot sauce forced through every orifice of my body. I want him, I need him. I want to desecrate his crisp general suit. I want to start a family with him and retire after our twenty seven children have grown up and moved out. I want to see those luscious lips speak such filthy, perverse words into my ear while he slides ice cubes down my gaping pisshole.

I want to fuck him like he owes me money. I would let him step on me, just to feel the soft, firm warmth of his feet upon my face and his groin area. I would sleep under him just to catch his drool in my mouth. I would fish the strands of hair from his shower drain just to smell his alluring scent, and braid them into necklaces to keep him with me always. Or cock rings. Whichever would please him more.

God please, I would do anything for him. I would relinquish my life, all my hopes and dreams, just to become the socks on his feet so that I may warm his mouthwatering toes with my very being, so that he may feel the heat of my love always. I would encase myself in cement and become his doorstep, so that he may wipe his heels upon my face. I would tear my own limbs off. I don’t know what I’d do after that, or why he might want my limbs. But I would do it.

My prince, my god, the light of my life. Please God, let me have him. I want him to be mine and only mine. I would lick the Doritos dust from his fingers and fill his belly button with honey mustard to dip my teats in. I would give him a sponge-bath with my tongue every morning and serve him breakfast in bed. I would let him eat my eggs,straight from the source . i would let him eat steak off my body if it pleased him, no matter how painful the third-degree burns would be.

I would bear the torment of eternal damnation until the end of time to taste the seat of his car but once. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for him, nothing I wouldn’t say. I wouldn’t even let myself cum until he gave me permission.

I love you,gojo . Please. Be mine. Be my life, my lover, my sorcerer daddy ,my everything. Say yes. I see it in your eyes, when you’re up there yapping about catching up to suguru or whatever. Answer my calls, respond to my letters. Something. Give me a sign, gojo. I’m waiting for you in chapter 269, come back my glorious emperor,it is time you got out of that airport or you would be escorted

descend from heaven satoru,i am waiting.

[michaelscottsbreakroom]

Big Nerd – Jim Halpert

Second one today. Yup. I love writing and Jim Halpert, plus this is really cute and just straight up fluffy. I’ve never been more proud of myself.

It’s been about two months of Jim Halpert finally dating you. It was all rather cute but awkward when you went up on your tip-toes in the rain and pecked his cheek, scurrying off to your car, holding your high heels in one hand after a small work party a few weeks before you two started dating

Now, you were both together, and it was Jim’s first time at your little apartment. It was cute and rather relaxing. You had a nice leather couch with mustard-yellow throw pillows and an off-white and burnt orange blanket draped over the top.

An older looking orange tabby laid on the couch, completely unbothered. Jim grinned.

“Is that Fluffy?” He asked you. You grinned and giggled. You hadn’t stopped laughing and giggling today from your excitement.

“Yes! He’s so cute right?” You beamed. Jim smiled back at you, feeling his cheeks flush in a childish manner. Although he was more of a dog person, it was sweet to see you get so proud and happy of your little old lady.

“How about I give you a little tour? Maybe just to get you used to the whole apartment for now,” you suggested. Jim hummed, sliding off his shoes and stepping onto the clean wooden flooring.

Walking down the hallway, you opened doors and pointed to little trinkets you owned like a cheerio-shaped vase you had on the dining room table, little blue-and-purple flowers sticking out from it.

There was one room you completely passed, not even glancing at it. Instead, you showed him to your bedroom, which was cute and very like you.

“Here’s the bedroom!” you said, showing him the room with a queen-sized bed with a large fluffy carpet. Jim smirked, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“That’s cool,” he said with a grin, looking down at you. Giggling once again, you walked to the living room.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” You asked, smiling. Jim nodded.

“Yeah, how about you choose the movie, okay?” he said, “do you know where the bathroom is?” he asked.

You hummed, turning on the TV. “It’s just down the hallway, to your left,” you directed. Jim thanked her and left.

As he got close to the bathroom, he saw the room you didn’t show him. Jim walked towards it and poked his head through the door, his jaw dropping to the ground.

A small room with a large beanbag and small television was in this room, bookshelves filled with action figures and games stacked neatly everywhere, as well as piles of opened books and posters hanging from the barely visible free walls. Jim wanted to laugh.

He called for you, walking into the living room with a stupidest grin on his face. “Are you a geek?” he asked.

You gave him a bewildered look before her face changed into realization. Heat exploded on her face, which was quite noticeable, making Jim burst out into laughter.

“JIM!” You yelled, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him. He caught it and laughed, covering his face as you launched another one at him. “Why were you snooping!?”

He continued chuckling walking to the couch and flopping down, making Fluffy jump and scurry off. Jim flopped onto your lap, stretching out with a groan and a cheeky smile.

“You’re such a nerd,”

“Shut up, Jim,”

[ww2yaoi]

[In honour of Webgott Wednesday, here's the first scene of the other Webgott WIP I have on the go whose working title is too deranged to mention. Anyways, enjoy.]

Spring of 1952. San Francisco, California.

Joe and Web have a tradition.

In the middle of the week, every week, Joe closes up the shop for lunch and meets Web halfway to the Chronicle building in the park across from City Hall. Joe brings sandwiches he buys at the kosher deli next door and they eat and drink coffee and complain about work until their hour is up.

Today is no different. Joe finds Web in their usual spot on a wooden bench by one of the fountains, the afternoon sun beaming down and bathing the pavement in buttery light. Joe loves San Francisco in April. The air is warm and featherlight, the breeze comparatively cool with seaspray, and the soupy summer fog has yet to swallow the Bay whole. Everything feels new after winter’s damp and windy gloom, and Joe is briefly reminded of Austria, of its misty mountains and glass-like lakes. It had been a springtime of rebirth after a long, hard war.

Well, mostly.

Web is always a sight in his well-tailored suits, charcoal gray tweed today, his tie a deep maroon. He’s taken off his jacket and folded it across his knee, the sleeves of his starched white Oxford rolled up to reveal his hirsute forearms. This is his uniform now. The last time Joe saw him in ODs was probably when they disembarked in New York Harbour at the tail end of 1945. He thinks Web might have burned them.

“Hey,” Joe says.

Web beams like they didn’t just see each other this morning. “Hey.”

He hands Joe the cup of coffee that was resting on the bench beside him and Joe sits down in its place. He sets the bag of sandwiches by his feet and grabs Web’s usual order, a pastrami on rye with extra pickles.

“How was the cable car?” Joe asks like he does most weeks, passing Web his sandwich and grabbing his own, corned beef with lots of mustard.

“Swarming with tourists, as per usual,” Web says with a grimace, unwrapping the paper from his sandwich.

Joe smirks. “Y’know, some lifelong San Franciscans would consider you a tourist.”

“Ugh, don’t insult me,” Web says, shooting him a look. He takes a generous bite of his sandwich then talks out of the side of his mouth. “What do they want from me? I’ve lived here for five years.”

“Yeah, but everyone can tell you’re from New York.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you think you’re better than everyone else. The New York wafts off of you like the odour of a finely aged cheese.”

“You did not just compare me to stinky cheese.”

“Hey, I specified ‘finely aged.’ Didn’t I?”

Web rolls his eyes. “Just eat your fucking sandwich.”

Joe snickers, then takes a bite of it, chews and swallows. “How’s the paper?”

Web just shakes his head. “This election is going to be the death of me.”

“It’s seven months away,” Joe says, a pocket of corned beef in his cheek.

“That doesn’t mean the whole office isn’t worked up about it,” Web counters. “Journalists…” He trails off. “My editor is breathing down my goddamn neck.”

Joe wipes mustard from the corner of his mouth and licks it off his finger. “Well, that’s what happens when you miss deadlines, Schatz.”

“Astute observation, Lieb.” Web glowers, but Joe knows he’s just being difficult on purpose. Always the same song and dance with him. “The article isn’t right yet.”

“Which article is this again?” Joe takes a sip of his coffee. “The one about the, uh, the mayor’s daughter’s ballet recital?”

Web smacks Joe in the chest. Joe was expecting as much, and he grins at having gotten a rise out of him.

“Uh, no,” Web says insistently. “I’m writing about the steelworkers union.”

“Right, the steelworkers union.”

Joe takes another bite of his sandwich and chews thoughtfully. Web had probably told him about it at one point or another, probably after sex. Web has always been too talkative for his own good around Joe, but he’s especially rambly after an orgasm. Joe likely hadn’t been listening. It’s enough to keep up with the virility of a twentysomething in bed, he doesn’t need a fucking dissertation afterwards.

“How’s business at the shop?” Web asks, changing the subject.

“Slow.” Joe picks at his sandwich wrapper. “You’d think people’s hair had stopped growing.”

Web laughs. “Well, hopefully, that’s not the case. We’d probably get evicted. Maybe it’ll pick up this afternoon.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

“Is Sal still getting on your nerves?”

Joe makes a pft sound. “Does the day of the week end in Y?”

They finish their sandwiches and coffees in companionable silence, watching as people stroll through the park with their dogs or their children who aren’t old enough to be in school yet. A well-dressed housewife walks past them pushing an expensive-looking pram. A little boy in overalls, no older than two, toddles behind her, pulling a toy truck on a string. She smiles politely at them, her eyes shaded by a pair of cat eye sunglasses and her lips a rubious red. A scarf battens down her kempt blonde curls, tied around her head with a neat bow beneath her chin.

Mom, tot, and baby are making their way to the adjacent fountain when a baby blanket hanging out of the bassinet falls to the ground. A soft pink crumple, bleached by the sunlight against the gray pavement. The woman fails to notice and her little boy pays it no mind. They continue on their walk, unaware that anything is amiss.

Before Joe can even say anything, Web is getting up from the bench and jogging over to the abandoned blanket. He scoops it off the ground and approaches the woman, getting her attention by gently tapping her on the elbow. She turns and Web presents the blanket to her like some kind of fairytale fucking prince, eliciting a wide, white smile from the woman, her teeth square and straight like a row of Chiclets. She takes off her sunglasses and places them on top of her head, probably to get a better look at Web. Joe can barely suppress the urge to roll his eyes.

The civilian world isn’t like the Army. In the Army, a pretty face like Web’s might get you relentlessly teased, or cause the men to take you less seriously until you prove otherwise. On the outside though, it’s all anyone seems to care about. People are always accosting Web, asking him for directions or chatting him up in line at the theater or next to him on the train. In the rare instances they go out to the Old Crow or the Black Cat, Joe has to keep a firm grip on him, in case some flit tries to take Web off his hands.

Web and the woman are chatting now, glancing down every so often to look at the baby in the pram. They’re far enough away that Joe can only pick up fragments of their conversation above the rushing of the fountains. Joe catches the words ‘daughter’ and ‘paper’ and ‘sweet.’ He fishes for his cigarettes in the breast pocket of his button-up and lights one, just so he has something to do with his hands. The smoke churns in his chest and the back of his neck prickles.

The little boy is shyly clinging to his mother’s skirt. She bends over and picks him up, balancing him on her hip. Web is smiling even wider now than he was when Joe first greeted him this afternoon. He waves hello to the little boy. Joe takes another sharp drag of his cigarette as Web says his goodbyes and then walks back to the bench where Joe is still sitting.

“Nice family,” Web says, plopping himself down again.

Joe doesn’t say anything. He taps ash from his cigarette onto the ground and tries to look preoccupied. Web checks his watch. He gathers up their sandwich wrappers and empty coffee cups and puts them into the paper bag to be thrown away. He’s still faintly smiling to himself as he does it. It’s just enough to make Joe’s anger boil over.

He scoffs. “Jesus, Web. Didn’t know you missed flirting with broads that much.”

Web’s head immediately snaps to the left so he can look at Joe. “What? I wasn’t flirting,” he insists. “I was just trying to be nice, and she was very clearly married.”

“Then what the hell are you smiling about?”

“Her kids! Her kids were cute,” Web says, raising his voice. He promptly lowers it as more parkgoers pass by them. “The little boy, Peter, and the baby, Judy. Christ, Joe. You know I like kids.”

Joe looks at Web. Web looks back at him. His eyes are so goddamn blue. Sometimes Joe thinks if Web were lying to him, he would be able to see it in his eyes, spot the untruth somewhere in that clear crystal blue, like a droplet of blood in water. Right now, however, all he sees is the person he loves most in this world, begging him not to be an asshole for once.

Joe’s jealousy fizzles out, mild embarrassment rushing in to take its place.

“Alright.” He shifts, letting go of some of the tension in his shoulders, and fiddles with his cigarette. “Y’know, I did hear something about you in Holland, depleting the company’s Hershey bar supply by giving chocolate to every sad Dutch kid you saw.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” The corners of Web’s mouth turn up ever so slightly in a smirk, and Joe knows his attempt to break the tension has worked. “You know about that? Who told you?”

“I don’t know. Hoobler maybe.”

“Hoobler.” Web repeats the name thoughtfully, like he’s testing it out on his tongue after not saying it for a long time. “Well, in my defense, the Krauts were starving them.”

“Wow, my fuckin’ hero. Where’s your Silver Star, Web? Is it in your sock drawer with your Purple Hearts?”

“Shut up,” Web says, but there’s barely any bite to it. “How has this not come up in the last however many years?”

Joe shrugs. “Maybe we talked about it and forgot.”

The truth is, they don’t reminisce deeply about the war very often. It comes up every now and again. Sometimes they linger on the more lighthearted memories, like a particularly funny joke Luz told or the summer afternoons they spent swimming together in Lake Zell. Anything weightier than that spells trouble for the both of them. Web becomes unspeakably angry when he talks seriously about the war, while Joe feels like he could cry ten years worth of tears.

Half a decade ago, Web had given Joe a rough manuscript of his recollections to read. Joe had barely made it five pages into the thing. He’d quickly realized that if he knew the full extent of Web’s pain, he’d never be able to disentangle himself from his own. Since then, they’ve tried not to reopen the wound, although Joe supposes that implies it closed in the first place.

Web checks his watch again. “Shit, I’m going to be late.”

“Well, then, you better go.”

“Alright.”

Web squeezes Joe’s knee — about all the affection they can get away with in public — and gets to his feet, coolly draping his suit jacket over his right shoulder like he thinks he’s Frank Sinatra or something.

“Thanks for lunch, Joe.”

“You’re welcome, Dave.”

Web turns and smiles at him, walking backwards in the direction of Market Street to catch another cable car.

“Ich liebe dich,” he says in German, in case anyone is listening. “Du bist mein Leben, meine Familie, mein Lieber.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Joe waves him off. “All the same to you, kid.”

Web laughs, boisterous and beautiful, then finally turns his back to Joe. Joe watches him go, then heads off in the opposite direction.

[This fic is currently at 28k and hopefully I will finish it AT SOME POINT.]

[copperbadge]

Well, I have returned to Chicago, but my checked bag has not. It's apparently still in Austin and while they can tell me where it is, they cannot tell me why. I guess when your bag gets bumped they're supposed to tell you, how I'm not sure, but in any case my bag is so-called still in Texas and I'll get a text when it arrives. They'll deliver it, at least.

They ask you to list three unique items in the bag so if they have to open it they'll know whose it is. I told the agent, who had a distinctive accent, that there were two puzzles in boxes, a Chicago Fire jacket (recent gift from Mum, I think she's worried I own an AS Roma jacket and might move to Italy on its account), and a meat cleaver in a blue box.

Baggage Agent: A meat cleaver?

Me: Gotta have good tools.

Baggage Agent: Yeah I do barbecue as a side hustle so I guess I can't talk, I got one in my car.

Me: Carolina? Love a mustard sauce.

Baggage Agent: I see I've met a man of taste.

So I got the assurance he'd expedite getting my bag to me, and also the business card of an underground caterer who does Carolina barbecue.

....and the train I'm on just braked super hard, screamed to a stop, and shut off. Can't win for losing today it appears.

[charliehoennam]

beyond the badge pt. 3

pairing: david loki x f!reader

summary: his fianceé is abducted and a distraught david realizes some rules must be broken in order to save the one he loves.

warnings: 18+, dark themes such as language, violence, eventual smut, suicide, death, physical injuries, threats, blood and abuse of law enforcement

SHARING IS CARING, SO REBLOG IF YOU LIKE IT

one | two | four | five

Cruising through the town in his Crown Victoria, David can’t stop looking around for you.

The amount of experience he’s acquired over the years tells him you’re almost certainly tied up in some disgusting old basement and he can only pray you’re unharmed, even though in most of the kidnapping cases he’s solved, the chances of you being completed untouched are slim to none.

But still, he scans every passing face because what if?

Other than your disappearance, what he hates the most is having to rely on a criminal keeping his word.

All he can think about is how Donovan can have a sudden change of mind and order your execution. Or he could order his boys to slap you around, mess you up or God knows what else.

It corrodes him, flipping his stomach to the point he has to pull over to the side of the road. He throws the door wide open and stumbles out of his car towards the far side. Hardly anything other than bile spews onto the grassy ditch.

With a heavy groan and hard blinks of his ticking eyes, his back rolls and straightens as his vision finally stands still.

He walks back to his car and grabs a half empty water bottle that’s being sitting his car for too many days. Using the water, he rinses the bitter taste from his mouth and spits it out a couple times.

As he climbs back into the driver’s seat, he takes another cigarette from his pack – which he’s had only for a couple hours and it’s already nearly empty - and lights it up.

“It’s never bothered me, but if this is what you wanna do, you have my full support.”

You’re dancing around one another in the kitchen, relishing in one of the rare nights you’re able to share and cook together. It’s one of the things you love to do together.

Trying out a new recipe is a whole event. David treasures these little cooking events for a number of reasons.

Growing up as a child, food was scarce in his household. He had lived off of expired Wonder bread and peanut butter for a good long while until he was caught stealing food from the school’s cafeteria – the leading factor that eventually led to Child Protective Services escorting him to Huntington’s Boys home where he had spent the following 6 years.

The Boys Home wasn’t exactly any paradise either. His neglectful and drunken excuse for a father might not have been around to starve him, but he still had to fend for himself.

As a single, grown man working law enforcement, the most elaborate dish he learned to make was boxed pasta with canned tomato sauce. He was content with that until you came into the picture.

The first time he invited you over for dinner, he forgot he only had half empty ketchup and mustard, soy sauce packets, a couple beers and day-old Chinese takeout along with other scattered ingredients that couldn’t be combine to make a dish for one. So, he stuck to what he knew: pasta and tomato sauce.

He’ll never forget how cute you were, trying to lie and tell him it was great. He knew it was awful. If his far-from-sophisticated palate could taste it, he had no doubt you could taste it.

You laughed it off over a pizza that night, but he still likes to joke that you kept coming back for more.

One of the main reasons he looks so forward to these events is because he gets to be with you.

Most nights when he comes home, you’re asleep in bed and he doesn’t want to wake you. Although sometimes, you’ll stir from his presence and stay a couple extras hours to enjoy some adult fun.

There’s just something to soothing to him about watching you cook. He admires every single movement. The way your tongue pokes out as you carefully slice with a sharp knife. The way your hips sway to music that plays only in your head. The way your breasts jiggle when you whisk. That’s his personal favorite and also why he loves it when you bake.

“You really mean that? I might get a little cranky though. Or so I’ve heard” he smiles over at you as he dices fresh garlic.

“Yeah, babe. Of course,” your smile melts his heart every time. “Why the sudden change though? I thought you loved smoking?”

“Well, I love you more and I wanna be alive to spend more time with you.”

“Be still, my beating heart” you grin, surprised and lean up into him for a quick kiss. “That’s very sweet. I support you even more for that. And, if there’s anything I can do to help, I’m more than happy.”

Your voice shakes as you whisk the bowl of eggs for the omelet.

“Well,” he smirks standing behind with his arms wrapped your hip as his eyes lower to peak down at your jiggling cleavage. “I could think of a couple things you could do to help.”

David arrives at the police station – along with a few unit cars to accompany the transportation of the large sum of money - located in Conyers’s neighboring town. It’s much larger than the one where he works and heavily protected, with more law enforcement and advanced security system since the evidence room is shared with neighboring towns.

As David makes his way to the evidence room, Mike quietly thanks God that his boss let him in on the situation once the call from O’Malley came in. Of course, he already knew about everything, but he had to act like he didn’t and that was the hardest thing he’s ever done.

It’s clear from David’s disheveled appearance that he’s at his wits end and hanging on by a thread. He knows David’s always had an intimidating brooding look to his nature, but he looks ready to kill as he marches down the hall.

Mike’s never been afraid of David before, despite David’s rebellious past, but the determination in David’s dark eyes has a chill running up Mike’s spine as he approaches.

They don’t waste time with small talk. Mike tries to ask him how he’s holding up, but David doesn’t answer. Instead, he confirms the money and hands one of the duffel bags to the police officer next to him. He’s all business and that’s all he can muster for now.

Mike isn’t sure of what to say to him. He knows no amount of words in all the languages in the world can ease his pain, but it does hurt to see David suffer this way. So, he doesn’t say anything. He stays quiet as David opens and checks the bags.

He thanks his friend in a curt manner and heads back down the hallway, making a mental note to invite him out for a beer to apologize for his attitude. He hopes Mike can understand his impatience for small talk. He’s too concerned with your well-being that he isn’t even certain if it is well after all.

Once the money’s picked up, his car rolls to a stop at the old abandoned mill by the river. With a couple new packs of cigarettes, he sits in his car waiting for the time to pass. One cigarette after another, he smokes as he thinks over every possible outcome of this ‘deal’.

He trusts the plan he and his co-workers concocted, but that’s not what he’s worried about.

Anything could go wrong. It’s such a shot in the dark and he hates that he can’t predict anything. Everything is so uncertain and he can’t remember the last time he felt this terrified.

Taking the hidden picture from his pocket, he holds it against the steering wheel while his other hand hangs from the window with a cigarette dangling between his fingers.

David would gladly give his own life to save yours. He’d switch places with you in a heartbeat if he could. You don’t deserve to get caught up in his mess, in the wicked ways of his world.

What if you are alive and he’s able to get you back? Where will you go from there?

Even if you do decide to stay with him, there could be a possibility this happens again. The guilt will forever linger him when he thinks back on this and he knows he’ll never forgive himself.

Despite the love he has for you, he wonders if you would be safer away from him. Now, he’s almost certain you would.

This is why he shut himself off from the dating scene. This is why he wanted to avoid this vulnerability in the first place. Innocent loved one get hurt because of his job and he doesn’t know if he can live with that.

Time takes forever to fly by. Every minute is crucially grueling to him. Alone in his car, he finally breaks down in cathartic tears. All the anguish he’s been holding inside finally floods out.

As the day darkens, he hardens his heart bracing himself for what may come. Once he finally got all those tears out, a numbness overcame him. He sits, dragging the smoke into the shell that he’s become, void of all emotions.

[littleadaline]

Not An Ache [F.T7]

Warnings: 🤰🤰

Word count: 2.08k

A/N: yall know the resemblance between Joe and this piece of work? They’re both sloppy (sloppy Joe) 🙈🙊

————————————————————————

“Do you see yourself with kids? I mean, unless you and Ferran haven’t brought up the subject yet.” Sara Gündogan asked you as she sipped on her coffee. You had made it a tradition to meet with her for coffee on Saturdays, taking the opportunity to catch up on each other’s lives.

“We have talked about it, and we’re both into the idea. But just can’t seem to agree on a… timeline? I mean, he’s not pressuring me or anything, but he wants to start soon and I’d rather wait a few more years. I finally got promoted at work and it feels as if everything I have dreamed of was finally given to me. I just want the opportunity to soak it all up.” You stirred your coffee, your attention diverting to the kids on the playground.

“I get it. Remember, you should never be rushed into this, the both of you should take your time into thinking about this.” She reassured you. The rest of your morning went by smoothly, with your coffee date ending before 12, leaving you plenty of time to run to the grocery store for some quick errands. As you were about to check out, a small voice in your head begged for mustard. Leaving your items with a confused cashier, you ran to get the mustard before coming back to pay for your items. Pulling into yours and Ferran’s house, you noticed his parked car in the driveway. Collecting the bags from the trunk, you waddled home. Inside, it was fairly quiet, the faint sound of the shower being heard across the open space. As usual, Ferran’s sports bag was left unattended near the entryway, tripping you as you came in.

“Puta madre.” You mumbled, massaging your knee. Mumbling under your breath, you didn’t hear Ferran come into the room.

“Lemme take care of this.” He grabbed the bag and walked into the laundry room. You collected the rest of the groceries and unloaded the bags before settling on the couch, a blanket covering you. In that short second he had come and gone, your body did a 180º. You felt chills run across your body, your legs losing strength by the second. Ferran came back into the room, dressed in a t-shirt and some shorts. While you both disagreed on the temperature of the house, it was the first time Ferran had seen you entirely engulfed by a blanket, your coat still on.

“Bebe are you cold? Are you feeling sick?” Ferran brought a hand to your forehead, feeling for fever.

Underneath the blanket, you felt like 1 million degrees, thick beads of sweat rolling from your forehead and onto your back. The air was suddenly thicker than usual, and the smell of Ferran’s body wash made you queasy. Everything felt brighter, louder; Ferran’s words stuck to your ears. Your body was going into sensory overload… Recognizing an all too familiar feeling, you pushed Ferran’s body out of the way before you ran to the bathroom. Emptying the content of your coffee date, you clutched at the trash can as you sobbed. Ferran barged right behind you, putting your hair into a bun.

“Let’s get this off.” He took off your coat, throwing it in the laundry bin. You heard the closet open and the faucet run before you felt the cold towel across your face. “Let it out my love. Breathe in.” Ferran calmed you down. He held you as you shivered, getting off the remaining vomit with the towel before throwing it into the same pile as your coat. You stayed into his arms until you calmed down. “Let’s get you into something comfortable.” Ferran took your hand.

Upstairs, he sat you on the bed as he rummaged for one of his hoodies and basketball shorts, which he knew you liked to steal whenever he was playing away. Handing you the clothes, Ferran closed the blinds, allowing for full darkness to take over the room.

“I’ll go make you some tea for your stomach.” He left you alone in the room with your racing thoughts.

A few minutes went by before you heard the familiar sound of his slides on the stairs. The door opened and Ferran came in the room with a cup of tea and anti-nausea medication.

“Medication’s for later,” He said, realizing you were staring at the little beige pill. “What did you have for brunch today?” He asked as he settled under the covers with you, his head on your chest.

“Um… A coffee with oat cream and a raspberry danish. Nothing unusual.”

“Must be a stomach bug or something. At least you’ve gotten it all out. You should just rest up. I’ll take care of supper today.” With that, Ferran left you to rest. You had finally closed your eyes when the sensory overload kicked in again.

“Ferran!” You called out for him in a shaky voice.

Upon hearing your voice, Ferran dropped the vegetables and ran upstairs, and into the room. He found you rolled up on the bed, thick beads of sweat running across your forehead.

“Hold on tight, I’m gonna pick you up.” Ferran scooped you up and brought you to the bathroom, sitting down on the floor with you. He handed you the trash can as you emptied out your stomach for a second time, rubbing your back in an attempt to comfort you. The room was silent, except for your sobs and heavy breathing. Ferran’s heart broke at the sight of you sitting down like this. You heard him get up before grabbing another towel and wetting it. He knelt in front of you, gently wiping your face. You looked at him through your eyelashes, your heart swooning at his features. His eyelashes, the shape of his lips, his bambi eyes… you loved him so much.

“Let’s get you on the couch instead. I need to be near in case this happens again.” He rubbed your cheek with his thumbs, wiping away the remaining tears. Too weak to speak, you simply nodded, holding on to his neck as he picked you up. Settled on the couch, Ferran brought you your cup of tea as well as a water bottle. He tucked you in before getting back to his cooking duties, in which he had found a new joy. Hours passed and you were still peacefully asleep on the couch, your breathing stable and regular.

Waking up from your much needed nap, you walked into the kitchen. Your body had woken up with a strong craving for mustard. Squirting the condiment onto the spoon, you sighed in delight as you ate it. In the doorway of the kitchen a perplexed Ferran was staring at you.

“Oye, what are you doing?” He took the bottle of mustard away, earning a frown from you. “You just threw up, I doubt the best thing for you to eat is mustard. Also, you hate mustard with a passion.” He questioned you.

“I had a craving. Do we have chocolate chips?” You asked him innocently.

“Yes we do, in the bottom shelf of the pantr-” Ferran interrupted himself. “Why am I telling you? You’re not supposed to eat this. Get back on the couch and eat some soup. It’s chicken and noodle.” Ferran could feel himself grow tired. You sighed as Ferran sent you back to the couch, putting away the mustard in the fridge. Sitting next to you on the couch, Ferran could feel your restlessness.

“Oye, what has gotten into you today?” He barely worded out before you straddled his lap, slowly leaving sloppy kisses on his neck. Your body was on fire and Ferran’s touch was the only way to extinguish the fire burning inside of you. Ferran slowly put you down on the couch. “Nena I’d love to take care of you in that sense, but you were sick a few hours ago. I just want you to rest.”

With that, Ferran carried you to bed after helping you with your nighttime routine. It was around 6 A.M when you woke up gasping for air, feeling as if something was preventing you from fully breathing.

“Ferran wake up. Ferran,” You shook his arm, violently pulling him out of his slumber. “I think I’m gonna throw up again.”

“Joder, mi amor, ¿qué te pasa?” He sleepily put on his shirt and led you to the bathroom. He sat you down on the floor as he went to retrieve your water bottle and a towel. You texted Sara, who had an early morning flight.

[TO: The superior Gündogan]:

Been throwing up since yesterday. I’m exhausted. Send help lol

[FROM: The superior Gündogan]:

I’m so sorry my love :( Drink lots of water and have some yogurt.

[TO: The superior Gündogan]:

Yeah, and I even bought mustard at the grocery store yesterday… and I don’t even like it. Don’t get me started on how I climbed on Ferran after supper.

[FROM: The superior Gündogan]:

You don’t think…

[TO: The superior Gündogan]:

What?

[FROM: The superior Gündogan]:

🤰🤰🤰

You had been evading the possibility of being pregnant with Ferran’s child, especially considering the irony of your conversation with Sara the day before. You reached for the cupboard where you stashed the pregnancy tests, in the eventual case you and Ferran would start trying. Frantically tearing the plastic from the test, you sat down on the toilet and let your bladder go. Right at this moment, Ferran walked back in into the room.

“Que haces?” He said, taking the pregnancy test box in his hand. “Do you think you’re pregnant? I mean we haven’t done it unprotected except… fuck, your parents’ dinner back in December.” Realization hit him. “Pee faster.”

“Ferran, either get out or be quiet.” The stress took over you. You cleaned yourself up and put back the test in its packaging before washing your hands. You set your timer for 3 minutes and sat down on the floor. Ferran followed suit.

“Hey, hey, positive or not, everything is gonna be okay.” Ferran could see the tears bordering your eyes. He scooted closer, holding you in his arms. You stayed in this position until the timer ran out, a harsh alarm bringing you back to reality. “Do you want me to take a look?”

“I’ll do it,” you shakily got up. “Ferran… Can you please hold my hand?” You pleaded.

“Anytime.” Ferran gently took your hand, tracing over your palm with his thumb. You took the test out of the packaging, looking one last time at your boyfriend.

Pregnant

You buried your head in his chest, violently sobbing.

“We’re having a baby, amor. We’re having a baby.” You said, the last sentence coming out as a whisper.

Ferran’s heart exploded with joy upon hearing your words. He tightened his hold on you. He hadn’t thought of starting a family until he met you. He let out a tear, then two, and finally the dam broke.

“Aye mi amor. Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He said, peppering your face with kisses. You stayed in each others’ arms for a few minutes trying to come to realization with the next chapter of your lives.

“We’re having a baby.” He cooed. “I feel like telling the whole world. Screaming atop of rooftops.” Ferran chuckled as he knelt down to your abdomen. “Hola mini tiburón. I’m your dada, and your mom and I can’t wait to shower you with love.” He finished with a kiss to your bellybutton.

That night, the two of you barely slept. Ferran was already going through daycare lists, disapproving those that didn’t have any outside playgrounds. He had already sent you nursery models, stating “I’d purposefully injure myself and be out for a few weeks if it means I get to start on the nursery”. You, on the other side, hadn’t taken off your hand from your stomach. You were still processing the news, but above all, you were extremely grateful to have Ferran on your side, and as the kid’s dad.

“Good night my love. And good night, Carlota Míriam Torres.” Ferran said as he pressed a kiss to your lips and then to your stomach.

“Already got a name?” You asked him teasingly?

“You don’t understand how long I have been waiting for this day to come.” He said tearfully.

[tayas-words]

Seduce Me The Otome Head Canons edition!

I have a Geology Mid term tmr morning…am I studying? No, I’m writing out my headcanons about a game that’s about sex demons.

James

- Despite how dominant he is, there are very rare times where he lets himself be vulnerable with Mika. While they’re watching a movie sometimes he’ll lay his head on her lap and let her rub his scalp to help him relax.

- He likes action movies

- He really likes Halloween, he sees it as a way to be whatever he wanted to be, because of how he was forced to be the perfect prince for his father.

- in the demon world, James would find Damien after he managed to escape his father and sit in silence with him, allowing Damien to speak with him in his mind.

- He’s really good at sewing

- His first child is a boy which scares him, scared he’ll fuck up

Erik

- Really likes to read fantasy books

-really likes horror movies, he likes to laugh at how stupid people are in them

- enjoys things like fall festivals, he likes being able to walk around the stalls and smell all the cinnamon and Caramel apples

- everytime Mika would turn his flirting down he does the damsel in distress move where he puts his hand on his forehead and one on his heart and goes “oh how you wound me.”

- he knows how to play the flute really well

- one time he walked in on Mika having a sad day and she was watching old Barbie movies (he walked in on fashion fairytale) and it has become his guilty pleasure.

Sam

- EXTREMELY affectionate towards Mika when it’s either just the two of them or just around the mansion

- guilty pleasure is he actually likes rom-coms but will never admit it, only one that knows it is Damien

- he loves burgers BUT he won’t eat any vegetables on his burgers, only bacon cheese and mustard.

- car man, he knows how to fix cars and do oil changes and all that stuff

- when he gets anxious, he’ll take his chain off and put it on his finger and spin it around

- even though he’s really bad at it, he loves to dance with Mika. They’ll be in the kitchen and Sam will turn on some random music and they’ll start dancing

Matthew

- he has a love hate relationship with horror games, especially when he knows his brothers are home, they’ve all scared him while he was sitting in his and Damien’s room so he now locks the door

- he loves creating decorations for the house during Halloween and Christmas

- while him and James are both amazing in the kitchen (and I mean everywhere else too), Matthew is better with dessert than actual food foods

- his favourite thing to make Mika whenever she’s upset or something, is either some sort of cheesecake or apple crisp

- even tho he hates Simon Tabby, there’s a drawer in his dresser that has a little bed in it for him

- he loves cats

Damien (my favourite)

- once he’s comfortable with Mika, he’s not as quiet as he was before (especially when it comes to flirting)

- he becomes good at sewing

- he’s actually really good at painting and photography

- he is the BEST hider in hide and seek

- Halloween is the only time he ever let his demon form out (he still wore clothes dw)

- he got Mika to teach him the stuff she was learning at school (well got her to teach him from like grade primary up to her level)

[chapel-of-rizztual]

Ghouls Headcanons 4

dew once drank gasoline and kept coughing flames to scare the shit out of copia. He scare the shit out of everyone and almost burnt have the ministry down. Sunny tried to use him as a flame thrower.

There a hole in the wall in the common room from where Swiss fell through while he was drunk. They told sister it’s been patched up. They are filthy liars.

All ghouls watch and love baby sensory videos. It’s one of the only ways to keep them calm and quiet. It’s also one of the only ways to keep them distracted. The dancing fruit one works the best.

Sunshine bought a motorcycle with the ministry credit card. She got in a lot of trouble with sister because of it. She blamed it on copia. She also bought aether one so they can go on joyrides together.

Mountain eats rocks. Will just straight up pick rocks up off the ground and crunch down on them. He says he like the crunch. He’s not allowed to have crystals anymore because they’re like candy to him. Don’t ask him about the teeth marks in the granite work surfaces in the kitchen, it wasn’t him.

Aether needs glasses to read. All of the other ghouls find it incredibly attractive.

Sunshine, Swiss and dew are known as the terror triple around the ministry. They are not allowed to be left unsupervised together. They are banned from using cleaning supplies because they tired to make mustard gas. They peed in the gas tanks of all cars that the ministry own. They tried to make a bomb in a toilet. Not a big one they just thought it would be funny if the all water systems were broken at the same time. Thankfully they were unsuccessful.

Birds, rabbits and deer and the number 1 distraction to ghouls (apart from themselves).

They will stand at any window, staring intently at the small creatures, ears high, tails swishing and pupils blown wide while chittering and chirping to each other while

Swiss can’t be trusted with laundry detergent. He drinks it like it’s a smoothie.

Ghouls can’t dream. Something about them not having souls makes them unable to.

Mountain has terrible posture from having to duck down through doorways and lean down to talk to people. Cirrus always rubs his back for him to help.

Cumulus makes the best tiramisu ever. She’s famous for it around the ministry.

Special lives in the basement of the ministry and is the biggest gossip ever. If he’s bored he’ll make something just to see the drama unfold.

Nobody knows but cowbell lives in the basement with special. Everyone thinks he got sent back to the pits.

Aether has never sat through a full movie. He always falls asleep about halfway through. Especially if he’s in the middle of a cuddle pile.

Dew walks around with his hand in someone else’s pocket. Jean pocket, coat pocket, shirt pocket, front or back it doesn’t matter to him he’s wiggling his hand in there.

Rains favourite tv show is friends. He’s had it on repeat since he was summoned. His favourite character is joey because he reminds him of Swiss.

Ghouls have their own language that only ghouls understand. They only speak it around each other in private. They prefer to speak their papas native tongue or English around anyone else.

Rain and mountain watch my neighbour totoro together every Friday night without fail. Sometimes cirrus and cumulus join them.

Aether likes to eat bath bombs. He likes the way they fizz on his tongue. He’s gotten banned from every lush store he’s been in.

Cirrus drinks perfume. She says it smells nice so why would it taste bad. She’s surprised every time when it’s awful.

None of the ghouls can handle caffeine.

When dew was first summoned he was terrified of snow.

All of the ghouls are incredible at Mario cart. Especially cumulus and rain. They fight for first place all the time. Swiss is undefeated at just dance.

Dew and rain completely switch personalities when they’re off stage.

Cumulus does a face mask almost every night and dew and Swiss try to lick it off her every time without fail.

All ghouls are banned from playing among us. No explanation needed you already why.