#checkered flooring ideas

[inthemixtokyo]

Kitchen - Great Room A mid-sized traditional u-shaped kitchen with a dark wood floor and stainless steel appliances, white cabinets, a gray backsplash, shaker cabinets, granite countertops, and a stone tile backsplash is an example.

[departmentofinteriors]

[oldfarmhouse]

https://www.instagram.com.farrowandball

[wilwheaton]

For some odd reason, moderator Jake Tapper told Trump in the beginning that he didn't need to answer the questions and that he could use the time however he wanted. Trump ran with that, essentially giving a rally speech whenever he had the floor and was unresponsive to the vast majority of the questions. He made faces and insulted Biden to his face, at one point calling him a criminal and a Manchurian candidate. If anyone had said 10 years ago that this would happen at a presidential debate they would have been laughed out of the room. After the debate when most of the country had turned off cable news or gone to bed, CNN aired its fact check. [...] Even had Joe Biden been at the top of his game, he would not have been able to parry all those lies and he shouldn't have been put in the role of being Donald Trump's fact checker. His choice was to either ignore the lies and let them stand so he could use his time to make his own case or spend the entire debate correcting the record. It was not a fair fight. It's obvious that Biden's terrible performance has caused panic among Democrats and liberal pundits and analysts. The calls for him to withdraw are loud and meaningful and it's going to be a very rough period in this campaign whatever happens. For me, this isn't really a question. As long as Donald Trump is on the ballot, I will vote for the Democratic nominee. If it's Biden or someone else, the calculation remains the same. Nothing is worse than another Trump administration and I suspect that at the end of the day Democratic voters will agree with that. So it's still a matter of those undecided voters in swing states, just like it was on Thursday morning.

CNN's debate was no fair fight

CNN, yet again, gave Trump a national stage to vomit an endless stream of unchecked lies, and today, CNN is telling itself and anyone who will listen that the network and its moderators did a great job. That’s just plainly false, and America is paying the price for their failure.

That doesn’t let Biden off the hook. Biden had a terrible night. He was so bad, it’s allowed the political press to completely ignore not just how much Trump lied, but what he lied about: January 6, all his indictments, his Covid response, and on and on. President Biden was a disaster, and his campaign should be at DefCon 1 to try and repair all the damage. I am terrified that his awful performance will obscure his surprisingly good record and leadership in the post-insurrection era, and give the political press an excuse to run with “Biden is old” in the face of Trump’s endless lies, his felony convictions, his pending trials, and all of his criminality. Someone at Salon said that Trump didn’t win, but Biden absolutely lost. I can’t argue with that, even if the facts are all on Biden’s side.

I’ve seen President Biden on TV today, and even last night after the debate, where he didn’t come across as an ancient dude who needs a walker on his way to some Matlock reruns. He looks and sounds like the SOTU Biden we all expected would show up last night. I have no idea why he was so awful for 99% of the debate (the campaign says he has a cold), and I have no idea why the guy who is showing up to speak to supporters today, and who delivered the SOTU didn’t show up last night to save America from Trump, again.

But we have to live with this reality now, and I hope like hell that the Biden campaign, the candidate, and the entire Democratic party apparatus scrambles like fucking crazy to get all hands on deck to fix this, and remind voters that

This isn’t about BIden vs. Trump. This is about America vs. Project 2025.

There will be no second debate where Biden can try to salvage something out of the wreckage of this one. Trump has everything to lose and nothing to gain. Trump will crow about how he won, and declare he has no reason to debate again, and he’s right. Biden had one shot and he absolutely blew it. The moderators did not help, but the campaign had to have known they wouldn’t, and it sure looks like they didn’t prepare Biden for what we all knew was coming. I don’t know how those same people stop the bleeding, and if they can’t, America and the world are in real, real trouble.

But we all have to remember that we have a choice to make in just a few months. Right now, and probably on election day, the choice is between Joe Biden and Democracy, or Donald Trump and Fascism. It’s stark, it’s clear, it’s binary, and I can not believe that it is even a question. I just hope that there are enough voters out there who will understand that we do have a choice. The options suck, but we do have a choice.

Please choose Democracy. Please choose America. Please choose the future world our children will inherit from us.

[amazinglyashy]

I feel like Luke and Kieran are the absolute best for having a good time. Like, every form of ridiculous entertainment will come up when you're involved with the two of them.

They make you play human-and-pillow-checkers on Sylus's black and white tile floor.

If you look down, they will group hug you in a twin-sandwich.

"HAPPY SQUEEZE! SQUEEEEEEZE"

They have brought you a very illegal gun while also showing you a very alive kitten they found outside your apartment, and do you want to keep it otherwise we will give it to our boss.

Keeping the gun is not optional.

You go to Kieran when you need advice. You go to Luke when you need party ideas. You go to both when you hear that Mephisto told them someone upset you and you need to stop them before they kill sOMEON-

Kieran helps you dye your hair if you like fashion colors, Luke will make a playlist on your shared Spotify family account full of inappropriate songs to play randomly around Sylus's house later.

They love you chaotically and wholly, no matter which way you want to view it, and there's nothing you can say to change my mind.

[only-luce-the-goose]

The Prank

A/N: my first formula fic!! My requests are open if you have someone you want me to write for!

Arthur Leclerc x Norris Reader

Trope: Dumbasses (best friends to lovers)

Warnings: Swearing, kissing, nothing else really

This is based of something I was on Twitter (I refuse to call it X): person a says “I came up with a good prank”. Person b asks what it is, a says “we should kiss”. B says “I don’t get it”, a says “imagine them walking in to see us kissing and just being like “WHAAAAAT??” B says “oh, that’s hilarious. We totally should”

Synopsis: You and Arthur have been best friends since he saved you from a bully when you were kids. You grew up in the Leclerc household, so they knew you very well. You followed Arthur around the world for his racing career. You guys had been given the nickname "Terrible Two's" for all the pranks you pulled around the paddock. Sometimes you pulled them on each other, sometimes you teamed up and pulled pranks together but there was one prank that really topped off the rest of your pranks.

"Y/N!!!" Arthur shouted from the shower in your shared bedroom. He walked out as you hit record on your phone, filming as he appeared. He had his towel wrapped dangerously low around his waist, his hair was dyed a deep red with remnants of the dye dripping down his chest. "Seriously?" he scolded "I have to go to the Ferrari pit tomorrow and my hair is bright red!" You could see the fury in his eyes as you laughed. "Yeahhhh, you're gonna be matching the cars". He crossed his arms over his muscly chest and scowled "Stop filming me, idiot" you rolled your eyes and chucked "Whatever, moron" you said as you stopped recording. You posted it to your story, with the caption "Ready for @ scuderiaferrari tomorrow!" and tagged him in it.

You heard Arthur's phone buzz from the vanity in the bathroom as he headed back in to dry off. You stood up to pack up a bit from your day, getting as ready as you can for tomorrow. This time he came out in a pair of checkered sleep pants, saw you stand up in front of your suitcase and lunged at you, tackling you into the bed. You shrieked as he started assaulting (tickling) you. "St-st-op Art- arty" giggled out. "You turned me red, then posted it for the whole fucking world to see. You deserve this" After successfully kicking him onto the floor, you noticed your phone vibrating in your pocket.

You swiped accept on the call as you answered "Ah, my favourite Leclerc brother. What can I do for you Charlie?" You heard Arthur shout and "Oi" from the floor, making Charles laugh. "I just needed to see Arthur's hair" he grinned. You flipped the camera around and showed a Shirtless, red-haired Arthur lying on his back on the ground. Charles burst out laughing "good to see the support, brother" he got out in between laughter. "I'll leave you to whatever you're doing, y/n. Thank you so much for Arthur's hair" he chuckled as you said goodbye and he hung up. You leaned over the side of the bed, making eye contact with the boy on the floor "wanna get Charles tomorrow?" you asked him. "The day I say no is the day the world ends" he replies. You laughed as you rolled under your covers, Arthur standing up and getting into the bed next to yours, agreeing to come up with the prank tomorrow.

I was lying awake in bed, I couldn’t sleep. All I could think about was how Arthur came out of the shower earlier, his glorious torso on display, towel so low you could see his v-line. All I wanted to do was go over and kiss him silly, he’s so hot when he’s cranky. My crush on his has lasted years and he has no idea. I couldn’t ever tell him, it would ruin our friendship and I don’t ever want to lose him. If we’re friends forever then so be it. I put my earbuds in and put on a good playlist, drifting off to my favourite song.

I woke up the next morning with a crushing weight on my chest and hair tickling my nose. It wasn’t until I felt the fingers tickling my ribs thats I started wriggling around, trying to get the giant on my body. “Arty what the fuck” I grumbled “I was having a really good sleep you prick”. He chuckled and rolled off me, lying next to me a pulling me body into his. I looked up, nearly bumping his nose with mine. I was really hoping he couldn’t feel how fast my heart was beating. “We have a prank to plan”

After you finished getting ready, you hopping in the car with Arthur and headed towards the paddock, brainstorming pranks in the car. “I came up with a brilliant one” Arthur tells you. “Ooo what is it?” My curiosity peaked. We haven’t been able to think of any good ones for Charles all morning. “We should kiss” he said nonchalantly. If I had a drink I would have choked on it, instead I stuck to internally freaking out while my heart started beating out of my chest. “Umm what? I don’t get it. How is that a good prank?” I stutter.

Arthur laughs “just think about it. He walks into his drivers room to find his younger brother and childhood best friend making out, our hands all over each other. You could sit on my lap and we could really go to town, Charles would walk in and freak out. He might even faint!” It hurt a little to think that Arthur only wanted to kiss me for a pranks, but there ain’t no way I’m passing up and opportunity to kiss my crush, even if it isn’t supposed to mean anything.

“Ohhh I get it, that’s would be fucking hilarious. We just have to time it really well and make sure no one sees us go in there” I add on. Arthur agrees “that’s it then, the perfect prank” I chuckle at his declaration. We pull up the paddock, scan our passes and make our way in, making small talk with people but never straying too far from each other.

We saw Charles doing some media before he needed to go in and change into his fireproofs and race suits. I tapped on Arthur’s and should and pointed at his brother, explaining my thinking. I agreed and we rushed inside the Ferrari garage, making our way to the drivers room. I hung around the front of it, keeping an eye out Charles so we could start making out at the perfect time.

A huge group of people made their way, signalling that Charles was moving closer. You could hear him and Carlos talking about the track as they came closer. I quickly slipped into his drivers room, finding Arthur already sitting on the bench. I walked over to him as he patted his lap, “hang on” I semi whispered. I could hear that Charles and Carlos had stopped walking, they couldn’t have been too far from the doors. Once I could hear Charles getting louder I looked back at Arthur, “you ready Arty?” I asked. He nodded and pulled me into his lap.

I moved me knees to go on their side of this body, my right hand slide to the back of neck, sliding my hand though his hair and I grabbed a handful of his fluffy hair. My left hand sling around his broad shoulders. His left hand dipped under my shirt to hold my waist, his other hand wound around my neck. He offered me a kind smile as he used the hand around my back to guide me towards his lips.

It started with small pecks, quickly moving to Arthur slipping his tongue into my mouth, exploring while he got the opportunity. Moved myself closer to him, gripping his hair harder which caused him to let out a low moan. I heard the door to the driver room open as I kept making out with my best friend. The hand around my neck moved to ass, moving me to grind on him a bit.

Charles and Carlos stood in the doorway, dumbfounded before Carlos turned to Charles and said “told you they had a thing for each other, cabrõn” and walked off. Charles stared at his friend as he walked off. He looked back at us, still making out as he walked in. He slammed the door shut, making us jump. “What the fuck is going on? Why are you making out? Why are you doing it in my drive room? Oh my god I need to sit down” he rambled.

I got off Arthur as we started cackling, Arthur turned to me and said “told you it was a good prank, he’s absolutely freaking out” I laughed and looked back at Charles. He looked at us like we just old him Santa wasn’t real. “Wait, this is a prank?” He asked as we nodded “I thought I wouldn’t have to listen to Arthur whine about you anymore y/n but this is going to make it so much worse” I was about to ask something when Arthur grabbed my arm and dragged me out.

Once we got outside the garage I stopped Arthur. “Hang on, Arty. Just stop for a second” he stared at the floor. “What did Charles mean when he said you were whining about me?” I asked him. He tried to deflect the question and walk off. I grabbed his hand, turning him to me and lifting his head the make eye contact with me, asking my question again.

Arthur sighed, putting his hands on either side of my face and kissed me. It wasn’t desperate like the previous make out. It was slow and loving. “I don’t really know to say this, now that Charles has outed me, but I’ve liked you for years. The more than best friends kinda like. The reason I came up with that kissing prank was to get the chance to kiss you, even if it is supposed to be to mean nothing.”

Arthur kept rambling, struggling make eye contact. He looked at him, then smashed your lips into his “I like you more than I best friend should too. I have for years” you smile against Arthur’s lips as he kissed you.

[talesofesther]

what once was mine | ch 1

Loki x Reader

Summary: When watching what once was supposed to be the rest of his life, in an empty room in the TVA, Loki sees someone he can't recognize; a girl who's all tenderness and loose smiles, and most importantly, she was smiling at him.

A/N: A long overdue mini-series for one of my favorite characters of all time. I had this idea when season one of Loki first came out, but never got to writing it, and now with season two coming, I decided to finally do it. There are two important things that need to be said before we head into it though; firstly and most importantly, I will not be following the show's plot at all, this story will only be focusing on the relationship between Loki and the reader, after all that's what it is about and I don't want it to be unnecessarily huge; secondly, this story will be mostly told in moments, which means that not every single scene happening between the characters will be written down in length. Lastly, I do hope you can all enjoy it. <3

Masterlist

Things felt worthless. Everything suddenly seemed unimportant. His whole life, everything he knew, felt small and frail. Because here, infinity stones were mere paperweights.

Loki scoffed as he pushed himself up from the floor, one hand coming up to tug at the collar still wrapped around his neck. This place made him feel as if his brain was melting, it was all too much, too sudden—sacred timeline, variants. A sense of utter helplessness started to weigh heavily in the pit of his stomach.

Yet he couldn't hold himself back from sitting at the single table in the middle of the dim-lit room. The checkered image of the Avengers right in front of him seemed to be taunting him.

This was still the same day, right?

Or maybe not, Loki wasn't certain anymore; it sure didn't feel like the same day.

For a split second, as he looked down at the red, round device resting on top of the table, he thought about how everything here looked so old-fashioned. It was almost ironic, for a place out of time.

Loki couldn't help himself. His curiosity got the best of him eventually. But if anyone had their whole life just a click away, they'd probably do the same.

So he watched, through glimpses passing on a screen, a life that was supposed to be his. He watched his mother die, and then his father; he watched as Thor called him a brother with a smile on his face again, and as they made earth a new home for Asgard. Loki's eyes were already a pool of tears as soon as his mother's lifeless body had appeared in front of him, they cascaded down his cheeks freely, leaving behind a damp path of a lifetime worth of mourning, now seen in less than a minute. The loss somehow felt greater, because now he wouldn't even have those moments to begin with.

But suddenly, amidst the moments of suffering and mistakes, an unfamiliar face appeared. She had a smile on her face most of the time, and even through the static of the image in front of him, Loki could clearly see the glint in her pupils, the crinkle beside her eyes. She was quite captivating, maybe that's why it took him a second to realize she was smiling at him.

A frown etched itself in Loki's eyebrows, he leaned forward on his chair as he pressed play again. Curiosity and... apprehension twirled wildly inside his stomach.

The moments with her were endless. Walks on the beach, shared ice creams, quiet nights watching a movie, dancing together in a dark kitchen, the golden rays of a sunset shining against her hair in a memory tucked away like a treasure; and even a moment of her talking with Tony Stark and the others, while her hand held tightly onto Loki's, the other Loki, that is. All of them looked futile, a simple existence Loki would never have considered fit for him; so why did these moments feel important?

Inside TVA's lonely room, Loki held his breath until his lungs ached. His heart was threatening to jump out of his chest and his eyes were stinging for a whole new reason. He could feel the shaking of his own hands. That look in her eyes, it was one of love, anyone who saw would know it. But the cause of the sudden lump in Loki's throat was the fact that this look was always directed at him. That love in her eyes, that smile on her lips; was for him.

Several minutes went by with him silently looking at the paused image of her on the checkered screen. A few stray tears rolled down his cheeks, and he wasn't sure why yet. If it was for the shock of learning that someone could love him this much; or because of the envy, the longing for something that wasn't even his, not really, he never got there after all.

There was a hole in his chest, a missing piece of something he never had. Loki didn't even know her name, yet a part of him was screaming it anyway.

He eventually moved on, and almost threw up when he watched Thanos take his life from him. Loki watched his brother cry over his lifeless body, yet he wasn't seeing her.

And despite the boatload of information thrown at him, the questions clouding his mind were only; who is she? Where is she?

Lost. Loki felt more lost than he probably ever did in his entire life. He had just watched what was supposed to be the rest of his life, yet... it wouldn't be. So what now?

He sat down on the small stairs of the room, burying his head in his hands.

And then there was this girl; smiling and laughing and holding his hand as if he had been the best thing to ever happen to her. This feeling, warm and heavy, squeezing Loki's heart, was a foreign one—he couldn't quite place why that look of pure adoration in her eyes was directed at him.

He needed to know who she was. He needed to find her and ask her why. He needed to know what she was, or- would be to him.

The sudden sound of the door opening startled Loki, he watched as Mobius walked into the room, his steps overly cautious. "Loki? Nowhere left to run."

Gulping back a sob clawing its way through his throat, Loki took a deep breath. He slowly glanced up, voice calm and defeated as he asked a question he already knew the answer to; "I can't go back, can I?"

Mobius simply looked at him, his eyes holding some kind of sympathy as he spared Loki from hearing the truth out loud.

Loki pursed his lips, his gaze slowly trailed back to the screen on his left that again adorned a paused image of the mysterious girl. Her lips were turned up just slightly, dark sunglasses covered her eyes, and she held a slowly melting ice cream in one of her hands. "Who is she?" he asked quietly.

Placing his weapon on the table, Mobius let out a long sigh, "I was hoping you wouldn't ask about her."

The words made Loki snap his head towards him, a frown coming to his eyebrows immediately.

"She..." Mobius hesitated, "she is someone almost as annoying as you."

"That doesn't answer my question." Loki nearly sounded offended. He got up then, taking slow steps towards Mobius. "She seemed... important, yet I don't know who she is."

"I'm afraid you haven't met her yet."

"Then tell me who she is."

Mobius grimaced; "I don't think it's my place to say it."

"That's absurd," Loki scoffed, "it's my life we're talking about here."

"How about we help each other then, hm?" Mobius offered, and when Loki only frowned at him, he continued; "a fugitive Variant has been killing our Minutemen."

Loki narrowed his eyes. "And you need the God of Mischief to help you stop him?"

A small smirk came to Mobius' lips; "That's right. You help us stop him. I get you an opportunity to meet her and you can ask her whatever questions you want to know."

A meeting with someone didn't feel like much for his end of the bargain, but that same voice inside Loki was still screaming a name he didn't know how to spell. He had to know.

"Deal."

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 2 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3

You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.

Loki’s taglist:@milkiane @v1ci0us

[littlexdeaths]

older brother’s best friend eddie x fem reader

warnings: slight suggestiveness on eddie’s part, but also lots of tooth rotting fluff <3

it’s a recipe for disaster masterlist.

a/n: this takes place somewhere after the car troubles saga, but before the fake dating saga. based on this lovely request, i hope you like it my love! i appreciate your patience xx

“dude, you sound like fucking shit.”

you hear sid’s voice ring out loudly from the dining room.

you sit up, your inherent nosiness now quickly outweighing any desire to pay attention to the movie flashing across the television. so you carefully get up from the sofa and you peek your head around the corner into the dining room.

sid has his back to you, watching out the window while he continues to talk on the phone. wednesday nights were always slotted for band practice, so you knew it could be one of four people that he was talking to. you just hoped it wasn’t a certain curly haired lead guitarist on the other end.

wednesdays had quickly become your days together as well, once sid fell asleep that is.

your brother snorts but just shakes his head in response to whatever the person on the other line just said.

“nah, don’t worry about it, ed. i’ll see what the other guys wanna do, no need to infect the rest of us with your crap.” he laughs and your heart sinks a little.

so eddie wasn’t coming tonight.

while you feel a little disappointed, an idea suddenly comes to you. and your mind is already made up before sid can even finish hanging up the phone. you grab your keys and purse and hurry past him to the front door.

“hey! where the hell are you going in such a rush?” your brother calls while you slip on your sneakers.

“robin’s having really bad cramps, gotta get her some stuff.”

you’re a little shocked with how easily the lies and excuses come to you now, but you know it’s better than dealing with the reality of sid knowing.

“okay— too much info!” he says with a whistle before he picks the phone back up to call jeff.

you make it to the bradley’s big buy without any issues, besides a disapproving look from hopper as you flew past him on main street. you’re just grateful he was feeling nice today and didn’t pull you over.

as you push the squeaky cart through the aisles you begin to pile saltines, pedialyte and chicken noodle soup into the basket. paying extra mind to grab a couple packages of reese’s pieces and twizzlers on your way past the register.

two of his favorites.

during your short drive to forest hills trailer park, you can’t help the nerves from rumbling in your belly. would he be upset that you showed up unannounced? you didn’t think that was likely, but things were still so new between you. and you really don’t want to mess anything up.

but the look of delighted surprise that crosses his features when he opens the door has any lingering worries dissolving almost instantly. while he’s dressed in a pair of checkered pajama pants and a ratty old band tee— he still manages to take your breath away.

“surprise!” you mumble sheepishly.

“you know,” eddie grins, the tip of his finger tapping against his chin, “i don’t think i ordered a nurse?”

his small chuckle quickly morphs into a hacking cough, the male resting his body further against the doorframe. but the way he’s leaning against it is very reminiscent of that night your car broke down, the night that changed everything. only this time the sweat on his brow is from a fever and not the raging humidity.

“well lucky for you, i do house calls,” you tease, lightly brushing past him to enter the trailer.

eddie had set up camp in the living room, if the amount of tissues strewn about the floor were anything to go by.

“uh… sorry ‘bout the mess,” his already pink cheeks flush a shade darker while he quickly tries to tidy up. “—wasn’t expecting company.”

you can tell by his wobbly stance that he shouldn’t be up and moving around at all right now, so when he bends down again to grab more discarded tissues— you stop him.

“hey, don’t worry about that now, okay?” you reassure him, slipping your hand around his waist to guide him back towards his bedroom.

eddie all but deflates into your side, his mouth lifting into another grin when you reach the edge of his unmade bed.

“i see what’s going on here…” he hums, “trying to get me in bed before we’ve even been on a proper date.”

one of his palms slaps over his chest in mock horror as he flops down onto his mattress in the most dramatic, yet completely eddie-like manner imaginable.

“what kind of guy do you think i am, sweetheart?”

you roll your eyes fondly when he sits back up, eyebrows quirking up suggestively beneath his bangs.

“oh shame on me, we must keep that precious virtue of yours intact.” you giggle, letting him wrap his arm around your waist while he tucks you into the space between his thighs.

you can feel the overwhelming warmth radiating through the thin cotton of his shirt, and the beads of sweat beginning to trickle down his neck when you wrap your arms around him.

“please tell me you’ve been taking tylenol or something for this fever, eds.”

concern laces your tone, but you already know the answer by the way he peeks up at you under his lashes in feigned innocence.

“—uh… no.”

you let out a sigh before untangling yourself from him and he almost manages to follow you out of his room. but you are quick to turn on your heel and press a firm hand to his chest.

“nuh uh, mister. you need to lay down,” you scold, despite the pout adorning his features. “and that’s an order.”

eddie utters a soft, so bossy under his breath before he retreats back to his bed. you’re quick to rummage through the medicine cabinet in his bathroom until you find what you’re looking for. coming back to his room with a full glass of water and two tylenol in tow.

he tosses the pills back without any further argument, much to your relief. but the male immediately reaches for you again and you unwillingly slip through his fingers.

“nooo— where are you going now?” he all but whines.

you merely respond with a giggle as you slip out of his room, padding down the hall towards your bag of goodies you left near the front door. you snatch out the candy and pedialyte, and graciously clean up the rest of his tissues before making your way back towards his room.

eddie perks up at the sight of you, immediately pulling back the bedsheets and welcoming you in with open arms. you set your goodies down on his nightstand before sliding in next to him, the male completely enveloping you in his embrace.

“thank you.” he mutters softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

and truly, he means it.

eddie has spent most of his life fending for himself, so he’s not used to someone wanting to dote on him like this. but the fact that you were so willing to drop everything to come here and check on him — spoke volumes.

you carefully tilt your head up to glance at him, his soft chestnut hues meeting yours as he tucks comfortably into his side.

“anytime, eds.”

and you mean it too.

you spend the better part of the evening nursing him back to health, as much he’ll let you anyway. while eddie is beyond grateful that you’re willing to care for him like this, he’s just happy to be in your presence.

and he can’t deny he’s become quite attached to you in the short time you’d started seeing each other. so much so that when you finally get up to make him some dinner he all but clings to your side, despite your protests for him to go rest.

eddie is nothing if not stubborn, so he follows you into the small kitchen. keeping his arms wrapped securely around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder while you heat up a can of campbell’s chicken noodle soup.

but as much as he's enjoying the coddling in his current state, he draws the line at your attempts to spoon-feed him. it only leads to him playfully nipping at your fingers until he finally manages to sneak the utensil from your grasp.

with his belly fully and his fever beginning to break the two of you make your way back to his bedroom. slipping comfortably beneath the covers while you flip through the tv stations until you’ve settled on some old the price is right reruns.

eddie falls asleep not even five minutes after his head hits the pillow, soft snores tumbling from his plump lips. the utter picture of content. so you can’t help when your gaze quickly shifts from bob barker and the spinning wheel to his sleeping features.

you admire the way his long lashes fan across his freckled cheeks and the little scar on the slope of his nose that you’ve never noticed before. the way his lips are slightly chapped, but still kissable all the same. and when you lean up to press a soft peck to the corner of his mouth, he doesn’t even stir.

but as you snuggle yourself into his chest you miss the way his lips quirk up in a half smile, the male ultimately catching you in the act. eddie decides to say nothing as your breathing begins to slow and you drift off to sound of his steady heartbeat in your ears.

and later, when wayne returns home from work that evening to find you both entangled and sleeping soundly in his nephew’s bed, he just quietly shuts the door behind him with a knowing grin on his face.

series taglist: @nailbatanddungeon @devil-in-hiding @mugloversonly @eddiemunsonfuxks @munsonhoneybaby @alagalaska @creative1writings @missmarch-99 @stolen-in-moonlight @xxbimbobunnyxx @calumfmu @bastardstevie @prestinalove @indigosparkle444 @tlclick73 @hellfire--cult @take-everything-you-can @guiltyasquinn

let me know if you’d like to join the taglist!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Devil Wears Armani 1

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you're the CEO's new PA and you find the work too much to handle. (short!reader)

Characters: Tony Stark, this reader is known as Georgie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

The world stands still for Tony Stark but you run for him. You flit between the bodies on the street, hangers hooked in your fingers as the heavy suit bags bounces on your back. You’re breathless and dizzy as you get to the glass doors, nearly colliding with one as it opens from the other side. You clamour around it and apologise to the stranger that steps through. 

You check your watch as you hurry across the lobby. Ahead, you see the elevator filling up. No way. It’ll take forever with stops at every floor. You divert and head for the stairs. What’s a little more fire in your lungs? 

You burst through the door and scuff towards the first flight, barely keeping from shouldering the brick wall. You huff and puff your way up, feeling around your crossbody bag until you free your phone. Stark’s messages assure you that you’re not fast enough. You were warned about being run through your paces but you haven’t sat down in what feels like weeks. 

‘Suits. My Office. Now.’ 

His last message is fed up. You won’t offer excuses about the traffic or the dry cleaner losing the tags. You will just smile and accept the reprimand. That’s what the job is. Taking shit. You have no misconceptions left, not since Louise told you what happened to the last PA. You hope she’s in good therapy. You should look into some once your benefits kick in. 

You rush across the floor of desk, paying little mind to the paper that flutter in your stead or how the suit bags hit the edge of monitors. You can’t stop. Somehow, he’ll know if you do. 

You enter the hidden lobby where your desk sits guard to the CEO’s office and you gulp down humid breaths as you near his door. You knock furiously but don’t wait for the response. You push the handle with your elbow and lean into the door, scrambling through in victory. 

“Mr. Stark, your suits--” 

You stop short and the hangs fall as your fingers bend back too far and the suit bags slide down to your feet. Your eyes widen as Annabel’s crystal blue eyes roll up to meet yours as she lays across the desk, Mr. Stark’s silver-streaked hair over her chest as he buries his face in her cleavage, her dress pulled down just to the top of her ribcage. 

“Oh, gosh, sorry!” 

You put your hand up to block your view and bend to gather up the mess of dry cleaning. You swipe the bags up by the hooks of the hangers, spinning in a panic and fleeing back through the door. You snap it shut and race over to your desk.  

The round desk sits behind a ledge that hides all but your hairline from the few of visitors and other employees. The chair is set as high as it will go and yes, you can barely see from your perch. You’ve moved the monitor twenty times and it’s not made it any better. 

You sling the suit bags over the back of the desk and drop into the chair. Horror crawls up your chest and neck and threaten to choke you. Your heart continues to pound as your adrenaline slowly recedes. It’s more than just the cross-city sprint that has you out of sorts. 

Shoot! Why did you just go in like that? You knocked but you didn’t wait. You were so set on the finish line you didn’t see the red flag beside the checkered. You groan and slump forward, cradling your head as it throbs. You’re fired. 

You sit up and use your phone camera to fix your addled appearance, your glasses crooked and low on your nose. You did yourself no favours in your excess. You’re even more of a mess than usual. Dang. You put your phone down and untangle your crossbody bag and open the bottom drawer. You hesitate to drop it in, should you bother? You should start packing up. 

You tuck the bag away and use your foot to close the drawer. You don’t know what to do so you do what you always do. Work. 

You roll up to the monitor and login, fingers fluttering over the slender keyboard. You bring up Mr. Stark’s inbox and filter through the endless correspondence. His calendar’s full enough that most of the invites are an automatic ‘no’. 

You hear the door across from your open but don’t look up. Your cheeks blaze as Annabel’s clears her throat and struts away with a tap of heels. Your eyes widen behind your screen and you cough as you focus on your task. 

Mr. Stark doesn’t appear right away but you sense his silhouette in the doorway before he approaches. Your hands shake and your typing turns to gibberish. You still your fingers but keep them hovered over the keys. You bite down on the inside of your lip as you stare at the monitor. 

“My suits belong in my office,” he says. 

“Yes sir,” you reply obediently and stand abruptly, “just let me--” 

You trip around the swiveling chair and scoop up the suit bags. You step down from behind the raises desk and come around, overly aware of his looming shadow. You feel even smaller with your armful. 

He chuckles, “what was the hold up? I got bored.” 

“Sorry, sir,” you answer, “I’ll do better.” 

You scuff over the floor in your flats and into his open office. His desk is still a mess from his playtime. You veer towards the rolling rack against the wall and hang his suits. He steps into the doorway and watches you. 

You go to the desk without a thought and start tidying up. You’re such a busy body when you’re nervous. His soles tap on the floor as he enters and sucks his teeth. 

“She’s a cutie, huh?” Stark snickers, “and her assets are... admirable.” 

You blanch and back up, pushing your hands behind your back as you face him, “I’m sorry, sir. That won’t happen again.” 

“Oh, it will,” he smirks, “there’s enough pretty girls around...” He winks, “maybe next time, you’ll join.” 

You blink and your mouth opens just slightly. You’re speechless. He laughs again. 

“I’m playing with you,” his expression hardens and he crosses his arms, “go, get back to work.” He demands as he shakes his head, “next time don’t be fucking late.” 

[anthonys237thfreckle]

Love in Oklahoma - Javier ‘Javi’ x F! reader

prompt: javi and his girl bought a small farm in Oklahoma, reworked it and adopted little nancy!

TW: mentions of injury, implications of smut

i saw @tempesttamers make a post about seeing anthony ramos with nancy and they needed a javi fic who has a miniature cow named nancy lol. it was such a cute idea, so thanks for that!

Whenever it wasn’t tornado season down in Oklahoma, the excitement was buzzing for the next one. Everyone round the bonfire of another cheap motel, all the storm chasers would gather and share stories of chasing a twister or two, the failures, close calls, successes… reminiscing the adrenaline high everyone felt in their own way.

But you and Javi had no place to stay apart from those motels. Your homes were far away from the southwest, and though storm season was over, Javi still needed to do a lot of research and analytics for storm patterns, their paths, conditions, humidity levels and even sometimes forecasts. Storm Par was busy all year.

Since he dragged you from your own job in the city down to Tornado Alley, you felt like you belonged down there, among the wheat fields, cheap food, thick humid air and wide skies; you and Javi would stargaze at times, and they seemed brighter down there for two reasons. One, there was no pollution for them to shy away behind and two, Javi was there - the man who seemed to make everything brighter.

So rather than stay basically homeless, Javi saved up some money and bought a little house with a farm. Barely half the size of a football field, it was selling for pretty cheap, so you Javi bought it for the two of you.

It wasn’t grand, but you two loved it very much. A small, simple, two story farmhouse with a porch, wide and welcoming, its wooden steps leading up to the red-brick house. Inside, it was definitely in need of some handiwork, but it was inviting nonetheless. After all, blank walls are nothing but a canvas to store potential. Dark stained wooden floorboards run throughout, giving it a rustic elegance. Though scuffed by generations of footsteps, they were very well polished. The kitchen, an open wide space, the heart of the home, had a traditional water pump basin and sink. You grinned when you saw it, turning to Javi who raised his eyebrows in shock and chuckled quietly, shaking his head in amusement. The sink sat beneath a window with a picturesque view of the backyard. White wooden cabinets adorned the walls, giving the kitchen its own light. Though the house was partially furnished, providing you with a large, rectangular dining table, some vintage pantry cabinets, and some sturdy chairs the previous owners left behind.

The second floor was led by some creaking wooden steps, and after climbing the short flight, you were met with a master bedroom with a large window overlooking the front yard, connected to a bathroom with checkered floor tiles, one of your new favourite things. They had a normal tap unlike the kitchen basin downstairs, and large mirror with some storage units and a shower. The other room, another bedroom, was smaller in comparison, but still had a window and a large bookshelf covering one whole wall. The other bathroom, almost as large as a room itself, was spacious, with two sinks, a rainshower, and bathtub.

Needless to say, you two fell in love with the house.

Once you two moved in, you both started to rework the place a little. Javi invited some close friends from Storm par and you invited Kate and the Tornado Wranglers to held paint the walls. Once that was done, everyone went out for dinner at a local diner, letting the stench of fresh paint air out. 2 weeks of relentless reworking went by, the crew made everything a lot faster; the house was homely, cozy, inviting. A bit of a contrast to the two city people you two were, but all the hard work made it all the more impressive. All your old stuff was shifted in, the crew helping you move all the heavy furniture, then left you two to do your own thing. Once everything was furnished, you both fell asleep on your shared bed upstairs, holding each other close.

After a day of rest, you both spent from sunrise to sunset out on the farm. Javi drove you to the farmer’s market, finding people who sold nearly mature crops with the purpose of repotting. You both bought 3 tomato plants - one in each colour: purple, red and yellow - 2 cucumbers, some Napa cabbage, romaine lettuce, arugula, some raspberry and blueberry shrubs. Once back the sun was high, you both slathered some sunscreen on and spent hours outside, repotting everything into the fertile southwestern soil.

The Tornado Wranglers came over for housewarming, bearing gifts; Kate bought you a pot of flowers, with her own recipe for a fertilizer which wasn’t damaging. Tyler brought a handmade sign saying ‘Not our first farmhouse!’ with the ‘Not’ crossed out in red paint. You accepted it with a laugh, and Javi just rolled his eyes playfully. Boone bought you both a vintage polaroid camera, and you had the idea of taking a photo of everyone who visited this house, and sticking it on the wall near the entrance, as a cute little housewarming idea. Lily brought some food, her famous enchiladas. Dani bought you two a weighted blanket and a toolbox, knowing how handy that can get. Dexter bought you two some encyclopedias and books you two would definitely enjoy. Everyone shared laughs and jokes and memories over dinner, and you both realized how this farmhouse really changed your lives.

You both started living a new life together, which contrasted everything before.

You always had a knack for baking and cooking, but only did so occasionally, because you could always buy bread from the supermarket, and you were busy. Now that you had joined Storm Par (once you cornered Javi and Scott into finding ethical investors) you both worked from home, giving you a lot of time for each other, and equally important, yourselves. Now, not a weekend went by when you went on a baking spree, pulling in Javi to help you out leading to flour fights, stolen chaste kisses where he’d lift you onto the counter, and everything in between. You baked sourdough, focaccia, dinner rolls, peanut butter cookies, muffins with fresh blueberries from the yard.

Javi rarely ate breakfast, mostly because he was too lazy or never had the will to eat anything shitty anyways, so every morning he’d be blessed with a platter of fresh herbed butter on sourdough toast, free range eggs from some chickens you both bought, and crispy organic bacon. Now, he claims breakfast is his second favourite meal, and when you ask what comes first, he just gives you a knowing look, which ends up with him getting flicked on the forehead.

All in all, your lives had changed for the better, but it was only about to get even better.

As you both drove back from the farmer’s market one evening, you saw a little curled up black and white creature on the side of the road

“Hey, baby, look..” you pointed over, and his eyes followed yours.

“Is that-” he slammed the breaks, rushing out of the car, you following behind.

It was a baby cow, or a miniature one, and its leg had a horrible gash on it.

“Its owners probably ditched her, pool gal…” He said softly, stroking the calf’s head when he found no ear tag on her.

You and Javi shared a look, and a silent communication went between you two. You needed to help her out.

You rushed over to your trunk, pouring out some milk and giving her some sustenance in the hopes of earning her trust. After carefully lifting her, making sure she didn’t thrash around, Javi put her in the backseat after you put a blanket down. You sat with her, the animals’ head resting in your lap. You drove a little way out of town for a vet, and after a quick checkup, you were given some ointment, and since the calf was abandoned, you both decided to keep it.

“Come on, Nancy” Javi said soothingly, carrying calf back into the car.

“Nancy?” you chuckled “We’re naming her already?”

“Yeah” Javi said with a chuckle “I like Nancy” he smiled, petting the calf’s head

“So do I” You said after a moment of thought. “Let’s get going”

Once everyone was back home, you brought out a wheelbarrow, and Javi put Nancy in there, the both of you gently bringing her to the barn. Once she was settled on a pile of hay, Javi gently tied her neck to a pole, making sure it wasn’t cutting anything off. You brought a bottle of milk with you, feeding her as her big black eyes got drowsier.

“Can I sleep here with her?” Javi asked you with concern.

“In the barn?” you laughed “Seriously?”

“I’m dead serious, (name)” Javi said, a look of determination you couldn’t fight.

“Alright, let me get the limoncello candle” you said in fake annoyance. Javi smiled, and called out.

“Love you, baby!”

—

Once you came back with the lit limoncello candle to ward off any bugs, setting it in the corner, you brought some sleeping bags and a bottle of water and milk, for you two and Nancy.

“I’m sleeping here with you” You said, handing him a sleeping bag.

“You don’t have to..” Javi said softly, never taking his eyes off Nancy as he stoked her head, tracing the blotches of black on her cream fur.

“I want to” you reassured, settling into the sleeping bag. “G’night, Javi” you murmured after giving him a sweet peck on the lips.

“Love you” he said, watching you over his shoulder as you settled in for the night.

“Love you too” you yawned “You know, if you changed your mind-”

“No” He interrupted you stubbornly “I’m staying here with Nancy” He reinforced.

“Whatever you say, baby” you chuckled, closing your own droopy eyes. “Make sure to actually catch some sleep”

“Yeah, I will. I promise” He nodded. “Goodnight, (name), I love you”

“Love you too, Jalapeño” you chuckled “Goodnight”

Javi chuckled at the nickname you loved using, and watched as you fell asleep. He looked over at a now asleep Nancy and smiled. He was so happy he bought this little home with you. He looked over at you again, then crawled over, unzipping the sleeping bag.

“Javier….” you whined “I was falling asleep!”

“Hold on just a second, baby..” He unzipped the sleeping bag, detached the zippers on his own one, and attached the two bags together and crawled inside, zipping it back up.

“Now we can cuddle!” he grinned, and you shook your head with a chuckle, burying your head in his chest and wrapping your arms around his torso.

“Okay, now really goodnight.” you murmured with mock annoyance.

“Yeah, really” He chuckled, nodding. “Goodnight, love”.

And with that, you both fell asleep in the barn, in each other’s arms, alongside your new companion. Javi dreamt of your lives progressing in this little farmhouse, filling it up with kids, maybe a German Shepherd… ironically, the house did have a white picket fence too, which made everything all the more cliche. But he didn’t care how much of a sap he was around you - since you seemed to love it anyway. Your lives had gotten so much.. lovelier.

If anything, you both found more love here, in Oklahoma.

[xoxochb]

— we found wonderland ꣑ৎ‧₊˚.

★ - warnings: none pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hypnos

series m. list

It was an unnecessary thing, weddings. legally binding yourself with another human, vowing to stay by their side, remain loyal, to take care of them, and utter relentless responsibilities. and for what? most ended up divorced and broken, additionally what’s the point of it? you’re already in a relationship before so what’s the point of committing formally if you’re already committed to them? it’s beyond your capacity of understanding to get the idea of weddings. today, your mortal cousin had been getting married to a man you for sure knew laid with other women. if you outed this secret your mother would have you dead in a heartbeat, so you sit in a white lacy chair as you watch your dear cousin bind herself with the odious man, a smoldering glare veiling your face as she does so

“(name), darling, be happy for your cousin. clap for her” your mother says, clapping her hands together herself. she sends you a warning glance as you begin to slow clap with the same look on your face. as soon as the couple walks to the end of the aisle you arise from your seat, your mother stops you “where are you going?”

you turn around and cross your arms over your chest. “I’m going away. I wouldn’t wish to eat any cake or watch them open various presents, or entirely be here anymore. I will remove my miserable self from the event so you can all enjoy yourselves without me”

“go then. your presence has been an utter bother”

you leave mid sentence. to where? you’re unsure at the moment. you walk past lovely flower adorned gardens, shades of all colors, and at the end a hedge maze. you look up to the tall hedges. would getting lost be worth it? possibly. it would surely be much more exciting than the wedding. then, suddenly, a white figure appears in the corner of your eye, you turn to it and see large ears flying past the bushes. absentmindedly you run towards it, but only catch snippets as it passes corners. you chase after it until you lose your breath, for a moment stopping to catch it. when you feel ready you look around for the rabbit, but it’s nowhere in your line of sight. you frown and curiously walk around until you find a clue as to where he had gone

though nothing appears to you. that was, until you find a large hole in the corner between two hedges, you furrow your brows and kneel down to look inside. had the rabbit made its way underground? you lean your head in further to try and gain a closer look inside of the rabbit hole. bad idea. completely bad idea. you feel two small hands push you in from behind, causing you to fall head first into the hole. using your best attempt, you try to grab the top to stop yourself but your hands slip and you’re falling down. you scream, scratch that— tried to scream, though when you did there was no sound to be heard. had you even been screaming or was it your imagination?

as you fall deeper you take in your peculiar surroundings. this… was odd. the hole walls were a dark shade of crimson, covered in paintings, clocks, so many clocks, furniture, and random objects. what on earth is this? you flatten down your dress to assure it goes no higher than your upper thighs, just incase there had for some reason been some kind of pervert down here. when you finally reach the bottom you hit the checkered floor hardly, injuring your lower regions making you pout. you take in your new surroundings, the walls were light blue, a singular glass table in the middle, and a small ant sized door at the bottom of the wall. you walk towards the table, a small box atop it reading “look inside of me” okay… that’s weird

suddenly, a sharp pain arises in your foot, you yelp and back up, looking down to find a culprit. when you don’t see anything you crouch down and find a small, doll-like person… shouting? at you. they point to the top of the table to only what you could assume is the box you had seen. you reach up and grab it, settling it before the small boy. he points at the lock and then back up at the table, you sigh and take another glance, seeing a cordiform key placed on the table. you additionally grab that and open the box, revealing sweet pastries inside reading “eat me”. you take two, handing one to the boy and keeping the other for yourself. swiftly, he eats the whole pastry, you notice his size begins to rapidly grow until he reaches what you know as a regular human height

you don’t recognize him as anyone you know. he has dark, raven hair, sea green eyes you surely could drown in, and an admittedly attractive boyish smirk. many questions roam your mind but you ultimately decide on a simple one,

“who are you?” you say, standing back up

the boy mirrors your question, “who are you?”

“I’m-” you begin, “well… what’re you doing here? what is this place? how do I leave? I need to get back up!”

“you need to calm down”

“oh, you are an ass! I just fell from a rabbit hole and you want me to ‘calm down’? unbelievable”

the boy puts his hands on your shoulders. “I can explain everything to you but firstly you need to relax. sit down”

you obediently listen and sit criss crossed on the floor, the boy following your actions

“can I ask questions?” you inquire. the boy shrugs and beckons you to ask away “what is this place? and who are you? how long have you been here for?”

“first, I don’t know. second, perseus— percy jackson. third, I don’t know”

“so the only thing you know is your name?”

“yeah… well who are you?”

“(name) (last name), daughter of hyp-” you stop yourself. if this boy… percy was a mortal you weren’t allowed to reveal your godly paternity. the look on his face proves, however, that he’s knowing of it

“hypnos?”

holy shit “how do you…”

you don’t need to finish before he responds, “son of poseidon”

you ponder for a moment. this was all to simple. how was it possible that you, a demigod, fell into a rabbit hole and met another demigod? was this staged? where you purposely supposed to find this place?

“percy… this place isn’t right”

@childofthewargod @avianlily @wildesqdreams @spider-ghoul

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Beautifully restored 1877 Victorian with a mansard roof in St. Louis, MO. 5bds, 3ba, $960K. Isn't this a pretty street? This home was the only one built by the steamboat Captain Horace Bixby (mentor of Mark Twain).

This entrance hall. What a wonderful built-in. It holds walking canes. The newel post is stunning and the lamp is kerosene- how original is that? I like the checkered floor- I think it makes it pop more than wood.

The reception room is lovely. You'll see that they have some ship antiques around, which is a great idea since it was a steamboat captain's house.

What a great fireplace in the sitting room. Even though the cabinets don't look that old, I think that they may be built-ins.

Beautifully done dining room. This home is so tastefully appointed.

Butler's pantry pass-thru to the kitchen.

The kitchen redo is stunning.

They must be leaving this piece if they show the incredible detail.

This is such a lovely bedroom.

Perfect vintage bath remodel.

Note the little laundry chute on the 2nd fl. They also kept the steep stairs intact.

This bedroom has stairs up to a beautiful terrace.

This room has a large bathroom/dressing room.

Yard is small, but so beautifully done.

But, that's not all the outdoor space. The spiral stairs go to a rooftop deck.

There is also a 2 car garage around the block.

Lovely neighborhood of gorgeous homes.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/1532-Mississippi-Ave-Saint-Louis-MO-63104/2945672_zpid/?

[yippee-optimistically]

there is a shockingly low amount of tmnt on this blog for how long ive been into it. big tmnt'12 dump bc ive been trying to binge it recently

general sibling interactions.. very attatched to the idea of karai getting to be their sibling + i was so sleepy i kept thinking abt the turtles brumating

more sibling karai. thought itd be funny if bc of the yokai/time travel ep when mikey did that weird dance at baby karai he was implanted in her brain as an automatic Favorite. hes so peculiar

read this fic abt the aftermath of shellacne. the last line from donnie has been repeated by my sibling since i sent it to them

ougugghhh into dimension x you are so famous to everyoneee.. 1st one is me thinking abt how mikey had to be So insane to get a KRAANG SKULL? strange guy. and i dont remember which one but i read a fic where mikey's breathing apparatus breaks n he ends up getting used to the dim x air and um. consequences back on earth

RENET!!!!!!!!!!! renet tilley you are SO FAMOUS TO ME milf shirt is bc april in s3e1 really makes it sound like mikey was the only one doing house chores. cooking cleaning caring for animals etc. single mom

!!!! concept for a weirrrddddd savage mikey rep thatd be in his head in Journey To The Center of Mikeys Mind. was thinking that instead of being outside in that checker floor area, hed stick around core mikey. protecting him n protecting that last bit of childhood innocence. hed stand very tall and intimidating. core probably wouldnt even really know where he came from?? smth abt the brain blocking out traumatic memories. i like him

tang shen aus... more specifically inspired by this fic that i need to finish catching up on.. mikey and karai sibling relationship is so special 2 meee

2012 LEO YOU ARE EVERYTHING 2 MEEEE wishing so bad we got to see more of him and mikey.. mikey and his brothers ... ougghhhhh

and a little bit of smth from a personal iteration im working on ... definitely excited to post abt them once i have more solid outfits designed

[flaggermuser]

Pour Some Sugar

1,334 words || AU, Bakerverse timeline, Thinly Veiled Threat, Patriot is her own warning, Baking, Fluff, Sex Mentioned, Patriot/The Deep, Patriot & Reader, Homelander/Reader, Homelander/Baker ||

A little gift for @hom3landr & her Baker - this fits in with her Bakerverse.

Border by Saradika

“Well, don’t you smell sweeter than brown sugar.”

You still the second you hear that distinctive voice, quaking as you slowly begin to turn around, coming face to face with her.

Patriot.

Long blonde tresses cascade over her shoulders, a wolfish grin on her cherry red lips and a fierce look in her captivating blue eyes; she’s the last woman in the world you’d want to be alone with. Homelander hasn’t held back his feelings about the Seven’s newest addition.

“Can I help you?” You ask, trying to stand your ground but shrinking when she steps closer.

“You can. Homelander raves about your baking; I’ve even had a chance to taste your pastries. They were utterly divine, to die for.”

The way her eyes run over you - you’re not sure if she’s here for any other reason than to eat you alive. Either way, you’re terrified of her and, more specifically, her intentions.

“I’m glad you liked them,” your voice shakes, not fully believing the sincerity of the compliment.

“Convinced me that you’d be the perfect person to help me with this little task,” she steps closer.

“You see, I have this ‘family recipe’ from my ‘grandma’,” she says with air quotes. “It’s for sugar cookies, and I want to make them for my Sugar Cookie, but I’m having a problem getting them right.”

Sugar Cookie - her pet name for The Deep.

Another thing Homelander has been incredibly vocal to you about. At Vought Tower, they’ve been very open about their relationship, and from what you’ve heard, it won’t be long until it’s made public, with Vought’s marketing team has been working on the ‘exclusive’.

You notice she starts pouting, and suddenly, you become aware that you’ve not said anything for a while. Whether it’s from fear or because your mind has wandered, you don’t know.

“You will help me, won’t you? It’ll mean so much to him. And I’m sure Prince Charming would be happy to hear that you’ve been so accommodating.”

You nod despite your inner terror, nervously taking the recipe from her hand and reading it carefully. It’s an old recipe from the late 1950s or early 1960s, a period of baking you’re not fluent in, but you’re not a novice either. Yet there’s something about it that bothers you.

It’s her grandma’s recipe? But she was born in a lab?

“It should be easy to make; I can have them ready for you by-”

“Ah, ah, ah.” She waggles a finger in your face. “You’re not making them for me; you’re helping me make them. I want him to know I made them for him especially.”

The idea of spending the afternoon helping her bake in your kitchen fills you with nothing but pure dread. This is your safe space, a little paradise where you make delicious baked goods for Homelander. She tilts her head, those unhinged eyes tinged with curiosity.

“How do you feel about flying?”

Patriot’s penthouse is imposing.

The dark green walls and hardwood floors are complimented by tasteful furniture, the exact opposite of what you expected. Despite her earlier question about flying, she didn’t carry you here; you’d been very forthcoming with your fear.

And she’d just… accepted it.

She was more than happy to let you make your own way to Vought Tower, which further exacerbated the unsettling feeling currently taking up residency in your gut.

“There you are! I almost thought you wouldn’t make it.”

She appears almost from nowhere, no longer dressed in her suit but in civilian clothes: checkered pyjama bottoms, a Deep Thought with The Deep tank top, and no bra.

She’s very well endowed.

“Follow me; I’ll show you the kitchen.”

Her kitchen is lavish, the kind of kitchen you’ve dreamed about, fitted with the latest appliances. It would be perfect for opening a bakery, but you know everything here costs more than what you make in a year.

“Don’t be shy,” she coos gently, carefully grabbing your arm and tugging you closer. “You can stand next to me. I don’t bite, well, I won’t bite you.”

She gives you a toothy grin - flashing her teeth nearly threateningly.

All the ingredients are already laid out, and you spy a bin brimming with burnt and malformed cookies. At least she wasn’t lying about her motives to get you here.

“Now, how do we proceed?”

Baking with Patriot has been an eye-opening experience.

You’ve gone from terrified to cordial, something dancing along the border of friendly. Clearly, there is more to Patriot than meets the eye and some vulnerability lingering just below the surface, but that has been kept out of your reach.

“They are perfect!” She squeals, pulling the cookies out of the oven.

You hover behind her, directing her towards the kitchen island and, more importantly, the cooling rack. 

“They’ll need to cool for a little while,” you say, doing your best to hang back and watch while she carefully moves the baking paper from the tray to the rack.

She’s giddy with excitement and very pleased with her work, and her reaction makes your chest swell with pride. You’ve never considered teaching someone else to bake, but from what you’ve seen today, it might be an avenue worth exploring. 

“While they cool, we can start making the-”

You stop midsentence when you see Homelander saunter into the kitchen, his eyes shifting between you and Patriot. He must have smelt the baking or you and come to investigate. He stands there, hands behind his back and a slight hint of disappointment in his eyes.

“I didn’t know you were going to be in the tower today,” he nearly huffs. “I thought you’d give me a heads up.”

You swallow, preparing your answer, only for Patriot to interject before you begin.

“She didn’t know she was going to be here either,” she rolls her eyes. “I needed some help baking, and seeing as you’re constantly raving about her, I thought I’d ask for expert help.”

‘Expert help’ - that makes you stand straight and proud, still avoiding Homelander’s gaze.

She scoffs, “Drop the betrayed act. She would have told you she was coming but probably didn’t want to worry you. After all, she’s been spending the afternoon with this ‘unhinged, big-titted, airheaded bitch.’”

Now that makes Homelander falter and makes you cringe - it’s probably one of the kinder things he’s called her.

“Look,” she continues, turning her body and looking between you and Homelander. “Once she’s finished here, I’m sure she’ll be happy to spend the evening with you.”

Homelander nods, shooting you a look of concern just as he leaves, glancing at you cautiously while he leaves. He obviously came here not only out of disappointment but also of worry for your safety.

“Now, you were talking about making icing.”

Warily, you enter Homelander’s penthouse with a box full of iced sugar cookies as a peace offering.

You’d usually send him a message when you were heading to the tower, but you’d been so preoccupied with your fear that Patriot was luring you into a dangerous situation that the notion had bypassed you completely. Immediately, you’re pulled into a tight hug, the box hitting the ground.

“I was so worried about you,” Homelander mumbles into your hair. “What possessed you to help her?”

“She came by my apartment and asked… nicely. I was apprehensive about baking with her in my kitchen because that’s where I bake for you.”

He releases you from the hug, only to take your face in his hands and look deep into your eyes. “Just… next time, please let me know. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

A kiss on your forehead has you closing your eyes and smiling. His protectiveness warms your heart, and it’s one of the many reasons why you love Homelander.

The little heartfelt moment, however, is ruined by the sounds of animalistic sex coming through the shared wall of Homelander’s penthouse, making you both cringe.

“He liked the cookies then.”

[silky-nereid]

How does the traitorous yandere react when the reader gets tired of him and ends up betraying him too?

— skin & teeth

yandere!traitor x noble!reader

a/n : I can rewrite this if this isn’t what you wanted.

Yandere! Traitor who always wanted to be a knight after a simple mistake from his father was begrudgingly appointed as a royal secretary and in spite determined to be your favorite since you were heir to the throne.

Yandere! Traitor who secretly smiles when the ruler accidentally passed away because he knows that you simply aren’t ready to fill such tasks but doesn’t intend to help you.

Yandere! Traitor who placed in the appointments for which courtiers to meet and purposely chooses the ones that you extremely dislike.

Your hands traced over the map, eyes that blurred lines where territories began and ended. The heavy crown seemed to desperately carve itself into your skull to ensure a rule that would be marked in history rather for your reign to be forgotten by sands of time with the royal records. Your eyebrows knitted together in frustration, the weight of the crown was demanding that caused your throat to tighten with a single thought. The checkered flooring had seemingly doubled and began to pulsate with each step of your unsteady legs but the floor wasn’t cold and hard but soft and warm.

“Your majesty.” His arms guided you back down to the wooden chair. “Have you been feeling well?”

“Just well is what I want to believe,” you responded. “Too many plans. Too much of everything, I cannot breathe.”

“Entrust me, your majesty.” He knelt down before you; despised your very presence. “Allow me to make decisions now, understanding your current state.”

Yandere! Traitor who gets your trust and purposely misuses the sworn trust which causes eyes from other courtiers to carefully open before he would keep them quiet with a couple bags of money and rumors to spread about you.

Yandere! Traitor who barges into your room during the early hours about a decree or an important law that you needed to sign because there’s money going missing from the royal treasury.

Yandere! Traitor who smiles seeing you unravel because all you were now was just a noble person who wore a crown and he could replicate your position as ruler because your bloodline ruined everything and he simply wanted a taste.

He held scrolls and begrudgingly trailed behind you, stepping on every crack on the cobblestone pathway and pretending to listen to every word that came out from your lips. Isolated. Greenery of the garden had etched itself into the very foundation of the walls and you.

His free hand grazed the leather strap that held a dagger that wanted to be plunged into your back and serve its purpose. Fresh breeze blew through the pathway and stopped since you had stopped at an empty spot in the garden.

“What is your favorite flower?” You asked.

“I do not have a favorite,” he responded. “Do you have a favorite?”

Clinking of heavy armor echoed throughout the quiet garden and your warm hand held the silver cold gauntlet of the knight who was sworn from birth to protect you; a stain in the plan.

Yandere! Traitor who still tries to isolate you from the knight and desperately tries to have the reputation of the knight ruined beyond repair and begins to whisper in your ears; doubts about the knight since you can’t trust them, you don’t know what they are saying. He’s secretly ecstatic when you are forced to strip away the role from your sworn knight and appoint the knight that would soon steal the occasional jewelry from your bedroom to sell.

Yandere! Traitor who knowingly thrown you into the pit of snakes as he sees every crack your facade that he created for you as the rumors that he created for you seem to becoming a reality with you always looking over your shoulder and his hand who guides your trembling hand to sign the decree that you have zero idea about its contents since he has been attending the meetings and giving you opposite information of what is going on during the meetings.

Yandere! Traitor who is surprised when the sworn knight comes back because he thought you stripped away the role from the knight and he doesn’t want to loosen the strings that he tied around you and not when he’s so close to the end. After a little snooping around in your quarters when you were away, his heart tightened reading every sorrow filled letter that you had written in secrecy to the knight and the sweet reassurance that the knight would write back.

You held the remains of the scorched letters from the knight who currently stood outside of your quarters. Your eyes grabbed the scrap of the mysterious cloth that was embedded deeply in the bricks and pulled the knight into the room. The silver gauntlet of the knight caressed your face, resting on the connection where your upper jaw bone started.

“Can I trust you?” You looked at the knight with glazed eyes. “Can you tell me what is true? Try to find whoever this scrap of cloth belongs to, please.”

The knight never spoke but only nodded, taking the scrap of cloth and tucking it between their breast plate and aketon. They left, metal sabatons hitting the floor echoed throughout the hushed hallways.

“Your majesty,” he added, “I have a couple of decrees for you to sign.”

Your eyes merely looked down at the decrees that were placed onto your desk, breathing as you picked it up to read the contents.

“We have discussed these motions,” he said. “Why must you read over them now?”

“I forget many things and it would be better to read these decrees once more.” You began to read them which your eyebrows knitted together with each word. “This one cannot be approved and this one also cannot be approved as well. Have you lost your magic?”

You used the fireplace poker to move the firewood and threw the decrees that didn’t seem to make any sense on how they would contribute to your territory. Your hands tightened on the end of the scroll which your heart stitched together hearing the amount of territory lost from deals that were hidden away from your grasp.

Yandere! Traitor who notices your sudden independence once more and how desperately he tries to suffocate it away from you since it doesn’t fit his role that he shoved you in.

Yandere! Traitor who puts on a facade that everything is great despite him tugging on your chain yet you refuse to obey. He starts to put small doses of poison into your golden chalice since he can make it look like an accident once more.

Yandere! Traitor who’s dragged from his slumber to the grand hall and he sees the rain splattering on the stained glass murals.

“Your majesty,” he begged,” what is the meaning of this?”

He knelt before you, a thin blanket clung to his body and glanced down at his hands that trembled with such intensity. His head darted back up, nervously smiling softly to let him go.

“You have committed unspeakable actions against the very structure of the crown.” You stood up from your throne, candlelight flickered on the rings on your fingers. “You must admit to what you did. You should be ecstatic that I still am able to hold patience which you should end up flayed and your severed head on spike for all to see after attempting this pathetic poisoning attempt.”

Pathetic? His eyes darted at you with such boiling pain, hands that grabbed one of his daggers from in his boot, lunged at you but was stopped half way, the tip of the blade never broke through your skin since the knight defended at the correct time to prevent any more wounds on your skin.

“You should have admitted to your crimes.” You smiled. “Don’t be afraid, I will make the decisions since your state is disappointing but I believe that flaying isn’t harmful.”

[chocolix76]

Word count: 1,358

Dads are not supposed to be giant humanoid yellow rabbits with sunken blue eyes. Most of all, dads are not supposed to be robotic murderers.

Those were the only thoughts running through Oswald’s mind as he paced back and forth across his room, occasionally pausing as he listened for the tell tale metal thumps of the rabbit’s footsteps. The thing that was pretending to be his dad. 

Just a few weeks ago, Oswald was sitting at a dirty wooden table at Jeff’s Pizzeria daydreaming about his first day in sixth grade. What new friends would he make when most of the town left after the mill closed? How much homework would he get in middle school? Oswald didn’t know that his life would soon be turned upside down by a time traveling ball pit and a killer robot that wanted to be his dad. This whole experience gave a new meaning to a saying his mother loved to abuse. Be careful what you wish for.

Minutes blended into an hour, Oswald pacing back and forth across his dimly lit room brainstorming ideas of how to get his father back without the rabbit catching him first. The rabbit had every opportunity to kill him by now. So why hadn’t it? Before he had the chance to grasp at reasons why the rabbit was playing with him like a cat before slaughtering its prey, Oswald heard the signature stomping of the rabbit approaching his bedroom. His breath caught in his throat as he immediately dove under his bed just as the robot slowly opened the door.

Light from the hallway poured into Oswald’s room, the rabbit’s massive figure casting a horrific shadow across his bed. As the robot lumbered into his room, its large head swiveling around in search of Oswald, he covered his mouth and nose with the palm of his hand attempting to muffle the sound of his ragged breathing. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears and for a moment, he feared the rabbit could hear it too. This was the end. He had nowhere to run and his mom was at work. For a fleeting moment he wondered how long it would take for his mother to find his body. Maybe the rabbit would erase him from her memory altogether.

Through the fringes of Oswald’s yellow and green checkered bedspread, he could see the rabbit approaching the side of the bed. Beads of sweat erupted on his forehead, his entire body trembling as the silence of the room was broken by the ear splitting squeaks of metal in severe need of oiling as the rabbit lowered itself to one knee. A large, yellow hand lifted up the bedspread, the rabbit’s piercing blue eyes illuminating the underside of the bed.

Bits and pieces of what he had seen through the doorway the night the rabbit stole his father away flashed before Oswald’s eyes. Five children not much younger than he were lying on the white and black checkered floor. Blood that nearly looked black in the dim lighting coating the floor and walls, staining the children’s clothing. None of them were moving. One body was facing the door, the corpse’s unseeing brown eyes boring into Oswald’s soul. He was next. He would become the sixth victim of the rabbit’s massacre. However, instead of grabbing Oswald’s arm and pulling him out from under the bed, the rabbit made a beckoning motion, stepping back to give him space to climb out from his hiding spot.

“What do you want from me?” Oswald demanded, hating how his voice wavered and cracked and how his body still trembled so violently he wasn’t confident his legs would be able to hold him. 

He wasn’t sure how he expected the rabbit to respond considering it couldn’t speak, or at least never made an effort to speak before, but it calmly motioning towards his desk was the last thing he expected. When caught between doing what the rabbit asked or risking facing its wrath, Oswald decided climbing out from under the bed and allowing himself to be guided towards his desk was the safest option.

The rabbit patted the swivel chair Oswald had picked out on a shopping trip with his parents before it took a seat on a wooden chair it had borrowed from the kitchen. The wood creaked and groaned under the robot’s weight, but the rabbit paid it no mind. It simply sat there patiently waiting for Oswald to sit down, its head tilted ever so slightly.

As Oswald slowly sat down, keeping the rabbit in his peripheral vision, he noticed that the robot had taken out a lined piece of paper and the instructions to his history essay, laying it neatly on the desk. Oswald glanced from the empty piece of paper to the rabbit who looked at him expectantly. Almost innocently. He fought back the urge to laugh, or cry, about the absurdity of it all. This was not his father, so why was it pretending to be? Was this some sort of cruel game?

He tried to take a pen to paper simply to please the imposter, terrified that his head would be crushed between the rabbit’s large, flat teeth if he didn’t do what he was asked. A few agonizing minutes ticked by, his mind unable to conjure any useful information to put together an introduction paragraph. All he could think of was the animatronic rabbit sitting within arms reach. It was impossible to focus like this and, somehow, the rabbit caught on.

In an eerie mimicry of a sigh, the rabbit placed one large hand on Oswald’s shoulder, leading him out of his seat and down the hallway with an almost parental care. Oswald wanted nothing more than to scream and run away, but that would do him more harm than good. The rabbit led Oswald to the dining room, pulling out a chair for him to sit down before disappearing into the kitchen.

The scratchy sound of distorted humming wafted from the kitchen along with the sounds of the rabbit rummaging around through the cabinets. Oswald glanced over his shoulder at the front door, wondering how easy it would be to slip through the rabbit’s fingers and escape to the pizzeria to have another crack at saving his father. However, what harm could humoring the rabbit do? Maybe it would make things a little easier on his end if the rabbit believed that Oswald had somewhat accepted him. 

The banging around in the cabinets soon came to an end as the rabbit produced a tray covered in snacks, placing the tray in front of Oswald before gently ruffling his hair with a giant hand. Air caught in Oswald’s throat as he stared down at the tray in front of him, imagining it as a giant pizza box. Was this the rabbit’s way of luring him into being its next victim, or was this the rabbit being genuinely kind? 

“Why are you being so nice to me? I saw you mur-…I saw you kidnap my dad. Why are you trying to help me with my homework and…do all this?” Oswald asked, staring at the rabbit expectantly. After a few seconds, he felt a bit stupid interrogating the mute animatronic. However, if it really wanted to answer, maybe it could write something down for him.

Instead, the rabbit simply shrugged. It nudged the tray closer to him, Oswald barely able to process the fact that the tray was neatly decorated with baby carrots and apple slices, a bag of chips sitting in the corner. Noticing something purple peeking out from underneath the bag of chips, Oswald moved it aside to see that the rabbit had drawn a little heart on a purple sticky note, along with a childish portrait of Oswald underneath. Abruptly, any trace of an appetite vanished as he stared at the sticky note in terror, unsure if it was a taunt or a genuine proclamation of parental affection. At this point, he wasn’t sure which was worse.

All he knew was that he needed to get his real dad back and soon.