#help the toe socks...its so funny

[taekonaut]

onew showing off those toes ...

[tlouwhore]

modern!ellie headcanons

notes/warnings: pet names used (baby), sfw, loser!ellie a little (i cant help it), no race specific information, androgynous reader

★ she has an insane mug collection thats so strange, when you go to hers for the first time its such a weird thing

"you want something to drink?"

"sure"

and you'll go back to messing with her stuff that she left sprawled across her coffee table until you hear her clomp over and extend her arm, she'll be holding an inconveniently built mug out to you casually

"els, what the fuck is that?"

she tilts her head and furrows her brow, confused at your comment as if its unreasonable to ask why shes handing you a horrifically constructed alien mug thats bound to spill all over you

★ speaking of these mugs, she refuses to get rid of *any* of them. when you guys move in together you're begging her to just get rid of one but she refuses

"els, please. we dont have enough shelves for these, we need normal drinking glasses."

you sigh as the mugs sit across the kitchen counter, shes on one side staring at them while youre on the other side staring at her.

"i cant, i use them all"

she doesn't. she drinks out of one and she only ever drinks water from it. you go back and forth for merely minutes before you throw in the towel and just let her do her thing, if shes happy you dgaf about the normal water glasses.

★ shes a loud ass walker, you will hear her before you see her. you genuinely start to think she's doing it on purpose.

★ she has one belt and its one wrong move from completing snapping in two pieces, there is a literal half inch of material holding it together

★ needs to pet street cats every time she sees them, whenever you point out that they're probably diseased she scoffs

★ tries to pretend shes good at fixing things but has no clue what shes doing—the toilet isnt flushing properly and so she stands about 3 feet from it and stares at it with her weight shifted to one side. she'll have on a tank top on and slacked down carhartt pants engulfing her legs as she nods. she really likes to take care of you so she'll refuse to admit she has no idea what shes doing and when you walk away she looks up "toilet not flushing reddit"

★ she fucks with the twilight franchise but pretends to hate it because it doesn't "look cool"

★ she cant drive, she failed her permit test 3 times and pretends like every other driver on the road is the problem (shes the issue every time)

★ she drives a beat up car or truck, it smells a little funny and the radio gets three stations so you have to rummage through her mass cd collection to find something to listen to. half the cds wont even be in their case but instead haphazardly chucked around her car in random spots. the only ones she keeps in order are your cds, which have a specific bag so you don't have to scurry about in her car to find them.

★ 3 pairs of socks and they all have holes in them, she'll complain that the floor is cold all the time

"god the floor is so cold in here"

"can you just put some socks on?"

"i'm wearing socks right now"

"oh really?"

and she'll point as her feet, half her toes are out and her heel is fully exposed. its about the same as just wearing no socks at some point. you'll just stare in disbelief for a moment before scoffing.

"what'd you do that for?"

that small crease between her brows finding its way to her face as it always does.

"you're barely wearing socks"

"oh whatever"

★ has to physically restrain herself from telling you the gift she bought you for any holiday or event, shes tweaking out and cant function until she gives it to you

★ she loves to just be in your presence, she'll observe your routines. she enjoys perching next to you as you get ready, no matter how short or long or a routine she will be by your side

★ she can cook a crazy burger but that's literally all she can make

★ shes a blushing mess for you but she loves to get cocky and pretend she isn't when texting you

★ needy and will message you thirst trap ass photos in an attempt to get you to leave work early and be with her (it works)

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Young recruit!König is so silly :33

He gets jealous over everything you touch. You’re supposed to be with him!! Your feet should NOT touch the ground! Sit on his back, or hang onto him like a koala while he fucks you deeply. Loves watching your boobs bounce in his face, teeth grabbing onto a nipple and dick twitching at your tiny squeal.

“Bet he can’t do this” he says as he spins you around like it’s a circus performance, before plopping you down on his dick again, the squeal now turning into a shriek.

Hisses at the cat he stole for you ^_^ and fights for your attention. He cockwarms you while u both sleep and he wakes up from his cool ass dream (it was you two living in a beautiful house, happily married. Not that he’ll ever admit that) because the damn rabid orange thing bit his toe.

He’d be in the hospital, a broken arm and leg from his latest mission, and he’ll beg you to come closer. Literally almost tears up (it’s fake), and you stand up from your chair and walk up next to his hospital bed. Haha! :D You fell for the trick! He’s so happy you wore a skirt, now he can finger u aaaall he wants! (He’ll demand you to sit on his dick after a while but you refuse, already embarrassed as hell.)

He is NEVER allowed near coffee. He would become an atomic bomb with all that extra energy added to his chaotic personality. When he’s petty though he’ll take a big gulp of your afternoon coffee, ending in him fucking you the whole night. He can’t help it!! He needs to let his energy out, and who else is better for the job than you? 🫶

Anon this is so crazy & cute AHHHH. I love every single word 😭❤️!

Young recruit is in serious need of some behavioral therapy and would profit from a few electric shocks, but sadly he has better things to do (such as chase and bully you!)

Flexes on his strength and muscles every chance he gets, walks around with no shirt on, sometimes even without his pants on because he loves to see that shocked look on your face. You always gasp like a virgin who’s never even seen a cock when he walks into the kitchen with nothing on, it’s too adorable ❤️

Grins when you rush to draw the curtains together so that neighbors won’t see his half-hard dick – König has some serious exhibitionistic tendencies, gladly it’s just to get your attention, but he could be a little more discreet with that schlong… You can manage without sexual harassment lawsuits crowding your mailbox, thank you very much!

And the need to show off doesn’t end there: König has to fuck you on every surface of you and the Colonel’s house. An attempt to claim you and this place as his own, mark you both with his scent or something – or then to destroy the Colonel’s precious antique mahogany furniture, who knows.

Trying to trick him to participate in NNN ends in a horrible mess because he all but wrecks the nearest gym’s equipment while attempting to survive a week without warming his cock inside you. Refuses to sleep on the couch to prevent himself from getting life-threatening boners around you, and so it all ends with König waking you up one night with the messiest hard on you’ve ever felt or seen. Has the audacity to say that it’s your fault he’s in this state, and it’s your job to do something about this dick before he goes nuts. (“Nuts”, heh…! Isn’t he funny?)

And the cat he got you quickly takes a liking to you, he didn’t expect it to steal so much of your attention :( The tabby gets sunshine smiles and enthusiastic babbles by simply jumping into your lap and curling there. You look down at it with unbridled joy as it starts to purr and paw at you, sometimes you squeeze it against you and kiss its nose.

He can’t believe he’s jealous of a fluffy murderous kitten, who, on top of everything, bears his name because it "reminds you of him". Reminds you of him, this crazy killing machine who steals socks and bites toes at night?? Who hauls you dead rodents and follows you around everywhere you go, even to the bathroom? Pfft…

[upsidedownwithsteve]

If any of these float your boat, mama! 🥰

Catching Dad!Steve being amazed at tiny fingers and toes on his first newborn.

Pregnancy/pregnancy test reveal for dad-to-be!Steve

Dad!Steve getting invited to a daddy daughter dance

Dad!Steve at his baby girl's Kindergarten Graduation

we went for the daddy daughter dance, babe! 🧡

dad!steve harrington x fem!reader

“Do I have to wear a tux?”

Margot frowned at her dad and you rolled your eyes good naturedly from the door way. Your five year old was peering at Steve with scrunched brows and narrowed eyes in a way that she’d definitely inherited from her father.

You’d never seen a kindergartener look so judgemental.

“What’s a tusk?” She asked, gazing back at you too.

Steve snorted and stopped chopping the peppers he was prepping for dinner. “A tux,” he repeated kindly. “A tuxedo, like a suit, babe.”

Margot scrunched her nose at that, shaking her head. She butted it against Steve’s hip, nose pushed to his leg and her small hands clinging to his jeans as she groaned. “Dad, no.”

Steve laughed then, his gaze meeting your own and you smothered a laugh behind your hand as you witnessed what was surely going to be another father-daughter battle of stubbornness.

“What?” Steve smiled, staring down at his daughter’s smushed face. She was still clinging to him, pouting and with her chin digging into his upper thigh. “You asked me to the daddy daughter dance! Shouldn’t I look fancy?”

Margot shook her head, nose still scrunched. “It’s not fancy!” She declared. “You gotta look cool, dad.”

She’d slumped to the floor now, her butt sitting on Steve’s socked foot as she wrapped her arms around his calf. Her birthday was fast approaching but she was still a small thing, slight and with wild hair, more freckles appearing each day the summer drew out.

“Cool?” Steve exclaimed, his voice taking on that playful tone he kept exclusively for Margot. You loved it. He’d went back to stirring his pasta sauce, the dish towel slung over his shoulder more attractive than it should’ve been. “I thought I was the coolest? What’s cooler than a tuxedo, Margot, huh?”

Margot frowned again, something she did when she was deep in thought. She poked at Steve’s toe through his sock and then confidently told him, “nah, uncle Eddie is the coolest.”

You let out the laugh you were trying to keep between your fingers, unable to help yourself. Your daughter turned to the sound, grinning giddily at you as she realised she’d said something funny. Turning her smile on her dad, she cackled as Steve gasped down at her, her giggles turning to shrieks as your husband dropped his wooden spoon and scooped Margot up instead.

With your daughter upside down in his arms, Steve dug his fingers gently into her sides, eliciting more shrieks and happy noises as he told her to take that back right now.

“But uncle Ed has a— dad! Uncle Eddie has a leffer jacket!”

Steve ended up at Margot’s dance without a tux. But he looked just as handsome in his white shirt and jeans, accompanied by his daughter in her new lilac dress with the tulle skirt, the leather jacket Eddie had gifted her on top.

And as the next song started to play - the Spice Girls - and the disco lights spun around the old gym floor, Margot poked at her leather jacket with its first pin and said, “see, dad? Cool.”

[illicitghoul]

you’re instagram if you were in the BAU!

my first ever post :DDD yeahyeahyeahyeahyeah

spencer x reader • healthy and established relationship cause he goes through 2 much

part 2! https://www.tumblr.com/illicitghoul/748578849035599872/youre-instagram-if-you-were-in-the-bau-p2

————————————————————————————

yourusername

liked by pennycia and 43 others

yourusername breaking in my new shoes (they’re so cute but SO painful 😔)

spencer.re1d Get your feet off the bed???

yourusername girl 🤫

pennycia you’re so cute i love you and your funky socks

prentiss.em i love when you do things

yourusername thank you 😭😭😭??

prentiss.em free toe pics for the gram 🥺

yourusername i am blocking you. goodbye.

yourusername

liked by derek.m0rg4n and 39 others

yourusername spence has converse for each mood he is in and changes them out when his mood changes. it’s like a mood ring of shoes if you will

spencer.re1d I need more I think

yourusername what r the ugly mustard ones for

spencer.re1d I’m not inviting you to my mustard themed birthday party ]:

yourusername whole load of waffle 🥱

prentiss.em yk when you have a pos and a pos and it makes a negative? is that what happens when a high IQ and a high IQ talk to each other does it make a low IQ

spencer.re1d Whole load of waffle 🥱

derek.m0rg4n @yourusername he dresses up as colonel mustard in his free time

yourusername you’re probably not wrong and thats the sad thing😔

yourusername

liked by jen.jj45 and 48 others

yourusername i have a cart full of weird shaped objects

spencer.re1d Bondage 👍

yourusername HUH?????????????

spencer.re1d I MEANT BONDING

derek.m0rg4n sure you did you fox 😉

penny.cia its over sweet cheeks now we know what the good doctor gets up to when he is not at work

yourusername @derek.m0rg4n no wonder that sex shop asked for his badge again probably saw his face before the absolute dog

spencer.re1d I’m going dark

yourusername

liked by aaron.hotchner and 32 others

yourusername we r in the mountains! hopefully a yetti doesn’t come take reid away!!! oh no!!

spencer.re1d You’re not funny.

yourusername struck a nerve have i… hopefully the yetti doesn’t sense it…

spencer.re1d Not funny.

yourusername yk the statistic of people who believe in the yetti has rapidly declined in the 21st century you’re like the only one who still believes in it

spencer.re1d And when a big blue man approaches you i am NOT helping. You’re on your own

yourusername DAMN OK 😭😭😭

jen.jj45 i look so cute

yourusername i am president of jj love club btw..

jen.jj45 guess i have to kiss you

prentiss.em @jen.jj45 well i founded it …. so

jen.jj45 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

penny.cia JJ ME AS WELL

[skunkes]

ok detailed surgery experience

i made this schedule (?) of the major events as soon as I left while I cld still remember (and still kinda forgot!) i like knowing the Times of stuff so I asked my dad to take note of Times for me, and tried to ask for the time where i could

surgery I got was a laproscopic bilateral salpingectomy, full removal of the fallopian tubes only!

Misc details off of dis, obviously TMI territory as its a medical procedure.

The second blood draw (they took blood from me yesterday tooooo) hurt less and more somehow. Nasty nasty bruise forming.

IV really was the worst part of it ! I'd get weird throbs of frustrating pain long after it was in

I was given compression stockings that went right up to my crotch. Your toes stick out, and they put hospital socks over your feet. Some additional compress wraps were placed above my knees.

Pre op/prep didnt take too long at all. I know I have it listed as over an hour of waiting, which always made me nervous to read in other people's experiences, but it doesn't really feel like waiting. The TV helps pass the time, as do the people who are with you if any, and the nurses popping in with help or instructions or updates. The prep room was small and the bathroom was next door. The double doors open to wheel you out. Remote was given toe to control the TV and also call the nurses via a speaker.

The nurse who wheeled me in was nicest, she pronounced my name Correctly and was also really funny and friendly...

In general I knew this surgery was going to go well because I was actually able to fall asleep last night. I've stayed awake/tossed and turned for events far less stressful. Dis was also due to part of it kind of not feeling real for me! And being wheeled into surgery room added to that! It didnt feel real, it felt like watching one of many scenes from medical media of the same point of view.

I did start quaking and shaking once in the surgery room (also small, I did not look around much in fear of it making me panic last minute!)

They had me scoot from the prep bed to the surgery table. There was a pink foam headrest for me to slot the back of my head into. They strap you in with arms out like ur being crucified and thats when it became more Real for me so i started shaking a lot, but I can't tell how bad it was under the heavy blankets. I think I shook more and for longer when I went for my MRI (which also isnt/wasnt scary but the body freaks out for no reason). Im surprised at myself for being so Calm ykwim

Anyway, strapped in, had monitoring stuff stickered onto my body: my sternum, side of body under chest/armpits, and another pair I cant remember where. Hair was put up in hair net. My hospital gown was untied as the tie starts halfway across your body and goes under, but this was not done in an invasive-to-privacy way, and I was still fully covered by it (and then recovered by blankets)

(3 separate people asked me how many kids I had throughout this whole venture, and were Shocked at my response. This was the other most nerve wracking part as I started to get weirdly anxious that someone wouldn't like this and cancel my surgery or something. One of the Askers was the anesthesiologist.) Doctor/surgeon came in and asked if i was ready and talked about how he loved being under anesthesia LOL. Everybody was speaking about their opinions about childbirth and sterilization and parenthood, but amongst each other and not to influence my decision, along with telling each other to set up XYZ. Once again everybody is charmed by Cheye's usage of the word "yay"

Ive never had surgery before, so I was worried about anesthesia. In my mind i was imagining it to be being fully lucid and then your vision darkens and takes you, which was scary to me like i dont wanna be freaking out and then immediately KNOCKED out!

But it was gradual which actually made it more calming for me...the funny nurse put the oxygen mask over me, I got very nervous bc she said to take deep breaths and honestly i couldnt even breath much at all in it, and breathing out also felt very restricting and like I was going to choke, but it wasn't Distressing. I just breathed slowly and it worked anyway.

In a few seconds I felt a cool tingle in my arm that then sort of burst into my torso, and my whole body felt really light and my eyelids draggggggged half closed, but it felt very mechanical and involuntarily (like slowly closing window blinds...or like how the brightness options on a 3DS are numbered buttons ykwim? Like, Closing 1, Closing 2, Closing 3, Closed Halfway, all pressed in quick succession). Heavy heavy heavy. I stayed in that half closed state for a while! (Probably not even a full minute, but it also wasn't instant...i still had time to think and Hear conversation etc, as well as feel that there was some mechanical thing tightening around my spread arms along with the hand adjusted straps)

The funny nurse was telling me to relax and have sweet dreams and that they wld take care of me and such. And then I was out. I do not remember my vision fully fading or eyes fully closing, in my mind they stayed in that half closed state.

Ive heard ppl say it feels like blinking and waking up, but it did feel like sleep to me!!!! I know dreaming under anesthesia isn't really a thing, but waking up felt like....i was really waking up like normal and trying to remember traces of a dream after several hours of sleep.

I always thought it was silly seeing ppl ask if the surgery was over when they come out of it, but I did that. But like i swear it came out involuntarily??? Like i knew it was over....i think it was because I couldnt really SEE anything when i woke up, I could only hear staff speaking to me, and I can barely remember what they said. Vision was VERY very blurred. So I guess that question came out as substitute for Where Am I, and Who's Here With Me? Speaking felt like when audio unsyncs from a video, with my voice trailing far behind my words. I also remember being really bewildered bc there was some sort of residue on my lips, like when they're chapped and dry and cracking. I learned later this was bc of the intubation but i Didnt Know That Yet so i was just scared and thirsty.

Adding another "pain was less bad than the average period which has one Doubled Over" statement to the pile. Pain was at 3/10 or 4/10, which is to say if period pain is a whole abdomen event, this pain was small little bruises occasionally being brushed up against, just small throbs of sore pain in the 3 incision spots. I got an incision inside my belly button and that was the most present sensation, but that might also be bc I hate anything having to do with that area in general 😭 always feels weird.

My throat felt very DRY. It wasn't pain yet, it felt like when you're thirsty + dehydrated and your lips stick together at any slight moisture, but in the throat. Kept trying to look around and wiggle my fingers and toes in hopes that'd help me Come Out Of It sooner bc not being able to see was really frustrating me. I could not make out the face of the person watching over me for some time. I really wanted water !

HORROR when the person looking over me said i had a catheter still in me. Nightmare I wasnt counting on actually happening and wasnt mentally prepared for. I was told I would have one placed (make sure to ask if this is a concern for you!) but i thought they'd take it out before I woke up... I cldnt even feel it in me when I was told this! Which is good.

The staff of course had to remove blankets and open my gown a bit to access the area. But I did not feel any distress about this at the time.

Had a very funny slow motion distress response bracing self for removal. It did not hurt or sting at all, it just felt like [something I cant describe here]. Just pressure! It was pulled out gently but quickly of course.

After 1 hr i was wheeled to a separate private recovery room. The nurse uncovered my lower area to check if incisions were doing good so far as well as to check if I had been provided with a pad/underwear, as some patients have blood or other fluids come out as a result of the surgery.

parents came in, was so grateful for juice but in dismay over my food item being orange (i dont like citrus flavor) jello (i dont like jello 😭) i consumed all of both.

I also worried I'd feel weird about throwing my body parts away. But I dont feel anything ^_^ just feels very awesome and natural

Sore throat started further developing. Nurse came in after some time here, taught me how to Get Up. Was scary! I was worried about it hurting, but it was just more soreness.

Was able to go to the bathroom, went a very little bit but it was enough. I was very scared about seeing my incisions and being disgusted by them....but I caught a glance and it was Okey Yey. They are covered in surgical Glue and dont look gnarly, swollen, red or anything they look very cool ^_^ got dressed in stages as there was nothing to set clothes down on and sat back down on the bed. The bathroom connected to another room where somebody else was preparing for surgery.

Nurse came in with final post op instructions, upon describing nausea to me my skin got cold, stomach activated and krusty krab exploded with it. She was just barely able to get me a bag to throw up in. This exacerbated the throat pain. She encouraged me to get it all out especially since I also expelled gas, which is a good thing.

IV removal didnt hurt! Same level of pain as the tape around it being yanked off. I couldn't even tell it was over. I was wheeled out of the hospital. ^_^ i wore an oversized dress my sister lent me, and cheap target sandals so I wouldnt have to bend to tie shoes. My dad pulled up the car right outside. I brought a pillow to be a barrier in between the seat belt and my stomach.

Its 6:48 neow and I am laying down, but the pain is (currently) the same. I had another nausea (and release. Also exacerbated throat pain.) spell (while in walmart picking up the pain meds), was boiling alive in my very hot room, and was a bit dehydrated which may have contributed to some misery and nausea but as of right now I'm ok, i changed into lighter clothes, drank water, ate a bit, and situated self in a room with ac....i worry about getting up and becoming nauseous again 😭 i hate throwing up.

People are right about it being more discomfort than pain! You have to walk around every few hours, and it doesnt hurt but every step feels like my bellybutton is kinda pinching inward. Being tugged at from the inside. Ive gotten to a point where even chuckling makes me feel this very Sour soreness (not regular dull soreness) so maybe ill start the meds soon if necessary.... Squatting to sit doesnt hurt in a debilitating way, neither does actually sitting or putting on/stepping into clothing.

I couldnt nap because laying on my side doesnt hurt the incisions or anything, BUT its just the strange discomfort again. The weight of gravity on the body makes the incision sites feel very very weird in an abstract way i cant describe. It isnt pain. It feels like a mismatched sensation of some sort. Like if you touched your nose and somehow felt the touch on your knee. Adjacent to this. A very specific sensation sits in all the incision sites and drags down through your mattress to the ground and it feels Weird.

If you get up properly it really doesn't hurt to do so! Use your leg to get yourself fully onto your side, then use your arm to push yourself up into a sitting position.

I am very nervous from when all the good strong hospital meds wear off t_t i heard the day after is a struggle because of dis. but ive got the prescribed pain management on hand (extra strength ibuprofen and tylenol with codeine!! O_O) neow at least ^_^;

OH, AND THE DOCTOR TOOK FOTOS OF MY INSIDES LIKE I ASKED! ^_^ 🫶 I have glossy printed souvenir now! I dont exactly know wtf im looking at but its awesum LOL maybe i will ask for details at the follow up!

[mandomaterial]

Hello, would you be able to write something that’s Miguel x autistic reader?

I’ve seen so much diversity when it comes to diversity when it comes to looks of readers but nothing regarding neurodiversity

I’m not the expert on this- i just wrote about a couple things I do myself and i hope you like it! :3

Miguel dating an autistic reader

You were always a little different from others, but that didn’t bother you, you rather thought it made you special. And your boyfriend thought so too, he found you adorable! You’d known since you were a teen that you were on the spectrum, but fortunately this didn’t affect your life too much. It just made you move a little more or it gave you a little trouble with communicating sometimes. But that was al okay, you found what helps you and everyone important to you understands and doesn’t have a care in the world about you being a little different. Right now, you were just at home with your lovely boyfriend Miguel, it was just a lazy Saturday and the two of you were lounging on the couch watching some dumb comedy show. You were snuggled up to his side, leaning your head on his shoulder and moulding your body to his. He had his arm wrapped around you and kissed the top of your head ever so often.

The show you were watching was about a bunch of people with funny laughs that were invited to the stage. The crowd was just going crazy and everyone was laughing, you pressed your lips shut trying not to explode in laughter as well but it was futile, your giggles came spilling out and you started laughing whole heartedly, your hands started shaking and waving a little, something you did when ever you were almost dying of laughter, wich happened quite often with Miguel, so he couldn’t help but let a large innocent smile wash over him. He loved seeing you giggle and laugh and he found it truly endearing when your little hands started shaking, he’s very glad that you didn’t even think about hiding the little things you do in front o f him any more. At the start of your relationship he noticed that you gripped and held onto your fingers whenever you were laughing and he wondered what that was about but he didn’t ask. Whenever you went out on dates he also noticed that you tended to walk on your toes a bit, at first he thought it was to make you look taller, to lessen the height difference or something but now that you’ve moved in with him he knows better, he knows that its just your way of walking. There was just a little problem. He researched toe walking and he found that it puts a strain on your lower back and knees, and he couldn’t bear the thought of your young body in pain and he had a talk with you.

Miguel mentioned it and convinced you to go see a doctor about it and you revealed that you didn’t like the feeling of your shoes touching your heels and that it was just weird walking differently. Of course Miguel accompanied you to the doctor and in the end, you got special insoles made for your shoes and they really helped. They were moulded to your feet and made your shoes comfortable. Another thing was that you almost religiously hated socks, you told him that it was fine during the day when you had your shoes on but as soon you stepped into the apartment you had the urge to just rip them off, so you did. Miguel didn’t mind one bit and it was quite amusing sometimes when he found your little colourful socks laying a round the entrance. He always picked them up and never reprimanded you about it. The only thing that posed a slight problem again was that in the winter moths the tiled floors of the kitchen and bathroom were very cold and he knew that if you stood on them for too long with your bare feet that you’d catch a cold. So he started placing a little basket filled with slippers near the kitchen and bathroom. Whenever he saw you n there or you wanted to help him cook he’d grab a pair and gently said “Feet please” and you almost automatically raised one foot at a time for him to flip them on. At some times, it really touched you, that he cared so much. He took time out of his day to do little things for you and it made your heart melt. You really really loved him and you hoped to stay with him forever.

Miguel researched a lot about autistic people and the most common traits, he learned that most of the people who were on the spectrum had a special interest and for the longest time he tried figuring yours out without asking you. It wasn’t very obvious but soon enough it revealed itself, you really liked making things! It didn’t even matter what, you tried almost everything from sewing to solving puzzles to crocheting and to pottery. Your things always turned out just the way you wanted and it fills you with glee. There were a couple dresses that you made in your side of the closet and little flowerpots on the windowsills. You had lots of keychains and bracelets but to his surprise you barely wore them and when he asked why, you just told him that you don’t like the feeling of anything on your wrists that moves, for example , you shouldn’t be able to take it off or else you’ll fiddle with it and loose or break it. If you wear any type of jewelry it has to be sung, you told him about your gold bracelet that you wore, it was a matching one with your favourite cousin and it fit tightly around your wrist. It wasn’t stretchy so you couldn’t force it over your palm without opening the clasp. You also told him that hair ties were also fine because they stuck in place when you moved your hands, perfectly melded around your slender wrist.

To say that Miguel was surprised was an understatement, he never thought about it like that, how did you notice all of that? He asked how you felt about rings and you almost gladly replied, talking him that you’ve never found a perfect ring before, they’re all either to tight or too loose, if they’re to tight you struggle with taking them off and it stresses you to no end, making your fingers red, well up a bit and making it even worse, your heart starts pounding and you’ll cry if you can’t get it off. The other scenario was that they just slid off your finger and you had to keep them clenched in order not to loose them in five seconds. It made your joints hurt and made you worried about loosing it, it was just as horrible as being too tight. Miguel agreed with you, all your points were valid after all. After that talk he made sure to only buy you jewelry that he was sure you’d love and that wouldn’t bother you.

One time the wo of you were cooking in the kitchen, with him at the store and you at the chopping board, he noticed out of the corner of his eye, that whenever he did bigger movements that you’d copy them. He turned around to grab something, you’d turn a round and grab something similar. He’d reach over his head to one of the cupboards you do the same. And this didn’t just happen in the kitchen. When the two of you talked for longer periods of time he noticed that you’d copy his hands as he told you a story or something. At first he was a little surprised but the more you did it, the more he got used to it and now? Now he finds it adorable, you’re almost like a cute, little puppy!

Sometimes the things you did changed or completely disappeared. He learned not to mention anything and just go with the flow. He loved you regardless of any antics you had our your little routines you followed. He loved you and nothing would change that. You were one lucky girl and you knew of everything he did for you and you were ever so grateful.

[jess-the-reckless]

So happy to see a renewal announcement for S3 of Good Omens. Have some useless lesbians to celebrate.

It was hard not to like Olga. Like Crowley, she had spent too long in the childcare trenches, at the mercy of an unpleasant employer. Over morning coffee the two ex-nannies would swap war stories, while Olga peered through the Situations Vacant pages.

“I never could do this at the manor,” she said. “She always seemed to know if I was trying to find another job. I would hear her coming – squish, squish, squish.”

“She squishes?” said Crowley.

“ Да. She covers her feet in Vaseline every night, then she pulls sandwich bags over her feet to keep the Vaseline from getting everywhere, then she pulls sock over the whole thing and walks about like that. It goes squish squish squish between her toes when she walks.”

“Interesting,” said Crowley. “Why?”

“Dry feet.”

“Huh.” Crowley made a mental note of it, both impressed and annoyed that she’d never thought of the same thing sooner. Her toes had an unholy tendency to slough even harder in the summer. In winter they simply dessicated. “Did she often…you know…shed her skin?”

Olga shrugged. “I don’t know. But she definitely has dandruff. I’m surprised she doesn’t have chemical burns from all the bleach.”

Something went crash in the kitchen, followed by a muted swear from Aziraphale. Crowley, now a veteran of such crashes, identified it as the sound an electric hand-whisk made when it slid off the side of the bowl and splattered cake batter all over the surface, the floor, and the nearest highly-strung celestial messenger. She usually left Aziraphale to it, not knowing enough about baking to be able to help, but this time Aziraphale came out of the kitchen. She wore a fraught expression, and a large splodge of lumpy buttercream on her left tit.

“Darling,” she said. “Do we have any cigarettes around the place? Or ketamine?”

“Ketamine? No. And don’t start smoking again. What’s wrong?”

Aziraphale wrung her hands. “My buttercream has curdled,” she said. “It was supposed to look like plaster-of-paris, but it’s…it’s woodchip.”

Olga was already up out of her chair. “Let me see. It sounds like your butter is too cold.”

Crowley sat back and finished her coffee. She had been hesitant about having company at first, but it was nice to have someone around who knew how to deal with Aziraphale when she was having a baking meltdown. Crowley herself could take or leave cake, but between The Great British Bake-Off and whatever was going on in her kitchen she had come to the conclusion that cake was a hobby for drama queens. Funny, really, because what could be more decorative and serene than a wedding cake, with its sugar flowers and delicate swirls of icing? At first glance you would never have looked at such a thing and thought that its production had involved more wailing and gnashing of teeth than went on in any given circle of Hell on your average Thursday.

Accomplished as she was in the ways of causing soul-tarnishing levels of misery, Crowley couldn’t feel as though she’d missed a trick somewhere when she’d failed to open a patisserie.

“…you bring the temperature up slowly,” Olga was saying, in the kitchen. “See? Stand the bowl in hot water…”

The electric whisk whirred loudly, but this time when it shut off the noises from the angel were much more encouraging – “Oh my word…Olga, you’re a genius. Thank you so much.”

Presently Aziraphale emerged from the kitchen, drying her hands. She had that purposeful look that made Crowley wonder – and quietly dread – what might be coming next.

“I need you,” she said.

“Who? Me?” said Crowley, looking around the otherwise empty room. “Sorry. I’m not here.”

“You’re being silly. You’re very much here, and I need a favour.”

Crowley took a deep breath. “Come on then. Let’s hear it.”

“I need you to talk to Roger Dunmore—”

“—nyyyyaaargh—”

“—no. Stop screaming. Honestly, Crowley, why does everything have to be so dramatic all the time with you? I need you to ask Roger if he can squeeze one more contestant into the baking competition. I know the deadline for entry has expired, but these are special circumstances.”

“So tell him that,” said Crowley. “Why me? Why can’t you do it?”

“Because buttercream is tricky,” said Aziraphale. “And he likes you.”

Crowley let out a loud snort of laughter. “He hates me. Are you mad?”

“There’s a fine line between love and hate, dear. And I thought you might be able to provide some leverage.” Aziraphale fished in the front pocket of her beige tartan apron, and tossed what she found there to Crowley. “Catch.”

It was the extendable tape measure, the one that Roger had dropped on the lawn when Aziraphale had had her involuntary Old Testament moment. Interested at last, Crowley pulled it from its metal housing and peered at the reverse side. Roger being Roger, he had taken an indelible pen and written his name on the tape. Before retirement he’d been a civil servant, and Crowley could easily picture him as the kind of office worker who was monstrously fussy about his stationary. They had those in Hell, too, like that one desk jockey from the upper circles. Crowley couldn’t remember her name offhand, but she’d gone disproportionately bonkers with a hammer when one of Crowley’s YTS kids had borrowed her stapler without asking.

“All right,” said Crowley, sensing an opportunity for torture. “Can’t hurt, I suppose.”

The Dunmores lived just down the road from the tiny local garage. On her way Crowley was surprised to see the Jag – an E-type-shaped lump under a Jaguar branded car cover – parked outside the garage. Thankfully there was no sign of Louise, so she continued on her way.

Roger Dunmore answered the door. “You,” he said, suspicious as a supervillain meeting his nemesis. “What do you want?”

“Hello Roger,” said Crowley. “I’ve come to ask you a favour.”

He blinked at her for a solid minute. His eyes were small and brown. “Are you mad?” he said. “I know what you did.”

“Oh? And what did I do?”

Roger Dunmore pulled the door half-closed behind him, and lowered his voice. “You threw a grenade at me,” he said.

“I did what?” said Crowley, and then realised this was going to be easier than she’d thought. “Oh. That. Yeah. No, that was lightning.”

 “On a calm night? With no thunderstorms?”

“Yep,” said Crowley. “We’ve had some funny weather lately, haven’t we? That rain the other day – came out of nowhere. I’d get your marrows under cover in case of hail, actually. You never know when it can strike, and it can pulverize a courgette like that.”

She snapped her fingers to emphasise her point, but Roger was unmoved. He narrowed his eyes and lips in the manner of someone who had learned to do so from the kind of thriller novels that infested airport bookshops. “I was in the Territorials,” he said. “I know a grenade when one explodes behind me.”

Crowley nodded in fake sympathy. “Fair enough,” she said. “Although I’d love to know where middle-aged lesbians like me are supposed to procure small armaments. The only bombs I’ve bought recently are those fizzy bath ones from The Body Shop.”

Roger exhaled hard. “What do you want, Ms Ash?” he said.

Oh dear. It was clearly time to break out the charm offensive, and as a long-time agent of Hell Crowley tended to put the offensive in charm offensive. This was Aziraphale’s territory, not hers. She didn’t have any of the weapons at Aziraphale’s disposal. She didn’t have twinkly blue eyes, a dimpled smile, and a cleavage that made men of a certain age want to get wedged between her breasts as thoroughly as that one Utah hiker who had ended up so trapped between two large boulders that he’d had to whittle off his own arm. No hiker was ever going to end up fighting for their life between Crowley’s modest B-cups. Her cleavage was an unchallenging country stroll. You wouldn’t have had to break out the heavy duty boots and Kendal Mint Cake for that one. Shit, you could probably do it in flip-flops.

Still baffled as to why Aziraphale wanted her to do this in the first place, Crowley attempted to look sweet and winning. She puffed out whatever scant chestage she had at her disposal, and smiled a sadly dimple-free smile. “I would like,” she said. “For you to make room for one more contestant in the baking competition.”

This time Roger didn’t blink. “The deadline has passed,” he said.

“I know,” said Crowley. “That’s why I’m asking you. Nicely.” She batted her eyelashes, for all the good it was going to do her behind dark glasses. “Please?”

“Piss off,” said Roger, and started to close the door.

Crowley stuck her foot in it, on much more familiar territory now. “You know, I was hoping you’d say something like that,” she said, reaching for the tape-measure in her pocket.

“Why?”

“Because it means I don’t have to ask nicely anymore,” she said, waving the tape-measure under his nose. He reached for it, and she snatched it back. “I’m sure your wife would be fascinated to learn how this ended up in a strange woman’s garden.”

Roger’s face went studiously blank. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He did. “It has your name on, idiot,” said Crowley. “And you’ve already more or less admitted to being in my allegedly grenade-strewn garden. Give it up, and do as I say, all right? It’s easier, otherwise I’m going to have to do some stuff you really won’t like.” Her glasses had slid down her nose, and she was fine with that. “With snakes.”

Roger’s left eye twitched. “What do you know about the snakes?” he said, in a terrible, post-traumatic undertone.

“Lotsss,” said Crowley, and smiled. Not nicely. “Do the thing, Roger.”

“Wait,” he said, as she was almost out of the front gate. “Can I have my tape-measure back?”

Crowley laughed. “Nope. You can have it back when you’ve done what I want. Maybe.”

He gawped at her for a moment. “Are you…are you blackmailing me?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” said Crowley. “Have a nice day.”

She wandered off with a swagger in her walk, rounded the corner, and stopped mid-sashay at the sight of the Jag.

The kid from the garage was stripping off the cover. Denuded now, the Jag was yellow. Bright, stupid, buttercup yellow. For a moment Crowley hoped against hope that it wasn’t the same car, but it was. Same number plate, different paint job.

Crowley didn’t stop to ask. She didn’t have to. She knew exactly who was responsible for this atrocity.

Aziraphale was still in the kitchen, attempting to trim a carefully stacked layer cake. “Put it back,” said Crowley.

“Put what back?” said Aziraphale, not looking up from her knife.

“The car. Louise’s Jag. It’s in the garage, and it’s fucking yellow. I know this was you.”

 Aziraphale stifled the tiniest of smiles. “What if it was?”

“It looks like a banana.”

“Mm.”

“Aziraphale…”

“I like it,” said Aziraphale, putting down the knife and spinning the cake on its turntable. “It’s pretty.”

“It’s sacrilege is what it is,” said Crowley. “That is a cherry-red car. She was built to be a sexy little red number. Destined for it, in fact, and you’ve made her look ridiculous. Change it back.”

Aziraphale appeared to consider this. “No,” she said.

[cosmos-coma]

Sick Days- Bucky Barnes

A/N: We interrupt your regularly scheduled chapter to say.... I'm sick AGAIN. Its been just about 2 weeks since I fully recovered from my cough (and almost 6 weeks since I first showed symptoms last time.) I've been under a lot of stress lately to find a job so I can pay my bills, but hopefully the recovery from this round is faster.

pairing: James "Bucky" Barnes x Reader

Words: 1472

Warnings: gender neutral reader (no pronouns), NO Y/N (just 'Doll'), Sick reader, just a whole lot of fluff and soft Bucky, passively edited.

Bucky Masterlist

______________________

It started as just a funny feeling in your chest, you couldn’t really describe it, but you didn’t let it worry you. 

Then, the next morning you spent 10 minutes coughing up the worst-tasting phlegm you’d ever imagined. Thinking that that was the last of it, you mentioned nothing of it to the team, the doctor, or your overly concerned boyfriend. But as the night went on and your throat began to dry, that little cough tip-toeing back in, you knew it would be worse than you had assumed. But you still ignored it for the most part; Nothing a good swig of NyQuil and some rest couldn’t do. You’d deal with it in the morning. 

But now here you were in bed, wool socks on, two sweatshirts wrapped around you, and piles and piles of blankets over top, yet you were still shivering as if you had just stepped outside naked in the middle of winter. You had tried a shower, but it only warmed half of you, the other half just standing cold and wet away from the spray. You had even tried your microwavable hot pack; it worked for a while, but its heat dwindled quickly with time.

An unproductive cough forced its way out of your throat, following itself up with a throbbing headache at the spike in pressure. “Fuuuuuuuuuck,” you groaned, but it only came out as an unintelligible groan.

Though your body shivered and your muscles ached, you still found bits to be thankful for. Your nose- while slightly pressurized- still let you breathe through it, and your throat had yet to feel any of its usual soreness; they were small victories, but victories nonetheless. 

However, as time passed and you lay awake listening to the sounds of the tower you were beginning to get disoriented. Was it lack of sleep? Or maybe it was dehydration? Or perhaps…. Wait, what were you thinking of again? Hm… oh well, must not have been that important. 

Anyways, where were we? Ah, right-

You waited patiently for Bucky to come back from the kitchen, now regretting asking him for tea instead of just asking him to lay with you. He had been so worried when he heard you say that you were sick that he immediately sprang into action. He knew you never really liked relying on people; you were always the one taking care of others- whether you wanted to or not- so when the two of you started dating it had been quite an adjustment to get you to sit back and let him do the work.

“Hey, Doll… Are you awake…?” He called quietly, nudging the door open with his foot as he carried a tray piled high. He made his way over toward the large lump underneath the blankets, dipping the bed as he sat, “Is this you or is this just a pile of pillows?” he asked with a poke. 

“No, it’s me. I’m up…” you groaned as you peeked out over the warmth of the blanket to look, and when you saw you couldn’t help but laugh weakly at your ridiculously loving boyfriend. His tray was piled high with everything you could need; a nice bowl of soup, some fresh fruit, cold medicine, tea, a hot towel- he had brought everything he thought might help you. 

“What’s all this..? I thought I only asked for tea…” you said with a nasally voice and a smile, braving the cold of the room as you sat up, “fuck, is it freezing in here to you…?” You pulled your knees to your chest in an effort to keep warm despite the way your aching muscles protested. 

Bucky’s brows drew together as he set the tray aside, “I thought I’d make sure you had all you needed. You’re still cold…?” Concern laced his voice as his metal hand rubbed up and down your leg, “Can we try some soup first? You need to warm up from the inside.” he advised. Gentle, loving hands helped you sit up further, even going so far as to feed you spoonfuls of soup. 

You snorted and rolled your eyes, but your smile betrayed just how much you loved it, “Bucky, I’m not a child. I can feed myself…” you argued, your smile dissolving into soft laughter as he began to fly the spoon around like an airplane at your remark.

“Ah, come on, Doll. Please let me take care of you…? ” he chuckled as he tried to play it off, but you could see in his eyes that he needed this, he needed to make sure you were going to be okay. Your heart squeezed pleasantly at the knowledge that you had someone so incredibly dedicated to you, and you nodded.

“Alright, Big guy...” you relented with a grin, downing the spoonful of soup, “Thank you… I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You swallowed with a hum, enjoying the way its warmth traveled through your body quickly. 

You breathed a sigh of relief, closing your eyes and savoring the love and spices that went into it. However after your 5th or 6th spoonful your stomach began to turn, churning uncomfortably as you thought about taking another bite. “Ugh…” you groaned, holding Bucky’s hand still before he could offer you another spoonful, “Wait, hold on….” 

“What is it? Is it not good?”He asked, “I tried to copy my mother’s old recipe but it’s a little fuzzy after 70 years on ice…” He looked down, sniffing the bowl quizzically, It didn’t smell perfectly like his mother’s, but it didn’t seem that bad either.

“No, no, it’s good… I just- I’m not sure my stomach is strong enough right now.” You sighed as you let go of his hand, looking away from the soup so your stomach could finally settle. “I’m sorry, I know you worked hard and -”

“Hey, no. Don’t be sorry,” he smiled softly as he put the bowl aside, “I know sickness does weird things to your appetite… but we need another way to warm you up now.”

You wasted no time pulling back the covers, your sweatshirt coming off in record time before you reached out to him, “Well, they say body heat is the best way to keep warm in emergency situations. It’s just science…” You reasoned as your fingers urged him toward you. You may have still been adjusting to having someone else care for you, but if there was one thing you’d cave to without fail, it was cuddling your super soldier.

“Ah, of course… and this is an emergency after all.” His grin spread warmth through you as he climbed in, peeling off a few of his own layers for maximum skin-to-skin contact. 

You settled easily onto his chest, your head tucked neatly into the crook of his neck, and as you lay against his super-heated skin you felt your whole body melt away. Relaxation and warmth crept along your muscles as his warm calloused hand glided down your back, squeezing and rubbing your aching muscles as he went along. 

“Wait, fuck- go back down… further… not there you pervert- up, now to the left…! Ooooooh, yeah. right there…” You moaned as he rubbed firmly into the small of your back. 

A gentle laugh rumbled through his chest and into you, as you called him out, his hand turning to massage his knuckles along the perfect spot and eliciting an even dirtier-sounding moan from your lips. 

“You jerk… Why are you so good at this..?” you sighed blissfully as your back cracked with a satisfying pop. 

“What? At making you moan..?” your boyfriend teased, “Just had a lot of practice I guess… You know how dedicated I am to my craft,” He laughed as he kissed your shoulder’s warming skin, and snuck his hands lower… 

You snorted, gently thwapping his arm… “Alright, big guy, behave yourself… I’m too sick for your kinda ‘cold remedy’ today “ 

A beaming grin spread across his face as he wrapped his arms firmly around your middle, his stubble rubbing against your face as he kissed your temple. “I’ll behave, I’ll behave..” he mumbled against your hairline, lips staying pressed against your soft skin. 

A quiet moment passed where you two lay with nothing but comfortable silence between you. All kidding and jokes fell by the wayside as soft kisses passed beneath the blankets from body to body 

A warm smile pulled at your lips as you closed your tired eyes, “Thank you for taking care of me today, Buck…. Always really. I can't imagine how miserable I’d be without you.” You laid your heart bare, appreciation evident in your voice. “I’m so lucky I have you,” you pressed another kiss to his stubbly skin, “I love you, Bucky.” 

“I love you too, Doll. More than you’ll ever know.”

__________________

Taglist: @writingmysanity

It's been a while since I've written for Bucky (almost a year), so if I've missed you/you want to be added to the taglist, DM me to let me know!

[pricegouge]

https://www.tumblr.com/grizzly-bear-official/752590351823503360 bunny finding John chilling one day?

This is definitely giving me fun-loving dad in the pool who would def dunk you the first chance he got vibes.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to do this before or after bunny knew about John being a shifter, but after talking to @/400badrequest, I realized bunny finding him bathing would be a good reversal of their actual first meeting so that's what we're doing here.

Hope you like! Nothing but fluff below the cut but MDNI anyway please!

If it had been a snake, it would've bit you.

Lucky you, it's not a snake.

Yeah sure, lucky. 

The bear sits on its rear with its back facing you in a vernal pool. It's late in the season to find such a pond, but you can see why it's yet to dry out when you notice how deeply it covers the massive creature. Spring fed, must be, judging by the clean and clear quality of the water. You're shocked you can even bother to notice such things when the biggest bear you've ever seen or even heard of in your life sits right there, happily slapping at the water.

You sink back one step, another. Holding your breath, you think you just might be able to slip away undetected when a branch snaps under foot and the bear jolts, spinning to see the source of this disturbance with a spray of water. You freeze, every instinct in your body telling you not to turn your back on a predator. Its eyes are golden honey, and as it stares at you it slowly raises onto its hind legs, water sluicing off of it in heavy rivulets which clump its pelt. It's huge. For as large as it had looked sitting with its back turned, it is now very clear the angle hadn't done it justice. 

If this thing wanted, it could eat you whole.

"Easy," you find yourself whispering, and the bear makes a strange chirp sound, head cocking as it sniffs the air. You know what that means. Another step, another crunch. The bear makes a low, curious noise at you and lumbers a step closer. "No thank you," you tell it, but it just sinks to all fours and shakes itself violently enough to splash cold spring water half across the clearing. You shiver with it, feel your skin erupt in goosebumps. You take one last step and the bear grumbles disapprovingly. 

You feel like a deer in headlights, frozen in place as certain death looms closer. It's absurd to think you're appeasing the creature by staying still, but the grumbling stops the second you do, so you remain exactly where you are, shaking like a leaf as the bear sloshes another step closer, another. When it reaches the edge of the pool, it stops - blessedly still far enough away you don't feel any immediate threat when it reels its massive paw back and strikes down at the water demonstratively.

At least, not until the spray of freezing water it launches your way soaks you head to toe. 

"Christ, that's cold!" you shriek, and the bear chuffs, hauls back and splashes you again.

This time it's a veritable monsoon and you gasp as your clothes plaster themselves to your skin, shivering like a leaf. Despite this, you can't help the broad grin that cracks your face when the realization a wild bear is currently playing with you makes you giggle breathlessly.

"You're a little sh-shit," you shiver. You ease one step closer, convinced that even if your next move kills you, at least it'll be funny.

But the bear just hops its front paws up excitedly a few times like an overeager puppy, churning the water around it. When it turns back toward the pool, it checks over its shoulder to be sure you're following it and fucking moos when it sees you are. You stop at the edge of the pool when it flops onto its back in the middle - a big hairy island which lolls its head around goofily. Your shoes are already soaked but you take them and your pack off anyway, rolling back your sock to dip a toe in. The bear rolls so its head is closest, peering up to watch you as it waves its big mitts as if in invitation.

"Mm. Too cold for me," you demure. "Some of us don't have quite as much insulation as you." You pat your belly fondly and the bear moos again. Still, you'd hate to ruin the fun. 

When you kick water at the beast, it sneezes like a playful dog and spins on to its feet with surprising agility. 

"Stay!" you warn, delayed fear clawing its way back up your throat. But when the bear gets within arm's length, it's almost gentle about pulling you to it, paws firm but soft about your belly. You shriek anyway, fingers clawing instinctively into the soaked pelt just to gain leverage. 

The world spins, cold water rushes across your back and you flinch forward - or, down, rather - into the solid mass of muscle at your front. Regaining equilibrium, you pop your head up like a prairie dog to take stock of your situation and find the bear, instead of eating you, has simply flopped back onto its rear; floating in the middle of the pool with you cuddled to its chest.

"Okay," you murmur, completely unsure if it actually is. You're too shocked to even feel the cold anymore, at least. Or maybe it's the solid wall of heat underneath you which keeps you warm.

The bear seems content to laze about for a moment, chewing at the pads of its paws as you acquaint yourself with your situation. It mostly ignores you, until you try to slip off of it. Then it holds you closer with both massive paws and wiggles its great big body until you're resting comfortably on its chest again.

It's… well, it's hard to say it's nice when an apex predator is keeping you held tight within its arms, but at least you're not caught in the jaws of something less snuggly. Resolved to live it up while you still can, you burrow down into the soft fat beneath you and do your best to ignore the strange texture of wet fur. At least the big guy's been keeping up with his hygiene, smelling more like clean fresh water than wet dog.

You get splashed every now and again, but you give as good as you get - at least until it sneezes excitedly at you and sprays you with water and snot. 

"Gross," you gripe, and use the back of its paw to wipe your face down. It chuffs but lets you, and settles down after that. 

As the sun starts to sink beneath the treeline, it gets hard to ignore the cold. Apparently sensing this, the bear flops its way closer to the edge of the pool and only tips you off itself when the water is shallow enough not to engulf your shorts. You're still not dry by any means, but it's unsettlingly sweet that it tried.

"You gonna let me leave this time?" you ask, pulling your sundried socks back onto your feet. Your shoes are still kind of damp, but it's the least of your concerns. "'Cause I think if I stay out any later I might lose something near and dear."

The bear of course doesn't respond except to plap happily at the surface of the water. Odd that you half expected a proper response. Right?

"Okay, here I go. You stay, please."

It moos once. Keeps watching you. Does little else as you take off toward your car. It's still watching every time you glance back to be sure it's not following. You have to swallow back your disappointment each time you see it's not.

Next>>

[holdinbacksecrets]

hiii!! i have a request and idk if you’d feel comfortable writing but i figured the worst you can do is say no. i just think you’re the only person that can write it the way you do💕

what would svt’s reaction be to you distancing yourself because you’re disassociating? like, you start texting them less etc

writing this was cathartic, so thank you so much for requesting. however, it's more of a general reaction to you dissociating. hopefully, you still enjoy it.

seungcheol: you ride the bus for hours. you don’t get off at any stops. you sit in the back row with your legs folded, arms around your calves, cheek against the glass. whatever temperature penetrates the window is the only thing that feels real until the vibration of your phone. it’s him, asking what stop you’re at because you sent bus that morning, and that’s all he needed to know. you see his figure standing beneath an umbrella. his face is covered by its blue, but you recognize his shoes, the distress in his jeans, and the way he shifts his weight between his feet. something must be wrong. he only does that when his pain has flared again, but he still came. you imagine he always will

jeonghan: all you can do is hold his hand and watch the way his veins roam beneath skin while his fingers flex. you used to smile through it. you used to turn the music louder. now, you stay in silence. you told him he doesn’t have to be with you when you’re like this. it’s ok if he leaves. it’s ok if he prefers your fun, your outgoing, your giggles through kisses. but he doesn’t think about you like that. he doesn’t have categories— there’s no division. he doesn’t love you more when it’s easy, when you call him silly nicknames and make breakfast. he told you one morning you’re like a garden, and he can tell what you need after a few moments in your company. sometimes the sun is already shinning after a dawn rainstorm. other days, you’re wilted, needing a little extra love and care, but it’s still you. it’s still the garden he plans to have around for the rest of his life

joshua: you’ve been in bed for hours. you’ve gotten up a few times to use the bathroom and refill your water glass, but that’s all you’ve done. your fingertip trails across the sheet your body rests upon. you focus on your senses and everything around you that can be felt, seen, smelt. you focus on the clock as the time ticks by, approaching the hour he’ll be out of rehearsals and on his way. you manage to get dinner started just before he arrives, but you settle onto the floor, resting against the dishwasher while he finishes the stew and steams rice. your eyes are closed. you relish the aroma, and his soft hums. you feel the floor beneath your palms, and let yourself be grounded

jun: you’ve escaped to the patio again. you’re craving the cool, morning air, and the sunrise that’s sure to come any moment now. he’s so used to you beside him that it doesn’t take long for him to be woken by your absence. he brews tea and grabs a pair of fuzzy socks. you hold his hand in between reaches for the white mug in front of you. you wiggle your toes and poke them through the railing. you discuss everything that crosses your mind. you share childhood stories that invite your smile and make you forget about the distance you’re feeling right now

soonyoung: you started crying at the dinner table because he spent hours doing research, and you had no idea. you haven’t even researched this yourself, nothing beyond discovering a name that aligned with your experience. he took the name and came back with five pages worth of information. “we don’t have to go over any of this right now, but i think some of what i found will be helpful, for you and for me” because he loves you, and he wants to love you better. “are you sure?” “what?” “i’m a lot, and this is so strange, and i never know when it’ll come. i don’t want… you don’t have to… are you sure?” “i’m not trying to be funny, but i figured out the internet for you, so yes, i’m absolutely sure.”

wonwoo: you feel guilty for the way your presence ebbs and flows. your smile lacks longevity, and sometimes you need someone to shake you back into reality, but it never works the way you want it to. you wish, more than anything, that his voice could be enough to pull you out of this, but at least you can tell him when it happens. you didn’t know how to describe it at first, but he was surprisingly quick to fill in the unknowns for you, painting a picture with his understanding

jihoon: it’s the nightmares that trigger your dissociation. trauma grows and tumbles from the dark images— melting pots of horror you want to escape. your mind has become quite excellent at giving you exactly what you want. sometimes you trace his face and admire softened features while he sleeps. other nights the bed feels like a grave— feels like the ground splitting in half to swallow you entirely, so you head to the bathroom. you shower until the hot water becomes freezing, and the cold is relieving. you’re so numb you can’t think straight, and that’s so much better than floating. it takes time before he admits to knowing about the showers. it takes time to explain their reason why

seokmin: he told you it’s ok to be scared. he carried you to the bathroom when you felt like you were choking, but you threw up instead. you feel so trapped. all your body can do is make you sick in an attempt to set yourself free

mingyu: you have subtle signs like all the lights being off, but your night light is plugged into the kitchen outlet. there’s a cup sitting upside-down on the floor outside your bedroom. your hair’s braided. you don’t want to hear your name. you wear the same button down and forgo pants. you want him close to you, as close as he can be, preferably shirtless with his heartbeat louder than the sound of your breathing, and its rhythm lulls you to sleep. his heartbeat sets you free

minghao: he asks you to talk to someone because he wants to know he’s assisting you positively, but you’re nervous; you’re terrified. you’re scared of a possible diagnosis, an orange bottle that comes with a prescription, and another reminder on your phone. so he goes to the first session with you, and it’s easier to talk than you expected. his hand in yours helps, along with the kindness radiating from the woman sitting in the armchair. it takes up the entire west corner, and it’s purple: your favorite color. her name is astrid. it reminds you of stars, and she wants to help you just like the man beside you. you believe them. it’s easier to believe them. doubt is so tiring

seungkwan: you’re sitting in the dark again, but the blinds are open, and you wait for rays of light to coat your wall in warmth, in color. it’s unfair how beautiful the sky is. it’s unfair that you can’t collect its picture perfect on a canvas for you wall. imagining your bedroom covered in your favorite skies settles your agitation, and you smile at the man beside you. you kiss his cheek, and ask him what is favorite sky is, if he has a picture. of course he does. he wouldn’t miss the chance to capture something so extraordinary 

hansol: he made you a playlist, and he wasn’t sure his selections would bring any comfort, but they did— they do, so you walk. you walk for hours. the playlist starts over. you end up in the park, craving the ground’s support. the ground’s foundation feels stronger than your body does. you used to feel so alone before you had him. you used to spend these days in bed. you’d take off work or miss class and forget what it means to exist in your version of normalcy until the clouds parted. now, it’s not that the feelings have changed, but you can move through them, instead of feeling arrested by them

chan: you wrote a list months ago that covers everything related to your dissociation spells. it lives in the first drawer to the left of your kitchen sink. a drawer filled with pens and sticky notes and thumb tacks and this list that no one else knows about besides the two of you. now, he doesn’t bother looking at it, but the words were lifesaving at the beginning. he had never heard of dissociation until you brought it up to him one evening, having been stuck in its clutches for the past few days. that night was emotional. you felt relieved after confiding in him, and there was something hopeful about knowing your honesty didn’t scare him. instead, he leaned in more. he came closer, with comfort accompanying his proximity

[sinfulsalutations]

This might be a little weird but i always am wearing mismatched socks(color and type not height) and imagine the bad batch all have a bunch of pairs of the same kind and color so how would the batch react to their consistent mismash of socks

𝕞𝕚𝕤𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕕 𝕤𝕠𝕔𝕜 𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ⋆*･ﾟ𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕓𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙

⋆ ★ ʜᴍᴍ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴀ ꜰᴜɴ ɪᴅᴇᴀ! ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴍᴀɢᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴀʟʟ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ꜱʜᴀʀᴇ ꜱᴏᴄᴋꜱ, ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ɪᴛ ᴅᴏᴇꜱɴ’ᴛ ᴇᴠᴇɴ ᴍᴀᴛᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴡʜᴏ’ꜱ ᴡʜᴏꜱᴇ ʜᴀʜᴀ. ʏᴇᴀʜ ɪ ᴋɪɴᴅᴀ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ꜱɪʟʟʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴍɪɴᴅ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜰᴜɴ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ᴄᴜᴢ ɪ ʜᴏɴᴇꜱᴛʟʏ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴏꜰ ɪᴛ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ (ᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴄᴏᴍᴘʟɪᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴏꜰᴄ).

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱʜᴀʀɪɴɢ ᴄʟᴏᴛʜᴇꜱ, ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀʟʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇꜱᴏᴍᴇ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ ʜᴀʜ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

Hunter

Okay, some of them think it's weird, but it makes sense in Hunter’s head logically; he matches his bandana with his socks.

Meaning he only wears red socks.

Doesn’t matter if they’re different shades; a crimson and vermillion red doesn’t make much of a difference.

He’s a bit of a color coordinator, let's be real.

It’s funny, cause Hunter’s really not that vain about his appearance. I think we all headcanon that he uses 13 in 1 shampoo and conditioner in the shower so like he really doesn’t care that much–

But something about having red socks… dunno, they just gotta be red, okay?

One time he couldn’t find another red pair, and he was scrambling around the Maurader for one.

“Has anyone seen another red sock??”

“No, Hunter. You’ve asked this 10 times, you’re not going to get a different answer.”

“Oh shut up Echo!”

Then Tech threw a pink one in his direction, and it landed directly in his face.

Hunter sputtered in shock and threw it back.

“This isn’t red!”

“Well technically, it is red, just a very tinted shade of it–”

“Nope, not gonna take your smartassery right now.”

Then he proceeded to dig up the laundry basket until he found another red one.

Tech

Hates it with a burning passion.

Always tries his best to make his socks coordinated while the others wear mismatched ones.

It’s incredibly difficult.

He always ends up getting the colors pretty close, but slightly off from each other.

Suddenly he whoops in triumph and pulls out two separate socks and its just two shades of black and he throws them across the room.

Do y’all see a pattern here with the throwing aijerlakjdf

Crosshair meanwhile is laughing in the corner because he has one of the matching socks on right now and he’ll never know muahahhaha!

Wrecker

Is probably the one that started it and caused the chain reaction.

It’s literally just socks and no one sees them it doesn’t kriffing matter if the colors match–(even if some of his brothers disagree)

He’s got like hella holes in his socks though, so he’s ended up kind of having his own.

If one of them is sorting laundry and sees a hole in one of the , welp its Wrecker’s now.

He’s like the only one that doesn’t care about holes in his socks. C’mon, he’s a simple man! He doesn’t need all these intricacies, thank you very much.

Same sentiment goes for the type of socks. He does prefer to have them go over his ankles but he doesn't care if the socks are fluffy or itchy and closely cropped to his skin, as long as it covers his feet he’s fine.

Crosshair

Doesn’t seek comfort, for some fucking reason.

Avoids fluffy or comfortable socks like the plague.

Might explain why he gets hella calluses on his feet.

But it helps him stay on his toes (don’t mind the pun), instead of in a comfort zone that’ll make him possibly mess up his performance when he shoots.

His socks end up being the most mismatched.

Nobody knows how but he always manages to have his socks with such ugly and contrasting colors it hurts Hunter’s poor little brain–

Like he’ll end up with some bright orange and then a soothing lavender and holy shit it’s so ugly dear lord.

Echo

Fluffy sock wearer all the way.

This man prioritizes comfort in lots of ways the rest of the batch doesn’t, mostly because of the chronic pain and daily discomfort he experiences since Skako Minor.

So yeah, the colors don’t matter to him; fluffiness does.

However, despite being a fluffy sock enthusiast, he doesn’t like them all the time.

There are situations where it's simply too hot or irritating for those kind socks.

But they still have to be some semblance of soft, or comfortable.

[poopyballz28]

Just looking at your content, ik kiyosumi cat toe would love you so much!!! He would love you so much he would give u a box of chocolates thats just his dookie wrapped up in plastic and beat you with a poop sock and pee on ur cat and slap ur mom and make ur dad his cum slut! 💖💖💖

its so funny how i know exactly who you are just by your horrible sense of humor. this is so utterly pathetic i cant help but cackle to myself. they spammed like 15 other asks like this btw guys this is what daddy is forced to deal with for not liking rape and not being a proshipper

[gh0stgirl333]

An Afternoon Stroll - Ominis Gaunt

A/N: Idk what this is I just had an idea and went with it🫣 ominis is definitely a Dom after that kiss that’s all I’m gonna say 🤭🫣🫠

“I want to show you something.” The soft voice had pulled ominis out of his daydream as he sat on the marbled floor. He hadn’t even heard you approach, which was odd since he always knew when you were near by the clicking of the boots that you wore - everyday - since he’d met you. “Where are your shoes?” narrowing his eyes in confusion, the boy couldn’t stop the question rolling from his tongue as he moved his head in your direction as you knelt by him. You giggled then and ominis couldn’t stop the smile that graced his face feeling you lean closer to him. “You’ll see.” The words were a soft whisper against his ear, causing his face to heat and his smile to widen. “Well I won’t actually.” Ominis couldn’t help the sarcasm that seeped throughout the sentence as he laughed.

He knew you were rolling your eyes because he’d heard you click your tongue, something you did often when he spoke with such mordacity; You huff at him before gripping his hands pulling him to a stand. “You think you’re so funny don’t you?” You chortle at him guiding him through the castle. “I know I am darling.” The name had shut you up as he knew it would, and you gripped his hand tighter, walking at a slightly quicker pace. “Don’t tease me ominis.” You picked up your pace again, continuing your journey still with him by your side. “There’s some stairs here ominis. We’re going down.” Even when he had tickled a nerve in you, you couldn’t change your ways when it came to looking out for him; after all you did love the boy, even if you wouldn’t admit it yet.

You had walked for a good fifteen minutes and now had ended up outside the clock tower courtyard making your way to the lake when ominis stops. “Why are we outside?” He pauses sucking a breathe. “Better yet why are you outside, without your shoes?” You huff and pull on his arm again, a soft push for him to keep walking. “Well you’ll find out soon if you keep moving- we’re losing daylight.” As you spoke the spring breeze blew softly past the both of you. Ominis thought he could just stay in this moment forever- your sweet floral scent encasing him embracing his senses through the air. He sighed and all of a sudden you pulled him to an abrupt stop.

“We’re here!” The sound of your excitement made ominis grin the feeling rubbing off on him too. “Now take off your shoes!”

“What? You have to be joking.”

“Ominis, I have never been more serious in my entire life.” At that he finally gave in removing his shoes and placing them nearly by his feet. “Now your socks.” You giggle at his puzzled face yet he doesn’t falter and continues with your demand.

“One of my favourite things back home was walking through the fields barefoot, and walking along the shoreline.” You walked backwards into the lake your ankles now enveloped in its depths - as you walked further the water seeped into the fabric of your skirt weighing it into the water where it met at the hem. “One day I’ll take you to the beach, but for now, the black lake will have to do.” Ominis now stepped forward with you; his hands still intwined with your own, the cool water tickled his toes and he let out a breathe in shock, the action causing you to laugh softly. “I always feel so free doing this, and I want to share that feeling with you. A time away from everything where we can let go. Where you can relax, ominis.” The blonde boy stepped closer - releasing your hands and guiding them around his neck while brought his own to you waist. “Thank you.” He pulled you in tighter, his arms crossing behind your back as he leaned his face into your neck; hot breath caressed your skin setting it alight, your own breathing hitched and heat rose to your cheeks.

“Ominis, i-.” You pause as he pulled away, brows creased together in concern.

You pull your hands from around his neck and let them rest lazily on his chest. He places a cool ivory palm against your increasingly heated cheek as he speaks. “What’s wrong?” The worry in his voice made you melt instantly; leaning into his palm you admire him: his cloudy iris’ and those perfect little dots that decorated his alabaster skin, his face was like it had been crafted by an artist who was searching for the exact rendition of true beauty. In this moment as you stared up into at his face, you knew, that this was the moment you were waiting for; with no hesitation you lean forward burying your toes into floor of the lake and press your lips chastely against his. He stood frozen for a moment and you almost pulled away in rejection.

A sudden fire had ignited within ominis, his hand moved to grip your hip while the over travelled from your cheek to the back of your neck, tilting it back as he kissed you with a force that made your knees buckle. His tongue grazed along your bottom lip and you allowed him the access you both desired; the angle he held your head at let him explore your lips freely as he groans into your mouth in satisfaction. When he finally pulled his lips from yours you were left putty in his arms, ominis pressed his head against your own. “I’d love for you to take me for a stroll on the beach if I could kiss you like that again, darling.”

[roachemoji]

Ik a lot of people struggle to give characters random traits but fear not! here's my list of go to questions

1. Would they pee in a pool/lake/ocean/while swimming?

how comfortable are they around others? how conscious are they of germs? is it unhygienic to them in some situations but not others?

2. Can they build a fence?

look, the ikea furniture question will always be funny, but everything is pre-packaged and the instructions clearly labeled whether you read then or not. now, a fence??? would they seek how the materials, ask for help, do research a head of time? there's so much that goes into a project like this

3. What does their sink look like?

this goes hand in hand with what colour us their tupperware and how often they empty the dishwasher.

4. What does under their bed look like?

is it a mystery pit of lost items only to be found on the offchance its explored or is it a pristine organized storage facility for vacuumed sealed winter outfits??? what's under there!!!!!!

5. Can they use public bathrooms?

for obvious reasons but also did you ever know those people who could poop at school with the confidence of a God? yeah.

6. How often do they wash their hands?

also self explanatory but do they carry their own soap? lotion? how dry is their skin? how cracked are their nails? is there dirt under there? do they even think about it???

7. Do they wear shoes in the house? Do they wear shoes outside?

controversial question that went around that one time but people's footwear habits speak volumes!!!!! fuck your socks and slides are they feeling dirt between their toes yes or no????

8. Do they have any mild allergies?

Serious ones are important and life altering but my favorite are the ones that aren't life threatening and are just mildly inconvenient. How are they coping during spring? How's that dust looking? Is there a fruit they say is "spicy" and had no idea that means they're allergic to it? (looking @ you, apples)

9. Would they fall for an email/phone scam?

I don't care how cool they look covered in blood, would they fall for a phishing scam????

10. The check engine light is on. What do they do?

knowing how to change your tires is important. understanding that rotating your tires doesn't mean spinning them is also important. MORE importantly is how long they ignore a problem until its too fucking late

11. How soon would they take an ibuprofen?

do they believe they deserve to suffer y/n

[dairy-farmer]

Bruce is obsessed with tims adorable small feet. He likes to put them in pretty shoes or frilly silky socks and marveled at them for hours. How small and soft and cute they are! He massages tims feet gently with his calloused fingers, adores them with kisses, almost swallowing each of chick pea sized toes. Tim thinks its weird yet funny.. so he let bruce rub himself against his arch of foot. After all its bruce who licks them clean nuzzling his perfect nose between tims toes like a needy puppy.

tim's feet have such delicate bone structure, like little twigs and bruce feels like he's holding a baby bird in his hands when he cradles it and runs a finger from the sole to the heel. tim always giggles when he does that, curling his toes and trembling as he resists the urge to pull his foot out of bruce's hands.

bruce can't help it. tim's feet are just so...small. it's remarkable.

bruce had never had any strong feelings for a person's feet before. he didn't really understand the 'kink'. the way a man could be broken down to nothing by the sight a pair of feet.

that was until he saw tim. until he watched him as he changed out of his civilian clothes and into his robin uniform.

tim wore these...these little loafer-like shoes. they had a slight heel and a shiny gold buckle on the front. he wore them with cute little socks that wrapped around his ankle with ruffled kind of lace.

something delicate and pretty that drew attention to how thin and small his feet were.

tim's feet were also cold. sending shocks up bruce's warm hands when he'd wrap a hand around them.

bruce would squeeze them between his palms, warming them before wrapping tim's feet for him in compression bandages to protect tim's feet from abuse. after all, tim's feet were susceptible to some abuse with all the kicking, running, and work he'd do as robin.

the wrappings were to stop tim's bones from breaking after a bad landing or misaimed kick.

maybe bruce was a little too fascinated with tim's feet while doing it. maybe it was strange that he'd wrap tim's feet for him but always leave dick and jason to do it on their own.

and tim is a good kid. he indulges bruce, allowing him to massage medicated creams and lotions into tim's little feet so they don't hurt after a long day. tim's feet are so delicate, his toes like little peanuts.

they're so cute, bruce can't help pressing soft kisses to them. the sole of tim's foot, his toes, that delicate arch.

tim usually sits back, legs togather and feet up while bruce fondles them.

he's amused, staring at bruce with a confused but indulgent look. giggling occasionally when bruce's stubble scrapes against the sole of his little foot.

bruce would like to believe he's not a creep for it. afterall its not like he's fucking tim he's just...touching him. just a little bit. and tim could push him away any moment he wanted

but he doesn't.

because...because maybe tim likes it too.