#look at he go doing the big spinny

[java-mr]

another blender test: featuring animation! behold, the cube spin

[graysturns]

𝕓𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕚𝕡𝕡𝕖𝕣 | 𝕔.𝕤.

notes: oh shit another one! i’m in a good mood today oops

warnings: no smut sorry just chris w the rizz

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i sat at a booth at the far end of the restaurant, polishing and rolling silverware into neat little bundles. it had been two hours since anyone had come in, so i sent the cook home. i could handle it on my own, the diner had been in my family for years and i basically grew up there. not that there was anything to handle, the floors were mopped, grill cleaned, and now, silverware rolled. but still, someone had to stay behind, just in case.

i was gazing at the sunset through the large glass windows, when i heard the bell above the door ringing. my head shot up and i locked eyes with a beautiful, beautiful man.

i stood up, patting my hands on my ridiculous waitress apron, and approached him with my customer service smile. "hey there, welcome in! just one dining in today?" i greeted him.

"yep.." he spoke awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"would you like to sit at a booth or have a seat at the bar?" i grabbed a menu and a set of silverware from behind the counter.

"the bar is fine, thank you," he took a seat on the spinny stool.

"alrighty then, there's the menu for you, my name is (y/n) if you need anything, and i can go grab you a drink while you take a look at that. what would you like?"

"umm.." he flipped over the laminated sheet. "i'll have a chocolate shake please, extra cherries.

"perfect! i'll be back in a minute" i spun around and headed back to the kitchen, secretly annoyed that i had to pull out the blender, and ice cream, and etc. etc.. but alas, doing something was better than nothing. i hurriedly prepared the milkshake, topping it with whipped cream, then some rainbow sprinkles. i made sure to add five or six cherries on top, then adding some extra whipped cream, just because.

i hurried back to the counter, placing his milkshake before him, and popping a bright pink straw into his drink.

"pink?" he raised an eyebrow at me. i felt a shift in his demeanor.

"yes, pink?" i raised one back.

"do i seem like the kinda guy who likes pink?" he smirked a little.

"it's just pink, doesn't mean anything. i grabbed a random straw sweetie, i'll change it out for you, sorry about that," i reached for the straw.

"no no no," he brought the shake closer to him. "my bad sweetie, i thought you were trying to say something, but that's okay, i actually do like pink."

i gave him a puzzled look. "i'm sorry sir, i didn't mean to offend you, i work in a diner, we call everyone sweetie here, that's how we get old guys to tip big. as for the straw, i'll just let you pick what color you want next time."

he focused on his shake, sipping slowly for a second, before looking up at me, licking his lips.

"i'm not offended sweetie, i kinda like it," he laughs. "i apologize if we got off on the wrong foot, i'm not trying to be rude, or weird or anything, i'm just really bad at flirting."

i let out a sigh "-gosh you scared me! i thought you were gonna murder me or something because i'm all alone in this diner! man, you're terrible you know that?" i giggled.

he looked very amused. "how do you know i'm not a murderer? you can't let people know you're all alone here, as pretty as you are. that's dangerous." focusing back on his shake.

"i'm gonna choose to trust you today, i have nothing better to do. anyways, have you decided what you want to order?"

he pays attention to the laminated sheet once more, then looks up at me. "what's good here?"

i roll my eyes.

"what? did i say something wrong?" he's chewing on his straw.

"that's just like, the most annoying thing you could ever say to a waitress but, again i have nothing better to do." i grab the sheet from his hand and point out a couple things.

"if you're in the mood for breakfast food, the biscuits and gravy are good, if you like that sorta thing, our pancakes too, and my personal favorite is the french toast with a caramelized peach topping, but that takes some time if you're in a rush.." he's staring at me. "sorry I'm rambling, there's so much to choose from!"

"no don't worry about it, I'm enjoying listening to you talk. but no, i'm not in a breakfast kinda mood, sorry. you can keep going, if you'd like,"

i feel a blush creep onto my cheeks.

"..okay let's see here. for dinner, we've got our classic american burger, comes with your choice of fries or onion rings?"

"hmm.. no i'm not feeling a burger at the moment."

"how about a sandwich? we've got grilled cheese, turkey club, BLT, maybe a philly cheesesteak?"

he shakes his head no, so i keep going.

"fried chicken? or a salad? we've also got country fried steak."

"i think it's called chicken fried steak, sweetie." he smirked.

"mmm no actually, it's a country fried steak."

"no it's a chicken fried steak, because it's steak, fried like chicken."

"you know what, i don't even care, that's what you're eating, since you can't make up your mind. alright sweetie?"

"alright." more smirking.

"that comes with a side, what do you want?"

"what are my options?" he licks his lips again, eyeing me up and down.

"eyes up here, sir." i point to my face.

"you can do mashed potatoes, green beans, or a baked mac and cheese."

"i'll get the mashed potatoes, thank you sweetie." he says it without an attitude this time.

"okay great, give me a few minutes and i'll have that right out for you, okay?"

"okay," he replies as i hurry back to the kitchen, pulling out all the ingredients for his meal.

as i'm finishing up, i hear the bell chime again, indicating someone has either left or entered the diner.

i peek out the swinging kitchen door and see the man's seat empty. i hoped he didn't leave just as i was finishing preparing his meal.

i plate up the potatoes, then the steak, and smother it in gravy, then walk out to the counter, carefully setting his plate down where he was sat, then sitting on my stool the opposite side.

suddenly, he walks back in, running a hand through his hair.

"hey sweetie! sorry i didn't mean to make you think i left without paying. my brother was just calling to see where i was, so i stepped outside for a moment."

"that's alright, your foods out, and you know, we don't have to keep calling each other sweetie, you know my name, just tell me yours. "

"no i like it this way, it's nicer.” he takes a seat, grabbing his fork and knife, digging in.

"wow y/n this is amazing! normally i don't like this sort of food but wow, you really outdid yourself."

"oh hush, i just had to throw it in the fryer, don't give me the credit." i beamed at him.

"but i do have to clean up, so i'll see you in a bit, enjoy your meal." i winked at him.

"no, please. stay here, i don't like to eat alone. and i like the conversation."

"i really should go clean up-"

"miss (y/n), just a little company please?"

i can't say no to those eyes. "okay fine, i'll sit with you" i reply to him, returning to my seat on the stool.

"good. thanks, babe."

"so it's babe now?" i raised a brow at him.

"we'll play around with it, see what we like more." he takes another bite.

"you're a dork, you know that?"

"i can be your dork," he smiled at me some more.

"that was so corny, don't do that ever again. please, i'm going to vomit."

"ew, babe i'm eating. you shouldn't talk about vomit. it isn't very ladylike."

"but babe, i can't help that you made me nauseous," i pouted at him.

"i don't make you nauseous. you love me!" he pouted right back.

"babe we just met!"

"but you're calling me babe, babe." he grins up at me.

"you got me there. hey babe, you want another shake?"

"i'd love one,"

"okay, be right back!" i hop off the stool and run to the kitchen, hurriedly preparing another chocolate milkshake, extra cherries and whipped cream.

"here it is," i push out the swinging doors.

"a chocolate shake for you, sir," i giggle as i throw in another pink straw.

"you said i could pick! i wanted orange this time." he frowns at me.

"aw too bad, i forgot. sorry babe. but you get what you get, i can't be wasting straws, now, think of the turtles."

he laughed then proceeded to enjoy his shake.

"i can't believe i've never been here before. quality dinner and entertainment, that's quite hard to come by nowadays," he spoke.

"i didn't consider myself very entertaining, but thank you, we try our best here at Jo's." i beamed at him, sat up straight, then jokingly pointed to the "Jo's Friendliest Face of 2023" pin fastened to my apron.

"i was completely joking babe, but i'm honestly astounded that they gave you a pin for being such a dork! this is a proud boyfriend moment." he teased.

"i'm gonna be honest with you, my dad owns this place and i'm the only one who works here besides the cook. anyways, i stole this pin from my dads office to get more tips," i trailed off.

"so you're a liar and a thief, (y/n)?" he laughed.

"aw no more babe?" i pouted.

"you gotta earn it back," he smirked.

i rolled my eyes slightly.

“okay nevermind, i like it when you roll your eyes like that, babe.” he winked.

my jaw dropped at his comment, it wasn’t outright dirty but it was definitely implied.

“babe at least take me on a date first!” i laughed and lightly smacked his arm.

he chuckled and looked down at his plate, which was now bare.

“as much as i’d love to stay and chat, i’m needed elsewhere, but we can continue this conversation another time.” he grinned cheekily.

“alright sounds good, i’ll be right back with your check,”

“no that’s okay, here’s my card. you can just run it.” he handed me a debit card. i smiled sweetly at him and walked to the computer to charge him.

after running it, i flipped it over to read “CHRISTOPHER STURNIOLO” on it.

aw, chris.

i walked back over to him and placed the receipt back on the counter, along with his card and a pink pen with a fluffy pom pom on the end.

“what’s with you and pink, babe?” he smirked at me.

“i just think it’s cute, anyways, have a great night. thank you for stopping in and come back soon. i’ve enjoyed our conversation.”

he poked his cheek with his tongue as he watched me clear the counter of his plate, and walk back into the kitchen. i could feel him staring holes through my skirt.

i placed the dirty dishes in the sink and walked back out, but he was gone.

the receipt on the counter was filled out, and i hoped to see his phone number, because that was a normal thing in this industry, i never cared for it until now though.

unfortunately that was not the case. on his tab of $14.12 he had left fifty-seven cents. totaling to $14.69.

with a winky face by the sixty-nine.

what the fuck?

i ran outside hoping to catch him, and he was there, walking to his car.

“christopher!” i shouted in his direction.

he snapped his head around, and smirked.

“what’s up babe?”

“listen, i don’t normally come after people when they stiff me but what the fuck was all that for? you come in and smooth talk me and now you’re stiffing me, writing down sixty-nines and winky faces? is that how you normally treat service workers?” i got all up in his face.

“and then you made me feel like there was something! i thought i li-“

he grabbed my cheeks and pulled me toward him, kissing me passionately.

“don’t call me christopher please, it’s chris. no actually, babe. i don’t like all that formal shit.”

i didn’t even know how to respond.

i stepped back and smoothed out my apron and cleared my throat.

“um, i-i dont even know what to say.” i stared at the him.

“i was trying to piss you off. i can assure you i’m an excellent tipper. trust, babe. i wanted you to follow me out here, see how much you really liked me.”

he pulled his phone out and opened up a new contact, then handed the phone to me.

i grabbed it and typed in my number, shocked but so intrigued by him.

he grabbed it back and erased where i wrote my name and typed in “babe”.

he gave me another kiss, but just a peck this time.

“see you later babe.” he winked then slapped my ass before walking away.

i stood there dumbfounded, before running back into the diner and pressing my back against the door.

my phone buzzed and i pulled it from my apron pocket.

unknown number sent $69

unknown number: ;)

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ahhhh omg i really like this one! hope u guys like it too 🤍

even though i’m new to this i’m super down for requests just lmk

comment on this post to be added to taglist :)

[natbelovasblog]

Stalker.

PAIRINGS: AOS!Natasha Romanoff x CCTV!Fem Reader.

SUMMARY: While your Coworkers relish in their lunch breaks-you take to watching the security cameras. But while watching over live footage you see something, or rather someone, in the corner of the camera. Who are they and why are they here?

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood, Budapest references??, and a slightly agitated Katness Barton.

A/N: I had gotten this idea from a day dream, and decided to write it out at 2:30/3am. :). It was going to be a series.. but I’m too inconsistent for that.. so.. if anyone wants to actually write a whole or short series on it, be my guest, but tag me bc I wanna read it!

I had visions of it being like flirty nat, and playing hard to get reader, so nat keeps stalking and popping up everywhere trying to get her to go on a date with her, then she finally does so nat will leave her alone and the rest is history.

… anyways. Hope you enjoy. AOS means agents of SHEILD.

“I’ve got eyes on the target” A slight Russian accent was heard through the comms.

“You act like we’re in a movie” The archer spoke up.

“Shut up Barton, I’m doing my job” Natasha vocalized her annoyance. She’d only been with the man for 7 days, but even with it being that short, he was still a pain in her ass.

“We’ve got movement! I’m going in. Cover me.” The spy was already gone before Barton could even speak.

“Nat, you can’t just run off like that! There’s a woman in there. Who knows how many more. We should’ve sat back and waited longer!” Clint had told her, climbing higher up the tree to get a good look in the building.

“Oh please, they don’t even know they’ve got a weaponized system in the building! There’s probably only 3 security guards and I’m sure they would’ve already seen us with how slow you walk. I’ll be fine. Thanks for the concern.” The red head rolled her eyes. Knocking on the door before taking down 2 security guards with her widow bites, after they’d basically invited her in.

“2 down, 1 too go” She spoke just before halting her steps. Peeking into the door on her right.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Clint’s voice appeared in her ear. Wondering why the recently departed widow had stopped

“Another one…A woman.” She paused. “Do you think she knows about the weapons?” She continued.

“Well it’s not like you can walk in there and talk to her about it, I’d say no. Take her out and let’s get this done, I have a dinner party to get too.” The archer replied. He had climbed down from the tree and slowly walked his way towards the 2 big double doors.

-

Your head snapped towards the cameras when you heard the alarm go off. Checking each one of them to see nothing but a glimpse of red hair and an arrow.

Sprinting down the hall, you’d reached the break room, opening the doors to see if one of your coworkers had set the alarm off. Only to find them all on the floor and one of them bleeding throughout their nose.

Quickly dialing security, you told them you needed backup.

-

“You idiot! Who doesn’t check the doors before going into a building, with a million dollar weaponized security system?!” Natasha was pissed. They’d waiting in a stupid vent for 7 days, an entire week to steal the systems hard drive. All for Clint to try and open the doors at 12am. Setting off all the alarms.

“In my defense, there was no more people to let me in since you’d knocked them all out. And I couldn’t get the other one to let me in because you were too busy drooling all over her.” Clint threw his arrows back into the vent, settling down just in time to watch the security guards rush past them.

“I wasn’t drooling over her, I just thought maybe she knew something. She didn’t even look like a security guard.” Natasha thinks back to when she’d seen you twirl around in the spinny chair.

“Oh let me guess, she looked like a princess?” The Barton man whispered.

Yeah..

Yeah, she did.

-

“I saw a flash of red hair, and then what looked like an arrow.. I don’t know if it was an arrow tho.. I mean. Who carry’s around arrows anymore?” You questioned out loud to your boss.

“The boy, Katness Everdeen from the avengers does!” Mike, a coworker had joked. Making the others laugh.

“This isn’t a time to joke. It’s serious. Someone tried to get into the building and your joking around? Are you fucking kidding me?” Your boss, Chris yelled. Making the others stop laughing.

“Come on man, clearly no one got inside the building, if they did. We’d have seen. We do have some of the best security cameras.” Mike stood up, trying to calm Chris down.

“Whatever, get back to work. See if you can find anything” Chris walked out.

“We’ve check the cameras over and over again. We didn’t see anything!” Jake, another coworker yelled out the door.

“Check again!” Chris replied.

You did feel a presence watching you.. but maybe that was just your imagination.. right? I mean Mike was right. There was absolutely nothing on the cameras. Maybe you just needed some sleep.

[prettynice8]

Kinkmas Day 19: Spanking

Pairing: Megumi Fushiguro x male reader

This guy

Warnings: Kissing, no actual sexy times, jealousy, marking, funishment, BDSM? spanking DUH

Word count: 1147

You were just having a normal conversation with Yuji, who's probably the sweetest person you know.

"I fucking hate that geriatric fuck of a principal." You stated sourly, referring to the Kyoto school's principal, the weird guitar dude.

"He is pretty weird." Yuji agreed, not quite sharing your fiery hatred of the man.

"That whole Kyoto school is pretty weird, except for Todo I don't like any of them." You exclaimed.

"You like Todo?" he asked, surprised that you would like someone such as him.

"He's a silly guy, and hot, just a loveable teddy bear that I want to plow me." You said bluntly and with a straight face. It was after this declaration of thinking someone is kind of attractive is when Megumi appeared seemingly out of nowhere.

"Who's hot?" Megumi asked a little too quickly.

"Just Todo." You responded.

"Why?" He questioned again, "He's just a big fanboy who's dumber than rocks."

"Big being the operative word here." You said, catching Megumi off guard.

"He still calls me his brother; I don't know what's up with that." Yuji said.

"Well clearly not, compared to you he looks like a hunchback." You joked, causing both you and Yuji to giggle, while Megumi's face remained emotionless, maybe even a tad frustrated.

"No one compares to your beauty." Yuji joked back, bringing up even more laughter.

"Period." You said, then snapping your fingers. This causes Yuji to burst out into laughter, even gaining a smile from Megumi.

"Straight boys like you love me when I do that." You exclaimed, referring to Yuji.

"Bold of you to assume I'm straight." Yuji said before kissing your cheek, causing you to unknowingly blush. That's when Megumi breaks his long-standing silence.

"That reminds me why I'm over here. Y/N, could you come with me?" Megumi asked, seeming semi upset.

"What about Yuji saying, 'Bold of you to assume I'm straight' and then kissing me reminds you of coming over here?" You asked, a little snicker coming from Yuji in the background.

"Just come with me." Megumi demanded before grabbing your arm, pulling you away from poor sweet Yuji.

"Holy shit fine, got the message." You said, Megumi is still pulling you along with him.

"Goodbye Pookie." Yuji called out as you were being dragged away.

"Byesie daisies, love of my life." You called back, causing you both to giggle at each other, this also makes Megumi hold on to your arm tighter and walk faster.

"So, what did you want?" You asked. Megumi stays silent, just dragging you along with him to who knows where and to do who knows what, hopefully fucking.

You were a bit of a man whore, having mini crushes on Yuji, Megumi, Yuta, and even your teacher Gojo. If any of those men made a move, you would be putty in their hands, which is exactly what you are when Megumi brings you to his room and instantly shuts the door, slams you against the wall, and begins to kiss you roughly.

You obviously reciprocate, hands already going to undo the buttons of his shirt, but he stops you after only popping the first two.

"Stop." He ordered simply, holding your hands between his own. "You need to be punished."

"Punished?" You questioned, looking at him with your hand, now gone from his grasp, resting on your popped hip. "We're not in Fifty Shaded of fucking Gray here."

"Shut up." He said simply, which you obey, already getting caught up in his dick sand.

He then proceeds to pull up his comfy spinny chair, sitting down on it and gesturing for you to get on his lap, which you do quickly. He returns to kissing you, his tongue entering your mouth.

He dominates your tongue with ease, even putting it between his teeth and lightly biting it. He then takes your tongue out of his mouth and proceeds to go down to your neck.

He leaves light kisses throughout, with the occasional lick or two. For such an anti-social weirdo he really seems like he knows what he's doing, which is only further proven when his light kisses turn into rough bites.

He wants people to know who you belong to, and they will after he's done with you.

Megumi then flips you over, so your stomach is on his legs, your pants are also gone, all of which happening within an instant and before you could even tell what's going on.

"Wha-" He cuts you off.

"Like I said, you need to be punished for being such a fucking slut." He's rubbing your bare ass all the while, not that you're complaining.

He does this for a while until suddenly and without warning slaps your ass the force of a truck. You scream from the pain, though not just because it hurts. A bright red handprint starts to form on your left cheek. He goes back to rubbing your ass sensually, almost as if he didn't just hit you there mere seconds earlier.

"Told you." Which is all Megumi says before going straight back to slapping your other cheek. You scream even louder this time because his slap was even harder, if that's even possible.

"Ready?" Megumi asked, catching you off guard since he didn't ask the two times he previously did this. You answer with a nod, but that's not good enough for him. "Use your words."

"Yes." You answered quickly. That's all Megumi needs before going back to slapping you bare ass, this time going one spank after another.

He almost has a rhythm with it, going one after the other in perfect timing. The sounds of his spanking, along with your screaming/moaning fill the room and probably the hallway. His slaps are truly relentless.

At first it just hurt like a bitch, maybe a slight undertone of sexual pleasure, but now you are moaning your ass off, literally. Tears begin to form in your eyes from the pain of his continuous slaps.

You start to think that it will never end, both terrifying and exciting. You belong to belief all at once. But sadly(?), he stops his force of 1,000 supernova spankings.

Megumi sensually rubs your completely red and sensitive ass, putting it back on his lap as he wipes the tears from your eyes.

"Did you learn your lesson?" He asked, giving you a kind smile that completely contrasts what he was just doing.

"Fuck off." You started before getting up and off his lap, heading out the door, but before you did you offered a wink to Megumi and then kissed his cheek. "Hopefully."

He begins to blush, his confident persona totally forgotten at your act of affection.

You walk into the hallway, walking down to your own room, rubbing your sore and hurt ass. That's when Yuji runs into you.

"What the fuck happened?" He asked.

THE END

[finelinevogue]

grounded

summary - you ground sirius and he grounds you.

word count - 1k

pairing - sirius black x black-cat!reader

•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•

The music and cheers were loud downstairs.

It was James’ birthday after all, so of course a big celebration was in order.

You, the boys and some others had put it all together last minute. Remus and Sirius had bought drinks off someone in the year above, who definitely overcharged them, to fuel the fun. You had helped Lily put up decorations.

It was about 2 hours in to the party now and you’d slipped away.

You’d originally headed to the toilets after feeling a bit lightheaded from drinking so much, but instead found yourself laying flat on Sirius’ bed and ogling the star constellations that were carved into the ceiling of his framed bed.

There was the constellation of Orion, with Sirius carved out a little deeper than the others. The stars were joined together by shaky lines.

You smiled at you tilted your head to the star constellation next to Orion; your constellation. You hadn’t carved it, Sirius had.

He liked looking up at night and seeing you so close to him, if not in the direct sense.

The sound of the door creaked open then and you noticed Sirius stumble in, making your smile widen.

He was wearing a vintage patterned sweater with some black jeans, and his hair was half tied back with one of your bobbles just the way he likes it.

“Hello, you.” He smirked as he walked in.

“Fancy seeing you here.” You chuckled.

Sirius crossed the room and sat on the bed beside where your torso lay.

His hand came up to stroked back the loose hairs that had fallen upon your forehead. You quickly caught the opportunity to kiss his palm whilst you could.

“You’re affectionate tonight.” Sirius teased.

It was a long running joke about how the two of you had black-cat personalities and that you shouldn’t gel as well as you do, because of how unaffectionate you were to everyone. Turns out when you’re together, alone and together to be clear, you were the most affectionate people.

Sirius tried to bring you out of your shell as often as he could, but you were adamant about keeping that side of yourself concealed just for him.

“Mm,” You brought your own hand up to cup his cheek, “It’s ‘cause you’re so pretty.”

Sirius dipped his head to blush, even though you could see his cheeks burn pink. It made you smile.

“Pretty? Try, handsome.” Sirius tried to make himself seem more of a masculine adjective.

You laughed, “No! Pretty!”

“Oh alright,” Sirius gave up before be could start, “Only ‘cause I love you.”

You hummed in support.

Sirius leaned down, supporting himself by resting his hands on the pillow either side of your head. You thought he was going to instantly kiss you, but he stopped just a few spaces away from his nose touching yours.

“And you’re so pretty too.”

This time it was your turn to blush over his words.

You pretend to be not affected by his words, but the glint in your eye and the dimples that popped out onto your cheeks made him know otherwise.

“You’re super affectionate tonight too.” You snorted, “Probably ‘cause you’re drunk.”

“Yeah, drunk on love.”

Sirius didn’t let you cringe over that comment as he pressed his lips to yours, coating your spirit flavoured lips with his beer flavoured ones.

You would’ve despised the taste on anyone else but him. Sirius was too intoxicating for you to care about anything other than how he made you feel.

Sirius moved his head to the other side and you followed his lead, your body slightly moving upwards, body pressing up into his, as you chased his lips with yours.

Sirius pulled off you, only to spy your swollen lips and being enchanted once more to kiss you.

This time it was a shorter kiss and more loving.

He pulled away slowly, leaving you wanting much kid than he’d given you.

“Why are you hiding up here anyway?” He asked.

“Because I felt spinny.”

“Spinny?” Sirius chuckled.

“Mhm.”

“And how do you feel now?”

“Grounded.” Your small smile was enough to make Sirius kiss you again, pushing his lips against yours as much as he could. It was almost like the two of you couldn’t stand the thought of being so apart.

“‘Cause of me.” Sirius gloated.

“No, you idiot. ‘Cause of the stars.” You nodded your head towards the bed frame ceiling.

Sirius toppled over your body then, collapsing on his back over your torso. His head laid on your stomach and it rose and fell with each of your breaths.

Your hand went to get lose in his hair, stroking it back piece by piece to settle Sirius.

“They ground me too.” He spoke softly.

“It’s probably because it’s a reminder of us. We’ll always be together here, carved into the wood of your bed, even if we’re apart in distance.”

“Never apart forever though, right?” He asked, a hint of insecurity behind his tone.

You instantly sat up, getting over the dizziness, and leaning your head over his this time. You cupped his chin with one hand, the other still coming through his hair.

“That’s right.” You smiled, giving him a kiss to solidify that silent promise you’d just made him.

“Now just stay there, I want to admire you for a minute.” His voice so quiet and the party so loud.

“But what about the party?” You spoke in Sirius’ hushed tone.

“Ssh. I’m admiring.”

[robertseanleonardthinker]

house and wilson r both autistic and on complete opposite ends of the spectrum

(bear with me here i'm autistic myself and it's hard to articulate my thoughts)

wilson masks heavily. he knows he's different than everyone else and he tries so desperately not to be. he wants to be seen as a normal guy. he's the furthest thing from it but nobody needs to know that if he can help it. he knew he was different since he was a kid and it upset him. he worked so hard to create an image of himself that is palatable. he is very concious abt it. he clings to normalcy. his knuckles r white and his nails r digging into it. the only person he is ok with letting go of it for is house. house is is safe space. house is the one person he knows will not care if he acts a little different.

house, however, doesn't mask very much at all. if he wanted to, he probably could (although i also partially think he couldn't) but he doesn't. he just doesn't give a shit. he doesn't care abt what ppl think and he doesn't rlly care how he affects them either. he says what is on his mind. he is the way he is and he feels no shame for it. social rules r stupid and he doesn't respect them. he doesn't respect any rules.

wilson is primarily sensory avoident. he likes peace and calm. he especially doesn't like visual overstimulation. he likes things to be neat and pristine. when his space is organized, he can function. his environment influences the state of his head.

house is very sensory seeking. he thrives in chaos. he needs the outside world to be as fast and loud and hectic as his mind is. he needs noise and things to look at and something in his hand (his stupid red autism ball). he's never doing nothing when he's thinking. he likes soap operas and crappy reality tv partially because it's good background noise. it doesn't take up much brain power, but it's still a constant noise.

wilson has big body language. he is very expressive. i know this is rlly bc rsl is a stage actor and that's what they do but. let me have this. but that's just how he is. every symptom of autism exists on its own spectrum. some autistics have a very flat affect, very little body language, and very little expressions. some (wilson) have the exact opposite.

house doesn't outwardly show many of his emotions. he definitely feels them, they're very intense, but he doesn't display them. he isn't expressive, and it's not by choice. that's just naturally how he is.

this is more of a headcanon but whatever. wilson likes stim toys. he stims subtly (part of him trying to cling to normalcy. he needs to stim and he knows that but he won't do anything like hand flapping or rocking.), like with a fidget cube or one of those spinny rings. when he's alone, he'll sometimes let himself stim in bigger ways and it's a great release. he doesn't rlly need to stim as much as house does tho. also i think he'd love pressure and cuddling for stimulation. he'd like to be squished.

house is always stimming. this isn't a headcanon. this man is always doing something! pacing, playing with his ball, listening to music, he's always doing something for some sort of stimulation. he likes vestibular stimming and big full body stims best. he likes to move and do things. he likes to be busy. a fidget toy won't do much for him. he was a pretty active person before the infarction, and that was a great release for his emotions. but now he can't do the things he used to so he needs to constantly be moving. he doesn't get a big release so he's just constantly letting it out.

they're both very particular abt their ways of living, but they do not live the same way. wilson likes calm, house likes chaos. if this is disturbed, they get upset and distressed.

wilson has more shutdowns, house has more meltdowns. not to say they don't have both, tho.

also i feel the need to say this: house's special interest is humanity. he loves puzzles and humans are the greatest one of them all. everything he does is motivated by his need to know why people do what they do. oh and also monster trucks.

[lokidips]

How would loki react if he had an accident infornt of anyone :<

apologies anon, this turned from an imagine to a short fic. I hope this is okay <3

thank you for sending this in!!

Set in New Asgard, AU everyone lives

1425 words. age regression, mentioned diapers, accidents

The meeting wasn’t supposed to go so long. It was only set from eleven to eleven-thirty, but it was well into one now. Loki wouldn’t be bothered by this if it weren’t for the fact that it was almost ten minutes past his usual nap time, and he was beginning to feel quite sleepy. He had kicked Thor’s leg under the table a few times to remind him, but his big brother had leaned over a moment later and quietly told him to be patient. Which wasn’t fair at all, in his opinion. He didn’t even want to be here in the first place, the only reason he was, was because Thor didn’t want to leave him at home alone. And if he was honest, he didn’t like being alone, so that was a welcome decision, he just wished they had fun jobs to do, instead of sitting here for ages listening to old men talk about selling fish.

He had been woken quite rudely this morning too. Thor had slept in and therefore so had Loki. He had been shaken awake, quickly dressed and ushered out the bedroom for toast on the go. Not even a bottle, which he hadn’t detested openly only because he had been too dazed to comprehend what was happening. He had asked why Brunnhilde couldn’t just babysit him, but she was at the meeting too, sitting right across from him. When he had been twisting his spinny chair back and forth, she had smiled at him and lifted a finger to her lips. The chair was a bit too squeaky.

Someone began to raise their voice from across the table and it startled Loki, where he was trying to sit still. He felt strangely wriggly, he supposes he was quite bored. The shouting continued with several people joining in, before Brunnhilde shouted over the top of them to be quiet. Loki sighed in relief. He was starting to get cranky too, today hadn’t gone very nicely. He tried not to be grumpy with Thor, because he knew running a village was hard, but he just wished it didn’t have to ruin his morning.

Loki glanced over at his older brother. He looked a bit cranky as well, maybe they could both have a nap!

He shifted again in his seat, before he froze.

Why—?

Why was he wet? He had a nappy on, didn’t he? That wasn’t right. The nappy usually wicked away any wetness, Thor never let him get uncomfortable if he could help it. He glanced down and barely contained a startled squeak. He was soaked.

Oh no. Thor had forgotten! Loki remembered now. He had gotten out of his nighttime nappy, but Thor must have been in such a rush that he had forgotten to get him into a fresh daytime one. How was he going to hide this? What if the meeting went on for hours more and he had sit here. He was probably already getting a rash.

He bit down on his bottom lip when it started to tremble and folded his hands in his lap, to hide his accident and to resist sucking his thumb. He scooted his chair closer to the table.

Would Thor be mad? No, no that wouldn’t make sense. Loki had had accidents when he refused to wear a diaper and he hadn’t been angry, surely he wouldn’t when he hadn’t even realised he was without one.

Brunnhilde was looking at him now, but Loki was too scared to look up from the table. He was trying really hard not to cry. All he wanted was his pacifier and to curl up in Thor’s bed, it was warm there and his wet pants were starting to grow cold.

At the corner of his eye, he watched Brunnhilde lean over to Thor and whisper something, before returning to her seat and calling for the council’s attention.

Loki felt a tap on his arm and forced himself to look up and meet Thor’s eye. He didn’t look angry, he look worried. Thor leant in closer to whisper, “are you alright?”

Once, Loki may have lied and said yes. Now though, he knew Thor wanted him to be honest, not convenient. He could feel himself slipping more and more and he was starting to feel really yucky. Loki shook his head. No, he wasn’t alright.

Thor just frowned and ran a hand over Loki’s arm, before leaning back to say something to Brunnhilde, who was wrapping the meeting up. Council members were starting to stand and leave the room. Brunn stood too and seemed to be ushering them out with more vigour this time. Loki felt his shoulders begin to sag with both relief and exhaustion.

Thor left his chair to stand over Loki and pass words with the people leaving, all while keeping a hand firm on Loki’s shoulder.

When they had all finally left the room, Thor immediately crouched down to Loki’s level and pinned him with a searching gaze. Loki didn’t like it and looked back at the table.

“Loki?”

His vision was beginning to blur, and he knew he was pouting in an attempt to not cry. But it was pointless, everyone was gone and he just wanted—he wanted Thor.

He let out a sob and brought up a fist in a futile attempt to wipe away the tears that began to cascade down his flushed cheeks.

“Hey, hey,” he heard Thor say, before he was pulled sideways in a hug. It was nice and warm, but he was still wet and cold. He cried harder, not at all perturbed when Brunnhilde sidled back into the room. A hand rubbed up his back.

“I didn’t think a missed nap would upset you so much,” Thor said, his voice rumbling through his chest pleasantly. But that wasn’t it! Loki let out an exceptionally loud wail to get across his discontent.

“Thor, you might want to get him up.”

There was a pause, before Loki was hefted to his feet by hands under his armpits. He opened his eyes and watched as Thor and Brunnhilde took him in. Simultaneous realisation passed through both their faces, and Loki may have laughed it weren’t for how keenly aware he was of how his jeans stuck to his legs. He kept his arms held high at his shoulders, as if he could distance himself from his own mess.

“Oh, Loki… I’m so sorry.”

At the sound of Thor’s sympathy and guilt, Loki began to wail and sob in earnest.

He was pulled into strong arms again, and the large hand returned to his back. They stayed like that for a short while, but it didn’t take long for Loki to grow fussy and start tugging at his pants. Perhaps if he could just get them off…

Thor pulled his hands away gently, before pulling off his own sweater. “Not yet brother, we need to get you home.” He tugged the sweater over Loki’s head. It was too big and hung over his fingers and almost came down to his knees. It hid his accident, he realised. Thor was very smart, he concluded in that moment, even if he forgot Loki’s diaper that morning.

“You can go out the back door,” Brunnhilde said to their left. Loki almost jumped, he had forgotten she was there. “Away from the people’s eyes.” Loki watched Thor nod, before he started to gather the papers on the table. Brun grabbed them from his hands, however.

“I’ll take care of those, you focus on Loki.” She turned to Loki then, giving him an uncharacteristically soft smile and running a hand through his hair before she turned on her heel and headed out the door.

Thor took his hand and headed straight for the opposite door, the one that lead to the back of the village. Brunnhilde was really smart too, he realised as they stepped outside and began their trek up the hill to their cabin.

There was no one on this side of the village, only the occasional rabbit, so Loki finally put his thumb between his teeth.

Loki sniffled and turned to look up at Thor.

“T’or?”

“Hm?”

“Boddle n’ na’?” He asked around his thumb. Thor chuckled and turned to give Loki a smile. Loki liked his big brother’s smile.

“Yeah, Lo. A bottle and a nap, just for you.”

Loki smiled back.

“As soon as you have a bath and get a nappy on.”

He couldn’t argue with that, not this time.

[gigglealongshiney-shadow-watcher]

Continue from this the Opal vr John fight. Winner was John.

(This takes place after the grounded event. So the continuity is a bit out of order. )

Trigger warnings for child suffering, delusional rambling, bleeding out, and possible disturbing imagery.

Opal's body pushes blood to heal the open wound, but her arm can't heal around the knife's touch. It's killing her. Without any fallback systems in place for her biology made by a God, there's no way for her to recover. Her legs weaken, and some snap off to prioritize the major wound. They crash to the ground loudly. No one dares leave their homes.

Her eyes wander, but there's nothing worth focusing on down there. How long before he comes to drive the knife into the rest of her body? She dropped the lady, and he said he'd hurt her worse than anything she felt if the lady died. He couldn't be dead, because he said something after he fell.

(Cut for length) for the singing, tunes inspired by nowhere king, candy hearts and paper flowers, and some of my own tune.

Opal

Phillip

How long did he want her to wait for? Maybe she should try to...run? With what? Did she have legs? She looked for them, and it looked like she did, but they felt like nothing. They weren't real anymore. That's nice, she doesn't need to think about legs anymore.

The blue soaks into her body from the puddle and comes back out. She watches it grow. It's pretty, and it glows a little, like a melted star. Is she full of stars? They must've melted inside her. She laughs and tries to touch the stars with her fingers, but the hand isn't listening to her right now.

Everything is dizzy and spinny. She doesn't want to be on the merry-go-round anymore. It's making her sick. She turns, and more stars leave her mouth. It hurts, stars hurt when they leave like that. The star puddle is cold. It feels good, she's too melty inside. Maybe the stars can help her up into the sky when they leave.

This must be how stars are born. They die and turn into rain bits. She liked cold rain, colder than the water cups in the kitchen. Then they come back out and have to fly away again. They'll want to take their mama with them. She didn't want to be a mama, but her stars make the meltedness in her hurt less, so it's ok. She can be their mama. The star puddle isn't flying away yet, maybe they're too scared.

"Iss...ok...t' fly." She could fly. When did she fly? Flying was fun, right? She was small, small babies flew away to neverland, someone said that once. Was she small enough to go to neverland? The stars could come with her. The stars will take her there. "T'nk you stars."

She's breathing for some reason. It rocks her head a little. It's nice, so she keeps doing that. There's a rocking chair in auntie's room that makes a little sound like a donkey. Auntie is dead now, like everyone else. She feels sad. Is anyone still alive, or is she all alone? They're waiting for her so the games can end and they can go home.

She tries to remember a name to give to auntie. It's not there. None of the names are there. Where did her name go? Someone lost their name in a forest. She lost her name there too and now she couldn't say her name or the forest girl's name. The only name that she could find was...

Phillip. That was a special name. It makes her head hurt less to think about. Phillip. Phillip is a special name that matters more than anything. Why is it so important? "Please...tell me..."

Phillip sat on the rocking chair with her. Phillip found crayons she could see. Phillip didn't laugh at her for not seeing anything but what the big people said was blue and yellow. Why wasn't everything blue now? Phillip was a special name. A forever name. He has her name and she has his. She hopes he brings her name back, she wants to see it again. He must miss his name too. He gave it to her, and now it's smudged and cracked. She got it all dirty when... when... She wasn't up here before, but where did she drop the name for it to get so messy?

Phillip would be mad she got his name dirty. He says it's ok when she drops her drawing in her food. Names are like drawings too. You make one and it's yours but you can give it to other people. Phillip drew lots of pictures with her. He doesn't draw anymore. Would he be mad?

She closes her eyes. The star puddle hasn't left yet... Phillip is a good name, it's an important name. Phillip said they'd get old together and go to Florida, his mom said that's where the old people go. Florida had alligators, those were cool. Maybe Phillip is in Florida waiting for her.

It feels good to close her eyes. It's good so she does it. The meltedness in her isn't as bad anymore, the stars are taking it out of her. They're so nice to her, it was too melty inside for her. It's good on her...what? Skin, that's what it is.

Phillip. It's important. He's important so important, where is he? She's shaking, and now the star puddle is too cold. It hurts! She tries to get away from the star puddle, they're mad at her because she didn't give them attention. That's what bad mamas get, pain for being bad. She's bad at being a mama, she doesn't want to be one at all.

"Help me..." She starts to cry. Why does it hurt? Her face is cold, and it's a bad feeling. It's so confusing, it's so dark, where did everything go? It hurts so much, he's back. He's come back and stabbed the knife in her eyes and it's dark forever he's going to stab her forever and she's in the dark now-

Something touches her arm. "You need to open those to get out of the dark." It's Phillip... he taps her eyes. She tries to open them, and it's hard to see anything. Her eyes hurt so much.

"Hi there." He's laying next to her on his chest, frowning at her. Phillip looks just like he does on the rocking chair.

"H-hi." She tries to focus on him.

"You got beat up again. I'm sorry I wasn't able to fight off Glen this time, I thought he was grounded." Phillip looks over her at something far away. "...that's not true, is it? That happened a long time ago, Opal. That's not why you're crying. You got hurt really badly today." Opal...that was her name...right?

Opal, the name still didn't feel right, reaches for him. He was important, but something was still missing. Why was Phillip so important? "It hurts..."

Phillip takes her hand and pulls her up to lean on the entrance to the roof. "It's all done now, no more make believe. Now we can go home and play something else."

"What do you mean?" Opal pulls away from him and falls back on the floor. Something is wrong. Something is bad. "What’s make believe?" The words feel familiar but they don't belong. "No, no it's wrong."

Phillip stares at her with disappointment. "Why can't you just play along? Why can't you just accept this? Look at me. I'm here! I'm perfect looking, isn't that enough for you? Why isn't this good enough to just go along with?"

Opal chokes and coughs, more blood pouring out of her mouth before she could ask him what's going on. Phillip growls and hits his open palm into her chest and makes her cough even harder. "Stop!"

"All you had to do was say ok! That's why you always got hurt! You can't just accept it, can you? You always need to know more, and it hurts everyone else! You couldn't just be happy with your eyes. You couldn't just be happy being Pokotho's special girl. You couldn't just be happy with your body and you made a mess of everything! It's all your fault! You know it is!"

Opal sobs and curls away from him. "I don't understand, what are you saying?"

Phillip rolls his eyes and stomps on her knife broken arm. "You're the worst friend in the world, Opal. Why do you get to fade away in a friendly happy little daze and I had to die that day in the battle? Why did you get to live? Why did you get to leave and do all those wonderful things when you don't even care enough to stay put? It's stupid! I hate you, I hate you because you got everything you wanted and I didn't get anything. You're the worst."

Phillip turns and stomps away. "What did I- why- wait..." Opal cries and curls into a ball. Her arms are too big, and her legs are too big and she's all alone. Opal is alone and Opal will always be alone. Opal doesn't deserve Phillip. Opal is useless.

The time ticks by, Opal and she wishes it would tick away and take her already. Opal is tired and in pain and hates all of this. Opal hates John for doing this to her. Opal hates everyone who left her like this and never stopped to ask her what Opal wanted. No one cared about her enough to think about her as anything but a servant. Or a cute pet to play mommy with. Opal hates life and every last bit of it because it only ever led her to more and more pain until she finally got here, and now Opal could finally lay down and die and leave this awful world behind. Opal can see it all and curse it for being there. Opal is tired. Opal gives up on it all and closes herself off from anything and everything forever. Opal is dying. Opal is dead.

............................

She opens her eyes and tries to find warmth. She watches her tears fall onto the floor and they sparkle at her kindly. She's sad to see them fade.

Through her arms, she sees something move in a stuttery, slow crawl. It pushes and wiggles itself into view. He tilts his head towards her and a sleepy eye meets hers. "I'm...late, but I'm here."

It's the voice, the good voice that makes her think of nice things like the flower around his neck. A flower she knows. "Are you..."

"I think so." He doesn't have much of a mouth to smile with, but he uses what there is to try. He rolls closer to her. "You are too."

She looks at him. "Do you want them?"

He nods. "Can I?"

She shakily opens her bag. Inside, in a shaped lining are his arms.

One is cleanly cut by Pokey without her permission, the other ripped and torn free. She pulls out the clean one first and he pushes himself up on the arm. Holding the second, she threads her hand through its fingers and he takes it back and squeezes her hand back.

Most of his face is gone, and the metal shards in the exposed bones of his skull poke out like spikes. "I missed you." He says. "You haven't visited in a while, but that's ok."

She leans on his arm. "I...broke it." Something broke that meant everything to her. What was it? Something tumbled out of her chest and lay between them. It was shattered. She had broken his candy heart. "I-I'm so sorry..." She starts to cry harder, shoulders shaking.

He hugs her close, and his flower brushes her neck. "You kept it, and that's what matters. I kept your flower, and now we're back together again." He doesn't breathe, but he's warm. "We can make new ones."

She leans against him and he helps her rest against the door downstairs. He curls up with her and looks at the stars in the sky. He's stained with the same thing she is. He's warm, and she's not, so she pulls him closer. He tries to smile again and holds her hand. "Where?"

"Up in the sky, we were gonna go together." He rests his head on top of hers. "We can always whether the weather~." He sings a bit of the tune she knows deep in her core.

"That's what keeps us together..." She sings it back. It's right. It's the song she wants and it's the song that is him. It's the song that is her.

His voice is the good one that she sings with all the time. Everyday they sing together. Everyday is better with him. "Candy hearts and paper flowers, sunset skies, with hundred' hues."

Rhymes and songs we sang, for hours. Words to say I'll love you true.

Times get bad, and then I worry! How I'll ever see it through... but our candy hearts and paper flowers, will always keep me close to you.

Will always keep me close to you!

He sings softer now, and his hands are in hers the way she wishes they were more. He hugs her arm the way that she hugs his when they aren't in the bag.

I'm sorry for breaking your promise, can you even still look at me?

I told you once and now again friend, we'll make a new one so let it be.

But is it hurtful to be with me? When I was so bad to you.

Hey, now, this candy heart is still a-loving, and that love is forever true.

She cries and changes the song, trying to meet him in the connection and joy of sharing music together.

I, missed you and I love you so much, I, wanted to grow you a bunch...of paper flowers so you could be joyful and such, I love you too.

Long days in a rut that was us, happy campers but the reasons turned to mush, so now on the edge of the pain ending rush! I'll hold you close.

They sing together, whatever things they want to say, all coming through in rhyme and lyric until she...starts to lose track of her words. They aren't making sense anymore. He finishes the song, and she tries her best to keep up.

We can, do anything now just come and, hold me close and then, we'll fly! Fly up in the beyond! You and me! Joyful and finally free, as the sunrise, blinds both of our eyes!

Candy, papers will wrap up the candy, flowers and hearts go side by side, and they're bound all their lives.

All their lives...

So now we, paper and candy go swiftly, hurry and run for the starlight! Run to the ground, below~.

For now that we can be eternally,

reunited, let's go live our lives!

We're united...let's go live our lives~

He smiles and takes her by the hand, the other rest on her cheek over the cut in her mouth. "It's time to go."

She closes her eyes and a small spark lights in her mind. Those words meant something a long time ago...

"Mmaaaamaaaaaaaa gooooo!"

A lady in white puts away her phone and looks at her lovingly. "Ok baby! Are you ready for the super duper tough workout?"

"Ya!!"

She gets on the lady's shoulders and she buckles and dramatically wobbles around. "Wooahhhhh I can't stay up! It's too tough a workout! Nooo, I'm gonna fall!"

"No! No no fall!"

The lady makes effort noises and puts her down on the table. "Phewwww, maybe we should just stay home today, I'm pooped." She grins.

"Noooooo! Candy!"

"Hmmm? What's wrong? Ohh I said we would go get some candy after going to the big gym! WelI I guess I have to then!" She laughs and takes her hand. "Alright. Time to go, kiddo!"

He waits for her and looks at the sky. "Are you ready?"

She shakes her head. "There's...more...need the lady first..."

He nods. "Ok, how do I get her?"

"Gotta...be alone looking..."

"I'll be right here waiting, ok? We're gonna make a new candy heart for you, and a new paper flower for me! Right?"

"Mmmmmmm...yeah, wait for me."

He kisses her forehead and hugs her arm tightly. "I did before, and I always will. Cuz I love you." His only leg is bent to go over some of her legs.

"Love you too...friends in...in..." She's so dizzy, and the stars are twinkling around her like little fairies.

"Friends in every weather, friends always together, friends until the very end of time!" He recites it better than she can. He drags himself out of her sight and she lays on her arms. She can't see anything anymore and her head is quiet.

It's a nice quiet. She can't go without the lady and tries really really hard to be loud. It takes all her power to do it. "Lady in white! I'm- I'm ready to go! I'm...ready to go White lady...go...up..." She smiles and closes her eyes.

It's time to go.

@thesiblingsoftheblackandwhite

[intergalactic-garbage]

octavian wet cat headcanons

@odysseus-crewmate-number38 and i have decided that there has been enough of rick's writing which transparently only made octavian an object onto which to project hate, rather than a character. because i am the sexiest and smartest person on the planet, i understand octavian better than rr, and know that what he is actually meant to be is a traditionally queer-coded, camp, homosexual villain, who enjoys being a villain immensely. the following are a compilation of ody and mine's absolutely true and fully verified octavian facts (he told me):

his little augur rituals are like drag performances

in which i don't means he dresses up in drag but rather that he's exaggerated and dramatic

he does the thing where he rubs his grubby little hands together

he's the type to say "well well well look what the cat dragged in"

light in the office opens dramatically as octavians spinny chair turns to the door

’i’ve been expecting you’

he’s done this 12 times already

he says the same name of. the person who hes been expecting. he eventually is right

WHY does octavian's wiki page say his ancestors are VENUS, JUPITER (also apollo obviously) and. a bunch of mortal guys like hercules? what the fuck. guy must be so inbred

his ancestory is just the olympus family tree

but i mean he's a legacy of venus so that explains everything. he's just suffering from a terminal amount of prettyboy syndrome

octavian would wear so much gold. 90 pounds soaking wet 138 pounds with all his robes and jewelery on

he'd get things covered in gold leaf just because he can

his closet takes up the space of like three entire barracks of the cohort

‘where did the funding for the new buildings in camp jupiter go’ . new suspiciously closet shaped building implemented:

BRO COMMITS EMBEZZLEMENT JUST SO HE CAN BUY NEW OUTFIT

not that he doesn't already have enough money. he just likes doing it like this

nobody else is allowed to touch his clothing though. high treason actually

one of his henchmen (bryce) can bc he knows exactly how to handle it and which setting on the washing machine to use with which detergent

oh he’d watch the devil wears prada and base his personality on the boss from that movie

his room has a shrine dedicated to meryl streep actually .reyna accidentally walks in on him once and sees him praying to her. they never talk about it

octavian could deify miranda if he tries hard enough

oh my goddd. do you think his biggest internal conflict during hoo would be "can a girl like me really have more than ONE evil henchman?"

how is he going to strut down the halls in an iconic triad formation if he only has ONE henchman . he has to follow in his ancestors footsteps (heather chandler, chanel oberlein, regian george-)

his henchman no1 is michael kahale, son of venus, who's canonically fit as fuck and pretty close to octavian, headcanonically a gayboy who rolls his eyes and sips his starbucks drink waaaay too loudly when people he doesn't like are talking (he does this in the senate meetings)

his henchman no2 is bryce lawrence, legacy of orcus, god of punishment, who was canonically banished from camp jupiter bc he killed someone, but in boo, octavian takes him back. he's supposed to be really big and burly, with some "traditionally unattractive" traits (which i've decided to allow, as long as michael and octavian call them pretty in a totally infatuated way)

edit: someone said that since he doesn't have a last name, it should be octavian gallo (since it means rooster), and i'm making that canon now

[strangersatellites]

pride, envy, wrath, sloth, greed, lust, ao3

Seven Deadly Sins Series (NSFW 18+)

gluttony (noun) - a sin opposed to the virtue of temperance because it is the immoderate indulgence in the delights of food or drink. Gluttony can involve more than merely eating too much. Drunkenness is also a type of gluttony because it is excessive indulgence in intoxicating drink.

Steve’s drunk.

Hammered really.

His vision is swimming and his head feels heavy as lead and like it weighs nothing all at the same time. 

He’s walking, walking, walking. Going… somewhere.

Where?

He stumbles on a crack in the sidewalk and the only thing that keeps him from hitting the ground is the grip he has around Eddie’s arm.

Eddie!

“Hey, Eddddssss,” He giggles, and Eddie joins him, his snickers carrying out into the quiet night. “Eddie. Eddie, where're we goin’?” He thinks the words make sense but his tongue feels funny and he can’t really be sure if he made any sound.

Eddie’s laser-focused on his feet, working hard at putting one in front of the other. He comes to an abrupt stop and wobbles, unsteady. 

“Home. Is home this way?” He’s looking around fast and Steve thinks he looks like a squirrel. Giggles at the thought.

He tugs at Eddie’s arm. “Yeah. Home is this way.”

It’s a Saturday night and they’ve spent it out at a club with Robin and Nancy. What had started off as casual drinks and dancing quickly devolved, and the next thing Steve knew, he was doing tequila shots and making out with his boyfriend on the dance floor. 

Steve has trouble keeping his hands to himself on a good day. But especially when Eddie’s in leather and chains and his hands are on Steve’s hips and his rings are cold on his skin and his tongue tastes like liquor. 

He’d drug Eddie out by the hand, told Robin they were leaving. Lost count of their drinks somewhere between his fifth rum and coke and his third shot.

Now, plastered against Eddie’s back while he digs around through his pockets for their apartment keys he’s become very aware of just how drunk he is.

He presses his forehead into Eddie’s shoulder and squeezes his eyes shut tight and whines,

“Ed. I feel spinny.” 

The door swings open with a bang and Eddie laughs out an “Oh shit.”

“Eddieeeeeee.”

Steve’s wrapped up in strong arms and he tucks his face into Eddie’s neck. “I heard you sweetheart.” He lifts Steve’s head up with hands on both sides of his face and Steve gets a good look at him and his giggles are set off again.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow but Steve’s laugh is contagious, his own bubbling up in response. “What are you laughing at, giggles?”

And that just makes it worse. Steve barely able to get out any words between. 

He reaches up and pokes at Eddie’s cheek and his eyes go big and wide. 

“There’s two of you.” He leans up and smacks two kisses on Eddie’s lips, tries to anyway. Gets the corner on his second attempt. “Two kisses for two Eddies.”

Both Eddies smile big and bright and he drags Steve back in for a kiss that goes dirty in a second. Teeth and tongues and the leftover taste of rum. His hands grab at Steve’s waist and squeeze, tight, tight, tight and the boy whimpers against his lips in response. 

He pulls away from Eddie and looks so shocked. “Babe,” he hiccups and laughs again. “Babe, I’m so drunk.”

Eddie’s the one that can’t pull it together this time. His “Me too, baby,” barely audible over the sound of his joy. A thought occurs to him and he stands bolt upright and his laughter comes to an abrupt stop when he gasps. “Stevie. Do you wanna have drunk sex?”

Steve’s jaw drops and he’s nodding. Words slurred together when he shoves towards their room, “Yeah, f’r sure. You’re s’smart.”

When his back hits their bed he has to squeeze his eyes shut again, still spinning if he moves too quickly. Eddie is fumbling with his belt buckle and Steve’s reaching down to help when he thinks of it.

“Ed, babe. Eddie. Eddie, what if my dick won’t work.”  

His boyfriend is dropping his head against his stomach and his shoulders shake with his laugh. His hand flattens to pet at Steve’s hips through his jeans that he really, really wants off. 

Eddie hiccups before he crawls up to kiss at Steve’s jaw, wet and sloppy and sticky with alcohol. “Think you’re gonna get whiskey dick, baby?”

Steve grinds his hips up against Eddie’s above him and gets a grunt in response, feels his own body react to the pressure and the lips behind his ear. “No, but like. Maybe. That would be so sad.” He closes his eyes while Eddie sucks a mark into his neck. “So sad.”

He doesn’t know when Eddie’s hand slid back down to his belt but he’s got it undone and his jeans unbuttoned between one blink and the next. His hand sliding down under Steve’s boxers and wrapping around his dick with a squeeze.

Eddie lifts up from his neck and raises his eyebrows. “Feels fine to me. Feels really good.”

If he wasn’t fighting to keep himself from coming in his pants like a teenager he might’ve laughed. He kicks a knee up and shoves Eddie off. “Why are you still wearing clothes, what the fuck?” And the way Eddie’s face screws up it looks like he doesn’t know either. 

Jeans and shirts and jackets and boxers find a home in a pile on the floor and someone will inevitably be looking for their phone later. 

But Eddie’s got his hand wrapped around them both and he’s spitting, sticky and wet over their dicks and Steve can’t be bothered with a thought of anything else. His hands scratch deep welts down Eddie’s back and he hisses at the pain. But the way his cock leaks over Steve’s stomach says it's a good hiss. On one particularly rough upstroke Steve’s orgasm takes him by surprise with a deep groan and his head thrown back. The alcohol flowing through his veins paired with his boyfriend’s guitar pick dangling in his face enough to send him racing to release.

The room is quiet save for harsh breaths and the slick sound of Eddie’s hand on his own skin. But Steve has an idea. He shoves at Eddie’s shoulders until he takes the hint and flops down on his back. Steve shimmies down the bed until he’s laid out between Eddie’s legs. 

He wraps a hand around the base of Eddie’s dick and points it towards his lips and Eddie’s thighs flex, bracing himself for the feeling of being enveloped in Steve’s pretty, pretty mouth. 

“I get up in the evening, and I ain’t got nothing to say.” 

Eddie’s head pops up and looks down. Finds Steve, smiling bright and giggling using his dick like it’s a microphone. 

“I come home in the morning,” He’s got his eyes shut and his eyebrows furrowed and he’s really into it. “I go to bed feeling the same way!”

Eddie brings his hands up to cover his face but he’s laughing so hard no sound comes out. Steve keeps humming when he finally licks at the head and Eddie’s done for. Coming across his tongue the second his lips wrap around the head. He’s trying to catch his breath when he hears Steve’s voice again.

“Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week.”

He drags him back up his body to settle against his chest, still shaking with laughter, with joy. Plants a smacking wet kiss to Steve’s lips and presses their foreheads together. “God, I fucking love you, baby.”

Steve’s smile is blinding-bright and he presses one more chaste kiss against his lips. “I love you more, babe.” His smile goes mischievous and his head tilts to the side, the picture of innocence. “Can’t wait to tell your friends you came to Bruce Springsteen.” 

Eddie holds his hands up in surrender. “Hey, I blame whiskey dick.”

It's hours before their giggles settle enough to fall asleep.

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Little Bunny 1

Yandere William Afton/Steve Raglan x reader

Dead dove do not eat! - you will get exactly what's in the tags!

Tags: FNAF, mature themes, William Afton(That guy is a warning himself)

William's obsession with you starts slowly.

Note: Hi! I am lowkey feeling nervous posting this since this is my first ever published content on Tumblr. Pls don't go too harsh on me. :( but Part 2 and 3 coming very soon!!

You moved in town a couple of days ago, you got yourself a place with a good friend of yours who offered you to share. You were thankful of her offer. As soon as you moved in, you were trying out jobs, but none of them were good for you since either your boss was an complete dick or your coworkers were perverts.

"Hey, I got a career councellor for you, I've heard he had given many people jobs. People said he's very friendly." Your friend gave you his card, 'Steve Raglan'

"Really?" You raised an eyebrow at her, not really buying it,

"Yes, really." She smiled at you, "Think about it. I am sure he has something in mind for you."

"But how can he have something for me if I already tried almost every job there was?" You asked her and she gave you a weak smile,

"Trust me, I had a friend there who said he gave him a job that wasn't even 'officially' available. Haven't heard of him in a while though." Your friend shrugged.

"Thank you, but I don't know where to go." You sighed,

"Don't worry, all I need is your file with every information about you. But I will help you." She smiled at you with a warm, reassuring smile.

You and your friend got everything ready, she showed you the building where Steve Raglan's office is located at and handed your file in. Both of you were waiting in the waiting room of the building. People walked in and out, the typing of some computers can be heard in the background and after some time of waiting a secretary came up to you,

"You're here for Steve Raglan?" She asked with a smile and you nodded, "Good. Follow me, please." she beckoned you and you followed behind her. As soon as you arrived his office the woman left and you stood infront of Raglan's office door. There was a gold plate with purple writing on it saying 'Mr. Raglan'. So you knocked on the door softly, trying not to disturb if anyone else was there.

"Come in." a warm voice said and you slowly opened the door, as you entered, you could smell fresh coffee, the office looked inviting, modern equipment with a touch of vintage.

There he was, Steve Raglan, sitting in his spinny desk chair, slowly turning around to you with your file in hand.

Steve looked up at you, smiling warmly, "You must be the newbie here, right? I am Steve Raglan." Steve stood up from his chair, extending his hand for a handshake.

'He's a giant!' You thought and gently shook his hand, he then sat back down on his chair, your file laying infront of him on the desk, he leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk,

"So, what can I do for you?" He asked with a warm tone,

"I am looking for a job. Nothing too big, just a simple little job can be enough." You answered, feeling a little nervous on what your options may be.

Steve grabbed your file, opening it and looking inside it briefly before looking back at you, "You had some trouble finding your first job here, right? Because of 'personal' related issues?" he tilted his head a little to the side, waiting for your response.

"Yes, Mr. Raglan." You nodded, "If...if I might ask you if you have something for me with, uhm, not so many people in it? I prefer to work all by myself...if that is even possible." You stuttered a little bit, afraid if he will say there is nothing for you, giving him a nervous look.

William grinned internally, knowing he's found his next victim.

"Oh yes. Actually, there is something exactly for you in store. A security gig." Steve smiled at you, "But don't worry, you are all by yourself, nobody else." he added and leaned back into his chair.

"Really? That's good!" You smiled back happily.

'If only you knew...' William thought to himself.

Steve then grinned a bit, "But it's at night. And it's an old Pizzaria."

Your face dropped for a second,

'A job as a night guard at an old Pizzaria?' You thought.

"Oh, that's okay. At this point I'll take anything." You let out a nervous chuckle, making Steve grin.

"Perfect. Don't worry, you only have to do one thing. Keeping people out. Well- and- and keeping the place tidy." Steve explained,

'That's two things' you thought

"Yeah, I can do that." You nodded, "Great! Oh, want some coffee? Just finished before you came in." Steve offered and stood up again, walking past you and to his coffee machine. Steve grinned wolfishly while pouring coffee into the two mugs, before returning to you and handing you the coffee.

"You know, to be brutally honest with you, I am glad you're different." Steve said as he sat back down across from you

"Different? What do you mean?" You asked him wondering what he meant by that,

"Well, most of my clients are sort of 'trouble makers', fired from their past jobs then showing up here and begging me to find them a job, some of them even returning to me saying they got fired again." Steve chuckled.

You chuckled too "Well, from what I have seen I can only agree."

Steve laughed, "Welcome to the job. Now, let me explain everything to you."

'You're in for a fun ride, bunny...'

Steve then explained everything you needed to know in full detail, he gave you the location and the exact route from your house. Your shift would start tomorrow, from 12AM to 6AM at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza.

[naturepointstheway]

Some Little Moments from Zurich Misto's Big Number

Early in his number, in his exuberance, he gets a little too close for comfort for one of the older cats (I think they look like one of the older cats anyway).

More under the "Keep Reading" thing because there's a lot of gifs here.

Yes, ya gotta gif the classic Misto and Tugger dance duet, because it's so fun! Though, is it just me or does Tugger look like he's leaning down to look at...something? The first few times I watched this, I thought he was checking out Misto's butt, though it is just as possible he's looking at Victoria, who is right there and goes up to him.

Wriggly pew pew fingers! I can imagine him doing this with a cheeky grin (think like some of the expressions Jacob Brent's Misto gets in the '98 stage film.) I *think* it might be Alonzo there? (Feel free to correct me on the cats by the way, because it's hard to tell in this 3-pixel bootleg!)

Immediately before he turns to pose to the audience, Misto first points at Tugger to acknowledge his part in this, and I think it's such a cute and sweet little moment.

Spinnies with the cloth! I LOVE this, but also check how quickly he stops doing it and snaps out of it, quickly looking around as if to check anyone saw. Misto you're fine, you're allowed to spin with capes. If you have a cape or a swirling blanket, you must do spinnies.

Plato(?) making that HUGE LEAP off the set gets me every time, lol--his flailing arms, the way he jumps so high and then makes a loud THUD on the ground when he lands.

His little stim with the blanket after revealing Old Deut is also a little moment I love as well--it's like he's still a little unsure/anxious (this is during Tugger's slow, gentle part of "Oh well I never..."

Near the very end, when everyone else is welcoming Old D back, Misto runs back to where Tugger is to do some more dancing and spinnies. But watch Tugger: his little head tilt he does at Misto like "you got this! Go for it!"

[urlocallesbiabs-nsfw-sideblog]

keep fantasizing about a scenario where i get to gently forcefem a cute femboy...

what if there's a sweet cis boy who likes to lean into his natural femininity and not conform to gender expectations, who has soft hair he doesn't cut often and big, brown, doe eyes, who's a bit chubby and a bit curvy as a result, who likes to wear spinny sun-skirts and frilly shirts, cat ears and thigh-high stockings, real lavenderboy darling. and he's into me, he thinks i'm cute and fun and hot, he'd love to get it on; but i turn him down gently — i'm a lesbian. his body is pretty, but i'm not into boys in my bed: i want a partner whom i can call my princess, my baby, my kitten. he's dejected — not pushy, just really pathetic — and i take pity on him. i tell him we can try, but only if i get to treat him like a girl the whole time, and if he promises to be nice and submissive. i can tell the idea is doing something for him, the way his pretty eyes light up when he says yes. they say yes, my pretty girlthing for the night.

i take them home, push them onto the bed, hitch their short skirt up — they're particularly shameless today, little slut in their tiny little skirt, out on display for everyone, but for use only by me — and i find cute panties under it. then i strip off their crop top, and find a bralette gently hugging their flat, tender chest. i tease them about being feminine down to their bones, to their lingerie — were they hoping a cute girl would notice and compliment them on it? it does look nice on them, by the way. they blush at my words, and then blush even harder when i undress myself and they see me wearing plain boxer shorts and no bra, my tits hanging freely. i ask them, isn't it cute how they're even more feminine than me? aren't they my sweet little femme pet? they nod enthusiastically, wordless and aroused and eager to submit. then i take off their stockings, because i want all of them naked and open to me, and i see that their legs are shaven smooth. they already look like a girl, i coo, they're adorable, they're so hot. they get me all riled up with their shy expressions and sharp sighs, with how they hide their face and shiver, i can't keep myself from having them, from devouring them.

i free them from their lingerie and touch them. i kiss them and make them moan, make them take my fingers in their mouth and suck on that, call them a good girl, watch them squirm, watch them get hard and wet. i won't touch them there though, not yet, i like to play with my food. i flick at their nipples, i pinch, make them whine; i tell them how sensitive their chest is — are they on estrogen, maybe? they shake their head no. do they want to be? they just shut their eyes closed and whine harder. it's alright, they're already such a pretty kitten for me, so soft, so responsive. they don't have to think about what they do or do not want — they can let all thoughts go, i'll take care of them, i'll make them feel good. i kiss their neck, leave hickeys there to mark them mine, to hear their sweet, pathetic sounds. i kiss their mouth, push my tongue down their throat until they choke, then praise them for doing so good. i touch their nipples and make them suck on mine, call them my babygirl, so eager to help me, to please me. by the time i get to rubbing between their legs, they're dripping wet and twitching, desperate to unravel for me. i tell them how beautiful their girlcock is, how slick they are, how cutely they buck their hips and blush for me and moan for me; i mount them, and guide them inside me. they cry out, twitch harder, get all adorable and helpless under me. i try to ride them, but they keep jerking their hips, they can't lie still, their breath is all broken and their expression is almost pained from all the stimulation, i can see they're dying for release. i tell them they can do it, they've been such a good girl for me, they're allowed, they're so obedient and deserve a reward, they can cum inside me — and they do, and they moan so loudly, they cry and tremble as i help them ride it out until they're limp and empty.

then i cuddle them, pet their hair, kiss their forehead, tell them they were great and adorable and i loved all of it. i ask them if they liked it, and they say yes, slow and fucked out, a little sleepy. i ask again if it was nice to finally have lesbian sex with another girl, and she says yes louder, hugs me tighter, buries her face. i ask her if she liked being a girl, my girl, and she cries, and i let her find comfort between my tits as i stroke her back.

next week, she wants to do it again, and of course i let her — but on one new condition: she needs to let me do her first estradiol shot. if we keep this up, the rules have to change, okay? she agrees so easily, almost like this is what she wanted all along. we do it again, and again, and again, like she's addicted to whatever i do to her; gradually, her skin gets softer and her breasts fuller, her nipples even more sensitive, and every time she cums her sperm is more and more watery, but her orgasms are more and more intense. she stops cutting her hair at all, starts going by a new name, starts calling herself my girlfriend. nearly every time we have sex, she kisses me and thanks me for fixing her, for shaping her to my needs. i say i'll do anything for my good girl, and fuck her until she forgets who she was before she turned into my sweet femme fucktoy, my beautiful girl.

[sarcastic-positivity]

     It was the middle of July and despite Tim’s aspirations as a kid, he did not, in fact, have a job that gave him summers off. As such, it was a miserable affair, getting to and from work. Usually Tim would be in an airy t-shirt and shorts but Jon had caught sight of his Hawaiian themed top last week and it had been a close thing to avoid being forced to go home and change. It would be a few weeks before he could get away with such a ‘blatant display of disrespect for work procedures’, as Jon put it, so here he was: sweating his ass off on the tube and praying to whatever god would listen that they’d fixed the AC at the Institute.

     God never did like Tim.

     “Christ above, does Elias want us dead or something?” Tim cried to the room at large as he dropped heavily onto his spinny chair. It was stifling. “What did we ever do to him, huh?? Did someone submit a statement about Bigfoot again?” He immediately started popping buttons on his ‘work appropriate’ shirt.

     Sasha popped her head up from her cubicle and grinned at him. Her waist-length braids had been piled sloppily on top of her head and she looked about ready to topple over from the imbalance. She’d already shed her top layer down to a simple purple tank top but she still had a sheen of sweat on her brow that had her large round glasses slipping down her nose.

     “Pretty sure it’s cause Gerry called him an old codger and compared him to the statement giver from the McGregor case last week. He’s out for revenge now.”

     Tim wrinkled his nose. “What, the stuffy one with the cane who wouldn’t shut up about how the Tories are implementing a surveillance state?”

     “The very same,” Sash confirmed, pushing her glasses back up with a hand. “Though I personally think Elias would be very pro Big Brother. Did I tell you he asked after my aunt the other week?”

     “You told Elias about Matilda’s lung cancer?”

     “That’s just it! The only person I told about that was you, and I’m pretty sure you didn’t run off to tattle to Elias.” She leaned forward in her chair conspiratorial and Tim couldn’t help but do the same. Sash was magnetic when she was like this. It had led to more than one rendezvous in their first year at the Institute. “I think he has cameras down here.”

     It wasn’t the most insane theory she’d come up with, somehow. Just two months ago she’d followed Jon home because she didn’t believe he actually had a home; she’d thought he’d been sleeping in the Institute of all places. Besides, there was that feeling of being watched that pervaded this place. Still, Tim couldn’t help but laugh.

     “I think we’d know if he had cameras, Sash. Did I tell you what he-”

     “What fresh hell is this?” The voice from the doorway was flat and scathing and Tim immediately spun in his chair to grin at the intruder.

     “Gerry!” He called happily. “I didn’t know you were coming in today!” He was wearing his signature black trenchcoat and a scowl that did things to Tim. Luckily for both of them, Tim was well guarded against Gerry’s scary-sexy goth vibe by virtue of sharing a flat with him. There were only so many times you could get a chub from simply looking at your roommate before your prick just gave up on the enterprise entirely.

     “There’s a statement I need but this is fucking ridiculous.” His voice was as deep and rough as it always was but the angry edge to it managed to send a little zing down Tim’s spine. The days that Gerry showed up at work are always so interesting. “It’s at least 10 degrees hotter in here than it is outside. The fuck is Elias thinking?”

     “Gonna rough him up for us, Ger?” Tim asked with a grin and Sasha laughed. “Stomp on him a little with those boots of yours? 10 quid says he’s into it.” Gerard shot him a look but there was a smile playing around his lips, pulling slightly at the snakebite piercings there. His makeup that day was the same as it usually was, eyeliner and three exaggerated lower lashes that made his gaze all the more intense. Thank god for the aforementioned Roommate Protection. Especially when Gerry’s eyes swept over Tim before meeting his eyes again and giving a mocking little smile. His eyes were slate grey and impossible to look away from.

     “Projecting much, Stoker?” He asked in a low tone. It was teasing and Sasha cackled but Tim’s brain stuttered and properly died. What did one say when a hot goth implied that you maybe wanted him to stomp on you with his giant sexy boots? Especially when it was true.

     “What, you wanna find out, Keay?” Tim shot back. That was good. Keep it light, let it plausibly pass for playful workplace banter – a little bit of light flirting to keep thoughts of the heat at bay. Gerry arched a brow at him, face betraying nothing but that same cool amusement. Sasha snorted and shook her head, turning back to her computer.

     “You two are ridiculous,” she told them. Tim shrugged, eyes still on Gerry, and then Jon’s office door creaked open.

     “Oh good, you’re here, Gerard.” Gerry’s eyes flicked away. “You said you needed the Anderson file?” 

     “Yeah, that’s the one,” Gerry said. He passed by Tim’s desk to take the file from Jon. Tim turned back to his desk. “By the way, your workplace is a HSE violation waiting to happen.”

     “Yes, I am quite aware,” Jon said drily. “Make sure to get that one back to me by the end of the day. And not stinking of smoke this time, Gerard. I have more notes I plan to add to it.”

     “No promises.”

・・・

     Inevitably, it was Tim who had to go hunt Gerry down at a quarter to five to get the file back. Luckily the fire exit to the left of the stairs to the archives was conspicuously propped open by an unopened carton of cigarettes and Tim pushed outside into the slightly cooler summer air.

     Gerard was lounged on the steps leading to the back alley, facing away from the door with the file open at his feet and a lit cigarette in hand. He’d tied his hair up sloppily, much like Sasha had hers, but it was so long that black sheets of it still cascaded down his bare shoulders. His trenchcoat had been completely abandoned, laid out on the step beside him, and he was left only in a crop top Tim had never seen before. It was made of a sheer grey material that matched his eyes and had no sleeves to speak of. Even worse, Gerry had a hand tucked under his shirt, shucking the top halfway up his chest. His alabaster skin shone in the dim light of the setting sun and Tim nearly took a tumble down the steps when Gerry tilted his head back to look back at him. 

     “What?” Gerry asked in a gravelly voice when he caught Tim staring. Tim opened his mouth to respond but he suddenly found himself incapable of speech. Gerry rolled his eyes and turned his head languidly back forward, lifting his cigarette to his lips. “AC’s broken inside but it’s barely any cooler out here. Don’t be a prude.”

     That surprised a laugh out of Tim. “A- A prude?!” He choked out. Never in his life had he been accused of such a thing. And this, this was so far on the opposite side of the scale he wanted to laugh. Or cry. Gerry just blew a smoke ring.

     “If you’re here for the file, it’s there.” He kicked at the manila folder at his feet and Tim could hear the wounded noise Jon would make if he were there. Right, Tim had actually come for a reason that wasn’t to ogle Gerry. Supposedly.

     “Right.” Tim cleared his throat and picked his way down the steps so as to not step on Gerry. God, did his legs have to be so long? “This thing has gotta reek by now,” he said as he bent down for the file. “Pretty sure the boss man won’t be too happy with you about that one.” He turned back and around and Gerry quickly lifted his eyes. His eyes were a warm hazy grey, much like the smoke drifting around his head.

     “Afraid of Sims then, are you?” He drawled. His piercings glinted as he grinned at Tim.

     Tim rolled his eyes and made his way back up the steps. He very pointedly kept his gaze on the ground as he did so, enticingly bare torso be damned. “Everything’s a question with you,” he said. “‘Projecting much? Afraid of Sims?’ Just call me a bottom and get on with it.”

     Gerry rasped out a chuckle right as Tim reached the top step. Tim hesitated but couldn’t help but glance back down behind him. Gerry’s head was tilted back, hair messy and top askew, and his eyes half lidded against the dying light behind Tim’s head.

     “Now where’s the fun in that?”

     He was sight to see, all stretched out and half clothed on the steps to the alley. Tim shook his head and turned back inside without another word. Gerry’s rapsing laugh followed him all the way into the archives.

     Damn tease.

SPEECHLESS. SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP. THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT I NEEDED AND MORE THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE HOLY SHIT IM LOSING MY MIND

[chartreuxhue]

"Summer Air"

Hello, I wrote this a long time ago! It's not proofread, and I refuse to do that!

Pairing: Sova x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sometimes the summer air brings out the inner child...

A late night, a night where you, Jett and Phoenix just so happened to steal the spinny office chair out of Brims office and took to the halls with them. 

“(Y/N), you first!” Jett said,

 Pushing you into the chair and spinning it around. Her hands grabbing a hold of one side while Phoenix had the other. All you saw was the very long corridor in front of you. A big smile on your face as you gripped the arms of the chair and sat criss-cross.

“On one, Jett!” 

Your grip tightened.  

“Three!”

“Two!”

There was a long pause and your grip loosened for a moment.

“One!” 

The two duelists push the chair with all their might, sending you twirling and speeding down the halls of the protocol base, loud giggles and laughs could be heard from down the hall. Catching the attention of both KillJoy and Raze. 

“What are you guys doing?” Killjoy asked, a curious eyebrow raised. 

“Having fun, what's it look like!”

You get out of the chair and grab her by the hand, you sit her in the chair. Raze leans against the door wall. 

“Maybe we can hook up some gadgets?” 

She asked, you smiled.

“Then we can race!” 

Dangerous activities, in the base hallways. Sounds like fun.  

You grab a hold of one side of the chair while Jett has the other, and you both push KJ down the hall. She laughs and cheers abruptly from her sitting form on the chair. You turn around and look at some of the other agents who seem to wanna join in on the fun. 

“Imma go get one more chair!” you said and made your way towards the offices. You came to a stop at Vipers office. She won't mind right? You opened the office door and quickly rolled the chair out into the hall. Her office door shut behind you and you started towards the rest of the agent switching the chair. 

After some time the hallway had turned into a raceway, KJ and raze had modified the chairs to actually get some speed after being pushed. And most of the agents that did not take things seriously were there. Phoenix had some music playing and Yoru was betting on who would win with Jett. You on the other hand were in charge of timing and pushing the chairs. You stood in the middle of an intersection, you declared it the starting point to the races. 

Laughter was all you heard in your ears, and the pumping of your heart. A huge smile on your face, as you had just sent off the next racers. You stepped back, you back meeting someone's chest. You froze, who was it? It was too big, was it Brim? Breach? You racked your brain trying to see who wasn’t here. Before you feel their hands press firmly on your upper arms. 

“So you’re the one behind all this.” A thick Russian accent said. 

His hands squeezed your arms lightly, causing you to relax into his touch. “I was starting to wonder where you went too.” 

“Jett stole Brims office chair, and then we got side tracked.” 

You said looking up at him, he had a simple smile on his face. And his cape thingy was gone, along with some of the heavier gear he wore as well. 

“Hey, you wanna try it?” 

You asked, his eyes drifted down to meet yours. 

“Oh no no, I'm far too old for child games.” he says, shaking his head and letting go of your arms. 

“What! says who? No one! I’ll race you.” You say, trying to make it sound fun. If he says no you'd have to resort to puppy eyes. 

“It’ll be fun! I swear.” you say, with a smile, and he cracks. 

“Okay!” he says.

The chairs come back to where you two were standing. 

“Ohhh, Sova’s racing now?? I didn’t know you had fun outside of hunting sova.” phoenix says. 

Sova got in position in his chair, and so did you. You looked over at him and smiled. 

“See ya, after I win Pretty boy!” you say to him and tighten your grip on the arm rest of the chair. 

“Oh, it's on, моя снежная сова!” he says,

Jett grabs a hold of your chair. 

“You got this (Y/N)!” she says. 

“On one.” Phoenix says.

“Three” 

“Two”

“One!” 

The chairs went flying down the hallways, you closed your eyes and felt the wind flying past. Your chair came to a slow stop all the way at the end of the hallway.  You open your eyes and look around; your chair was farther than Sova's. You stood up and ran over to him.

“Ha, See that, Sasha. I can beat you at something.” You say, your own excitement is too loud for you to finally realize he's laughing, not chuckling, not only smiling. Laughing. 

“I see you can beat me at some things, моя маленькая сова!”

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into one of his infamous hugs. You're shocked, but your shock quickly fades into more happiness.

“I told you it'd be fun.” you said, wrapping your arm around his neck. 

You get ready to say something else before you hear Brimstone clear his throat. 

“Alright, who stole my office chair?” 

[ettawritesnstudies]

Happy storyteller Saturday (glad we’re bringing this back)! Your characters go to the county fair! What do they eat? What rides do they go on? Who gets so into petting goats they forget to even look at rides? Who wins a questionable number of clearly rigged games? Who gets their face painted? Who overhauls their entire aesthetic based on booths of scarves and accessories? Who finds something hyperspecific to learn about while the others tap their feet impatiently? Etc.

(that last one is based on me going to the county fair and becoming so engrossed in a local history lecture at the museum exhibit I did not even go check out the rides)

Happy STS Moshke! What a fun question!

I feel like the Twins are big fans of the rides and food trucks, they take turns waiting in the lines and babysitting their other siblings, switching whenever they're bored of one task and feel like tagging in for the other. Like Marco loves spinny rides but hates waiting in line for them, Matteo isn't a fan of the spinning but doesn't mind the wait, so they switch when he gets to the front of the line. Meanwhile, Marco gets funnel cake as a favor so when Matteo switches out, Marco can go in his ride, and Matteo can have a treat! They've really hacked the system.

Tess is Extremely Intimidated by all the hubbub and Hannah hates crowds with a visceral passion, so the two of them gladly hang out at the petting zoo.

Quercu would win all the rigged carnival games. She's been sneaking into human fairs for 200 years and she knows all the tricks. She won't keep the prizes though and passes them off to the kids in line who don't have her kind of faerie luck.

Cecelia gets her face painted so that nobody questions when she uses her glamours, just a tiny bit. It looks a little too hyperrealistic, but no adults are looking that closely.

Lady Brigid would enjoy seeing the crafters, though I don't know if she'd completely overhaul her aesthetic (she is supposed to be based on a nun) but she would like to support the arts, so she'd buy a few pieces as gifts for the girls! I also imagine Mrs. Tegan might run a stand like this. In my imagination, she has a large craft room and runs a fairly successful small business out of her home. Cecelia might help her stock inventory and run the table.

If Hannah ever left the petting zoo, she'd get lost at the farm show exhibit with all the heirloom varieties of vegetables and apples, and the panels on local agriculture. She's a huge plant nerd and learning how to yield a successful harvest would interest her. Her dad would find her talking the ear off a gaggle of old-timers and she'd leave with an internship or something sldjsflkjds.

Thanks for the ask!