#my beloved filing cabinet

[s0ckh3adstudios]

ok but Kingleader as a ship is so funny to me for so many reasons because Kinger HAD a wife and then she got abstracted and he was probably like very upset but Caine was sad for like 10 minutes until he realized Oh Shit Kinger's Available and he has an Opening. as my friend put it

while Kinger is oblivious for a good amount of time

and everything we talked about was just hysterical like how do you expect them to kiss. one doesn't have a mouth and the other is a mouth. they resort to hand holding. Caine seeing a royal piece of wood and doing that cartoony 'awooga' reaction and Kinger is just standing there with his eye twitching. if Kinger showed up wearing a bowtie Caine would FAINT. Bubble isn't a fan of them and it wants its seat at that little diner back but KINGER HAS TAKEN IT.

Caine decides to marry the guy and EVERYONE IN THE CIRCUS HAS TO COME. but in order to get there it can't NOT be an adventure, they have to get through a dangerous obstacle course just to reach the wedding. nobody really wants to go except for maybe Ragatha who thinks it's sweet. Jax does NOT want to be here. he's not a romance fan (aroace swagger most definitely) and the wedding consists of mostly Caine's extremely long wedding speech which is actually just an elaborate slideshow featuring a Kinger fancam and many supposedly "attractive" pictures which are blurry and covered in heart and star emojis. and to each one Kinger is just "awww stop it"

Kinger also had a speech but it took him half an hour to realize he forgot it and kept everyone waiting

[bandtrees]

Yeah, I've got a growing, got a growing list And the skin therein is infinite And if you've got flesh to spare, you're in - Infinite skin!

[cringe-interests]

@wearewatcher Steven I love you and I really hope you’re taking care of yourself as well as you care for the Watcher employees. Watching Making Watcher is making my heart swell. Your thoughtfulness and intention to making watcher an actually decent working environment and not wanting to fall victim to dynamics like any other corporation..when I get a serious job I really hope to get someone like you as upper management. In a world full of heartless and soulless corporations it really means something to see a company deviate from that model. You truly have done something wonderful with Watcher. I appreciate your dedication and nonstop work to keep the company running. You are a wonderful CEO

[daggerbisexual]

Listen. this show? is so funny. “it’s time to face the music, even if it is the hydra theme song” “‘Phil, this is me being honest’ ‘No, John, this is you being a psychopath’” ??? Coulson standing in a dark corner for who knows how long so he could have a dramatic reveal in the pilot???? throwing a file cabinet out a window after saying get ready for a large file transfer???????? anyway phil coulson my beloved u are so funny and i’m sorry no one laughs at ur jokes

[gh0stsp1d3r]

ℱ𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈

(Pjo!au)

Warnings-Making out :3 readers a daughter of Apollo, Rafe’s a child of ares

Masterlist

The sunshine daughter of Apollo, the head counselor of the cabin and a beloved person of the camp.

And then there’s him. Rafe Cameron. An Ares counselor who wants nothing to do with anyone, he’s so full of rage sometimes you think that he’s Ares himself. Most of the camp didn’t like him.

And if there was one person who had been in the most fights and always ended up having to be treated by you, it was him.

It wasn’t any better than you both had an on and off thing, a few kisses turning into more every once in a while.

As the head apollo healer, you had a duty you had to fullfill. You cared for everyone that walked in and out of the healer cabins, even after it got busy.

Today had been a slow day, all the other healers were sleeping and just as you had began to close up, there was a knock at the cabin door.

You sighed, throwing the rag you had in your hands down into the sink and opening the door.

“Sorry to pop in so late. But… these two idiots… Got into a fight. Just… work your magic.” Dionysus started, you could tell he was pissed by the way he shoved them both into the cabin, waving a hand.

“Oh! Uh.. I was just about to close up, but…” when you began to talk, he was already walking away, calling back a thanks. You were mad, but just shoved it down.

You looked at the two boys in front of you, one of them being a younger hades boy and the other being none other than Rafe.

“Alright, which one of you started it?”

“He did!” The scrawny hades boy argued, Rafe furrowing an eyebrow, turning to him.

“No I fuckin’ didn’t, you little-“ he was going to attack him before you just put a hand on his chest.

“Jesus, with all these fights Cameron I’m shocked you’re still counselor of that cabin.”

“Whatever. I’m here to be healed, not fuckin’ argue. So… do your job or whatever.” He waved his hand, sitting on a chair.

The scrawny boy sat on the opposite side of the room and they just glared at each other.

“What’s your name?” You asked the boy, he quietly muttered his name and you went over to the filing cabinet. “And… what hurts?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me right now. I’m here to treat you, and I’m just as tired as you are right now. I would like to go home, so please, what hurts?”

You attended to the Hades boy first, his wounds were worse than Rafe’s. He seemed quiet the whole time, not saying a word to you.

After his wounds had been tended to, he grumbled out a thanks and stormed outside, going to his cabin.

You sighed and turned to Rafe, walking over to him. The room was full of tension, both of you felt it but you tried to ignore it.

“Lift up your shirt.” You told him, he did so, a smile on his face as he watched you clean his chest.

“You got him good, I’ll tell you that much.” You murmured to him while you bandaged up his knuckles.

“I know.” He snickered.

“Why do you always do this?” You sighed again, looking up at the boy, stopping your movements.

“That little skinny bastard deserved it.”

“Why?”

“He was talking shit.”

“About you?”

“About you.” He mumbled, you furrowed an eyebrow. “Yeah, he- he called you a bitch to his little friends, cause you accidentally ran into him-or beat him in a sword fight, or something. Got all defensive when I heard him.”

“Wait, you fought him because of me?” You pointed to yourself.

“Yeah. I mean,” he leaned back in his chair. “Can’t have anyone talkin’ bout my favorite healer like that.” He shrugged, a small smile playing on his face.

You were silent before you spoke. “Rafe…”

“Hmm?”

“I- I don’t- ever since that kiss-“ you rambled, pausing your movements, looking at the ground.

“Shh.” He mumbled, cutting you off and leaning down, gently gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him. “Please let me have this.” He asked as he leaned closer, your heart picking up as his lips ghosted yours.

You nodded feverishly, and that was all he needed to crash his lips into yours. You let out a low moan, his grip on your jaw turned harsher, and he grabbed your face when he slid his tongue in your mouth.

Your lips left his for a moment when you got up to straddle him. He smiled, before the both of you got back to making out on the chair.

[wannaeatramyeon]

Jake Kim x Reader: Open Door Policy

G/N.

Jake's office-

Well. 'Office' sounds much better than it looks. A cleared backroom in a leaky warehouse off the main Big Deal street, surrounded by boxes and metal racks and filing cabinets. In the centre sits a surprisingly nice desk and chair that Brad and Lineman showed up with one day and no questions were asked.

Meetings and meals are shared in this overcrowded space. That somehow fits Jake Kim and his loyal followers and all of their headaches.

Anyway, Jake's office has an open door policy.

As befitting, really, of the beloved leader of Big Deal. Where members can bring their problems no matter how small or insignificant. Ranging from potentially not hitting the amount of money needed for Gun and Goo to-

"Boss, someone ran over my bike." Jerry holds up his undersized misshapen bike in one hand, a contrite casual Sinu trailing behind.

His favourite interruptions though, usually bring him a different sort of headache. The kind where he knows he has a deadline to hit, numbers and problems to crunch through, but the temptation of procrastination is too much.

He recognises your knocks. The rapping of the knuckles that somehow betrays your excitement at seeing him.

Jake's "Come in" returns the joy in equal measure. The way your eyes meet and light up when he asks "How can I help?" with his trademark grin.

You hold yourself back, as you often do.

("I don't want the crew to feel awkward," he tells you one time, many times. Actions not matching his words when he presses heated kisses against your neck and pulls you into his lap, "Open door policy, can't have them seeing anything that makes them uncomfortable.")

"Just wanted to say hi, Boss." You tell him, noting the way his breath catches at your 'Boss'. "See you at home," and you turn around to leave.

"Wait!" Jake leaps up from his chair, reaches you in one and a half strides and wraps his arm around your waist. "You're not even going to give me a kiss?"

His pout is met with your roll of eyes, "What happened to making the guys feel awkward-"

Jake leans in, breathes "Just this once."

It's a lie, it's always a lie. You can never bring yourself to mind though, when you feel his smile against your lips and his fingers brand themselves into your skin.

[poisonappleprintshop]

A glimpse of the studio featuring my beloved antique flat file cabinet. 🔮 Poison Apple Printshop

[portal-geist]

...Oh, Hello! Oh, excuse me..

Ahem, hello, hello~? Ah, there we are. It'll be a disaster if my prized mic lost it's saturation... Let's get to our beloved protagonists day now shall we? This is...

𝒩𝒶𝓇𝓇𝒶𝓉𝑜𝓇 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇 𝓍 𝒲𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝒟𝒶𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑔

Ah, such very nice wheather, isn't it? The warm morning sunshine, the silky wind caressing the fresh grass... Such a wonderful day for such a wonderful Neighborhood.

Oh! It seems your friend has been waiting for you!

"Welcome home, neighbor!~"

Wally Darling waved, excited to see you again.

"So friend, I've been having some thoughts lately, and I need your help! Sally and I have been wanting to make a play that is completely original! But we are stuck on ideas..."

Oh, no!

"Oh! How about we go around the Neighborhood, to find some ~inspiration~!"

As Wally's hands sparkle, We followed our little friend to look around the neighborhood.

First was Juilie Joyful's lushous garden!

Hm?

It seems that Wally has found something! It was a little snail in a buckett, with a top hat that looked out curiously.

Wally eyed the snail and waved his hand.

"Hello, small neighbor! Do you have any ideas on our play?"

Wally asked the little snail, though there was no answer. The little gentlemen continued to spin in the buckett slowly. Wally shook his head.

"Hm, cricles are nice but I don't think it'll be fit or our play... Let's look somewhere else!"

Leaving the small and slow neighbor behind, we travelled over to Poppy's Barn.

"Found anything Neighbor? Oh!-"

Wally looked up to see a bird has stopped on his blue hair.

The little bird looked around cluelessly as to where they had stood.

"Hello new Neighbor! Do you have any ideas for our play?"

Wally gazed upon the feathery friend. They chirped a few tunes before fluttering into the sky, Wally taken aback from it's sudden moves.

"Ah, of course! Singing! Oh wait... what kind of song?"

Moving along the groove and Walking along the sidewalk, Wally put a hand on his chin in a inquiring manner. He gazed upon a mailbox, then a colourful poster, to then snap his fingers as a ding-dong of an idea popped up.

It seems that our friendly friend has an idea.

"I know someone who can help us!"

Oh? Well you better catch up neighbor, hohoh!

.......

...

...Wait a small moment, is this not-

DING-DONG

Such timing as always... It seems that I have a guest today hm? Or shall I say... I'm the guest.

"I shall be there in a moment neighbor."

As expected, it was our friend Wally who was at the door. It has been a while since I've been on stage so please do forgive my appearance... Oh who am I saying, I look outstanding 24/7!

"Why hello and hello there Wally Darling."

"Why hello and hello there, Narrator."

Wally gave a soft smile glee to see me. I smiled back down at the little neighbor, tilting a nonexistent hat in a polite manner.

"I figure you are in need of something. Let us go inside shall we? I hope you are up for some tea."

I welcomed my neighbor, quietly closing the door as they walked in my residence. The smell of freshly toasted waffles was flooding my house, it was a kind, pleasing smell.

Eating on the job? Oh, please... I'm the narrator! You haven't heard me chew have you? That'll be ridiculous.

I moved away some scripts that was on the table.

"I hope you are comfy. Go on while I go fetch the toast's."

I said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"An original idea for a play I see?"

I asked Wally as I set down his plate.

"Mhm. Me and Sally want to put on something new, we don't want to follow Jullie's picture books again..."

Wally looked at his food for a moment, eyeing me while doing so to which I returned an understanding smile and began to think while closing my eyes.

"Hmm... well, all of the plays you both put on are amazing! I can't possibly think of something that can top that."

I said opening one eye to check my friend. He was looking around the living room.

There were many filed with papers and different kinds of litereture inside walls of cabinets. He read a few the were next to him.

My scripts are a little bit silly, or that's at least what I've heard from the people around me. I constantly repeat words and phrases when explaining little actions between the neighborhood, it just adds to their charm I think.

I thought of a charming thought for the charming Wally and his play.

"...How about a love story?"

I suggested.

"A love story?"

"A love story."

I put a finger up in a sly manner. Wally titled his head, eyeing me puzzled.

"Love? Is it when a princess gets saved by a prince from a monster?"

Wally was thinking back on one of his older plays.

I looked at our friend while thinking of something to say.

"Hmm... Well love isn't only that, Wally. In fact, love can be anything and everywhere! All you have to do is hear, touch, and feel it."

Wally perked up with curiousity.

"How do I see it?"

The room felt eery.

I giggled as I stretched my arm to the closet in the back. When opened,it was completely black as if there was nothing. However, when I reached in, a small ukulele came out in my hand as I sat it on my lap.

"Let me show you one love I had."

I smiled as I began to play.

~,~, ~,~, ~~~...

~,~, ~,~, ~~~...

"We were playing in the sand~"

~,~, ~,~, ~~~...

"And you found a little band~"

~,~, ~,~, ~~~...

"You, told me you, fell in love with it, hadn't gone as I planned~..."

I made a small pouting face, as if I was bummed in the moment.

"When you had a bid adeu-"

"Oooooh-, ooooh, oooooooh~"

Wally joined in, singing afterwards. I was surprised, though smiled loveingly as I continued.

"Said you'd never love anew~"

"Oooooh-, ooooh, oooooooh~"

"I~ wondered if, I~ could hold it and-"

"-fall in love with it too~"

I looked out of the window. Jullie was skipping along the flowers, Barnaby was trying to cheer Eddie up and help him pick up the papers he dropped, Frank was sneeking behind Howdy who was carrying a box of baked goods.

The warm smell of the sun and the cheerful voices, combined with a bitter yet sweet melody.

I breathed in.

"You told me to- buy a pony, but~ all I wanted was-"

I booped where I'd assume Wally's nose was playfully yet loveingly.

"You~"

~,~,~,~,~~~~~~~

"....Hmmm-mmm-mm, mm, hmmm-"

"Ooooooh-"

Suddenly, colours of the outside started to fade.

"-ooooooh, oooooh~"

"....Hmmm-mmm-mm, mm, hmmm-"

Flowers wiltering.

"Oooooh-, oooooooh, ooooooh~"

The fields becoming empty and hollow.

Black and white.

"Hmmm-, mm-mm-mm, mm-mm-mm~"

"Ooooh, ooooh, ooooh~"

Yet here was something left.

One singular colour, an arouma was standing near the empty, creaking, swingset.

"Hmmm-, mm-mm-mm, mm-mm-mm~"

"Ooooh, ooooh, ooooh~"

It was...

"Ooooooh, oooooh, ooooooooooohhhh~"

The last few plucks on the string as I smiled contently.

I opened my eyes to see Wally watching with full interest.

His black, colour absorbing eyes was watching every move, sound, and expression I made.

It was nice. Instead of me watching over others, it was someone else watching me.

I settled down my Uke, to which Wally noticed and clapped.

"You have a wonderful voice Narrator."

"Thank you Wally, I loved your support."

I winked at Wally, which he returned.

It was a silly little gag I'd do to show my grattitude.

"This song is something speacial to me, a speacial someone."

"So, does that give any ideas, friend?"

I asked the creative neighbor.

His thoughts wandered back to the snail, bird, and song. He kept on thinking until a DING-DONG of an idea popped up.

It seems that our friendly friend has an idea.

"I know! A bird and snail meeting on a rainyday, under an apple tree. What a good idea!"

Wally snapped his fingers proudly, as if a lightbulb popped up, or it may just be me being blind in my own way.

A rush of relief fell upon me, happy that I was able to help. I began placing the empty plates of waffles and cups of teas like a tower.

"I understand now, Narrator. Love isn't only one giant explosion of events, but can also be small aspects of our days!"

If that is your conclusion, than I shall not interfear.

"Well you better hurry along then, friend. Sally must be excited to hear it."

Smiling, I motioned to Wally saying that he is welcome to leave when nessicary.

Wally did my wink gag one more time as he thanked me at the door.

"Thank you Narrator for your wisdom and polite voice from the sky. I hope you can join the play's audience not from the sky, but from the seats like everyone else!"

He shook my hand greatfully which I shook back.

"I'll voice what I can do, Wally Darling. Have a wonderous neighborhood!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Thank you neighbor for joining me on our search for ideas! I'll be waiting with home at the neighborhood. See you all~"

...Nom, (Despite cold, these waffles are pretty good, hmmm..) hm, oh, OH- Ahem.

That was a bit embaressing for me, ahah, I am not very used to talking about my own story.

Though, it was a nice little change if I do say so myself.

It has seems that Wally's day has come to an end, and welcoming to the next.

Well then neighbor, we'll be eager to hear from you again, farewell~!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh silly Wally... Do you think you're the only one who sees?

Since when did you have a voice? Little puppet....

(A/N)

Apologies if this was out of character but hope you enjoyed!

I will take requests and asks for this Au if you like.

The reader design is just my interpretation. However, I try not to describe the reader much as possible, so yeah. (Though I do think they are more of a puppet than human.)

I am planning on continuing creating episodes of the Narrator reader depending on how many people would want to see more so please do let me know!

I really love colourful and playful world settings and characters simular to welcome home, therefore I wanted to touch the creaion a bit. Of course as long as I am allowed to, creators have boundaries afterall!

Have a wonderful day, evening, and night, fellow listeners...

[sleepyboywrites]

Playing on my last req with strong reader, what about where reader playfully picks him up from behind? Like when you try to scare someone, but end up giving them a bunch of kisses? 🥰

I'm answering two of your asks with one post. Yes I'm still writing (mostly to ch.ai bots because my depression won and I couldn't bring myself to write anywhere) but, yeah still writing, I'm a writer by heart if you don't hear from me for a hella long time, and I haven't written elsewhere I'm probably just really sad or struggling again. Thank you for asking, low key made my anxiety force me to write again and helped my mental health in a twisted kinda way, and thanks for being patient so ta-da~ sorry if it's bad or on the shorter side I'm rusty cause I haven't written in a while.

Boo! - Masky x Strong Male reader (Part 2-ish)

It's no surprise that as Slender's one-man clean-up crew you have an, interesting, to say the least, skill set. You meet your fair share of literal creeps, and cleaning up their messes means you learned how to dispose of bodies, get human remains out of clothes, floors, and walls. How to navigate weird moving forests, and large bodies of water. You also know everyone's allergies and on occasion have to patch creeps up, so first aid basics as well.

However if you ask your murderer boyfriend, your scariest skill, and one of your favorites, is one you learned from your big, abusive, family. You were incredibly light footed and tended to move so silently you'd 'teleport'. You had, in reality, just walked to the location you were at but it scared the night owl creeps as you grab a midnight snack or glass of water, for yourself or your overworked exhausted boyfriend.

You loved to sneak up on Masky just as much as he did to sneak up on you. You fondly referred to said sneak attacks as love attacks for you had a tendency to smother him with affections post spook and sneak up.

The first time you very narrowly avoided dying at the hands of your beloved, because he's a trained killer and doesn't take kindly to being snuck up on.

You snuck up on him for the first, and almost last, time while he was doing paperwork late at night. He had been overworking himself to the bone, with stacks of paperwork and victims, both his and the others. You thought you'd be nice and bring him some tea, maybe convince him to go to bed, if you'd be so lucky. But as you got to his office seeing him so engrossed in his work you saw an opportunity to sneak up on him for once instead of the reverse and so you did. You set the tea behind you on a filing cabinet and snuck behind his chair pulling it out and spinning him towards your saying "Hey, honey!" And the bullet ricocheted in such a way that if you hadn't ducked, or Masky hadn't pushed your head down rather, it would've hit square between your eyes.

Sometimes it'll still be a close call if he's to wound up from his workload. But the successful ones sure are sweet.

You and Masky had a lazy day planned, where both of you had authorization for a day off and decided to take a walk, have a picnic and swim by one of the lakes in the forest. Masky had been waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs being familiarized with the stairs and your handy little skill you saw an opportunity that you couldn't miss. You crept down the stairs and scooped up your boyfriend, kissing his face, and throwing him over your shoulder as you began to walk out the mansion. Tim laughing and squirming the entire time. His laugh is a warm and enticing sound as he doesn't do so very often and hearing it fills you with an indescribable amount of joy. So much so you wish you could bottle the sound to immortalize its purest form.

When you put him down you kiss him properly this time, deeply and adoringly, "Boo!" You murmured against his lips before running off ahead of him and making him tackle you into the grass with similar treatment.

[tf2-oneshots]

can we get one where medic likes big men and heavy makes his brain short circuit? please?

Big men my beloved

Warnings: none!

Rating: General

It was the first day of work for the newly hired Medic. He straightens his coat, hair fixed into place before he steps through the doors of his new office. He starts by organizing his filing cabinet. While he hasn’t met anyone else on the team, the Administrator gave him brief overviews of everyone.

Each teammate is placed in alphabetical order until Medic reaches Heavy. He pauses to admire the photo of the large man. Despite it only being a headshot, Medic can tell that he’s a burly man. Before he can get ahead of himself, the doors swing open.

“You are Doktor?” Comes a deep voice that shakes Medic to the core. The German turns, and its a sight to behold. Heavy, the man he was just ogling, is in the medical room! Right now! Medic stammers, papers slipping out of his hands and onto the tile floor.

“I-I apologize. Ja, I—I’m Medic.” A nervous laugh as he kneels to pick up Heavy’s paperwork. He tries to ignore the massive man before him, focused on putting the pages in their correct order. God, he’s weak to men like Heavy!

The doctor stands, nervously smiling, but it likely looks deranged. Still, Heavy nods and takes a seat on the operating table. He looks to the German, silent as he gathers his thoughts.

“Many doktors say Heavy is too heavy. These doktors do not practice anymore. Heavy broke them.” Years of his weight being mocked and belittled by so called medical professionals has left the Russian with a bitter attitude towards doctors. Every ailment had the same diagnosis: fat. Heavy’s weight was always the issue.

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that! Men your size are no issue for me! Aheh, I-I mean, I don’t see weight.” No, even that sounds wrong. Medic bites his lip, trying to find the right way of saying that men like Heavy are his favorite.

“Understood. Doktor has nothing to fear.” But he has something to admire. As Heavy turns to leave, Medic watches him walk out. Despite his nerves, he’ll get that Adonis wrapped around his finger.

[sunflowersteves]

Lately, the thought has been spinning in my head that there is a reader who will be much taller than our beloved Miguel ??? damn it, I just imagine the reader towering over Miguel and saying "god, are all the spiders here really that small or is it me Just that big? Hehe" I'm in love with the idea

i cannot relate bc I’m five foot zero inches BUT I hope you enjoy

warnings || none, tall reader, fluff, grumpy miguel, gn!reader, not edited

masterlist

If Miguel heard another one of your jokes, he’s pretty sure he is going to punch the computer—again. It seemed as if your favorite past time, which could be anything that didn’t involve him, was making fun of your height difference to Miguel.

It all started when Hobie and Peter made one singular comment. Personally, you hadn’t noticed that much of a difference. You weren’t extremely taller than him—maybe just an inch or two.

“Ay. Pete, look.” Hobie nudges Peter with his arm. Peter raises his eyebrows and then turns to where Hobie’s eyes are set.

You stood tall, watching intently to whatever words are spilling out of Miguel’s mouth. But for Miguel, his eyes were tilted upwards. He had to look up to get an actual good look at you.

“Holy f—” Peter cringes. “Sorry, Mayday. Don’t tell your mother.”

Hobie wickedly grinned. “Yeah, mate. This is a revelation.”

Miguel was serious, and brooding, as he always had been. You, on the other hand, were a much lighter spirit. Still, though, you towered over him and it was so pleasant to see.

“I’ve got to tell Miles about this.” Peter says, excitedly.

Hobie smirked and nudged his friend again. “I love anarchy.”

Peter furrows his eyebrows and May babbles out the words—trying to imitate Hobie. “Wait, what—”

“Miguel! Shorty! Little short stuff, yeah.” Miguel whips his head over to Hobie. “I think you’re gonna have to talk a bit louder to them.”

Miguel sighed, eyes flickering from Hobie to you. “I don’t have time for this—”

You couldn’t help but blurt it all out. “It’s because you’re shorter than me.”

Miguel’s eyes widened but they stayed right on you. A mere bystander would say that he’s angry, but you could tell he was flustered.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.” He places his thumb and index finger onto his nose. “Just get back to work.”

You pause your antics and give Miguel a small smile. Your hand reaches out to smooth over the holographic suit on his shoulders. “I’m only teasing, you know.”

He lets out a sigh, but he’s still nodding his head. “Yeah, I know.”

If he was being honest, he had always loved the height difference. He had loved how you could envelope his wide shoulders and place sweet forehead kisses on top of his head. He loved the way your eyes locked with his as his heart thumped rapidly across his chest.

You smiled at him—fully. You could tell that there was a blanket of warmth that settled over him. For a minute, you thought you were actually getting to him.

Miguel stands up to grab a file from a cabinet. It was the old way of doing things—an old method for storing precious items. Some of the spider people needed the older methods.

Miguel stands on his tippy toes. The file that he needed had conveniently been placed on the very top shelf of the cabinet. It was just his luck.

“Sorry, just—Miguel, do you need me to get that?”

He turns toward you and stares. He stares for so long as he watches you bite your lip. You were stifling your laughter at the whole scene before you.

His eyes squint, and your laughter comes to a halt. You clear your throat, “let me get it for you, Miggy.”

God, how can he not just melt at that? He watches as your tall stature easily grabs the file that seemed so difficult for him. There was the smallest hint of a smile on his face. He truly loved to watch you doing your own.

“You are so fucking lucky that I love you, cariño.” He mumbles incoherent curses as he sits down in his office chair.

You gently place the file into his hands. Lyla swirls beside him, echoing the same laughter that bubbles from your throat. “I’m with a bunch of idiots—goddamn idiots.”

[gala-xyzz]

hello tumblr i just woke up from this crazy dream

so in this dream, i was in the living room of my old house (a really big room with high ceilings and this ugly gray carpet everywhere), sitting in front of the tv cabinet with my wii turned on. i'm not sure what controller is in my hands, but it's definitely not a wii remote

anyways, there's only one game i can play, and it's some sort of kingdom hearts game. i don't remember the name, just that it had the word "dream" in it, but it wasn't 3d. the logo was totally different from other games (it was just big maroon text with a black outline). i boot the game up, and i'm talking to someone in the room about how nervous i am, but nobody's in the room that i can see. i get a response from a voice that one of my sisters (i think it sounded like mona?) telling me that i'll be fine and that i'm this close to completing the game

i'm on the start menu now. the background is a black with dark blue patches and is covered in stars. i look at my save file; apparently i'm on the final boss. i start it up, and get thrown right into the boss fight, thinking "i've done all of this before"

the fight begins. i'm on a long cobblestone path with weeds growing between the rocks, a grassy field to my left, a big river and a row of old houses to my right. the camera starts behind me, showing me a long, yellow dragon with red eyes. i can't see it's tail, the thing is that long. there is no end in sight to this path. in the top left of the screen, i am given my objective as the camera moves over to me: defeat and kill the dragon.

i am now playing as sora, though i'm not sure from which game, maybe kh2, except he has his kh3 haircut. i just know i'm playing as sora, with donald and goofy next to me. we are running on this cobblestone path, and we have to jump over these big rocks in the path, but for some reason they don't jump, and they eventually die

once they're dead, the dragon comes at me and kill me. i get a game over screen, but instead of being upset, i sigh and just try again. this time only goofy dies, and when the dragon reaches me i am ready for it. i attack it, but it never fights back, and i get through half of its help before it shoots up toward the sky. i follow it, but instead of donald for a companion, it's a german shepherd and a girl who looks vaguely like kairi.

we fight the dragon in space. it kills me again. i try again, getting back to the same point, this whole time talking to the disembodied voice of my sister, even though i don't remember a word i said. this happens a few times, but each time, something feels more and more wrong. until the final time i try again, where it is no longer the dragon i am fighting in space. it's sora, and i am playing as some blank shadow of a character, with no face or name, just a basic keyblade. i am alone. my companions are gone. all i hear is the game music

i fight sora. i win. he's crying in pain by the end. suddenly i am taken to a blue screen, with a sequence of numbers and letters on it. there is a white keyboard in my hand. i am prompted to type the numbers, but i am crying, because if i do this will kill sora for good. he is here in the room now, as his kh1 self, hugging my left arm, screaming and crying.

i remember the first handful of numbers/letters: O21b00000. after that, i don't remember the rest. but as i type, the numbers distort and look scribbly. there is a picture of a heart, and it breaks with each key i hit. i hit the last one, and sora screams loudly as beams of light shoot out of him. he is dead. gone. and i have won my game

i sit there as the tv turns off. i am dumbfounded and start crying. dearly beloved starts playing and i turn around, thinking "i have done this before" and i see sora, his kh4 self now, standing there with a smile. he's okay. i run over to him, screaming and crying, and when i hug him, i hear myself saying, "it's okay, you can wake up now."

i wake up. i'm on my couch. it's 8am and i need to feed the pigs.

what the fuck just happened.

[morrigan-sims]

Before & After

Not the most complicated editing here, just a bit time-consuming. I'm still proud of it, though. Aside from a couple adjustment layers and my usual beloved shadows, I fixed most of the clipping with the flowers in his hair and added in the serum. This time I actually drew shadows in the background. If you really zoom in you can see I accented the lip of the flask on the desk, as well as the curve of the empty scale tray. Oh, and I spent way longer than I should have adding in emphasis for the drawers on the filing cabinet. Not sure why I did that, since you can't really tell, but oh well.

[honey-beann]

Ruiner, Ruination (RK900 X Reader)

Chapter 8: An Uneasy Aftermath - Constellations and Well-Paired Colors

Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis:

Part 1 of a multiple part special in which Reader and Nines struggle to manage their concern for one another now that their respective injuries have forced them both to realize how destructible the other truly is.

This chapter includes a realization, a promise, a shower, some sharing, a minor wardrobe malfunction, and a great deal of longing and overthinking from both our beloved reader and everyone's favorite android.

AKA - Reader and Nines each contemplate how the other makes them feel, and struggle to reach the necessary conclusions afterward.

Word Count: 5,863

"Detective, I can assure you that while I appreciate your concern, there is really no reason for you to supervise me. My systems are entirely operational, including those involving the temporary parts installed earlier today."

You rolled your eyes at your partner while he attempted to persuade you to go home for the fifth time in three minutes as you stood in his kitchen, inspecting the pristine surface of the counter there with what was almost awe.

Of course, you hadn't expected your android partner's apartment to be dirty by any means, there was almost no reason for it to be given the fact that he didn't eat, drink, or sleep, but even so, this was just absurd.

There wasn't even a speck of dust anywhere, the cabinets were stocked with easy to grab nutritional food sources (likely so he could ensure you always had breakfast should you forget to eat it in the mornings before work), and the fridge was sparkling clean despite the thirium drinks found within, which you were almost certain Nines must have been gifted. He didn't strike you as a man who chose to consume literally anything, android beverages or media alike, for pleasure.

Still, even despite your fairly apparent surprise, you willed yourself to turn around and cross your arms at your partner before replying to his previous persuasions.

"Nines, you put me down as your emergency contact, let them call me, watched as I embarrassed myself after thinking that something terrible had happened to you, and then you revealed that you had weaseled your way into my personal health files weeks ago like it was a totally normal thing to do. No matter what you say to me, I'm not going anywhere, because I'll be damned if you don't learn some kind of lesson by being forced to have me babysit you for the night."

Nines gave a hum in response, a slight smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth as he shrugged and turned to make his way toward the living room,

"Whatever you say, Detective, but I don't think I loathe your presence quite enough to view it as punishment. You are getting there, though."

You scoffed at that and followed him into the next room, fighting the urge to gape at the cleanliness of this one as well as you watched your partner move to take a seat in an armchair nearby, one long leg crossing over the other as a hand moved to rest upon his knee in a way that had you staring at his fingers for what you imagined was far too long before you finally caught yourself and looked away, cheeks dusted a light pink as you cleared your throat.

"Well even if I wanted to, we both know I can’t just leave. You heard the technician, Nines, someone needs to stay with you for at least the next six hours to observe you and make sure there are no negative reactions to the temporary parts she had to install while you wait for the new ones to be manufactured and shipped out. That temporary circulatory pump is a huge concern, and you need to be careful not to overwhelm it so you don't risk damaging your thirium pump. She already told you how serious it could be if you aren't careful, especially in these first few hours as your systems get used to the less functional temporary parts." 

Nines all but rolled his eyes at your words as he leaned further back against the chair, watching you intently as he did so,

"The chances of me becoming overwhelmed, be it physically or emotionally, are incredibly slim, Detective. I was not built to experience such things."

"You also weren't built with temporary parts meant for an entirely different and non-military model of android, Nines."

You countered easily, choosing that moment to start looking around the living room rather than just stand in its doorway.

Carefully, as if afraid you might create a mess in the area simply by virtue of being there, you made your way over to a wall fitted with a large fireplace, and opened your mouth to comment on how dramatic it looked all decked out in black wrought iron, when you suddenly caught sight of the mirror that rested on the mantle and halted before you could say a single word.

In all your eagerness to bring Nines home and get him to let up on his insistence that your presence was unwarranted, you had completely forgotten about all the blue blood that decorated you and your clothing.

It stained your white button up, made dark marks on your brown pants, and was sprayed in disorganized spatters across your neck, cheeks, forehead, and hair.

But the most notable stain of all was the nearly perfect handprint, devoid of any fingerprints, that was wrapped around your right wrist.

You stared at that handprint, hands shaking slightly at your sides as you swallowed thickly, trying to keep the sound of a bullet hitting strong plastic out of your mind as you fought off the tears that sprang to your eyes at the memory.

Just this morning you had celebrated the fresh absence of your sling,

And only three hours afterward you had been hovering above your partner’s body, struggling to stop the blue blood from seeping out of the open bullet wound just below where his ribs would have been located if he’d had any.

And now you were standing in that same partner's apartment at 4:00pm, staring at the way that his blood covered your clothing and bare skin.

Everything had happened so fast, and you felt your mind reel as you tried your best to keep up with the events that had occurred throughout the day thus far.

Your vision grew cloudy as you stood there, swaying slightly in front of the fireplace, staring deep into your own reflection unblinkingly.

That is, until you felt a familiar hand graze the sleeve along your right wrist, instantly bringing you back to Earth.

There, standing at your side, was Nines, perfectly healthy and glancing down at you with what almost appeared to be worry.

"There is a shower in the bathroom down the hall, the second door on your right. You're welcome to use it."

You took a brief moment to consider how the hell your partner had figured out your inner thoughts so easily before brushing off the confusion and turning to face him better, offering him a small and slightly fragile smile,

"That would be great, but I don't really know how much good it would do me. When I checked earlier the only spare clothing in my trunk was a pair of jeans, which means I won't have a shirt to replace this one..."

You trailed off as you looked down towards that handprint once more, though you snapped back to attention immediately when Nines spoke up,

"If it is any consolation, Detective, I do not believe the blue blood present on your shirt will be visible for much longer."

You sighed in response, trying not to look too uncomfortable at his attempt to provide some semblance of comfort as you spoke,

"I know but... there's just something about it being there, even if I can't see it, that just doesn't sit right with me."

Nines was silent for a moment before he gave a sudden and rather sharp nod at your words.

"I will see what I can do. In the meantime, though, I really must insist that you take a shower. The longer thirium remains on the skin, the harder it becomes to scrub off."

You shuddered slightly at the thought of not being able to get your partner's blood off of you, and gave an almost immediate nod of agreement,

"Okay, yeah, then I should definitely shower, but you've gotta promise me you won't just leave while I'm in there."

Nines' lips curled upward ever so slightly at your words, amused by your persistent concern for his well-being but plenty willing to give in to your foolish requests if it meant you becoming more relaxed.

He hummed,

"I promise, Detective. Is that all?"

You considered his question for a few seconds before giving a slow and thoughtful nod in response, 

"Yeah, I think so. Anything I should know about the bathroom?"

Nines replied immediately, without requiring even a single moment of contemplation,

"The lock is on the door handle, the fan is to the left of the light switch, and you can lower the blinds to the window by pressing the button beside them, though I'm sure you aren't nearly tall enough for anyone to see anything indecent from the parking lot. In addition to this, you can find shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and most other common hygiene products beneath the sink. Feel free to utilize anything you find there. When you exit the shower, you should find two towels hung up to your right. Both are clean, though I do utilize the black one for myself when necessary, so be aware of that if the idea of using a towel I have used in the past causes you any discomfort."

Surprised by the sudden influx information, you spent a moment blinking rapidly before remembering that you were probably supposed to give some form of response to that,

"Oh okay, uh, thanks for letting me know. I'll see you after?"

Nines gave a hum of what you assumed was agreement before he began to walk toward the hallway he had mentioned you could find the bathroom in previously.

He pushed open the door to said bathroom and flicked on the light in two extremely fluid motions before continuing down the hall until he reached a closed door at the very end.

Said door opened to reveal a quick glance at a bed donning a soft looking black comforter and many plush looking gray silk covered pillows before Nines stepped in, his large form obscuring your view of the space as he made his way over to what you assumed was his closet towards a wall that you could not see from the angle you were standing at.

You watched for a few more moments after Nines walked out of view before you snapped yourself out of it and stepped onto the cool white tile of the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind you as you took in the space.

Shining white tiles with dark green accents covered the floor, and a similarly green backsplash was present in the area between the gold faucet sink and the gold trimmed mirror, both of which shone brilliantly as they caught the light, clearly very rarely used, and kept pristine despite that.

God, you were beginning to wonder if Nines might be even more of an eerily neat guy than you'd previously thought.

Deeming that consideration far too unimportant to dwell on further, you squatted down to better reach the cabinet beneath the sink, opening it to find a rather large number of toiletries stashed beneath.

Multiple rolls of toilet paper stacked neatly, a few bottles of shaving cream, a metal razor handle with disposable single blades, two bamboo hair brushes, a few packaged toothbrushes with different bottles of toothpaste standing beside them, some dental floss, a large bottle of mouthwash, dry shampoo, deodorant, and a container with different sorted sections containing things like hair ties, tweezers, scrunchies, barrettes, bobby pins, a sewing kit, and even menstrual products within its designated cubbies.

But what caught your attention above all else was the actual showering supplies, which consisted of your favorite bar of body wash, a biodegradable mesh soap bar bag, your favorite shampoo and conditioner, the exact scent of shaving cream from the very same brand that you always used at home, and the body scrub that went along with it.

You stared at these products for a while, taken aback at the idea that Nines had somehow figured out what you liked and purchased these things for you to have at his home should you ever need them, only to brush the idea off immediately, your cheeks burning at the thought.

Of course he hadn't done all this just for you, at best he had figured out what you used and assumed it was typical for all other humans as well, leading him to buy these things in case someone ever needed to take a shower at his place (excluding himself, of course).

You stood, shower supplies in hand, and placed them on the counter of the sink for a few moments as you moved to turn the water on, taking note of the two towels, one black and one green, that hung from the rungs. 

'Both are clean, though I do utilize the black one for myself when necessary, so be aware of that if the idea of using a towel I have used before causes you any discomfort.'

Is what Nines had told you earlier on, and you swallowed thickly at the idea of sharing a towel with your partner before shaking your head in embarrassment, desperate to rid yourself of the thought as you picked up your supplies once more, placing them down carefully where they belonged in the shower before beginning the process of stripping down, trying not to pay attention to the blue blood all over your clothes and body as you did so.

And then, after giving the temperature of the water one final check, you stepped in, giving an unintentional and almost surprising sigh of relief as you did so.

The water was hot and soothing against your tense muscles, and for just a few moments, you allowed yourself time to bask in that comfort despite the stressors awaiting you back out in the real world.

Meanwhile, unbeknownst to you, as you began the process of scrubbing semi-dried blue blood off of your skin, Nines was exiting the master suite, having laid a white button up across his neat black comforter to await your need for it.

The shirt would likely be rather large on you, given that it was one of his, but since you claimed to have a pair of your own jeans in the car, he was confident that your outfit wouldn't be so excessively unfitted that it would look unkempt.

He sighed and looked toward his wrist to check his watch, a rather human habit he’d developed despite his constant ability to know the time at a moment’s notice without the use of a device that attached to his body.

It was 4:35 now, and you had only been in the shower for around five minutes.

He glanced towards the bathroom door, the dull slap of water hitting tile the only sound emanating from your general vicinity.

He then looked at the door to his apartment, considering his options.

He had made a promise not to leave, and intended to keep it, but even so, he knew it made almost no sense to wait for you to exit the shower just for him to go down and get you your jeans anyway, and it wasn't as if you could do so yourself without new pants to wear down to the parking lot below.

Plus, he had only promised not to leave, and you had neglected to define exactly what "leaving" entailed.

Nines gave a subtle smirk at that, deciding that with that logic, you had no ground to stand on as long as he didn't actually leave the property, which he had absolutely no intention of doing in the process of collecting your spare pair of jeans.

So, with that, the android made a beeline for the front door, grabbing both his house keys as well as your car keys before he stepped out into the hallway and locked his front door behind him.

He took the steps slowly and at his leisure, though he notably went two at a time the entire way down until he reached the entrance to his apartment complex, which allowed him access to the gated parking area.

Once outside, it was easy to unlock your car and locate your pants within the trunk before shutting and locking everything all over again, your jeans slung over his forearm the same way that his shirt had been previously as he leaned against your car and looked up toward his apartment, where he was shocked to see that you hadn't bothered with closing the blinds at the window that looked into the shower.

Thankfully, he had been right about the pane being too high up on the wall to reveal anything one might consider intimate, but even still, Nines found himself staring as you ran adept fingers through your hair, rinsing the shampoo from it with your eyes peacefully shut against the consistent barrage of water raining down from the shower head above.

He continued to watch in an almost curious manner for a few more moments before realizing you were likely close to finishing, a fact which caused him to move a bit faster up the stairs during his return to the apartment, unlocking the door with ease before stepping back inside and closing the door swiftly and silently behind him.

Nines listened closely, hearing the familiar sound of water on tile as he made his way down the hall and over to his bed to set your jeans down alongside his button up.

There.

You would likely be done any minute now, and when you were, you could -

Nines’ inner thoughts were cut off by the sound of your phone ringing from somewhere across the apartment, and as he focused more on the noise emanating from the device in order to find it, he felt his brow wrinkle in curiosity.

Where could you have left that?

As Nines began what would be a very short and simple search for your cell phone, you were finishing up in the shower, fighting back a shiver as you lightly ran the soap bag containing your favorite bar soap across your torso, the unfamiliar texture tickling your skin in an unexpected manner.

The perception of yet another foreign sensation had you thinking back to all of the other unfamiliar feelings you’d experienced lately, though one in particular seemed stuck at the front of your mind.

Without even realizing what you were doing, you allowed your thoughts to wander aimlessly to the way that Nines' hands had gently cradled your hips as he’d lifted you up to the ladder earlier that morning, and how similar the memory of those hands felt to the water that was now caressing your skin, causing light blue liquid to spill down the drain as it washed away the blue blood that had stubbornly remained despite your persistent scrubbing.

Suddenly, broken out of your reverie by a slight temperature shift in the water, you startled, cheeks hot with embarrassment when you realized what you’d been thinking of. 

God, what was up with you lately?

You had been thinking about Nines almost nonstop, particularly when it came to your more physical interactions, like when he had helped you in and out of your dress for the gala a few weeks back, or when you had grazed his neck at the same aforementioned event and received a rather surprising reaction from him in response.

But even still, despite the memories of the other physical moments that had occurred between the two of you, the recollected feeling of his strong hands gripping powerfully onto your hips as he’d lifted you up with an almost practiced ease had your mind reeling and your heart racing for reasons you were fairly certain you didn't want to consider further.

And even though you tried to convince yourself that these reactions were completely normal, you still found that guilt was getting the better of you.

This was Nines you were thinking about, the cold, stubborn, and calculating military model android that you called your partner, who, despite others’ perceptions of him, felt a great deal of responsibility and worry for your well-being, as well as the well-beings of many more on top of that.

You thought back to when he had been shot earlier that morning, how he had comforted you even while he was so seriously injured and in pain, and the fact that he had done so as if it were the only possible option.

In Nine's mind, ensuring your safety, be it emotional or physical, was of the utmost importance, even when his personal safety was at risk, and as much as he would likely deny that verbally, his actions spoke volumes.

Nines had been willing to endure what most would consider to be an immense agony with a straight face just to make you feel less worried for him,

And here you were, in his bathroom, unable to stop yourself from thinking of the way his hands had felt as they’d wrapped easily around your hips, his torso just inches behind your back while he’d lifted you mere moments later, that usual air of confidence somehow both annoying and reassuring all at once as he’d done so.

Fuck, you really needed to get a grip.

Grabbing the shower valve dial in a manner that could only be described as aggressive, you held back a squeak as you forced the temperature down further, dousing yourself in much colder water in an effort to end your unwelcome thoughts.

Just moments later though, you failed to hold back a second squeak at the sound of knuckles rapping thrice against the wooden door, before Nines' voice followed shortly thereafter,

"Detective, please come out at your earliest convenience. There is something that requires your immediate attention."

At those words, you found yourself cursing under your breath before reaching to turn the water off entirely, grabbing for a towel and wrapping it around yourself all the while.

Hurriedly, and with an almost impressive level of speed considering how slippery your environment was, you stepped out of the shower and onto the mat below before allowing your feet to press against the cool tile as you made your way over to the door, previously worn clothing forgotten in a heap below the towel rack as you reached to unlock and open it, allowing a gust of steam to exit the bathroom and pour out into the hallway instead.

There, standing against the wall opposite the bathroom, stood Nines, and you watched as his eyes scanned the length of your body before halting suddenly, as if he realized too late how that may have looked.

You chose to ignore it.

"What's going on?"

You all but panted out, tightening your towel dress around your chest and ensuring it was secure even as you spoke, suddenly far more aware of your lack of clothing now that Nines was watching you.

"You received a phone call regarding a case nearby. Our presence has been requested at the scene due to the state of the victim and the proximity of the crime in comparison to our current location."

Your eyes widened as Nines spoke, and you struggled to form a response as you realized what he was saying,

"Wait, but we were supposed to be taken off of the page list for the night after what happened earlier today. Was this some kind of mistake?"

Nines shrugged his shoulders,

"I am unable to discern the level of intent that was had by dispatch when they requested our support at the scene. I simply stated we would arrive as soon as is feasible."

You gawked at your partner's words, crossing your arms over the exposed skin of your chest as you gave him a look that could only be described as pure exasperation,

"Your technician said you needed to take at least the rest of the night off, why wouldn’t you just say that we're unavailable?"

Nines gave a dismissive hum, his hand moving in a manner that suggested the dilemma you had brought up was of very little importance.

"I saw no reason to turn down the case, as all that would do is delay the inevitable."

You scoffed, adjusting your towel again to ensure it was firmly tucked into itself before you placed a hand on your hip,

"And what exactly is the inevitable in this situation? That you blow a fuse trying to interrogate a suspect because you refuse to just take it easy until your new parts come in?"

Nines shook his head, replying as if your question had been far more sincere than it actually was,

"No Detective, the inevitable is that the department sends in someone else in our stead, they neglect to solve the case, and we are left to deal with the mess that they made in the process of their failure."

You rolled your eyes, but gave a relenting sigh that your partner knew meant you no longer had any hope of not joining him at the scene,

"There are literally three other people in the android crimes division, Nines, how much mess could they possibly make?"

The android in question gave you a rather pointed look and took a step back before gesturing toward his room,

"I am confident that I don't need to answer that question for you, Detective. Now, if you're finished in the bathroom, you're more than welcome to use the bedroom at the end of the hall to change. I took it upon myself to collect your jeans and find you a shirt while you freshened up."

You glared at your partner before begrudgingly agreeing, briefly heading back into the bathroom to grab the clothing you had abandoned on the floor previously to ensure that you would have undergarments to wear, since you severely doubted Nines' ability to procure those for you.

With that, you started making your way down the hall, taking note of the way that the android was quick to follow. 

"You broke your promise about leaving you know."

You stated matter of factly as you passed the threshold to the master bedroom, trying not to look as in awe of the large space as you actually were when you turned to face your partner, who tilted his head slightly in response to your words,

"On the contrary, Detective, I was actually very careful to keep it. I neglected to leave the property, and therefore did not leave in any meaningful sense of the word."

You rolled your eyes and placed a hand on the door, preparing to shut it in order to give yourself some privacy,

"Whatever you say, Nines. Is there anything else you need, or can I get changed now?"

Nines shook his head,

“No, there is nothing else that I require, Detective. I’ll wait here in the hallway in case there’s anything you may need.”

You gave a slight nod and muttered a soft "Thanks", before you closed the door, sighing gently while stepping back to sit at the edge of the large California King sized bed, the black comforter that covered it feeling slightly cool against your skin as you began to dry your hair to the best of your ability.

After finishing up with that, you stood and prepared to get dressed, even though the shirt Nines had provided would clearly be big on you.

You started with your undergarments before moving on to your pants, stepping into the familiar clothing with ease before you tugged the large white button up Nines had given you over your head, immediately noting just how soft the fabric felt against your skin, and how despite it clearly being clean, it still had that faint smell that reminded you so thoroughly of your partner.

Turning, you looked in the mirror, letting out a quiet chuckle at the sight of yourself in Nines' shirt, the sleeves hanging well past your hands in a way that made you look like a child playing dress up again.

You shook your head at the situation you’d found yourself in, tucking the front of the shirt into your jeans before threading your belt through the loops, doing your best to look as professional as possible despite your lackluster clothing options.

You were just about to glance toward the mirror and look at your reflection one final time when a set of three firm knocks on the door brought your attention elsewhere.

"You can come in!"

You shouted back, hearing the gentle click of the door opening just a few moments later as Nines slowly stepped into the bedroom, his gaze falling to your new clothing immediately.

Laughing a bit, you held your arms out and gave a slow spin,

"How do I look? Do android tailored shirts suit me?"

You asked sarcastically, watching as Nines cocked a brow and stepped forward, his gaze flitting across your form as he fully took in the sight of you, before finally, he opened his mouth to speak,

"The clothing is plenty suitable as long as you feel comfortable wearing it."

You rolled your eyes a bit at that, shrugging as you pushed the sleeves up towards your elbows messily, crinkling the fabric in disorganized patterns that had both sleeves falling back down towards your wrists unevenly as a result.

Nines all but scoffed at your actions,

"And how do you intend to inspect a crime scene with your sleeves getting in the way, Detective?"

You shrugged dismissively as you began to search for some sort of hair tie in the pocket of your jeans

"Eh, I'll roll them up on the drive over."

You grinned to yourself as you found an elastic in your back pocket, preparing to turn toward your partner to finish your conversation when you felt a light tug at the fabric of your sleeve, which had begun to dangle off your hand once more.

Surprised, you looked toward your left arm, where the sensation was coming from, only to find that Nines was holding it between two sets of fingertips, seemingly contemplating the fabric before he looked up at you expectantly,

"May I, Little Mouse?"

You blanched at the now familiar nickname before regaining your composure and nodding slowly, barely resisting the urge to sigh in exasperation,

"If you really think you have to, then sure, but I can do it myself, you know."

You clarified quietly, your voice sounding more than just a little breathless as you spoke.

"I believe you're perfectly capable, if that's what you're worried about, Detective. I simply believe my assistance might speed up the process for us both."

Not sure how to reply, you just nodded silently, ignoring the quickening pace of your heart as your partner stepped forward, now much closer as he lifted your hand up to his shoulder so he could roll the fabric of your borrowed shirt sleeve up your arm in tight and even folds. He continued with this until finally, he reached the area just above your elbow and stopped, using the button tab to hold the sleeve in place before he gestured for your right arm, placing your hand similarly upon his shoulder before he began the process once more.

You watched closely all the while, feeling almost in awe of Nines as you studied the way his face looked up close, counting the constellations of freckles that dotted his artificial flesh, and taking note of the way that his jaw shifted as he concentrated heavily on the task at hand, completely unaware of your watchful gaze as he worked.

However, what you were entirely unaware of yourself, was just how focused on you the android truly was.

Despite his consistent perfection when it came to the task at hand, his mind was much more occupied with the way you looked in his clothing.

His shirt, that had been tailored explicitly for him and no one else.

He had never considered before that something made solely for him could look so right on someone else, much less his smaller human partner, but even so, he found himself enamored by the way your fingers had wrapped around the sleeves as they had dangled below your hands, and the way the shirt seemed to flutter about your body even after you had tucked the front of it into your jeans.

But above all else, his mind was stuck on how well the color of the fabric looked against your skin despite its neutral tones, as if you had been the person made to wear it all along.

He broke himself out of his internal reverie just as he began buttoning the second sleeve in place, his artificial breaths that he hadn't consciously chosen to pause starting up once more as he rooted himself firmly in reality again.

Despite him clearly being finished, the two of you remained in that position for just a little while longer, him with his fingers brushing gently against the skin of your arm, and you with your hand holding loosely to his shoulder, your faces suddenly seeming much closer than just seconds before as he lowered his gaze from your sleeve in order to meet your eyes, the intensity of his piercing gray/blues shocking you for a moment before you managed to regain your composure, clearing your throat lightly as you lowered your hand from his shoulder hesitantly, your gaze slowly dropping away from his and instead moving to the mirror to the right of you, where you found your reflections staring back, unyielding in their persistent attention.

Suddenly though, you watched as Nines' LED briefly circled yellow just seconds before your phone gave it's familiar notifying chirp of a work page, causing you to groan and look around for it, only to have Nines give a subtle smirk and roll of his eyes before pulling it out of his pocket and handing it to you with only a silent quirk of his brow that nearly made you want to punch that slightly smug look off his face.

He always found amusement in how easily you lost things or sometimes even outright forgot them, leaving him to remember their importance and carry them on his person in order to ensure the two of you remained at "peak efficiency".

You, on the other hand, were not nearly as big a fan of how often he'd been right regarding your persistent forgetfulness, even when you were actively trying to remember everything that you needed.

Sighing, you reached over to take your phone from your partner, mumbling out an annoyed “Thanks.” before you checked your most recent work notification and frowned, glancing up at the android standing before you,

"Are you sure you want to do this? We can just call out."

Nines didn't even seem to give your question any thought before he simply nodded and pulled your car keys from his pocket, spinning them around on his index finger casually,

"I'm sure, Detective. Is there anything else you need before we go?"

Letting out yet another sigh of pure exasperation, you shook your head, barely resisting the urge to roll your eyes as you replied,

"Nope, nothing else. Let's get this night over with."

AO3 Link

Series Masterlist

[aswithasunbeam]

Hey! As you know a lot about the time period I’m wondering if I can ask you a question. From what I’ve seen, John Hamilton’s biography of his father was criticised because it claimed that Hamilton authored many of Washington’s letters (and I gather he was criticised by people who admired Hamilton). Did Hamilton actually author many of the papers under Washington’s name - did people just not want to believe it because of Washington’s reputation or for political reasons?

Hamilton definitely authored a good number of Washington's papers. During the Revolution, Hamilton's job as Washington's aide de camp included the duty to pen letters for George Washington. A quick search of Hamilton's papers on Founders Online shows a total of 889 letters written in Hamilton's handwriting that were sent under George Washington's signature.

What brought much more political controversy was Hamilton's involvement in the drafting of Washington's famous Farewell Address. All those years as Washington's aide meant Hamilton had a great knack for writing in Washington's voice. When Washington determined to step down from the presidency, he sent Hamilton a draft for a Farewell Address that James Madison had worked on four years previously (See Hamilton to Washington, 10 May 1796). Hamilton reviewed Madison's work, but decided instead to send his own version of what he thought Washington ought to say to the public. (See Hamilton to Washington, 30 July 1796). Washington ultimately tweaked Hamilton's draft and also passed it around to members of his cabinet for input, but much of the Farewell Address was in fact authored by Alexander Hamilton.

Because Washington generally tried to remain above the party politics of the time, it being widely known that his beloved last words to the public were penned by Alexander Hamilton would have started a political firestorm.

When Hamilton passed away in 1804, Rufus King went through his papers and took the draft of the Farewell Address that would have proved his authorship, fearing Hamilton's family would publish it to give Hamilton credit for the work. Eliza Hamilton spent years attempting to reclaim the document. She even visited Mount Vernon at one point to look through Washington's papers to see if there was a copy of Hamilton's draft there (see The Life and Correspondence of Bushrod Washington, v. VI, pp.617-18). Ultimately, she had to file a lawsuit against King in 1825 to reclaim the document. Eliza did not, as King feared, immediately make it widely known that Hamilton had authored the Farewell Address. However, she did record a statement to be released after her death where she detailed her own personal knowledge that Hamilton had drafted the Address for Washington. In that statement, she related the following amusing anecdote: "Shortly after the publication of the address, my husband and myself were walking in Broadway, when an old soldier accosted him, with a request of him to purchase General Washington’s Farewell address, which he did and turning to me said, ‘That man does not know he has asked me to purchase my own work.'" (Elizabeth Hamilton’s Statement as to Washington’s Farewell Address, as published in The Intimate Life of Alexander Hamilton). Her statement was one of the many, many ways Eliza worked during her life to help preserve Hamilton's legacy.

[ambridge-autumn]

May in Ambridge - Part 1

Friday 3rd May 2024

One family faces devastation...

It had been a long day at the vets’. Denise’s feet and back were sore, and her eyes were swollen. Euthanising clients’ pets was never easy, but… three in one day? And the third client hadn’t even stayed in the room while his dog took his final breaths…

One last look at the world, and that poor dog had seen his beloved human walk out the door.

Some people said it was cruel to take the life of an innocent creature, just because it was ill. Others said it was cruel to keep an animal alive and in pain, to endure treatments that might not even work.

But Denise knew: the really cruel thing was to leave an animal to die on its own, or with only strangers by its side.

The phone rang in reception, shaking Denise out of her thoughts. She remembered suddenly that she’d come into the store cupboard to get more supplies for Alistair’s clinic room. Now, then… what was it he’d asked her to fetch?

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

At the recepton desk, Paul picked up the phone. “Good evening, Lovell-James. This is Paul speaking. How can I help you?”

His father’s voice came down the line. “Hi, Paul, how are you?”

“Oh, fine, thanks, Dad, just doing some paperwork. Busy day, so there’s a lot to catch up on.” He looked down at the stack of files on the desk in front of him, and sighed. Most of these would get a, “deceased,” stamp, and go in the bottom drawer of the filing cabinet. It had been that kind of, “busy day.”

“Oh, right. Listen, I just called to let you - or your Mum - know not to worry if I’m not there when you get home tonight. It’s a lovely evening, so I’m going out on my bike. I’ve made a lasagne, so pop it in the oven when you like. I’m sure I’ll be home by the time you’re ready to serve it up. See you later.”

“Oh, my favourite,” Paul said, “I love your cooking.”

Just at that moment, Denise came out of the store-cupoard, carrying a box of staples and a jar of paperclips.

Paul waved her over. “Mum, Dad’s on the phone. Do you want to say hello?”

His mother grimaced apologetically, and shook her head. “Sorry, love, I’m in a bit of a rush. Love to your Dad, though! And then she disappeared into Alistair Lloyd’s clinic room, the door bumping shut behind her.

Paul chewed his lip and fiddled with the phone cord - yes, Lovell-James was still in the Dark Ages - as he said, “Sorry, Dad, she’s so busy. Um… So we’ll see you later, then. I love you. So does Mum!”

“I love you, too,” said his father, “Bye, now.”

The line clicked, and Paul was left alone at the reception desk. Alone to wonder how his father could find anything appealing in cycling, or how his mother could be in any kind of rush to deliver stationery.

He shook his head, and went back to his files.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Denise put the staples down on Alistair’s desk, and then perched on the edge.

“Now, then,” she said, “Now that we might actually have some time alone…”

Alistair grinned, and got out of his leather swivel chair. He wrapped his arms around Denise’s waist, and lifted her to her feet, drawing her close. “I was just thinking something similar myself. Listen, Jakob’s covering the surgery tonight. I thought you and I could go somewhere together, just the two of us. I’ve been wanting to try out the new rooms at Grey Gables ever since it re-opened. What do you say?”

Denise rested her forehead against his, and groaned. “I can’t. John’s expecting me home…”

“Well, tell him there’s an emergency at the surgery… or a callout!” Alistair kissed her. “I’ll book us a room at Grey Gables, and we can… spend as long there as we want… and nobody will be any the wiser.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” She kissed him, and then rested her head on his shoulder. “Bring your callout kit. I’ll tell Paul to go home without me, and let John know I’m working late.” She drew back for a moment, her dark brown eyes melting into his bright blue ones. “Are we really doing this?”

Alistair laughed softly. “I think we are.” Again, he pressed his lips to hers. “Now, go and get ready, and remember to make it look urgent.”

“You just want to see me out of breath and pink in the face,” Denise said.

They both giggled.

They let each other go, and Denise hurried back out to reception.

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

“Paul, love, you’re going to have to see yourself home for supper,” Denise said, rushing past the desk, “We’ve had an emergency callout. Injured sheep.”

“What, at Brookfield?” Paul said. He’d grown quite fond of the Archers’ docile sheep. The thought of one of them geting hurt, today of all days, pulled at his heart.

“Yeah, yeah, Brookfield,” Denise lied, glad that Paul was filling in the details for her. She realised she’d have to let Alistair know what information she’d fed her son, but she’d have time for that late. “So Alistair and I are going up there, now. Can you drop the car at ours, and then walk yourself back to the Stables?”

“Dad’s cooking,” Paul reminded her, “So I’m coming over for dinner. You remember?”

Denise stopped rummaging through her callout bag, and looked up. Her face fell. “Oh, my God, I completely forgot!” A pang of guilt shot through her chest. Ruining a nice family meal…

“Don’t worry,” Paul said, “It’s lasagne. Easy to save some for later. And Dad said he wanted to go for a bike ride, so you might get back in time to eat together anyway.” He smiled brightly. “In the meantime, I shall try not to gobble it all up by myself. But I can’t make any promises. After all, everyone I love is abandoning me, and my favourite food will be right there… I might be tempted to comfort-eat.” He sighed theatrically, and then grinned. “No, really. Don’t worry. Make sure that sheep’s all right!”

-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-

Denise waited for Alistair to unlock his car, and… well, maybe it shouldn’t have come as a surprise - he was a gentleman, after all - but it did: he held the passenger door open for her.

“Oh, thank you, Alistair!” she said, climbing in and settling on the leather seat. Lovell-James was certainly generous with its company cars, even if it was only the vets who drove them.

“I’ve been looking forward to doing that for so long,” he said, getting into the driver’s seat and starting the engine. He pulled the door shut and reversed out of his named parking space, skidding on the gravel as he sped them out of the carpark. “And, with any luck, I’ll be doing it for you a lot more often from now on.”

Denise giggled. “I’l like that. John’s never really gone in for chivalry.” She reached for Alistair’s left hand, and laced her fingers through his. “God, I can’t believe we’re finally… you know! Having a night together!”

The car hummed down the country lanes, over the Am, and around the bend towards Grey Gables. Hedgerows loomed in the headlights. An owl flew alongside Alistair’s Mercedes.

And a deer leaped into the road, right in front of them!

Alistair slammed on the brakes, swerving and swearing as the tyres slid across the tarmac. “Jesus Christ!” The car stopped.

The deer ran away, unharmed.

Just for a moment, Denise and Alistair thought everything was fine.

And then something crashed into the bonnet, metal smashing into metal as a shape thumped the windscreen, cracking the glass.

Denise screamed, her hands flying up to protect her face.

Alistair gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white. He reached for the handbrake, put on the hazard lights, and tried to breathe.

Only one of his car’s headlights was working, now… but it was enough.

As Alistair opened the driver-side door, he could see a body lying in the road.

“Oh, God, Denise,” he murmured, ears ringing, “I’ve hit someone.”

“What?” Denise’s voice cracked. “How can--”

“I think… When I swerved… I must’ve--” Did it matter how it had happened? He’d hit someone… Someone who was on the ground now. That was the important part.

Alistair unclipped his seatbelt and climbed out of the car.

He crouched down by the casualty, blood wetting his hands. “Hello, can you hear me?” And then he saw the man’s face. A face that he knew. “Oh, God!” he yelled, “Denise, call an ambulance!”

Denise was already on the phone, stumbling out of the car. “Ambulance, please. There’s been an accident.”

She tripped over something, and cried out, “My leg!” When she looked down to see what had gouged her calf, she saw the buckled front wheel of a bike.

As the ambulance dispatcher started asking about, “breathing and conscious,” Denise staggered around the front of the car.

And then she screamed.

“Denise, give me the phone,” Alistair said, holding out his hand, “Don’t look! Don’t look at him!”

But it was too late.

Denise sank to her knees beside him, numbly handing her phone to Alistair as she stared at the man laying still in front of her.

Road-rash had obliterated the tattoos on his legs. His hi-vis cycling shorts and jersey were torn and soaked in red. And the flashing, flashing, flashing of the hazard lights kept lighting up his open eyes. His brown eyes.

John’s brown eyes.

And the last thing Denise heard before she fainted was Alistair’s voice.

“No, no. I can’t find a pulse.”