#vacuum glazing

[theblogs2024]

How To Setup Glass Brick Windows And Employs

A lot of architectural aspects built of various resources have received level of popularity. Even though some of them offer fantastic aesthetic appeal, others are noted for featuring substantial performance levels. Glass bricks are among the All those aspects that provide the best blend of favor and features. This is the reason behind their rising use in installing glass shower enclosures and glass Home windows. Often known as glass blocks, they offer a range of advantages that the homeowners appreciate to get. Industry experts could be employed to put in glass blocks Home windows, although Lots of individuals prefer to get it done them selves. Contrary on the perception that setting up them can be a complicated work, the course of action is pretty uncomplicated and enjoyable. Here are a few sections giving more information about these factors.

Availability: There is not any limit towards the types where glass bricks are created all over the globe. Not Many individuals regarded that their use started as yearly as 1900s. Nowadays, the suppliers source them in a very selection of various designs, measurements and colors. These stunning blocks are also offered according to distinct obscurity ratings. With regards to the Place of installation and level of privacy, the homeowners can conveniently acquire them. Advantages: Blocks crafted from glass quickly depart the traditional clay blocks or bricks far at the rear of during the race. The incredibly very first benefit is the fact glass bricks are energy preserving. Thanks to their vacuum sealed designs, these bricks present better diploma of insulation. The next advantage is these blocks enable the entry of organic light. Common brick enclosures make the overall atmosphere uninteresting and dark. Bricks made of glass render an aesthetic attractiveness which makes the world lively. The homeowners can obtain preferred privateness with glass block windows, devoid of compromising Together with the all-natural light-weight. Yet another gain is these blocks is usually availed in numerous kinds providing resistance to harsh climatic conditions. They are also counted One of the most secure products for supplying resistance to fireplace and vandalism. Bullet resistant glass bricks are also produced in a variety of countries. Installation Guidelines: The main essential phase of putting in a glass block window is to possess the right measurements. This may help in getting these bricks in correct dimensions. The following phase is to get ready the picket body for set up and help it become immune to water resistant using moisture proof papers. This could be accompanied by mixing of glass block mortar in accordance with the company's Guidance and According to the necessity. Start off by making use of the mortar to the base, making certain that it is evenly distribute. Utilize mortar into the vertical facet of the main block and take care of it over the mortar distribute. Continue fixing the consecutive glass bricks by applying mortar over the vertical facet of every. The excess of mortar would be squeezed out and may be taken off thoroughly. The following stage would be to position and correct a reinforcing bar and an L-shaped metallic strap before beginning the second row of blocks. The blocks must be leveled, aligned and continuously spaced and This could be ensured for each row. Will not disturb the installation for the next forty eight hours, ahead of the glass brick window gets a wonderful Element of your home To know more details visit here: vacuum insulating glass

[zhongrin]

spending your weekend with...

© zhongrin | 2024 ✼  [✘] no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. [✓] rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley, jing yuan, blade

✼ tags ┈ fluff, established relationship, more fluff, your honor they’re all so whipped it’s cringe /silly

✼ a/n ┈ she lives!!! and oop, off she goes back into hermit mode after posting-

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

... the husband of all husbands, zhongli ー your feet walking along the familiar path of nature's trails and having picnics between the green-yellow grass of liyue’s vast fields. pretend you don't see a familiar shade of seafoam-tinged feathers flying past into the dense leaves of the trees adjacent to the one you take refuge under. maybe one of these days, the yaksha will finally accept your invitation to have a family dinner in your abode.

delving into the harbor's market, buying groceries and getting sidetracked by knickknacks. too many times, you've let the mora in your pouches pass across the merchant's for yet another antique teapot or an accessory you can never seem to have enough of. perhaps a dragon's hoarding nature is contagious to its partner? either way, you never fail to finish up at night with tea served in delicate glazed earthenware, brewed by your husband's expert hands. and if those same hands decide to spoil you further as you both cuddle in your nest-bed, even better, no?

... your al haitham, who, on rare occasions, would have a junior akademiya scholar approach him while you were out, in hope to acquaint themselves with the former acting grand sage. he's always quick to shut them down, the bluntness of his words deterring the situation to progress further. you think you see him smirk when the poor lad scurries away, but as he returns towards your side, his hand finds home around yours and all is forgotten.

a café isn't exactly a place he would choose to frequent on a crowded weekend. but the coffee's good, and you seem content as you chatter across the table. while it's scientifically impossible and irrational, there's just something in your voice that seems to create a vacuum bubble that allows him to focus on your endearing rambles. he listens, and he thinks he should record you talking, just so he can play them in his soundproofing headphones whenever.

... the one and only duke in fontaine, wriothesley, who follows you around like a loyal guard dog. it's probably thanks to you that he's not growing shrooms on his fur jacket from all the time he spent down in the damp fortress underwater. you take him shopping, persuade him to try out coffee, sample some foods that isn’t wolsey’s cooking… and if you so happen to bump into your friends, you're both usually always more than happy to adjust your schedule ー a sudden tabletop game session with clorinde and forcing persuading neuvillette to perform dereliction of his duties for a moment to relax are a few examples.

but above all, his favorite has to be bringing some snacks to sit down under a tree with you, watching fontainian poodles frolic around the dog park. maybe one day you'll have a puppy of your own, but for now, your beloved is ‘content with just you’, he says with a cheeky grin.

... your dozing general-arbiter whose brain seems to only want sleep and cuddles whenever the week starts to wind down. waking up to jing yuan who’s akin to a very sleepy big cat draped over your body using you as a pillow is how you would always start your weekend, and it's only at these peaceful moments that the man turns into a heavy sleeper. had he been a real lion, you think he might be purring up a storm as he snoozes, pillowed shamelessly against your chest.

your lover prefers a slow, lazy day with you whenever he has the rare time to take himself out of his duties, and naturally his free weekends are included in this. maybe start with a morning cuddle (in bed), a nap (in bed), both of you cooking lunch (in the kitchen), another nap (maybe on the recliner sofa because why not), a leisure night walk around aurum alley, and a night cuddle (yes. again. in bed)? hmm. yes, that sounds perfect.

... blade, who doesn't exactly have 'weekends', per se. chances are, he doesn't even know what day today is. plus, there's no guarantee that you were with him if he's away on a mission, anyway. but when you were around? you have his full (nonverbal) permission to drag him wherever and to do whatever you want.

you want to travel to the nearest planet for a bottle of soulglad when everyone else is asleep? pick a ship, he'll steer. you want to have a spa day and pamper yourselves senseless, braid his hair while you both have an overpriced face masks on? a useless act for him, especially considering his circumstances, but he'll massage your head if you give him enough puppy eyes. you just want to rot in bed and contemplate your existence? as long as you let him lay his head on your chest so he can hear your heartbeat, he’s good. either this man does not realize how much you have him wrapped around your finger, or he just does not care. it’s probably the latter.

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈

@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths

@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader

@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie

@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone

@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee

@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc

@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer ! @euniveve ! @centralballad

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

What a Mess 6

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: thick!Bucky Barnes

Summary: Your new job isn’t all that you expect. (maid AU – short!reader)

Note: hate me, baby.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You pack away your kit and drag the vacuum to the elevator. You give one last look to the condo then tap the button and wait. You jitter as you stare at the doors, urging on your escape. From this place, from him. 

He didn’t hurt you, did he? He wasn’t cruel but he also didn’t stop. He didn’t ask. He just... did that. But you’re the one who touched him first. But he said yes. That’s the difference, isn’t it? Or did you give him permission by initiating the whole breach of behaviour. 

“Doll,” his hands clamp down on your shoulders and jar you from your anguished trance. You gasp and look over at the metal fingers curling around you. “What’sa matter?” 

You quiver as the elevator doors open. You grip the vacuum tight and try to walk out of his grasp. That’s a foolish thought. He keeps you as you are. 

“You’re in a hurry?” He wonders. 

You gulp and drop your head, the hose quiver in your hand. You wet your dry lips and shudder. You can’t hear over the thumping pulse behind your ears. 

“Hey,” he spins you and the vacuum hose falls from your grasp. You blink up at him, staring at his face if only to avoid another glimpse of his naked form. He cups your head. “Your heart’s about to explode. Why don’t you sit down? You been working hard.” 

You touch the back of his hands as your eyes glaze over, “please...” 

He searches your face, his expression lining with confusion, “what?” 

Your lip trembles and you drop your arms. You can’t fight him. You can feel that same oppression as before. His body over yours, smothering you, suffocating you. This isn’t just a man, this is a super soldier. 

“Are you scared?” He asks. 

You nod without thinking. He retracts his touch and turns away. “I was... nice.” 

You hug yourself as the elevator shuts and descends. Your way out weighs heavily on the wires as it disappears. You dig your nails into your arms. 

“I’m scared too, doll,” he turns back again. You wince and avert your gaze to the wall. “It’s been a long time... long time since anyone... since I let anyone...” He marches toward you and you back up until you hit the doors. 

You watch him in horror as he gets down on his knees. He grabs your wrists and unfolds your arms, clasping them in his and kissing your knuckles. You whimper as he opens your palms to him and brushes them over his thick beard. 

“I need you, doll. You can’t leave me like this,” he begs. 

You don’t know what he wants. You can’t figure why he’s doing this. Why he’s clinging to you like a scared puppy. You didn’t do anything but your job. No, you touched him first. 

“I only wanted to help,” you whisper. 

He kisses your palms and hums, “you did, baby. You did.” 

“Bucky, I have to go,” you quaver. “Home.” 

He hisses and goes silent. He continues to toy with your hands. He guides them to his hair as he shuffles closer on his knees. He grips your hips and pulls you forward. He nuzzles your pelvis with a growl and you squeak. 

“Bucky!” You squeal. 

He purrs and rolls his face against you, his thumbs pushing into your soft flesh. He continues to nuzzle you firmly, rocking his head as he inhales your scent through your jeans. You babble helplessly and push on his shoulders. 

“I can make you feel good, doll,” he looks up at you with beaming blue eyes. “I wanna. So bad.” 

You wriggle but don’t offer much resistance. You feel his strength and your lack of. The doors are shut, in all ways. 

He snakes his hands around to your bottom and suddenly, he stands, lifting you off your feet. You cry out again and latch onto him in fright. He hooks your knees around him and gives a sultry growl over your hair. He carries you away from the elevator. 

You quake against him as you resign yourself to his whims. He takes you around to the front room and sits you on the sofa. You lean back and brace the cushions as he traces along your waist band. He pinches the front and pushes the button of your fly free. 

Paralysed, you watch him, a hollow shell as he pulls down the tab of your zipper. He exhales deeply as he once more feels along the denim and hooks his fingers beneath. He tugs, jerking you, peeling your pants down to your thighs. 

You plant your heads firmly to keep from slipping down as he rolls your jeans past your knees. You shiver as he exposes you to the airy space. His eyes crawl up your legs and frames your waist as he bends over your lap. 

His hand creep down to your shaking thighs and push them apart as he bows further. He breathes into the front of your cotton panties and nips the fabric. He snarls and presses his nose against you, dipping into your slit.  

You squirm as his trails a fingertip along the crease of your leg and tugs aside the cotton. You quiver as he purrs and slides his tongue along your folds. You arch your back, pushing your head into the cushions as you whine. The coolness of his mouth mingles cloyingly with your warmth. 

He flicks up and down as you squeak and twitch, slapping the cushions as your insides writhe uncontrollably at his tending. His finger grazes along your skin and he prods at your entrance, teasing it as his tongue swirls around your clit. You hiss and hum, trying to hold back the moans trapped in your chest. 

You bite your lips as your head lolls and your eyes roll back. Your fear gives way to something more vulnerable, something undeniable. You latch onto his head and arch your feet as the tension winds in your core. 

He’s right. He hasn’t hurt you. If you’re good, then he won’t. If you’re good, it will feel good. Right? 

[archangeldyke-all]

it's hard to fluster sevika, unless you manage to catch her off guard...

something short and sweet for u from me :)

love, angel

men and minors dni

the first time you fluster sevika was on your second date.

the two of you were making out on her couch.

she was trying to be good, to resist the urge to flip you over and fuck you through the couch. she kept her hands above your waist, kept the two of you vertical.

she wanted to treat you like a lady, you were the first person sevika ever felt the need to actually woo.

and while you were charmed by the flowers and the goodnight kisses on the cheeks and the sweet way sevika was clinging to your waist to keep her hands from wandering, you were desperate to get in her pants.

so you pulled away from the heated kiss to whisper in her ear. "don't know if you're interested in this, but i thought i should let you know i'm not wearing any panties right now."

when you pulled back, you were greeted by the lovely sight of a flustered sevika.

her eyes were wide and glazed over, her mouth open in shock. her dark skin disguised most of the blush in her face, but not all of it. the tips of her ears and the apples of her cheeks were flushed with a lovely rouge.

in that moment, you made it your life mission to see that look on her face as much as you possibly could. (and in the next moment, you were being body slammed onto her couch by a ravenous sevika.)

your next few attempts at getting sevika flustered were failures. lingerie was met with a salacious smirk. kissing her in public led to the two of you making out against the front window at a convenience store. when you gave her a lapdance, she simply leaned back in her chair and enjoyed the show.

the second time you managed to fluster sevika was a complete accident.

she had been having a really shitty week, and at that point, half a year into dating, you'd been given the spare key to her apartment.

you let yourself in while she was at work to clean up the clutter that had gathered over the week.

you did the dishes that had piled up, washed the laundry, put fresh sheets on her bed, dusted vacuumed and took out the trash, and arranged a bouquet of flowers in a vase on her bedside table.

you weren't expecting to run into her that day, she was meant to be working all night. but just as you were shoving your shoes on to leave, the door clicked open.

sevika looked exhausted. at the sight of you on her couch, her expression quickly shifted to joy.

she quickly stepped inside her apartment, only to pause as she took in her surroundings.

for several long moments, she was quiet. her eyes were darting back and forth, taking in the clean kitchen, the empty laundry hamper, the dinner on the stove.

you began to fidget, nervous that her silence was an indication of anger or discomfort.

when her eyes finally met yours again, they were filled with a look of shock and affection and... was that a blush?

with understanding dawning on you, a smile crept up your face. sevika's blush grew at your knowing grin.

"you did this for..." sevika trailed off.

"for you babe. just wanted to make your week a bit better." you said with a nod.

you tried your best to soak in the sweet ruffled expression on her face, but all too quickly you were being tugged into her chest for a bone crushing hug.

you expected her to be flustered when you walked in on her masturbating. she wasn't. instead, it was you stuttering apologies and tripping over your feet to get to the bed when she invited you to join her.

when she caught you, though, it was a completely different story. she froze in place, blinking rapidly, gulping loud enough for you to hear from across the room. when you spread your legs wider to make room for her she let out an adorably giddy laugh before she scrambled over to you.

sevika wasn't flustered on your wedding day, but that night? she was basically melting into the sheets as you rode her in your white bridal lingerie. you watched in adoration and fascination as her blush intensified each time you call her your 'wife.'

when silco decided to put sevika on night patrol for a month, you managed to go about two weeks before you marched down to his office to give him a piece of your mind. he simply hummed and raised an eyebrow at all your protective angry rambling, and you thought that was the end of it until you turned to march yourself back home and ran straight into a lovestruck and flustered sevika.

you pressed a quick kiss to her blushing cheek and fled silco's office, silco's voice trailing behind you. "i'm glad you have her."

sevika's content little hum in response made you smile the whole way home.

[slugbutter]

this post will probably amount to nothing & be lost in the endless landfill of the internet, but i just have to note how warped the news coverage of the united healthcare situation has been. they're acting like we were shocked & scared. like the heroic police & skillful feds worked with an enthusiastic public to bring this menacing ne'er do well to justice!

i mean, sure? maybe ceos were quaking in their designer chelsea boots, but me & my crocs were solid.

it's not lunacy to condemn murder & vigilante justice whilst also acknowledging that nothing happens in a vacuum. violence can seem like the answer when the "proper channels" don't work. we left violence in the past because we found less bloody, more productive means of resolution. key words: more productive. if those less bloody means fail.. i'm just saying, there's a logic there. (but "correct" & "coherent" aren't synonymous, of course).

oh, also—the law enforcement glaze is nuts. drones this. database that. algorithm whatever. brah, you were looking for him in georgia? a fuckin' mcdonalds employee in pennsylvania snitched cause they recognised his eyebrows. that's how you caught him. exactly as you would've sixty fuckin' years ago.

[solspina]

Is This a Library Date?

ahzek ahriman ⋆˙⟡

another dumb blurb that i decided to write instead of going to sleep! i’m still working on clearing up my asks box, i promise. not proofread :)

ahriman managed to make it into the black library, only to be stopped by a human guardian. he manages to escape back into the warp, but he doesn’t leave without unwanted feelings.

warnings: n/a

their eyes stared into the armored sorcerer of tzeentch, cold and unfeeling.

“intruder” they stated, their voice hard like the steel of the sword pressed up against his chest as his hands remained in the air in surrender. “identify yourself”

it would take nothing for him to slaughter them. to have them turned to dust with a wave of his hand and nothing more. to have them be sucked in by the warp, to manifest the most powerful vacuum known to the universe and command it to swallow the little guardian of the black library whole.

instead, he stood frozen.

“ahzek ahriman.” he stated, his voice warm and glazed with honey. he knew, going into this, that the black library would not be an easy target to acquire knowledge from. he’d expected a fight, a confrontation, all out war. he had not anticipated a much smaller, weaker, and yet stunning figure to emerge from the shadows.

the moment he saw them, he had come to a halting stop from his sprint. something had stopped him from dealing with them as simply and swiftly as he had the others.

perhaps it was the intelligence they radiated, perhaps it was the pain he had seen in their eyes, the longing for something greater. or perhaps it were their eyes themselves, the most beautiful pair of sightseeing organs he’d ever seen. perhaps it were their lips, or the way they were so confident in the illusion that they had gotten him cornered.

maybe it was the fact that whatever stood before him was the epitome of what mortal beauty could be. he felt great loss in the fact that the emperor would hide it away within the depths of the library, for something as striking as them should only know the light of the stars and to sit prettily atop a throne.

“state your purpose here, ahzek ahriman.”

“knowledge. that is all…” he knew that acting upon the sword pointed at his chest meant that his life was at stake, and that if they drove the sword through him before he managed to turn them to dust, he’d be a lost cause.

yet he hesitated.

they tried to speak to him. to tell him that his time in the black library was over, but before their sword could pierce any further, he moved in the blink of an eye behind them, placing his spear to their back between their shoulder blades.

psychic energy now radiated through the air as they whimpered slightly in pain. “i’d hate to take the life of such a pretty thing…” he spoke to himself, seeming to contemplate before shifting his focus to them.

it was incredibly obvious that their assailants had never bested them before, the way they seemed to open their mouth in shock. he noticed the way tears pricked at their eyes, and whether it was their initial reaction to knowing they may die or their response to the pain manifested by the power radiating from his spear, he did not know.

“why don’t we let each other go, yeah?” he asked, attempting to strike a deal with the young guardian of the black library, wishing to avoid killing them.

in the back of his mind, he prayed that they agreed to his request. it would truly pain him to deprive the world of something he thought so beautiful, and it would pain him even more knowing that he’d never have a chance to come back and take them away from these dark and winding halls.

they trembled, afraid to lose their life, but seemed to nod their head. he allowed them to turn and face him. he used a portion of his psychic energy to rip their sword from their hand and throw it to the ground. their eyes widened slightly at the proximity of the thousand sons chief librarian. the two of them were nearly chest to chest as he took a breath and spoke again “you keep your life, and i keep mine?”

they nodded again in response, afraid and shaken up by the near loss of their life to such a powerful psyker. they seemed to be dazed in their fear, allowing ahriman to lift his helmet just above his nose. dark brown hair came cascading down his shoulders, his armor not confining it to his head.

he seemed to be overcome by an impulse, the way he kissed their tears away. he shushed them into silence, an attempt of comfort as to not get them caught before he could escape back into the webway. he would take them with him, if the warp were safe enough for a mortal being, it was the safest way to know they couldn’t tell anyone of what happened today.

but he knew he couldn’t. not now. not yet.

he turned as the air seemed to crack open, leading himself back into the warp while pulling his helmet back over his head.

the young guardian reached for him, almost as if they wished he wouldn’t depart from them so soon. they had more questions for him, he could see it in their eyes. their interaction had been short and sickeningly sweet.

he placed his hand in theirs, lifting the back of their hand to his helmet, mimicking the action of a kiss. “i hope you are able to catch me, when i return.” he laughed.

he relished once again in the thought of this human traveling through the webway with him. he thought of the way he would scribe runes onto their skin in golden ink. he thought of the way he would introduce them to magnus, the way the crimson king would smile like a proud father at the sight of his most beloved son courting a human that looked like they belonged in the emperor’s gallery of statues and intricate paintings. even tzeentch would be proud.

“if i catch you first, i will not be the only one forbidden from entering this library ever again.”

[kechiwrites]

decided to break it

toxic baby daddy!ghost x reader

part 4/?

synopsis: babies change everything, and neither you, nor simon handle change very well at all.

wc: 2.2k

cw: afab!reader, angst, hurt with no comfort, language, break up fic, abandonment issues, no gendered language, discussions and depictions of pregnancy. no use of y/n ever.

author’s note: im back <3, more tomorrow, or perhaps later tonight if i feel up to formatting on this hell site. for kitten, shia, nori, 👩🏿‍🍼 anon, and everyone else who cheered me up when i felt super down post-holidays

new to baby blue? start here.

"Fuck." You murmur, maybe for the fourth time since the 15 minute timer had gone off on your phone. The word doesn’t seem heavy enough to sum up how you’re feeling, but you give it a few more tries anyway, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” The word 'pregnant', however, is the heaviest you’ve ever seen, latching onto your limbs and skin and dragging you to the floor beneath you. ‘Pregnant’ stares you in the face from the stick in your shaking hands, punctuated with a little smiley face you can barely see through tears. In the back of your mind you kind of wished you'd gotten the kind with the little ambiguous pink lines, just so you could pretend you didn't understand what two lines instead of one meant. Just for a little bit. Alas, the pharmacist recommended the slightly more expensive test, the kind that gives you a week estimate. The kind that tells you you've been fucked for 3-4 weeks now.

Every emotion you'd been feeling up until then cedes to white hot panic. It's hard to breathe in your little blue bathroom.

You wonder what he'll say. 

No. 

You dread what he’ll say. 

It’s nothing you two have ever talked about, not in the cold blackness of night, when he’d sat in your arms with his face bare to you and murmured every gory detail of his upbringing to you and not a goddamn therapist. Not the following morning when you’d sobbed your terror of the future, and losing everything you had into his lap. And certainly not when you had mutually decided you were “getting serious”.

And now you have to. You have to tell Simon you’re pregnant.

There's a pit in your stomach when he comes by that night, mask off and eyes warm, considering like they always are. You get swept up in how it feels to be near him, to have him crowd into your space, soaking your senses in his scent, his warmth. He kisses you gently, so soft it makes you want to cry. He used to say he wasn't capable of being like that. Not with you. Not with anyone. 

Instead of sobbing into his chest like you’re desperate to, you chide him about wearing his boots in the house. You take the time he needs to unlace them to memorize what being with him feels like in this moment, the last time things will be easy. 

He levers up and nudges his boots over to yours, where they sit side by side. Tears choke your voice again, and you’re praying it’s just a pregnancy thing rather than a ‘you being an unstable wreck’ thing.

“Sit.” You turn to the kitchen, setting your kettle on the stove and turning the knob to high. He hunkers down on the worn cream leather of your couch. You linger in front of your stovetop as long as you can, fussing with the mug Simon uses almost always, an ugly misshapen pink thing you’d made at a beginner ceramics class four years ago. It’s chipped at the lip, rose coloured glaze cracked, exposing the beige clay underneath it. Your hand glances over boxes of tea, back and forth over colourful labels that may as well be written in gibberish for all the luck you're having reading them. 

It feels like there's no air in the room, like the secret under your t-shirt is taking it all, vacuum sealing your room until your chest burns and your head feels like it's going to pop. You tear open a brand new box of earl grey, stuffing it back onto your shelf when the tea bag is sat securely in the cup. 

"What's wrong?” He grouses from the couch, and it’s only then that you realize your shoulders are hunched up around your ears. 

“I..” your stomach rolls and sweat begins to bead on your forehead. You can hear him stir in his seat behind you, shifting forward so he can peer at you from your living room. Saliva gathers in your mouth, and oh god, maybe you actually will throw up, it’s too early for morning sickness right? Unless the stupid tests were wrong and now you’re going to cover your countertops in the stew you had for lun-

“Hey.” Simon is standing behind you now, his hands gripping your shoulders, shaking you lightly until you whip around to face him. The kettle is screaming now, filling your home with that shrill, high shriek of steam from the boiling water whistling through the appliance's tiny spout. 

Somehow it’s still quieter than your pulse pounding in your ear.

“I’m pregnant.” You choke out, if only to stop yourself from retching over Simon’s socked feet. God, it’s like time stops, then it splits and cracks in clean halves. Into before and after he knew. Before and after his concerned expression crumbled into disbelief, before and after he schooled that disbelief into placid nothingness. And it’s not like you’d entertained the delusion that he’d be happy about it. But the silent hang time before he reacts is this terrible, hollow, unknown that tears up your insides and relishes in the shiny, red viscera. 

A gruff, quiet "Are you sure?" is what you get from him, when he finally recovers, and you try so hard not to let it bother you. It's a shock. A surprise. A loud bang in the middle of a serene night, a cannon going off in your face, a gunshot into the sky when you thought the race was an hour from starting. 

You try to give him a bit of grace. Still, the pit in your stomach grows.

Now it's a bit of a sinkhole.

"Baby, I wouldn't be telling you if I wasn't sure." You move to snag your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, to tug him close so you can hold each other, support each other, but he take a small step backwards, letting his palms slip from your shoulders. 

The sinkhole is a cavern, yawning wide, open and empty. 

You toss your hope and love inside.

“I need…some time.” He mutters, slinking out of your space, out of the kitchen and back into your entryway. 

'Time to fucking what?' you think, but hold back. You know Simon. You love Simon. And you remember where he's come from. What he's come from. You realize a second too late you should be following him, and when you stumble over the kitchen threshold, he’s tying up his boots, his broad back facing you. You try to peer around him, try to get a look at his face, desperate to gauge where he’s at. But when you notice he’s knocked your shoes over in his scramble to get away, to be anywhere but here, you stop moving..

“Y-yeah. Okay. Just..uh, get back to me soon okay?” you stutter, and wrap your arms around yourself, like you know Simon won't. Not with the way his hands are shaking. 

He doesn’t even respond this time. 

The soldier just stands. He opens your front door. And walks out. Leaving you in your entryway. Water past its boiling point in the kettle.

You don’t see him again until you’re four, nearly five months along, the bump under your clothes now impossible to hide. When you stumble into your home, exhausted from working, he’s in your living room. Sitting there in his mask at your tiny dining room table. Like no time has passed at all. Like he should be there. You realize you never did get your spare house key back.

“Get out.” you spit, blood boiling under your skin. 

"I know you're upset-" He begins, like he’s about to deliver a practiced speech.

"Get the fuck out!" Your tone is caustic, and you hope it burns him, hope it strips off all the facade on the rotting structure he is underneath.

"I never meant to leave it so long. This." He won't even say it. Can't even refer to you, let alone your baby. He stands up and becomes this big, dark mass in the bright space of your living room, black mask, black shirt, black boots, just a huge black hole that sucks up every good feeling you’d had in his absence, every ray of light that’d shone through the dark gloom he’d left behind. Nothing escapes his pull. 

He peers at you from the gap in his mask. The stark white skull stretched over his face mocks you, maliciously whispers in your ear; ‘Did you think you knew him? That he was honest with you? Open to you?’

And you had. You did. You thought you were making progress, building some semblance of a future, falling in love.

It makes you sick to your stomach to think of it.

"You want to apologize, take the fucking mask off Simon." Your voice breaks, and part of you hopes he hears it for the plea it is. Hopes he understands what you’re asking of him. Hopes he feels how bad you missed him, under the hurt and pain and bitter, bitter loneliness. If he would just take it off, just pull the stupid fabric over his face and show you he was still yours under there, that he’d make a mistake and he’s ready now, then maybe the two of you could fix it. This.

Instead, his silence, his stillness cracks open your ribcage and pours black ink over your heart.

Humiliation and anger simmer on your tongue. What comes next is shockingly easy. "Oh you can't do it, huh? Can't be a fucking person with me, huh?" You shove at his chest, and he takes it, staring at you with pain in his eyes. Like this is hurting him.

"I shouldn't have waited so long, but I-" he steps towards you and it feels so good to rip away from his touch. To step back from his advance.

"No!” You shout, and your face is so hot, skin ablaze with righteous anger. “Shut up! Three months? Are you out of your fucking mind?"

And yes, one month of that was deployment, you’d known that, you’d talked about it, together. One month of no contact. One month of sand and heat and blood. But the other two months had been that white hot panic you'd felt on your own, in that tiny bathroom with the peeling blue wallpaper he'd promised he'd help you strip and replace. The other months had been missed calls, and ignored texts and you getting bigger under your sweaters because unlike him, you couldn't just take a break from the situation.

“Get the fuck out of my house!” You shove past him, deeper into your home, spinning around so he’s closer to your entryway than you are. “Don’t you ever show your face here again, do you hear me?” You’re screaming now, much to Ghost’s visible discomfort. Good. You hope your nosy ass neighbours call the cops. You hope they physically remove his pathetic ass. You hope they embarrass him. (It isn’t very likely, of course. But God, could you dream).

“You can't just keep it from me.” He steps closer and you lament that he has you on the backfoot. It’s your space, your home and yet it feels as though you’re the one who’s out of place, off kilter and uncomfortable. You glare at him. 

“It’s mine too.”

‘It’ he says, and that bothers you. Irks you. Him calling your baby an ‘it’. 

“Give me a fucking break, it wasn’t yours when you left me, you couldn’t wait to get your sorry ass out of here when I told you. Now you wanna play daddy? I don’t fucking think so.” You dig your fingernails into the meat of your palms, leaving aching crescents in their wake. 

“And you know what? Maybe it’s my fault for wanting to be with someone who is so fundamentally fucking broken that he couldn’t fucking bear to show me his goddamn face until I’d begged him. Maybe I’m the idiot for thinking you could ever be capable of love, of decency. I needed you. And you abandoned me, Simon. You are a fucking monster.” 

The word hangs in the air, hovering between the two of you where it can’t be taken back, and it sure as hell can’t be forgotten.

“You are good at distancing yourself, you are good at killing your feelings. Keep doing that. Stay the fuck away from me and my kid.” You’re panting when you finish, and everything hurts, one of your hands is bleeding, your eyelids prickle with the pain of unshed tears, your throat feels strained and tight. He nods once, jerky and quick, before he takes an unbalanced step back. Then another and another, his eyes never leaving yours, like he’s looking for something, anything other than hurt and hatred.

But there’s nothing else to find.

He turns, opening your front door and trudging out, heavy footfalls bracketing short moments of gut wrenching silence. It feels final. But it doesn’t feel good. Not like you thought it might.

He’s halfway into his SUV when you scramble out your front door, shouting over your porch railing to him in your driveway. “And get rid of my fucking keys!” He stares at you, standing stockstill, before he gets in the driver’s seat and pulls away.

whew, nice to post ghosty-poo again

series masterlist here

support city girls, reblog what u like

[vecnuthy]

obnoxious

@steddiemicrofic October prompt: suck | wc: 480 | G | no warnings |

Eddie and his friends poured over notes in the booth across from Steve and Robin, but had devolved into silence.

Well.

Almost silence.

Gareth tapped a straw against the table top, Jeff scrunched audibly on very crunchy house-made chips, and Freak wrapped his knuckles on the tabletop.

And then there was Eddie.

Bane of Steve's existence.

The light of Steve's life.

Steve leaned against his and Robin's table with a sickeningly fond gaze that he hurled in Eddie's direction as the guy made the most god-awful noise with his straw. It sounded like a vacuum cleaner trying to pull up a mound of kibble. Eddie struggled absentmindedly to pull every single last drop of his Dr. Pepper from the bottom of that glass, to catch every bit of the essence of those 23 flavors as they melted off of the ice and dripped down into the vortex of insanity, as Robin just called it.

"I'm about to smack that out of his hand," she said through clenched teeth.

"I know," Steve practically sighed out, eyes still glazed over as a little smile played at his mouth.

"Really? You look li-"

Eddie shook his glass around obnoxiously, then continued to suck.

Steve could practically feel Robin clench her fists and grit her teeth. "You look like he just saved a kitten from a tree," she spat out, clearly annoyed.

"Oh. No, I have literally never been more annoyed in my entire life," he said, still gazing adoringly at the personification of gravel in a blender.

But that was his personification of gravel in a blender.

"You're ridiculous. And hopeless." And she was at her limit, so she balled up their receipt and chucked it at Eddie's face, but it landed short and on top of his notebook, making him give one last startled suck as the whole table jumped from the intrusion.

Eddie snapped his head over and gave Robin a scowl that matched her own, as he hissed, "What?!" But his face softened into something gooey when he saw Steve's. "Hey," he grinned out.

Steve gave a little wave.

"Would you stop?" she hissed.

"Stop what?"

"Your drink-based chainsaw impersonation!"

Eddie narrowed his eyes at her, then whisper-shouted, "I'm thirsty."

"Get a refill," she whispered forcefully at the same time Steve held out his glass and said, "Have mine."

Eddie smiled brightly at Steve, got up, and took the glass from him with the most ridiculous levels of eye contact between the two of them, then sucked the drink through Steve's straw.

Eddie's face fell.

"Is this diet?"

Steve chortled softly as Eddie looked a little betrayed but still accepted it and sat back down.

"So. As I was saying, there's a bakery with a couple positions listed, and they're willing to see us on Thursd- are you kidding me?!" she quietly shrieked as Eddie's second glass rattled ridiculously again.

[five-hxrgreeves]

Two Positives Equal a Negative (Or Something Like That)

PAIRING: adam warlock & fem! quill’s sister!reader

WC: 2.8k (again, a long one. I just can’t seem to write anything short!) 

SUMMARY: you’ve always had trouble sleeping thanks your numerous (unfortunate) life experiences. While he hasn’t lived as long as you have, Adam has a similar problem. Fortunately, a Terran phrase that your brother taught you might have the solution that you seek.

WARNINGS: slight gotg three spoilers, fluff, angst if you squint.

AUTHOR’S NOTE: okay, so I accidentally lied and I realized that my last one-shot wasn’t my first official one; I wrote a Natasha x reader several years ago. I just don’t post on here that often so I forgot about it, lol. Anyway, Adam Warlock currently has a chokehold on me so here’s another one-shot for him- the sequel that I mentioned on the last one. I’m tempted to write a Gally one/two-shot, but I’m not familiar with the TMR universe so I’m worried that I’d mess it up.

Also, I know that the phrase is actually ‘two negatives equal a positive,’ but I was drawing on the fact that non-Terrans wouldn’t really remember/understand Peter’s references, and since ‘you’ had only been to Earth during Endgame, you it mixed up.

Part 0 , Part 1

You’d always had trouble sleeping, especially on your father’s planet. There had just been a sense of. . . wrongness that you didn’t need Mantis’ empath powers to feel. It had made you on edge most of the time, alert for the unseen danger that you felt. While this might’ve just been your role as Ego’s protector speaking, you knew that your sister felt similarly. Mantis had once offered to put you to sleep using her powers, which you’d agreed to. Although it had worked, you hadn’t liked the feeling of your emotions being messed with, or the vulnerability that came with sleep. Even though you trusted that your sister wouldn’t hurt you, Ego was a different story entirely.

So, that meant that you were up most of the time with only catnaps and snatches of sleep when absolutely necessary. (Luckily your enhanced stamina helped in this case so it wasn’t terribly detrimental to your wellbeing.) It was hard to hide your unusual sleep patterns on the Milano with your new friends since there wasn’t space to walk around like there had been on Ego’s planet. But the Guardians all had various traumas of their own, so they understood the difficulty of getting peaceful rest. Some nights had even been better than others as Peter would teach you how to play Terran card games, which would then include the rest of the Guardians once you’d learned.

You also liked to sit in the pilot’s chair late at night and watch the darkness of space light up around you. It was funny, really; everyone expected space to be a dark, black vacuum of nothing when it was actually just the opposite. Sure, there was no physical form of life, but space was alive in its own way. As the Milano sailed aimlessly through the stars, you’d pass the orange-red clouds of dust and gas— nebulas. Or the brilliant white-blue of a dying star, or the different hues of blue-black that surrounded you. Space was truly beautiful, which was something that you never tried to take for granted.

But now you were stuck on Knowhere. There were no brilliant colors of space to distract you or friends to play card games with. Mantis was gone— your only source of comfort on those long nights when you’d served your father. You were alone, with nothing but a Zune to distract you as you sat, bored, in the kitchen late into the night. You’d decided on some calmer tunes and were currently listening to the Frank Sinatra playlist you’d curated. A warm mug of tea— which Peter had also introduced you to— sat between your hands as your eyes glazed over, getting lost in your music.

--

As it turned out, Adam wasn’t that great of a sleeper, either. It always felt like there was too much energy running through him to be properly restful— not to mention that, whenever he closed his eyes, he saw his mother waiting for him as he flew desperately towards her. And then the explosion would come, jolting him out of sleep as a reminder of his failure.

With a sigh, he pushed back his covers and stood. Since he was already dressed (his mother had always told him to be ready for anything), he made his way to the kitchen where he’d baked cookies with you. It hadn’t been that long ago, but he already missed the comfortable, homey feeling he’d gotten as he formed the batter into spheres with you standing at his side. You had yet to talk to Rocket about how his comments made you feel, but he knew it was because you respected your teammate and didn’t like making a big deal out of things. Thinking about you now, he sort of hoped that he would see you in the kitchen when he got there— but that was a crazy thought; it was the middle of the night! Any normal person would be in a deep sleep by now.

So, it was definitely a pleasant surprise when he came upon you, sitting at the head of the table. Your earbuds were in your ears, as usual, and you seemed to be deep in thought as you absentmindedly traced the rim of your mug with your finger. He was comfortable enough with you to approach you without hesitation, so he took the chair next to yours and nudged you gently to get your attention.

You jumped, startled by the unexpected presence of someone else in the room. At first you had a wild thought that it might be Peter, who came to keep you company as he often had. You were only mildly disappointed to see that it was Adam instead (and this was just because you missed your brother; you were actually quite happy to see the golden boy.) You took out your earbuds and paused your music. “You’re up late. Or early.”

His golden eyes met yours— something you noticed that he did often; it seemed that eye contact was his way of showing that he was listening to you, which always made your stomach flutter pleasantly. “So are you,” he replied. “Can’t sleep?”

“Nah,” you said with a shrug. “You?”

“Me either,” he agreed.

You sat in a comfortable silence together, one so long that you were almost tempted to  put your earbuds back in. Maybe this was a one-off thing; you’d never seen him before on your sleepless nights. Maybe he wasn’t used to being up at this hour and just wasn’t as talkative as he normally was with you. But you were also curious; what could a supposedly perfect being be troubled with at night? So, you sighed, and against your better judgement (as you hated to talk about your feelings), you asked, “wanna talk about it?”

But Adam also knew how you were, and he shook his head. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind just sitting here.” He got to enjoy your company, after all, so he considered tonight to be better than most.

You let out another sigh. As much as you hated getting touchy-feely, the night was already very boring; sitting and not talking would only make it worse. “I don’t mind, actually. I’m used to being around other people when I’m up like this. Talking would make the time pass faster.” You studied his expression for a moment, which was unusually unreadable; it always seemed like he had a kind smile or glance to send your way. “We can start off easy, if you want. Are you up like this every night?”

His expression softened at your willingness to go outside your comfort zone, so he answered honestly. (He had nothing that he wanted to hide from you, anyway.) “Most nights, yeah. What about you?”

“Same,” you agreed. You played with the rubber protective tip on your earbud. “Can’t get to sleep or bad dreams?”

“Both,” Adam admitted. “Although it’s usually the first one.”

You nodded. “Same, again, but for me it’s mostly the latter. You remember when I said that you weren’t the first person to try and kill me?” At his confirmation (because how could he have forgotten that?), you continued, “yeah. It’s mostly that. My father was a great parent,” you finished sarcastically.

When you’d first become friends, you’d shared stories about the Guardians’ adventures— even the ones that had happened before you’d joined the team— although they’d mostly been lighthearted in tone. You’d acted like they hadn’t really affected you and had laughed at the fact that your father’s planet had tried to swallow you whole. Adam sort of wished that your father was still alive so he could fight him for you. While his mother had had her moments of parenting issues, he’d never doubted that she did love him; it was clear that this wasn’t the case with your father.

“I’m sorry,” he said, not really sure what else he could say. Despite everything that had happened to you, you were still a good person; you hadn’t fought the Guardians on your first meeting like he had, which already made you better than him. He wished that there was something he could do (such as getting revenge for you) to help ease whatever burden you were feeling as you often had for him, but there didn’t seem like there was anything that he could do.

“Don’t worry about it,” you replied in a blasé tone, already moving on from your heavy things. “Want to talk about your stuff?”

He shifted in his seat, a little uncomfortable to admit his failure to you. He wanted to prove that he was just as capable as you were, and this was one of his worst moments. “I. . . keep thinking about my mother.” His gaze dropped to where his hands were folded on the table, unable to watch your reaction in case you thought worse of him. “How I. . . wasn’t able to save her. I was so close, too. If only I’d been faster—”

You reached out a hand to put it on top of both of his, cutting him off. Yours was much smaller in comparison, barely covering even one of his hands. He looked up at you with surprise, feeling his face heat up at the contact. Your usually jovial expression was uncharacteristically serious as you chided him gently, “stop. Thinking like that never helps, you know. You’ll drive yourself mad if you keep wondering ‘what if.’ I should know.”

While he was relieved that his fears about your reaction were unfounded, he frowned at your last words. “What do you mean?”

You pretended not to notice that your hands were still holding his as you answered, “remember what I told you about the Snap?” At his nod, you continued, “Peter and I were the only ones who weren’t trying to subdue Thanos. My powers are mostly defensive, so they would only anger him, which was the opposite of what we were trying to do. Peter got— understandably— distraught at the news of Gamora’s death and he was practically solely responsible for the Snap.” You sighed heavily, dropping your gaze from him. “As the only other person not doing anything on that planet, I could’ve stopped him, but he was my brother; I couldn’t hurt him. But if I had. . . everything could’ve been so much different. In a way, I was responsible for the Snap, too.”

While he understood your reasoning, he didn’t completely agree with it. You’d filled him in with great detail about the Infinity War, which you’d only learned the missing parts after you’d been brought back. So, he insisted quietly, “Thor could’ve also gone for Thanos’ head, but he didn’t.”

“But Thanos wouldn’t have even gotten to the Terran planet if we’d stopped him on Titan. You see what I mean? These what-ifs really messed with my head— still do. You eventually just have to accept the fact that the situation can’t be changed and learn from your mistakes.” In a lighter tone you added, “I promised myself that the next time I needed to sock it to Peter, I wouldn’t hesitate. Maybe a good hit to the head would knock some common sense back into him.”

Adam chuckled at this, his serious expression lifting. Sensing that you didn’t want to talk about such emotional topics anymore, he changed the subject slightly. “So you’re up every night because of these thoughts? Don’t you need sleep?”

“Yeah, but I’ve got enhanced stamina, so not as much as a regular person,” you said, relieved that he picked up on your hint. “What about you? You’re practically a god yourself.”

He felt his face flush with (pleased) embarrassment at your indirect compliment, even if it was truthful. “That’s part of the problem, I think,” he explained. “All this power. . . it gives me too much energy and. . . I can’t sleep.”

You frowned thoughtfully at your similar predicaments, an idea (admittedly, a stupid enough one that Peter could’ve come up with it) forming in your mind. “Y’know,” you began slowly, “Peter taught me a Terran phrase awhile back. I can’t exactly remember how it goes— it’s like two positives equal a negative, or something like that— and it means that when there’s two good things, it cancels out the bad one. We could try and apply it here.”

He gave you a curious look. “Really? How?”

“Well, since we both can’t sleep— that’s the negative— maybe. . . maybe if we slept. . .” You felt your face burning at your suggestion. “If we slept. . . tog— well, not together-together, I mean— with each— does that sound worse? I—” you struggled to find the right wording that wouldn’t come off as suggestive. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you added hastily, misunderstanding his bemused expression.

“Little Quill,” he teased you lightly, “you haven’t even gotten the question out.”

Oh. You only felt even more embarrassed. “Do you want to sleep in my room?” you finally managed to blurt out, burying your face in your hands, unable to look at the boy across from you.

Instead of taking offense or making fun of you as you’d expected, Adam seemed to actually consider your offer. “Do you think it would work?”

At his question, you dropped your hands to your lap and shrugged, though your face was still very red. He seemed remarkably unflustered, not that you could tell if he was (damn his beautiful golden skin— wait, what?) “I don’t know,” you mumbled, still refusing to look at him. “I can only sleep if I feel safe, and there’s only one person I ever felt that way with— Mantis. But. . . now I think that includes you, too.”

Adam couldn’t help the bright smile that formed on his face at your words, the thought that you felt safe with him (especially after everything that he’d done to you and your friends) meant more than he could say. The thought that you would willingly be vulnerable in his presence made his stomach feel enjoyably— and inexplicably— nauseous. “I feel safe around you too,” he replied without hesitation. “And. . . I wouldn’t mind trying it.”

--

Not long after, the two of you returned to the room you were renting in the dorm-style building. Since neither you nor Adam had family to speak of (and were also short on funds), you’d both found rooms in a tenant building that had lots of other people, many of whom had lost their homes during the Guardians’ most recent adventures. Luckily you’d gotten a room to yourself, though you had to share basic facilities with everyone else.

“You can sleep in the bed since this was my idea,” you offered. You were still in what you considered your pajamas, so you just had to gather some spare blankets and pillows.

Adam shook his head, against the thought of you making accommodations for him. “I can sleep on the floor. You shouldn’t have to give up your bed.”

“It’s not like I use it much anyway,” you joke, pulling the covers back. “But if you’re seriously against me sleeping on the floor, I guess we could. . . share?”

He seemed not to mind your proposal as he agreed readily, and after taking off his shoes, he made to get in when you spoke again with a confused look on your face. “You. . . sleep in your clothes? No wonder why you can’t get comfortable!”

Adam seemed to not understand your comment. “You sleep in your clothes.”

You laughed a little at his observation. “These are sleep clothes, not everyday clothes. At least take off your jacket,” you reasoned.

But as he did so, you realized why he hadn’t gotten more comfortable: there was nothing except chiseled chest under his clothes. You blushed and tried (but failed) not to stare as he got into bed next to you, admiring the way his muscles flexed with his movement. Luckily he seemed to not notice your attention as he settled next to you. There was a sizeable gap between you two despite the bed not being very big, one that you wished you had the guts to close. (Wait— again, what?)

You wondered how you’d ever get to sleep with all that muscle right behind you (okay, this one you could admit freely), but somehow, in the quiet stillness of your dark room, the safe, peaceful feeling lulled you into the first restful slumber that you’d had since your siblings had left months ago.

--

And if you woke up the next morning, curled up against Adam’s chest with his arm wrapped around you protectively, neither of you bothered to say anything about it.

[aeroblossom]

okay i found what i think is the most peculiar mystery in dragonspine so far

Or: khaenriah wasn't after the celestial nail or its powers, it was after STARSILVER.

tumblr i NEED to share this with you because it's blowing my mind. recently me and my friend were discussing this star shard you can find in a quest from 5.0 natlan.

this is a meteor according to the quest and context clues. it looked like iron, so we were trying to find out what kind of metal it most closely resembles, and then -

these are iron meteorites. i'm sure you can see the pattern matches almost perfectly. the patterns form due to cooling in the vacuum of space. you'll notice that the grass around the meteor in the original image is white. nowhere else, to my knowledge, in natlan is there white grass, which implies this is an effect of the star shard itself. and if this is related to the cold...

...you know what other material forms in the cold?

starsilver. the two looked similar, so we checked, and what do you know

(left: star shard [quest item], right: starsilver)

starsilver's description says it forms in very specific conditions like those found in dragonspine. what are the conditions of dragonspine? cold. extremely, extremely cold.

but if these two are the same material... you know what else that implies?

starsilver is extraterrestrial. and i think that point is compounded by the fact that albedo makes paint out of it. albedo. additionally, a high quality node of starsilver looks like this:

pink and blue-y. like glazed sand crystal, also formed due to meteorite impact in the chasm... but my main reason for bringing this up is because these two have a very particular color scheme - pink and blue, the colors of the primordial sea.

in the fontaine waters, the fontemer aberrants (the translucent versions of sea creatures that give you their abilities), which also share this color scheme, are described as 'xenochromatic'. taken literally, the word means 'alien colored'. this seems to be a reference to hp lovecraft's book, 'the color out of space', where strange water droplets found INSIDE A METEORITE, have a color that have never been seen by anyone before.

and albedo uses these to make paint. he uses alien rocks to make alien colors.

now, we've established that starsilver cannot be generated within dragonspine. until we come up with a reason why, there's no logical explanation for starsilver to exist in dragonspine. a foreign metal cannot be synthesized somewhere it has never been before, even assuming the conditions were right. dragonspine has, to our knowledge, never had any abyssal encounters or floods, so the introduction of otherworldly materials makes no sense. you can't create the real life equivalent of these meteorites on earth because the conditions are impossible to replicate. dragonspine cannot logically be that cold either because it still has flora native to its environment.

on that note,

we are often told that the celestial nail is the reason for dragonspine's disaster. but as stated, dragonspine has no history of abyssal floods, so using a nail there... doesn't it seem wasteful? unnecessary even? you might say it was because of their transgressions, but if that was the case, shouldn't us removing the nail fix the issue?

but all it did was remove one small snowstorm at the peak.

unless, that is what they want us to believe. they want us to believe that celestia did this. genshin is full of unreliable narrators. a meteorite crashing into the mountain would be no less of a leyline disaster than an abyss attack - which is what the nails are equipped to deal with. side note: i don't believe starsilver exists because of durin. durin's blood has the opposite trait of starsilver - it gives you warmth, while starsilver is facilitated by cold.

the strangest part about all this though, starsilver seems to be produced from the very depths of dragonspine. so if anything, the hypothetical meteor that gives rise to starsilver must be present at its very base. how did it get there? i have no idea.

anyway, let's say this is all correct. celestia didn't cause the leyline destruction, the meteor did. one final detail remains. khaenriah.

the final nail in the coffin, if you will, that leads me to believe starsilver and the star shard are the same, and that they're from outer space - is the famous ruin guard message.

For the nation, we can't forgo this skyborne power, but we failed.

what if this skyborne power is not from the celestial nail that fell...

but from starsilver? because if starsilver is an alien object, don't you think, as of perinheri, the empire most known for dealing with outer space entities, would want to harness the power of these meteorites?

[p.s.: and also, in the legend of the shattered halberd, they used an iron meteorite to make weapons. not farfetched for khaenriah.]

[genghisthebrain]

Wednesday Addams and Enid Sinclair - House Rules (as imagined by me)

WELCOME TO THE ADDAMS-SINCLAIR MANOR (APARTMENT 3B.) PLEASE READ.

1) Our doorbell does not work. If you want to enter, you have to yell “HOMOSEXUALS” very loudly and we will admit you at our leisure.

2) No fires. Or perhaps we should reword that and say no more fires, due to the multiple infringements that rule already has. Looking at you, Yoko.

3) If you’re not a Nevermore friend, a family member - NOT Enid’s, please - or someone we’ve paid to bring us food, please leave us alone. Write a note, send a text. We don't need to talk in person.

4) If anyone complains about Enid’s housewide playlist, they will be removed. In other words: Enid Sinclair is a musical genius and you should trust everything she says ever.

5) The following list of people are banned until they meet the outlined terms:

Esther Sinclair and Murray Sinclair = Forever, we simply don’t like you. We make the rules. Sue us.

Tyler Galpin = until he returns my eyeliner. Stop stealing it, you dick.

Yoko Tanaka = until she hands over any incendiaries or potential fire hazards of any kind on her person. No more, Yoko.

6) The same applies for anyone who thinks chocolate milk comes from brown cows, that the earth is flat or that Lady Gaga is not a goddess incarnate. You’re all idiots and we simply don’t have the time for idiots.

7) If you’re a door to door salesman, we don’t want it. Stop selling things. Take your vacuum cleaners and double glazed windows somewhere else. Like Xavier’s house. If you yell ‘XAVIER’S ADDRESS’ at the door, we will give you directions. And no, it’s not secure, but neither are we, so to hell with it all.

8) The one exception to this door to door salesman rule is if you are selling piano music. Enid is teaching Wednesday how to play, and Wednesday refuses to learn anything but music sold by, and I quote, ‘shady salesmen who are potentially also criminals.’ So it's the lucky day for you criminal salesmen. Bring your shit.

9) Finally, please sign the piece of paper. We’ve started a petition to persuade Bianca to ask Yoko out on a date. We need signatures. Please, join the cause. 

10) If you have any issues with these rules, please feel free to give any queries or criticism to the complaints team (your nearest bonfire.)

Thank you for your time.

[storiesaplenty]

Jelly Bracelets (13) (18+)

Eddie Munson x f/Reader

Jelly Bracelets Masterlist

This has not been proofread. Please enjoy, though.

Warnings: swearing. Oral (m and f receiving) 69 position. Pussy fingering. Clit sucking. Ball playing. Cum swallowing.

Gifs & photos do not belong to me: 1st gif @depressedbagpipe

WC: 1342

©️ storiesaplenty 2024: Do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

Glittery Green - the wearer is willing to "69"

Eddie Munson may be the freak of Hawkins, but he is your best friend. Who is always willing to teach you new things, even when you get new bracelets from your cousin. Eddie will even go as far as teaching & showing you what each one means.

Eddie Munson's Pov:

I actually cleaned up the place.

I mean, a proper cleaning.

Scrubbing down the counters, moving the cushions from the sofa and vacuuming there.

Even changing my bed sheets and pillow cases.

I have no idea what is going to happen tonight, as she still has three bracelets left.

I gulped just thinking about what is left, and if she will even do the one I am keeping for last.

My thoughts were pulled by the knock on the door.

She is early.

Fuck.

Of course she is.

If she is on time, she considers that late.

I opened the door and to my suprise, there was Henderson.

"Don't have time for you tonight." I told him.

"Come on man, let's go out. I know you haven't been out a bit." He held up a $20.00 bill, and I was about to ask him where he got that much, but I could see her car turning into the park.

"Get out of here. I have plans." I shooed him away towards Max's trailer.

"Why are you trying to get rid of me so bad?" He asked me, confused, until he heard the sound of the car door closing shut.

He turned his head and saw who it was, then looking back at me, one eyebrow raised.

"I see. Have a good night with your girlfriend." The little shit smirked as he walked back to Max's place.

I noticed that he wasn't the only one there with her, and I was going to call out and say she isn't my girlfriend, when she is now standing in front of me.

"Hey Eddie." She said to me with a soft smile on her face.

"You look good sweetheart." I looked her up and down. Her hair was down, with a bit of makeup on.

Her hands smoothed down her skirt, and she was wearing a Hellfire Club shirt.

One of my spare ones that I gave her.

"You going to let me in?" She asked as I am blocking the door.

I scoffed and stepped to the side, bowing to her dramatically as she walked past, me catching a wiff of her perfume.

I closed the door behind her, not even to bother to look back at the teens that were watching the two of us.

Already knowing that Henderson has a smirk on his face.

"Did you clean?" She asked as she looked around.

"Yeah, I time to spare." I said, acting like I wasn't nervous inside.

"Eddie, it is just me." She said to me as she looked at me.

"And that is why I cleaned." I told her as she took the few steps towards me, placing her hand on my chest.

I couldn't help myself as I placed my hand at the nape of her neck and leaned down to kiss her, gently.

This didn't feel rushed as I deepened the kiss, her arms wrapping around my neck to bring us even closer.

The two of us standing there, making out in the kitchen of the trailer.

My hands left her neck and started to trail down her body, until my hands were cupping her ass, pulling her lower body closer to mine, making her gasp at how hard I am for her.

Only for her.

"You see what you do to me? Always have." I muttered against her lips, but I don't think she heard me, as when I pulled my head back, her eyes were already but glazed.

"Want you Eddie." She whined.

I ran my thumb across her cheek and then placed it on her bottom lip.

She wrapped her lips around my thumb and started to suck, making my cock twitch in my jeans.

Instant flashes of her sucking my cock came to mind, and I groaned at the thought of her sucking me off again.

"You will have me sweet girl, but for now, why don't we help one another out in a different way."

My other hand snapped the lone bracelet on her right arm, as the other two are on the left.

I held it up for her to see.

Glittery Green, 69.

She let go of my thumb with a pop.

"I have never done that before. Eddie."

"Neither have I. We can learn together."

I grabbed her hand and gently pulled her down the hall towards my room, already knowing that this is one step closer to us actually sleeping with one another.

◆

Her and I slowly took off eachother clothes, our lips barely leaving one another unless we had too.

I laid on my bed, my back flat against the mattress.

I grabbed her hand and helped her climb over me, her head facing my feet.

She is hovering over me, as I grabbed her hips.

"Sit on my face. I won't die." Was all I said before I pulled her hips down, and gently licked her pussy up and down, making her gasp out my name.

She placed her hands on my thighs as she leaned down to take my cock in her mouth.

I groaned against her pussy, as she took more of me into her mouth.

"That's it baby. Just like that. Damn." I groaned against her as I placed two fingers on her pussy, and spread it, burying my face even closer in her pussy.

I couldn't help myself as I raised my hips, forcing another inch or two down her throat, making her gag around my cock.

I inserted one finger, then another one, all the while still eating her out.

She ground her hips against my fingers and face, clearly enjoying what I am doing to her.

Her hand was at the base of my cock, twisting and jerking me off every single time she slowly brought her mouth up.

She is making me lose my mind as I have dreamt about this more times that I will ever admit.

"Eddie." She pulled her mouth away from my cock, her hand still jerking me off.

"Tell me what you need." I said, as I wrapped my lips around her clit, and sucked.

She let out a long drawn out moan at that.

"Add another." She finally said.

"Oh you want another. I got you." I inserted another finger, groaning against her pussy at how tight she felt wrapped around my three fingers as I fingered her and ate her out.

My cock is back down her throat, and I knew I was going to last much longer.

I sped up my fingers and wrapped my lips around her clit one final time, and sucked, hard.

She moaned around my cock as she ground her pussy against my mouth as her juices soaked my face.

I am loving every single second of this, and then her hand cupped my balls and pulled on them gently, and I couldn't hold back anymore.

I groaned, loudly as I came.

Her mouth wrapped around the tip as she swallowed quickly.

Her other hand was jerking me off, trying to get every last drop of me.

"Fuck." I groaned as I pulled my mouth from her pussy, leisurely fingering her still as she pulled her mouth away and her hands.

She pulled away from me, and I couldn't help but look her up and down once again, this time taking in her naked body.

"Eddie..." Her voice trailed off.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"Kind of hungry." I snorted when she said that, already knowing she hasn't ate since this afternoon.

"I'll make us some spaghetti." I said to her, already feeling hungry as well.

She got dressed before me, and I was sitting on the side of my bed, just pulling on my jeans when she spoke up.

"Eddie. I will be staying the night."

I looked up at her, and she was staring intently back at me. I caught on to what she was meaning.

"If you are sure." I said.

"I have never been more sure about anything."

"Okay sweetheart. Let's get you fed." I teased.

♣︎

Red (18+) ♥︎ Black (18+)

[hannahbarberra162]

Not My Monkey, Chapter 2

on Ao3

Link to Chapter 1

Dining with the Strawhats is just as you would expect.

The song the Reader hums and sings with Sanji is this ad: https://youtu.be/FbQt8pYUY6Q?si=qtAVuaC_wUggmSQd

~~~

You tore your gaze from Blue Maui to glance at the rest of the crew. Luffy was sitting and pounding his fists on the table, chanting for meat. Robin was sitting next to the android and chatting, with her hand on his oversized forearm. The green swordsman was slouching with his arms crossed next to a tiny…deer. Who was talking to a giant skeleton with an afro. Alright. Nami sat next to you and Usopp, with Sanji coming from the kitchen with a serving platter. A strange group of people, but hey, you were dead so it’s not like you could talk. 

Sanji served you first, even before the Captain, which surprised you. “A vegetarian meal for our dearest Reader,” Sanji said. He looked anxious and he was hovering over you. He clearly wanted you to try the food in front of him and give him a review. He gave you glazed carrots, a spring style salad, and a bean and mushroom stew served over rice. 

He didn’t need to be nervous, it all looked incredible. You weren’t the main cook in your previous relationship, that had been mostly done by your partner. You were satisfied eating the same boring things over and over daily, which you’d done for the past few years. You picked up your fork and sampled the glazed carrots. It was unbelievable, the carrots practically melting on your tongue. Your taste buds were singing, you didn’t think carrots could be so rich. You sampled each item he’d prepared while he flitted back and forth, serving the rest of the crew, starting with the women. 

“Sanji, this is outstanding! I’ve never eaten anything like this before, you’re such a talented chef.” The carrots, the stew, the salad, everything tasted like it had been made by a French chef. Sanji beamed at you.

“I apologize, we are running low on supplies right now. At the next island, I’ll buy more vegetables. Most of the crew prefers a more meat heavy diet.” This was him running low on supplies? You couldn’t wait to see what he whipped up with a fully stocked kitchen.

“MEAT! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!…” Luffy continued to chant over Sanji speaking to you.

“LUFFY, SHUT UP! I’m speaking to our lovely Reader,” Sanji sighed and went to fetch food for Luffy. Once the food was placed in front of him, Luffy was like a vacuum. You made a mental note to keep your hands and feet away from his mouth during meal time. He reminded you of that game, Kirby, where the little pink guy would literally inhale food. Or a dog with food aggression. Luffy was using both hands, double fisting the meat and eating as rapidly as humanly possible. 

“Would you like to introduce our new Reader, Luffy?” Robin asked politely.

“Oh yeah, this is Misty,” Luffy said while chewing, gesturing to you with one meat skewer. It took everything in you not to chide him for speaking with his mouth full. Who raised this kid? 

“Actually, her name is also Robin, but we are calling her Misty to avoid confusion,” Robin clarified. “She is our new Reader, but she does not know any information about our world, including who we are. It's a fresh start for all of us, so let’s go around and introduce ourselves. Appropriately. ” Robin gave a look to the android and skeleton, emphasizing the last word.

“She’s obviously lying,” interjected the green haired swordsman.

“No, I’m not, I really -” you started to argue with him but were interrupted by Sanji, who already had his foot on the swordsman's shoulder. 

“How dare you accuse our newest, sweetest Mellorine of lying?!” He was in the green guy’s face on your behalf, it looked like they might fight again. 

“Thank you, Sanji, but I understand his hesitation. But I promise, I really don’t know anything about this world. I haven’t even been to the sea before. I guess that’s one thing off my bucket list.” Well, you’d already kicked the bucket so you weren’t sure that it counted. 

“Whaddya mean? Never been to the sea?” asked Luffy, still chewing with his mouth open. You shrugged.

“I mean, I’ve been in lakes and rivers and pools and things like that. I always wanted to visit the ocean before I died. Where I lived, the ocean was really far away. It was always a little too expensive to go so I never did.” It made you sad to think you'd spend nearly your whole life working and for what? You didn't get to the Pacific, you didn't travel to Fiji, you didn't get to do a lot of things you'd wanted before you apparently died.

“We’ve heard about their world before, others have shared similar sentiments. To Zoro’s point, I do not believe she is lying. I’ve been monitoring her interactions and she does not seem to know any prior information.” Robin had been watching you? You hadn’t seen her following you around. But at least she was corroborating that you weren’t lying. So the green haired guy was Zoro. He still hadn’t introduced himself.

“I’m Franky, the shipwright. It’s SUUUUUPER nice to meet you.” He had exquisite blue hair shaped like a sailing ship. Maybe wild hair colors were natural in this world. You hoped so, you absolutely loved it.

“I like your hairstyle,” you complimented. 

“Thanks, sis,” Franky responded, making a finger gun and running his hand along the side of his hair. It was clearly a source of pride for him, as was only right for such a good style. Next, the skeleton put down his cup of tea.

“I’m Brook, the Soul King. I'm the musician on the crew and I’d love to see -” Nami bonked him over the head before he could finish his sentence. Hard.

“Don’t you dare! Robin just asked everyone to behave!” She was quick, that was for sure. And based on his reaction, fairly strong.

“-your panties,” he finished despite the bonk. 

“No. Don’t ask again,” you replied. Ew. But also he was a nine foot tall skeleton, so his sense of decorum might have been off. He had kind of a Hendrix / Slash vibe going on, complete with afro. You really should commend whoever made this world, the hair here was fantastic.

The little deer put down his milk and said in a serious tone, “I’m Chopper, the ship’s doctor.” It would have been more impressive if he didn’t have a milk mustache when he told you this. Talking skeleton, talking deer, rubber people, dead people, this ship was like a haunted house mixed with Disneyland. At least your life was ending with a bang. “I can help you if you have a headache from the timespace travel, it’s happened to a few of our readers.” 

After thanking Chopper, the last of the group, Blue Maui, introduced himself as well. “I am Jinbe, the ship’s helmsman. It is a pleasure to meet you,” he said, giving you a bow. Your heart and face warmed. You knew it didn’t mean anything - it was basically the same introduction everyone else had given you as well. But coming from someone as good looking as Jinbe, you couldn’t help it. What, were you 12 again?

“Pleased to meet you as well,” you replied smiling. Luffy interrupted your very brief conversation with his mouth full.

“So if you’re shipwrecked on an island, and there were only animals there,” Luffy began as you inwardly groaned, already knowing where this was going, “would you eat one to survive?”

You laughed. “You know what’s funny? I die and come to this world only to be asked the same questions as the last one. I would. But it’s not something I worry about.”

“So who’s your favorite?” Luffy continued, beaming at you.

You weren’t sure exactly what he was asking. “My favorite what?”

“Your favorite Strawhat!” Luffy smiled, but you saw Sanji and Usopp tense slightly.

“Luffy, she doesn’t know us. She doesn't have a favorite like our previous readers,” Robin interrupted her Captain. “I do not know if she is even aware we are the Strawhat Pirates.”

Luffy shoved more meat into his mouth before replying, “oh, right. Well, we’re the Strawhats. Cus of my hat. And your favorites probably gonna be me. Or Zoro. Or Nami. That’s who everyone says.” Luffy grinned widely. You didn’t reply but it seemed kind of rude to pick favorites in front of the other crew members. 

“You’re not always everyone’s favorite!” interjected Usopp, the conversation hitting a nerve.

“I am! It’s my show! I’m the antagonist-” Luffy yelled back.

“Protagonist,” corrected Robin, now sipping on some tea.

“This isn’t a show, it's just life!” continued Usopp. “You’re not the main character, that’s not how it works.” Luffy pouted but kept eating.

“Let’s get a round going for the new reader!” exclaimed Nami, trying to change the subject. 

“Brilliant idea Nami-swan! Dearest Misty, what would you prefer to drink? We have some sake, wine, and ale. You are our guest, you choose first. ” Sanji came to your side immediately, like a waiter on demand.

“Oh, I don’t drink,” you replied, “but it doesn’t bother me if anyone else does.” Zoro (who still hadn’t introduced himself) snorted.

“What kinda life is that? No meat, no booze. What’s the fuckin’ point?” he scoffed. 

You laughed lightly. “I would have said the same when I was 20. Just not my style anymore.” 

“So go get the booze shitcook, she said we can drink,” Zoro turned to Sanji, already ignoring you. You could see Sanji puffing up for a fight already.

“If she’s not drinking, you’re not drinking either, you stupid mossbrain! You don’t get shit anyway for insulting her!” They were already in each other’s faces. No one else had paused their side conversations to listen or watch. You wondered how many times a day this happened. Zoro and Sanji went back and forth, though you noticed Zoro didn’t stop eating his food and Sanji didn’t put down his tray. Everyone else had returned to their side conversations, ignoring the two men completely. The crew seemed cohesive, like everyone was on good terms with each other. Even Zoro and Sanji's fighting wasn't disturbing the overall vibe of the dinner. It was loud, animated, chaotic, and reminded you of Sunday night dinners with your own family. You enjoyed it for a few minutes, eating your meal and watching the dynamics of the crew. 

Everyone was wrapping up their meals and finishing their food. Usopp and Nami got up to leave, but left their dirty plates on the table. “ Excuse me, take your plates to the sink. No one’s coming behind to pick up after you,” you snapped at them. The room went silent as they stared at you. Oops. Having several bad roommates and coworkers over many years had left a few ingrained habits. “Uh, sorry, didn’t mean that. Just tell me where I can put my plate.”

“Leave it on the table, Twirlybrow cleans up,” replied Zoro.

“Why? Didn’t he cook the food?” you asked, confused. It was basically a sin where you grew up to leave your plate on the table, much less for the cook. Didn’t they rotate the cleaning?

“So? He likes it,” Zoro was being petulant, probably because of whatever he had going on with the cook. 

“Again, sorry, I didn't mean to overstep. It’s just that where I’m from, if you cook, you don’t clean. That’s always how it is. But, not my circus,” you said, putting your hands up in apology. You didn’t mean to offend, but the man had just cooked a multi course meal for eleven, plated and served it. Surely he didn’t have to clean up everything by himself too. It felt unfair, but it wasn’t your place to change the way things were.

“Whassat mean? Not my circus?” Luffy asked, finally full of food. His belly was stretched comically large, seemed like being made of rubber had its benefits.

“Oh, it’s a common saying. ‘Not my circus, not my monkeys.’ Meaning, it isn’t my place to say anything. You know like, not my problem, not my business.” Luffy smiled at you.

“I am your monkey! Monkey D. Luffy! Thanks Sanji!” With that, Luffy got up and took his plate, putting it into the sink. Usopp and Nami did the same, bringing their plates with them after watching their Captain. One by one, the crew thanked Sanji and brought their plates to the sink until it was just you and Sanji left. You still had a lot of food on your plate and you weren’t done eating yet. 

“Sorry, I’ve always been a slow eater, especially when I’m in a group or talking with other people. I can finish this later.” You felt bad stopping him from beginning on the overwhelming amount of dishes he was going to have to do. 

“No, no. Please. Enjoy at your leisure mon cherie. It’s nice to see someone who doesn’t just shove everything down their throat.” Sanji was a little off, he wasn’t saying anything cringy or chivalrous in your honor, just clearing off the table.

“Sorry that I butted in. I didn’t mean to disrupt the way things are here,” you offered. 

“No, I - I appreciate the sentiment.” Sanji said, back turned to you.

“I can help you clear the table if you wish, or wash some dishes. I can’t fight and don’t have super-powers like everyone else but I definitely know my way around dish soap,” you tried for a light hearted approach. “My mom really drilled into us that whoever cooks doesn’t clean. It’s hard for me to watch you and not help, especially after you just cooked such an incredible meal.” Sanji smiled at you, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

“It is no burden on me, mon coeur. Please, eat. You are a guest on the ship, and a lady besides.” You dropped it as the chef began cleaning again, clearing the table of serving platters and pitchers, bringing them to be washed. You watched him as you ate, asking him about the preparation of the dishes you were eating. Once you got him talking about food, he dropped a lot of the chivalrous talk and spoke passionately about his love of food and drink. He was calm and patient, answering all your questions. It was obvious he excelled in his field, both from your empty plate and the amount of knowledge he had. Once you were done, you stacked your silverware, cup and plate and brought them to the sink. Sanji was elbow deep in dishes, and he would be for a while. 

“C’mon, let me help you. This is gonna take you hours to do alone.” 

“Ladies shouldn’t have to life a finger -” Sanji began.

You cut him off. “I don’t have to, I want to. It would…make me happy?” You ended the sentence on a higher register. You figured that if he was really a chivalrous guy, he would take your wants and desires into consideration. 

Sanji blinked up at you with his one visible eye, surprise registering before it was hidden. “It would make you happy? But you only have precious little time left, you want to spend it washing dishes?” What was this guy’s deal? Did no one ever help him before? You’d never fought so hard to wash dishes in your life.

“Well, I want to spend every day eating more of your scrumptious food. Which means that the utensils, pots, pans, bowls, everything has to be washed and cleaned, right? Kind of goes hand in hand.” 

“Alright, just this once mon mie. If it would make you happy.”

“It would,” you replied firmly. With that, he moved over, giving you some space at the sink. You’d had a dishwasher at your house for years, but growing up everything was washed by hand. You had countless hours of experience doing the dishes, and there weren’t any differences between your world and this one on how to scrub a dirty fork. You and the chef fell into an amicable silence, working side by side.

Something you hadn’t anticipated was that there was no background noise on the ship. Sure, there were the sounds of the waves, of some sea birds, of the crew on board. But for the past few years you’d gotten used to always having something on to provide white noise - the television or YouTube mostly. You were used to passively listening to music or long form videos while you cooked, cleaned, did laundry, any basic repetitive task. So standing quietly next to the cook made your mind wander to music. 

Obviously, you didn’t have access to your music from home. You tried to think of songs to sing in your head to keep yourself busy. But, as it turned out, you didn’t know the complete lyrics to all that many songs, even though you listened to music constantly. You could remember bits and pieces, or remember the tune, but there weren’t that many songs you could sing from beginning to end. It seemed like the only songs you could remember the lyrics to were either Top 40s hit ending in 2012, songs from your childhood, or songs from the Disney movies your nieces liked. You were deep in your mind, trying to conjure up some songs to sing to, when the cook asked you what you were humming.

“Beg your pardon?” you hadn’t realized you were humming out loud.

“Oh, I was just wondering what song you were humming. I haven’t heard that one before. It’s always entertaining to learn new songs from Readers.”

“Ah. Sorry. Um, it’s nothing, just a commercial jingle, I’m sorry. I’ll stop,” you turned a little red. 

“No, no. I liked it a lot. Does it have lyrics?”

And so you taught Sanji the words to 877-CASHNOW. By the time the two of you were finishing the dishes, you were calling and responding to one another with gusto. It was quite fun, and you were glad the young chef was humoring you. When the last dish was dry, you patted him on the arm. 

“Thanks for indulging me, Sanji. You have quite a pleasant singing voice. We’ll do it again soon.” He didn’t know you’d be helping him a lot on dish duty. You’d tell him later, you had a feeling he was going to fight you on it. But you wanted to be useful, and it had actually been a fun way to pass the time. 

“The pleasure is all mine,  mon cherie. I’m done much earlier than I usually am, for which I have you to thank.” Sanji lit up a cigarette. You’d seen him smoking earlier, but not during dinner service. But you didn’t know any chefs who didn’t smoke, so you weren’t going to give him grief over it.

“Thank you for dinner, Sanji.” You patted his head like a little boy and left the galley. Outside the crew was relaxing and enjoying the cool evening air together.

“What’s a structured settlement?” Luffy yelled across the deck. You laughed.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you could hear us. I’ll keep it down next time.” You hoped your singing wasn’t too off key.

“Why do you do that?” Luffy asked, walking towards you while picking his nose.

“Sing? I’ve always liked it. I’m not good by any means, but it’s fun -”

“No, apologize all the time. You’re always saying sorry but you don’t do anything you need to apologize for.” 

You fidgeted, rubbing the tips of your fingers together. “Oh, sorry, bad habit, I guess. I’ll try to stop.” Luffy flicked a booger onto the deck and sat down cross legged without washing his hands. Gross.

“You don’t need to be sorry for being here. We want you here.” Luffy said, his hands resting on his feet. For being a gross teenager, he was perceptive. You did worry a little about being a burden on the crew, even if it was only for a short while. You had always been a people pleaser, even when you were a child. It had gotten better for a little while in adulthood, but recently you’d fallen back into old habits. You didn’t like relying on other people without providing anything in exchange. Maybe that’s why you fought Sanji so hard on washing the dishes. It wasn’t like it was a chore you loved doing, it was something you knew you could do. You’d think about what Luffy said more.

“Thank you, Luffy. That’s kind of you to say.” You almost patted his head too, but you remembered the boogers. Maybe after he bathed. You noticed Nami had come up, waiting for you to finish your conversation with Luffy.

“Come on, I’ll give you a tour of the ship,” she said. “We can pop by the living quarters too, Robin’s set something up for you.” You agreed, following the orange haired woman. 

“So, the ship’s called the ‘Going Sunny,’ it’s like the ‘Going Merry’ and ‘1,000 Sunny’ mixed together. I don’t know how Franky did it, but he took the Merry and combined it with the Sunny and this is what we ended up with. A Reader once gave us a good drawing of the 1,000 Sunny and Franky used the best parts of both ships." You didn’t know what she was talking about but you nodded anyway. She took you around the ship, starting with the top deck and working your way down to the bottom. It was an incredible ship - there was a tangerine grove, the head of a ram on the keel, a huge fish tank, a spa level bathing area, even a library. You had never seen anything like it. Finishing with the crew quarters, Nami showed you where you would be sleeping. It was a small cot between her bed and Robin’s. Nothing fancy, but you hoped you wouldn’t need to use it too much. You only had three weeks left to live, and you wanted to make the most of it. 

[immeasurablesaladagere]

Hi salad! Can i please request an impure regression fic about little!Wilson going nonverbal 🙏🙏

Here you are! I'm almost to the bottom of my request stack, yay! It's late when I'm posting so sorry if I've glazed over any mistakes, I'm sure I'll catch them tomorrow and facepalm lol

-----

Word Count: 1003

Summery: Wilson has been quiet since they got home. House goes to find out what's up and finds him regressed in his room.

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If he was being honest, House hadn’t noticed the absence of Wilson’s usual milling around the apartment until his stomach started growling. Ever the motivated housewife, Wilson was always meal-prepping and tidying, and if they had a kid, he would be hovering over them and permanently messing with their sense of independence as all good mothers. He was also usually the one who started dinner after they got home, but now it was nearing eight-thirty and the only thing he’d heard from Wilson was quiet footsteps to the bathroom and back over an hour ago. How very un-Wilson of him.

He grunted as he pushed himself off of the couch and hobbled down the hall to Wilson’s room. 

“You better not be jerking off in here, because I’m coming in!” He announced, before unceremoniously opening the door and walking in. It wasn’t like he cared all too much about privacy, but he wasn’t exactly looking to be flashed on a Friday night; at least, not by Wilson.

There was nothing scandalous going on in Wilson’s room; nor was he sleeping, which was his second guess. Instead, he found Wilson curled up on his side, on top of the covers in a baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants, gripping his teddy bear against his chin. He looked up at House with round, tired eyes, but didn’t say anything.

He fished his bottle of Vicodin out of his pocket and popped a couple of pills. So he was regressed, then. He could probably deal with that.

He still wasn’t entirely used to the whole “caregiving” thing, but he had yet to catastrophically fail and traumatize Wilson’s three-year-old self, so he was tentatively confident as he sat down on the bed by his feet. 

“So… What’s going on here?” He motioned to Wilson’s generally sad, floppy-ness. Now that he was closer it was obvious that he had been crying at some point, his eyes were bloodshot and it looked like someone had vacuumed the soul out of him.

Wilson didn’t respond, which seemed to be a trend with him. Of the few times he had been regressed around House, he had only spoken more than a few words consistently once. Wilson had explained to him that while he technically could speak, it took too much energy and he usually decided not to. He wished adults worked like that, he would go home every day with so many less migraines.

“O-kay… Do you need me to do anything, or are you good to just… be sad?” Wilson seemed to have himself handled, but he figured he should do his due-diligence, just in case.

Wilson looked around the room for a second, thinking, before slowly raising a hand and doing what House recognized as the baby-sign for ‘food’.

“Hungry? Me too. I guess you want me to make you something?” He asked, and Wilson looked away and scrunched up more. “Relax, it was an offer. I’ll see what I can scavenge from the cupboard.” He got up and made his way to the kitchen, and after a minute he heard Wilson climb out of bed and follow him.

Wilson dropped into one of the dining room chairs and watched him intently as he rummaged through the cabinets for something quick and kid-friendly. He pulled out a box of Kraft Mac n’ Cheese. Kids liked this stuff, right? 

“Will you eat this?” He asked, and Wilson nodded mutely. “Perfect.”

He dumped the pasta into a pot of water and began to heat it over the stove, watching as the water turned a murky, starch-filled beige. He remembered seeing these boxes in the store when he shopped with his mother as a kid. She always refused to buy them because “those are just chemicals”, and she was probably right, but he still smirked to himself at the idea of getting to stick it to her after all these years.

Once the pasta had cooked, he strained it and dumped in the neon-orange cheese powder, a spoonful of butter, and some milk. After a quick stir, he had a pot of edible-looking yellow macaroni. It didn’t smell like chemicals. He poured some into two bowls and gave one to Wilson before joining him at the table. Maybe it was the kind that killed you slowly. He could live with that.

Wilson ate his portion far too quickly for the quality of the product, but he supposed he was mentally a toddler. It was okay, all things considered. They sat in silence as House picked away at the pasta and Wilson fiddled with the paws of his bear absently. He was staring off at nothing, and House could see that whatever had upset him earlier was still bothering him.

Eventually he decided to bite the bullet. “Do you want to talk about it? Or— sign or something?”

Wilson firmly shook his head no.

He shrugged. “Okay.” He took both of their dishes to the sink and left them at the bottom for Wilson to clean up tomorrow. “I think it’s time for bed now, hm?”

There was no resistance on Wilson’s part, which wasn’t surprising. He looked so exhausted it was almost unsettling, and easily allowed himself to be led back to bed.

“And this time, we get under the covers. It’s a great invention, I know.” He pulled the covers up over Wilson’s shoulders, and once he looked settled, turned to go back to the living room.

But the second he pulled his hand away, Wilson let out the most pathetic kicked-puppy sound he could possibly muster. With a sigh House sat down on the edge of the bed and put his hand back, and immediately the fussing stopped. He chuckled, “Oh you are needy.” 

With nothing better to do, he began gently rubbing up and down Wilson’s back until his breaths evened out and he was asleep, snuggling his bear. House couldn’t help but smile slightly. He really did look like a little kid. 

“Goodnight, Jimmy.”

[suzukiblu]

ooo this is a fun wip wednesday! I'd say Core Four and Kon's objectification kink is Closer by Nine Inch Nails

Kon’s not actually breathing, Cassie realizes, which would be concerning coming from anyone who couldn’t survive the vacuum of space without oxygen. Coming from Kon, with him still not having tapped out, well . . . 

Toys don’t breathe either, now do they. 

“Show me its face,” she says just a little bit more roughly than she means to, and Bart sighs but drags Kon’s head up by the hair. Kon doesn’t resist it; doesn’t move with it either. He just lets Bart put him where he wants him while Cassie and Tim both use him. 

“What for?” Bart asks like Kon isn’t the most gorgeous mess he’s ever been, all messed-up and well-fucked with his face all flushed and filthy and his eyes glazed. He looks like they’ve been at him all night. 

Fuck, Cassie thinks past the heady rush of heat in her gut.

[ghoultrifle]

what are some of the most notable things ant would stick his dick in?

oh my dear jesus the list is so long it wouldn't even fit in tumblr's 4 million character limit jhaskjldf have some highlights !!

doughnut (obviously) (he thought the glaze was cum so when he had an unglazed one he tried to fix it himself)

vacuum cleaner (classic)

mountain's garden (watched saltburn and got ideas)

peanut butter jar (inspired by @everybodyshusband affectionately telling me it's a good thing i don't have a dick because it would end up getting stuck in peanut butter jars on the daily)

the weird hole in the back of the sofa (it was already wet ???)

cannelloni (he's got a skinny dick, okay ?)

everyone else's fleshlights (he refuses to buy his own)

one of cumulus' scrunchies (it smelled of her)

wrapping paper tube (this one was a fail, he's not that skinny)

aether.