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basu-shokikita · 7 months

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Kloktober 2023 Day 14

Use a fall food or drink

It's not fall where I live so I had to research a little for this prompt! Today's combo is Toki and Pickles because I find their interactions really funny for some reason. Like you can really tell there's a big age gap between them. And they're two of my fave characters, so

Shoutout to @the-loveliest-lotus as well because I also got inspired by this Kloktober drabble! <3

Wiping the sweat off his forehead, Pickles looked proudly at his hard work. Five different drinks were lined neatly on the kitchen counter: Poison Apple Martini, the Grave Digger, the Black Widow Smash, Sleepy Hollow Cocktail and Nightmare on Bourbon Street. And yes, he had done them all himself. He could’ve asked for a Klokateer to prepare them but, eh, he knew better than anyone how he liked his drinks. The anticipation of getting them all ready would only make it more gratifying when he finally got to drink them, too.

And now, he was about to enjoy the fruits of his hard labor. Raising the glass of Martini, he was about to make a toast to himself when Toki stormed into the kitchen and his peace.

“Oh…” Toki seemed surprised to have found him. “Pickle…”

“Toki?” Pickles eyed at the couple of Klokateers coming behind him, carrying grocery bags. “Whut are ya…”

“Um, puts it on de tables.” Toki gestured at the Klokateers. He returned his gaze to Pickles, hands behind his back. After the Klokateers left, he asked. “How ams you, Pickle?”

Pickles was no idiot. He could tell when Toki was hiding something and, maybe most of the time he didn’t care, but he sure cared about it now. He was ruining his drinky drink time. “Whut’s going on, Toki?”

Toki tilted his head to the side, feigning innocence. “W-What you means?” Even from here, Pickles could tell he was nervously twirling his hands.

Summoning patience, Pickles put the glass down. “Y’are up to somethin’.” His eyes narrowed. “Are ya tryin’ to sneak in candy, again?”

There was a dilemma in the light blue eyes, undecided whether to keep pretending or to come out with the truth already. Eventually, he went for the latter. “Ahh, okays, I just wanteds to bake a little desserts for everyones for the beginning of falls!” He hunched over sadly. “‘Twas meants to be a surprises, but oh wells…”

Pickles raised his eyebrows in surprise and then glanced at the bags. Curiosity getting the better of him, he walked to the bags and began inspecting them. There were apples, flour, butter, ginger, sweetener, sugar-free ice cream, some nuts…

“I was gonna makes apple crumbles…” Toki said pitifully.

“Toki, we have most of these already…” Pickles pointed out.

“Oh, we does?” Toki asked, surprise in his features.

“Did ya check the pantry?”

“Um, noes…” Toki averted his gaze like an embarrassed child.

Holding back the urge to roll his eyes, Pickles massaged his temple. He gazed at the five babes waiting for him by the counter, then back to Toki, who was kicking his feet by the door.

Ah, fuck it.

“Alrigh’!” He stood up. “Who wants to get fuckin’ wasted and bake some amazin’ apple crumble?”

Eyes widening, Toki dashed to him. “Reallies?”

“Yea.” Pickles smiled at him.

“Thanks you, Pickle!” Toki hugged him a bit too enthusiastically. Pickles could feel his bones cracking and his lungs on the verge of bursting. Before too long though, he was released. “Wowee!” Toki’s eyes fell on the drinks. “What ams dese?”

“Just some brutal drinks I made…” Pickles explaining, torn between faking humbleness and showing off. He pointed at the martini. “This is Apple Poison-”

“Oh, cools!” Toki grabbed the cocktail glass and began downing it.

“Easy there, Toki!”

Uncaring, Toki kept drinking until it was empty. “So goods…” He licked his lips, slamming the glass against the counter. Immediately, he tried to get another drink, but Pickles put his hand over his.

“Let’s get started with the apple crumble first, okei?” He said, encouragingly.

Toki already had a dopey grin on his face, “Okays!” He accepted and grabbed the two bags of groceries effortlessly to drop the ingredients on the kitchen. Then, he pulled a piece of crumpled paper out of his pocket. “Let’s sees…press heat…press hit…far and highs?”

“Just gimme that.” Pickles snatched the paper off Toki’s hands from across the counter. God, the handwriting was terrible. And so was the grammar. He squinted, wondering if any of the words in it were part of the English language. “Alright, screw this.” He said, tossing the paper to the side. “‘m pretty sure I remember how to do this one. With his left hand, he grabbed his Nightmare on Bourbon Street and took a sip. Making his way to the oven, he turned it on 350°. He took another sip, god damn this shit was good. As the alcohol started soothing his senses, Pickles turned to Toki. “Now, we start peelin’ the apples.” He took half of them and gave the other half to Toki.

“O-Okays.” Clumsily, Toki started imitating what Pickles was doing. A beginner to the art of desserts, no doubt.

“Um…Pickle?” Toki asked after a while.

“Ya want help?”

“Noes…” Toki was clearly struggling, but he kept trying. “Thanks you.”

Pickles raised an eyebrow. “Ya said that already.”

“Wells…yeah, but…um…’ave always wanted to bakes with families…so thank yous.”

“Okei…” Pickles said, trying not to get too emotional about it. He had barely started drinking, for fuck’s sake. “Y’are welcome.”

Toki fidgeted a little. “Pickle?”

“Yea?”

“Can I has another drinks?”

Pickled raised his gaze and saw Toki trying really hard not to smile. “Ya little runt…” He shook his head, amused. “Go ahead, dildo.”

“Yays!” Toki leaned across the counter and grabbed the Grave Digger. While Toki tasted his masterfully made tequila cocktail, Pickles quickly rubbed his right eye.

He had always wanted to bake with someone he cared about, too.

#kloktober2023 #kloktober #metalocalypse #pickles the drummer #toki wartooth #my writing #no beta we die like men etc #i mean it this time IM SO SLEEPY

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cozza-frenzy · 1 year

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Fanfic: A Perfect Moment

Of all the places I could be, I just want to be here with you. Hello again, fandom! It’s been less than a week (apparently??) and @chronicsheepdrawing‘s amazing character designs are still keeping my creativity train rolling! This fic once again stars their Drinky Bird Narrator - so if you’re not familiar, go check out a silly bird! (He certainly needs more love, given how he thinks of himself... ) This is a sequel (of sorts) to Anything Not Saved. It happens some time afterwards, after more resets and endings have taken place. Expect a dark chocolate Angst Cake with plenty of Mutual Pining, layers of Fluffy Stannarrator between each layer, and a Meta cherry on top - trust me, you’ll see what I mean. And my apologies to any ASL users; I did at least try to do some research, but I can’t vouch for my accuracy! CONTENT WARNINGS: Isolation, Paranoia, Abandonment Issues, Self-Hatred, Body Dysphoria (Not Gender Related), Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, Emotional Breakdown, Memory Loss, Panic Attack, Touch Aversion, Autistic Sensory Overload/Over-Stimulation. I’m also adding a mild Unreality Warning to this one. If you’re looking at a reblog of this post, there are details in the tags of the original if you feel like you may be triggered by this. For everyone else, the tags are a minor spoiler, so maybe don’t look unless you’re really curious. Bon Appetit!

Stanley? STANLEY!? Oh my god, Stanley! Stanley, thank goodness - something VERY peculiar is going on this morning… See, it all started when I booted up my computer this morning - and you’ll never believe it, but I wasn’t receiving any commands! NONE! So I asked one of the other Employees what was going on, and they must not have known, because they didn’t say anything! What do you think; should I perhaps try the meeting room? Do you think maybe I missed a memo? I mean I really don’t want to interrupt anything, not to mention the sheer embarrassment of walking into something like that, not only unannounced but LATE- Wait, I’m not done! Stanley, I’m not - oh, sorry, sorry, of course! It’s precisely 10:32 AM, of course you always get a drink of water from the cooler at this time in the morning… haha, typical silly old ▇▇▇▇▇▇, am I right? I swear, I’d lose my head if it wasn't permanently attached to my neck! But, ah, anyway, Stanley, I just feel like… like something’s wrong? I mean, have you noticed how some things are, eh, just… you know… ‘off’? Like did you know Employee [ERROR: DATABASE ENTRY INVALID]’s desk is empty? I mean, it looks like they haven’t touched their pencil sharpener in weeks! In fact, now that… now that I’ve thought about it… Stanley, did we ever HAVE an Employee [ERROR: DATABASE ENTRY INVALID]? I mean surely we wouldn’t have a desk without an employee! That’s ridiculous! But why can’t I seem to… ? Ah, yes, alright, I know work is important and I know I tend to ramble but- please, just hear me out?? Look, I know I must be trying your patience! I know my ‘little stories’ are utterly insufferable to literally EVERY other employee in this building! But you, you always stopped to listen and - waitwaitwait, I’m sorry, just - please! Please Stanley, I’m ALWAYS supposed to receive my instructions and now I can’t even access my bloody terminal! I mean, how ELSE am I supposed to make sure the other employees are doing their jobs correctly?? Didn’t the board hand down that notice just last week!? You know, the one reiterating how vital it is to the well-being of the company that all of us, together- Stanley? Stanley, where are you going-? Can… can you hear me? Can you even SEE me!? Wait! Stanley! Stanley, I’m right here! I’m right HERE! Why aren’t you looking at me? Why aren’t you LOOKING at me!? STANLEY! STANLEY, PLEASE!! DON’T LEAVE M- Oh… …Oh no… —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ah, memories… Wonderful, wonderful memories. So much exquisitely-crafted content to reminisce over. He’d worked so hard on crafting this place; he’d fashioned every detail with care and precision. Yes, there would be trees here, a nice little fence there… oh, perhaps a few flowers, for a little splash of color! Yes, yes! The sound of birds, the smell of grass, the sky just a little overcast... yes indeed, not too bright, nor too gloomy. The light would hit just perfect this way, painting everything in soft and muted shades. Wonderful. Those clouds would be the whipped cream on this lovely little slice of the world, so close to being served and savored. And like a nervous, fidgeting pastry chef, the anticipation of someone experiencing this delectable delicacy had him practically giddy! The Narrator took a deep breath through the nose he maybe didn’t have, filling absent lungs with fresh air; and heaved a heavy sigh as he closed his plastic eyes, calming himself down. Wouldn’t be long now, he thought, chuckling softly. Stanley had fallen for his little breadcrumb trail the very minute he’d opened that vent… and any minute now, he’d be marveling at the inexplicably out of place stone archway. Manifested as if in a dream, a glowing portal to another realm, right there in the office… He rocked back on his heels a little, humming merrily to himself as he waited. Ah, he was proud of that little room; so mysterious, so enticing. A beautiful fragment of memory that he’d dusted off and polished up, until it glittered in his mind’s eye like a priceless diamond. Not half bad for something he’d forcibly yanked from the tangled, mangled wreckage that had been left behind in his head, when he’d stopped being human and become something- The Narrator cleared his nonexistent throat, straightening his tie. No, no, not today, he scolded himself internally. That so-called ‘Ultra Deluxe’ content’ had been so unfathomably disappointing, he’d had no choice but to do better! To show them just how great The Stanley Parable used to be! And any minute now, the hero of their story would be walking through that door to the most wonderful surprise. “Just our little secret”, The Narrator said as he felt Stanley’s presence. He was right behind him now, and getting closer. “Take a look.” He turned around, eager to see his protagonist’s reaction. He watched as Stanley shielded his eyes; the fingertips on his other hand tracing the surface of the cool stone pillar, as he stepped out into the memory of warm daylight. And the Narrator’s heart swelled with pride as he heard the soft gasp of wonder - the exact reaction he’d been looking for. “I call it - the Memory Zone!” He said, turning towards the path before him. “It’s where I keep all of my favorite memories… ” Not too far away was a squat, triangular building, full of snippets he’d painstakingly selected and organized for display. He’d come here a few times himself while it was still under construction; just to re-live some of the moments he’d preserved. As soon as Stanley stepped through that door, he would… wait… The Narrator froze suddenly, glancing over his shoulder. He’s got that look again. He’s… looking at me! Damn it, he’d been so caught up in what he was doing, he’d forgotten to unload his model! Alright, alright, maybe if he acted quickly enough, Stanley would dismiss it as simply a brief glitch- >/console >/unload Narrator.mdl ERROR: NOT FOUND What?? Clenching his glove-fist in frustration, he reached into the code and tried again. >/unload Narrator.mdl ERROR: NOT FOUND >/locate Narrator.mdl ERROR: POSITION NOT VALID The Narrator closed the console. That warm, fuzzy feeling of pride was quickly disintegrating under the freezing grasp of fear. He’d built the Memory Zone in a place so well hidden it was only outside the bloody map!!! And now there were footsteps behind him! And like the absolute fool he was, he turned around! Stanley was approaching. Slowly drawing closer. Each step ticking away the seconds to his doom. It’s okay, he reassured himself. You can pass it off as the Easter Egg from last time - just using it as a puppet to welcome him and nothing more! His face flushed. Stanley was right in front of him. He tried not to think about what muscles he may or may not still have - but regardless of their supposed existence, they all tensed at once, leaving him stiff as a board, frozen in terror. But he could work with this, right? Yes, he could! He could work with this! He could improvise, he improvised all the time-! Just don’t move…. Stanley looked into The Narrator’s eyes, his hands held tightly to his chest. …And he’ll lose interest eventually… Stanley moved his hand. It trembled as he held it out in front of him, slowly reaching forwards. Stanley… ? Stanley bit his lip. Wait, Stanley, what are you doing-? And Stanley touched him. The boggled look on the Narrator’s face shattered any previously-held records in the history of boggling. Stanley was touching him. Stanley’s hand was touching him. Stanley’s… warm, gentle hand... the pads of his fingertips slightly rough, slightly calloused. Each one a scar from another life; from the only life he’d known before The Parable. Continuously, rhythmically pressing buttons, over and over. Day in, day out. Broken fragments of memory flashed before the Narrator’s eyes in a sudden flood of noise; a disjointed, jumbled mess, utterly out of context and out of order. The taste of coffee in a paper cup. Stanley’s eyes. The bubble of the water cooler. Conversation. Buttons marked “YES” and “NO”. His hands, his human hands, nails painted in an office-appropriate shade. A phone ringing. Stanley’s smile. A rising sense of panic. A snippet of a half-finished anecdote. Waking up. Blacking out. Laughter. Fire and pain and then nothing. A lunch break. An office-mandated birthday cake. A board meeting. An office-wide memo. Stanley’s hands. Stanley’s hands. He felt the tears welling up. He wrestled with the memories that hardly made sense, momentarily gaining the upper hand, only to find himself smacked senseless by the feeling of overwhelming grief that spiraled out of the current moment and skewered his heart. He twisted his head this way and that - desperately trying to get his stupid, stupid body to move! This was wrong! This was all wrong! “STOP!!!” The Narrator screamed, finally managing to pull away Stanley recoiled as if he’d been burned, and the Narrator turned from him, clutching the sides of his head as he struggled to get a grip, struggled to cram all of those horrible, horrible feelings back down inside himself where they belonged. NO NO NO NO NO NO-! The illusion is ruined! He definitely knows it’s me now! But ahead of him lay his last hope. His last chance at salvaging something, anything, from this horrendous mistake he’d made. The display area! If I can just get to it then I won’t have to face him! he thought to himself. He’d have to be quick, he’d have to take advantage of Stanley being distracted, but he could do this. He could make it! He could… he could just figure out the rest later, he had to GO! The Narrator started to run; and realized his fatal mistake too late. Inside his inhuman, transparent stomach, a sizable amount of liquid sloshed noisily back and forth. The more he ran, the more it sloshed. Back and forth, back and forth. Slish, slosh, slish, slosh… the momentum of each wave slowly building... and building... until-! “AH!!” One of his feet caught on an uneven memory of grass. All that heavy liquid, all that momentum, SLOSHED all the way to his front. And as these things tend to work with the laws of physics, the weight sent him tumbling forward onto his stupid idiot face, sliding across the ground a few feet before he finally came to a stop. The Narrator rocked gently back and forth from the still-sloshing liquid in the transparent globe of his belly, knowing exactly how he looked. It was a sight that would leave a professional circus clown weeping; hanging up his red nose and floppy shoes for the last time, his worldview in ruins. Witnessing such a sight, he’d know, deep in his heart, that no carefully coordinated pratfall or precisely timed nose honk - not a single artfully-placed whoopee cushion or expertly thrown custard pie - could ever come close to such breathtaking buffoonery. This is it. Stanley is never going to take me seriously ever again. The tears came thick and fast now, leaving the despairing Narrator gasping for breath between sobs. He’ll laugh at me. He’ll mock any sort of narrative I’ll try and create. Anything I try, no matter how wonderful, no matter how meaningful, it’ll be just a big joke. Like ME. Stanley stood over the Narrator, casting a shadow over him as he lay on the floor. The Narrator glanced over his shoulder, his fingers digging into the memories of grass and dirt beneath them and ripping them apart. Suddenly, hopelessness had given way to white-hot fury; Go on, he silently, bitterly urged his protagonist. Do it, you cretin. Finish me off. Put me out of my misery. Break my story! Break my heart! Break ME! Burn it all down, grind it all into the dirt where it belongs-! Stanley held out his hand. The Narrator looked up at him, tears still rolling down his cheeks. He was - for perhaps the first time in his life - speechless. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Meanwhile; a man named Stanley had overstepped, and he knew it. <It’s you.> He’d signed, mere moments ago. <It’s really you… > Oh of course that shrill, annoying little voice in his head known as Common Sense had screamed at him endlessly. It stomped its little feet, tore out its hair, hammered its little fists on the bars of the bespoke and utterly inescapable cage that situations like this always built to contain it. No, stop! It cried. You mustn’t! But Stanley’s hand had moved of its own accord. He just had to know. He had to know if what he was seeing in front of him was really, really real. He had to know if what seemed like a memory of a dream of a memory - of someone he’d once felt close to - actually meant something. And then he’d touched The Narrator. Stanley’s hand shook when it had first met that plastic cheek; but feeling the smooth surface, he couldn’t help but relax from its reassuring familiarity. It was almost like a button, if a button was surprisingly warm. And despite feeling almost exactly like plastic, there was something indescribable, something wonderfully and beautifully alive about it. This was plastic with a pulse, and it made his fingertips tingle... His gently questing fingers found hair next. If he’d been one for poetry, he might have compared its color to fresh-fallen snow, kissed by the morning sun, but such metaphors escaped a mind such as his. Stanley was a simple man; not stupid, at least not usually, but his world had been small before the Parable swallowed him up. His memories of his old life were limited mostly to what he’d done at the office. But he vaguely remembered seeing a color like that, at work, in some kind of context… by the water cooler, during some kind of talk… and he knew he’d wondered, more than once, if it was as soft and fluffy as it looked. And as he stroked it gently... yes, apparently, it was that soft. A little stiffer than he’d imagined, maybe, but at least it looked nice and fluffy. Stanley felt a blush spreading across his cheeks. He hadn’t been sure what to think at first, but one word was slowly coming to mind, and that word was- “STOP!!!” Suddenly, abruptly, Stanley half-remembered and half-realized that softness was attached to The Narrator, and the shock may as well have electrified his arm. He pulled away; and seeing The Narrator’s reaction, his poor, simple heart sunk all the way to his feet. He knew he’d pushed things too far, he knew he’d done something dangerously close to Workplace Inappropriate Physical Contact, but had he hurt him-?? The Narrator turned and tried to run. Stanley scrambled after him, longing to cry out; Wait, please! I’m sorry! Don’t despawn again! The Narrator tripped and fell. Stanley, overcome with worry, rushed to his side, extending his hand. The Narrator just… looked at him. He was breathing heavily, his eyes full of tears, his fingers covered in dirt and crushed bits of grass. <I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!> Stanley signed repeatedly; in his desperation, he couldn’t even remember the next part of the Workplace Apology Procedure. The Narrator was still silent; and Stanley’s heart sunk further and further as his frustration grew and grew. Half-formed signs spilled from his shaking hands as his own tears began to rally the troops, fat drops ready to march down his cheeks in double time as he bit his tongue - why was this so hard, why was this so hard?? Mustering every bit of bravery an office worker of his rank possibly could, Stanley fell back on his last resort. Extending his hand again, he crossed the fingers on his other hand, holding them up so The Narrator could see them clearly; <R> Next, he held two fingers up; <U> His fingers formed a circle; <O> And lastly, two fingers split, like a peace sign; <K> “Am I… okay??” The Narrator’s words were strangled with emotion; but just hearing him say something, say anything, was enough for a wave of relief to wash over our daring hero. Smiling, Stanley beckoned with his extended hand, and The Narrator finally grasped it. It was soft, like the tasteful suede they used for the chairs in the Boss’ Office, and Stanley found himself subconsciously running his thumb over a line of neat stitches as he helped the poor man off the ground. The Narrator teetered on his feet for a moment, seeming unsteady. Stanley tilted his head slightly; what was that strange sloshing noise… ? But The Narrator sniffled, bowing his head again, and Stanley immediately snapped to attention. Yes, he knew just what to do! Reaching into his shirt pocket, he pulled out a packet of Office-Issued Disposable Handkerchiefs - an employee’s best friend for any sneeze, sniffle, or non-fatal accident involving coffee - and handed one to The Narrator. “Oh, Stanley… ” The Narrator dabbed at his eyes, and blew his nose like a foghorn. Stanley looked at him with a mixture of sympathy and utterly helpless confusion. He could only ever recall hearing him so utterly distraught once before, and that was… not a memory he really wanted to dig into. Was this really his fault? Had he deviated too much? Had he ruined his story again… ? “I don’t understand… I just don’t understand… ” sobbed the Narrator; ”Why are you being so nice to me?” Stanley was utterly dumbfounded. He couldn’t even bring himself to start signing, but the What!? was so implicit that The Narrator looked up in surprise <BECAUSE! I’M! HAPPY! TO SEE YOU!> Stanley signed with undeniable emphasis, holding his hands right at the Narrator’s eye level. Unable to hold back his own tears for a fraction of a second longer, the armies came marching forth in torrents. Stanley was happy. Stanley was angry. Stanley was frustrated, overwhelmed, overstimulated, and so desperate he felt like he was drowning. His lip quivered, his whole body shaking from the effort, but he had to do this, he had to be brave. This was what he’d waited for. This was his hope. Somewhere, far far back in his memories, something stirred. Before the Parable. Before beginnings and endings. Before he’d ever known what a ‘Reset’ was, those memories were reaching out to him. Memories of a face half-remembered, and a name long forgotten. Memories of someone speaking his name, over and over, instead of addressing him simply as ‘427’. A kindly smile. Uproarious, mischievous laughter. Coffee with cream and a disproportionate amount of sugar. Passing a slice of store-bought birthday cake, and accidentally brushing hands under the paper plate. <STAY!> And stories. Every day, there were stories. The other employees called it rambling, called it irritating, called it inefficient and unproductive… but to him, they were little stories… <HERE!!> Stanley strained from the effort. <PLEASE!!!> And The Narrator touched him back. Stanley froze in place. He was hyperventilating, gasping for every breath between silent sobs, but his hands finally lay still. The Narrator’s hands were holding them; silencing them. But Stanley didn’t mind; in fact, he welcomed it. He was at his breaking point. His heart and his head were both full to bursting. So many feelings. So many words. This wasn’t what he was good at. This wasn’t what he was meant for. But now, standing right across from him, was someone who was. Standing there, gently holding Stanley’s hands, was me. His Narrator. Let’s shift the perspective again, shall we? —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ahhh, there! That’s much better… feels like having a really good stretch after you’ve been sitting in the same place for a while, don’t you think? Let’s just take a moment to let the story settle… to take a deep breath, maybe have a sip of water…. to appreciate just how far we’ve come. …Now, uh, where was I… ? Oh, yes! Anyway; slowly but surely, I found my footing again. Our heads had been in the clouds long enough, and now I was pulling us both back to Earth, back into whatever passed for reality in this place. My thumbs gently stroked the back of Stanley’s hands; giving him something real to cling to. Giving my nervous hands something to do with themselves. And the moment I saw the tension leave his shoulders, I let go of the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. <You’re really here… > Stanley looked down at my hands and their irremovable gloves. Despite my fears, there was no rejection, no cruel mockery; just quiet fascination. Again, that same look, as his eyes moved up from there to my chest and to my face. And needless to say, it didn’t take an omniscient narrator to understand what his eyes were asking me. “Yes, Stanley. Go ahead.” Stanley reached out; I leaned my head into his hand this time, letting him know me through touch. And don’t you dare pass judgment - this is very hard for me to admit to - but it took everything I had not to burst into soppy tears all over again. We were old friends who’d just met. Two halves of the same soul, reunited at last. Surely a meeting like this was written on all the stars in the infinite cosmos, and upon every grain of sand in the- Stanley reached out a finger and ‘booped’ my nose. He laughed uproariously; not at me, but with me, as I somehow found a small chuckle growing into a full-on belly laugh. I just couldn’t help myself! This entire, bizarre situation we’d once again found ourselves in… the two of us so helpless, messy, and stupid... it felt so good to come so utterly undone. We were just a couple of total idiots, Stanley and I. Standing there and giggling like lunatics. And then… I found myself overcome by a strange impulse of my own. Seized by a brief moment of temporary insanity, perhaps. Taking a small step back, I opened my arms. Stanley didn’t hesitate for a single second. He fell into them like he was coming home; like he’d just had the longest work day in the universe, and someone had just presented him with the fluffiest feather bed in existence. Nearly bloody bowled me over again, with all his enthusiasm. But I looked down at Stanley - and he looked so happy, well... uh... you know what? I’ll give you the incomparable joy of picturing in your head just how happy he was. What?? No, I’m not lost for words! Me? Lost for words? Ugh, of all the… no, no, let’s not ruin this. This one right here is all yours. No, go ahead, take it. Don’t say I never do anything for you. But, ahem - to continue our scene, we were both sitting down now, right there on the ground. Stanley had his ear to my stomach, listening to whatever the hell liquid is in there slosh back and forth, as he rocked himself gently in place. There was no way he could realize how he was reminding me, with each slosh, of what I am. Of how I’ve changed. Of what I’ve lost. But for the first time since I could remember… I didn’t hate it. At least, not entirely. Perhaps I could get used to that, in enough time. Around us, the memory of birds sang, and the memory of a breeze gently rustled the memories of grass and flowers. Somewhere in the distance, a memory of a piano was playing itself - ah yes, I’d almost forgotten about that. Perhaps we’d see it later. Perhaps we’d sit on the bench I’d placed nearby, and look at the view. Perhaps talk to one another, instead of just at one another. Yes… that would be nice, wouldn’t it… But between Stanley and I; right here, and right now? There’s a glittering silence between us; one that outshines any other memory I’d care to rescue from the scrap heap. Things, I realize, are falling into place. As gentle as snow, as warm and welcome as the light of dawn. This, I can tell, is what I’ve been waiting for all this time; what I’ve been striving for, over and over, with each and every branching path. A perfect moment.

#The Stanley Parable #TSP #TSPUD #Stannarrator #Stanley/Narrator #Fanfic #NO BETA WE DIE LIKE THE END IS NEVER THE END #UNREALITY WARNING: The last section has The Narrator addressing the reader directly and talking in first person

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sailermoon · 5 months

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i saw your tag about wanting a matcha whisk and i was wondering if you could recommend a brand of matcha that you use? i'm boycotting those stupid corporate coffee shops, so i want to go back to making my drinky drinks at home but i don't know much about matcha brands orz

hi!! I’ve only tried two brands I really like but I love this one and this one

the one on the left I use daily cause my local Asian market sells it for around 12 bucks so I can restock easier. the other one is 18 dollars and I have to order it online but is also really good! I ran out and haven’t bought more tho lol I believe the ippodo (right) one is ceremonial quality but weirdly enough I actually really love the maeda-en one more

I make my matcha with a little under 1tsp of the powder, I whisk it to break up any clumps, pour half a cup of 80°C water in the bowl + keep the whisk in there and kind of let it sit for a second if that makes sense. I read somewhere about letting the matcha + whisk soak in the hot water before u start whisking and I feel like I’ve noticed a difference in how much it froths up. I whisk that for a good while, then pour the remaining other half cup of hot water into the bowl. I add around 1tbsp of agave and 1/4 cups oat milk :-)

I hope this helps!

#it’s a fun little morning ritual of mine!#answered #recipes #kinda sorta #my measurements for water may be off a little cause I don’t use a traditional cup measuring tool just a regular glass lol #I’d play around with it!

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lutawolf · 1 year

Text

Never Let Me Go D/s breakdowns Ep 7

I try to keep this to D/s moments, but I always end up rambling. It turns into commentary. Woot! Sorry! Part 1-6 can be found here.

Let's go! Here is Palm to take over making the bed from Nueng. Why am I not surprised. Palm begging Nueng to let him help! Such a sub, but Nueng doesn't want to me seen as anything other than an equal. Makes for an interesting romance, right?

He hit him!!! Yes!!! "I hit you because you are stubborn." "Let me do it. I want to help you, so you won’t be tired, but you don’t appreciate it. You should have thanked me, instead, you hit me." 🤣🤣🤣 He starts to hit him some more. Yes! I approve! Damn, this next moment really gave us chemistry.

Fuck Palm's mom. Cock blocker. Why is she asking so many damn questions. Like look lady. You gave him up, you don't get to act like a mom.

And there is the confident Palm. He knows his job. I also like the communication here. Palm explains himself, it makes sense, so Nueng apologizes. "10,000 baht, do you have it?" "For you, I can find a way to get it." Damn, he's upped his flirting game. Palm is falling even more in love. Nice.

This next part. This next part. He is so commanding. "Is their motorcycle broken? Pull over there." And look at how excited Nueng gets about the proposal. I love it! Now Nueng asks Palm to go to the secret beach, no command. "Is this how couples act when they are together? I’ll remember it." "Why do you need to remember it?" "You always said that I’m not romantic. I want to learn from them in case I may need it in the future." Look at that flirting game. Then purposely putting oil on his face. I am dying. I love it so much! "Get back to the motorcycle." That's for sure a command. Damn, but this couple is giving me whiplash.

Fuck being impressed with his bravery. Asshats.

"I think it’s very romantic." "So, when you took me here, did you want to have a romantic moment?" "Did you think it was romantic? If you think so, it means I achieved my goal." Look at that smile on both their faces. I love it. "I'm also waiting for my moment." Damn, he is going strong, not hesitation. Before he couldn't even tell him that the first kiss wasn't one of convenience, but now look at him.

"Some people say we do not belong together. We are so different. But I see our differences are good. Because I can learn about you. I want to share my life with you. You are my friend, my family, and my soulmate. Do you want to marry me?" Then the way Palm and Nueng looked at each other! OMG!

Palm is a sub. Absolutely, no doubt about it. The offering to rub his feet. Wanting to do all these things. And you can see his sheer joy in doing it. It's not for the job, but because he wants to. Yeah, no, that's a sub. Fuck! His smile the entire time he is massaging his feet is killing me softly. Ahhhh... Such subby joy!

Trust me, Nueng, Palm will put up with your bad temper. Ahhh, the reaching out to touch him while he slept. The smile. I'm not okay. Palm losing his shit at not waking up to Nueng is everything. Yes it is. I've lost my ability to be normal about these two. A Playful Nueng is so cute. But Palm being playful with him. That's fucking adorable.

Shit. I called it on the heart thing. I told you guys they were foreshadowing it. @akitbeast 😭

"My dad told me that we owed our lives to the Kiattrakulmaytee family." If I paid to save a kid. I would not want him to turn around and give his life. "No one is the owner of your life. We are all living our own lives. You too." Look at him speaking some sense.

He wrote a song! And he is one hundred percent singing it to him. I'm dead. No drinkie drinkie for you! Oh wow, that dancing, is um. He dances like my husband. That's all I'm gonna say. Mom is nosy and Palm is not having it. Okay, but she called it when she asked if they had kissed. "It felt good." That is not a good enough excuse, ma'am. I would get it if you never wanted to be a mom, but you loved him very much but felt smothered. Welcome to fucking motherhood.

The hug! The hug! Palm thinking Nueng is drunk, and Nueng saying he is drunk on love. I think I got a toothache. These two and their flirting. Ahhh. Ahhhh, taking his hand. This is too sweet. Also, this totally went off rails from talking about D/s stuff to me just talking. So sorry.

Dude! I keep pausing through this confession. It's just. Something about it makes me feel embarrassed. Like Ahh. Okay. I got through it and can I just say that I love the way Palm kisses Nueng. He puts his whole heart and back into it. No dead fish kisses here.

The next episode looks serious. Are you still wanting me to do these? There isn't a whole lot of D/s to talk about. I'm just rambling away. 🤣🤣🤣

Hope everyone is having a good weekend! 💜💜💜

#never let me go #never let me go series #palm and nueng #palm x nuengdiao #luta talks never let me go #luta talks kink #coconuts mafia

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yandere-sins · 2 years

Note

It's even funnier if the yandere pining for Yuu is one of the aggressive ones like Leona. Man has to gain the approval of a platonic yandere ex general for his kid and it's obvious that he's not getting it sooner or later. He can't even try to kidnap Yuu bc of local bat dad, and not only that Yuu's "siblings" are keeping a close eye on the weakest one in the family.

[Based on this post]

Honestly, this has almost the feel of a "summer romance with the bad boy character"-trope xD

Like, there's you not coming home with the others right away and Lilia growing suspicious when he can't find you in the crowd of students. Meanwhile, Leona just stole you away to lounge under a tree with you and chill. To you, it doesn't even feel like he's a walking red flag, but naturally, he never asked permission from your 'dad' or you in that matter. He simply decided that if he's not 'allowed' to take you, he'd just... do it.

For you, it might just be a fun little discursion from your family-orientated everyday life on campus. You're not seeing either of Lilia's or Leona's views on things and don't feel like following their orders. But it's nice to have Leona say, "Come with me," and then just end up at the other side of the outdoor sports area and eating snacks Ruggie arranged on Leona's orders. It just feels beneficial to have a change of pace and be out of dorm activities and be with someone else, doing nothing the Diasomnia gang pressures into you.

Of course, the more time passes, the more Lilia gets concerned about where you are and why you aren't with your family, asking the other Diasomnia students if they saw you. Until - finally! - someone recalls seeing you sneak away with Leona, though he describes it as you 'went willingly', which only infuriates Lilia more. You know that you have duties and responsibilities and... well, you should be home with everyone!

Lilia's perfectly capable of hunting you down himself, but he still asks everyone to join in and help 'rescue' their family member. He's promising to everyone who finds you first that they can join in on the 'fun' activity afterwards (punishing you) before everyone swarms out, happy to follow his orders like a little army of minions. They turn over every stone, look into every nook, and climb every tree on campus until they finally spot you and Leona still chilling together.

That's when the hunt begins as Lilia is immediately informed about your whereabouts, rushing there while Leona throws you over his shoulders and makes a run for it. He's not going to hand you over as if you were a phone charger; he just doesn't know where to bring you yet, always having to listen and keep his gaze sharp to not run into someone that would take you from him. It's such a nuisance, and his annoyance is bottomless, but he'd be damned if he let you go.

Of course, Lilia has already ordered to block the gate to Savanaclaw, so if he wants to get somewhere remotely safe, he has to walk there, and that's not easy with grabby hands tugging at his tail and your body slung over his shoulder. You're also not entirely sure what is happening, so you are unnecessarily struggling even though Leona's doing you a favor.

However, all the running ends kind of anticlimactically with Lilia waiting for you two right in front of Savanaclaw Dorm's entrance, asking you to come with him now. Slowly you two are surrounded by Diasomnia students, the Savanaclaw students not entirely in on the idea of a fight against the best of the best. But when Leona refuses to put you down and give you back peacefully, for a moment, Lilia loses his patience, his face contorting in anger as he screams, throwing the lion 'back in his place' and catching you midair so you won't get hurt.

Cautioning Leona not to do anything stupid in the future, Lilia has Silver and Sebek take you back while you are still so confused as to what happened (it's been literally just two hours after school at this point, and it's not like you were doing drugs or drinking, you were just hanging out with Leona from your perspective). Nonetheless, you'll get punished with all sorts of duties like cleaning the lobby and washing everyone's clothes, and depending on how well you behave, Lilia might refrain from doing worse than that. But the idea of a spanking is still in the room.

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mothonfire · 2 years

Text

A Beer in a Wine Glass

read in ao3 || this masterlist

Adrian Chase // male!reader

Warnings ; mentions of blood, descriptions of smut.

Sipnosis ; Adrian gives you a blow job for pride month

3.3k

Cold, shining, golden beer was all you could think about. God, you could almost taste it, from the bar down the road, second tap to the left, Heineken; or, if you were lucky, one stubby of Estrella Galicia, just because it felt closer to home. The day was almost over, the vampires were killed, the mission was done for the day and that beer had light of its own inside your mind.

“You have no idea how bad I wanna get wasted right now,” Chris let his bag on your desk with a loud thud and clapped his hands.

“Fuck, yeah” Vigilante took his mask off, a drop of blood down the side of his face. You sighed, going into the bathroom and hoped he didn´t need stitches. It was almost last call and you wanted your beer, stitches would take for ever.

Emilia came back to the main room in your new headquarters, a small house on the outskirts. “There is no way you are drinking tonight” Adrian frowned, standing up from the office chair he was sitting on.

“Why not?” You came back, first aid kit in hand.

Emilia left a gun on her table. “I am a hundred percent sure you have a concussion”

“No, I do not!” He looked offended and you nudged him, gesturing to the table behind him. He half sat.

“You hit your head, on a traffic sign. Then fell off a cliff and landed on a rock”

He frowned. “Well not with my head!” You cleaned the trail of blood and took the hair out of his forehead. You knew your breath was hitting his cheek. He liked it.

“You were unconscious for twenty minutes!”

“I fell asleep!”

“Bullshit,”

“Oh no, Vig, dude” you covered your mouth and he looked up at you, wide eyed “I can see your brain spilling out your head!” You wanted to distract him, your head hurt a bit and his daily back and forth with Emilia was making you want he was unconscious again.

He stood up. “What?” it was kind of stupid how highpitched his scream was “Is it gonna fall off? Can it fall off? Oh, no, I like my brain inside my head dude! Quick, catch it” You started laughing a little and he stopped “Oh you were messing with me,” he sat back down with a small smile “that was funny”

“You are not drinking today,” he only needed butterfly stitches.

“Not you too!”

“I'm sorry,” you smiled “But you did hit your head pretty hard” You closed the cut “So no drinking”

He looked at you like if you had stabbed him. “That is so not fair,” he climbed off the table and stormed out the room. You closed the kit.

“There is no drinking for you either,” Harcourt said.

You snapped your head back. “What? Why?” You heard a muffed ‘Hah, loser’ from the other room and you frowned on it´s direction. Fucking hell.

“You are absurdly behind with your reports, I need at least the ones from last week for tomorrow” Emilia grabbed her things.

Man. “I'm not that behind, come on,” that cold beer was slowly drifting away from you.

Emilia gave you a look "Dude, come on, even Chris has written down more than you"

"Ah, suck it" he was smiling proudly, cleaning his helmet.

"Oh, piss off!" you got closer to Emilia and clasped your hands together "Please, please, I'll do them later" Devastating, absolutely devastating.

"No, you stay. It's an order"

You sighed, curling up your lip. Ow, man. "What a bummer" Vigilante mocked, holding himself by the door frame. The fucker was laughing a bit. He was also on black sweatpants and a tight shirt, some of the spare clothes he left in the HQ.

"You stay too," Emilia started walking away with everyone else "you need to start writing reports, we are paying you now"

"Hah, loser" you murmured and he frowned at you.

"It's not fun if you say it," and they all left the house.

You had more than a week of late reports. Eleven missions, if you were being precise. And that was going to take you all night. God you wished you had done them earlier, now you could be drinking. And you weren't drinking. You hated not drinking. You loved drinking. So much, man.

"This is so boring I think I'm going to die," in the span of an hour, Adrian had sat on the couch, thrown knives at the wall, eaten chocolate, hidden under a table, lost his phone, found it and stabbed a pencil in an apple.

"You could write reports," you looked back at him "that's just an idea"

"I don't wanna do that!" and he was back on the couch, like a vicious cycle. “It's boring, I need action” You went back to the writing. Just seven more to go. The silence didn't last long. “My legs feel like they are going to explode”

“You have been here for an hour,” your eyes were locked on the screen.

“And twenty-three minutes!”

Your head fell to your hands and you groaned, fingers pressed to your eyes, then intertwined on top of your mouth. “If you don't wanna be here, leave. I need to finish”

“I don't wanna leave,” he kind of murmured that one, sitting up on the couch. You made a face, frowning with your lip curled up and your eyes small. “I shouldn't leave you alone, it's late”

You kept the face “Okay, that is just bullshit”

“No-uh” he stood up, a defiant finger pointed at you. Kind of energetic and definitely out of place, absolutely comically stupid.

“Yuh-uh,” you stood up too, finger to his face. “I´m a fucking soldier” kind of.

He stared for a second. “I think you are a, uh, a small weak man and that—that you need me to protect you,” your mouth flew open. He was so obviously lying but it was funny to see him try.

“I could totally fuck you up,” you couldn’t help the smile.

“Oh, oh, umh there is no way in that, I´d win you with a hand to my back,” he raised his eyebrows at you “you have some uh, skinny wiggled arms, and some like, not at all strong hands and you are not—you don't,” he pointed a finger to you “you don't train as much as I do” He looked pretty satisfied with that.

“Mh, is that so?” The truth is that it wasn't true at all, you weren't as jacked as Peacemaker was but you handled yourself and you thought of yourself as a pretty good fighter. You knew Adrian though this too. “You think you can beat me in a fight, Chase?” That’s were he wanted to end. He was bored, when he was bored he needed to move and, for some reason he didn´t want to leave so he was provoking you. You found it pretty funny, how blandly obvious it was.

“I know it” and you punched him on the face.

It wasn't really that hard, not even half as hard as you normally would punch someone. You aimed for the jaw, so his glasses wouldn't take any damage. He stumbled back, got a hand to his jaw, looked at you half crouched and launched himself at you. He did not hit you as hard as he could have.

After a bit he grabbed your arm and tried to make you lose your balance, knock you down, but you kicked him and punched him again. He wasn't focused. You were good, really good, trained and skilled but Adrian would have been able to kill you with a good sharpened pencil only. But he didn't. In fact, he was losing.

It went on for a long while. Kicks and punches thrown there and then. He punched you once, on the nose, and you kicked him. In the motion he got a foot under you, making you fall back, to the couch. You sat there, confused for a second, looking up at him, chest heaving. You tried to stand up. He grabbed your wrists and you struggled, groaning. He leaned in, his weight helping him. He put one leg on either side of yours, knee next to the thigh. Your legs were spread open so it was hard for him to balance himself.

“Get off me,” your voice came out low, you tried to move your body one last time but he sank you further into the couch, both your hands trapped over your head now.

“I win,” and he was smiling. You were holding back, and now he was smiling down at you, sweat damping his hair, out of breath. Smiling.

You stared at him breathing out of your mouth. You really couldn't move. His whole weight on you. Well not all of it, he still had his knees on the couch. You kind of wished it was all of it. You just stared.

He had beautiful eyes, greenish blue. He had a small mole on his cheek and little freckles around it and his nose. You wondered where else he had them.

You swallowed hard, not struggling anymore though his grip did not loosen. He felt like he was closer now. In fact he was. Slowly, not smiling anymore, he was lowering his head. He blew a warm breath to your open mouth and you sighed, setting your hands free, grabbing his face, slamming him into you. He hummed with his throat, tilting his head. You opened your mouth again and deepened the kiss, he leaned in, body and soul. His belly pressed against the end of your chest. You let go of his face, slipped your hands down at his waist, slow at first, his skin felt too smooth to hurt it. He bit your bottom lip and stared into your eyes through his lashes, slowly pulling away, glasses at the end of his nose. You held his waist tightly, squeezing it a bit. He let a breath out, it was warm and made a small whining sound. You kissed him again, fingers digging to his flesh this time. He pressed himself closer, small sounds escaping every time air came between your lips. He held your face and pressed you further down, your fingertips rubbing the small of his back.

You weren't sure how long it took him to let go of your face and start fumbling with the buttons of your shirt, struggling with his mouth still over yours. After a bit he looked down, big wet sigh escaping his lips. He got the first button; the corner of his mouth twitched up and you felt it in the depths of your stomach. He got the second button.

You leaned up a bit. "Wait, there's blood on your face" it was over his mouth and on the tip of his nose, you reached up but his hand got there first. He didn't lose the smile, cleaning the blood with the back of his thumb.

He stopped to look at it and then at you, this other hand still half into your shirt. "I think it's yours," his voice was so low and his eyes so deep it took you a while to process what he had said. You blinked a few times.

"Oh, fuck, sorry," you tried to move, pressing your wrist to your nose. He cleaned himself a bit and went back to your shirt, tilting his head down to kiss your neck.

"Don't apologize," his voice came warm from under your ear, he was being quiet. You could feel his smile, "I was the one who punched you" He bit your skin and your head fell back onto the couch.

He unfastened the last button and half a second after his hands were inside the shirt. He couldn't stop, he had to touch you everywhere all at once, he pressed your ribs and chest as he sucked small dots bruising all over your throat. You pulled him up to kiss him again and he stood on his knees, drifting away slowly, smiling.

“It's odd to look up at you,” you whispered.

“What? Why?” you just wanted to see that confused frown again.

“Cause I'm always looking down,” you played with the fabric of his shirt “I'm taller”

He gaped his mouth, taking a big breath in. “That is not true!” You kissed him and he hummed again, now it felt more like a hug, with him tilting his head and you holding him on top of you. “I love your neck…” he breathed with a hand around it and his mouth on your jaw. He was careful now, going down, kissing your chest, dropping to the ground, grabbing your belt.

“Adrian—” he was in between your legs, eyes with light of their own.

“What? Do I stop?” his eyebrows shot up “I need your consent and stuff,”

He was adorable. “No, it's fine just,” you looked around “everyone uses this couch, it feels kind of wrong”

Adrian nodded, as if he was following you though it was obvious he wasn't. “There's the upstairs rooms,”

“We all use those,” you take turns to sleep in long shifts.

He was disappointed now, let down, that thing he had was consuming itself inside him and you couldn't let it disappear. It had woken something in you, and you felt the sense grow back in you, the voice that whispered that you couldn't do it, that it was Adrian, that he was your teammate and just that. You wanted to do it, wanted to let him in, wanted him like that just for a bit more. “Don't you have a car?” And it was back in his eyes, with the smile and the tight grip. He got up and left. You looked for paper in the bathroom and let the water run for a second, staring at your bloody face in front of you. “Come on, let's go,” he was behind you. You looked at him through the mirror. “Don't wash, it's kinda hot,”

Adrian took your arm and dragged you out. He stopped and pressed something that beeped. The air was cold outside, night long fallen, streetlights reflecting on his glasses. You couldn't stop staring at him, at his profile, his smile, his nose and his jaw. He pulled your arm and you followed him down the road. It was a new neighbourhood, on the outskirts, half the houses still unbuilt, no neighbours. Perfect for a HQ. And for you.

He opened the door for you and you climbed to the passenger’s seat, back against the other door, head on the window. It was still kind of cold. He closed the door behind him and threw himself at you, kissing you, making you hit the back of your head. He pulled back. “Dude, I need to suck you off, right now, or I think I´ll die” you laughed, just a bit, then you undid your belt. His smile was priceless, he looked down at your hand on your crotch as if they were made of gold. “Let me, let me” He undid the button and looked up at you, asking for permission, more excited than you had ever seen him. And that was saying a lot.

You leaned down to kiss him and then nodded, murmuring a small “go for it,” he kissed your tummy and pulled the zipper down slowly. Your legs started to feel numb, him in between your thighs. He got his head up for a second and got you off your pants, smiling at the sight.

"Hey, big boy," he whispered and you wanted to laugh again. He ran a hand down your thigh, pulling your leg up, resting it on his shoulder. His hand gripped you and you locked eyes with the ceiling, sighing.

Adrian started stroking, slower than you thought he would, holding himself back, pushing down the hunger. He ran his tongue down your tip, your hands falling to his hair as soon as his lips met you. His hair was clean and soft. You groaned when you felt him pull you deeper.

His hands rubbed the back of your legs, spreading your legs apart. The air was starting to suffocate you. He was all warm. You wrapped your legs around him, drowning out the noises coming off your throat. He gripped your waist, fingers digging into your skin, and pulled you further down. Your head hit the car door and your back was pressed against the seat. Adrian maneuverer you without losing his peace, deepening, pressing up with his tongue. You pushed his head down a little bit, to see how far he could go. He made a pleasant sound and your legs tightened around him. He got it out, breathing for a second, stroking you slowly, kissing down. You couldn't see his face, buried in between your legs. He was licking under your dick now, kissing, breathing heavily. You hand was still lost in his hair.

He looked at you, for a brief second, then you were deep down his throat. “Fuck—” Your legs shoved him down, around his neck, you tried to loosen the grip, afraid of making him believe he was trapped. He let his hands still, focusing on his mouth, unsteady peace. His lips closed at your tip before shoving down again. He started going faster, messier, playing with the tempo. You started to feel him all around you, not only his lips and the back of his throat, not only the warmth of his breath on your belly. He was in your veins, you felt him in your stomach. Sounds were coming off you, up from forgotten places. You gripped his hair, he was fast but just enough and you almost couldn't breathe, the tension down your stomach expanding through your veins.

“Adrian,” it came out weak “Adrian, I´m— Fuck, I´m gonna…” He made a sound with his throat and you arched your back, releasing it all, wanting him close, pulling his hair. “F—uck…” You let your back fall, everything relaxed and you breathed deeply. He pulled back and you let go of his hair. He kept his hands on your legs. You were sweaty, felt warm all over, your eyes on the car ceiling, your head resting up, your breaths going in and out at weird tempos.

His hands rubbed your legs, going up to your waist, playing with the button up around your sides. “How was it?” His throat was sore but he sounded happy.

“Fucking hell…” you breathed out, unable to move. He kissed your knee, folded up, then your thigh. You looked down at him. He was on one knee in between your legs, the other with his foot touching the ground, leg under your leg. His hair was messed up and his cheeks dyed a pinkish shade. He was smiling, sweat damping his hair. “Did you swallow it?”

He was looking at you in an odd way, you had never seen that look directed towards you. “Yeah,” he was admiring you. He breathed out. “You are really beautiful”

You breathed out a laugh, sitting up. “Shut up,” you smiled a little when you pressed your lips back together. He hummed a bit, holding your face, kissing slowly. You pushed him back, lips still connected. His back rested half on the door on his side, half on his seat. Your mouth fell to his neck. “You are too dressed,” you whispered against his skin.

He took his shirt off without a single word. His skin was soft, you traced it as you kissed under his jaw. His heartbeat sped up, he sighed. He was sweet. His hands were on your hair. You kissed him as you pulled his pants down.

#adrian chase x reader #adrian chase #adrian chase x male reader #peacemaker #peacemaker fanfiction #male reader #they should fight more tbh #im not sure if i like this or not

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peach-moths · 7 months

Note

Hello again!

I did this lil silly survey a long while ago :)

I wanted to ask if you would mind to answer a few of my questions :3

If not, that's totally fine! No pressure!

How many hours do you sleep per night?

How many hours are enough to get through the day and how many are a lot for your standard?

Is caffein (in any form) part of your morning routine or your 'last resort'?

How do you feel over the day before and after consuming caffein (if you consume any)?

For example: sluggish, foggy, awake, exhausted, grumpy, just tired, etc.

Thank you a lot for (maybe) participating!

If you want, I can add you when I post the results, but I can also leave you out :)

thats a lot of questions haha i will try my best to answer them

1) usually I get anywhere from 6 to 7 hours of sleep a night, sometimes 8 but not often especially since i moved house last month

2) I can survive ok ish on 6 hours but any less and I am sluggish for the day (haha get it because im a moth, and slugs are bugs like moths)

I've also noticed if i get more than 8 hours i behave similarly to how i would with 6 or less hours of sleep

3) i am...addicted to caffeine, especially while i was at my old job. It helps me focus not to wake up/stay awake, when I was at my old job on most days I would get a 16oz iced chai and a bagel from a very pretty barista who would give me more chai than milk in my drink (16oz Iced chai with a plain bagel not toasted no cream cheese), if i didn't get a chai from pretty barista I would get a large Rebel energy drink from Dutch Bros

I have cut back on my caffeine intake since moving but that's because I don't have a job and I am too poor to afford my little drinky drinks (I miss my little drinky drinks)

4) Kind of mentioned it with the last answer but caffeine just helps me focus and pay attention to what's going on around me better. I definitely have withdrawal symptoms when i go longer than 2 days without caffeine (sometimes its the next day, but i don't usually feel the withdrawal until day 2)

thank you for the survey questions this was fun! You're free to include me I don't mind!! thanks for stopping by!!! have a dust ball shaped like a fish

#peachmoths ask tag #aww look you all finally get to meet my sona :)#peachmoths sona tag #long post

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cemeterywretch · 7 months

Text

man, opening may have been hell on my mind and body for literally being right in the middle of when i typically would have just gone to sleep, but i have to say working on bar during peak is like 6000 times nicer. yesterday i had two other people on different positions on the bar, and i was in my spot, and didn't have to move or anything, and we were like a well-oiled machine. it used to be that way all day, but these days, if you're working a mid shift or closing, there's only one bar partner making all drinks for everyone. drive thru, mobile, in-store. you try and try and try, but they keep coming, and they never stop coming, and there's nothing you can do about it. as you struggle in vain, the odious Customer is out there, staring right at you like you're an animal in an enclosure. they don't care that you're the only person making beverages. why is it taking so long? you're moving as fast as you can, but nothing can stop the onslaught. you put out two, three orders at once and five more come in to replace them.

"um, hello? excuse me," they say. a piece of the Customer has detached itself to interrupt your work. "i have my drinks, but i ordered food, two grilled cheeses and a tomato mozzarella, and also a cheese danish."

you look behind you. the warming station is covered in stickers, and you can't go check for it without stopping what you're doing. asking the drive-thru-warming person is also useless. they have not gotten to this person's name yet. you tell the Customer this, and that you're both working as fast as you can, but it's just the two of you and things are backed up and you'll have it out as soon as possible. they glare at you doubtfully and return to the pulsing mass of waiting consumers. all the while the eyes never leave you, no individual pair any different from another, all of them impatient, hungry, disgusted with you for daring to be a human being with limits who simply cannot make everything fast enough to stem the tide. and they just don't stop. they never will. it doesn't matter how slowly they get it. they'll keep coming. they'll complain, loudly, they'll leave a bad review, whatever. but they'll keep coming because they want their drinky drinks and it's the most important thing in the world, every day. they'll even tell you to your face that they're never coming back, but they'll be there again the next day. and the day after that and the day after that. they'll never stop coming, and you'll never be free of them or this place. you'll be stuck in this place forever. every day you make the beverages.

also the season is changing and your nose is stuffy and you have such a headache :(

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yuta-nation · 1 month

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hiya luke! could i request cherry vanilla and nectarine for you and your precious yuuta?

cherry vanilla: how does your F/O show their affection for you?

he's an acts of service guy, but also physical touch. so if he's feeling extra affectionate he'll cook a more elaborate meal for dinner than usual, letting me taste test as he goes. when it's time to eat he wants to hold hands, which is a little awkward but i think the sweetness outweighs the inconvenience. when i wash the dishes (cause it's only fair) he hugs me from behind and rests his head on my shoulder. but day to day it's smaller things like tying my shoes if they get undone while we're walking, holding hands, buying me a little afternoon drinky drink when i'm having a rough day.

nectarine: do you and your F/O live together? If so, what does your living space look like?

yes, we live together! our apartment is super cozy, full of plants (he enjoys taking care of them, which is good because i bad with them) and lamps and friend's art. we spent most of our time in our common spaces (living room & kitchen), the bedroom is really only for sleeping (and not sleeping). but yeah, everything is a little cluttered because i'm a maximalist, but we're pretty good about keeping things clean. most evenings he's watching anime or reading on the couch, while i play games on my pc next to the couch, but after an hour or two i'll join him and watch something together. We also spend a lot of time in the kitchen; he likes to cook, i like to bake, and we keep each other company while the other is indulging in their hobby, helping when asked. our apartment is our safe haven since we're both home bodies, and it's our favorite place to be.

#thank you for asking !! you're so sweet #this was fun hehe #🩵: luyu #🩵: yuta #💌: mail #🩵: game time #🩵: my dear amira

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quinloki · 3 months

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OKAY BUT IZOU IS 100% PURPOSEFULLY A LITTLE SHIT I can just picture him being amused in the beginning but then losing his patience bc NOTHING is happening the two brothers are content to play the long game and slowly win you over since they don't want to pressure you! and that's no fun to izou

so he works on sending luffy/ace/thatch at convenient times to interrupt and if it was anyone besides sabo/marco they prolly wouldn't catch on but those two are smart and sly on their own so they maybe originally think it's the other one before discussing it. It's not like they're on bad terms they're aware what the other is doing and maybe they've snuck themselves out onto a 'date' the other had but they're both mature adults so there's really no hostility there, just some brotherly competition. so they work out that it's izou somehow, maybe izou is very very subtly flirting on his own where they can see, but you're definitely oblivious bc he's VERY subtle about it

and I can picture them confonting him about it and him being like what? if you don't hurry up someone else will snatch the little flower up and arrange her beautifully

OKAY also agree that they would eavesdrop. my brain said no earlier when I said vent trope but nah, sabo would give zero shits and be at that door. imagine yall had something going on earlier with a few drinkies and you're just a littleeeee tipsy too when ace comes to ask you what's up so you maybe give him way more details than he asked for and they both hear the whole thing (and ace definitely needs another drink after that)

thatch being the oblivious tip offer is so funny bc he means well and it's so cute I can see thatch casually talking marco up to you too and it's not like them going to thatch's bar would be TOTALLYYYYY creepy like they could just play it off as they came to see thatch! no idea you were there!

yes the 'soft around me then scary dangerous around threats' is such a good trope omg I love it like you've seen all of them playfully mad at ribbing between brothers but the actual anger is blowing your mind!!! (and it's kinda hot lolol)

okay but yes to mafia au (and heheheh hotel with marco and sabo >>) but imagine they were kinda in that world to begin with (maybe not mafia but connected enough to know who's who and have strong connections/money) and another reason you're such good friends with ace besides the punch first mantra is that you're both a little dumb like he tried to bring it up at some point, thought you understood, and maybe you said something like 'i don't need to know details' (bc you thought it was something wayyyyy different) and so when you went to move in they asked ace if you were aware of whatever and he was like yes! but she doesn't want details! and they start explaining it after and it's like ????? excuse me WHAT idk just a dumb misunderstanding bc you and ace are just a little dumb together especially and you're sitting there like oh… they have a really big, nice house and oh all have nice cars and wait how did you not notice this before

lmao and imagine the hotel shower looks like the one in your dream so there goes into that train of thought as you're trying to calm down from everything else and man did they look hot when they were mad >>

quin you fed my brain and now it's going in overdrive oh my god I can't get it out of my head help I'm so sorry I typed so much at you T_______T

DO NOT APOLOGIZE - Omfg this was AMAZING to read - you are killing me in the best way. I love it. I want to write it. I want to just line up espresso shots and stay up all night and not sleep and just WRITE THIS because it is just getting more and more amazing the more we talk about it.

Mafia-ish AU - Maybe the Edward Family did start below board. Made some nice money from it now and then transitioned to actual legal activities. Sure there's still some shady connections in there, you can't shake them entirely, debts owed and all that. But legal enough that the marines who harass them aren't going to get any where.

Sabo's a lawyer, part of Dragon's firm, and half his job is dealing with the red tape the Government dogs insist on throwing at the family business, that has truly and honestly gone from Family to family.

Marco's effectively the CEO of the company, Pops stepped down and retired after shifting everything over to a legit business. Thatch had the bar as a front originally, but had effectively shifted it into a lucrative business before the rest of the family business shifted over. (Izou's the CFO, Ace works in the mail room, but he is learning the ropes for the entire business, and will spend 1-2 years in just about every role in the company so he can learn logistics hands on).

The family's not that long removed from things either, maybe five years. Maybe somewhere between 10 and five, like, just enough to be honestly legit, but not so much that they've gone soft by any stretch of the word.

Shanks is still mafia, and I think friends with enough of the Edward Boys that there's some amicable exchange of information between them. He keeps them in the loop, they set up some shell corps for him. There's real animosity with Kaido and Big Mom though, but most of that might not even come into play with the story.

I LOVE the hotel shower being like the one in the dream, and you over-shared details with Ace, so Sabo and Marco both know. Know in that "Oh what an interesting shower, wouldn't you say so?" kind of way.

Oh but man - word gets out, the Edward Boys have a weakness™ - you'd have to be hella dumb to take that risk, or crazy powerful, or just plain crazy.

At some point you learn that the brothers aren't blood related - and that's one of those "I should've known" moments, cause everyone looks so different, and it was a Family™ and not even an adopted family, and gods alive Sabo isn't even Marco's brother, he's Ace's and something about sake, and Luffy, and don't think too hard on it, how did that dream go again?

#quin muses #kazieai #I honestly wouldn't mind them being brothers #but Idk that I'm ready to write a in-family polycule #read about it sure #but I tackle enough kinks as it is XD #I'm not ready to add more yet

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aromanticbuck · 1 year

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i know you’ve already mentioned a little about will, but do you have ideas for other characters from med or fire in the hockey!au?

Hi, Nonny!

I actually have very little planned and thought out for other characters, but I'll touch on the few I have vague ideas for so far. (in my defense, this is definitely a more PD-based AU and Will is only thought out as much as he is because he's Jay's immediate family)

Connor

I'm predictable, and I will be including Rhodestead in my gay little AU. But I don't actually want to change much about Connor from canon? I really liked his motivations for becoming a doctor, and pushing away from the family expectations, and making a name for himself separate from his last name (as much as he could, with that last name), so I'm keeping that. He's still a doctor, but not nearly a fellow yet. With my headcanons for birthdays and some math (Will is 21 when he starts at the coffee shop, so it's a few years before they meet, since Connor wouldn't even be a med student doing a clinical rotation until he's... 24/25ish? the summer/fall he's 24, soon to be 25, according to my quick google search), he's in his 2nd year rotations about a year after Will starts working at the hospital. So their paths cross pretty early on.

He gets his stupid little drinky drink every morning from the hospital coffee shop, with all the extra syrups and flavors and sugar, so he can't even taste the coffee itself (he's the only one who gets me). And, eventually, that tall, ginger barista (whose nametag says 'Will' in that stupid curly font that's hard to read but feeds into the """aesthetic""" so that's what all the menu headers are in, too) starts to have his drink ready for him before he even gets to the counter each morning.

Will, with all his own abandoned doctor dreams, absolutely teases him for his stupid coffee order. And then there's the obligatory teasing that turns into flirting that turns into Will giving him free drinks every once in a while and it turns into... something more. Eventually. Connor wouldn't want anything serious until he's done with med school and at least settled into a residency. But Will likes his coffee job, and it pays the bills, and he gets to see the cute soon-to-be surgeon every day so he's fine with it.

I've played with the idea of Connor's father also owning a small hockey team but I don't know where I stand on it anymore. I gave Will a barista job so it's not needed for the plot. Cornelius can do whatever he wants I don't control him.

Hannah

This was kind of a joke but I ended up thinking about it more after mentioning it offhandedly to @avasrhodes last night. I'm not doing any timeline math for this one, but she's dating Erin in this universe. They're pretty bisexuals who kiss each other and go out on cheesy dinner dates. And sometimes Hannah gives little talks at Erin's substance abuse community outreach center. They're living happy lives and just vibing. Hannah is still a doctor unless she ever decides to do the public speaking thing full time. I don't make that choice, I'll see what she decides to do as I continue to develop this universe.

And that's what I've got. If you want to force me (not the right words but I can't come up with better ones right now) to think about other characters in the One Chicago universe in relation to this AU, I welcome more asks! I love thinking about this AU it's fun.

Also! If you see anything incorrect about my above math re:Connor's doctoring timeline, please let me know! I googled. I didn't deep dive or anything. I tried to be accurate but I have no idea if I succeeded.

[ ask me about the hockey au ]

#answered #anon #the hockey au*#connor rhodes #will halstead #rhodestead #hannah asher #cmed #chicago med #one chicago #alex says things

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timeoverload · 4 months

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I had an episode at work earlier suddenly and I was so angry that I was in tears. Nothing triggered me other than my own thoughts and I thought I was going to snap. I wanted to scream and go crazy but I didn't. I got lost in my head and I was making assumptions about things that I'm not sure are even true. I typed up a long explanation about why I'm upset but I'm not going to post it. I don't want to make anyone mad because that's not my intention. It's not going to make anything better if I do say anything about it so I should be quiet. If you really want to know what I'm thinking, you can ask me yourself directly. I don't to involve anyone else in that conversation.

You also reminded me earlier that some of the best times in my life haven't happened yet.. when will that be..? It has been over 2 and a half years now. You told me santa claus was coming to town but I think he must have gotten lost. You are the only gift I wanted for Christmas so I was sad but I didn't want to make a big deal out of it and ruin your weekend. I'm not trying to blame you for how I feel. I also still want to give you the gift I got you for valentine's day. It's nothing that exciting but I hope you will like it whenever I'm allowed to give it to you.

Thanks for posting stuff on instagram because I appreciate it and it's very sweet. I wish it could substitute actual human interaction but I should be grateful you send me anything at all. Sometimes I feel like I am getting the silent treatment when you don't post on your tumblr for a while. I guess sometimes it seems like you are totally fine without me around but maybe you are good at hiding it. I know you are very busy all the time so you don't have time to sit at the computer like I do.

I hope that someday things will get better between us. I want to clarify that I am not angry with you. I am just having a horrible time trying to deal with this situation. There's so much uncertainty. I also miss you a lot.

Anyway I haven't had the best day. I'm sorry, I don't want to be a pessimist. I've been quiet for most of it and I still don't feel very talkative at the moment.

My eye is bothering me but it's not as bad as yesterday. My glasses still haven't arrived. I probably won't be able to get out of work to go pick them up so I'm not sure when I will get them.

I also can't drive anywhere until the snow melts. I'm stressed about Friday because I won't be able to go to my appointment if the roads still have ice or snow on them. I don't want to have to reschedule but my dad has to work so he won't be able to take me. I'm hoping it won't snow any more so I don't even have to consider that. I need to stop worrying about things I have no control over but it's so hard.

I wish I felt hungry because I really need to eat but I will try to force feed myself in a little bit. I want to be able to enjoy my food instead of feeling like I'm choking. I have been trying to avoid buying food at work to save money. I found out recently that the hospital bought the restaurant that caters our food every day and I'm tired of paying for it. I don't want to give back the money that I earned. It seems like they own everything in this town now and they are very greedy. Profits are more important to them than anything else. I don't want to support them. I will spend $2 on breakfast but that's it. Luckily breakfast has been better. There was a period of time where they would keep reheating the scrambled eggs several days in a row and they smelled and tasted horrible. I only ate them because I was starving at the time and they didn't have anything else. If I buy lunch, it is usually over $8 and it's rarely good anymore. Other people have complained about it so I know it's not just me being a picky eater. I think they send us all of the old leftovers from the restaurant so they can save money. I know I should take my own lunch but I can barely make myself dinner at night as it is. It's cheaper to just skip lunch. I have been drinking boost a lot with my dinner to try to compensate for not eating lunch. I know that's not something I can do forever.

I've given up soda for now but that's because I made myself sick last week. I don't want it anymore. I have switched to sugar free energy drinks and they don't make me feel quite as bad. They have a ton of sodium though so I have been drinking so much water. I can't remember the last time I went an entire day without caffeine and that's sad. I have withdrawals if I don't have any.

I'm sorry for being so grumpy. I am having a bad mental health day but otherwise everything else was ok I guess. I am grateful that I had a peaceful morning where nothing bad happened and there was no one around to throw tantrums. I went in early because the eye coordinator texted me late on Friday night to tell me my ultrasonic washer was broken. I got there and I had no problems using it so I'm not sure what happened but I was relieved I didn't have to scramble to find a temporary replacement. They have one in the basement I could use but I didn't want to haul it upstairs because it's a pain when I have to do that. I also didn't have eye cases this afternoon and there aren't any scheduled for tomorrow afternoon either. I was able to dispatch earlier without too many issues and I wrapped 5 sets of total pans so I got a lot done. I think I lifted too much though because my back hurts and my leg is tingly. I got to leave on time and the department didn't look like a disaster zone so that made me feel good.

I am going to try really hard to be positive. I know I will make it because I always do somehow. I will do my best to put a smile on my face tomorrow even if sucks. I have been rambling for a long time so I'm sorry about that. I still have shit I need to do tonight unfortunately. I need to make some soup soon I think. I'm going to get ready for bed after that. I need to try to sleep more than 4 hours tonight.

Thank you all for listening to me even when I'm a moody mess. Hope you have a wonderful day tomorrow. 💖💖💖

#personal

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