#and that light was just too darn fast

[khwxbeeda]

Date Ideas: Desi Edition

I'm in my TS Lover Era and I need some Pune date ideas so uh.. enjoy my thinking process ig

A proper date: dinner and drinks. Proper manners and polite conversation over good food and good beverages/drinks. You and your date pretend to be very serious adults with very serious jobs, and when you walk out of the restaurant you share a secret laugh as if you've pulled the greatest prank ever.

Chaha date. Standing on the side of a road under the insufficient cover of the chai stall with your fingers gripping the edge of plastic cups or mud tumblers, taking a deep sniff and closing your eyes at the smell of veldoda that wafts up. Looking up and catching their gaze already fixed on you, and looking back down, feeling the heat spread over your cheeks. You attribute it to the chaha's steam, but you know that's a lie. When you look back up, they're wating for you. They wink, and you nearly drop your cup, making them stifle a giggle.

Kulfi date. It's a crowded lane and you cram into the little hole in the wall kulfi parlour that's been there since your parents were children, excited smiles on both your faces. You order laal peru and request them to sprinkle chilli powder on top. Your partner gives you a dramatic scandalized look that has you cracking up and orders a sitafal kulfi without the chilli, please and thank you. With a lot of whining and teasing and mischievous smiles, you finally get them to taste your kulfi, and it ends with them ordering it for themself. You lean back in your chair and grin smugly even as they roll their eyes.

Book thrifting. Hands held, you walk into your usual book shop, a smile lighting up your face at the familiar smell of mogra and yellowing pages that hangs in the little room. It's a tiny shop in the basement of a shady old plaza, but it always has the best second hand books. The idea is to buy a book you think the other will enjoy, and then discuss them when you are done reading them. You pick up Ruined by Paula Morris, because you remember the three M's that your date swears by: Magic, Murder and Mystery. This is a perfect blend of all three, and you rather think they'll enjoy it. When you meet them at the counter, they have Nashtaneer by Rabindranath Thakur in their hands. You both grin at each other.

Juna Bazaar is as crowded as always. You giggle as they grip your wrist and drag you from shop to shop, rambling about their lecture in college. The sonchafa that you had tucked behind their ear is still there, and it makes something warm settle in your heart. You keep your mind on the mission though: buy three of the most interesting things you see, and then explain why you think it is interesting. They gasp and snap up a beautiful crystal vial like a magpie. It turns out to be kajal, made the traditional way. "You have to!" they insist, "it'll look so good with your pretty eyes!" You turn red and accept the little wand, dragging it between your eyelids. When you're done, your partner stares at you with their lips parted. Just as you're about to wave in front of their eyes and ask if they're okay, they lean forward and steal a lightning-fast kiss. "Too darn pretty for your own good, you are."

Camp area date! You two take a whole day to just stroll through Camp, pulling each other into random shops and cafés, looking at everything and eating from restaurants and roadside stalls alike. Your partner drags you deep into a sketchy looking plaza, and you find a clothing shop that sells the most random fashion items. You go to an ittr and perfume store. You visit Pasteur Ice Cream, Cafe Peter, the chaat stalls near Clover Centre and the barbeque corn stalls a little ways from Kumar Plaza. At the end of the day, you go home and show each other all your purchases; they bought you a bejewelled purse that goes with that one pair of your heels and you squeal over it, you bought them a chandan attar because you remember them mentioning it being their favourite smell and they immediately rub it over their wrists with a bright smile.

The two of you are tucked into a little corner of the garden. Sitting on an old bedsheet with several lunchboxes filled with bhel, samosa, kaju katli, shrikhand, slices of mango and watermelon and a bunch of green grapes. Your phone plays a familiar tune— Ishq Wala Love, and you're mouthing the lyrics in the most dramatic style that you can, revelling in the laughter of your partner. There is a mogra cha gajra braided into your hair and three roses tucked behind their ear; your little gifts to each other. Their eyes gleam bright with mirth, lips curved upward into a wide grin, and you can't help but lean forward and press a soft kiss to their lips. This picnic date is the best idea you've had in a while, you think, and the late spring flowers in bloom are the perfect addition.

.

Tag list: @mad-who-ra @yehsahihai @natures-marvel @musaafir-hun-yaaron @hum-suffer @h0bg0blin-meat @orgasming-caterpillar @wyvrens @kanha-sakhi

#amrut writes #amrut rambles #desiblr #desi tumblr #desi aesthetic #desi academia #indian aesthetic #indian academia #desi tag #romance #date ideas #desi date ideas #maharashtrian aesthetic #pune aesthetic #romantic #romantic aesthetic

[crazyoffher]

COLLAPSE IN THE KEY OF FIREWORKS.

lorraine day x fem!reader

summary: growing up in rural texas circa 1979 wouldn't have been so hard if you didn't have an attraction to your best friend.

warnings: eventual smut. - mentions of homophobia, canine injury, religion / religious rebellion, paragraph mention of suicide (in a joking manner), umm that's it i think.

word amount: 4100+

a/n: not really sure how i feel about this. sorry for the long wait </3

You loved her, and you wanted to express it more than anything in the world, even if it meant being condemned to the sins your father warned you of.

You wanted her, and the feeling was more than likewise, but you just couldn’t have her.

The realization did not take you forever to realize—your feelings for her, anyway. You knew that you wanted to drown in her gaze, love, smile, and soul the day you laid eyes on her in the back of that stone-cold silver pickup truck. It was a present given to your brother, the eldest, from your father the day he had completed his required service as a missionary, and the first thing that hick-of-a-man did was throw you over his shoulder and hurl you in the back bed.

You were twelve then, lonely as can be during the summertime, before that adorable girl with a voice sweeter than anything you ever tasted crashing down into your life, quite literally.

“Holy shit!” The truck stopped abruptly, and you had to hoist yourself to the far edge of the railings to prevent yourself from flying. You cursed under your breath the words your father would smack you day and night for if said out loud, shaking your head while jumping out of the back to see your brother fast out of the driver's seat, crouching down in the front of the truck.

“The heck did you do, Aziel? Burrow over a rock, ‘cause you know Daddy will kill you if you’ve already scratched this masterpiece.”

“Not no rock, no, but a dog. Cute one at that; I’m so sorry for this.” He spoke solemnly, and you found his frame hunched over as you cornered the truck's front, petting the head of a dog that 

whined in pain. “Come on, little miss. I’ll take him to the hospital for ‘ya, just join this devil’s spawn in the bed,” he pointed to you, though your eyes were glued to the dog, “and we’ll be there in no time, alright?”

“Okay,” and it was that saccharine tone that caught your ears, head perked up to lock your gaze on a girl, quite the small one for the age that matched yours, with cute little freckles spread out across her cheeks and her eyebrows furrowed. Concern laced her voice, and her face too, for the dog that you assumed to be her pet, and you felt bad for the girl that made your heart flutter instantly at just the sight of her.

She wore shorts that rode just to the edge of her knees and a tight white top tucked inward. Your father would have dealt you well for even thinking of such an unwomanlike outfit, contrasting her choice of clothing to your pink skirt and fitted light-blue long-sleeve, your denim jacket hanging over you loosely that you clung to when the winds picked up. The girl was beauty in a jar, if that even made any sense, and you knew from the start that you wanted nobody else but her.

“Here, hold off for just one second,” you warned the girl with a tight expression, being sent a nod as your hands clung to the metal of the bed’s railings, hoisting yourself up greatly to get yourself over and into the open space. You turned the knob and let the bed’s opening fly down, lending a hand to the girl with an injured dog cradled in her arms, to which she joined you on the bed with the utmost struggle.

“I’m sorry about him, by the way." The girl’s head perked up at your voice, a bit gruff from a sickness that seemed to loom over you. “My brother. He hasn’t always been the brightest, and I’ve been juggling in my mind for the past ten minutes or so about why my Daddy decided to gift him a darn truck.”

A small smile etched her face at your words, her hand mindlessly petting the dog cradled in her arms, and a sort of glint in her eyes that you seemed to pass over. God damn, did you still hate yourself to this day for how awkward you grew to be in that moment, failing to make direct eye contact with the girl who wanted nothing but her small ‘ol doggie to be well.

Your eyes subtly lingered over her shirt, stopping abruptly at the crimson-colored stains that donned the fabric with hatred. The girl was more than aware of the stains—she could feel her shirt melting into her—but she could have cared less at that moment when her canine, whom she loved more than herself, was itching and writhing in pain.

“Here,” you got up from your spot against the metal railings, kneeling in the middle of the bed, to the girl’s confusion. “Getting stains on that shirt, yeah? Wrap this over ‘em,” and in front of her, resting in your hands, was the denim jacket that you always wore, stolen from your brother the day he left town, and with no intentions of returning it upon his arrival.

A small “thank you” left those chewed-up lips of hers, bitten and torn from her stressful mind that hoped for her dog to be alright, and you know you’d be getting on Aziel after the situation had died down and the girl was long gone. Long gone, you hoped she wouldn’t be, because you hadn’t seen a face as pretty as hers in your short lifetime, and you didn’t want to imagine how long it would be until you saw it again.

Sooner or later on that breezy day, you found yourself perched on a chair in the waiting room of an animal hospital, feet swinging to the soft guitarra tunes mixed with solid tapping noises from beside you. The girl had her finger curled, her nail hitting the wooden armrest of the chair and scratching it ever so lightly, seemingly in need of taking her mind somewhere else.

Aziel was elsewhere, outside in a small payphone box that would trigger anyone’s claustrophobia, the dirty black-wired phone clinging to his ear while his head was drawn back; you could only assume he was growing tired of your father's voice through the transmitter, berating him for his reckless actions. You almost felt bad for him.

“What if he’s dead?”

That sweet, worried voice tore you away from your brother's frame, turning to face the new-found girl whose eyes bore into your face, tears brimming at the edges of her eyes just at the thought of it, and your heart sank.

“That’s no way to think, uh..."

“Lorraine.” She answered simply, eyes never tearing from yours, and you grew mildly uncomfortable at the continuous staring. You didn’t hate it—no, of course not—but you weren’t accustomed to having a pretty girl stare at you like that.

“Well, Lorraine,” you managed to turn your head away from her, resting them back on your brother’s frame, his posture slumping as time went on. “I love him to death—my brother, I mean—but oh,” your eyebrows raised, and your breath hitched when you felt a cool, soft palm brushing over yours on the wooden armrest, knowing the girl was only ever looking for comfort.

You finished your sentence with a new-found shake in your voice. “I’ll kill that son of a bitch.”

Before Lorraine could reply, the door where the veterinarian had previously taken her dog opened, and you surprised yourself at how quickly you rose from your seat. Lorraine gave you a look before standing up as well, sighing in the utmost relief when her eyes laid on her dog wrapped in a blanket, his chest heaving up and down to signal that he was alive.

"Oh, thank God!” Your head twisted to see Aziel at the front entrance, and his head hung in relief at the living animal. “I was going to bury myself in deprivation if that cute ‘ol thing died.”

“There would have been no need for you to bury yourself because I would have gotten to your Bible-praising ass before you could even shed a tear.” You barked, and Lorraine paused a second of her relief to react, a small smile etching her face at your words of protection.

“You better watch that mouth, sissy, because Dad would rip you a new one if he were to find out.” He threatened though you waved him off; he was all talk, managing to tick off every nerve that held patience within you whenever he pleased, and you still held shock in the back of your mind whenever you’d admit you couldn’t live without him and his childish attitude.

“He’s going to need care. He has two ankle fractures and stitches on his back that you ought to watch out for to make sure he doesn’t bite at them.” Lorraine and Aziel were the only two to listen to the veterinarian, while your mind took you elsewhere; the sun had gone down by then, as it had been over two hours since the truck-dog massacre, and you were sure Lorraine’s parents were concerned about her whereabouts.

“We should probably get her home now, yeah?” You had proposed after the veterinarian had retreated and the small dog rested in Lorraine’s arms, earning a nod from Aziel, who seemed to collect in his mind that Lorraine had a family that she needed to return to, pulling keys from his pocket and ushering the two of you out.

You settled in the backseats of the truck, finding it dangerous enough to ride in the bed, while Aziel got cozy in his driver seat. “Where do you live, girl?”

“The east.” Both you and Aziel turned your heads at her answer, seeing as the two of you resided in the North—hell, you picked her and her dog up in the North—before Aziel questioned her. “Ya positive? What were you doing out here in the North?”

“We were heading to a relative’s house, and my Daddy needed some gas; his truck stopped in the middle of a dirt road because the thing was empty, and he told me to go up to a gas station that was about five minutes out to ask for a gallon. Told me to take Atticus here too,” she said, bending her head down to kiss her dog on the forehead. “They ain’t give it to me, and I was on my way back when..."

Aziel visibly cringed at the remembrance, and he gave Lorraine one last look of sorrow before turning in his seat, cranking on the engine, and setting off east. “So, what? Your parents are worried sick now that you’ve been gone for hours, yeah?”

“Guess so. Daddy’s always been protective of me, calling me his little girl and telling me to always stick by him, but he needed to watch the truck, and I guess he figured Atticus would be enough protection.” Your eyes trailed to the dog in her arms, and you tried to understand how her father could think a dog that small could protect her. “God, he’s never going to let me out of his eyesight ever again.”

“I wouldn’t either if I were him.” Aziel’s grip on the wheel was harsh, his eyes searching the road every second to keep watch of anything. “His little girl ain’t come back; I’d think you were kidnapped.”

The rest of the ride was silent after that, disregarding Lorraine’s soft coos to her drowsy pup when he eventually woke, and you could see Aziel’s hands shake when the truck grew closer to the home address Lorraine had previously given. “Your fault.”

Your voice rang when you pushed yourself up to whisper in his ear, his hand finding your chest to push you back in your seat and away from him. Soon enough, the truck came to a stop outside of a house—a ranch, to your surprise—with a man in a cowboy hat and tucked flannel top sitting on the porch, clearly in distress, while a woman sat right beside him.

Before Lorraine could open the truck door, you put a hand on her shoulder to stop her, and she turned to you with curiosity in her eyes. “Do you think—uh?" Your voice caught in your throat, searching for the right words, while Lorraine had a small smile tug at her lips. “Uh, what’s your house number? The phone number, I mean, to the house. You know, how every house has a phone number because there’s a house phone in every-”

Her voice cut you off, and you could only thank the night sky for covering your reddened cheeks. “82-97, 500.” She gave you a sweet smile before turning the door handle, letting herself out while continuing, “First three numbers are the state code!” and shutting the door, soon embracing her worried father's arms.

When you returned home, you were instructed to sleep in your room while Aziel was forced into the living room, and the numbers recited from Lorraine repeated in your head as you trudged up the stairs, ignoring the shouts of your father toward your missionary brother.

“5…2…9—no! 8…2…9,” you scratched the numbers on a blank piece of paper in ink, "7, 500."

You were lost in your thoughts, trying to accumulate the state code numbers from far in your mind to let the sound of footsteps become known to you, and before you knew it, your mother was standing in front of you with her hands settled on her hips. “I thought I told you to go to sleep, (Y/N)! Stop whatever it is that you’re writing, read off your nightly verse, and go to sleep!”

That day was one you could never forget. It was the day you met your best friend, your teenage-long crush, and also the day you got to ride in a truck bed for the first time. Lorraine’s father, to his continuing demise that you refuse to call him anything other than Mr. Day, was more than reluctant to let Lorraine out of the house after the incident, but your natural charm didn’t take long for him to put trust in you—that you’d take care of his little girl—and soon enough, you were forcing Aziel to drive you down east every weekend to go hang out with the girl that clouded your every thought.

Your feelings toward her never mattered anyway, right? She certainly never felt the same toward you, or so you thought. You knew that the trajectory of two girls together would never be accepted in the eyes of your parents, in the eyes of your church, and in the eyes of the man whose verses you read in a book every night and whose practices forced and consumed your everyday life.

Soon enough, it started to concern your parents as to why you hadn’t found a lover at the growing age of seventeen, having overheard a conversation between them one night about the possibility of lining up suitors, shocking you to the very core. So when the next boy came around, annoying you more than life itself at your school locker before popping the question, “Can I take you on a date?” You could only swallow your pride with a choked-out, "Yes,” leaving your lips before scurrying away.

That relationship didn’t last long—maybe three months—before you had enough of his continuous attempts to shaft his hand into your pants. You ended your relationship with him after a dull day at the state fair, and he could only accept reality after being knocked out by Lorraine after attempting to assault you in a bathroom stall.

The day after, you sealed in place your love for the girl. How could you say anything to her, though? Express your feelings and get something out of her besides rejection—a scenario that you deem impossible. The internal battle kept you up at night, and deciding not to fight it any longer, you forced Aziel to drive you up to Lorraine’s ranchhouse on a cool Friday night.

You probably should have just stayed home, because that would have temporarily avoided the heartbreak words that left her mouth after you had settled in her room. They were not ones of rejection.

“I have a boyfriend!”

“What?” The words came out of a nervous impulse, your face falling to sadness. That went unnoticed by Lorraine, whose face had lit up in excitement at finally being able to tell you. “Yes! His name is RJ, and he’s in my film studies class. He’s so sweet, charming, and so nice, (Y/N)!”

If only Mr. Day had shotgun bullets pre-equipped in the barrels, you would have taken yourself down to the garage, where the weapon lay, and shot yourself without another word. You felt sick, and you felt sicker when that fateful day came around the next week when you had to meet the boy she raved about.

Boy, did that only make you question your self-dignity? He looked to be eighteen going on thirty-five, and you bathed in anger at the way Lorraine looked up at him with such admiration glistening in her dark-brown eyes. You yearned for that look.

Then, alas, the day you waited for came eight months later. 

You had accompanied Lorraine and RJ with your “boyfriend”, Danny, who in reality was just playing along to the toy game of you and him being either’s significant others, benefiting you for hiding your true identity and for Danny’s mother to get off his back about never having a woman by his side.

You had a limp in your leg, trying your utmost hardest to recover from the death trap that was the spinning teacups, berating yourself for trusting Danny to not send the two of you spinning like a couple of toy fidgets. In the end, his actions were limited to himself, and to keep himself upright as his head spun as quickly as he did, he tightened his hold on your shoulder.

The sky was fading to darkness, reminding you of the upcoming end of your day, but you couldn’t think about that when you heard the deafening cries of a girl sounding in your range, a cry that you knew all too well.

“You hear that?” Danny plugged a finger in his ear, fidgeting around the canal with the assumption that his mind was getting the best of him. “Get your finger outta your ear, will ya?” You put a hand to his forearm, yanking the limb to the side with a slouchy cry from the darning boy. “You made me scratch my ear!”

You only hushed him with the sound growing louder as if it were heading toward the two of you. It took a one-eighty to find the source of the problem, coming face to face with a crying Lorraine headed in your pathway at a directionally fast pace, no intention of stopping set in her quick feet as salty tears dribbled down her cheeks.

You held the girl without question when she crashed into you, burying her face in your chest with a mighty clutch to Danny’s—secretly yours—leather jacket, and your heart broke at the sight of her in such a distraught state. Why was she crying? Where was RJ? Was he the cause of her crestfallen shadow?

But you couldn’t pester her with questions; no, that would be irresponsible of you and rid you of all the mannerisms you were forced to learn growing up. You turned to Danny with a solemn look on your face; he was already looking back at you with a sense of confusion laced in his furrowed eyebrows, and you wordlessly cocked your head to the side to give him a signal of your temporary departure.

He shook his head, headed in the other direction with a slight pat on Lorraine’s shoulder, and you drove the other girl in the silenced direction of haystacks originally laid out to be used as sitting stations. However, nobody at the fair seemed to pay any mind to the location. Her crying never let down, sobbing in her hands while you rubbed her back in comfort.

It was only when she finally came down from her teary state that you carried the question, “What happened?” When she looked at you, your reassuring smile fell, analyzing her furrowed eyebrows and narrowed, red eyes, which made you wonder if she was agitated at your question. Should you not have asked?

Her staring never faltered; it looked as if she were analyzing you—your face, to be precise—and your breathing grew heavier as your mind grew less shallow at the impending thoughts that infiltrated your mind. “Raine, I’m dearly sorry if I said somethin’ wrong. I’m just worri-”

“Shut it.” Her voice came out in a whisper, and like a trained dog to its commander, your lips were sealed. Lorraine’s tone was cracked, weary, and dried out from all the crying she had endured not moments before, but now she had formed into a new human. If it weren’t for her reddened eyes, stuffy nose, and pinkish ears, you wouldn’t have had a clue she was in a former tainted state, and there before you, her pupils scanned you all over. Like… if you were someone she hadn’t recognized for years beyond that point, as if you were a whole new person to her.

You had no idea what thoughts circled in her mind at that moment, and if you did, you might have burst.

“I’m not crying because of RJ.”

“Then why are you-”

“I said shut it.” Your lips sealed once more, obedient to Lorraine’s words in the same way you had always been. It was never like you had anything better to say, anyway.

“I broke up with him, but that’s not why I was crying. I was scared of the truth ‘cause it’s nothing but wrong in other eyes, and I’ve always wanted to perfect myself in the eyes of myself and others. Now, I can’t.” You could see from your peripherals that her hands were shaky, fiddling with one another, and her mind was a swarm of second questioning. She couldn’t go back by then, though.

“I don’t think I ever liked RJ entirely. I feel bad about it all ‘cause I think I was just using him to cover up my truth.” Lorraine’s eyes had flickered off of yours for a moment, eyeing her fidgety hands before looking back toward you with a different glint in her eyes. You had never been more confused in life than then, and you wanted nothing more than to question her for miles ahead.

“I think this entire time, I’ve loved someone else.” To your oblivious mind, you couldn’t pick up the secretism behind her words or that glint in her eyes, and your heart broke at the idea of Lorraine finding attraction to another man, another person that wasn’t you.

“What’s his name?”

The corner twitches of Lorraine’s lips vanished, and the gleam that once filled her eyes left to form confusion before realization. “God damn it, (Y/N)!” She pushed herself back with a huff, and it was then that you recognized how close she had been toward you.

“What?”

Lorraine gave another large breath, filled to the brim with annoyance. “What? What? I had this entire thing planned out since last month, just for you to not understand it!”

“Understand what? Raine, you’re really confusin’ me he-” But you couldn’t finish your sentence when something was blocking your lips from moving—more noticeably, someone—and you didn’t move. You didn’t kiss her back, no, but it wasn’t because you didn’t want to. You dreamt of this moment every night, and you didn’t fucking move.

The three second reign it took for Lorraine to register that you had frozen in place rushed her out of her tranced state, the ecstasy coursing through her to finally feel your lips on hers. Her former relaxation and calmness at the ability to finally let her feelings out turned to fright. Did she just ruin a friendship with someone she labeled her lifeline because of her stupid, homosexual thoughts that she figured you would reciprocate?

“(Y/N), uhm, I-” But she couldn’t finish her sentence either, because, like you, there was someone blocking her lips from moving. That fright, the one that her body turned to, disappeared just as quickly as it settled in, and she sighed in relief as she wrapped her arms around your shoulder to bring you in closer. That feeling she felt in her stomach was something she had never felt kissing RJ or any other boy, and man, did it feel fucking amazing.

“Just- just one thing, Raine.” Your voice came in a hushed whisper, moving forward to rest your forehead against the girl you claimed to be your whole word. “Yeah?”

“We ain’t gonna tell nobody about this, ‘cause you know we can’t.”

That was the truth, one that broke both of your hearts. “I know.”

☟

taglist: @grandpatrolnut @annalestern @rhythm-catsandwine @yara124 @daryldixonsw1fe @alexkolax @red1culous @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @n0vabug @idkwimdtbh @yolehiho @likefirenrain @ctrlamira @lovelyy-moonlight @dunohilly @jjsmaybank20 @xzennypennyx @mfd-101

(all tagged are from the list that are originally tagged in jenna content. if you don’t want to be tagged in lorraine cont. please let me know!)

#jenna ortega #lorraine day #lorraine day x reader #lorraine day x you #lorraine day smut #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x smut #fanfiction #wattpad #lgbtq #wednesday addams #crazyoffher #x movie #x 2022 #mature #mia goth #pearl #wlw #lesbian #fanfic #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter

[treefory]

Wambus’s find

801 words

The setting sun’s warm light lit up wambus’s small garden. He dusted off the dirt on his paws as he had just finished planting his last seedling. He stood up straight and stretched his back.

Soon his eyes laid on his neighbor, Gramble, who was tending to his “little ones”. When the other grumpus noticed the other, he scoffed at him and went back to putting a hat on a plump red strabby.

“Typical Gramble…” wambus said to himself. It was strange having your only sauce buyer hate you, And it was awkward having him ask for more sauce after an argument. Honestly it was getting tiring fighting all the time. Triffany just wanted them to make up already, maybe that was one of the reasons she wasn’t around as often.

But just because his yard work was done doesn’t mean he was done working for the day. He had left behind some equipment in garden grove when he moved back to town. It wasn’t anything too important but it would be nice to have them back.

— — —

Back at his old garden everything had been torn up. His scarecrow version of himself had been knocked down and sauce plants trampled. Tough upset, Wambus said nothing and just chewed his straw. It wasn’t even what he was here for anyways.

Behind his pen, hidden in the bushes was an old shovel. Sure it was just a shovel, but he would’ve hated to lose it. After he had it in his paw he dusted it off and turned back around. But when he did he saw the bush next to his garden move.

“Probably just a shishkabug, But they never come up here.” He mumbled to himself. “Doesn’t matter. I guess I could eat.” He put down the shovel and stood over the bush. He watched for any sign of the snak coming out. Without his net he’d have to be fast and strike at the slightest movement

When the snak poked its head out Wambus leaned over the bush and struck-

“Strabby! S-st-Strabby!”

“What in tarnation?” Wambus said as he held up the white strabby as It wiggled and squirmed in his paws “you ain’t no darn shishkabug!”

The two stared at each other “well I haven’t had a white strabby in a while .” He shrugged as he opened his mouth to swallow it whole.

“Oh wamby, when will you and Gramble make up?” Triffany’s words echoed in his head.

he stopped and looked at the strabby in front of him. “Hmf, I don’t think Gramble has a white strabby yet. I guess you could be a gift of sorts. Maybe put us on better terms.”

“Strabby…”

Wambus stuffed the strabby under his hat. “Hush.” He picked up his shovel and made his way back to snaxburg.

— — —

By the time he got back to town the sun had finished setting and everyone was asleep. He stood on the cliff that sat over Snaxburg. “Guess yer goin’ off s the donation box.” He said as he fixed his hat. “Would’ve liked to give it to em in person.”

He made his way down to his house when his eyes caught a familiar orange grumpus sneaking around Gramble’s barn. “Gramble should be asleep by now…” she whispered

“Is he now?” Wambus said gruffly

“OH DARLING!” Wiggle yelped as she turned to face him “oh it’s just you wambus…”

“Mhm… why you up this late?”

“Oh uhhh… just saying good night to my muse. So why are YOU up this late???”

He gestured to the shovel in his paw “Bringn’ some equipment back home,” then pulled the white strabby from his hat. “n’ leavin’ a donation.”

Wiggle gasped “a donation?! I thought you hated Gramble and his delectable snaks!”

Wambus shrugged “Tryin’ to hate him less n’ I think Triffany would like it.” He walked over to the donation box “Night.”

“WAIT!!” Wiggle called out

Wambus pulled the strabby away from the box. “There a problem?”

“Uh… yes. I think Gramble would like it if it was given to him in person! Hand me that delicious strabby and I’ll give it to him. I’ll be sure to tell him it was from you.” She said with a wide smile

“Alright,” he handed her the snak “as long as it gets to him, I don’t mind”

“Trust me Wambus, you're doing the right thing!” She said as she stared at quivering snak, she licked her lips as she did.

And with that wambus made his way back to his hut. He dropped the shovel off we’re he kept the rest of his supplies, took off his hat and vest then laid down in bed. He wrapped his arms around Triffany who was already fast asleep.

Hopefully tomorrow things will be nicer between him and Gramble… hopefully.

#bugsnax #art #digital art #digital illustration #procreate #cute #fandom #bugsnax wambus #wambus troubleham #bugsnax fanfic #fanfic #bugsnax gramble #gramble gigglefunny #bugsnax wiggle #wiggle wigglebottom

[amhrosina]

MCU Men Raising Kids With You (Pregnancy Headcanons//Pt.5)

MASTERLIST // TAG LIST REQUEST FORM

A/N: This is the 5th and final part of this mini-series. I have loved writing these and even got some ideas for more headcanons! If you have any headcanons/characters in mind, send me a message! I hope you enjoy!

Link to Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Frank Castle:

A year after you have Lucy, you find out you’re pregnant again. 

Frank is over the moon when you find out it’s another girl. 

Frank as a girl dad oh my GOD the thought of it makes me cry 

You give birth to Lila Castle a few months before Lucy turns two. Frank cries just as hard the second time around. 

You eventually end up buying a house a little outside of the city, just far enough for the schools to be better, but not so far that you can’t get there on a short train ride.  

On Lucy’s first day of school, you and Frank put on a brave face for the drop-off, but as soon as you get back to the car, you’re both holding each other and crying on the other’s shoulder. They just grow up so darn fast. 

The next year, when Lila’s first day comes around, you’re both expecting it to be a little easier. You’re both wrong. 

Lila has always been the more independent one out of your two kids, so when you go to walk her to her classroom, she slips her hand out of yours and walks towards her teacher without any prompting from you. She doesn’t even look back, just waves her hand and walks into the classroom. 

You don’t even make it to the car before you’re ugly crying into Frank’s chest. 

Lucy is more like you – affectionate, giving, and quiet. Her favorite movie is Soul, and her favorite thing to do, besides reading of course, is watch her dad play guitar.  

Lila is like her dad – stoic, charming, and never afraid to speak her mind. She’s sassy, but she’s still young enough for it to be cute. Frank swears up and down she gets that from you, but you’ve heard Frank in tough situations before, and Lila’s attitude is all Frank. 

When the girls are old enough, Frank tells them about Lisa and Frank Jr. They ask a lot of questions, even random ones like “What were their favorite colors?” but end up cuddling their dad for hours after.  

When Frank comes to bed, he’s sentimental and a little teary-eyed still. You hold him and kiss him throughout the night. 

When the girls get a little older, you and Frank have to ride the wave of living with two pre-teen girls under one roof. 

Frank spends entirely too long trying to reason with them when they’re fighting with each other, but eventually just huffs and cuddles up next to you. 

“I think you’re the only person in this house that likes me right now.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

When Lucy has her first date, Frank is wound up like you’ve never seen before. 

“Frank, she’s 16. She’s allowed to go to the movies with a boy. Don’t worry about it, okay? If he gets handsy, she knows where to aim her fist. We have to give her a little freedom.” 

Frank spends the entire time she’s gone pacing around the house, flicking on light switches and then flicking them off again. You watch him watch the clock as it ticks closer to Lucy’s curfew. 

When she gets home, the tears in her eyes have both you and Frank very concerned. 

When she reveals the boy got mad at her for not wanting to kiss him, Frank looks capable of murder. Frank’s Punisher days are long behind him, but in that moment, you swear you see a sliver of the Frank you had met all those years ago. 

You’re the one that talks him off the ledge after Lucy goes to bed.  

“Frank, we cannot murder a teenager. That’s a line we’re not crossing.” 

You’re half joking, because obviously you and Frank will not be murdering anyone, but the look in Frank’s eyes is a little too familiar from the wild nights you shared in Hell’s Kitchen. 

“We? Who’s we?” 

“You really think I’d let you go after the boy that made our daughter cry by yourself? Hell no. I’m the first in line. Now, go to bed you angry beautiful man. We’ll deal with this in the morning.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Lucy and Lila end up becoming best friends once they reach their junior and senior years in high school. You think it’s because Lila’s going to miss Lucy when she goes off to college next year, but Frank says it’s because they know how important family is. You decide you’re both probably right. 

Matt Murdock:

Matty loves being a dad sOoOoOoOo much. 

He always finds ways of working them into his conversations, even if it’s with potential clients or the guy working the hot dog stand on the corner.  

He bets you $50 that Elias will be the first one to walk, but Rosalie puts his $50 to shame when she gets up and wobbles over to meet him after he gets home from work. 

Matt literally melts into the floor, like he is so proud of her. Elias soon follows, and then your lives get harder because two mini humans just got a lot more mobile.  

The twins have Matt’s stubbornness, but your tranquility. They will refuse to eat anything that remotely resembles a vegetable, but they won’t throw fits about it. They’ll just sit there, arms crossed, and lips pressed together, shaking their heads. 

Elias’ first word is “Foggy”, and Foggy hasn’t shut up about it since it happened. 

When Rosalie shows an interest in martial arts, Matt is overjoyed. He takes her to every single practice and even coaches her on the weekends.  

Elias has the athleticism of his father, so he eventually ends up in both soccer and baseball. Matt makes sure he’s at every practice, even forcing a client to meet him on the soccer field one time. Call this man Mr. Soccer Mom. He’s got a hat and everything. 

When Rosalie lets her curiosity get the best of her and she stumbles upon Matt’s Daredevil costume, Matt has to have a very long and difficult conversation with the twins. 

Matt doesn’t patrol all that much anymore, but he’s Matt, so of course he manages to find himself in the middle of trouble all the time. 

He hasn’t come home battered or bloody in ages, but you still wake up in the middle of the night sometimes and find him perched on the edge of the bed, listening. 

“Matty, is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart, ‘m fine. It’s not so much the sirens anymore. Sometimes I just listen to the twins breathing to make sure they’re safe.” 

You know hearing the rhythmic sound of his family’s heartbeats puts the devil inside Matt at bay, so you coax him back into bed and pull his head to your chest. 

We all know Matt is a certified soft!boy, but when it comes to his kids, he’s straight up mush. 

Rosalie brings her “What I Want to be When I Grow Up” project home and when Matt sees that her answer is lawyer, because she wants to help people like her dad, he’s reduced to tears. 

Foggy showing up to Elias’ games with a giant cardboard cutout of Elias’ head. 

The twins are inseparable throughout high school, but they do have their own groups of friends, which you’re eternally grateful for. 

Matt loves it when they bring their friends over because he wants the twins to have the “cool dad” of the friend group. 

Rosalie ends up being her class Valedictorian, and she gives her graduation speech on overcoming adversity. She recounts stories about her dad, the blind lawyer who did everything people said he couldn’t, and Matt is, I kid you not, crying so hard behind those red glasses that you have to keep handing him new tissues every 30 seconds. 

Foggy is a blubbering mess throughout the entire ceremony. 

On your last night before the twins head off to different colleges, you host a big family dinner (Foggy & Karen included). Matt spends the evening clutching your hand like it’s a lifeline. 

You all end up falling asleep on the couches in the living room watching a movie and cuddled together as a family.

Billy Russo:

Billy never really had any parental figures in his life, so becoming a parent to Theo is something he really wants to get right. 

Billy’s main focus shifts from work to his family, and he continues to follow through on the promise he made you when you were pregnant with Theo. 

He always puts his family first, above everything else in his life, but you assure him that he’s allowed to be passionate about his work too. 

Theo is about the sweetest toddler you’ve ever seen, constantly looking for affection from both you and Billy. 

He’ll latch onto Billy’s leg as soon as Billy gets home from work and crawl into your lap anytime you sit down for longer than 30 seconds. 

Theo loves going to work with Billy, and one time you even see Theo mimicking Billy running his hands through his hair in frustration over a work invoice. 

Theo might have Billy’s personality, but he looks like your little mini-me. 

Billy and you spend your 5-year wedding anniversary with Theo at Disney World. 

Billy looks adorable in the Mickey Mouse ears. 

You and Billy both decide that your family of three is perfect, so you don’t try to have any more kids, but that doesn’t stop Billy from worshipping you every night after Theo goes to bed. 

He thanks you all the time for giving him a second chance to be a father to Theo and husband to you. 

When Theo starts fifth grade, he tells you he wants to try football. 

Billy is so enthusiastic about it that it becomes a tradition for him and Theo to get up early on Saturday and practice for a couple hours. 

Theo is good at football, but his real talent lies in his art. Throughout middle school, you watch his skills go above and beyond what any 12-year-old should be capable of. 

Your favorite drawing of his ends up being a sketch of you and Billy sitting on the roof of your building, watching the sunrise. Your head is resting on Billy’s shoulder, and Billy’s head is resting on top of yours. A blanket is wrapped around both of you. You didn’t even know Theo was awake and sketching the scene until you turn around to leave and very nearly fall on your ass out of terror. 

The drawing is framed and hanging in your foyer. 

Theo’s sweet disposition follows him as he gets older. By the time he’s a sophomore, he swears his favorite thing to do is make homemade pizza with you and his dad every Friday night.  

You know Theo has friends because he hangs out with them and brings them around all the time, but you refuse to mention them on Fridays when all Theo wants to do is cook together as a family. 

Billy doesn’t know how he managed to raise such a sweet kid, but you remind him that he’s a sweet guy, and Theo looks at him like he hung the moon, so it shouldn’t be that surprising. 

When Theo finds out he got into a great art school, you and Billy pull him into a group hug and jump around your kitchen in excitement.  

On the day Theo is set to move into his dorm, Billy tries his best to hold in his tears on the drive there, but once you both hug him goodbye and make it back to the car, you’re both crying so hard that you have to sit in the parking lot for an hour before one of you can drive home. 

The train ride to see him is only an hour, so you and Billy make trips out to that side of the city all the time. 

Billy reveals that he never thought about what kind of family he’d have one day because he never thought he’d have one, but he’s so grateful that you and Theo showed him what family is supposed to be. 

Bucky Barnes:

Bucky is daddy in every sense of the word. 

If he could wear a “Proud Dad” shirt everywhere, he would. 

Jessie’s first Christmas is an emotional affair for everyone involved. Before Jessie, you and Bucky acknowledged Christmas a holiday, but never really celebrated it. When Jessie was born, though, you both wanted to make it something special for your family. 

Getting a visual of Bucky hauling a big ass christmas tree across the tree lot with the metal arm. 

Even though Jessie won’t be old enough to remember any of the details, you still wrap his presents and address them to Jessie, from Santa. 

You get Bucky a pair of socks that say “Grumpy Old Man” on the sides of them and laugh so hard when you’re trying to wrap them that Bucky is very concerned about what could be hidden in the wrapping paper. 

Your first Christmas with Jessie is so magical, and you both promise to make every year afterwards as special as possible. 

Around Jessie’s third birthday, Bucky and you discuss having another kid, but quickly do away with the idea when Bucky recounts how terrified he was during your pregnancy. You’re both happy with Jessie and have enough time to change your minds if that’s what you want to do. 

Jessie’s first day of school is a little hysterical, if you’re honest. Bucky and you walk Jessie to his classroom and introduce yourself to the teacher, like normal, but as soon as the moms in the room lay their eyes on Bucky, it’s game over. 

You watch as he is bombarded with introductions from the moms, who are so interested in his metal arm. You can’t even find it in yourself to get jealous, because you’ve never seen Bucky so nervous in your life. Gone was the charming, flirty Bucky you had met and fallen in love with. The man in front of you was a terrified kitten surrounded by hungry alligators. 

You laugh about it the entire way home, much to Bucky’s chagrin, who is grumpy for the rest of the morning. 

Needless to say, he stuck directly to your side when he had to make classroom appearances after that. 

When Jessie comes home one day in middle school and asks his dad to come talk to his class about being a Veteran, Bucky is a little taken aback. Being a Veteran is not something he talks about often, but Jessie thinks it’s very honorable and cool, so Bucky shows up and gives a talk. 

One of the students asks how strong his metal arm is, and Bucky shows them in the most Bucky way possible, by asking as many as can fit to hang off of his arm. 

Jessie is officially the coolest guy in school by the end of the day. 

Bucky still isn’t used to the PTA moms and their advances, but he’s learned how to avoid them 95% of the time. 

Jessie gets really into baseball when he reaches high school age, so Bucky takes him out to the field every weekend and teaches him how to play. 

Jessie’s not the best on the team, but he makes great friends and loves playing, so you and Bucky are very supportive. 

Bucky loves seeing the jersey with “Barnes” on the back of it.  

“It’s the American Dream, baby. Nothin’ better than a game of baseball.” 

You and Bucky are lucky enough to be able to travel with the team when they have away games, so every other week you’re in another city cheering Jessie and his team on. 

You and Bucky call baseball night “date night” because you both love it so much. 

In Jessie’s final game his senior year, Bucky is in tears as Jessie hits the game winning ball over the back fence. 

The life you and Bucky built together is unconventional, and maybe strange to other people, but you wouldn’t trade it, or him, for the world. 

Peter Parker (Tom Holland):

Peter and you both eventually graduate college around May’s 4th birthday. The struggle for money was present the whole time, but Peter’s genius brain ends up landing him a great job in a lab, where he gets to study and create all day long and then bring home a pretty hefty paycheck. 

You end up taking a job teaching at a gifted school in Manhattan, where they offer daycare services to the staff for free. 

As soon as the money starts coming in, the pressure on both of your shoulders start to lift. You can afford a bigger apartment now, (plenty of room for growth lol), and May likes that it’s so close to the park. 

May’s favorite super-hero happens to be Spider-Man, even though she has no idea that her own dad is the guy in the suit. 

Peter definitely lets this fact go to his head. 

May is a very social child – she'll say hi to everyone out in public and get frustrated when they don’t say it back. 

Around May’s 5th birthday, you and Peter decide you’d be okay with another child, but it’s not something you’re actively trying for. If it happens, it happens, ya know? 

Two months later your period is late, and you immediately know you’re pregnant again. 

When you find out it’s a boy, Peter is so excited that he goes out a buys another spiderman onesie for the new baby.  

May is so so excited to be a big sister and even suggests the name Leo, which is the name you and Peter end up going with. 

Raising two kids is somehow a little easier than raising just one, but you think it’s mainly because you both have decent paychecks and you’ve already done the whole baby thing before. 

May joins theater in middle school and Peter is so into the plays that he starts coaching her on her monologues, even though he’s never acted in a play before. 

Leo is the eternal baby of the family, which frustrates May to no end. You and Peter treat both kids fairly, but that doesn’t keep the two of them from arguing over everything.  

At one point, Peter moves the living room gaming console into your bedroom because the kids won’t stop fighting over it. You and him accidentally end up playing Mario Kart until 4 o’clock in the morning. You’re both exhausted the next day, but it was so fun that you don’t regret it for a second. 

Eventually, the kids suspect something is up with their dad, who has gotten sort of lazy about hiding his super-hero identity from them. 

When Leo finds a tube of web fluid in your bathroom, Peter has to come clean to the kids about who he is and what he does. 

May thinks it is the absolute coolest thing ever about her dad. 

Peter has to have a heart-to-heart with her about keeping the secret, even from her closest friends. She crosses her heart and promises to never tell a soul. 

That doesn’t stop her and Leo from talking about it. You overhear them one night, up way past their bedtimes, wondering which building is the highest one Spider-Man has swung off of. 

Peter and the kids sometimes sneak off to play their own version of tag which involves using web shooters. 

Peter’s had to call you more than once to have you bring web dissolving fluid after they run out of it and Leo’s leg is still suck to a wall. 

When May graduates high school, it’s a big adjustment for everyone in the house. She moves into an apartment with her friends, closer to her city job, and Peter definitely takes it the hardest. 

When Leo graduates, the empty nest syndrome hits you and Peter hard, but at least you have each other and the life you’ve built together. 

End Note: This document ended up being seven pages long, which is like three more pages than usual for this series. I really hope the people who have read all of them loved and enjoyed watching these families grow like I did! Keep an eye out for more!! I love writing these.

Tag List:

@purple-amaranthe  @raajali3 @kokoterainonago666 @minervadashwood  @emiemiemiii  @h4rrys @mylifeispainandiloveit  @alexxavicry  @hallecarey1  @km-ffluv @mossexe @knight-core @alina02 @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt

(Also tagging the people who asked for specific character tags below!)

@xleiaorgana @dilfs5678 @blackwidownat2814 @mymamalife @messymissy @soft-emo-enby @brookiecookiez0 @raajali3

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle headcanon #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock headcanon #billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #billy russo headcanons #matt murdock headcanons #frank castle headcanons #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes headcanons #bucky barnes headcanon #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker headcanons #peter parker headcanon #peter parker #frank castle #billy russo #bucky barnes #matt murdock #requested #frank castle imagine #matt murdock imagine #billy russo imagine #peter parker imagine #tom holland peter parker

[s0dium]

Omfg hello, friend!!! Just saw your dilf!Bokuto blog n I gotta say, <333. Yup that’s it, that’s the tweet.

Anyway, I have some suggests/reqs if you don’t mind;

Dilf!Iwaizumi, he’s busy, right, but he somehow always makes time for his children, his daughters are his priority always. Poor man is a divorcee, his needs have not been met for a while. He takes an interest in a fellow athletic trainer at his gym, n decided that he wasn’t too old to have a fuck buddy.

Something like this!! Sorry my brain just ran dry as I wrote this 🤪

A/n: YESIIRRRR, I changed it so y/n isnt an althetic trainer but they meet at the gym and she is a baby sitter.

Warnings: Breeding, pre-ejactulation

Dilf Iwa who is a big guy, towering at 6 feet with toned muscles from years of training

Dilf Iwa who is just the picture perfect dad, always making time for his daughters, always packs their lunch and picks them up from school, all the moms and teachers fawn over him.

Dilf Iwa who is just so damn tired though :( he wants to relax, a helping hand with the kids would never hurt. He's tired of spending the nights alone, with only his hand for comfort.

Dilf iwa who meets you at the gym. He's seen you here before, you'd usually be picking up kids from swim practice or karate, something like that. And now here you are, trying to figure out how to use some leg machine which you cant figure out for the life of you.

Dilf iwa who is so helpful and the two of you get to talking. He picks up on the way your eyes light up when he mentions he isnt married

Dilf iwa takes you out on a few dates first, lets you get comftorable with a man as big as him before bringing you to his house

Dilf iwa who looses his mind when he finally gets to bury is dick inside of you. Its been so gosh darn long for him, and your just so warn and tight

Dilf iwa who lasts only a few minutes, giving up to your exquisite heat too fast but is ready to go again in seconds

Dilf iwa who says he 'forgot' a condom and spills himself in you over and over, so when he pulls out globs of cum pours out of you

Dilf Iwa who believes in love looking at how pretty you look sleeping so peacefully the morning after

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #iwazumi smut #iwazumi x reader #iwa smut #iwa x reader

[cevansbrat0007]

The Curious Case of the Chicken McNuggets

Summary: You sneak out one night to satisfy a late night craving, with every intent to make it back before your overly tired husband wakes up. Also, check out Andy’s P.O.V. 

*Warnings: Implied Smut, Manhandling, Pregnant!Reader, Brat!Reader, Angry Andy, Light Spanking, Overstimulation (mentioned), Chicken Nuggets, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Growing Pains Series. Semi-proofread. Not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

---

You stare at the ceiling trying to talk yourself out of what you knew was pretty much inevitable. For a moment, you thought about waking your sleeping husband and asking him to go for you, but it was late. Just after midnight. And he’d been working such long hours lately that, truthfully, you just didn’t have the heart. 

But you desperately wanted chicken nuggets. Specifically a twenty-piece McNugget from McDonald’s. With honey mustard. All of the honey mustard. And some fries. 

You look over at Andy as your mental debate wages on. There was a 24-hour McDonald’s just down the street. And you were pretty sure that you could make it there and back without your husband ever noticing. That way he could sleep and you could eat. 

Decision made, you slip out of bed. Out of habit, your hand goes to rub your baby bump. At six months along, your belly was pretty darn big. But you loved it. You weren’t waddling or anything like that yet, but you knew those days were coming sooner rather than later. 

“Mmm.” You hear Andy stir. “Where you going, baby?” The sound of his raspy voice makes you smile.

“Bathroom, honey. And then to get some water. I’ll be right back. Go on back to sleep.” The first part isn’t a lie. You were going to the bathroom. Mostly because your baby girl loved sitting on your bladder like it was her own personal lawn chair. 

“Okay, see you in a min…” His deep voice trails off as he dozes off again. Good.

You take your time going to the bathroom, not that you were super fast these days anyway. By the time you’re done, your Andy Bear is totally fast asleep again. Time for some McNuggets.

Snagging your phone from the nightstand, you sneak downstairs to grab your keys and purse. And then you’re out the door. Those crispy, golden chicken chunks were almost within reach. Jumping in the car, you raise the garage door, put it in drive, and set out on your journey. There was no time to waste, damn it!

Ten minutes later, you make it your destination. You do a little dance in your car as you pull up to the drive-thru speaker. “Welcome to McDonald’s. Can I take your order?”

“Hi, yes! Can I please get a twenty piece Chicken McNugget? And can you be sure they’re fresh? Sorry to be a pain, but I’m kinda super pregnant….and I need this.” You wince a little, knowing you sounded needy. But your meal needed to be fresh for maximum enjoyment.

“Sure thing, ma’am. No problem. We’ll drop them fresh for you. Would you like to make it a meal?”

Ah, thank the Lord on high.

“Yes, please. With a Sprite. Thank you so much!” 

“And your sauce?”

“Honey mustard. I’m going to need at least four, please. It’s a thing.”

She gives you your total and then you pay. And then they have you park in a loading zone or something to wait while they cook your food. Fuck, you were so damned happy!

While it takes a little longer than you would have liked, eventually you have your food. You delicately place it in your passenger seat. You even briefly debate draping the seatbelt over it. No. That would be too much.

You race home. Becoming super excited the moment you pull back into the garage and kill the engine. Grabbing your bag of goodies and your drink, you exit your vehicle as fast as you can and head into the house. Jiminy Crickets, this had been a fantastic decision!

Food in hand, you head towards the kitchen, only to see that all of the lights are on. Wait. You hadn’t done that. You set your bag on the kitchen table as you try to muddle your way through your confusion. 

And then in strolls a shirtless, very pissed off Andy. 

“Um, hi honey!” You squeak. Just that fast you regret not getting him anything. “What are you doing up?”

“I don’t know.” He growls, his muscles flexing. “What were you doing out?”

Feeling mildly brave, mostly because your pregnancy cravings didn’t understand the concept of fear, you fish out your box of nuggets and pop one in your mouth. “I…I got hungry.”

Andy leans his big body against the counter, his hands going into his pockets of his maroon sleep pants. “See, I know I was half asleep at the time, but my hearing is pretty damn excellent. Did you or did you not tell me that you were going to the bathroom and then to grab a glass of water? Isn’t that what you said?”

Ahh crap. Your husband was going into attorney mode. 

“Would you like a nugget? I’ll share. Oh, and they’re fresh! Plus, I have honey mustard.” You try.

No dice. 

His nostrils flare as he glares at you. “Answer my goddamned question, baby.” Clearly he would not be swayed. Which sucked, because all you really wanted to do was eat your food and go back to bed.

 “Yes, that may have been what I said. And, in my defense, I did go to the bathroom. But see, I had been up for a good hour or so craving some McDonald’s and I didn’t want to wake you -”

“So you lie to me and sneak out of the house.” He interrupts. It seems like your man’s Boston accent gets thicker with every word. 

“I wanted to let you sleep.” You mumble as you gaze longingly at a packet of honey mustard. Throwing caution to the wind, you grab it and rip the foil so you can dunk another delicious nugget. “Are you sure you don’t want one, baby? Or some fries, maybe?” 

“Do you realize that I had no idea where you were, Y/N? I searched this whole house for you. And then I saw that your keys and purse were gone. And the whole time, I’m thinking to myself, where the fuck could my wife have gone at this hour?”

“Andy, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I really just wanted you to rest. And I was really hungry. Please don’t be mad.”

“Too goddamned late.” He hisses. When he starts to approach you, you pick up your food and begin to maneuver around the table. Why couldn’t your big man just let you eat in peace?   

“You get hungry at night? Then you wake me up and have me go get it, you stubborn little brat.” He snarls. 

“Hey! I wasn’t being a brat. I was trying to take care of you and myself and -”

“You know how I feel about your safety!” He yells. His booming voice echoes throughout the room. “You want something to eat this late, then you wake me the fuck up, little girl. What you do not do is sneak out of our house after midnight without letting me know where you’re going!”

Andy continues to circle around the table like a panther stalking his prey in his attempt to get to you. You felt like you were being fucking hunted, but it still didn’t stop you from popping another bite of chicken into your mouth. 

“Baby, if you weren’t six months pregnant, I would have you bent over my knee right now.” His voice is rough with emotion. “And I would blister your ass. Swear to God, you would not be able to sit. For a long fucking time.” 

You feel yourself pale at his words. 

“Andy, I said I was sorry. And I am. Next time, I’ll wake you and we’ll ride together. I promise. Please just let this pregnant woman enjoy her chicken nuggets before they get cold.”

You decide to take a risk and let him get close enough to grab you, which he does. And then you shove a nugget into his mouth. He gives you an evil look, but he proceeds to chew and swallow. You repeat the action, this time with fries. And then you hold out your Sprite to him.

“Wash it down?” You whisper. Which he does, his eyes never leaving yours. When he’s finished, you sit your drink onto the table. Your teeth go to nibble your lower lip. 

“I really am sorry, Andy. I won’t do it again.” 

“No, you won’t.” He takes you into his arms. And then he proceeds to deliver a series of very hard swats to your ass. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” You screech with each smack. It’s not like one of your usual spankings. You’re standing, your pants and underwear stay up, and he’s holding you…almost tenderly. 

Cupping your chin with his hand, Andy forces you to meet his eyes. His thumb brushes away a stray tear. “Do not do this again, young lady. Do you hear me?”

You whimper softly.

“I made a promise to you the night you told me you were pregnant, did I not?”

You nod.

“Whatever you want, you get. But what you do not do, not ever, is sneak out of this house in the middle of the night and leave me to wonder about where you are. I’m too young yet to be having heart palpitations. Are we clear?”

You nod again. His grip tightens on your jaw. “I need the words. More specifically, I need to hear a yes, Daddy.”

“Ye-yes, Daddy.” 

Andy smiles then, his hands going to caress your slightly bruised backside. Your husband had given you way worse spankings in the past, so you knew that you had truly gotten off light this time. And only because you were pregnant.

“Finish your food, Y/N, so I can take you back upstairs. And then you’re going to lay back and offer your sweet little body to me by way of apology. You owe me at least four orgasms for your misbehavior, and that is non negotiable. And let me be clear, I don’t care how long it takes, because apparently I need to teach you that no matter how tired I am, you always come first.”

His eyes glaze over as he continues. “You’re going to cum on my mouth, on my fingers, on my cock...baby I’m going to wreck you.”

You clear your throat, unsure of what to say.

“Now eat. You’re going to need your strength, honey.” He leans forward to kiss your nose. “Also, I’m taking the day off tomorrow. So if you don’t give me what I want tonight, I’ll make sure you give it to me tomorrow. And trust me when I say…” 

He grabs your ass again and squeezes.

“If that happens, I plan to add to the tally.”

END

#Chris Evans #andy barber #chris evans smut #andy barber smut #chris evans black!reader #andy barber black!reader #chris evans woc!reader #andy barber woc!reader #chris evans imagines #andy barber imagines #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber fanfiction #Cevansbrat0007 fic #cevansbrat0007growing pains series

[therewasatale]

‘m fine

On Ao3.

Summary: After decades the puppets have to do something about their sick and very stubborn human. Thankfully, they get some help on the way, and only one door gets destroyed.

Notes: I got some requests for a sickfic. I hope I gave it justice. Enjoy!

He just had to fix this door, change the hatches and put it back. This one task and finally he could get some rest and sleep until the morning. But damn his headache worsened with every second. Those annoying coughs wouldn't stop no matter how hard he tried to keep them down.  

Gordon knew he was a stubborn bastard; this was the reason why they sent him here at the first place, to shut down the antenna. He didn't care about the people and their fancy places, only to do his job and get out of there as fast as possible. And it was the same when he came here the first time too.

He felt his body shiver as the cold ran through him. Again, he had to stop to cough. It was an annoying barking cough and he needed to lean against one of the sets' walls to take some breath. His head felt light, his body sometimes shivered, and his throat felt like sandpaper. But he needed to fix the door so they could walk-through it in the new episodes.

Finally, he felt the gentle poke on his shoulder.

"Mh? Oh, hey, Pearl. I am just a little tired." Gordon rubbed his forehead; his skin was way warmer than it should have been. "I'll finish soon, don't worry."

The giant bird-puppet watched the human, in fact she did that since he had started working and she became worried after the first heavy cough that made Gordon stop in the work. Again, she gently poked Gordon's arm and the nodded to the nearest bench.

"Hm? Oh, I don't need to sit down, if I do I might-" but he cut his sentence half, he really shouldn't say something scary to them, like the fact that he would probably pass out. They seemed to be very sensitive and worried every time something happened to him. The last time when he accidentally cut his hand, he ended up with multiple layers thick coat of bandages on his arm. "I, well-" he tried to clear his throat when a cough started again. "God darn it."

Pearl gently pinched the human's cloths with her beak and pulled him away. He gave a somewhat surprised yelp.

"Hey? What? All right, I sit down a bit." His legs gave in and leaned against the back of the bench. Hell, his whole body felt like shit. He wasn't even sure how he will get back home. Maybe he could sleep in one of the office rooms. "Thank you, Pearl." He glanced up, and carefully patted the bird's head as she lent closer.

The two wings of the door opened at the side of the stage.

"And here we are!"

Gordon didn't even need to look at the source of the voice, he would recognize Ricky's voice everywhere, and only one puppet had such ground shaking steps.

"What are you two doing here?" He asked as Goblette and Ricky approached him.

"The more important question is what are you doing here, Gordy? You're clearly sick!" Ricky was sitting in one of Goblette's hands, and in front of him was an one open book. "Lets see-"

"What's that?"

"A first aid book," answered the puppet as he turned a page with his nose. "You don't seem to bleed from everywhere."

"No kidding," Gordon scoffed but immediately regretted it as a sudden bout of hammer like headache made him wince.

"Let's check if he has a fever, hm we don't have a thermometer so, we can do it by touching the person's forehead." Ricky read out loud from the book.

And before Gordon could do anything a gigantic hand locked around his entire head. It was actually nice, most of the puppets were colder than the humans. Goblette's hand helped ease his headache for a couple of seconds. He didn't even realise the grateful murmur that escaped him.

Ricky, on the other hand glanced as Goblette, who slowly nodded. So, their human actually had a fever.

Pearl next to them stood from one leg to the other worriedly, and the other puppets around the sets watched them from far.

"I'm fine," mumbled Gordon as his head was released. "I just-, I just-" he needed to start the sentence three times before the coughing stopped. "Just need to fix the door and then you can go home, darn it. I'm almost done."

"Working? What? No!" Ricky shook his head and almost his entire body aswell. "You need a doctor, Gordon."

"I'll be fine, Ricky. It's just probably the flu or maybe just a simple cold." The human waved it off and tried to stand but, only to get gently pushed back by Pearl. "Come on, I don't have time to get sick. I need to finish this door, Ricky." He tried to look up at them, but his throbbing head made it very difficult.

"What you need is a doctor. George!"

The long-armed puppet showed up next to them. "Yes?"

"We're going to get a doctor," Ricky climbed over to his shoulder.

"Yes!"

"I don't need a doctor." He mumbled but of course no one listened to his scratched voice.

"Goblette, can you please bring him to a more comfortable place?"

She tilted her head a bit, then nodded.

"Good, we will back as soon as we can! Onward, George!"

"Yes!"

And off they ran through one of the doors, leaving the blinking human and the remaining worried puppets behind.

Gordon felt their eyes on him, and tried his best to look less than shit than he was actually feeling himself. Unfortunately, the last of his remaining strength failed him. Even the lights' shining around him seemed to stung his eyes and worsened his headache.

"I'll be fine on a couch," Gordon slowly stood up. "Don't worry Gob-WOAH!"

Goblette carefully put down the book from her left, just so she could take the human in to her arms.

"I can walk!" Gordon felt his face turning reader, as he was carried. "Goblette, come on, put me down." But he only got a meaningful look as an answer. "I-, you can't just-" a tired sigh escaped him. Well, he never had a lot of dignity in his life, and the remaining wasn’t much use in his daily life, so losing it might not be that bad. He accepted his faith; he didn't want to risk to hurt the puppet's body if he tried to struggle out of her hands.

Norman hurried next to them and opened the door for Goblette so she could walk out from the main stage. "There ya go, bring him to a big bed, will ya, Goblette?"

Goblette nodded, after years, this one was the most important task in her puppet life. To make sure this human would be safe.

"'m fine," mumbled Gordon as he leaned against the giant puppet. His pride would never let him admit how nice it was to be carried. "Just a bit under the weather," he didn't know when he closed his eyes, and he didn't realise as he fell asleep on the way.

 The next thing he felt was the gentle nudging on his left shoulder.

"Gordy, wake up sleepy head, the cavalry is here."

"Mh-, Ricky?"

"Ah, so you're waking up, good-good. Open your eyes."

"The hell are you doing in my home?" Gordon blinked, then closed his eyes as the room was slowly spinning around him. "Damn. And why are you in my bed?"

"In your bed? You're in our bed, in fact, Gordy. Wake up, we got the best doctor, he is-" he felt silent.

"My name is Dr. Clegane," an unfamiliar voice helped the sock-puppet out.

Finally, Gordon opened his eyes and looked around. He was lying in a bed. He would have admitted it was a very comfortable one, but it wasn't his in fact. It was in a large room, with three doors.

"Hey, Gordon, how are you?" Ricky got in his vision.

But the answer was only a tired grumble.

"Let me examine him," said the one who identified himself as Dr. Clegane. "Can you tell me your name, sir?"

"Gordon," he glanced up the man next to his bed. His was in his 40s maybe late 40s, short brown hair, warm but serious brown eyes and his clothes were clean. "Gordon O'Brian. Why are you here?"

"Your puppet friends found my clinic, I was about to close it, when they quiet literally broke down my door."

"We needed to find help," answered Ricky, almost embarrassed. "And George put it back into the doorframe all neat, it only the glass needed to change. And we said we're sorry."

"They indeed did. Can you tell me how old are you, sir?" Asked the doctor as he put a stethoscope around his neck and stepped closer at the edge of the bed.

"It depends, I think he's in the middle of his 50, but if we count the years it took to became such a cynic then he's probably close to be 126."

Both of them turned towards Ricky and gave him a look.

"I'm sorry, I'm becoming chatty when I'm nervous." Apologized the sock-puppet.

Gordon scoffed but immediately regretted it. Even that felt exhausting. "Damn-, yeah sure, Ricky. I'm 53, actually, and I'm fine, doc. Just caught some nasty bug, but a good night of sleep will fix me right up." He managed to halt the coughing at the end of his speech before it started.

"Even without examination I can already tell that's not really true, that cough did not sound pleasant. When did the symptoms started?"

"I don't know, maybe three days ago, I had a sore throat, but I didn't have the time to deal with it."

"Hm," Dr. Clegane took out a thermometer and placed it under Gordons armpit before checking his throat. He also measured his blood pressure and listened to his lungs. "I think you got a nasty flu, Mr. O'Brian." He took out the thermometer and shook his head.

"Gordon," he coughed into his elbow, "Gordon is fine."

"All right, Gordon, I can give you some pills, but your body needs to rest. The fever means your body already fighting the illness, but it will need time, and if you neglect to rest it will turn into serious pneumonia." He took out a bottle and gave two pills to Gordon.

"We can make sure he's sleeping." Spoke up Ricky. During the conversation he watched what the doctor was doing like a hawk. "And get him food, I remember how some of the stuff cooked, and ordered food. He needs to eat hot food, right? We can order pizza, that is hot."

Dr. Clegane smiled a bit, as he packed away his instruments "I think some soup would be the best in this time, or tea."

Like just a lightbulb turned on, Ricky moved his head side to side enthusiastically. "Oh yes, tea, now I remember. Tea is the miracle that can defeat the cold monsters inside the body!"

Gordon slowly blinked at the puppet. "What are you talking about?"

"I think he refers to one of their episodes," answered Dr. Clegane as he cut a piece of gauze and packed it into a small square. "Season two I recall, the 26th episode, when Martin got the cold and he couldn't enjoy anything for a while."

"Yes! That! You were a fan, doctor?" asked Ricky.

"I sometimes watched one or two episodes; the stories were innocent enough. It was a nice change for my younger self." Clegane began walking to one the doors. “I believe I seen a toiler here.”

While he was away the sock-puppet beamed at Gordon and gently nudged his shoulder with his head. "See? They need us."

"Yeah, yeah." Gordon raised his hand and put it on the puppets head. He knew he was getting light-headed, but it didn't bother him as much as any other time would.

Clegane walked back and put the now wet gauze on Gordon's forehead. "There, this could help with the fever until the pills take effect."

"Daaamn," the man let out a grateful mumble. "Thanks, Doc. You're a life-saver."

"You're welcome, but it's my job, and I didn't need to use a defibrillator either." Dr. Clegane glanced at sock-puppet with a mysterious smile.

"A defibrillator? Why would you-"

"I told you we watched some tv shows when everyone was away," Ricky didn't meet either of their eyes. "Documentum films, news, action movies, and once we save a series with doctors and everything. And there was that fibrillatory thingy, I'm not entirely sure how can it be used, but you looked really bad, Gordon and in the show it always worked. I had to make sure the doctor is ready for everything!" Ricky looked at his shoulder then glanced his left and right, like he always did when he was overcome with emotions. "And maybe I forgot some things from the episode about the cold, and sickness. It was a really long time ago. But we were just really worried and-" he went silent as Gordon gently patted his head.

"You're crazy, but I'm glad. Thanks, Ricky, you're a good friend."

The sock-puppet stared at him. "Dear heavens doctor, he must be really sick!"

Gordon snorted, but Dr. Clegane just smiled.

"I think he's just tired, Ricky. I'll go now, you and your friends can take care of him." He took out a small paper and wrote a couple of things before handing it to Ricky “I wrote up some antibiotics for him, get it tomorrow from the pharmacy down the road, he should take it for a week just in case. Can you, do it?”

"Yes, of course." Nodded the puppet whole-heartedly.

"I can take care of myself," Murmured Gordon weakly, mainly from pride, but it too got exhausted quickly. "Thanks everything, doc."

"You're welcome, Gordon."

"George will walk you out, Dr. Clegane. And sorry about the door, again."

The doctor waved it off, "You two were in great hurry. The door can be fixed. This time it was on me, but next time you have to replace it." He stopped in the door and glanced back over his shoulder. "Will the Neighborhood come back to television?"

"We're working on it." Ricky nodded and he was able to hear Gordon mumbling something similar.

"I'm glad, I always wanted to watch some new episodes with my daughter. Good luck." Dr. Clegane stepped out and closed the door behind him.

"He's a nice doctor," Ricky slid closer to him. "Do you need anything?"

Gordon waved a no, and focused on the cool feeling on his forehead. His headache finally became bearable, and it seemed the fever was slowly started to fade. After a couple of seconds, he blinked once, twice, then closed his eyes and just enjoyed the darkness, the soft bed under him and the sheets over him. Faintly he could make out the different voices of the puppets at the other side of the door.

"The others?" He mumbled already half-asleep.

"Outside, everybody wanted to make sure you're okay. For the last decades or so we haven't seen a sick human."

Gordon felt as a faint weight resting on his shoulders, he lifted his hand and gently patted Ricky's head. "I'll be okay, I just need to-" the end of the sentence turned into soft gentle snoring. His chest rose and sank with each deep breath. Sometimes he seemed to cough, however this didn’t wake him up.

Ricky listened and watched him for a while, just to be sure that their human friend was completely safe and all right.

#my friendly neighborhood #my friendly neighborhood fanfiction #ricky #Gordon O'Brian #goblette #copper #pearl my friendly neighborhood

[lullabyes22-blog]

Dating Sevika - Headcanons 🐉💕

You chose the Dragon of the Lanes. Goddamn you are brave. 

Mild NSFW

Dating Silco Headcanons 🦈💕

General Silco Headcanons here and here!  🦈  

Sevika the Dragon Mom  🐉

Jinx the Batshit Baby Bombshell  💣

First off - you don't approach her. She approaches you. Our Dragon Lady has a blunt style paired with an easygoing swagger. She knows what she likes, and knows what she has to offer. If you hitch your star to her wagon for the night, you'll get a boots-knockin' good time. If you turn her down? Your loss. She's got other takers. 

She's got an eye for shiny things. Her own sense of style is no-nonsense and durable; she wouldn't have it any other way. But she's drawn to glitz and glamor in her girls. For her boys, she likes them the way she likes her drinks. Cool, dark, with a tasty edge. Sharp dressers with killer attitudes get her motor revving.

She's a hard worker with a jam-packed schedule. As Silco's second-in-command, she also needs to stay on her toes in case of emergencies (i.e. Jinx). But she's not some high-strung stickler for rules. She knows when to take some downtime. As her latest conquest, you are her downtime. Afterward, if the crew ask where she’s been, she'll smile enigmatically and say, "Busy." 

She's not sentimental about sex. She treats it the way brawlers treat a sparring session. A chance to work out the kinks, loosen the muscles, and clock in practice. Expect matter-of-fact consideration, but not a lot of tenderness or sentiment. Afterward, she'll pat your back, say, "That was great," then roll off to take a shower. Cuddles aren't her thing. 

Kissing is, though. This lady is the Supreme Queen of slow makeouts. Knows just how to use tongue and lips and teeth until her partner’s toes curl and they're panting for more. You won't get it right away, though. She enjoys being a bit of a tease. 

She's got no tolerance for screw-ups. Ditto for tardiness. Definitely one of those No Excuses types. If you're late for a lunch with her one too often, or can't seem to get your shit together, she'll drop you like a hot potato. She's got enough messes to clean up for Zaun, without adding yours to her plate.

If she's serious about you, there's one way you'll know. She won't introduce you to her parents or anything oogie like that. But she will introduce you to Silco. Especially if you have talents that can play a valuable role in their mission. 

Careful though. Her tastes and the Eye of Zaun's are similar when it comes to playthings/paramours. Don't be shocked if Silco takes a low-key shine to you. Or if, a few months down the line, Sevika casually asks if you're comfortable with threesomes.

She's a badass brawler. But she's got a softer domestic side. She's competent at cooking and crafts. Will darn your socks or stitch up a hole in your jacket, then fix you a light snack afterward. Little acts like these are how she demonstrates that she cares.

Compliment her hard work, stable head and dependability. They are qualities she's honed to weather the roughest storms - and which she takes the most pride in. 

By nature, she's somewhat businesslike and solitary. Like most sumpsnipes, she grew up fast, without the chance for a real childhood. The sad offshoot is that she never got to goof off or have lots of gal pals. Offer to take her someplace relaxing - the beach, a spa, an ice rink. Someplace that combines physicality with closeness. She'll be low-key flustered, but also deeply pleased. 

She's one of those straight shooting types who prefers a night playing cards with the boys, or discussing business in Silco's office, to getting cuddly with you on the couch. You will, however, have to accept it. She's a soldier to her core. Zaun always comes first.

She prefers her day-to-day drama-free. But she's always working towards a bigger goal. Lackadaisical, dreamy or unambitious partners hold no appeal for her. She'll just pump 'em and dump 'em. She's attracted to drive, charisma and power. She also knows how to spot a winner, and won't hesitate to throw her support behind them. If you want her sticking around for the long-term, you'd better bring something big to the table.

Has a high libido. Likes sex several times a day, if she can get away with it. She's also naturally dominant, and has no qualms manhandling you and reducing you to putty with her mouth or fingers or her faithful strap-on. But if you somehow hold the cards in the dynamic, it's like a switch gets flipped. She will be soft as butter and submissive as hell. If she gets that way, don't be tentative. Boss her around. Get rough. Get nasty. The further you take it, the more satisfied she'll be.

 Unless you do something to royally piss her off, she'll likely remain on good terms with you even after ending the relationship. Greetings on the street, idle chitchat about your goings-on etc. In the end, she's a pragmatist whose priorities are loyalty and freedom, rather than passion and sentiment. Work stays front and center for her. The rest is just a crick in the neck.

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane league of lesbians #arcane headcanon #arcane netflix #arcane sevika #sevika #sevika headcanon #sevika my beloved #arcane silco #silco #sevika x reader

[stitchlingbelle]

Watching Halo, Episode 3

Welcome to Planet Recycle Hell, which I feel morally obligated to point out is not too darn different from a lot of the factory/ fast fashion/ greenwashing/ recycle grift economy we have now. Call your senators and make a difference, people! Ahem. Makee��s tragic backstory is revealed! I can see how she decided all humans suck, but quite honestly, how she thinks the Covenant is any better is beyond me. ESH, sweetie. Of course, I’ve seen the ship tag, I know things are going to get Complicated for her as soon as she leaves the bubble, so we’ll see…

More plotting by General Parangosky, trying and I’m sure failing to contain Halsey, as usual. I can’t really blame her for trying, but I extremely question her motives. Here’s hoping Miranda can do some good, I really like her (and would ADORE her getting to show up her mom.) (Meanwhile, am I the only one who thinks these uniforms have Royal Manticoran Navy vibes? They also remind me of the Army of Light from Babylon 5, but while the black color scheme there was meant to subvert expectations, I don’t think these are. Or that the UNSC are good guys to begin with.)

Halsey wakes the person in the pod and oh my God, there’s TWO of them now? I say, as I fall deeply, endlessly in love with Halsey’s clone. God, it’s nice to see someone call Halsey on her bs and clearly hold her own in their battle of wits (if not outright win, the way Halsey backs away from some of her questions.) I hope she sticks around, but the dialogue implies she knows she’s here to die.

Aaand here it comes. God, Halsey’s grooming of John is just endlessly creepy. Someone on the writing staff around here understands what grooming and abuse actually look like. And her goon (Adun?) shows a bit of personality at last by… almost kissing a woman he’s about to kill while she’s immobilized. Fuck this guy. I do think it’s fascinating that the clone doesn’t resist—even as the one on the chopping block, she seems dedicated to her/ Halsey’s goals, enough to die for them. That’s frankly terrifying. And die she does, in a scene that is in turns poignant (“Will it hurt?”), sickening (through her EYE?), and ridiculous (a convenient acid bath, seriously?).

And at last we meet Cortana! Immediately it’s clear she isn’t JUST a mind-clone of Halsey, which is interesting. You’d think Halsey would want Cortana to have her own personality (and possibly memories) to better control her; quite frankly without them I’m not sure what the clone had to die for, other than Hollywood handwavy Evil. If you have computers this advanced a scan would probably suffice, it's not like you put her brain in a jar. But movie logic is movie logic. On the upside, Cortana has a lot more room to grow on her own being based on Siri or whatever. And she’s going to need to grow, she doesn’t yet understand why anyone would have a problem with her and her bullheaded approach is going to be an issue as she tries to bond with the Master Chief. (In the meantime, their sniping is entertaining for us, the audience.)

Makee is kicking off her mission, pretending to be an escapee in nice clothes and flawless makeup with not a mark on her. I am deeply unconvinced. So are the UNSC crewers, which doesn’t save any of them, in a scene that is pure gross horror. (Obligatory Honor Harrington joke: “She shot stabbed him… with her finger.”) Can’t say I think much of her planning here; these people don’t know you call the Master Chief “the Demon” or that some random artifact is “The Keystone”. Ask clearer questions! You probably wouldn’t get any farther, but at least it would make sense. Also, keeping someone alive to unlock the secure tech for you would also be smart. (I should probably stop trying to make villains smarter…)

John’s trying to figure out the artifact-slash-himself, gathering more clues, etc. It doesn’t respond to Cortana, only him, which is interesting. After it’s back to the barracks, where apparently no one prepped the team for Cortana? Like, seriously? You didn’t brief them, sell her as an intelligence and operations upgrade? Getting the rest of the team excited about the possibilities might have helped with John’s acceptance. Instead, Cortana just pops up and John shuts her down. I almost feel bad for her in this scene, she honestly has no idea why she’s not being welcomed with open arms. (At the end of the scene I just wrote “Kai for President”. No idea why, just on general principle, I suppose.) Unaddressed: Is Cortana unique to John, or will they all have a copy? Or is there going to be a unique AI for each of them? If they’re worried about one Spartan going rogue, they have to worry about them all…

Kwan and Soren et al are back pretty briefly in this episode, just to establish that Kwan’s found her purpose in life: bringing down this Vinsher guy and finishing what her dad started. Not sure Chief would be thrilled (the UNSC definitely won’t) and I’m still convinced she and Soren are going to die. I’m no longer suspicious of Laera, and dang, her actress’s delivery of “The universe will be diminished without you in it” was FANTASTIC. Compliment, mourning, condemnation, and a little bit of a threat all in one. (Also, ‘deuterium money’. I love Scifi.)

Ah, this must be where all the “Master Cheeks” jokes are from. I, too, get naked when I plan to stab myself in the ass. (I kid, it’s actually more practical than getting blood all over your clothes. Less hydrogen peroxide needed!) KAI! Watches from the shadows. Is she gonna report him? How are the other Spartans going to react when she tells them? Again, I said her being smart could go either way…

John wanders through the city having Feelings and a Barbie movie moment of human connection, complete with space music! I live for this stuff. Gimme all the futuristic worldbuilding you want, I’ll eat it up. I love the electronic instruments, the little concert space, all very cool. (Sidenote: one of the transit stops is called ‘Manassas’? Yikes.) Is this the first time John’s been out here? Is he not supposed to be out or did they just suppress the desire to leave? What do the Spartans do with their free time? More visions, and I feel the UNSC is going to eventually regret giving this man a top-level hacker at his beck and call. Cortana slipping into chirpy promo voice as she recites the Reach for Life info was funny.

Reach for Life project, Reach the planet, Reach City. I’m gonna go ahead and guess “reach” is a bit of an Arc Word/ Concept. Reaching for the stars? Or something else?

Off they go to Eridanus, with Halsey and her creepy goon in tow, while Miranda is left behind with a window of opportunity. I have a bad feeling about this.

#halo tv show

[elizabethsaige]

Reaping the Benefits

Florence Pugh x Reader

Word Count: 1517

Warnings: none

A/n: i have a shit ton of requests to get thru and I've been in a bit of a rut with writing but idk why i had to write this one today, it just kinda came out of nowhere. i hope y'all enjoy!!

*gif not mine

Working at a coffee shop in a cozy and hidden part of New York had its benefits. One of which being you got to meet all sorts of cool people, the few that wandered into the small shop. Most of the time, it was a handful of regulars that would come in to grab their morning coffee or students at the nearby community college spending their days tucked away into the corner to read and study, but every once in a while, some stragglers come in and discover the hidden gem that was your workplace.

You made sure to talk to everyone that came in, even if it was just to ask how their day was going. Knowing life isn’t always easy, sometimes a friendly face could change someone’s day. The tips you got from it didn’t hurt either.

At 9:12 p.m. the last of what few customers you had left in the shop had made their way out the door. You and your boss were on the closing shift tonight and you both were hoping to get out of there at a respectable time, especially after the day you had. Two baristas called off sick and there was a full house around 7:00 pm for whatever reason. The line wasn’t worked through until 8:30, with more and more people adding to it. Truthfully, this was probably one of the worst shifts you’d had in a long time.

The bell to the front door rang as someone entered the building, obviously not aware that all of the lights were off. You were behind the counter wiping down the espresso machine, not even bothering to look up at the person.

“Hey, we’re closed,” you said in a monotone voice, hoping the lack of enthusiasm would give them a hint.

“Oh darn, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention, I’ll be on my way,” you heard a familiar voice say. Stopping in your tracks, you turned to see blonde hair starting for the door.

“Wait,” you exclaimed. The figure turned and looked at you.

Frantic to catch her before she bolted, you walked around the counter, but not fast enough to startle her.

She stared back at you, a look of embarrassment on her face. She looked like she’d been caught in the act of some horrific crime.

“You’re-You’re Florence Pugh, right?” Her expression softened as she let out an exhale of relief. “Guilty”

A smile formed on your face as you admired her for a second too long. “Sorry, I don’t mean to stare. You’re like my favorite actress.”

Florence smiled back, a slight blush appearing on her cheeks.

“Thank you darling, that means a lot, really,” she said in her beautiful accent. You nodded back to her, grateful that she acknowledged it.

“I don’t suppose that would help any in convincing you to make a latte for me? I know you’re closed, but I could really use it,” she playfully joked, but there was a hint of desperation in her voice.

You glanced back at the espresso machine that you were just about done cleaning, and then at the clock that read 9:32 p.m. “I haven’t started on the espresso machine yet, so I don’t mind.”

Normally you wouldn’t lie, but c’mon. It’s Florence Pugh! This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and you weren’t about to waste it. So what if you had to clean the machine again? It was worth it.

You started for the back of the counter while Florence took a seat at the bar in front of it, carefully placing her bag in her lap. “Thank you so much, how much do I owe you?”

Shaking your head with a laugh, you glance at her from behind the machine. “Nothing, it’s on me.”

Florence frowned and fished her wallet out of her bag. “Please, you’re really saving me tonight. Do you have a tip jar at least?”

“It’s really okay, it’s just a coffee,” you said as Florence spotted the tip jar by the cash register. She hopped out of her seat and placed a $20 bill in the jar and made her way back.

Just as you were about to protest, your manager came out from the back after hearing all the talking. “Y/N, what’s going on? We’re closed,” he said, spotting Florence, who gave him a shy smile.

You looked at him with startled eyes as you set the pitcher of milk on the counter. “Oh, she’s with me. We’ll be done soon, I promise. I can lock up once we’re done if you wanna head out.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice. Just make sure to turn out the back light once you’re done,” he said, grabbing the store key from his pocket and throwing it to you. “Oh, and didn’t you already clean that machine?”

Heat rose to your cheeks as you were called out for lying in front of Florence. You moved your eyes between her and your boss as she flashed you a knowing look.

“Ah, no not yet. I was getting to it,” you replied, staring at the floor, hoping it would swallow you whole to save you from the embarrassment.

Your boss nodded in response and turned to leave, but not before stopping to look back at Florence. “Hey, I’ve seen you before. You were in that one commercial, right?”

She smiled as you tried to contain your chuckle from behind the counter. “Yeah, something like that. Thanks for noticing,” she replied, holding her own laughter in.

Once he was gone, both you and Florence giggled to each other. Your boss was terrible with celebrities. Just couldn’t keep up with the times.

As you finished the latte, adding the finishing touches to the art you were making on top, you could feel Florence watching you.

“So you had cleaned the machine, you little liar,” she teased, watching as your cheeks reddened for the second time that night. “You didn’t have to do this, love.”

You looked up to look at her, only to see her staring intently at you. Butterflies swarmed in your stomach, her hazel eyes piercing into your’s.

“I never reject the opportunity to make a coffee for a pretty girl,” you said, carefully lifting the cup to the counter and sliding it over to Florence. She smirked at you before looking at the spider you had drawn on top of the latte with foam.

“Let me guess, a black widow?”

You nodded frantically, excited at how her eyes lit up when she guessed it right.

She took a sip, careful not to burn herself as you walked over to join her at the bar. Her mouth immediately turned up into a smile, eyes wide as she set down the cup and did a little happy dance. “Y/N, this is so good! Thank you so much.”

She reached out with extended arms for a warm embrace, lingering for a few extra seconds. “You’re welcome, I’m really glad you like it.”

The ring of the doorbell startled the two of you, both of you turning to see a man in a business suit walking in.

“Sir, we’re closed,” you walked toward him to shoo him out, his attempted protests drowned out by the sound of his phone ringing. Florence stifled a laugh at the frustration in his voice when he answered the call as the door closed behind him.

“Man, you make one girl a drink after closing and now everyone thinks they’re special,” you joked as you looked back at Flo, noticing her watching you with a joyful grin on her face.

“I should probably get going, just in case anyone else tries to come in,” she teased back, swinging her purse onto her shoulder and making her way over to you.

“I only make late night coffees for you, Florence Pugh.” She scrunched her nose as she giggled at your joke, her beautiful laugh filling the otherwise silent building.

“Ah, cheeky girl,” she said, slapping your arm with an eye roll and a smile. “Seriously, thank you again, Y/N. It was lovely meeting you, I hope I run into you again the next time I’m here.”

You smiled at her words, gulping back the fear that was caught in your throat. “You will, I’ll make sure of that,” you replied as you opened the door, stepping aside for her to walk through. She reached out for what you assumed was another hug, only to be met with a kiss on the cheek. You were sure she could feel the heat on them, feeling embarrassed that this girl had this much of an affect on you.

“Well, I really look forward to it. Have a good night,” she said as she stepped out of the shop and made her way down the street, looking back at you with a smile and a wink before disappearing around the corner.

A permanent grin rested on your face as you touched the place she kissed your cheek, completely forgetting all about the work you still had to do.

#florence pugh #florence pugh x reader #florence pugh x y/n

[rockingrobin69]

Office AU Snip 2

Draco leaned against the doorjamb, lips quirking before settling on a smile. “Harry? What are you doing here?”

He was wearing leg warmers. Thigh high, striped, yellow-green-pink. And a t-shirt, pink too. Harry blinked and blinked and blinked. “I—erm—” what was he… “The, uh, draw. The Strictly draw, we won. The last episode apparently aired last night, I don’t… never watched it.”

“Hmm.” Draco eyed the bottle in Harry’s hands, lower lip disappearing between his teeth. “And quite the prize it is. Come in, come in.”

Harry followed, still blinking so fast he could barely see.

“You’re not just coming from the office, are you?” Draco stopped to look back, shaking his head. “It’s after eight. Harry.”

“Yeah, I know, sorry, I… the Milton case, I was going over the paperwork. Everything needs to be perfect for tomorrow.”

He tsked. “Could have asked me to stay in and help.”

“No, there was no need.” His eyes were starting to water. He’s only ever seen Draco in office clothes for months, and this was—fuck, almost funny. Almost, in a nosebleed sort of way. Leg warmers? It was plenty warm in the flat. Also… a little scratchy down his throat.

“So, what kind of drink did the company splurge on?” Draco came closer, stealing what little air Harry had been able to gulp. “Asda’s own bubbly. Wow. Fancy.”

“Plastic cups, too,” Harry said mechanically, arms stretching forward. “Nothing but the best.”

Draco’s smile was so strange in here. “If you wouldn’t mind, I have some actual glasses in the kitchen. Unless you think it’d cheapen it.”

He left (and the shorts—did Harry mention the shorts, above the darned leg-warmers? Bright green and so… tight on his backside?), and Harry still wasn’t breathing properly. The lighting was soft, a little dim, making it harder to concentrate on the details. Small, blue sofa, a tiny red armchair, a bookcase. Soft-looking rug, a standing lamp in the shape of a—

“Here,” Draco was back, gentle touch on Harry’s arm. “Chin chin.”

Harry took an instinctive sip, and bravely didn’t spit it out. “Gah. I forgot I hate this stuff.”

“I have rum in the kitchen,” Draco said, trying to take the glass back. “Or a bottle of white, but it’s been open a while—how about ginger beer? Oh, I got the most marvellous gin last week, should have some lemonade left.”

“No, no, this is fine.” Harry took another valiant sip, nose scrunched. “It’s so… bubbly.”

“Give it,” Draco laughed, shaking his head. But he came nearer, and thinking was hard, because he was wearing fucking leg-warmers and—and this was all so baffling. “Harry. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Mm, so good. Tastes like victory.” Maybe if he kept it in his hands, Draco would come even closer. Try to wrestle it out of his grasp. Keep calling him ‘Harry’ like that, with the little smile. Maybe their shoulders would brush. Maybe he was losing his fucking mind.

“Fine, have it your way,” Draco rolled his eyes. “If you decide against hating yourself, there are plenty of other drinks in there.”

He made his way to the sitting area, one leg-warmed step at a time. Sat on the sofa, said leg hiking up, so he could rest his chin on a knee.

“Well? Are you going to keep standing?”

Harry could have taken the tiny armchair, but it was rather tiny, probably not the most comfortable. And Draco’s leg on the sofa, so brightly coloured. Everything was, around him. The walls were covered with photos and posters, and Harry looked and looked, not taking anything in.

“Go on then. Ask.”

A bit of a struggle, training his eyes back to Draco. “Ask what?”

“Ask about the penis lamp, Harry.”

He nearly lost his life on a sip. “What… so. That’s what that’s meant to be?”

“Blaise thought he was so funny,” he leaned back, wine sloshing in his glass, eyes wide with laughter, and Harry’s knees went a bit weak. “Got it off of gum tree, believe it or not. This guy in Aberdeen makes them out of old tyres? Naturally when he looked at it, he thought of me.”

“Naturally.” Harry’s voice came out raspy.

Draco leaned back, looking him up and down. “So, what’s the real reason you stayed at work so late?”

“Hmm?”

“Come on. We both know everything was ready for the Miltons all the way last week. What’s eating you up?”

 “Who…” Harry took a laboured breath, swallowed something sticky in his throat. “Who said there’s something—nothing’s wrong. I just needed a little time. To review some documents.”

“So you’ve said,” Draco mumbled, with a slight air of—not disappointment, but something just as bitter. Felt like being punched. “Very well, then. Drink up, Potter.”

#drarry fic #snip of a wip #more office au #no magic just. office #tw alcohol #rated... soft M

[tamorisana]

Just a little bit more, please.

Tags :Fluffy, sleeping together, little suggestive??

Pairing :Ghostsoap

Notes :It's just a light one before the nuclear second part of 'After'.

[——————————————————————————————————————————]

Waking up isn't exactly nice.

Soap absolutely fucking hates mornings. And waking up.

He hates leaving his little secure world of dreams for routine. Boring, monotonous, dull routine. New task, new mission, new possible injuries. Like the one on his right shoulder.

But today is different. Fundamentally different.

You see, waking up half-naked, being spooned by his lieutenant isn't exactly a usual thing. But not unappreciative. Hearing Simon's breathing again his hair, arms and warmth around him is... something.

Besides it all was wonderful.

Until it wasn't.

A knock on the door was so loud it felt inappropriate.

"Soap? Everything alright? Can I come in?" Is heard from the other side of the door. Darn you, Price. Oh God, how much he hates it, Johnny just wants to sleep, to forget about the wound on his shoulder, to cuddle with Simo— And then it hits. He is half naked, snuggling with his lieutenant and Captain is about to walk on them.

Holy shit.

They are fucked.

He doesn't think he ever got up, dressed, and at least somehow presentable that fast. Five seconds and he opens the door before Captain, right on fucking time because the man behind it is already reaching for it.

"G'morning, you need something?" Oh god, he hates this. He wants to go back to bed and his shoulder is acting up again.

"No, just needed to check on you. You didn't show up for breakfast, thought your cut opened and bled out. Figured out you might use one." Price leans on one shoulder using the door frame as support. God, he probably looks like a mess. A sleepy one too.

"So caring, Cap, I'm touched. Everything is alright, just slept in" Soap rubs the back of his head, going through his now long, uncombed hair. Simon said it's nice, so he keeps it this way. He needs a good shower once the stitches are healed.

"Alright, alright. You are desperate for sleep and rest so go do that, medic wants to see you and stitches in the evening by the way" He pushes himself up and moves away, Price turns away starting to move suddenly stopping "Did you see Ghost?"

Huh?

Oh, he did.

Different poses, angles and even his face on his own coc—

Shush. Answer.

"Aye, he went back to his room yesterday, didn't he?"

He didn't.

"Probably, didn't see him anywhere today. Okay, sleep. Now."

Oh no. His dad mode is on.

"Yes, sir. Good night..? Good morning??"

Soap stepped a couple steps back, chuckling as he did so. Already closing the door, going straight to bed, sliding under warm covers next to the still-laying body giving all of that warmth. Fucking furnace.

"Where were you" grumpily heard from Ghost– no. Simon as he turned to face Johnny, snuggling closer, showing and letting him see the men behind the skull mask. Trusting him so much and probably praying for him not to destroy what's left of Simon.

"Price got scared I reopened the wound and died from blood loss since I didn't show up for breakfast " answer was quick to roll of Johnny's lips as he started gently rubbing circles on the bigger man's back, trying to get him to relax and get more sleep as it's a rare occasion for Simon to actually sleep. "He is looking for you, by the way"

"Old man can wait. Sleep." there was not even a pause between the two sentences but Scotsman doesn't focus on that, breathing on his neck and big hot hands on his waist and hips are way more... interesting.

He definitely will try his best to put pieces of what's left of Simon together and fill in the missing parts.

[——————————————————————————————————————————]

Look at me working. Working hard to please yall the best I can.

For the love of god its 3:20 as i write this. I need sleep not hyperfixation.

#mw2 2022 #cod #cod mwii #ghostsoap #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #soapghost #soap mw2 #johnny soap mactavish #soap call of duty

[evilpenguinrika]

wait what about a Hosie/9-1-1 (tho i realize maybe just general procedural dramas lol) AU where Super Squad (+maybe some other mentions form TO? idk I only watched TO and LGCS lol) works at a fire station together and they got news that they're getting two new paramedics joining them and it's Josie and Lizzie

and Hope, who's a Lieutenant, is like 👀 but also like 😒 because she's kinda famous? Like her family are pretty involved in the firefighting/paramedic/EMT scene (idk if there's a proper term I apologize) and a lot of rookies and probies want to join the station where Hope works bc hey, the entire Mikaelson legacy is there and they're legends, so Hope's on guard making sure that she keeps her distance cuz who knows--she's encountered one too many fans seeking her out because of her name and not because they wanna get to know her

anyways so Josie and Lizzie are the new paramedics for the fire station and they just moved to the city and are from Mystic Falls idk sure

Maya's like "hey, cute brunette three o'clock."

and Hope's like "don't go after the newbies" but like she does clock in Josie and is like 👀 anyway

Josie and Lizzie are new so like, maybe they don't know anything about the Mikaelson family. but anyway the twins integrate well with the rest of the fire family at the station but Hope's still keeping her distance and keeping an eye on them. Lizzie thinks Hope's too pretentious but Josie's intrigued and also 👀

Maya being Maya hits on Josie a few times. it's very light hearted and Josie flirts back cuz like it's fun it's whatever but Hope gets a little annoyed and is all

"we're here to work and save lives not hook up in the storage closet"

Josie continues to be very intrigued with Hope after that

then they get a really big call. huge car accident on a high way, multiple injured. Hope focuses on her work but watches in awe as Josie does her. She's an incredible paramedic. Very thorough with what she does and efficient, but also so warm and kindhearted toward the people she's saving. There's an air about her that captures Hope's attention.

Since then Hope's been paying very close attention to paramedic Josie Saltzman. and unbeknownst to our Lieutenants, Josie's been paying very close attention to Lieutenant Hope Mikaelson.

Anyway bla bla bla things happen, more working together on scene, hanging out with the crew after work, bla bla bla, and Hope and Josie become really fast friends but also there's like this weird unspoken tension between the two that Lizzie and Maya both keep poking and prodding and teasing them about (oh, also, Lizzie ends up getting together with both paramedic MG and firefighter Ethan bc I want my Mizzethan throuple gosh darn it)

Probably a slowburn.

#hosie #legacies hosie #hosie fanfiction #hosie endgame #hope mikaelson #josie saltzman #hope mikaelson x josie saltzman #eprika rambles #god i love firefighter procedural

[mercang]

[Until We Meet in the Hall, Again]

neighbor!steven grant x fem!blk!reader

[tags] fluff, comfort, calm, little bit of mental pining (?)

[description] When Steven is unable to get into his apartment, a kind neighbor allows him to spend some time in her apartment. While avoiding the winter air, she realizes she’s quite fond of Steven. Maybe he’s fond of her too. (Reader is unaware of the system that is moon knight, but she does make a slight unaware reference to the system ?)

[warnings] none.

[word count] 1.6k+

THE CHILL OF the winter night nipped at your skin as bits of snow crunched below the soles of your boots. Granted, they weren’t snow boots — seeing as you had barely any time to prepare for the sudden temperature change, but they got the job done. With your hands stuffed in your pockets you had begun to make a mental note of things you had needed to get before the winter became even more dreadful. Ranging from getting boots, a new coat, and some mittens as well.

As your coiled hair slightly brushed against your cheek you sighed as another thought began to ring; time for braids.

The walk home from your job at the library usually was as easy as a snap of a finger. Though, today seemed to bring in bit of complications with the sheets of ice that overlay the sidewalks. It was like figure skating at some points in the journey. It was moments like these that made you question your decision to move to London earlier that year.

As you neared your apartment building, it was as if your stride became lighting fast. It was not long before you stepped foot over the warm threshold of the building’s main entrance — sending a smile and a wave to the older lady who stayed two floors down as she exited the building. Leanne Evers, she visited the library at least three times a week.

The elevator ride to your floor seemed to drag on, it felt as if minutes ticked away on your imaginary clock. With a minor jolt, the elevator halted to a stop and the doors slid open. From the end of the hall you could make out the silhouette of someone, as you neared said person a smile played at your lips that still shook due to the lack of heat in the hallway.

“Hi, Steven,” you greeted as you reached into your pocket for your key. The man slightly jumped as he peered up from his dimly lit phone screen.

“‘evening, love, awful weather out there huh?” He questioned as he took in your slightly jittery frame. Steven Grant was an outrageously polite man. His demeanor held an almost childlike innocence at times, especially when he would provide you with little spontaneous facts when running into each other. Though, there were some nights where it felt as though you caught the glimpse of a completely different person — for just a millisecond.

“Yeah, my first time dealing with London’s weather,” you sighed as you unlocked your apartments door, “safe to say I was not prepared.”

“It just gets worse from here,” he sent you a joking smile but you knew the statement held some truth. The weather forecast only called for temperatures to lower throughout the week.

“As for you?” you questioned without further explanation until you took in his slightly confused expression. “The hall is a bit cold, is everything alright?” you questioned with more detail as you opened your door and pointed towards his.

“Oh yeah, yeah, no…” he trailed off as he jiggled the knob, “darn key just went and snapped in half. Right in the keyhole, yeah.”

Looking down at the doorknob your face faltered into a look of empathy.

“Aw sorry Steven, did you call maintenance?”

“I tried, then texted it’s been an hour and they’ve only just responded saying it’ll be around a two hour wait,” he sighed, jiggling the doorknob again.

“Ice caused some of the roads to close, so I’m just stuck here. Waiting…” Steven stated with a small smile to try an ease the situation.

With a frown you pushed your door open more. The scent of vanilla and the warmth of you apartment began to call out to you — filling the hall within a few seconds. It was like being encased in a warm embrace. One of those hugs that you never want to break free of. A sudden lightbulb went off in your head.

“Would you like to stay in my apartment until maintenance gets here,” you asked with ease. It was not often that you would allow others into your home (your safe space away from the chaos of the world) but you felt as though you could trust Steven. In all of you months of being there he was nothing but kind, so your spur of the moment decision was not alarming to yourself in the slightest.

“Are you sure,” he sputtered out, “that’s awfully kind but only if you’ll allow it. I mean really you don’t have to I’m completely fine-“

“Steven, it’s okay. I insist,” you laugh lightly as you cut off his nervous rambling.

Your apartment was just like the others on the floor. The open floor plan allowed the view of every room if you stood in the central meeting point. The furniture that you had filled the apartment with gave it your special touch, paintings hung on temporary plastic hooks (to ensure no damage is done to the walls). Your lights weren’t too bright, they gave off a warm yellow glow and added to the coziness of the apartment.

“Might need you to decorate my apartment, love…” Steven looked in slight awe as his head twisted and turned about. Trying to take in the unfamiliar atmosphere.

With a small laugh you gently shook your black coat to rid it of any snow. Hanging it on the hook, you pulled off your boots and sat them below the drifting coat. Watching as he had a seat on the couch, he looked a little unsure of whether he should be there. So cute.

What? Alright, that was a little odd.

“Well, what’ll it be Steven? Snacks? A movie? Need anything…?” you asked as you entered the small kitchen area, your back turned to him as you looked through the cupboards for a snack of your own. Damn, you have got to go grocery shopping this weekend.

“Do you have a charger that I could use? My phone’s about to drift off into the unknown at this point,” he asked politely.

“Sure do, gimme juuust a moment,” dragging out your words, you picked up your scarf from the table where you left it in a rush this morning. Tying the red silk around your head you made sure to remind yourself to put on your bonnet before going to sleep tonight. It was sat on the coffee table in front of Steven and you just absolutely had no energy to put it on at the moment.

Opening one of the drawers on the kitchen island, the sound of rummaging could be heard as your hands moved through the mess — looking for your backup charger. Pulling it from its hiding spot, the walk over to hand it to Steven was a short one. A thank you was quickly uttered as you showed him where to plug it.

“So how has things been at the museum,” the question kind of lingered in the air. Almost as if he did not want to answer.

“I sorta…maybe…lost the job…” he answered slowly. It was like it was painful for him to admit. Which was about right for him, the museum was like Steven’s second home. You had come to know that when you had spontaneously decided to visit and found him working there. He had given you a tour and everything only for you to later find out he was only a worker in the gift shop.

“Oh…,” you slightly trailed off as you regained your thoughts, “their loss. I think you were an excellent gift shop worker and faux tour guide.”

“You truly think believe that?”

“Of course I do. I’d never tell you a lie, Steven,” you smiled as you reached for the remote on the coffee table.

“As for you? How’s it been at the library,” he questioned in a similar fashion. Finally starting to feel comfortable in your home.

“Oh you know, books and more books. Had a few kids come in last week and knock almost every book off of one of the shelves for no reason,” you sigh as the television powered on, “upside is, I got paid overtime because of the mess I had to clean up.”

“Sorry to hear that, kids definitely are something. Had one ask me how it felt to be rejected from the Field of Reeds. Like what’s all that ‘bout, huh,” Steven smiled. You liked to be around Steven, he was like a breath of fresh air on a stressful day. He always know how to lighten the mood or bring ease into a otherwise heavy situation.

With a hearty laugh, you sifted through the television channels trying to find something you would both enjoy.

The time began to fly by quite quickly. Before you knew it, your eyes began to droop. Work at the library had taken quite a toll on you today, and the slippery walk home only seemed to tire you out even more.

Trying to avoid sleep for the sake of wanting to escort Steven out and take a shower after, the sleep had won this battle.

About an hour after Steven had gone you woke up in confusion. Once realizing you had fallen asleep your eyes widened, as your head swiveled to find you were alone — your guest absent from his place on the couch. Peering at the coffee table in front of you, you found an envelope which held a slip of unimportant junk mail. On it was an unfamiliar handwriting. Steven’s handwriting.

“Thanks lots for letting me in. Maintenance came by and fixed everything up. Well…until we meet in the hall, again. Or we could grab lunch? Or not, don’t worry, don’t feel obligated to answer that. Really, it’s fine.”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you imagined his voice throughout the reading of the note. Classic Steven. He even rambles in his notes.

How cute.

[authors note] can you tell I absolutely shake at the thought of writing fluff? at one point I was so nervous when writing fluff, but hey…look at us. who woulda thought…? I really hope y’all enjoyed the story!

#moon knight #steven grant #fluff #Steven grant x reader #steven grant x you #Steven grant x reader fluff #steven grant moon knight

[atbussysparks]

Tf2 mercs as dog breeds

+Ms. Pauling bc I love her

Dog breeds under cut

Sniper 👁️🐊🎷 Australian staghound

A quick witted as well as long legged

They have a great sense of spatial awareness. gentle, and at all times alert. they can be very loving with the right people, and stick directly at their side

can survive well in a stressful agrarian environment, but not very well with yappy little dogs in homes

tenacious, hunt-minded, pack leader that was bred to hunt predators, rather than prey.

Heavy💪🏻📗🪆: 1/4th Siberian husky, 3/4ths Caucasian shepherd

Intelligent guardians, defending their loved and almost noble

Their appearance is large and imposing

Siberian husky bc when I think of noble Russian dogs I think of the Alaskan serum run my bad

They can take a great care of children, and they're fluffy

Medic🥼🩸💉 doberman, half canaan

Dobermans have very cut features and I swear to god they just exist to scare people

Even with their ears unclipped, even if they were raised correctly with love, they have the sadistic need to scare me and small children and whatever poor souls come their way

Medic would be a doberman with clipped ears. Also, they kinda look like musical notes to me, which is funny bc he plays the violin

Canaan bc I like to imagine medic as Jewish as well!

Scout🏁⚾💥: half Picardy spaniel, 1/4th greyhound, 1/4th xoloitzcuintli

He brags that his shiny picardy coat is simply because he's the next generation of handsome practical boys his ass do not know 😭

Lean, playful, kinda brainfarted, incredibly fast. Greyhounds have been bred for the best racing body in the world

Xolo just bc I am brown and I fucking love projection, nevermind that he is prime white boy he just pale

Demoman🍻🗡️💣: Rhodesian ridgeback

Violence is his passion and it is very easy to forget

He would just look like a greyhound with a shiny coat, bald patches, and a xolo head.

Despite his lazy, flashy, wannabe, artistic personality, He's still a speed demon, and constantly needs a job to do or authority figure to disrespect.

Large, hearty, and loud

The type of breed you can't free feed because they can't do self regulation. they're mainly independent

They're funny handsome fellers shut up I love demo

Great hunters! They love to look at the chaos after their hunt, all the fun mess

They are very much "Dearly devoted companions," loyal as can be

Pyro🔥🦄❤️‍🔥

This is a strange CREATURE in a rubber suit. He wields fire, the light of the giver's sun and song of control, as a beacon for his morbid pondering

A macabre display of blood and the scent unfurling through the nerves, thick with iron and gas, laced with the crackling curling charred skin.

This is not dog nor human, he has come from the depths of hell and he cannot see it, for all he knows is to play and frolick. Glitter and stickers trace their surroundings. Humanity envies them. He might just be a raccoon 🦝

Engineer 🧑🏻‍🏭🧰🤠: coonhound

AND THE WARDEN SANG COME ON SOMEBODY WHY DONT YOU RUN? OL' RED'S ITCHIN' TO HAVE A LIL FUN

Intelligent, and if they can use that as a means to not have to do a lot of work then by God they're gonna exploit it.

They're good at killing though I tell you that

Pretty darn affectionate, but their specialty is caring. They take care and split up fights.

They're musical too! They can howl and they've got a sorta melody to it. They may not like to share stuff though

Spy🕵🏻‍♂️🍷🎭: Picardy spaniel

I forgor what scout was hold up 💀

They hold themselves to a certain esteem. They are the unseen hunters.

Most of them are good with kids and shit but every french dog I've ever seen was much like their people. Dicks.

Silent and stalking, they'd prefer their own space

Regal and untelling of their true love.

Soldier 🪖🍯🎖️: pitbull

Clownish and patriotic, they're very misread as naturally aggressive and evil. Them bitches CANNOT lock their jaw. There's more to them!

I have a pitbull and she loves running around being free, but she's also fast to act, dumb of ass

For some reason they can smile really hard 😭😭😭🩷🩷🩷

They can be aggressive! Loud and demanding! Pure muscles and surprisingly easy to flip over for belly pets

They love to watch stuff break. They love to be squished. They love to love. They're food driven

Ms. Pauling 🩸👓💼: groenendael

Does a lotta dirty work

Highly trainable, and loyal. They can be affectionate. Just, a liiiittle but averse to deep love

Elegant, but much more brawny. Determinate and eager to please

Sleeper build fr

They know more than one would think, and are observant. Workaholics need a break dawg 💀

(as a cat I think she'd be a calico)

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress two #tf2 headcanons #scout tf2 #demo tf2 #pyro tf2 #demoman #spy tf2 #soldier tf2 #engie tf2 #engineer #sniper tf2 #heavy tf2 #medic tf2 #ms pauling #tf2 miss pauling #dog breeds #dogblr #character study #sparking list

[imagionationstation]

2012 Ep Skimming:

Presenting: The Frankenstein Experiment

I love how his brothers are focused on saving the world from the monsters (as they should be, absolutely no shaming here) and Donnie’s solely focused on the brother that’s on the wrong side of the fight. This kid just spends the entire episode trying to fix him and worrying about him, and it’s so GOSH DARN HEARTWARMING- WHY DO YOU DO THIS TO ME DEE 🥺❤️💜

Mikey: “Aw, man! Frankenstein? We gotta take on Frankenstein too?”

Donnie: “Not just that. We gotta save Raph and turn him back to normal!”

Leo: “Come on, we got to get to Frankenstein’s castle while it’s still light out.”

Donnie: “What about Raph?”

Leo: “I don’t know, man. Unless you or Renet come up with any bright ideas, Raphael may be lost forever.”

FIRST OFF: MR. NARDO, YOU DID NOT JUST GIVE UP ON YOUR BRO LIKE THAT! THE HAY, MAN

SECONDLY: DID YOU REALLY JUST STICK THAT ON HIS SHOULDERS?! WE GONNA LOSE OUR BROTHER FOREVER UNLES YOU DO SOMETHING?!

Leo. This is why me and you have issues man. (OP says like they’ve ever actually interacted with him more than him being on a screen-)

Dr. Frankenstein: “Donatello. You are the best assistant I’ve ever had. I’m quite impressed with your knowledge.”

Donnie: “Thanks, Doc. I want to ask you about your synthetic blood, too. See, I’ve got this friend and it might help him…”

DONNIE’S FOCUSED ON THE MISSION AND HIS BRO. LOOKIT THAT FACE- HE ONLY WANTS TO HELP HIS BRO SO BAD

Donnie: “I can help you! With the Doc’s synthetic blood!”

JSJSTSJSJ- HE’S MORE SAD THAN SCARED! BIG BRO ATTACKING HIM, BUT HIS ONLY THOUGHT BE TO HELP! HE JUST WANTS TO MAKE IT BETTER-

Raph: “I NEVER SAID I WANTED HELP!”

The look on his face- they’re both going to be reliving this in their dreams for weeks. Raph watching the terror overcome his little bro’s face and Donnie feeling all of it. WHY DOES EVERYTHING HAVE TO BE DIFFICULT?!

Donnie: “I’m sorry, Raphael.”

He knows that if he doesn’t do something fast, his big bro is probably gonna bite him and ruin any chances of him fixing this in the future. Genius gotta do what a genius gotta do. 🥺

Yk, the first time I saw this scene, I was mortified that Donnie seemingly sent his brother to his death, because when Raph was charging him, he purposefully ran to this. Which means he planned to drop him.

Then I remembered that vampires can’t die without specific circumstances. Donnie knew that, and therefore knew the fall wouldn’t kill him. Hurt and knock him out? Sure. But not kill.

And when he holds up his staff in preparation to cut the chains, there’s a moment of hesitation and brief struggle as he summons the strength to even do it.

LOOKIT. This does not look like the face of someone who is satisfied with his actions. He’s seriously gonna be haunted by this for a long time 😞

ERGO, CRISIS AVERTED! HE’S STILL GOOD BOI AND BESTEST OF GREEN BEANS! 💜💜💜

Renet: “Is everyone alright?”

Leo: “We’re okay. I think.”

Donnie: “Yeah. Except the lab got trashed. All of the Doc’s synthetic blood is ruined!”

Donnie: “I thought we could use it to save Raph…”

THE WAY HIS VOICE CRACKS

HE HURTS

HE’S JUST TRYING SO HARD TO BRING HIS BIG BRO BACK TO RIGHT MIND AND HIS FAM

Yk, because Leo basically said “We don’t have a brother anymore unless you fix this.”

What? Me? Bitter? Noooooooo 😒

“We’ll think of something else, Dee. At least he’s back with us.”

Good ol’, Mikey. Got his brother’s back. Makin’ him smile. Lil’ bro doing what he does best 🧡💜

There’s so much I like about these Halloween eps. Like vampatello. We needed more vampire Donatello. He needed more lines. Actions. SOMETHING. HE GOT LIKE NO SCREEN TIME, WHY-

🤣 I’m fine. Definitely fine.

Maybe I’ll do a vampatello rant next~

For clarification on my thoughts about the Leo-giving-up topic, please see here. I promise there will never be any turtle bashing on this blog.

#See what I see TMNT #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2k12 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #donatello #tmnt donatello #donnie tmnt #tmnt donnie 2012 #2012 donnie #tmnt donnie #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #raphael #tmnt 2012 raph #leonardo #tmnt leonardo 2012 #leonardo 2012 #leonardo tmnt #leonardo hamato #mikey 2012 #mikey hamato #tmnt mikey #tmnt mikey 2012 #mikey tmnt #tmnt michelangelo #michelangelo #michelangelo 2012 #michelangelo hamato #donnie hamato #tmnt donatello 2012