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kaleldobrev · 10 months

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Pumpkin Muffins

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Dean decide to try new nicknames for each other

Word Count: 930

Warnings: None, just fluff!

Authors Note: A little bit of a shorter fic than I normally write, but I had a cute little idea I wanted to write | Probably one of the fluffiest things I’ve written | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You and Dean were currently sitting next to each other in the War Room; dozens of open books laying on the table in front of you, each open to a random page that may or may not be helpful to the case you and the boys were currently working on. You were sitting in your usual spot in your usual position whenever you were in the War Room: your legs and bare feet in Dean’s lap with one of his hands resting on your thigh. Ever so subtly and gently, he would sometimes start to rub circles on your skin, sending small shivers down your spine and giving you tiny goosebumps – goosebumps you knew that Dean could feel.

The book you were currently reading was propped up on your lap, one of your fingers gingerly playing with the upper corner of the page. As you were reading the words on the page, you felt your eyes start to grow slightly heavy with sleep; letting out a small yawn. You felt Dean squeeze your thigh, and you peered over the edge of the book to look at him. “Hey Sleepy.” He said, his voice sounding tired.

“Right back at you.” You gave him a small smile.

“I’m not the one that yawned.” He sounded defensive. “I’m not ti-” He yawned in the middle of his sentence, which caused you to give him a look. “Shut up.” He said, closing the book in front of him.

“Want to call it a night? Sam went to bed hours ago.” You said, you too closing your book and placing it on the table in front of you.

Dean looked at his watch. “Huh.” He said and looked at you. “3 in the morning.”

“A lot later than I thought it was.” You rubbed your face. “I’m ready to hit the hay if you are Pumpkin.”

Dean raised a brow. “Pumpkin?” He questioned, his hand starting to run up your thigh, stopping at the edge of one of his flannels that you were wearing.

“What?” You innocently asked.

“Pumpkin.” He started to play with the hem of the shirt gently. “That’s a new one.” He smirked.

“Do you like it? I wanted to try something new.” For as long as you had known Dean, the two of you always tended to use the same nicknames or pet names for each other. Sweetheart, Honey, Babe, Baby. You didn’t dislike those names, but you had wanted to try something new since ‘Sweetheart’ was one of those nicknames that Dean tended to use on everyone, and you had wanted him to either call you something differently, or you had wanted to call him something differently.

“What’s wrong with Sweetheart, Sweetheart?” He asked, turning his body to face you now, which caused you to move your bare feet to press gently against his stomach.

“Nothing’s wrong with it. I just…you call everyone Sweetheart.” You sighed softly, almost sounding a bit annoyed even though you really weren’t.

“I thought you liked it.” He was a little confused, more surprised than anything. Because as long as you had known him, calling you Sweetheart was something that he always did, or he would call you other nicknames like Babe, Baby, or Honey. Since you never commented on Sweetheart, it never occurred to him that you didn’t like the name. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged. “I didn’t want to make it a big deal. I mean, I don’t entirely dislike the name, I just…I don’t know.” Bringing this up to Dean was something that wasn’t necessarily on your top priority list because you and the boys had other things to worry about, world ending things to worry about to be exact.

“Sw-Y/N.” Dean moved his chair, which made your legs fall off his lap for only a few moments before he took your hand, guiding you to come and sit on his lap; which you promptly did. Both of your hands had found themselves on the back of Dean’s head, while his hands found themselves on your lower back. “If you don’t like me calling you somethin’, you gotta tell me. I’ll never, and I mean never give you shit for it.”

“Are you sure?” You didn’t know why you were asking him, you knew that it was okay.

“Y/N, you are one of the most badass hunters that I have ever encountered in my life. And you are someone that isn’t afraid of taking down a whole nest of vampires all by herself, but, the one thing you’re afraid of is telling your boyfriend that you don’t like it when he calls you Sweetheart? Muffin, you know how silly that sounds right?”

“Dean –” You were about to comment on what he said but one of the words in his final sentence had thrown you. “Muffin?”

He nodded, almost as if he was proud of himself. “Do you like it? I’m trying something new.” He winked.

You couldn’t help but smile back at him. You strangely liked the nickname Muffin, it was cute and unexpected coming from Dean. Not that Dean couldn’t be cute when he wanted to be; the man had a strange way about him where he was able to be sexy, hot, and cute all at once. “I like it.” You brought both your hands to his cheeks, cupping his face. “You realize this means our ship name would be Pumpkin Muffins now.”

Dean chuckled. “I don’t see the problem. Who doesn’t like Pumpkin Muffins?”

“Nobody.” You smiled, before leaning in and pressing your lips to his.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia

If you would like to be added to the tag list, message me or comment!

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #spn imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #supernatural imagine #spn #supernatural #reader insert #female reader

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karczel-fanzone · 7 months

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POV:You failed civics (┬┬﹏┬┬)

Kny High School AU! Gyomei x Reader with severe Social Anxiety

Word count: 930

Warning: Overthinking, Anxiety, and Panic attack description from reader's POV

Just Gyomei being a teacher | Platonic

You appear before the teacher’s room.

Sweat runs down your face from sprinting here and feeling of dread as you stand before the door to it.

It’s your first time failing any test.

And you already heard a mouthful from your parents.

“Seriously?! You failed civics!?”

“Out of every other subject!?”

You have always been bad at socializing and communication.

And you either weren’t paying attention in class or drawing the time away, as you can just use common sense to pass those tests, you thought.

To your surprise, there were laws and ethical conundrums in the test, with situations that you’ve never considered the effects of the outcome before, nor their appropriate answers.

And all the homework you forget to submit that adds up to this moment.

To your efforts, you’re just a few points away from passing this exam.

It seemed like your common sense is worse than you thought,

And you were the only one who missed the first regrading opportunity, so you’re pretty much on your own.

You don’t know if he’ll deduct even more scores that you can get just because of this or make an even harder version of the test than the first one, and the first retest version.

*sniffles*

You knock on the door 2 times, before going in

“Hello… is Mr. Himejima here?”

You felt so tiny and scared in this room full of adults.

Your communication skills were bad among your peers, and even worse with adults as you tried your best to not cry abruptly from sheer intimidation that creeps up to the back of your skull.

You feel your throat painfully trying to close in on itself as you try your hardest to fight against that to not end up speaking in illiterate croaking sounds.

“Yeah? That’s me”

He lifted his head up from his desk as he seemed to be working on something… grades, maybe?

The thought makes you feel guilty and nervous, like you’ve been pricked with a thousand tiny needles under your skin.

“Yes”

You nodded haphazardly.

“What have you come here for?”

“I c-come to take- “

Your throat betrays you as you feel more eyes from the other teachers in the room land on you and you can only breathe in panic as you start to feel a bit woozy.

“What’s wrong?”

“i-I-uhhhhh…”

You felt cold sweats on the side of your forehead as you internally try to regain control of yourself.

But maybe announcing your failure to the entire room of teachers might be too much of a step to take, right now.

Your legs are shaking threatening to make you fall over at any moment.

“Hello?”

Himejima gets up and clicks his tongue near-silently to navigate with the sound that bounces off nearby physical objects as he gets up and makes his way over to you.

He scares you even worse as he’s standing in front of you, terrifying you so bad you almost faint from your own fear.

“h-ah-h- I’m- “

He waits for your answer patiently with a moderate distance from you as you try to speak again.

“I-… I failed you!”

“What?”

He’s just as perplexed as you are.

“w-wait no I mean- “

“I- It’s ok, I’m not disappointed in you.”

“Ah- “

Your low-esteem self automatically thinks that’s because he has no expectations of you since the very beginning, but you keep that thought to yourself, as you realize you can’t stop overthinking.

“You’re the last person who didn’t take the makeup exam right?”

“Y-yes!”

You nod so hard your head’s about to fall off, fearing words might’ve failed you.

“Well, you can take this open book test on the empty desk over there, since you’re the only one left.”

You let out a choked gasp in your throat with closed mouth as you heard the last part.

“N-no pressure, t- take your time.”

“Hfu…”

Hearing that made you give out a sigh that took your stress out a little.

You take out your book and a few online mind maps you printed out to memorize for the past 2 days and start to work on your make-up exam.

You spent a few minutes staring at each question with no thoughts, which made Gyomei a little worried as you seemed very on edge about this test. Granted that he couldn’t even see your facial expression, but he could tell from the taps of your foot and the sound of biting fingernails.

“…You can listen to music if that helps?”

You gasped in surprise.

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

And there you were, looking between your book and the test, breathing more calmly as you listen to your earphones.

It calmed your nerves, and you even doodled on the empty space before turning it in.

“I’m done! …Sir!”

as your hands in your test papers.

You’re not sure if the ‘sir’ made things more awkward, but it felt more right to say, rather than without.

“Ah, hm”

He gently accepts the papers that were outstretched to him, the same paper you were scared to take just a moment ago.

“…”

You two exchange stares without any words, with either of you having any ideas on why the other kept staring back.

“Um…”

“Am I good?”

“What?”

“Uh… Am I good to go?”

“Oh- yeah, yeah. Did you put in your names, number, and class?”

“Yep!”

“Ok, you’re good to go.”

“Thank you! Thank you very much!”

You put a thumbs up to express your joy with a smile on your face,

And he reluctantly returns the gesture.

More fan works and fan stuffs @karczel-fanzone! ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

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pbandjesse · 3 months

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I am wheezing a little right now. Which is frustrating. But fine. I just took some medicine and hopefully it calms down whatever it is that is causing this.

Today was a pretty good day. I got so much done and that felt good.

We didn't get to bed until really late. We got home a bit after 11. I took a miserably cold shower. And was probably asleep by 1. I had played around on my phone for a while. I sort of remember James leaving for work. But I would sleep until 930.

Pretty soon after I woke up my dad called me. He sounded so bright. He told me he tried to convince the nurses to let him sign himself out against medical advise so he could enjoy how nice it was outside and then he'll come back. But they told him no. Silly goose.

We wouldn't talk long but it made me feel nice. Which was ideal because I did not feel nice this morning.

For one I was so tired. I wanted to go back to sleep but also I hate sleeping later then 930. Like I don't mind taking a nap but there is something that doesn't make me feel more rested from sleeping late. I don't know what that is about.

But I would lay in bed for a long time. A little before 1030 I would finally get up. I got dressed in soft clothes because I decided I could not go out today. I did not have it in me. So instead I would focus on house projects.

I would make a little bagel. And went upstairs to pick out some outfits for the week. I was feeling really bad about myself. About my face and hair. I tried very hard to not focus on it but I was feeling incredibly low, self esteem wise.

I decided to open all the windows. And start to go through my closet and pull out the very wintery clothes and pick things out from storage that were lighter.

And that would take a while but it was fun. Finding things I haven't seen for a while. But then all of a sudden Sweetp has torn through the small tear in the screen and he was half way out the window!!! I freaked out and grabbed him and that scared me and him I just kept telling him how unsafe that was and I closed that window and was a little shaken up. We both were. Ugh.

But things would be okay. I would finish putting away my clothes. And decided to start my next project.

I had changed my mind about the shelves we got at Ikea for the living room and so I wanted to use them still and decided that they could be good for the little room. I would have to assemble them, and used a level. But they still came out slightly crooked. But I think they are great.

I would finish putting those together around noon. And would pick some objects and books to go on the shelves. I then sent some time putting objects on those shelves and rearranging the layout of the books. James had put them by topic or genre. And I did not change that but I put some laying down so I could put things on them and I then it looks great. I love the progress being made.

I attempted to move the small sofa next. This is not heavy but it is awkward and the house is kind of narrow. So this was no small task. I moved everything off the sofa and started sliding it to the stairs.

I was able to get the thing up the first step of stairs. But then it got stuck and I had to climb over the banister and pull myself up to get over onto the landing to try and pull. And I got it up but it was getting stuck on the book case. And then it was just trapped. I could only laugh.

Right before I had started the sofa project I had put a little pizza in the oven. And of course this is when the timer went off.

So I had to climb under the sofa to get down the stairs to get my lunch. I bumped my head and the whole thing was pretty comical.

I had my lunch and started hanging small shelves next to the pantry in the kitchen. And it's very eclectic, like everything else. And I am not 100% sure it's the final placement but it was fun to do. Even when it was very frustrating. Like when I couldn't get the hardware to line up the way I wanted. But it was still fun in the end.

I tried the couch again. But it kept getting stuck on the banister. And I was able to stand it up at least so I could go upstairs in down the stairs and it was fine. James would help me later.

I was still feeling really bad about myself. And I thought that maybe a day time shower would help. I also deciding to use some of my hair glaze to see if that would help me feel better. And honestly it really did. The shower actually got warm, it just took forever. But I got clean and washed the glaze out of my hair and I felt more like myself.

I did my makeup and actually partially dried my hair with a hair dryer. And I put on a jumpsuit I had pulled out of storage that I absolutely love. And all of this helped me feel a lot better.

The glaze stained my fingernails so I would take my polish off. And while I was thinking about my next move I went and got paint and tape and started preparing the stairwell to get painted.

I then started a really painting. And I was just having a lot of fun. I was only going to paint around the tape but then I just kept painting. I listened to a documentary while I painted and it was just lovely.

I would lose some steam and got tired. I would get on the couch with sweetp and cuddled up there and waited for James to come home. And they would get back a little after 5. They didn't even have a jacket on! It was very nice out. I had stood outside for a little. I hope nice weather continues.

We would hang out on the couch together. And talk about the day. And eventually we went to the stairs to get the little sofa up to the small room.

And it was a little tough but we worked together and got it up there and I'm really pleased.

We decided we would go to a diner for dinner. And it was a nice time. We took a back roads way and got to see some parts of Greek Town I hadn't seen yet. And the diner was great.

We talked about the plans tomorrow. Our home depot list. Everything that has to get done. Busy day. But hopefully it just keeps bringing our home together.

We had some laughs and talked and it was a good dinner. And I was ready to go home.

When we got back here I would clean the frog tank. Which is always so dirty. But it's so much easier to clean now that it's not on top of a tall book case. And James would cut their hair (I had to fix the back after they took a chunk out of the back!!) and grab a shower. They would also help hang the vacuum in the basement finally. And I would hang some art in the small room. It's really coming together.

I got into jammies and have been in our room for a bit now. I am still wheezing a little. I am ready to go to sleep. Hopefully I can lay down because I had to sit up as my breathing was being so weird. But I am okay right now. Despite the wheezing.

Tomorrow we have much to do. And I hope we get a whole lot done. I hope you all have a nice day. Take care of yourself! Until next time!

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aretaix · 1 year

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5. pressed petals

Aya takes up caring for the school garden. Prompt: Flower language For the year of the OTP event.

Read on Ao3

Topics: Aya/Sig, one shot, flower language

Word count: 930

She'd taken up gardening in recent months. Klug suggested it, really. They said it'd be a good way to familiarize herself with her new vessel, get herself moving, and get outside more.

He made a sound argument, but she was reluctant to be outside where the sun would be beating down on her for hours at a time. Reading about plants and how to care for them was one thing, but actually *caring* for plants was something else entirely. She couldn't think of a good counterargument though, so she started by volunteering for the gardening duties at school just to get them off her back. It was a simple job and all she had to do was work in the school garden, and everyone was more than happy to help the "new" student with caring for the luneflowers and other flowers planted in the garden. Contrary to everyone's expectations, she ended up being the one to teach them about the flowers rather than the other way around.

Luneflowers really were lovely flowers, perhaps her favorite after her beloved hydrangeas, and they invoked such fond memories in her heart... Well, maybe "memories" is too strong of a word. More accurately, they filled her with a sense of longing and nostalgia--a bittersweet sadness. She could never assign a face to those feelings, so her mind just conjured a blurry mess of colors and faint voices that had faded over time. She tried not to dwell on those feelings, at least not anymore. Thinking about it for too long would just give her another splitting headache and force her back into the cramped pages of that dusty book...

She returned from her brief daydream and looked down at the old metal watering can she was gripping. She wondered how long she'd been standing there holding that. Embarrassed, she looked around like a nervous animal to see if anyone saw her do something so embarrassing. Her shoulders relaxed once she determined that there was no one in the immediate vicinity... She always came a bit earlier than the others after school since she tended to space out like this *and* she wanted the chance to do something without others watching...

With a delicate hand, she plucked a petal from one of the luneflowers and a small blooming anemone. She sat on a wooden bench fashioned from a log, fished a small book out of her pocket, and tucked the blossom and the petal lovingly between the pages. Other dried specimens crunched as she turned the pages to the newest blank ones. She penned the date and type of flower on the pages and then closed the book, inserting it back into her pocket with a swift motion.

"Are you allowed to do that?"

Aya stood at the sudden voice and turned around. It was just Sig... oh, right, Sig was her duty partner today, weren't they? He stood behind the bench with a net in his hands, meaning that he was probably catching bugs before the assigned duty time after school as usual...

"It's fine as long as I'm not caught, isn't it?" She retorted while averting her gaze from him back to the flowers.

"Just asking. Never thought about doing that, is all," he stepped over the bench as he spoke, then laid the bug net on the flat surface. "Are you saving them for something?"

Aya looked back at him, then to the flowers, then back to him. ...She didn't expect him to understand, but she withdrew the book again and flipped to the first few pages. Dried flowers and petals were were pressed to the pages, their colors bleeding onto the off-white paper of the notebook. "Nothing in particular," she muttered. "I lack most of our--my memories-- so I thought keeping physical reminders would be...good... for me," she shut the book again and thrust it back into her pocket, eager to get this awkward interaction out of the way so they could both go home. "Even if they're bound to rot eventually, I want something to show that I was here." She gazed at the flowers again, that same bittersweet feeling creeping its way into her heart once more.

"...Kinda like the luneflowers, huh," Sig replied, though she couldn't tell if it was a question or a statement. He picked up a trowel and began to work in the garden, plucking weeds and removing other foreign objects in the soil.

"What do you mean?" Aya asked, quickly following suit with a pair of gardening scissors as she pruned and cut dying blossoms form the flowers.

"You mentioned it yesterday," he continued, "That luneflowers have been in Primp as long as you can remember. Even before Primp existed, you said." They looked inquisitively into the large discs of the flower and continued their work, "They're sort of like a reminder from the people before Primp that they were here before, even if no one's around to tell us anymore."

Aya stopped her work and looked at the flowers.

"I suppose it's similar," She snipped a bud that had been burnt by the sun. "...I suppose that is what they mean to us now, but I wonder what they meant before..." she gently lifted a drooping flower head and thought of her lost memories once more.

"Maybe they don't really need to *mean* anything," Sig stood and dusted the dirt off his hands. "Maybe it's okay for them to just be a reminder."

Aya looked up at him, then once more to the flowers, and smiled bitterly.

"I suppose so."

#sig #strange klug #puyo puyo #one shot #fanfic #yotp 2023 #ayasig

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syrupwit · 2 years

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B28. pretending that you're only flirting as your LARP character but actually meaning it OOC too for Anders and whoever?

Hey, thank you very much! Have ~930 words of Anders/Karl Thekla, set in their youth at the Fereldan Circle, under the cut for @dadrunkwriting.

It was midnight in the library at Kinloch Hold, an inauspicious setting. Slivers of light from the moons penetrated through the high, ornate windows.

The shelves creaked as the old tower settled, the books jostling against each other like very tired children. Soft rustling came from one particular direction, and Anders leaned around the corner, peering for its source—

“Anders!” That was Karl, hushed, a hand at his elbow. “It’s not our cue yet. After Banni stabs Petra and she drops the scarf, remember?”

“This is getting too complicated,” Anders whispered back. “I thought it was supposed to be a game, not a theater production.”

“Stop talking, or you’ll get us all caught,” whispered Niall, who had no guts.

There was more rustling, and Petra strode from behind a bookshelf. Her long red hair had been coiled in an elaborate style, and a sheet was knotted around her in imitation of the ancient fashions of Tevinter. She held a ragged red scarf balled in her fist.

Petra stood around for a minute with a hand on her hip, trying to look imposing and powerful. She was playing Flavius Vopiscus, a magister about to be assassinated by his political rival.

Banni, a small, curly-haired elf also clad in a sheet, darted out from behind the same shelf. Banni cut her hair impulsively every six months, and it was currently in an awkward growing-out phase, all fluffy and frizzed. In one hand, she held a—

“Is that a candlestick?” Anders whispered.

“Take it up with the props department,” Karl whispered. “At least it’s not still lit.” The front of his shoulder was pressed warmly against the back of Anders’ arm, and he didn’t move away when Anders leaned back into him.

“Can you stop,” hissed Niall, who had no sense of fun, either. He didn’t deserve to play the unsophisticated, but cunning and ambitious hedge-wizard who would bid to end his apprenticeship under a tyrannical magister early by solving Vopiscus’s murder.

Banni jabbed the candlestick at Petra. Petra didn’t notice, too absorbed in being Flavius Vopiscus, so Banni jabbed her again. The candle fell off its candlestick and landed on the floor with a thud, the sound over-amplified in the quiet library.

Everyone froze: Banni and Petra, Anders and his companions, the many apprentices hidden and waiting for their cues around the library. Not a breath could be heard. The number one rule of this game was silence.

Anders took the opportunity to fumble for Karl’s hand. He laced their fingers together and squeezed, as if frightened, and was pleased to feel Karl tentatively squeeze back.

Ten heartbeats later, or a few more than that, no Templars or enchanters had appeared to punish them. The game resumed.

Petra swooned and dropped her scarf to the floor, representing her spilt blood; Banni picked up her candle and candlestick and fled. Anders was sure that he was forgetting something, distracted by Karl’s hand in his.

“It’s your cue, idiots,” whispered Niall.

“Let’s go,” whispered Karl, and let go of his hand to gently push him forward.

They were playing a pair of slaves who would initially find Vopiscus’s body. Roles in the game were picked by a complicated lottery system that could be overridden by the will of the majority, and since everyone knew Anders was at fault for the grease incident on the stairs the other week, he had been assigned a small and unexciting one.

Karl had elected to double up the role and join him, because the grease incident was secretly his fault. He was noble like that. Loyal. Anders hoped there might be more to it, but there’d been no sign, aside from things like letting Anders hold his hand and hug him all the time. Which could mean anything, and—

“Anders!” Either Karl or Niall prodded him.

Anders stepped forward. He liked being the center of attention. He grabbed for Karl’s hand again, and tugged him along, right behind him.

At Petra’s side, they mimed and gestured through the appropriate reactions: shock, fear, a frantic search for help. Karl, who could be shy, was emoting more than usual. He kept grabbing Anders by the shoulders and then letting go of him to wave his arms around, conveying panic.

Anders was seized, then, by a mad notion. Karl was still flailing around, overdoing it a bit really. He took hold of Karl’s wrists, stilled his arms, and moved his hands up to Karl’s shoulders—one character trying to comfort the other, calm him down enough to reason with him.

Karl was looking straight into his eyes. Anders could tell that the others were getting impatient; Niall, whose character was attending a party at Vopiscus’s home with his evil master, was supposed to walk in and discover the scene any moment. Before he could think better of it, he dove forward and kissed him.

It was only a short, dry smack of lips, and Karl was too startled to kiss back or push him away. Anders heard a soft gasp from someone, followed by shushing.

Then Niall arrived and nearly pushed them out of the way, muttering under his breath about attention hogs.

“What was that about?” said Karl to Anders, very softly, when they had hustled several shelves away and had a semblance of privacy.

“It made sense for my character,” whispered Anders.

“No it didn’t.”

Karl had a mild temperament, despite his occasional ventures into mischief and opinion-having, and was not often challenging. There was a challenge in his expression, however, when Anders marshaled the courage to look at him.

#midnightprelude #dadwc #dadwc fill

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altmxjtustidls24 · 1 year

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미스터 션샤인 다시보기 1회~24회 (완결) TVN 드라

미스터 션샤인 다시보기 1회~24회 (완결) TVN 드라마

When Michael set up a strategy to expose himself to the atmosphere full of toxic gas to catch the 'red angel', he showed his affection and concern for Michael, which he usually did not reveal. When Michael was really about to suffocate, he tried to rescue Michael, but was stopped by Spock.

When Michael's biological mother, Dr. Gabriel Burnham, who was known to have been killed by the Klingons 20 years ago, appears, Roland, infected by Control [17], gives instructions to kill Dr. Burnham. Philippa, pretending to follow Rand's instructions, goes to Dr. Burnham and has a conversation.[18] And she is implied that Rand has something to do with control, along with a request from Dr. Burnham to take good care of Michael. When Roland appeared to kill Dr. Burnham himself and attacked Michael, Major Paul Stametz, and Lieutenant Colonel Nan, he fought back against Roland and bought Michael and his party time. In order to prevent sentient life in the universe from being wiped out by Control, Michael is tasked with sending the Discovery 930 years into the future, where the Sphere data is stored. But you can only go to the future, you can't come back. At this time, many colleagues on the Discovery show their loyalty by volunteering to go to an unknown future with Michael, and Philippa also decides to go with them. Control attacks to prevent the Discovery from going to the future, and in the midst of a fierce battle, Leland enters the Discovery to steal the Sphere data. Fighting with Leland, he lures him into the engineer's office, and succeeds in disassembling and defeating Leland using his own power, and goes through the wormhole with the other members of the Discovery to the future. After crash-landing on a certain planet, he appears with the dead Leland's flesh buried in his shoes (…), which frightens Tilly. When he learns that the Discovery is badly broken down and he can't contact Michael, he becomes worried and nervous, acting nervously, craving little Tilly and insulting Saroo, the acting captain. Still, when Saroo and Tilly were about to get into trouble while contacting the locals, she secretly followed them and rescued them.[19]

Fortunately, Michael, who had arrived a year before the Discovery, found the Discovery and came to find it. When Michael and the Discovery crew reunite emotionally, Philippa stands behind her and watches the scene. When Michael recognizes Philippa while embracing with his colleagues and nods happily, he suppresses his emotions like an Earth Imperial and walks away without a response. Realizing that Michael has changed while living without his colleagues and is unable to adapt to his original life, he throws a quick ball at Michael, and he makes Book (Cleveland Booker), who he has been close to helping Michael, openly ask about his relationship with Michael, embarrassing the book. . It's like a picky mother asking her daughter's boyfriend for the first time.

After Discovery joins Starfleet Headquarters, all members of Discovery are interrogated [20], and Philippa is also interrogated by Kovich [21]. Kovik informs shocking information that the Earth Empire, which Philippa ruled over, has already perished long ago, and that the prime universe and the mirror universe have become increasingly distant, and that no one has crossed the two universes in the past 500 years.[22] He pretends to be calm in front of Kovik, but after that, he doesn't hear at all even though Michael calls him several times right in front of him, and shows strange behavior by standing in a daze.

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appareils-futiles · 1 year

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This I have to do before Saturday (that I've mostly been putting off because of my depression and lack of attention span):

1. Fundamentals of Communication home work + submit by 5:30pm (it's due by Tuesday but since Monday is a holiday, I'd rather it be received Asap...by ASAP I mean no later than Saturday night cause timed stuff takes priority)

2. 3rd Criminal Justice essay (its due tonight by 11:59pm, despite it being given to me on Monday, I haven't even started it yet, I have to do both essays by 5:50pm cause my 1 class today ends at 930 and I do the 30 while live tweeting svu )

3. 2nd Psychology Essay (due tonight by 7:55pm despite classes atarting at 6:30pm, but this one takes priority today. I refuse to fall behind because of my lack of attention span)

4. Finish the notes/highlight for the 1st video watched for Critical Analysis class. (Not graded not really 100% necessary to do, but I already started so it is what it is)

5. Watch 2nd video for Critical Analysis class, take/highlight notes. (Same as above)

6. "Be Specific" questionnaire that probably isn't going to be checked just like the last 3 things I've done for this critical analysis class 🙄 that I fight with this professor about every single week. Twice a week. It isn't due until the 30th but I'll get done before that because 1, time, 2 work and 3 she likes to change dates. So, it is what it is. Gotta get done regardless.

I really need to learn to do my work as soon as I get it especially now that I finally picked up another client. 😩

It's 850am, I've been up since a little before 7am, laying in bed watching a doc about presidential assassinations

Damn attention span. 😒

Update 1: I completely forgot we had an open book test for psych class and although the professor told us it was all multiple choice it turns out that 21 or 45 questions were written and the rest were multiple choice. As a perfectionist with adhd, I like to spell, indent, properly word my responses do from 6: to 9:30, I couldn't finish. 😪 thankfully she gave us a longer time until Saturday right before midnight.

Update 2: the essay was hard since it's hard for me to read via Kindle pdf since there's no search to look up what I needed so I had to figure something else out and eventually, finished it with the best ending sentence: The last line said:" every day we have new scientists, new specialists, new studies and new discoveries. They all differ yet they have one thing in common, they all seek to know more than meets the eye"

Ofcourse my computer freezes and I had to finish via my phone, in the same time I tried to send it via browser kn my phone I have to restart the computer and then it's slow and it literally was marked late because THEY processed it at exactly 11:59 when it was due. 🙄 shout out to my 3 classmates who helped and encouraged me and didn't leave me until they knew it was uploaded. They are the real MVPs! This Is definitely an A+ paper.

Update 3: but now I have a whole new thing to give in before Saturday since I have a new patient.

1. Criminal Justice essay

2. Fundamentals 6Qs

3. Critical Analysis 6Qs

4. Finish quiz for psych.

5. OFcourse aplia.

Aplia I can do Sunday but the other ones are definitely due before Tuesday.

So I may be off for a while. Hopefully.

#me myself i and yours truly #appareils-futiles #attention span #adhd #college student

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aamethyst000 · 2 years

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Oct 26,22 5:48pm

today, I actually woke up at 7:50am this morning! then I made the mistake of taking a nap and forgot to set my damn alarm, almost slept in past 1130am. I made Danny's lunch then had puff, and made my lunch after he left for school. took my mums puppers outside, poor things had to go out in the rain and aggressive wind. it is really cold outside even I don't want to go iut for a walk. as pretty as this weather is, it is not worth the pictures if I get sick again.

I started doing laundry around 4:30, doing both the towels and my laundry. then made our second pot of coffee. I then wrote in my journal for any personal stuff I am keeping for just me and my therapist to read. I'm only 60 pages in and I have to prepare to buy another journal book. pretty soon, I will need a book with more than 300 pages. this is already my third journal and I'm going to need to buy a fourth one before the end of the year, like, goddamn. I am impressed.

7:07pm - I am on my second load of laundry, I was going to call it a night only because I thought it was already 930. it is only 7!! so I think I am going to do one more load and then just rest, I took something out for dinner tomorrow, I just don't have the energy to cook tonight. poor dogs, had to go outside in the rain and wind. so fckn cold too, power might blink or go out at some point. I'm suspicious, so I am charging my phone and my rechargeable batteries for my purple lights.

9:34pm - had a little nap earlier, the weather is just getting worse and worse but also very fascinating. so, I am just expecting the power to go out at some point. apparently, we were supposed to have some thunderstorm sometime tomorrow. none of the poor dogs like this weather, they always want back in right away. which is understandable, like damn, it's fckn cold

#happy #photographer nature #photographer amethyst000 #journalist amethyst000 #photographer #photography #nature #journalist #journaling #journal #blogger #blog #2spirit #queer #lgbt #lgbtq

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pbandjesse · 5 months

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Happy Christmas everyone. Why is Christmas so hard emotionally? It was not a terrible day, it wasn't even a bad day, but I did struggle. I found moments of joy but it was still tough and I felt a lot of inner stress.

I slept alright last night. James would have the painful sinuses and I had a sore throat. I think the air is just very dry. Messing with us for sure.

But I felt pretty good this morning. I was trying to be positive and be happy and send happy to people I care about because it's Christmas! And I wanted to be happy for Christmas.

I went to get dressed and ready for the day and I felt very pretty. James had their sweatshirt over their clothes but would change before we left and they looked so handsome.

I was a little frustrated that I did not have any caffeine all day. Like I know it's not healthy but I have a soda for breakfast every day. And there was none for me and it is my fault for not thinking about it but I was bummed and I'm sure it put me in a weird space all day. And then there was a distinct lack of breakfast. I just had to try and power through.

We left here around 930. It was about a half hour to "the club house", which is a private space that the Cantler part of the family rented in the private community. And it was very large and fancy. And it was honestly a great space for the day.

I really enjoyed seeing everyone but I was for sure in a weird head space that I had to very purposely push that aside. It was Christmas and I was determined to be happy and feel good.

Eating helped. The pallet I have is not the same of their family's. It has always been an issue. But I tried to find stuff I like even if it was not exactly how I would have enjoyed them. There were eggs but they were cold and had mushrooms in it. And there were croissants, which were great but I would have liked them more with jam. I don't like eating stuff without a sauce or dip. So everything felt like. Unfinished. Incomplete. But I ate at least and that helped.

After breakfast it was time for stockings. Ezra and Miriam were very excited for gifts. And it was a lot of fun opening things and James got me a few great things. An antique pocket calendar. Some beautiful circle earrings that I love so much. A ring that I do like but is slightly to small but once I did that it will be great. I also got a bunch of snacks and some more Deae America books that I am very excited about. Two of them are boys! I barely ever get the boy ones. I am excited to have something else to read.

I liked watching James open their gifts from me. And I think they liked them. I also just liked watching everyone else too. It was a lot of fun. Despite feeling a little off and a little sad, I was still having a nice time. It was shocking how much some people got for their stocking person. I think me and James did a pretty good job not going crazy crazy.

After all the paper was cleaned up some people went to get cleaned up, a few things were picked up from houses. And then we all came back together for tree gifts. We started a very silly chant about waiting for uncle Will, and tree gift time, and we were being very silly.

It was decided that we would do one round robin. But first Ezra and Eve acted as elves and handed out everyone's gifts. It was very silly being covered in different boxes.

I got to open a very cool camera lucida in front of everyone. James did very good with this gift and I was genuinely surprised. I had showed them the kick-started for that a long time ago and hadn't thought about it since. And James opened a very good vintage cup. Then it was a bit of a free for all. Opening gifts. I think I may request that me and James open things slower together next time because I liked to see them open the things I get them. But I enjoyed seeing what I did.

I also enjoyed my gifts. Aunt Mary got us Christmas trolls that are darling. Cate and Aiden got me a chicken purse which made me laugh because I think I got that for Jess a few years ago.

James also got me a purrble. I love this thing. A top gift for me for sure. He's basically kind of a hamster heavy furby type of robot but his purrs and vibrates and has a heartbeat and is a science backed tool for calming anxiety. And it is seriously so pleasant to hold. I have named mine Percy. I also loved that his box is for a love animal I love the pageantry of that. Such a sweet detail.

I was feeling overly stressed at this point. Which is when my eye started twitching and has been twitching all day and it has sucked and drained me a bit. And I got overly upset for who knows what. I have no reason to be upset about gifts. But for some reason I was and I feel mad at myself about it. Like I feel like a brat but I got worked up and I did not like that. So I tried to focus on everyone else and enjoying seeing what they got.

Eve made me a candle on a pa dutch county pitcher that I thought was so cool. She made basically everyone candles this year which was pretty cool because I did too but in a different way! It was neat to see our different takes on it. And everyone who got one of my beaded ornaments seemed really excited and said it was very pretty and cool.

Speaking of ornaments. The tree that Jan had had Cliff and Eve Carey over was decorated just with pictures. And that was just so sweet. I thought that was such a nice idea. And it was fun finding different pictures of baby James but also me and James and Jess even made it on there. And one of my bears. It was so cute.

There was a lull after that. We got to go for a walk around the very woodsy neighborhood. James, Charlotte, Tucker, and me got to go to Will and Jan's summer home and get a tour. I was surprised to hear they bought it furnished. But it was fun to see and it has great views.

We would walk back and I would cuddle up on the couch to try to recharge. I drew for a bit. I had been drawing with Ezra and Miriam for a bit. They thought drawing on the tablet was the coolest thing. And I am really enjoying coming up with a general plan for each room. It's funny perspective for sure but I am enjoying getting my ideas out in a way James can understand the vision. They said they appreciate me doing it in a way they can see.

As the afternoon went on I insisted on using taking some nice pictures. Getting the right light was tough but I got a few that I was really happy with. And despite me feeling up about nonsense I was still really happy with my husband and I felt, and feel, very in love and that is really what I am most thankful for.

I was losing steam and was glad when they put out cheese and crackers. They weren't ones I particularly like. A lot of goat and very bitter cheeses. But it was fine. And the older family members were starting to set the big tables they had set up and everything looked so nice.

When it was time for dinner we had Christmas crackers first. Paper crowns. Riddles and puzzle toys. I had to look at a video to solve mine. We were being really silly and I was trying to stay positive even if I was flagging a bit.

I was worried about the food. This family does one meal for Christmas and I just don't like it. But I lucked out this year. White rice instead of wild rice. And Leah brought a hummus plate with lots of things I liked. And I was able to make a very silly plate that was basically a Greek chipotle bowl and I really liked it. So despite my fears I actually enjoyed my dinner.

I mostly enjoyed the company though. We talked about the house and I was able to be excited about it. And I was able to share some fears but also some things that feel like wins. And it was nice to hear about everyone else's journeys.

It was fun. And despite my upset feelings inside, I was happy to help start picking up and getting things ready to put everything back so we could go. James would handle all of the dishes which was very impressive. I would help Charlotte and Leah being things to the car and then drive it back to the house. Which was honestly so nice because I got to chat with Leah a bit and I really like her. And when we were at the house I got to pet the cats and they were babies and so sweet.

When we got back I kept helping. But I would also stop to play a game with Eve and Ezra. Walking up the stairs I also got a little dizzy so I went and leaned on James while they cleaned for a bit.

The cleaning went really well though and we were all giving hugs and saying goodbye pretty quickly. And then it was time to go.

I told James in the car about my upset feelings. How I know they are dumb and misplaced. But they are still there. Talking about it helped. Christmas is just always hard.

We got back here and being out of the big celebration made me feel a lot better honestly. Showering and being in my jammies helped too. I got to be alone for a bit. And that helped me feel a lot better.

James and the family were in the living room watching football while I worked on this in the room. But James just came to lay down. And I want to do that too. It is time to rest.

I hope you all have a lovely Christmas. No matter what that looks like. I love you all. Wish us luck on our travels tomorrow. Goodnight everyone.

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starryevermore · 2 years

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between the lines ✧ steven grant

the good life ✧ a steven grant anthology | ao3

pairing: steven grant x fem!librarian!reader

request: How about Steven and a librarian!reader, who’s also sort of like Steven? A bit insecure, shy, etc. He meets her when going to research more Egyptian history or something. It’s post-Moon Knight so, Steven has a little more confidence than before. - @blackwidownat2814

summary: steven has a crush on a little librarian.

word count: 2,412

warnings?: fluff, general awkwardness, pet name (love), not proofread

Why are you even going to the library?, Marc asked as Steven caught his reflection in Gus’s fish tank. Steven, suddenly aware of the state of his hair, started combing his fingers through it, trying to make it look somewhat presentable. Don’t you have a million books here?

“It’s always good to support your local libraries,” Steven dismissed, giving up on his hair. He was almost certain he was making it worse. “The more ya use them, the more fundin’ they get. They’re very important to the community.”

And that’s why you keep buying a billion more books?

“Didn’t you just say I had a million? Make up your mind, Marc,” Steve said. “Anyways, got lots of books to check out. Laters, gators.”

Steven had started going to the library years and years ago to research more into Egyptian history and the mythology. Back then, he was really struggling to make ends meet with a job that just barely paid minimum wage. So, he couldn’t really afford to buy the books he was interested in. The library was his only choice. And it was the library where he fell in love.

Not with the books, though.

With you.

You were a recent graduate with a Master’s in Library Science. An American, he had realized quickly when he heard your accent, though it was clear enough that you had been living in England for quite some time. He’d wondered if you’d also gotten your bachelor’s in England, too. Regardless, you had only recently started working at the library, nervously flitting through the shelves, trying to organize them.

“Last librarian didn’t care one bit about making sure this place run smoothly,” he’d heard you muttering to yourself as you pushed a cart around. “Clearly didn’t care about the patrons either. Who the hell has this many James Patterson novels? Do people even still read these? Not a single person’s checked one out in the last month I’ve been here. And yet they take up a whole damn shelf! We could put so many better things there! Ugh, I should put some of these in the sale pile, bet no one would even notice to care.”

Steven had cleared his through, waving slightly to catch your attention. You jumped when you saw him, nearly tumbling over your cart. “Oh dear! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to give ya a fright. It’s just my first time at the library, ya know, and I don’t really know my way around and it’s been a long time since I’ve been in one, so I’m not quite sure where to begin looking, or if you’d even have any, but, um, do you happen to have any books on ancient Egypt? The history of it, I mean?”

You were clutching your hand to your chest, trying to catch your breath. “Um, yeah, we do! They’re in the nonfiction section. Though, I suppose you would have guessed that…Um, if you go straight down this way, you’ll see the stairs. Take ‘em straight up to the second floor and go to your left. It’s all organized by the Dewey Decimal System, which is a terrible system and I’m thinking of overhauling it. Just need to figure out a better way to organize, ya know. Um, it should be the 900s. I think maybe in the 930’s? If I’m wrong, there should be a few diagrams listed on the ends of each shelf to direct you. We actually just got these really interesting book the other day. The Book of the Dead, I think? I don’t think anyone’s checked it out and…I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“I ramble too!” Steven said. “I think people think it’s annoying. Actually, I know they do. My co-workers are all the time rolling their eyes and ignoring me whenever I go off on a tangent.”

You smiled a bit. “Well, my fellow rambler, feel free to go off on a tangent with me about whatever amazing book you decide to check out, okay? I’ve been wanting to learning more about ancient histories, and I think you could be a great person to learn from.” Your face fell slightly, your eyes going wide. “Not that you should feel like you have to! It’s totally your choice. Like, if you’d rather only talk when you have questions about the library or are checking out a book, fine by me! I don’t want you to feel like you’re being shoe-horned into a friendship! Shoot, I’m so bad at this…”

“No, no, you’re perfectly well! Wonderful, even!” Steven flushed, realizing his words. “I-I mean…I would love to talk to you about the books I read.”

“It’s a date then!” You frowned, your brows furrowing together. “Not, like, a real date, I mean. Unless you want to make it a real date! That would be fine, too. But, I-I mean…”

“Maybe start as friends?” Steven suggested. Then he held out his hand, trembling slightly. “Hi friend, my name’s Steven. With a ‘V’.”

“Oh, good. Stephen’s with a ‘PH’ are right assholes. Met one back when I was on vacation in New York a few years ago, and I swear I’ve been met a more pretentious asshole in my life. And…I’m rambling again, aren’t I?” you said. “What were we talking about? Oh! Right, I should introduce myself. I’m Y/N.”

And from there on out, an awkward sort of friendship began to bloom.

Any time Steven finished a book, he would come to talk to you about what he learned, what his favorite parts were. And you would always listen, face propped on your hand, nodding along, asking questions when you were confused and when you could tell he was particularly interested in stuff. You liked when he went on tangents. Said it made you feel better when you went on tangents yourself.

But Steven loved your tangents. He loved the way your eyes would brighten, how you spoke with your hands, waving them around as you talked about your favorite books. Steven liked to read what you read. He felt like that gave him a good insight into who you were. He liked knowing you were a fan of romance. Sometimes, he would daydream about what his life would be like if he could finally man up and ask you out on a real date, if he could sweep you off your feet, if he could make you feel like your life was a fairytale.

Steven had always been so sure that that would remain a fantasy. He was an awkward sort of guy. The few times he had tried asking you out, you’d been totally oblivious. But now…After everything that happened with Marc and Khonshu and Layla and defeating Harrow and Ammit, Steven was ready to give it a crack at it again.

And, he owed you an apology, too. He did sort of disappear without a word.

When Steven arrived at the library, he found you in the the children’s section. Oh, that’s right. You always had an hour’s worth of activities planned for the children each week.

He looked at the books scattered about, a small smile on his lips. The Kane Chronicles? Magic Tree House: Mummies in the Morning? The Egypt Game?

“Hi, love,” he said, when he got closer.

Your head jerked up, your eyes going wide.

Then—

“Steven!” you shouted when you saw him, jumping up and throwing your arms around his waist. You squeezed him tight, burying your face in his chest, like you were scared you were going to lose him. “Oh, Steven, you doofus! You had me worried sick! Where the hell have you been?!”

Oh. I see why you like the library now, Marc said. Steven could practically see him wiggling his eyebrows.

“Sorry, love, I got a bit busy,” he said, wrapping his arms around you. Oh. Oh, he liked this.

“I couldn’t find you at all,” you mumbled. “Even went to the museum you said you worked at, and they told me you’d been fired! I was so worried something happened to you.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Steven said, fighting the urge to kiss the top of your head. “I…just needed to get out of the city for a bit. But I’m back now, and I’m gonna make it to you, yeah?”

You pulled away, sniffling slightly. Oh, he hadn’t meant to make you cry. “Deal. But you gotta start by helping me clean up here.”

“Of course, love,” he said, kneeling down, collecting the scattered papers and crayons. “So, what’d you do with the young’uns today?”

You ducked your head down. “I thought it would be nice to tell ‘em some stories about ancient Egypt. Pulled some fiction books, too, in case they preferred that. Printed off some coloring pages.”

“What is because you missed me?”

Damn, Steven. That was almost smooth, Marc said.

“Maybe,” you mumbled. “You’re one of my only friends.” Then, your head jerked up, as if you realized what you said. “I mean, I have other friends. I totally have other friends. I’m in, like, a bajillion group chats and stuff. And, and…”

“It’s okay,” Steven said, reaching out, grabbing your hand, “You’re one of my only friends, too.”

You stared at where your hands connected, trying to figure out what to say. You almost looked like you were going to say something about him holding your hand. But then you clicked your tongue, saying, “Would you like some of the leftover coloring pages? I was just gonna leave them out on the circulation desk or maybe over here, in case other kids swung by and wanted to color. But, uh, you’re free to take some, too.”

Steven shook his head. “As fun as that would be, I don’t know if I’m the right demographic to be coloring.”

“Anyone can color though. I mean, they make adult coloring books, don’t they? So clearly coloring is a rated E for everything sort of thing,” you said. “But honestly, kid’s coloring pages are so much better than the ones they make for adults. Like, adult’s coloring books are so detailed and really hard to see sometimes and it can get really hard to focus, so I don’t really see how anyone can relax coloring those pages. But kid’s coloring books? So easy. Don’t have to think too hard, you feel less guilty about coloring outside the lines since you don’t feel like you’re ruining someone’s work of art. Not to say that kid’s coloring pages aren’t works of art but…Shoot, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

Steven couldn’t stop the smile from taking over his face. “It’s alright, love. I don’t mind. You know that.” He cleared his throat. “So, what’s the best coloring pages you’ve got?”

“Oh, um, a lot, actually! There’s the Sphinx, some pyramids, an ankh. I think there might be a few of some gods and goddesses?” You hummed quietly, flipping through the sheets you had in front of you. “Looks like we got Osiris, Set, Isis…Um, ooh we got Taweret! I didn’t know we had her, actually. I think I’ll keep that one for myself. And…uh, I don’t think I know this one?”

Steven looked at the page you were showing him, almost laughing to himself. “That’s Khonshu, god of the moon. Though, honestly, he looks more like a bird brain in real life.”

“Huh?”

His eyes widened when he realized what he said. “Oh, uh, I mean…I just went to Egypt, ya see. Saw some of the art and stuff, ya know. Just thought he looked more like a bird brain.”

“Oh, ok!” You pushed the page towards him. “D’ya wanna color him in then? Make him look a bit more accurate?”

“Can we color together? If you’re not too busy?”

Go, Steven, go! Go, Steven, go!, Marc cheered.

You smiled softly, reaching for the basket full of crayons, placing them where you both could reach. “I’ve always got time for you, Steven.”

And so the two of you knelt at a table meant for children, Steven ignoring the aches in his knees, focusing instead on how much he enjoyed being with you. How you focused so intently on your coloring. How you didn’t care too much about making sure things stayed inside the lines, instead working on the masterpiece in front of you.

“That looks really good,” Steven said as you placed your crayons back in the bin.

You smiled at him, glancing at his. “Yours, too. Hey, maybe we could trade? I take yours, you take mine.”

“You want my coloring page?” Steven asked.

“Yeah, well, I mean, if you want to switch! You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m sorry. It was a stupid idea, you can just forget about it—”

Steven reached across the tiny table, grabbing your head. “I’ll trade coloring pages with you if you promise to go on a date with me tonight.”

“A date? You wanna go on a date with me?“

“I wanna go on a million dates with you, love,” Steven said.

You smiled a bit bigger. “I-I didn’t think you liked me like that, Steven.”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re brilliant! You’re so smart, and you’re so kind. You love this library as if it were your own child. You’re always nice to people, even if they don’t deserve it. You listen to me ramble, and you actually care about what I say…Love, you’re amazing, and I would be so lucky to date you.”

You leaned over, your lips brushing over his cheek. “I would love to go on a date with you, Steven.”

“Good,” Steven laughed, “because I’ve asked you out three times already, and this is the first time you noticed.”

You ducked your head down. “Oh. Oh, dear. Well, thank you for sticking around. I’ve always been a bit oblivious.”

“Well, at least we can be oblivious together,” Steven said. He reached for your coloring page, switching it with his own. “I’m gonna go figure out what we’ll do for dinner, then I’ll come by when you get off work, yeah?”

“I can’t wait,” you said. “Oh, and by the way, if it matters in what you decide, I’m a vegetarian.��

“Me too!”

Okay, so what we’re saying is, no steakhouse?, Marc grumbled.

And Steven thought back, “Definitely no steakhouse. We both know what happened the last time I ate steak.”

#steven grant imagine #steven grant x female reader #steven grant x y/n #steven grant x reader #steven grant x fem!reader #steven grant x you #steven grant fic #steven grant fanfic #steven grant fan fic #steven grant fan fiction #steven grant fanfiction #starrywrites #starryevermore

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mystery-star · 3 years

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Of Trifles and Truffles – Spock

Pairing: Spock x reader (gender neutral)

Warnings: mentions of (past) negative thinking/overthinking

Words: 930

Star Trek universe: Any

Oh how you sometimes wished to be able to suppress your emotions or govern your mind as your husband could. It annoyed you that just a bad day or bad thoughts could upset you so much and of course, the thoughts wouldn’t leave making everything worse as you thought of it. Of course you could talk to others about it but they would recommend you just that; to not think of it. With a groan you closed the book on your PADD and connected the device to your wall screen to watch a movie instead. Your comfort movie. It was still on when you heard the door open and your husband entered. He threw a look at the screen and - much unlike usually - he put his bag on the table and sat down next to you.

“Might I inquire what is bothering you?”

“How did you…?” you sighed and couldn’t help a smile “Probably you already calculated how many percent of the time I watched this movie I was sad”

“In the previous three months you have watched this movie seven times while I was around. Five out of these times you have used it as distraction from something negative”

“My husband, the new Sherlock Holmes…” you even chuckle “Bet you regret telling me that you’re related to the Sir Arthur Conan Doyle”

“Regret is illogical” he said getting up. You wanted to ask what he had but he now put his bag away and shortly after returned with a small plate of your favorite chocolates.

“Oh” you just said as you took the first one with a smile before focusing on the movie again. Somehow you were a little surprised that Spock remained seated next to you to be with you but it was no surprise that he was working something on his PADD in passing. When the end credits were rolling, he put the device away, threw a glance to your remaining two chocolates and then faced you.

“Do you wish to talk?” you gave a shrug

“It’s not that something happened. Just some negative, emotional thoughts after a not so great day again. Some colleagues at work have been assholes. So, when I couldn’t really focus on reading anymore I watched the movie and it was the first that came to my mind”

“Is there something I can do to help you or do you prefer to not think about the matter further so the thoughts you have mentioned will not return?”

“Err, I don’t really know. It’s not like you could actually do something to help. Besides listening and not making mean or futile comments of course. Maybe just talking would help to get it off my chest. I don’t know” you gave another shrug, helping yourself to another chocolate. “You know, it probably just were trifles if a good movie and some chocolate can make me forget it. If I’m honest I don’t even remember what it was all about” Spock raised an eyebrow and leant closer, pecking your brow.

“Then I suppose it is imperative that I keep you distracted so such thoughts will not occur again”

“Hm yeah” you just agreed, wanting to lean against him but once again he had gotten up, almost making you lose balance.

“Very well then. I thought we could cook together before you find another movie that you find more interesting to watch than spending the evening with me”

“Oh ha ha” you muttered throwing a glance at him as he left for the kitchen and you threw the last piece of chocolate after him. Although you missed he still turned around and gave you the Vulcan version of an ‘are-you-serious?’-look before picking the food up and carrying it to the kitchen. You got up and saw how he wanted to trash it “No that’s mine!” you exclaimed, hurrying over to snatch it out of his hand and putting it in your mouth.

“When you have thrown it I suggested you did not want to eat it anymore”

“Never said that. Just wanted to throw it at you for your comment”

“It appears you did not achieve this since you missed” now it was your time to raise eyebrows

“How about I throw something else at you? How about a loaf of bread? Will be harder to miss you with this” you were walking to the counter to get the bread from the box when you felt his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you back.

“I would rather me made up” you let out a giggle

“And I’d rather we made out”

“One thing does not rule out the other. However,” he pecked your cheek “I suppose the most logical course of action is that we both apologize, prepare the evening meal together and then engage in what you have suggested”

“Hm” you said, pretending to ponder over it as if it was a hard choice “I didn’t actually hit you. Do I really have to say I’m sorry? Technically nothing happened” you said in a teasing tone.

“There are other apologies than words” he hadn’t even completely finished the last word when you whipped around, grabbed the back of his head and smashed your lips to his, getting more demanding when he started to kiss back. “Apology accepted” he said quietly before kissing you again, this time gentler “Am I right to assume you consider this an apology too?”

“Good question… it was kinda short and surprising, you know?” you said, tapping your chin “Kiss me again and let me decide then…”

#spock #spock x reader #spock x you #spock imagine

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nkhrchuwuya · 2 years

Text

the start of fairy-tales

bungou stray dogs | G | 930 words nakahara chuuya x reader / oc

chuuya catches someone who ought not to be in the middle of a port mafia party. he whisks you away, not knowing he’s writing himself right into your book.

when you’d first received—well, really, swapped a project for—a ticket to a masquerade in the city, it was because you were expecting something magical to happen. the kind that happens in storybooks, in fairy-tales. but here you are instead, slightly tipsy, your friend having stood you up, alone in a room full of people you don’t know.

why don’t they turn out like in stories?

“mind if i join you out here?” you ask gently, directing the question to the only other person in the balcony—a redheaded gentleman thumbing at his mask, looking out at the view below. you’re careful not to surprise him out of what seems like a deep reverie.

“do whatever you want,” he answers gruffly; but then when he spots you, he clears his throat. “sorry, yeah. s’fine.”

“thanks.” with his permission, you lean against the railing a few feet away, looking up at the blue sky. the music from inside the hotel’s grand ballroom is carried through the air. man, you’d even worn your only extravagant looking dress, too. looks like the only thing you’re warming with your body tonight is the champagne flute in your hands.

the other man turns to look at you curiously. from your peripheral vision, you try to catch what he looks like—a typical suit get-up, coat hanging loosely on his shoulders instead of being properly worn. and he has a hat, too.

if this was a tv drama you could probably get away with saying, be my prince charming for the night?, but you aren’t in one, so you keep your lips sealed.

he doesn’t. “so what do you do?”

you blink. “um… i’m an editor,” you answer truthfully.

“not what i meant,” he says. “like, what do you do. why are you here?”

the question is no clearer than the last one he asked. you shuffle your brain for an answer through the fog of alcohol and manage to muster “i got a ticket from my friend who stood me up.”

he narrows his eyes. “so no business here, huh. brave girl.”

“is there… is there something to be brave about here?” you ask. something in your chest flutters. the start of every story has a cinch—has something that keeps the main character on their toes. something that pushes the story forward. “it’s just a masquerade, isn’t it?”

the man laughs. something about it sends warmth in your belly—he laughs so wholeheartedly. “ya really don’t know where ya are right now, do ya?”

“is there something i have to know?”

he pauses for a moment, like gauging you. for what, you’re not sure. after what seems like an eternity, he finally answers.

“surely you know ‘bout the port mafia.”

that takes you aback. of course you do. yokohama’s underground secret—the one everyone knows is somewhere, but not exactly where. you swallow.

“hah-ha,” you laugh awkwardly. “no way i attended a port mafia party, right?”

“and yet here you are,” the redhead smirks.

fear is injected straight into your veins. the port mafia holds masquerades?! is the first thing that comes to mind, but then, i’m in the middle of a port mafia fucking masquerade?! crashes equally as fast. you cast a glance at the man in front of you, his fiery red hair, gray eyes under the moonlight, the way he’s leaning backward so casually like he wasn’t part of such a dangerous organization.

(something about that is delicious, but god forbid, you’ve been told off multiple times about your attraction to danger.)

you imagine the worst for flashes of a second, until the man clears his throat and you ground yourself again. he nods his head toward the direction of the ballroom—and its exit—and asks:

“wanna get out?”

you narrow your eyes. “how do i know you won’t do anything to me?”

he shrugs. “contrary to popular belief, not all of us are assholes.” only then do you realize that he’s made sure to step backward from you, giving you space—giving you the option to get closer. “besides, i’m gettin’ kinda tired of this party, too.” he lifts one arm in invitation. “s’easier to get out in pairs.”

“cross the line and i’ll break your nose,” you warn him, but link arms with him anyway.

turns out he’s right—it is easier to get out in pairs. the guard at the door gives your exit strategy a questioning look, one he dismisses with “tell boss i’m going home,” together with a flicker of a look towards you. the stubborn guard opens the door immediately, and in five minutes you’ve been whisked down an elevator and onto the hotel’s front lobby.

he undoes your arm around his and tucks his hands in his pockets. “see? safe with me.”

you cross your hands over your chest. “thanks. i’ll keep you in mind the next time i’m frozen in fear over your organization.”

“and i’ll remember you the next time i see a lost little lamb in a party full of wolves.”

the two of you grin at each other, something clicking into place. before you know it, you’re offering him your name. “easier to remember with a name, right?”

“sure is,” he says, extending a hand. you take his hand in yours and give it a firm shake.

(you’re a writer. you know this. you know what it’s like, the introduction of the story’s next major character, the one that would change the plot forever.)

“nakahara,” he introduces himself with that lopsided smirk. “nakahara chuuya.”

#nakahara chuuya #bungou stray dogs #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #bungou stray dogs imagines #bsd imagines #bsd x reader #💌 chuuya lovemail #genre:lore #genre:fluff #rating:G #i'm going to make lore sundays a thing now!!!!#so i can build backstory over their relationship too <333 #Lore Sundays #timeline:pre

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laurenairay · 2 years

Text

Day 9 – Erik Johnson

Trope: Snowed in

Word Count: 930 words

A/N: EJ is the toothless love of my life, and that’s all the prompting I needed to include him, in peak EJ fashion.

Three days of quiet and bliss and seclusion. With the way the first few months of the season had gone, you hadn’t needed to beg Erik for the long weekend away – he had agreed almost immediately after you suggested the two of you should take some time away together. It wasn’t that the season so far was going terribly – not at all – but after a string of bad games and long roadtrips, the few days break that Erik had in his schedule gave the two of you the perfect time to spend some solid time together. And what better way that a private cottage in the mountains?

True, the cottage really wasn’t that high up, but there was enough of a winding road and privacy that you had to buy all your supplies before you headed up there as there was no point in coming back down again each day. So after a couple hours drive out of the city and to your secluded location, Erik having told his team (and then reminded Gabe on the morning) that he was not going to answer his phone for anything other than an absolute emergency, the two of you had headed up to the cottage yesterday morning.

That first day was everything you could have asked for. An easy drive, a gorgeous interior to the cottage that was even better than the photos depicted, hours spent in bed to reconnect like you hadn’t properly in weeks, before an evening sharing a bottle of wine in the outdoor hot tub. The two of you had fallen back into bed again, falling asleep in each other’s arms, happy and sated.

What you had woken up to was a surprise.

“Uh, babe?”

You hummed at the sound of Erik’s voice, slowly blinking awake to the realisation that he sounded concerned.

“What is it?” you murmured, frowning up at him.

“It snowed overnight. Like, really heavily,” Erik said hesitantly.

Overnight heavy snow. In the middle of nowhere. Oh god.

“Are we…are we snowed in?” you winced.

“I think we might be. I haven’t checked, but it’s basically a white-out outside,”

“Fuck. Fuck, what do we do?” you groaned.

This was not how you expected to spend your days off. The two of you had planned a hike for today, if nothing else!

“How about you get dressed into something super comfy and warm, and I’ll check the situation outside. Then I’ll call the booking agency and ask them what their procedure is. It’ll all be fine,” Erik said firmly.

You bit your bottom lip but nodded. Erik may be a joker and a prankster at the best of times, but in a serious situation he always kept a cool head – and you knew that right now would be no differently.

“Okay, sounds like a plan,” you nodded.

“There’s my girl,” Erik murmured, smiling.

You smiled back up at him, still smiling softly as he kissed you softly, sweetly, sending a thrill through your body. All too soon he was pulling away, throwing a hoodie over his bare chest as he picked up his phone to make the calls, but you could see he was just as affected by the simple kiss as you were. Good to know.

Soon enough you were dressed and heading downstairs, and as you neared the bottom of the stairs you could hear Erik murmuring into his phone, mug of coffee in hand. He winked at you and inclined his head to the half-full coffee pot, to which you pressed a kiss to his cheek as you walked past. And as soon as you had finished pouring yourself a mug of the caffeine lifeblood, Erik ended the call.

“So do you want the good news or the bad news first?” he asked.

You sighed. Of course there was bad news. “Bad news, might as well get it over and done with,”

Erik laughed, rolling his eyes fondly.

“Bad news – we are snowed in. The roads are blocked and it’s still snowing heavily,” Erik said simply, not mincing his words.

Well fuck.

“And the good news?” you winced.

“The good news is that the booking agency already have a snow plough on the way. They have a couple of other cottages higher up so they sent the plough up there first, but it will get to us. We also have a back-up generator here if things get terrible and we do have more than enough food for a few more days,” Erik explained.

Well…that was something at least.

“It could be worse?” you offered.

Erik just grinned. “It could be so much worse. I can’t think of a better way to spend a few days, snowed in with you,”

What a charmer.

“You flatterer. Have you let Gabe know? He’s probably worried,” you pointed out.

Erik huffed a laugh, nodding his agreement. “Yeah I probably should. I’ll grab the duvet and the extra blankets too, so we can camp out down here on the sofas?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you nodded.

Erik smiled widely, displaying that beautiful toothless grin of his, the one that always made you weak at the knees. Snowed in or not, you knew what was on your mind.

“Oh I know that look,” Erik mused, smile turning to a smirk.

You just smiled innocently, shrugging. “Just thinking of all the ways we can…occupy ourselves while we’re snowed in. I’m pretty sure we’ll think of something,”

Erik’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, making you grin. Oh yes, maybe getting snowed in wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#my writing #31 days of december blurbs #erik johnson #erik johnson blurb #erik johnson fic #erik johnson imagine #hockey imagine

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liz-allyn · 3 years

Text

shudder; part 2/6 [agent mobius x gn!reader]

Mobius heads back to his apartment to find you in the midst of a nightmare.

Part 1

Summary: Pre-Loki series. You are one of the most dangerous variants the TVA has ever recovered, but Mobius knows what makes you tick. Five times he made you shudder, and the one time you returned the favor.

Words: 930

Tags/warnings: Referenced canon-typical violence. Brief reference to past child abuse, strong language. Hurt/comfort; soft!mobius; protective!mobius; power dynamic; reader has a morally questionable background

II.

The next time he noticed the shudder, it was right after you took a swing at him. He barely dodged your feral punch as he reached out to grasp your arms.

“Easy, easy!” you could hear his voice say, but you couldn’t tell where you were. “Hey, easy! I gotcha. You’re okay.”

You quit thrashing, but your body trembled and you were gasping for air.

It was the damn drowning nightmare again, a relic from a repressed memory of your mother trying to drown you in a bathtub when you were little.

You blinked and observed your surroundings, realizing you weren’t lost at sea. You were at TVA headquarters, in Mobius’ modest studio apartment. You were afloat in the darkness sitting up on his standard-issue mattress. You nearly tore the sheets apart during the nightmare.

As he tended to you, he at the edge of his bed, still wearing his work tie. It was late - or early? - but he was just returning to his apartment from an all-nighter of paperwork when he found you screaming in his - or what used to be his - bed.

It was a contentious agreement - you taking his bed while he slept uncomfortably in the sitting area on a small leather couch. But he had vouched for you as a TVA asset, therefore you were his responsibility. Ravonna pointed that out when he’d petitioned on your behalf for proper sleeping quarters.

For weeks prior, you had demonstrated trustworthiness under his leadership, but some Minutemen still held a grudge with what you did to their partners. After you had been jumped and beaten while in your “temporary” holding cell, Mobius had had enough. (You we’re outnumbered, for the record, and you only lost because you didn’t fight back. Whatever. Not your first rodeo. B-15 pressed you for names, but you stubbornly stayed silent. You were many things, but you weren’t a snitch.)

But in this moment in the dark of his apartment, you were weak, crumbling in the older man’s arms. You hated it. Wet streaks of tears rolled down your cheeks. Beads of sweat dripped down your skin, binding your cotton tank to your back. Pathetic.

“It’s okay,” Mobius repeated placatingly. His large hands were fixed to your shoulders, holding you up above the dark water of your fears. Those warm brown eyes held steady on you. You found yourself searching for them in the dark.

“You’re safe,” he whispered. “I gotcha. It’s okay.”

You tried to slow your heart rate as more tears threatened to gush from your eyes. He was staring again, you noted, intently studying your features. He watched you with the familiar look of sincerity and wonder he gave you each time you saved the day and stopped the bad guy. It wasn’t a look you were used to. It made you feel… special, even if you were supposedly a mistake.

But there was something else in his eyes. Gentle. Mourning. Pity.

He knew.

You clenched your jaw and tore away your gaze. How did he find out? Were you talking in your sleep? Not only were you crying like a bitch but you were babbling all of your traumatic baggage for the world to hear. Fuck. Now he knew. Now they could use it to their advantage. Just one more page out of your horror story that they could use to manipulate you.

Your heart was racing again, but this time you were enraged.

Fuck this fucking time-tax collector and his smug smile.

He loved reading you, didn’t he? Like a book.

He was invading you with that look. The way he gaped at you, like the words were printed on your skin. Now you were sitting there in front of him - open wide, falling apart at the spine.

“You’re shaking,” he whispered.

Why was he whispering? It’s not like they were in a play? Did he think this was some kind of movie?

Your breath hitched as the realization hit you.

The film. Your life saga and all your sins preserved in celluloid. He showed you brief glimpses of it in the beginning of your relationship, shortly after he talked you down from certain deletion after you had managed to wrap your chains around his neck in an intense standoff with six angry Minutemen.

He was calm. Compassionate. He treated you like a human, even as you were learning that you were a pawn. That every scar, every pang, every bruise, every atrocity that had been done to you and by you were all part of The Plan™. And the one time you detoured away from your dark path, you in fact, had made a mistake.

He showed you the highlights of the film, but you got the picture. However, at the time you didn’t quite understand that he’d seen it all. Every graphic detail. This unassuming, mild-mannered, steely-eyed man knew you more than anyone ever had. Maybe even more than you knew yourself.

Here he was now, eyes fixed on you, patiently waiting. Nothing other than your cooperation in hunting variants had been asked for or expected. And if he was going to force you to comply by waterboarding you, or trapping you in a time theater where you could relieve your greatest (horror) hits, why hadn’t he done that already?

He gently spoke, releasing you, “Can I get you anything—?”

“I’m fine,” you bit off, steeling your soul.

He paused and considered you. Watched you. His gaze softened with a gentle nod. “Okay.” He stood from the bed without another word and left you alone.

Where you wanted to be.

Part 3

A/N: Like this story? Reblog!

#agent mobius x reader #agent mobius #mobius x reader #mobius #mobius m mobius x reader #mobius m mobius #mobius imagines #loki tv show #mobius fanfiction #loki 2021 #mobius m. mobius #mobius imagine #owen wilson #Lizzy writes.#mcu

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suitofvibraniumarmor · 3 years

Text

Diamonds & Granola Bars

Summary: After Sam has his wisdom teeth taken out, Y/N is there to enjoy the humor of his post-surgery high. Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader Word Count: 930 Warnings: None? Square Filled: Laughing at each other for @marvelfluffbingo Request Filled: @princessmisery666 sent me a fantastic scene (I've bolded some of the dialogue from it) a ways back and I finally sat down to write it. I hope you enjoy, lovely!

The smell of the oral surgeon’s office was exactly what you expected it would be, some weird mix of fluoride and nitrous oxide and whatever other dental-related things were in the little exam rooms. You wrinkled your nose at the smell, then checked your watch. Sam had been in the back long enough, it seemed. They should be calling you back at any time.

Should have brought a book or something, you thought to yourself.

Instead, you made funny little noises with your mouth -- until you caught the receptionist eyeing you with a raised brow. Your cheeks heated and you winced, mouthing sorry in her direction. She didn’t acknowledge you further, only went back to her tasks. You sighed and checked your watch again.

Finally, a few minutes later, the door to the back of the office opened. “Ms. Y/L/N, Mr. Wilson is in recovery. You can come back, if you’d like.”

You quickly gathered your things and followed her down the chilly hallway. About midway, she motioned to her left. “You can have a seat right in there and I’ll be in, in just a moment.”

Sam was in a reclined chair in the room, his cheeks puffy from swelling and the cotton gauze wedged in there. You pursed your lips to keep from laughing -- not to be rude, but he had a pretty cute little chipmunk vibe going at the moment. You reached out to squeeze his hand; Sam’s sleepy eyes met your gaze.

“Hey, you,” you greeted softly. “How ya feelin’?”

He mumbled out something you couldn’t understand, followed by a lazy shrug. His eyes closed again. The nurse came back in and started typing things into the computer. She asked Sam, loudly, how he was feeling, which brought his eyes open again.

Sam frowned and looked around the room, his eyes settling on you. “Feel fine. Look at her though.”

The nurse exchanged a curious look with you. “Why should I look at her? She didn’t just have teeth removed from her mouth.”

You couldn’t help but giggle when Sam looked at you again. He shook his head -- well, as much as he could manage in his groggy, swollen-faced state.

“She’s hot. Like, damn! I don’t think I’ve ever told her that, but damn! This woman is gorgeous, y’know?” He leaned his head back and closed his eyes again. “Nurse.”

The nurse turned from the computer, looking a little worried. “Sam? You okay?”

He gave a small nod. “Mm. Should I tell her I love her? I love her so fucking much. But should I tell her?”

The nurse giggled this time. “I think you just did, and I don’t think it’s the first time.”

Sam opened his eyes again, frowned, and slowly turned your way. “ ‘S not?”

You shook your head and held up your left hand, displaying the pretty ring set on your ring finger. “Nope, it’s not. We’re married, pal.”

“Say what?!” Sam replied in a high-pitched, shocked voice.

You nodded. “A few years now, actually.”

“Well, shit. I hit the jackpot! Quick, pass me my phone, I need to call Bucky and tell him I bagged a diamond!”

“He was the best man.”

“Best man my ass.” Sam closed his eyes and leaned back in the chair another time. “Did I ever tell you about the time he stole my granola bars?”

The nurse looked at you and whispered, “Granola bars?”

“It was a drunken misunderstanding. They were community granola bars.” You took Sam’s phone out of your bag. “Still want to call Bucky and remind him we’re married?”

But Sam was snoring softly in the chair. You and the nurse shared a chuckle, then she went over the aftercare instructions with you. A male nurse helped the two of you get Sam in the car. When he was all settled, they wished you luck and sent you on your way.

“Need granola bars … and kisses …” Sam mumbled as you navigated into traffic.

You smiled. “I’ll take care of one of those … and as soon as you’re up for eating granola bars again, handsome, I’ll call Bucky to bring ‘em right on over.”

Sam showed the hint of a smile, then reached over and clumsily grabbed for your hand. He mumbled about hot wives and something about taking you to bed as soon as the two of you got home.

You smiled and squeezed his hand, making sure you had a good hold on the wheel with the other hand. “You’re gonna be ready for bed, handsome, but not with me.”

Sam took a breath and went back to talking about hot wives and making babies and granola bars for energy in between. You laughed almost the whole way home, wishing you had recorded at least some of this.

By the time you reached the house and got Sam up to the bedroom, the pain was hitting him. You helped him with some medicine, got his shoes and pants off, then tucked him into bed. After kissing his forehead, you told him you would check on him in a little while, but to just try and get some rest. He grabbed your hand again.

“Stay. Sleep with me. Just snoozes.”

“Snoozes,” you repeated softly. “Okay, I’ll stay for snoozes.”

You toed off your own shoes, then settled onto the bed next to Sam, your head on his chest. He was in an awkward, upright position, but was already dozing off.

Before too long, you dozed off too, dreaming of Sam and babies and, of all damn things, granola bars.

AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @hurricanerin @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @shynara51 @sea040561 @pinknerdpanda @xtina2191 @beakami @heartsaved @fullprunerebelstatesman @blackwidowismyhomegirl @averyrogers83 @jennmurawski13 @connie326 @whitewolfvibraniumdreams

#marvelfluffbingo2021 #sam wilson #sam wilson x reader #sam x reader #fanfiction #reader request #princessmisery666 #a queue of armor around the world

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