#Grilles And Diffusers

[decentairsystempvtltd]

Premium HVAC Grilles and Diffusers for Optimal Airflow and Aesthetic Appeal

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[vicairr]

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Introduction:

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Contact Us For More Information

Phone Number : (03) 9529 1233

Email : info@silkroadrugs.com.au

Address : 38-40 Licola Crescent, Dandenong South, VIC 3175

[lufykun]

What aspects need to be taken into account when choosing suppliers and manufacturers for diffusers, kitchen ventilation systems, aluminum cladding, AC ductwork installation, and ducts?

The right duct manufacturers and suppliers for ducts, aluminum cladding, AC ductwork installation, kitchen ventilation systems, and diffusers are highly essential in ensuring efficiency and safety, as well as a long life for any project.

For ducts and AC ductwork installation focus on suppliers that supply high-quality materials meeting or exceeding the industry standards regarding thermal insulation, airflow efficiency, and durability. This should include certifications ensuring duct materials are resistant to both pressure variations and extreme temperatures. Then, check if the supplier can install the product according to expertly established requirements minimizing the potential for air leakages or energy inefficiency.

While procuring aluminum cladding, one needs to consider the aesthetic value, weather resistance, and fire safety of the material. Suppliers should provide an ample variety of designs and finishes so that customization according to architectural requirements can be easily made. Aluminum cladding should also meet energy efficiency standards so that better insulation can be achieved for buildings.

For kitchen ventilation systems, select suppliers who provide systems to ensure proper air circulation and odor control and compliance with health and safety regulations. The equipment should be built to handle high heat and grease environments while requiring a minimum amount of maintenance.

Lastly, diffuser suppliers should offer a variety of models tailored for different HVAC needs, ensuring uniform air distribution and noise reduction. Look for suppliers who provide technical support, warranties, and reliable delivery schedules. Selecting experienced manufacturers and suppliers enhances project quality and ensures long-term performance.

[indiantradebird11]

Top Grills and Diffusers | Blue Ace India

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[rosegolden13]

Hiii your hc of the TF141 is so so so cute hahahaha can you imagine how TF141 handles the reader's father when they are being introduced?

HIII!! Tysm for the ask!! 💗💗💗 I love this idea! i bet someone out there has done this better than me but here’s my take on it!

Simon is nervous. Can you blame him? The whole concept of a decent father is new to him. He won’t tell you he’s nervous but it’s obvious in how stiff he is on the way to your parent’s house. Your father is likely a bit unnerved by the thought of his daughter dating this beast of a man who wears a mask almost all the time. You and your father will probably have to do most of the talking at first. But once he warms up a bit, he’ll probably crack one or two of his classic dad jokes and that’ll be the start of their bonding lmao. Painful for you likely. Practice your fake laugh now.

Gaz is a charmer, always good with people, so you don’t need to worry for a second. Parents love him, always have. Even in elementary school, all the pta moms were pinching his cheeks. He will bring flowers because he’s a gentleman like that. Your mom think he’s a doll and your dad, though he gives him a hard time about being in the military and not being there for you enough, does come around. Tbh, you might get jealous because your parents seem to love him more than they love you… “Maybe you can get our girl to the gym more, eh?” “Oh, absolutely, sir. I’ll get her on my training schedule.” And then you jab him with your elbow.

Soap is also a bit nervous but he gets chatty when nervous so you won’t ever need to fill an awkward silence. Just hope he doesn’t bring up that particularly bloody work story- oop, nevermind, there he goes. Your dad absolutely makes a passive aggressive comment about his mohawk (“what are you? In an 80’s rock band?”) that you’ll have to diffuse somehow. Later, in the car, Johnny’ll ask you, “you like ma hair, right, pet?” Clearly, he wants to leave a good impression. And he does eventually! It might take a few visits but he’s a family oriented guy and your dad comes around. He’s great with aunts, cousins, uncles, siblings, your mom, but he’ll always be a bit tense around your dad.

Price… Your dad is instantly not a fan of simply because of the age gap. It feels like an interrogation with how tense that first meeting is. Your dad asks about a million questions, about his job, his age, his intentions. But Price has handled much worse and he maintains his composure the whole time, not at all shaken. Honestly, he understands why your father doesn’t trust him so he can handle a little awkward grilling. His hand rests on your knee the whole time because he can feel your nerves, a silent reminder that he won’t leave you even if this goes poorly. Once they start talking about football… you’re in the clear. He slowly but surely gains your dad’s trust, especially because they root for the same team (and that’s somehow a show of character?? Men are bizarre).

Hope you liked this!! 🫶

[zeroseuniverse]

Customer Service

Word Count: 721 Summary: "Flirting on the job? Really?" Pairing: Diner workers Riki X Fem Reader

Navigation

The diner buzzed with chaos on a typical Friday night. The sound of sizzling grills, clinking dishes, and the hum of conversation filled the air. She  weaved expertly between tables, balancing a tray of burgers and fries while delivering her signature snark to a table of frat boys who were trying—unsuccessfully—to flirt with her.

"Hey, sweetheart," one of them said with a smirk, "how about you serve me a smile with that burger?"

Without missing a beat, she plunked the plate down in front of him. "Sure thing, here’s a smile," she said, flashing him a sarcastic grin. "It’s $5.99 extra. Want me to put it on your tab?"

The table erupted in laughter, though the frat boy looked like he wanted to crawl under the table. She  turned and caught Riki watching her from behind the counter, trying to stifle a laugh. He leaned casually against the milkshake machine, his messy hair flopping into his eyes, and his grin as bright as the diner’s neon sign.

"Need help out there, babe?" he called, flipping a towel over his shoulder.

She shot him a mock glare. "What I need is for you to stop standing there looking pretty and start bussing tables before I strangle you with that towel."

"Yikes, you sound scary," Riki teased, grabbing a tray of empty dishes from the counter. He breezed past her, planting a quick kiss on her cheek as he went.

"Flirting on the job? Really?" she said, but there was no hiding the smile tugging at her lips.

It wasn’t easy working together. The diner was a pressure cooker of rude customers, understaffed shifts, and an ever-demanding manager. But somehow, she and Riki made it work—or at least, they tried.

Riki had endless energy, bouncing from one task to the next with an enthusiasm that could’ve been annoying if it weren’t so endearing. He charmed customers effortlessly, especially the older regulars, who loved his boyish grin and sunny demeanor.

On the other hand, she was the glue holding everything together. She had a knack for diffusing tense situations and keeping the kitchen staff from losing their minds. But she was also quick to call people out when they stepped out of line—whether it was a customer snapping their fingers at her or the manager cutting her break short.

The two of them had their rhythm: She kept things efficient and under control, while Riki brought the lightheartedness that made even the worst shifts bearable.

One night, after a particularly grueling dinner rush, the two of them collapsed into a booth at the back of the diner. It was nearly midnight, and the place had finally quieted down.

Riki slumped against the seat, his apron streaked with ketchup and grease. "I swear, if I have to smile at one more customer tonight, my face is gonna fall off."

She snorted, sliding a plate of leftover pie toward him. "You mean your charm has limits? Shocking."

Riki grabbed a fork and took a bite of the pie, grinning. "I’ll have you know I’m charming 24/7. That’s why you’re dating me, isn’t it?"

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t help smiling. "Please, I’m dating you because I lost a bet."

"Ouch," Riki said, clutching his chest in mock pain. "That’s cold, Babe. Real cold."

They laughed together, the kind of laughter that came from knowing you were both in the same boat, rowing through the chaos side by side.

As the clock neared 1 a.m., they cleaned up the last of the tables and locked up the diner. Outside, the neon sign flickered, casting a pinkish glow on the empty parking lot.

Riki grabbed Y/N’s hand as they walked to her beat-up old car. "Hey," he said, his voice softer now, "thanks for putting up with me tonight. I know I probably drive you crazy sometimes."

She looked at him, her sarcastic edge softening. "You do drive me crazy," she admitted. "But you also make this place a little less miserable. So... thanks for that."

He grinned, leaning down to press a quick kiss to her forehead. "Anytime, babe."

As they climbed into the car and drove off into the night, the diner faded into the background, but their laughter echoed, carrying them forward into whatever chaos tomorrow’s shift would bring.

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

good morning! here's a short little second part to this for the @steddie-spooktober halfway to halloween pop-up!

rated: G | 935 words | full work on AO3

The morning of his second date with Steve starts out on just this side of cold, the sun shining down over dew and through the fog curling up from the earth.

A not all that unusual cold night in the still warming summer that is sure to bloom into a clear 70° later in the day.

Their first date (or was this their first? The last was a double technically) went over smooth as butter; Steve and Robin getting on like a house fire over late night pancakes the day of the fair.

Eddie’s feet were sore, there were still totes of merchandise stuffed into Robin and Chrissy’s backseat, but all four were laughing and joking for a good couple hours more in that booth.

Rob and Chris had driven with Eddie to Benny’s, but Steve was the one to take him home that night, pulling Eddie into a kiss in the driveway as the windows started to fog up around them.

Today, however, Eddie is picking Steve up from his place for their second (he’s decided, it’s their second.) date.

Stomach rolling with nerves, even this early in the day, Eddie gets up and starts getting ready.

He’s attempting what Chrissy calls an ‘everything shower’, he doesn’t have the whole shaving things thing to his to worry about like she includes in hers, but he showers as long as he can to scrub every inch of himself clean, breaks out a tub of body scrub Chrissy gave him that smells like grapefruit, does a full wash and dry of his hair to include the damn diffuser attachment on the damn hairdryer AND the curly hair goops Chrissy had helped him figure out originally. Damn, he loves that girl.

He even made sure to take his shirt for today out of the dryer right when it was done so it didn’t get any ridiculous wrinkles in it as he and Wayne’s iron has taken to melting even Wayne’s fire retardant ‘nice shirts’.

“Why do you need your date shirts to be the same material as your coveralls??”

“Sue me for not wantin’ my shirt to fuse to my skin if I have to save some orphans from a burning building mid-date.”

“....Is that a situation you think you’ll find yourself in?”

“Never hurts to be prepared.”

In any case, Eddie was showered, dressed, and as pretty’d up as he could manage on his own, and with 20 minutes to spare.

“You look great, Eddie!!” Chrissy squeals as soon as she picks up the video call, “He’s gonna want to ravish you right there in the park.”

“You sure? My curls aren’t too curl-y?”

“Is that a thing?” he hears Robin’s voice before he sees her, “Are curls not supposed to be curly?”

Chrissy pushes her away with a palm to the face, “They look perfect Eddie, you ran your fingers through them and everything?” He nods, “Then they’re perfect. Maybe just find a light breeze to ruffle them in and you’re golden.”

“And all the food we decided on is good?”

Chrissy nods, Robin’s voice filters back through, “As long as you have turkey on some of those sandwiches, you can’t fail.”

“And no, the chocolate strawberries are not ‘Too cheesy’, or ‘overdone’, they are a classic for a reason.”

“And Steve loves chocolate covered strawberries!” Robin calls again.

“He does?”

“Who doesn’t?”

“Okay, okay.. I can do this.. It’s already our second date. No worries, right?”

“I thought it was your firs–”

Chrissy cuts her off, “Right! It’ll be fun! Don’t forget the blanket, and remember: the middle tree of the three, the others had too many roots.”

“Right…” Eddie nods, thanking his lucky stars again that Chrissy was his friend; she’d insisted on scoping out the perfect spot at the park for his and Steve's picnic date days ahead of time. Somewhere not too close to anything of import, somewhere where the parking lot was emptier even on a perfect sunny day, somewhere up wind from the often-used park grills.

“It’ll be great Eddie, now hurry up or you’ll be late!!”

–

Everything goes smoothly, perfect even; he gets to Steve’s right on time, says hello to Dustin and Max, and Their Spot in the park is just as perfect as he and the girls expected it to be.

So everything was great. Except the one thing he forgot. Gum. Mints. Anything to get the onion smell off his breath.

And of course he doesn’t remember he forgot them until Steve leans up over him on the blanket.

“Wait, no.” Eddie says, turning his face away from Steve’s searching lips.

Steve’s face falls almost imperceptibly, “Everything okay?”

“Perfect, actually, except I forgot the mints.”

His brow scrunches in confusion, “Mints?” he cups his hand over his mouth and checks his breath, “Does my–”

“No! No, no, it’s mine,” Eddie explains quickly, “I have onion breath. I always do after I eat them, even just the little bit that was on the sandwiches.”

“Eddie,” Steve’s concern melts into what Eddie can only describe as exasperated fondness. “You had coffee breath the first time I kissed you. Onion breath is nothing.”

“Oh…?”

“Oh.” Steve nods, leaning down to kiss him into the soft grass beneath their blanket, “And I’m sure your morning breath won’t be a problem either.”

“You’re getting my morning breath now?” Eddie laughs around Steve’s lips, “Presumptuous, Stevie dear.”

Steve snorts, then sighs, laying back down on the blanket. “And to think, I almost didn’t even drive those two to the fair.” he pauses, “I think it was worth it though.”

“Oh yeah?”

Steve turns his head to smile crookedly at him, “I met you, didn’t I?”

and then they live happily ever after the end 🥰

[pascalissmoked]

Hello, I am wondering if u take request for a Tony Stark x female reader, who is also best friend of Tony Stark before he came Iron Man but she has been by his side through everything as well. But it’s a fluff one shot as at the end where they both reveal their feelings for each other which they had from the moment they met and they have their first kiss between them as well.

Ofcoursee, here it is! Hope you like it :)

Virtual Insanity

Summary: In which the infamous line "make love not war" isn't well-respected by this pair of friends. When cyberbullying at Stark industries level develops into a game between these two collegues and friends, something more begins to unravel between the two.

Word Count: 1.7K Warnings: none except Tony's unsufferable ego (all jokes)

A/N: This is a short oneshot. Might turn into more. I'm also still working on the "Soft in the right hands" series for bucky so stay tuned!

You’d known Tony Stark long enough to remember when he didn’t wear the suit — physically or emotionally.

Back then, he was all sharp smiles and sharper intellect, more interested in building arc reactors with cocktail napkin schematics than charming investors. Reckless with nearly everything except the way he treated you. Somehow, against all odds, you’d slipped past the velvet rope that guarded the real him — the sleepless inventor who showed up on your fire escape at 3AM with a bottle of Scotch and a theory about thermal diffusion that couldn’t wait till morning.

You were best friends before Afghanistan. Before Iron Man. Before Stark Tower had its own AI department and a floor reserved just for “Tony’s regrets, part I through XXV.”

And none of that stopped him from hacking your firewall during lunch.

You were approximately three minutes into a well-deserved lunch break — grilled cheese in hand, Spotify playlist on shuffle, and the sanctity of a lab entirely free of explosions — when your firewall went up in flames.

Digitally speaking.

The code on your main monitor began to twitch. Literally twitch. Then twist. And then it smiled at you. A little pixelated smiley face blinked up from the line of code you’d just written, followed by a dancing ASCII cat wearing sunglasses.

“Oh my God,” you muttered, setting your sandwich down like it had betrayed you.

You knew that coding style.

You knew exactly who was responsible.

With the patience of a saint and the energy of someone who was one click away from snapping, you launched into the system’s backend, pulling apart the layers of the digital graffiti with expert ease, unraveling each line of smug Stark-ware. And sure enough, right at the root folder, embedded in a hidden command string, was a line of text:

"Nice firewall, sweetheart. 7/10. Would hack again. - T.S."

Your eye twitched. Your soul twitched.

He didn’t just breach your system. He decorated it. That wasn’t a hack — it was a housewarming party in enemy territory.

The man had billions of dollars, a global tech empire, multiple Iron Man suits, and — apparently — nothing better to do than hack into your secure files during his downtime like a caffeinated raccoon with a superiority complex.

You were going to kill him. Slowly. Or worse — give him a lecture so long and boring it could be classified as psychological warfare.

And thus, the war began.

With your jaw clenched and your heart pounding in that very specific, very annoying way it only ever did around Tony, you stormed out of your lab and stomped down the hallway of Stark Tower.

You bypassed three interns and a mildly offended elevator AI before slamming open his door like righteous judgment. Finally, you flung open the doors to his R&D suite without knocking.

Tony didn’t flinch.

Sleeves rolled up, arc reactor glowing, fingers dancing across a holographic interface. He looked up. Grinned.

“Hey, sunshine,” Tony said lazily from behind a table cluttered with open panels, a half-dismantled drone, and at least three coffee cups. “I was just thinking about you."

“You’re a menace.”

“I’ve been called worse.” He finally looked up, dark eyes glinting with amusement. “But usually by people who didn’t bother updating their encryption protocols.”

You crossed your arms. “You hacked into my system during lunch, Stark. That’s below the belt. I was eating grilled cheese.”

“Maybe next time add some brie and fig jam. Class it up a little.” He grinned. “You’re welcome, by the way. I just gave you a free security audit.”

You stared at him, deadpan. “Did your ego eat your moral compass for breakfast?”

He stood, sauntering over like confidence incarnate in a Henley and jeans, and leaned against the edge of the workbench — arms crossed, smirk fully loaded.

“I’d argue my ego is my moral compass. And it always points due north to: mess with you.”

“You hacked my system,” you repeated.

He tilted his head. “If I can break in, so can Hydra. I’m doing you a favor.”

You crossed your arms. “This is the third time this month you've done something like this. Last week, you turned my digital assistant into a sassy version of yourself. I had to argue with my microwave for twenty minutes before it would heat my soup.”

He beamed. “He’s got a personality now! Named him Toasty.”

“I’m going to rewrite your DNA.”

“Only if we cuddle after.”

You were going to scream. Or kiss him. It was a very fine line these days.

“I’m going to kill you,” you said conversationally.

He grinned wider. “You’re going to miss me.”

So instead, you narrowed your eyes and said, “I hope you like Shakespeare just as much as JARVIS does.”

He blinked. “What?”

You pulled your phone from your pocket, already typing."Your little AI pet seems to have brushed up on his Shakespeare, because he’s about to speak exclusively in iambic pentameter for the next twenty-four hours."

“Wait. No—”

“And make all puns food-themed.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. “You’re a monster.”

You shrugged, already walking toward the door. “Some people bake sourdough for fun. I emotionally sabotage billionaire AIs.”

Tony groaned. “JARVIS

, don’t you dare—”

“Verily, sir,” JARVIS chimed in serenely from the overhead speaker, “I find thy attitude rather cheesy, like brie upon a croissant most greasy.”

Tony’s head hit the desk.

You smirked. “Toasty says hi.”

It went on like that for weeks.

Tony retaliated by installing a movement sensor in your lab. Every time you entered, SexyBack blared at full volume. FRIDAY wouldn’t let you disable it. She said it was “legally classified as a morale booster.”.

It was a war.

You replaced his AI’s voice with Gilbert Gottfried reading Twilight.

Tony responded by having your smartwatch shout hourly affirmations about his hair.

You hacked his suit’s startup sequence. Now it greeted him with:

“Iron Man: The Human Hot Pocket. Online.”

It didn’t stop there.

He replaced your screensaver with a live feed of himself winking, finger guns included.

You programmed his coffee maker to scream “INCOMING!” every time it dispensed espresso.

Naturally, collateral damage was inevitable.

Bruce’s tablet was cursed to play Baby Shark whenever opened. He developed a twitch.

Sam’s Falcon gear announced all takeoffs with: “I’m a little teapot, short and stout.”

Steve’s toaster quoted Pride and Prejudice in Cher’s voice.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged,” it belted one morning, “that a single man in possession of breakfast must be in want of jam.”

He punched a wall. You both got fined.

Even Clint, ever the stealthy one, wasn’t spared. Every time he drew an arrow, it whispered “pew pew” in Tony’s voice.

The tower teetered on the brink of chaos.

Pepper threatened to move to Dubai.

It was late.

The Tower was asleep, mostly. Except for Tony, who you found in the R&D lounge, hoodie on, arc reactor glowing soft under worn fabric. He looked… still. A rare moment for a man who moved like his thoughts could outrun time.

“You gonna yell at me for the coffee pot thing?” he asked, not looking up.

“I should,” you said, easing into the seat beside him. “FRIDAY tried to launch a counterstrike when I made a cappuccino.”

“She’s passionate.”

Silence fell. He just stared at you like he was debating something he’d rehearsed a hundred times in his head.

You blinked. “What?”

Tony opened his mouth. Closed it. Then, “Do you want me to stop?”

You frowned. “Stop what?”

“The pranks. The hacking. I mean, I know it’s probably childish and annoying and… I don’t know. Maybe I just like having a reason to see you all worked up, to just see you more.”

You sat back, heart thudding.

“That,” you said slowly, “is the least emotionally articulate confession I’ve ever heard.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. I build flying suits, not feelings.”

You stood and walked over, stopping inches from him. His breath hitched, and yours did too.

“For the record,” you said, “I love your flying suits. But I also kind of love… this.”

He blinked. “The chaos?”

“The banter. The sabotage. The way your face lights up when you think you’ve outsmarted me, even though I’m always two steps ahead.”

“Debatable,” he muttered.

You leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

“And I love the way you look at me like I’m the only firewall you’ve never wanted to break.”

He stilled.

Then: “I’ve been in love with you since the day you fried that Russian botnet and called it ‘a poorly coded insult to my intelligence.’”

You smiled.

And then, you kissed him.

It was messy and hot and gloriously overdue. His hands cupped your face like he’d been dying to do it for years, and your fingers curled into his shirt like gravity had given up and he was your anchor now.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, he whispered, “I should have hacked you sooner.”

You smacked his shoulder. “Shut up and kiss me again.”

He did.

And that night, neither of you changed each other’s passwords.

You called a truce.

Sort of.

Now your prank war has a rulebook and a scoreboard. Nat is the referee. Bruce runs support (begrudgingly). Steve is still in therapy.

JARVIS still speaks in sonnets during thunderstorms. Toasty hosts a podcast. FRIDAY hosts a revenge fund.

A year later, Tony proposed via custom hologram code embedded in your firewall — romantic, glitchy, and absolutely extra.

You said yes.

And now, sometimes, late at night, you’ll find yourselves coding side-by-side, teasing each other like always — except now, there’s no more pretending.

Just love. Loud, messy, sarcastic love. With bad lighting, too much coffee, and more happiness than either of you thought you’d ever deserve.

And every morning, when you walk into the lab, “SexyBack” still plays.

You don’t stop it anymore.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading. Don't hesitate to leave a comment behind <3

[woso-dreamzzz]

End of the World

Katie McCabe x Child!Reader

Summary: Your world ends

Your whole world ends on a rainy May day.

Ma comes home in a burst of wild energy. She dismisses your babysitter and immediately starts packing a bag for you.

"Ma?" You say softly," What's wrong?"

She looks sad and angry and so, so tearful. "Nothing," She says, holding your little hand in hers," We're...We're just going away for a bit."

You look behind her like you expect Mammy to appear. "With Mammy?"

Ma shakes her head. "No. Just me and you."

You're confused about that. You never go anywhere without both of them and it scares you. Still, Ma packs your bag and she's just put on your shoes when the front door is opened.

Mammy is soaked to the bone from the rain and she glares at Ma.

They've been arguing a lot lately when they think you're sleeping in bed. It's scary. They yell at each other like they yelled at you when you tried to touch the hot grill last summer at a barbeque.

They square up to each other and you glance between them.

No words are said until Ma holds your hand and tries to take you.

Mammy puts a firm hand on your shoulder so you can't follow. "No," She says firmly," She stays here."

Ma scoffs. "She's my kid too, Katie."

"This is her home."

"This was my home!"

They start arguing again and Mammy's hand stays firm on your shoulder.

"I'll be back," Ma says, crouching down to your height," I love you. I'll see you real soon."

You're crying. You don't understand what's going on. Ma and Mammy never argued like this. They never screamed at each other before.

But now Ma's leaving and Mammy keeps you firm against her so you can't run up to the front windows to see Ma drive away.

Mammy describes it to you as a breakup later that night as you lay on her chest after sobbing your heart out for hours. It's a bit like how your friend's parents got divorced but it's called a breakup because Ma and Mammy aren't married.

Mammy gets the house...and you.

Well, she mostly gets you. Every two weeks, you go to Ma's and hang out with her and her new teammates.

But, mainly, Mammy has you.

She said that she's going to make this transition easy for you but you don't know what that means. You don't understand what any of this means until Caitlin comes to your house.

You know of Caitlin from a distance. She plays with Mammy and her name is banned in Ma's new house but you've heard Ma and Auntie Shebahn discuss her when you were meant to be sleeping.

Mammy talks about her a lot now that it's just you and her. You don't know why and you definitely don't like it. Mammy used to talk about Ma like that.

Caitlin comes to your house one evening when you're meant to have already been tucked up in bed. You linger at the top of the stairs, peering around the wall to see Mammy greet Caitlin at the door.

They talk softly so you can't really hear but then your heart shatters when Mammy kisses her.

She's meant to only kiss Ma like that.

"We've got a shadow," Caitlin whispers against Katie's lips, nodding to where she can just about make out you peeking down the stairs.

Katie sighs, pulling away and smiling fondly in your direction. "Hey, you're meant to be in bed."

You don't say anything. You don't say a lot to her nowadays. You've retreated into yourself since she and Ruesha broke up. It's not at all surprising when you approach silently.

You don't get very close, not even to Katie. You just close the gap a little bit but don't fully come off the stairs.

You look very unnerved and Katie tries to diffuse the situation before you start crying again. You may not talk a lot but you definitely cry a lot more than before.

Katie kneels down in front of you, reaching out for your hand but you pull away. "You've met Caitlin before, haven't you? She's going to hang out a bit with me while you're sleeping. Do you want to say goodnight?"

You just turn on your heels and run up the stairs.

Katie sighs, rubbing at her temple. "Sorry," She says to Caitlin," About her. She's still adjusting."

"It's fine," Caitlin says," She's little. She probably doesn't understand what's going on. One day, you and Ruesha are still together and taking her to the park and the next...Her whole world ends. It'll be difficult."

"I..." Katie falls back onto the sofa and buries her head in her hands. "I don't know what to do. She's completely shut down. I just worry that she'll stay that way forever."

"She won't," Caitlin says," Maybe sit her down and talk? I don't know. I've never really interacted with kids this little."

Katie sighs and stands again. "I'm...I'm going to put her to bed. Feel free to raid my cupboards for food."

It's quick work, getting up the stairs and into your room. You're not in bed but rather the little tent Rue set up in the corner of your room. Katie's found you in that a lot recently.

You flick your little torch on and off a few times to acknowledge she's in your room but don't make any noise otherwise.

Katie crawls in with you. "Heya, kiddo," She says," You're meant to be sleeping right now. How about we get back into bed?" She offers you her hand.

You don't take it.

Katie drops her hand and sighs. "You know, this wasn't how I wanted you to meet Caitlin. We were gonna go to that little bakery you like, the one with the frosted cookies. You still like them?"

You give no answer.

"Sorry." She shakes her head. "I know this is difficult. I know that everything's gone wrong. I...I'm trying to make it better. How can I make it better? What do you need? Toys? Money? How about some takeout? We can order some now and you can stay up past bedtime and we can watch that super cool new Scooby Doo episode."

For a moment, Katie's worried you're not going to speak again.

"Want-Want Ma."

Your voice is tiny and quiet and breaks her heart. Her face falls.

"Sorry, kiddo. I can't get you Ma."

You burst into tears.

Katie draws you into her arms even as you beat at her with your tiny fists. "No! Want Ma! Want Ma!"

"I know, I know." She gets up and begins to pace, rocking you softly. Rue was always better at calming you down than her. She was the fun mum, the one that snuck you food and took you out to the park. Rue was the mum that soothed you and gave you little kisses on a plaster after you cut yourself.

"Want Ma! Not Caitlin! Ma! Ma! Ma!"

You're getting more and more desperate for Rue and Katie feels like she's going to burst into tears any moment now.

"Ma!" You wail, kicking and screaming until, eventually, you go limp.

It's the worst way for you to go sleep, crying so much that you've exhausted yourself.

Katie can do nothing but stare at your limp body. She wants to put you to bed and tuck you in nice and tight with your favourite teddy bear. She wants to be able to get up in the morning with Caitlin in her bed and you running in to demand breakfast. She wants you to stop being so damn sad all the time as you mourn the loss of hers and Rue's relationship in your own way.

But she can't have any of that.

Your body is completely exhausted and Katie ends up sitting with you cradled in her arms at the top of the stairs.

"Are you okay?" Caitlin asks, sitting a few steps beneath her," Is she okay?"

"No." Katie's voice cracks and she wipes away her tears. "Sorry, I know this isn't what you expected when you came round."

"It's fine," Caitlin says," She's your first priority."

"I-I feel like such a bad mother. I've ruined her entire life."

"Not her entire life," Caitlin corrects," Her whole world is different now. She's going to get better. Just give her time."

"She wants Rue," Katie says," She wants Rue so bad." Rue's contact is open and balanced on her knee. "I always get pictures of her being happy with Rue. She doesn't smile like that with me."

"Katie-"

"Give me a second. I'm...I'm going to call Rue." She slips back into your room, still cradling you close.

You fuss a little in your sleep and Katie holds her breath. You stay asleep though as the ringtone blares in your mother's ear.

"Ruesha? I...I know it's not your week but do you want to see her? She...She's been missing you. Yeah, I can pack her bag. I'll see you in thirty."

[vicairr]

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[lufykun]

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[tecnaluae]

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[veillover19]

Tightly wrapped in her burqa and with a grill-like net over her eyes she is almost entirely sealed off from the world...

(AI art made with Stable Diffusion)

[onceonafullmoon]

Flirtation

Fem! Reader x Isagi

No warnings! Slightly suggestive at the end, takes place well after blue lock, reader is kinda tsundere

“You think you’re cute?” You ask with a faux annoyed look. His grin broadens at your words. "I think you're cute."

“You should carry me.” You say with an overly flirtatious demeanor, fluttering your lashes at the blue haired boy beside you.

It’s said mostly as a joke, a way to fluster him, but you can’t deny the pain shooting through your feet as you navigate the sidewalk in your pretty, but not very efficient, heels.

Isagi doesn’t respond, and for a second you think you might have actually succeeded at flustering him until he suddenly lifts you up into his arms, making you let out an undignified squeak as your hands instinctively grip onto his shoulders.

For a moment, you’re left speechless as he proceeds to maneuver you into a bridal style carry.

You look at him with wide eyes when you eventually settle into place, a nervous laugh bubbling out of you.

“I– uh… you know I was only joking, right?”

“Your feet are blistering.” He responds simply, as if it was only natural to simply lift you in the air over it.

You scoff playfully at him, keeping up your joking demeanor out of nervousness.

“Pshh, no pain no game, I could have handled it, I’m a strong girl.”

“Sure you are. Now can the “strong girl” look me in the eyes?” He asks pointedly, watching as you struggle to maintain eye contact.

Opening your mouth, you try to fish for a comeback that will diffuse the sudden uncomfortable tension that’s arisen between the two of you, but fail to hook one, eventually shutting your mouth in defeat.

Hesitantly, you move your gaze to his only to feel mildly irked when you find him looking back at you with an amused smirk on his face.

You can feel a fluttering feeling rise up within you as Isagi tilts his head closer to yours, his blue eyes shining with mischief.

“You think you’re cute?” You ask with a faux annoyed look.

His grin broadens at your words.

“I think you’re cute.”

“...”

You stare at him in disbelief, your cheeks turning red.

“Fuck you.” You eventually say with a flustered laugh, turning away from his face with reddened cheeks. “Put me down right now so I can shove my foot up your ass.”

He laughs at that, a boyish, carefree chuckle that has your breath momentarily catching in your throat.

“Nah, I don’t think I will.”

As if to punctuate his words, his grip grows ever so slightly tighter as he begins to walk again, not enough to hurt but enough to discourage any struggles you might put up.

Although, truthfully, as embarrassing as the situation was, you don’t think that you could find it within yourself to even try to get out of his arms.

“Whatever, I’ll find my way out eventually, villain.” You respond rather dramatically, willing your blush to die down.

“Me? I’m the villain?” He asks as if affronted, but you don’t miss the way his eyes twinkle in amusement.

“Of course you are, look at you,” You say, gesturing to him with one hand. “stealing away maidens in the dead of night, you ought to be put away.”

Isagi laughs again, and a swell of pride rushes through you at the sound, happy to make him laugh, but still slightly jaded that you can’t seem to fluster him anymore.

“That’s a harsh reading of it, I was under the impression that this was something like “helping a damsel in distress”

“Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you’re the one putting me in distress.”

He rolls his eyes, but smiles at you.

“I’m alright with being a villain if it means stealing you away.”

“...”

You look at him in a manner almost defeated, knowing that you’ve been bested again.

“You cheeseball, you absolute grilled cheese, goldfish, cheez-it, mozzarella stick, where do you get the right?”

“You should quit while you're ahead (Name).” He says smugly.

“And you should humble yourself.” You say with a mock glare. “Remember where you started from first, because I remember that flustered mess you were on our first date.”

At least he has the gall now to look slightly wounded at your words, although the memory of him literally tripping over himself to impress you is slightly hard to shake even for a bluelock-ified Isagi.

“Alright, alright, you have a point.” He says, eventually letting up on his own, more successful flirting.

“I always have a point.” You say jokingly, slightly eased by the pressure of the growing tension dissipating.

“...Today was fun.” You speak after a while, a smile pulling at your lips. “It was nice spending time with you after all this time.”

“Yeah?” He says, looking at you through his lashes.

“Yeah.” You respond. “I mean, well, don’t get me wrong it's not that I don’t appreciate the time that we did spend together… it’s just…”

“...it’s just?” He prompts.

“...well, it's nice to have you to myself for a bit now that the season’s over.” You eventually confess, a small smile playing on your lips.

He’s silent for a bit then at your words, and when you take the time to look back at him, you're pleasantly surprised to see the sight of the blush you’ve been trying so hard to conjure on his cheeks.

“Seriously?” You can’t help but tease after you snap out of your reverie. “That’s all it took?”

He laughs at that, the sound quiet and light, the type of laugh he lets out when he’s flustered (that you rarely see these days) and it fills you with a sense of pride.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He deflects to which you let a laugh at.

“Sure…” You say teasingly. “Still, it’s nice to see that that same bashful boy at the coffee shop isn’t dead yet.”

“He never died.” Isagi responds with a smile. “He’s just been… preoccupied.”

“Preoccupied with what?”

“With how good you look right now.”

“...go fuck yourself.” You laugh out in a distinctly higher pitch, deliberately turning away to hide your face.

“What? I can’t say my girl looks good?” He goads, and you feel yourself melt despite your best efforts.

(Specifically at the way he emphasizes “my”, but that’s neither here nor there.)

“You know damn well that that’s not the problem.”

“Seems to me like you’re being hypocritical.”

“Yeah, but I’m a cute hypocrite.”

“The cutest.”

“...god damn it.” You groan out in defeat, finally turning to face him. “Fine you win, now leave me alone.”

He smirks then, something smug and predatory that sends your heart racing in a way that you’ve only experienced when reading your romance novels or when with him.

“Nah, I don’t think I will, your reactions are the best part.”

You stare at him, slack jawed for a moment before clearing your throat to weakly respond to him.

“...you need to stop.”

“Do I?” Isagi asks lowly, his breath puffing against your ear making your cheeks heat up to a temperature almost dangerous.

“...You should.” You say eventually, trying to ignore the smugness radiating off of him much like his warmth, which now seems entirely too close and all encompassing.

“Or else what?” He murmurs, his lips brushing up against your ear in a way that has you shifting in his arms to pull away from.

“We’re in public!” You hiss out instead of attempting to formulate a threat, a warning against his hands that seem to be all too eager in their subtle travels squeezing along your waist and thighs.

“And?”

Isagi’s eyes have shifted from that sweet boyish look to something hungrier, something more sinister that sends a shiver down your spine.

“...you need to behave yourself.” You choke out, your eyes refusing to make contact with his.

“And you need to be more convincing.” He coos out in a tone almost condescending. “Eyes on me, pretty girl.”

You bite down the squeak that threatens to bubble up out of your lips and shoot him a wobbly glare that he just laughs at, before letting up slightly on his touches.

“Right, right. I’m sorry.” He says finally.

You relax slightly in his hold, realizing that you’ve been clenching up on instinct, and mutter under your breath. “You should be.”

“I know.” He concedes, giving you a smile before his eyes darken slightly, again leaving you on the precipice of that roller coaster slope.

“But when we get home I hope you know I’m not letting up.” He murmurs in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine in anticipation.