#and now it's on the list to rearrange/clean my room.

[mhaccunoval]

apparently it'll be the summer of doing things

[ilovetheriddler]

Ghosts?! In this economy?!

(Ghostbusters) Lars Pinfield x F!Reader.

Word Count: 834.

Contents: One-sided crush, frustration over ghosts being in your apartment.

You were currently in your third year of college. Of course, your job didn't pay much, and you had to put a lot of your paychecks towards your tuition. So, to save on rent, you had put out a listing for a roommate. The person who ended up being your roommate was a man named Lars Pinfield. He seemed like a studios fellow, and in the four months that you had shared the apartment, he had always been really good about paying his half of the rent.

He was always out working extremely late most nights, He never really mentioned exactly what he did for work, just that he was technically a scientist. Whatever he did, he seemed very passionate about it.

You didn't really think about it too much. A part of you was a bit curious and tempted to pry for more details, but you decided that you weren't too concerned, after all, he cleaned up anything he left out, he paid his half of the rent on time, he occasionally fixed minor issues with the apartment such as faulty electrical wiring, he was essentially the perfect roommate.

You had only listed a few criteria for a roommate originally. Don't smoke heavily inside of the apartment. Do it in the hallway or outside of the window. Don't rearrange the entire layout of the main area without asking. Don't be a jerk. And finally, you had jokingly added don't bring in any demononic entities or ghosts.... at least you thought that it was so absurd that it was a joke.

"Lars?! What the hell is that thing?!"

The lights were flickering, things kept turning on and off, with Lars standing in the middle of the living room, wearing a jumpsuit and with some sort of pack on his back, it kind of resembled the same ones that the Ghostbusters used..... Oh. It dawned on you then that Lars might just be an associate of theirs.

"O-oh! Don't worry! It's simply a possesor, nothing too severe. It got out of the lab and seems to have snuck back using something of mine."

"Lab?! Wait, never mind that, more importantly, you brought a ghost back to my apartment?!"

"Once again, to clarify, I didn't intentionally bring it here...."

You watched as it moved from object to object, You felt like your nerves were shot, The numerous holes in the walls reminded you of the fact that your landlord was going to kill you over this. You couldn't even blame him if he threw the two of you out afterward! I mean, Tennants that bring ghosts into your apartment building? Yeah, it's not exactly a desirable look for the buildings reputation.

"Listen, I don't care whether it was intentional or not. Just get it out of the damn apartment!!"

"Don't worry! I'm on it. It'll only take a few minutes, and then it'll be out of your hair..."

You leaned against the wall and watched over the next few minutes as Lars attempted to trap the ghost into a small box. You let out a sigh of relief as you see it finally being sucked in and trapped in there. Thank goodness, at least it didn't destroy the entire building.

Lars had a somewhat analytical look on his face as he looked over the trap, jolting down some quick notes in a small notebook from his pocket. You glanced around and sat down on the couch, tossing a slightly singed pillow onto the floor. You were really dreading the cost of repairs if you were lucky enough not to be thrown out.

"Well, that should handle that! Everything should be just fine and good now..."

"Yeah, um... now what exactly about the current... issues with our apartment? I don't suppose that you or your Ghostbuster acquaintances are going to cover repair costs?"

"Oh. Um... I assure you that I'll handle it myself! Hmm... oh my, everything did get a bit worse for wear during this, didn't it?"

"Oh no, not at all.... The curtains have just always been on fire...."

His eyes widened once you pointed out the fact that the curtains were, in fact, on fire. He quickly put them out, leaving extremely singed and smoking curtains behind. Those had been a gift from your mother. If you didn't secretly have as huge of a crush on lars as you did, then you would have probably started looking for a different roommate.

Damn him! Damn him and his handsome face. He also looked really good in his jumpsuit, and gosh, his hair looked so nice. You wondered what it would be like to run your fingers through it before mentally cursing yourself. You could pine after Lars Pinfield later! Right now, your apartment was a more important issue. You muttered quietly under your breath.

"Damn it... you're so lucky that I love you...."

"Hmm? Did you say something? I couldn't hear you?"

"I-it was nothing important! Just um... get that ghost out of here... please..."

[weirdworldofwinnie]

Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part Six: Lover's Games

Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader NSFW 18+ only

Summary: You feel a need to follow up with Ernest Lawrence, much to Robert's dismay, and also uncover buried information that makes you turn rather rebellious.

Word Count: ~7,592

Warnings: Martial angst, infidelity, age gap, unwanted advances, slight physical violence, period stereotypical gender roles, clothed sex, some orgasm denial and sexual humiliation

Usual disclaimers apply, obviously NOT based on complete real life historical accuracy. It is essentially very much a dramatization and AU fantasy/fiction with Cillian as Oppenheimer, Josh Hartnett as Ernest Lawrence, Jack Quaid as Richard Feynman, etc. from the film only while other characters are my own entirely made up ones!

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Tag List: @forgottenpeakywriter, @frozenhuntress67, @immyowndefender, @szde8-blog, @bypurple, @irenethewoman, @uniquetacofun, @noirrose21-blog, @gridmouse86, @lacontroller1991, @kishie8, @anime-lover-forever-1127

If you'd like to be added to the list, let me know please.

June 1943

You waited a couple of weeks after the party to move past the point of just taking actual action only in consideration in the sense of springing a scheme by meeting up with Lawrence, keeping Robert under the radar all the while and he himself was certainly distant, (distracted by work of course) but also deliberately choosing to give you space. It was fine, but it made you uneasy of how much he was extracting his emotions and you were starting to feel as if you were on a carpet of thin eggshells every moment you and him were alone together, which was usually only at night sleeping in the same bed.

Weekday dinners were a polite affair as well and you mostly ate for yourself, him eating a portion of his plate before he went to shut himself in his designated office room and came to bed hours into the wee morning. He was gone longer now during the day and one early evening, you found yourself cleaning the house alone with no company or pressing responsibilities to attend to, and you went into his office, rearranging his paperwork and dusting the bookshelves when you decided to take a peek into his desk, knowing he kept many personal writings there. Perhaps a poem or musing that could give an indication of what was happening inside his brain and why you were hitting a cold patch in the marriage.

After sifting through many documents, discarded calculations, and correspondence letters, you finally found his dearest belongings buried in the bottom drawer. You knew several of these, for they were cards - birthday, anniversary, well-wishers from the wedding - and some of your own (love poems, really) that you had exchanged with him and even simple notes of wanting to meet for dinner, a party, vacation at his Perro Caliente ranch, anything that merited invitation. You grew teary at a few, oddly nostalgic even though it was only a couple of years ago. But this project had somehow changed everything out of alignment.

A thin stack of folded papers wedged in-between a Valentine's Day card from you last year and inside an envelope that had a wax heart the color of dried blood stamped on it caught your attention and you carefully peeled the corners back to extract the papers, which looked to be three separate pieces creased into halves. You took the one on top and unfolded it to reveal a letter. It had no formal or informal greeting and you blinked, reading the words in your husband's scrawling cursive handwriting. The first few lines seemed more like a diary entry than anything else until you read further...

Well, I am wearier lately than anyone could possibly guess because I have grown adept at adopting a mask of confidence and optimism. But it is a foolish man's desire to remain unchanged and hopeful in his situations that require more than words to express... I know you understand the moody tides well, my love, and I often wonder if you are feeling the bluing void edging on again as you often do, verging on the whole of complete consumption. Though it would be more appropriate to call it black as death itself; blue has been wrongly shamed in this case, although you could drown in my eyes.

Safe to say, I very much miss your presence and touch, the way you find comfort in me as if we are beyond mortal man and woman. Naturally, there are other parts of me that yearn for you as well, but I'm sure you could pinpoint exactly what. It wouldn't be proper to state it here, although I will never be sending this to you Jean. I sincerely hope you never read this because if you do, that means the war is ongoing and I have not evolved past this spout of melancholy. It is hard to determine the future when oneself is so pegged on the past and present... I feel as though I am stuck between the slides. How do I let myself be with you and yet here all at once? You feel light years away from me, though it is only a mere thousand miles, isn't it? I feel closer to the dying stars than compared to my active obligations here on Earth.

"Don't be an idiot, Robert, and alienate the few people who most understand you because one day you might need them." I can hear you say it now and I'm afraid I did exactly that to you but for reasons more monumental than myself. I thank you for being understanding over the phone, but I must remain in this slide while you are busy in your own microcosm of the world and it is easier to miss you, but I should place a bet against myself to see exactly how long this separation lasts. If you'll have me, I look forward to loving you in two or three year's time. I hope by then I do not fall out of the concept of love entirely and with an expiration date instead because that would be a tremendous dissatisfaction if you found another bull who could never match my (nor your) intellect. He would never deserve such a naughty angel as yourself and I myself won't let you linger past my mind too much longer, I promise.

Forever yours (or not, though I hope the prior),

Robert

He had added a postscript, written in original Sanskrit from The Bhagavad Gita and you squinted, seeing familiarity. You jumped up and went to the bookshelves, seeking out his copy and thumbing through the pages, finding the scripture that matched his handwriting and you recognized the passage as he had shown and translated it to you once.

And now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.

Why the fuck would he add that in as a PS in a pining love letter to his ex-girlfriend?

You put the book back and went to sit down on the floor beside his desk with the letter and other ones, which you dreaded opening in case they were more in the tone of lovesickness about Jean. You felt stunned and yet at the same time, unsurprised as if this was to be expected and maybe it was. It further proved that Robert hadn't completely emotionally filed Jean away as you'd thought and was planning on loving her again someday... Or he had just been really, really drunk when he composed this, but you highly doubted it.

Hands shaking, you set that letter aside gingerly as if it contained a deadly chemical and picked up a second folded piece of paper. When you opened it, you audibly gasped.

My Kitty,

I do hope you are well and pursuing a better life for yourself in the useful field of biology. Forgive me, I must be ridden with a fever, but wouldn't it be fortuitous if we perchance crossed paths in San Francisco one summer day? My flamboyant impossible imagination has flooded me again, so I'll indulge here: I'd see you out shopping and hopefully you would be with only female company (I take it your husband would be working, unless you have divorced) and we could strike up a conversation that led us to my Cadillac parked in the shadows of the shade, and I'd let you take refuge from the heat as my passenger and then I'd take your beautiful hand...

He had deeply scratched out the rest, but you could definitely make out a few lines of erotic poetry. In reaction, you bit your bottom lip so hard you nearly drew blood, and then reached for the last one, which was not a letter in the traditional sense, but more of a hastily scribbled note on an index card.

I need to see you soon. From one 'R' to another, you always have me at my truest regards.

You angrily swore aloud and started crumple this note, but paused. If you confronted him about it, this could blow up for both of you and you couldn't have that right now in the midst of life here for the project. No one was or could get divorced, that was not an option. No, you had to keep this secret and try to get back at him more stealthily. Robert clearly loved other women too much, that was it, and this was tangible of that. Enough was enough and it spurred on you to see the fellow you'd been avoiding since the party.

The next day, you went to Technical Area 1 and walked towards one of lab buildings, immediately noticed by the soldiers on guard and they came over, shaking their heads at you and your security clearance button, lower than permitted in such a site. You'd had to sweet talk your way just past the fencing to get to this point, but these particular hardened men didn't look swayable.

"I need to speak with my husband, it's urgent. Please," you begged dramatically, wringing your hands, and the men glanced at one another.

"He's preoccupied with his colleagues now, but we'll be sure to let him know about whatever it is, Mrs. Oppenheimer."

You pursed your lips, realizing they weren't going to let you just waltz into the building without an extremely good excuse, which you couldn't say.

"Fine. Good day, sirs." You walked far away from them and they went back to their business as you glanced around inconspicuously for an alternative entrance, going to another side. You found an unoccupied back door and hurried towards it, heart picking up pace.

"What are you doing?" a male voice called shrewdly from nearby behind.

"Shit," you muttered, whipping around to see a very suspicious Officer Nichols standing several feet away. Thankfully though, he was solitary.

"I'll have to report this, you know," he warned as you backed towards the shut door, forcing a big smile.

"Or what? You'll shoot me for finding my own husband?"

"Depends on the context. Dr. Oppenheimer is a very busy man and I'm sure he has much better to do with his limited time than to entertain his diligent token housewife."

You flushed angrily, feeling for the doorknob and of course it was locked.

"I swear to God I'm not doing anything else but speaking to him. I hardly know squat about quantum mechanics and the nature of his work," you lied, trying to appear absolutely innocent.

"Then what is so important you need to interrupt proceedings?" Officer Nichols asked sharply, coming closer.

"It's a highly urgent personal matter."

"I see." He paused, darting his eyes up and down the length of your body for a second before he spoke curiously.

"You haven't physically left The Hill since your arrival, is that correct?"

"Yes...?" you replied, unsure of where he was going with this.

Nichols stared at you for a moment through his glasses glinting in the midday sun and you looked back, locked in a strange thirty second unnerving silence of equilibrium. Finally he moved, stepping forward and nodding.

"I'll personally make sure that you never do."

"But no, I... I was planning on going shopping for supplies with some of the ladies this weekend in Santa Fe?"

He was silent and you were surprised when he took out a ringlet of keys, going to unlock the door.

"We all must make sacrifices, Mrs. Oppenheimer, and I'm sure your husband would agree. This is your reward for the loss of such a privilege, so go now before I change my mind and report you to General Groves."

You quickly darted inside without a backward glance, heart thudding in aftermath of the interaction. Did he really mean that? Would he get in trouble if someone found out? Or more importantly, would you get in a tight spot for sneaking around?

You strode through the maze of hallways past lab rooms, offices, and the like until you heard dull voices up ahead and saw Robert's back, face to the chalkboard, through a half-cracked door. The scientists turned to stare when they heard your heels come to a halt in the doorway, looking away from their paperwork and the blackboard. The awkward silence was deafening; a pin could drop at any moment and a man coughed, just to relieve the stagnant air. The lone female physicist of the group, Dr. Lilli Hornig, gave you a curious look with a quick polite smile as she scribbled something on a piece of paper. Robert froze with a cigarette in one hand and a piece of whittled chalk in the other, his blues boring into your face out of sheer shock.

"Y/N, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?"

"No. I merely need to borrow that man right there for a moment of time. It's a personal matter," you announced crisply, pointing straight at Ernest Lawrence, whose expression morphed from surprise and to utter bemusement.

"Excuse me, then," he muttered and stood up, shuffling papers self consciously before making his way to you, moving down the hallway. You randomly led him to an empty storage room and opened the door, lightly pushing him inside.

"What are you doing?" he asked empathically as you faced him in the middle of the room, steadying yourself as you looked up at him, unaccustomed to being so close to a man considerably taller and bulkier than Robert's physicalie.

"Remember a couple weeks ago in May at last month's party?" you asked briskly and his brow furrowed in realization.

"Admittedly, not as much as I should. Oppie jokingly mentioned the next day afterwards about needing to restrict the amount liquor we're consuming at the house when you're hosting because we're not frat boys," he replied with an honest shrug.

"Do you recall that kiss you gave me out of the blue?"

His face flexed, eyebrows shooting up as his mouth twitched in guilty humor and you narrowed your eyes.

"Yes, perhaps a bit of it. In my defense though, I wasn't quite all there and there was talk going around, silly talk. I was dared into doing it, actually."

Now your own eyebrows mimicked his at this confession and you stepped closer, toe-to-toe with his shoes.

"Who dared you?"

"Promise to keep it to yourself?"

"Sure."

"Richard was the instigator and then the rest of the guys coaxed him on. Absolute ridiculousness we never would have done otherwise, I swear to you it's the high altitude of this place having an effect on our immature raucous behavior combined with alcohol."

"Feynman? The rascal, I could've guessed," you rolled your eyes disapprovingly and he sighed, shifting slightly on his feet.

"I really do apologize for the regrettable behavior, I sincerely promise it won't happen again," he told you seriously and you cocked your head slightly, giving him a once-over.

"Do you find me attractive?"

Lawrence immediately grew reserved and reluctant, making a grimace.

"Oh, I... I, oh no, I don't think it would be permissible to answer that."

"Go ahead. I dare you."

He swallowed nervously and came close with intimidation, making you stagger back all the way to the wall behind you, where he placed a hand up on it by your head, leaning in intimately and his warm breath tickled your cheeks.

"Yes, I suppose. But I'm happily married and certainly not looking for trouble or to wreck your own marriage. You must think I'm a very lousy friend," he admitted quietly.

"I think you underestimate me, Doctor," you whispered, nearly a purr, as you moved close and brushed his cheek with your fingers. He tried to speak, but you shushed him and gently removed his glasses, letting them dangle in your grip as you tilted into him, pressing your other hand firmly to his broad chest, squeezing the fabric of his vest.

Footsteps suddenly sounded from the hall outside, so you made it fast, giving Ernest a fast peck on the lips, just in time as then the door briskly yanked open and Robert poked his head in dubiously. You leaned back, still holding the glasses and Lawrence fumbled for them, accidentally interlocking fingers as your husband stared in confused disbelief.

"Y/N? What is the meaning of all this? We have work to do, why are you taking up his time?"

"Oppie, it's fine, we were just..." Ernest paused, readjusting rims of the glasses back on his face and he turned to you, a bit breathless.

"What were we talking about exactly?"

"All your great achievements, including the Nobel Prize, in contributing to the advancement of science, most notably your famous cyclotron and I was inquiring about the exact mechanics of how such a thing works. Something along the lines of high energy particles and acceleration...?"

"Right, because you were going to write to your father, who is curious about it," he caught on, proliferating this cock-and-bull conversation.

"And why do you need to interrupt our work about that? Aren't you supposed to elsewhere?" Robert asked, not hiding annoyance in plain sight. You could feel Ernest staring, gaze locked on you and your stomach butterflied, but you gave a brave face.

"You mean my womanly duties at home?" you snapped back.

"Yes, or however you may call it. Now, we need our physicist back if you'll pardon me." He beckoned Lawrence urgently and the man reluctantly pulled himself away from you, clearly ashamed and flustered. Once he was out of the room, Robert stepped inside and shut the door closed with snap. His face was taunt and irritated, fingers habitually fiddling for the ghost of a cigarette.

"What are you playing at here?" he demanded, already hurt without any explanation.

"Just a follow up to our last meeting," you said causally enough to anger him. He crossed to meet you in two strides, catching your wrist and lifting up your arm, interlacing his fingers very tightly with yours as he spoke lowly, intensively.

"What is the matter, am I not giving you enough? Do I not provide enough for you? You feel an urge to court my best man and colleague all of a sudden because you are bored of your humdrum domesticity? Is that what you love about Los Alamos, the fine selection of like-minded substitutes once you tire of me? Am I not enough?" His voice raised before he caught himself, releasing a shaky breath. He was genuinely upset and you felt rotten, but only for a second. It's not like he was clean in this either.

"Don't be ridiculous. I swear, you always assume the worst of me," you scoffed in response.

"Well, I certainly know a cheat when I see one," he said bitterly, twisting his fingers out of yours and dropping his arm.

"Yes, you would know indeed. But Jesus, Robert, he's only a friend, your friend I might add, and it was only a bit of fun, nothing serious. You said it yourself, it's good for him to loosen up. What else are parties for?"

"Right. Oh, yes, I'm sure that's exactly it," he replied sarcastically.

"He started it, you know, after Richard dared him to kiss me apparently at the party."

"Then I'll be speaking to both of them. But you need to stop it, quit acting so childish and inappropriate over this. You're smarter than this shtick and there is too much at stake to be partaking in silly juvenile romantic games."

"You do realize I'm at least fifteen years younger than you, right? You can't expect me to be, well, whatever it is called to be at your age. Old, is it?" you mocked and normally that would've sounded very rude in any other situation, but he knew your sharp side all too well to take it too seriously, especially when delivered with a teasing smile.

"You couldn't think of a worse slander than 'old'?" he scoffed, unimpressed, and you snorted, tapping the knot of his tie affectionately.

"The point is, I am indeed younger than you."

"So? I have no issue with that and you have proved yourself very capable of co-existence so far, I think you are quite mature for your age actually, at least until now... But I don't think biological age matters in love."

"I was just over eighteen when you began courting me and you used to flirt with your few female physics students that were no older," you reminded him and he diverted his gaze, tapping his foot anxiously and he distractedly flicked out a cigarette from his pocket pack, lighting it in a second and puffing in response. You stepped back from the plume of smoke, glancing towards the window and crossing your arms. He exhaled loudly and jerked his hand to point the cigarette at you and then spoke with ultimatum.

"I don't want to see you enter this laboratory with the intention of unnecessary interruption ever again. I will tell the officers outside to stop and restrain you if you do. Hell, I'll take these matters to the General if I have to, you hear me on that?"

"I certainly do as a matter of fact and I also know for a fact that you'd be wasting his time. Petty marriage squabbles isn't a high priority or forte for a high-ranking military man like him. But as for you, well, now you know what it feels like to be jeopardized over another human being," you countered.

"My ties are very different and I would never think to do it so publicly! I am discreet about such internal, highly private business," he exclaimed, getting frustrated with this discussion and this made you laugh humorlessly.

"Bullshit and you know that. I saw you a week before our wedding walking hand in hand with Jean down Shasta Road and what about that time afterwards when our friends saw you dancing with-"

He quickly talked louder, running over your words heatedly.

"No, no, no. You are just feeding into this ridiculousness and fabricating a relationship that isn't there!"

"Maybe so, but I thought it would be a good lesson, or test, for you and if this is any indicator, you've been bothered. I take heart in that you must love me so that it has unnerved you to see me with another man."

"There was never any doubt that I love you. Christ, if that's what this is all about..." He sighed, rubbing his creased forehead briefly before walking backwards to the door, opening it up and you could hear the dull chatter of voices from the other room.

"Well?" you asked when he didn't do anything, just standing with hands on his hips.

"I want you to do whatever it is that pleasures you, just as long as it doesn't happen to be luring my top physicist and close friend in a back room during the middle of a workday. Have some standard decency for God's sake," he spat, the words stinging, and you crystalized, uncrossing your arms and shaking your head at the hypocrisy.

"I never noticed it until we came here, but Ruth sure has your attention, doesn't she?"

"Pardon?" He blinked.

"You heard me."

"Ruthie has nothing to do with this and how dare you drag her name through your muddled mood today."

"Ruthie?" You rolled your eyes at clear affection underlying his tone.

"Listen to yourself Robert, you have feelings for her, you've always been close."

"She's a very dear friend, one of the few people I can truly confide in and share my emotions with, nothing more," he insisted.

"Am I part of that select number of confidants?"

"Of, of course. Has our entire marriage been for naught? I cannot believe your attitude over this, it's deplorable."

"It must be very nice to be you, Robert. No one here in Los Alamos casts open judgement upon you," you commented bitterly and he cringed, closing his eyes for a brief moment before staring back at you.

"Not yet, anyway," he answered with a tone of cryptic ominousness and you only frowned, shoving past him to exit the building.

A full twenty four hours passed without further incident until you haphazardly ran into Feynman on the street, just the man you were looking for.

"Richard?"

"Yeah?" He stopped and gave you a familiar cocky smile which dropped at the narrowed eyes and serious expression you were giving him.

"Oh, is this about the party? I didn't think he'd even do it, I apologize for our frivolousness that night. Clearly very unacceptable." He cleared his throat awkwardly and you leaned close, speaking in a low murmur.

"Do me a favor?"

"Uh, sure...?"

"I have an assignment for you: Find me a single man - preferably scientist - in this town, anyone remotely attractive will do, but no close friends or direct colleagues of Robert's, it has to be at least second or third tier from his inner circle and single - I'm not crossing into some other woman's territory - and arrange me a date with him in secret. Think of it as an experimental equation: One attempted devoted wife plus one all-but-labeled womanizer husband plus unsuspecting stag. It's time to give someone a taste of his own sweet and sour medicine."

"Oh, you feel like causing a scandal, do you? It won't take a mathematician to see what it'll will add up to." He chuckled in disbelief but then dropped his voice, casting wary glances around at passing residents, or civilians, as everyone who was non-military were officially called.

"Are you quite sure about this?"

"If I let my conscience speak, then no. But if I let every other fiber of my being, then yes. Will you do it?"

"I... I can't, no, this is beneath us," he protested, scratching the back of his neck in discomfort.

"It's one event at a casual party, it's quite another outside... Well, you know. Real tampering with people's lives has consequences and I'm not sure I'm the man for this job, I think if maybe, it-"

"I'll pay you," you interrupted quickly and he quirked an eyebrow and leaned closer.

"How much?" he whispered curiously.

"Twenty?"

"Make it 100 and you've got yourself a deal. I'll do it and you can pay me later at your convenience. Now excuse me, but I have some business elsewhere."

He hurried off and there was no further word until one early morning you came into the kitchen as Robert was dressing his toast and brewing coffee, and you were surprised to see a bouquet of long stemmed red roses on the table. Naturally, you looked to him as his habit of flower gifting was infamous, but he was staring just as confounded as you were. He seemed positively rattled, in fact.

"Did you...?" he asked and you echoed that same question.

"Did you?"

"No, I haven't been flower picking as of late," he replied dryly with a taut closed smile and then it dawned on you. Could it be from the mystery date you'd sent Feynman to set up?

"I'll put them in the living room, shall I? They'll get the strong afternoon light that will illuminate their velvety rouge petals," you expressed and he nodded emotionlessly, turning back to the toast and grabbing the pot of coffee.

Once you were alone in the lounge, you carefully inspected the flowers; they were beautiful and fairly fresh, only one or two were curling at the tips from the heat and as you held it up to admire, there was a small square piece of paper taped on the bottom of the skinny glass vase: It was a thin note, reading of a scrambled code of some sorts. You smirked, knowing it had to be Feynman who did this; he was always writing letters in code to his ailing sweetheart stuck in Albuquerque.

"Y/N, have you seen my badge? It's gone missing!" Robert called anxiously from the kitchen and you quickly tore the note off the bottom and tucked it into your pajamas.

"You probably left it on the dresser," you called back to him absentmindedly.

Once he left for the day, you sat down and worked to crack the code, which wasn't terribly hard considering it was predictable; boiling down to an address, date and time. You'd hoped for a name of the mystery gentleman, but didn't seem to get one.

That evening, you dressed in one of your finest silk dresses, red in color as the roses, and made your way to the bachelor's dormitory on the other side of town. You technically weren't allowed to be transversing around here, especially at this hour, and you cringed at a couple of catcalling whistles from young drunken men loitering outside. You ignored them, hurrying up the stairs to the mystery man's dorm and knocked once. The door opened, almost cautiously, and a decent looking young man stood there, his short brunette hair combed back and he wore a well pressed suit but with a blue tie slightly out of alignment.

"Good evening, Ma'am," he greeted in a pleasant voice and you automatically blushed, staring into his eyes which were a very watered-down literation of Robert's own blues; if his were the ocean, this man's were a lake on a grey skied afternoon and it made you feel a tad sad about doing this. Of course no man's eyes could ever quite compare.

"Hello...?" you trailed off, needing a name to this blind date of yours.

"My name is Anthony, Mrs. Oppenheimer."

"Pleasure to meet you and please, that makes me sound old and tethered. Just call me Y/N."

He nodded, stepping aside and you went inside, closing the door behind you as you surveyed the somewhat neat living quarters consisting of basic furniture and scattered paperwork and magazines.

"I apologize if this is rather awkward, but I take it Richard gave you the details?"

"More or less," Anthony answered and the way he was ogling at you wasn't so much like piece of meat, but out of respect and disbelief that he had actually had a date with the wife of the top dog scientific director of Los Alamos.

"Would you care for a drink? I just have, uh, scotch if that's alright. Probably different from what you're used to," he murmured the last part and you assured him quickly it was alright.

"Yes I would, thank you."

He handed a half filled glass to you gently and you noticed his hands were trembling slightly.

"You don't have to be nervous, I'm really not all that remarkable. I may have my husband's name, but I'm certainly not him, you know. We all bask in the long reaching shade of Oppie, don't we?"

"Right, of course," he chuckled, offering you a seat on the sofa and taking a sip of his own, regarding you impressively.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?" you asked tenderly and he shrugged, still rather timid.

"I was dating a girl back in college but we broke off right before I signed onto the project."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty four," he answered.

"Good, not younger than me; I suppose we are perhaps compatible then in that respect. You don't need to hear my life story, but I was a year in studying medicine at Stanford until this and now I suppose I'm just another housewife at the moment." You sighed, taking a small sip and nodding at him pleasantly.

"So what do you do here, generally? I take it you aren't one of the boys in Oppie's so-called cult?"

"No, I'm an engineer actually. I work in one of the labs, hands on, none of that theoretical bunch."

You nodded approvingly and there was a lapse of silence until he gestured with his glass, sloshing the liquid slightly.

"So I take it you're quite unhappy with... with Dr. Oppenheimer if you wanted to meet with another man?" he asked cautiously, disguising excitement.

"No questions, if you don't mind. I'm not here to talk about him," you replied seriously and he nodded fervently, setting the drink down on the side table.

"Yes, right. I apologize. I guess that doesn't leave much formalities then." He paused, swiping his tongue across his lips.

"I'd like to kiss you if that's not rushing too much," he proposed politely, but with a tone of urgency.

"Go right ahead." You braced as he leaned in, inches from your lips and you shared air for a second before he plunged forward, groping your mouth fast and lightly. But it felt all so wrong. You lightly pulled back, his hands not even holding your face like Robert always did so there wasn't much real intimacy, and glanced to the floor self consciously.

"I'm sorry, I can't do this," you murmured guiltily. Maybe it wasn't even your conscience; maybe he just wasn't the right guy.

"But I thought you wanted it...?" Anthony's brows furrowed in hurt confusion and offense, so you quickly backpedaled.

"Not here, we can't do anything here. How about... Do you want to come over to my home?" you blurted out abruptly and he swallowed.

"But is-isn't your husband home?"

"That's the point."

Gathering courage for the both of you, Anthony then stood and took your hand to walk you to the door, leading you out down to the street level and the two of you walked all the way to Bathtub Row together. You could tell he was in awe of these homes that were larger and much better constructed.

"So this is how the other side lives." Anthony gave a low whistle and you laughed, bumping his side gently.

"Don't worry. We use the same water, electricity, and plumbing as you do, it's just a little more glamorous and I promise you anyone living in Los Alamos to work on the project is not substandard or lower class, even if the military may be rather degrading at times. It's all just a socially constructed hierarchy."

He squeezed your waist affectionately and you led him to the house, telling him to wait by the shrubs as you walked around to peer into the windows to see if Robert was still up, which you'd be surprised if he wasn't, and indeed he was: reclining in an armchair by the fireplace, reading and puffing on his pipe.

You signaled to Anthony to come closer and he crossed the yard to stand by the side of the house, appearing wary. He mouthed 'do you see him?' and you nodded, turning your back to the window and beckoned to him to move close. He carefully did so until he was a few inches from your face and you swallowed at the intimacy, the daring nerve to kiss a man right in front of the windowpanes where your husband sat in the living room.

"Kiss me, but passionately this time, no holding back. Just pretend it's only the two of us, okay?" you whispered and he breathed in, parting lips.

"Is this a dream?" he whispered and you giggled lightly, straddling his body and cupping the back of his neck, hairs bristling your fingers.

"Only if you want it to be, but no telling anyone when you wake up, understand?"

"No one would believe me... I feel as though I'm about to commit a great sin against the Oppenheimer unity, I can't believe I'm going to do this," he admitted with a dark chuckle.

"I can," you breathed and before you knew it, his lips connected to yours and the kiss was actually amazingly passionate indeed for two people who just personally met tonight. You breathed in his musky scent and intertwined tongues, smooshing noses and you felt him push you up against the window, arms embracing you whole and you secretly hoped it would eventually catch Robert's attention. Your intention was just one full kiss, but now this man had you, he seemed reluctant to let go as you began to lean back from his mouth, head lightly conking against the window. Anthony groped your breasts hungrily and you felt his hard-on pressing against your thigh as your bodies rubbed, the kissing becoming sloppier and for a moment, you completely forgot what you'd done this for. A faint yell came from somewhere and Anthony grew more attached, tightening his grasp on your frame, kissing harder and you started to feel a slight wetness in your panties.

"Stop! Get off of her! Please, that's my wife!" Robert's voice called in audible distress and you realized this must look a lot worse than it was, and you had to admit this man was getting a bit rougher as his more primal desire came to fruition and you grunted, turning your head and trying to wriggle out from underneath his locking embrace.

"That's enough, enough," you murmured anxiously, but he wasn't stopping.

"You said this could be my dream, can't ya let me finish first?" Anthony growled in your ear, but you were done, having successfully alarmed your husband. This wasn't meant to go further and quite frankly, you were unnerved how quickly it had escalated. He wasn't quite the shy gentleman scientist anymore once he was aroused, but you supposed these types of adventures did bring out the animalistic behavior in most after all.

Simple souls, Robert had said once of human beings.

Unfortunately, he was now witness to such a 'simple man' about to take you right on the windows of his stone and log cabin style house.

"STOP THAT NOW!" Robert yelled off to the right and you felt Anthony being forcefully tugged away, his arm flailing out and trying to grasp, catching your hair and you winced as he accidentally yanked painfully.

You were suddenly released and you gasped, sidestepping and watching in shock as Robert tried to jump on the man, his belt removed from his waist and gripped tightly in his hands as he wrestled it aggressively around Anthony's neck, constricting with enough force to make him gag and choke.

"Robert, no!" you shouted, rushing forward and attempting to pull him away, but it was as if he were deaf to the wind.

"I demand you to LEAVE my property at once and to NEVER see my wife, or this won't end on civilized terms," he threatened loudly and you'd never seen such a fire in his piercing eyes before. It intrigued and frightened you, considering he was not a brute in any sense. Anthony pleaded through his choking, whimpering pathetically, until Robert finally backed off, snapping the belt and huffing.

The other man stumbled up to his feet and held up his hands in surrender as Robert squinted in the dark, trying to fully identify him.

"I'm terribly apologetic Dr. Oppenheimer, sir, I won't bother you or the Mrs. anymore, I'll be right on my way!"

Anthony ran like a bat out of hell from the property and once it was silent, Robert turned to you with heavy breaths, the belt hanging limply at his side. You took one look and then rushed inside in the house, kicking off your heels in the hallway and dashing into the bedroom, slamming the door, heart pounding a sprint.

Moments later, you heard his clodding footsteps and anxious voice calling out desperately, the door bursting open.

"Jesus Christ, are you alright?" he gasped as you shrunk away from him, still feeling Anthony's hands all over you and the whole guilt imploded, resulting in a sudden overflow of tears.

"Fuck, Robert! It's all my fault, I told Richard Feynman to set us up and I told Anthony to come here as a show to make you jealous and it advanced, I promise he meant no harm, we just wanted-"

"You did this on purpose?" he interrupted, betrayal lighting his features and you wiped messily at the tears streaming down your own.

"Yes! I kissed him on purpose! I wanted to spite you, I'm sorry but I cannot handle this anymore! I wanted to hurt and infuriate you like you do to me with your blatant love of other women! I bribed Richard $100 for a date with a single scientist, I didn't know what I'd get, but I'm glad you saw us together, it is only fair when I have to read love letters to past girlfriends... or are they just current 'friends'?!"

His mouth gaped and the frown lines appeared, creasing his forehead in prudent anger.

"The audacity... I suppose I indeed underestimated you, my sweet Aphrodite," he said lowly, voice a low rumble and despite everything you actually felt a shiver of arousal in your core.

In two strides, he met you at the foot of the bed, grabbing your head in a vice and in a bizarrely dominant twist, pinned you down to the bed, trapping you underneath him and yet you saw the uncertainty flicker. He was pretending to be so dominant, but couldn't take the reins fully.

Oh, Oppie.

"Roll over," you ordered sharply and he did, collapsing onto his back as you unbuttoned his pants and yanked them down hastily, staring at his cock straining against his boxers. You placed your palm on it, teasing him and he moaned softly, shaking his head at the deviousness on your face.

"No, please. Please, let me out, please don't do this, please..."

Begging. He was actually begging. After he just had attacked a man outside and was reeling from your confession, he was here at an embarrassingly burgeoning erection.

"I'm so close that I don't need you inside me, but I think you need a bit more help, is that right?" you whispered condescendingly and he gulped, eyes wide dilated marbles.

"I'm sorry about all of it, I never meant t-to-" he sputtered off as you clapped a hand to his mouth and you straddled his body, legs quivering with anticipation.

His penis grew harder and a clear wet stain bled through the fabric, causing him to squirm underneath you and you smiled, bumping up and grinding against clothed erection. You yelped at the sudden rush of internal pleasure and his hands gripped your dress at the hips, gasping along with your heaves and whines, but he himself was yet to peak. He seemed mortified as you then sat back and placed firm hands down on his crotch, holding his bulge tightly. He groaned, mortified as you wouldn't let him go, and after stretching him out to his limits for too long, a single squeeze brought him to a full climax, absolutely soaking his boxers and he threw his head back on the pillow, reveling in the orgasm.

Panting, you climbed off him and he weakly sat up, holding out a hand with the other on his wet crotch in sheer humiliation. You left the bed, gathering your appearance and catching breath.

"No, don't... Don't leave," he requested desperately from his spot on the bed and you shook your head, tousling hair as you glanced over at him.

"Clean up your own mess, darling," you told him firmly, a metaphor as much as a literal one.

He sighed, swinging legs off the bed and hobbling off to the bathroom as you began to undress, slipping out of the dress and into a bedtime robe.

He came back in, clean but utterly naked, and his dick was still dripping a smidge at the tip.

"You very much ruined a good pair of my underwear," he complained and you merely shrugged, patting the bed as you crawled in and he joined, scooting under the sheets and pulling you close, resting his forehead at yours, speaking in a mutter.

"You just had to stoop low with that male 'catch' of yours, didn't you?"

"That's not very nice, darling. Anthony seemed like a nice man and he's an engineer, I'll have you know."

"He isn't a third of the man I am."

"No one is you, Robert. That's why I went to another man in the first place."

"I truly wanted to suffocate the life out of him, I would have maimed him quite seriously had I lacked control. I haven't thought of doing such a terrible action since my Cambridge episodes, my terrible fits of jealousy... I suppose I expressed protection over you," he mused grimly.

"It's the thought that counts," you commented darkly.

"I can be so impulsive and erratic... You and everyone knows quite well how I was going to poison my tutor; I had injected potassium cyanide in the body of that innocent apple and left it on his desk..."

You remembered it had been Jean who had offhandedly first mentioned this story to you and she had assured you it was only because he was going through a very difficult phase in his life and actually all he needed to feel fulfilled was to just "get laid" as she aptly put it. Funnily enough, 'getting laid' was the least of Robert's problems now.

He took your hand at the moment and grasped too hard, squeezing your fingers, leaning towards you anxiously and speaking urgently.

"Listen, and I mean this very much: Don't ever see another man, I don't think I can do this again without gravely spraining my heart."

"And your enormous ego," you added the obvious with a small smile and he returned it, also giving you a light kiss on the cheek and cuddling in close.

"I love you," he offered gently and you shot him a glance, unable to hide the blushing smirk.

"Touché."

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 17

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader 

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list. This chapter is a little heavier (as is the story going forward, but I'll include potential triggers for each chapter as relevant), so please read the TW below and only read on if you feel comfortable doing so.

Potential Trigger Warnings: none

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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After waking up on the couch feeling slightly hungover and entirely dirty and stiff, I spend well over an hour in the shower, scrubbing off my makeup, washing the hair spray out of my hair and cleaning off the sweat from last night’s dancing. Feeling fully refreshed and clean, I wrap myself in a towel and lay on the bed. As I lay there staring at the ceiling the memories from last night flash back: my dance with Jensen, the ride back to the apartment, the conversation in the hall. I sit bolt upright. 

“Shit.” 

I jump up and search for my purse among the wedding boxes and pull out my phone but it’s flat. I take it back to my room and plug it in and wait impatiently for the screen to light up. I tap the screen multiple times, despite knowing it won’t speed up the process. While I wait, I pace around the room. I try to sort through everything that was said last night. I suddenly remember the plan I made. 

“Shit. Shit. Shit.” 

I run back to my phone on the bedside table and tap the screen impatiently three more times. When the screen finally lights up, I unlock it and scroll through for notifications, but there are none. I check the time: 10:47 am. I toss up with my options. Do I text Jensen and call it all off? I know I won’t get another chance if I do, he’s sure to get fed up with my hot and cold attitude. So, do I instead call Stewie and ask permission to use the cafe after close? But how could I possibly ask for or explain that. So, instead, do I wing it and hope for the best? Sneak in and clean up and lock up after and hope he never finds out? How could I possibly pull that off? I know there’s cameras on the street. 

I start to pace again as I begin to hyperventilate. What the hell have I gotten myself into? The one person I want to call and vent to, I know I can’t. Even if we are back to normal again, I refuse to disturb her honeymoon with my stupidity and drama. I pick my phone up and scroll through my contacts looking for anyone who could possibly comfort me and give me answers in Stella’s absence. I hover over Jensen’s contact, considering calling the whole thing off, but I force myself to scroll past it. I then hover over my mom’s contact. Just as I’m about to call her, an email notification pops up at the top of the screen. I go to push it away but it catches my eye. 

AUDITIONS FOR NEW YORK’S PRODUCTION OF GREASE OPEN AT 10am WEDNESDAY!

I tap on it to read the full email and I notice it’s fully addressed to me and time stamped at 5am. Is this the audition Stella submitted me for? We’ve watched the film together almost as many times as Moulin Rouge, so it must be. How is this the only reminder? I scroll through to the spam folder and low and behold there are three other emails informing me of the audition pages, date and time. I open the script and scan through it. Thanks to Stella’s surprise and the stupid auto spam folder, I now only have a few days to memorise the lines and figure out how I want to deliver them, pick a song to sing and prepare to learn the choreography. Sure, I could skip it, but I promised Stella, plus, it’s the role of a lifetime if I get it. There’s a reason there are four résumé emails sitting in my drafts; those job descriptions don’t make my heart race the way auditions and broadway do. 

Now with a new focus, I throw on a pair of warm jeans, a sweater, boots and brush my hair. As I grab my favourite bag and search for my library card the still-blank NDA catches my eye. I leave it there as I rearrange my everyday wallet to put my ID and money back in from the fancy wedding purse. On the way out the door I grab an apple and rush downstairs, onto the street and over a few blocks to the library. 

Inside the massive, historical-looking building I make a bee-line for the computer room. I log in to my emails and send the document to the printer. After logging out I take my pages and head to one of the private rooms to familiarise myself with the lines. I read through them in my head a few times before trialling them out loud. 

“Oh, Danny, you don’t know how much this means to me! Now I know that you really care about me … What’s gotten into you? I thought we were just going to be steadies! I’ve never seen you like this. Just because you give me your ring doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want. I’m still the same girl as last summer. I’m sorry, Danny. Maybe we should just forget the whole thing.”

As I read the words aloud, my accusation sparks through my mind. I feel like an idiot for accusing him of coming all this way just to get laid. I collapse on a beanbag and hang my head between my knees. After a few minutes of feeling sorry for myself, I force myself to stand up and keep practising the lines. At least for now I need to forget myself and channel her sweet, innocent and pure nature. 

I read through the monologue with various intonations until my throat feels dry and hoarse. My stomach growls loudly and I stuff the slides into my bag and wander out onto the street where it’s lightly snowing; but not the nice type of fluffy white snow, it’s more like freezing rain. I groan as I traipse through the puddles towards the cafe. The second I pull open the glass door, the warmth and smell of fresh bread envelops me. I sigh happily as I wipe my feet and make my way over to the glass display case to see what’s still available so late in the day. Once I finally get to the front of the line I order a warm almond croissant and a mocha latte. 

As I sit down and wait for my colleague to bring over my order I pull out the NDA. I continue reading through it. As I read, the food gets delivered and I savour each delicious bite as it warms me from the inside. When I finally get to the end of final page I reach down to pull out a pen, but as I sit up my elbow makes contact with the mug and the last mouthful of dark liquid spills over the open document. I try dabbing at it with napkins. But that just makes it worse; smudging the words and tearing the drenched pages. I sigh as I drop my head to the table in defeat. 

I don’t notice the room empty out around me until my coworker comes over to clear the table. He hovers closeby taking in my desheveled state. “I take it your friend’s wedding went well?” I look up at him confused. “Stilll battling that hangover?” He says as he gestures at his head.

“Oh…Yeah, I guess. It’s been a big few weeks.”

“Yeah, I bet.” He stands there kinda awkwardly for a minute.

I finally realise what he’s waiting for. “Oh, sorry, I’ll let you clean up. Sorry.”

“Thanks.” As I pack away my things I hear the door bell jingle and my colleague walks back towards it and says. “Hey, sorry, we’re actually closed.”

“That’s not what the sign says,” I hear an instantly recognisable deep voice jest.

I look over at the two men conversing in the doorway and I will the ground to swallow me whole. I know I’m a mess. I had meant to go home and change, especially after the rain, but then the coffee and…I sigh. I swing my bag over my shoulder as I stand up straight to face the music. Jensen looks over at me as he notices movement. He gives me a small smile before a look of concern sets in. I make my way over to them. Not sure how else to defuse and take charge of the situation I make the most of my seniority over my coworker. “Hey Jonah, could you pack up the leftover food for this man please? Just as an apology for the inconvenience. The sign should be flipped first, if it’s not we’re still technically open,” I say as I walk past Jensen to flip the sign. I feel a little bad for being harsh on Jonah, I know he’s just finished high school and has only been doing solo closes for about a month, but I had to learn things the hard way too, so I brush it off.

“Right, sorry. Of course.”

Once Jonah finishes packing up the last few remaining pastries he places them on the counter. Jensen pulls out his card, “How much, man?”

Jonah glances over at me briefly before nervously starting to punch in the numbers.

“Did you already close the till?” I ask as I lean against the counter to glance at the machine. He nods awkwardly, clearly scared. I grab the box and hand it to Jensen. “I’m so sorry for the inconvenience, sir. These are on the house. Enjoy.”

Jonah’s jaw drops. “But…Stewie, he said…” he glances nervously at Jensen and then back at me. He drops his voice, “We can’t afford anymore handouts…We need…”

“They just go in the bin or to the homeless otherwise, what’s the harm?”

“Not anymore, he said we have to wrap them up and sell them discounted next day. New year, new rules”

“New year, new rent increase, more like…Shit. Alright…If he notices, tell him he can take it off my next pay.”

Jensen pipes up from behind me, “Is there a problem? I can pay, I don’t mind.” I shake my head. He pulls his wallet back out and sorts through the notes. “How much would it have cost? Can you ring that up?”

Jonah looks at me for confirmation and I nod at the till. He punches in the numbers and reads out the final price: $42.87. Jensen pulls out a fifty and places it on the counter. 

“I can’t give you change, sir.”

“Consider it a tip.”

The younger boy looks at me at a loss at what to do. “I open tomorrow, put the fifty in the drawer, write down the prices and I’ll sort it. You good to finish closing on your own?”

He nods, “Thanks.”

I nod and follow Jensen outside. A few steps away he says, “You really had to work today?”

“No, I just…I get discounts there, though it sounds like that’s gonna stop soon. It’ll be such a shame to see this place go. Stewie’s so passionate.”

He leans against a building and I join him. “You don’t get enough trade?”

“We do, especially since those photos got leaked, rent’s just insane and the cost of ingredients. But you didn’t come all this way to discuss how I might lose my job.”

He then notices the wad of dirty scrunched up paper in my hands. He gestures his head towards it, “You need a bin?”

I sigh and hold it up. “It was an accident, I swear! I was going to sign it, I promise!”

“Is that the NDA?” He bursts out in laughter. “After everything, it’s a bit late for that, don’t ya think?” He tears it in half and then walks towards a bin on the corner. I follow him in disbelief.

“But…”

He shakes his head. “Don’t sweat it.” He holds up the box of food. “You got somewhere we can eat this? Since we got kicked out of where you told me to meet you.”

I know that no where else in the area will let us bring outside food in; everyone’s struggling just as much as each other. A cold breeze blows past and I shiver. Without saying anything I let my tired, freezing body and feet lead the way. 

Once Jensen recognises the apartment he asks, “We gonna eat in the hall or you gonna invite me in tonight?”

“Sorry ‘bout that. You can come in as long as you promise not to comment on the mess.”

“How messy are we talkin’?”

I don’t comment as we get into the elevator.

I turn up the thermostat before quickly doing my best to tidy up as Jensen stands in the doorway taking in the tiny apartment. I freeze as I notice him staring. “I bet your hotel room’s bigger than this…I know it’s not much…”

He quickly pushes off the door and comes over to me. “No, No…It’s…It’s nice…cute.”

I roll my eyes and walk away to tidy off the coffee table. “I’m sorry, I just, I didn’t have any plans for tonight. I wasn’t thinking. I just…I don’t know. I guess I was drunk and exhausted…”

He places the box on the now-clear table and reaches for my hand. “I don’t need big plans.” He pulls back and runs his hands through his hair and sighs, “See, this is why it was easier when you didn’t know who I was. Now you have all these preconceived ideas about me…I liked the way you looked at me and spoke to me before.”

Seeing him feeling just as uncomfortable and nervous as me helps me relax a little. “Me too…”

“I wanted you to know me as Jensen, not,” he shakes his head, “Not Supernatural star Jensen Ackles.”

I sit down on the couch. “But that is part of who you are. But maybe…Maybe I could get to know both?”

He sits down on the other end of the couch leaving a space between us. “I’d like that.” A silence fall over the room. Wanting to ease the tension, he leans forward and opens the box. “So is this stuff any good? You were trying to give it away so?”

“It’s not Stewie’s, but yeah. I just…I know I’m a mess, I was trying to, I don’t know…seem like I was in control. I missed the last team meeting due to wedding stuff and so I didn’t know the rules had changed. I always used to bring home the leftovers.” I sigh, “There I go again, showing off how desperately poor I am.”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that.” He leans over and takes my hand again. “Please, don’t be ashamed of that. We all travel at our own pace, and there’s a lot of luck in who gets where in life. A few different decisions and I might still be there too.”

Getting emotional at his words, I pull away and change the subject. “You should try this.” I reach over the take out a peanut butter and apple strudel and tear it in half and hold out one half to Jensen. It’s not till after I take a bite that I realise about nut allergies. “Wait! You’re not allergic to nuts right?”

He shakes his head and smiles as he takes a big bite and chews slowly savouring the flavours. “Peanut…Cinnamon…Apple…” I nod. As he looks he me he chuckles. I wipe my face on my already soiled sleeve, the scent of old coffee fills my nose. He notices the look on my face and places his clean hand on my knee. “Hey, hey, stay with me. Right here.”

“I’m a mess…” Tears start to well up, and Jensen scoots over closer. “I wish you could see me how I was last night…before the third or fourth glass…During our first dance.”

“Hey, we were both a mess when we met. A bit of spilt coffee won’t scare me off. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

“It’s not just that…”

“Tell me then. Talk to me, that’s why I’m here. I promise I won’t leave…unless you want me to.”

Completely exhausted and unable to hold in my emotions as he rubs soft circles on my back, I tell him all the things I would generally vent to Stella about. I tell him about my recent mental health struggles, my failed auditions and how I have have one coming up in a few days, how the cafe’s going downhill, how I feel like such a failure. He listens intently without offering advice or telling me how I could do things differently. And when I finish talking, I surprisingly feel lighter. He wipes his thumbs along my wet cheeks.

His eyes glance down at my lips but he quickly flicks them back up to meet my gaze. “You’re not a mess. You’ve just been through a lot.” I want to make a self-depricating comment but it dies in my throat as I look at him. He puts some space between us but takes my hands softly. “You’ve been doing so much on your own for so long…But if you’ll let me I’d gladly help halve your load. Even if it’s just by giving you someone to unload on like this.”

“Jensen…”

As if he can sense me trying to pull away, he changes the subject. “Tell me more about this audition. You should be preparing for that.” I pull away to go and get the slides. When I sit back down he sees the title on the front page. “Sandy, right? Or are you more a Frenchie girl?”

“I mean, Sandy’s the dream right?”

“So, that makes me Danny Zuko. The T-Bird chasing his Pink Lady.” I shake my head as I blush and bite my lip. “Yeah, you got this. There’s Sandy, right there. Alright, monologue or are you gonna be reading with someone?”

“Monologue.”

“How do you feel about that? I prefer reading off someone, I can feed off their energy.”

“You never know who you’re gonna get paired up with though. At least with a monologue I can fully prepare.”

“Perfect then. You wanna practice?”

“In front of you? No.”

He stands up, holds his hand out to me and I take it, he pulls me up and leads me to where there’s a bit more space behind the couch. “Alright, you don’t have to read for me, but loosen up for me. You’re stiff and nervous, which is completely normal, but I want you to ace this one. Is it a standard three-part broadway audtion?”

I nod. “Monologue, song, choreo.”

He pulls out his phone. “What song?”

“Jensen…I…”

“Hey, it’s just you and me, just like last night on the dancefloor. Just focus on me. What song?”

“I haven’t picked yet…”

“Let’s loosen up with this one then,” he presses play and an upbeat tune begins to play as he places his phone on the back of the couch and takes both of my hands and makes me move with him. He looks straight into my eyes as he sings along with John Travolta. 

“I got chills, they're multiplying

And I'm losing control

'Cause the power you're supplying

It's electrifying”

Despite Olivia Newton John starting to sing her verse, I don’t. “Come on, Darlin’. You can do it. I know you know it.”

“I need a glass of wine for this.”

He shakes his head as he smiles at me and leads us into the next verse. His carefree nature calms me and I give myself over to the music. By the end of the song we’re both laughing and a little out of breath as he pulls me into his chest.

“See, I knew you knew it! You sing like that in the audition and you’re sure to get the part.”

I lean my head back to look up at him and he can’t help but tilt his head down and close the gap. As if by pure instinct, I kiss back. It’s short and sweet as he pulls back gently, but it’s been so long since I’ve kissed anyone, it feels like a lifetime.

He whispers against my lips, “Please, no more running…Say you’ll be mine.” I sober up quickly and pull back, he instantly loosens his grip so I can break free. He puts his hands up in surrender, “I’m sorry. Was that too fast? I didn’t…”

“It’s been a long time for me…I need you to know that. And certain fears don’t just disappear. I can’t just jump into it like you want me to. This won’t work if you want or need more now. I’m not ready. I refuse to string you along anymore. And I don’t expect you to wait for me.”

“I’m not in a rush. I just got caught up in the moment. We can take this as slow as you need to, I want to wait for you, but I don’t want you to disappear on me. Don’t run, don’t ghost me. If something’s not working for you, tell me.”

“Jensen, you don’t…”

“I know. I said I want to. I don’t mind keeping my hands to myself if that’s what you need. Once I start filming again, we’ll be back on the phone anyway, and I just know that our conversations have quickly become some of the best minutes of my day and I felt lost when they stopped. I mean, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to kiss you again, but I won’t, not unless you want me to.”

I grab Jensen’s phone and pause the soundtrack, I stare at his lockscreen, it’s a picture of him with a beautiful white mare. I run my thumb over the horse’s nose, and breathe out, “Snowball…”

He tilts his head, “What was that?”

I shake my head and hold his phone out to him. “The horse, she reminds me of mine. Snowball. She’s one of the things I miss most about Texas…I miss riding, I miss the outdoors, hiking…”

“It’s a great state. New York’s not so bad, but I’d love to do all of that with you.” He tentatively steps closer and holds his hand out between us. I place my hand in his. “You tell me what you’re okay with. We move at your pace.”

“Thank you. Really, thank you for understanding.”

“Any decent guy would. But you’re worth waiting for, I can tell. You overthink a lot, but in the few carefree moments when you finally let down your walls…” He looks into my eyes. “Can I…” I nod. He tilts his head but waits for me to close the gap. He doesn’t attempt to lead me or deepen it, he just follows my lead and signals until I pull back. “See, I knew I wanted to do that again.” As my eyes blink open I notice the clock on the wall just past his face.

“It’s late…” I take a step back and look around and notice the still-full box of pastries. “I’m so sorry, I’m such a terrible host. You had half a strudel and I never even offered you a drink.”

He pulls me back to him. “I didn’t ask either. You can drop the bricks and mortar, Darlin’. I’ve enjoyed tonight.”

“I’m sure you got more than you expected, with my whole meltdown and all. I’m so sor-.”

He cuts me off with a soft peck. “I wanted you to talk to me. I’m sorry it came in the form it did, I didn’t mean for you to get so upset. But we all get emotional sometimes, and that’s okay. And even when I have to go, I’ll only be a call or text away. I’m happy to be a shoulder.” 

“When? When are you-” I ask, but I’m cut off by his phone buzzing in his pocket. He tries to ignore it but I step back and lean against the back of the couch. “It’s probably your driver. You should get that.”

He gives me an apologetic smile before stepping away to answer. I use the time to put the pastries in the fridge and tidy up as I try not to eeves drop.

Once he hangs up, he comes over and pulls me back into his arms. “I fly out Tuesday morning. There’s a few things I need to do back in Austin before going back to Vancouver. Can I see you again tomorrow night?”

“I’ve gotta open the store in the morning. And I have to prepare for this audition…”

“I’m only here one more night. Please. I’ll help you prep or we can sit and watch movies. I don’t mean to push you, it’s just…”

“It could be months before we can be in the same room again, I get it. As long as you don’t mind staying cooped up here again?”

“Not at all. I’ll bring dinner.” He slowly leans in as he gauges my reaction. Just before our lips meet he softly says, “Clif’s waiting downstairs. I should go.”

“You should,” I whisper back before closing the gap.

He eventually forces himself to pull away. “Text me when you finish work?”

I nod, “I can do that.”

“Good night, Darlin’.”

“Good night, Jensen.”

I can tell he wants to make a teasing comment at my use of his name but holds himself back as he strides towards the door.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never, @deansimpalababy,

@winchesterwild78, @kr804573, @chriszgirl92, @smoothdogsgirl

[haihaihaitani]

Hi I love your work I especially really liked the manjiro them or me and bucket list which feels like a part 2 I was hoping to request a part 2 for them or me when reader decided they done playing second fiddle and leaves takes their things and leaves Manjiro a note saying they deserve better then him

Summary: Ending things is never easy but you need to do this. But you have to do this. It's for the best...

Pairing: Manjiro Sano X G/N!Reader

Genre: Angst Drabble

Word Count: 559

Warning: hurt no comfort

Masterlist

A/N 1: Thank you so much for the request! I'm sorry for how short this. But I hope you still like it! I tried my best!

A/N 2: Part Two of Them or Me. Highly recommend reading that one first.

Your heart was in your throat as you wrote the note. You didn't want to end things this way, with a note on the kitchen counter and your bags in the hall. You thought he would come home so the two of you could scream and fight for each other. But he wasn't coming home tonight. He probably wouldn't be home for another few days.

Before you made your decision, you cleaned the apartment from top to bottom. The bathroom was reorganized and the bedroom furniture was rearranged. There wasn't a single speck of dust on the many decorative baubles in the living room. Carpets were vacuumed and hardwood floors were mopped. Even the decorative china and silver he bought for special occasions that you never got to use were polished to a shine. The apartment looked like it had never been used, and it gave you a small fraction of satisfaction.

Another part of you hoped Mikey would see the impeccable cleaning as a sign that you were never there at all. You never existed to him. You were simply a figment of his imagination. And maybe, just maybe, you could pretend he never existed to you either. That you never spent hours agonizing over when he'd come back and if he would be wounded. That you didn't waste three years of your life trying desperately to get him to love you as much as you loved him. You could quite possibly convince yourself that this was for the best and that he never loved you in the first place, that you were just a passing fancy.

But deep down, in the part of you that you pushed away and tried to ignore, you knew you would never forget him. Mikey, he wasn't like the others. He wasn't forgettable. He was unforgettable. He had managed to get under your skin and make you feel alive with every kiss and every touch. And you were giving all of that up. You weren't sure you could stomach it. But you needed to try.

He made his choice.

Now it was time for you to make yours.

So, as you signed the letter with a kiss and a tear, you placed it right on the counter where he would see it. You made sure everything else was still arranged exactly as you wanted. You touched the petals on the flowers that you bought for the vase in the center of the kitchen table. You hoped that by the time he returned to the apartment, they would be dead and stink up the apartment with sickly sweet rot. Perhaps that would be another clue that you were never coming back.

When everything was done, and you could delay your departure no more, you headed for the front door. A voice compelled you to turn around and look at what you were leaving behind. Everything from the life you wanted, the life you craved so much to have with Mikey, was being forgotten at this very moment. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to cry, to scream, to lose yourself in your grief that everything you wanted was no longer yours.

But all you felt was numb.

This was how it needed to be now.

You weren't his anymore, and he wasn't yours.

Now it was his turn to finally realize that.

[contentment-of-cats]

Fun and Games

This has been kicking around in drafts for a few months. I was cleaning it out and...

With thanks to @shards-of-silver for getting me off my ass.

Upon promotion to senior lieutenants, there are perks.

Ensigns sleep a dozen to a barracks, junior lieutenants share a four-rack of bunks around a common area and share sanitary facilities. Senior officers of lieutenant commander or higher have their own private quarters increasing in size and amenities, and at flag rank a suite of rooms. But nothing beats the heady rush of getting your own room with a door that closes. Despite what the contractors say, those bunk partitions don't do squat to stop you from hearing every snore, fart, or wet dream from your fellow juniors. There's a corresponding increase in cubic storage along with the bigger room and one may trust the newly-minted senior loots to go a little crazy.

Thrawn as a new commodore aboard rearranged officers' quarters by duty station, so now all bridge officers are housed a literal thirty second run to the bridge or assigned six-man lifepod. Faro has always run a looser ship in terms of culture, and there are times when bridge officers' country is decorated for various holidays and observances. For example, observances of Longnight see small dishes of food and lanterns set out to guide and appease the spirits of those lost in the vastness of space. But today there is something new outside of Agral and Pyro's twofer.

A sign-up.

It's a datapad on a sticky at reading level with a stylus on a cord.

"Sign up for tabletop games night - Quests & Quarries, Pirates & Privateers, Hyperspace Hellscape, Ancient Lands Archaic Warfare, and other RP games coming to a horizontal surface near you!"

The list is growing fast.

A note above the hatch control says, "Game in progress. ENTER QUIETLY."

"Already the social hub," Faro mutters and then jumps out of her skin when Thrawn agrees with her. Even in boots, he moves almost silently. "Let a lass know, sir! You almost scared it out of me!"

Thrawn's shadow - Vanto - is not here or otherwise she'd have stood a better chance of hearing the approach. He is looking at the sign-up sheet and then at the door sign, then turns to her.

"These are not like Scrabble?"

Pyro's love of table games is legend. She even collects them.

"No, Commodore. These are, well, a kind of strategy game." Thrawn visibly brightens. His skin changes color, his pupils disappear as the nictitating membrane crosses them in a three-part blink. "Players create characters and ascend levels in different scenarios called dungeons. It's kind of like academy war-gaming, but more flexible and personalized."

"They will not mind if we enter and observe?"

"They'll snap to attention for a flag officer on deck or I'll have them cleaning the stormtroopers' urinals with ear swabs, but I do not think they'll object."

Faro taps the hatch open and as they step in Vanto barks, "Commodore on deck!"

The response is satisfyingly swift.

"Officers, as you were," Thrawn nods. "I do not wish to disturb the game in progress, only to observe."

Of course, the furniture is bolted to the deck, but there are an additional folding couch and two additional folding chairs added to the room and-

"Pyrondi, where did you get the holotop?" Karyn hasn't seen one in probably twenty years. This one replaces the low table normally issued to this accommodation, bolted down as per regs. "It's got to be a month's pay."

"I bought it at an antiquities shop on Coruscant. Lomar did the new innards, and then all of us wrote code." Us being - apparently - herself, Lomar, Hammerly, Barlin, Agral, Yve, and Carvia.

"Major Carvia, what is your part in this madhouse?" The man budges loots up the couch to make room for their captain and commodore in the armchairs. "Surely you're not a player?"

"I helped Pyro carry this up here and did the coding for groundpounder dungeons. No offense, but this bunch is all Navy." The major wags his finger at Pyro. "I will thank you, youngster, not to refer to items as 'antiquities' that I am old enough to have owned brand new."

"Everyone do a stretch, get some snacks, and we'll come back into it in fifteen?" Pyro asks and everyone agrees, getting up a little stiffly after hours gaming. "Sync and go."

Thrawn looks over the table, at first studying the current dungeon, but then with more interest at the leather-bound manuals of flimsi, and beautifully made sets of dice and other paraphernalia.

"Please, Lieutenant, explain." Thrawn settles in one of the armchairs, accepting one of Pyro's fruit teas and a packet of sweets.

"Well, first these are the handbooks for players and dungeon masters. These others are for aspects - beings, arms, character classes." Pyrondi takes a small bag and empties it into her hand. "These are my dice."

"Is a gambling chip counted as dice?" Thrawn looks intently. "These are thystine and aurum leaf, correct?"

"If a binary decision is needed, yes, it counts. They are thystine, but as you can see, every player has their set and aside from the chip they can have sets of seven to fifteen, it depends what games they play."

Vanto's set is doonium, which makes Thrawn smile fleetingly. Carvia's is some kind of bone or ivory. Agral's is synthetic fireopal. All sets are as individual as the player.

Oh, no. ART.

"And what about the crystal ball?" Karyn asks. It's a perfect sphere set on an elaborate base.

"Oh, that's a toy I picked up from a junk dealer. He said it didn't work, but when you ask it a yes-or-no question it gives you a nonsensical answer. Watch. Is the mess going to serve hash for firstmeal again?"

The sphere roils with smoke and then shows a wavering answer in its center.

Better not tell you now.

"See? It gives positive, negative, or non-committal answers. To be fair, I don't want to know if we're having hash again."

The players filter back in and take their places as Thrawn is given a rough crash course in play. Pyrondi looks around, sets up a triptych screen to hide her materials and plans, and then asks if everyone is ready. Snacks and drinks to hand, all affirm and the game resumes. Karyn watches her superior as he watches the game with eyes bright. Pyro is a force of chaos and order, handling players firmly but also throwing wild situations at them. The dice can't be rigged or fooled on a dice pad, holding them firm.

Thrawn reminds his officers that night phase is coming, and they have watch coming up. The party breaks up with others putting the room back to order and bidding good rest.

"If you do not mind, Lieutenant, Captain Faro and I will join for the next game."

"Please do, sir. The more the merrier."

Karyn almost groans but holds it in.

"As I remember, you said the same thing before you wiped the walls with me at Scrabble."

Pyro only grins. "Good rest, sirs."

[cyberbeast99]

Werewolf HRT First Moon: Part 2

Here's the next part of my Werewolf HRT story! Hope you guys enjoy! (no art this time qwq)

“AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

The animal cry resonates through the night as I revel in my new form. I’m overwhelmed by the sheer euphoria. Of how right this feels. I stand there unmoving, listening to the echoing howl fade away with my new hypersensitive ears. I hear a whimper from the corner of the room. Candy’s huddled there, eyes wide, staring at me.

“Ho-ly shit. Uhhh, Eric?  You still in there?”

 I can hear her panicked heartbeat, and smell her apple shampoo, sour sweat, and another odor that I’m able to recognize as the scent of fear.

Oh. My. God.

I open my mouth to reassure her but my words get caught at the back of my throat and come out as a choked inhuman snarl. Candy shrinks further into the wall. Instead of verbal support, I crouch down next to her and place my hairy paw gently on her back. After a bit, she calms down, and rests her head against the thick fur on my chest.

“Wow, you’re so soft!”

I make another attempt at speech and succeed, albeit in a deep guttural growl so different from my normal whiny voice.

“Crazy, right?”

She looks at me, eyes full of wonder. “I had my doubts, but… wow. Just wow. This cannot be real.”

“Did it hurt?” she inquires.

“It was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced. Like my whole body was on fire. I had no idea it was gonna hurt that much.”

“Actually, I think it should have hurt a lot worse,” she says 

“At the speed that you just changed, every single cell in your body rearranging as fast as they did, it shouldn’t even be possible! The energy expended just from friction should have burnt you up!”

Great, she’s nerding out again. As she begins to list off every reason why it’s scientifically impossible, I tune her out and begin to notice a ton of other noises. Our heartbeats, our breathing, but also the sound of crickets, the tiny footfalls of what I assume to be a raccoon or a rabbit outside, and this incredibly irritating high-pitched whine that I can’t place. I remember Grace talking about how she had to unplug every electronic device in her house because the noise was driving her crazy, and I determine that what I’m hearing is the buzz of electricity.

 I stand back up, still feeling as if I’m in a trance. I pad down the hall, enjoying the sound of my claws clicking on the floorboards and the sensation of my tail swishing behind me. I fumble with the bathroom doorknob, wrench it open, and frown. The bathroom, painted sea green, is now completely gray. 

Huh. Guess I’m colour-blind.

I stare at myself in the mirror.  Run my paws through the fur on my rawboned lupine arms. Feel the rippling muscles on my torso. Gently tug on my tail. Touch my wet canine nose. My irises have enlarged and turned a deep amber colour. I open my mouth and run my pink tongue along my sharp, yellowish animal teeth. Over my black wolf lips.

Yes!

YES!

Suddenly I’m overcome with claustrophobia. I need fresh air, and badly. “I’m going outside.” I say. Candy looks nervous, but she follows me nonetheless. The second I step outside, I’m barraged by another sensation overload, this time from the trash cans lined up along the street. The stench of garbage fills my nostrils and it’s…  not unpleasant. I note that I seem to perceive scents differently as a werewolf. The odour of rotting meat in particular is appealing and appetizing, serving to fuel the wild hunger in my gut.

In the cool night air, I feel clean. The breeze feels great on my hot wolf fur. I have this need to move, to run and run, give into the primal urges in this body and disappear into the forest like the beast that I am. But the majority of my brain is still too self conscious to do that yet, especially with Candy here. I notice that she’s still scared of me, and I need to show her that I mean her no harm. 

Also, I need to do something about this hunger. 

“Wanna get some food?” I inquire. She nods and reaches for her keys. I’ve never gotten my license. I’m absolutely terrified of losing focus while driving and hurting someone. I hop into the passenger seat, and she pulls out of the driveway. We drive to a Wendy’s a kilometer away. The dining room is closed, so we head to the drive thru. I’m absolutely starving at this point, so we order a ton of burgers. The clerk gives me a really weird look, but I’m way too hungry to care. By the time Candy pulls into my driveway, I’ve wolfed down five burgers and I’m halfway through a sixth. Candy shuts down the car and turns to me.

“Eric?” “Yeah?” I mumble through a mouthful of hamburger. Ketchup and hot grease dribble onto my furry chest.

“You know those dreams I’ve been having about Krystal?” 

“Your fursona?” I inquire.

“Eric, I’ve been thinking a lot and I’ve discovered she’s more than my fursona.” Candy says seriously.

“I’ve decided to book an appointment with Dr. Erian and see if he can give me some sort of rabbit-lion HRT. I was skeptical, but after what I’ve seen tonight, I think it’s possible” says Candy. “But I’m doing this by the book. That means I’m going through the year of living as my preferred species. I also talked with Grace, and we’re wondering if you wanted to help us set up a support group. We’ve found a few other alterhumans who want to join.” “Really?” I ask? She nods. “I like that very much,” I say.

Hey guys, Cyber here! As you might know from @vy-canis-melodis's comic, me, her, @candyrocks03, @gracewolfing, and @hyacinthdoll1315 are working on a collab! I'm super excited for this and I hope you guys are too! Stay tuned for the next pawesome adventure!

[lucky-bucky-boy]

Arrogance Incarnate

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Summary: Loki and you don’t get along, at all. It’s infuriating and frustrating, except in the few moments where it’s pure bliss.  Inspired by @lokisgoodgirl series Hostile F*cks that I stumbled upon a few days ago.

Word Count: 2859

Warnings: Slight angst, smut, dom/sub elements, angry fuck, pet names, open-ended ending

A/N: This post does not have any of my taglist added as my taglist is now 2 years outdated. I hope you all enjoy this piece as I certainly enjoyed writing again. Let me know what y’all think!

This is set as if everything is happy and okay, everyone lives in the compound together. Also, inspired by @lokisgoodgirl​ Hostile F*cks series that I stumbled upon the other day!

I do not own these characters. Do NOT repost my writing and/or fics anywhere without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed and highly appreciated!

No one really comprehended how it got like this, some days it was better not to ask and just ignore it. It didn't start out this way, quite the opposite as a matter of fact; all warm welcomes and soft smiles inevitably turned into agitated sighs and annoyed eye rolls. 

You couldn't help it though. He had become absolutely infuriating; too sure of himself, too cocky, too arrogant… Too Loki. 

Nat sat beside you at the kitchen island, finishing up her food as the time neared for her to leave. Majority of the team had been assigned a mission, they wouldn't be gone for long - only 2 or 3 days - but it required a lot of manpower to assure no one got hurt. You'd been on the last few big missions so Tony let you sit this one out, figuring you'd enjoy some peace and quiet.  

But peace and quiet was the last thing you would get. Since this mission requires the most finesse, the assurance that no one would make an abrupt move, that no one would steer away from the plan, Loki had also been chosen to sit this one out. 

"I really hope you guys get back sooner rather than later," you huffed, picking at the last bit of the fruit in your bowl. 

Nat chuckled softly, shaking her head at your complaints, "Try not to kill each other while we're gone. Spiderboy is hanging back too if you need someone to occupy you."

You rolled your eyes, standing up to clean up your dishes and taking hers with you, "Peter is an MIT student, has to travel between here and Boston every 4 weeks, has a girlfriend, is working on suit upgrades, and has friends in the city he hasn't seen in months. I doubt I'm the first person on his list of people to 'occupy'."

Nat followed you, rubbing her hand along your back as you stood at the sink cleaning the dishes. "Well, take yourself out, or have a movie night. Maybe rearrange your room like you've been talking bout. Or find a good lay." She teased at the end. 

You shook your head, turning the water off and shaking your hands of the water, "Yeah yeah, I know. But I'd rather spend my time sitting in the same room as you, playing on my switch, and bitching about the same shit over and over. But I'll live. You, however, need to get going before Steve decides to come searching for you."

She sighed, an apologetic look spreading across her features. "I know. But, we're still on for that brunch and spa spot next week. I'll text you updates, okay?" 

You nodded, watching as she turned and made her way to the meeting room for debriefing. 

This was going to be a long few days. 

You started making your way to your room, intending to grab a book then head out to sit by the pool. But you didn't make it far, hearing Thor's booming voice echoing off the walls. You stopped, hating yourself immediately for being interested in the conversation, but nonetheless you stayed out of sight. 

"Be nice to her, brother. She was the only one kind to you when we arrived. Surely, you must appreciate that enough to think about your actions."

Loki's sigh was sharp and loud, "For the last time, Thor, how I treat our fellow colleagues," there was a tinge of disgust in his voice that turned your face sour at hearing it, "has very little to do with you. Besides, this back and forth between (Y/N) was started by her. For being the one who was kindest to me, she's the only one now who is constantly irritated by my very presence."

It was true. You hated to admit it, but every word was true. Shaking your head, you kept moving, trying you best to make it seem like you hadn't been listening in. 

When Thor and Loki had decided to make Asgard their new home, things were rough. Loki's history with Earth made it so that S.H.I.E.L.D required them to live with the Avengers for two years. Any trips he made outside the compound had to be supervised for the first 6 months, then slowly he could gain trust. 

Their arrival was almost a year ago. You had heard the many stories of Loki, mostly bad with Thor sprinkling in some good. It became glaringly obvious to you that something had to be happening at the time the others had met him, that pieces of information were missing for you to understand fully why Loki attacked New York. Sure, you didn't want to immediately dismiss the concerns, but you wanted him to feel like he had someone there who didn't hate him. 

And it did begin that way, a friendly introduction, showing him books, introducing him to movies and songs. There were countless times in the beginning where Loki and you were almost inseparable. 

Then the missions started, and irritation started. He was too brazen, making bold moves without discussion. More than once he had put you in a predicament where you could have gotten hurt. There was this one mission in particular, you were undercover in a club trying to collect information, Loki was your watch - the person you had been talking to had gotten a little too close, nothing you weren't expecting, but Loki apparently felt it was too much. The two of you had to rush out after Loki left the guy with a broken nose. 

Sure, it became frustrating to work on missions with him, but it didn't become bad at home until after he was able to leave the compound on his own. 

One night, admittedly after too many glasses of wine, you had made your way to Loki's room with the full intention of trying to flirt your way into a date with him. He was tall, stunningly gorgeous, playful, and caring. You had spent a lot of time with him, movie nights that kept you up late, stories being passed back and forth. But just as you were about to knock on his door, there was a loud, high pitched, nasally moan of his name. It was a voice you didn't recognize, your blood running instantly cold as your hand hovered over the door.

It was that moment that things turned bad. You had made an backhanded remark the next day, and Loki being Loki reciprocated. Every day another verbal dagger thrown until the two of you couldn't be in the same room together. 

Tony had even put you two on an easy mission together, hoping that somehow you two would have it out and things would improve, but that didn't work. It just made things worse. 

You did have it out though. The first times of many you would truly have it out with Loki. No one had noticed or caught on, not that either of you were aware of. You truly couldn't stand him anymore unless he was seated to the hilt in you, or if his piercing eyes were darkening between your thighs, or his hands roaming every inch of your body. 

How would anyone catch on? Outside of your bedroom, the two of you barely even spared a glance to each other and the ones you did were out of sheer agitation. No lingering words or flirty smiles. And the only time you found him in your bed was after weeks of build up from bickering and arguing. 

You closed your door behind you, sighing deeply to try to put your roaming thoughts at bay. This was truly going to be a long few days. 

The weather couldn't have been better, but the moment you stepped outside the desire to be anywhere but on a bed or couch went out the door. You stood there for a moment, taking in the warmth of the sunshine and the soft breeze of air that allowed a reprieve from the heat. The jets of the teams leaving soared overhead. With yet another sigh you turned on your heels, heading back inside. 

Opting to head back to your room, you passed the living quarters again where Loki had taken home for the day. Your footsteps passing brought his attention from the book in his hands, watching with slight amusement as you moved through the compound. 

"Having troubles making up your mind?" He called to you. 

Another huff and roll of the eyes, but you kept moving, ignoring the God's taunt. 

You hadn't been in your room long before the door flew open, startling you. Loki stood there, annoyance written on his face. "No one else is here, so must you continue to pretend to hate me to my core?"

Words left you, unsure of what to say or how to feel. This was bold of him, he'd hadn't come to your room without warning before, and truly you did expect to just ignore each others existence for the next few days. 

"I asked you a question." He let himself in, shutting the door behind him as he stalked his way to stand above you at the end of the bed. 

"Pretend?" You asked, voice soft and throat dried. You hated the effect he could have on you - the smell of him, of leather, musk, and mint overwhelming your senses. 

"Are you saying you're not pretending?" His eyebrows were raised. 

You huffed, rising from your sitting position to your knees. "Loki, I can assure you, that pretending would be much less exhausting."

"Darling, don't act like there isn't a part of you that wants me." You swallowed hard, staring up at him. Of course you wanted him, you wanted him in more ways than you would admit. Loki stared back, "If you're not pretending, then why do you hate me?" His voice was almost teasing. 

"You're arrogant. You're arrogant to the point that you are blinded by it." You stated.

"That's it? Did the little pet get her feelings hurt by something I said? Or was it something I did?" He teased, punctuating the end of his sentence by carding his hands through your hair and tugging tightly. 

"I am the God of Mischief after all, darling. You truly didn't think that I wouldn't be a little unhinged, did you?" He tugged your hair back, forcing a gasp out of you as he started to move you to a lying position, him hovering over top of you, "We both know there's a part of you that still loves it. If you didn't, you wouldn't have your legs wrapped around my waist right now, you wouldn't moan my name so wantonly, you wouldn't even let me anywhere near your pretty little pussy." 

Loki used his leverage of his hand in your hair to turn your head, kissing at the sensitive skin of your neck. "Admit it," he said between kisses, "admit you want me, darling."

A chill ran down your spine. You hated it, the second he was on top of you, you had instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, your hands now carding in his hair. You were already getting wet, trying your best to hold back any whines or moans. 

Loki didn't like you ignoring him. He bit down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, sucking hard and undoubtedly leaving a mark. He pulled back, "if you want me to satisfy you, you need to admit it."

His hand left your hair, both of them moving to roam across your body. The moved under your shift, cold fingers causing goosebumps to spread across your skin. He didn't say anything as he continued on, hands moving to cups your breasts, thumbs rubbing over your nipples through the fabric of your bra. 

He was going to tease until you admitted it. Loki's hips rocked slowly against you, relishing in listening to you whine and whimper, your own hips trying to run against him, your core getting hot with need. His lips continued their assault on your neck, careful not to leave any marks too high up. 

Suddenly, your shirt was gone, Loki using it magic to take it off. His mouth move to your shoulder, leaving an array of purple and blue there, making his way further down and nipping at the top of your chest. 

"Please," you whined, pulling at his hair, "Please Loki."

He chuckled against your skin, hands snaking behind you to undo your bra, taking notice of the goosebumps thay spread across your skin from the feel of his hands on you. "Admit you want it. You know what you have to say."

You whined, squirming as he pulled up some to discard your bra. Immediately, his mouth attached to your nipple, flicking and sucking the sensitive bud as his hand moved to toy with the other one. He switched back and forth, your moans like music to his ears. 

Moans were spewing out of you, hips rutting harder and fast. "Damn it, Loki, stop the teasing and just fuck me if that's what you came in here to do." You managed to choke out. 

Loki pulled away from your chest, both hands playing with your nipples now. "I came here to teach you a lesson. Now, admit you want it." 

"I want it," you finally blurted out, feeling like you were going crazy with need. "I want you, Loki. Please just fuck me."

"Good girl," suddenly, all of your clothes were gone. He sat back on his legs, looking down at you for a few moments. "Heavens, you're still just as ravishing to look at."

His were gone now as well and he leaned back down, capturing your lips in his. It happened so quickly, him moving your calves to his shoulders, lining his cock up with your core, pushing in slowly as your lips moved against each other feverishly. 

Loki pushed himself all the way in, staying still once he was fully seated, watching the look of ecstasy on your face, eyes screwed shut and mouth slightly agape. It was a look he would never get tired of. 

He waited until you looked up at him to pull out and shove himself back in, setting a pace that rattled you inside out. He moved one of your legs down to his waist, angling his hips and moving a hand to rub your clit. 

Loud moans fell from you, echoing off the walls and sounding like songs in his ears. He kept at it, feeling your walls spasm, watching you feeling at him. 

A wave of confidence ran through you, moving your other leg back down to his waist, you sat up as best as you could, carding a hand through his hair and pulling him back down to kiss him. You move your lips to his neck, making sure his would match yours in color. Hands moving along his lean body. 

Pressure began to build, his relentless pursuit of both your high starting to become successful. Your free hand moved to his back, scratching against the pale expanse of skin and leaving bright red marks in your wake. 

Suddenly, a hand was gripping your chin, forcing you to look him in the eye, "you're being so good for me for someone who hates me." A chill ran up your spine, the pressure in your core ready to flood and take over, "I can feel you squeezing my cock, cum for me, darling. Be my good girl and cum for me."

Between his blissfully sinful words and the rutting of his hips against yours, you toppled over the edge, immediately securing your mouth to his shoulder and biting down to muffle your loud moans. The pain spurred him on, his thrusts becoming erratic as he neared his own high. Loki came, painting your insides white as he collapsed on top of you, careful not to crush you too much with his weight as he took deep breaths, both of your hearts racing. 

There was a pleasant quiet that fell between the two of you, something that hadn't happened before. It was always finished and get gone as quickly as possible, but this time he laid there for a couple of minutes, both of you taking in the bliss of not being at each other's throat. 

Loki inevitably pulled out of you, taking the time to get up and get a rag from your connected bathroom. He brought it over, slightly damp, wiping the dried saliva from his own neck before handing it to you so you could clean yourself up some. As you did, he grabbed his clothes instead of using his magic to put them back on. 

Loki slipped his pants on, holding the rest of his clothes in his hand as he made his way to the door. With his hand on the knob, he turned to look at you, an almost tired expression on his face.

"When you have decided you're done pretending to hate me, let me know." And with that he walked out, leaving you there to contemplate your every emotion.

[bomberqueen17]

my personal hell

LOL ok so. I've been in buffalo for a week now. And i bought a car, which wasn't nothing. But I've had like. a small to-do list. We had every window in the house replaced (except for one, hilariously, which will remain as a testament to the original state of the house; it was enclosed by a three-season porch and so is a window from an interior room to an, effectively, seasonally, interior room, so we opted not to change it. we do open it in the summer. the cat loves it.) so all of the furniture was stacked against interior walls and, the house being from 1950 and having plaster walls, everything was covered in a fine layer of plaster dust. so i was gonna clean up and then put the furniture back. Simple, right? Dust things, shove things. No problem.

But like. there were shelves from the bathroom stacked in the office and I realized the contents of the shelves were untouched dusty things we'd forgotten about, so I took everything off those shelves first. Had to get those sorted, and back into the bathroom, before we could rearrange the office furniture, yeah? So I sat down Saturday morning to start on that, so we could rearrange the office furniture in the afternoon.

uh it's Wednesday my dudes, and I'm still working on that. It turns out there were depths of despair there and in the linen closet, things untouched for a decade, silted-in. I found jewelry I took off while traveling in 2012 and left in the travel toiletries organizer, and then have spent a decade looking for and pining after and trying unsuccessfully to replace. I found a very sentimental ring in a ziploc baggie in a box, lost for at least nine years. I found countless cosmetics and toiletries that dated back as far as 1998. (I haven't quite thown out that lipstick I used to wear clubbing and for sloppy lesbian makeouts in bathrooms in Edinburgh. It's no good anymore and it has to go, but. Oh man. That was this lifetime and that was me. Really???? I never did figure out how to wear lipstick without it looking really stupid after the first drink/kiss etc, I don't think there's actually a trick I just think everyone else is more patient with reapplications than my ronald mcdonald ass.)

I went out yesterday, big outing in my new car, and bought new storage bins, hopefully to corral and sort things. But it turns out my personal brain holes are myriad and vast and deep when it comes specifically to sorting and categorizing items. It's tiny decisions I simply lack the capacity to make. Every single item I pull out and try to sort into a pile and I wind up with not discrete piles of categories, but rather a single flat layer across the entire surface, with each object in its own pile because I do not know how to sort it.

And I know what happens if I sort things into a cute storage basket: it will sit there, untouched, until some calamity makes me haul the entire thing out and upend it.

So, I don't really know what to do, and I have achieved nothing else of note in the last four days. I have made an unholy mess of the office, where the furniture is still stacked, unusable, against the non-window wall, and now the floor is covered in shit. I've hauled out two big trashbags (ok, one big and one small trashbag) of things that are unequivocally expired and unusable, things I well-meaningly filed in the memory hole in 2012 or so when I bought that shelf and then never touched again, things I've just learned to do without, forgetting I owned them.

So anyway I'll probably die here, RIP.

But at least I got to use the nifty cargo net that came with my new car to hold the overpriced clear plastic storage bins I bought at TJ Maxx in place in the trunk of my beautiful new car, so that's now going to get filed and never used again but at least I used it once. It's so fancy! Bye.

[theycallmebecca]

Oh a ficlet request with Steve Rogers and it’s super domestic and fluffy. But Steve and Reader go shopping and it’s just their regular run and she sees something that she’s sure Steve needs a refill of (like his favorite cereal or coffee or even soap), so she just goes “You’re almost out of (x thing)”, puts it in the cart and keeps walking, and Steve just stares at her and in that moment he realizes he’s in love. Just by doing something mundane. But he’s like stuck/stopped walking so reader stops and goes “what?”

Hey @phoenix-rising-starbird-one thanks for this request! Since your prompt was so specific, there wasn't really a low of room for me to play with it... however, I took the general idea of reader buying something that Steve needed without him asking, and ran with that. I hope you like it!

This Memorial Day weekend, I'm accepting prompts. The information (and links to stories written for it) are in this post.

Title: Whole Heart

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Rating: PG

Warnings: n/a

Disclaimer: This work of fiction is not to be reposted, used or translated without my permission.

Usage Disclaimer: This work is for fans only. This author does not give permission for it to be shared, spoken of, referred to in any public manner (podcast, tv, online, etc.) that wants to either make a celebrity uncomfortable, mock fan fiction/fandom in any way, or the author themselves. Requests can be made, but it is unlikely the author will change their mind. If no response is given to a request then the answer is a solid no, not interested and the work cannot be shared, spoken of or even referred to, regardless of the manner or context. 

Steve was waiting on the front steps when you pulled your car into the driveway.

Turning the car off, you unlocked the door and popped the trunk, not at all surprised when he opened the door for you.

“Sorry about this morning,” he said, holding his hand out to you.

The two of you had been living together for a couple of months and your Saturday mornings had become a date of sorts where the two got coffee and did the weekly shopping together. This morning, however, he’d gotten a call from work and had had to go in.

“It’s ok,” you assured him, remembering at the last second that you had gotten him a coffee, too. It was cold now, you knew, but it was plain black coffee and he wasn’t against reheating it in the microwave.

His face brightened when he saw the cup and he leaned in and gave you a kiss in thanks.

“You take that inside,” he said, gesturing to the coffee. “I’ll bring the groceries in.”

Knowing it was pointless to argue, you carried the coffee inside with him following a moment later, the multiple bags looking weightless in his hands.

He set the bags down on the counter and the two of you started to unload them. Setting up a tag team, of sorts, when it came to putting things in the fridge or in the pantry.

“How did you…”

Hearing his voice taper off, you turned from where you were rearranging the fridge and found him staring down at the bottle of body wash in his hands.

“What?” you asked, confused at his bafflement. “You were almost out, so I got you more.”

“But it wasn’t on the list,” he said, slowly.

The two of you kept a shared grocery list during the week, but personal items weren’t on the list because you each had your own lists.

“I got you more shaving cream, too,” you said, gesturing to another bag.

He gaped at you.

He’d warned you when you’d first moved in that he had been on his own for a very long time and that he didn’t expect you to take care of him or clean up after him. “I want a partner not a parent,” he’d stated.

Setting the bottle of soap down, he made his way to you and turned you around to look at him, closing the fridge door in the same motion.

“Have I told you how amazing you are?” he asked, his eyes looking deep into yours.

“Not this morning,” you replied, coyly.

“You’re amazing,” he stated, his hand caressing your chin. “I don’t always understand why you chose me, but I am entirely grateful you did because I love you with my whole heart.”

“I chose you because I love you with my whole heart, too,” you told him. 

[huellitaa]

☀️🎀 princess project: day 15!

──★ ˙ ̟🎀 sunday 9.6.24

🗒🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ today's to do!

☀️ mental

journalled!

bedrotted in the morning

planned out next week

cleared out my to do list

figure out what the heck i'm gonna do with myself

🎀 physical

showered ♡

ate super healthy

hot girl walked w my dad to town

did pilates for the first time in ages for 30 minutes ♡

skincare, haircare, brushed teeth and made up for yesterday

mini fashion show and admired myself for three hours ♡

🧁 academic

finished all my overdue assignments

planned out next school week ♡

looked online for a cute padlock for a locker ♡

updated school notion

💬 social

finally turnt my phone off of don't disturb !! ♡

dramatic return to girl tumblr hi guys ily

changed all my pfps on all my socials

made bracelets for my NEW friends ♡

deleted old pictures and videos of me and my ex friends

made a playlist of videos and interviews to watch to become a People Person™ and begin to stop being shy and awkward (🎀🗒 goals: social skills!)

responded to texts and emails !!

🎀 leisure

sung sabrina carpenter in my room for ages ♡

tidied up, sweeped and cleaned like fucking cinderella (🎀🗒 goals: productivity!)

created a new bracelet batch & cut up old ones i don't like anymore or made ages ago or with my ex frienlikds

cleaned through all of my clothes and wardrobe!

got my glasses fixed AGAIN

decorated above my bed to build THE ultimate girlblogger den ♡

played royale high for hours again.............

screamed over dainsleif because i need him pregnant right now

created a gaming shelf, beauty shelf and rearranged a little

finished bee's record player for this month and some girlblog posts! ♡

began my full summer notion revamp

added to my music section bcz i'm totally sane

forced my brother to let me play genshin on his ps4 ♡

all my love! 💗💬🎀

[imagines-babes]

Easy (Foolish)

Hello sorry for not posting on Sunday but hey here a new story. Anyways today story is short(560words) it's about foolish. He said I believe that sometimes he builds and once he is done with streaming and in bed he would think about his builds. Which I think that is true. Today song is just a cozy song, 'Easy' by Mac Ayres. I do hope you enjoy. And I think the next one will be about Wilbur so till later.

Foolish list Masterlist

**********

It late at night, Foolish just ended his stream of Valo matches. Winning all except 2. My guess that was all he did today on stream. He laid next to me. While I say putting my phone on the side of me. Slowly plays with his hair. He wrap his arm around my hips taking a breath.

"What do you think of the build?" At first I didn't know what he meant till I look at him. "Of the house? I mean you picked a good house," I started to look around his room, "probably need to rearrange and clean but it's nice." That when he started laughing nothing like his famous laugh just a short giggle. I was just confused on what or why he was laughing. "No no y/n I meant In Minecraft," my facial expressions changed to an 'ahh' moment. Then that made his short giggle to his famous laugh. 

He started to hold his stomach catching his breath slowly. "I mean if the ship that I was making today on hardcore?" All I did was made o around my mouth giving a nod. "Now I get it. Well what are you making it out of? Oak, Birch, Spruce-," he stopped my sentence. "Making it out of Spruce right now I think it looks good but then maybe it would've been better with Dark oak or-" I shake my head no. "Don't do that." Foolish look at me with a puzzle face. "Don't think about it all night you tend to do that. Think about builds. Wondering if it's the right color or to change the wood. We don't need another chandelier moment." I gave him a laugh remembering the memory.

Foolish was doing the mansion in Manchester while he started to shout at the computer. Going upstairs to the room saying him to his family on the way. Opening the door he saw mt handing him food, "what are you yelling about now?" I look at his monitor seeing 'The Chandelier.' "I did it. i finished the chandelier Y/n. I also did more to the outside man you should've saw it earlier all of it was just scaffolding everywhere." Then after he started to show me around with his friend,Ranboo. We both said our hellos. Than he started to ramble on about Spruce or Birch with the interior while his chat goes on saying hi while I wave. Then foolish started to go crazy all over everything. Looking for missing block. He started to ask chat where he was but to only fall to the ground. He rushed up talking quickly till he found the missing spot. I started rub his back with Ranboo giving him a grass block. Slowly he came back from insanity. Looking down at him to smile. That night he started to ramble again taking in breaths as I smile.

"That damn chandelier and that mansion" he say, "but I won't lose my mind this time and if I do I know that I will have you to calm me down." He leans up kissing my lips placing a hand on my cheek. "And if I do loose my mind I can also just ramble." With that I nod getting up turning off the lights. He starts to get close to me. Putting his hands over me. Letting the night end our day.

[lunapwrites]

An example of house-cleaning with ADHD.

My partner has been on my ass for at least the last 3 years to clear out the upstairs nook. As for why he is not assisting with this endeavor instead: it's 100% my stuff and 100% my space. I don't touch the basement. He doesn't touch the nook. Them's the rules.

But, well, you know, executive dysfunction and all that.

So fast forward to this year, with all the stuff happening and particularly Bean. And there's been a lot of "yes, I know I need to get it cleaned out" because we need the space and we also need to replace the windows and we can't get to them but me being me I have dragged my feet on it, because I didn't need to do it today.

Recently, though, I've been getting a little anxious about time - kinda hard to be as blind to it when you've got very visible proof that time is not only passing, but running out. So last week I finally dug through all my art supplies and figured out what I was and wasn't going to use, and gave away all the stuff I knew wasn't in my wheelhouse.

And just like that, there was an item checked off my list - one less barrier to entry.

Today, I woke up with a drive to clean, and if there's one thing you need to know about executive functioning disorders, it's that when the siren song of productivity finally calls us, we MUST drop everything immediately and dance to that demented little tune. So here I am, 12 hours later, exhausted and still only 80% done.

But god damn what an 80% that was. Bookshelves rearranged. Art supplies organized. Tables removed. Tea collection tamed.

Anyway, I still need to put all the books away that are going in storage but the important thing - the most important thing - is that the windows in both the computer room and the nook are now accessible, and able to be replaced so that the top floor of the house can be habitable in the summer months lol. Kind of important, considering Bean's room is up here. And also a lot of the stuff that was taking up space in Bean's room is being moved out, which means we can start properly setting it up. Nice little cascade effect.

I'm definitely gonna sleep like a rock tonight though, lol.

[slavicafire]

Saw your Saturday is for cleaning post. While your saturday was about cleaning up your list of followers, mine was about the more literal cleaning.

I cleaned the dust off my plants, washed the floors, burned some incense, cleaned and rearranged my altar (the ancestors were pissed for letting it get dusty for sure) and dusted the hell out of my shelves of knicknacks.

Among my trinkets I had found a statue of Saint Mary that I had completely forgotten about and it made me think of you and your occasional art posts of the saints. As a small lad of 12 years old, I accidentally decapitated her when I dropped the statue to the floor (as well as broke off her legs). While it was tragic back then it is quite amusing to me now.

That was probably one of the first signs I got that the Christian god did not care about what I did and did not claim me. It is funny that it took me 6 more years to find the old gods yet I was already a heathen at the age of 12, breaking heads of saints.

Now the statue is free of dust and sitting on the top shelf, turned around so that she cannot see the sin I commit inside my room. She belonged to my great grandmother so I feel like if I keep it in my room, the ancestors can still look over me, even if we do not share the same faith anymore. I am sure that my catholic family rolled in their graves when the breaking of the neck was committed and that the pagan ancestors cheered from theirs.

Hope your Saturday was filled with surprises as well and that you soon recieve a much needed sunny autumn day.

Slava!

ah, they should not roll in their graves all that much - after all, what's more catholic than a good old decapitation! always in style.

is she superglued back to her old glory after the adventure you bestowed upon her all those years ago? we've had one christ fly off his cross a couple years back at the house of a relative - for the lack of good glue, he received an additional nail to the ones he already possessed, quite unceremoniously through the abdomen. the implications of this manner of fixing were, unfortunately, entirely lost on my family. and I think it was friday, too!

one thing that has to be said about the pagan slavs of old is that they sure loved a good god statue. along with hitting or drowning or pelting it with turnips should the given god not deliver what was expected of them! so they might have cheered indeed.

[imsimplyagirlinterrupted]

Grief finds me in my bedroom at 3:47 pm on a sunny afternoon,

It appears in the form of a Zillow listing,

Through pictures of a house I can now only visit in my dreams,

I see my childhood home,

But it's not my childhood home,

it has been gutted,

remodeled,

rearranged,

My print on that house has been scrubbed clean,

The doorway where me and my brother's names were written together for the last time is painted over,

The measurements next to the names have long since changed,

Yet I can still smell my father's cooking from the kitchen,

I can still hear my older brothers arguing in the next room over,

I can still feel my cat, long since gone, rub up against my ankles,

I can almost brush my fingertips over the memories of my childhood,

but the moment I try to touch them, they dissappear,

And I'm brought back to my grief

[we-are-the-memers-mr]

neurodivergent-friendly advice on forming habits for creatives (& anyone, really) - with photos

Habits marked with ⭐ are the most important ones, imo.

A good way to build habits that you don't read in books is to make the habit desirable. You can look up the other methods (Atomic Habits and other similar books are great).

But for this one, if you're anything like my neurodivergent mentally ill butt you need things to be desirable in some way to get you to do them.

So what does desirability mean?

It means that it makes you want to do it, with energy and enthusiasm! Or at least not hate the task and yourself and everyone and everything! Something desirable for a habit may include:

Organized

Goblin tools link - https://goblin.tools

The best way to ensure you can perform a habit is to make it EASY. The best way to make it easy is to be organized. Yes this is difficult but you'll get better over time and it'll pay off with dividends of you being very likely to Do The Thing (tm) if you combine this with a few other things on this list (plus the normal habit formation stuff, but honestly loving what you do will make you way more likely to do it than tying it to another habit!).

⭐Put it somewhere easy to access that you can get to EASILY every day, preferably something you already have a habit of going to, e.g. your desk or your lounge room.

⭐Organize your digital files! Here's an example:

^ art (main folder)

^^ (subfolder, 1 folder deep) anatomy

^^^ (subfolder, 2 folders deep) female anatomy

^^^^ (subfolder, 3 folders deep) female torso...

^^^ (subfolder, 2 folders deep) male anatomy

^^^^ (subfolder, 3 folders deep) male torso...

Etc, etc.

Tl;dr (non technical speak): make a folder within a folder for each aspect of your project/task.

📂Every once in a while (can be weekly, monthly, 6 monthly, etc.) sort out your digital files. If you're no longer using that folder, put it in either a "not currently in use" folder to use again later, or if you're done with it, put it in an archive, on either your computer or (preferably) on a hard drive for safe keeping.

📂I have a "quick access" folder with all the folders I'm currently using in it. This is so all I need to do is find the quick access folder and this way I don't have to sort through a sea of dozens of random folders to find the useful ones. This is also good because there are some windows folders you can't relocate and they sit there taking up space and making it visually more cluttered. Note: Be sure to back up your important folders once every week to 3 months.

📂If you want to go super advanced, there are desktop folder kits on Etsy (and perhaps some free ones? though be careful with downloading random things, you may get a virus). They make the folders look aesthetic.

📂Personally, I use either Obsidian or Notion, depending on what I'm doing (usually Obsidian). I recently installed Askify, which can connect to both. Cool thing about it is that you can add notes from any site on the net including YouTube, it takes screenshots for you, and grabs a timestamp as well as being able to summarise the past 15 seconds of the video for you (though it usually just types what the person said, but this can be helpful). It's $3.50 AUD a month, but Obsidian and Notion are free so you can just use those if you can't afford it.

📂⭐Keep the space you're working in as tidy as you can manage. Try to make a habit of every night taking all dishes and empty drinks into the kitchen before you go to sleep.

📂⭐If you have your own space, don't be afraid to rearrange it! I recently rearranged my entire apartment and using my own cleaning advice - if you haven't used it in the past 6 months, consider chucking it out (if it's not expensive), if it doesn't make you happy, earn you money, and isn't useful regularly in some way, chuck it out - and now I'm 100x more physically comfortable, especially because I have an air conditioner next to me now near where I both work and sleep. If you have trouble visualising, try using a website to do so or draw it on paper until it feels right. Pro tip: you don't have to throw away everything, you can also donate it to an op shop/charity/homeless shelter that accepts donations if it's still usable, or you can sell it if it's high-ish quality and worth something.

📂⭐*If you can't do it today, then put it on your to-do list for tomorrow. Keep transferring unfinished tasks to tomorrow until your list is free from tasks.

📂⭐Generally good advice, especially for neurodivergents (but everyone needs to know!): take a dang break every once in a while! If you find yourself getting frustrated with something, take a break, possibly until tomorrow.

... If you have to do it today, do something to break it up, e.g. a nap or a shower. After this, give it a little while to keep cooling off if you still feel bad, then go back to the task.

... If it's something you have more time to do, stop doing it when it stops being fun/enjoyable. If you don't get fun/enjoyment out of it to begin with, stop when it's no longer interesting. Stop BEFORE you get to the point where you're pushing yourself. That is how you make yourself hate whatever you're doing and get a massive block from doing the task. Trust me, I didn't write a story for over 3 years after writing every single day because I pushed myself to the point it was frustrating to do and forced myself to keep going. Not worth it, wish I hadn't.

Sight

⭐Especially good for creative and visual types, like people who like art, design, front-end web devs, game devs, animators, writers etc.⭐

🎨Aesthetically pleasing - e.g. plugins that can change the aesthetic of programs. A good example is the extremely extensive library of plugins and themes available for Obsidian, all free to install. You can also get aesthetic Notion templates, too, but they often cost money (though you can find free ones on the official Notion template website!).

🎨Some aesthetic program add-ons include: the extensive free plugin/theme library for Obsidian (you can even connect it to back up to GitHub for free, though it's very technical) and aesthetic Notion templates - here's a link to where you can find free ones (there are other categories, too, not just for productivity) - https://www.notion.so/templates/category/personal-productivity?paid=free -------- If you want a link to my Etsy store to buy a nice looking aesthetic Notion template for university students (or a different special one just for design students!) for cheap that has better features than the free ones, go here: https://www.etsy.com/au/shop/PointyBirdDesigns?ref=seller-platform-mcnav§ion_id=47390214

🎨Nice colours that you like.

🎨Nice shapes - e.g. your office has a circular painting that you love the shape of (and it makes you happy to look at it).

🎨Nice visual texture - e.g. you're writing a book - consider doing it in a program that has unlimited pages and has a paper texture in the background with no ads or distractions (and can go full screen).

Smell

👃If you're not sensitive to perfumes, spraying a nice scent whenever you do the habit could make you feel happier. You may even start to associate the task with that nice smell.

👃Make sure the area you're working in smells nice. Bad smells can be major subconscious distractions.

Sound

🙉The object associated with your habit makes a satisfying sound, e.g. for writing you might want a certain type of keyboard, like a mechanical keyboard that makes a satisfying "thunk" with each key press and makes you feel like a professional writer. Some browsers like Opera GX (not sponsored) also allow you to add typing sounds directly to the browser, so if you can't afford a nice keyboard but still want a satisfying sound you might want to try that if you're doing a lot in your browser. Otherwise, iirc, there are also writing programs that might do something similar (you'll have to look for them yourself, I can't remember sorry).

🙉⭐You can use things for background noise while you're doing the task if you either have it down really low or you don't need to hear your recordings for it. E.g. for editing a video you can play very soft instrumental music (I don't recommend anything with words, it'll confuse you when they mix with your audio), or if you're doing something like sorting through paperwork you can put on whatever type of music you like or even a twitch or youtube vod/stream on while you're doing it. It sacrifices a tiny bit of optimal brainpower, but you'll likely be less bored and be able to do the task for longer so it'll likely even out, and if you're concerned, you can often do polishing touches at the end to make sure your work is good.

🙉Headphones can go a long way for focus in busy places. Noise cancelling ones can help a lot if you have the cash.

Tactile

🤗*Generally you want to be physically comfortable when performing your habit. If you can afford it/can save up and it's causing you discomfort, try to replace it. A good place to find quality furniture for cheap is your local tender centre. Sometimes op shops are good options, but they're usually more expensive. I found an amazing ergonomic chair for $100 that was worth about $500 - $600. Good things come along sometimes, just keep looking.

🤗If it's something that requires you to go outside and you can afford it, try investing in a few nice outfits to make yourself feel more confident for days when you're feeling less motivated.

🤗⭐If you're neurodivergent or sensitive to textures, make sure before you buy something that you can run your hand along it many times and not feel awful. Honestly, everyone should do this. We all have preferences.

🤗⭐Don't ignore things that make you feel uncomfortable! Why? Because in my experience it's a bit like in video games - these things stack up like debuffs. What I'm saying is, it may not be a big thing to have bright lights hurting your eyes, but if you have bright lights, an uncomfortable chair, and your environment isn't clean, this can be sensory hell, especially for neurodivergents. Write down the things that make you uncomfortable and fix as many as possible, one by one. Don't end up like your neglected sims who are very talented but are completely and utterly miserable because you don't fix the things that are bothering them and don't fulfil their basic needs!

🤗⭐If it bothers you, fix it as soon as you can. It's easy to let little annoyances pass, but just like when a sim does something they dislike, your tolerance for it will be grated until you feel absolutely awful and/or snap. This goes for things as little as your room being too cold (get a blanket or if you can afford it and have one, put the heater on!) or too hot. Do NOT screw around with things you can fix in under 2-30 minutes. If you can fix it in under 2 minutes, do it right now. If you can fix it in under 10 minutes, write it down and do it today. For the rest, add it to either a weekly, monthly, or some day to-do list. Scheduling it for a certain period of time makes it more likely to get done, though. If you're like me and can't do something when you force yourself to or are told you have to, just schedule it to be done within a certain week or month. No pressure.

Feeling

💜⭐A good rule of thumb is that you've achieved desirability when you feel excited to do the habit. If this excitement ever wears off, try mixing and matching other ways of building desirability or changing something about the habit, e.g. the prompt (see habit building books or summaries for more info). Keep it fresh! Whenever you get bored, change things around.

💜⭐Listen to your emotions. Emotions are the body's way of communicating things with you, whether it be about your environment or about your body or mental state. Sure, some are irrational, but every emotion has a story to tell. Try listening. Don't push your emotions down, learn to process them. If you don't know how, a therapist can help.

Bonus note:

Don't spend beyond your means! If you can't afford it, don't buy it! I am not telling you to go out and spend as much as you can on these things. Mid-range is usually the best bang for your buck, and can often be found for cheap in op shops and tender centres, as I said.

Good luck! If you have any bonus tips feel free to reblog this post or comment and add them!