#does anybody want bread?

[callsign-pyro]

Do you guys ever just feel big things and then try to bake them away? But like because the feelings are big you end up with way too many sweets and then you suddenly have four pies, 2 1/2 batches of shortbread, 2 batches of jam filled cookies, and 6 different kinds of bread? Like I just wanna know if I'm alone in this

[united-federation-of-trek]

[milquetoad]

i want to make som ciabatta bread ina brick hearth oven and take it out w my bare hands when it’s got a thick crisp golden crust and give it to the first person that walks past *my oven is outside in the town square* and they’re like oh thanks man i love fresh ciabatta im going to go home and make some soup to eat this with w my lover and then they walk off and i just go back to makingmore ciabatta

[0ystercatcher]

snacks

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Older (Dean Winchester)

Description: Y/N has a crush on Dean but they have a 20 year age gap. How does Dean react when she finally tells him?

Warning: Smut, Age Gap

Word Count: 1,743k

Y/N watched Dean as he washed Baby. His big muscular arms on display with the tight white shirt that had dirt on it. Baby was soapy and wet as Dean wiped her down. Y/N was trying not to drool as he went in circular motions cleaning the car. She was too into the scene in front of her; she didn’t notice Sam coming up to her side. “Stare any longer he might just notice your obvious crush on him.” He said to me, making her snap out of it. She turned towards him and rolled her eyes. He chuckled and handed her a beer. She took it from him and took a drink. “Ya think maybe he’s too old for you.” He said. Y/N pushed him and they both laughed. She sighed and looked at Dean again. He was pouring water on the soapy car. She sighed and got up  from her spot and walked into the house. She needed a cold shower to erase the dirty thoughts from her mind. 

It was days later that she’d be staring at the older man as he made breakfast. They had just come back from a hunt and Y/N was hungry so Dean offered to cook for her. Sam was getting some sleep but the other two were wide awake. “How do you like your eggs?” He asked her as he got them out of the fridge. “Over easy.” She said and he cracked the two eggs on the pan. She watched as he put the bread in the toaster. “You really didn’t have to make me anything.” She said as Dean put the eggs on the plate. “But I wanted to. You deserve it putting up with us.” She laughed as he set the eggs and toast in front of her. She thanked him. “Well I like putting up with you guys.” She said. He got his plate and sat across from her. “What, you got a crush on one of us?” He joked but she didn’t laugh. “Nah we’re probably too old for you anyway.” He said. She stared at him without saying anything. She shook her head and went back to eating her food. “Yeah totally.” She said. 

She woke up 7 hours later in bed and yawned. She remembered the cringey things Dean asked her this morning and she sighed. She thought for a second when he asked her that she was caught. Luckily Dean was oblivious.She got out of bed and stretched. She walked out of her room and noticed Dean at the table on the computer. “Where’s Sam?” She asked. “Grocery Shopping.” He said and nodded and sat down across from him. He looked up from the computer at her. “So back to early convo you probably like Jack don’t you?” He asked. She looked at him confused. “No, not the antichrist.” She laughed. “Do you even like anybody?” He asked. “Dean, can we not talk about this?” She asked not wanting to expose herself. “Yeah sure.” He said and went back to research. The silence now,awkward and unwanted. 

Why was Dean so curious about who she had feelings for or if she did? She honestly thought that Dean was too old for her but that’s how she liked it. They were eating dinner and she had a glass of wine. Dean sat across from her and Sam sat next to Dean. Jack and Cas sat next to her. Everyone was in a conversation except her. She never talked much while eating. She sometimes butted in with Jack and Cas but other than that kept quiet. Dean noticed her silence and wondered if it was about his question earlier. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. After dinner was over she helped him clean up.

She didn’t say anything to him so he figured he thought correct. “I’m sorry about the question earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He said. She looked at him. “You didn’t.” She said and poured herself some more wine. “If I did I would completely understand-” “Dean.” She interrupted him. He looked over at her and she was holding the wine and her upper body on the table a little. Her boobs are perfectly on display. “What are you-” She took a sip of wine and smirked. “I told myself I’d never fuck anyone old enough to be my dad.” She states. He stares at her in shock. She stood up and walked closer to him. “That was until I met you.” She said seductively. “Wait you like me?” He asked her confused but kinda turned on.

She nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And before you give me any of that age bullshit. I’m 22 i’m an adult.” He stared at her as her hands ran over his chest. “You have no idea what you do to me Dean.” She says and her hands lower themselves to the bottom of his shirt. She tugs on it and he looks down seeing what she was doing. “Y/N are you sure?” He asked her. She looked up at him with lustful eyes. “Are you sure Dean? Think you can handle me, old man?” He chuckled and picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.She laughed as he took her to his room. He threw her on the bed and smirked. “I’m 42 sweetheart not 72.” He said and took off his shirt revealing his amazing body. She was almost drooling at the sight. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him down in a kiss. He moved his lips against hers as his hands traveled her body. He lifts her tank top up a bit and she pulls away from the kiss. She sits up and removes it showing her white bra. He looks down at her boobs and cups them. “Wow you’re so sexy.” He says and moves his hands to her back. He unclips the bra and she lets it fall freeing her boobs. He smirks at the sight and leans down to put one of her nipples in his mouth. She gasps his name and her hands go to his head as he licks and sucks. Her hands moved to his jeans and she cupped his growing erection. He moans against her nipple. “Dean take these off.” She breathes out. He pulls away from her nipple and gets up to remove his jeans. He pulls them down along with his boxers. She moves herself to the end of the bed and pulls him closer to her. “I didn’t know if I want you in my mouth or inside of me.” She says and he chuckles. Her eyes staring at his long hard cock. “Both would be ideal but right now I really need to be inside of you.” He tells her and pushes her back on the bed.

She smiles as he pulls down her panties. He gets back on her and kisses her again. She runs her hands up and down his muscular back. He pulls away and sighs into her mouth as he lines himself up with her entrance. He pushes in slowly and she gives a sharp gasp. “Are you okay?” He asked. She nods. He pushes in deeper and her noises fill his ear. She hadn’t had sex with many people and certainly not with a guy this big before. Once he was in her all the way he let her adjust to him. They stare at each other as she adjusts to him. He got lost in her eyes not believing that this was happening right now. She pulled him out of his thoughts when she thrusted up. She moaned as the pain was gone and she was full of pleasure. He started moving his hips and she let out little moans. Her eyes closed and her mouth opened. He didn’t let his eyes close as he watched her facial expressions. He groaned as her hips started matching his. She grabs his neck and moans his name. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He breathes out and she opens her eyes to look at him. “You feel so good inside of me.” She whimpers. He leans down and starts kissing her neck. She gasped and pulled him closer if that was possible. “Dean, go faster.” She begged and he moved as fast as he could.His hips pounding into her hard and fast making the bed screech. His lips left marks on her neck. Neither of them cared at the moment.

He pulled out of her some and angled his hips. He slammed back in her and hit her g spot making her scream. He covered her mouth with his hand. “Gotta remember sweetheart we aren’t the only ones here.” He groans in her ear. She tried to keep her sounds to a minimum but with him pounding at her g spot that didn’t work. “Dean, you feel too good.” She mumbles in his hand. He nods. “Fuck I know baby. You feel amazing.” He moans. She felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge. He was twitching inside of her signaling that he was close too. “Baby I'm close.” She moaned and he groaned out a me too. She gasped out feeling him fill her up which triggered her orgasm. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as her orgasm hit her. She bit her lip trying to hold back the loud noises that threatened to spill from her. Her hips moved up as she rode out her high. Dean watched her and almost became hard again. Her hips slowed and she opened her eyes seeing Dean already looking at her. “That was hot.” He smirked. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah well thanks to you.” She smirked back. He pulled out of her causing her to moan.

He got up and went to the bathroom and got a wet towel. He came back and cleaned her and him up. “Such a gentleman.” She teased. He laughed and threw the towel in the laundry bin. He collapsed next to her and yawned. “Tired old man?” He turned to look at her. “Baby I could go another 5 rounds.” He said. She turned towards him and smirked. “Prove it.” She said and he smirked. Sam couldn’t sleep that night but Dean and Y/N weren’t complaining.

[l0nelyish]

It‘s about that sandwich!

natasha romanoff x fem!reader

prompt: where you just can’t help but stun Natasha… and maybe get on her nerves? she doesn’t know which one it is.

nothin but pure fluff and nat being pouty af

lil bit of grumpy nat x sunshine reader if you squint.

3rd pov

„That‘s it.“, Wanda turned around, confused. Witnessing Natasha angry, sure thing. Witnessing her confused? never.

“What’s the matter with you, everything alright?”

Natasha huffed, pouting almost childlike. It’s so not like her to seem this openly frustrated, but she couldn’t care less. “Do I seem alright to you? No. This is the fifth time this month she’s been emptying one of the pbj ingredients before i could make one for myself.”, she dragged her eyes across the room, almost analyzing as in ‘hide and seek’. Where could you have been? And why do you have to steal ‘her’ ingredients? Natasha was bothered by you, yes. Extremely.

Wanda took another look at Natasha and chuckled: “Damn, does a peanut butter and jelly sandwich really have that much value to THE black widow? Oh my Lord.”

Natasha almost wanted to hit Wanda in the head with her slices of bread. It was really tempting, she had to admit. The witch shot her a knowing look, most likely hearing her thoughts. Again, the Russian woman huffed. Her temper was really not her strongest suit. Especially not after provoking it.

“It has a decent amount of value, thank you. What do you want me to say? ‘Oh my God! I can’t live without a pbj sandwich! Help me!’ ?”, Natasha shot her a glare, sarcasm being her best suited form of selfdefense. She truly is a witty woman.

On the other side of the kitchen aisle, Wanda tried her best not to fall into a laughing fit. Never has she ever seen Natasha this distressed, this fuzzy. And then, after really considering who they were discussing, she sent her friend a knowing smirk:

“Are you really this cranky about two bread slices or is it because of your ‘definitely not crush’ ?”

Natasha stared at her, eyes blown in shock: she got caught. Again. She usually wouldn’t let someone else read her this easily, but since this is you they’re talking about, and it’s Wanda she’s talking to, there really is no reason to facade it. Still, she tries to deny: “I told you a hundred times, I don’t like her! I can’t even stand her. I mean, she empties the food. What am I supposed to eat now?” So wrong. Even Natasha knows her whole act of trying to hate and blame you for everything is not working and it’s just her best shot at ignoring the rising feelings she’s got for you. But could anybody blame her, really? When you were this excited, extremely beautiful, empathetic and shiny human being?

You entered the kitchen, unaware of the ongoing dispute. Hot on your heels, you scanned the room and reacted to Natashas last sentence: “Did Steve forget the groceries? Are you hungry?”

And just like that, after merely 5 seconds, Natasha dreaded holding a grudge. Her whole demeanor snapped (no pun intended) and her eyes gazed almost neutrally into your warm gaze: “Someone emptied the whole peanut butter jar. And now I can’t make my dinner.”

Surprisingly, you sent her a goofy smile: “Oh! That must have been me, I’m extremely sorry, Tasha. I do have another half of my pbj sandwich left though, I was about to refrigerate it.”, you held up your plate. She gave it a look and panicked internally: were you really about to share your meal? As if gathering her freight, you again sent her a toothy smile and handed her the leftover half. “Enjoy!”, was all you stated, leaving both women standing around the kitchen isle. Plus the pbj sandwich, which Natasha stared at for longer than necessary. The corners of her mouth started to form a smile, which after some contemplation she insisted on not following through.

Wanda, who encountered the whole interaction, had a huge smirk on her face.

Natasha on the other hand, without having to look at her friends face, mentally face palmed herself for always getting so stuck up around you.

“Don’t.”

“I didn’t say anything… but enjoy your meal.”, with that, Wanda left a flushed Natasha stood in the compound’s kitchen.

The widow took another look at your, no her, plate. And after a year, she still can’t wrap her head around it:

What was she going to do about you?

[stuckinapril]

how to feel like a person?

digital detox. if your phone was taken away, how much free time would you have? how empty would your day be? do you have things to do outside of scrolling endlessly on different apps? if you come to the realization that a lot of your time consists of being glued to your screen, you need to start considering incorporating no-phone time blocks into your day. a big part of our daily misery boils down to consuming so many things in 24 hours, to the point that we feel too burned out to do anything else that truly nourishes our body and soul.

establish a routine. discipline is so important for happiness. start out small—schedule your day, get consistent with your skincare routine, take daily walks—and then gradually add more and more things. don’t try to revamp your life all at once. that’s a surefire way to quit altogether. be realistic about your limits, but also push yourself where appropriate so you don’t stay static.

journal. mentalize your feelings. don’t suppress your emotions. be curious about your thought processes and what makes you tick. always be self-compassionate, but hold yourself accountable where it’s due.

start pursuing hobbies. make a list of all the things that interest you and try them out. there are so many things out out there; one of them is bound to stick. don’t go into it with the negative mindset that you know you wouldn’t like doing x and y. some things you might know in your heart are not for you, but don’t rule out possibilities you’re ambivalent about. be open-minded and see finding your interests not as a chore, but as an exciting prospect.

practice gratitude. this is such a popular advice bc it works. start off your day by listing 3 things you’re grateful for. it’s crazy how so many people don’t realize it’s a blessing to just be alive, when so many people get robbed of their lives so early on. i’m not saying to never shoot for more, but having a foundation of contentment goes a very long way.

have a solid set of friends, but march your own march. you don’t need anybody; you just want them. same thing with friends. friends are good for us because we are a social species, but if one person were to leave your life, it’s not the end of the world. your life is already colorful, filled with so many things you’re doing for yourself—furthering your career, improving on your skills, working on your fitness—that a person leaving shouldn’t be detrimental. never be so dependent on someone you can’t envision a life without them. you need to make your life exciting on your own; you can’t have someone else doing all the heavy lifting for you.

have an abundance mindset. if one thing fails, that just leaves room for something better to take its place. you are always bound to find better. there are 8 billion people in this world. there are countless different possibilities. failure or loss does not mean it’s game over for you.

see pain as a learning experience. true growth spurts do truly come from heartbreak or failure. it teaches us to pick ourselves back up and try again. always have a growth mindset. that relationship didn’t work out? now you know what to avoid for the next relationship. you’re single again? now you get to focus on and learn more about yourself. that friendship ended? at least you won’t waste any more time on someone who doesn’t value having you in their life. you didn’t get that job? that leaves the door open for other possibilities. you didn’t get the score you wanted? now you know what to work on to do better next time.

action-directed things to improve your self-esteem. you can sit in your room all day and tell yourself you’re the best thing since sliced bread and everyone’s obsessed with you, but truly building up your self-esteem comes not only from thinking positive things about yourself, but also acting on them. work on things you care about. work on yourself as a person. love who you are, but also strive for self-improvement. do things that can act as proof—to you—for why you’re worthy. it’s a game changer.

dispense of the victim-of-life mentality. it’s safe to dwell in your misery and keep blaming things on factors out of your control, but where would that get you? it’s just resulting in you expending your energy needlessly. stop seeing life as jumping from tragedy to tragedy. actively fight against your negativity bias. recognize that for every bad thing that happens, 100 good things happen, but we as humans have a tendency of focusing only on the negatives. sort through your emotions, make peace with what happened, but pick yourself up and move on. the most valuable thing we all have on this planet is time. it’s limited and it will come to an end eventually. you don’t want to look back and resent yourself for not simply letting go of things and appreciating what you have around you.

[amphiaria]

*walks back in* and one more thing

ultimately we need to meet media on its level, and the reason that chobits is a crazy-making narrative is that it takes such huge, insane swings and utterly whiffs every single one of them. if it were an absolute failure on every level nobody would like it. it is extraordinarily good at a few specific things. anybody will tell you that the aesthetic is absolutely off the chain. very few manga groups rival clamp in appealing character design. every single thing they have ever done oozes with style, and their costume design is more considered than many larger and much more successful properties. they are also very good, bless their hearts, at making narratives where god's most perfect angel (literally in the case of wish) makes doe eyes at the most Some Guy-ass man in existence. they're fucking great at this. this is their bread and butter. this is what they want to be doing, and everything else is gravy to them.

why they decided to tell this particular narrative with chobits' particular set dressing is frankly beyond me, but I am not the ultimate authority on what stories are allowed to be told in which settings. chobits makes me insane because I want it to be more ambitious than it is - because I think I see places where IT wants to be more ambitious than it is - but I can't condemn the story because it wasn't exactly what I wanted it to be. chobits raises and subsequently fumbles a thoughtful narrative about the violence of being a women in a society where sexuality is forcibly imposed upon you without your knowledge and against your will and is unable to keep the plate spinning alongside the other plate that wants to draw cute girls in underwear (I am only going to write five paragraphs about the fucking vagina button if you ask me to). we cannot help but rend our garments and stan.

anyway I theorize that rebecca sugar read chobits and looked at hideki/chii and went "I could make it gay and worse" and gave us pearlrose send tweet.

[ghostfaceprincess]

Them Cooking For You For The First Time:

-

TW: Language.

-

Michael Myers:

• I mean… he really did try.

• Surprisingly decent, it’s just a little burnt.

• He decided on steak and mashed potatoes.

• Hey, he’s proud of himself. 🤷🏻‍♀️

-

Freddy Krueger:

• Used his glove to cut up everything; and I do mean everything. The meat, the veggies, etc.

• He decided on chicken pasta with salad as a side.

• The pasta is cooked perfectly.

• He pairs it with a nice wine. 10/10.

-

Jason Voorhees:

• He… tried.

• It’s supposed to be spaghetti…

• Hey, the garlic bread is good though!

• Maybe you should do all the cooking and he’ll do the dishes.

-

Billy Loomis:

• He surprised you! The food is so good!

• He made chicken with mac and cheese, corn bread, and green beans.

• He did not make dessert though.

• He was hoping you could be dessert. 😏

-

Stu Macher:

• THIS MAN CAN COOK IDC WHAT ANYBODY HAS TO SAY

• A full meal plus dessert.

• Everything is cooked and seasoned perfectly.

• Yes, you heard me, s e a s o n e d.

-

Charles Lee Ray:

• He gave up before he even started.

• He ordered Chinese takeout and then plated it.

• He also paired it with beer.

• He didn’t think about dessert.

-

Tiffany Valentine:

• Oh, she went all out!

• She made you like four different meals and desserts to go with them.

• “I just wanted you to have options.” What a cutie!

• “The rest can just be meal prep!”

-

Bubba Sawyer:

• He made you the beeeeeest fucking soup you’ve ever had. Well, it’s more like a gumbo, but still.

• He made dessert as well; just classic chocolate chip cookies.

• He did ask his brothers for help.

• He smiles proudly as he presents it to you.

-

Thomas Hewitt:

• Did everything all on his own.

• Made ribs with fries.

• Literal 10/10.

• He knows how to add some flavor!

-

Art the Clown:

• Cook?

• Yeah, no. He gets take out and does not try to take credit for it.

• He does plate it very nicely though.

• Pats your head as he hands you your plate.

-

The Creeper:

• He let you pick what he made.

• And he did it perfectly too!

• There’s so much seasoning and flavor.

• Though, he can’t perfect all meals. Just this one and a few others.

-

Thanks for reading! 🦇🖤

[nockfell0]

Moira O’Deorain Relationship Headcanons

Alright, you know I had to write something for Miss Moira <3

These are all SFW, NSFW will be coming later on, I’m sure.

(Accepting requests!)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. Read below . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

❥ Moira is a surprisingly gentle lover for how ruthless she is in the lab. She doesn’t have much time for anybody or anything… besides you.

❥ And because of that, she loves hard. She’s a very romantic woman; there’s no denying it. She will take her time with you, flirting, dates, spending time with you, etc. She is a very dedicated lover, and that’s one of her softest qualities.

❥ I can see her being the “opposites attract” type. Might be self projecting a bit here, but I can definitely see her type having traits contrasting her own. (Younger, short, quiet, perhaps a little chubby) it DEFINITELY feeds her dominant persona. But even if you’re not any of my headcanoned stereotypes, I promise she loves you just the same <3 don’t listen to me.

❥ She likes to spoil you; whether that be with attention or with gifts or nice dates. She likes to buy things for you, which is definitely a weakness of hers, but she loves to be the one to make you smile, and spoiling you… well, it fuels her ego a bit. She loves to take care of you.

❥ She loves it when you let her talk to you about all things science. You showing interest in her work is one of her favorite things. Moira loves how you can see the value and worth in her work, it’s like her way of getting validation from you.

❥ She’ll gladly explain the same theory over and over to you again, because that means that you want to understand it. She finds comfort in knowing you’re not just shaking your head going “mhm” the whole time. She loves when you seem to find value in what she does as geneticist. Although, don’t call her out on it ;)

❥ She can be surprisingly affectionate behind closed doors. You won’t get much PDA, or attention in the lab, but when you’re at home with her? She’ll always invite you to join her and get close. You broke her out of her shell, so now you must suffer the consequences.

❥ She’ll hold you in her lap and run her fingers through your hair, scratch up and down your back, hold your pretty face and tell you how adorable you look in her arms… It’s a side of her you never expected to see. She’s also a very good kisser… ;)

❥ Also… the poor woman is almost always sore from her long days bent over working on experiments. Massage her shoulders, rub her back, she will be yours. She likes your touch and your touch alone.

❥ She will also be a bit of a chatterbox on the rare occasions you see her outside of a work environment. She hasn’t particularly enjoyed conversing with someone else in years, nor has she felt comfortable enough to build such a personal relationship in a long time, so she… goes a little overboard with you. Sometimes she doesn’t know when to stop talking, but it’s in her own Moira way that you don’t mind. She has endless stories to tell and endless conversational topics. It’s almost out of character.

❥ She loves it when you think of her. A little gift here and there, such as her favorite treat or something with her favorite scent, she loves it all… invite her everywhere as well. Going on a walk? Ask her to join. Going to the gym? Ask her to join. Cooking? Ask her. She loves it when you want her to participate. Knowing that her presence is desired means everything. Even if she doesn’t want to leave the house, or is cooped up in the lab.

❥ You’ll find out a lot of her little quirks as well, such as how she likes to paint, or read novels in her spare time. Sometimes you’ll come home from a long day and they’ll be a warm dinner made and fresh bread on the counter.

❥ She’ll attempt to take interest in your hobbies as well, even if she thinks they’re… well, a bit odd. She never has been particularly interested in anything other people care about, but she’ll certainly try. She might even try to join you sometimes, even if it’s just to see the smile on your face. Who knows! You two might find something you have in common.

❥ Unfortunately, she is far from stable, and there are some rocky spots you’ll definitely hit, and they will not be pretty.

❥ Her science is her EVERYTHING. It will be hard to pull her out some nights, and even though she makes as much time for you as possible, sometimes it’ll never feel like enough. She will try to take off time for you as much as possible; she promises.

❥ Her need for control can sometimes be a bit too much on you. She doesn’t like to say sorry or admit she’s wrong. At the beginning of your relationship, she will rarely apologize, and will just need space when she gets upset. She hates being vulnerable, and she feels that way when she’s done something wrong.

❥ Her communication skills improve over time, but they’re never perfect. She has a tendency to lash out, then eventually she’ll give into her emotions and will finally allow herself to open up. It’s surprising over time how much she allows herself to cry in front of you. She has a lot of repressed feelings that she doesn’t like displaying. You two will figure it out together, though. She will do it. For you.

❥ Jealous isn’t the right word. Possessive is. She will be very controlling, which she’ll need lots of reassurance and patience to be told that you’re not going to get bored of her. She feels guilty about her struggles in the relationship, and wants to know you won’t give up on her. She won’t ask, but tell her that.

❥ Empathy can be hard sometimes, but she’s a good listener. She will let you talk and cry as much as you please, and even if she doesn’t have many words to say, she wants you to know she cares, even if her words can’t express it.

❥ I can see her being a big fan of parallel play style nights together too. Just sit with her in her lab on rough nights and be there, or play a game on your phone while she reads next to you in bed. Just be there. Sometimes she doesn’t want to talk. Neither do you.

❥ Either way, she loves you… and you love her. That’s all that matters.

[crownmemes]

Spy Sentences, Vol. 14

(Sentences from various sources for spies and/or secretive muses. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"You've got to be smart. You have to realise that you can't trust people."

"Don't play coy; knowing stuff is your bread and butter."

"There's a camera built right into the bridge of these glasses. Whatever you see, it sees, and then it transmits it back here."

"Thank you for not killing me."

"I'm not here to save you. I'm not here to save anybody."

"We are in a situation that is beyond morality."

"Do you know how many years of my life I've given to my country?"

"You really passed your psych rotation?"

"You did this behind my back."

"We all come out of this a lot less human than we went in."

"I've been watching you for some time."

"You're desperate and scared, and desperate people make mistakes."

"So, how did you become a hostage?"

"A weapon's only as good as the man who's wielding it."

"There's more at stake here than you can imagine."

"You were right; it's not like the books."

"You should be careful who you point a gun at."

"I'm not here to make deals, or to listen to threats."

"The way I look at it, he wouldn't be trying to stop us if what we were doing wasn't threatening to him, and he wouldn't be threatened if he wasn't vulnerable."

"Coincidences make me uncomfortable."

"Everybody wants to be a spy until they realise the cost."

"Your scepticism will serve you well on this mission."

"Does everybody around here have trust issues?"

"Why do you feel compelled to save and avenge?"

"You followed me here, didn't you?"

"I know people hate me, consider me evil, but it is my detachment - my indifference to suffering - that allows me to be effective."

"We're all cold-blooded. Hadn't you noticed?"

"You are the worst spy ever!"

"Repeated luck is never luck."

[i-am-church-the-cat]

logan's pov on the soulmate au? 👀🙏

😌🕶️🤏🏼😎

--

Logan had grown up dreading meeting his soulmate. His parents were soulmates and had gotten married less than a year after they met. Dalton didn't have a soulmark and his parents always treated it like it was some tragedy. They always told Logan that the day he met his soulmate would be the happiest of his life, that he would fall in love with her immediately and never want to be with anyone else.

That was a problem for two reasons. 1) he didn't think he liked girls enough to want to be around one all the time. And 2) he was always moving around and leaving for karting. Racing was his true love, he didn't have time for a soulmate on top of that.

Despite all of that, his parents hadn't been entirely wrong. Logan knew immediately when he met his soulmate (who was a boy and not a girl, just like he had told them) but he didn't feel any differently about him than he did any of his other friends.

As they got older and got closer, Logan realized how important Oscar really was to him. He'd never had anyone that he could count on to always be there for him. Oscar was that person for him, and he clung onto him like a lifeline. He's glad Oscar didn't seem to mind.

They got older though and Logan got a bit more independent. The day that his parents would claim to be the worst day of his life wasn't actually that bad.

"I think I want to ask Lily out," Oscar said, looking seriously into the phone screen.

"Lily Zneimer? Your classmate?" Logan asks, looking up from the homework they were doing. Though Oscar and Logan were close, Oscar went to a different school in a different town. It wouldn't take long to get there but since they saw each other most weekends anyway, they didn't bother. "That sounds good, dude, what's the issue?" He asks, cause he could feel that something was bothering Oscar.

"You wouldn't be mad?" The younger boy asked, looking worried.

Logan paused and thought about it. Everything his parents told him tells him he should be mad. But he isn't. If Oscar likes a girl, he should ask her out. Logan wants him to be happy. And the little place in the back of his head that is distinctly Oscar tells him that nothing would ever take the other boy away from him. Logan didn't have to worry about being left behind when it came to Oscar.

"Of course not. If you like her, go for it."

He felt and saw Oscar relax and the younger boy gave him a small smile through the screen. "You know, you can date someone, too, if you want."

"Yeah maybe," Logan says, shrugging the idea off. Over the last couple of years Logan has realized he doesn't have the desire to date and fall in love like the rest of his classmates do, like Oscar does. He wants to be loved and accepted by his friends and family, he wants to race and be the best that he can. He doesn't need another person to do that with, though.

Logan haltingly tries to explain this to Oscar but the boy stops him.

"I get it, mate, I can feel you, too, you know? If you don't ever want to date anybody, that's cool."

Logan gives his friend and soulmate a smile, falling into the easy acceptance that has always been a part of their relationship.

"Well, when you and Lily get married and have tons of kids, I'll be the fun uncle with 3 dogs and a yacht."

"Shut up, Logan," Oscar says, blushing bright red. Logan can't help but laugh at him.

--

"Logan can you get the bread out of the oven, please?" Lily asks as soon as she hears him walk through the door.

"Yes ma'am," Logan says, dropping a kiss on Lily's cheek as he walks by, grabbing the oven mitts where he knows they'll be. It's been a year since Lily and Oscar got this apartment together and between races and sleepovers, Logan feels like he's here more than his own apartment.

"You're late," Oscar says, coming in from the balcony where he was taking a call. Logan just smiles at him, the same smile Oscar always says makes him look like a puppy. Oscar shakes his head and leans down to kiss Lily before slapping Logan on the shoulder in greeting.

"How has your day been, Lo?" Lily asks, moving things around on the table to make space for the bread tray.

"It was good, Elias and I spent most of it training." Oscar shudders at the mention of physical exercise during the off-season and Logan laughs.

They sit down to eat, Oscar and Lily on one side and Logan on the other, and Logan listens as Lily talks about her newest project at work. Despite being around engineers all day, most of it goes over his head, and he can tell it goes over Oscar's too. Still, he's got experience at this point, and knows when to ask all the right questions.

After dinner, Oscar and Lily end up bickering over the dishes, Logan as a "guest" being relegated to the couch. He watches in amusement at the fight, the warm feeling of acceptance and domesticity washing over him.

His parents haven't stopped nagging him about getting a boyfriend and Dalton still tries to set him up every time he's in town. But really, this is all Logan needs.

[finlizziah]

Does anybody want bread by any chance. I happen to have a lot due to reasons.

[hitlikehammers]

party staples

rating: t ♥️ cw: criminal-levels of softness ♥️ tags: established relationship, rockstar husbands, wedding plans, soul-deep love, slice of life, seriously: the softness

for @steddielovemonth day twenty-one: Love is letting him pick the music (@sparklyslug)

look look it's the rockstar husbands' third wedding! ♥️

He wants this for Steve.

Like, it’s all for Steve. Kind of…not in a way that’s, y’know, where Eddie’s not living for himself, but in the way where who and what he is, the life he has: it’s something he’s woven alongside Steve into this tapestry that’s…that’s them and so every breath he takes is from those threads, right, so all of him, all he has and all he feels and all he does: it’s them, because they’re stitched together not so that you can’t tell the difference, but so that you…you can���t unravel them. They’re too entwined.

And it is glorious.

But so, here’s the thing: they’ve exchanged rings? Twice, now. Maybe kinda-more if you want to get technical: they’d asked each other for forever, though, well—

Technically, Eddie thinks they do that every day. So, fine, but—

They have managed two formal-ish proposals. As formal as you can get if one’s the morning after you moved in together and christened the new bed, with a bread-bag twisty-tie, and the other the night after a graduation from community college with an acceptance to the night educators program in hand from IU East, fresh off the most promising label talks Eddie’s had with anybody ever, and they both just felt it, y’know, like they wanted to mark this as always, that they were growing and changing and their lives were moving and the momentum of them both was the momentum of them both, their life together was this beautiful always they were actively taking steps into, and it was just: they were dizzy with it, they were overfull of it, they were so happy and the only thing they could do was stop at a 7-11 and buy goddamn Ring Pops but they’d laughed and they’d kissed so fucking drenched in that feeling and if Eddie’d ripped off Steve’s gown to the point where it was really good they hadn’t rented it?

Eddie’ll forever pretend that was planned in advance.

Point being: Eddie’d worn Steve’s ring—his grandpa’s, who’d loved Steve right and Eddie wished he’d have known him, if only to tell him thank you—and Steve’s worn a cheap ass band Eddie’s tried to upgrade probably every-other-month for a while now but Steve won’t have it, the sentimental bastards still wears the probably-rusting remains of the twisty-tie—but they’re…they’re already married in every way that matters. So the idea of doing it again? Isn’t…isn’t stressful.

It’s kinda…exciting.

Because they’re going to share this with all their friends, their family. They’re going to bring everyone to their little house when the kids are back from school and Robin and Nance can make it in, hell: Jon just left with the intention to spend the next month roadtripping his way from California for the occasion. They’re making real money, now; the band’s doing more than he ever would have expected, Steve’s beloved—of course he is, as he damn well should be—at school, he’s the kind of counselor Eddie might have made it through senior year the first time with, if he’d had someone that invested, showing that much care for him. They’re…they’re in such a good place, and it’s only looking brighter on the horizons to come, all the way into forever: and that isn’t more than Eddie could have expected.

No: that is more than he ever even knew to hope for, it’s…it’s so much bigger than anything he ever knew existed.

But Robin’s going to officiate. Hopper and Joyce, and Claudia too: they nearly squared off for who could stand up for Steve, not to give him away so much as to hold him close and make sure he knows what he means and Eddie could kiss them for it, because the look in Steve’s eyes when they’d asked if they could share the job, it was…

Eddie might just kiss them all for it, when the day comes. Hopper included.

But everybody: Wayne’ll be there, for him, the boys are coming, gonna play requests for a couple hours, which should be fucking hilarious, and then hand it over to a band Steve insisted they hire so everyone could enjoy the evening, and it’s gonna be in their backyard, with the barbecue and a bonfire, just this mastic joyful potluck and—

“You finish the playlist, so we can send it off? I figure we’ll let the three finalists react to the song selection, might make the decision easier if any of them hate it,” Steve’s leaning over his shoulder and he turns, bumps into Steve’s cheek and Steve ducks his head to kiss Eddie’s jaw: because he was supposed to be finalizing the list for the band that would come on to give Jeff, Dougie, and Gareth the rest of the night off. Because Eddie was the musician, here. Eddie would of course pick the songs.

Except…he’s not the only person who loved music, in this relationship. And…he doesn’t know what specifically makes it so strong, and obvious in his chest, but: Eddie…wants this, for Steve.

He wants to dance to the songs Steve picks, he wants his heartbeat to waltz in time with Steve’s, first-and-foremost-and-always, but then find the rhythms Steve likes most to pick up the downbeat, he…

He wants to drown in Steve, in as many ways as he can find.

So he hands the paper over and pops the pen out of his mouth, which Steve only eyes for the movement, doesn’t even bother chastising him for chewing on the plastic cap anymore, knows to pick his battles: but Eddie hands it over, wordless—an offering, and a request at once:

Let me dance to your music, with you in my arms.

Steve look at him for a long stretch of moments, and his lips are plush around the soft smile that settles on his mouth: contented. So wreathed in love.

He leans in and Eddie’s ready this time, tilts his neck so Steve can kiss him full at the neck, wrapping arms around Eddie’s waist so he can squeeze him close and breath against his jaw:

“I’ve got just the thing.”

And then he’s gone, and Eddie stares after him, just…lost in thought except it’s not lost, even inside his head: he knows exactly where he’s at in his thoughts. Same place he always is.

With Steve.

And then the genuine article is back, grinning a little…not nervous exactly, but something, as he walks over to the stereo and pops the cassette into the deck.

And Eddie raises an eyebrow at him, curious, as he reaches an arm out toward Steve, not really an invitation just a knowing, that Steve will come to him and settle in his lap, in his arms.

Which he does. Because that’s who they are.

“Strings?” Eddie asks as the sound fills the room and Steve just grins, a little bashful; huh. “And piano,” because the keys are swelling on the track and it’s pretty, no, it’s kinda beautiful, but Eddie doesn’t know what it…is.

“Seemed appropriate,” Steve mouths next to Eddie’s ear, warm and kinda almost impish.

“It’s perfect,” Eddie whispers close but what is it, I don’t…” but: oh.

Oh: but he does.

That’s…that’s his music. His song. The band, but this is, he’s—

“Stevie?” he asks, a little breathless, a little wondering because, because—

“I’d kinda hoped you might not fill the whole list,” Steve murmurs, lips pressed against his skin so warm, so firm, so…

Perfect.

Perfect, and it sends the most delightful shivers up Eddie’s spine.

“What,” Eddie starts, shakes his head, feels his cheeks start to ache a little as he smiles bigger and bigger because…this is classical, and this is fucking professional, and it’s goddamn Corroded Coffin, in orchestral…splendor.

“Friend of Robin’s is at Berklee, in Boston,” Steve nuzzles against his neck a little as he explains; “studying composition, I asked if she could,” and he sighs a little, the softest little breath and he drags his lips to catch against Eddie’s skin, wanting nothing from it; almost lazy as he exhales: “just if she could arrange some things.”

Some things, he says, like Eddie’s heart—which was already overfull—isn’t trying to burst not just out of Eddie’s chest, but out of its own size and shape, a glorious tender explosion of just, just…

Feeling.

“I thought we could have someone to play, these,” Steve nods toward the speakers; “and then Dustin said he’d play DJ for, you know. Party staples.”

Eddie leans so he can look Steve in the eye to ask the most important question:

“Love Shack?”

He is not ashamed to say he fucking loves when that song comes on at a wedding. Steve huffs.

“Of course, baby.”

“Van Halen?” and Steve grins. “All sorts of Van Halen,” which is as it should be. Steve wooed Eddie too fucking well with Why Can't This Be Love; “also some George Michael,” and that’s perfect, Eddie doesn’t even care, he just loves the sly grin Steve gets when he says it, wants to eat that grin, if he gets to see that mouth look so soft and happy he can sure as hell appreciate some George fucking Michael; “but if I miss anything, you’ll see it before Dustin gets his paws on it, you can add whatever I overlooked,” and he leans in again, this time claiming Eddie’s lips and Eddie gives willingly, gratefully—as always.

And it settles, all around Eddie in that moment: the way he’d wanted Steve to have this thing that’s so him on the outside, but if it is, then it’s them at its core, like all of it is.

And what did this magnificent bastard go and do, but give Eddie his own songs right back as a…a gift; songs that are all Steve, anyway.

He can’t help the laughter, this buoyant thing with its own velocity: he can’t help but let it shake out of him against Steve’s lips as he kisses him harder, deeper, as he tries to get lost in the feeling, in the reality of this man: his husband.

Because wherever he gets lost? Steve’s right there, always and forever.

He’ll be just fine.

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

[rel312]

Things I loved about the first two episodes of WWDITS Season 5 (SPOILERS!!!):

Episode 1:

Laszlo acting like he doesn’t care about Guillermo but he clearly does if he not only noticed he was off but also commented on it

“Cause I’m the king of bottoms”

Nandor clearly not being okay, no matter how many times he says he is

Nandor hypnotizing everyone just so they could forget he tripped

“We are not laughing with you, we are laughing at you”

Nandor breaking down the door

Abandoned orphanage = twinkle twinkle little star apparently

“Your nicest shitty sweater”

Colin Robinson is a waiter I-

“I got so shit on my faced”

All humans work at Panera Bread at some point in their lives

Guillermo’s pause for the editors to put a romantic montage of him and Nandor

The sheer amount of to go bags from the restaurant

How they immediately came back after hearing “mall”

All of them immediately walking away after Guillermo tells them to stay put

Laszlo following Guillermo

Nandor having the time of his life on the carousel

The boss not even noticing all the blood

Guillermo not needing glasses anymore but wearing them anyway to not tip anybody off

Nandor getting a foot locker

Guillermo using said foot locker as a coffin

Episode 2:

“You just said doo doo” “touché”

Nadja crying about problems that she caused

The Guide!

The fact that no one noticed she was gone

Laszlo quoting Homer and Sean’s friends saying d’oh

The Guide desperately trying to be Nadja’s friend

Guillermo can make bat ears

Laszlo not knowing who Celine Dion is

“Get in losers, we’re going shopping!”

The destroyed police car

Nandor and Laszlo getting arrested

Laszlo admitting he’s not very good at hypnosis

Nadja also losing her language

There’s a Little Antipaxos!

Nadja talking about how kind she is and ignoring The Guide

A vampire finally got to turn a Jonathan

Never mind

Nandor telling all the cops he’s a captain and letting Laszlo be one of his favorite characters

And then using that power to do whatever he wanted

Laszlo thinking Guillermo had “the shits”

[lanitalay]

One day : Chapter 6

Based on the Netflix series by the same name

a/n: I literally cried writing this. Ouchie. Im sorry for the angst, we'll get fluff soon enough. I'm actually working on a fluffy one shot rn. So expect that soon.

warnings: ansgt, drinking, swearing?,

Word Count: 1.8k

Masterlist

You sat next to Nesta at the bar. It was the first time in over fifty years that you had been on the boat for the Summer Solstice celebrations. That morning, you had done everything in your power to feel the excitement you usually do on this day but nothing worked. It did not help that you woke up on the floor, naked and next to a stranger. It also did not help that you’d be forced to see the two people you wanted to do nothing with. Most importantly, it didn’t help that the only way to keep the collective hangover from a months long bender at bay was to keep drinking. You were constantly nauseous and dizzy. Mind fuzzy so that no thought could stay long enough to hurt. 

“Want another?” Nesta asked you as she motioned for more liquor to be poured in her glass. You mumbled something that sounded like “yes” and then your own was full to the brim again. Had you eaten anything? 

“NestaImagogetsomefood” you informed her while tumbling out of your stool to find something. The world felt like it was tilted on an axis and you were trying with whatever coordination you had to stay upright. Until someone bumped into you and sent you falling backwards. 

You knew you hit your head pretty hard when you opened your eyes and saw double of everything. The male that had knocked you down was standing over you trying to get a response. “Imfinejusthelpmeup” he didn’t seem sure of what you were asking of him until you stretched out your hand and he grabbed it, hoisting you to your feet.  You clung to his chest because everything was spinning and nothing could ground you. “Ineedfood, takemetothefood.” 

You couldn’t see him, but the male who held you was absolutely terrified as a giant winged Ilyrian stalked towards you with a look that promised violence. “Don’t touch her” you felt more hands steady you then strong arms scoop you up and carry you somewhere else. 

“Hey stay with me, y/n, we’ll get you something to eat” you knew that voice, you knew his scent and you knew the “we” he was talking about. “PutmedownAzriel.” 

“You can’t stand straight.”

A few moments later you were on a plush couch on the first deck of the boat, barely anybody was down here, the party in full swing upstairs. “Here” Azriel gave you some buttered bread and water. Until you saw the clear liquid you had no idea how thirsty you were, chugging it down in one go. Which was a mistake, because next thing you know you are running towards the railings and spilling your guts into the Sidra. Azriel was holding back your hair and rubbing circles on your back. “It’s ok, I’ve got you” he said until you finished.

“Stop it” you said after a while, shrugging off his hand. “Y/n-”

“No, you can go now, I’m fine.”

“You’re not, it’s ok let me help-” 

“I don’t want your help.” 

“Let’s just go sit down-” 

He didn’t get it. To this day he does not understand. “Just leave me alone, I mean it, I'm fine.” Your head was resting on your folded arms against the railing. It was a way to find stillness and hide your tears. 

“I found some napkins that maybe-” Azriel took the napkins from Elain and dabbed away the cold sweat that gathered at the base of your neck. It was so tender, so gentle that you bit your lip to keep from screaming. 

“There she is.” You sighed as you heard Nesta’s voice. “I’ve got this, you two can go now.” Without looking up you knew she was staring down Azriel and sagged a little when his footsteps drifted away. “Come on, y/n.” She wrapped an arm around your waist and helped you sit on one of the couches. Head rested on her shoulder like you’d done a million times in the last year. “Amren called me pathetic.” 

“I think I vomited on a turtle.” 

“Safe to say we’ve seen better days.” She nudged you slightly and you chuckled. Better days certainly were behind you. 

After you ate the bread and could stand on your own you returned to the bar and drank the night away.

Mornings were always similar, you woke up in a state of undress. Sometimes alone, sometimes with someone else. Then you took a cold bath, the sticky residue of sweat and sex clinging to your skin from the night before. After that you would go to the cafe on your street and get a pastry and then eat it in your apartment with a cup of tea. 

It was the best part of your day, before memories you kept buried deep began to flash in your mind. Before the regret of what you had become bubbled to the surface. Before you really looked in the mirror and saw just how bad it had gotten. 

The morning after solstice you woke up with a male named Jax. You knew him well enough. He owned the club you and Nesta frequented and he had become a regular night time companion. “Wake up”, you poked him. 

“Good morning to you too” he rolls over and places open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. “You have go.”

“Let me make you pancakes” he says and bites your earlobe. “No thanks, I have plans to meet someone for breakfast.” 

He sighs and stops his ministrations, then gets off the bed and while he dresses asks “are you ever going to let me take you out properly?”

“Probably not,” you answer and walk towards the bathroom. 

You hear Jax finish dressing “I’ll see you around.”

“Bye!” You yell and dunk your head under the freezing water, washing away the night before. 

“Y/n there's someone here saying they know you” you roll your eyes, wanting him to leave already. “Who?”

“Its me Y/n.” You nearly choke when you heard Azriel’s voice boom through your apartment. Quickly you get out of the bath, put on a robe and go into the living room where Jax and Azriel are sizing each other up. “I know him, Jax, it's ok.” He gave you a look and you motioned for him to leave with your hands then closed the door as he finally left. 

“He seems... nice.” 

“What do you want, Azriel?” You asked, still standing by the door with your arms crossed at your chest. “I always bring you flowers on our anniversary” you noticed a brown bag and a delicate bouquet in his hands just then. “Oh.”

“And I wanted to talk to you.”

“About?” 

“Can we sit down for this?”

You rolled your eyes “is it going to take a while? I have somewhere to be.”

“I brought you breakfast.” You sigh and grab the brown bag from his hands “you can talk while I make tea.” 

“How are you?” He asked while scanning your apartment. There was a wet trail from where you walked, clothes strewn about the whole place, a broken frame hanging from the wall and the curtains you typically kept open to allow for sunshine were closed shut. 

“We can skip pleasantries. What do you want?” You were focused on your tea, pouring water into the kettle and waiting for it to boil. “I wanted to check on you. We haven’t spoken in months and yesterday you looked… like you were having a rough time.”

“I’m fine, just drank too much.”

“Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Y/n.”

You say nothing as you look for the leaves to make your favorite tea.

“Y/n.”

“What?”

“Let me help you, please I can’t stand to see you like this” 

You look at him now, curious to see what he’ll say next “like what?” 

“You’re drunk everyday, you come home with someone new every night, you stopped working with Madja. I know the war was difficult for you but this isn’t healthy”. 

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Yes I do. I’ve known you for the better part of a century and something changed for you after the war. You never really came back and I’ve given you space and time but- I can help you. Please, just let me help.” 

“I want you to go, Azriel.” You make to walk to the door but he steps in your way and places two gentle hands just below your shoulders. “Just talk to me-” You step back and push him away from you. 

“You almost died for her! I broke down in front of you and begged you not to die because I can’t survive it and you went into the middle of Hybern’s camp with only Feyre to save her! Then you come back mutilated and I fix you up again and you’re asking why I’m not the same? You go off, you play the hero and then expect me to still be here and I can’t-”

His mouth is slightly agape as he watches you break. 

“I can’t close my eyes without seeing you dead. Your blood has coated me from head to toe and I still feel it. If I’m not careful, I see it over and over and it never stops and then you look at me like everything is fine and it’s not. So I drink and I fuck and I get by as best I can and you don’t get to have a say. Leave” you’re holding the door open for him, fighting against the tears in your eyes. He looks like you just stabbed him. 

“Y/n-” you curse loudly and slam the door. Then walk into your room and change into the first thing you find “Y/n-” he’s pleading and you feel it pull at your heartstrings. “Stay, leave, I don’t care.” You’re out the door.

“I know it's rotten of me, Nes” you were lying on her mattress while she braided her hair.

“It isn’t.”

“It feels rotten.”

“You are entitled to your anger and hurt. Deal with what you’re feeling however you want, I’ll be here to clean you up if things get messy.” 

Your friendship with the oldest Archeron had bloomed unexpectedly after the war. After everything that happened everyone went back to business as usual, except you two.

She had seen Cassian be practically gutted, draped herself over him and was prepared to die. While you were elbow deep in Azriel’s torso trying to get the last piece of ash arrow out. You never spoke of it, the bond of shared trauma. Of insurmountable anger. 

How your souls were crumbling and the only thing keeping you alive was each other. She would clean you up, you would break her fall. 

Standing from the bed you walk to her and hug her tight, tears pouring down your cheeks “I love you Nesta, I love you so much.” She hugged you back without saying a word but from the way her heart beat stuttered you knew she felt the same.