#t^2 writing

[nooneinparticularrrr]

I really just wanna take a nap w/ someone and then have the nastiest sex and then go on a laid back date to a nice steak house and get a little tipsy and then go back to rutting like fucking animals.

Sigh

[queenie-ofthe-void]

Part 1

Eddie’s propped up against the door in the backseat, warm breath fogging the window, eyes open but completely sightless. Nancy wonders what’s going through his head, if he’s figured out why Steve’s upset and Robin’s angry enough to pick a fight. 

She doesn’t think he knows that Steve’s bisexual. Clearly Robin’s constant meddling hasn’t spurred his confessions. At the very least, Eddie has to be confused about how abruptly Steve reacted. Nancy could see the helpless anguish in Eddie’s face as he watched tears shimmer in Steve’s eyes. 

The sight of a heartbroken Steve Harrington is awful to bear. It isn’t something she’d wish on anyone, let alone someone as amazing as Eddie. Now it’s just another shitty thing she and Eddie have in common, like surviving the apocalypse or having curly hair. 

She shifts her eyes sideways and finds Argyle slightly more relaxed than Eddie but still unusually quiet. It could be the high, she supposes. But she’s seen him smoke almost twice as much as he had tonight and be completely fine. She doesn’t even know him that well and the silence is still unsettling. 

They’re about five minutes into the drive when Argyle’s eyes flash to the rearview mirror. “So, Eddie, I didn’t know you and Johnny were a thing.”

“We aren’t,” Eddie startles, almost like in his brooding he forgot where he was. Nancy catches him shifting in his seat. He’s clearly uncomfortable, biting his lip as his eyes skirt back and forth between his lap and Argyle’s in the mirror.

“Sure looked like you two were pretty into each other,” Argyle says. His tone is an honest attempt at light and carefree. It lacks the signature Argyle vibrancy. 

Eddie catches her looking in the rearview mirror, faster than Nancy can avert her gaze. He huffs, nostrils flared, though his eyes are wide with anxiety. “It’s not like that,” he tries to argue back. 

Argyle scoffs. “Seemed like Johnny thought it was.”

“Well it wasn’t.”

The boys almost simultaneously cross their arms and slump back into their seats. It’s quiet until they pull up to Argyle’s new apartment. Once out of the car, he leans back inside. Big brown eyes downcast, his hair hangs loose around his face, shielding him from view of the backseat. Nancy can practically see his heart on his sleeve when he looks at her.

“Nance, let me know how he’s doing?” The question is vague enough that he could mean any of them, but Argyle’s heart is four sizes bigger than anyone she’s met. Of course he’d care about Steve even now that he’s got his own problems.

She smiles, small and sad but hopefully reassuring. “It’s a deal.” He taps the roof of the car, moving to close the door before she surprises herself by calling out to him again. “But if you need anything, you know, maybe someone to talk to–” she hesitates, scrambling for the right words. “It’s just– I know Jonathan better than anyone, other than you, obviously. So if you want to talk, you can always call me.”

Now more than ever Nancy cringes at how socially out-of-place she always feels. It sounds like she’s placing some sort of weird claim on Jonathan, implying that he’s still somehow, inarguably hers after all this time. Even after Robin. 

She quickly gathers her wits to explain herself, wishing she could just shove her tiny foot in her mouth when he cuts through her anxiety with a smile. It matches hers from only moments ago: small, sad, but hopeful. “Sounds like a deal, Big Wheels.”

Nancy chuckles at the new nickname, pulling a more genuine smile out of the both of them. She watches as steps inside before pulling out of the lot and back onto the road toward the trailer park.

Argyle’s absence somehow only makes the tension worse. Eddie stays sitting in the back, slumped forward enough that Nancy worries he’s not actually buckled in. His head is in his hands, face hidden away. 

Her and Eddie have grown close since the final battle with Vecna, just barely making it to the hospital in time to stop him from bleeding out. Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Dustin had sat by his bedside in shifts almost every day for two weeks until he finally woke up. She’d driven him to his appointments, helped him with errands, and made an easy, detailed schedule for his medications.

They’d sat around watching shitty TV reruns. She’d smoked her first joint with him, just two of them sprawled out on the couch talking about all the shit they’d been through. Except every single time, no matter how their conversations started, they always ended with Robin and Steve. 

What started as delicate conversations turned into late night confessions. Eddie was the first person she turned to when she started questioning herself. Nancy knows she was the only person he’d told about his crush on Steve. He’d made her promise not to tell anyone– especially Robin, obviously– and she’d agreed to take it to the grave. She’s fairly sure Robin made a similar promise to Steve. Though, that didn’t stop them from constantly encouraging the boys to just talk to each other.

After what happened today, it’s painfully obvious that Steve likes Eddie just as much as Eddie likes him. Robin’s reaction to everything almost outright confirms it without Steve even having to say anything. At least, it’s obvious to most people.

“I don’t see what the big deal is– why anyone even cares.” Eddie’s words are barely discernible, mumbling into his own hands pressed against his face. He runs his hands roughly through his hair as he leans back against the seat, looking at Nancy through the mirror with wild, angry eyes. 

“I maybe get why you would be upset,” Eddie continues his rant, gesturing at her. His voice begins to rise with frustration, his movements a bit erratic– ‘worked up’ as how Wayne puts it. “You’re with Robin now, and I know you don’t feel that way about Jonathan anymore. But… It just doesn’t make sense.” 

He’s pulling at his curls, and she wants to wrap her hands in his to get him to stop. “Robin’s never been mad at anyone before, and she looked like she was trying not to hit me. She wouldn’t even let me talk to Steve, which is bullshit considering I spend just as much time with him as she does, spend just as many nights there as her. I deserve to know why he’s upset!”

She stays quiet, knowing she’ll get her moment when he runs out of fuel. He always does eventually, it’s just a matter of patience– something she’s grown a lot better at between being best friends with Eddie and dating Robin.

He slumps down into the seat, strings cut. Eddie fails to stop a stray tear from breaking loose as he tips his head back. She sighs as they finally pull up to the trailer, throwing the car in park before she fully turns around to face him. When he refuses to meet her gaze, Nancy sighs again, loud and obnoxious to get his attention. 

She puts a steadying hand on his knee and heaves herself over the center counsel, pushing herself clumsily into the back seat. Eddie yelps in surprise when her knee hits something soft, but they eventually sort themselves out. They turn to face each other, legs tangled up in the middle.

“Nance,” Eddie sighs, his quiet voice tinged with sadness, “why do I feel so shitty about a stupid kiss?”

She reaches across the seats to grab his hand, gently running her thumb across the top of his knuckles. “Do you like Jonathan?”

“Of course I do. What’s not to like?” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself it’s true, eyes scrunched and brow furrowed. She shoots him a scrutinizing glare, and he rolls his eyes in response. “Jesus Christ, Nancy, just say whatever you want to say. You look like you’re trying to kill me with your brain.”

“No, El kills people with her brain. I shoot guns.”

He chuckles nervously, trying to pull his hand away, but she grips it tighter.

She sighs and asks him again, with pointed emphasis. “Do you like like him, though?”

“Do I like like him?” Eddie mimics her, his teasing laugh strained with sarcasm. “Never thought I’d see the day where Nancy Wheeler– my actual fucking best friend, despite the odds– holds my hand and asks if I like like her ex.”

“Which ex?” Nancy shoots back, quick as a whip.

“... What?”

“Jonathan or Steve?”

“What–” Eddie tries to pull away again, and this time she lets him– “I thought we were talking about Jon?”

Nancy hums in thought. “Are we? Is this about your feelings for Jonathan?”

Before Nancy can stop him, he scoffs and throws himself out of the car. She scrambles across the seat and follows him out. His legs may be longer, but even after almost a full recovery, she’s still faster on her feet. Nancy catches him by the wrist just as he jams his key into the front door.

“Eddie, stop acting like a child and talk to me,” Nancy says. “Don’t storm off and pretend like we both don’t know why you’re upset.”

“It was just a kiss!” He rounds on her with red fury in his cheeks, tears clinging to his lashline. “It was just a stupid, fun kiss. I shouldn’t have to feel this way because someone kissed me at a party and I kissed them back. I don’t see why it’s a big deal, it’s not like it matters.”

“Seems like it mattered to Steve.” It’s about as close as she can hint without getting into trouble with Robin. Nancy knows Steve’s still playing his cards close to his chest, but she also knows sometimes it’s best to just go all in. 

Air rushes out of Eddie’s lungs, breath punched out of him as Nancy hits her proverbial target. Although she does wish she could actually punch him sometimes. Which is why it almost feels like a small triumph when she watches the poorly-obscured implication settle over him. 

Another tear breaks from its hold. He uses the back of his sleeve to wipe his face and drag it across his sniffling nose. Absolutely disgusting, but she doesn’t say anything, even though she desperately wants to offer him a tissue from her car.

“He was just upset because of the–”

“‘The shitty weed?’” Nancy finishes for him, quoting Robin’s awful excuse from earlier. “Do you mean Argyle’s personal stash?” It’s the best marijuana Nancy’s ever smoked, although that only includes Eddie’s wrinkled joints he re-discovers in random pockets and bags.

When Eddie opens his mouth, she’s already one step ahead of his ridiculous arguments. “And don’t you dare say he was upset because he’s homophobic.”

She hears the click of his teeth for how hard his jaw snaps closed. Nancy slips her hand down from his wrist and slides her fingers between his. This time when she squeezes, he squeezes back.

“He’s straight, Nance. You should know that better than anyone.” He sniffles and– to her horror– doesn’t let go of her hand when he uses the same arm to wipe his face again. God, men are animals. At least she’s never had to watch Robin pick her nose, even though the way she flosses is pretty graphic.

She sighs, throwing her arms around him in a hug, if not to get away from his snotty hands. “Seemed pretty upset for a straight best friend.” Nancy kisses him on the cheek before pulling away, making her way back down the stairs toward her car. “But you’re right, I would know better than anyone how Steve could feel right now.”

Driving home, she hopes her message landed, that maybe she’s helped and not overstepped. Especially when it comes to Steve. She can’t bear to see him heartbroken again, up close and personal in a way she selfishly distanced herself from last time. 

But she thinks, unlike the last time, Steve has a chance to be truly happy with someone who loves him more than anything in the world. The chance to be with someone who wants to take care of him, and be doted on in return. She’s finally found that in Robin, and she damn well knows Eddie’s the one for Steve. So if it means she toed the line on saying too much, then it’ll all be worth it if it’s the nudge Eddie needs to find his courage.

~~~

I always upload to Tumblr first but follow on ao3 if you prefer

Part 3

Tag List: (lmk if you'd like to be added/removed!)

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@allyricas @devondespresso @me-ig7 @unorphaned-in-our-northern-lghts @scoops-aboy86

[mediumgayitalian]

When Lee and Michael pull him from Chiron's exceptionally dry Ancient Greek lessons, Will is excited. When they drag him down, ducking, behind the stables, as other campers walk by, he is intrigued. When they guide him all the way back to their cabin, sit him on his bed, and then drag two stools to sit across from him, silently, he is still excited.

A little nervous, now.

But excited.

"Will," Michael says, solemn. He presses his fist to his mouth, eyes carefully blank. "Will, you are almost ten years old, now."

Will bounces on his mattress, grinning. "Yeah! I'm nine and fifty-six seventy-thirds." He peers at his brothers hopefully, trying to lessen his fidgeting and appear Regal and Adult. "Am I getting my Dad present early?"

Gods, he hopes so. He has been counting down the days -- every tenth birthday, for every kid, Camp-bound or not, Apollo sends them a gift of gold jewelry, smelted in the heat of the Sun by Holy Hephaestus, jewels handcrafted by the finest artisans on Olympus, blessed by yours truly. Will has been watching in seething jealousy as Michael's signet ring glints every time he pulls back his bow, as Cass' hoops swing when she walks. He hopes the gift is earrings -- he finally convinced Michael to pierce his lobes a couple months ago, and he's tired of the ugly studs. Beckendorf made him promise to let him poke around at whatever Will gets, and Will has been itching to show him.

And to get the jewelry, obviously. That's priority number one.

Lee shakes his head slowly. "No. You will get your milestone when you get it." He exchanges a long, fearful look with Michael. Will picks at last summer's clay bead, with the trident on it. "Speaking of milestones…"

Michael makes a sudden, choked noise, covering his face with his hands and curling forward. Will startles. Lee sighs, looking down for a moment as well. When he looks up again, he meets Will's wide eyes with his teary ones, and places a supportive hand on Michael's back.

"Will…" he looks out to the open window, shaking his head slightly. When he looks back, his face is creased in apology, and his eyes are ringed with pity. Will feels his heart drop. "Have you chosen someone, yet?"

"Chosen?" Will straightens, fists twisting in his shorts. "Chosen someone for what?" Michael makes another strangled wailing noise. Will's breath hitches, and his ears white out. "Lee, tell me! Tell me now!"

"We are a Greek camp," Lee says, finally. "An ancient Greek camp. With ancient Greek customs, kiddo."

He says it softly, apologetically. Like the time a seagull swooped down and stole Will's ice cream, right from his hands, on the beach last week. Will recognizes the hopeless tone of his voice and his heart drops.

"How much did they tell you about…our customs?"

"I didn't listen to the admissions video!" Will confesses, panicked. "I'm sorry! It was so boring! There were a bajillion music numbers and they were all kind of bad no offense and the screen made my eyes hurt and I missed my mom and --"

"Will," Michael says, voice shaking. He meets Will's eyes and Will is horrified to see they are wet.

He has never seen Michael cry before -- not even once.

"It's okay, Will. Some people don't know."

"Tell me," Will begs. "Am I being sacrificed?"

To his great relief, both his brothers laugh, waving dismissive hands as they chuckle. Will sags into his pillows.

"Oh, no, gods no. That would be barbaric." Lee wipes a tear from his eyes. "C'mon, Will, we're a little more civilized than that." He smiles encouragingly. Will smiles, hesitantly, back. "You're getting married."

It takes a long enough moment for the sound to travel and the word to register that Will is sure his hearing aids have gone wonky. He taps them, as though it will do anything, and tilts his head.

"I didn't hear you right. What did you say?"

"Married," Michael repeats. "By age 10, like all people had to do back then." He and Lee exchange another weighted look. "That, or you have to marry Mr. D." He rushes to assure at Will's panicked shriek; "Only if you don't choose someone in time. You have until you turn ten, so don't worry. I'm sure you'll find someone in time. You'll have most of the summer, anyway."

There is a moment where Lee and Michael murmur to each other, nodding. "Yeah," Lee says, mostly to himself. "You'll be fine." To which Michael responds: "Of course, of course. I mean, we did it."

Will sits there, frozen.

"I can't get married!" he cries, coming back to himself. He begins to hyperventilate. "I'm -- nine! I'm a kid!" He looks to his older brothers, blue eyes big and watery. "I don't even know how to file my taxes yet!"

Lee and Michael are sympathetic. They move forward, immediately, one on either side of him; Lee slides a squeezing hand around his shoulders, Michael pats him on the leg.

"It'll be fine, squirt," Lee soothes. He gestures across them. "I mean, me and Michael found somebody. It all worked out."

"You're married?" Will chokes out. His breaths come quick and shallow, despite Lee's comforting hand. "Michael is married?!"

"Watch it, twerp," Michael warns, at the same time as Lee says: "It was a challenge and a half, but yeah, Michael is married."

Will glances quickly down. There is no ring on either of their left hands, but they must notice him looking, because Michael snorts, pinching him on the knee.

"We just told you it's an ancient Greek custom, dumbass. Rings were invented later. We just…" He makes an incomprehensible gesture with his ringless hand. "Followed the book, completed the rite, etc, etc. Boom. Matrimony."

Lee nods. He rubs Will's shoulder a final time, encouragingly, before pulling away enough to give him space to breathe.

"You'll find someone, Will. We just thought we'd warn you because it didn't look like you remembered yourself, and we don't want you to have to…well."

Will shudders. Vaguely, in the back of his blurry, blurry memory, he can recall someone saying something in a video somewhere about partners and their importance in Camp. He had not paid attention, and he curses himself for it, now -- he almost had to marry Mr. D. Mr. D. who is rude, who smells like vinegar, who always has something in his teeth, who sleeps all day and drools more than a waterfall, who scares the satyrs on purpose and never even says sorry. Who is mean and gross and the worst ever.

"Thank you," Will says, tearfully. He grips his brothers' hands in his small fists and shakes from his spot between them, almost-life flashing in front of his eyes. If his brothers hadn't warned him, Mr. D. would have made him rub his stinking feet and feed him grapes for all eternity for sure. There wouldn't even be breaks for episodes of Star Trek. He shudders. "Thank you."

His brothers return the half-hug, although Michal sighs about it. He is too short to see the smirks they flash above his head.

"Anytime, twerp."

-- -- --

next

[kiivg]

.And I get down with crooked men, but I am the boy I've always been.

[nooneinparticularrrr]

I have a drawer full of unsent letters . Words that held so much of me in them but never read. Some labeled to people I’ve yearned to reconnect with, some to dead friends I never got to say goodbye too, and even more are just simple untitled. Writing like my life depended on it. Like every unspoken word was holding my breathe hostage. Every emotion and sense of my being poured into pages that have been left sitting and collecting dust.

And for every page I’ve filled there has been hundreds more that filled my head. There is not enough time , ink, or sheets of paper that could ever truly encapsulate all the things I will never get to say. Just unspoken bits of yourself you try and hold on too. The only validation that exists is your own.

From February 16 to 17, 1913 Letters to Felice by Franz Kafka First published : 1973

[ed-died688]

CHRISTMAS EVE

Get it because all he wants for christmas is

IM GOING TO CHEW ON THE GIFT PAPER NOW HAPPY HOLIDAYS MAY YOUR DAY BE JOLLY AND STOCKINGS FILLED WITH GIFTS🗣🗣📢📢📢‼️‼️📢‼️📢‼️‼️‼️🗣‼️‼️🗣‼️📢‼️📢‼️📢‼️📢🦖

[fluffyartbl0g]

ITS THAT TIME OF THE YEAR AGAIN!!! 2023 was so warm and cutesy so i thot why not choose more cold cool colours this yr? BOOM back in the 2021 colours but i still prefer the look of a warmer pink to be honest... (◞ ‸ ◟ ; ) and i also like colouring with more vibrant colours... BUT THIS MARKS THE START OF MY NEW ART YEAR RESOLUTION!!! I want to draw with more colours out of my comfort zone next year >:O I wanna start thinking more about my value compositions, and I wanna draw more backgrounds!!!!! I made a mental resolution last year to be more confident at drawing noses and im def getting there (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧

Also I was so damn tiyurd of tryna find out another way to funkify that simple turtleneck n weird ass purple pant combo so i finally caved n changed the fit up a little this yr....

2018 2019 2020 2021 2022 2023

[bayetea]

there's something really bizarre about what may or may not be excessive wariness of adultifying black girls that's resulted in not only treating hazel like some moronish baby but sweeping oversimplification of the person that she is. by refusing to observe hazel in a more mature light (and by this I only mean taking her seriously) there's a pervasive dumbing down of her character in the fandom that really does not occur as much for other characters. she's 14 in hoo. not 13. she's 15 in toa. for comparison the second youngest member of the prophecy 7 is jason, who was 15 himself for the first half of hoo and does not experience nearly as much character infantilization by the fandom at large

as a hazel enjoyer it's all pretty disappointing; I see so much to appreciate and unpack in the frankly gothic nature of her story but when I go looking for hazel fanworks (not just fanfics but fanart, headcanons, hazel ships, textposts to reblog, etc) I can't help but sense an unwillingness to just THINK about how her experiences might impact her. there's little more regard for hazel in the fandom than her merely being nico's cute and sweet little sister. and she is cute and she is sweet that much is true. she also grew up during jim crow while black and was violently bullied and killed herself and her mother when she was 13 years old. genuinely I don't understand reading horrific parts of her story like this and thinking that she's just a cute and soft tweenaged girl and not much else

like let's just be candid about this - abused and neglected children are forced to grow up fast (something that will almost inevitably have consequences in their adulthood). they are forced to be mature in ways that other kids aren't. hazel is not written like a "normal" 14 year old in part because she is not a normal 14 year old. you don't spend your life consciously wasting away in asphodel surrounded by ghosts and rejoin the living as a normal teenager. she was mistreated her entire life by everyone but sammy and then she died. and upon her resurrection the nature of her quest is more horrific than anyone else's - she has to "redeem" herself for helping gaea+giving her mom asphodel in the eyes of the underworld judges by killing herself again. that's literally what going on the son of neptune quest is for hazel; freeing thanatos = he takes her back to the underworld. there could not be a more literal confrontation of her discordant mortality than this. the only reason her life doesn't end that way is because of pluto's leniency towards his own children, and the narrative does nothing to justify something so objectively unjustifiable. even positing this as pluto's self-redemption of his failure to protect her in her first life, rather than hazel's own self-redemption, would have been something but hoo simply doesn't resolve this glaring conflict about its messagings on the unchangeable nature of life/death. but that's a post for another day

I cannot emphasize enough that hazel is every bit as deep and angsty as popular SadBoy™ characters like nico and leo but the interest in her sorrow and complexities is simply not there. this is not an insult to nico/leo themselves but a notation of how SadGirls™ (especially black girls) will never receive comparable acknowledgment of their miseries or the way said miseries have impacted them. hazel is deeply contemplative and world-weary and struggles so much with alienation from the world around her - alienation from the modern world as a person of color from the segregated past, alienation from the living as an undead girl, alienation towards her own powers because they ruin lives, including her own. if you just observe her character and her story I think you'll find more meaning about how life is a thing to be cherished than anywhere else in the franchise

[booperbeanv3]

drawstuck #4: june edition

alt june shirt under cut

i jst thought it would be cute

[nooneinparticularrrr]

DAYDREAMING

I often find myself daydreaming about the day I get to come home to the love of my life. In that quiet little world we build together, I’d take care of the bills, and she’d handle the grocery shopping, not because it’s her job, but because I loathe it and secretly love carrying her bags, watching the way she lights up when she’s picked out our favorite things.

She’d have a job she loves, something that fills her soul, not just her wallet. Something that gives her both freedom and passion, and a little extra to spend on herself. Because even though I want to provide for her, I also want her to feel empowered, independent, alive in her own right.

If life goes according to plan, maybe we both get to retire early—sometime in my 40s, or 50s at the latest. And after long days where I have to wear a hardened exterior, coming home and melting into her arms would feel like the greatest gift. A sacred softness in a world that demands so much toughness.

I dream of creating a sanctuary with her—a peaceful chaos all our own, where nothing outside really matters. Where I get to care for her in ways only I can, learning her rhythms, her thoughts, her little tells. I want to study her, not just her body, but her mind, her soul. To understand how she sees the world, how she feels loved, and how I can meet her there, every time.

I crave a kind of intimacy that feels insatiable, the kind that scares me with its depth. I crave her—not just the version she shows the world, but the one she hides. And I know that to earn that vulnerability from her, I have to give her mine, completely. It’s terrifying how deeply I want to love and be loved like that.

But God, how beautiful it would be to fall into something so wild, so raw, so exquisitely fragile. To risk everything for something so rare. That’s the kind of love I want. That’s the kind of love I’m holding out for.

-T

[so-very-small]

every time you read a g/t story where the tiny faints repeatedly and you’re like “no one could possibly faint this much”, think of me, your local tiny who has a disability that involves fainting often. i personally love the representation of a person who drops like a sack of potatoes at the slightest inconvenience. like realistically if i ever met a giant i wouldn’t flirt or run or scream, i’d blink up at them and then hit the ground like

[sumnthingabouther]

⋆·˚ ༘ * boss! Abby x subordinate! fem! reader

nsfw towards the end

cw: slightly obsessive abby, implied inappropriate activity in a workplace. men and minors dni

Now you didn’t know this but Abby always had eyes for you, ever since you first joined the company a year and some months ago. initially you weren’t under her division, having been under someone else in the finance department. Meaning she had to watch you from afar. But god did she love it when she caught you in the morning. Your slightly tired face while you held your leather binder tightly in your arms. The way you shuffled to the elevator in your almost barely work appropriate skirts. One time you had made the mistake of bending over in front of her. Accidently bumping into her in the early morn as you were making your way to your cubicle, causing all your papers to scatter across the ground. Apologies fell from your mouth profusely while work to get your fallen papers off the ground.

“Its all good, here let me help you with that.” The offer came from a genuine place, however when she saw you bent over in that extremely short skirt, a flip in her switched. After helping you she watched you scurry away, a smirk plastered across her face. God how she wished she could get a view like that again.

She spent months remembering your schedule, what time you got to work. what time you got lunch. what time you clocked out. Everything…. in a non creepy way of course she just wanted to see more of you. As time went on she began to grow antsy , simply knowing your schedule wasn’t enough for her anymore she wanted to keep a close eye on you. Eventually, she had some strings pulled getting you to transfer under her. It was better this way, she needed to keep an eye on you.

You never knew why you got transferred over to her so suddenly, but the position you were offered was much higher than your previous one and the pay was so much better. You took it with no second thought. Plus you were already well acquainted with Anderson, working under her would be a breeze. Or so you thought.

You began to notice how she would hover over you, initially you thought it was her making sure you were adjusting properly. “Just making sure you’re doing okay, don’t be afraid to step by my office if you need anything.” Then came the passive aggressive attitude towards your coworkers that got a little to got to close to you. Noticing how she scowled and folded her arms that flexed under her dress shirt when they walked away. “She can handle that just fine, if she needed your help she would’ve asked.”

Then came the day you dreaded, getting called into her office out of nowhere. your anxiety skyrocketed as you made your way down the hallway, heels clacking against the cold ceramic floor. Your hand hovered over the door knob of her office door, taking a breath before opening it. Abby welcomed you in, the tone of her voice was surprisingly soft which made you relax a bit, and to your surprise she spoke highly of you.

“As much as i love praising you, lets cut to the chase.” her tone immediately dark. fuck here it comes, you were so getting fired. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Wait huh? Abby shot up from her desk, she was circling you now with a dangerous glint in her eyes.

“E..excuse me? Ms. Anderson-” “Abby is fine,” she interrupted. “—and you heard me clearly, you’re a smart girl aren’t you? You can put two and two together.” She was taunting you now, and as much as you tried to hide it, it turned you on so bad.

“Now do me a favor doll, and lock my door for me.”

[toyboy-molloy]

"What?"

Henry quickly looked away, shrugging, "what?"

"I haven't been to the barber yet, alright?" Hans rubbed at his growing stubble thoughtfully, "don't worry, I'm getting rid of it."

"Aye, that's probably for the best," Henry sighed, gazing at Hans wistfully, "I've hardly gotten any work done since you've had that."

Hans pouted unsympathetically, "that's not like you, Henry. You always seem able to keep yourself busy," he playfully dragged his foot up Henry's leg underneath the table, keeping his expression neutral, "I hate to think I'm hindering your efforts."

"I'm sorry to say, sir, that is all your fault," Henry said with a solemn nod, looking around to make sure they were alone before adding in a low voice, "you see, I've not been able to stop polishing my helmet long enough to be of any help to anyone."

Hans almost choked on his sip of ale.

[eulaliasims]

Queer people have always been here and we always will be. Happy Pride.

[javierduffy]

ch2 javi gives boaz a chili pepper leaf once as a treat (because javier himself loves chili peppers) and the capsaicin gives him a tummy ache but javi doesn’t know that capsaicin is bad for horses so he has no idea what the problem is and is freaking out a bit so he very incredibly begrudgingly drags himself to kieran, whom he knows probably will have an answer, and kieran is like “he just has a tummy ache, he’s okay :)” and javi is so unbelievably embarrassed but kieran was so nice to him that he’s also a little … charmed ?

[not-equippedforthis]

thinking about a telepathic alien species managing to somehow get aboard the ship in revenge and apprehend kirk in his quarters, trying to wrench kirk's consciousness from him. thinking of it cutting his ability to speak, in his brain, leaving the rest of the ship - ticking away, everyone going about their daily jobs - completely unaware as the captain fights for his life. thinking of kirk's soul screaming, the ripping of it so intense it sends out a signal so bright it almost knocks spock off his feet. spock getting a wave of jim gold kirk green jim jim violent jim pain danger that blasts through his shields right in the middle of the science lab whilst he's talking to some ensign about bromide properties. spock immediately hauling it down the corridors. spock reaching kirk just in time to shield his beaten mind. a small bond remaining between them that spock, for once in his life, cannot fathom how to address.