#the grumpy old man with the turtleneck

[iszapizza]

I think im hilarious by adding this song to terry’s playlist

[queenimmadolla]

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You surprise Eddie with your baby's first trick-or-treat costume. Spoiler alert: she's adorable.

a/n: for maisie 🩷

more penny and Eddie here

“I’m waitiiiiiiiiing.” Eddie sang out from the couch, tugging at the neck of the cream colored turtleneck you’d guilted him into wearing. It wasn’t as bad as the sweater he had to wear with it. Truly the ugliest thing he had ever seen. 

  It was so ugly, it offended him and he was a little grumpy about it, which you teased was appropriate considering he was supposed to be dressed as Bert from Sesame Street. 

  Yeah. Sesame Street. 

  The (totally) gay puppets.

“You’ll have to get close.” Eddie had threatened when you pulled out eyeliner, not to line his eyes like you did before one of his shows or a date night, but to link his brows together in the most unrealistic looking unibrow ever. 

  Once upon a time, up until like two Halloweens ago, Eddie had used this day to be completely and thoroughly chaotic. Messy. Well, as messy as the social pariah could be on Halloween. So just really drunk, maybe high—sometimes both—making out with someone who wouldn’t acknowledge his existence the following day (and he was very grateful for you for breaking the curse on that last carefree Halloween). But that was the old Eddie Munson.

  Gone was the Eddie Munson that either went all out–in leather, eyeliner and fake blood–or barely tried with some devil horns and a bad sense of humor for halloween to deal weed and drugs, smoke weed and drink til he threw up, or get fucked. Granted, he wasn’t going through this change alone. 

  Your opportunities to party on Halloween night with your friends–having all gotten ready together for the big, slutty night out–drinking ‘til you were stupid only to wake up on your bedroom floor (sometimes not even yours and on one year, the top of your neighbor’s car) with no real repercussions were no more.

  Your days as primarily careless teenagers and now young adult were over, replaced with enjoying the night in a way you were both surprised to find that you didn’t hate, even as early twentysomethings. 

  Hell, the both of you were eager–even if Eddie had to wear a lame costume. He’d wanted to be Ernie, at least.

  “Shut up!” You called back from the bedroom. Eddie snickered at the amusement hidden under your voice and shifted until he was lounging on his side, arm propped up with his hand.

  “Still waitiiiiiiiing!”

  You’d been hiding a certain costume from him for the past three weeks, and the anticipation was killing him.

  “You are the most impatient man I have ever met.” 

  “I just gotta have you, baby.” Came his immediate response and his grin widened when he realized he didn’t even have to think up replies for your quips, it just came natural now. He knew you that well. Still made him giddy and want to kick his feet in the air.

  He loved being married to you. Sue him.

  “Okay, here we come!” You announced and Eddie scrambled to sit up straight, eagerly leaning forward to get an early peak. 

  You walked down the short hall, dressed in a striped sweatshirt, jeans with the bottoms rolled into cuffs and a pair of red converse. Ernie. But Eddie already knew what your costume was, it was a couple’s costume and you were indeed a couple. 

  It was who you were glancing back at, just out of his line of sight, that held his curiosity. 

  “C’mon, baby. Go show daddy!”

  At your prompting, your baby–just a couple of months over a year old–came waddling out, footsteps awkward as she got used to the orange duck feet covering her own and the padding and stuffing of her yellow duck costume, clutching a bottle you’d given her to keep her from fussing while you got her dressed. Her curly little head and chunky cheeks were framed in the hood of the costume, with the duck’s  head resting on hers.

  “Are you kidding me?” Eddie asked, mouth dropping open as his eyes darted from his cute little spawn in her adorable costume to your smug expression and back, “Are you joking? OH MY GOD!”

  Eddie reached his arms out to Penny, fingers curling into his fists as he made grabby hands, “You are so precious, my little baby, come to daddy!”

  Penny was delighted with his praise, drooly mouth dropping open and big brown eyes sparkling as she rushed forward. Her lack of coordinated motor skills paired with the duck feet and the padding of her duck bottom throwing her equilibrium off meant she immediately lost her balance and you and Eddie both inhaled sharply, quickly rising to attention as she wobbled forward briefly, then fell back on her cushioned tail feathers.

  It was far from a dangerous fall, so you and Eddie stood frozen, waiting for her response so as to not sway her to have a certain response, having taken her to the doctor’s after a fall once only to learn she was perfectly fine and had only started crying because you had. 

  You both learned real quick to wait for her response after falling, sometimes she cried and had a boo boo that Daddy and Mommy could fix with some first aid and a kiss, and other times she'd run right into the wall, get up, and walk away (albeit while muttering in angry baby gibberish).

  Penny blinked once, eyes flying from your face to her dad’s before she wiggled her bum against the floor, set her bottle down next to her and tried to stand up. 

  You both let out matching sighs of relief before Eddie darted forward to scoop her up.

  “Are you rubber ducky?” Eddie asked once he had her situated in his arms. All she did was give him that big, beautiful smile of hers (no longer gummy with the teeth she had coming in but thinking about that made Eddie teary eyed) before her attention strayed to his long curls and her chunky little fist flew out to grab some of it, staring it down before she put it in her mouth.

  “Say, yes, baby.” You encouraged her after picking up her bottle, hand tucking in one of her curls peaking out.

  “Yesh.” She parroted, mouthing aggressively at the hair in her fist. While she was distracted, Eddie took the opportunity to press kisses into her cheek, smothering her in them until she grew annoyed and snapped her head in his direction, mouth wide in protest.

  “Sor-ry!” He huffed, still grinning as he pressed another one into her soft cheek. She was all talk  and no bite. Mostly.

  “What does the duck say, baby?” You asked, trying to prompt her. She could do some of the animal sounds and she’d gotten the duck right a few times.

  “Moooo.” And sometimes she moo’d.

  “That is one interesting duck.” Eddie commented and you shushed him.

  “No, baby. Quack.”

  “Cack.”

  Your heart dropped into your stomach. “Okay, that’s a little too close to–we’ll stick with moo.”

  You grabbed her trick-or-treat bag, a disposable camera and a couple of other things you thought you might need to take her trick-or-treating for the first time, while Eddie continued to coddle her, only putting her down when you were all ready to go. 

  Penny was little miss independent until she caught sight of the steps outside of the trailer. Then she whimpered, dropped her bottle and turned to Eddie, shoving herself at his legs as she reached her little arms up to him.

  “Up! UP! Up!”

  It was mean of him, really it was, because Penny was genuinely afraid of the steps but that also meant she demanded her daddy hold her in his arms, and that wasn’t really a loss for him so he hoped she’d hang onto that fear for a while before she got inventive and found another way to climb down them without him.

  Eddie picked her up and she curled into his chest, chin on his shoulder as she clung to him with the duck head on her hood hitting the side of his face. He was trying to hide his smile but it was much too large to conceal and you glared at him with no malice, more amused with Eddie than anything.

  “It’s okay, sweetpea. Daddy will protect you from those big, mean steps.”

  He cackled as you shook your head with a smile. 

  “You are so messed up, capitalizing off of her fear.”

  “Hey–it’s easy for you, she still demands and needs your boob. Did you see her refuse my kisses in there? I’m fighting for her affection here. And I’m gonna keep doing it, as soon as she gets over her fear of steps, I’m telling her a monster lives underneath them. Now, let's go get some candy I’ll also eat on her behalf.”

  He bounded cheerfully out the door, Penny bouncing in his arms while you locked up behind him and called out in your laughter.

  “And using your baby for candy–oh, you’ve got to choke tonight. I’ll save you, but you’ve got to choke.”

  Eddie paused, waiting for you to catch up as his lips curled into smirk in a very Grinch like manner and you groaned, eyes squeezing shut as you realized what he was implying without having to verbalize it. 

  “I mean, I’d be happy to arrange that–”

  “Keep walking, Bert. We only have an hour and a half so we’d better get a move on if you want a decent amount of candy to steal from your own baby.”

  “I’m not above taking candy from any baby.” He confirmed leaning down just as you leaned up to meet in a kiss, the both of you smiling into it. It was brief, ending when Penny accidentally pecked the both of you with the head of her costume.

[annwrites]

—sugar & spice

and have you left a seat for me? is that such a stretch of the imagination? — ordermember!snape x hufflepuff!reader ; ⋰⸙͎⋱

↳ read

You wrap an arm around his own, and immediately feel a firm tug behind your navel. The next moment finds the two of you standing in the middle of a hall within Grimmauld Place, and your stomach roiling.

You groan, turning into his chest, pressing your forehead to it.

He slides a hand up your back. "Would you've rather we walked? All the way from Cokeworth?"

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the feeling to pass, worried if you open your mouth that naught else will come out but vomit.

He'll certainly be pleased with you then.

As if it'd be the first time...

He sighs. "Come. Let us see what Molly has in the kitchen."

You stand on tiptoes, wanting into the top cabinet, too stubborn to use your wand, until Snape's chest presses to your back, retrieving the box of peppermint tea for you, holding it before you.

You flush and take it from him, with a soft 'thank you'.

You can practically hear his eyes roll.

You push yourself up, onto the counter just behind where Severus seats himself at the table, crossing your feet at the ankles, contentedly sipping at your drink, waiting for the other members to arrive.

And it's just then that Molly and Arthur enter the room, the older woman giving you kisses on both cheeks, telling you how good it is to see you, Arthur pulling you into a hug.

You smile warmly in return, and Arthur nods politely at Severus, while molly inquires if there is anything she can get for him.

He, predictably, replies no.

Not long after the two of them, Sirius passes through the entryway, a slight grin settling onto his lips when he takes in the sight that is you, in a neutral plaid strappy dress, a black turtleneck underneath, boots on your feet.

And you're snacking on candy corn of all things.

Horrid treat, really. At least in his opinion.

He gently grips your chin, brushing his thumb along it.

"It's good to see you, love," he says, stepping away.

You nod. "You as well."

You are not remiss in noticing how Severus bristles at the exchange, even if his back is turned to the two of you.

You lean over and strain to turn the sink on, and with a wave of your wand, small ducks begin floating through the air toward him, quietly quacking, until they turn into a barrage of hearts popping in front of his face.

With a quick flick of your wand, the water is shut off, just as he turns abruptly around, staring at you.

You give him a look of innocence. "What is it, darling?"

He huffs, rolling his eyes, turning back to the table, and you smirk.

Severus is pleased in seeing Sirius' smile quickly disappear then, if nothing else.

once a student at hogwarts, you leave the wizarding world once graduating to return to the muggle one. after six years of feeling out-of-place and unhappy with your lot, however, you choose to come back, finding employment within hogsmeade and a small cottage to live in.

and then the day comes where you run into an old, favorite professor of yours in the village, and the two of you begin doing business together.

albeit bright and bubbly, you are still terribly lonely...while severus himself has always been. and, so, like asphodel in the spring, a friendship begins to bloom (if not reluctantly on one's party's end), which slowly & gradually turns into something more. something unexpected.

and, through both your ties to severus, and your friendship with tonks, you join the order, vowing to do what you can to help, refusing to stand by as those you care for risk their lives to defend the world you have come to love and call home.

headcanons:

grumpy x sunshine

reader has a major sweet-tooth

reader is a good friend of tonks, &, through her, met sirius

at one time, she & sirius had had a flirtation, which snape knows about. he'd been a bit resentful when she'd told him about it, but after reassuring him that he is the man she is with and whom she loves, that resentment had faded. even if he still feels paranoid at times that he'll lose her to someone more...easy-going.

[rederiswrites]

I know I'm a day late and a dollar short, but I guess I haven't been Visibly Genderqueer in a while. So sure. I can talk about my trans-adjacent experience.

That's the thing, though. I am not. Visibly genderqueer, that is. If you're a traditionalist, you'd definitely notice that I utterly and completely fail to perform femininity--but then, you also might not. People tend to be very focused on specific features and assume gender and stick with that. My neighbor used to get grumpy because even though she routinely dressed her sons in camo and sports gear, they both had long, beautiful hair, and were both id'd by strangers as girls very regularly. Me, I have big breasts and wide hips, thick thighs, a cute, upturned nose, a fairly conventionally attractive face, and I top out at 5 foot 3 (160cm). I know perfectly well what basically anyone around here sees when they look at me.

They see a woman, married to a man (a very Manly man, at that, both in appearance and habits), with two children. I know that. Even though I am out to anyone who's been around long enough to hear me mention it, I haven't asked for a pronoun change. For me, it's just too much bother. It'd be different if my nonbinary experience were different, but I'm agender. I just don't have a connection of any sort with gender. It's just a sort of void space, a blank incomprehension, though I can observe that This Thing matters a great deal to nearly everyone else.

Well, there's a reflexive avoidance. Long before I had heard words like genderqueer or agender or even trans (when I was young, these words were limited to the queer community for the most part, and certainly not used where I lived), I had a reflexive avoidance of all things feminine. It wasn't a thought. I just knew that I absolutely did not want to wear lace, or pink, or ruffles--yes, we still wore ruffles in the 80's. My freshman year high school picture appears to be a fresh-faced ten year old boy, with short hair, a red and white striped turtleneck, and brown corduroy overalls. But I didn't have thoughts for that, only a feeling.

I envy younger people their confidence that people can and should and will treat them according to their personal relationship with gender. Maybe at 42 I am too old to learn that optimism, even though things are changing so much. I think about going by they/them, and it sounds like teaching multiple overlapping communities how to handle the idea of an agender person. Exhausting. Even though there are trans people in some of my in-person communities, and those communities are making honest efforts to welcome that, a person who just doesn't have any attachment to gender at all feels like going even further back to the beginning, undoing even more of their basic beliefs about the world. Ah, yes, you've begun to accept that sometimes the categories of "man" and "woman" can flip around. Now, how would you like to just reject the entire notion that people necessarily have gender? How would you like to just trash-bin one of the defining elements of Self?

And all this effort, over a concept I don't understand at all. It just doesn't feel worth it.

I am me. My name is Red. I look like this, and I like how I look. It comes with assumptions. Many of those assumptions are wrong. Some of them chafe. But I do not have the time or energy to individually disabuse people of every wrong assumption. I'll just live the way I live, and if that shatters a few assumptions along the way, all the better. And honestly, if you're calling me she or her, I'm probably not there to be bothered by it anyway.

[vexia]

(Repost because of my own stupidity...)

I did a quick sketch of Cody Morocco design, so sorry about a meesiness of it, bad anatomy and disproportions but it is normal with me anyway.

Oh and Quickclaw was supposed to be extremly fluffy but because it’s only a dumb sketch made between my learning sessions for the exams I forgot to add it, so please imagine as if it was there XD

Personally, I like the idea of Cody and Morocco contrasting in the color palette of their clothes. While both elegant due to their ‘status’, Morocco wears a dark suit with a light shirt, Cody wears a light jacket suit with a dark turtleneck. What they have in common are red accessories. It's a bit like the clash of vintage/modern and their personalities, the grumpy old man and the eternal sunshine.

During one of the conversations, Frankie asked Cody if he was too hot in that turtleneck (it was around 19℃/66.2°F). He only replied that in his home island the temperature is 22-26℃/ 71.6-78.8°F all year round, so it is relatively cool here in comparison (however, he gave up wearing a suit jacket after the first two days).

[ethanesimp]

THE OAK TREE // ZERO E.T. 

Pairing: Ethan Torchio x GN! Reader

Summary: Everyone at the Oakes Academy is aware of the rivalry that exists between two of the school’s best students, Ethan Torchio and Y/N L/N. What nobody knows is what a brilliant team they are when they’re at risk of their reputations being damaged and a killer’s on the loose.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Just Ethan and Y/N behaving like children, mentions of killing someone (as a joke), swearing.

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

TEASER

A/N: This is the first chapter of The Oak Tree! I hope you guys enjoy :) Huge thanks to @night-girl-301​ for proofreading this and cheering me on! I was like... scared as shit to post it so yeah.

Taglist (strike means it won’t let me tag you):  @oro-e-diamanti @gretavanfleetlove @victoriadeangeliswifey @cheese-toastie-11 @selenophiliaxx @superchrystaldrug @petit-poussin @bidet-and-legolas @fallingforyou123 @ethaneskin @soft-boy-ethan @teenyweenynightghost @reputationdamiano @cantaraiilmionome @tabi-toast @queen-of-brokenhearts @geklutst-ei @juststalking @cruz-ata @ohtorchio​ @ethan-torchio-angelo​ @unitermoonshine​ @everythingisdefinitelynotfine​

It was only a few minutes past two-thirty when you managed to open the door that led to the greenhouse. The key, more often than not, would get stuck in the lock, and you’d have to spend a few minutes trying to yank it free, but this time around luck seemed to be on your side.

You placed your large black backpack on the stool that was always by the door before closing the entrance again. Mr. Murphy was still watering the plants, completely oblivious to your presence thanks to the loud music coming from the small stereo he kept near the gardening tools. You tapped his shoulder gently not to startle him; it wouldn’t be the first time you’d come into the place unannounced and you didn’t want to be the reason why he had to walk around with a cast on his arm again. 

He smiled fondly at you and adjusted his large glasses that were starting to slide down his nose. Mr. Murphy was an old man with long white hair and kind blue eyes, he’d been in charge of the greenhouse at the Oakes Academy for almost twenty years and had been the first person to show you kindness after you first arrived at the place years back.

“I thought I told you to take the afternoon free, Y/N,” He shook his head disapprovingly and you could only shrug. You had to work at the greenhouse at least three hours a week to maintain your scholarship per the Academy’s rules and it’d been long since it stopped being a task and instead became your favorite part of each day. 

“We were let out of Philosophy earlier so I thought I’d come by before I go study. Can I help with anything?” The older man sighed but nodded. He adjusted his glasses once again and wiped the dirt from his jeans.

He pointed at the corner where all the pink anthuriums were kept, shielded from direct sunlight, “Please water those, put a bit of fertilizer on the ones that arrived on Wednesday, and if you’ve got time, can you please feed the worms?” 

“Sure thing, anything else?”

“Just those three things. I’ve got to go help unload the groceries so please lock up both doors once you’re done,” He asked with a smile on his face as he buttoned his coat and grabbed his walking cane from where he’d dumped it on the floor right next to him. Back when you’d only known him for a few days, you’d always rushed to his side to pick up his cane and help him, but quickly realized it was a thing that annoyed him because of how independent and stubborn he was. “Oh and, before I forget, the kid’s outside. I don't want to come back and see you two trying to tear each other's heads off."

A laugh escaped past your lips and you shook your head as you tilted your head to the side so you could look through the hole in one of the windows. Just like he’d said, the boy with the long hair was sitting outside by the oak tree reading a book. You looked back at Mr. Murphy and shrugged, "No promises."

"I'm serious. You're smart Y/N, and I'm pretty sure you could easily find something you've got in common. That much hatred isn't good for either of you." Those were Mr. Murphy's last words before he walked out of the room.

You stood by the plants for a few minutes as you played around with the headphones that hung around your neck. You’d already sort of been startled by the topic you’d seen during Philosophy that day and you hoped that being at the greenhouse would serve as a little distraction but Mr. Murphy’s words hadn’t helped much.

You huffed and looked around for the hose to water the pretty anthuriums to get your mind off of everything that had gone down that day.

-

Hours later, you were still unable to shake Mr. Murphy’s words off. It wasn’t the first time he’d insisted on voicing his thoughts against that rivalry you had going on with the person standing between you and your biggest dream coming true. The thing that pissed you off though, was that his words had reminded you of what your best friend, Rory, had told you just the previous night while you did your usual hate rant. According to them, it was a good way to destress yourself.

You scoffed at the thought alone and let your chin rest on your palm as a frown appeared on your forehead. There was not a thing you could name that made you even remotely similar to the person sitting only a few feet away from you at the quiet school library. Ethan Torchio, a.k.a. Your archnemesis, the person you disliked the most in the face of the earth, was biting on the tip of his pencil as he concentrated hard on the thin black book he was holding up. Those dark eyes that shone honey whenever light hit them just right and those long strands of hair that graciously fell down his back accompanied by his signature turtlenecks and pretty smile were enough to make someone’s knees weak, but they only made you gag. 

You were sure he felt your eyes bore holes into the dark depths of his soul because it didn’t take long for him to look over his shoulder and meet your stare. Ethan smirked and his eyebrows shot up as he sent you a wink and a small wave. You knew that expression of his, he was teasing you, riling you up, hell, maybe he was trying to intimidate you. As crazy —and maybe a bit pathetic— as it made you sound, a simple smirk wasn’t just that when it came to him, never had been. Those dark eyes of his communicated his devilish intentions to you while he looked like an innocent child who’d never break a plate to anyone else.

You held his stare and mirrored his expression, which made him chuckle softly. It was nothing more than a silly game you’d play with one another to see who’d get tired of it first. The stare-off didn’t last too long that time around because his attention was stolen by one of his friends, Thomas. You simply shrugged and went back annotating on your copy of the black book. It was nothing more than one of those books written for the sole purpose of boring people to death. You loved reading, but when it came to those school-issued books that took around three pages to describe the sky-blue sofas in the main character’s living room, you couldn’t read more than a few pages before wanting to aggressively chuck it out the window. 

In a desperate attempt to distract yourself from the book that did nothing other than make you feel miserable, you stood up. You walked over to the large window that went from floor to ceiling. To your delight, the curtains were drawn back, which allowed sunlight to illuminate the otherwise dark library with its beautiful hues of orange and yellow. The librarian was a grumpy woman that loved when the curtains covered all the windows and blocked any source of light that wasn’t the soft glow of the lamps placed all over the dark room. You were almost convinced this woman had never felt the warmth of the sun against her pale and ashy skin, sometimes you even thought of her as a vampire that’d burn to death if she dared to stand outside for a few minutes. 

You looked out the window and admired the green gardens that adorned the front yard of the Academy’s largest building. The Oakes Academy was old and had been around since 1057. However, unlike most ancient schools like this one, the school board hadn’t been too interested in renovating the place outside of simply reinforcing the structure enough to fulfill the basic safety guidelines and the installation of optical fiber wires for a better internet connection. Even then, it was still considered to be one of the most prestigious schools to study at, and if it hadn’t been for the generous scholarship you were offered, you wouldn’t have been able to afford it anyway.

“Still plotting that little plan of yours to end the human race?” You bit down on your bottom lip to stop the colorful curse words from spilling as you turned sideways to look at Ethan. He’d decided to wear one of those annoyingly tight black turtlenecks of his and a pair of plaid trousers that made him look taller than he already was.

“Yes, and I’ll start with you first,” You smiled sarcastically at him, “In fact, I’ll swing by your dorm and murder you in your sleep,” You added while you choked the air for dramatic effect.

Ethan laughed and rolled his eyes. He had that spark of hate in his eyes that was always present when he was talking to you. That look alone told you that all that hatred and disgust you felt towards him was returned in the same magnitude. This rivalry of yours that consisted of dirty looks and constant arguments had been going on since eighth grade and it just seemed to get progressively worse as graduation approached. 

Everyone at Oakes knew how much Ethan and you despised each other, it wasn’t a secret. Even the Head Professor had been a witness of plenty of your many petty fights and you didn’t doubt that the people in charge of the Student Welfare department were sick of the many reports you’d filed against each other for breaking the ‘student rules of politeness’. No one remotely important cared much about your reports anyways because they were far from serious and, more often than not, childish.

“How cute. Although I don’t think that’d work too well for you, would it amore? If something were to happen to me they’d know it was you,” He commented. You shrugged and bit your lip in anger at the nickname he knew very well you detested. 

You casually leaned against the window, “Meh, it’d be worth it if I knew I wouldn’t have to see your face again. Now please get away before someone starts getting the sick idea that we’re friends.”

Ethan rolled his eyes but backed up a few steps either way, “God forbid someone would think such a horrific thing," He scoffed and raised his hand only to show you his middle finger when he knew the librarian wasn’t looking.

Before either of you could utter out another word, Damiano, one of Ethan’s closest friends, walked up to where you two were standing, effectively ending the conversation between you.

He waved at you and offered you a kind smile, which you immediately returned. Unlike his best friend, Damiano was a delight to be around. He was one of the kindest and nicest people you had ever met. You were quite close thanks to the fact that he’d been dating Rory for a while and you got used to spending long nights with the two of them doing silly things like playing board games or watching films. You were basically their third wheel, but neither of you minded much, if at all. 

“Hey, what’s up?” Damiano smacked Ethan on the shoulder as he started a conversation with him. You took it as your chance to leave and just awkwardly walked away after mumbling something about having to find Rory. They had told you something about eating dinner together, and while you’d initially refused because you were supposed to finish the book and start on your report, you were tempted to accept their offer and forget about the stupid book for a little bit more.

Just as you were about to leave the library, your phone vibrated inside the pocket of your warm cardigan. You took it out and chuckled when you read Rory’s message about their new phone but groaned when you realized they wanted to see you after curfew. You sighed and left the library as you tried to think of a great excuse to tell your roommate Emilia so she’d cover for you while you snuck out.

Ethan had his eyes focused on your figure as you left the library but turned back to look at Damiano when he spoke up, “If you’d only talk to them Ethan, I-” He sighed and interrupted his best friend, already irritated by the conversation he’d had with you.

“No, I will not talk to them, okay? Not like we can even talk because we start arguing like two toddlers,” Ethan mumbled out the last part and took a deep breath in. Truth be told, no part of him wanted to talk to you. You were annoying, rude, and didn’t seem to have more than one brain cell in his eyes, so why lose his time talking to you? Not like there’d be anything to talk about.

“They’re just so exasperating!” He spoke up and Damiano rolled his eyes as he saw his hate rant start approaching. They were both aware that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop, “I just- They try so hard and it’s annoying. Like I swear they’re also a huge hypocrite. I know you don’t see it but I do, I’ve never met anyone mo-”

Before he could end his last sentence, he felt a body slam into his and arms snake around his waist. Ethan huffed at the impact but wrapped his arms around her frame once he noticed it was Adeline Rossi, or Addie as everyone liked to call her. 

She pulled back and looked at both Damiano and Ethan excitedly, “You will never believe this but the craziest thing just happened… Hey, where’s Vic?” She trailed off as she started looking around for her friend.

Ethan chuckled lightly when he saw Thomas quietly approach Addie while she was distracted. They all knew she was the easiest person to scare, so it didn’t take more than a slight push and a soft boo for her green eyes to go wide and for her to jump. She was quick to turn to where Thomas was standing and didn’t think twice before smacking his shoulder with the heavy book she was carrying.

Thomas put his hands up in defeat as he took a step back and rubbed his shoulder, “Okay, okay shit. Stop, that actually hurts,” He whined and Addie only shrugged as Damiano and Ethan watched the whole interaction with amusement. 

“Right, so, ignoring all that,” Addie spoke up once again and shifted her attention back to Ethan, “Since she is nowhere to be seen, could you please help me with some stuff? It’s just this little interview for one class of mine and I’ve already interviewed Damià and Thomas but I need just one more.”

He nodded and said a quick goodbye to his two best friends before following the shorter girl out of the library. However, while he was walking, he felt his phone vibrate inside the pocket of his jeans. He fished it out and frowned as he read the text that had just been sent to him but laughed once he noticed it was only his girlfriend Emilia from her new phone. 

Then he sighed and rolled his eyes once he realized she wanted to see him past curfew again and he knew Will would ask him for money in exchange for not ratting him out. He quickly texted her back and slipped his phone back into his pocket as he followed Addie to her dorm.

Next

GOOGLE DRIVE 

[cloudywithachanceofjam]

Steve Arnott - Smut Alphabet

Ok so I started this earlier but tumblr deleted from my drafts.  I know it’s an old trend but I had fun.

Basically I had a couple of requests for Steve smut, but wasn’t sure how to approach it since our boy is still suffering from series 4 and I haven’t done the research to cover that yet (if anyone has any advice please drop me a message/ask). So this is all pre-series 4.

Obviously, NSFW under the cut. Enjoy ;)

A = aftercare

He’s surprisingly sweet and cuddly, nothing like the grumpy man you first met. He has slept around enough to have learnt to be attentive, he almost seems to read your mind but always checks with you anyway. Tries his hardest not to fall asleep until you’re settled, bless him.

B= body part

He’s an arse guy. An arse and thighs guy. So you can imagine his delight when you wear tiny little pyjama shorts around the flat. It usually results in him hauling you off to bed, not that he needs much encouragement to do that anyway.

As for himself, he’s pleased with his shoulders. He likes the way you brush specks of imaginary fluff off of them when you greet him, he likes the way you run your hands over them as you kiss him, he likes the way you dig your nails into them when you’re underneath him. 

C= cum

He’s not messy. Usually uses condoms.

Unless you ask him not to, in that case he’s happy to help clean you up afterwards, especially if it means he gets to shower with you.

D= dirty secret

Steven Arnott has fucked you at work before, and Steven Arnott will fuck you at work again. AC-12 just has too many quiet little office rooms to enjoy.

Hastings nearly caught the pair of you last time, however.

E= experience

Lots. He is a known ladies man, after all. You were a little intimidated by his extensive experience at first, but he knows just how to make you comfortable.

In fact, he knows exactly what to do, and he does it very well.

F= favourite position

Steve adores variety, but he does have a few favourites.

First of all, he likes you on top. He’s obsessed with the way you look when you ride him, he can admire all of you, touch all of you at once. It’s intoxicating.

Then again, he loves doggy. He is an arse and thighs guy, after all.

He also had you up against the wall once, you bracing yourself with his shoulders, him gripping your thighs. It was exhausting, but he thinks about it often.

G= goofy

It depends. He seems to alternate between keeping things serious and being more than a little cheeky. Have you seen that grin?

Some nights he’ll huff out a laugh as he gets his feet tangled in his trousers, both of you messy and amused. Other nights he’s serious, intense, and entirely wrapped up in you.

H= hair

He’s neat. Keeps things tidy down there. Bit vain, really.

I= intimacy

At first, he struggled with it. Perfectly attentive, really passionate, but still just a bit distant. As you both got more comfortable with each other, he let you in, and you let him in too. He’s quite the hopeless romantic under all the arrogance, and he displays his adoration through every touch, every caress.

J= jack off

If you’re away from him, or if he’s working on a case at all hours, then he can’t help himself. It’s stress relief, especially if he imagines you whilst he does it.

Usually doesn’t feel the need, however, you’re almost always eager to help him out.

K= kink

He’s curious and willing to get busy with you in almost any way you desire.

But he knows you like his dirty talk, and he enjoys the way he can make you squirm with just his voice. Some of the filth he murmurs into your ear, in between pressing kisses to your neck, your jaw - it makes you flush scarlet just to recall it the next day. He loves knowing that you’re thinking about it.

He also likes leaving marks. Nothing too much, just several lovebites, wherever he can, thighs, collarbone etc. Seeing you come into the office wearing a turtleneck and being the only one who knows what you’re hiding just does it for him.

L= location

Anywhere.

No, seriously. He is a shameless bastard.

He’s told you that he’s not into voyeurism but you hardly believe him with some of the stunts he’s pulled.

AC-12 office, twice. His service vehicle. Every single acceptable location in your flat (kitchen counter, wall, the bath, the shower, the couch). Kate’s flat (you pair crashed there after a night out).

He does like being comfortable though, he has no aversion to the bed.

M= motivation

It doesn’t take much. 

If he sees you in anything that isn’t your usual office-wear (though he thinks you look great in that too), it gets him going. Whether that’s a formal floor-length dress for an event, or just some cute pyjamas, he doesn’t mind. Just seeing you confident, comfortable, and happy is so sexy.

Equally, if he catches you when you’re really focused on something, head deep into your work, he finds it a challenge not to bother you since you just look so intense and dedicated and oh no....

Also, he can’t help himself if you’re flirty with him at work, or if you get sassy mid-conversation, especially if it’s in front of other people. Kate has called him “hopeless” after witnessing such an incident before.

N= NO

Whilst he is more of a classic man, there’s not much he wouldn’t try. However, he draws the line at anything too dangerous. He always requires a very enthusiastic “yes” and a discussion (however awkward he can be in such conversations) before the pair of you try anything new.

He also doesn’t like being tied up/chained down, it brings up bad memories. He’ll do it to you if you ask, and even enjoy it, but it isn’t something he wants for himself.

Finally, he would never share, but that feeling is mutual.

O= oral

Loves to receive, but always, always returns the favour. And does so with enthusiasm. He’s sweet with you when you suck him off, fingers threaded into your hair, never rough with you. The coy looks you give him, the flush on your face, its a wonder he ever manages to last long.

P= pace

Once again, it depends. 

If he’s stressed from a case, he tends to be fast and rough, pounding into you hard as he murmurs filthy praise into your ear. Leaves you sore and a little bit dazed.

Other nights he’s slow, setting a languid pace. The sheer adoration with which he looks at you, the depth in those dark eyes, it’s enough to leave you breathless. And it does, frequently.

Q= quickie

Oh yes. He’d much rather take his time with you, but he will never decline a cheeky quick one. 

This is how the service vehicle incident happened, all you said was that you couldn't wait to fuck him later. It’s not your fault that he decided that later meant now.

Despite his dedication to his job, he doesn’t mind being five minutes late to work if he spent those five minutes in you.

R= risk

He already has so much risk in his job that he likes to keep you safe. He’s not adverse to being rough with you, but he knows his/your limits.

He likes risky locations, though, and takes absolute delight in having you wherever he can manage to.

S= stamina

When working on a hard case, he keeps things short and intense. It’ll still be raw and passionate, often dizzyingly so, but it won’t last hours and hours.

However, when times at AC-12 are easier, he can come home from work and give you a night that never seems to end. The way he’s able to go on and on and on is overwhelming. Taking you in every position you can think of, having you pressed up against the furniture in every room of the flat until you’re exhausted. And then treating you to a bath so the pair of you can recover, only for his hands to slide under the water...

T= toy

As said, he’s a classic man, but he’d be up for trying out any toys if you ask him nicely.

U= unfair

His wonderfully filthy dirty talk often expands into shameless teasing. If he knows that you’re already desperate for him, especially if he’s been teasing you gently all day, he’ll go the extra mile just to make you beg.

He’ll see what he can get away with if you end up visiting the office, a sweet compliment accompanied with a long, slow look up and down your body, a casual shoulder touch that lingers just a little too long, tucking a strand of your hair out of your face but tugging it gently first. 

He knows it drives you mad.

V= volume

Initially, he was reserved and distant, just. As the pair of you have gotten closer (and he’s sorted out some of his intimacy issues) he’s become far more vocal. Sometimes its hushed praise and dirty words, other times it is the most divine growls.

W= wild card

He likes having his neck and shoulders kissed. You only found this out when you decided to turn the tables on him constantly peppering your collar with kisses. He’s so sensitive, and so responsive to your touch when you suck at the hollow of his throat. 

He may be the more dominant one in the bedroom, but having you nibbling at his shoulder leaves him shaking.

X= X-ray

Steve Arnott is a short king.

(Guys, he’s 5′8″, that’s not even that short).

But height is absolutely no reliable indicator, clearly. Not far past average length, but definitely larger than average girth. Surprising.

Y= yearning

Horny. Just like... feral uni student levels of horny. How does this man function when he can barely keep it in his pants? 

He’s worked on his self-control, he is disciplined, but his sex drive is just... high. Thank god you’re around to help him out, huh?

Z= Zzz

Unpredictable. 

Either falls asleep immediately after making sure you’re alright and comfortable, all cuddled up to you.

Or stays up for hours talking, saying all the things he’d never say outside the bedroom, holding you so close that you can’t imagine him not being by your side.

He tries to stay awake, always eager for another round or just some time spent with you, but he’s usually exhausted.

[bxllafanficc]

¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)

(Part two)

Part two. Part one Part three Part four part five

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Your POV*

There. All set and done. You took a last look at the pair of eyes staring back at you in the full body mirror. Your hair all dried up with a blowdrier and a pair of white jeans along with your favorite leather jacket. A grey turtleneck on that and that was the outfit for today. Keeping it classy since Victor failed to cancel the meeting with the press a couple of hours from now. 'A big hoodie would've been the ideal alternative though' you thought and sighed. Nowadays it's all about keeping it as simple yet kind of professional for every day. Social media were all star struck about the world's latest announcement. 'Winner of this year's Grand Prix senior division goes on a tour with none other than the (y/n) (l/n)!' The newspapers were first out as usual thanks to the reporters crowding her personal space since two weeks from now since the news came out. A collaboration between a figure skating competition and a competition for vocalists. You never saw that coming but you could see the appeal. The currently hottest male skater along with a popular female singer, fighting for the spotlight even though they're sharing it evenly. Him with his skills and she with her voice. You agreed to participating when asked, of course. It was a great opportunity and experience. And currently you sought out every great possibility at the market right now. That's what lead you here.

You made your way out the room you were staying in and headed towards the dining area in deep thoughts. 'So that's Yuri Plisetsky up close?' You thought as you passed the living room. You entered the dining area and stood still at the entrance to take in the scene before you. Yuri Plisetsky is sitting at the dining table with his back facing you. Beside him with his side profile turned at your direction is coach Yakov who's chatting with Victor and Yuuri opposite of the table. Yuri is not talking. He's busy eating a dish called the pork cutlet bowl, you assumed. You had never tried one before but the dish was all too familiar thanks to the last Grand Prix competition on Yuuri Katsuki's behalf. You eyed Yuri carefully and entered the room. He's a little shorter than what was given away on television but other than that, very much the boy you'd seen competing time to time. His skating was without doubt impressive to say the least. His jumps were always perfect as expected and his upper body movements in beat to the music. Though, you always deemed something missing in his already amazing performances. Expression. The year he won gold at the senior division, you saw some great scenes of emotion displayed in his skating but it was clear that he never let them consume him. It always looked as if there was something on his mind and that held him back, even made him stop and hesitate sometimes.

"Whoo! (Y/n) is back! Yuri! Meet your coach in musical expressional performance."

The boy's attention was suddenly entirely on you now, in comparison for being totally relaxed and unfocused. He tensed up and the pair of breathtakingly blue and green eyes widened at her for the second time today. 'Hope this is not becoming a regular habit of his' whenever he sees me. It's starting to get a little embarrassing.'

"You! What even- What are you doing here?! A-aren't you like 19 years old or something? That's just two years away from me! That's.. You're far too young to be my coach!" The startled reaction of his kind of made you wonder what was up. He did meet you just about- ah. Your face mask and your covered hair clearly disguised you well enough for the boy not to recognize you. Though he clearly knew you.

"Great, so you're familiar with me. Then I don't need a further introduction." You flashed him a smile.

"Who isn't familiar with the star of We Are Voice and winner of gold two years in a row? At this point, you're basically stealing the spotlight I fought so hard to gain at my senior division debut." The words came out in a mutter and the negative impact of the comment made you raise an eyebrow at the boy on the floor in front of you. He still hadn't stood up to greet you which would be the appropriate thing to do first time meeting your coach. Then you pouted and leaned your now crossed arms against the wall to your right.

"Though, I am a little disappointed you didn't recognize me by voice. I mean, if I am as famous as you speak of, you surely would've known right away." That just earned a scoff from him.

"There are thousands of girls who sound similar to you. Yes, even with that (nationality) accent. Your voice isn't that special." The other men in the room widened their eyes. Ouch. And he's just as grumpy and homeboy teenage-crisis as he was portrayed in television and social media as well. You had thought it was only mere acting in an attempt to shun people away and making the attraction towards him less appealing.

"I see... Well that's one way putting it."

It certainly worked on you, you had thought for several years now but turns out he's just a jerk. Yakov moved to get in Yuri's face and scold him.

"Where is your manners? Quit playing a brat all of a sudden."

"What? Am I not allowed to speak my mind now when you have to suck up to miss universe over here all of a sudden?"

You raised a silent hand for the arguing pair to let their words die down and then you locked gaze with the insolent boy. Your eyes were blank but rock hard and you could swear that you saw a faint gulp forming in his throat.

"Get on your feet and get over here. Turn sideways." At least I didn't have to ask twice. But I didn't really ask him either. He rose to his feet and took some hesitant steps towards me. It was clear that he didn't trust me. 'Something to work on' I hummed to myself. His posture was stiff and crooked but after another word from Yakov, he straighten his back for me to see him properly. He pulled the hood of his hoodie off and mirrored my blank hard stare. I began to circle him, getting a fair look on what I would be working with for a set of weeks. His eyes didn't dare follow mine as I stepped beside him, knowing that I was out for him to break character. A stale being is much harder getting to know than a forward and open one.

Then, when you were behind his back, you reached out with your hand to his back and - shoved him casually forwards. A yelp of surprise echoed through the room as he stumbled and fell towards Victor who caught him right before hitting the floor face first. You and Yakov locked gaze and gave each other a slight nod before you once again turned to the upset boy.

"What the hell was that? You pushed me for what? Are you that sensitive for a little negativity for once?"

"Your balance is off." You simply said with the same blank expression and a headshake. He seemed dumbfounded of the answer and got off Victor with quick feet. He was close to you this time and the daggers you received was intended to leave wounds after he was done.

"Because you pushed me."

"Exactly."

"I wasn't prepared!"

"Exactly."

"We have some work to do, Yuri. Your break has been too long, it seems. She was only picking up on where you left off, in a way." Yakov spoke up between the one-sided staring contest. The boy turned towards the man which included his back facing my front once again. But this time, he was careful on taking a few steps forward to avoid history repeating itself.

"She's not you. She shouldn't do your job. It's none of her business anyway."

"It actually is if you think harder on it. There's no point in me working on your emotional performance if your practical performance is flawed. A skater who can't manage a simple shove will not get up on his or hers feet at the competition as well." You expected some kind of backlash from Yuri, at least a glare or something. But you were met with nothing to your surprise. He didn't speak up either.

"It's settled. You and I will rehearse you back into your former shape before your time with (y/n) begins, starting tomorrow. Meanwhile, also take some time to get to know each other, you two. You seem to need it." Yakov declared the schedule and choose to pinpoint the obvious tension between you and Yuri. You somewhat agreed on spending time besides training. Though, you would rather not take a verbal beating more than once a day further on.

Yuri still didn't speak up but he didn't object either.

"(Y/n), there's food left for you too! Please join us for dinner." Yuuri Katsuki exclaimed and waved an energetic hand towards the bowls and plates on the table. In front of you, you saw the back muscles of the Russian skater's form tense at the words.

You had to decline though. If not for the meeting, then for the sake of giving Yuri some space. It must be hard, after all. Whatever's he's going through right now.

"I would love to! But I have to excuse myself this time. After all, I have a meeting to attend and if I don't get going, I'll soon be running late. See ya folks later!"

And with that, you dashed off.

[moonguilt]

Klance 🍁

hey hello!! maple leaf hmm im a sucker for autumn and falling leaves so i must submit to my calling! please indulge me as i unload some pre-kl angsty keith unrequited (or so he thinks) pining. this kind of just turned into a full-on fic so uhhh sorry about that heh:

Allura has, obviously, never been to Earth before. She has never had the quintessential American autumn experience: leaf-peeping, hay rides, pumpkin-picking, apple cider, corn mazes, candle huffing, haunted houses—that type of thing, from what Keith knows of the subject. Which is admittedly kind of limited.

Lance is absolutely thrilled at the notion that he gets to introduce her to all of it. He clearly loves the idea of being the cool guy who gets to show an alien space princess an important facet of his lived experience here on Earth. As soon as the notion strikes him, one day while the team is scattered about their shared common room at the Garrison, he makes plans to take her on a tour. She is fascinated by the suggestion and immediately agrees—even expresses a particular excitement at the idea of getting to try out trendy fall Earth fashion.

Surprising absolutely no one, least of all Keith, Lance avidly encourages this and pulls out a phone to start making plans to wear matching outfits. (Allura seems to like the “dark academia” look, and Lance is more than happy to take her out shopping and also get some use out of his own turtlenecks.)

Keith, meanwhile, finds himself sitting across the table from them, watching this all go down, feeling bitter and sorry for himself. He’s a big gay idiot—he knows that—and, well. Sue him. He has to watch the man he loves make date plans with his crush. It’s hard. And for some reason, for some big gay idiot reason, because he must be a masochist or something, because he’s feeling so unreasonably grumpy and petulant about the whole thing, because he should be happy that Lance is happy and he hates that he’s just upset instead because what kind of dickish friend is he—

He says, “I’ve never seen any of that before either.”

And he wants to kick himself for saying it as soon as the words are out of his mouth, because he’s intruding on something that is not meant for him, and he’s such an asshole for trying to insinuate himself where he clearly doesn’t belong, and he’s also a liar because unlike Allura he has at least seen all of this stuff in movies and books and pictures so it’s not really a novelty for him the way it is for her, and now it’s like he’s trying to take something precious from her and from Lance, and he’s such an asshole and also so obvious and unsubtle.

It’s painful. He is in pain. Pain is in him.

He expects Lance to quip something snarky back at him, or to tell him to butt out, or to give him the “not cool bro” signal or—or something.

But Lance just lights up like a damned Christmas tree and leans over the table and says, “Really?! Dude, you’ve gotta come with!”

And the next thing Keith knows he’s being dragged by both his crush and an alien princess into Lance’s closet so that they can figure out his own matching ensemble for their weekend getaway to New England. He and Lance are basically the same size at this point, with a bit of variation in the details, so it’s an ordeal but not an unsuccessful one. The shirts are a little too loose around the shoulders—God, Lance and his smooth, wide shoulders—and a little too tight around the waist and arms, but they make it work.

Besides, Keith can’t help but feel a flicker of pride—misplaced, probably, but who cares—at the way Lance’s face goes a bit red at the sight of him. It’s probably nothing. But Keith is a fool and so he allows himself to entertain the frankly ridiculous fantasy that perhaps Lance likes the look of him in these clothes.

When the time comes, it’s a whole lot more complicated than Keith was anticipating—this is Lance, of course, so there’s a whole detailed itinerary of all the things they absolutely must do at every hour of each day of their weekend mini-vacation. Keith doesn’t know what the hell is in store for him and doesn’t really care; he trusts Lance to lead the way. And also he would much rather dig a hand into the roadtrip potato chip bag and lose himself in carbs than stress over a schedule that he knows is probably going to get messed up anyway because both Lance and Allura will be immediately distracted every time they set eyes on something fun or interesting or pretty. (But who is he to criticize when he himself is so often distracted by Lance.)

Anyway, he’s not really sure why Lance insisted on roadtrip snacks. It takes like a minute to get to Massachusetts in the Black Lion. But whatever; he knows better than to ask questions when Lance gets focused like this.

The trip ends up being remarkably enjoyable, actually. Keith expects it to be agonizing—he thinks he’s going to have to watch Lance drool over Allura the whole time while he third-wheels and follows them around carrying all their stuff—but the reality is a pleasant surprise. Keith hadn’t really noticed it until now, but there is something different about the way Lance and Allura interact these days. It’s less uncomfortable than Keith remembers. It feels more—natural, he supposes. And most astonishingly, it includes him as an equal and welcome part of the dynamic. Strange.

He notices it in the way Lance throws an arm around both him and Allura as they walk up a winding cobblestone street; in the way Allura says, “Boys, come here! Smell this candle! It’s called ‘pumpuh-kin spihsee’!” and beckons them both in close; in the way Lance asks a stranger to take their picture in front of a quaint old churchyard and, when Keith lingers awkwardly out of frame, calls him over and tucks him tightly in between himself and Allura.

It’s... fun. It’s so much fun. Keith is having so. Much. Fun.

He loves being able to share cider donuts with them. Instead of fighting over who gets the last one, like he thinks he would have been inclined to do once upon a time, they each keep biting it in half, smaller and smaller, and force the next person to do the same until they’re all nibbling tiny bites off of a pathetic little crumb. (Keith loses this game when he swallows the final piece because Lance leans in too close and brushes a sprinkle of sugar from his cheek. Not his proudest moment. He ends up having to pay for dinner.)

He loves being able to make fun of the silly ghost tour guide with them, mocking the dramatic affectation of his voice as he tells a story so obviously fake that it nearly brings them to tears. At least until the wind blows a door open so fast that Lance shrieks and jumps into Allura’s arms, at which point they really are overcome by tears—with the exception of Lance, of course, who just pouts at them both for a solid minute while he waits for them to recover from their laughter.

He really loves them. Not both in the same way, or with the same intentions—but he does. He loves them. And he loves this. And he is so glad he gets to experience it. So glad he didn’t submit to his urge to sulk and pine and grouse over his feelings for Lance. Because this is something precious, and he would be a fool to compromise it.

And no, it certainly isn’t the worst thing in the world, when they’re sitting on a pile of hay getting towed along by a rusty red tractor through the woodsy outskirts of a small farm, the way Lance curls his fingers through Keith’s and pulls their joined hands onto his lap, or the way Allura’s head droops to rest on Keith’s shoulder, while the three of them lounge together in the fading evening light.

“I love you both,” Allura mumbles drowsily into Keith’s borrowed sweater as he loops his arm around her back.  “Very much so.”

Lance’s thumb rubs along the back of Keith’s hand.  “Me too,” he says, turning to look at Keith with a gaze that could only be described as buttery soft.

Keith holds it for a moment, willing it to melt into his mind forever, then feels himself smile, slow and gentle, as he leans his head back against the hay and looks up.  The first stars of the night have emerged to kiss the sky above.  He tugs his friends just a little closer.

oh man i had fun with that, ty for reading and ty for the ask!!

[tempportal]

SENSES AND OTHER ODDLY SPECIFIC HEADCANONS. 

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE? 

Five’s powers carry a faint scent of smoke, similar to a burned-out electrical circuit or a fried wire, which is typically all anybody else can ever smell on him, but on the rare days when he goes a while without a jump, that wears off, and it’s easy to catch the scent of coffee and / or alcohol that he’s always drinking.

WHAT DO YOUR MUSE’S HANDS FEEL LIKE? 

Back when he was an old man, Five’s hands were rough, scarred, calloused, with deep wrinkles and prominent veins and dark liver spots, but now that he’s a little kid again, his skin has smoothed out, and softened into what it was before he left. He has only two small calluses now, on the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, where his favorite gun digs into the flesh when he holds and fires it.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY EAT IN A DAY? 

He tries to ration as much as he can! Even now that he’s back home, where the food is plentiful and the next meal is always mere hours away, he stretches every last bite as far as it will go and, more often than not, he just skips out on meals entirely for days at a time--edible and unspoiled food has seemed like a luxury to him for so long, he feels almost guilty when he eats before he absolutely has to.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE A GOOD SINGING VOICE? 

He’s very solidly average! He’s definitely not the next in line for a Grammy, but he’s not terrible, and he can stay in-tune and on-key reasonably well. But he only ever sings when Dolores asks him to, and good luck getting a note out of him unless he’s alone with her.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY BAD HABITS OR NERVOUS TICS?

Provided he’s not in the thick of his Serial Killer PMS™ where it’s a lot harder to control himself and play it close to the vest, Five doesn’t display his emotions too much - on the contrary, he actively attempts to hide what he feels, and usually, he’s far too composed to ever give himself away in such obvious, amateur ways, but get him intensely nervous / anxious / embarrassed / flustered, and he does have a tendency to repetitively smooth down his hair / smooth out the wrinkles in his clothes, in a sort of subconscious self-soothing routine - one that he falls into most often when he’s going to / coming back from a one-on-one with the Handler.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY LOOK LIKE / WEAR? 

He’s definitely not particularly picky about what he wears (half a century in a post-apocalyptic wasteland will do that to a man) but when the opportunity presents itself, he always opts for the classic three-piece suit-and-tie look, and he also favors turtleneck sweaters, long-sleeved button-ups, and neutral colors - white, black, brown, beige, grey. He prefers to dress as conservative, traditional, and modest as possible.

IS YOUR MUSE AFFECTIONATE? HOW MUCH? HOW SO? 

Five is affectionate in the same way that a grumpy, antisocial cat is affectionate--which is to say, he pines for love right up until he actually receives it, whereupon he freaks out and goes batshit feral until he’s left alone again LMAO

WHAT POSITION DOES YOUR MUSE SLEEP IN?

He tends to curl up on his right side, with his knees pulled up far enough that he can settle Dolores on his legs and place her head on his shoulder - even after he takes her back home and says his goodbyes to her, he always sleeps like he’s still got her in his arms.

WOULD YOU HEAR YOUR MUSE IN THE HALLWAY FROM ANOTHER ROOM? 

bold of you to assume he walks down hallways like a common wench!! bold of you to assume he doesn’t just jump everywhere he wants to be, privacy and boundaries be damned!! BUT in the rare moments that he DOES take the time to walk from room to room, he’s almost eerily quiet--thanks to all that rigorous Commission training, it’s almost second nature to him now (even when he’s not in a life-or-death situation) to slip in and out as silently as a shadow. 

Which comes with one (1) ENORMOUS bonus called scaring the literal living shit out of all his siblings all the time - except Vanya with her superhuman hearing. He’s not sure if it’s even possible to be quiet enough to slip under her hypersensitive radar, but one day, he will FUCKING do it. mark his words. (He can’t tell if Vanya is anywhere near as invested in the whole thing as he is, but he has to believe she is. his pride couldn’t take it if she wasn’t even trying to hear him).

tagged by: @theseancekid​ (thank you!! it was really cool to learn so many small details about Klaus, and to come up with them for Five! 💙) 

tagging: @rumorsabound​ @hrtbrkrs​ (and @fromscarlet​ if you’re up for both!!) @mstinteresting​ @nirgama​ @immortalled​ @conjuredead​ @nvmbcrtwo​ (and @gunpowdcr​ if you’re up for both!) @pathowing​​ and anyone else who wants to do it!! 

[fuzziemutt]

Headcanon Background

These are my headcanons following the world of “Do You Understand?”

This is just extra world building and character stuff that I didn’t want bogging down the main story or have established in there for future reference. Some of these headcanons are inspired by fics I’ve read btw. I might add onto this in the future.

WARNING: Minor Spoilers ahead - I do suggest reading this after the story is complete.

-this mostly covers Connor, Nines and Hank because they’re the ones I most often deal with. If anyone asks for the others or I think of some for them I might add em.

MasterList

World:

This is Post Pacifist route and everyone lives (best ending)

The actual events of the game take much longer, the revolution doesn’t end until towards the end of December to January.

Some events of the game went a bit differently since the time is stretched and because mister Cage is dumb. Like Markus can’t do the weird look deviation thing for funsies. And Alice is human (even if not shown). And there were more revolutionary events that aren’t discussed but happened.

Androids are also much more open about their inhumaness, they often act more human like around humans. However, while alone, androids tend to talk via their internal networks most often (some choose to outwardly speak only too, it’s just preference) and refer to themselves in less human manners.

Okay ngl I’m not gonna get into how to fix this mess of a world Cage made, I’m going to idealize some things in this fic (like I made a landlord nice and not much ACAB- or really any cop stuff), this is merely for fic purposes. I ain’t gonna play moral battlefield with Cage’s dumbass for what started as a vent fic. Just know I don’t agree with a lot of the decisions Cage made for this game’s plot.

Connor RK800:

The RK800 model was made with less articulations in his face so as to cut corners given he was meant to just be a trial. -He needs to consciously run facial expression programs and they can be quite awkward.

Same vein, Connor’s constant calibration, while also a stim, lack of tear ducts, and blinking glitch are also due to Cyberlife cutting corners

Connor Has ADHD because I do so he does too

He also stims by pacing or running, but he tends to do this in absolute private.

He likes to change his hair color quite often to differentiate himself from Nines (He would change his eye color if he could), he does have Bryan’s curly hair but he still consistently styles it to the game style.

His wardrobe style consists of button ups (black, white and floral), turtlenecks, a dark grey blazer, knee length black coat, black jeans, and dress shoes (often Cyberlife ones since they’re just slip ons essentially)

He has killed/hunted way more deviants (and humans) than in game Connor. When he isn’t with Hank, Cyberlife ordered him to simply hunt down and dispose of any deviants he could find. (they wanted results they just played nice with the law for show)

While he wasn't cruel and let all deviants he met with Hank go (except Rupert), any deviants he found while "off duty" did not receive the same mercies (some would even be found mangled beyond recognition). Hank really amplified the humanity in him but only when present. It was also easier to ignore orders when he had a scapegoat.

He also remembers all prior iterations of himself; while the corruption in memory is still there, it was used to condition him in “right” from “wrong”.

He spent a lot more time with Amanda especially during early trials as well so his loyalty to her is very deep and she is like a mother figure to him.

This is Connor model -54. Past 3 models deactivation: Fell with Daniel while protecting Emma (Successful mission); Success w/ Carlos’ android, but he still self destructed and got shot in the interrogation room when trying to stop them; Stratford tower kitchen but the deviant crushes his thirium pump before running leaving him unable to be saved.

He did go up to the roof and saw how Simon was left behind, but he thought about how Hank would be displeased if he killed this android in front of him, given prior results, so he left back to the kitchen last second. Simon knows he left him alone but he doesn't know why.

*pats his head* this boy can hold so much unprocessed trauma

Also this Connor is not an “uwu soft boy”, he is a bastard man. A nice bastard man, but a bastard man none the less. He will sell you to Satan for a single corn chip (/j). He is severely touch-starved though.

He is very bad at expressing and showing his true emotions in a way that makes sense since he’s spent the last, however many, iterations putting himself in a tomb of denial, fear and anger in order to survive. He often expresses nothing or in a manner that he feels will benefit him (arguably manipulative but he is in constant survival mode still). (unless he gets too overwhelmed by his own emotions like hella overwhelmed)

He wasn’t necessarily “deviant” when a machine, his social relations and general programming just saw the act of being more emotionally expressive as giving him a higher chance of not being killed by his handlers. Basically “if they think I’m like a cute roomba, they won’t kill me as easily”. He still experienced frustration, fear and other emotions he ignored, but he was under command (with code and external pressures), his own AI just got fucky and advanced without anyone realizing it (from trauma).

The books in his apartment are random books hes bought from a thrift store, but there are some mystery books and a sea creature encyclopedia in the mix. - The manta ray plush is a gift from Hank, the Whale is a gift from Nines.

Connor (Nines) RK900:

He looks and sounds exactly like Connor. Height, build, face, voice and everything is the exact same except he has blue eyes.

Arguably Nines’ system name is still registered as “Connor” but he just never felt the need to change it since he just goes by Nines anyways.

He has more articulations in his face, even more than the average android, and he tends to take advantage of this. He does feel bad sometimes after being a walking reminder that Connor meant nothing to Cyberlife, but they both tend to not want to talk about that and just ignore it. He doesn’t know how deep Connor’s jealousy goes though.

Given he activated deviant, he really isn’t sure what being a machine is like or having to follow orders. This sometimes is a disadvantage as he doesn’t get sometimes why androids, like Connor, would lean so heavily onto their old programming.

This also means, he’s very expressive and open about his emotions. They were free so why would he try hiding what he felt ? (This can sometimes get him in trouble)

Where Connor changes his hair, Nines wears very loud and vibrant clothing, if he finds a shirt that screams ugly he will wear it. His usual get up is asymmetrical colored button ups, whatever pants he grabs that morning, dress shoes (don’t worry they’re ugly too) and his favorite highlighter neon yellow and orange hooded jacket. He also tends to change into more comfy wear when at his room in New Jericho.

He is partnered with Gavin Reed, but those two really aren’t friends and never will be. Nines can handle him just fine at work but he would never invite that man anywhere near him after it. He is friends with most of the DPD. People find him really friendly and enjoy talking to him.

He also owns a cat named Clem, not much is known about her because she’s really shy.

While he still has access to the base zen garden program, the program is not connected to anything and never had the Amanda AI implemented yet. Since he was never rolled off the press properly and Amanda was set to change connections to the new model set when Connor was done, it never happened.

He was released from Cyberlife storage due to an agreement between them and Markus that all remaining prototypes would be released and androids would have access to the tower in order to produce biocomponents and parts (Cyberlife still owns the building arguably and has access to any info/security there though). He’s honestly not that close to the Jericho leadership despite everything. He talks to them every once in a while but he doesn’t actively talk to them.

Arguably yes he is one of many RK900s, but for sake of story, he is the -84 model of the series and the only one we will see.

Hank Anderson:

After the revolution, he offers Connor a place to stay out of worry. He won’t admit it, but he had a gut feeling con man wasn’t doing well (he was right)

He does work on his drinking problem, but he still has a lot of issues and sometimes relapses. He’s slowly getting better.

He’s like a dad figure to Connor but he isn’t his dad. He gives guidance, but he also gets that Connor is arguably a full grown adult even if he is emotionally like 1 years old. He kinda is a dad to Nines too, but this isn’t as focused on in the story. While he is a bit less grumpy (aggressive) enter Connor, he still a bit of a sour boot most of the time. He just is sober while doing it now. He started wearing a ponytail after the revolution to keep his hair out of his face. He lets Connor trim it every once in a while, but he can’t bring himself to go back to the short style. This Hank adopted Cole as a baby after finding him at a crime scene. He never got married. (He jokes about having an ex-wife out of a sense of compulsory heteronormativity and because it’s funny to him) He used to treat Gavin like a son of sorts before Cole’s death, but practically dropped him afterwards which is why Gavin is doubly hostile towards him. The house he lives in now is not the same house he lived in when Cole was alive. He also got rid of a lot of Cole’s stuff when moving (The toys and clothes he kept are in a box in the garage).

[ameth18blog]

Unexpected Encounters. Chapter 1: Families and Children

It was a normal day in the city of Japan, in one of the airports of the city a plane from the city of Zootopia just arrived. In it, people who have just come to the country came either for vacations or for other reasons.

Among the people getting off the plane was a red fox with green eyes wearing a green button-down shirt, brown pants, and a blue tie; a gray rabbit with purple eyes wearing a red and white and gray plaid shirt; another gray rabbit with blue eyes that had black stripes on its face that joined at the back of its head that was wearing a white button-down shirt, black pants, black tie and a black jacket; and lastly a brown fennec fox with light brown eyes wearing a black shirt with a red stripe and olive green pants.

These were nothing more and nothing less than two of the Zootopia police officers Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps, known as the first fox and the first rabbit in the Zootopia police forces, Jack Savage, the best known secret agent of his agency, and Finnick, an old friend of Nick's who helped out on many undercover missions.

But the four of them weren't coming. Behind them came 2 children: One was a gray and light brown vixen with green eyes, wearing a red shirt, a yellow skirt and a blue bow on her head. The other was a gray rabbit that had black stripes on his face that joined at the back of his head, he wore a light blue shirt and brown pants.

These two children are named Nicole Wilde and Jerry Savage, they are half siblings and at the same time twins. Nicole is the daughter of Nick and Judy, while Jerry is the son of Jack and Judy. They are both 4 years old and each was standing on either side of their mother.

Some time ago Nick and Jack had fallen in love with Judy and they did everything possible to make Judy fall in love with one of them, without either of them knowing that the other was in love with her until the day they both confessed. After several unforeseen and very long counting situations one night, Nick, Judy and Jack ended up having a threesome which led to Judy getting pregnant. After Nick and Jack realized this, they decided to help Judy, since in the end they didn't know which of the two the unborn child could be and they felt responsible. When Judy gave birth, they realized to their surprise that they were twins and that the girl was a vixen that looked like Nick and the boy was a rabbit that looked like Jack. From that moment on the five began to be an unusual family, but over time they got used to it, although despite being a happy family there was never an official marriage Nick, Judy and Jack, but they lived in concubinage. They were even quite close that Nicole and Jerry referred to both Nick and Jack as their parents without any distinction and even Nick and Jack treated both children as their children without distinction from one to the other. The only thing they lacked was a stable home, as the whole family rotated between the small apartments of Nick, Judy and Jack to live until they could buy a house big enough for all of them, fortunately they already lacked little money to get it.

Finnick on his side when he heard the news of the birth of the children and upon meeting them, they became very fond of him and began to refer to him as their honorary uncle, even letting out a side of him that even Nick didn't know and surprised him when he passed time with the kids, it was like I was someone other than the grumpy one he knew. Because of that, Finnick had become so close to the family that when Nick, Judy, and Jack went out to work, he stayed behind to babysit.

Now, the reason they were in Japan, was because after several years of service in the agency Jack was given the opportunity to take a vacation paid by the agency to anywhere in the world, and he could bring companions, it is which is why Nick, Judy, Finnick, Nicole and Jerry came with him. And the reason they came to that country is because once Jack was there during a mission and he loved the country that he wanted to visit it again and he was sure that his companions would love this country.

"Well, now that we are here, where is the hotel where we will be staying?" Nick asked.

"It's not far, it's closer to a company called Carrier Man Trading Co., Ltd. It's quite comfortable and cozy," replied Jack.

"If it's more comfortable than my truck, it will have my approval," Finnick said.

At that moment, Nicole and Jerry were drinking some water in a fountain that was a few steps from where Judy was standing, when they finished they were about to return to their mother when they suddenly found two small objects right behind the fountain. They were two brilliant emeralds the size of their hands. One was red and the other was blue. Nicole took the red one and Jerry took the blue one. They were so beautiful that they decided to keep them. They looked the two jewels, realizing that no one was looking for them so they put them in their pockets. Nick, Judy, Jack, and Finnick didn't realize what the children found at the time.

"Well, we'd better take a taxi to the hotel," Judy said, taking each of the children with her hands.

When everyone finally left the airport with their bags in hand, Jack hailed a taxi. Most were surprised that in that country people were driving the opposite way to where they were driving in Zootopia. After putting the suitcases in the trunk, they all got in. Finnick sat down next to the driver. While Nick, Judy and Jack in the backseat, with Nicole on Nick's lap and Jerry on Jack's lap.

After they were ready, the taxi left the airport in the direction of the hotel.

...

In another part of the same city, children were found playing in a park while their parents watched them. In a specific place in the park there was a grayish-brown and gray hyena, wearing a black and red striped shirt, black pants, a black leather jacket and black boots; an orange, white and brown red-panda, wearing a peach sweater, a white and brown plaid skirt, and black shoes; a orange, white and brow red-maned-wolf, wearing a black shirt, white jacket, blue pants, and yellow shoes, also wore a gold watch on his left wrist; a light beige fennec vixen wearing a light blue turtleneck, gray skirt, black socks and brown boots; a white secretary bird with some orange and yellow feathers, wearing a blue sweater, white pants, and white shoes; and finally a gray gorilla, who wore a white dress with a red scarf and white shoes.

These were workers from Carrier Man Trading Co., Ltd who were on their day off: Haida, Retsuko, Ookami and Fenneko who worked in the accounting area, Washimi who was the CEO's secretary, and Gori who is the director of marketing. Haida and Retsuko were married just like Ookami and Fenneko were also married. Washimi and Gori who were longtime friends and friends with Retsuko, ended up becoming friends with Haida, Fenneko, and Ookami in recent years.

At that moment two children approached them: One was a brown and gray red-panda in, wearing a black and red striped shirt, and blue pants. The other was a cream, white, and brown hybrid that had the eyes, head shape, arms, legs, and height of a red-wolf, while it had the muzzle, nose, tail, and ear of a fennec; she was wearing a light blue T-shirt and grayish blue pants.

These two children are named Koka and Hana. They were best friends and had a little crush on each other. Koka was the son of Haida and Retsuko, while Hana was the daughter of Ookami and Fenneko. They were both 6 years old and were playing together in a sandbox building sand castles.

A few years ago after leaving the group of OTMGirls and having returned to work in the company, Retsuko and Haida began to be closer at first as a relationship of best friends, but with the passage of time Retsuko decided to give a chance to Haida and realized that he was more attentive and respected her decisions than what she wanted for the future. It was like this that after dating for a while, and after a night of passion Retsuko got pregnant, after finding out about that having talked to Haida he proposed to her and they married shortly before Koka was born. Since then they are a happy family with their son. Even Retsuko's mother and grandmother visit them very often and even the relationship with Retsuko and her mother has improved, the only thing that still stresses her are the situations she experiences at work.

On the other hand, Ookami and Fenneko was more surprising, since they have never revealed when they started dating or how it happened, but Retsuko and Haida assume that it was at some point when Retsuko returned to work. And they only discovered them when Retsuko and Haida once caught them going home together holding hands a few days after they got off work. It was because of this that Ookami started dating Haida, Retsuko, Washimi, and Gori more often. As with Haida and Retsuko, during a night of passion between the two Fenneko became pregnant and after revealing it to Ookami, he proposed to her and they married before Hana was born.

They had all gathered to have a day of relaxation, and they had been in the park all morning, as it was already noon, they decided to go to lunch.

"Koka, Hana. Come on, it's time to go" said the parents.

"We're coming" they both responded in unison.

Koka and Hana had found two emeralds buried in the sand that were brightly colored. Koka had a green one and Hana had a yellow one. They wondered who could have lost them in a place like that. But since they liked them, they decided to keep them, so they put them in their pockets.

Once they were reunited with the six adults, they held hands with their respective mothers.

"I heard about a restaurant that just opened recently, and it even has an area for the children to play and have fun," Washimi said as she showed them a picture of the restaurant on her cell phone.

"And it's not that expensive either, so we can all ask for something" said Gori while holding his phone with the same image.

"Well, that's fine with me. And it looks nice," Retsuko said.

"Yeah, and it's not like those punk-style places that Haida used to take me to vent when Retsuko rejected him," Fenneko said.

"Hey, you didn't need to say that" Haida said a little blushing with embarrassment.

"Oh come on friend, that is in the past" said Ookami as he put a hand on his shoulder.

Koka and Hana only observed the situation without understanding from the adults, they only thought about the jewels that were found, perhaps later they would show them to their parents.

After a few seconds, the whole group finally left the park and went to the restaurant for lunch.

...

In another part of the city in a dark alley there were 6 beings, 3 male beings with their respective wives and their respective children between 14 and 9 years old. Each of the male beings held an emerald, one cyan, one purple, and one white. One of them had a tracker, in his hands. And I was seeing how far the other four were.

"According to my tracker they are not far from here" this was a yellow fox.

"I can't believe that for the second time, we ended up in another dimension because of chaos control" this was a red echidna.

"Well, we have to find them quickly, because if it happened like the previous time, he might be here too" said the blue hedgehog.

[universitychallenged]

University Challenge 2020/21, Episode 9

How do you film socially distanced UniChall? One of my insider snouts informs me that the first round was filmed pre-plague, but Round Two onwards will be delayed. Will the teams be in a bubble for two weeks beforehand (good way of cramming in extra revision on metal alloys and Brueghel the Elder)? Or will Jez point accusingly at contestants for removing their masks to confer? I await with bated breath (which I will not exhale on anyone).

***STOP PRESS! See a tweet from legendary announcer Roger Tilling below!***

Anyway! I couldn’t resist this one, because – GASP! – it was my alma mater (York) versus husband Andy’s most recent alma mater (King’s). I stood in front of Andy, fists clenched, leaping on my toes in prancey boxing-style and roaring lustily about bands of brothers, before remembering that it’s only a game and none of it matters (except it DOES).

York: 100

King’s College, London: 170

Team Vibe:

York: adorable little Yorkshire puddings

King’s College London: hanging out at the South Bank, reading Sebald and eating poke

Grandad Count: King’s had a couple of olds, taking Andy right back to being nearly twenty years older than many of his Masters peers in 2018 and trying to fit in by saying ‘lit’ and ‘savage’ (he didn’t really do this).

Gender Diversity Count: 2/8, aka:

Style News: No contest here: even if I wasn’t completely biased in favour of music students from York, dear Ridout would have run away with it. Killer shirt! Awesome necklace! Beige turtleneck! Singular hair! Hipster glasses! If I didn’t know better, I’d have assumed it was open mic night in Kreuzberg, Berlin, 1998.

Cult Hero Of The Episode: Today’s love-to-hate figure is Triggs, of King’s! By love to hate, I mean all the dopes who get riled into Twitrage if someone doesn’t smile politely and answer neutrally, with no character or individuality. Triggs (who also brought good shirt/T-shirt game) had a whole slouchy, grouchy insouciance going on, buzzed in several confident wrong answers as well as many correct ones. I, naturally, love him with nary a whit of hate, because those who doted on Imperial’s Brandon last season know that contestants are shitting themselves underneath any apparent swagger (see Tweet evidence below). He also had a very similar-to-Brandon Thinking Man pose!

Handsome Person of the Episode: York’s Walker had VERY dreamy eyes, but I’m giving it to lovely Captain Parsons, for her wide-eyed answers and fine cord dungarees.

Horror Bonus Round: 'Your bonuses are on Central Asia. In each case, name the country in which the following cities are located.’ It’s the ‘-stan' pot-luck round that comes around every five episodes! Sadly, we guessed Turkmenistan for each one.

For Captain Jackson of King’s, the horror round was definitely the Dickens one, in which he answered, confusingly, ‘Martin Chizzlewick’ three times running, ah hahaha.

Regular Music Fail By Composition PhD-owning Composer, Kerry Andrew: Singers crooning in different languages, ooo, spicy! Stevie Wonder I got, though I can honestly understand the discombobulation of hearing him sing in Spanish. Got The Supremes, but not Martha Reeves or the Temptations, because I changed my mind and blurted The Four Tops instead. Fantastic lack of classical music questions, yay! No one likes them (especially moi).

Dream Bonus Question Round: Producer Rick Rubin, yasss! We got Red Hot Chili Peppers, Johnny Cash and Metallica betwixt us. As an aside, it’s about seven and a half years and lots of whisky before Captain Jackson becomes Rick Rubin:

Jezza-Watch: Grumpy old goat versus unreadable millennial! ‘Milton?’ buzzed in Trigg, casually, correctly, with a vulnerable half-scowl. ’You always look as if you can hardly be bothered to answer,’ Jezzo groused. It’s literally the world encapsulated in one exchange.

Kerry and Andy’s Score: 19 points, fairly equally.

Brain Food: Salmon, pea puree and a potato waffle, YUM

Tweets of the Day:

Please feel free to share, retweet, shout about this blog!

Kerry on Twitter

Kerry on Instagram

Kerry on LinkTree

[mothpress]

me: oh i’ll just sketch a quick holoform drift portrait also me: *spends hours drawing, coloring and shading holoform drift, ratchet and rodimus portraits*  (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ Roddy’s design is basically the same as his canon holoform. I love his design a lot because it’s based on Marty McFly and I love Back to the future. As for Drift and Ratchet I just did what felt right, Rtachet being a grumpy old man in a turtleneck and Drift being Drift lol ps: I haven’t read mtmte and lost light yet ;_; i just know a lot from self inflicted spoilers on tumblr cuz i’m a dumb thot. I know dratchet is canon but i imagine them in a wonderful poly relationship

[kyberphilosopher]

Seven: Chapter Eight

ChApt3r EigHt

         I’m not sure why, but I feel like something so unsettling I can’t define it the next few days. I keep running diagnostics to see if I can find a reason in my numbers as to why I let Bryan go. My report always comes back the same. I am fully functional. There are no anomalies.

          I think I wish that I did find an anomaly. Then maybe I would have something to report to Adelicia, but I don’t. I can already tell she’ll have nothing good to say to me though. Even if there was a good, practical reason for what I had done, she would’ve found something wrong with it I’m sure.

          I am more scared of Adelicia than anyone else in the world. When I was first created, she was the first one I talked to. Even though I’m taller than her, her and her shadow seems to loom over me coldly. There has always been an unspoken rapport between us: she, the master- the handler, and I, the servant of her will. I am terrified of disappointing her. She makes me want to do better… or something like that.

          I think Cal might suspect what I did. He doesn’t say it or really show it, but occasionally his eyes will linger on me a while longer than they should before he snaps at me. When this happens, Officer Shovelman is usually in the background, offering me sympathetic smile.

          But I think me and Cal’s relationship is improving. Slowly, and not by much, but it is. “Robocop” seems to have become a normal nickname for me with him. Others include “Tin Fuck”, “Scraps”, “Dippy-Doo”, and “Circuits de Soleil”. I find the last one to be particularly clever. I continue to refer to him as his name and title- either Detective Kennedy or just Cal.

          Cal comes in at different times every day. Sometimes, it’s only a little past nine. Other times, it’s closer to twelve. He usually carries a coffee cup with him, reeking of alcohol and musk. His shirt is the only thing that seems to change in his outfit. He wears the same hooded jacket and jeans, same dusty sneakers he’s had for years. His shirt is always in dark, muted colors. Never neon. I like guessing which color he will wear each day. Today, it’s a navy blue. I think it looks nice against his olive skin tone, but I know better than to say that to him.

          I really don’t think Cal likes me at all. It’s discouraging. I was made to work directly with humans and integrate peacefully as part of the ‘perfect team’, but I can’t seem to handle this one, grumpy detective.

          It’s not even the kind of grumpy that works well on him. Cal is a young guy. He’s turning 27 in a few days. He’s not an older man with wispy grey hair who’s always ready with some kind of racial comment. Cal is angry at everyone and everything, especially Androids. I have no reasoning behind this.

          However discouraging Cal Kennedy is to me, I find solace in the fact that he likes me more than Celeste.

          I can’t prove it. It’s just something I feel. It’s a kind of social truth that everyone seems to know- even Shovelman and Ho-Kim and I’m sure Blackwell. I know Blaise and Tom laugh about it for sure, though they seem to laugh about everything.

          Still, all of these things I’ve come to observe do nothing to quench my unsettling feeling.

          Something must be wrong with me. I had an Exception Android right in front of me- actively breaking the law and hiding from it. I could’ve taken him. So why didn’t I?

          I thought I knew what I had to do. But now, something inside of me is questioning if it’s really that simple. I don’t think it is anymore.

          That Android… he killed humans. But he killed humans who were going to do bad things. He felt a sense of… a sense of injustice. And maybe he was right about it. Have I ever felt a sense of injustice? Is something wrong with my software? It must be. Or maybe I’m just overthinking it. I must be overthinking it. I’m no Exception Android. I’m a state of the art prototype. I always accomplish my mission.

          And yet, I chose to fail at a task given to me because something inside told me it was the right thing to do. Ridiculous. How ridiculous of me.

          Tonight though, I’ll have a chance to redeem myself. Detective Kennedy has assembled a sort of team for a stakeout, and he’s forced to bring me along. I know because Captain Ericson yelled at him for it. I guess all that really means is that I’ll be the only one content with the circumstances.    

          I have all the information for the stakeout in my memory. We are checking out an old apartment building like the one Bryan was in, searching to see if any Androids come the way. Apparently, reports of defective Androids have increased in the area, and it would be the best space to ‘lay low’ in. I’ve tried to mention to Cal that there are other, more logical places for an Android to hide, but Cal insists that this is the best option. He calls it a hunch. It is something I wouldn’t understand. I know, because he snaps it at me.

          We are scheduled to leave at approximately 6 pm. It is already 5. Cal has made no attempt at moving or packing. It’s awfully annoying.

          “Detective, don’t you think you should begin preparing for the stakeout?” I ask, leaning forward in my chair.

          “Nope,” Cal says, popping the ‘p’. His eyes don’t even flit up to look at me. They stay glued to a book he’s reading.

          Up til this point, I’d never seen Cal read anything except for case files. But here he is, clear as a statistic, holding a book with his feet kicked onto the desk. I’ve identified the book to be none other than ‘The Art Have Nots’ by Chase Jeremy. Even though the detective seems to be reading it to simply piss off everybody around him and be somewhat obnoxious and smug, he does seem to be enjoying the book. His pupils are dilated enough for me to observe this.

          “But it’s scheduled to start soon,” I say because I’m confused.

          “And I’m scheduled to punch you right in your face soon. Fuck outta here.”

          I frown. There is no reason for Cal to be so aggressive and angry towards me, and yet he is. However, I know better than to push his buttons and make matters worse right before a case. I remove myself from my chair and grab a small backpack lent to me by the department from under my desk.

          For a moment, I think Cal is going to glance up at me. The human eye is drawn to movement, after all. But there is nothing. I’ll save myself the equivalent of Android embarrassment and walk away.

          Once I’ve entered the bathroom, I place the backpack on the ground. Unzipping it, I find dull colored clothes that remind me a lot of Cal’s, and the comparison makes me smile a little. These are the clothes I’ve been ordered to wear for the stakeout, to look less suspicious should an Android pass by.

          I’m not worried about privacy. I wouldn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed if some woman walked into the bathroom and saw me changing clothes. I’m not a person, I’m an Android. My form has nothing to it but my makers aesthetic. They would have nothing to be jealous of.

          No woman interrupts me while I’m changing. Soon, I stand in front of the mirror, observing my outfit. I’m wearing a baggy, slightly distressed leather jacket with a grey hoodie attached. Under is a black turtleneck which is also a little to big for me. The jeans hug my thighs, but then become looser and torn around my knees. To match the grunge appearance are some brown boots and a dark beanie that reminds me an awful lot of the one Bryan was wearing. I keep my hair in it’s bun though, with the wisps of my bangs hanging out.

          My led flashes yellow as I analyze the jacket. I can see coffee stains, marks from a blue sharpie, and a little cartoon penis drawn right under my elbow. The size and all the other pieces of evidence point to this being Detective Cal Kennedy’s jacket.        

          Out of something  I can’t explain, I lean forward and sniff the collar. It smells just like Cal. A hint of smoke from cigarettes, something like cologne, and gasoline. Not overly strong, but identifiable and unique to him.

          I scrunch my eyebrows together at myself in the mirror. My led goes red.

Why Did I Do That?

     I have no answer for myself. I would rather not think about it much longer though, because then Adelicia might see and she’d be very upset with me. I shake my head, grab the backpack, and push the bathroom door open.

          As I’m making my way back to the bullpin, a woman smiles at me. A real, genuine smile. I don’t know if it’s because she can’t see my led, or because she’s just a polite person, but it throws me off a little for second.

Name: Sophia Syphers

Date of Birth: April 30th, 2017- Age 24

Height: 5’1

Weight: 131 lbs

Race: White, European-American

Birthplace: Seattle, Washington

Occupation: H.R Psychologist at Seattle Police Department

          I make a note of her occupation and appearance in my memory and continue on my way, not even pausing to look at her. I’m sure she’s made a mistake. Nobody really smiles at Androids, unless they are a small child or the Android is their own.

          It is only when I’m approaching Cal’s desk when I decide to analyze his coffee cup. It’s nearly empty, and I’ve already calculated multiple scenarios where he complains about what his lack of coffee tonight.

          It is 5:11. I have time.

          I make a quick swerve to the left, and enter into the break room. It is quiet now, and empty. Most everyone has gone home except for a few officers who are logging out. Celeste is still here, but that’s only because she’ll be joining us tonight. I don’t like that very much. I would much rather have Blaise, or Tom.

          I’m glad though, for the moment, that Celeste isn’t here.

          I appreciate the silence. Even as I place my bag on one of the tall tables and shuffle over to the counters against the wall in my baggy jeans, I feel more at peace. Just in the moment. Just kind of existing. I could almost pretend that I’m a human in this minute.

          First I observe that the coffee filter is empty. Because of this, I open the minifridge and remove one of the water bottles from it. It must be placed their newly, because it’s not yet cold. I poor the water into the filter, then grab the coffee grounds and add them. Last step is to turn the machine on and let it do it’s business. Shouldn’t take too long.

          I cross my arms and take a step back, looking at the ugly wall color of the room. It’s a sort of blue, vomit colored green I don’t think looks too nice. It would’ve been better with a mustard gold color, or even a plain grey.

          The synthetic hair on my arms prick up. I turn my head to the left, and see that just outside the glass walls of the room, Cal has been watching me. He looks calm for a second. Then he processes that I’ve seen him and turns back around.

          But this is a win, because he didn’t look so angry with me. I’m sure he will appreciate me bringing him his coffee. The thought makes me smile, just a little.

Software Instability ^

          Cal has turned his attention back to his book, so I return mine to the coffee pot. I’m happy to see that it’s done, and looks rather perfect.

          I take one of the plastic cups stacked on the counter, and poor in the coffee. I can feel how hot it is, but it doesn’t make me flinch at all. I’m built to withstand every condition. After, I put a lid on the cup. Cal takes his coffee black, so there’s no need for me to remember a crazy list of things to add.

          When I turn around to present the coffee to Cal and grab my pack, I am met face to face with none other than Celeste herself. Her face is slightly flushed, but that is from anger I assume.

          “Hey scraps,” she says with poison.

          “Hello, Officer Amora,” I say politely. My voice is calm, as usual.

          “What is that?” Celeste hisses, glancing to the steaming cup in my hands.

          “It’s a cup of coffee for Detective Kennedy. I saw he was low and decided to make some for him.”

          Celeste scoffs. “You made an entire new pot of coffee just for Cal?”

          “Correct. I thought he would enjoy it.”

          “Well he wouldn’t.” Celeste snaps her hand up and knocks the cup from my hands. It spills onto the floor, the bitter liquid spreading around and creating quite the mess. I don’t flinch.

          “I’m sorry. I thought you would be pleased to know Detective Kennedy had received his caffeine for the night.”

          Celeste gets closer to me. She’s glaring into my eyes, watching for any reason to pounce. I can smell her overly flowery perfume. She must’ve worn it specially for Cal. Her face is laced into a sneer, brown eyes narrowed in anger.

          “Who the fuck do you think you are?” she whispers, her breath hitting my plastic face.

          “Aleksandra. I’m the Android sent me Icarus.”

          This quip (which wasn’t meant as a quip at all), does me know good. Celeste’s hand balls into a fist, and comes up to meet my stomach.

          Androids don’t feel pain, but they do feel pressure. They feel sensations that are the equivalent of pain, or the closest to pain that they could feel. So when Celeste punched me, I didn’t feel ‘pain’, but I did feel something hard come up against my abdomen. In fact, I think it might’ve lightly knocked against my biocomponent.

          My led cycles red, and my vision flickers darkly. My legs buckle under me, and I drop to a kneel, clutching my plastic belly. The jeans I’m wearing become soiled in the dark coffee on the floor. Through the hole in them, I can feel the warmth against my knee.

          “You’re just a piece of plastic,” Celeste bites. “When you’re done with this, clean up the mess you made. You better not let me see you again tonight.” Then she leaves.

          I stay down, waiting for my Binary Blood to become regulated once again. Once it is, I run a diagnostic. All systems are functional, even though part of me doesn’t believe it.

          It’s 5:21. I still have time to make Cal some coffee if I hurry.

          I push myself off the floor at 5:23. With some paper towels, the floor is clean of coffee at 5:27. The last thing to do is pick up the plastic cup and toss it away. After that, I poor Cal a fresh cup of hot coffee and put a top on it. Uninterrupted this time, I grab my backpack and leave the break room at 5:29.    

          I can’t help the frown that graces my features at 5:30. Cal’s desk is empty. I had wanted to present this cup to him and watch him take it, maybe receive a bit of a smile. He probably just took my advice to go and finally prepare himself. His book is still here, so I’m sure he’ll be back.

          I put the cup down on his desk near the book, careful to avoid the messily strewn trinkets. Then I round myself to my own desk, sitting down politely.

          Cal emerges from the elevator at 5:38. I perk up upon seeing him, inhaling his scent of smoke and faded cologne. Rubbing the back of his head tiredly, I notice he’s wearing the same outfit as he was. I don’t mind this, though. I realize that Cal doesn’t really need to change clothes for a stakeout, because he already looks nothing like a cop. I assume that Celeste, who is joining us, is off in the girls bathroom now.

          “Hello, Detective,” I greet. I can’t explain why I’m so much happier to see him instead of Celeste.

          “Tin-Fuck?” Cal replies, tiredly and squinting his eyes at me. “Could’ve sworn you were a human for a second.”

          We both know that’s not true. He saw me in the break room, making coffee for him earlier.

          “Yes. These clothes are quite different from my normal ones. I think I like it.”

          Cal grunts and sits in his chair. He swivels the chair around childishly, but then slows when his eyes lock with the cup of coffee I had placed down. He stops, plants his feet firmly on the ground and perks up. His hand stretches out to touch it, but then he stops himself. “Who made this?”

          “I-”

          “Hey, Cal!”

          Cal turns to the direction of the voice. My smile and warmer atmosphere falters, diminished because I know exactly how unpleasant the next few moments will be.

          The voice belongs to none other than Celeste Amora, who currently looks like a ‘painted whore’. She’s let her hair down, and is wearing a black bra with a light white jacket. Paired with shorts, fish net tights, and heeled boots. I do not really care for this look at all. Still, I detect an increase in Cal’s heartbeat. I can’t see it, but I bet his eyes look her up and down just then.

          “Celeste,” Cal greets, dryly.

          “You look like a prostitute,” I say. Cal coughs suddenly and Celeste snaps to look at me, nostrils flaring.

          “It’s my disguise.”

          At that point, a line pops into my head that I have to stop myself from saying. However, the line was something like “if you wanted to look like a prostitute, you didn’t need much of a disguise”.

          But I don’t. I’m an Android. I am polite to humans.

          Still, I can’t help the very human like twitch of sadness in my stomach when I see that Cal has left his coffee behind. He doesn’t even take it with him when we leave for his car.

[embersofstardust]

@thetrashywritingwitch I couldn't fit this one all into one ask so here we go!

Dumb Holiday Headcanons:

1-A in order of most likely to snuggle with a blanket bc it's cold to least:

Tsu - poor froggy goes into hibernation

Aizawa - grumpy old man grumps when it's cold and likes blankets an awful lot

Koda - he strikes me as hating the cold idk

midoriya - listen you can't tell me he isn't the type to take ANY excuse to wrap himself up in his all-might blanket

bakugou - he's complained his quirk doesn't work as well in canon right? But he wouldn't DARE in public. He'd rather die. But once he's in his room, he's a blanket burrito

kaminari - but only as an excuse to snuggle with someone else, tbh the boy runs warm, just like when your computer is on for a long time

jirou - she strikes me as not being able to handle the cold too

iida - if the engines get too cold, the cold metal hurts his legs

Hagakure - she gets cold enough training with todoroki

Sato - he loves snuggling under blankets, fite me, he just usually is too warm

Tokoyami - birds don't like being cold lol

Aoyama - tbh he doesn't care either way? He's pretty resilient but once he actually gets cold he's NOT happy

Ashido - she's about the same as aoyama tbh, but she loves the snow

Uraraka - she loves being cuddled under blankets but is usually too preoccupied with something else. Now if someone INVITES her to snuggle with them, well, how could she say no?

Kirishima - tbh I see him being the kid who wears a winter coat and shorts in the winter, but he's a cuddle bug, so like uraraka, he can't say no to snuggles

Yaoyorozu - kinda like uraraka to where she's usually too busy. Probably with making all the blankets lol

Sero - not really opposed or for it, isn't exactly cold resistant but much more likely to wear a lot of layers

Ojiro - he's pretty cold resistant, and a lot of his clothes are warm, so he doesn't need to be under the blankets

Shoji - he won't ever snuggle under blankets himself, but usually ends up getting pulled into a cuddle pile anyways

Todoroki - I mean, the boy is his own heater. Tbh to him it doesn't feel that cold plus he owns a lot of scarves and turtlenecks