#hardpressed

[faithful-surrender]

I can picture myself standing on the beach during a glorious sunrise with my arms stretched outward just thanking GOD for his creation so this background was key for me today! But alas, in our Christian walks, some days are tougher than others and some require reminding ourselves that though hard times come, we may be hard pressed, but we are NOT crushed. We may be perplexed on how GOD will work out this trial facing us, but we are NOT in despair. We may be persecuted for taking a stand for GOD and Satan rears his ugly head trying to distract us from our mission, but we are NOT abandoned. And we may even feel struck down, but we are NOT destroyed! My bible says that if GOD is for me, who can be against me? I am a treasure in a jar of clay and GOD'S ALL-SURPASSING POWER IS ALWAYS WORKING! I just need be still and wait on HIM. That's not always easy, but trusting HIM is where I want to be found when HE comes again! I pray this encourages you today! 🛐✝️

#scripture #faith in jesus #treasuresinjarsofclay #holiness #trust in god #trustinginhispromises #power of god #spiritual warfare #2 corinthians #devotion #godscreation #sunrise #beachlife #the beach scene #godisable #jesus #jars of clay #hardpressed #hardpressedbutnotcrushed #perplexedbutnotdespaired #persecutedbutnotabandoned #struckdownbutnotdestroyed

[fuzzjump]

Never knew cider making could be so spicy. I should have know better with a title like Hard Pressed. Aurora Rey really hit it out of the ballpark with Mira and Dylan's opposites attract romance. They're steamy. They're combative. It was all the things you want in a story about cider making. But for reals, I thoroughly enjoyed reading this by the pool with a cold pineapple cider in my hand. Of course, no romance would be complete without the classic misplaced intentions or miscommunication. I'm usually annoyed by this, but was able to get over it quickly. Extra kudos for having a POC main character. It could have been easily glossed over in a book about cider making. Definitely going to check out other Aurora Rey books. Thank you Netgalley and Bold Stroke Books for providing an eARC for a honest review.

#I just reviewed Hard Pressed by Aurora Rey. #HardPressed #NetGalley

[kaeyachi]

Kaeya had always been an efficient and hard-working individual (he had to be to support Diluc in the background as his brother rose thru the ranks after all).

He has so much free time because he completes all his work way ahead of schedule. And if he still has enough time, he adds more to the workload in secret.

And once all of that was done and over with, he makes time for everyone. He has to. He feels as if every moment has to be given to someone else.

No one knows how he does it. No one has to know.

Every mission has a dozen strategies in line, and every battle plan is made with efficiency in mind. His perfect record will not be tarnished. He can't risk it (even if it baffles others that he would willingly activate a ruin guard just to prevent a failed mission. Jean disagrees with his methods, but Kaeya can say that the results say otherwise)

He needs to be quick.

Efficient.

Perfect.

And so he comes and goes like the wind.

Kaeya values time because he knew every second counted. He can't just stand there as if he were frozen. Time could run out in an instant.

Kaeya had only been late once his entire life.

He'd rather he never be late ever again.

It took one day of being of being imperfect for everything to fall apart. On that tragic day...had he gotten there on time... then maybe...

.

.

.

" Come on, let's get moving, traveler. We're not frozen in place after all. " Kaeya teasingly says. He stiffles a giggle at the traveler's exhasperated sigh.

"Yeah yeah, we've heard enough of you calling us a slacker. Can't you be a bit more patient?" Paimon whines at him.

Kaeya snorts, but acquiesces, hiding the shaking of his hands at the thought of being idle.

He imagines hearing a clock ticking.

Kaeya knows that that is his own problem. He tries his hardest to relax as he waits for the traveler to finish whatever they're making on the alchemy table because, seriously, it is supposed to be a relaxing day. There's nothing major going on, and his schedule is once again empty as intended. What's the hurry?

Kaeya taps his foot on the ground as he waits. He wishes he could take his own damn advice when he tells others to relax.

#kaeyachi randoms #kaeya #kaeya alberich #this is actually shorter than it originally was can yall believe? #kaeya with anxiety truther there i said it #kaeya cant stand being IDLE #get it? get it? #you see that is a play of words in reference to when he is stood idle on our screens. he is one of the more verbally impatient characters #and we also see it reflected on his actions both in fighting and at work. he has a speed boost bonus and if he isnt teleporting he is #actually moving so fast that he seems like it. this is what i also concluded that results him in large amounts of free time that only amber #seemed to be hardpressed about. the people of mondstadt find him reliable and approachable despite the lax attitude and frequent nights at #angels share. we also had lore tidbits before of kaeya straight up saying he finished all his work and jean saying that he also did the #backlogged ones. It is actually insane that we hear him relaxing frequently and i bet its not because of the lack of horses COZ LOOK AT HOW #BUSY THE OTHER CAPTAINS ARE. Also id like to think that he is a toned down noelle and that is why jean told him to watch over her training #give us noelle and kaeya interactions pls i kinda need it tbh #to all those that reached this far into the notes i actually have more to say so get ready #if it wasnt clear the only day he was late was when crepus died. everything fell apart for him that day so i can see some obsessive need to #just keep running around and doing things as efficient as possible. I also think that he found the knights slow and inefficient in several #occasions and he is willing to put them in the line of fire just to get their hearts pumping with adrenaline (and fear lol). idk kaeya is #just so anxiety-coded. impatience-core. Mr. dont waste my time type of guy. and also wow look i found a way to make his idles become angst #silly me ehe #oh youre still here? how about i tell you that kaeya-efficiency-alberich probably knows where everyone is at any time of the day? #can we honestly please give him more free time i need more of him tbh #fun reminder that bro is working around 3-4 jobs casually lmao #i also just realized that the notes is a whole nother post on its own #AND THE ACTUAL FUNNY PART IS I CAN STILL ELABORATE MORE ON THIS LMAO #wait let me add this one tiny idea too but he thinks time is so valuable. bro lost 2 dads and lost time with his bro + he significantly #lessened his time at dawn winery for quite some time. i can see why he is extroverted now.

[seesgood]

not to be That Person but people really will just get offended by anything and everything, and it’s okay to enjoy things despite other peoples’ opinions of them. 

#also ✨ everything is problematic in its own way and you will be hardpressed to find anything NOT problematic ✨ #ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs™ ﹗ ʙʏ ʟɪᴀ ⸺ ooc.

[blueiight]

reuenthal if he hung around long enough on neueland teas

#yn. #i think justin kirk is the ideal reuenthal but if not him then him #id be hardpressed to say hed be stupid enough to call himself kaiser reuenthal like ibrahim called himself sultan but if pushed to #his canon self destructive tendencies idk man #‘JUNIOR V. SENIOR EMPEROR!’ #tho ibrahim saying ‘he is my sun doesnt he know that’ does echo what reuenthal said about reinhard #ibrahim getting symbolic greek statues in his mansion foreshadowing his downfall is also like reuenthal #which is also a major deal bc islam is opposed to idolatry thats like the biggest sin. ibrahim’s troubles w his raised society as a slave #v. his past girds him. he forced hurrem to kill leo but has a much harder time cutting his own cord #bc his master was also his benefactor #i wont kill myself solely cuz i wanna make a magnificent century- yume no shizuku comp post when the manga vers of this history is finished #bc ibrahim’s demise & the reasons for it r so far in the historical record ambiguous #if u read up on the prevailing theories it kinda is like lotgh reuenthal. did he or didnt he go turncoat🤔🤔loss of favor w the sultan🤔🤔🤔 #ripe for dramatic affect lol. #lotgh #muhteşem yüzyıl

[birbwell]

NEW ONE REAL

#pillars bg art is sauuur good #ofc hardpressed to get rid of the philip remigius sidebar image #they are looking at my blog visitors in horror #birbwellspeaks

[saltypiss]

Lord of the rings and final fantasy have the same problem

If someone showed you a picture relating to either, you'd assume it was a generic art piece found on google unrelated to other media.

#perhaps they set the standard #or #perhaps they only follow the standard #either way you'd be hardpressed to guess had you known little of either.

[rykemeadow]

While other tributes that year were hardpressed to get a handful of grain or some matches for a gift, Finnick never wanted for anything, not food or medicine or weapons. It took about a week for his competitors to realize that he was the one to kill, but it was too late. He was already a good fighter with the spears and knives he had found in the Cornucopia. When he received a silver parachute with a trident—which may be the most expensive gift I've ever seen given in the arena—it was all over.

District 4's industry is fishing. He'd been on boats his whole life. The trident was a natural, deadly extension of his arm. He wove a net out of some kind of vine he found, used it to entangle his opponents so he could spear them with the trident, and within a matter of days the crown was his.

The citizens of the Capitol have been drooling over him ever since. Because of his youth, they couldn't really touch him for the first year or two. But ever since he turned sixteen, he's spent his time at the Games being dogged by those desperately in love with him. No one retains his favor for long. He can go through four or five in his annual visit. Old or young, lovely or plain, rich or very rich, he'll keep them company and take their extravagant gifts, but he never stays, and once he's gone he never comes back.

#thg #thgedit #the hunger games #finnick odair #finnick odair edit #finnickodair #i never recovered from him #like damn #my babe #mine #mystuff #mygifs #myedits

[triptrippy]

I have a problem. Your Mithrun art keeps making me simp him but then in the manga itself (and consequently the anime and most of the fandom) the elves are drawn like babyfaced cherubs. Which like good for people who are into babyfaced cherubs but I’m just... hardpressed over here. Sorry if this is weird, I just meant to say- I really like the way you draw Mithrun I guess.

sorry about your problem anon. i kind of like how theyre drawn like delicate fawns but i know what you mean i like dusty yet ripped mithrun a lot. hope all goes well

[itsohh]

Blacklight

A/N: Female reader, just a lil dumb idea that I played around with @lululandd​

Summary: The group of you head out for a 'team building' exercise of mini golf. A rather frequent occurrence and this time, Gaz has selected a blacklight theme venue. It's a real shame about that quickie you had with Ghost prior.

Word count: 2674 

Warnings: Smut

AO3 Masterlist

Parked in the dark safety of an alleyway, the night sky worked well in making the tinted windows of the car darker. A match made in heaven, no one would really notice what occurred inside. His hand wrapped around your throat, an anchor as you moved on top of him. This hadn’t been a planned thing, rushed and full of urgency the pair of you only had about ten minutes total before you would be irritatingly late. Head tilted back, your eyes were closed with a drunk expression spread across your face. He watched as your lips parted and allowed small moans to escape your lips. Your hands were planted steadily on his shoulders while your hips rolled in circles.

Ghost's pants were barely open, just enough for his cock to be comfortably free, buried deep inside of you. Your underwear was pushed to the side while your skirt covered the pair of you. His neck gaiter had pulled down to expose his face to you. A light squeeze around your neck had your eyes crack open and met his. Despite being in the dark, you could see the warm brown of his eyes that gazed into yours.

Your hips didn’t stop, couldn’t stop. Each roll, each movement of your hips had pleasure swell inside of you. So deep and incredibly full you swore you could feel him in your chest. “Simon.” You panted out his name, obvious that your second climax was near. A climax that he was determined to join you on. His large hand directed your throat towards him until you were close enough for him to plant his lips on yours once again. It was a wet messy kiss, hardpressed as you pushed your chest against his.

Simon's free arm wrapped around your waist and you could feel the way he bucked up into you. So close, there wasn’t any real rhythm to his movements, not anymore. “Simon.” You pulled back slightly and gasped against his lips while your nails dug into his shoulders.

“That's it, that's it, pretty girl. Come for me.” His voice was gruff, full of lust as he slammed into you. He pulled you hard down against his cock while you came. It was an action that finalized his own end. Inside, his cock throbbed. He groaned out as his eyes shut, his dick filling you up with as much seed as you could possibly take. It spilled over the edges of your cunt and a small amount leaked onto the edges of his pants.

Loud pants echoed from the pair of you which turned into a light laugh from you when you let go of him and blinked. “Fuck.” You ran a hand through your hair as smiled at the man, joy written across your face. The same joy was reflected across Simon's face and he let go of your throat. His hand drifted down to your thighs and lightly rubbed the top of them under your skirt. An action that you had done to him ten minutes prior that had started everything.

“You alright?” He raised a brow and you nodded.

“Yeah, just needed a second. What time is it? We should get going.” You asked and his eyes flickered to his watch.

“Let's get you cleaned up first.” The driver-side door clicked open and with one hand he gave in a push. A shutter of cold air had you gasp out and Ghost gave you a small look of sympathy. He swivelled around so his feet were planted on the ground outside. It gave you an easy way to get off his lap. The second you remove yourself from his softening cock, the pair of you both let out a groan while his seed was quick to dribble down the inside of your thighs. Your eyes fell to cock which fell to the side while Ghost leaned over to the passenger side of the car and grabbed your jacket.

“Here, before you catch a cold.”

“Thanks.” You shrugged it on while he opened the glove compartment for tissues. His focus on you, he wiped away the two lines from your thighs while you adjusted your underwear back into place. It would catch the rest of his seed, it would be wet against your cunt but a piece of you didn’t really mind. You found your phone in the pocket of your jacket and pulled it out while Simon cleaned himself up and tucked his cock away.

“Where did Gaz say this place was by the way?” Your eyes flicked up from your phone when he got out of the car, his neck gaiter and hoodie back in place. Completely cleaned up, no one would be the wiser.

“Just down the road about half a block. It’s not far, come on.” The car locked and the pair of you were on your way.

Soap waved as he spotted you both coming from afar.

“‘Bout fucking time the pair of you showed up.” Soap slapped an arm around the pair of you and squeezed in the small gap.

“Still waiting on Laswell.” Price huffed from his spot in the front of the cafe.

“Is Mrs Laswell coming?” You asked and your memory went back to the last time she brought her wife along to a game of mini golf.

-

“I beat you for real this time.” Soap smugly looked towards Gaz.

“No way, I got third this time.” No one bothered to try and get first or second place anymore. Not with Ghost and Price around.

“I dunno Soap, Gaz did pretty well in the first half.” You leaned forward while Laswell calculated the results. Forbidden from crowding around her, it was all silent when she finally cleared her throat. She had a surprised expression across her face for a split second because it was covered with a neutral poker face that she had long since perfected.

“In third place…” Everyone leaned forward. “Price.” She looked up and he shrugged. Victory didn’t have much meaning to him. Meanwhile, you, Gaz and Soap all gaped at each other. Someone else got either first or second. The first time in forever. “Second place was Ghost.” His eyes looked over to you and he gave you a quick wink before Soap and Gaz practically rushed the woman. “Get back, like a pack of dogs the pair of you.” She huffed but rolled her eyes with fake annoyance. “Well done darling, you came first.” Her eye line went towards her wife who had been rather silent. Caught off guard the woman smiled at her while Gaz and Soap stared. Who knew that she was a master at mini golf?

“Ah, maybe next time Soap. Well done. Did a hell of a job to beat those two.” Gaz praised her and everyone did a little round of applause. Meanwhile, Soap shuffled next to you.

“Yah know what she does for a living?”

“No idea. Gotta be something good to beat those two.” You whispered back.

“Only one way to find out.” He waved you his phone and you shook your hand.

“Laswell will kill us, wait until after.” You whispered a hiss and he nodded.

The moment after the couple had left, the pair of you furiously started to type away on your phones, both googling her name to find out any information.

“What are you two doin'?” Gaz asked as he slid into the booth with Ghost next to him.

“Trynna figure out why Mrs Laswell’s so good at mini golf.”

“Maybe she's got practice?” Gaz offered and the pair of you looked up.

“Nah, gotta be something else. Aren't you curious?” Soap prompts the man and soon Gaz has his phone out as well doing his own research.

“Man, I can’t find shite.” Soap grumbled when Price showed up, hands full with drinks while his phone rang. Ghost too had joined in on the group ‘project’ and Price let out a sigh when he pulled out his phone and answered.

“Forgot something?” He asked, his eyebrows raised, and the phone call was shortly cut off. The stern sound of your name came from his lips. It had you jump slightly and he soon did the same with Soap and Gaz’s name.

The three of you looked at him like deer in headlights and he gave you all a disapproving look. “What's up, Cap?” Gaz was the one to rip the bandage off and he sighed.

“Stop fucking googling Laswell's wife.”

“Hey, we would never.” Soap let out a protest and both you and Gaz jumped on it.

“Yeah cap, think you got the wrong people.”

“Dunno how you got that idea, sir.” You grinned and he gave the three of you a tired deadpan look.

“She can see all the shit you do on your phones.”

Soap stared at him wide-eyed and the three of you subtly closed the tabs. “Everything?” Soap's eye looked to the side.

“Yeah cause you morons are using your fucking work phones.” Price went to open his mouth again when his phone rang again. You saw Laswell's name pop up. His eyes narrowed and looked towards Ghost who hadn’t been part of the conversation.

“Would the unknown person with the Swedish IP please stop googling her wife?” The three of you looked at each other confused and you leaned towards Soap.

“Hey, that's a really good idea to use a VPN.” Your hush voice spoke and he nodded in agreement. Price took the phone away from his ear and placed it on the table with the speaker on.

“Whoever's on their personal phone I can still gain access rather quickly. I get notified when her name is searched. If you don’t stop digging right this moment I will take control of your phone and I will go digging.” Her voice had you all frozen with wide eyes.

“It's closed.” Ghost's voice had your heads' snap towards him in surprise. It was so obvious yet none of you had connected it. Laswell let out a small sigh of relief.

“Thank you. If you want to know more about her, next time ask her directly. I trust this won't happen again?”

“Yes ma’am.” There was an echo as the line went dead and Price sat down and grabbed his drink with a grumble.

-

Gaz’s voice brought you back to the present.

“Nah, Laswell said it's just her this time.” Gaz stretched. He had a grin on his face, it lit up his entire face and you could tell he had been looking forward to his pick.

“So what is this place? You barely told us anything about it.” You asked as Laswell approached.

“Apologies, hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

“Ah don’t sweat it, Laswell.” Gaz led the group through the cafe to the front entrance where you all grabbed a club. “This is a pretty standard mini golf place but it's blacklight themed.”

“Sure is!” The attendant smiled. “Party of six for today?” She cheerfully asked as she led the group to the cashier. She then led you all into a highly decorated area, and not many people were around. Neons were all over the place with spray-painted fake trees and an outlined course. It was a nice place.

You were at about the third hole when you noticed it. The way the light hit Ghost's pants. You froze and he raised a brow when he noticed the way your eyes stared at his crotch. The small areas that his cum had leaked now glowed rather brightly under the light. All colour drained from your face.

“Here, your turn.” Soap moved for you and you nervously shot your ball. When you bent over slightly, your ass stuck out and Ghost could see the small lines that glowed down your inner thighs. It was far more noticeable the higher he could see, the areas where his cum had overflowed and settled between the pair of you. You managed to get your ball in on the first hit and when you started to walk back, Gaz was already working on following your example.

“Hey uh LT, I think you got a little something on your–” Soap had noticed the marks too but hadn’t quite connected the dots. Soap's voice trailed off as Ghost stared at the man. Emotionless. He opened his mouth but closed it again to turn to you. The same expressionless look was on your face. His face turned back to Ghost and then his crotch. “Just uh right uh-”

“Got what Sergeant?” Ghost’s voice was cold, almost daring him to continue, to figure it out.

“You know what? Don’t worry ‘bout it.” Price came up with Laswell and she headed towards the line as Gaz leaned on the wall. His eyes glanced at Ghost’s crotch like everyone else.

“That’s cum innit?” Gaz immediately said with no hesitation and you let out a cough of surprise. Prices glanced over to your thighs that had pressed together under your skirt.

“Cowgirl.” Price nodded towards Gaz and you could feel the way that your face heated up due to the conversation. Ghost's brows lowered in an annoyed fashion but he let them have their fun. Soap's eyes darted from yours to Ghost before he whipped his head around to look at Price.

“How in the hell did you figure-”

“Boys, do you mind? I’m trying to take my shot.” Lawsell let out a sigh and everyone went dead silent. She lifted her club and Price let out a small snicker under his breath, his eyes on yours.

“Seems Ghost already did.”

Kate's club collided and her ball flicked to the side and off the course. Laswell let out a small sigh while Gaz laughed with Price.

-

You watched as Price finished up the final shot of the night and gave his score to Laswell. Ghost silently appeared next to him and you turned and gave him a small smile. “You alright?”

“Yeah, could go for a shower.” You hummed out a laugh and his eyes squinted in a smile.

“Right, in third place…” Your conversation was cut off as Laswell started. “Ghost.”

“Bit off your game tonight hun?” You whispered and his eyes sized up your body.

“Bit of a distraction you are.”

“Second place, Price.”

“Hmm, what's Price’s excuse?” You hushly spoke and Ghost leaned against your ear.

“Never said you were distracting me. Dirty old bastard that one.” You elbowed him in the side.

“Heard that Simon.” Price spoke to the left of you but there weren’t any hurt feelings or hostility. Only a long-term friendship and familiarity. “Takes one to know one doesn’t it?”

“Right on that Captain.” Ghost nodded.

“First place for the first time. Soap. Well done.” Soap beamed at the result while everyone gave him a small applause.

“Right, your drinks on me then.” Gaz slapped Soap on the back and the group of you headed out into the cafe bar.

“You two calling it a night?” Laswell asked as you started to follow Ghost. He gave you a look that told you it was up to you.

“Yeah, catch up on some rest.”

“Can’t argue with that. Have a good night.” She nodded and you waved off to the rest of the group. Before you got out of earshot you managed to hear them for one last time.

“Maybe no more blacklight next time Gaz? Scared ‘em off.” Price's laugh of a taunt had you giggle and Ghost raised a brow at you but soon joined in on your light mood. With his arm around your shoulders the pair of you retired for the night, but not to sleep.

#ghost x reader #simon riley #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #call of duty #modern warfare 2

[bleedinqdove]

Hi! Can I request headcanons for how Rocky would go about his feelings for a reader that's the niece of Sedgewick?

Rocky Rickaby with a reader who’s the niece of Wick.

A/n: I got a bit carried away with this request as you see…but I hope you enjoy anon cause I had so much fun writing this!

SFW.

(Couldn’t stop myself from adding a song)

-First of all, I want to say this gives off major lady and the tramp vibes.

-Since Wick himself is rich and influential, no doubt your family is too.

-And then there’s Rocky a rum runner and a fellow who does odd jobs for the Lackadaisy Speakeasy

-You two met at the Little Daisy Cafe when you were with your Uncle Wick.

You quickly got bored as your Uncle was busy talking with some pretty lady named Mitzi. You rolled your eyes as you turned your head to look at something more interesting…and less disturbing than your Uncle’s flirting.

And you do find something that catches your eye! Looking over your seat you spot a grey tabby pouring a rather alarming amount of syrup on his pancakes. Your eyebrows raise in intrigue as a smile crosses your lips. You look over into his booth, tilting your head slightly.

“Well, ain’t that interesting…I’ve never seen anyone who liked syrup this much.” You said with a light-hearted chuckle.

The grey tabby raises his head to look up at you before he flashes a sharp smile a proud look on his face. “You’d be hardpressed to find a gentleman who likes pancakes n’ syrup more than me!”

You giggled at his response before shaking your head a smirk playing on your lips. “Do you have a name, Mister? Or would Sir-Pours-A-Lot suffice?”

“Rocky, Rocky Rickaby…and you? Miss…?” He asked raising an eyebrow.

“Sable. Y/n Sable.”

-And the two of you continued to chat after that, which didn’t escape Ivy’s attention. Right before you left, Ivy slipped a small black pin of a clover into your hands and whispered something in your ear.

-Which kickstarted a whole new life for you.

-Almost every other night you snuck out to the speakeasy…excited to see a particular pancake-loving cat.

-At first, when Rocky met you he was quite intrigued by your curious behavior, and not to mention those witty comebacks of yours.

-You two just played off each other so well…so it wasn’t surprising he found himself falling rather hard.

-He’d look forward to those nights you did come to visit the speakeasy, talking to you about his exciting rum running adventures.

-It’s almost like he was trying to impress you…and he was! The way you looked at him with such awe and intrigue every time he told you a story stroked his ego just a tiny bit…

-You, being the sheltered thing you are, found the stories very interesting, even wishing you were there.

-Yet despite all these feelings of admiration and elation, Rocky couldn’t help but feel insecure…and a little jealous.

-Your wealth and status were apparent, you were Wick’s niece after all!

-If you two were ever to be in a relationship, your parents would most definitely never approve.

-Not to mention he’s already plagued with thoughts that you’ll leave him for a better, richer man…and he couldn’t blame you…but the thought makes him feel sick with jealousy and sadness.

-But every time he was caught in his doubtful thinking you’d flash him that pretty smile of yours and he’d find himself falling head over heels all over again.

-What can I say? he’s a fool for you!

-And being so he can’t himself getting closer and closer to you.

-Neither can you.

-Despite knowing this relationship was probably doomed you couldn’t help but fall further as well, you were young, dumb, and in love after all. The recipe for a perfect beautiful disaster.

Sitting against a tree with your head resting against his shoulder you closed your eyes and sighed, feeling the cold chill of the night air. You slowly opened your eyes and looked up at Rocky, parting your lips to speak.

“You think we can actually do this?”

He’s silent for a moment before he looks down and places his hand over yours, that signature sharp-toothed smile on his face.

“Well, I made it this far, Haven’t I?”

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy x reader #rocky rickaby x reader #rocky rickaby #x reader #fluff #sorry this was a bit late #had to write an essay…that I procrastinated on

[dk-thrive]

Be near me when my light is low, When the blood creeps, and the nerves prick And tingle; and the heart is sick.

— Alfred, Lord Tennyson, from "In Memoriam" (HardPress, January 31, 2019)

#Lord Tennysons #light #low #sad #depressed #lonely #love #hurt #down

[ahedderick]

Trout Print

I looked at Joann fabric's online store and found several very nice trout-themed prints that would make a stellar shirt for a certain fisheries biology major in my house. I went to the local store and, rats!, they did not have any of the nice prints, only a couple of cartoonish or marine-themed ones. I bought a couple of things I wanted for other projects*, and told the lady who was trying to help me find them that I'd order online; I just wanted to try to buy at the local store if possible. Since I had close to 70$ of other merchandise in my arms, I didn't feel too bad about that. She thanked me very sincerely for making the effort to buy from them, and as far as shopping disappointments go, it was an unusually nice one.

Anyhow, the online store has so many I will be hardpressed to choose.

there was a very soft plaid material that, given the cold rain coming down outside, called out to me in a loud, clear voice.

#fabric #sewing #sewblr #homemade #handmade #fiber art

[tommybowefuneralattendee]

362, spommy :]

number 362 on the spreadsheet is from this list of prompts the prompt you generated in specific is: hesitantly tugging the other's fabric of their shirt or sleeve, testing the waters

linked on ao3 || read under the cut || 4.4k, rated T

The first time Spencer feels a pull at the bottom of his shirt from a person who is not less than ten years old, he's at work. It's not a big deal. He's in the middle of something, sure, but it doesn't feel insistent. Whoever it is waits for the minute that he's directing stuff for Games, silent until Spencer turns around to see them. And it's Tommy. So it's not like he was ever going to be mad anyway. He raises his eyebrows, looking up at the other man's face with a smile. Tommy's fingers pinch at the hem of the front of his shirt now. He's so fucking cute.

"Hey," Tommy says, just looking at Spencer for a moment without speaking. They've agreed not to do the whole public display of affection at work thing (and in general), out of respect for everyone else but also just because they haven't been together that long. That was one of the surprises of the beginning of their relationship, honestly. He's always been somewhat affectionate in his relationships, sure, and he had thought that he had been clingy in previous relationships. He can't keep his fucking hands off of Tommy, though, and it doesn't seem like vice versa is happening either. Like somewhat in a sexual way, but also in the fact that Spencer wants to be touching him all the time, and he wants to look at him all the time, and he has never thought of himself as a guy in one of those annoying couples, openly besotted with one another, but well. Then he met Tommy.

"Hi," he replies, that saccharine honeymoon phase sweetness wrapping even around that single word. Tommy pulls him a little closer, fingers twisting in the bottom of Spencer's shirt. It's fucking cute, so he's not even irritated by it. He just fucking likes the guy so much. They've been officially dating a month or so, and he can't decide whether they should be over this part yet, but he doesn't know how to love Tommy at a lower volume and he's not super into the idea of teaching himself how.

"You look good today," Tommy says. Spencer snorts, rolling his eyes and looking away from his boyfriend.

"Did you just interrupt your whole day to come tell me I look pretty?"

"Hey now, I said you look good, no one ever said pretty," Tommy protests, wrinkling his nose.

"So you don't think I'm pretty?" Spencer asks, outright grinning now with it being so easy to wind Tommy up. Tommy breathes out through his nose and obviously tries not to rise to Spencer's bait, but after a moment of inaction scrunches his nose and physically shakes off the sensation of attempting to limit his ire.

"That is also not what I said! I do think you're pretty, I just didn't know if that was, like, an okay compliment for you, some guys are uncomfortable with it," he says, his tone embarrassed and waspish as he peters off there. Spencer can't fucking help but look at Tommy like he hung the moon in the sky. He rocks on his feet into the other man's orbit.

"You can call me whatever you want," Spencer says, not without a note of challenge. Tommy raises an eyebrow, returning the challenge.

"Anything?"

"Within reason," he says, trying to stick a caveat of sorts on it, but he's hardpressed to think of a single thing he wouldn't at least consider with Tommy. It's Tommy. If he's into something a little weirder than handcuffs and shit, then, like, whatever, right? It's Tommy. Several images pass through his mind at once of doing things he's never done in his life with Tommy, images he does not allow himself to linger upon at all because they are at work, dude, keep it together. Tommy's looking down at him with a smile and narrowed eyes, like Spencer is something he's trying to figure out.

"You would totally, like, actually let me call you Daddy if I wanted to. Dude, you like me so much it makes you look stupid," Tommy observes, because there really is no other word for it. It's true, Spencer does. Still, he scoffs.

"How dare you? My stupidity makes me look stupid, so jot that down," he says, snorting at his own joke as Tommy swats at him.

"Shut up, you're not stupid, stupid," Tommy sputters, one of his hands lifted like he's going to push Spencer back, but he just lays his palm flat on Spencer's chest instead. Spencer puts his own hand over it, fondness thick in his throat as he laces their fingers one over another.

"You say such sweet things to me, baby," he says, maybe a little quieter than an appropriate speaking volume but a little louder than a whisper, surely. The desire to pull Tommy down to kiss him is so strong it aches, clawing through him like hunger pangs. Tommy is looking at him like he can't help but agree.

"This is not work appropriate, Spencer Agnew," he says, lips pursed. They're shiny. Spencer flicks his gaze back up to make eye contact.

"You're the one who came over here to tell me I look pretty, dude," he replies, the desire to kiss Tommy not getting any smaller, and the gap between them not getting any larger. Knuckles are knocked against the door frame twice and they both look over, seeing a sheepish Shayne shrugging his shoulders.

"Hey guys, sorry, but Lisa said she needed Tommy, and Spence, you're about five minutes late for a meeting," he reminds them both, smiling apologetically before he taps the door frame again and moves on with his day. They separate from one another reluctantly, Spencer squeezing Tommy's fingers between his own before heading down to his meeting. It could have been an email. He doesn't see Tommy again til the end of the workday; Tommy walks him to his car, opens his stupid fucking door for him, stands with Spencer's car door open and leans against it while they finish their conversation, the whole nine. He kisses Spencer and asks him to come over, in the parking lot where anybody could see them. Spencer makes the drive to Tommy's apartment with the memory of that kiss burning within him.

They have a really nice night together. Tommy makes him promise to text him when he gets home. Something hot and bright takes up residence in his rib cage.

He's editing when he feels it this next time, and the fact that it's a recurrence rather than the first time does make it less surprising to find that it's Tommy pinching the fabric of the shoulder of Spencer's shirt between two fingers. He finds a stopping place pretty quickly and then spins his chair around to face Tommy, who is much closer than Spencer thought he was. Like, logically, it makes sense that Tommy was right behind him before he turned the chair but now Spencer's boyfriend is looming over him and wow, that's hot actually. He's a short king but he's never really dated someone taller than him before; most of his exes are cis women around average height. Tommy is like half a foot taller than him. Sitting down, Spencer has to tilt his head back to look at him, hooking his fingers in Tommy's belt loops.

"What's up?" he asks with a grin, helplessly happy to see Tommy as always. Tommy's expression goes soft just for looking at him and it sends warmth through Spencer.

"I had a question," Tommy says, though instead of asking anything, he just continues to look at Spencer. Spencer grins.

"Forgot your question, huh, Squidward?"

"Despite it happening every time, I still get surprised that you're always cuter than the last time I saw you." Spencer groans.

"Baby, you are down so bad for me. Listen to yourself," he says, leaning his head against Tommy's stomach. Tommy cards his fingers through his hair and Spencer fights the urge to go pliant against him and just let Tommy hold him up. There's a worried quality to the gentleness of his hands, like he's handling Spencer with care. It's equal parts nice and disorienting. He doesn't know that anyone has ever looked after him like Tommy does. Tommy tilts Spencer's head back into his hands, his thumbs behind Spencer's ears as he adjusts Spencer to look at him. Spencer just lets himself be moved. What is he if not supplicant beneath Tommy's hands?

"You okay?" Tommy asks, head tilted. Spencer gives a short laugh and nods as well as he can, looking down and away from making eye contact with Tommy. So maybe he hasn't been sleeping well lately, and maybe he hasn't slept well since the last night he and Tommy slept in the same bed, but even if those things were true, they would be Spencer's problems and not Tommy's problems. It's Spencer's own fault he barely takes care of himself. He's overcaffeinated and overworked and he knows that, it's just that knowing that doesn't mean there's less work to do and it doesn't mean he has more time to sleep. Giving a small concerned noise, Tommy runs his fingers through Spencer's hair, which is not a fair thing to do when Spencer is trying to compose himself.

"I'm fine, Tommy," he says, knowing as soon as it drops out of his mouth that he said that a little too flatly for Tommy to go with it. True to form, Tommy frowns.

"Hey, I wanna help. We've talked about this, bub," Tommy says, and they have, and Spencer sighs. It was one of their first... it wasn't a fight, really. They haven't been together that long, they haven't gotten into any real fights yet. There is, however, a pretty open policy to their relationship where if something is bothering them, they bring it up. He had actually been the one to bring it up, thinking about Tommy's disposition to hold a grudge, the way he minimizes his own annoyance til it explodes. Tommy had agreed to tell him if he was ever bothered, but not without some conditions of his own. Tommy will ask for help as long as Spencer will too. So yeah, Spencer sighs.

"Come over tonight?" he asks, leaning back into Tommy's hands. Tommy raises his eyebrows.

"Come over like have dinner together or come over like-"

"Come over like spend the night, Tommy. Come over like sleep in my bed," Spencer clarifies, low and honest. Nodding, Tommy starts to lean down, aborting the motion after thinking it through, probably. They're at work. Even a quick kiss is too much PDA for work, right? They're in public. It doesn't mean that Tommy pulling away without kissing him doesn't sting a little. They agreed on little to no PDA.

He still can't control the way his face falls. He's not a miracle worker.

"I should get back... I'll come find you if I remember my question?" Tommy asks, posing it as a question as if Spencer would ever not want Tommy around. Be so fucking for real. Spencer gives him a smile and a nod and Tommy squeezes his shoulder. It's not the kind of goodbye that Spencer would like them to have with one another. He doesn't even know what he would rather them do, but this thing where they're not acting any different than when they were just friends is throwing him off. And like, they agreed to no PDA and he's aware of that, and he's cool with that! He'd never want Tommy to do something he's not comfortable with. Maybe it would be nice, though. Who knows?

It isn't just happening at work now. At the grocery store, when they're cooking dinner together, if he wants to hold Spencer's hand while they're walking. Tommy'll just tug on Spencer's sleeve or the bottom of his shirt or the lapel of his jacket or his belt loops, using anything really to get a grip on Spencer to get his attention. A lot of the time, Tommy looks at him apologetically after he does it, like he hadn't meant to do it and thinks Spencer is annoyed with him for it. But like, Spencer couldn't be further from annoyed if he tried. It's fucking cute, you know?

And like of course it's cute. It's Tommy. Be realistic.

When they end up having to talk about it, Spencer is glad that they're at home. Tommy's place, anyway. Home is relative these days. They're standing in the kitchen debating what they're going to eat, and Spencer was looking through the cabinet when there's a pull at the back of his shift. Used to it by now, Spencer smiles and turns, Tommy's hand moving to the front hem. For some reason, he's not expecting Tommy to look embarrassed, retracting his hand.

"Sorry-" Tommy starts, but Spencer takes his wrist in hand, pulling it back to rest at the hem of his shirt. Tommy doesn't return to the action at first, so Spencer makes it more obvious, holding the fabric out for Tommy to grab. He does so reluctantly.

"I don't mind," Spencer assures, smile soft as he looks up at Tommy. Tommy looks down at him, obviously skeptical, expression still tinged with that thick embarrassment Spencer would do anything to assuage.

"You don't mind that I tug on your shirt like a little kid," Tommy says, deadpan and flat. Spencer shrugs.

"I mean, yeah," he says. It's that simple for him. He doesn't mind. Why would he mind? It's cute. It's sweet. It's Tommy. Why the fuck would he mind?

"I know it's annoying, Spence, you don't have to pretend it isn't," Tommy continues, cynical smile splitting his mouth. Spencer grabs Tommy's hand back from where it's holding onto his shirt, lacing their fingers and pulling Tommy over to the couch. Some conversations are better had sitting down and holding onto one another, and so they will. He sits down and pulls Tommy to stand in front of him, leading him to sit forward in Spencer's lap and pulling him closer then into a hug. Tommy breathes out a relaxing breath through his nose slowly, tucking it into the rolled collar of Spencer's hoodie. Hands spread across Tommy's back to hold him close, Spencer takes it upon himself to clarify something.

"I like it," he says, to which Tommy immediately rears back to squint at him.

"You what." It doesn't even sound like a question, still Spencer smiles and answers, holding his hand to Tommy's cheek.

"I like when you pull on my shirt, or my sleeve, or my belt loops, or whatever. It's cute and it-" he pauses, unsure if the other part is something you tell other people or just an inside his head thought. He doesn't always know how to tell those apart. Tommy hooks his fingers where he had tucked his nose before.

"And it what, Spence?" he asks, quiet and gentle, and Spencer could swear he was the one doing the reassuring here. Sometimes it feels like they pass the idea of being the composed one back and forth, bloodhounds for one another's soft spots. Spencer clears his throat, looking down and to the left.

"It makes me feel like you need me. That part's kinda nice," he admits, clearing his throat again like that'll get rid of the ball of anxiety that he just can't swallow. A confused noise follows that, and when Spencer looks at him, Tommy only looks more puzzled than he did before.

"I do need you," Tommy says, dropping this as if it's obvious and the idea of someone not coming to the same conclusion had never even occurred to Tommy. Spencer raises a skeptical eyebrow, cognizant of the fact that they haven't been together very long, and Tommy could bounce back from breaking up with him pretty quickly if they did it now. Sometimes, it feels like he's always going to be waiting for that other shoe to drop. "Baby, you're my friend. Like even if I wasn't totally crazy about you, which, for the record, I am, we've been friends a good little while here. We've spoken almost every day for several years. I love you." There's a lump in Spencer's throat and Tommy's holding his face like he's something precious and Spencer doesn't know what to do with all of this sincerity.

"We were talking about you," he protests weakly, his expression souring. Tommy leans down and kisses him gently, backing off after just a moment of contact. Spencer strains up to follow him, but Tommy stays out of his reach. Fucking tall boyfriend. Asshole.

"I want to talk about you, now," Tommy says, using his hand on Spencer's jaw to tilt his head up a little more, making it nearly impossible to do anything besides make eye contact with him. He has pretty eyes. That's not really what they're talking about, though.

"I like when you grab onto me because it makes me feel like... it makes me feel like you want me around more than you care about looking normal and social niceties and being in public. It makes me feel like you don't mind what other people think if it means we're touching. It's really dumb, and romanticized, and I know I'm being like. Weird about it. So like, it's an in-my-head thing. I just don't want you to think that I'm annoyed with you for holding onto me, or pulling me places or whatever. I think it's neat. I don't know," he rambles, just closing his eyes halfway through because he doesn't know if he can bear how Tommy has to be looking at him right now. He knows he's weird in relationships sometimes. He likes the idea of someone (of Tommy) liking him to the point of caring more about having him close than about whatever societal rules they're supposed to be observing. They agreed upon little to no PDA. It's completely cool with him, but. The pulling is nice.

"Baby," Tommy whispers, brushing a kiss along Spencer's cheek as he tries to wrap himself entirely around Spencer through determination alone, his knees closing around Spencer's hips like somebody is gonna try and lift him off his boyfriend's lap or some shit. Spencer rubs his hand up Tommy's back again, not saying a goddamn word. "I want you like. All the time, dude. I like holding your hand and kissing you in public and being the sappy couple with you. I just didn't want to push it because we decided no PDA from go. Why did we decide on no PDA if we're both cool with PDA?" he asks, sounding more like he's musing aloud than actually posing the question. Still, Spencer answers. Such is his nature.

"I thought you wouldn't want to. Like, as a. Okay, logically, I know that we are together at least partially because you're attracted to me, but it's hard to remember sometimes that this incredibly hot guy is actually cool with the idea of people knowing we're in a relationship," he says, saying way too much and immediately pressing his face back into Tommy's shoulder and wishing he could, like, disappear or something. He's aware of the fact that his self esteem these days probably falls beneath double digits on the assessment they make you take at doctor's appointments when they know you're mentally ill. Like, he's aware. It's just that it's easier not to talk about it, to make it small and ignore it, self aggrandize til everyone thinks he believes his own myth too, and it's some fucking bullshit. Having low self esteem is some bullshit.

"The way that you think I would not sit on your lap in front of everyone we know is extraordinarily funny to me seeing as I do not know if I could project a more down bad for you vibe if I fucking tried, dude," Tommy says, smooth sarcasm running through his voice even as he makes Spencer blush a lurid red. He strokes his thumb over Spencer's cheekbone. Looking at him makes Spencer's heart ache, fondness almost as thick as nausea in his throat. Like love is something that he has to cough up, wisteria spreading itself through the branches of his bronchial tubes. He doesn't know what to do with all of that feeling.

"I really fucking like you, Tommy," he whispers, leaning into Tommy's hand. Tommy leans in and presses another kiss to his lips.

"Well, that's great, because I really fucking like you too, Spencer. I really fucking like you," Tommy repeats, kissing him again, longer this time and so sweet. Spencer lowers one of his hands and grabs Tommy's ass just because he can. Tommy breaks the kiss, snorting and pushing his face down against Spencer's collarbone.

"It's a nice ass," Spencer says, shrugging the shoulder that Tommy is leaning on. Experiencing the honk of Tommy's laugh this close would probably be startling if Spencer wasn't always looking to make it happen, always ready for it because it's what he wants to be happening. He likes making Tommy laugh like that, striking him with amusement he wasn't expecting to the level that he's not prepared for it, that he loses all sense of volume control. More in the positive, Tommy presses a kiss to his cheek, the laughter something Spencer can now feel as well, and he's in love with Tommy, fuck, he's in love with him. He won't tell him now. But fuck, it's true.

He isn't sure if when Tommy said he loved him, if he- it's really early for them to be saying I love you, right? Like, they've been friends for years, sure, but there's a pace that is supposed to apply here and it sure as fuck is not applying. But Tommy meant that he loves Spencer like he's always loved Spencer, like they've been friends since they started working together kind of love for Spencer. They're still working on the in love thing. There's no fucking way Tommy is in as deep as he is on this. He's this deep in because it's Tommy. Wait a fucking second.

"I think I just realized that you actually like me. Like right now. Like with you in my lap? Yeah. Like I think my brain has only been processing the part where I'm in love with you, and like the other side of that equation just never hit me before right now. Holy shit. You like me. Like genuinely," Spencer rambles, unable to stop the pace of his speech just given the absolute revelation of this, and how fucking dumb it is that this feels like a revelation. Tommy is looking down at him with open confusion. Well, he can dig that. He is aware that the way his brain works isn't always, like. Good. For him or for others. Realization crosses Tommy's face and he tenses, blinking and looking away from Spencer's face before he speaks.

"I don't make you feel like I love you?" he says, soft and a little sad. Fuck. He reaches up and cups Tommy's face in his palm, running his thumb over Tommy's cheekbone. He waits to speak til Tommy's looking at him, big brown eyes finally meeting his own.

"You make me feel so fucking special, dude. You make feel taken care of, and cared about, and enjoyed, and appreciated, and worthy in a way I didn't even know I was fucking missing. It just didn't click for me that like- that's. That's you loving me. That is me being loved by you," he says, trailing off with the last bit, heart pounding in his ears. Holy shit. That's how Tommy has looked at him this entire time, isn't it? He feels like he's been ignoring an entire aspect of their relationship, the obvious conclusion blocked by stupid ass low self esteem. Tommy leans down and kisses him softly, gentle and tender and all of that bullshit that makes Spencer feel so fucking loved under his hands. He loves him. Holy shit. How is anyone normal about being in love? This is crazy. What the fuck.

"I love you. Dumbass," Tommy murmurs against his jaw, leaning down on Spencer's shoulder. Spencer wraps his arms around him.

"I love you too," he says, the feeling of this interaction, this reassurance, this love a warm weight in his stomach, heat rising through his chest.

"You need to tell me if you feel like that," Tommy reminds him, bussing a kiss across his cheek. Spencer makes a vaguely agreeing noise.

"You need to tell me if you feel like that, too. I don't want you to ever feel like I'm annoyed by you being you. I'm not. I like when you pull me places and I like that you flirt with me badly when you're drunk and I like when you talk through movies and I like when you tell me about Drag Race I've never seen and I like everything else you've ever apologized to me just for doing. That's kinda, like, part of loving you, dude. I love you. Cute little habits and all," he rambles into Tommy's shoulder, unable to make himself pull back and look up at Tommy to say any of this. He doesn't like talking feelings shit. It's awkward and vulnerable and it makes him feel a little nauseous, but again. This is Tommy. If Tommy needs to know how absolute insane about him Spencer is, then well, he's gonna have to put his big boy pants on and tell him. Fuck.

"You really love me, huh?" Tommy says softly, like he's having the same revelation Spencer had a few minutes ago. Spencer chuckles roughly, leaning up to fumble through kissing Tommy gently, tears in his eyes.

"I think we need to start believing each other more, baby," he whispers, pulling a laugh from Tommy as well. His heart aches in his chest. Tommy kisses him, gentle and steady, before pushing himself up out of Spencer's lap, standing to his full height. He extends a hand to Spencer once he's firmly on his feet. Spencer raises an eyebrow.

"I'm thinking we lay down in bed and look through delivery apps for a little while?" Tommy proposes. Spencer lets himself be pulled up, lets himself be lead, lets himself be loved.

They end up ordering Chinese.

#spommy #spencer #tommy #smosh fic #rpf #prompt filled #ask answered #hope you like it !! #anonymous #mine

[godspeed-turtles]

i like to think, based on nothing besides pure projection, that mikey was actually a very quiet kid. not that he never talked, but more-so like he kept kinda to himself by drawing or reading comics and really only talked about stuff with splinter. other than that he was pretty quiet and be hardpressed for conversation.

this isn’t to say he didn’t cause chaos, but it’s so funny to imagine the bros desperately trying to make conversation with this kid for years, and then one day he just starts talking and never shuts up.

#he’s autistic btw #look at him #c’mon #leonardo tmnt #michelangelo tmnt #tmnt 2012 #raphael tmnt #april oneil #mikey tmnt #donatello tmnt #2012 mikey #casey jones #fanfic prompt #tmnt headcanons #headcanon aside

[fivenightsatfreddysfanfiction]

imagine losing most of your life (childhood memories and friends, awful job that wants you dead) to a pizzeria, living somewhat normally for less than thirty years, then being dragged back into the whole situation with your kids for another decade before reincarnating into a complete happy ending override. mike would be in his right to burn utah down at that point

Considering what Mike had the potential to do and what Gregory has shown to be capable of doing so far, I'm hardpressed to figure out which form is the more dangerous one. LMAO

The only thing currently sparing the Afton Family and Fazbear Entertainment is Mike's memories being a shredded mess cuz if Gregory ever got more than just what he has now, that kid's rampage would probably wreck the state economy for the next few years.

#the writer rambles #parlourverse au #mike schmidt #fnaf gregory