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#laundry is not done
scleroticstatue · 9 months
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Me, waiting until the last possible second to do everything: I just wish I didn't have so much to do
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skrunksthatwunk · 19 days
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non-comprehensive haruhi autism creature comp
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i mean just look at him she's literally
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hellenhighwater · 4 months
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How do you have the energy to have so many cool creative things on the go at once? What keeps you going?
Well, I've got the winning combo of ADHD and insomnia, so I'm usually hyperfocused on something into the wee hours.
But also....I want to? And I only kind of get a choice about it. I may sometimes neglect the dishes in the sink but it's a rare week that I'm not so taken by some idea that I won't be able to sleep until I've at least sketched it out, or priced out the materials, or done some research on it to move towards the point where I can start fabrication. And it's so rewarding. It's nice that most of what I'm making I do just for fun, so if I lose interest in something it's okay if it sits at the wayside for a while, and I only have to make the things I'm really excited about.
It's not ADHD without executive dysfunction, as I semi-regularly get tagged. It's more like my executives were supposed to be running a Fortune 500 company but instead they found the crayons and we are making the loveliest mural on the boardroom walls.
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bigassmoonchild · 8 months
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Mirrors
Pairing: Captain John Price x Reader
Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: Price and the 141 join forces with another special forces team, tracking down a known mercenary and trying to protect a much-hated political figure. Price gets distracted by the captain he's working with.
Content Tags: Smut, Mentions of Violence, Some fluff, Oral Sex (M Receiving), Fingering, Slight Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, PiV Sex, Dom! Price, Slightly Mean Price, Mirror Sex
A/N: I'm really spoiling y'all. I probably won't post this frequently in the future, I've just been in a writing mood. It'll turn out to be once every Friday and/or Saturday. As always, content is under the cut and my asks are open <3.
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"Hey Price, how are we going to know who to not shoot if shit goes down?" Soap asked through the comms, Price looking out the windows to try and find the man. He took a sip of the drink he was holding, watered down whiskey that he's been holding on to since they got there.
Price looked around the venue, counting the people working with him. "Anyone wearing red," his eyes landed on you. Bright red dress hugging your curves, a sly smile on your face as you spoke with someone. Your eyes never stopped moving, catching his for a second before moving on.
He kept looking around. Price could see the political figure they were sent to protect, some American whose head was on the black market. A few of your own soldiers were scattered around, some sitting at the bar, others chatting amongst themselves near entry points.
From the debriefing you'd given, it was a hit or miss when it came to whether or not he would be attempting to snipe the man or go in for a quick shot. So you'd gotten Ghost and Soap, alongside two of your own sharp-shooters to set up at vantage points along the outside of the high-rise, the rest would set up inside. It was your decision to mark the teams a color, just in case the sharp-shooters got confused within the confusion of someone causing a panic.
Price had liked you from the beginning. Quick witted and smart, letting him relax from taking the lead for once. He'd known you just under 24 hours and you intrigued him.
"You might want to stop staring, Price, it could lead to some unwanted attention," your voice came through the comms, and when he looked for you, you hadn't been in the same place you were just a few moments ago.
Your arm wrapped around his, giggling a little but staring through him.
"Seriously, the guy in white has been watching me for a few minutes now, and I don't think he just wants to buy me a drink," you shifted just a bit, allowing Prices head to move in the direction the guy you'd been talking about. Price gave a fake laugh, pulling you in closer to him, watching the man turn away.
Price looked down at you. "Do you think he knows?" You looked away for a moment, giving a faint shrug at that. "Is he someone from your past?" You grimaced slightly. "Oh lord, do tell," he smiled slightly.
You pulled back a bit, giving a small face. "He was wanted a few years back for attempted murder on some big guy, he got the military sent after him and we were who got sent. He really didn't like that, especially when he was released with no connections to the crime," you glanced back slightly, eyes flittering to find the man, but he seemed to disappear.
Price looked as well, but couldn't find him, so his eyes found yours again and tugged you a little closer.
"You know what?" You hummed in response. "I don't quite think I've seen someone quite as beautiful as you," you snorted, shaking your head.
"Very forward, aren't you?" You smiled at him. He gave a shrug, eyes looking over you. "As much as I appreciate the compliment, I do think your pretty little eyes should be looking elsewhere," you whispered to him.
Price found himself looking over your head, finding Gaz giving him an interesting look before gazing away. "We both know how often we have time for interesting people, might as well take the time we have, huh?" You rolled your eyes a little, sliding your hands up his chest.
"I can't help but agree with that sentiment, John," you smiled, spinning in his arms and gazing out across the room. "I think it'll seem a little suspicious that we're standing together so long, so I'll be back to 'flirting' with whoever will talk to me," you used air quotes, rolling your eyes softly before disappearing back amongst the crowd. Price gave a small laugh, taking another sip of the watered down whiskey and glancing back around the room.
A few more men walked in, all wearing white as well. This caught his attention, watching as they met up with the first man. He watched you spin slightly towards them, keeping the group of guys in your line of sight. You gave Price a small glance over your glass, looking back at the men and he tilted his head back, going to take a sip from his glass to cover his mouth.
"Keep an eye on the men in white," affirmatives were given to him over the comms, and he could see a few of your own men shifting themselves to get an eye on the group.
The group of them had started to surround the man the group of you were hired to protect, and you watched as a few of your own men started to tense.
Your fingers twitched, making the men in your squad pause. Price watched as you stood, nearly gliding over to one of the new-comers and dragging him away, rubbing yourself on him and whispering something in his ear. Price could see the smirk from where he stood, watching as you guided him to a couch and your hand sliding to his neck.
Price assumed it was a tranq you hit him with, watching the man slump over before you stood. You gave the men a quick gesture, watching as the three others started to press in. Price placed the drink he'd never been able to finish on the table, pushing off and adjusting his sleeves as he moved in on them as well. It was when the man in the back pulled out a gun that any of you moved quicker.
"Hey!" You shouted, pulling a pistol from a holster on your thigh, aiming it straight for the man.
Through the chaos, Price couldn't see exactly what had happened. People had started running and screaming, shoving him around but he could hear a gunshot, quickly followed by the sound of glass breaking and bullets whistling by. The sounds of bodies dropping weren't slow to follow them, and Price kept pushing through the screaming crowd.
When he finally got through the crowd, he saw the three men on the ground, your pistol was lowered, staring down at the men now lying motionless with red staining their suits. You looked behind you and found Price, two of your men on your squad had come around to check the guys.
The guy you were protecting was shaken, and you turned your attention to him. You leaned in to him, arm on his shoulder and guiding him to a seat, getting him to sit down. Price looked back around, the area mostly deserted by civilians.
"Keep an eye out. We don't know if they're the only ones sent," he said through the comms, eyes still moving through the area. As much as Price tried to stop it, his eyes couldn't stop finding you. You were smiling and laughing with the man, and he felt pangs of jealousy.
Why? You were a colleague at this point, there was no reason to feel this way. You'd come and you'd go, just like the others he worked with. There was something different, though. You were beautiful, yes, but you had more personality than the others he'd worked with.
Especially the way you spoke with people, understanding and elegance with the way you talked. He appreciated a well-spoken person.
Price felt a touch on his arm, snapping out of his stupor and looking down at you. Your head jerked to the side, tugging him out of the room.
"He didn't even know he had a hit out on him," you started, finding a mirror hanging in the hall and looking yourself over. "Usually these kind of men believe that they're getting hunted, at all times, but he seems genuinely shaken," you looked at Price. "You think it's just a ruse?"
He had to think for a moment, eyes flittering over you. He leaned against the wall, rubbing his beard for a moment.
"I honestly think he's full of it," he gave you a smile and you huffed, rolling your eyes. Price leaned towards you, hands finding your hips. "Let's be honest, he hasn't got much going for him. I've seen his press, and it isn't pretty," you smiled, leaning towards him, arms sneaking up his chest.
"I'm sure he won't be the only one full of something this evening, like you said, we should take our chances when we can," you slid backwards, tugging him alongside with you, hands sliding into his and turning to find where you were intending to go.
Turning the corner, you opened the bathroom door and dragging him inside. Price locked it behind the two of you, watching as you continued walking, stopping in front of the sinks and mirrors. He stalked up to you, hands sliding along your hips and grabbing at your waist, pressing you into the sink.
He could feel you pressing back against him, sliding his arms up to unzip your dress. You slid the straps off of your arms and let the dress fall, unveiling your braless chest and simple panties, his eyes grazing across you through the mirror.
Spinning around, you dropped to your knees in front of him and palming him through his pants. He watched as you undid his belt, undoing his button and unzipping his pants. You gave a little smile, tugging his pants and briefs off of him.
John groaned, letting his head fall back as his hand found your head. He could feel your hand sliding along his cock before the heat of your mouth took him. Your tongue slid along his head before moving to take him deeper.
Your hand stroked what your mouth couldn't comfortably fit and he moaned with each suck, hand helping to guide you to a steady rhythm. When he looked down, your eyes were already searching for his. He couldn't help but let his mouth drop open with his moan, hand pushing for your mouth to move faster.
A short chuckle escaped him with the gag you let out, eyes scrunching shut as he started abusing the back of your throat. He watched as a few tears escaped your eyes, rolling down your cheeks before he tugged on your hair to pull your head off of him.
Your eyes stayed shut, a thin string of spit connecting you to him and he smiled at that. Price tugged you up, sitting you back on the sink and leaning in to suck and nip at your neck.
"You'll be a good girl for me, won't you?" He smiled into your neck, hand sliding down to push your panties to the side. He could feel how wet you were even through the cloth, and stroked from your clit to your opening, sliding a finger in.
Your head dropped back as you moaned, leaving your neck open to more attacks from his mouth. He sucked bruises into it, curling his finger into your g-spot and feeling your hand find his wrist, grasping it tightly.
Price chuckled, sliding another finger in, trying to stretch you out. He could feel you pulsing against his fingers, hand tugging at his wrist with each movement he made.
He nipped your neck. "Come on, sweet girl, beg for me," he whispered into your ear, watching as your eyes just barely opened and mouth closing before trying to talk. When you did, he added one more finger, watching your eyes roll back when he kept pumping against your g-spot, thumb sliding against your clit.
God, he could listen to your moans for hours, little whines close to his ear when he moved to continue nipping at your neck. He pulled his fingers out, tugging you off of the sink and bending you over it instead.
He stroked his cock along your folds, watching your head drop between your arms.
"Please," it was a whisper, slightly crackly from the moans you'd been giving him.
"Please, what?" He urged you on, feeling your hips grind back on him, trying to get him to slide in. John tugged your head back by your hair, making you look at him through the mirror. "I'm not doing anything until you ask me to, sweet girl," he leaned back up, holding your hips still.
You blinked at him, slow and thoughtless. "Please, Captain, fuck me. Need your cock in me, sir, please," and he pressed in, sliding slowly into you. He watched your mouth drop open and brows furrow, eyes struggling to remain open.
Bottoming out, John let his head fall back, moaning low in pleasure. Your cunt was spasming around his cock, pleasure pooling from where you could feel him pressed so deeply in you. Gasping moans fell from your mouth when he pulled back out, fingers finding your clit and stroking slow.
Not waiting too much longer, he started to quicken his pace, dropping your hair to pull your hips back to meet each of his thrusts. Your arms shook from holding yourself up and stopping yourself from moving too much with each thrust, head falling back between them. You finally shut your mouth, swallowing thickly around a moan.
You could feel your cunt begin to spasm, pleasure spreading through your gut and causing a few tears to fall. Each thrust stuttered your moans, your hands grasping the sink under you harder as you came, the pleasure making your legs buckle, leaving John as the only source holding you up.
He didn't stop his rampage on your clit, one of your hands finding his and trying to pull it back.
"No, you don't get to pull me away from your pretty little clit," he shoved you back over the sink, hand getting caught under your body and stopping you from moving it anymore. "I'll keep you cumming around me, sweetheart, and you'll take it," he whispered and flicked his fingers around you clit faster.
You could feel the tears pouring down your cheeks as your body jerked with each press of his cock on your g-spot, each time his fingers stroked on your clit.
Head dropping, John looked down at where he could feel you sucking him in, watching your cunt drag him back in each time he pulled out. Your little gaspy whines echoed in the bathroom, and he slid his hand along your back to grab at your ass.
"Such a good little thing for me, hmm?" He glanced at the mirror, seeing your eyes scrunched shut and feeling your hips begin to twitch with another orgasm. "Cumming again so soon?" John couldn't help but smile at that, giving your ass a smack and feeling your cunt spasm. With a chuckle, he regained his torture against your clit and picked the speed back up.
He leaned over you, biting at your neck and sucking another hickey into it, hearing you gasp into your orgasm and grow silent, your cunt spasming around his cock with each flick over your clit. You could feel the searing pleasure flow through you, sliding against the sink with each thrust.
Seemingly regaining your voice, you let out a high pitched moan and writhed against him. John could feel his own orgasm building up on him and he relented on your clit, grabbing your hips tightly with his hands, tugging your hips back into his thrusts before pulling out, stroking his cock until he came along your ass.
John took a moment to admire you, his cum coating your ass and your slick dripping down your thighs. He tucked himself back into his pants, grabbing a paper towel to clean you up and grabbing your dress, sliding it over you, helping you zip it up.
Wiping the mascara that dripped down your face, he gave you a small smile. "You doing okay?" And all you could do was nod, letting your head fall onto his chest. He stood there, arms wrapping around you and slowly rocking you.
"'m okay," you whispered, wrapping your own arms around him. His head dropped onto yours, letting his smile grow.
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takonxmz · 29 days
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“In another life, I would've really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.”
@heyholmesletsgo 's XiYao prompt for MDZS Gotcha for Gaza -- Thank you for donating!
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Here is a less ~oohhh angLeS~~ version
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kaldurcalm · 8 months
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Hey does anyone have tips for keeping fleas off the damn dog while depressed and not earning your own money?
They're taking up residence on her tail.
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scificrows · 8 months
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i like to make fun of murderbot for being all "i hate everyone, i don't care about anything or anyone, fuck off" while simultaneously caring very much about the people around it and the situations it finds itself in. i love how it "accidentally" ends up caring quite a lot about the friends it makes along the way. but i think something that i tend to forget is that murderbot actively decides to care - at least at some point in its story.
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idk, as a person that struggles with depression, this paragraph from artificial condition really resonates with me. prior to all systems red, murderbot had contracts. it had routine and it had protocols. it knew what it had to do to just get by, how to perform so no one would notice it had disabled its governor module. it was deeply depressed, yes, but it was functioning (for lack of a better word). in artificial condition, murderbot's routine is gone. it cannot go on in that state of numbly going-from-contract-to-contract, putting in as little effort as possible, consuming media to cope. that option is gone because it escaped (and note that escaping the company was not an active choice, it kinda happened to it). murderbot has two options now: it can either gather all its energy; actively do something new and difficult and distressing; change something in its life and try. or it can let the numbness and the emptiness take over and stop trying. if murderbot wants to survive as a rogue secunit, it has to try. no matter how difficult that is. the wording in that paragraph really hits home for me. the way the non-caring sees an opportunity to slip in and to take over. does murderbot even care? does anything really matter? is anything really worth the hassle? wouldn't it be so much easier to just let your mind slip away a little, to go numb, to be passive, to watch media and wait for things to happen to you? wouldn't it be nice to stop thinking and struggling and feeling complicated things? to stop making an effort? you've been dealing with a lot lately and maybe it's time to just shut down. maybe you'll just take a little break. just slip deeper into this chair and start the show. time flies when you're not paying attention. trying is exhausting. who cares if you don't do the things you wanted to do, you were supposed to do. it'll be fine. let's just ignore those things for now. just let the non-caring take over. just stop thinking. you can deal with the aftermath later. just watch your shows. who cares. but murderbot cares. it decides to care. it decides to fight with all it has and i think that is so brave. and i think in the later books caring is less of an active decision for murderbot. once you start caring, it's easier to keep going than to stop; and murderbot, for all its "i'm a grumpy rogue secunit, leave me alone" behavior, knows just how important caring is. so it's not that it doesn't know what's happening; rather, it lets itself care. tl;dr: caring is not the default for murderbot, it's just the more difficult of two options. and it decides not to take the soft option. it decides to struggle. it decides to care. and so it does.
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thatcoyperson · 4 months
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Love the idea that Grian'll just use his watcher abilities for really mundane tasks
Like sure he uses them to open rifts and keep the life series servers open, but he also uses them to check how much time is left on the microwave or something, or to make sure that the door is locked n shit. Like just the most mundane every day tasks ever
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kibbits · 21 days
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Last Line Challenge
Rules:
In a new post, if you want to, show the last line you wrote (or drew) and tag as many or as few people as you want.
Tagged by @chaotikanvas , @robinette-green , @pointyfruit and @agent-darkfest !
Oh boy I have like 5 WIP and a commission but have the latest non-commission one I've worked on!
Smug Villain Moon in Rococo (Yes I drew the whole ball-jointed doll look underneath for fun djdhdbd)
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Uuuh if you're up for it, I tag @eyndr-stories @victarin @muzzlemouths @sillywabbits @inkydoughnut @zus-a-fungi @maudiemoods @greaserink and whoever wants to do it!
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herbgerblin · 10 months
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ipre theater thots
loosely based off of this poll. sorry, this got away from me. i was a theater kid for years (i still am, i literally made a bunch of friends larp as wizards two weeks ago)
Davenport: Producer and Stage Manager. Personally more experienced in opera than musicals, but answers the call when the need for a manager arises. Keeps everyone focused and on schedule. Has final word on what choices the art department gets to make. Sometimes does solo performances on his own time.
Merle: Choreographer and Director. Leads the ensemble into meditation every rehearsal before warming up. Talks with each member of the cast one-on-one. Sometimes leaves the script open to interpretation. His artistic vision sounds bonkers in concept, but illuminating in execution. Why are there so many plants? Don't worry about it.
Magnus: Lead Actor and Set Builder. He brings the energy every single night. He doesn't need to be micc'ed up because his natural voice projects well enough. It takes a bit of time for him to memorize the script, but he devotes his heart and soul to it. He claps loudly for the ensemble when he's in the wings. He cries at the emotional numbers. Built all the sets by hand.
Lucretia: Co-stage Manager and Supporting Actor (not for lack of chops, only because she spreads herself very thin.) Knows the script like a second language. Mainly reserves her Director Voice for backstage when things get chaotic. Enjoys performing the musical numbers because no one knows she can belt, until she does. Standing ovation girlie, but bashful about it.
Lup: Co-lead Lead Actor and Costumer. Only willing to do the role if Davenport lets her include cold sparks and fog machines in the set budget (he finds a way.) No one knows when she took measurements for the costumes, but they're ready by dress rehearsal and they fit perfectly. Helps the other actors figure out their groove. Great at engaging the audience.
Angus (special edition): Child lead and stagehand. The sweetest little singing voice you ever did hear. Everyone is going to rue the day his voice starts cracking. A heartbreaker of a performer and a speedy backstage assistant.
Taako: A MYSTERY. He's wearing a fancy scarf and roaming all over the place. He's talking about the Art of the Theatre. He's listed on the billing of lead actors and NO ONE knows what his role is. He remembers all the little things that everyone forgets: clothes pins, a hot glue gun, and electrolytes. He's got a walkie-talkie. Only the managers and tech are supposed to have walkie-talkies. Hello, this is Taako speaking, over.
Barry: Usually Tech. He's got a beautifully choreographed queue of lighting designs and stage effects. He's got an immaculately labeled pad controller and a ready-to-go Excel spreadsheet. But on opening night, Lucretia informs him he's in the orchestra pit.
Barry: ...But I'm lighting tonight.
Lucretia (via walkie-talkie): And our percussionist twisted his ankle tripping over a stage light. You're in the orchestra now, compadre.
Barry: (with increasing emphasis, decreasing conviction) But. I'm. Light. Tech.
Taako: E N T E R T H E P I T B A R O L D
Davenport: Taako, get off this line.
During intermission, Magnus asks him to help lift the ensemble dancers onto the set scaffolding, and hold it steady. Barry agrees, thinking he's in the clear after that. But the second the music number ends, Merle tells him that one of the support roles had to leave, so now he's the understudy.
Barry (longsuffering): I am just. the light guy.
Merle (gesturing to Taako in the balcony, having a ballgame playing with the lightboard): well, in two minutes you're the showstopper guy, so you need to go out there and stop the show
Lup (emerging from nowhere, slapping a red, hooded robe on Barold's shoulders): Knock 'em dead!
Barry: D:
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theflyindutchwoman · 8 months
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| 10 steps to make him fall in love with undercover work - Chenford Edition (insp.)
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voxphantasma · 2 months
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oh my god sam told us!! he told us !!!!!
[IMAGE ID’S: four images. the first: screenshot from game changer season 6 episode 1. oscar montoya is walking out on stage to sam reich saying “no assassin but killer fashion, it’s oscar montoya!”. the second: directly following the last one. oscar is waving and saying “hello! hi!”. the third: screenshot from dirty laundry season 2 episode 12. lily du is reading out the secret “who tried to become an assassin?”. fourth one: following the last one. oscar is saying “it’s me. i tried to become an assassin” / END ID]
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decarbry · 10 months
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Yabureme helping Kurogiri with base chores
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peeking through the cracks
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mag200 · 9 months
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protip: you can do less immediately necessary tasks to procrastinate doing the much more imminently necessary task that you dont want to do. (but watch out!)
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todayisafridaynight · 7 months
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laundry takes nine years to do
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bookrat · 4 months
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Pretty sure my little man has a case of abundism affecting the marble tabby coat under all those white splotches
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