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twistcmyk · 1 year
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in 2014 my friends and i went on omegle with the search term "furry" and people would ask "a/s/f/o" which is Age, Sex, Fursona (Species), Orientation and every single time we would respond with "I am Job the turtle. I am slow but I will rock you" and every single time they would immediately disconnect
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rainystressed247 · 3 months
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Surprise that there is a continuation? Me too.
P.S. I am weak to Sam dressing him gently, leave me alone in my delulu T^T
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temere-canis · 4 months
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sketch i did last night (NOT including the text i put because. i would be embarrassed 😭)
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pralinesims · 1 year
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PALE SECRET ULTIMATE MASTER COLLECTION
Included are over 140 pieces from several categories like makeup, clothing and accessory recolors, which all contain a ton of different variations inside each item. All 11 sets are categorized neatly in folders, and have an item overview included within the download.
The Tumblr exclusive SFS link includes a few additional risqué things: 2 tempting community lots made by my beloved sister @cross-design, and some interesting party makeup. The Patreon bundle only includes the bloody CC pieces, not the fun ones I’ve mentioned now.
WARNING if the pics weren’t enough: most of the here included items are very explicitly picturing blood, gore, horror, some NSFW leaning, so please only download at your own risk & if you are comfortable with such content.
Enjoy 🔪
➔ DOWNLOAD (FREE) Patreon | Simfileshare
If you like, please consider to support my work 🖤 ● OTHER SIMBLREEN CC | ALL MY CC DOWNLOADS
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sheepish-cyan · 1 year
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spotted 💕
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crabjest · 3 months
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Warm on top breezy underneath <3
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Image from Peter Blomquist's instagram 🫶🫶🫶
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flanaganfilm · 1 year
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Hi Mike! Any news about a renewal of the midnight club?
No news yet... hoping to know something very soon. BUT, I'll tell you what... if for some reason Netflix does NOT elect to renew the show, I'll post a long blog that details all of the stuff we were going to do in season 2, and answers the outstanding mysteries of season 1. I'll put it up exclusively on Tumblr.
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chickenkupo · 1 month
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Treasure Hoard
Summary: As Neuvillette returns from his spontaneous trip from Liyue and delivers some gifts to Wriothesley, the duke starts to notice odd things happening around their shared living space. More objects keep appearing in their bedroom, treasures that don't make sense to Wriothesley such as shells, trinkets, gemstones and even various different type of tea cups. He swears up and down he hasn't been the one to purchase any of these goods, and when questioning Sigewinne about it, she's just as lost as he is.
What exactly is going on, and why does Neuvillette seem so pleased with himself?
Recommendations before reading: This little short story is a continuation of I Promise and Now For the Next Act. But, if you don't feel like really reading those, just know that Wriothesley and Neuvillette are mates, and they live together in a little sanctuary in Fontaine that was created for Neuvillette specifically by the Focalors.
Also, I'd highly suggest playing through the Lantern Rite event. I did most of it tonight and it was amazing and the adorableness of Neuv and Wrio was just MMMMM.
Warnings: This is a tame work, a little cute fluff treat. I told ya'll I'd be keeping you fed the week of Valentine's, and I meant it, so take this as a little sweet treat for you all. A Tumblr exclusive, if you will. You all have been wonderful to me here, and I'm glad to bring some entertainment to your days.
NOTE: This has not been beta-read, and I'm literally just typing this up on the Tumblr page thingie so it's gonna be a mess, but we are going to have some fun.
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Wriothesley scratched his head as he took in the sight before him. In their shared bed lied a copious amount of seashells, scattered in every direction. Some were small, others almost comically large, but all of them unique in their vast differences in coloration and patterns. In fact, a lot of these shells were ones that he had never seen along the shores of Fontaine before, so he began to wonder just where exactly did this come from, and who would have done this.
Okay, let's be real. Neuvillette would have torn up anyone that had dared crossed into their chambers that wasn't himself or Sigewinne. Wriothesley had already confronted the Melusine about this, thinking that this must have been some sort of prank against him after he told her about how much tea Neuvillette had brought back, as well as the stone slate that contained a legal codex. It confused the man at first, but taking into account how loyal Neuvillette was to his position and status, it took a moment or two for him to realize that such a gift from Neuvillette was a great thing. Hence, why he did make a little section of his office in the Fortress of Meropide to house it, something that he could stare at everyday to remind himself that he was always on Neuvillette's mind.
So, Wriothesley concluded the only logical answer was that for some reason, Neuvillette had began to hoard all sorts of trinkets he must have found on his now random outings. The duke and the traveler made sure to convince him to take more breaks and to go out and see the world as much as he can, and it looks like the mighty dragon took their words to heart and had started doing just that. Only, it seems that for some reason, Neuvillette had begun to bring back all sorts of things he found during his outings. The young man only prayed that Neuvillette would break out of this mood soon, but didn't mind allowing it for now, just as long as the dragon was happy on his adventures and seeing Teyvat for what it really was, in all of it's mysteries and splendors.
As much as he wanted to daydream about how his man would look during different locations, such as the grassy hills of Mondstadt, the electrifying peaks of Inazuma, or even how the Sumeru sun would reflect beautifully off of the elegance that was entirely Neuvillette, he had to bring himself back to reality.
This was all getting ridiculous. The shells on the bed covered it almost completely, and he had no real room to put them in, maybe some storage containers they had from where Wriothesley's belongings had to be moved once he began residing there. The duke sighed as he grabbed an empty container, getting to work and putting the myriad of shells into it, tired from the work of the day and just wanting to relax in bed for a bit for a quick nap. He made sure to keep the box of shells close by, knowing that it would crush the dragon if he had tossed whatever he had decided to collect.
Yawning, Wriothesley removed his coat and clothing, stripping down and getting dressed in a pair of simple black boxers, before he snuggled underneath the soft sheets of their bed. He had been craving a nap all day, no amount of tea drinking seemed to deliver enough caffeine into his body to keep him awake. Surely a small nap wouldn't harm anyone, right? Besides, if he slept in too late, he knew that Neuvillette would wake him up and demand attention from him in one form or another.
Yeah, a nap sounded pretty good right now.
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As the young man started to awaken from his slumber, he began to stretch out his limbs with a loud yawn as he normally did, until both hands and legs seemed to crash into something, the sounds of various things falling off the bed as he continued to stretch out his limbs. This startled the duke who immediately woke up in a state of confusion, causing his limbs to turn and twist more, causing even more items to fall, crashing into the floor.
What the hell was going on?!
The man arose, being careful not to make anymore sudden movements until he could gather exactly what was happening. His eyes widened in further confusion and panic as he saw just how stuffed the room was now. Sure, the area where the water surrounded the bed was clear, but the pathway out of the bedroom and around the bed itself felt like some sort of ancient loot hall from a temple of old. Dozens of gold and silver trinkets littered the floor, statues and plates, necklaces and gemstones of various colors and details. There seemed to also be random boxes of tea scattered around, as well. Some were new boxes that Wriothesley had become recently familiar of since the Steambird's articles began releasing after the Lantern Rite event. Others seemed like old brews that were, at this point, probably more for show than for actual consumption.
There were other goodies laying about as well. Books that dealt with true crime or laws of old, scrolls that were in languages that Wriothesley was very unfamiliar with, but there was one thing that seemed to stand out to the duke. It appeared that the bigger gold and silver pieces were placed near or on the bed, as if he were the one that was sleeping in a treasure vault and taking joy in all of the splendors, the further away the goods were from Wriothesley, the less vividness and preciousness the items seemed to hold. It was as if Neuvillette kept his closest valuables towards Wriothesley, with the duke himself seemingly being the most valuable one.
As Wriothesley was about to get up and try to figure out what to do with all of this, he heard the door connecting the bedroom to the living room open, Neuvillette walking through with even more goods in his arms. This time, it appeared to be various fruits and wrapped baked goods, a large smile appearing on his face as Wriothesley took in the scene, a slight glare in his eyes.
"Neuvillette, what the hell are you doing?!" the young man growled out, still stuck in place as he was afraid to move and make anymore of a mess.
The dragon put the items down in one of the few free spaces still left, his eyes never leaving his mate, as he tilted his head in confusion.
"Oh? What do you mean? I saw how happy you were when you received those gifts from Clorinde and I, and I couldn't resist. I was awful before, never thinking to shower you in actual physical possessions, because of my ignorance and fear of leaving my position for any sort of leave. Now, however, I have all of the time in the world to make up for it. See, here even, I ventured out all the way to this bakery on the outskirts of Fontaine, the breads appear to be truly delectable, at least that is what Furina told me. Here, you can see-"
"Neuv! Honey, you don't need to do this you know!" Wriothesley uttered out as he shoved away the trinkets and treasures near him, so that he could create a path for himself to reach his ridiculous lover. Neuvillette merely paused, blinking in confusion as the duke wrapped his muscular arms around his dragon, hugging him tightly and sighing.
"W-Wriothesley?" the dragon questioned, obviously welcoming the hug as he began to return the favor, wrapping his own arms around the broad chest of the man, as best as he could.
"You can be such a big idiot sometimes, you know that? You know every law of the land, every crime with every punishment to match it, laws old and new never forgotten by you. But you just don't get the simple stuff sometimes, do you?" the young man asked, kissing Neuvillette on the cheek, which made the dragon blush, still blinking with questioning eyes.
"Listen, Neuv, love, I don't need all of these things. Sure a gift here or there is nice for anyone, but I never held it against you that you didn't really do that before. We're both busy men with schedules that drive us insane sometimes. Look, just being able to come home to you and spend time with you and being able to look into those eyes of yours every night before I drift off to sleep, and waking up to look into them too, that's the best gift I could ask for, okay?" Wriothesley relayed to his mate, in such a calm manner that it almost seemed like a whisper.
The dragon's eyes widened as he listened to his lover, holding him tightly as his mate continued explaining. In a shocking show, small droplets of tears started to form at the edges of his eyes, before a few started to roll down his cheek, which Wriothesley wiped away, smiling softly and understandably at his mate. As much as Neuvillette was such a stoic and strict man, Wriothesley knew that he was starved for genuine love and appreciation, and even though his life was forever changed by this man and his want to keep him at his side forever, it was now more of a blessing to him than a curse would ever be. If he now had an eternity to live, then he would spend every waking moment of it showing that Neuvillette is appreciated and loved dearly, in return.
"Now, let's try to clean up this mess so one of us doesn't trip and break our necks just trying to get out the door, okay?" Wriothesley chuckled, planting a few more kisses on Neuvillette's cheeks, loving the way that his man's blush would deepen with every kiss received.
Neuvillette merely chuckled as he smiled a most gorgeous, heartfelt smile that he had ever mustered, in all of his centuries of existence.
"Of course, my most precious treasure."
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atherix · 9 days
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Midnight Tumblr Exclusive
Hi have a blurb <3 It takes place during Midnight Breaks
Midnight Observer
Jellie watches.
No one pays her much mind, but that’s alright. She doesn’t need their attention right now; her bowls are filled on time and Scar’s partners always greet her when they see her, but Scar hasn’t left his room since the other humans brought him home a few days before.
This, unlike with the other two, simply won’t do. She mewls at the door every morning after breakfast, demanding that not-her-people let her in so she can be by his side.
Jellie watches them from where she’s curled up at Scar’s side. She watches as the taller man flits about, never in the same place for long, and the shorter man lingers and talks.
Jellie doesn’t listen to his words. She doesn’t really care. All she cares about is her person, Scar. He lies in bed, his hair still wet from the bath the winged man had coaxed him into an hour earlier, but he doesn’t sleep. Instead his hand rests on Jellie’s side and Jellie purrs for him.
He doesn’t smile, just gazing sadly at her.
Everyone’s sad. Jellie doesn’t know why. The shorter man skirts the subject and the taller one never stays long enough for anyone to engage him, but she knows they’re sad.
She can see it in the gleam of their eyes, smell it in the tears that cling to their lashes, hear it in the stuttering breaths and fluttering beats of their hearts.
She watches the winged man kiss Scar’s cheek before he turns to leave.
Jellie doesn’t follow, faithfully pressing herself closer to Scar and purring louder.
Her purrs always made him smile before. He used to tell her that she could heal his wounds with those purrs alone. Whatever has broken her person’s heart, she’s determined to heal it.
Scar chokes on a breath and settles his arm around Jellie, carefully curling himself around her. He trembles and his breaths are wet, and she mewls at him.
(Normally, she would never simply sit there and allow herself to be hugged. In that moment, she makes an exception.)
“I’m sorry, Jellie,” Scar breathes, and she peers up at him questioningly. “I’m sorry.”
She doesn’t know why he’s apologizing. It’s okay, though. She presses her head to his chin and rubs against him before resting her head on his arm.
He doesn’t laugh like he usually does, but that’s okay.
She’s here now. She’s here, and he won’t be alone.
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solmeister13 · 2 years
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Για να ζαχαρώσω το χάπι των κλειστών asks είπα να δώσω αυτό για τα νυχτοπούλια μου. Tumblr Exclusive μετά από καιρό. Το έγραψα ένα βράδυ γυρνώντας από μεγάλο περπάτημα στο Γέρακα.
Κουβαλάει λίγο απ' το πνεύμα όσων έρχονται στο νέο δίσκο σε θέμα αισθητικής, αν και ήταν ακόμα πολύ πρώιμο σα σκέψη όταν το ηχογραφούσα.
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mothman-can-write · 2 months
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hi !!! i saw u said you were open for prompts, i mean this is kinda less of a prompt really, but like i loved that blackhill mission transcript thing you did a while ago and would be really cool to see some more stuff in the same vein ig ! but also maybe something like a kinda blackhill first meeting kinda thing idk !! i just love your work tho ! you really have the ability to make me feel all the emotions
OOOOO i just thought of this whilst writing this but maybe something like with clint teasing nat ab having like feelings for maria or something ?? idk i just love ur writing ! sorry these are kinda shitty hahah
NGL I took this prompt and mangled it in my hands. I heard first meeting and my brain was immediately like well that could go seventeen thousand different ways, so I sorta mashed in Clint's teasing to go along with it and made it a little more suggestive than outright shippy. Realistically, I think if Natasha is only meeting Maria for the first time, she's probably still in a place where she's not totally open to such self indulgent things as having a crush
Also, this isn't a mission transcript but I'd love to do more of them that one was really fun! I just don't really have any good ideas for the sort of things they'd have to talk about in the field besides dying haha
ANYWAY enough rambling, though you're all familiar with my inability to shut up these days. ~3k under the cut of Clint being a ballache and nat being sceptical but gay
The only person that doesn’t treat Natasha like she’s a project – or a live wire –  is Clint. He’d had his fair share of looking at her with those careful eyes, something behind them that made her teeth itch in her gums like some trained dog. He doesn’t do that so much anymore, not unless she’s in a particular state and doing a very bad job at hiding it. She likes him, she thinks. He might be one of the first people in her entire life that she can truly say she likes. 
Naturally, she finds herself in his quarters more often than her own. She lays on his bed as he works on something probably explosive enough to kill them both if he sneezes, and she ignores the pip of her emails as she braids a small strip of hair under her ear. She’s bored, if she’s honest, but she doesn’t want to waste her first free morning of the past fortnight on something so trivial as emails. Or helping Clint. 
“You not gonna answer her?” he says without looking up from his work. He holds it close to his face, something far too small in his tweezers. 
Natasha’s fingers pause in untangling her braid. “How do you know who it is?” 
He still doesn’t turn in his seat, matter of fact when he speaks. “You have a different tone for Hill.” 
“How did you figure that out?” She tries not to scowl at him, but she still isn’t used to feeling so see-through. Quite frankly, she’d like to be as opaque as possible, but she seems to have grown rather attached to someone with x-ray vision. 
Clint puts his miniature contraption down and turns to her at last. She’s not fond of the smile on his face as he leans over the back of his chair. “You’re not the only spy on the ship. Also, you weren’t trying very hard to hide it.” 
“Her emails are usually more important,” Natasha argues, not quite sure why she feels the need to defend herself on it. 
Clint grins ever wider. “I never asked why. I just thought you had a massive crush on her.” 
Natasha scowls fully this time. “I’ve never met her.” 
He shrugs. “I don’t know what’s in those emails.” 
“Shut up.” 
She reaches for her phone anyway and pointedly ignores the way Clint watches her. The email is much the same as they always are, telling her about meetings and progress and such. She’s overtly professional in every one, but now that she’s thinking about it, Natasha likes the words she uses – just slightly like she enjoyed reading dictionaries as a child. Very, very rarely, Maria will let something slip in her emails that is almost like humour, and Natasha doesn’t tell Clint that she actually does enjoy receiving emails from her just for the fact that she feels a little special when that happens. She’s heard the rumours; she knows not to expect giggles and grins when it comes to the Assistant Director. 
In the end, she doesn’t bother to respond to the email anyway and Clint has already turned back to his work. “Not in the mood to sext her back?” 
She scowls at the back of his head. “It sounds like Laura needs to watch her back.” 
“Oh, god,” he laughs. “Gross. Absolutely not. Not my type.” 
“What makes you think she’s mine?” 
“You need someone to match your weirdness.” 
Natasha wishes she had something to throw at him. She won’t admit that she intrigues her in small ways. She doubts she’s any different from every other CEO and government lead in the world, but some small part of her feels thankful to her faceless emails. She could’ve easily overridden Clint’s choice, could’ve had her put down before she could even think to beg for forgiveness. But she’d given her a chance, and she’d kept in contact despite her supposed overbooked schedule every day since. Maria held her life in her hands at one point, and she’d given her another shot at it. 
Despite everything, Natasha still doesn’t sleep well. Or, rather, because of everything, she supposes. One good month doesn’t erase a lifetime of bad – and she’s really a little hesitant to say that this month has even been good in many senses of the word. She wonders if the nights will ever get easier on her with time, or if she’s stuck with these hours of restlessness and sweat for the rest of her life. It’s not a nice thing to think about, and it doesn’t really do all that much to distract her from the shadows that still play behind her eyelids or the way the shapes of the room still seem to swim around the edges. So, she swings her legs over the side of her bed and scrubs at her face with her hands. She can appreciate, at the very least, that she isn’t handcuffed to her bed here. Somehow, that had been a hard thing to get used to. She still sleeps with one arm by the headboard. 
There aren't many things to do at this hour. Clint has told her countless times that she’s perfectly welcome to pester him at any time of the night if it would make her feel even minutely better. He says he understands, and she believes him enough from the way his past lines his own face, but it doesn’t make it any easier to put into practice. 
She doesn’t have a plan as she steps out into the corridors. She dresses like she’s going to the gym on the off chance that she might be able to sneak into it and punch something until she’s sweaty for reasons more tangible. She wishes the firing range was usable at this hour, but she’s sure that’s much less subtle. Still, there are some nightmares you can only really feel better by shooting at. Maybe she’ll bat her eyelashes into an hour or so at the targets tomorrow. 
She passes the odd agent as she trails around the corridors and considers that the ship never really sleeps entirely. There’s always someone on the night shift, always someone pottering around with something. She thinks it would be nice to work when it’s so quiet. Maybe she should ask about changing her hours. It might be a little soon. 
The gym isn’t so far from her quarters, and by the time she reaches it her shirt still feels sticky at her back and her stomach still feels like it’s alive in her ribcage. Her hopes are low enough to limbo as she presses her hand to the door, and she could almost sigh with relief when the door opens easily. She’s not against breaking in, but she likes to think she’s been doing a pretty good job of building a better reputation lately. Maybe not socially, but Maria’s emails haven’t managed to sound short lately – not since the last time she’d bypassed what she maintains was a criminally simple encryption on one of Clint’s jobs. 
The gym is utterly silent at this time of the morning, which is entirely unsurprising. She doubts anyone else sensible gets out of bed for another hour or two, let alone starts their training regime. Generally, agents are allowed the privilege of breakfast before they’re worked to the bone. Natasha’s never been a fan of food so early in the morning. 
She doesn’t really know when she fell out of the habit of scanning each room on this ship like someone will be waiting to haul her out of it, and she blames it firmly on her lack of sleep and nightmare slurred thoughts when she doesn’t notice the other body in the gym until it’s too late. 
“I did wonder,” someone says, and Natasha’s attention snaps to one of the benches on the far side, half covered from the entrance. 
It takes Natasha an almost embarrassingly drawn out moment to place her features, and she’s sure she only half succeeds in hiding her surprise into an intrigued eyebrow. The Assistant Director didn’t really strike her as the type to be in the gym when everyone is supposed to be sleeping. 
“Wonder what?” she asks instead of every other question that gnaws at her head. She stays firmly planted in the middle of the room. 
“Who would come in at this time.” 
Oh. She’s not wondering about Natasha. She doesn’t really know what that feels a mote disappointing. She hates it when Clint asks how she’s sleeping. Maybe she just doesn’t like lying to him. 
“I thought it would be empty.” 
Maria places her water bottle beside her on the bench and makes absolutely no move to stand up yet. Somehow, Natasha finds it unnerving, even if she’s taller here. “It usually is,” she says simply. 
Her eyes bore into her in a way that makes the back of her neck crawl. Something about her says that she’s calculating, that she’s looking at Natasha and breaking her down into little bite sized pieces. Natasha has never liked being dissected. Maria’s eyes are very blue. 
“Do you usually spend your mornings here?” she asks, if only to stop Maria from burning holes into her skull and reading her thoughts directly. 
It works, in the way that her gaze flicks away for the briefest moment before pinning her again in that same cool tone. “I guess you could call this morning.” 
“That doesn’t answer my question.” 
Maria’s eyes soften ever so slightly around the corners, and Natasha would almost call it a squint. “I’ve made a bit of a habit at this point, yes.”
She almost seems reluctant to admit it, and Natasha can’t help the way she wants to pick this woman apart. She has always liked puzzles, and people are just some of the more complex the world has to offer. She thinks she understands the rumours a little more now, even through this uncanny meeting. She wonders if Maria feels her own searching gaze as intently. 
Maria stands at last, and Natasha had almost forgotten how tall she is. She thinks she preferred it when she was sitting. “Don’t let me stop you,” she says, and Natasha is silently thankful for the way that answers her question. Again, not that she wouldn’t break the rules. It’s just much harder to make an excuse when the Assistant Director is the one who catches you. 
“I would’ve expected the AD to send me back to my quarters,” she notes, as forward as ever when it gets her information. She’ll admit this woman seems to be intriguing. She’s curious as to just why she’s indulging her so far. 
Maria’s expressions are all very small, mere suggestions of emotions that only make Natasha want to pick her apart. “That would make me more of a hypocrite than I already am,” she says simply, almost smiling. “Are you getting on okay?” she asks instead , and her eyes are on her like she’s deciphering her again. She’s closer now, making direct eye contact, and Natasha holds it like a game. “Besides the obvious, of course.” 
Natasha tries not to scowl. God, does she hate when people pretend like they know her. “What’s the obvious?” 
Maria raises one eyebrow ever so slightly, her expression caught somewhere to amusement. “Did the Red Room have you in the routine of training at four in the morning?” 
“Sometimes.” They both know that’s not the reason that she’s here, as much as Natasha wishes Maria didn’t. 
Her eyes are almost soft. Almost like she truly cares about her. Natasha doesn’t like to let herself believe the sort of things that might cost her later. “Half of the people on this ship struggle with it, Romanoff,” she says, nearly gentle in the silence around them. “You don’t have to be ashamed of it.” 
She can almost imagine her setting a heavy hand on her shoulder as she says it, though Maria remains in her own space. She’s still slightly too close for what Natasha is used to however, and it’s the first time she realises the darkness under her eyes. Her face is lined, something bone deep that she doubts ever goes away. It lends her a certain sort of…imperfection that makes her seem a whole lot more human. For everything she’s heard, though she knows to take gossip with a healthy grain of salt, she could almost imagine Hill to be some sort of robot, some living excel sheet. 
Standing in front of her, she sort of just looks like a woman who could do with some sleep. She looks like a woman who has spent the last who-knows-how-many hours beating out her own past the same way Natasha intends to. She won’t call it affection. It doesn’t mean Natasha likes the way she looks straight through her any more. 
“You have any tips?” she says, aiming for something playful. She really, really just wants her to stop looking at her like she can figure her out right here in the middle of the room. Maybe if she seems better than she is, she’ll leave her alone. She’d rather her conduct a genuine vivisection out on the boxing ring floor if she’s going to continue to examine her. 
She’s certain Maria almost smiles at that, a tug at the corner of her lips that is almost sad, almost conspirational. She shrugs ever so slightly. “Shooting things usually helps.” 
Natasha tries not to scowl like a child. As if she wouldn’t be there right now if she could get away with it. “I’m on supervised arms training.” 
This time, Maria does smile, though Natasha thinks she’d have missed it if she blinked. “Not from tomorrow,” she says plainly, and Natasha can only watch her walk away without another word. 
The door closes behind her, and Natasha lets herself furrow her eyebrows as deeply as she likes. She is overtly aware that she is not being let off of supervised training tomorrow. She’s aware that she has been seen as a weapon and an explosive since the moment Clint forgot that he was meant to shoot her. Somehow, she doesn’t think that Maria is one to tease. 
It makes it very hard to punch things as effectively as she’d like to when she can only think after Maria. She wonders what keeps her up at night. She wonders what else she does to get rid of the shadows. She wonders why on earth she would let her off of the hook so early. For all they know, Natasha might decide to defect back. She might’ve been biding her time until she could get a hand on one of those guns outside of the range. She’d never even dream of it, of course. She’d rather be supervised for every split second a gun is in her hands for the rest of her life than have to go back to her life before. She wonders just how deep Maria managed to dig. She wonders if she really is all that transparent after all. 
She finds herself in Clint’s quarters again as thoughtlessly as breathing. Every spare minute in her schedule that lines up with his, she’ll spend hiding from the rest of the world. This time, she’s sitting in his chair, her knees resting against the edge of his desk so that she can spin it slightly from side to side. Clint is behind her in his bunk, his arms tucked up behind his head and his eyes closed. It’s only 2pm. Natasha wishes she could have a nap too. 
“Is she always like that?” she says on a whim, her thoughts still stuck on tired eyes and snap decisions. 
“Like what?” Clint asks, completely brushing over her lack of context. 
“So…intense.” 
“Ah, we’re back on Hill. Yes.” He falls silent again, and Natasha listens to his breath. “Hold on.” His eyes open and his head turns on his pillow to face her. “Did you meet her? When?” 
“This morning.” 
“You were at the range this morning.” 
“Before that.”
“You were asleep before that.” She doesn’t answer, and that tells him everything in as little effort as possible. “Natasha.” 
She doesn’t meet his eye. “It’s better than moping.” 
“You don’t need to mope. You can come wake me up.” 
“But then you don’t sleep.” 
“Tasha, do you really think I’m sleeping well either half the time?” 
She stays silent again, staring intently at the dimples Clint’s chair has made in the carpet. 
“How did you even find her?” he asks eventually, giving up the argument for the countless time. “She’s practically booked to the minute.” 
“She was in the gym when I got there.” 
“I’m going to skip over the fact that you’d rather punch something until you bleed than come and bug me. Was it worth it? Was she all sweaty and hot? Did you two finally canoodle in person?” 
She doesn’t dignify his jokes with a response, her thoughts plain in her expression. “I don’t think she sleeps well either. She looked tired.” 
Clint grins a little. “You paying attention to her face?”
Natasha scowls at him. “It’s normal to look someone in the eye.” 
“Mhm…” He retucks his arms under his head, settling back against his pillow. “It’s for sure normal to think about them all morning.” 
“She took me off of probation,” she says, almost in a rush, like maybe this will change the subject – maybe a little bit like she’s admitting something. 
“Oh you definitely have a crush on her. It’s like she’s trying to get in your pants. Remind me never to read your emails.” 
Natasha only squints at him, wishing once again that she had something appropriate to throw. The urge distracts her enough that she never does reject the notion. And when she finds herself imagining Maria’s secret little smile in those few and far casual emails, she decides that Clint doesn’t need to know. She’s not been given many chances in her life, and she thinks she could make space in her life for two instead of one. She wonders if Maria would ever want a gym buddy on long nights and promptly decides not to think any deeper into it. 
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twistcmyk · 1 year
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I had a perverted dream about your oc, I can’t stop thinking about it
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i guess my inbox is a confessional now. unfortunately, i cannot absolve you of sin
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bwoahtastic · 9 months
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please could you write a lil drabble about sweet sub maxy? maybe the fallout of his horrible subdrop, where the grid realises that they were all so wrong about him? the thought of dan angrily hissing at them whilst holding an incoherent maxy in his arms is so delicious! maybe one of the gentler doms hands him a gag for maxy to suck on instead of his fingers (but dan doesn't want it, bc he wants maxy to have as much kind human contact as possible - poor baby has been touch starved!)
It looked all wrong, seeing Max so small and frail, so unlike the blunt, strong man Dan had gotten to know. Of course he knew Max was a sub, but he had always seemed to keep thst part of him private and Dan wasn't one to pry. This was the first time it was so clear to see, and even more so, it was clear to see Max had been treated so poorly.
Max was curled up in a little ball in the FIA meeting room, tucked away in a little corner as some drivers crowded around, unsure what to do. Sub drops weren't rare, but this seemed extreme, Max not even reacting to any of them as he rocked himself and whimpered.
"Get David, I heard he is into the rough stuff, like Max's no hard limit preferences," Dan vaguely heard someone say.
"No!" Daniel bellowed, even surprising himself. "He doesn't want any of that rough stuff." He added.
"But his list-" Charles spoke hesitantly next to him. Daniel shook his head.
"It's all wrong, he doesn't want it rough." He said decisively. It wasn't like he had been with Max, like he knew from experience, but he was just so sure about it. He stepped forward, and after no one stopped him, he knelt down at Max's side.
"Maxy? Maxy it's going to be okay." He cooed sweetly. "I'm going to hold you, okay? It's all going to be alright, my sweet boy..." He continued to ramble and praise as he sat down and pulled Max onto his neck. Max wasn't wearing a collar, and Dan could hardly expect any of the other driver subs to take theirs off now they were all stressed and on edge, so he settled for gently cupping one hand over the back of Max's neck as the sub sank into his chest.
"Dan..." Max mumbled into Daniel's shoulder, stirring slightly and letting out a shaky breath. "Please may I-" He trailed off, too tired. Even when dropping, he was so polite and sweet.
"What do you need, Maxy? You're being such a good boy, I'll give you anything you need." Daniel murmured, gently squeezing Max's neck. Max, eyes still screwed shut, let out a soft sound and parted his lips. He seemed too out of it to speak any longer, letting out a soft, wanting sound.
Daniel knew what he wanted, knew what a sweet, gently sub like Max needed to be grounded again. He brushed his fingers of his free hand over Max's plush lips, and Max eagerly parted them more, taking two digits into his mouth. He suckled on Dan's fingers a little clumsily, gasping happily as Dan continued to whisper soft praises.
"Dan, I have a gag for him, if he needs it..." Carlos spoke up. The young dom protectively stood near the door, keeping unwanted guests out.
"No, he needs direct contact. He has deprived himself of it." Daniel answered determinedly. As if to prove his point, Max managed to lift a shaky hand, curling it into the fabric of Dan's shirt and just clinging on tightly. What a beautiful sweet sub, Dan would sit there as long as it took.
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sheepish-cyan · 1 year
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sir is that throne taken? 😳👉👈
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uhyeahithinkso · 4 months
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Didn't know what to put for a first post, so here's Pilchard, Scruffty, and (very uniquely named🙃) Bird!!! 💛🩵💙
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itzlemozxd · 4 months
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HI I uhmm made a sky oc height chart
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I think it looks pretty neat :]
I wanted to start posting more of my art!! So sorry if this looks kinda wonky :/
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