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hotluncheddie · 3 months

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an addition to this au with @scoops-aboy86 <3

condensed ver: office au, steve starts baking to try and impress eddie, it doesn’t work, because steve is too distracted by eddie to mention it’s his baking. but it’s okay because eddie is already impressed, and likes watching steve eat the random deserts more than trying them himself anyway.

so i had to write what happened at the end of their first date <3

wc: 3.6k | rated: E | tags: getting together, fluff, chubby steve, sweet gooey smut

ao3

˙✧ ° 🍮 ✧ .୧ 🥄

‘gonna just hit the bathroom and we can go, yeah?’ steve asks, standing and stretching his arms over his head until his shoulder pops. he feels pleasantly full and warm, comfortable after being in eddie’s space all evening. butterfly’s fluttering at eddie’s sweet determination to make steve feel looked after, friendly arguing over how to split the bill. (eddie putting more cash down but steve ensuring their waiter gets a nice tip.)

steve freezes, forgetting that he’d popped the button on his kind of too small jeans like, an hour ago. he sucks in and forces the button back closed, pulling and smoothing his yellow sweater back down over himself. giving his little shelf of stomach a pat.

he trails his eyes over their table; a couple beers each and steve’s vanilla drink, and around eight empty plates of appetisers and sides that eddie had ordered periodically thought the night. he’d said the food here was good and he was right, steve had tried all of it, finishing almost all of it. thinking he should take robin here so she can try the cheese fries. he enjoyed every bite.

‘i feel like i should be more embarrassed, but that food was really good.’ steve says.

‘nothin’ to be embarrassed about.’ eddie says ‘i ordered the food because i wanted you to try it, just glad you enjoyed it.’ he’s resting his head in his palm, looking up at steve with a lazy sort of adoration.

‘yeah?’ steve asks.

‘yeah.’ eddie smiles and stands and doesn’t touch steve but steps close, in his space, eyes roaming steve’s features, his face and hair and neck. catching on the peak of chest hair visible at his neckline. trailing over his chest and arms and stomach. eventually making it back to his eyes and steve knows his breathing has picked up. eddie’s eyes are hooded and dark. steve feels warmth through his bones.

‘i’ll just. bathroom’ steve says, voice quiet and gravely. he clears his throat. forces himself to swallow.

eddie’s smiles wide, pointy. steve feels his own flushed face split into a grin, the butterflies doubling. he nods once and walks backwards towards the bathroom, keeping his eyes on eddie’s mouth for as long as possible.

once he’s back, having checked and double checked his outfit in the mirror, because maybe he was a little embarrassed. eddie is slouched at the empty bar waiting for him.

‘i wanna make a joke about like, the button, getting into your pants, be all smooth and suave or whatever.’ eddie says, a little bit of a whine to his voice as though he really really did want to be smooth. ‘but, i’ve got nothin.’ he sighs

fuck it. ‘do you want to? get, in them, i mean?’ steve asks, running a hand through his hair, pretending it’s not shaking.

eddie’s smiles wide, a little shocked, almost shy, and nods. steve bites his lip, the butterflies tripling.

‘i’ll uh, just call us a cap? back to mine? steve asks, and eddie pulls a piece of wavy hair in front of his mouth. looking up at steve through his lashes. steve thinks he must have a guardian angel, sending this man to his office, letting him fill his eye-line.

steve uses the bars pay phone. gripping the receiver tight and having to turn away when he catches eddie’s eye, afraid his voice will come out strange from smiling too wide. has to contain his excitement as he rattles off the bars address. he feels giddy and well fed and he’s not had a night like this in, well, ever.

they stand apart from each other on the street outside the bar. steve by the curb, hands fisted in his jacket pocket. eddie leaning up against the bars brick wall, one foot up against it and he’s smoking. baring his neck to expel white tendrils up into the night sky, taking long slow drags so steve can see the veins on his hands, long fingers and big rings. steve can’t take his eyes off him. eddie smirks, like he caught him, like he knows. steve’s blood burns.

finally through the doors of steve’s little suburban home eddie stands close while steve locks and checks the door. eddie takes off his boots and steve helps him hang his jacket on the coat hooks, followed by his own, something swirling in the back of him mind. a ‘how nice’, a ‘maybe’, a ‘please’ and a scared little question. what if this was all the time? what if you just stayed?

steve puts his hands on eddie’s hips to brushes past, asking if he’d like a drink, getting himself a glass of water. eddie’s skin was so warm.

eddie steps though the house, hands behind his back, looking delighted and mischievous, like steve’s place is something interesting, something to care about. steve hides behind his glass.

eddie looks at the photos hung up around the walls. back facing steve, eddie says ‘it’s nice in here, cozy, like you.’ and steve can’t take it any longer. can’t take being apart from eddie any longer.

‘come on.’ he pulls at eddie’s arm, gently leading him to the couch. standing in front of it steve manoeuvres eddie’s hand up so he can compare them, his are bigger, they always are. steve sees eddie’s adams apple bob, he smiles, holds eddie’s hand in both of his and kisses each of his knuckles in turn. his skin is warm, smells like salt and cigarettes.

eddie tucks some of steve’s hair behind his ear to get his attention, hand gently cupping his jaw. ‘can i?’ he whispers, eyes so big and pretty, nervous and hungry.

steve’s nods slightly, looking all over eddie’s face, trying to drink in the moment, never forget it.

eddie’s lips quirk at the corners, like he’s exited, joyous, that he gets to kiss steve.

steve’s meeting him before eddie even moves, pushing their lips together, something sweet, something honey filled and gooey.

eddie switches angle, dives in deeper, it becomes wet and molten and creamy. steve’s hand in eddie’s hair, holding the back of his head, other hand still gripping eddie’s. mouths searching and sharing, fingers locked.

eventually eddie breaks the kiss, they’re both panting, coming up for air. steve closes his eyes for a moment, leaning his forehead against eddie’s. he can’t remember the last time he kissed someone. he doesn’t think it’s ever felt this good.

eddie moves slow, stepping back, sitting in the center of the couch. he pats his lap, tugging gently at their still joined hands.

steve hesitates a moment but straddles eddie, settling down on top of him as best he can in his tight jeans. the denim pulling at his thicker thighs, biting into his stomach like it was at the bar. but eddie rests his head back agains the cushions, looks up at steve with stars in his eyes, ‘so pretty stevie.’

and steve can’t help but kiss him.

eddie free hand moves to steve’s hip. something instinctive and embarrassed makes steve grab it, pausing it before it can splay over him fully. thinks about pushing him away, to hide, but then eddie pulls back slightly and steve sees the look in his eyes. the flash of sweet concern but also the foggy want and desire. deep, dark pupils eating up chocolate brown and all steve feels is want, wanted, whole.

‘you okay?’ eddie whispers, stealing air from steve’s own mouth.

‘yeah, yeah just um, been a while.’ steve admits feeling his cheeks flush. but eddie just smiles at him, in that sweet way he does all the time at work. he squeezes what he can of steves fingers, kind, reassuring.

steve feels that want bloom and flower in his chest, warmth dripping through all of his cracks and crevices.

he pushes eddie’s hand up under his sweater and eddie can definitely feel how his jeans waistband is digging in, creating a muffin top but steve doesn’t care. he kisses eddie and it’s feels good, slips his tongue into eddie mouth and it feels perfect.

eddie opens his mouth wider, moaning, letting steve in. squeezes a handful of steve’s side and steve can’t help but grind down against him and whine.

eddie grinds up, meeting him, their denim clad cocks both hard and straining. ‘it’s been a while for me too. so, i, it’s okay, if you wanna, ah, uh, if you wanna slow down.’ eddie says, in-between kisses.

steve does, but he doesn’t. he thinks tonight so far has been perfect and he really wants to touch eddie. wants to let himself do it. ‘wanna touch you, wanna keep kissing you and i want you to stay, stay the night with me. is that, is that okay?’ steve asks, breathless and desperate, insides flayed open, honest.

‘more than okay, that’s, ugh, fuck, sounds so perfect baby.’ eddie grits out, still squeezing steve’s side, head thrown back, pretty long neck on display.

‘say that again’ steve breaths, their hips haven’t stopped moving. steve’s eyes close tight, his skin on fire.

eddie moves the hand from steve’s hip to the side of his neck, pulling him down so they’re eye to eye, almost nose to nose. eddie sweeps his thumb over steve’s bottom lip, wiping the spit across his cheek. looks right in his eyes, right into his soul. ‘baby.’ he purrs.

steve feels his pupils blow, wet tip soaking his boxers. ‘fuck’ he keens. he needs to feel him, needs to know if eddie’s wet too.

steve pushes himself up using the back of the couch, going for smooth but he fumbles his footing slightly, starts giggling, flustered. but eddie just giggles too, sitting up and using their still joined hands to help stabilise. ‘c’mon pretty boy.’ steve says, giddy, and tugs eddie up once he’s found his footing, pulling him towards the stairs. swaying his hips a little more than normal as he climbs them.

eddie sits on the edge of the bed, looking around like he did downstairs, face open and curious. steve thinks he’s beautiful.

steve hesitates a second before undoing his fly and shimmying out of his jeans, kicking them aside. eddie let’s out the faintest little ‘oh’, almost wounded, and steve realised he’s looking at the indented red lines that have been left on his soft underbelly, where it’s been pushed up against his jeans waistband all evening. steve flushes and goes to cover himself but eddie takes his hands gently, pulling him forward so he’s standing between eddie’s thighs. eddie’s big dark eyes looking up at him before he dips forward and leaves the softest kiss over the indent right in the middle, where the button dug in the most. steve can’t look away, his breathing picking up slightly as he feels his gut churn with something he thinks could traverse all the way to his heart, could expand and grow into something like love.

‘need to touch you eddie.’ steve pleads, voice higher than normal.

‘yeah, yeah, course sweetheart.’ eddie’s voice is horse, affected, he lays a few more feathery kisses on steve’s stomach and the soft skin by his hip. ‘but take this off first for me, please baby.’ eddie released his soft grip on steve’s hands and slips his fingers just under the hem of steve’s sweater, rucking it up slightly higher on his belly and squeezing steve’s hips. the contact making steve close his eyes and shiver.

‘you don’t like my sweater?’ steve jokes, hands on eddie’s shoulders to keep his knees from turning to jelly.

‘it looks perfect on you. but steve, baby, i’ve been thinking about what you’ve got hiding under that button down for weeks, please don’t tease me any longer.’ and eddie sounds so desperate that steve believes him.

‘i was worried i was being too obvious, but fuck, i just couldn’t take my eyes off you.’ eddie murmurs and steve feels eddies wet kiss just below his belly button, nuzzling the soft skin and hairs. then eddie sinks his face into steve’s belly for real, dips his tongue into steve’s belly button and swirls. steve moans, he didn’t even know that could feel so good, that it was so sensitive, but it does, and it is.

steve pulls his sweater off, tossing it into the corner. hand moving back into eddie’s curls, pushing him in deeper, relishing in eddie’s muffled groan and the slick sounds of him sucking and biting. ‘you next eddie. your turn.’ steve tugs at eddie’s hair, pulling him away from his now glistening stomach. eddie’s mouth hangs open, he looks fucked out and glossy.

‘fuck.’ eddie croaks taking in steve’s now naked chest, eyes roaming quickly and greedily over steve’s chest hair, pecks and arms.

steve smiles, laughs a little. ‘you okay?’ he teases. but he’s happy, kind of awed.

‘yeah.’ eddie breathes, spacey and adorable. then he seems to come back to himself a little, blinking and blushing slightly. steve can see it where the tips of his ears stick out of his hair. ‘sorry if, ah, that was too much wasn’t it?’ teeth worrying pretty pick lips.

‘no no.’ steve laughs, earnest, because steve’s happy, feels divine. he pulls on eddie wrists, making him stand. ‘no worrying’ steve holds eddie’s face in his hands, soothes his thumbs over the soft skin below eddie’s eyes. ‘just, my turn now, kay?’ and steve kisses him, firm and deep.

steve’s lets his hands roam, sliding down eddis arms and up his sides before returning to his hips, thumbs stoking and dipping where hip, meets jeans, meets boxers. he steps in closer so they’re chest to chest and squeezes eddies ass. and oh, how eddie opens up for him. tongue hot and wet, hips flush and grinding, holding steve’s shoulders like he’s scared to float away.

steve slides his hands up eddie’s back, taking his shirt up with them. ‘off’ he says, their lips still connected. eddie steals one more peck before he steps back and steve gets to see all of his pale, tattooed chest for the first time.

‘oh.’ he says, amazed. he knew eddie had some. but, patches of eddie are covered with art. some spooky intricate things, some old with bleeding edges and steve can’t help but touch. tracing their lines and watching as goose bumps travel down eddie’s arms, nipples hard and pretty pink. steve traces them, tweaks them, smiling when he hears eddie’s faint gasp.

‘pretty.’ steve says. looking into eddie’s eyes. he wets his lips and lets his hand travel down, squeezing eddies cock through his jeans, relishing in the weight and warmth of it in his palm, through the denim.

slowly, eddie’s brings both of steve’s hands to the fly of his jeans. eyes dark and hungry. steve takes his time, popping the button, pulling the zipper down tooth by tooth, knuckles giving steady pressure to eddie’s length. once it’s open eddie pulls them down, boxers going too. deft fingers tugging at steve’s boxers, pulling them off, tossing it all aside. until they’re standing in front of each other, both completely naked, cocks hard and flushed red, pre pearling at the heads.

something about the feeling of air on his hard cock has steve pausing, sinking into his head a little. he really likes eddie, they’re doing this, it’s scary. he’s not, he hasn’t had feelings like this in a long time. it could really hurt, eddie could really hurt him, if it keeps going the way steve hopes.

steve’s been still and silent too long. ‘um, fuck, sorry, it really has been a long time and i ah, i don’t usually do this on a first date and uhm...’ steve says, trailing off, sucking in a shaky breath.

eddie steps forward and entwines his pinkie with steve’s finger. it’s such a comforting, tender gesture that something in steve melts. how lovely actually, that it’s been so long, but that he’s able to feel these things again.

‘hey.’ eddie’s voice is soft. ‘no worrying.’ his thumb strokes against the back of steve’s hand. ‘and me neither. i’ve, honestly had an embarrassingly small number of first dates. but, this one’s been perfect, even if it ends here.’ and eddie looks so happy, so earnest. steve steps forward and kisses the corner of his mouth.

eddie turns his head into it, capturing steve’s lips. coming together they groan as their lengths slide against each other. tongues entering mouths, spit slick and sloppy.

‘you wanna lay down?’ steve asks, taking a tentative hand and squeezing their cocks together as one.

eddie’s eyes close at the contact. ‘yeah. but, uh, i don’t think i’m gonna last long, sorry.’ he says, breathing deep through his nose.

another squeeze and steve let’s go, pulling eddie onto the bed with him. ‘good. me neither.’ steve lays on his side facing eddie, mirroring each other.

‘this okay?’ steve asks, taking them both in his palm again, collecting the pre from their tips and moving slow.

‘yeah, yeah, fuck, just.’ and eddie cards one of his hands through steve’s hair, moving closer, holding him firmly at the base of his skill, eddie’s hand squeezes and steve shivers. ‘hold on just.’ eddie grunts, taking steves hand away from their cocks to lick and solid wet stipe along it, bast to tip.

‘fuck’ steve pants, slide slick and smooth now. eddie gripping the back of his head still, other hand gravitating back to his hip. roaming that plush crease at his waist.

steve speeds up, grips tighter. eddie’s pushing their foreheads together, panting, sharing breath. steve knows he can’t last long, with eddie hard and thick against him.

‘fuck, fuck, stevie’ eddie whines, curing in on himself, pulling steve closer, hand moving to grab at steve’s peck, his shoulder, blunt nails against his neck. ‘baby, i’m close, i’m close.’

steve watches, enamoured, eddie’s eyes squeezed shut, mouth pretty pink and open. ‘me too, me too’ steve pants, doesn’t want to blink, speeds up his hand, twists their heads.

eddie throws his leg over steve’s thigh, gripping a handful of his peck again, twisting the hairs at the back of his head and steve comes with a shout. eddie squeezing his chest and pulling his hair through his own orgasm, rocking against steve’s cock, steve’s hand. the pleasure pain rolls through steve, down his legs and arms, making his mind go fuzzy blank.

panting, he nuzzled into eddie, nosing at his cheek. still moving his hand in a lazy grip.

‘baby.’ eddie moans, sounding spent and sleepy and loose.

steve doesn’t open his eyes, just kisses him. pushing his messy hand into eddie’s stomach, getting him to lay flat so steve can devour him. eddie letting him eat.

eventually the kisses turn into steve breathing in eddie’s skin, head tucked into his neck. half asleep but sticky.

he rolls off, holding his hand out in front of him, as if their combined cum isn’t also all over his chest. goes to the bathroom to wash his hands and wipe himself down, coming back in with tissue and a damp towel for eddie.

eddie has rolled into his side, eyes following steve coming over. his hair a mess of frizz around his head, face happy and sleepy and satiated. steve thinks he looks glorious.

steve likes the feeling of the quiet, the focus and attention he can take to cleaning eddie off, hands roaming over pale skin. he leaves a kiss to eddie’s sternum once he’s done, the moment feels reverent and deep, something warm shifting through steve again, solidifying within him.

sleep takes them quickly, a tangle of limbs and blankets, chased kisses and wondering fingertips. eddie sighing into steve’s embrace.

steve wakes to the sound of the radio, something a little heavier than his usual morning station. both sides of the bed are still warm and everything still smells like eddie. steve shoves his face in his pillow to stifle his grin. wants to squeal, wants to kick his legs and throw the widows of his heart open wide.

he makes a quick call to work, feigning sick and gets up to find sweats.

eddie is in the kitchen, sitting at the counter and leafing through a book. he’s humming and swinging his legs, steve can’t help but stare. eddie’s hairs still a mess but he’s picked up his boxers and steve’s sweater from last night. the collar is pulled to one side and shows off a peak of collarbone, the yellow complimenting his sleep flush cheeks. steve swallows, heat rushing through his belly, his jumper looks bigger on eddie, oversized and sweet.

eddie’s finally looks up at him but he looks pointy again, mischievous and magical, even with the pillow crease on his cheek. steve comes closer, he has to kiss him.

and eddie let’s him, humming sleepy and deep. but pulls away eventually, same face still on just now with kiss pink lips. ‘these cupcakes look like the ones from the office, and these cookies, and this cheesecake.’ eddie flicks to each one. ‘funny that, don’t you think? stevie baby.’ eddie says, pointing to a page in the book, leaning into steve’s space, eyes greedy and sparkling.

oops, busted. steve blushes, takes a moment to figure out how to explain what was his frankly insane plan to get eddie to talk to him through baked goods. he scratches the back of his neck, mind blank.

‘cant you make this?’ eddie asks, turning to the page for molten chocolate cakes and tapping it with long callused fingers.

steve just looks at him, silly pretty thing. ‘for.. breakfast?’ steve asks and eddie just nods, grin getting a touch more feral, eyes on steve’s mouth, hand sliding up under steve’s t-shirt and squeezing.

#hope u like it partner *tips cowboy hat*#i might get over my embarrassment and write and actual stuffing fic with these two and milkshake #but for now its just fluff #enjoy #steddie #steddie wg #office wg au #chubby steve harrington #hotlunch #my fic #pretty proud of this one #but also don't look at me #<3 #oh and #eddie munson is a sweetheart #if u even care

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cowboysmp3 · 7 months

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imo if Phoenix and edgeworth started dating and didn’t announce it i don’t think anyone would realise 1. bc they’ve always Been Like That and 2. edgeworth is far too autistic to break the social norms he’s created and engage in ANY PDA around any mutual friends

#he has Work Mode and Not Work Mode and there’s no way he’d be able to do the cognitive shift #he would call phoenix ‘Wright’ during the work times #and the second he’s not Working he switches to Phoenix #phoenix calls him miles after a while #that is probably what tips people off that Something Has Changed #if it’s during phoenix’s living in the office era i’d say the only way they’d get Found Out #is if edgeworth was staying over #but i don’t think he would be caught DEAD in that office when not in Work Mode l #narumitsu #wrightworth #ace attorney

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compacflt · 1 year

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Rumors from Pearl Harbor.

When Admiral Kazansky first comes to Pearl, he brings with him about half of his previous staff, all exceptionally-hardworking people hand-picked over years—advisors, flag aides, secretaries, ranks all over the board. But his new hires, upon getting acquainted with the old guard, are shocked to discover that his previous staff still hardly knows him at all.

“He keeps to himself, mostly,” Lieutenant Commander Hartford explains over a pint. “I made the mistake of asking him once what he did for fun. You know, like, hobbies and stuff. He blinked at me for a second, and then said, ‘I read.’ That’s it! I read! My advice to you newcomers would be, don’t ask him questions about his personal life, because it tends to be pretty boring.”

“It sounds to me like he’s a walking, talking Wikipedia page,” says Captain Calvert, who worked for the previous two Pacific Fleet Commanders and thinks she knows how to deal with them by now. “We owe it to ourselves to figure him out. It’ll make our lives easier, anyway. So, let’s put our heads together: what do we know about him?”

What they know are his habits, which they’ll come to learn intimately over the next few years, and which are admittedly pretty boring. Admiral Kazansky is one of the first to show up to work in the morning and one of the last to leave in the evening. He often answers e-mails past 2300 hours, but never later than midnight. Jokes never catch him off-guard; he rarely smiles, and when he does, it has an ulterior motive. When he’s not working, he’s scheming and making plans to go back home to San Diego, and his requests for leave are always granted, because he works like a pack mule from home anyway. He signs off every e-mail with “Sincerely,”…

“Is he sincere, though?” asks Chief Warrant Officer Kent halfway through Admiral Kazansky’s first year. (Admiral Kazansky is surely unaware that his staff now spends the second Friday of every month chit-chatting about him over drinks in downtown Honolulu.) “I can’t ever tell. And he lives in Hawaii. San Diego’s nice, I know, but what’s so different about the beaches there that he can’t get here?”

“I genuinely don’t think he’s human,” confesses Commander Stoddard. “People warned me about that when I came here, and I laughed it off, but… he keeps his desk biologically sterile. Not one fingerprint, but I’ve never seen anyone wipe it down. I’ve looked through his drawers. Don’t judge me, I got curious. Everything squared away, like he’s goddamn Einstein or something. Have any of you ever seen him in his civvies?” No one has. “God damn it, where does he shop for groceries? No one’s seen him at a grocery store? Does he even own a pair of jeans? Does he wear his uniform to bed, too?”

“He probably goes grocery shopping on the whole other side of the island to avoid all the enlisted kids,” laughs Captain Calvert. “Come to think of it…you know how he always eats lunch in the office? It’s always a salad. And always the same kind of salad. This guy survives on one cup of coffee and one spinach salad a day. Maybe he really isn’t human.”

They build out their wealth of knowledge and come to learn that Admiral Kazansky is defined by his extremes, by what he always does and what he never does. Admiral Kazansky gets his uniforms dry-cleaned every week, though he never spills anything on them. No one has ever seen Admiral Kazansky stumble over his words while giving a speech, or trip over a sidewalk curb, or push a “pull” door. He is always polite and never friendly. Sometimes he is cold, and sometimes he is cruel in his patience with you when you’ve fucked up, like a cat toying with a hemorrhaging mouse. But he never raises his voice. He is always immaculately put-together, well-groomed, constructed every day like a product on an assembly line. Nothing is ever out of place. Allegedly his umbrella once turned inside-out during a rainstorm; he disdainfully shook it once, as a hunter might pump a loaded shotgun, and it flipped itself right-side-in again. The laws of physics do not seem to apply to him. Nor do the natural embarrassments that come with being human. Admiral Kazansky is never flustered, never harried, and never falls apart.

“I found this old picture of him shaking hands with another pilot on the Internet,” says Chief Warrant Officer Kent in Admiral Kazansky’s second year. “Smiling like the Cheshire Cat. Never seen him smile like that in all my years working with him. And he had frosted tips, too. Like Guy Fieri on a diet and steroids. It was the eighties, sure, but it’s like he knew how to have fun, once upon a time. Wonder what happened to him.”

“I feel lonely for him sometimes,” says Commander Stoddard. “Strict guy like that, no family, no friends, no wife, nothing to live for but the Navy? He’s like a workhorse with blinders on. Nowhere to go but forward. That’s a lonely existence.”

“Not if you’re a robot,” says Lieutenant Commander Hartford. “I swear, sometimes he breathes and it makes me jump, ‘cause I forgot he was alive!” —What else doesn’t Admiral Kazansky do?

That’s when they realize that none of them, not the old guard nor the new, has ever, not once, ever seen or heard Admiral Kazansky sneeze.

And they all finally give up the game and quit arguing and agree that, no, he really isn’t human after all. He must be some cyborg from the future sent to whip the Pacific Fleet into shape, and you can’t ask for too much humanity from someone who’s doing a pretty damn good job of it.

The rumors start soon after that. Jokes that could get them all tossed out of the Navy, but probably won’t. Jokes that accidentally spread like wildfire.

Yes, Admiral Kazansky could be a cyborg, but he also could be a Mormon fundamentalist, or a Scientologist, or a really weird Catholic. Maybe he goes home to San Diego so often because in his spare time he’s really a mule ferrying cocaine across the Mexi-Cali border. That’s what he does for fun. He eats spinach salads because he’s a reincarnation of Popeye the Sailor Man, and he needs all the super-strength he can get to deal with the Navy’s modern-day bullshit.

“I don’t know if that story makes sense,” laughs Captain Calvert on the phone with her husband in Washington, “but it makes more sense than the real Admiral Kazansky does!”

So the rumors get spread around.

“I don’t know if you know this,” Maverick comments, watching Ice make their bed from the relative comfort of the bedroom doorway, “or if I should tell you this, because you might crack down on it, which would be a shame, ‘cause it’s funny. But every time you send a mass e-mail to the Pacific Fleet commissioned officer corps, you become the main topic of conversation between all of us officers for a solid day and a half.”

“Oh?” says Ice with a smile, struggling to fit the last corner of the fitted sheet to the mattress. He sighs, tugs on the strings of his old ratty-ass hooded sweatshirt, and looks at Maverick balefully through his glasses. “Help me out over here, would you? —What are people saying? All good things, I hope.”

“Not really,” Maverick says, stuffing a pillow into a pillowcase as he stares out the window into the San Diego sunshine. “Some pretty crazy shit, actually. Hard as hell for me to keep a straight face. I heard this one—you know, people are saying you eat nothing but salads?”

“Oh,” laughs Ice, hospital-cornering the free sheet. “Yeah, that one’s kind of true. I bring salads in to the office sometimes.”

“You hate salads.”

“I know, it’s torture! Move over.” He bumps Maverick out of the way to tuck in the last corner. “But, I figure, if a man torments himself with spinach-and-arugula salads three times a week, you ought to respect his commitment. It’s all an act. You get to a certain Defense Department paygrade, it all starts being storytelling and stagecraft.”

“Or trickery and deception, depending on how you look at it.”

“Sure. But you could say that about everything. —Besides, I’d rather the Navy discuss my salads than discuss… well, this.” He gestures to Maverick, then down to the bed. They start tugging the comforter over it together. “How much slack you got over there?”

“‘Bout a foot.”

Ice pulls his side down a couple more inches to match, then flips the top up. “Is that it? That’s all people are saying about me?”

Maverick grins and bends down to pick up a pillow. “They’re also saying that you’re the reincarnation of Popeye the Sailor Man. I yam what I yam and that’s all what I yam, and all that. Think fast.”

Ice doesn’t think fast, and the pillow hits him square in the face, and he laughs again as he catches it in his arms. “Shit, that’s good,” he says; “I was just about to call Slider, think I’ll tell him that one. That’ll make him laugh. Popeye Iceman.” He tosses the pillow onto the made-up bed and pulls out his cell phone, but—then he frowns, grimaces, mutters “Ah, no,” and turns away to sneeze.

#these are not real OCs obv #none of my OCs ever are #just names saying things #if a tree (ice) falls in a forest (sneezes in his office) and no one’s around to hear #does it really make a sound?#cyclone hears these rumors and immediately starts slamming salads and dry cleaning his uniforms #what he doesn’t understand is that sometimes overachieving is driven by having something you desperately want to keep hidden #im very interested in an interpretation of TG86 ice that #has constructed a mythos/character around himself #(best of the best & scary frosted tips for example)#to hide the truth of who he actually is.#Popeye iceman #top gun #top gun maverick #pete maverick mitchell #icemav #tom iceman kazansky #top gun fanfiction #it’s the way he lives. ice-cold; no mistakes.#popeye’s ‘I am what I am and that’s all that I am’ would be good advice for my ice to take #of course around mav tho…

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corvase · 2 years

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workplace romance prompts

feel free to use :)

character a starts at a new firm and lo and behold the person in the office (character b) over is a childhood friend/high school ex

them racing each other to the office every morning

them walking in together and splitting up reluctantly to start their work day (esp if they work in diff departments or are keeping the relationship a secret)

them eating lunch together in the cafeteria

“have you eaten?” “no.” “be there in two.”

one leaving roses and lilies at the others desk every morning

office enemies to lovers !!! must i even say anything i have like a million enemies to lovers posts

rather than competing to make the other fail, challenging each other to work harder and become better at their job

“do you think we should tell anyone?” “i’m okay with whatever you want. i’m just glad you’re mine.”

them sending little sticky notes to each other during work

both of them sick of the job, huddled together in a corner, faces inches apart like “no, don’t quit. if you quit, then i’ll quit.” “if we both quit then our full time job can be loving each other.” “God you’re corny. i love it.”

“what do you need from me? i don’t need this job. i don’t need any of them, okay? i just want you.”

both of them just being passionate about their work together

working in the same office for years but never really running into each other until one meeting

“i am so tired i could sleep in lava.” “come, my love. i’ll carry you to the car.”

unfortunately, character a works with their ex. when they’re unwillingly arguing with them off to the side, character b happens to overhear and defends character a while pretending to be their current partner to shoo the ex off… but now the whole office thinks they’re dating

“maybe if you could do your job i wouldn’t have to correct you.” “maybe if you stopped correcting me you wouldn’t be getting fired.”

rather than working in the same office, one works in the actual office and the other works in the cafeteria, or the janitorial, or the front desk, or the print office

both of them snuck away and are hiding together, trying to keep their laughing fits as quiet as possible

^^ “stop laughing, i really have to get back to the conference in like five minutes!” “we can make it quick.” “STOP.”

“wait… you like ME??? i thought you liked (other colleague)???!!?!(“ “HELLO???? I LITERALLY SWITCHED TO YOUR DEPARTMENT FOR YOU!!!”

“i can’t believe we worked together for five years and i’ve literally never even seen you.”

both of them being able to rant about colleagues or bosses they can’t stand

“i admire you so much.” “stop.” “no, i’m serious. you do your job so damn well, i’m in awe of you.” “we have the same job.” “and you do it better!”

“race you to the cafeteria?” “always.”

disagreement on whether or not they should tell their other colleagues

i also caution everyone who wants to write a boss/colleague story! not that i’m saying it never works, those often get tricky with power dynamics and can ruin the romance aspect. otherwise happy writing :)

#workplace romance prompts !!!!#workplace romance #workplace prompts #office romance #office prompts #office romance prompts #writeblr #writing #writing tips #writing advice #writing romance #writing prompts #romance prompts #dialogue prompts #romance writing prompts #imagine your otp #otp romance prompts #otp prompts

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marc--chilton · 9 days

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is there a list of all the songs that play in the bg of those hilson scenes, i'm making a playlist

#house md #hilson #tip of my tongue in particular about the one in the bit where they're in house's office i think #and wilson gives him this look and the song is talking about kissing in the dark i think?#in secret?? what if?? and i can't remember what episode that is either so i can't look it up

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unashamedly-enthusiastic · 16 days

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Absolutely devastated that the Instagram algorithm has assigned me "interested in PowerPoint and Word tutorials" and the fact that it is correct

#the mortifying ordeal of being known #But by an algorithm #Devastating #I made such a funky ppt the other day #And I had to say #“I learned it on Instagram”#The site that used to be my friends dinners #And then strangers dogs #And now office tips #😭😭😭#Corporate life

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jadegiantess · 1 year

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#mitch mcconnell #current events #officer down #senator down #crab rave countdown #god pls fucking die while im on vacation with my partners #i know its not that we are gay that did it #but if our vibes leeched into the atmosphere to tip it..... i will let us have this #because we are queer and we deserve it #in fact all queers are allowed to take credit #its not one of the powers conservatives fear mongered about us having #but i think we should let ourselves have this power and use it to kill him like we did the queen

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asking-for-apologies · 5 months

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Self-Care Tip

Remember to stay hydrated while hunting the Rebellion!

#captain needa #galactic empire #star wars crack #self-care tips from a dead imperial officer

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femmefatalevibe · 9 months

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Femme Fatale Guide: Purse Essentials For Day & Night (or Any Activity In Between)

Daytime Handbag Essentials:

Keys

Wallet/cardholder (ID[s], credit/debit cards, spare cash – enough for an emergency cab/train ticket, a bottle of water, and a cheap snack plus a little extra is my formula)

Phone/phone charger

Airpods/headphones

Mini sunscreen

Hand lotion

Floss picks in a travel floss dispenser

Mini disposable toothbrushes

Breath mints

Portable stain remover wipes

Hand sanitizer

Lip balm/your everyday lip color

Eyeliner

Brow pencil

Power foundation

Contour/blush stick

Oil blotting sheets

Roll-on perfume

Hair ties

Foldable mini hair brush

Feminine hygiene wipes

Panty liners/pads/tampons

Travel case bandaids

Condoms (not in a wallet, please)

A pen or two

Portable sticky notes

Travel pack of tissues

Spare glasses/contacts & contact solution

Sunglasses

OTC pain relief medicine

Water bottle

Non-perishable snacks (I recommend Larabars, Lupini beans/roasted chickpeas/edamame, roasted nuts/trail mix snack packs, Lupii/Raw Rev vegan protein bars, and freeze-dried fruit)

Nighttime Handbag Essentials:

Keys

Wallet/cardholder (ID[s], credit/debit cards, spare cash – enough for an emergency cab/train ticket, a bottle of water, and a cheap snack plus a little extra is my formula)

Phone/portable phone charger

Mini sunscreen

Hand lotion

Floss picks in a travel floss dispenser

Mini disposable toothbrushes

Breath mints

Portable stain remover wipes

Hand sanitizer

Lip balm/your everyday lip color

Eyeliner

Brow pencil

Mini power foundation

Roll-on perfume

Hair ties

Foldable mini hair brush

Feminine hygiene wipes

Panty liner (and maybe a pad/tampon, depending on the time of the month)

Portable makeup remover wipe (or two)

Portable cleansing towelette (or two)

Travel case bandaids

Condoms (at least two – not in a wallet, please)

Disposable foot socks

OTC pain relief medicine

Vitamin B-complex, Vitamin C, and Vitamin D supplement (one of each – for after or the morning after drinking)

Necessary Edit: This list is meant to be a comprehensive guide, designed to be personalized. If you don't think you need some of these items, [pick and choose at your discretion].

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businessmemes · 7 months

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Lymph nodes are the source of business acumen and need to be palpated and massaged regularly.

#business #businesscore #business memes #nostalgia #office space #vaporwave #retro #memes #80s aesthetic #doctor #doctors office #exercise #lymph node #business tips #business acumen

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preservationofnormalcy · 5 months

Note

We here at G. Willikers college of the clowning arts greatly respect the work of this office, and would like to ask permission to print and hang some of your office's posters as a way to keep our student body informed.

Permission granted - but remind your student body that clowning is a privilege, not a right, and Coulrosurveillance protocols remain in force as per the agreement.

#office for the preservation of normalcy #ask #also consider tipping my ko-fi thank you #debatably canon #clowns

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littlesistersti · 3 months

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To Fans of Nyo!Belarus...

To any of you who named him “Arlovskaya”, do you know how surnames work in Russian-speaking countries? Also, did you read the kitawiki? It never said “Arlovskaya”, it said “Arlofsky” or “Arlovski”. Although, Arlovski is a real person, and I’m pretty sure Natasha’s surname isn’t Arlofskaya with an f.

Can any Russians and Belarusians confirm if Natalya/Natallia is still relevant? Is it an outdated name or still going? I feel most of the characters have old people name.

Update: Wikipedia said the Belarusian spelling is feminine “Арлоўская” (Arlouskaya, Arloŭskaja, Arlowskaya) or masculine “Арлоўскі” (Arloŭski, Arlowski) but I know every Belarusians will write however they think is correct, because we all think differently according to the language we understand. You know that internet meme what language do bilinguals/polyglots think in? The better question is what language rules do they think in? Example, came across a name on a social media handle “Bitl” and I thought “wait, I thought your name is Zhuk?” Turns out, Zhuk means beatle. (Edit: I mispelt beetle)

PS. Why did people name Romania “Vlad” after Vlad Tepes then proceeded to name him “Vladimir” when that’s a Russian name and Vlad Tepes the Impaler’s full name is right there, “Vladislav”. How did we fail that one?????

PPS. I forgot when I wrote this. This sat in my drafts forever.

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softquietsteadylove · 3 months

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Hey. Had this idea of Thena being a billionaire and Gil being her private chef on her private little beach house in the Hamptons!

Maybe you can do something with that? 😊

Gil smiled as he plated the perfect omelette, gleaming yellow, nice loose scramble in the middle with a pristine outside. He sprinkled on some green onion for garnish; Thena acted like she didn't care about presentation but he knew she liked it when her food looked nice.

Thena was...interesting. She could be hard to read, maybe. He had been in the private cooking business for a while, and he'd had a variety of clients. But no one like Thena.

Thena had this old family house, basically a castle, way out here in the Hamptons--as antisocial as possible. She was in charge of her family's generational wealth, he was pretty sure they did business with historical...stuff. Or something.

Thena didn't talk much. The first time he interviewed for the position with her in the room he wasn't even sure if she spoke English. But her assistant - a very sweet man named Karun - assured him that 'the Madame' was perfectly nice. Just not to bother her.

But Karun was right: Thena was nice. Sure, she didn't exactly make small talk with him while she was eating or anything. But she had a nice smile, she was prompt with money, both for his pay and for any of the ingredients he needed. He always had transportation home, or he had a room ready for him if he was staying for a whole weekend.

Gil put the plate on a place mat at the opposite counter top. Thena liked eating in the kitchen instead of the cavernous dining room. She ate a a French style omelette, or if she was feeling adventurous, maybe a frittata, or he had even prepared omurice for her once. She liked fresh pressed grapefruit juice with a little natural sweetener in it. And berries picked from the gardens.

And he liked to add a little flower if there were any blooming on the strawberry plants while he was out picking.

Thena came in through the patio. She had already done her morning routine, then. A light workout, a shower, maybe a sauna. Her phone was in her hand but she famously didn't accept anyone speaking to her before 9 in the morning. She smiled and nodded to him as she took her seat.

She was in a good mood.

Gil turned around, carefully transporting the gold rimmed cup with his best cappuccino yet. He had even looked up how to make latte art to make a heart design in it.

Thena blinked, surprised as it slid into her view. She looked up at him.

He just nodded, encouraging her to take a sip.

She raised an eyebrow but did so. Usually he waited for her to ask for a specific coffee, since it could vary largely depending on the morning.

He shrugged; something about how beautiful the sunrise was had told him she would want something fun. It wasn't sunday, so she wouldn't want something as filling as a latte. But she only drank black coffee when she was already in a bad mood. Actually, now that he thought about it he ought to get more vanilla soy milk.

Thena sighed at her first sip, her shoulders lowering as she let the hot beverage soak into her. She really was in a good mood.

Gil just chuckled, keeping his comments to himself. He had come to respect the serenity Thena created for herself in the early mornings. He turned again to clear his dishes and fill the dishwasher.

He had to get soy milk, and a few other general weekend groceries. And he needed to get ingredients for a recipe he saw online, essentially a lemon cake tiramisu. Thena liked zingy, fresh flavours, and she enjoyed having something sweet on hand for if a craving hit her out of nowhere or after a hard day.

"It's perfect."

He tried to conceal the surprise he was feeling. But he couldn't help it; Thena had almost never commented on anything he made her, unless it was a brief line attached in an email. He turned, "y-yeah?"

She nodded.

He pursed his lips faintly. Back to silence--okay, sure. He peeked in the fridge to examine what else they had and what he needed. When he had asked Karun what Thena liked to keep on hand, he had merely stated that Thena was so bad at cooking, and so selective about food, that if left to her own devices she would probably just eat raw fruit forever.

"How did you know?"

He grinned. So, he was making progress! He had tried more actively in the beginning to get her to warm up to him. But he had come to accept that Thena didn't withhold her words deliberately. Still, he liked it when she did talk. "Just thought you'd be in the mood for it."

She raised her eyebrows at him from behind the cup being tipped up to her lips again.

He closed the fridge and moved back to the counter. "It's nice and mild out this morning, so I think you should have slept well. Stocks are looking good and you don't have to travel this weekend, right? I figured you would want something a little fun."

Thena smiled through his explanation. Maybe some of his observations of her would be a little much to some. But she nodded, looking down into her cappuccino, one leg bent and resting on her cushioned stool. "I assumed you would prefer when I travel?"

Gil blinked.

She set the mug down, as if this were a very important business meeting. "If I'm here, you don't get the weekend off. Or at the very least, you have plenty of work to do before hand."

"I don't mind," he shrugged easily. It was part of the job, and as far as clients went, Thena really wasn't all that demanding. She wasn't even that high maintenance, all things considered.

Food was easy to procure, either grown here or paid for out of her pocket. The only real stipulations of what he made was that she had to eat it. Karun was kind of like a worrisome father in that way. He had added specifically that she needed more vegetables, and that meant it was up to Gil to make them in such a way that Thena would actually like them.

"Do you ever think you may be too agreeable?"

"Hm," Gil ran his hand over his chin (he needed to shave). "I think it's more like...part of the job, y'know?"

"Hm."

Gil blinked at the new tone of the sound. She looked back at her breakfast. She sounded almost...disappointed. Disheartened, and now poking at her omelette like a dejected little kid. Gil leaned off the further counter and moved closer to her. "I just...wanted to do something kind of special for you."

She peeked up at him. She was awfully cute for some zillionaire old money type. Her hair was nice and soft from being gently blow dried, she didn't have any makeup on, fresh from the shower. Maybe all rich people were really, really pretty.

"You're not contractually obligated to be thoughtful," she smiled as she said it, but he got the impression that she didn't fully believe in her own joke.

He shrugged again, pushing the little flower closer to her, "call it my signature, then. Every chef has their own style--I like being a little sweet."

Thena smiled at the little white strawberry flower. She even reached out to it, but just barely let her fingers brush its soft petals, as if she would make it burst into flame. "Quite."

Gil inhaled, feeling better now that she was smiling again. She looked up at him, the sun behind her, making her hair glow. He blushed.

"Thank you, Gilgamesh."

He laughed faintly, feeling shy as she turned those siren eyes on him. He leaned back from the counter, sticking his hands in his apron pockets. "Hey, it's my pleasure, really."

"If you have shopping to do, Karun will call for a car for you," she added as he started slowly slipping - stumbling - out of the kitchen.

"Th-Thanks!" Gil squeaked out before reaching the hallway. He pulled his apron off and gripped it on his way to take it to the laundry room.

"You require transport, sir!"

Gil jumped at the sudden appearance of the man in question. "God, man, can't you walk a little louder!"

"My apologies, sir," Karun just chuckled. "The Madame walks lightly--as do I."

Thena walked around like a cat. She was silent, graceful, long legs...

"Sir?"

Fuck. Gil nodded, twisting his apron in his hands. He tilted his head as Karun shuffled closer, even waving him down so he could share something secretive.

"Excellent choice with the cappuccino, sir," he disclosed with glee. "The Madame has been trying to strike up a conversation with you for some time. I believe this was the perfect-"

"Karun!"

"I must go," he waved to Gilgamesh before dashing off to see to Thena's needs.

Gil felt a little stunned. It sounded like Karun was telling him that Thena had been wanting to talk with him. But that didn't seem right. Of all the times he had tried to chat with her, she had never bit, even once. And he didn't really think of her as the shy type.

He sighed, shrugging it off. He had groceries to get, anyway. Maybe he would try talking with her again, later.

#Thenamesh AU #yesss this is a super cute request!#thank you so much love!#Thena is this quiet and reserved lady of course #she does business either in her office or she goes to the city for it #she doesn't drive and Gil would usually just bike places #he was a little unused to sitting in the back of a car all the time #but it's a great way to get all the groceries he needs #Karun is like a meddlesome dad #he knows his daughter has a crush on her new chef but #let's face it #Thena has negative socialisation skills in this #she went to boarding schools and etiquette lessons #she doesn't know how to...chat #so she tries to think of something to say to Gil every morning #but he's so good at respecting that she likes it quiet #too good at it #sometimes he'll say something and she'll reply #statement and statement #and then later she scolds herself for not realising he was trying to just talk to her like a normal person #poor dear #Karun nearly tipping Gil off that it took everything in her to ask about the cappuccino this morning #and she's like DAD get in here!!!#Karun is doing the w o r k #Thenamesh Hamptons AU

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