Slims and all curvy~ Sweet, shy and nervy~ There is nothin’ as refined as beautiful~ No sun can shine as beautiful~ Bring on a line of beautiful~ Dames, dames, dames, dames, Dames, dames, dames, dames- Dames~!
Darn it, you made me genuinely curious XDD What kind of toothpaste do you use? ;3; I use the stupid strawberry kind because minty toothpaste makes my mouth freak the fuck out.
Oh? Uh… I use the minty kind, the cinnamon is too intense for me and I use Crest toothpaste. Uh… no mouthwash, that stuff hurts my mouth… oh! And I wanna try the bacon flavored floss and toothpaste!!! I know where to get that shit!
A young nurse poked her head into the quiet room. In the chair across from the door sat the man she was looking for. His head was bent low, hands clasped together and pressed against his forehead. His hair and clothes were disheveled, and it was no wonder. She smiled sympathetically. She was sure it had been a very long night for him.
“Sir?” She called. “Sir, it’s over.” The man in question shot to his feet, staggering unsteadily for a moment. His limbs were stiff and unresponsive, as though exacting revenge for the long, tense stillness in an uncomfortable waiting room chair.
“You can visit them now if you like.” The woman noted, opening the door further in invitation. He stepped forward, ducking under the door frame before following her down the hall.
Once upon a time Hailee was at the pool minding her own business enjoying a Popsicle and was staring off into the distance when a snotty girl apparently thought i was staring at her, so she rudely asked “What are you looking at ugly” and i was like “:C” and my entire day was ruined and I cried tears of sad and i didn’t even finish my Popsicle…
Ladies & Gentlemen, I give you, the 2012 Republican Presidential Candidates:
"Don’t misunderstand. I am not here bashing people who are homosexuals, who are lesbians, who are bisexual, who are transgender. We need to have profound compassion for people who are dealing with the very real issue of sexual dysfunction in their life and sexual identity disorders.” (2004)
"The rate of AIDS infection is on the increase again. From the gay point of view, the reasons seem quite sensible. First, these men don't really see a reason to live past their fifties. They are not married, they have no children, and their lives are centered on new sexual partners... because sex is the center of their lives, they want it to be as pleasurable as possible, which means unprotected sex. Third, they enjoy the attention & pity that comes with being sick." (1995 in a newsletter)
"I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm a Christian, but you don't need to be in the pew every Sunday to know there's something wrong in this country when gays can serve openly in the military but our kids can't openly celebrate Christmas or pray in school. " (2011 in a campaign ad)
"I should tell my story. I'm also unemployed." (2011 while speaking to unemployed people in Florida. Romney's net worth is over $200 million.)
"She's not young enough or pretty enough to be the wife of the President. And besides, she has cancer." (1994, about his first wife)
"Is anyone saying same-sex couples can’t love each other? I love my children. I love my friends, my brother. Heck, I even love my mother-in-law. Should we call these relationships marriage, too?" (2008)
"Carbon dioxide is portrayed as harmful. But there isn't even one study that can be produced that shows that carbon dioxide is a harmful gas." (2009 during a debate)
"PETA is not happy that my dog likes fresh air." (2006, when questioned about driving 12 hours with his dog in a cage strapped to the top of his car)
1 Hear what the LORD says to you, people of Israel. 2 This is what the LORD says:
“Do not learn the ways of the nations or be terrified by signs in the heavens, though the nations are terrified by them. 3 For the practices of the peoples are worthless; they cut a tree out of the forest, and a craftsman shapes it with his chisel. 4 They adorn it with silver and gold; they fasten it with hammer and nails so it will not totter. 5 Like a scarecrow in a cucumber field, their idols cannot speak; they must be carried because they cannot walk. Do not fear them; they can do no harm nor can they do any good.”
Wheatley was engaged in combat, and he was losing.
“Been in a ball for decades and she expects me to figure out how to use these… fiddly diddly wotzits within a week…”
The sharp skulled man muttered ominously at his reflection, trying to fathom which way each finger was headed and attempting to herd them into some semblance of coordination. The thin strip of silk that he was trying to arrange around his neck without strangling himself was hardly helping matters, putting itself in the most unreasonable places which he had most certainly not told it to go, and gathering into such a collection of knots around his trachea that it seemed it was doing its utmost to resemble a noose if little else.
“She doesn’t even have to wear one.” He chuntered darkly at the mirror with the wrinkled nose and pouting lips. “She just has to chuck on one of those long things that doesn’t even have trouser legs.”
Contemplating this grossly unfair situation, and wondering why he wasn’t allowed to wear one of those long, trouser-leg-less things too, he grappled with the memory that had led to this ordeal. ‘It would be a nice way to start off’ she’d explained, with her sunshine face. ‘Introduce you, get off to a good start.’
But what was a good start anyway? Did it have to include a dinner? Did it have to include getting dressed for dinner?
‘I’m sure you remember how to do it’, she’d smiled, comfortingly, confidently. Of course he did, he’d replied, as he always did when he had no idea what he was getting himself into. How could she even imagine he’d forget something as basic as that? He’d be down before her, just you see, as fine as Fred Astaire and twice as dandy.
But Fred Astaire didn’t look as if he’d been put through a mangle. Fred Astaire didn’t have arguments with his collar, which stood on end as if electrocuted, didn’t have to re-fasten his shirt three times to get the holes and buttons to match up.
“I bet Ginger helped him at any rate…”
This forlorn sigh was accompanied by his eyes wandering to the myriad of confusing items strung up on the wall, as if trying to find anything to look at but the calamity that was unfolding and creasing and falling apart in front of him. He had some idea about them- people used those pokey things with bristles to sort out the sticky-up-stuff on the top of their heads so it didn’t stick up as much as his. Those things that looked like someone’s hands had dried and peeled off went over your hands (perhaps so they didn’t dry and peel off), and that thing there was… well.
The first thing that occurred to him was that it was blue; the very same blue as the new dual optics he had. It was this that led him to the second observation- which was that usually the first thought he had in regards to anything was ‘what is that’ and ‘how do I use it without dying?’
But he knew what that was. That was a bow tie. More than that he knew how to use it, and he knew how to use the long dangly things that were hanging up next to it.
Aw, whiny Wheatley getting all dappered up for a date. It is a lot of work getting tooth-rottingly cute. Freaking love the hands.
Can i just address this to all the girls who are not confident about their looks or about their body. You are all beautiful, people are always going to be shit talkers but you have to let that all aside and accept yourself for who you are. Love yourself.
He was said to be a gift for the BLU Medic, a clone to relieve him from stress of his duties. He was small, scrawny and not as bright as the doctor, but was a fast and loyal person who always tried his best to please and impress his teammates… something he wasn’t successful with. They avoided him, ignored him, scolded him and nagged him… he was like a curious child, still learning and trying to understand the world around him. It was annoying to most of the team to see him stumbling around and asking questions about the stupidest things. Well, stupid to them, all new to him. Anything he touched usually got broken and any chance the team got, they’d get great entertainment in tricking the naive little clone. They still laugh when remembering the time when Scout told him if he pretended he was shaking a salt shaker over his tongue, he’d taste salt. A science facility was even interested in using him to develop something called an Intelligence Dampening Sphere. Medic almost let them have him, but heard they used some British guy instead.
There was one person who seemed to care about the sad Medic. Pyro would hug him when he was sad or alone, hold his hand and pull him along to show him some baby ducks or sneak into the kitchen to steal a box of cookies and eat them in Pyro’s room and stayed nearby on the battlefield just in case he needed help. He didn’t seem to understand why Pyro followed him around like a puppy but didn’t complain. Pyro was nice to him and made him feel safe and comfortable in this large, confusing place. How he felt about Pyro was confusing. After all, he didn’t know much about friendships, let alone relationships… he needed some guidance and Pyro would always be there to help him.
One morning, while curled up in his bed and breathing softly, someone flipped the switch on his alarm clock to not let it wake him. While leaning over slowly and carefully, kisses were placed his cheeks, forehead, jaw and nose tenderly. He twitched and winced as the soft touches dotted all over his face and squeaked in confusion when a final one was placed on his mouth. His face turned dark red and after some squirming, he opened his eyes to see no one there. He whined a bit in confusion and rubbed the back of his head in confusion, not sure how to feel about this.
Meanwhile, Pyro finished pulling the gas mask back on outside of the clone’s room, heart swelled with pride and trying to keep the giggling at a low volume.
I know I got a lot more kiss fics to do… just keep patient and I’m sorry if your gifts are late… damn my sister for giving me Skyrim… there goes my life, right out the window… I’ll be playing this game forever… if I did miss anyone’s send me a note JUST in case… and no nagging, I’m on my sanity’s end.
“No, will you stop!” she whined, trying to push his face away from hers with a giggle. He was being flirtatious, something that happens every day she comes home early from work. “I swear, you are like a dog,” she muttered with a grin.
“Sue me, I missed you,” he purred, tossing his hat off his head to nuzzle into her neck. He still smelled of gunpowder and dirt from battle today and it made her crinkle her nose and demand he at least change his clothes. She opened her mouth to do so and tensed when he pressed his mouth against her neck, gently nibbling up and down her neck while making soft, playful growls. “Mm Caroline…”
“O-oh stop it,” she grumbled against his mouth when he pushed it against hers, face red and knees weak. “You’re horny…”
“I am not, trying to be a loving husband,” he cooed, nuzzling into her neck again while trailing a hand down her back, wincing when she slapped the wrist lightly. “Aw, don’t hate me…”
“I don’t hate you… just don’t ruin my dress with those dirty hands,” she muttered, gripping his chin so he looked at her. “Wash them and meet me in the bedroom, no excuses.” He chuckled and kissed at her neck again, nipping at her skin just to piss her off and make her more flustered.
“AHH!!!” He jumped when two arms wrapped around him tightly, pulling the trigger in shock and accidentally killing one of the harmless doves resting on the roof. “DAMN IT SPY!!!”
“Oh hush, we’re not in battle yet,” he cooed, taking his hat off to put on his own head.
“You’re wasting a bullet that’s what you’re doing!” the Sniper muttered, loading his gun again and taking aim to view his surroundings. “Yeah we got time, but I’m trying to be efficient and prepared for…” He stopped when he felt the Frenchman tug on his collar playfully. “Don’t you even THINK about it, we got five minutes before-.” He gasped, gripping the gun tightly as a pair of teeth clamped onto his neck gently, groaning when his lover growled and sent pleasant chills running down his spine. The Frenchman smirked, mouth still on his neck and squeezing him gently to get some words out of him. “… W-we got five minutes, right?”
“Four, but I think that might be enough for now,” he purred and kissed under his ear while loosening his own tie.
A hard shoulder collided with her own, sending her stumbling backwards and falling off the curb to land in a cold, muddy puddle. She grunted with slight pain and pure frustration, the combination of dirtied clothes, ruined bag of groceries and cold air was something she didn’t want to deal with this evening. No one in London could care any less for a girl like her, poor and alone while wandering the streets to try and survive. If her parents could see her, living on the streets after the orphanage closed down with the doctor dead, cold and starving with no one to turn to. It was disgustingly pathetic.
She struggled to get up while wiping mud off her coat and paused when a gloved hand entered her point of vision. “May I offer you a hand, dear little street mouse?” the gentleman in the white suit asked, his other hand casually holding a cane as he smiled under his top hat.
“You may,” she muttered, taking it as he pulled her onto her feet. “Well, quite satisfying to see a gentleman act like his title for once.”
“Such a rare thing, sadly,” he replied with a nod, handing her a handkerchief to wipe mud off of her and pulling back when she declined with a wave of the hand. “Unlike you… a lady refusing friendly gestures from such gentleman.”
“I wasn’t refusing, I’m fine!” she huffed, wiping her muddied hands on her coat and paused at the smirk he was giving her, dangling the handkerchief in his fingers. She snatched it from him and wiped her hands. “Oh don’t you stare and judge me… pompous upper classman like you wandering out here for a reason to feel better about your high class life! I don’t need that now!” She turned to grab her fallen bag of food, finding them to be gone from where they landed and instead nestled in his arm. “Give them to me please.”
“I will under one request,” he grinned. “A name in return for your dinner, if you please.”
Her patience was wearing thin again. “And what use do you have with that?” He merely shrugged, the same smile plastered on his face. “Alice Liddell.” She held out her hand stiffly, mainly to demand him for her food back rather than to offer a friendly handshake. He did take her hand but flinched when he brought it up and placed a sweet kiss under her wrist. Sensing her shock that would soon turn to frustration, he placed the handle of the bag into her hand, tipped his large hat to her and walked off, whistling to himself. “Hmph… strange man… polite yet confusing… seems familiar though,” she murmured to herself as she hugged the bag to her chest. “I must have met him before… he was probably uglier then.” She sighed, turned and walked off, ignoring the tingling feeling the kiss left on her skin.
“WOMAN!!! WHAT DID YOU DO!?!” Diana smirked from behind her cup of coffee and placed it on the table to see the BLU Soldier run in, clutching the “not stolen” Frankenturret in both hands and glared at her from under his helmet. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MR. WIGGLES!?! AND WHY ARE YOU IN MY KITCHEN!?!”
“What? I think Madame Sugar Cube is adorable,” she cooed softly. The robot twitched and purred in confusion, a sunhat on each head, one yellow and one violet, a pink ribbon wrapped around the box like a present, a bowtie around each body and the worst part, makeup being used to paint blush, eye shadow and eyelashes on each face. “Aw, that could be our next Christmas card!”
“DOES HE LOOK LIKE A DRESSUP DOLL, WOMAN!?!” he screamed, putting the robot down to grab her shoulders. “THIS IS A FIGHTING ROBOT I WILL TRAIN TO KILL COMMUNIST RUSSIANS UP IN SPACE AND THIS IS WHAT YOU DO TO HIM!?!” They both glanced down to see the little thing staring at them, whimpering as one of the hats flopping down over one of its eyes and tried to push it off with its talon. “SEE, HE HATES IT!!! THIS IS WHY THEY DON’T LET WOMEN IN THE ARMY, YOU STUPID FEMALE!!! HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO A FIGHTING MACHINE LIKE HIM!?! HUH?!! ANSWER ME DAMN IT!!!”
She didn’t flinch at all during the screams, keeping that simple, sweet smile on her face. She waiting until he was done panting and loosened his grip on her shoulders before getting on her tiptoes to place a small kiss on his cheek. He stiffened rigidly as she stepped back, his face red and helmet sliding back to reveal his wide, shocked eyes. “Well…” the female Spy purred, tiptoeing her fingers along his arm to his shoulder. “I think our baby looks pretty.”
“DAMN IT!!! HE’S NOT A LADY AND HE’S NOT OUR BABY!!! AND I’M NOT MARRYING YOU!!!”
“You say that now… I will wait until your mind changes.”
“GET OUTTA MY HOUSE!!!”
“Oh hush, you’re upsetting the baby.” The robot just stared and twittered, clicking its little talons on the floor nervously to see Mommy and Daddy fighting again.
It was still a question on what Pyro was. On the battlefield, the masked being ran around burning anything that moved and laughing hysterically to watch the death toll rise higher and higher while scaring the rest of the team. After the battle, Pyro’s door was always closed with the mysterious being inside. No one knew what went on in there, or what it even looked like inside. Some thought it was full of jars with body parts inside, stacked up to the ceiling and crammed into bookshelves. Others thought it was a dark, messy room where all the weapons were made. Only one person knew what was in there. He was the only one that went inside and never told anyone who asked or begged what went on in there. It made things even scarier. What was going on in there…?
“Thanks!” Engineer said cheerfully, holding his cup out as Pyro poured him more tea. With his help, the walls were pained a nice light blue with purple, lime green, white and doe brown polka dots and fixed a canopy over the bed. He lent paint to let Pyro draw on the dresser and bookshelf, mostly covered in flowers and butterflies, and even helped put up Disney posters and shelves to hold the collection of stuffed animals. He smiled as Pyro let out muffled giggles, thankful the mask hid a blush from him. Pyro trusted him very much to keep the secrets within the room hidden from everyone else. He enjoyed spending time with Pyro, mostly watching movies, talking or having little adorable moments like this. Unbeknownst to Pyro, he treasured every second of it.
“Ah damn it, I need to get going!” he groaned, seeing the time on the Felix the Cat clock. “Sorry dear, gotta finish up the projects I was working on… have a deadline to meet.” Pyro wasn’t the least bit upset or disappointed, knowing he’d come back soon. “All right, I’ll try to hurry back.” He stood up, took the flowered hat off to place a kiss on the startled Pyro’s forehead. “See ya soon, doll.” He grinned as Pyro squealed and squirmed in flustered embarrassment, leaving the room quietly and sighing. Such a shame the poor girl was so badly burnt from the suit and the battles… can’t ever go outside without being taunted or stared at in disgust or shock. Maybe if he got back, she’d give into his pleas and take it off so he could give her forehead a real kiss. Crossing his fingers, he hoped so.
One of the worst kinds of headache is a painful combination of the lack of sleep and increase of unneeded stress. She had nothing to complain about her job. She had respect for her boss (though never said if she actually liked her or not) and was fit for the kind of job she was given, in a cheerful yet serious way. He however, could not.
She came to collect the papers he filled to file in the system and saw the condition he was in. She crept in to not disturb the poor doctor as he rubbed his temples while hunched over his desk, groaning softly to himself. “Hard day?” she asked, trying to slide the papers off of his desk and attach to her clipboard. The look he gave her said it all. “Your vacation is coming soon… just sleep for three whole days and spend the rest of your break just… well, relaxing! Play some golf, drink some beer…” He only nodded slowly, listening but just couldn’t talk to her. Having men scream for his help daily for the stupidest things and not getting any rest from it would make anyone frustrated. Poor thing…
She paused for a moment, some sympathy flickering in her heart and sighed. Placing the papers down on the desk gently to catch his attention and raise his head, she held his head gently in both hands and nudged him gently to have him tilt his head down to place a small kiss on his forehead, ignoring the small shiver that ran across his skin. He opened one eye to watch her, drowsily confused, then closing it when she placed a tender kiss on his eyelids. She released his face and stood back, smirking slightly at the dazed look on his red face. “How about I drive you home?” she suggested lightly with a small shrug. “Call me when you wake up.” He nodded as she helped him stand up and guided him to the car.
“Call you to check on me?” he finally asked once she buckled him in the passenger seat. “I’m not a child, Miss Pauling, though I thank you for the concern. I’d really just like some peace and quiet.”
“It’s not mainly to check up on you.” He stared at her as she started the car, eyebrow up again. “Glass of wine in front of the fire with some music is a nice way to relax, doctor.”
“Do you have any suggestions for music I can sample?” he asked with a small smile.
It was a surprise when her thoughts went back to when she was at the facility. Things here were different now. She had better food, comfortable clothes, a nice soft bed, no restraints, no testing… and she wasn’t alone anymore.
He wasn’t like most guys. He was clumsy, hardly thinks before he speaks, tries too hard, was scrawny, weak, looked like a complete science nerd (working at the facility she used to live in didn’t help make him look a little bit toucger) and constantly gets into messes he should never get into. But he was kind, generous, always made her smile and happy, had brilliant and far off ideas and-.
Her thoughts broke when something brushed against her forehead, opening her eyes to see him smiling at her. “Penny for your thought?” Wheatley asked, resting his forehead on hers after taking his glasses off. She smiled back as his face fell. “W-well, unless you don’t have one, th-then it’s fine. I actually don’t want any of your money right now o-or ever because th-that’s not something I would d-do unless I REALLY needed it.” She shook her head and leaned close, rubbing her nose gently against his to make him stop, blush and giggle stupidly at the soft, playful feeling. “Aw w-well… hee, th-that was really nice of you… w-wait, do it again.” She grinned and pushed him gently onto the couch, climbing on top of him and nuzzling his nose sweetly to make him squirm and grin happily. No, he wasn’t like most guys… he was better.
“AND MAYBE IF YOU KEPT YOUR BLOODY DAMN MACHINES AWAY FROM MY POST, MAYBE THOSE BLOODY DAMN SPIES WOULDN’T COME OVER TO SAP THEM AND KILL ME EVERY DAMN BATTLE!!!” Engineer rolled his eyes as the Sniper screamed at him. Always the same thing… he only put the sentries there to protect him from Spies, how was he to know what would happen? Though it was damn adorable to see him get angry (which happened a lot) it didn’t help when he chuckled at the sight plus the thoughts running through his head. It only made the Sniper more enraged. He’s going to wake the dead if he keeps this up and tear the inside of his throat to shreds. “WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY ABOUT THAT!?!”
The Engineer hesitated, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he grinned at the panting, red-faced Sniper. He was a bold kind of man and he did have an idea. As the silence grew to the point he was looking ready to scream again, he grabbed the collar of the Sniper’s vest, yanked him forward and covered his mouth with his own before any angry words could burst out. Feeling him tense violently made him grin wider, keeping a hand on the back of his neck so he wouldn’t pull away. “Try asking nicely next time and I’ll oblige,” he purred into his mouth and slowly let him go, turning to see the Spy staring and gawking at the entire sight. “I wasn’t kissing him. I was whispering into his mouth.” He shrugged, patted the still startled man on the cheek and walked off.
“I THOUGHT WHAT WE HAD WAS SPECIAL!!!” Spy wailed, making the Texan burst out laughing as he strode down the hallway.