large donut

just the idea of dan floating in a pool, being sleepy and getting the rest he needs in a large frosted donut shaped floatie is enough to make me tear up. and here we are… in a world, living it, seeing it

Highway (Part 9)

Originally posted by winter-barnes

Summary: There’s a charming man that enters the diner like he owns the place, like he owns the town. And when he’s calling you baby doll, with a devilish smirk on his face and a twinkle of silver in his baby blues, you know you won’t be able to stop yourself from falling for the infamous Bucky Barnes.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Wordcount: 2,908

Part 1  / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 (COMING SOON)

Masterlist


When Wanda Maximoff came knocking on your front door, the sun had just about reached its highest point in the baby blue sky. The brunette had rushed herself right out of bed just to come at noon, just like she promised she would, because there was something you weren’t telling her and what Wanda wanted to know, Wanda would eventually know.

And this was a fact that you knew all too well; it was an obvious trait in your good friend that was clear to absolutely everyone that was close to her. She was a gossip monger with no boundaries, but you’d grown to accept and love that about her.

So, at precisely noon, when the knocking at your door burst through your invasive thoughts, you lowered the volume on your television and rushed over to the front door, knowing that your good friend would simply knock incessantly until her knuckles bled. When you opened the door, Wanda grinned in relief and lifted a rectangular pink box.

“I brought donuts,” She chirped as she stepped over the threshold of your front door and onto the hardwood floors of your quaint home. She kicked her shoes off and shoved them next to yours before she rushed into the living room and placed the box on the center table. Wanda made herself right at home.

“Lemme go get some napkins,” You spoke with a chuckle, the smell of the fresh donuts filling your nostrils and the area that Wanda resided in. She smiled at you and nodded when you disappeared into the kitchen for a few moments to grab a few napkins. You’ve seen Wanda eat mountains upon mountains of glazed donuts before, and where the breakfast foods were involved, she was a pig.

When you returned to the living room, you plopped yourself down betwixt your friend and the arm of the small couch. You get a few seconds to raise the volume of the comedy show that was playing before Wanda spoke.

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Cinnamon and Sugar - Dick Grayson x Reader

So this is totally a self indulgent fic that I am calling an early birthday gift to myself, and I want to thank @princessnightwing for sending me the apple orchard idea because I loved it so much

Tagging: @memento-scribet @aworldwideapart @epickimmie @cutekittybast @just-a-girl-maybe

Words: 1082


The crisp October air leaves a chill on your skin that energizes you to the core, and the muffled crunch of leaves beneath your shoes only adds to the excitement.

It’s finally fall.

And you are in the best company you could ever ask for.

Dick had gotten extremely excited to hear about this quaint little apple orchard nestled in the countryside just a couple of hours outside Blüdhaven (one of the side effects of hating paperwork was sharing stories at the local Blüdhaven Police Department coffee pot), and he suggested taking a weekend trip together as a sort of romantic getaway, to which you quickly agreed.

Dick takes your hand as he leads the way toward a rough wooden table with rustic fall decorations set up neatly in front of the orchard’s farmhouse. A gentle older man with a straw hat and a warm smile stands at the table distributing hot cider to guests while a younger woman rushes out to the table carrying a large box of fresh donuts. The smell of warm cinnamon and fried sugar makes you melt, and you lean in closer to Dick as you wait your turn at the table.

The old man smiles when you and Dick stop in front of the table. “What can I get for such a pretty young couple?”

“Can we get two ciders and two donuts, please?” Dick says, and the old man nods before pouring your hot drinks in foam cups before dropping a cinnamon stick in each one.

“Is this cider made with the apples from your orchard?” you ask when you take a sip. It’s not like any cider you’ve ever had before; it tastes crisp and fresh.

“Yes ma’am, it is! My wife and I have worked this orchard for fifty years, and every year we make cider in the hopes that it will warm hearts and bring young folks like you and this young man together, just like it did us.” His eyes light up at the mention of his wife, and it absolutely melts your heart.

“That’s so sweet!” you say, and Dick wraps his free arm around your shoulder and holds you closer to him. “It tastes wonderful! Your hard work has surely paid off!”

“The real payment is seeing the smiles on your faces, young miss. And seeing the way your beau looks at you.” You glance up at a smiling Dick with a blush, and the old man chuckles before handing you both a cinnamon sugar coated donut.

“Thank you,” Dick takes the confections from the old man and takes out his wallet to pay for the snacks when the old man stops him.

“There’s no need for that, young man. Your treats are on the house.” When you and Dick try to object the old man shakes his head. “No, it’s my treat. It warms my heart to see a young couple as in love as you two—reminds me of me and my wife many years ago. I know she’d love to see a young couple like you if she were still with us. Please. It’s our treat.”

The old man’s words touch you in a way you can’t explain, and you and Dick finally give in and thank him once again before leaving the table, free treats in hand.

“The next hayride around the orchard starts in twenty minutes!” the old man’s eyes crinkle when he smiles and waves after you and Dick, and you both wave another thank you at him before continuing on your short walk until it’s time for the hayride.

The donuts taste phenomenal—fried to crisp golden perfection on the outside yet still soft and sweet within, and the cinnamon sugar is beautifully complimented by the warm cider. It’s a comforting combination that warms your soul and makes you so incredibly happy to be here with Dick right now.

Even when you finish your donuts you continue walking around the orchard paths admiring the fiery hues of the trees. The sunlight shines on the trees and makes the leaves appear even brighter than they would normally be, and the warm tones cause Dick’s blue eyes to shine more than usual. You walk for a few minutes talking about everything and nothing, smiling constantly and laughing every now and then.

Everything with Dick feels right.

Dick feels like home.

Eventually you stop next to an old wrought iron archway entrance to the orchard where the next hayride should stop to pick you up. You laugh at something Dick had just said when a gust of wind blows your hair in your face, and you start batting it away so you can see.

Another hand intercepts yours as Dick brushes the last of your stray hairs behind your ear, and you look at him with a smile. He looks at you with a sudden serious, soft gaze, his eyes pulling you down so deep and fast you almost forget to breathe.

You stand there staring at each other for what is probably only a few seconds, but it feels like minutes.

“Y/N. You know I love you, right?” He speaks without breaking eye contact.

You furrow your brow at his sudden question. “Of course, Dick. Why would you think—”

Before you can finish the question Dick grabs your scarf and pulls you quickly but softly toward him until your lips collide. You don’t hesitate to melt into his kiss, and the only thing sweeter than the cinnamon sugar on his lips is his love for you and your love for him.

He places one hand on your waist and one on your cheek to push your hair back, and your hands make their way to his chest. Dick reluctantly pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, staring into your eyes as the sunlight illuminates them.

“I just wanted to make sure.” Dick’s voice is low, and you wrap your arms around his neck when both his hands find your waist. “I love you more than anything in this world, Y/N. I’m afraid I don’t tell you enough.”

“You don’t have to, Dick. I know,” you smile up at him. “And I love you, too. With all my heart.”

He kisses you again, and you can’t help but think that this is perfection, standing here with the man you love while the sun and trees set the hillside aflame with bright reds and yellows, cider in your heart and love in your soul.

BLACK HOLES WITH RAVENOUS APPETITES DEFINE TYPE I ACTIVE GALAXIES

** Synopsis: New research suggests that the central black holes in Type I and Type II active galaxies consume matter at different rates, upending popular theory. **

For decades, astronomers have tried to pin down why two of the most common types of active galaxies, known as Type I and Type II galaxies, appear different when observed from Earth. Although both galaxy types host voracious supermassive black holes known as active galactic nuclei, which actively swallow matter and emit massive amounts of radiation, Type I galaxies appear brighter to astronomers’ telescopes.

New research from an international team of astronomers, with contributions from the University of Maryland, makes a major modification to a popular theory called the unified model. According to this model, the active nuclei of Type I and Type II galaxies have the same fundamental structure and energetic profile, but appear different solely because the galaxies point toward Earth at different angles. Specifically, Type II galaxies are tilted such that they are obscured by their own rings of dust, making Type I galaxies appear brighter by comparison.

The new results, published September 28, 2017, in the journal Nature, suggest that Type I and Type II galaxies do not just appear different – they are, in fact, very different from each other, both structurally and energetically. The key factor that distinguishes Type I and Type II galaxies is the rate at which their central black holes consume matter and spit out energy, according to the researchers.

“The unified model has been the prevailing wisdom for years. However, this idea does not fully explain the differences we observe in galaxies’ spectral fingerprints, and many have searched for an additional parameter that fills in the gaps,” said Richard Mushotzky, a professor of astronomy at UMD and a co-author of the study. “Our new analysis of X-ray data from NASA’s Swift Burst Alert Telescope suggests that Type I galaxies are much more efficient at emitting energy.”

To conduct the study, Mushotzky and his colleagues re-examined data from 836 active galaxies detected by NASA’s Swift Burst Alert Telescope that strongly emit high-energy, or “hard,” X-rays – the same X-rays that medical technicians use to visualize the human skeleton.

To measure the mass and growth rate of these galaxies’ active nuclei – the supermassive black holes at the galaxies’ centers – the researchers used data from 12 different ground-based telescopes spread across the globe to complement the data from the Swift satellite.

“This project began in 2009, as part of my doctoral work at UMD, and has radically grown with the help of more than 40 researchers across the globe,” said Michael Koss (M.S. ‘07, Ph.D. ‘11, astronomy), a research scientist at Eureka Scientific, Inc. and a co-author of the paper. “When I started out, I spent a month of lonely nights by myself at the Kitt Peak National Observatory observing a few dozen galaxies. I never dreamed we would eventually expand to such a large sample, enabling us to answer many amazing scientific questions for the first time.”

By comparing differences in the X-ray spectra between Type I and Type II galaxies, the researchers concluded that, regardless of which way the galaxy faces Earth, the central black holes in Type I galaxies consume matter and emit energy much faster compared with the black holes at the center of Type II galaxies.

“Our results suggest this has a lot to do with the amount of dust that sits close to the central black hole,” said Mushotzky, who is also a fellow of the Joint Space-Science Institute. “Type II galaxies have a lot more dust close to the black hole, and this dust pushes against the gas as it enters the black hole.”

For decades, astronomers preferentially studied Type II galaxies, largely because the active nuclei of Type I galaxies are very bright, making it difficult to see the stars and gas clouds that constitute the rest of the galaxy. Because the unified model suggested that all active galaxies were fundamentally the same, astronomers focused their efforts on the galaxies that host Type II active nuclei because they are easier to observe.

“But now, because our results suggest that the two types of galaxies are indeed fundamentally different, it is likely that a lot of researchers will re-evaluate their data and take another look at Type I galaxies,” Mushotzky said. “By putting us on a path to better understand the differences between the galaxies that host Type I and Type II active nuclei, this work will help us better understand how supermassive black holes influence the evolution of their host galaxies.”


IMAGE….Many active galactic nuclei are surrounded by large, dark, donut-shaped clouds of gas and dust, as seen in this artist’s rendering. A popular theory known as the “unified theory” suggests that differences in the brightness of active galactic nuclei, as seen from here on Earth, are due to the placement of this donut of obscuring dust relative to our angle of observation. However, new research suggests that two of the most common types of active galactic nuclei do, in fact, exhibit fundamental physical differences in the way they consume matter and spit out energy. Credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech

#89 - “I swear, I sometimes think you love this game more than you love me.”

Jungkook x You

Word Count: 352

Originally posted by theking-or-thekid

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Could be heard faintly but your mind was so focused on the smartphone in front of you. Your finger was tapping all over the screen as you played with each kitty that entered your humble abode. You had just expanded the space and were able to get all new toys for the kittens. It made you rather excited, that you had finally saved up enough fish to get the large donut as Spotty seemed to love the small ones and now you were sure he was going to visit more often.

Tap-tap.

Tap-tap-tap.

Tap-tap-tap-tap.

The noise was growing louder and in a greater succession but lost in the euphoria of purchasing a cute pink and white warm sock it was tuned out as well. A loud sigh followed the tapping that wasn’t stopping.

“I swear, I sometimes think you love this game more than you love me.”

Your ears registered the noise however comprehending what was being said to you took a minute or so. Much too delayed for someone who should have been paying attention when their boyfriend was talking to them. Raising your eyes up just under your lashes to look at the tall, dark and handsome man in front of you, you smiled impishly.

“You’ve always been a smart Kookie.”

Looking back down at your game, you bought a few more items and laughed silently as you heard him scoff in annoyance. It didn’t surprise you when a hand reached out in front of you to steal your phone. Pulling it away you slipped it into your back pocket. Standing up you from the dining room table, you leaned against the corner next to Jungkook.

“If you miss me that much, just say so.”

Leaning down you kissed him on the forehead before walking to the bedroom to go find your flip flops and grab your keys from the dresser. Calling from the bedroom, you didn’t hesitate in your motions,

“Going for a drive, wanna come?”

Hearing the chair scrape against the tiled floor you smiled softly to yourself. Sometimes he really was such a child.

Summer Plans (Riarkle Future One-Shot)

Fandom: Girl Meets World

Pairing(s): Riarkle (Main), Corpanga, Stuart x Jennifer, Joshaya (hinting), Zaydora (Cuz, like, why not, honestly?)

Characters: (Main) Riley Matthews and Farkle Minkus, (Supporting) Cory Matthews, Topanga Lawerence-Matthews, Stuart Minkus, Jennifer Bassett-Minkus (Minor/Mentioned) Maya Hart-Hunter, Shawn Hunter, Katy Hunter, Will Hunter(OC), Lucas Friar, Zay Babineaux, Auggie Matthews, Ava Morgenstern, Josh Matthews, Eric Matthews, Morgan Matthews, Amy Matthews, Alan Matthews, and Isadora Smackle

Rating: T

Description: Riley and Farkle are engaged and it’s great… It is! It’s just maybe, a little, not-great that they’re families still don’t know? But summer is here and everyone is getting together; the news has to come out one way or another.

Author’s Note: So, technically, this one-shot is a part of my canon future Riarkle one-shot collection. If you want, read the other pieces in that collection, if not… Engaged Riarkle is still always cute, am I right?


“Daddy, it’s only been a week!” Riley Matthews exclaimed over the phone, looking across the kitchen to Farkle with an exasperated expression. “Yes, I’m sure we met for lunch last week.” She paused before her eyes widened, “No, no, I am excited to see you tomorrow! I’m just saying it’s not been that long.”

Farkle laughed as he listened in, moving over to start cutting peppers.

The brunette glared and quickly flipped him the bird before resting her hand over the receiver. Cory Matthews’ rambling could just barely be heard as his daughter mouthed, ‘Kill me now!’ and only made the young genius laugh harder.

“Daddy, I got to go!” Riley finally exclaimed, throwing her hand up. “Yeah, dinner’s almost ready so I will see you, and everyone else, tomorrow. Yes, I promise. I love you, too. Okay, bye, Daddy. Bye. Sleep well, too? Uh, yes, now goodnight, Dad!”

She pulled the phone back, crushing the ‘end’ button.

“Nice chat?” Farkle asked, tipping the cutting board into a pan to begin cooking.

The girl just groaned and tossed the phone aside. Riley then moved across the kitchen, wrapping her arms around the boy’s waist and laying her head against his shoulder blades. “Can we just run away? I don’t wanna go tomorrow.”

“You don’t want to see Maya?” Farkle asked, frying the peppers and glancing over at the cooking rice.

Riley scrunched up her face in his t-shirt, “Maya already knows!”

…That Farkle and Riley were engaged.

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AU!Small Town Charm

Title: Small Town Charm

Pairing: Dean x Female!Reader

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 4267

Requested: No

Summary: The moment Reader turned 18, she packed her bags and moved a couple of towns over. After years of blowing off Christmases and Thanksgivings, Reader is forced to attend her grandfather’s birthday back in her hometown. However, when her car breaks down, she calls her mother and informs of the unfortunate situation. Her mother, headstrong, transfers the party to Reader’s town. And when she hears a certain Winchester over the phone, she assumes its Reader’s boyfriend. Now, horrified and confused, Reader hires Dean to be her boyfriend for the weekend.

Part: 1/?

Next Parts: Part Two, Part Three

A/N: A new series! I really hope you like this one. I have no idea how many parts this is going be, but my goal is six. This is just how I imagine Dean if he grew up in a small town and wasn’t a hunter. Also, I’m taking requests, so please send me some things you’d like to see. I hope you enjoy it!

Originally posted by bringmesomepie56

Reader

“Meg, I need those pancakes!” you called from your place behind the counter.

Meg popped her head through the wide window that connected the kitchen with the dining area. “You’ll get them when you get them!” she barked before turning back to the kitchen.

You rolled your eyes, picking up the coffee pot. “Hey Cas,” you smiled. “Coffee?”

Cas nodded, grinning widely. “That would be great, (Y/N).”

Pouring him a cup of coffee, you asked, “How are things at the inn?”

“Heavenly.” he answered, looking up from his menu.

“Really? Naomi’s not giving you a hard time?”

Cas shook his head. “She got fired. Something about mistreating employees.”

“Good, she was a real bitch.”  You set the coffee pot down, and pulled out your notepad. “What can I get you?”

Shutting the menu, Cas replied, “Pancakes with scrambled eggs and a side of bacon.”

Quickly jotting down the order, you grabbed the pot and turned around. Behind the counter, you slid Cas’s order on the ledge of the kitchen window.   

“I gotta get to school.” You heard Kevin say as he walked around the counter. “Say hi to Bobby for me!” He called as he rushed to the back, pulling off his apron.  

“Will do.” you nodded as he came back out with his bag and jacket. “Good luck on your AP test!” you wished as he exited the diner.

He waved his hand behind his head, signaling he heard you as he walked to the high school a few blocks away.

You were about to continue your coffee rounds when Meg called, “Pancakes.” She placed the plate of hot pancakes and fruit on the silver edge of the open window.

You gave her a small smile, to which she returned with much sarcasm, and made your way to Crowley. “Pancakes.” you smiled.

He looked up from his newspaper. “About time,” he grumbled, putting down the paper and picking up a fork.

You ignored his comment. “Anything else I could get you?” you asked politely.

“If it arrives in this century,” he quipped. “I’ll have some more coffee.”

You mimicked Meg’s sarcastic smile, uttering, “Right away,”

As you walked behind the counter and grabbed the coffee pot again, the bells over the door chimed. “Bela,” you heard Crowley call. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about our agreement.”

You turned in time to watch Bela’s face drop. She shifted her gaze to the ground as Crowley invited her to sit with him. You grabbed another mug and made your way to his table. Setting down a cup in front of Bela, you poured her some coffee.

“On the house,” you muttered to her, knowing Crowley was about to take everything she ever owned.

She gave you a tight lipped, yet grateful smile before turning back to Crowley. “Looking sharp this morning,” she forced him a grin.

You quickly refilled Crowley’s cup and made your way behind the counter. Last thing you need, was to be in the middle of one of Crowley’s deals.

“Flattery gets you nowhere,” he replied. “I just wanted to ask you a few questions.”

Bela looked down at her coffee. “I don’t have your money Crowley,” she mumbled.

Crowley smirked. “When you wanted that house, you said you’d repay me in installment over the next ten years, did you not?”

Bela nodded. “Yes, but-”

“And, here we are, the tenth year.” he cut her off. “And you still don’t have my money.”

Bela looked up at him. “Look, I just need more time.” she mumbled noticing that heads were turning to witness Crowley’s wrath unleash on her.

Just then, Jody entered. She took one look at Crowley and Bela, then - with wide eyes - made her way to the counter. “A dozen donuts please and a coffee to go.” she said lowly. Even the police officer was afraid of the looming consequences of Bela’s deal.

Without a word, you quickly unfolded a large donut box, and began placing in a dozen donuts. After shutting it, you grab a disposable to go cup, and poured some coffee into it before handing it to Jody. “7.59” you muttered after pressing several buttons on the register.

Jody pulled out her wallet from her coat pocket, and gave you a ten. “Keep the change.” she smiled. “And say hi to Bobby for me, will you?”

Nodding, you mumbled, “Sure,” and she was out the door.

You turned your attention back to Crowley. After Bela’s plea for more time, he remain quiet for a while. Slowly, very slowly, an arrogant grin tugged on his lips. “I’m sorry have you mistaking me for the caring, considering type of business man?” he snarled. “You entered a pun shop, you had nothing to offer but you wanted a house. What did I do? I got you a house, and let you repay me over the course of ten years. I think that’s enough time.”

His loud words silenced the restaurant. You sighed, shaking your head.

“Yes, but-” Bela tried again, but Crowley silenced her once more.

“You better pack,” he lowered his voice slightly as he continued. “Because that pretty little house of yours, is now mine. I expect it to be empty when I move in tomorrow.”

Bela’s eyes glassed over. “No, I have nowhere to go!” she whisper-yelled.

Crowley began cutting up his syrup drenched pancakes and eating. “Better figure that out soon.” he said, mimicking her tone of voice.

Reluctantly, an embarrassed and confused Bela stood from her seat, and left. Crowley joyfully turned back to his food.

“French toast and eggs!” Meg called, leaving the plate out for you to serve. “And waffles and bacon.” she said putting out the other plate

You let out a small sigh, and turned to the plates. As you made your way to Ellen and Jo, Bobby emerged from the makeshift office-apartment over the diner.

“How are things?” he asked as you handed the plates to the two girls.

“Great,” you quickly replied to him before turning back to your customers. “Anything else I can get you?”

“That’s all, Hun,” Ellen smiled. “Thank you.”

You gave them one last smile before making your way to Bobby. He was pouring himself a cup of coffee as you grabbed the rag from the pocket of your apron and began wiping down the counter.

“Crowley only made one person cry, and Kevin and Jody say hi.” you finished your thought as you cleared away the empty plates on the counter.

“Well it’s only nine, so don’t get your hopes up.” Bobby replied, taking a large gulp from his coffee.

You let out a laugh. “You know I can hear you.” Crowley informed, not tearing his eyes away from his food.

“You know I don’t care.” Bobby retorted, setting down his coffee mug.

You let out another fit of laughter as you picked up the bust bin. Bobby quickly took the bin out of your hands. “I got this.” he smiled. “Why don’t you make some more coffee?”

You smiled and nodded. “Thanks,” He returned the smile before entering the kitchen.

The bell chimed once again. Looking up from the counter after one final wipe down, you found Dean walking in avoiding Jo’s eye. He took a seat at the counter as he rubbed his reddened cheek with one hand.

“What happened to you?” you asked, taking out a mug from under the counter and pouring in the last bit of coffee.

After a long gulp, he answered, “Got caught.”

You rolled your eyes. You should’ve known that would be the answer. Dean was notorious for dating one girl and sleeping with another. “Of course you did.”

“Order up,” Meg called. You turned, and grabbed Cas’s order.

As you made your way to him, Dean shouted over his shoulder, “I’ll take one of those.”

You placed the plate in front of Cas, then made your way back behind the counter. “Coming right up.” you murmured jotting down the same order, and - knowing Dean - adding extra bacon.

You gave the order to Meg, then began refilling the fresh filter with grinded coffee beans. As you poured water into the maker, the wall phone rang. You finished pouring the water and started the maker before answering the phone.

“This is Bobby’s.” you greeted, holding the phone with your shoulder as you pulled your notepad and pen from the pocket of your apron.

“(Y/N)?” a high pitched, familiar voice asked.

You gulped, throwing the pen and notepad back in your pocket and transferring the phone to your hand. “Mom.” you managed to reply in a steady voice.

“What kind of greeting was that? Identify yourself next time! People need to know who they are talking to.” she immediately criticized.

You narrowed your eyes in confusion. “Mom you called me, so you must’ve know who would answer.” you tried to reason.

“No, I call Gilbert’s.” she attempted to correct.

You let out a dry laugh. “His name is Bobby. How did you get Gilbert from Bobby? They don’t even sound the same.”

“I don’t have time for this, (Y/N).” she suddenly snapped. “Look, the whole family is coming over for the weekend to celebrate your grandfather’s birthday and since you’re part of the family-”

“Unfortunately.” you muttered, slightly cutting her off.

Your mother continued, dismissing your comments “you are obligated to come. Everyone is coming in tomorrow. I expect to see you there.”

You scoffed. “Mom, I have work. I can’t just drop everything and come running.” you stated.

“(Y/N) (M/N) (L/N)!” she shouted.

Fuck. You thought. She just full named me.

“You are coming. I don’t care if it interferes with your savage plans.” she demanded.

“Savage?” you questioned. “I’m working! How is that savage?”

You heard her sigh heavily. “I don’t have time to get into this right now. I’ll see you tomorrow.” and with that, she hung up.

You stared at the phone, stunned and confused. Hanging up, Crowley came to the register. “Family?” he asked.

“My mother.” you muttered, calculating his older.

Crowley let out a groan. “My condolences.” he said, paying in exact change. Of course, he’d never leave a tip.

And as he left, you made your way to his table, and cleared it off.

The bell chimed, letting you know another customer as entered. You looked up, holding Crowley’s dirty dishes, and found Sam. He offered you a quick tight lipped smile, then made his way to his brother.

Looking between the two, you were always baffled about their ability to be polar opposites. One was a lawyer dressing in a clean cut suit everyday, and the other was a mechanic who was always covered in oil stains and dirt.

You put the dishes in an empty bin under the counter as Sam said, “What’s so important?”

“Mom’s coming in from Kansas.” Dean grumbled before taking his last sip of coffee.

Refilling his cup, Sam looked down at the counter. With his eyebrows furrowed and puppy dog eyes out, he mumbled, “Did she say when?”

Dean shrugged. “All I know is that she’s coming.”

“Order up,” Meg shouted, pulling your nosy ass out of their conversation.

You grabbed the plate, and put in in front of Dean. “Extra bacon?” he asked, almost sounding surprised.

You nodded. “Isn’t that what you always order?”

Dean cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah,”

You dismissed his shortness, knowing he was having a pretty rough morning and turned to Sam. “Anything I could get you?”

“Just a coffee to go please.” he forced a smile, clearly still trying to process the news.

You returned it. As you poured the coffee into the cup, Bobby emerged from the kitchen.

“What happened to your face?” he asked, looking to Dean.

Dean glared at him as he swallowed the food in his mouth. “Ask Jo.” he snapped then proceeded to roughly cut up his pancakes.

Bobby looked between the blond girl sitting near the window, and the moody guy hunched over the counter. Then, under his breath, he grumbled, “Idjits,”

After flipping the last chair, and resting it on the table, you made your way behind the counter where Bobby was handing the cash. “Alright, well that’s the last chair.” you sighed, untying your apron and hanging it in the back. Walking back out to Bobby, you took a deep breath then said, “Um, so my mother called this morning.”

Bobby looked up from the money in his hands, and gave you a careful look. “The one you ran away from?”

“Is there another one I mentioned?” you asked.

Bobby shrugging, going back to his counting. “Well, there’s the witch, the devil, the wicked, the-”

You cut him off. “Okay, I get it.”

“What did she want?” he asked.

You looked down at her shoes as you picked at your black chipped nail polish. “Um,” you mumbled. “There’s this thing with my family, and they’re all coming and so she wants me there too. Anyway, it’s tomorrow morning, and it’s gonna last the whole weekend. So, was wondering if maybe I could just get a couple of days off and put myself in the worst possible torture known to man.” you rambled with your eyebrows furrowed and voiced cracked with anxiety.

Bobby set the cash down and turned to look at you. He sighed offering you a tight lipped smile. “Well, as long as it’s torturous.” he joked breaking into a full on smile.

You let out a sigh of relief as you chuckled along with him. “Thank you so much. I promise I won’t enjoy it one bit.”

He nodded as he made his way over to you and pulled you into a fatherly hug. You returned the embrace, letting your head rest on his chest. “Drive safe.” he murmured against your hair. “Call when you get in, okay?”

You nodded, faintly agreeing. Pulling away from Bobby, you gave him one last smile, and he tossed you one last good luck, then you were on your way back to your house. And though you had a car, thanks to Bobby, you decided not to take it that morning and walk to work. Besides, it wasn’t that far, possibly a ten minute walk if you took the shortcut.

When you got home, you immediately crashed on the couch. Your back ached and your feet were sore. But, you were thankful for the fact that you had a place to find comfort in when your body was in such pain.

You lazily let your head fall to the right, your burning eyes only just opened. And through the tiny slits of your eyes, you could just make out the black digits on the clock.

12:10 AM

You groaned, trying to calculate how much time you had before you had to hit the road. You were confident that packing was going to take about two hours since your mother had specific expectations on what to bring. And, you knew that she’d want you there at around six to give the impression that you were there the whole time, and that they were the perfect family. Also, the car ride was about three hour long. So, that meant you could spare about an hour to sleep.

However, you did have to shower and look presentable. So, that added another one hour; the hour that was spared for sleep.

You let out another loud groan, letting your face fall into a pillow. After another scream or two, you removed your face from the pillow and made your way upstairs to your room. You got changed into something more comfortable, and began packing for the reunion from hell.  

To say you were basically in tears when you finally had your two fully packed duffel bags, would be quite accurate. You picked them up, and threw them beside the front door, ready to be transferred to the car.

You ran back upstairs and hopped into the shower. Once done, you quickly got dressed in a light blue sweater, a tight black skirt, some sheer tights, and long black socks that stopped just below your knees. You dried your hair thoroughly, and pulled it back into a high ponytail. You glanced at the clock as you began to apply just bit of makeup to satisfy your mother. In your mind, the less you got yelled at, the better.

The clock read 3:15 AM

You were right on schedule. After finishing your makeup, you rushed downstairs and prepared some coffee. If you were going to be driving for the next three hours, you needed your energy. As the coffee brewed, you pulled on your long black boots, and grey jacket. You made your way back to the kitchen and poured the coffee into a to go cup. Holding the cup with your mouth, you wrapped a soft, black scarf around your neck and tucked your hands in some warm gloves. You quickly grabbed your keys and bags, and made your way to your car.

After settling in, you started the car. It took a while, but it finally started idling. Ignoring it’s little spam attack, you backed out of your driveway, and drove down the snow covered, rumble streets and onto the main road.

Sker. Sker. Sker. Your car splurted as you drove by the diner. It kept stopping, then going. It continued to pause, until it reached the traffic light where it just shut down all together.

“Fuck!” you cursed, slamming your hands on the wheel. You took the key out of the ignition, then tried starting it again, however, it wouldn’t work.  

You sighed in defeat looking down the empty road. Then, it caught your eye.

Winchester Mechanics.

In an instant, you jumped out of your car, and ran down the icy road to the shop. And even though all the lights were turned off, you pounded your fist repeatedly on the door. “Dean! Dean!” you yelled.

The light of the foyer switched on after a few more shouts, and the door flew open. There, in his boxers, a t-shirt, and a pair of plain black slippers, was Dean. His hair was sticking up in all directions, and his face held a look of anger and distress. “Do you have a death wish?” he mumbled, his voice groggy with sleep.

“Dean, I need your help!” you yelled. “My crappy car broke down, and my mother is crazy, and if I’m not there by six she will definitely kill me.”

I’m about to kill you.” Dean replied.

You sighed and grabbed his arm, tugging on it. “Please, please, please, Dean!” you begged with each tugged. “I’ll give you free meals for a week, and coffee. Free meals and coffee for a week. Just please, please help me.”

Dean glared at you for a moment before deeply sighing. “Two weeks.” he bargained.

Smiling widely, you let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” she laughed, pulling him out of his home and towards the car.

Dean let out a few whoas, and stops as he ran through the ice covered road. When you made it to your car, you let go of him. “It won’t start.”

Dean sent you a deadly glare as you turned to face him. “What?” you asked.

“You couldn’t let me change, or at least grab my jacket?” he snapped, wrapping his arms around himself. And though he was mad and his front door remained wide open, he still made his way to the hood of your car and popped it open.

A cluster of smoke rose up immediately. Dean coughed, and took a step back as he waved it away. “Got a flashlight?” he asked, his voice rough from the heavy smoke.

Covering your mouth with your scarf to ward off the fumes, you handed him your phone with your flashlight turned on. “Here,” your muffled voice said.

Dean brought his shirt over his nose as he took the phone from your hands. He then, without any hesitation, reentered the thick mist and looked through it. After fiddling here and there, he exited the smoke with his eyes watery.

Bring down his shirt, he handed the phone back to you and let out a few coughs. “You aren’t going anywhere tonight.” he informed as he shut the hood.

You shoved your phone back into your pocket as you joked, “Dean, now is not the time to make a pass at me.”

Dean turned, and gave you another hard glare. “You’re car is busted. Half of it is basically duck tape! Did you just think it would hold everything forever?”

“It’s what I had at the time.” you defended. “Look, I have somewhere to be and if I’m not there my mother-”

“Is going to kill you.” Dean finished. “Yeah, I know. I heard the speech.”

You sighed taking a step closer to him. “Please, please, please, Dean!” you pleaded hold your hands together over your chest. “Just think about the twenty hour long lectures that will soon follow my death and carry on in my afterlife.”

“(Y/-” he started but you quickly cut him off, continuing your rant.

“Look, I won’t bother you in the afterlife! I’ll leave you alone. That’s if you believe in afterlives. I don’t really. Actually, I’m not sure which is real or what to believe. But, if there is an afterlife, I’ll leave you alone in it. And I’ll leave you alone in Hell too. Because, let’s face it, you’re kind of-”

Dean cut your rant short. “Finish that sentence, and you’ll make it to your afterlife sooner.” he threatened.

You let out another sigh. “So, there’s no way you can fix it in, say, five minutes?”

Dean, with a sad smile playing on his lips, shook his head. “I won’t even be able to fix it in two days.” he replied.

Hanging your head low, you groaned and pulled out your phone. “I have a call to make, you start pushing the car.”

Dean gave you a questioning look. “Pushing the car? (Y/N), I have a tru-”

You interjected with a stern look on your face. “Now, Dean!”

As he made his way to the back of the car, you heard him grumbling under his breath. Ignoring it, you dialed your old house phone.

It rang and rang and rang, until finally someone picked up. “Hello?” your mother’s tired voice answered.

“Hi, mom. I’m sorry to call this late. I was just on my way to the house when my car broke down. I can’t come. I’m so sorry.” your voice was nothing but sincere as you explained the details of the situation.

Your mother went quiet for a moment, and you were beginning to think she might have dosed back off to sleep. “You’re lying.” she finally replied.

“What?”

“You’re lying. Your car didn’t break down. You just don’t want to come.” she expanded. “I can’t believe you hate us so much, you won’t even come to your grandfather’s birthday!”

Your eyes widened at her far fetched assumption. “Mom, I swear! The car is a deadbeat! It won’t start!” you repeated, your voice rising with every word.

“How dare you?! You are the most ungrateful, self-centred per-”

Dean’s voice dragged your attention away from the daunting lecture. “A little help would be nice!” he called as he continued to slowly push the car down the road.

“Who was that?” your mother asked, cutting her speech short. Leave it to your mother to use her bat-like ears and pick out any ‘unusual’ sounds.

You sighed. “That was just Dean, mom.”

“Dean? Is this Dean your boyfriend?” she asked, suddenly all anger in her tone disappearing.

“What?”

“Well, he has to be. Why else would he be with you at four in the morning if he wasn’t?” she attempted to explain.

With confusion riddle all over your features, you frustratedly replied, “He’s a mechanic, mom! He’s just fixing my ca-”

“So, it’s just a coincidence that your boyfriend is also a mechanic?”

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you shouted, stomping your foot.

You could almost hear the smirk in your mother’s voice as she suggested, “Alright then. Why don’t was just move the party to that town of ours?”

“Do you even know what it’s called?” you challenged.

She scoffed. “Unnatural or something.”

“Supernatural.” you corrected. “And there’s not reason to move an entire party over here! Everyone is coming to your house.”

“I’ll tell them the location is changing right now. And so what if we start the party later, we’ll just extend it to Monday.” she brushed off.

This time you scoffed. “I have work on Monday!” you tired.

“You’ll be there for your shift! Stop trying to get out of this! You are going to this party! It’s been a long time since you even bothered to call, let alone show up for holidays. It’s time to take your place in this family!” she yelled so loud, you had to move the phone away from your ear.

Sighing in defeat, you brought the phone back to your ear and mumbled, “Fine,”

“Great, see you at noon. I expect the best reservations at the best hotel you can find!” she piped before throwing in a good night and hanging up.

You shoved your phone back into your pocket, and looked to Dean. He was about halfway from the store.

Your mother was coming. Your family was coming. And, Dean was suddenly your boyfriend. This was going to be an interesting weekend.

The Thing With the Donuts

Doctor!Dean/Gas-N-Sip!Cas AU. 1.9k. Fluff.  

4:30am, Wednesday. One coffee - black - two powdered donuts from the pastry display next to the register. Sea green scrubs.

His eyes are still bleary as he hands Castiel a ten dollar bill, but his smile is warm and genuine, a welcoming sight that washes out the sting of the weary truckers, and questionable late night customers Castiel’s been serving for the past three hours.

“Thanks.” The doctor says as Castiel offers him his change. Castiel nods. The doctor leaves.

Castiel watches him go. Longing in his chest.

4:38am, Thursday. He’s running late today. One large coffee, no donuts (though he looks at them wistfully as he pays for his drink). Grey scrubs that wash out his freckles. Castiel prefers the green scrubs from the day before.

“Gas on 2.” He tells Castiel, handing him a few twenties. He’s out the door with a rushed smile, and as the bell above the door jingles, a monotonous sound, Castiel thinks perhaps someday he’ll actually say something back.

4:28 am, Friday. Navy blue scrubs - a good color on him. Black coffee, small this time. He brings his coffee and a few bottles of water to the counter and frowns at the pastry display.

“No powdered ones today, huh?”

Castiel glances over at the thick, plastic case even though he knows he just sold the last (and only) one to a man in a dirty green jacket who smelled heavily of marijuana.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know if you’d want one or not.” Castiel explains. His voice cracks around the words; maybe from disuse, maybe because this is the first time he’s ever actually spoken to the green-eyed doctor. Regardless, he feels like he’s done the doctor a disservice, selling what would have been his donut to another man.

“Nah,” the doctor says waving a hand in the air, “It’s okay. I mean, they’re my favorite, but-” he pats his stomach and offers Castiel a charming smile, “I should cut back anyway, right?”

Castiel shakes his head because quite frankly, he can see absolutely no flaws in the doctor.

The doctor chuckles. “You’re just being nice.” He says.

Castiel wants to rebuttal. He wants to tell the man he’s perfect, that Castiel has thought so ever since the first early morning the doctor slipped in and muttered, “Gas on 4, thanks.”

But instead Castiel just blinks.

“Anyway,” The doctor continues, handing Castiel some money, “I gotta get going. Got surgery at 6. Save a donut for me next time though, huh?” He winks at Castiel, and then Castiel is, once again, studying the man’s shoulders as his feet carry him out the door and over to the shiny, black muscle car he roars up in every morning.

Surgery, Castiel repeats silently. So the doctor is a surgeon.

Castiel doesn’t work on Saturdays - it’s one of the perks of working the graveyard shifts - but he almost wishes he was at work, being smiled and winked at by the surgeon with the freckles, and charming green eyes.

At 3:52am on Monday morning, Castiel fishes out the only two powdered donuts from the pastry display. He places them carefully in a red and white cardboard container, one meant to hold nachos and hot dogs, and sets them out of the way. Then he waits.

4:27am, the doctor’s black Impala rumbles into the parking lot. Castiel crosses the convenience store with the powdered donuts in hand and pops them in the microwave for one minute. He’s back behind the counter before the doctor even enters the store.

4:29am. Light blue scrubs. Hair still wet from the shower, not even styled for the day. He must be running late. Or too tired to care.

Castiel watches with a wildly pounding heart and clammy palms as the doctor heads straight for the coffee dispenser and reaches for the largest cup. He doesn’t pour any creamers into the steaming black liquid, Castiel knew he wouldn’t, and within a few minutes he’s standing in front of Castiel, surveying the pastry display with a furrowed brow.

“Somebody beat me to it again?” He wonders, tired eyes fixing on Castiel.

Castiel pulls the red and white container from below the counter, presenting it to the man on the other side of the register.

“I saved them for you, just like you asked.” Castiel says. His words come out more brave than he feels, and he watches a range of emotions cross over the doctor’s face; disbelief, ponderment, and finally, a smile.

“You really did.”

Castiel nods and pushes them across the counter. “They’re warm.” He offers.

The doctor picks one up and shoves half of it in his mouth, moaning around the warm, gooey middle that oozes out. “You are, literally, the best.” He manages around a mouth-full of donut. There’s white powder all around his lips, and the first word that comes to Castiel’s mind is, wonderful.

Castiel quirks a smile. No one has ever considered him the best at anything before.

In less than thirty seconds, the first donut has been inhaled. The doctor picks up the second one and breaks it in half, handing one half to Castiel. “My treat,” he says with a wink.

Castiel blinks down at the donut.

The doctor takes a bite of his half and watches Castiel for a second before stating, “That was probably rude of me, huh? Only giving you half.”

“No-” Castiel says, shaking his head. “This is- thank you.” It’s just half of a donut, but the gesture sends warmth coursing through Castiel, ebbing throughout his chest and making him feel… tingly. He takes a bite.

“I’m Dean, by the way. Winchester. Figured we see enough of each other these days to be on a first name basis.”

Castiel nods. “Castiel.”

It’s silent for a moment. Millions of little butterflies running rampant in Castiel’s stomach until, “What kind of surgeon are you?”

Another mouthful of donut. “Pediatric.”

“You work with children.” Castiel doesn’t know why he says it, mostly because he’s impressed he supposes, but the doctor - Dean - nods anyway.

More butterflies. More warmth in his chest.

Castiel has never thought of himself as someone who was good with children, not that he’s ever really had the chance to test that theory, but just the thought of Dean working with kids makes the doctor even more appealing than he was before.

“You like working here?” Dean wonders. He’s finished off his donut and is now sipping at his coffee.

Castiel glances down at his cobalt blue vest, the one he has to wear every day, and contemplates his answer. The Gas-N-Sip has been an okay job for him over the past year, it’s a bit lonely at times, but if he didn’t work at the Gas-N-Sip he may never have met Dean so, “Yes,” he finally decides.

Dean smiles. “Awesome.”

Another beat of silence passes between them. It isn’t awkward, but Castiel feels like it’s his turn to say something so he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. “I thought you were running late today.”

The doctor’s brow furrows.

“Your hair was wet.”

“Oh.” And maybe it’s the poor lighting in the gas station, or Castiel’s wishful thinking, but it seems as if the doctor’s cheeks flush. “I uh-” He scratches at the back of his neck. “I’m actually early. I’m not on until 8 today, but…”

Castiel waits quietly for Dean to find his words.

“I came because I wanted to see you.”

“You came because you wanted to-” Castiel trails off.

“Yeah I-” Dean takes a deep breath. “I almost lost a patient last night. She pulled through in the end, but it was a long night. And you know what my first thought was when I found out she was going to be okay?”

“Thank God she’s okay?”

Dean chuckles. “Okay, second thought. I- I just wanted to be here. I know that’s probably weird this is just a gas station, but…”

Anyone else may have found the admittance strange, but Castiel just feels warm. Warmer even than before, like actual sunlight is about to come pouring out of his chest and flood the Gas-N-Sip.

“I don’t know, I kinda like seeing you every morning now. You never say much, but I look forward to it anyway. Hell, sometimes you’re the best part of my day. And then today, the thing with the donuts, that was-” Dean lets out a breath, “You’re just really awesome, Cas, and I think about you a lot.” There’s no doubt about it now, Dean’s cheeks are definitely colored pink. Castiel thinks it may be the best look on the doctor Castiel has seen yet.

“You’re the best part of my day, too.” Castiel offers. He feels a smile growing on his face, the feeling foreign, but nice, and if Dean’s return smile is anything to go by, Castiel’s face has done the right thing.

“So I was wondering.” Dean says. “Could I maybe see you outside of the gas station sometime?”

Castiel tilts his head, processing Dean’s words. “Like on a date?”

“Yeah,” Dean breathes through an uneasy laugh, “exactly like on a date.”

The butterflies are going wild again, beating around inside Castiel’s stomach, like they’re hosting their own private hockey match, and instead of answering, he gets lost in the feeling of being wanted by someone else. It’s new, and it’s heavy, but at the same time light, and wonderful, and at any given moment Castiel fears he could actually burst from how good he feels.

Dean frowns. “Sorry, was that too forward?”

“No!” Castiel basically shouts, quick to correct the miscommunication. “I’d like that. Yes. A date. Dean, a date with you would make me very happy.”

Dean visibly relaxes. “Scared me for a minute there, Cas.” His smile is wide and warm, and Castiel wants to reach across the counter top and touch Dean, just to see what he feels like. Sunshine, he supposes, and comfort, and warmth.

Perhaps on their date he’ll get the opportunity to find out.

Dean pulls a business card out of his wallet and slides it across the counter. “Call me when you can and we’ll figure out a good day, yeah?”

Castiel picks up the card and studies it, eyes wandering over Dean’s name with the letters ChD directly after it. “Yes,” Castiel finally responds, looking back up into the doctor’s bright, green eyes.

Dean smiles. “I look forward to it,” he says.

Castiel nods. “Me too.”

As he watches Dean leave the convenience store, just like he does every morning, there’s a smile on his face and, in place of the longing he usually feels, anticipation between his ribs.

4:36am. Dean’s not even out of the parking lot yet. Castiel dials his number anyway.

u summon me and i appear drinking a large dunkin donuts iced coffee with my titties out

i take a sip and say ‘hey bitch u ready to succuBUST A NUT?!!’ and you immediately exorcise me out of your household

TEACHER ADVENTURES: When you never leave the classroom…

[From my recent FB post] I know it was a busy day in education when: (1) I step out of my classroom at 4pm and realize that I have been in my classroom since 8:15am never having stepped a foot outside; (2) I return to my classroom and notice the LARGE pink box of donuts that I wanted to give to my 6th period but never did, now I am stuck with 2 dozen donuts; (3) that my lunch bag remains untouched because I did not eat lunch; I (4) look at the 3 empty bottles of water on my desk that I never refilled and therefore DID NOT drink a single drop of water all day; and (5) finding that paper that I was looking for two weeks ago under my desk on top of that bucket the school gave me. It was THAT kind of day. 🙄 Oh, and (6) students screeched when they saw me.

Originally posted by ocularinvasion

Halloween~Calum Hood

You and Calum had both decided that since you son was now two, that he was allowed to go trick or treating. You have both been searching for weeks to find something for him to wear as a costume but neither of you could make up your mind. 

“Colby, what do you want to be for Halloween?” You questioned and you looked at you with a binkie in his mouth and he popped it out to talk. 

“Elsa from Frozen.” He said making you laugh from how cute he looked. 

“Alright, sounds good.” You giggled texting Calum to pick it up on his ride home from work. 

“What is my sister going as?” He asked. 

“Nothing. She’ll still be in my belly on Halloween. She’s not due until after Christmas.” He touched your belly as you both talked. He was more than excited to meet his little sister. 

When Calum got home, you had Colby try on his costume to make sure it fit. 

“I look cute?” 

“You look very cute. Would you like to go to a pumpkin patch?” Calum asked and he nodded while clapping his hands. You smiled as you got him into warm clothing and got him in to the car.

Colby ran around the pumpkin patch lining up the pumpkins to pick which one he wanted. You sat on a large pumpkin eating donuts while Calum chased him around. Once Colby had picked out the largest pumpkin he could find, you all walked to the check out where they weighed each pumpkin.

“Jesus christ.” Calum mumbled as he handed over the money. Colby was spoiled. He got whatever he wanted. Calum would rather just have him happy than to deal with a sad child and while you agreed, a hundred dollars for a 3 pumpkins was a lot of money.

You carried the smallest pumpkin to help Cal out as you walked back to the car. You got Colby in the car while put the pumpkins in the car.

“What we do with them when we get home?” He asked.

“We’re gonna take out the insides and then carve faces into the pumpkin.” You tickled him while he laughed.

While Calum took out the middle of the pumpkin, you cleaned it off and saved the seeds to cook them and eat them later. Colby had fallen asleep on the couch while you both worked.

“I should make cookies.” You said.

“No. You’ll eat them all.” He said.

“Shut up I’m pregnant.”

“Oh by the way, we need to get a long sleeve shirt to put under his costume to keep him warm. And it’ll be itchy.” He said and you nodded. “He can wear his Blue crocs with it. He’ll look so cute.” He smiled.

“Yeah, he will.” You were very thankful that Calum didn’t make a big deal of Colby wanting to wear a “girls” costume for Halloween. You didn’t care what Colby wore, as long as he was happy, you were happy.

anonymous asked:

▶Make your ass grow ridiculously large, along with your donut, and use fenestrated planes to sit on your own face

Jeez, you put all this work into dolling up your junk, and now they just want you to somehow sit on your own face. This isn’t exactly going to be the most comfortable thing, but… You take two planes, laying one flat on the floor and just holding the other in your hands. That should work. After a little pulse of Spatial energy, your already plump rump further swells up to almost ludicrous proportions, along with your puffy little donut. You bite your lip, trying to lay comfortably such that just your rear pokes out one window, right into your face through the other one. It’s… certainly an odd way to go about it, and sitting on your own face doesn’t do a WHOLE lot for you, but at least from this angle you can play with yourself from a different angle. You spend a while teasing your own little pucker with your lips, tongue, and even a few fingers… okay, that’s a lie, you spend a while lazily fisting yourself and tugging yourself off from below. It’s sort of a lavish experience when you do that, if nothing else, even if you’re having to float the window in front of you.