This is a RED Sniper RP account. Ask box and other links at bottom of the page.
Alluring. The scent seems to penetrate even the thickest of walls, finding a way to reach through the hot stale air and out into the far reaches of the parking lot. So faint, yet distinct enough to wake a man from a light snooze.
Tired strides lead the sniper indoors where the smell only grows stronger. Heat and sugar, both hanging very pleasantly in the air.
By the time he reaches the kitchen he feels like a kid again. Standing in the doorway, watching eagerly at all the work that goes into making something so delicious. It reminds him of the days his mother would take over the entire kitchen. Everything from counter tops to tables covered in pots and pans and full to the brim with pastries and pies. His favorites were always the ones made with fresh peaches from the tree in their backyard. If he picked the most he would get the first piece cut from the cobbler they were used to make.
Bruce leans in the doorway, simply enjoying the sweet smell radiating throughout the room. Whatever tasty treat is baking, he hopes that when it’s done he’ll get a chance to sneak the first piece.
|Posted on July 30 with 3 notes||Reblog||#Drabble #Writing prompt #tranquilneedles #Food '|
[[ Sleep now, more drabbles later.
Feel free to send more while i’m out. Always nice to wake up to new things waiting for me. ]]
|Posted on July 30 with 1 note||Reblog||#OOC|
Metal grinds against metal
|Posted on July 30 with 19 notes||Reblog||#Drabble #Writing prompt #NSFW ' #redstone-demon #Bondage ' #Masochism '|
[[ I literally couldn’t stop myself from writing that as soon as I got the prompt, the idea just punched me in the face like… someone punching me in the face. ]]
|Posted on July 29 with 3 notes||Reblog||#OOC|
He likes when he gets to hold them. They were always much smoother than his own and warm, so comfortably warm. He likes the feel of soft lines under his tracing thumb and that sensation of warmth and sticky sweat just after they’re stripped of their usual protection. It’s in the idle motions between kisses and sweet whispers, when they touch.
Bruce curls his fingers around Quintin’s hands. He likes when he gets to hold them.
|Posted on July 29 with 4 notes||Reblog||#Drabble #Writing prompt #deadman walkin #sirscribbsalot|
[[ Three prompts is a good place to start. Thank you! ]]
|Posted on July 29 with 1 note||Reblog||#OOC #[[ they're good ones too. ]] #[[ feel free to send more. I'll get writing when i get home from taco tuesday. ]]|
It could be anything. Some examples:
It doesn’t need to be safe for work either, feel free to sent topics about kinks, gore, or death. It’s been a good while since I wrote something raunchy.
|Posted on July 29 with 4 notes||Reblog||#OOC #[[ Something to help me write stuff without worrying about getting it done in time for someone to reply ]] #[[ I guess it would also be useful in writing some starters if anyone wants to go with that. ]] #[[ Seriously though... send me some prompts to write porn to also. I so want to write something about dicks. ]]|
He sticks his finger in the water. But, as all fishes will do, she immediately ducks and swims away from it, hiding in the little decorative skull.
"We call her Betsy. She is the only project Odette has managed to perfect so far, and she is incredibly precious to us. I thought she would be safest with you."
Quintin pauses, righting himself. “Odette is working on something — huge! I will only tell you this much. She is… ugh.” He hasn’t spoken English in a while, and cannot figure the word. He waves a hand. “At any rate, she is trusting me. Ah — ” he snaps his fingers. “That reminds me. How are your feelings about children?”
Questions bubble in his mind, too many to choose a single one to ask. He wants to ask about Quintin’s travels, his well being, his sister’s schemes, the fish, why his camper is being used as a safe house, but most of all … what does any of these things have to do with children?
Bruce has a sickening sense of deja vu,the kind that ties one’s stomach into knots. He’s worried what will follow his answer.
"I can tolerate ‘em, I suppose." He sets down his mug, hesitating, "Why?"
|Posted on July 23 with 14 notes||Reblog||#deadman walkin|
*stubbornly stays awake all night until he ends up falling asleep sitting upright*
|Posted on July 23 with 1 note||Reblog|
|Posted on July 22 with 383 notes||Reblog||#TF2 #Sniper #Spy|