#((bring John in if you like :D))

[unwavering-devotion]

im sorry you have to be treated by seward he's an awful annoying little freak and i hate him

Where have you been all my time in here.

[yeoldenews]

A Guide to Historically Accurate Regency-Era Names

I recently received a message from a historical romance writer asking if I knew any good resources for finding historically accurate Regency-era names for their characters.

Not knowing any off the top of my head, I dug around online a bit and found there really isn’t much out there. The vast majority of search results were Buzzfeed-style listicles which range from accurate-adjacent to really, really, really bad.

I did find a few blog posts with fairly decent name lists, but noticed that even these have very little indication as to each name’s relative popularity as those statistical breakdowns really don't exist.

I began writing up a response with this information, but then I (being a research addict who was currently snowed in after a blizzard) thought hey - if there aren’t any good resources out there why not make one myself?

As I lacked any compiled data to work from, I had to do my own data wrangling on this project. Due to this fact, I limited the scope to what I thought would be the most useful for writers who focus on this era, namely - people of a marriageable age living in the wealthiest areas of London.

So with this in mind - I went through period records and compiled the names of 25,000 couples who were married in the City of Westminster (which includes Mayfair, St. James and Hyde Park) between 1804 to 1821.

So let’s see what all that data tells us…

To begin - I think it’s hard for us in the modern world with our wide and varied abundance of first names to conceive of just how POPULAR popular names of the past were.

If you were to take a modern sample of 25-year-old (born in 1998) American women, the most common name would be Emily with 1.35% of the total population. If you were to add the next four most popular names (Hannah, Samantha, Sarah and Ashley) these top five names would bring you to 5.5% of the total population. (source: Social Security Administration)

If you were to do the same survey in Regency London - the most common name would be Mary with 19.2% of the population. Add the next four most popular names (Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah and Jane) and with just 5 names you would have covered 62% of all women.

To hit 62% of the population in the modern survey it would take the top 400 names.

The top five Regency men’s names (John, William, Thomas, James and George) have nearly identical statistics as the women’s names.

I struggled for the better part of a week with how to present my findings, as a big list in alphabetical order really fails to get across the popularity factor and also isn’t the most tumblr-compatible format. And then my YouTube homepage recommended a random video of someone ranking all the books they’d read last year - and so I present…

The Regency Name Popularity Tier List

The Tiers

S+ - 10% of the population or greater. There is no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. 52% of the population had one of these 7 names.

S - 2-10%. There is still no modern equivalent to this level of popularity. Names in this percentage range in the past have included Mary and William in the 1880s and Jennifer in the late 1970s (topped out at 4%).

A - 1-2%. The top five modern names usually fall in this range. Kids with these names would probably include their last initial in class to avoid confusion. (1998 examples: Emily, Sarah, Ashley, Michael, Christopher, Brandon.)

B - .3-1%. Very common names. Would fall in the top 50 modern names. You would most likely know at least 1 person with these names. (1998 examples: Jessica, Megan, Allison, Justin, Ryan, Eric)

C - .17-.3%. Common names. Would fall in the modern top 100. You would probably know someone with these names, or at least know of them. (1998 examples: Chloe, Grace, Vanessa, Sean, Spencer, Seth)

D - .06-.17%. Less common names. In the modern top 250. You may not personally know someone with these names, but you’re aware of them. (1998 examples: Faith, Cassidy, Summer, Griffin, Dustin, Colby)

E - .02-.06%. Uncommon names. You’re aware these are names, but they are not common. Unusual enough they may be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Calista, Skye, Precious, Fabian, Justice, Lorenzo)

F - .01-.02%. Rare names. You may have heard of these names, but you probably don’t know anyone with one. Extremely unusual, and would likely be remarked upon. (1998 examples: Emerald, Lourdes, Serenity, Dario, Tavian, Adonis)

G - Very rare names. There are only a handful of people with these names in the entire country. You’ve never met anyone with this name.

H - Virtually non-existent. Names that theoretically could have existed in the Regency period (their original source pre-dates the early 19th century) but I found fewer than five (and often no) period examples of them being used in Regency England. (Example names taken from romance novels and online Regency name lists.)

Just to once again reinforce how POPULAR popular names were before we get to the tier lists - statistically, in a ballroom of 100 people in Regency London: 80 would have names from tiers S+/S. An additional 15 people would have names from tiers A/B and C. 4 of the remaining 5 would have names from D/E. Only one would have a name from below tier E.

Women's Names

S+ Mary, Elizabeth, Ann, Sarah      

S - Jane, Mary Ann+, Hannah, Susannah, Margaret, Catherine, Martha, Charlotte, Maria

A - Frances, Harriet, Sophia, Eleanor, Rebecca

B - Alice, Amelia, Bridget~, Caroline, Eliza, Esther, Isabella, Louisa, Lucy, Lydia, Phoebe, Rachel, Susan

C - Ellen, Fanny*, Grace, Henrietta, Hester, Jemima, Matilda, Priscilla

D - Abigail, Agnes, Amy, Augusta, Barbara, Betsy*, Betty*, Cecilia, Christiana, Clarissa, Deborah, Diana, Dinah, Dorothy, Emily, Emma, Georgiana, Helen, Janet^, Joanna, Johanna, Judith, Julia, Kezia, Kitty*, Letitia, Nancy*, Ruth, Winifred>

E - Arabella, Celia, Charity, Clara, Cordelia, Dorcas, Eve, Georgina, Honor, Honora, Jennet^, Jessie*^, Joan, Joyce, Juliana, Juliet, Lavinia, Leah, Margery, Marian, Marianne, Marie, Mercy, Miriam, Naomi, Patience, Penelope, Philadelphia, Phillis, Prudence, Rhoda, Rosanna, Rose, Rosetta, Rosina, Sabina, Selina, Sylvia, Theodosia, Theresa

F - (selected) Alicia, Bethia, Euphemia, Frederica, Helena, Leonora, Mariana, Millicent, Mirah, Olivia, Philippa, Rosamund, Sybella, Tabitha, Temperance, Theophila, Thomasin, Tryphena, Ursula, Virtue, Wilhelmina

G - (selected) Adelaide, Alethia, Angelina, Cassandra, Cherry, Constance, Delilah, Dorinda, Drusilla, Eva, Happy, Jessica, Josephine, Laura, Minerva, Octavia, Parthenia, Theodora, Violet, Zipporah

H - Alberta, Alexandra, Amber, Ashley, Calliope, Calpurnia, Chloe, Cressida, Cynthia, Daisy, Daphne, Elaine, Eloise, Estella, Lilian, Lilias, Francesca, Gabriella, Genevieve, Gwendoline, Hermione, Hyacinth, Inez, Iris, Kathleen, Madeline, Maude, Melody, Portia, Seabright, Seraphina, Sienna, Verity

Men's Names

S+ John, William, Thomas

S - James, George, Joseph, Richard, Robert, Charles, Henry, Edward, Samuel

A - Benjamin, (Mother’s/Grandmother’s maiden name used as first name)#

B - Alexander^, Andrew, Daniel, David>, Edmund, Francis, Frederick, Isaac, Matthew, Michael, Patrick~, Peter, Philip, Stephen, Timothy

C - Abraham, Anthony, Christopher, Hugh>, Jeremiah, Jonathan, Nathaniel, Walter

D - Adam, Arthur, Bartholomew, Cornelius, Dennis, Evan>, Jacob, Job, Josiah, Joshua, Lawrence, Lewis, Luke, Mark, Martin, Moses, Nicholas, Owen>, Paul, Ralph, Simon

E - Aaron, Alfred, Allen, Ambrose, Amos, Archibald, Augustin, Augustus, Barnard, Barney, Bernard, Bryan, Caleb, Christian, Clement, Colin, Duncan^, Ebenezer, Edwin, Emanuel, Felix, Gabriel, Gerard, Gilbert, Giles, Griffith, Harry*, Herbert, Humphrey, Israel, Jabez, Jesse, Joel, Jonas, Lancelot, Matthias, Maurice, Miles, Oliver, Rees, Reuben, Roger, Rowland, Solomon, Theophilus, Valentine, Zachariah

F - (selected) Abel, Barnabus, Benedict, Connor, Elijah, Ernest, Gideon, Godfrey, Gregory, Hector, Horace, Horatio, Isaiah, Jasper, Levi, Marmaduke, Noah, Percival, Shadrach, Vincent

G - (selected) Albion, Darius, Christmas, Cleophas, Enoch, Ethelbert, Gavin, Griffin, Hercules, Hugo, Innocent, Justin, Maximilian, Methuselah, Peregrine, Phineas, Roland, Sebastian, Sylvester, Theodore, Titus, Zephaniah

H - Albinus, Americus, Cassian, Dominic, Eric, Milo, Rollo, Trevor, Tristan, Waldo, Xavier

# Men were sometimes given a family surname (most often their mother's or grandmother's maiden name) as their first name - the most famous example of this being Fitzwilliam Darcy. If you were to combine all surname-based first names as a single 'name' this is where the practice would rank.

*Rank as a given name, not a nickname

+If you count Mary Ann as a separate name from Mary - Mary would remain in S+ even without the Mary Anns included

~Primarily used by people of Irish descent

^Primarily used by people of Scottish descent

>Primarily used by people of Welsh descent

I was going to continue on and write about why Regency-era first names were so uniform, discuss historically accurate surnames, nicknames, and include a little guide to finding 'unique' names that are still historically accurate - but this post is already very, very long, so that will have to wait for a later date.

If anyone has any questions/comments/clarifications in the meantime feel free to message me.

Methodology notes: All data is from marriage records covering six parishes in the City of Westminster between 1804 and 1821. The total sample size was 50,950 individuals.

I chose marriage records rather than births/baptisms as I wanted to focus on individuals who were adults during the Regency era rather than newborns. I think many people make the mistake when researching historical names by using baby name data for the year their story takes place rather than 20 to 30 years prior, and I wanted to avoid that. If you are writing a story that takes place in 1930 you don’t want to research the top names for 1930, you need to be looking at 1910 or earlier if you are naming adult characters.

I combined (for my own sanity) names that are pronounced identically but have minor spelling differences: i.e. the data for Catherine also includes Catharines and Katherines, Susannah includes Susannas, Phoebe includes Phebes, etc.

The compound 'Mother's/Grandmother's maiden name used as first name' designation is an educated guesstimate based on what I recognized as known surnames, as I do not hate myself enough to go through 25,000+ individuals and confirm their mother's maiden names. So if the tally includes any individuals who just happened to be named Fitzroy/Hastings/Townsend/etc. because their parents liked the sound of it and not due to any familial relations - my bad.

I did a small comparative survey of 5,000 individuals in several rural communities in Rutland and Staffordshire (chosen because they had the cleanest data I could find and I was lazy) to see if there were any significant differences between urban and rural naming practices and found the results to be very similar. The most noticeable difference I observed was that the S+ tier names were even MORE popular in rural areas than in London. In Rutland between 1810 and 1820 Elizabeths comprised 21.4% of all brides vs. 15.3% in the London survey. All other S+ names also saw increases of between 1% and 6%. I also observed that the rural communities I surveyed saw a small, but noticeable and fairly consistent, increase in the use of names with Biblical origins.

Sources of the records I used for my survey: 

Ancestry.com. England & Wales Marriages, 1538-1988 [database on-line].

Ancestry.com. Westminster, London, England, Church of England Marriages and Banns, 1754-1935 [database on-line].

[tojisun]

simon riley x john price x f!reader prev

tags: d/s (dom john, switch simon, sub reader); smut; binding and gag; hinted daddy kink; objectification kink; authority kink (& issues)

The yawning used to escape him, trickling into streams unchecked. That is then; it is an estuary now. It is something delicate. Vulnerable. Simon wonders when did his desires become visible and rippling. When did they form tendrils swimming past the noose he’s got on them?

Terrifying. Simon's desires are terrifying. He cannot map the exact moment that they began, just that they did, and now he finds himself crumbling at the slightest look. At the barest of touch.

Simon wants his captain. 

He dreams of John. He dreams of how he will take the older man with hot lips and scalding prayers. He dreams of a pleasure so great, it leaves his captain shaking. Stuttering with quiet tears and swollen lips tugged up in a satisfied grin.

“C’mere, boy,” his captain—this version of him that plagues Simon’s dreams—says, all soft and sweet and coy in that way that will leave Simon’s throat aching like it is clogged with caramel and taffy, and he falls to his captain with a whimper.

He strips his cock with his rough hands when he wakes up, teeth biting into the flesh of his lips to muffle his moans. He thinks of the slope of his captain’s neck, the bend of it when he drops his head when he is exhausted. He thinks of his captain’s beard, how it felt on his skin in the burst of moments when the older man would turn to brush close to Simon in whispered conversations. He thinks of the soot on his captain’s boots; he thinks how he will not care—he will lick it clean if John asks.

Cum sprays in his hands, shooting across his stomach to land on his chest. Simon groans, his eyes shut close as he savours the moment. He waits for the shame to lick past the desire, for clarity to wash away the hunger, but his need grows.

It settles.

Ah, Simon thinks, peeling his eyes open. That’s how it’d be.

There is something different in Johnny’s gait, and Simon stalks close like an apex predator stalking the wounded prey. He expected shame or even denial from his friend, but what he sees instead blinds him with envy.

Johnny’s been claimed; he’s been moulded into Kyle and his darling girl’s doll. In a moment of weakness, he unleashes his jealousy and bares his teeth to the mutt. 

When his captain finds him, he takes one look at Simon and laughs. It is loud and booming, the kind that rumples the corners of his chest, and he is struck; frozen in time like he is young once more, wilting under his—

Under his father’s gaze.

“Ye’ jealous boy,” John says, his grin too sharp to be a friendly tease, then he leaves.

Simon watches him go with his lips pursed.

Something changes within his captain, after that. He is always stalking close, always a breath away. His eyes are sharp and knowing, heavy as they trace over Simon’s body. For his part, Simon doesn’t try to shake him off, rather, he basks in the attention. 

It is not warm or fluffy. It is burning, almost accusing, but Simon takes what he can get and this is his for however long his captain wants him. 

It is Kyle, greedy man that he is, who breaks the facade. 

“He’s testin’ you, LT,” the younger man says, bringing the flickering fire of his lighter to Simon’s stick. Simon doesn’t reply but he turns, head jutted to hear Kyle better. He meets Simon’s eyes head-on.

“He’s got a bird,” Kyle begins, the admission coming out so smoothly from him like it is some sort of retribution. Simon supposes it is—he did taunt his puppy, after all. “Cap’n’s about to leave ‘er for a mission, an’ I think that he wants to leave ‘er to you.” 

Smoke leaves Simon’s lips in stuttered wisps. Kyle shoots him a crinkled smile. “He’s not doin’ that—” the weighted attention, the obsessive hovering, “f’r you, sir.”

Simon doesn’t give him a reply. He knows that it is nothing but an attempt at hiding. 

When Kyle leaves, Simon begins his hunt.

Names, relationships, places last visited—Simon finds them with ease, bypassing encrypted and locked accounts as he sinks his teeth further into the tender acres of his captain’s secret. A bird, one that Kyle knows of before Simon could. 

He doesn’t know what to name the taste lingering in the back of his tongue but it makes him angrier. Greedier. 

He realizes he’s found her when he sees you. 

And, oh. The ease, the way each code that he tried had worked—his captain wanted him to find you. Shivers rack his body, making him twitch and his mind grows heady because he takes this for what it is.

A reward. 

Or, better yet, his invitation. 

John introduces the two of you, waxing poetry about Simon, promising you that he will be kind. That he will be here to protect you. And you laugh through it all, bright and bubbly, thanking your boyfriend’s colleague for volunteering to help. Neither John nor Simon corrected your assumptions.

Boyfriend. 

It is such a juvenile term but John had looked so proud, his chest puffing up and his lips wobbling as you bulldozed through your words, fluttering about how you didn’t need protection, bee-tee-dubs. Simon watches as John pulls you into his arms, whispering in such a soft voice that Simon feels—

Stilted. 

This isn’t the John that he knew. 

This isn’t the John that he wanted. 

The jealousy that threatened to burst in his veins petered into a soft ripple, calming down at the sight before him. Because you can have this John, the one that is too soft and too gentle and too human, but Simon has the one he wants. 

The one hardened by the war; the one who smells of cigars and soot and ozone; the one who barks out orders; the one whose gaze is hard, sharp, edged like every narrowed gaze is a slashing. Simon has the John that matters. 

Simon wilts into himself then, distancing himself from the two of you. The domesticity, the cozy flat, the lined books and art-nouveau-style mirrors and bookshelves—yes, you can have this. Simon isn’t envious of this. 

Before he leaves, John turns to Simon, his warm hand cupping Simon’s jaw. Warm eyes stare at him. “Well, then. Take care of y’rself too, ��kay?”

He asks like he did not just strip the layers of reassurances that Simon cloaked himself in, leaving him bare and vulnerable before John’s callused touch. He is too startled to reply, and John finally makes himself scarce, leaving two yearning souls waiting for his return.

Simon didn’t intend to overstep beyond the morning check-ins and the nightly tuck-ins, but routine takes root and he finds himself unwinding in the little corner of your flat. 

It isn’t too difficult—you are a warm host. You know not to ask much or to speak too loud, and Simon wonders how much of this is learned behaviour. Is this John in your form; is it his captain teaching you how to live with someone so torn and so broken that Simon is seeing so much of it in the way you look at him, the way you talk to him?

But it’s too much. Like muscle memory or something natural like breathing. It is like a reflex; your kindness just is. It gives him comfort, how your sweetness is innate. 

It’s two in the morning when he understands why his captain keeps you. 

He hears it by accident; murmured conversations slip through the crack of your door. Simon was just about to close it when John’s voice pierced through the static. 

“Simon treatin’ you well, baby?”

A moan drips from your side, and Simon startles at the following squelch. 

“He—hnn—he is, daddy,�� you pant out, sniffling. The bed creaks, the sheets rustling. “I want the two o’you.”

“Shh,” John consoles, all faux worry. “Soon, baby. Be good f’r him, okay?”

Simon doesn’t bother hearing whatever you said next, choosing instead to march back in his room. He drops to the mattress, head falling to his hands. He breathes in, trying to will off the fever, but John’s voice rings in his head, then your quiet mewls, and Simon knows that it is futile now. 

Hunger thrums, it builds. 

His cock is in his hands in the next breath. 

Simon looks into your eyes, trying to see how you could have hidden your desire for him; trying to map out how you managed to lock it up so that he wouldn’t notice. But your furrowed gaze and your confused smile shows him something that is fascinating—you are a fraud. 

You’re not sweet. Well, you are, but not in that wide-eyed way that you and John showed Simon the first day thathe introduced you to him; not in that curling innocence that you shrouded yourself in. You are not John’s shielded bird nor his pampered dove. 

No. 

You have been playing John’s game; your cards are just as hidden, if not sharpened, and your dice are edged. You were cheating, creating all this miasma to reel Simon in. The river to his estuary. 

Cunning girl. 

“Si?”

But Kyle already sent him a curt message: Captain’s back. And Simon knows enough of the game to play it. 

“C’mere,” he grunts and pulls you close. Your squeak is devoured by his lips, and something hums in his chest like he’s finally at the precipice of being full. 

That is how John finds the two of you—you, bound and gagged and spread open in Simon’s room; your cunt is all bruised and leaking and stuffed with a toy; and Simon, smoking close to the window, his ass perched on the windowsill, watching. Waiting. 

John laughs and it is so mean. The howling in Simon’s head screeches to a halt because finally. Finally, he has his captain back. 

“Oh, sweet girl,” John croons as he steps close to you. Your teary eyes gaze up at him, begging, but Simon watches as all that John does is trace his knuckles along your splotchy cheek. “Y’haven’t been good, have y’?”

Your reply is nothing but a muffled complaint. John clicks his tongue. Simon straightens up, back going taut, his cock hardening in his briefs. 

“Stop complaining,” John tuts, flicking at your nipples, making you howl. Gone is his softness, replaced, instead, with someone overpowering. 

Oh. Simon thinks that he is falling in love again. 

John makes Simon fuck you, and it is all parts delicious, and good, and painful. 

Simon’s not allowed to cum—not in you, not on your thighs, or even in his own hands. John forbids it. And Simon knows better than to fool his captain; not only is he stalking close, with a lit cigar propped in his lips and his wandering hands pawing at your heaving chest or cupping Simon’s jaw, but he dictates everything. 

He tells Simon when to pull out, gruff voice barking out orders once again, before reaching over to clamp his hand shut around the length of Simon’s cock like his captain cannot trust him to not cum. Simon feels the stirrings in his gut, pushing and cornering him, and he feels small when his captain uses him this way. 

John’s thumb brushes over his slit and he hisses in his oversensitivity, making his hips twitch. John clamps his hand tighter in warning, a warning growl ripping from his captain’s chest, and Simon stutters out his sorry’s. He doesn’t mean a single one; he doesn’t even want John to loosen his hold because Simon loves it like this. Painful. Humiliating. Him, being reduced to a twitching mess. 

“Look at him, baby,” John murmurs, his voice lilting to a spark of softness, the first of the night. Simon’s eyes fall on you at his captain’s words, and his chest seizes at the teary mess that you make. 

You have been beautiful in your measured sweetness, but like this, sobbing and begging and at their—because John still allows Simon to ruin you—mercy, Simon knows that you have never looked more beautiful. Is this why John is addicted? 

John’s other hand pushes your hair away from your sweaty face. “Isn’t he pretty?”

All you can do is gurgle something behind the gag in your mouth. You’re not even looking at Simon, drawn to the only person in the room who’s still in his clothes, another layer of John’s total control. You are studying John, arching towards his caresses like it didn’t matter how Simon truly looked, you were just giving out a reply for John’s pleasure. 

Simon gets it, he does, because you are just like him, after all. 

He finally cums in John’s hands. He cums to the scene you make, rutting your pussy so desperately on his captain’s face, smothering him with your slick and your folds. John takes it like a fucking champ, his tongue working overtime before sucking at your slit like he will die of thirst if he doesn’t swallow your juices. 

It’s so debauched that all John had to do was pump his hands on Simon’s cock twice before he’s spraying his spunk all over his captain. 

He’ll burn this image in his mind. Fuck. Where’s his phone when he needs it?

“Good?” John asks, gliding his fingertips along the expanse of Simon’s arm. 

Simon grunts, trying his best to stay quiet with you sleeping between them. John huffs a pleased laugh and ducks down to press his lips on the top of your head. 

You grumble, twisting, before cuddling up to Simon. 

“She’s clingy,” he grumbles like he isn’t pulling you closer to him too. 

John fondly rolls his eyes at him before turning to shut the lamp off.

J Mactavish: hypocrite

note: god this didn’t come out the way i wanted but if you stuck until the end, thank you so so much <33

[allineedisonedream]

Hi!! I want to say that I absolutely adore your tangled au DC and I'm ready to kiss you for what you created - seriously, you literally connected my current favorite hyperfixation with my childhood favorite hyperfixation. I could not imagine that it would bring me such joy :D And oh, I'd like to share my version of Dick's early biography before Slade took him away and locked him in a high tower.

Dick is still Bruce's adopted son, but he was adopted in infancy. It was exactly the same as in "Maquia: When the Promised Flower Blooms" - the young king Bruce, while hunting, separated from his guards and his entourage, he found a circus caravan destroyed by robbers, all were killed except one woman and her infant son. A young woman, Mary Grayson, was dying from the wounds inflicted on her, lying next to her dead husband, but continued to hug and protect Dick, who was crying in her arms.

The young King tried to save her, but Mary could not be saved, instead he gave her a promise that he would take care of her child and the young woman died with a calm soul and a smile on her face. It was only when her hands began to lose warmth that Bruce took baby Dick and hugged him. Thus, a little prince appeared in the kingdom - Richard John Thomas. And when, some time later, he fell seriously ill, King Bruce was in despair and ordered his subjects to find a moon flower that, according to legends, is a real piece of a star that fell from the sky...

And my idea of Dick's early childhood is inspired by this wonderful piece of your art - tiny, sweet, wonderful Dick and affectionate Alfred and Bruce made my heart sing.

Omg, this is Canon! It’s so good it hurts so much ugh! Thank you for taking the time to write this—I love it!

Sorry for answering so late; I kind of wanted to make some art for this:

Chapter : <Previous / extra / Next>

Tangeld Au Chapter list ^^

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

Michael Sheen talks about David Tennant 3 (4?) times in The Assembly (including the Good Omens kiss) :), 5.4.2024

ONE:

Q: Who's the rudest celebrity?

Michael: Who's the rudest celebrity? Have you heard of a man called David Tennant?

All: Yes!

Someone: He was Doctor Who!

Michael: He was Doctor Who. Doctor Rude! The rudest man.

Someone: Is it so?

Michael: No, he's not really. He's lovely. He's very nice.

(bonus - yes I believe this was a dig at David :D <3

Q: What about Doctor Who? (do you like DW?)

Michael: Doctor Who. Depends on which one.)

TWO:

Q: If you're in Doctor who, who would you play, the Doctor or the Master?

Michael: Oh...

Someone: He's put you on the spot again.

Michael: I'm on that spot. I mean, there's been a lot of very good Doctor Whos.

Q: There has been.

Michael: The first Doctor Who I watched was John Pertwee.

Q: John Pertwee. He was the third Doctor Who.

Michael: Right. Well, he was, and I thought he was brilliant. And then Tom Baker.

Q: He was the fourth Doctor Who.

Michael: Right, yeah. I think maybe the Master would be a good play to part.

Q: I think you'll be the good Master.

Michael: They'll have to bring David Tennant back as Doctor Who again and then I can be the Master opposite him maybe.

THREE:

Q: Can you just walk us through the before, the during and the after of your passionate kiss with David Tennant?

Michael: Well, I remember, I remember reading the script and thinking, that's going to be a big deal, and.... yeah, didn't really talk about it and just went for it. I remember seeing that everyone was quite moved by the scene and all the people who were working on it, so we knew that it had gone quite well. Yeah .And now we never talk about it.

The Assembly can be watched on here (with UK VPN :))

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Reply All Author's Notes: After what feels like forever, the long awaited Gaz v Horangi chapter. Very different from the other ones, but trust I am finally cooking (maybe) Warnings: MDNI, Angst

A late night email from Laswell can never be good. And after reading one at 1am, Kyle can confirm it’s still not good. 

From: Laswell, Kate To: Price, John; Garrick, Kyle; etc… + more Cc: Keegan D. Russ; etc… + more Subject: Intelligence Officer in the Field

Intelligence officer in the field. You in the field. You in danger. 

Over Kyle’s dead body. If these weeks had shown Gaz anything, it’s that him and the boys don’t know how to protect you. Maybe once you’re officially on the team but now it’s better if you stay away from any risks. 

Therefore with a heavy heart, Kyle replies to Laswell’s email. He knows how much you wanted to go out in the field, prove your worth, but now is not the time. Now Kyle had to protect you. And to protect you meant making hard decisions. 

After sending a quick email to Laswell, expressing his weariness of bringing along a novice like yourself in the field, Kyle goes to sleep. It doesn’t come easy as the actions from the past few months come to haunt him but it eventually does. 

But unfortunately for him, his guilt still haunts him as he wakes up. His chest rests heavy, mind still tired from the shit sleep he had last night. Worst part is that he couldn’t even have a peaceful morning as his phone loses its mind. 

With the brightness way to high, Gaz starts to reads the multitude of messages polluting his phone. He doesn’t go far as one completely runs his blood cold. 

❤️❤️ - 6:34am Fuck you Kyle Garrick.

That wakes Gaz up. He keeps scrolling, looking for answers. 

MacTavish - 6:23am Jesus. and I thought lt was the heartless one Lieutenant 👻 - 6:05qm Garrick do you need an email tutorial or something?  John P - 1:56am Thanks for that. Just a question, did you have to send that email to everyone? 

Email… what the fuck are they on— no, no, NO. 

Kyle rushes to his emails and sees two, one from Sergeant Kim and the other from Laswell herself. He starts with Horangi’s email which was sent first before Laswell’s. 

From: Kim, Hong-jin  To: Laswell, Kate CC: Price, John; Russ, Keegan D.;… + more  Subject: RE: Intelligence Officer in the Field Laswell, I completely disagree with Garrick. I don’t know what unpreparedness he may be alluding to, but I have nothing but respect and confidence in the intelligence officer and their ability in the field.  I have only worked with them for a few weeks but those few weeks have shown me that they are nothing but exceptional in their work. I have no doubt that their presence in the field would not be a hinderance but only elevate our performance. If Garrick and anyone in the 141 is worried about their own ability in watching out for one of their own, I, Russ, or Nikto would be more than happy to keep an eye on them. We are more than capable of doing both our job and the 141’s.  - Sergeant Kim Hong-jin

And looking at the time stamp, Horangi sent that minutes after Gaz sent his what he thought private email. He quickly scrolls up to see Kate’s response. 

His throat tightens as his eyes scan Kate’s short but brutal email. 

From: Laswell, Kate To: All Subject: RE: Intelligence Officer in the Field All, Thank you for the input Sergeant Kim but I trust Sergeant Garrick’s judgement on this.  Maybe another time. Sincerely, Kate

Fuck.

Word Count: 586

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[piplup335]

1x1x1x1 x reader! (but this time it’s the eggs skin lmao)

*ahem*

HELLO, F E L L A S -

sorry for vanishing, I got burnt out recently D:

took a break for my own mental health and bc idw to go insane ;-; I know this isn’t part of my requests, but I just wanted something to comfort myself :<

also I had some school orientation stuff yesterday and it was TIRINGGGG I fell asleep more than once during that thing so yea I’m kinda writing for this reason too-

I’ll get back to work ASAP :,) for now, enjoy this fic!

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Killing survivors day in, and day out was a mundane and tiring task. But that's what the Spectre wanted- mutual suffering. It wanted the survivors to experience the endless loop of dying over and over again. It wanted to bore the killers to the point they go insane and take out their anger on the survivors...which in turn completed the vicious cycle. Die, respawn and die again. Kill, get bored and kill again.

When it was your turn for "killing duty", as you liked to put it, it started with you motivating yourself for the round ahead and ended with you walking back into the killer's cabin, groaning in pain. Slash wounds covered your body and bruises were present all over your limbs, the blueish-purple marks an eyesore for everyone in the cabin. As you opened the door and stumbled in, all four killers turned to look at you and glanced at you in horror.

John Doe almost dropped his water. C00lkidd looked at you, unable to say or do anything as his small, innocent eyes glanced up at you with dismay in his eyes. He disliked seeing you in a pained state...he disliked seeing any of the killers in a pained state from playing around with the survivors, after all. Jason looked up at you from the couch, unable to bring himself to get back to reading upon seeing how roughed up you were. 1x1x1x1 was the only one who didn't seem too concerned. That was probably because they didn't want to burn themself, however, since they were busy cooking something on the stove. You had no idea what it was, but it smelled divine.

C00lkidd ran up to you and hugged you tightly. Despite being much younger than you, he was almost up to your height.

"(Y/N)!!! I missed you! Are you okay? What did the survivors do to you??"

His eyes welled up with tears as he looked at you. The sight of your injured form almost made him cry. He didn't like seeing you injured.

You groaned as you recalled what happened in the match. You lost horribly.

-

The survivors planned out a deadly combination beforehand and used you as their test subject. They sent Two Time to search for you and once they found you, they made a run for it...towards some other part of the map where Builderman set up a sentry. The moment you got in range, the sentry started firing at you, the pain of the bullet barrage slowing you down. As you approached the sentry to take it down, Shedletsky ran out from behind a wall and hit you with a nasty slash to the back. The pain burnt and you stumbled forward, landing on your knees on the dirt beneath you. You had to take a moment to breathe through the burning pain. You didn't have John Doe's pain tolerance...that man could be hit with knives or guns and would give himself a two-second pep talk before pushing through the pain and getting back to work.

The moment you got back up, you tried yet again to destroy the sentry. You raised your blade, swinging it down at the damned metal thing that was still firing rounds at you.

Instead of meeting steel, your sword struck the firm surface of Kevlar. Guest 1337 had parried your attack.

With another crushing parry to the face, you were back on the floor, clutching your cheek in pain. The damned sentry stared down your injured form, still firing bullet after bullet at you.

When you finally got back up, your rage-filled swing sent the sentry crumbling to the floor in a burning heap. Two Time stood some distance away from you, as if taunting you to attack them.

Without a second thought, you rushed towards them, ready to deliver a brutal strike that would be guaranteed to send them scuttling away from you, their spiny wings sprouting out of their back as a signal that they had entered their second life.

As you ran towards Two Time, your rage-filled state was unable to detect the tripwire that lay before you...sending you crumbling to the ground. You faceplanted into the floor, and a soft beeping could be heard to your left.

You turned your head, curious as to what the source of the noise was.

A square frame with a crystal encased in it phased back into existence, the tripmine glowing brighter and brighter as the crystal emitted a loud humming noise. It exploded with a flash, and for a brief moment, all you could see was the hot pink of the tripmine covering everything in sight. You tried to stumble towards Two Time, but your vision was still blurry from the sheer intensity of the flash. Shedletsky wasn't gonna let that moment slide and he sliced at you with his sword, followed up by Guest 1337 charging at you and bashing you into a wall...

-

You were exhausted, tired and drained from the crappy day you had just gone through. As you collapsed on the couch, C00lkidd ran over to you, his small hands holding yours as he looked at you with concern in his bright eyes. "Aunt/Uncle (Y/N)!! Are you okay? What happened to you today? Did the others play dirty during tag again?"

You nodded, a soft sigh escaping your mouth. You made an agreement with the others to tell C00lkidd that everything was a game of tag so that he wouldn't be too traumatised at his age.

As C00lkidd rambled on about how future games would be okay while lightly hugging your arm, your attention was diverted to the heavenly smell coming from the kitchen.

Something was cooking, and it smelt good.

Your eyes locked onto 1x1x1x1. They wore a chef's apron and a matching hat along with their usual domino crown. They even put on a chef's uniform for funsies.

And if you had to be honest with yourself, they looked kinda cute in it. 1x1x1x1, Shedletsky's manifestation of malice and hatred, wearing something normal for once.

He once told you that he got his cooking knowledge from Shedletsky. 1x1x1x1 and Shedletsky were both one and the same back in the past, where 1x1x1x1 was simply a seed being nurtured by Shedletsky's negativity. They saw everything through Shedletsky's eyes and heard everything through Shedletsky's ears...including all the cooking lessons and courses he took. They'd seen Shedletsky cook and learnt everything from him. So when 1x1x1x1 finally parted ways with Shedletsky, they took the shared knowledge with them, even after being forsaken.

Regardless, 1x1x1x1, just like their creator, could cook like a professional chef. Fifteen minutes later, all the killers sat at the table, a fresh plate of carbonara in front of them. 1x1x1x1 stood at the head of the table, their hands behind his back as he glanced over everyone with his crimson eyes.

"Dinner is served. Before you is a plate of carbonara. The pasta was freshly made by yours truly, topped with locally sourced bacon and authentic parmesan."

A grin made its way onto your face as you listened to their explanation. Not because you were impressed at the quality of the ingredients, but because you were trying so hard not to laugh at their explanation. You knew that in reality, they were making the most of the supplies the Spectre provided for its inhabitants.

The few of you could make requests to the Spectre and it would grant them, provided that the request was within reason. Everyone only found out about it when C00lkidd wished for a giant lollipop and it appeared at the cabin's doorstep, neatly wrapped in cling foil. Now he regularly requests lollipops from the Spectre, sometimes for his own consumption, sometimes to cheer the other killers up and sometimes so he can use them to play "tag" with the survivors.

You picked up your fork and dug in. The carbonara tasted divine. The noodles were just the right texture, and the bacon really hit the spot. As you scarfed down the meal, John Doe and C00lkidd shared a look.

"Uncle Doe, (Y/N) really is hungry..."

"Yeah. Can tell."

Once you were done, you sat back, satisfied with the hearty meal. After tossing the plates into the dishwasher, you retreated into your room for a nice, warm shower.

You zoned out from the comfortable feeling of the water cascading down your back and stayed inside for a bit too long. When you finally got out of the shower, now in something more comfortable, you saw 1x1x1x1 sitting on the side of your bed, a small bowl in hand. Instead of their chef's uniform, they wore a baggy shirt and a cosy pair of sweatpants.

"...hey. (Y/N). I made you some crème brûlée. Thought you had a rough day today, so I want to cheer you up."

Your eyes widened in awe. During the time you spent in the shower, they managed to make your favourite dessert for you. 1x1x1x1 passed you a small spoon, and you gently tapped at the caramelised sugar on the surface. You cracked the layer, scooping up some of the custard and sugar, and putting the spoon in your mouth.

It tasted sublime...just like how you used to remember it before you got thrown into this forsaken world. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you wrapped your arms around 1x1x1x1 in a tight hug.

"...it's perfect...thank you."

The chef froze up before a smile formed on his face, his hand reaching up to rub your back as you buried your face into his shoulder. After a long and tiring day, you needed a break...and 1x1x1x1 could see that.

"Relax, just relax, my dear...it's over. It's okay...I'm here now. Those pesky survivors are nothing more than annoying pests. I'll deal with them next time, honey."

You knew he was mainly talking about Shedletsky, but you could care less.

For now, all you needed was your lover's comfort.

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and that’s it for now, fellas! hope you enjoyed it :D

as a little side note, if you enjoyed the fic or have any feedback, do let me know! I thrive off people saying they enjoyed my fics + I know I’m at least doing something right :,) hope you all don’t feel that I’m too selfish or smth-

oh shoot I’m rambling ANYWAYYYY-

take care, and I’ll see you all soon!

also if you liked it please drop a follow- *dies*

[sebmindbreak]

GASHARPOON! john doe x siren! you

HEADCANONS TIME!

i worked on those early and now i can publish them >:D

(i had to reread myself alot i did alot of errors , especialy spelling gasharpoon with only one o...)

IM TRYING MY BEST >:/

ANYWAYS

i got john doe coming trust me.

TITLE : stupid sea

HHEHE ALR!

Platonic Headcanons

He hates sirens. Or so he says. Especially the ones who sing sailors to their deaths. He sees them as manipulators. Liars. Monsters.

The only reason he didn’t slice you the moment he saw your fins was because you looked confused instead of smug.

You didn’t try to lure him with a song, just stared at him with tilted curiosity. That pissed him off more.

Despite his grumbling, he didn't leave. And you kept showing up. Humming softly. Splashing water at his boots.

“Stupid sea witch,” he’d mutter.

First Meeting Headcanons

He was on deck, cursing at the sea like always, when he caught a flicker of movement in the waves—you.

His instinct was to draw his harpoon. Sirens kill pirates. End of story.

You just blinked at him, half-submerged, eyes wide and strangely unthreatening. You didn’t sing. You just smiled.

“Tch. A mute one? Great.” He walked away, expecting you to disappear.

The next day you were there again. And the next. And the next. He started yelling at the ocean less.

Getting Along Headcanons

You brought him a shell once. A tiny thing, blue and spiraled. He threw it overboard. Ten minutes later, he dived in to get it.

You started mimicking his expressions. When he scowled, you scowled. When he smirked, you tried it too. That got him to laugh once. Just once.

He pretended to ignore you every time you trailed the ship, swimming alongside. But you noticed how his eyes flicked to you. Often.

He told the crew you were a “nuisance that refuses to drown.” But if any of them insulted you? He got violent.

You finally sang once. Soft, not for power, not to lure—just a lullaby. He didn’t sleep that night. He stared at the stars, wondering what the hell was happening to him.

Realizing He Has Feelings

The day you got injured by a net, he panicked. No one saw it. But he pulled you up, cursed, and tended your wounds with trembling hands.

You bit his hand once, playfully. He yelled at you. But then rubbed the bite mark like it meant something.

He started bringing you things. Not flowers he's not soft like that. But weapons, trinkets, buttons, coins. “Shut up and take it,” he'd bark.

One day he saw your reflection in the water, smiling up at him. His chest tightened. He almost slipped off the railing.

He began to hate every siren except you. And that scared him more than anything else.

How He Confesses

It wasn’t romantic. It was a growled, frustrated, “I should hate you.”

You tilted your head, like always. So he grabbed your chin and snapped, “But I don’t. And I hate that more.”

He stared at you for a long moment, eyes burning like fire against the cool ocean. Then he grunted.

“You’ve ruined me, fishy. I hope you're proud.”

He handed you his favorite blade. Rusted, old, but meaningful. “You ever leave me? I’ll dive down and find you.” It was a threat. It was a vow.

Romantic Headcanons

He lets you braid his hair now. Or decorate his hat with seashells. He growls, but never stops you.

You swim beside the ship constantly. He keeps pace with you from the deck, always watching. If you disappear under the waves for too long, he panics.

When you kiss him (on land or when you pull him underwater), he tastes salt and strangely fish-. He always ends up flustered, muttering curses under his breath.

He holds you tighter than necessary when he hugs you, arms banded around you like you might vanish into foam.

He calls you things like "my wave" , "my starfish" , or still "sea witch" but now it's more of a playful name than anything else.

CAN YOU TELL I LOVE JOHN DOE??

i love him bro he is my fav <33

[art-by-jas]

(18+ only) nsfw alphabet– John Carter

A/N: This is only about s1-mid s4 because I'm only that far into ER, but I wanted to write this. So my views might change after S4, and I'll have to redo this. Enjoy; hopefully, this is spot on. Don't be afraid of dming me or commenting.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Carter is really fucked out exhausted after having sex, regardless of what you two do. It takes him a moment to come back to earth before he gets into action to clean you up and fetch you a glass of water. You find it so adorable how his hair is so unruly after fooling around. Which leads you to press soft kisses along his freckled cheeks and nose.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part on himself would be his eyes, given how much you compliment him on them. Every time you mention his eyes, he blushes deeply and smiles, making the creases around his eyes more pronounced, which you, of course, comment on.

His favorite body part of yours is probably your tits, which he would jokingly answer. However, if he’s being honest, he would say it’s your smile. He adores the way your smile lights up your face, and he loves that he can make you smile with a silly pun or when he clumsily knocks into something, sending it crashing to the ground.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He loves coming inside you; sometimes he can barely hold on before the end, so he has to think of procedures and surgeries to hold off on his orgasm. He doubles his efforts to make you come, playing with your clit, playing with your tits, and sucking on your neck. Anything to get you to come first or at the same time, so he can time it.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s been thinking about pegging, but whenever he wants to bring it up to you,. He’ll just look at you, and his face heats up imagining it, and he loses his confidence.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

(S1-4!Carter)

He’s been around the block quite a bit so far, so I’d say he’s pretty experienced. Now, do I think he knows everything? No. He knows the basics, I would say, but hey, I’m sure you can teach him new things he’ll never forget anytime soon.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl. He goes feral when you’re riding him. Just the feel of you on top of him, he’ll grip onto your thighs and waist and toss his head back. He’s in heaven. He also likes doggystyle; he loves the way your ass jiggles every time his hips slap against it.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Carter is adorable and such a goober, unless you are right about to come. At the start, he’ll keep doing little things to make you laugh, but when your climax is near, he’ll talk you through it or just let out a series of punched out sounding moans.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I don’t think he’s hairy at all; he’s very smooth. Shaves frequently, keeping it nice and neat.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

His face is buried in your neck, puffing hot breath against your skin. His arms are wrapped tightly around you or gripping you. Anyway, the more he can touch you, the better he feels.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He’s fine at work; he wouldn’t have to jerk off. He can be an adult and wait until he’s home. Now, if you come to visit him while he’s on shift. Oh, you better believe he’s hitting the bathroom and rubbing one out.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise Kink

Loves tights/fishnets

Dirty Talk

Exhibitionist (Slightly; when you two have a quickie in the hospital, HE LOVES SAYING, “Oh, you better keep quiet; or do you want them to hear you getting fucked hard?”

Biting

Scratching

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

At home. So he can lay you out and take his time, and for you and him to be as loud as you guys want.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Literally anything with him. He’s like a teenager; anything you do will have him biting his lip, and his cheeks are red. He notices your oral fixation every time you’re writing; you bite the top of the pen, and it has him zoning out.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No is no. If you are not comfortable with it, then neither is he. You two will have a talk if either wants to try something new to make sure you are both on board.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He’s pretty 50/50 on this, where he loooooves receiving, but that doesn’t mean he thrives in making your thighs shake as he’s eating you out.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s a slow starter, but once he gets going, he’s fast and relentless.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

If you’re visiting him at the hospital, it almost always ends with him taking you by the hand and trying to quickly find an empty room so you two can have a quick fuck.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Carter will act surprised when you suggest something more kinky, but he is always down to try anything at least once. He got low-key into choking, not BIG into it, but feeling your hand around his neck made his heart flutter and his eyes roll back.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I’d say he can go about 2 rounds before he has to stop fucking you, but he has a mouth and fingers for a reason, so if you want to keep going, he’s not going to stop just because he’s still recovering.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

You introduce him to toys in the bedroom; I don’t think any of his previous girlfriends were into toys. You have a few toys inside your bedside table. One time, you leave it open, and Carter sees it and asks about them. It leads to you teaching Carter about pressing your little vibrator right to your clit and slowly circling it. The result has you arching your back and Carter looking at you with an amazed look in his eyes while his face feels like it’s on fire.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

You are the one who teases and torments him, he would claim. Always saying dirty little things to him right before you leave him after visiting him at the hospital. One time, you told him you were wearing the expensive lingerie set he bought for you for your birthday under your outfit. You kissed him goodbye and left County, leaving Carter stunned, standing there, eyes widening.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Pathetic whining, moaning, grunting, and broken sentences.

“Oh. oh, fuck, yes, y-yes… Please, please… Oh, you f-feel so good. You’re so tight. I’m not gonna last.”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I feel like he’d have a checklist of every room in the hospital you two fucked in. He’s making it his mission by the time he finishes residency in the ER to have fucked in every room.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He is PACKING. The man has a great dick. It’s part of the wonderful package that is Carter; he’s smart, funny, clumsy, and has a big dick.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I think you guys match. There are days he just wants to snuggle, and then there are days he can barely keep his hands off of you. Vice versa.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After he takes care of you and makes sure you’re okay and cleaned up. He gathers you close and has you lie on his chest or spoons you and just nods off.

Masterlist

[yu-shins]

Bean reader going out for a drink in the lake, BOOM GOT CAPTURE BY animal kidnappers, what the forsaken gang would do in your opinion ?

Survivors

Elliot : Bro will be so panicked when the little fat creature goes missing, will blame Shedletsky for not being able to take care of you.

Totim : "Wha bean?" If SPAWN says the fat creatures must be protected then they will kill whoever kidnaps em

Shedletshi : Bro is responsible for the disappearance of our beloved bean >:((

Chence : Bro will gamble whether they die or survive, Elliot kills him after that.

Taph : 😰😱💥🤯😭🥹

Noob : Feeling anxious like Elliot because you really helped lift their depression in this hellish game. Feel sad :'(

Guest 1337 : Bro will find where you are, no matter if you were kidnapped by the killers he will solo the killers in their base just to get you back >:D

Builderman :. At first he didn't really care about your presence because he needed to think about a strategy for the next round. But after that he melted and loved you (when he squezzing you), panicked when you disappeared.

My glorius king 007n7 :. He really likes you, but he doesn't know what to do, he can't join the others to help find you (yall know his reputation there//poor man). So he did everything he could with his c00lguy to look for you :'(

Bonus :P

1eggs4 : BRO, he's the one who kidnapped you when Shedletsky was too busy eating his chicken. Seeing how Shedletsky is on your side makes him think that you could be that smelly fatty's weakness. Because there's no way a Shedletsky would want to take care a fat creature like you NO WAY-

Now he is the one who takes care of you, eugh

(you are so squezz he can't stand it)

John Doe :. Seeing 1x bring a fat bean to the killers' cabin confused him, but he didn't care. He let you fall asleep on his chest and you liked it because it was soft and warm!

C00lkid :. HAPPY THAT 1X 'FOUND' A NEW FRIEND FOR HIM, YEAYYAYAYAYA

Jason : Kiki mama??

Sorry guys, I'll close/turn off the requests for now :'<

[elmushterri]

(For your Robin Hood) this is sort of random but do you have any ideas for like the *closest* Robin has ever got to dying? Times where people got actually sort of close to killing him? Also: in that situation, how did he react? You've mentioned how he's kind of willing to do anything to bring down the crown/achieve his goals, how does he react death actually feels like a possibility? :D

Currently, I beliiieve

When the show starts, Robins nearest-to-death moment would’ve been the explosion in the attack, what caused his hearing loss, burned him etc.

But at some point I believe he’d be attacked by either Guy Gisbourne or Lucy Locksley, and perhaps shot before getting away. He’d be incredibly angry and just try his best to keep his eyes open and do anything to stay alive, find Little John etc.

But in the later show, Lucy definitely gets very very near to killing Robin before he confesses who he is to her just to stop her. He doesn’t care if Lucy has closure on her brothers death. He just needs to live.

CONTENT WARNING: VIOLENCE/DRAWN BLOOD ⚠️

Lucy decides to kill Robin with her bare hands and he’s about to pass out from being beaten so he decides dropping his biggest secret is the better than death before his goal was accomplished. Lucy doesn’t get confirmation before he’s out so she just has to call 999 (Britain’s 911) and find out.

[2kiran]

I don't know if you are still doing the 3K event, but if you are, can I please request subbot!John Price and domtop!m!reader with prompt O3.(be a good slut f'me and bend over, yeah?) and prompt 02. (take it - fucking take it.) if you don't mind? Maybe reader and Price are in a meeting and Price decides to be a brat and trys teasing reader under the table so after the meeting reader drags Price back to his room and teaches him a lesson?

JOHN PRICE X TOP!READER

prompts, three + two

John Price, the legendary captain that brought in an equally legendary task force. An attentive, calculated man whose needs are given to him without complaint. As much as he likes to simply receive, he prefers to take. The opportunity that built this particular moment was too tempting not to seize. Men and women surrounded the table, with him next to you. All of them were distracted, focused on the discussion, so where’s the harm?

He nods along, stretching one arm towards your lap. You tense up when you feel a hand palm your groin, hissing when you realize it was Price. Looking at him would raise potential suspicion, so you kept your outward attention on the person who was speaking. His palm rubbed in a circle, quick and short-lived. You manage to mask a surprised grunt with a cough, his fingers locking and squeezing you through your pants.

You’re about to rut into him until he takes his hand away. There’s a smug smirk tugging at his lips as he pats your thigh, returning to crossing his arms. This man. He’s skin-deep into trouble.

“What’s wrong?” Price questions.

You hurriedly pulled him to his feet right when the meeting was over, ignoring the confused glances that your colleagues gave you.

He knew what was wrong. The bastard’s heart skipped streams, excitement drumming an erratic melody in his system. Your grip on his wrist was firm, giving him the best bite of pain that’s out of the range of his imagining ability. “C’mon,” His legs struggle to maintain your pace, breath coming quick, “Answer me.”

Price doesn’t register that he’s in his own quarters until you spin him around to face his bed. Heat spreads through him, rushing south. He bites his bottom lip, a shudder ripping through him.

“Shut up.” The familiar clink of your buckle giving way has him itching to look at you. “What were you trying to do earlier, huh?” He whines at your tone, interrogative and so fucking mean. “Tryin’ to get my dick wet in front of everyone?”

“I d-don’t know what you’re—”

“Quiet.” You demand, stepping closer to him and he’s reduced to full irrationality. “Be a good slut f’me and bend over, yeah?”

His feet stutter into a few strides, acting faster than he’s able to make sense of it all. Vision darkening, his body cognizes a single purpose and it was to obey. He bunches up the sheets, no thoughts in his head as he leans over the mattress. Ass tilted upwards, feeling bare in spite of his clothing remaining intact. His cock throbs, a yelp tumbling from his lips when you yank his hips towards you. “Fuck me already,” he whines, the bubble of stubbornness exploding into a puddle of eager submission.

You don’t get to remind him when he mutters out, “Please.”

That was all that was necessary. You help him slip out of his clothes, the air caressing his sensitive skin sparks a shiver that you catch. “Where’s the—” He immediately interjects, “N-no. Use spit.” Nasty, but it would suffice. He makes haste to bring up your hand to his face, taking in two fingers. Drool piles on the floor of his mouth, his tongue pushing to coat the digits. “Mmm..” he moans, drawing them deeper with little sucks.

His saliva leaks out, dripping to your wrist. Slowly, you retract them and one finds his rim. He soothes his breathing, releasing a trembling sigh when you painstakingly thrust that finger in, rocking until he’s no longer struggling in spasms. He grunts, driving himself backwards to have you knuckle-deep, offering him a second one appreciatively. “Giv’ me it- nnnfg, that’s an order.”

“Give you what?” You spread the digits, opening him up more for you.

“Your, ah, cock. Please, want it so bad.”

Not one to disobey a direct order—not today, at least—you slide them out and fish yourself out of the confinements. Your dick swelled from the sight, wet tip circling around his hole. “Sure you can handle it?”

Before he’s able to bark out another command, you sheathe an inch into him. “Y-you—Fuuuck-” He groans, body working to lead you out, but you’re persistent. He’s throbbing around you, desperate to rut against the silky covers. Remembering your insistent instructions, he focuses his energy on relaxing. Breath after breath, face warm and sensitive. His head shook in a nod, incapable of finding the words to permit you.

Drawing your hips out, he nods again. “Oh, oh ngh!” He whimpers when you sink into him, rolling your hips until your cock is completely enveloped by his clutching warmth. Whining, his back arches as he lowers his upper body to the bed. Chest pressed to the mattress, resting his head on his forearms as he aches for the bind of release to snap at your will.

His ass is raised, jolting with each pound, practically urging him to break. “Still gonna act like a needy whore, huh?” You grip his waist, tight and bruising which offers him the constant reminisce of pain. “Gghf, ‘m-m sorry,” He shudders, clenching, “won’t do it again, ha-aah, I’m sorry.”

John Price, a man composed of muscle and earned achievements, lessened into a cock-drunk bitch. He begins to babble out whines, his speech incoherent as his brains tangle into jumbled wires. You faintly pick up on a few words switching from ‘slower, 's too much’ to ‘more, p-please, harder’. Tears pool within his eyes, and he attempts to blink them away.

“Take it,” You grunt, grinding deep into him, “fucking take it.”

He gasps, his dick twitching and yearning for a release. Fuck, he is taking it. So well, and so beautifully too. He hums in agreement, letting out a strangled cry. “M-mhm,” he huffs, small ah’s slipping from his bitten lips. John Price was in for a long night.

[bunnyinvanilla]

What if for dads bsf, he comes on a family trip to the beach with you and your father.

You in your bikini, the sneaked glances when your dad isn't looking. MAYBE have him apply sunscreen on you!

dadsbf!old man john price in his late 40s n young, innocent sweet fem!reader who’s 21

you’ve always been a mountain lover, sunny countryside and green lavish trees filled you with the warmest joy, but just like he would any other summer, your dad has forced you to come to the beach with him, stating that ‘vitamin d is important’, but what convinced you is that you can just lay down, read your book and sip chill cold cocacola in peace, especially since your dads best friend john price is coming with you

laying happily under the cozy shadow of a colorful umbrella, heart shaped glasses and a book in your hand, your reading is cradled by the gentle hum of the wind moving through the waves, but you find it hard to focus on the lines on the paper as your eyes keep moving towards him — his muscular, buff, hairy chest is wet, burly and decorated with a few scars, his dark, graying hair and beard kissed by the sun as he shook his head, thin drops of water falling over the sand.

you take a shaky breath, feeling your cheeks grow warm and red, brighter than the sun, and quickly look away, blushing hard and feeling bad for staring so much — but gosh, he’s the most attractive man you’ve ever seen, so bulky and mature, aged in the most handsome way.

you toss over the towel, shifting position and continuing reading, already too caught up in the book to notice the looming and lurching shadow above you, that covered the sun rays — you tilt your head, and there he is, bundle of muscles, thick beard and intimidating, pure masculine energy.

“enjoying your book, love?” he asks playfully, his voice rough and low, quirking his brow as he let his eyes travel down your figure, shamelessly staring over your legs and adorable, vintage style bikin, all frills and ribbons — he sets his warm eyes back on your face, “what are you reading, Lolita?”

your cheeks are burning like flames, and you feel like you’re steaming with the hot air around you “m not, sir,”

he only laughs, a short, deep chuckle, before he tilts his head towards the water behind him “not gonna take a swim, doll?”

“dont think so, haven’t put on sunscreen yet..” you nibble on your bottom lip, head elsewhere, before you reach out to heap your bottle of coke “was waiting for someone to help me open this, can you help me sir, please?”

you give him big, doe eyes, your puffy lips parted slightly as your dolly features look up at him with such a tender, innocent look he needs to ignore how uncomfortable and suddenly tight his wet shorts feel.

“of course, doll face,” he takes it from your hands, opens it with a tiny, effortless twist of his large hand and hands it over to you, giving you a slight wink — you flame up under his gaze, and quickly bring the bottle up to your lips, mumbling a shy “thank you, sir”

the first sip is the best one, cold and frizzy bubbles running down your throat as you savor them — you let your eyes mindlessly set on him as you drink, almost choking with the coke when you notice how his own sharp ones are stuck on your lips wrapped around the bottle.

you swallow, placing the bottle down — your dad is swimming cluelessly back in the sea, near the limit of the string of buoys marking the swimming area, out of sight and of reach.

“need me to put sunscreen on you, princess, can’t have your delicate skin get burned now,” he says it almost like a command, stating it like you don’t have a voice in the matter and that makes your heart flutter — he brings his authoritative, caring and dominating attitude everywhere he goes, even when he’s not working, he’s a soldier in control of his surroundings inside and outside of the field.

“don’t wanna bother you sir, but thank you, alright..” you just blink, carefully placing your book down next to you and laying on the sandy towel, practically giving and serving yourself to him. he almost grunts at the sight, you, so young, too young, sweet and modest in your bikini, always dainty and refined.

“never bother me, sweet girl, stay still for old price, good girl” he grips — yes, grips — the sunscreen hardly and bends over one knee, applying it on both hands before starting to smear it over your skin, your arms, your legs and then your thighs. you almost gasp at the contact, his hands have always looked calloused, rough and scarred, like sandpaper, but they feel so good, warm and large against your skin.

he remains silent as he lower his hands and gently squeezed your thighs, a silent request, which you immediately followed by parting your thighs to him, still laying on your back — his hands apply the sunscreen on your inner thighs, close to where you ache the most, where you want him, but your bashfulness prevents you from addressing this need.

his thick fingers distractedly brush over your clothed clit, making you let out a soft, tiny sound, that sounded like a strangled whine and a little sigh — his eyes shoot out, completely and utterly in control, but when he spreads more cream next to your needy spot, you involuntarily buck your hips against his hand, making him clench his jaw and mutter down a restrained, growly “careful, doll, be a good girl and don’t move, said stay still”

you swallow back your embarrassment, your cheeks red and bright, whole face on fire as he shifts his hands on your tummy, caressing it and smearing more white cream on your flat chest, between your tiny, small boobs that are raising and falling with every hard breath.

“feel good, doll?”

you nodded, unable to say anything, but you wanted him to kiss you, to just take you however he pleased “yessir”

“good, on your tummy f’me now, come on” he pats your leg, and you quickly turn around, closing your eyes when you feel his large hands on your back, applying your cream — you arch your back against his fingers, earning a deep, amused chuckle from him.

“look at you, love, stretching yourself like a bunny, huh?”

you nod again, but this time, your eyes shoot open when you feel his thick mustache and beard pressed against the skin of your shoulder, pressing a light, small and tickling kiss — he lowers his hand and playfully pats your bottom, caressing it before drifting back. “done, love, all nice and safe.”

you’re left like this, blushing and wide eyed, watching him take a sip from your bottle of coke, and you can’t help but let your romantic mind think this is an indirect kiss.

[tojisun]

john price x f!reader; my uh my take on dad!price and nanny!reader; affair/infidelity

hand on the small of your back; thumb rubbing softly on your skin, feeling the dip of your spine, the pudge of your fat; scruff on your cheek, hearing him breathing you in.

“not here,” you murmur, voice quiet and breathy, but john doesn’t budge – you don’t push him away, anyway. you don’t think that you will ever have the power to.

john just rumbles, still nosing you and teasing, and you burn at the ripples of his desire because you want him back. god, you want him back, but—

“john?”

your heart stops, your lungs pinching as the horror chases the fire away and replaces the fever he etched into you with a permeating chill. but john just pulls away slowly, careful and not disjointed like it didn’t matter that he was just caught rubbing onto you, and turns to jenny with such soft smile, it crinkles his eyes.

“sweetheart,” john sings, reaching for her. she steps beside him, her pinched lips easing up just a bit but the furrow of her brows are still deep trenches.

you bite your cheeks, trying to feign ignorance of her knowing gaze.

“what are you…” she trails off.

john hums, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “she was telling me about little tim. seems like our boy really loves his new nanny.”

“really?” jenny asks, face smoothing over in delight and pure faith. you understand where she’s coming from – mr. price had that effect on everyone. he is so charismatic and charming and so capable that one just abandons suspicion and trusts him.

“oh, i’m so glad to hear that,” mrs. price says, and she’s not really upset anymore but you know that after tonight, you will never truly be free from her lingering doubts. but—

john had promised to take care of you; to spoil you; to love you the way, he said, you deserve to. and you love him. god, you love him, so you know that in spite of the friction with mrs. price, you will stay and you will not stop nuzzling into the hand that finds their purpose around your throat.

you give them a nod. “i should, uh, check on him.”

she hums while john watches on, smoulder in his eyes and his cheeks round with a small smile just so.

oh, you realize with a jolt. he likes this.

getting caught, having to explain to his wife, having to watch you swim past the quiet doubts – john likes this. the thrill of it all, the adrenaline it brings.

you meet his eyes straight-on, chest heaving.

i know, you want to tell him. i know what it is that you want, and i can give it to you.

john’s eyes narrow, his interest growing like waves lapping at your feet, and he only graces you with an even bigger smile before folding himself into mrs. price. it is a taunt. a bait.

and you swim to it, knowing what will come out of this.

(he fucks you in their ensuite, his palm pressing on your mouth to muffle your squeals.

“not too loud, little bird,” he grunts. “can’t be caught again. not yet, anyway.”

your cunt pulses around his cock, devouring so hungrily at the hissed promise.

not yet – this won’t be over just yet; you’ll still have him for a while.

thank you, you want to say. thank you, thank you, thank you.)

—————

obligatory “i dont condone this” note :D

…that said, this is pt 03 of writing cheater price. dunno why i fw this trope but i do n its delicious i fear

[deadghosy]

HAZBIN HOTEL X ROBLOX NOOB! READER

prompt: your best friend John Doe hacked you into a universe where hell is much different in your mind

“OOF-” you said as you press the buttons on your ps5. A portal opens as blocky person with yellow skin exits out of the portal looking at you. “JD!” You said with a “:P” face. “noob…you get to get out the house more…” John Doe said with a static voice as he picked up your bloxy body and thrown you into a portal as you kept smiling

“:) yay I’m falling.” You said out loud as you felt yourself fall in the air. You fell but landed on your feet like always. You look around to see that it smell like must, ass, and most importantly fire. You walked around just smiling as demons and sinners looked as if you were some weirdo…..

You came across the hotel and applied for a job to be the schedule manager. You got a red outfit to match vaggie and Charlie as you grab a flat board and started to write who gets to do what.

Noob! Reader is the type to pull out a cannon out of fucking no where and fuck someone’s life up🦆(a/n: pinkie pie type shit)

I can see Alastor watching you do a r6 dance as he just looked at you weirdly with a strained smile. You literally said out loud “/E DANCE!” And started to dance 😭

Lucifer got scared because he accidentally let you dove off a roof…but you respawned with a blue force field around you making Lucifer think you were an angel.

You love the egg boiz as they love you too! You do color sheets with them as Pentious brings you guys some cookies like a mom💗

You had onetime pulled a chainsaw out because husk said he needed to get a haircut on his fur. You literally pullled it out of no while husk jolted looking at your crazed face as you reved it up.

“You said you needed a hair cut!!” “I SAID HAIR CUT! NOT END MY LIFE YOU FUCKER!” Husk yells back as you chase him smiling like “:D” with the chainsaw. It was giving scooby doo as you kept chasing him.

Lucifer would be weirded out with Noob as noob just sticks their tongue out like the :P face while Lucifer pokes you curious about your game like box body.

I imagine noob! Reader showing Charlie a picture of bacon hair boy who is doing orange justice in the back. “Oh is that your friend?” Charlie says with a nervous smile at how your friend’s hair literally looks like bacon or is. You nodded excitedly as you wave your phone happily at bacon hair boy.

You blasted “it’s raining tacos” outside of the Vee’s tower when learning your friends had opps in there. So you wanted to annoy them.

This lasted for 2 days until vaggie had found you and took you home as you screamed out the song LOUD AND PROUD

I can imagine Lucifer making you a duck hat that says “don’t duck with me!” It’s so cute 🦆

I headcannon noob!reader to be the most dangerous being in hell as they literally been to every other gun and fighting game of the roblox universe.

NOOB SOLOS‼️‼️🔥

You know those badass Roblox games with those cool combat moves? That’s what you use. 🤨

You grabbed a sinner’s face and run dragging their body in the ground with a smile. You lifted your arm and swing them around as they flew to who knows where as the crew behind you had an either shocked or entertained face.

One time Charlie and you were shopping in a mall and you peaked over the boarder to keep people from falling. “I wonder if I can die from this height.” “NOOB NO-” that’s when you had to get a kid leash on you anytime you go out with the staff.

It was a nice day as Angel was throwing knives to increase his skills. You walked by him curiously grabbing two knives and throwing them at the same time. Making it hit the bullseye as Angel looked at you shock.

“Whoa kid, how did you learn to do that?” Angel asked pulling out the knives you made in the bullseye. “I was murder once!” You said with a happy smile as you walked away. Angel dust has the most confused face ever(picture below)

I headcannon noob!reader to be like Kirby. So like noob pulls out a knife to be murder, and then they could pull out a gun as Sheriff✨🦆

“Pew pew pew” you said as you stood on the balcony of the hotel as you shot at random sinners. Alastor appeared behind you confused but laughs at the misery of the sinner running when a missed shot almost killed them.

One time Angel gave you a Tommy gun not suspecting you know how to use it….you literally started to blast sinners away-

You SHOT AN OLD LADY ALSO😨

yeah Angel never gave you his Tommy gun ever again.

As you stayed in hell, you didn’t know that you would be spied on by the angels as Adam laughs at how chaotic and naive you are.

You’re so use to bullshit in Roblox you just stand there like “🧍🏾” as shit goes on. Literally when Charlie was panicking when the extermination was due in 6 months

During a uno game you ate a card as husk was trying to win but forfeited in anger as you screamed out uno. Leaving the missing card out of your mouth….it got quiet so quick as husk chased after you.

Niffty finds you amazing as you both have crazed tendencies. You both literally cause made chaos around places 🤭

YOU USE YOUR ADOPT ME SCAMMING SKILLS TO SCAM PEOPLE 😭😭 I CAN SEE THIS

The overlords are confused when they see Lucifer bring you to a meeting for once. You just sat there eating a taco. “Ello.” You said waving your blocky arm at them.

When watching the horror movies with the crew, you don’t react at all with Alastor as you been in lots of horror games with that one guy named Guest…you miss home and him.

I headcannon that you once accidentally summoned John Doe because you sneezed and he literally stood there as you hugged him. The rest of the crew was confused thinking he was your brother.

[0coffeeplease0]

BOOOOOOO

did I scare you

Anyways a headcanon about the forsaken crew ( can be survivors or killers or both I ain't complaining) reacts to a stretchy reader (example: plastic man,luffy,Elastigirl,mister fantastic)

-by Mr bobby

Sure :D BTW I don't know if it's what you expected😭 *I said as Y/N stretched her arm out and dragged me to an asylum*

Forsaken Survivors + Killers x Stretchy GN Reader

Note: idk :p ooc characters

Warnings: None unless you are uncomfortable about people being stretchable ig, SWF/Fluff

●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●●

Survivors

Noob

•Noob would think that your ability is so cool, but he is a bit worried that you might stretch your arm to try and snatch his food away.

•Noob is grateful that you have that ability due to you saving his life multiple times when he was at the brink of death.

•He would definitely try to convince you to play pranks on the others, of course he would plan them and you would do them.

•He wonders if he can use you as a jumping rope...

•Noob would stay by your side on rounds, especially when he is in high spaces, if he is ontop of somewhere high he will use you as a parachute to escape the killer as he had fractured some of his bones from jumping off from one of the tall buildings in a map

Elliot

•He'd be a bit freaked out especially when you can stretch yourself and make yourself look like some human worm.

•Elliot had once stepped on you but he hadn't noticed because you were on the floor, stretched out like some carpet. It wasn't then that he looked down and noticed you.

•In round Elliott didn't have to worry much about following you to give you a pizza, he knows that you will stretch one of you arms out to get a pizza. Even if you were far away form where he was.

•Elliot would make you clean the higher places of the cabin since he wasn't that tall to clean the windows that were 10 feet above.

•Elliot isn't one to care about how the cabin looks but he wants to keep some sort of decency.

Guest 1337

•This man does not give a flying f#$% about your ability, he finds it useful but he dosent care.

•The only time he would talk to you was to ask you to turn into a rope to keep the killer down for a few seconds.

•He has tripped because of you multiple time either because you were stretching your hand out to get some pizza from elliot while you were far away, or because you were setting something up.

Chicken man/Shedletsky

•He dosent know how to feel about this.

•He thinks your cool.

•Would abuse your ability and make you bring things to him, if you are kind person, he will ask you to bring things to him, like a chicken in the fridge, a soda ect.

•In one of the rounds as he was fighting with 1eggs, he was getting whooped badly, but thankfully you had stretched your arms out and managed to drag him away from that danger.

Builderman

•He likes you.

•He thinks you're decent.

•Finds your ability very useful.

•in round he would make you stand far away from him while he builds a machine if a killer is about to take him your arms would reach out for him and bring him to your current location making enough time for you both to flee.

Chance

•Cool.

•He dosent really interact much with you.

•Chance would still remember the time you had saved him in one of the rounds. He was flipping his coin but luck wasn't on his side for some reason, and he was now at Weakness XX and he had rolled the dice but he was so unlucky that his health was at 74, and bad enough John doe was the killer.

•The way you had saved him was when John Doe was about to strike at him but you had stretched out your arm and grabbed him by the waist and threw him like a damn baseball towards Elliot and the others so he would stay safe.

•He appreciates ur ability.

Two time

Idk

Dusekkar

Idk

007n7

IDK😓

Killers

1x1x1x1

•They hate you and despise you!

•Because of you they can barley kill any survivors without your stretchy arms snatching them away before he could kill them!

•She is annoyed by you.

John Doe

•He will get angry and frustrated, just let him kill his victims without you taking Thema way before you could take away their life >:(

•He will start targeting you first.

c00lkid

•He gets annoyed that you take away his victims once he will kill them.

•He wonders if you can be a trampoline...

Jason

•dosent care

Mafioso(redisign)

•He would get frustrated by you, he was about to end Elliots life but you had intervene and managed to save the boy.

•Would send his goons to get you first but they always came back to him empty handed and bruised.

Ending note: :) idk