#Accidental french slur

[duncanor]

Saw someone on Twitter call Vash "The Pede" (short for Stampede) and I can't stop laughing because this is literally the French equivalent of the F-slur lmaoo

[driftwooddestiel]

gotta do my french speaking assessment todayyyyy woo…

[ceridescent]

mommy’s got you — m., wanda

wanda maximoff! x female!reader

summary: wanda helps you de-stress.

tags: smut and fluff

warning/s: dom/sub dynamics, md/lg, mommy kink, praise, vaginal fingering, breast play, slapping, dumbification, & aftercare.

word count: 1, 727

author’s note: dedicating this to all the stressed, drained, and burnt out college girlies! 🫡 go get them degree lovelies 😝

18+ only. men and minors DNI.

masterlist | navigation

“mommy’s going in now, sweetheart,” wanda’s velvety voice rings in your ears as she pushes her middle finger in slowly, sloshing their way into your hole. a deep breath you exhaled, closing your eyes, relishing the feeling of her slender fingers and the crisp of them. “is this okay, moya lyubov?”

you hum, unable to speak, your mind cloudy, the words and phrases dying out. “just relax, okay? i’m here,” wanda reassures whilst she rubs her thumb against your clitoris, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from your drying throat. you bob your head in understanding, giving her full permission.

“midterms sucked ass, huh? my poor little thing,” she cooes, “you’re so exhausted. your body was so stiff and tense when i gave you a massage!” your mommy squeezes your inner thigh for emphasis, coming off slick and wet with your juices. “but they’re placid now,” she licks her lips, “so thick and flowy, my baby.”

wanda had been teasing you since dinner time, coming home to the smell of the classic french bouillabaisse you had been wanting to make for a while. distorted and exhausted from the last hour of your midterms, your girlfriend made sure to congratulate you and pamper you for being a committed college student. wanda provided you everything, from the dining utensils to spoiling you with her undivided attention.

placing her hand on your thigh, playing with the hem of your skirt, whilst asking about the taste of her cooking. she never once mentioned about your studies, aware that it’ll worry you more. when wanda came back to hand you the dessert, she watched intently as you licked and sucked the ice cream clear off the spoon, squeezing your inner thighs and massaging them, her patience running thin.

when you fought hard (weakly due to being drained) to deal with the dirty dishes, she let you, but not without accidentally (purposely) brushing her hands against your bum, which you believe it was, until wanda pressed herself against you, humping your clothed back.

“‘m so tired, mommy,” you slur, her words floating inside your clouding brain. your dozing eyes slowly flutters close, heavy lidded eyes begging you to shut down. but wanda, your darling woman, has to release the stress corrupting your body before anything else follows. it will make you feel better, relaxed, somnolent. she leaves a chaste kiss on your flushed cheeks, sighing in content and concern.

“i know, my little one. mommy knows you’re so tired by working so hard, my good girl,” she hums, gliding her hand along the plane of your stomach, electrifying your skin. “hence the fancy homemade dinner, the yummy dessert you enjoyed, and now this,” wanda’s voice turns muffled as she peppers your tummy with kisses, making them wet and warm as much as possible. “so just lie back, get comfy. let mommy think for you.”

“t-thank you mommy,” you yawn and blink back tears, whimpering as wanda twists your right nipple, observing your reaction like she’s doing an experiment. “one day,” she starts slowly, as if softening a surprise, “mommy will make your nipples come,”

you shiver, your legs shaking at the thought of your mommy playing with your tits, grabbing her hair or her back to ground yourself. “mommy’s going to have so much fun drinking your milk, baby,”

whining, you could only nod your head, small moans coming out of your opened mouth.

“but for now, my baby has to lay back and rest, take mommy’s fingers.”

your girlfriend latches her lips onto yours, moving her tongue against yours in a slow tango. she drinks all your moans and whimpers, pressing you onto the mattress, her fingers penetrating slow as a snail. you can’t complain about it, falling into the abyss, falling into her. your brain clouds all your remaining thoughts but her.

wanda is the only one that keeps you in the present moment, holding you down.

when she pulls away, she’s grinning down at you while biting her lips, nothing but adoration in her eyes. she smacks her lips against your cheeks to interrupt you from dozing, your eyes fluttering close like a butterfly’s wings. it helps a bit, you know, along with her fingers spreading your sopping hole, stretching you out in pleasure.

“feeling much better, my honeybunch?”

you giggle, shaking your head, mewling a little “no.” “no what?” wanda retorts teasingly, lightly slapping your thigh, “is mommy not making you feel better?” halting the motion of her fingers.

“no, mommy, please mommy,” you whine, shaking your head, barely able to lift your hips upwards no matter how strenuous your efforts were. “‘m not honeybunch,”

“what are you then?” wanda huffs, resuming, fastening her pace. “ah!” you scream and fling your hands to hold onto wanda’s wrist, whimpering multiple “mommy”’s. she asks you again, almost breathless. “what are you, huh?”

“‘m mommy’s princess…” you cry, meeting wanda’s fingers as she supports your lower back, pressing them upwards so you can feel her fingers plunging into you deeper.

“mommy’s princess you say…” wanda chuckles, trailing off, her gaze sharpening at the perspiration that falls down the dip in the middle of your stomach. this time she nibbles against your skin, looking up at your pleasured face, preciously distorted and almost there. her own clitoris throbs, wetting her thong, in awe of your half-asleep, baby face.

“who do you belong to, princess?” wanda whines, trailing open-mouthed kisses up your neck, unable to get enough. she could swallow you whole at this point, with her never-ending penetration and wet kisses.

you want to tell wanda it’s her, it’s true, but you can’t, words turning into moans as you try to utter it out of your mouth.

“do you need mommy’s help, princess? tell you who you belong to?”

“gah! mommy! mommy!” you sob, tears cascading down your cheeks, your head reeling like it’s falling apart, your skin scorching, your legs shaking so much. wanda pecks your cheeks, groans erupting from her throat, never messing up her tempo.

“is that a yes, my precious one?” wanda chuckles, watching the mess you have become, having you at the palm of her hand. a particular scream rings inside the bedroom when she thumbs your clit, rubbing it in circles, aware that you’re about to come.

“n-no- no-m-mo-“ you whine and give up on articulating your thoughts and instead you thrust your hips upwards so you can make your mommy hit you harder on your g-spot, but it doesn’t work, and you’re too spent and messed up to find out why.

“say, i belong to mommy. i am mommy’s princess.”

as you nod your head, wanda imitates, “say it, be a good girl,” pounding in her two fingers harder, every thrust your mommy makes a deep moan escapes from her. she drives you into your apex, and when you think it couldn’t get any better, wanda curls her fingers mercilessly, hitting your spot wave after wave like she’s dealing with a punching bag.

“i-i belong to mommy! please, plea- i am m-mommy’s princess!”

wanda lets out an animalistic growl, “that’s right, mommy owns you. mommy owns this pussy,” slapping your pussy, a resounding thwack coming off at the motion, your cries echoing inside the four walls of your shared apartment. it surely is music to wanda’s ears. “mommy owns these gorgeous tits,” wanda strikes them before putting your tits inside her hungry mouth in a tight grip, sucking as loudly as she possibly can, moaning along with the fullness and the noises that you let out. she lets them go with a pop, saliva connecting with the tip and her swollen lips.

smirking as you shake your head, your lower body stilling at the exhaustion, only able to do little thrusts to meet her. she continues, “mommy owns these lips too, both of them,” devouring your cusps in a passionate kiss, harsh and sloppy, at the brink of losing herself in the moment of claiming you.

“mommy!” you sob, “m-mommy!” breathing hotly in wanda’s mouth, coming apart in a perfect arch, blissfully bucking your hips up as she grips tight around your bruising waist, “that’s it, that’s it detka,” mumbling into your mouth in return.

wanda drags it out, cooing and purring words of affirmation as you cried out for her, brushing the strands of hair that blocks your face, tucking them in your ear. “mommy’s here, moy malen'kiy golub'. mommy’s got you,” she whispers against your cheek, exchanging with you a butterfly kiss.

you hum, catching your breath, your eyes no longer awake. wanda peppers your cheeks with light kisses to distract you from pulling her fingers out of your pussy, moaning silently as she loses your warmth. taking her wet fingers to clean off your cum, she clamps around them, savoring the delicious taste of you. “oh, moya lyubov,” she hums in delight.

slowly sliding her hand below to reach for your clammy hand, your mommy unlatches your fingers from the blanket, intertwining your fingers together.

“hi,” she begins timidly, laying herself on top of your naked form, poking your nose with a kiss. you scrunch it in the process, goosebumps flaring from your back down to your stomach. “hi, mommy,” you respond in your little, raspy voice, dizzying.

“moy malysh, you did so good. my sweet, sweet girl, you deserve loads and loads of rest,” wanda rasps in her mommy voice, caressing the crook of your arm with her thumb, nuzzling your jaw. she lets you know her plan to “i’ll pull away for a moment, okay? i don’t want to squeeze moy malysh,” and even so you whine and cry her name, loneliness creeping through.

“i’m here, mommy’s here,” she pacifies you with a purr, occupying her space on top of you, grinning softly as she takes your hand midair and places grumpy bear in your hold.

“grumpie!” you gasp, squeezing the fuzzball, hugging him in your chest. “mommy!” you say in the way she understands your gratitude, mewling at the purity and tenderness of your contentment. “it’s your favorite stuffie, my princess, makes my princess sleep better” she cooes, giving you a peck on the lips.

“thank you, mommy,” you sigh, fluttering your eyes open for a second before completely succumbing to slumber.

“everything for you, moya printsessa,” wanda sighs with a soft smile, watching you sleep, listening to your silent snores.

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 18

Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 |-| Chapter 19

AO3

Summary: As the war comes to a close, the future is brought into focus.

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee @footprintsinthesxnd @dcyllom @storysimp @latibvles @love-studying58 @justheretoreadthxxs @blakelysco-pilot

Dear Mrs Higgins

Thank you so much for the tea set - Robert and I think it's lovely...

Frankie lifted an envelope to her mouth, running her tongue along the glue as she finished writing the latest in a long line of thank-you letters still in order from the wedding. The formal niceties felt foreign to her, even to write, and a pile of crumpled paper covered the floor by her bed where she had tossed away a litany of spelling mistakes. Rosie had offered his assistance many times, but with all the supply drops he'd been running, she had no desire to burden him with anything else.

Just as she finished signing the most recent letter, the door to the hut slammed open, making her jump and accidentally smudge the ink. "Oh, for fuck's sake, do you have to barge in here like the building's on bloody fire?"

"Frankie, turn the radio on," George huffed, striding towards her.

"Yeah, in a minute - I've got to rewrite this one now, so-"

"Now," She pressed, getting down on her knees to rummage beneath Frankie's bed. "Where is it?!"

"Over there on the window ledge," Frankie frowned, watching as George zipped across the room. "What's going on?"

"Churchill's making an announcement."

"Oh, shit-" She muttered, letter writing immediately forgotten as they fumbled to set up the radio, perched side by side on the edge of the bed as they listened closely. They had made it just in time, and as the familiar, slurring voice came echoing over the waves, a sense of importance seemed to settle over the room - one so potent that Frankie's whole body seemed clenched, her heart struggling to beat out its rhythm in time.

"Yesterday morning at 2.41am at General Eisenhower's headquarters, General Jodl, the representative of the German high command and of Grand Admiral Donitz, the designated head of the German state, signed the act of unconditional surrender of all German land, sea and air forces in Europe to the Allied expeditionary force, and simultaneously to the Soviet high command."

She felt George grab her hand. The words didn't quite seem real - how could they? Surely, they had been coming for a long time, and yet their arrival seemed so sudden, that it was as if Frankie were recalling a dream - peering through a veil into a fiction constructed by her subconscious, frozen in place as if any sudden movement might break the illusion.

She pressed her heels harder into the floor beneath her feet. It was solid. Real.

"Our dear Channel Islands will be free tomorrow. Hostilities will end officially ​at one minute after midnight tonight, Tuesday, the 8th of May, but in the interests of saving lives the ceasefire began yesterday to be sounded all along the fronts."

A bark of laughter escaped her, hand rising to clap over her mouth, suddenly embarrassed by the outburst despite being in the privacy of the hut, in the company of no one but her best friend. Beside her, George had begun to chuckle giddily, unable to wipe the grin from her cheeks.

"The German war is therefore at an end. After years of intense preparation Germany hurled herself on Poland at the beginning of September, 1939, and in pursuance of our guarantee to Poland and in common action with the French Republic, Great Britain, the British Empire and Commonwealth of Nations declared war against this foul aggression."

Blood rushed to her ears, the pounding in Frankie's chest so fierce that she almost struggled to hear the broadcast. Her lungs felt full to burst, pressing against her ribs so hard they could snap. Neither woman felt any need to listen further before collapsing into each other's arms, squeezing so forcefully that it hurt. But they didn't care.

There was no one else Frankie wanted to spend this moment with. Not Bucky, not Ken - not even her husband. There was no one she'd spent more of this war alongside than George - no one who had seen her at so many of her worst moments, no one who had brought her through them quite like she had.

This was the first instant they'd ever spent as friends during peacetime. And now they had to decide what that meant.

"I'm coming with you," George's voice came hoarse over her shoulder. "If you're going to New York, then so am I."

"What about Ev?" Frankie chuckled.

She felt her shrug. "He'll come if I tell him to."

Grinning, she held her even tighter. Weren't they all just following Rosie in the end?

"I need to find him," Frankie uttered.

George nodded. "Me too. Different him. Same sentiment."

They didn't let go for a long moment, breathing in synch. Maybe the war had brought them together, but peace was never going to tear them apart.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

An almighty swarm of airmen had gathered outside one of the huts by the time Frankie arrived, having jogged all the way from her own, and the moment she locked eyes on Rosie she was running. Even in the thick of the crowd, his gaze found her without even having to call out, shouldering his way through, beaming so widely that the cool air stung against his teeth. She let out something between a shriek and a whoop, hurling herself into his arms the moment they collided, feet swept off the ground as he spun her once, then twice in the air.

Neither needed to say the words 'it's over' - they knew the other knew, that was good enough. Besides, those words held far too much weight to deal with right now. Those words meant their time here was over - that the future was now.

As Frankie touched the ground again, Rosie's hands cupped her cheeks, littering her face with kisses as she guffawed with laughter. A few of the airmen nearby had taken to whooping and whistling at the sight, and she felt the blood rush to her face, tinting her cheeks a bright red. "Alright, alright," She chuckled, gently batting away his hands as she leaned forward to press a quick peck to his lips.

"Sorry fellas," Rosie called over his shoulder, gaze never leaving his wife for even a moment as he seized her hand, abandoning the makeshift celebration without hesitation.

"We didn't have to go," Frankie pointed out as they walked away, bumping against his side as her free hand wrapped around his arm.

"Well, I wanna celebrate with my wife."

"Oh-ho, say that again," She tittered.

"My wife," He grinned, pressing a firm kiss to her temple. "And when we get outta here I'm gonna buy you a house - hell, I'll buy you anything you want."

"Well, yeah, I'd hope so - we both know I married you for the money," Frankie teased as he ruffled her hair beneath his palm in silent reprisal. They were quiet for a moment until she spoke up again, serious this time. "Dad and the kids don't need me anymore. But... I really loved looking after those kids."

She could feel his stare, fixed on her as they walked. "You been thinking about what you said at the wedding?"

"About a baby? ...Yeah, kinda."

Nerves coloured his voice as he spoke again. "...And?"

Frankie shrugged. "Why not? Yeah."

It hadn't seemed possible that he could grin even wider, and yet somehow he managed it. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," She assured him, pulling him into her embrace as his eyes began to well up with tears. Chin tucked over his shoulder, she let herself begin to grin too. "Yeah, honey."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

George's hair blew this way and that as she walked, palms in an endless battle against the wind to smooth it back down again as she muttered to herself, scanning every group she passed for the face she was searching for. Come on Ev, where are you? Many of the men she worked alongside called out to her as she passed, but she was so focused on the task at hand that she offered nothing but the occasional wave, too distracted to properly reply.

"George!" A familiar voice called, an involuntary smile already creeping across her expression in anticipation before she had even pinned down where it was coming from. But then Blakely was hurrying towards her, engulfing her in an embrace so sudden that it was all she could do not to audibly groan. "Ah, I was lookin' for you."

"Hey!" George chirped, holding him tightly. "I was looking for you! I've got something to ask you."

He seemed to grow slightly tense at this. "Yeah, so do I."

Holding onto her cheery demeanour despite the shift in his, she pulled away. "Okay, you first."

Letting out a nervous chuckle, Everett shook his head. "No, no - after you."

"Okay... Look, it's just..." George took a deep breath, hands clasped tightly. "Frankie and Rosie are gonna go to New York together now that this whole thing is done, and I... I wanna go with her, Ev. She's my best friend."

A wave of relief seemed to wash over him as he began to smile. "You wanna go to New York?"

She shrugged. "Yeah."

Blakely began to laugh. "Babe, we can go to New York."

A grin started to crease at George's cheeks. "Really?"

"Yeah, of course," He beamed.

"Okay. Okay, yeah - now you go," She nodded, passing her weight impatiently from foot to foot.

Suddenly he was nervous again, glancing around at the huts and men around them as if self-conscious. "Alright..."

Her brow furrowed. "... You ok?"

"Yeah, yeah, just... didn't really plan on doing this here."

George's frown deepened, and Everett couldn't help but wonder how she hadn't caught on yet. "D'you wanna... go over there?"

"George," He laughed in exasperation, digging deep into his pocket as he shook his head. The faintest yelp of surprise escaped her as the diamond ring caught its first glint of sunlight, carefully unwrapped from the handkerchief that had protected it on the long journey from his mother's house.

"Oh, I'm a bloody idiot," She whispered. Raising both hands to cover her mouth, she let out a giddy laugh, beaming before he could even ask the question.

Blakely had begun to grin, pointing down at the ring in his palm as he waited for her to stand still. "Can I-?"

"Yes! Yes." George nodded firmly, planting both feet in the gravel below as she waited for him to ask the question.

"George Aarons," He started, suppressing a chuckle as he noticed the way she had begun to fidget impatiently. "Will you marry me?"

"Yes!" She cried, her answer tumbling forth so quickly that she almost cut him off completely, throwing herself into his arms as an elated laugh erupted from her throat. Arms wrapped securely around her back, he swept her off her feet for a moment before pulling away to plant a hard kiss against her lips, palms lifted to cup her jaw.

"I love you," George breathed as their lips separated, faces barely an inch apart.

Everett smiled, pressing his forehead against hers. "I love you too."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Frankie practically screamed when she first caught sight of George, entering the party as it raged in the officers' club, new engagement ring sparkling on her finger. "Holy shit!" She yelped, practically hurling herself at her best friend as she hugged her. Chin tucked tightly in the crook of George's neck, she scanned the crowd for signs of Blakely, pointing a finger as he stopped in his tracks. "You!"

"Me?"

"Thank you for marrying the love of my life," Frankie nodded sagely, gesturing for him to come close so that she could pat him on the shoulder without leaving George.

His brow furrowed slightly. "... So Rosie would be-?"

"My husband. Duh."

"Of course."

Rosie had recognised her yelp from across the bar, burrowing his way through the crowds in search of Frankie. "Ah. Hey! Congratulations!" He grinned as he spied George's ring, giving Blakely an affectionate clap over the shoulder as they shook hands. "Mind if I steal my wife for this next dance?"

"Steal away," Frankie nodded, planting a forceful kiss on George's forehead as she retracted the hug, leaving a lipstick stain in her wake. As the couple weaved their way back through the crowd, Blakely let out a snort of laughter, wiping the stain away with the heel of his palm.

"Is she-?"

"Oh, really quite drunk, yeah," George affirmed.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I never got good at this, huh?" Frankie laughed, uttering a swift apology as she stepped on Rosie's toe. Again.

"Well, I don't think being good is really the point," He shrugged.

"In other words, you agree - I'm horrible at this."

"I didn't say that!"

Frankie gasped. "You're 'yes-dear'-ing me!"

Rosie's brow furrowed, somewhere between confused and entertained. "I don't even know what that means."

"It's when you just go along with whatever I say because I'm your wife and you don't want to have to tell me I'm an insane person to my face."

"Well, I like my crazy wife," He smiled, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek as she hummed a chuckle. They continued to step side to side as the music continued its brisk pace, Frankie's expression twisting with embarrassment as she felt his toe beneath her foot once more, the sight of this making Rosie laugh. "We don't have to keep doing this," He offered between chortles.

"No, I'm gonna do it until I get it right, otherwise I'll get shown up every time we go out," She frowned.

"Then you've gotta do it properly," Rosie said, looking down at the floor as he nudged her feet apart with his own. "Feet like that - you step with this one, then bring them together..."

As he continued to explain, Frankie began to realise that she hadn't been listening to a word, too distracted by... well, him. It was still somewhat embarrassing to admit, but if she stared at him for too long everything else seemed to simply ebb away, his voice fading into background chitter as her gaze traced every subtle movement in his expression, her lip rising in a calm, gentle smile.

For so long, this place had gotten used to firing on all cylinders - always working, always preparing for the next thing - never hesitating, never still. But now? Now there was nothing ahead of her - no planes to prep, no mission to agonise over. She was Just Frankie and he was Just Rosie, and everything else was simply cast aside. It was rare she ever got a moment to simply stop and stare - to take in the man before her and simply bathe in the feeling of how wholly and utterly she adored him.

"No, you've- ...Honey, you've stopped moving."

His voice came into focus once more, and Frankie blinked away her stupor, shaking her head slightly. "... Right."

"You okay?" He asked, brow creasing as he tilted his head slightly, a loose curl tumbling free.

"Mhm," She nodded, reaching up without a second thought to brush it away, her warm fingertips still managing to leave a flush in their wake as they grazed against his skin. "Tired. Little too much whiskey. I'm still working my way through the thank-you letters from the wedding."

"Well, I'll help," Rosie shrugged.

"No, no, you're-" Busy with your missions. The words had nearly slipped out without a second thought. And as a grin began to make its way across his face, she knew he'd predicted them.

"No. I'm not."

"No you're not," Frankie repeated, beginning to mirror his smile. "God, we're about to have way too much free time."

"Well, I can think of a couple things to do," He smirked, making her snort with laughter.

"Shush. We'll do that later. I gotta find Bucky," She beamed, giving his arm a tug as she pulled out of his grip, squeezing his hand as she turned away.

Rosie's brow furrowed. "I thought we were dancing?"

"Later!"

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Flares illuminated the night sky as Bucky sat back in his seat, watching on idly from his perch up on the command tower. Back when this had all started, he would've been inside with the others without a moment's hesitation, drinking and singing and making merry like all the rest. But these last two years had changed him, and that tug in his chest that had once compelled him on nights like this had gone limp.

At least one thing had always stayed the same.

"You fellas need some more booze up there?"

His lip curled in an involuntary smile, craning forward in his seat to peer over the railing. Standing in the grass below, profile brightened in the flickering light of the flares, Frankie stared up at him, a bottle in each hand.

"Get up here, Bevan!" Gale called beside him, letting out that deep, hearty laugh of his. She flashed a grin, the thunder of footsteps rising towards them as she dashed up the stairs, occasionally stumbling from an overindulgence of alcohol.

"Figured you'd be all over your husband tonight, all things considered," Bucky teased, edging over to the edge of his seat so that she could perch beside him.

"He gets me every other day. You and me gotta catch up on lost time."

He smiled, slinging an arm around her shoulders as she popped the cork on the champagne she had stolen, letting out a yelp as bubbles flowed over the brim, covering her hands.

"Before we make any more of a mess, I'm gonna see if I can't find us some glasses," Gale chuckled, stepping around the small puddle of champagne that was forming as he made his way to the door. "You can have my seat, Frank."

"Thanks," She uttered, squeezing Bucky's hand with hers and leaving a sticky palm print behind as she slid off the edge of his chair, sinking into the other.

Left alone, the pair sank into quiet for a long moment, listening peacefully to the cheers and music that hummed steadily from further down the runway.

"How's it feel?" He asked after a while.

Frankie let out a huff of amusement. "Completely, utterly bizarre. I mean... everything in my life changed because of this war, and now it's just... over."

"Which is a good thing. Right?"

"Oh, of course, yunno... I lost family to this thing. Almost all the boys I grew up with are dead now. But then, almost all the best people in my life, I only met because of this war. Hell, I'm married now - I can't just go back to how it was before."

Bucky let out a long sigh, nodding along as she spoke. He stared at the floor for a while, before finally speaking up.

"Y'know... It's gonna sound stupid, but for a little while back then, at the beginning, I kinda thought you and me..."

"Yeah, I know," She nodded, a beat passing before she reached across to grab his hand, holding it in her lap.

They were silent for a moment, letting the weight of Bucky's confession rest between them.

"Your hands are really sticky."

"They are covered in champagne," Frankie snorted, letting out a cackle as Bucky wrestled his hand from her grip, wiping it clean against her skirt. "Oh, you bastard."

"That's what you get."

As their laughter trailed to a stop, she found herself sobering, taking a deep breath.

"Promise me you're not gonna be alone after this. Promise you'll call and visit and find a nice girl to marry, and you won't let yourself go home to an empty house forever."

A flicker of something like adoration crossed his expression.

"Promise."

━━━━━━━━━━��━━━

Gravel crunched beneath Frankie's feet as she finally returned to her hut, the energy that had carried her through the night steadily dwindling. Scrunching her eyes shut as she yawned, a frown began to crease her cheek as her vision readjusted, noticing the door to the hut as it gaped open, exposing the interior to the darkness.

Creeping up towards the entrance, brow furrowed, she tapped her knuckles gently against the doorframe, peering inside. There was only one light in the whole place, and in the warm glow, she could make out a familiar silhouette.

"... Honey?"

Rosie looked up from his spot on the edge of her bed, pen clasped between his fingers as he began to smile at her. "Hey, baby."

She let out a bemused chuckle, stepping inside. "... What're you doing?"

Shrugging, he raised one of the thank-you letters she'd been working on. "You said you needed help with 'em."

Frankie sighed, beaming as she came to stand in front of him. "I didn't mean right now. You should be at the party."

"Party got boring."

"It didn't sound boring."

"You weren't there."

The admission was so earnest that she swore something inside her melted, lifting both hands to loop around the back of his neck. Casting the cards aside, he stared up at her, arms draped around her waist.

"Now I am."

She pressed a long kiss to his scalp, cradling his head in her palms. Rosie let out a satisfied sigh, his thumb rubbing circles against her hip.

"Let's get outta here," He said.

Frankie's brow arched in amusement. "And go where?"

There was a glint in his eye. "Get us a room at the pub?"

"It'll be full by now."

"Well... I did call ahead."

She gasped teasingly. "Oh, you're good."

Rising to stand, he tugged one of her hands away from his neck, pressing a kiss to the back of her palm. He had that look in his eyes, the kind that made her cackle and go terribly red all at once.

"You have no idea."

[parasolyaa]

give me rtc character hcs for being in the subway for the first time

i love how this implies that they’ve never been in the subway before. well, since most of them almost never left uranium, this checks.

ocean — she always advocated for public transportation (and for some reason believed it wasn’t widely used, probably because she assumed everyone could use a car and subway was for noble people who cared for the environment), but if she ever went to a big city, she never stayed there for long, and usually walked by foot. when she actually used the subway for the first time, she decided to hand out flyers that said something like “thank you for choosing public transit! here are some other ways you can help the planet (…)”. ended up absolutely overwhelmed and in a taxi, wiping tears with the flyers no-one seemed to like. wonder why.

noel — romanticized the shit out of paris metropolitan, said he researched all about it and prided himself on being more knowledgeable of it than a local. when he got to go to france (probs a family/school trip when he was a teen) he bought an overpriced graphic t-shirt with the metropolitan map and confidently entered the underground. immediately got disappointed it wasn’t all gothic catacombs, and accidentally sat on a wrong train. had to take off his t-shirt and figure out where he was, and after two hours of being chest naked in the french underground and hopping from one wrong train to another even wronger train a kind passer-by pointed out that the print on his tee was of marseille, not paris. he spent an extra hour figuring out the correct map and asking for directions in broken french (the locals despised him). he entirely missed the drag show he waited for, and ever since then grew to hate the french underground.

mischa — is in on a ukrainian inside joke about metro in odesa. successfuly convinced all choir that there’s metro in odesa. there is no metro in odesa.

there’s also a ukrainian book called toreadors from vasyukivka, where two boys want to build a metro in their village, so they dig a big hole in their yard and a cow accidentally falls into it. safe to say their idea doesn’t stick. at some point these boys get to kyiv and immediately get lost in metro there. that’s 100% mischa. he did this i was the cow.

also he always finds ways not to pay for his ride: jumps over the tourniquet’s, crawls under them, squeezes in with a person in front of him etc. sometimes gets extremely bored and hides in a train wagon when it reaches the final stop, and stays in it when it goes to depo.

ricky — his parents drove him everywhere by car, and told the tales about toronto subway being inaccessible, dangerous and full of freaks. he never believed them. at some point (maybe in a trip with the choir) he got to travel by subway himslef. it was, in fact, a bit of an unpleasant experience, but he found out that it sucks on his own terms and was lowkey proud.

also he was listening to some cringefail furry music (i do not know if furry music is a thing but it will be now) and realised his earphones disconnected and he was blasting it to everyone only after he got home.

penny — had a secret hiding spot in toronto subway where she could keep her things and return to see them intact. she and ezra hid there often and spied on people, sometimes picking up what fell out of their purses — like pieces of candy or pennies (get it? penny? pennies? penis?). they never stayed there for long tho cause it was too overwhelmingly loud.

one time she went to that place and realised some construction workers occupied it. she was emotionally devastated.

constance — always saves the seat for the elderly, disabled and other people who might need it, and people always thank her plenty when she does so. actually never ever sat on a train seat unless the wagon was mostly empty. however, one time she had a horribly tiring + devastating + bad day and decided to sit down for once. got called 10 slurs by an old guy who didn’t see there was another free seat and ocean then told her she should have thought about others first. when she got home she wrote an angry vent in her musical diary (yk, the ones that open with a password and then play a one direction song or smth) with a fluffy pen.

+ talia — she is a subway rat. has a love/hate relationship with obolon station. has beef with pochayna station. she herself is from solomyanka region of kyiv where there is no subway. considers it her curse.

thank you folks for reading this, feel free to send me asks for headcanons!

[punkitt-is-here]

keke used the word ladyboy once for some animal crossing post and later apologized for it forever ago but people are incapable of change so they should be judged for their past forever because this is tumblr!!!!!!

gfsgdfgf the guy is french im not gonna make too huge assumptions but if he apologized (and ive seen tons of trans positive art from him) then i think u can easily understand it as an example of either being unknowledgable or not knowing the english terms for things. one of my best buds ever who's super trans positive accidentally used the t slur years ago because thats just what he thought the term was; i corrected him and he was chill and never used it again. dude just didn't know. stuff like this is so easy to move on from.

[a-drifting-mannequin]

Chapter 3: Love blooms on the battlefield

Fandom:Team Fortress 2

Pairing: Engineer/Soldier; Helmet party; Rocket science

(RED Soldier)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He's so doom now.

Fraternizing with the enemy? Purposely saving his hind from his own team? It's just absolutely outrageous! Ridiculous even.

Soldier wanted to scream or even punch something. Doesn't matter if it's an inaninated object or a person, he just need to dig his fists into something. He saved a BLU and that was something he did not want to happen. And yet, it already did.

Debriefing wasn't easy on him today as he expressed all his anger out on the team, purposely and accidentally hurting some members as well. Medic had told him to calm down and take a break but that just resulted in another series of insults and slurs against his country origin.

Eventually, he did quiet down and left for his room, leaving everyone else stunned and confused. Soldier didn't exit his room the entire day so either Spy or Engineer had to bring his food to the door and collect his empty bowls and plates after he's finished.

At some point in the day, however, he did left his room just to take a shower. Luckily, everyone already finished theirs and were all gathered in the living room at the time.

It was night time and Soldier couldn't sleep. His wife beater was slightly soaked in sweat, either due to the heat or his emotions. He kept tossing and turning on his bed, unable to get the frustration out of himself. At some point, Soldier did took off his helmet and threw it at the wall, which woke Scout up. He didn't bother apologizing to the young Boston, either.

Breathing out a hot breathe of frustration, Soldier dropped down on the floor and tried to clear his mind with pushups. It's something he always does to distract himself from thinking of such problems. On some occasions, he would completely forgot about what the problem is. Other times, it's just stuck like glue at the back of his head.

The damn BLU Engineer looks so much like his and maybe there's not even a lick of difference between them. But to him, he was different. So different, in fact, he could hand pick out the differences.

Unlike their own Engineer who loves the thrill of battle like everyone else, this one seemed a bit more defensive and afraid. Death was a mere concept in their job but everytime his sentry get destroyed, it was like his own flesh and blood was killed in front of him. Even with tinted goggles over his eyes, Soldier could just see the agony and fear whenever a sentry got destroyed or when he realized that there was a spy around him.

The only emotions he would see in their engineer's eyes when his sentry get destroyed or a spy is around were anger, hatred and absolute annoyance.

If he knew something about engineers is that they hated the French's gut. Both engineers of each teams would constantly complain about the spook picking on them every battle. He could've been off back stabbing somebody else but the French still has a favorite to mess with.

Soldier didn't want to be like Demoman who disrespect all rules and laws of the battlefield and go off with the enemy. He was supposed to hate that engineer's guts. He doesn't want any connection with him nor develop a relationship of any kind with a BLU.

Soldier scoffed to himself about the thought of possibly liking the BLU Engineer, turning his mind back to the number of pushups he had done. War doesn't spare place for friendship, nor fun for that matter. The only fun you'll get in this job is the thrill of killing the enemy - in this case, the opposing team that looked like you but wears blue instead of red.

Soldier suddenly paused for a moment, body going stiff. Sweat beads slid down the side of his head, one dropped down on the floorboards. War is something he always had a passion for, but if he understood anything from Sun Tzu and other soldiers and commaders alike is that allies can be beneficial for battles and could possibly help you win war.

Soldier decided to give himself a well deserved break and sat up right, back straight and hands laid on his knees. He contemplated the possible relationship between his Demoman and the BLU Soldier. If it's for their own their benefit or something entirely else, their employer would've prevented it from happening from the start.

Sweat coated his brow and soaked into his wife beater. The wetness is not something he's comfortable with, but he'll have to deal with it later when the sun rise.

Minutes went by and Soldier has yet to move an inch. The alarm clock on his bedside was his signal to get up and out. When he stood up, the alarm showed that it was precisely 0500 in the morning. Soldier reached for his helmet on the floor and rubbed his eyes, feeling rather drained but urged forward. He placed the oversized helmet on his head, knocked his knuckles against it few times and then exited his room.

The shower was the first thing he thought about and he directly headed in the direction of the washrooms. The tiles were cold to the touch and an eerie silence settled over the empty shower. Soldier didn't gave mind to it, quickly heading to his locker and prepared the shower.

The warm water washed over him and eased his frustration. He closed his eyes and let himself dift off comfortably in the rush of water.

After the shower, Soldier gone through the usual routine of shaving his fave clean and polishing his boots for battle. He didn't bothered putting on his coat so a white shirt was the replacement for yhe seeat soaked wife beater.

Upon walking to the kitchen, the smell of fresh bacon and coffee lured him as his stomach felt quite empty. Soldier licked his lips and picked up his pace.

When he entered, the whole team were already settled around the dining table. Scout chatted away with Pyro about the cartoons that they watched last night while Sniper listened. Demo was passed out on the table, drooling a bit and mumbling something unintelligible. His bottle of scrumpy was abandoned on the floor. Their engineer was leaning against the kitchen counter, newspaper in one hand and the other held his fork with a piece of bacon on it.

Heavy stood near the fridge, a small book in his hands and comically small reading glasses perched on his nose bridge. He glanced up to look at Soldier but didn't bother saying anything. It was also hard to know if the engineer was looking at him or not under those goggles.

"You're up late, mate." Sniper said, picking up his '#1 Sniper' cup and taking a sip out of it. Medic entered the room later and gave Soldier a friendly smile before approaching the engineer's side.

"My routine is none of your business, Aussie." Soldier scoffed and grabbed his plate of food, devouring it at a fast pace. Sniper didn't gave mind to the unusually grumpy soldier, but he did casted a look over to the RED Spy who was smoking around the corner.

Engineer chuckled at something Medic told him, occasionally whispering something back to the the doctor. Demo began to stir before he was full awake, head jerking up with his eye half open. Spy came over and swiftly took the bottle from him, gave the Scotchman some aspirin to clear up his alcohol drowned mind and left. A small thanks slipped past loose lips before Demo swallowed the pill dry.

Soldier watched Demo closely, his helmet swaying slightly. Yesterday, Soldier saw how the BLU Engineer shot through his skull without hesitation. It was a raw display of despise and hatred the engineer had for their demoman. Soldier felt as if the BLU had taken enough humiliation that they simply hated the RED's guts no matter what.

Soldier wonders if he ask Demoman about it, would he feel humiliated about what happened?

Soldier didn't have time to think about it when their engineer grabbed his empty plate from his hands and put it in the sink. Medic left for the infirmary to grab his weapons and medigun before the countdown starts.

When everyone left their separate ways to prepare, Soldier followed Demoman to the living room and sat down on the couch beside him.

"Aye, lad, d'ya sleep at all?" Demo asked suddenly, pulling a flask out of seemingly nowhere. Seemed like he noticed his sluggish movements and the shorter attention span than usual.

Soldier didn't turn to look at him. He didn't even smile and come up with some stupid joke as to why he didn't sleep. The man sat still, elbows on his knees and face tilted downwards.

"No, I wasn't able to." Was all Soldier said, his helmet swaying slightly on his head when he tilted up.

From the corner of his eye, he could tell Demo was trying to pry for more. His slightly furrowed brow was the obvious clue. Soldier should know his teammates better than anyone, but Demoman betrayed his partnership and trust just to be with another man who was a copy of him.

The speakers blared the time they had left to prepare before battle. They had exactly an hour to get ready.

The whole base became noisy almost immediately. Medic ran around in his infirmary and office to gather the necessary weapons, occasionally stopping to prevent his birds from doing something. Engineer made sure all his equipments were working correctly and offered to fix any teammate's weapon errors. Heavy, Sniper and Pyro readied their weapon, making sure to have extra fuel and bullets on themselves unless they want to run short on supply early into battle.

Spy sat by the Engineer, watching and waiting patiently for the labourer to fix up his sapper's mechanics. Multiple times throughout the session Engineer had asked if Spy would so kindly give him a cigarette as well, to which the Spy refused and will only offer one if the sapper was in tip-top condition.

Soldier picked up his rocket launder and examined it, checking for anything out of the ordinary. When he turned it to the other side, three streaks of what looked like oil was slightly smeared downwards. This immediately reminded the RED Soldier of the poor BLU Engineer from last time. The all sudden adrenaline and fear must've been a terrible feeling after being shot and stabbed at through out the battle.

Swiftly turning it back on its side, Soldier grabbed his coat on the bed and put it on a bit too violently. After everything was neat and tight on him, Soldier marched out of his room and went to join the others by the entrance.

Scout was still rambling on about something that Soldier doesn't care to give attention to. Sniper, however, was fixated on every word that comes out of the youngster's mouth. Medic was discussing with Heavy, Engineer and Demo about plans in order to secure a victory.

Everyone was dressed and ready. A look of determination on their faces as they looked to each other. Soldier, in this moment, experience dread for the first time.

The door slowly opened, revealing that the BLUs got a head start, a few sentries were already built around the area.

Everyone moved out at a quick speed, charging in different directions like scattered ants.

Sniper perched himself somewhere not visible to anyone unless you look carefully, positioning and aiming his gun at his desired target. Engineer wandered the field, setting up sentries and teleporters where he deemed perfect. Scout and Demomam reck havoc in the middle, sticky bombs flew and bullets fired. Heavy and Medic teamed up to make sure the first point get secured before moving on.

Pyro had already capped a point with Spy, an erupted muffled cheer rang through the Badlands. Spy focused in shooting more than stabbing this time, picking up whatever ammo he could find. Pyro did eventually called Engie for a dispenser, who rushed over while being on 25HP.

Soldier rocket blasted anyone who comes near, occasionally rocket jumping to find his next victim.

At least Demo wasn't coupling up with the BLU Soldier, who he just saw a few feet away from the BLU Engineer. Somehow, Soldier wished he could have a more friendly interaction with the BLU Engineer.

In mid air, Soldier's mind wandered back to the occurrence that happened yesterday and he thought of meeting up with the BLU Engineer for a friendly discussion about his Demo and BLU's Soldier.

Without noticing, he landed straight in the BLU Sniper's nest and was now facing a confused and angry Australian. Without another distracting thought, Soldier pulled out his shovel, a smile curled on his lips and knocked his Khukri out of his hand.

The BLU Sniper did put up a fair fight, though. If he can't use his knife or gun, he'll just use whatever he had on him. It was apparently Jarate. Having piss thrown at you and soaking your clothes is no one's cup of tea. But considering both snipers from both team, Soldier could only assume that these two have a serious problem that even lobotomy couldn't fix or cure.

After cornering and beating up the sniper, Soldier pinned him down and, with a strike of his shovel, decapitated the Australian's head. Blood pooled around him as the head rolled off to one side. The sniper's head had its eyes still open wide, mouth slightly agale with a thin stream of blood dripping out from the corner. Could be a great new addition to his head collection.

"I'll send my condolences to your kangaroo wife!" Soldier shouted with a wide grin, knowing no one would hear him anyway. This was a joke he had been perfecting the last week, and now with a chance to do it, Soldier had never felt better.

"Now, aint that just a little rude?" A thick Texan accent called out to him, a hint of mockery in his voice.

Soldier whipped his head around, expecting to see the BLU Engineer standing there with a grin on his face. Instead, he found that it was just his team's engineer, a shotgun in hand and his toolbox next to him. Seemed like he respawned after setting up that dispenser. Soldier wondered if he got shot or backstabbed by a nearby spy.

The RED Soldier was almost relieved that it wasn't a BLU. But, somehow, he really hoped it was.

"Alright boy, quit fooling around and go capture that point!" Engineer shouted, a wide smile on his face as he ran off to the direction of the next available point. Soldier followed, uncertain of whether he should respond or not.

Time was running out, everyone was doing everything in their power to secure victory for themselves. The Heavies and Medics had secured each a point but now are combating for the third. The Spies are trying hard to secure back stabs as well as push the enemy back.

The speakers began blaring, declaring an overtime when the timer ended without anyone noticing. This took the BLU team by surprised, almost like they couldn't believe their ears. With newfound motivation, they pushed forward with even more power than they did before.

The RED immediately saw the change and struggled to keep up with it. Three or four team members on RED's side were already sent to Respawn while the BLU team were down exactly two members.

During the heated mist of overtime, Soldier struggled to stay alive long enough to help their Demoman cap a point. One of his arms was missing and he was bleeding heavily, but he kept moving in order to try and find a dispenser to heal himself. His throat was dry and his voice came out hoarse, his vision started to blur and became increasingly difficult to see under his helmet. Even with the inconvenience, the soldier refused to take the helmet off.

Soldier eventually stumbled towards a dispenser and stopped, letting his vision clear up before anything else can happen. In the corner of his eye, he spotted the BLU Engineer staring it him, a gun held close to his chest.

Soldier didn't even noticed that it was a blue colored dispenser that he stumbled towards. With how desperate his situation looks, Soldied couldn't blame himself for not being more careful. The BLU Engineer stood unmoving, the tinted goggles obscuring his emotions from the near death soldier.

Before Soldier could stumble away from the engineer, a bullet was launched straight through his helmet. The noise rang out througg the battle as the final countdown begins. The BLU Engineer stared at RED Soldier's body, smoke rose from the muzzle of his shotgun and fading into the air.

The BLU Soldier came over with curiosity as to why his engineer was so still. Upon closer inspection, he could see the RED Soldier's remains being picked up by respawn before the Texan turned around to face him.

"It's a tie, Engineer." BLU Soldier said, not expectong to grt much reaction from the engineer. "We weren't able to capture the last point." He explained, watching the engineer relax ever so slightly.

"Well, don't that beat it all." BLU Engineer said with a sigh, letting BLU Soldier lead him back to their base as the sound of the RED team complaining floated by them.

RED Soldier stood in respawn alone, a hand holding onto his helmet and the other clutching his rocket launcher. He heard the announcement as well as the disappointed bickering of each team.

Demo appeared at the door, his head poking around the corner with a rather discontent look on his face.

"We lost, lad. It's a tie." Demo said solemnly, eventually coming around the corner to lean against the doorway.

Soldier didn't say anything, he just nodded and made his way out of the respawn room with Demo following close behind him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was losing motivation while writing this

@darkcloudsatnight I need a moot or someone to read this pls. I'm desperate rn.. You're the only person that I know who likes helmet party

[sillysarahsthings]

Fun facts about anything involving your creeps version or OC or both

Quite a few actually! I'll make a part two of this.

LJ

LJ sometimes wears Blackie's clothes cuz they're bigger and comfy. (He steals hoodies and sweaters.)

His favorite candy is licorice, REALLY strong licorice, or basically anything that's overly sweet, as he has difficulty tasting so it needs to be strong.

He can't feel anything in his arms or legs, they are made of stuffing and magic.

(not so fun fact) LJ gets nightmares pretty often, not of Issac's but of Falco's since that's all he dreamt about when he was stuck in the box.

He hates his music box but keeps it anyway.

Blackie

Spoils Will and Jack a lot. (She gets it from her daddy Ophi. ✨)

She kinda has contact with her sisters but only through Ophiel.

The only one she can directly visit is Miss Violet and she'd rather not to because she hates LJ and wants him dead

Blackie loves human flesh but also likes sweets.

She doesn't know many famous English idioms since she's french so she might get words wrong.

Issac

He was actually married and had children.

Was pretty antisocial, but still was a pretty serious idiot.

Regrets accidentally doxing Blackie since he saw her as a mom

Would let Will do literally anything because ye he's reckless

Makes Blackie's furniture, she hates him but will admit he's good at making human furniture. (She finds them pretty.)

Used to say slurs a lot but stopped cuz Blackie cursed him.

I'm thinking I should draw Issac's family.

[muselixer]

dumb things my friends and I have said: 2024!

part two: april - june apologies ahead of time for length! feel free to change pronouns if need be. warning for foul and dirty language, suggestiveness, and capslock-implied yelling :)

"I feel like my body's had a check engine light on since I was 13."

"I'm gonna turn that man into a candle."

"Give me back the hot milkmen."

"My depression is a machine that turns rejection into malfunction."

"HE IS NOT JUST A BALL."

"And maybe he doesn't need to be so depressed all the time if he can do drugs."

"Can't get a woman? Become a commie!"

"Okay, god complex, you can kick back in now."

"WHY HE GOT AN ASS?!"

"Sorry. I had a moment of unclarity."

"Maybe the real friends were the delusions we had along the way."

"That French toast kicked my ass. I never thought I would lose a fight to a Frenchman."

"This is great. I'm covered in rice."

"What I'd do to go down on a bag of chips right now..."

"Fuck you, eat your pizza bone-in."

"Why were you cooking mac and cheese shirtless."

"THIS LAND IS FULL COCAINE."

"Cold. Nocturnal. Will bite you. I am a vampire."

"IF YOU LEAVE ME HERE TO DIE, I'M SENDING AN EMAIL."

"You live in the living room. You dead in the deading room."

"How do you ACCIDENTALLY learn a little too much about lobotomies?"

"What if the anesthesiologist took some of my spinal fluid and tasted it?"

"Who the fuck cares about the law? I brought you to a fucking dimension."

"My fuckin balls are full of bugs."

"Sorry, did you just quote TED BUNDY?"

"Send him to the cuck tent. Send him to the tent of cuckoldry."

"Life is a soap opera and I am nothing more than an observer."

"Am I horny, or do I just really have to piss?"

"I feel like a broom."

"They really want the kids to grow up and do the lord's work... pound fireball shots until they barf."

"You are whatever slur I call you."

"When my hair is wet, THEN you can yell at me. It's MY autism, okay?"

"Hey, can I manhandle your tits real quick?"

"Woke up goated with the sauce this morning. If goated was mildly hungover, and the sauce was ColourPop Disco Lady glitter."

[bea-schuyler]

so rat in irish is francach and my friend tried to call my art teacher a rat (to his face lmao) and accidentally called him franco and i said that sounds like a slur for french people

anyway his new name is franco lmao

[rose-smoke]

for nischa agere: vent regression/struggling to regress? Revealing regression and the first time one of them takes care of the other? Gingerbread house building and decorating? A birthday party just the two of them? Going to the park? Or trying to go to an amusement park and one of them regresses from the trauma? Bedtime?

Im thinking agere!noel and cg!mischa but the other way around is awesome too! Ooo or theyre both flips? Up to you!

Also i gave a lot of options but please do not feel obligated to do all or any of these, theyre just suggestions you can do if youd like, or combine them! Everything from here is your call

I can't not tell you how excited I got when I saw this (kicking legs and giggling excited) so anyway😍

Title: french snore mode activated

Regressor: noel

Cg: mischa

One day, noel asked mischa if he could come over for a sleepover just randomly and mischa said yes :D

It is now the sleepover day!! Noels so nervous he might throw up, but he has teddy bear to keep him safe, did I mention noel age regresses? Well he does and now he's scared if he does he'll be an embarrassment, so noel hides all his toys and makes sure his pacifier and other agere supplies are hidden well. Noel then hears a knock on the front door and quite literally sprints like a demon on meth to the door and opens it, but it's just the delivery man "hi sir, I have a package for gay boy?" the mail man said in a thick ukrainian accent, trying not to laugh as noel realised- "mischa you're so annoying when you dress like that to prank people" noel groaned as he pulled mischa up to his room and pushed him on the bed "noel, no need to be like that, you don't wanna be wack right?" (Im sorry i have no idea how to write mischas slang or whatever you call it so mischa shall be cringe 💀💀💀) mischa said as he pulled noel down with him and ruffled his hair "mischa stop i just styled my hair" noel complained as he pushed mischas hand away.

After a while of doing stuff, it was night time and noel wanted mischa to fall asleep first because...well noel felt like he was regressing and if mischa fell asleep first then he could regress no stress, now mischa knew noel regresses because noel accidentally regressed at his house one time and  it was fine but noel still didn't really trust regressing near anyone just yet. After a few minutes, mischa was texting talia and noel was fighting the urge to regress, mischa looked up and walked over to noel "noel, dude you good?" He asked seeming concerned, he pulled noel into a hug and noel just sighed "im fine mi'cha...just tired.." he said slurring some of his words, which mischa knew were meaning he was regressing "monbon you sure?" Mischa asked and tried not to laugh as he saw noel get embarrassed at the nickname "..why dat na'e?.." he asked "because its cute little dude" noel got more embarrassed "no wittle" he pouted as mischa picked him up "what does my cutie need hm?" He cooed as noel pointed to a drawer, so mischs opened it and saw all of noels agere stuff so he grabbed a pacifier "say ahh" "ahh" noel opened his mouth and mischa put the pacifier in and hands noel his plushie as mischa lays on the bed and cuddles noel to sleep.

(I gave up in the end)

[prongsiess]

Once again, things my friends have said as incorrect marauders quotes:

James: we should get a hermit crab and call it Henry

Regulus, to Barty and Evan while doing his morning stretches: did you know that you live longer if you’re as flexible as a cat *winks*

Dorcas, looking at Reg zoning out looking at the gryffindor table: apparently cats think about marauders, not goldfish

Remus drunk off his rocker at a quidditch party, slurring his words: marauders for life man!

Peter, having a discussion with Marlene and Mary: I have the world’s most lesbian nails ever

James to Sirius in the Potters’ kitchen: of course not silly, Aslan (my hc name for the Potter’s gold retriever) can’t make dips!

James, showing off his shaved armpits to Marlene: it’s my little feminine trait, I don’t have armpits

Barty in care of magical creatures: hippogriffs are like speedbumps, the faster you run them over the less you feel them

Pandora, dead serious: I would kill Evan before I kill Reginald (my hc for the skittles’ pet snake)

Mary, to Sirius: just remember that I have a kitchen knife in my bag, I’m not kidding

Marlene: hey Minnie! You need to buy teenagers!

Sirius, discouraged that Remus doesn’t seem interested: NOOO I can’t have him but of course I can pick up old hags at madam pudifoots!

Peter: I am 99% banana and 1% wizard

Pandora, arguing with barty about Reginald: he doesn’t get constipated when I FEED HIM, I have magic fingers

Remus: Pompfrey’s my mum

Lily, standing behind Minnie with her arms crossed after Sirius just got detention: you’ve been Minnied

Mary consoling a first year after their first marauders prank: it’s okay the trauma will pass

Evan: my religion is pumpkin juice

Dorcas: me in the Great Hall on the morning that Reginald dies… “DEAR STUDENTS”-

Barty, literally unprompted: that child is postpartum

Marlene: Sirius, be honest, have you ever shoved a tampon up your ass?

Peter: it’s the peterphilia, the cult of my lawless village

Lily, dodging Marls, James, and Sirius trying to hug her after the won a match: do not fucking crust near me

Evan in herbology: if I put too many seeds will my plant overdose???

Remus close to a full moon: when I walk behind you I can smell your trail

Sirius: oh my god PENIS i’m freezing

Dorcas: not as if Barty can find the clit anyways

Regulus crying after he got less than an O: i’m not used to being stupid

Remus, talking about padfoot: I once saw him eat a squirrel and spit out its head

Sirius after any minor inconvenience: fuck school, fuck life, fuck this and someone please fuck me

James, sliding around the commonroom in his socks after accidentally having normal coffee instead of decaf: Lily move over I wanna drift the corner

Pandora: sorry i’m blonde, it’s not my fault!

James, after coming back from the slytherin common room: I’ve decided, slytherins are bipolar!

Sirius, scrutinizing themselves in the mirror: the more I think about it, the more I look like a rhinoceros

(These were all slightly changed to fit the context and some are translated from french as well, but the meanings stay true to the original)

[birboon]

BBC Ghosts: My OC

NAME: Roméo Boutin

GENDER: Male

SEXUALITY: bisexual

NATIONALITY: French

DEATH: Accidentally drowned as a Prisoner of the British during the Napoleonic war

BACKSTORY:

The hand was there again, rough and callous as it pushed down. The grip on his neck was bruising; pale skin mottling a violent purplish-blue beneath the thuggish fingers that pressed into it. Roméo tried to tear himself away but the hold was too strong, too tight. He saw little more than a flash of red uniform before his wet curls slipped into his eyes; heard nothing more than the brutish guffaw of one of his jailers before the force on his neck was increased ten-fold. And suddenly he found himself heading face first back into the tin basin, trying miserably to suck in a final breath of air before the shock of ice-water flooded his systems. Weakly, he tried to push himself from the water to no avail. His hands found purchase on the bucket, rusted edges biting at his palms, yet no amount of upwards pressure would shake off the hands holding him down. There were fingernails scratching at his scalp, entwined in his knotted, soaked curls to keep him beneath the water line. Roméo’s time was running out.

He’d stopped trying to call for help after the first few submersions, been dragged from the frozen tub gasping and shivering and choking out slurs towards his captors. The Frenchman had, inevitably, given up. But in the hands of such an unforgiving enemy, was it really a surprise? Broken, that’s what he was: he’d been broken in like a yearling, sent galloping by the whips straight into the welcoming arms of his handlers. The ones who pulled him from the cold touch of death with a harsh tug, meaty hands yanking on the blue ribbon that kept the golden locks from his face.

A shiver coursed through his body, a chill shock sweeping his veins. Roméo’s mouth fell open in a horrific realisation, chest clenching tightly. He hadn’t been pulled out yet - why hadn’t they pulled him out? A cold gush of water filtered down his throat to his lungs and his tongue grew heavy with the metallic taste of it. The Frenchman tried to yell, a burbled cry dimmed and dull reaching the ears of the men holding him hostage, but there was no alleviation from the drowning sensation that burned the back of his eyes like a dozen pin pricks. There was a knock on the back of his legs followed by a hefty weight, and only when they were tied down did he realise his legs had been flailing out, kicking and thrashing to gain purpose on the growing puddle seeping through the wooden floor. There was a tug on his chest cavity, something innate and ancient, dragging him down further into the water and he caught his eyes sagging closed. New thoughts came slowly, cold flashes of memories buried deep and long forgotten: Jean-Marc Pierre, his childhood friend and the farm-hand-next-door. His first kiss with her, soft and quick on cherry-red painted lips; his first kiss with him, intoxicating and dry but strong and eager. Lessons with professors, speeches from his father on the family business. Hearing of the war as a fresh-faced man, just of age, with a yearning to fight and die like a martyr; stealing away in the dead of night, astride his great chestnut stallion, to march with his brothers under orders of the great general. Nights in an orchard under the stars, fumbling with one of the Privates under his command, the taste of sour-apple on his tongue. Fighting on the beaches, rapier swinging in the air and slashing through flesh. Feeling his steed shudder and fall beneath him. Being taken, stolen, forced to watch the massacre of his men. The darkness of the lower decks as the boat cast him away from his homeland and across the channel. The grandiose mansion they dragged him to, far from the sea and deep in the wilderness. The brutal beatings, abuse, assaults on his person and now… this.

It seemed his time was finally over. He was drowning. Roméo could feel his pulse slowing - could hear his heartbeat gradually die down. His body writhed like a snake trapped in a sack, unable to escape his fate as dark spots overcame his muddied vision and the burning began to pierce into his deflated lungs. Pain, pain, pain until the hurt just finally… stopped. Welcomed to his watery grave and driven from it all too quick, gasping for unneeded breath as he shot from the water and climbed unsteadily to his feet.

He knew he was dead, of course. That much was obvious, when you could see your corporeal body still warm and jittery with the last shock of nerves. Roméo stared down at the scene that lay before him, feeling oddly warm despite the dampness of his uniform pressing into his skin. He watched as the three english soldiers in charge of his torture finally tore his pallid face from the water, pushing an uncomfortable two fingers into the side of his throat and murmuring about the lack of pulse. Roméo flinched as they simply shrugged, flinging his limp form to the floor, water leaking from his overflowing lungs, and kicking into his ribs one last time - as if he hadn’t suffered enough whilst alive! The frenchman’s face soured in distaste and he straightened his blue collar penchantly.

“Ça alors!” he murmured quietly, voice swollen with grief and disbelief. There was a scuffle behind him, the sound of dragging footsteps, and Roméo whipped around defensively. His green eyes locked with the deep set ones of… something. He wasn’t really sure if he’d call the thing a person. Some primitive form of human, maybe, with a giant forehead and rags wrapped around their body fashioned from what appeared to be fur. The Frenchman grimaced at the sight. Perhaps this was another of the prisoners?

“Small man dead!” the creature huffed, sounding almost as though he were trying not to laugh. “Small blue man die, come look!”

“Oh, no, I don’t want to… okay!” A brilliantly-dressed young woman phased through the wall behind the odd-looking neanderthal, face beaming. “Oh look at him, the poor dear! So handsome!”

Roméo scrambled backwards at her approach, chest heaving. He was dead. And he wasn’t alone in being so.

“C'est pas possible! ne pas s’approcher!” he cried, holding his arms out before him wildly. He flinched as he felt his foot travel through something odd, movement slowed, and blanched as he looked down to see his legs passing through the slump of his own body.

“I think ‘es gonna be sick!” came a new voice, common and whiny and grating to his ears. He snapped his gaze to the soot-covered woman stepping into the room behind him, falling to his knees. They were speaking english - the language was not natural for his tongue but he understood enough - he’d had the best of tutoring, of course. Boarding school had not been wasted on him.

“What is, uh-” he tested the words on his tongue, letting the forgein syllables slide from his mouth. “What is going on?”

“You dead,” the primitive man commented unhelpfully and Roméo felt heat flood his face as he flushed angrily.

“Yes I- I know that!” he snarled, eyes flickering - but paying no heed - to the young woman as she giggled and blushed at his words.

“Oh he has an accent!”

“‘Es one of them french folks ain’t he?” the burned woman asked nobody in particular, digging her finger in her ear.

“Imbéciles!” the Frenchman spat. “Oui, I am french. What is ‘appening, I should be in heaven no?”

“You die...” the caveman said steadily, hands gesticulating wildly and uselessly. “Become ghost like us!”

The others burst out clapping at the man’s excited state and Roméo collapsed to his knees, staring down at his body. He was… stuck here? With them?

He’d rather have gone to Hell.

[blackbutlerfandomnerddomain]

Name: Rosalio Rory Wyle

Nicknames: Rose, Little Prince, Sir Wyle (classmates more specially Flint), Rory (his online followers), Royal Pain-in-the-Ass (classmates and Asher and Jac), rosebud (Jac)

Gender: Male

Birthday: August 23rd

Age: 13-14

Height: 5'2

Appearance: Rosalio is very petite and small looking with very fair skin dusted with soft freckles and blush, button nose, big brown storm blue eyes with thick lovely lashes around them that fits with his doll like features, his skin is easily bruisable as evidence of the bruises on his knees and arms from school life

Clothing: Dresses very prim and proper in normal fitting clothes such as button ups and slacks though he does wear a lot of sweaters and overalls since they're easier to remove during P.E. or when he changes into clothes he want which are pretty frilly and "adorable"

Personality: Rosalio is pretty uptight and strict according to those around him, often a goody-toe-shoes as well and some say he comes off a touch arrogant and snobbish/spoiled and hot headed with a quick insulting tongue and annoyed eyeroll, but behind all that he's a very anxious person with issues of being in control of his own things and often would accidentally go through the flows and interests of others instead of his own, he also has pretty bad anxiety of not being accepted to a hangout or being left behind which makes his chicken out on many things even ones that connect with his real interests When you get passed his insecurities and mean front you get a soft inside of a loyal friend who's good with kids

Schooling: First Year of High School

Likes: Strawberries, cute things, bunnies, cookies, cakes, frogs, flowers, gardening, when things are clean and in order, rock music, classical music, history, math, chemistry, praise, roses, tea, iced coffee, matcha bubble tea, doc martens, bees, honey, cream, ocean things, fairy tales, mythological creatures, order, colorful spread sheets, horror games and movies, jazz, French films, K-dramas

Dislikes: The smell of perfume, when there's a big mess he has to clean, his family, cigarette smell, being called spoiled or annoying, racists, sexists, homophobes, the smell of beer, when someone makes a mess of his things on purpose or not, sea food, being touched without being asked first, loud busy areas, loud noises, slurs

Abilities: Okay cook, good cleaner, very smart, good singer, great with kids, listening to others, order

Name Meanings: - Rosalio - Spanish for "rose" - Rory - Old Irish for "red king" - Wyle - Takes after the word "wile" which means "trickster"

Trivia:

- Is the only child of his family, his father a lawyer and mother a housewife daughter of a judge and doctor - His father cheats a lot and accepts bribes while his mother is a user or booze and unlethal pills and medicines and he's often the one to clean up the messes - Because of this he spends half the week in a home called "Home of Wonders" which is a place for youths to hang out and stay at for free and sometimes stay nights in their "friend family" home. People call it the Mad House due to people having issues so he doesn't admit he's there - Jac and Helena Viviladi are his "friend family" and he and Jac don't get along too well - Have yall seen the short "Opal"? Please watch it to see what I was going for on his life - Has bad FOMO but worst anxiety to try to go to parties or hangouts - Has a blog called "Rory's Kingdom" where he uses the persona of Rory who's a popular adventures person who isn't scared of anything

I made Riddle, I have a problem-

[meisnerd]

In Canada and graduated high school about ten years ago. Queerness was "accepted", but not really talked about. I had a gay/lesbian group come at school during a drama class basically tell us that gay people were normal and in the same breath tell us that their group began accepting bisexual people in their group, but didn't understand bisexuality or what it was about, how could they really be attracted to more than one gender? (as a bisexual woman, that is one of my core memories). There were still campaigns when I was in primary school about not calling stuff gay, because yes, gay was a slur. There were campaigns when I was in primary school about not using the French equivalent of f*g, because it was commonly used. There was one gay guy in my whole year that was out, and it was still kept hush hush on a need-to-know basis or friends.

All my friend group of the end of high school came out since, because we're all a flavor of queer. One of those friends, came out as trans in his mid twenties, because despite him having awesome parents, he was not aware it was a possibility (and looking back it's obvious. Dude began glowing when he got his hair cut short at like, 16).

I realized I was bisexual when I got on tumblr. Because despite the comment from that gay/lesbian alliance, I was not aware it before it that it was a possibility and when I knew that it was, it was shut down as not being understandable and weird even by the same queer people who came into the school to tell us they were normal (which like, awesome, it was needed!). I accepted I was bisexual as an adult. When I accidentally came out to my mom, she told me it was weird, that you can't be attracted to more than one gender, if I had more chance of cheating on my partner (and like, if that means I'm a cheater) and if my partner knew and was okay with it. We never talked more about it and I guess she happily repressed those memories as I am happily partnered with a man. And that reaction while being an otherwise good mother.

It's awesome that young people know queerness and it doubly awesome that they can discover themselves while being teenagers! But it's very very new and still not the case everywhere.

Do high school kids these days just have trans classmates now. Like I keep seeing zoomer posts casually referring to it. Fucking wild if true.

[winwintea]

nct and pet names

pairing ▸ random!nct members x reader (yuta, ten, jaehyun, renjun, jaemin, chenle, riku, sakuya) author's note ▸ i was inspired by another post, but wanted to go for a more realistic feeling, especially towards the foreign idols. enjoy my brainrot. also there needs to be more wish content on here i beg

yuta - naishinno 

this man would definitely call you ‘gorgeous’, ‘divine’, or ‘princess’. but he’d prefer and be more comfortable to say such words in his native tongue. he also found out how much you enjoyed hearing him speak japanese, so sometimes on purpose he’ll sneak up behind you and whisper, “naishinno…'' (meaning princess in japanese)  startling you but also making your ears turn pink. yuta also has no problem with using the pet name within earshot of others, and as much as you protest, he assures you that no one really understands.

ten - mi mi 

hear me out guys. hear me out. ten our beloved cat mom would definitely call you something relating to cats. he’s not calling you “kitten” because um that’s kinda cringe… but he would go for something cuter. “mao mi” is the chinese word for cat, (I KNOW HE'S THAI. BEAR WITH ME OKAY) and people usually refer to kittens as “mi mi” (it’s like the most basic name an owner can give to their cat too) most of the time, nicknames are usually duplicated characters, and mi mi is also a very common nickname for girls. it also means ‘tits’. so ten decided that was the best nickname in the world and he was an absolute genius for coming up with it, and so now you’re stuck with being called his “mi mi” for life. good luck. 

jaehyun - cara mia/mi amor/ma cherie 

jaehyun LOVES pet names. it’s a rare feat if he ever calls you by your first name. ‘sweetheart’, ‘darling’, ‘honey’. he uses them all. but jaehyun is a classy bitch, and he likes to keep things fancy, so his favorites are using different languages, just because it somehow sounds more expensive and full of taste and that’s exactly what he feels you deserve. some of his favorites include: “cara mia” the italian words for ‘my beloved’; “mon amour” & “mi amor” the french and spanish words for ‘my love’; and finally, “ma cherie” the french words for ‘darling/sweetheart’. (stream mon amour by gemini guys)

renjun - qin ai de/qin qin/lao po 

okay yes renjun is using chinese, but not straight away into the relationship. let’s get that cleared up out of the way. he’ll initially start with ‘my dearest’, and uses his sweet voice to his advantage. “qin ai de y/n, could you do something for me real quick? pretty please?” but eventually as the relationship progresses on and he feels more comfortable, he’ll start dropping the “lao po” (‘wife’ in chinese) on you, which initially comes as a culture shock, because you haven’t even thought of getting to that stage yet. renjun teaches you of how common it is in china for non-married couples to call each other husband and wife, and even teaches you how to say ‘lao gong’ (husband)

jaemin - pookie

once jaemin discovers this word it’s joeover for you. one day you accidentally call him, ‘pookie’ to his face (which is what you would often use when referring to him around others) and he is so intrigued by the word he demands an explanation as to what it means. and when he realizes it’s true purpose, it’s true meaning, he’ll be taking that word to the GRAVE. and this brat uses it EVERYWHERE. on text, in person, in front of your friends. he will never spare you the pain and embarrassment. but he just wants to let you know how much he loves you, truly. his pookie <3

chenle - bao bei

immediately into your relationship chenle throws around ‘babe’ and ‘baby’ like crazy. this man knows what he wants because he quickly found out that if he slurred his words while saying, “bao bei a~” you would fold immediately. not afraid of saying it in front of others because the only one who understands are the c-liners (but eventually everyone catches on) chenle also somehow makes it seem so casual and natural. ‘bao bei’ also directly translates to treasure, and he’ll occasionally add in a ‘xiao’ (little) at the beginning when praising you or giving you compliments.

riku/sakuya - pan-san

I was originally just going to do riku, but figured i’d just shove these two together, but mostly write about riku.

sakuya and riku both like bread, the only difference is that while both want to work at a bakery, sakuya cannot cook to save his life and riku can actually bake. these two actually share so much in common it's actually insane, for one being absolute shits in general. regardless, ‘pan’ means bread and ‘pan-san’ is actually so cute and it rolls off the tongue really well. (i was originally going to say ‘pan-pan’ but a quick google search said no.) 

although riku enjoys teasing you, he still wants you to enjoy the pet name given to you. ‘bread’ is sweet, it is simple, and it is certainly delicious. literally the best nickname anyone could ever have and you should be grateful. but you don’t seem as pleased as he is. you have to process that your boyfriend is naming you after bread. not even like ‘cupcake’ or ‘sugar cookie’ or something else, just. bread. but after riku yaps about it for an hour, adding in compliments and phrases, you give in, and allow yourself to be called bread.

(do let me know if you want to see anything for the other members! i'll try my best 🙏🙏)