#Capt Daddy

[writings-the-systems]

Next is a analysis only post of a likely system of

Sunny from omori

First analysis

Sunny is a character from omori that many actually speculate to be a system given the game takes place a lot in his dreams with a prominence of a separate entity called Omori who is protecting him from the truth of some trauma while another entity named Stranger tries to lead him to the truth

Let’s go over everything we know and which dream world entities I believe are probably actual alters and which are just things he came up with

Also huge spoiler warning ahead given I will be talking about key details slightly

First of all let’s go over Sunny given he’s the simplest one and the only one confirmed to fully actually exist and have his own ideas and stuff

He rather forget his trauma and does the role of a host and seems to always be fronting other then in his dreams when Omori takes front

I’m going to move on to omori given there’s not much to say about Sunny without talking about everyone

Omori is a younger Sunny in a way that knows the truth and the emotions tied to it

Depending on the route you take Omori is a little different so let’s go over both versions

In both routes Omori is the main character in the dream world and travels alongside younger versions of the system’s friends which I would say were fictives but I just don’t believe so given they seem to have a emphasis on being replaceable which alters can’t just be gone like that

Now I’m going to go over the changes between routes

In the Sunny route eventually Sunny learns of the truth and fights Omori while Omori acts as a persecutor just saying all Sunny’s bad thoughts like how everyone would hate him and some darker things which I’ll not be going over here

Meanwhile in the Hikomori route Omori seems to become host at the end because everything becomes too hard for Sunny and he asks Omori for help

This is why some may speculate these guys are a system

Now that we got the basics down let’s go over some dream world people that I believe could actually be alters

First off Stranger given we need to go over him

Stranger I believe if Sunny is a system is a alter for a multitude of reasons

First off Stranger seems to have a thought process of his own and have control of himself given he’s doing things that Sunny and Omori wouldn’t want to happen (lead to the truth)

Stranger would also have every reason to exist as a alter of he’s directly tied to the trauma of Mari’s death

Like Omori Stranger is different between the routes and in the Hikomori route he genuinely seems upset and hurt that Sunny doesn’t even want to look for the truth

Now that we’ve analyzed I’m going to go over how I believe Stranger works in the system

He’s a Factive of Basil of course but he also is a trauma holder and a alter who is formed to help with accepting a truth

Next I’m going to just go over a few other things that I believe could be alters in some way? But they don’t have big ties to anything

Capt Spaceboy given that seems to be a comfort media of sorts so I wouldn’t be surprised if the guy is a fictive

Sweetheart could also be a alter who’s formed to help with self love and just the feeling like no one would love the system if they knew the truth

Mewo in white space could be some form of animal alter soother or observer

Daddy Longlegs completely because he knows the truth despite how the Dreamer(Sunny) doesn’t which doesn’t sound possible unless he’s a separate entity

Something could be a fictive of a delusion

Now just a few I don’t think are factives and stuff

Mari I don’t think is possible and I think the Ghost Mari thing was probably more of a paranormal thing in some form at least in my opinion

The main group as priorly mentioned in blackspace are shown to be replaceable at any time

Basil is also shown to be replaceable

But in all honesty everything in the dream world could be argued as alters

That’s all given I’m not going to exactly explain their trauma and things or counter points I’m more here to talk about the things I’ve noticed as a system that could lead towards the theory

Feel free to leave your theories in the comments :D

Here’s the ending photo

[x3no9]

Santa, baby!

Captain Price as Daddy Santa ;)

Did a little tweaking as it was even more odd looking than these. Still hot AF!

[gilverrwrites]

sorry i know you weren’t really talking about captain cold but!!!! i love leonard so much aaaaaa , i would let him do anything to me 🩵 do you think he’d be into sensory play & such, all things considering? also also!! if you ever do write anything for axel i would LOVE to read it !!!!!

DONT BE SORRY, baby your speaking to my soul! This used to be a captain cold themed blog many many moons ago I love Leonard Snart so much please talk to me about him I will jump at the chance

To answer your question, YES. Just like his gun, this man wants to understand every single inch of your body, in and out. What turns you on, what gets you fired up, or makes you putty in his hands.

Unless you ask him explicitly, he probably doesn't even realise what he's doing is sensory play, at least not in the begining. Not when he's just testing how the different parts of your body respond to his hands. (Sidenote: this man has meaty, callouses, bulecollar mans hands) How the most sensitive parts of you react to his breath, his tongue, his teeth.

Even when he kicks it up a notch, trying different fabrics, blindfolds, trialing the different fabrics of his gloves.

Even when he brings in the ice, he just thinks he's into hot/cold play.

I don't think he's into the impact/pain part of it, beyond a bit of spanking and biting (giving and recieveing), but he likes causing discomfort. God, like, just imagine him cooling you down to the point of shivering and shaking, desprate for heat. And to get your blood pumping again he has you cockwarm him! Both totally stripped so you can cuddle into him for his body heat while he's just like drinking beer and bitching about the news.

Sign me up.

[deathsprofit]

src

[fluentmoviequoter]

Divorcing Dad

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader (they're parents!)

Summary: When your daughter asks Tim if he's getting a divorce, he doesn't know what to say. In the aftermath of the question, you have to comfort both Bradfords.

Warnings: mentions of divorce obv, fluff, crying, comfort, I changed the spelling of Capt. Andersen's last name for Tim's daughter

Word Count: 1.5k+ words (this was supposed to be a blurb lol)

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Tim’s favorite day of the week is Friday. Not because it marks the end of a week or is the mostly agreed upon best day of the week, but because it’s the day that he gets off work early and gets to pick up your daughter from school. Since his promotion to Sergeant, Tim began leaving early one day a week to spend extra time with his daughter, who has him wrapped around his finger. She’s been a daddy’s girl since you gave birth. Still, whenever you see your favorite Bradfords together, you become more convinced that Tim Bradford didn’t truly understand love until he cradled you and your beautiful daughter in his arms. Although, you’re a bit jealous that she is Tim's spitting image. At least he’s gorgeous, you remind yourself often.

“Munchkin!” your daughter, Anderson, named for Tim’s late captain, yells as she exits her classroom.

Tim shakes his head as he pulls her into his arms and against his chest. A few weeks ago, she overheard you call Tim Munchkin while teasing him about playing princess dress-up, and she’s picked it up as well. Rather than remind her that he’s Dad, not Munchkin, Tim moves his hand to her side and tickles beneath her backpack strap.

“Dad, dad, stop!” she yells through her giggles.

Tim relents, smiling as he waves to her teacher and turns toward the parking area. As he walks, he listens to Anderson talk about her day. When she hesitates before talking about what she and her friend Marcie did at recess, Tim fights the urge to get protective.

“Did you play any games?” Tim asks as he places her in the booster seat.

“We played fairies!” she answers, perking up again to explain what her fairy looks like.

Tim nods along, but his mind drifts back to her sudden pause. He’ll wait for her to bring it up, he decides… or for you to get home.

“What do you want for dinner, my little fairy?” Tim asks as he looks in the pantry.

“Are you getting divorced?” Anderson asks, her voice soft behind him.

Tim freezes with his hand on a container of flour. He has no idea where she came up with the idea; he’s never said it, which means she must have heard it at school. Or, worse, he thinks suddenly, from you. Shocked, with his mind racing, Tim doesn’t realize that his silence has misled Anderson. When she begins crying, Tim turns quickly. He shakes his head, confused and desperate to know if you mentioned divorce around her, which only makes it worse. Anderson’s cries turn to sobs, so Tim lowers to his knees and pulls her close. She clings to his neck, crying against his shirt, and he can only rub her back.

“It’s okay, baby, it’s alright,” Tim whispers.

Anderson hiccups and shakes her head. “No!” she wails through her cries.

Tim shifts back, leaning against the cabinets as he pulls his knees up to hold Anderson as tightly as possible. Anderson needs time to calm down, so nothing Tim says now will help. Convinced that he can’t help his daughter, Tim is forced to return to the question of where she came up with the idea that you were getting divorced.

“We love you, Anderson,” Tim promises.

You stretch your neck to the side as you exit your car. As you walk toward your front door, you smile because it’s Friday. So, Tim and Anderson are already home, likely making dinner and messing up your kitchen. It’s the most family time you get all week, even with Tim’s new Sergeant schedule. The door is closed and locked, which is unusual. Usually, you’re greeted by Tim, your daughter, or both. Shrugging, you fish your keys out of your bag and let yourself into the house. Rather than the television, music, or laughing, you’re greeted by your daughter crying and Tim whispering. Rushing toward the kitchen, you stop when you see Tim sitting on the floor with a visibly distraught Anderson curled against his chest.

“What happened?” you ask softly, stepping toward them carefully.

At the sound of your voice, Anderson begins crying harder, harsh, hiccupping sounds before she pants for air.

“Tim?” you inquire.

Anderson takes several short breaths as she stands and maneuvers out of Tim’s lap. When she reaches you, she wraps her arms around your legs and presses her face against you. You place your hands over her hair and look at Tim, wide-eyed as he stands and wipes his cheeks.

“She, uh, she asked if we were getting divorced,” he explains quietly.

“What did you say?” you ask, slightly more accusatory than intended.

“Nothing. She- I don’t know where she even heard about it!”

“Anderson,” you coo, carefully bending to smile at her. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re divorcing Dad,” she whispers, heartbroken.

You shake your head and take her hands in yours. “No, I’m not, sweetheart.” You lean closer, conspiratorial as you add, “He’s stuck with me.”

“You’re not?” Tim asks.

Your brows furrow as you look up at him. He shrugs, and you realize he thinks Anderson heard you talking about it.

“Anderson, where’d you hear about divorce?” you inquire.

“Marcie,” she answers shyly, attempting to drop her head against your side again. “She said her mom or dad aren’t living with her anymore.”

“Alright,” you murmur as you pull Anderson into your arms and stand. Looking at Tim, you smile and request, “Order us pizza and then meet us in the living room?”

“Sure,” Tim agrees. He toys with his wedding ring while on the phone with your favorite pizza place. Though his worries have lessened since you returned, especially after hearing that someone at school introduced the topic to his daughter, Tim is still eager to hear everything. “Twenty minutes,” he tells you as he lowers onto the couch beside you.

You offer your hand behind Anderson, and Tim happily takes it in his. As you begin speaking, he notices that your wedding ring is on Anderson’s finger.

“Anderson, your dad and I aren’t getting divorced, okay? We love each other so much, but we love you even more,” you explain. “Marcie’s parents will always love her too, even if they don’t live together.”

Anderson nods and leans against Tim’s side. She’s not old enough to hear about his previous divorce from Isabel, but he knows that he needs to acknowledge the topic, the same as you.

“Yeah, Munchkin,” he teases. “We love you so much that we’re never letting you go. You’ll be with us like a baby kangaroo in a pouch.”

Anderson laughs, then, as kids tend to do, she changes the subject. “Can I draw a picture?” she asks.

“Of course,” you answer. “Grab your color case and come back, I want to watch.”

“Okay, Mommy!” she cheers as she slides off the couch, leaving your ring on Tim’s thigh.

Tim watches her with a smile, then picks up your ring and turns to you. “Sorry I freaked her out.”

“You didn’t look too good yourself, there, Sergeant,” you reply.

Tim rolls his eyes and raises your left hand to put your ring in its rightful and permanent place.

“I mean, after all this time, you should know that I’m never letting you go. Marrying an Abercrombie model-level-hot cop is a once in a lifetime thing,” you tease, leaning toward him.

“Is that how it is?” Tim challenges.

“You’re right. You are the lucky one, I’m a catch.”

Tim’s eyes soften as he takes your hand and murmurs, “Yes, you are.”

“You want cuddles tonight don’t you?”

“I just spent an hour in the kitchen floor worried that you were divorcing me, what do you think?”

“Mom!” Anderson calls as she returns with her drawing items. “Can I draw us at the beach?”

“At the beach?” you repeat excitedly. “Absolutely.”

“I love you,” Tim says.

“I love you,” you reply – promise.

“Me too,” Anderson agrees before deliberating between blue and gray for the clouds.

Bonus:

“Wait, wait, Anderson asked if you were getting a divorce, and your mind immediately went to my wife is leaving me without telling me? The woman who treats you far better than you deserve and kind of settled for you?” Angela asks.

“The insults felt a bit unnecessary, but, yeah,” Tim answers. “What else was I supposed to think?”

“She’s six, Tim, kids her age have no filter. If someone in her class hears a word, she’s going to hear it,” Wesley points out.

Tim tips his head back and groans.

“I’m with Wesley on this one,” Nyla chimes in. “You should’ve asked instead of freezing, which to most kids sounds like, yep.”

“I’m still stuck on the fact that you could even think she’d leave you,” Lucy muses. “She loves you, like, a concerning amount.”

“Never took you for the insecure type, Bradford,” Nolan adds.

“It’s not insecurity,” Wade interjects. “Not wanting to lose the love of your life is a whole ‘nother thing.”

“Dad!” Anderson yells as she runs toward the table.

“Sorry,” you apologize, approaching behind her.

“Yeah, clearly, she wants to divorce you,” Angela tells Tim.

“Well,” you begin, wrapping your arm around Tim’s shoulders as you stand beside his seat. “I guess we’ve just got this marriage thing figured out more than Marcie’s parents.”

Tim smiles at you, and you barely catch Angela exclaim, “Marcie’s mom from PTA? That witch had more than a divorce coming.”

[bunnys-kisses]

Hiii, could I get a carrot cake and churros with a side of root beer with john price? Thank you sm 🫶🫶

bakery menu

want to suggest your own order? check out the menu! there are tons of options to choose from! i write for fandoms outside of call of duty so please check it all out! mean!price has my heart! he doesn't have time for whiny subs so he just shoves it in your throat to shut. you. up. i hope you enjoy!! <3

carrot cake ("swallow it. all of it.") + churros ("if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?") + root beer (filming/recording) served by capt. john price (call of duty)!

cw: smut/pwp, oral sex (price receives), rough sex, mean dom!price, facials, cock slapping, dirty talk, implied baby trapping, american solider!reader, power dynamics, implied daddy issues, manipulation

"you like this, don't ya? ya like when you have a camera in your face. ya fuckin' attention whore." price said in a dangerous tone.

you looked up at him with a mouth full of his cock. this wasn't how a soldier should be. they should stand with pride for their country, not have their commander's leaky cock run across your face, smearing clear pre-cum across the bridge of your nose. price liked when he got the sticky substance all over your face. only second to having it stuffed into your aching pussy. bareback of course, if you got pregnant then there was a nice little cottage out in the countryside of england where you can raise the little one(s).

"captain." you panted, almost heaving from the lack of oxygen, "why are you filming me?" your bottom lip wobbled a little.

"sweet fuck, baby girl." he said as he shoved his cock up into your face, almost slapping you in the eye, "if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full till you pass out. okay? now be good." and groaned when you started to suck him off again.

you craved approval, since your transfer from america to england. you had be eager to impress the older captain. you had seen how decorated he was. which was why you were eager to let him be so intimate with him. at first it was quick fucks once in a while in empty offices or storage closets. and while it was all fun and games (that fed your weird daddy issues), price wanted more. price had learned from his time in the forces to not let a good thing pass him by.

to keep anything in the military, it meant digging your nails into it. marking it, branding it as your own. and you had a little 'j' on your thigh. price's mark on you, or the only one you had for now. just as price's filthy words stung you in an erotic way, his praise built you up.

"you look good on your knees. always so eager to do more. you're a greedy girl, but that's what i like about ya. starvin' for me. knowin' i'll give it to ya."

you whined in response. fuck, you were perfect. price felt like he needed to give laswell the nicest bottle he could get for transferring you so far away from your home base. where you easily fell into price's arms and let him bully your tender throat.

he already bruised the skin with bites, might as well bruise the inside too. let your voice grow hoarse and need to rely on him more. his goal was to have you dependent on him. but, all things came with time.

"perfect girl for me. i bet they'll love this." his voice was low. you still didn't know why 'they' were.

regardless, you looked up at him and the camera, spit around your mouth. picture perfect. you looked better when you weren't asking questions, running your mouth when you should be using it for other things. you squirmed from your spot on the floor, shifting your knees. it hurt being on the hard ground for so long, but you'd be staying there until price was done with you. or finally broke and needed that sweet cunt of yours.

in reality, he was filming you for his team. he had been talking (gloating) about the solider who is more eager to be on her knees than fight. he talked about how he could probably break your neck if he choked you hard enough or suffocate you on his cock. not that price would ever do that. no, no, his little transfer was needed for something much better.

carrying on the price name. tonight he wasn't going to touch your pretty pussy, he knew you were wet from the sight of the phone in your face. but he had to make you more desperate, that you'd throw caution (protection) to the wind and let price decorate your insides with his seed. the video tonight was a teaser for his boys, to show what is possible to get with hard work and determination. all that ra-ra bull crap to keep his team motivated. that if they were good and played their cards right, then a little bird would easily be theirs.

price knew he worked with a few womb bruisers, and he wasn't an exception.

not the price wanted to share you, but he knew you had some friends back in the states. and maybe they'd as easily charmed as you were. they build 'em nice in america, perfect for a brute like the ones on 141. he continued to fuck your mouth, letting you drool and make a mess of his cock.

the camera was a little shaky, and you had a hard time focusing on it in front of you. it wasn't meant to be professional. it was more a showcase of the capabilities of the united states forces. loyal to country and the cock put in their faces. it was cute.

"why don't you tell the boys 'ello." price chuckled as if you could talk. he'd be surprised if you could forma thought right now that wasn't the eight inches of cock in your throat. that's alright, the future mrs. price didn't need to be thinking. let your husband do all the talking and thinking, okay? you just sit there pretty with the kids.

you opened your eyes a little and made a small noise. everything felt on high alert, over saturated to hell and it made your head throb. your cunt was almost cramping from the need to have price inside of you. messing up your poor pussy. but right now you'd have to settle on having your mouth used. and you wouldn't dare try to touch yourself, it was better to be on price's good side than bad.

"yeah, there she is. still got some brains left in her." price chuckled as he pinched your cheek with his rough hand, "c'mon, darling. give the boys a smile."

you tried to smile with cock in your mouth and it made price even more turned on. always so perfect. no wonder they let you into the armed services, you were obedient like a dog. your smile dropped as price fucked your face even faster.

you brain couldn't keep up with your movements, you were like a toy to price. and that was how he liked you, blissed out and used for his pleasure. he also used you for his aggression when the shooting range was clothes. it was almost the same, he wasn't firing blanks either way.

price pulled out and stroked his cock quickly to cum on your tongue, but missed for the most part and got it all over your face. he groaned and relaxed, the phone almost tumbled out of his hands. "swallow it. all of it." he said, expecting you to clean up his mess. old man couldn't even cum straight. he patted your cum covered face while you tried to get it off your skin before it dried.

the captain got close into your face with the camera, showing how the creamy cum gleamed on your skin. he took you by the jaw and chuckled, "ah, there she is. pretty girl." you whined and he added, "see boys, take good care of 'em, you won't go runnin'. now darling what do we say the captain when he makes ya feel good?"

you opened your eyes a little, a rivet of cum went down your lips as you said, "thank you captain price." and was met with a rough pat on the cheek.

price stopped filming, putting his phone to the side. a pretty blissed out thing on the floor of his office deserved a reward. instead of carpet burn on your knees, it was going to be all over your back. <3

[lxvvie]

Call of Duty, Father's Day edition:

Just fatherly things, or how you honor the men in your life on this special day.

Capt. John Price - Price never asks for much, just your safety and happiness, but the kids wanted to give him presents for Father's Day, so you do. A new hat that looks like all the others but more expensive, a new mug for his tea, and kisses galore on his chonky cheeks. What more could the Cap'n ask for?

Gaz - Kyle just wants to hold his family in his arms, so he does. He didn't think he'd make it back in time to be here with you guys but he did and he's so damn happy. Now he and the little ones can get caught up on the latest gossip.

Alex Keller - It's not too often that he gets to do this. You all enjoyed his favorite breakfast with him: a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. It's worth the sugar rush you know Keller and the kids will experience afterward.

Soap - Soap's been meaning to help his girls with their cheer practice so you honor him by... letting him be the bottom of the pyramid. With his cheer uniform on. And Whiskey keeps licking his face. You took a photo and he'll never live it down. The wee ones laugh every time.

Ghost - The Missus™ achieves his dream of sleeping in today with his girls right beside him. There's Simon, his big arm wrapped around his kids who're cuddled up against him, and Pup by his feet sleeping peacefully. He'll wake up to a wonderful gift courtesy of his girls: a pink shirt that says Princess Daddy in glittery letters across the chest, and it's adorned with a tiara, too? Missus Princess Daddy™ is life, Simon. You cannot escape it lmao.

Alejandro - Alejandro wakes up to his kids tackle-hugging him in bed. There's breakfast and a card with heartfelt messages on it. They're very proud of their papa for everything he does and continues to do for them. Oh, and he's about to be a papa again. Best Father's Day gift ever, amirite? Congrats, Alejo!

Rudy - Oh, you let the mother hen rest today. Rudy loves to pamper and cater to his family but now it's his turn to be pampered and catered to. The house? Clean. Dinner? Cooking. Kids? Loving on Rudy. All is as it should be.

König - The kiddo's Father's Day gift has been pranking König something fierce all day and all you can do is shake your head in faux exasperation and revel in the gremlin laughter (from both of them) echoing throughout the house. You'll have his favorite meal for dinner.

Horangi - Today, Horangi is being honored by his kid beating him in card games. Repeatedly. And Horangi trying to figure out how and why this is happening lmao.

Graves - Graves is also pretty content with his lot in life. You and Boss Baby Graves give him a gift card to a spa he's been wanting to try. And then you get his ass by having some of the men from Shadow Company call and wish him a Happy Father's Day and call him Dad. Real cute, darlin'.

[majinbangus]

I literally just wanted a sugar daddy/mama!au. Maybe I'll talk about sugar daddies!141 x sugar baby!reader after this. I am not an expert in sugaring, so bear w me here. readers age is not told either, but i imagine reader to be younger than price.

Times are tough; the 141 need funding the government isn't willing to cough up. Price's solution? Getting them a sugar mama.

-

You never expected your profile to be picked. It was a silly thing you signed up for in a moment of weakness when you were feeling sad and lonely, wallowing after a messy break up. You even forgot about it after a week, throwing yourself in your self-made business, working when you didn't have to, but you needed to bury yourself in it. It's no surprise you forgot all about your little profile, but it is a surprise when you see a missed inquiry from a Mr. John Price about a day old.

Hello, darling. I've never been on this side of the message before, but my boys and I don't have many options, and I needed a solution fast. I saw your profile and I think you'd be a good match for us. We're a package deal, the four of us. You don't have to pay us exactly, we just need some funding for our work. My boys and I are willing to provide you with any type of company you desire. We don't mind sharing and we take care of what's ours. There are other little details we can go more in depth later, although I might not be able to tell you everything. I'd like to hear what you have to say and any questions you may have. Hope to hear from you soon, Capt. John Price

Everything about the message is... strange... to put it kindly, but you can't help but feel this Capt. John Price is being sincere. Maybe that's a naive, lonely part of you that's convincing yourself that the message is real and not some scam. Maybe you're desperate enough to believe someone- four someone's!- actually have an interest in you.

For what you can give them, but you're not entirely innocent either. This Captain Price- you assume he's military- said he and his boys will give you what you need, and if he's a man of his word, maybe they can distract you from all the noise in your head.

You stare at the message. It wouldn't hurt to take a risk, would it? You can always block the man if he ends up being a creep.

It takes you an hour to finally work up the nerve to craft a small message back to the man. It takes less than a minute for him to respond.

Glad to hear from you, darling. I'll tell you everything you need to know.

-

The rules are simple.

You fund them with enough money each month they need it for however long they need, and they'll give you all the companionship you want. Whether that's sexual or not is up to you. It doesn't matter to them, though John informed you that if it is sexual, you would need to discuss any limits with the other men yourself. With him, you got to briefly stutter through your likes and dislikes, and he did the same, after discussing all of the rules and expectations.

You don't know if you should be thankful or not when he listened with such intense focus. Like you were briefing him on a mission or whatever it is captains like him do. It makes you nervous. He makes you nervous. Not quite in a bad way, but you've never done this before. The idea of paying another person, well this task force, in exchange for some company to fill your pathetic void feels kind of... sad.

You almost talk yourself out of this whole crazy thing, but you're also kind of curious what could come of it. If John and his boys will really be able to distract you and make you forget how lonely you are.

Being alone, being lonely, never really bothered you before, but after your last relationship... It opened up some old wounds and this sugar arrangement could be the perfect distraction. If only for a while. You'll take whatever you can get at this point.

You look over the messages John sent you, lingering over the pictures he sent of him and the other three men. Well. Two men. John told you this Simon guy would show you his face himself if he wanted to. You don't know if it's a sexual thing or not or something else entirely. You were too afraid to ask, and you don't really know if you want to know. But the other three are handsome, if the pictures John sent aren't fake.

You're still not entirely sure you should trust him. Trust that you're not gonna get all your money stolen. The site you signed up on is reputable for sugar mamas and sugar babies. You couldn't find a bad review written about it. Only positive testimonies with positive outcomes. That could be suspicious in and of itself. Hopefully, you didn't make a mistake.

John said that he would meet you next week when he had time off. Alone. In a public space, but alone. He said he didn't want the boys to overwhelm you, and you're grateful for his consideration because you would have been overwhelmed if you met all of them at once.

You still have time to cancel, if the nerves get to you and you chicken out. John even told you you could back out any time you wanted. But. You want to do something different. You need to do something different. Get yourself out of your head and focus on anything else that doesn't make your mind feel like static.

These men can help with that. This'll be good for you. Probably.

As long as this doesn't end up with you mysteriously disappearing or getting murdered, you'll be content with whatever happens. Besides, it's good to do something out of your comfort zone, and what better way than becoming a sugar mama to four military men who can give you all the company and care you could ever want? Hell, that sounds weird to think about.

There are still little things you have to work around, such as their schedules, but John promised that at least one of them would always come when you called. Already, that gives you more comfort than he could ever know, and perhaps that's foolish of you, but it truly meant a lot when he told you that.

You scroll down to the last message John sent and feel something in your gut flutter.

Can't wait to meet you, Mama.

-

this might an anthology of sorts. maybe have some loose plot to it. idk.

[hardboiledleggs]

Tattoo Artist Eddie Munson Part 2

Part 1 Here!

I could kiss all of you consensually on the mouth, you were so nice about part 1 I cried several times. Here is the long awaited part 2, which I am considering turning into a full length fic on ao3 so if anyone wants to follow me there here it is! Sorry it is so short! This is mostly a stepping stone for my plan for part 3. As always, if anyone would like to be added to my permanent Steddie fic tag list or the tag list for this fic specifically, let me know below :)

~~~

As a general rule, Steve considers himself a confident person. Unfortunately, there’s something about Eddie Munson that reduces him to a nervous, sweaty wreck with decidedly NOT perfect hair. Every time he pulls the now well-worn scrap of paper with Eddie’s number from his pocket, his heart rate jumps to an unhealthy level, and he stuffs it away. This has, of course, royally pissed off Robin Buckley.

“I mean, Jesus Christ, Steve. What is the point of getting a cute guy’s number if you aren’t even going to use it? I think I would have called him more than you have by now, and he doesn’t even have boobies!”

Steve crosses his arms and lets out a disgruntled huff. “Look, I told him some seriously personal stuff, okay? I doubt he even wants me to call him.”

Robin shoots him a deadly glare as she restocks the chocolate chunk ice cream, her stern look tempered slightly by her ridiculous sailor outfit. Scoops Ahoy is an okay place to work, all things considered, but Steve has considered reporting the ice cream shop to the Better Business Bureau for the uniforms alone.

“Why the hell would he give you his number, then? Please don’t be a dingus,” she snorts as she wipes an arm across her sweaty forehead.

“He probably felt bad for me, okay? Seriously. If I had told you that story, you wouldn’t be like ‘Wow, can’t wait to jump his bones!’ You’d think I was a pathetic dude with daddy issues,” Steve groans, flopping forward against the counter. His track record with guys had been, so far, awful. It was hard enough to be a bisexual man in the 80s, let alone in a small town in Indiana. One wrong move, the wrong word, and he could be arrested or worse. It didn’t give a guy a whole lot of confidence.

“For the record, I wouldn’t have wanted to jump your bones regardless, but whatever,” Robin says dryly. Her eyes are soft as she catches his arm. “Just don’t let yourself lose out on something nice ‘cause you’re scared, okay?”

Steve doesn’t look at her as he tugs out of her grip and starts organizing the spoons.

~~~

Eddie Munson has always hated places like the Starcourt Mall. There are always way too many people, too much erroneous noise, and the workers start to follow you around the store if you start touching everything that looks like it might be soft. However, even he cannot deny the hypnotic pull of a brand-new Tower Records shop.

Weaving in between soccer moms and bubblegum-chewing teenage girls, he skids around a corner and gazes above the heads of the crowd, trying to spot the Tower Records logo amongst the perms. Nothing catches his eye except a blue and red neon sign flashing ‘Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlor’ across the mall. Figuring there were worse places to take a break and get directions, Eddie shrugs and fights his way through the crowd and steps into the nautical ice cream parlor.

The man at the counter has his back to Eddie, but upon hearing Eddie’s boots squeak on the linoleum he turns and begins to recite sullenly, as if from a drilling manual; “Ahoy, are you ready to set off into an ocean of flavor with me as your capt-“

Steve snaps his mouth shut when he makes eye contact with Eddie. In comparison, Eddie’s mouth is gaping like a beached trout, and he doesn’t seem to have the capacity to shut it, because Steve, “tattoo boy who he had moaned and whined about to Argyle for literal hours” Steve, is standing right in front of him in tiny shorts and a sailor’s hat and is that lip gloss?

His face is on fire, smoke might be coming out of his ears, but he can’t bring himself to look away from the shorts. Apparently, the Scoops Ahoy motto was “Serve ice cream and invade Eddie Munson’s wet dreams for at least a month!” Eddie shifts his weight from foot to foot, his discomfort growing as the silence stretches longer. It had been days since they’d met, and Steve hadn’t called once. Wayne had gotten so sick of him asking if he had any messages that he’d threatened to tear the phone out of the wall.

“Well, hiya Stevie. How’d that ink turn out? Thought I might get to hear about it after you left, but I think my phone might be busted? That, or my uncle is lying to me about not getting any messages.” There. False bravado. The tried and true method of any queer man about to get rejected by an obscenely handsome ice cream salesman.

“I’m sorry,” Steve blurts. His hands twitch, as though he wanted to reach across the grimy counter but thought better of it at the last second. “I didn’t know how to call you and… so I didn’t.”

His face is ashen, full lips parted as he breathes. Eddie thinks he might never see a more beautiful thing in his life, but he takes a step back, a false grin stretching his lips into a practiced and careful expression.

“Hey, man, no big deal. I misread things. It happens! You were darling, and I am well-known for my sweet tooth.” He smiles a real smile this time and holds out his hand to shake. “No hard feelings as long as you can point me in the direction of the new record store?”

Steve stares at his ring-clad fingers for too long before he turns and starts to wrestle with the junky cash register on the counter. Something snaps as he yanks it open and fumbles for the receipt paper, tearing off a sheet and beginning to scribble furiously. Eddie is just thinking to himself that this guy must think he’s too stupid to remember one or two sentences of directions when the paper is shoved into his outstretched hand. Steve has scrawled his full name and number in thin, slanted handwriting.

A bubble of hope rises in Eddie’s chest as he stares at the piece of paper in his hand. This isn’t platonic with a capital P. Or at least if it is, the universe is mean and should reevaluate how it operates.

“This way you can call me, because I’m a total chickenshit and am definitely terrified of you,” Steve declares as he gnaws on his bottom lip. “Or if I fucked it up that’s whatever and I get it. The record store is like 15 stores down to the right.” He looks like a puppy someone had kicked and left out in the rain.

“When is your shift over? Or rather, when will you be home and sitting by the phone?” Eddie asks in a breathless rush.

Steve’s face brightens with a shy but triumphant smile. “I’m off at 7, home by 7:15!”

“7:30, loverboy. I need a ride.” The pane of frosted glass behind Steve slides open, revealing a pretty girl in a similar uniform to her coworker, although her outfit isn’t having quite the same effect on Eddie as Steve’s is. Grinning like a hyena, she pulls a whiteboard out from behind her and uncaps a marker, putting a single tally in a column labeled “You Rule” that has thus far remained empty. Steve tosses a waffle cone at her head, which she ducks, before sliding the panel shut once more.

“7:30 then. Got it. Expect my call, big boy,” Eddie bows theatrically. He steps backward, attempting a suave exit, and spins around before he can say anything else horrific and embarrassing like “Need a skipper for your next voyage?”

As he is hurrying out of the shop, he hears a crash and a shout of “Buckley, you are so dead!” Eddie grins and stares down at the phone number in his hand, trip to the record store completely forgotten. Steve Harrington had no idea what he was signing up for.

~~~

If I tag you in error I am so sorry!! Please message me or comment and I will take you off no hard feelings I am super frazzled by the response to this series and very likely have screwed up this list. If I missed your name feel free to absolutely roast me in the comments :) I can take the heat

Tag list (Holy moly here we go) - @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @throwbackthrowaway @vampireinthesun @mightbeasleep @steve-the-hairrington @nelotegreitic @swimmingbirdrunningrock @thehumblefigtree @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @idsellmysoulforsteddie @toobluebrunette @azreadytodie @rainydays35 @luna-munson83 @sl1187 @artiststarme @bethebitch @ultrarainbowunicorn100 @doilooklikebees @this-is-moony-lovegood @impeachy @grimmfitzz @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @maya-custodios-dionach @brassreign @kurumeki @zerokrox-blog @starxlark @chaoticvictorianspirit @2nd-star-2-the-rhgt @adankrivervalleynearyou @yikes-a-bee @e0509 @babyblender @shinekocreator @hope-can-be-your-sword @hellomynameismoo @knitsforthetrail @thegingerrapunzel @blindbisexualgoose @4nemo1egend @piningapple @aceflavouredyougurt @cyranyx @fruitandbubbles @eyesofshinigami @thefreakandthehair @prettyboyandthemetalhead @void-library @steddio @jjoesjonas @vecnuthy @twiggspots @spectrum-spectre @henderdads @sweetcreaturetm @morning-rituals @inmoonywetrust @kyoxyukiforever 

[televisionpromos]

Doctor Odyssey 1x07 "Oh, Daddy!" Promo - As Max, Avery and Tristan navigate their relationships, Capt. Massey's brother arrives with an unexpected guest.

[theboarsbride]

Heehee I have very little drafted for this Sir-John-fic-turned-book but this is uhhh......something... SUPER rough, this is literally just word vomit-

I cannot say I ever held attraction towards my husband, having wed him at two-and-twenty to his fifty. But there was certainly an affection between us—something I’d come to treasure, as it felt like a rarity in marriages made out of eagerness for money and company. We at least shared an aversion to children, for one reason or another, and he seemed devoid of a sexual appetite the way most men were, so, in come capacity, I appreciated that about him. I never feared for my virtue when around him.  I hesitate to call it love [...] Never did he put a wrong hand on me, and a space had always been kept between us in bed. I only recall one occasion being held by him—in bed. It was winter, the coals had died in our fire [...] and he seemed so afraid that I were to freeze to death in the night that he turned, asked me in my ear if he’d the permission to hold me for warmth, and when I nodded my consent, he did just that. Arms held against my stomach until my back pressed against his torso, which had become rather plush with age, and his nose found itself nestled within my hair [...] In that moment, I wondered if this was how grieving widowers loved new wives, holding tightly onto them for fear of losing them, too. I’d never felt so wanted before in my life, and so, I sank into his hold. I’ve never felt like a wife before until that cold night. [...] Now that he is gone, I wish he had held me more.

WIP game

Thank you @morgan-the-lonely-brick for the tag! <333

rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have wips.

lol my WIPs exist as increasingly strange acronyms lmfao-

TAMW Draft II

TBWH Draft II

GPTH Draft III

UHBH Draft I

SWtFoaPB Draft I

I tag @arabellaelynch @daincrediblegg @raph-fangirl @charismat1c-megafauna @dravenscroft and whoever else may want to participate!!! <333

[grumpymirelurkqueen]

One question has been on my mind for a long time.

I think everyone will hate me. I'd send hairdresser addresses for Alejandro, pink orthopaedic shoes for Price with a note ‘Pour tes jours sombre à la maison de retraite’ for his 40th birthday. (all in French just to piss him off even more). I'll shrink Ghost's trousers so he can rip them off and show off his beautiful white heart-shaped underpants. Give a date to Soap to actually send him to Alcoholics Anonymous. I'd be their worst nightmare.

[konigbabe]

NSFW alphabet with (Capt.) John Price

Pairing: John Price x fem!reader

Word count: 2.5k

Tags/Warnings: smut; nsfw; filthy language; p-in-v sex; dirty talk; dom!price; top!price; praise kink; pregnancy kink; breeding kink

A/N: This is essentially my own interpretation of what Capt. Price's NSFW alphabet would look like. | source |

masterlist • faq • taglist • AO3 • ko-fi

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

John is a big fan of aftercare. He would always make sure there is a glass of water in your hand after he's done fucking the soul from your body, give you a cuddle and start the bath for you.

He'd sit you against his chest, head resting on his shoulder as his fingertips trace your soft flesh tenderly while he washes away the smell of arousal and sweat off of your exhausted and used body, allowing you to relax and enjoy the well-earned comfort of his embrace.

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

Your hips; that man is obsessed. He loves leaving his marks on them, hands squeezing so tightly that he can see his own handprints afterwards while you're bouncing on his cock. They're a perfect size and shape for him to clutch - just right in his hands as he ruts into you like a man starved, the intense pleasure he gives you enveloping your body in a cloud of ecstasy.

His arms and hands are your turn-on. The veins prominent as he holds you down, kissing and worshipping your body. Years of physical strain have left scars on them, the same ones you'd always lovingly kiss when he's cradling your head in his calloused hands while you kneel before him, watching as he takes a painfully slow inhale of his beloved cigar, puffing out a cloud of smoke, while you yearn to please him in any way that you can.

“Just like that, doll. You’re so good to me.”

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum)

In the early stages of your relationship, he'd always make sure to pull out just in time for your eager mouth to envelop the head of his cock, tongue swiping on the underside of him as his eyes never leave yours and just as he feels his high nearing, he'd pull out and finish on your face. He likes to admire his work; and once he's done with that, he'll use his fingers to collect his own cum and let you suck it off his fingers.

Nowadays he goes absolutely wild at the idea of fucking some babies into you. He'd make sure you take everything he has to give you, pumping you full of his cum all while whispering sweet yet filthy words in your ear.

"I'm gonna pump you so full you'll be leaking for the rest of the week, love."

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He acts like he doesn't really care and it's not a big deal but he secretly loves the fact that you're younger than him. He isn't really into the whole daddy thing; yet your age gap makes him feel alive again...something he hasn't felt in a long time. Knowing that he's there to take care of you, to show you what no boy your age could've ever shown you, fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

No doubt this man has experience. Not really with one-night stands, he's more old-school; more into getting to know his partner's body, what makes you moan the loudest, what makes you squirm and scream with pleasure. His passion lies in the pursuit of discovering what makes you tick, exploring your body, and finding new ways to make you see the stars, his name slipping off your tongue sweet like honey. Music to his ears.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying.)

Anything where he's able to see your face; let it be missionary with your legs over his shoulders as he pounds into you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping skin filling up the room as his face hovers over yours, watching the way your eyes are squeezing shut tightly - similarly to how tightly you're squeezing his cock - mouth opened in a silent scream...

...or cowgirl; his back pressed against the couch cushions as you bounce on his cock, his eyes lingering at the place you two are connected, how your juices are leaking around his cock and straight on his thighs, the mix of both of you staining his hairs while your nails create a moon crescent-shaped imprints on his war-scarred shoulders.

"Bloody hell, you're such a good girl, doll, takin' me like that."

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Not really goofy, definitely on the more serious side when it comes to sex. That doesn't mean John isn't a teaser, taking his sweet time tantalizing you, dragging out his touches, caressing you everywhere but where you desired his touch the most.

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

I can see Price taking care of himself once in a while. He already has to keep his beard groomed and soft for you, don't want to give you a beard burn again since the last time you weren't able to walk for days because of the discomfort. So he keeps himself trimmed; not too long nor too short, just the right length for you to be comfortable as you're taking him whole, feeling the head of his cock pushing to enter your throat and fill your mouth.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

Depending on the mood, he's a switch; still predominantly dominant but allowing you to take control from time to time, even though he is aware that he has ultimate power over you.

He doesn't mind taking it slow, showing you a more affectionate side of him, savoring his sweet time with you and bringing you to the brink of pleasure with nothing more than the delicate skill of his tongue.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He used to masturbate quite frequently after missions, using it as an outlet to release the pent-up adrenaline from being on the battlefield. However, nowadays he prefers to take out his frustration on you, as he knows you will always be there to gladly take whatever he has to give you.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

I've already written about those before; this man is a sucker for breeding you...but he's way filthier than just that.

At times, he would just sit you down on his cock while being busy with paperwork, still on a base and knowing damn well anyone (especially his very own team) could walk into his office anytime and see you there, warming their captain's cock, head buried in his chest to muffle your pleasure-filled chokes, your body quivering at the sensation of him inside your tight walls, all while John casually goes on about his day, one hand resting underneath your shirt, on the lower of your back, drawing circles on your flushed skin while he reads the files on his desk.

“Look at you, getting all worked up by nothing. What’s wrong, doll? Am I making you nervous?”

“Aw, so needy already. You want me to move, innit? Are you not pleased with me right now?”

L = Location (Favourite places to do the deed)

Price always thought of himself as a gentleman, only taking his partner in the privacy of his bedroom, where you two could spend hours tangled together in the dance of your bodies between the sheets.

However, ever since the first time he made you warm his cock in his base, he found out just how much he likes you bend over his table, one leg beside you, asscheeks spread for him as he nudges his cockhead over your walls, sending shivers of pleasure through your body and watching as your arousal drips on the floor...all while the door remains unlocked.

“Gotta keep quiet, doll, don’t wanna Ghost or Soap seeing you all cock drunk with your captain’s cock, ain’t that right? Or is it something you want? Want me to call ‘em in? See you getting fucked all nice and heavy, doll?”

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

The thought of you. Just knowing how eagerly you respond to him, the way your body quivers when he touches you, the way your heart races when you hear his voice. He can't get enough of you, always craving that feeling of intoxication he gets from your presence but Lord helps you when you dress up just for his eyes, the barely-there lingerie hugging your body in the right places...you know you won't be leaving the bedroom for the rest of the night; not be able to walk tomorrow.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Anything involving violence, blood and degradation. He doesn't mind a little breath play; knowing that the right squeeze of your throat will only add to the overwhelming pleasure your body is filled with, or some spaning, leaving his handprint on your flesh and watching you with an amused grin as you try to sit down the next day, squirming uncomfortably, trying to find just the right position for you sit in so his handprint wouldn't hurt. But that's it, he will never dare to bring a knife or any other sharp object into the bedroom or anything like that.

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

He's undoubtedly a pussy-pleaser. His tongue skilled, fingers always knowing what to do to make you scream. Price absolutely loves watching you with his head between your legs, hands holding your legs over his shoulders while his gaze lingers on your face, on your erect nipples and the way your breasts spread as you arch your back, hand pushing his face into your dripping pussy.

On the other side, he would never say no to you giving him a head. As much as he adores seeing you being so docile underneath his touch, he loves seeing you taking him just as much, watching that one string of saliva connecting your kiss-bruised lips with the head of his painfully swollen cock.

“That’s it, doll, takin’ me so well.”

“That tongue of yours is driving me bloody crazy…just like that.”

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends on the amount of time you have available and how you are feeling emotionally. If you are in the comfort of your own home, he enjoys a slow and leisurely approach, savoring every moment of pleasure he brings you before he even takes his cock out. When the time is short and/or any of you are in the mood, John does like to be rough, pounding into you vigorously, bathing in the bliss of your pleasure. Overall, he still prefers it slow and sensual.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Not a fan. They don't really give him the time he wants to savor you. If nothing else, he's always up for some good old-fashioned fucking, and if he knows that's all you can do, he's more than happy to take you somewhere quiet and fuck you good and proper.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He's pretty much open to whatever idea you might want to try. He's not particularly enthusiastic about taking action independently, but if it will make you happy, he is ready to do whatever you ask him to do.

“So that’s what you want, huh, doll? Really want me to call ‘em and watch? Or do you want ‘em to join too? Can do both.”

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Years of experience on the battlefield had allowed this man to build up his stamina magnificently, even though his best years may have already passed. He may not be the same 20-year-old he once was, and one round may be all he can manage, but that doesn't mean he isn't determined to go the distance or willing to continue with just his sheer will to make it up for you.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

No. He's a practical and old-fashion man + plus he doesn't really believe in the need for toys in the bedroom and you never asked him to bring any either as this man is fully capable of taking care of you with his own skill set.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

No doubt, he is an incorrigible tease. He takes pleasure in it and seems to be addicted to it. Whenever he is around you, he makes sure to touch you, to make his presence known to your body.

His eyes tend to linger on you. The feeling of his gaze making you shiver as you remember the promise he’s made to you last night; all while seated deep within your walls, the head of his cock nudging your cervix as his hands squeeze your hips, skin reddening underneath his touch.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Price is not very vocal in expressing himself. He would rather bury his head in your shoulder and let out a few soft growls and groans but he is certainly a talker; it's mostly just little praises followed by pure filth as he lets the pleasure of the moment envelop him.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He absolutely loves having sex when you're pregnant; it's one of his favourite things about you being pregnant apart from the impending child. Obviously your growing stomach rules out various positions including missionary, which he’s initially disappointed by, but soon realizes how incredibly satisfying it can be when you're both lying on your sides, him thrusting into you from behind with his hand stretched over your bump. It's truly a unique experience, something that you wouldn't be able to enjoy if you weren't pregnant, and it quickly becomes one of your favourite things too.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

I don’t believe John is extremely ripped but not does he have a dad bod. Definitely muscular, especially his arms. I’d say he has soft abs, the kind that becomes prominent when he flexed them. As of his cock; solid 7 inches, curved to the right a little bit; circumcised.

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

It isn’t what it used to be; but that doesn’t mean he’s not capable of keeping up with you.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He takes his sweet time falling asleep; much more prefers to watch you sleep in his arms, on his chest. He adores watching your flushed cheeks return to their normal color, the orgasm bliss leaving your body as you drift into sleep; sometimes he likes to run his fingers through your hair, thinks about the time when he used to dream of a girl like you. Nowadays he’s afraid to fall asleep, afraid that you are just a fewer dream and once he opens his eyes the next morning, you’ll be gone.

[jangosboyz]

Welcome to the RP Blogs of the GAR

We'll be adding to this post as things change, but for now... Enjoy the RP blogs of the clone boys we've got so far! Rules and FAQs will be built up as we go, but for now, see below!

The 501st

Kix: @i-outrank-everyone

Jesse: @one-big-cog-piece

Tup: @tup-perware

Hardcase: @hardcase-ct-yolo

Dogma: @is-that-regulation

Hevy: @hevy-lifter

Echo: @idiot-tamer

Fives: @fives-but-a-10

Rex: @professional-tooka-herder

Commanders

Wolffe: @howl-like-u-mean-it

Fox: @a-1010-is-speaking

Thorn: @every-rose-has-one

Gregor: @its-capt-traitor-to-you

Hound: @massiff-daddy

Interaction Guidelines

Getting flirty/suggestive is cool, but please don’t get explicit with the boyz.

Muses on the dash, muns in the DMs. Pls don’t attempt to DM the boyz.

Feel free to tag us in fics, the muns love their muses and are thrilled to see new stories, but that doesn’t mean the boyz will respond…but they might 👀

Please feel free to tag us in art, so we can reblog it and show love to the artist.

Be polite in the ask box or you may get blocked. Thorn wields the Block Hammer just as well as his Z-6 😜

Please do not tag us in clonecest, incest, rexsoka, twincest, cloneshipping, or underage.

[skullkillercody]

Here's our daddy, Capt Price 😉

[kemetic-dreams]

1938 - PAULINE JOHNSON and FELICE BOUDREAUX, sisters, were once slaves on the plantation of Dermat Martine, near Opelousas, Louisiana. As their owners were French, they are more inclined to use a Creole patois than English.

"Us was both slaves on de old plantation close to Opelousas," Pauline began. As the elder of the two sisters she carried most of the conversation, although often referring to Felice before making positive statements.

"I was 12 year old when freedom come and Felice was 'bout six. Us belonged to Massa Dermat Martine and the missy's name Mimi. They raise us both in the house and they love us so they spoil us. I never will forget that. The little white chillen was younger than me, 'bout Felice's age. They sho' had pretty li'l curly black hair.

"Us didn't have hard time. Never even knowed hard time. That old massa, he what you call a good man.

"Us daddy was Renee and he work in the field. The old massa give him a mud and log house and a plot of ground for he own. The rain sho' never get in that log house, it so tight. The furniture was homemake, but my daddy make it good and stout.

"Us daddy he work de ground he own on Sunday and sold the things to buy us shoes to put on us feet and clothes. The white folks didn't give us clothes but they let him have all the money he made in his own plot to get them.

"Us mama name Marguerite and she a field hand, too, so us chillen growed up in the white folks house mostly. 'Fore Felice get big enough to leave I stay in the big house and take care of her.

"One day us papa fall sick in the bed, just 'fore freedom, and he kep' callin' for the priest. Old massa call the priest and just 'fore us papa die the priest marry him and my mama. 'fore dat they just married by the massa's word.

"Felice and me, us have two brothers what was born and die in slavery, and one sister still livin' in Bolivar now. Us three uncles, Bruno and Pophrey and Zaphrey, they goes to the war. Them three dies too young. The Yankees stole them and make them boys fight for them.

"I never done much work but wash the dishes. They wasn't poor people and they uses good dishes. The missy real particular 'bout us shinin' them dishes nice, and the silver spoons and knives, too.

"Them white people was good Christian people and they christen us both in the old brick Catholic church in Opelousas. They done torn it down now. Missy give me pretty dress to get christen in. My godmother, she Mileen Nesaseau, but I call her 'Miran'. My godfather called 'Paran.'

"On Sunday mornin' us fix our dress and hair and go up to the missy's looking-glass to see if us pretty enough go to church. Us goes to Mass every Sunday mornin' and church holiday, and when the cullud folks sick massa send for the priest same's for the white folks.

"We wears them things on the strings round the neck for the good of the heart. They's nutmeg.

"The plantation was a big, grand place and they have lots of orange trees. The slaves pick them oranges and pack then down on the barrel with la mosse (Spanish moss) to keep them. They was plenty pecans and figs, too.

"In slavery time most everybody round Opelousas talk Creole. That make the words hard to come sometime. Us both talk that better way than English.

"Durin' the war, it were a sight. Every mornin' Capt. Jenerette Bank and he men go a hoss-back drillin' in the pasture and then have drill on foot. A white lady take all us chillen to the drill ground every mornin'. Us take the lunch food in the basket and stay till they done drill out.

"I can sing for you the song they used to sing:

"O, de Yankee come to put de nigger free,

Says I, says I, pas bonne;

In eighteen-sixty-three,

De Yankee get out they gun and say,

Hurrah! Let's put on the ball.

"When war over none the slaves wants leave the plantation. My mama and us chillen stays on till old massa and missy dies, and then goes live on the old Repridim place for a time.

"Both us get marry in that Catholic church in Opelousas. As for me, it most too long ago to talk about. His name Alfred Johnson and he dead 12 years. Our youngest boy, John, go to the World War. Two my nephews die in that war and one nephew can't walk now from that war.

"Felice marry Joseph Boudreaux and when he die she come here to stay with me. There's more hard time now than in the old day for us, but I hope things get better.