#My slots are empty as of currently!!

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Genuine question: why doesn’t F@TT have its own bracket, like WTNV does?

Honest answer: I didn't think the fandom was this powerful.

Also, @fattsexyperson exists.

[trying-harder-then-u]

Russian roulette

The gun hit the table with a loud "clank," catching Damien by surprise. He had been enjoying the sound of the wind rustling through the well-maintained trees, but now that a weapon was being chucked around, he reckoned he should probably pay attention. Turning around, he saw Jacob smugly looking down at him, his blonde hair dropping over his deep brown eyes, a spotless white shirt and a pair of tan pants loosely fitting his thin, lightly muscled frame, a gold chain the only jewelry he had. Damien sighed to himself; he should have known that his rich, bratty friend was up to something, but when you get invited to a rural manor for a weekend by the son of the richest oil tycoon this side of the Atlantic, you don't tend to make a habit of saying no. The gun was black with gold and white lines swirling around the barrel and handle; like everything in the house, it looked expensive, and like everything, if Damien broke it, his family would most likely be paying it off for generations.

"What are you doing, Jacob?" he asked, his tone dripping with the exhaustion that comes from dealing with a spoiled brat's shenanigans. "Setting up for the game," Jacobs's shit-eating grin told Damien everything he needed to know: something dangerous was about to go down, and if he didn't stop it, then there was going to be a news story about this in the next 24 hours. In his mind's eye he could see the text flash across the screen: "Heir to oil empire murdered in cold blood by a jealous, impoverished schoolmate." Carefully getting up, Damien weighed his options before deciding to go on with Jacob till he could convince him that whatever he had planned was a bad idea. "What are we going to play then?" "Oh, nothing too complicated, my dear friend." Damien watched unnerved as Jacob opened the chamber of the pistol and put a small pellet in it. "Just some good old Russian roulette."

…

"Are you fucking insane? You do know how Russian roulette ends, right? I thought you were just a dick, but this is fully psychotic." "Oh, calm down, Damien, you worry too much; of course no one's going to die." Jacob pointed the gun at Damien and pulled the trigger, causing Damien to duck for cover as a click sound revealed that it was one of the five empty slots, much to Damien's relief. "How unfortunate; anyways, it's not a real bullet; it's a powerful drug that one of my dad's friends made." "And that's better how?" "It's this whole atomic structural thing. I'm not sure how it works exactly, but anyone hit with it can have their genetic makeup altered simply by the thoughts of the closest person, that isn't themselves, of course." Jacob proceeded to point the gun to his skull before shooting again, another harmless click. "See, I'm playing fair." "Jacob, that is not the point; I don't want to play at all." Damien was confused how Jacob was so nonchalant about this whole thing. Even if this whole atomic restructuring nonsense was real, what did he have to gain from that? "You're so unfun sometimes, but fine, I'll sweeten the deal for you: we play one game, and if I lose, then I'll make sure your parents get a nice cushy job where they will never have to go hungry again." The offer made Damien double back; it was one thing to give into Jacob's flights of fancy, a whole other when he could get his parents out of the rut they were currently in. "Fine, one game." "Great, let's sit down and continue."

Damien held the gun in shaking hands; he knew now that the bullet wasn't able to harm him, but his whole body being at the whims of Jacob was still terryfying even if it was temporary. Click, safe. Jacob, turn now and click. There are only two bullets left, and so a 50/50 chance; no turning back now. Damien's finger moved the trigger and-. Damien felt strange; he couldn't hear anything; the wind in the trees was gone; he didn't hear the gun go off, but this weird state he was in seemed to say he had been drugged; color swirled around him until finally something formed in front of him. Jacob.

"Hey there, dear friend," Jacob's smile seemed more malicious than usual. "Seems like you lose, so I'm going to enjoy the show now." Jacob leaned back; Damien's skin felt like it was crawling; he felt like spiders were crawling all over him, but as he looked to see what was causing it, he almost jumped back in surprise. His skin was changing; it was growing darker. He watched as the melanin in his skin increased until he went from the olive skin tone he inherited from his mother's Italian genes to something much darker; he looked almost African. Not only that, but the calouses from working after school to help his family vanished along with all his blemishes and pimples till his skin was as clear as day, but how was that possible? Damien remembered now the drug; the closest person controlled his atomic structure, but what was Jacob doing to him? He looked up to try and address Jacob, but a punching sensation in his gut drew him to look down, seeing his clothes dissolve away and abs form; the rest of his frame was not neglected either; he continued to bulk up and even felt a couple inches added to his height till he was a goliath of a man; his feet and hands grew much larger, his face grew more chiseled, and his hair shrank back into his head.

He tried to yell at Jacob, but before he could, their faces collided as Jacob passionately kissed Damien. Only moans, slowly deepening in pitch, escaped his mouth. "God, I've been waiting so long for this. You think I'd ever be friends with your poor ass? God, no, you're my plaything now, and don't worry, it's permanent." Damien whimpered as Jacob's hand reached down, grabbing onto Damien's cock, and began to stroke slowly and methodically. Each time Damien felt more confused: where was he, why was he worried about his parents, who was he? His mind slowed as he gave into Jacob, the pleasure overwhelming his mind. His dick grew larger than it had ever been before, 4 inches, now 5, 6, till a 7-inch-long monster was left in its place. Damien's moans grew louder as he neared the end; he just wanted to cum; he didn't know who this strange man beating him off was, but he just wanted him to continue. Jacob continued to go faster and faster, until long streams of hot cum splashed across both of them. up his hand to for Damien to lick clean, which he gladly did, enjoying every taste.

2 months later

He was sitting at home, waiting for his rich boyfriend to get back. He had spent the last 2 months spending every hour he could with Jacob, but with Jacob's school, he had large amounts of time to reflect and learn how to be a good boyfriend, how to cook, clean, and do everything for Jacob. Awhile ago, two older people came around looking for their sun that shared his name, but he told them he had no clue where he had gone. His life was good, but the best part was no doubt every night when Jacob would take control; he would sometimes be pleased and sometimes give pleasure, but regardless, he knew that life would be good when he just went with what his boyfriend said, and man was life good.

[shotmrmiller]

Mistress.

Pairings: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x AFAB!Reader

TW: femdom! reader, slight degradation?, complete and utter submission, masturbation

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley, a hulking giant of a man, a solid figure of authority on base and the reaper itself on the field, passing through the enemy like smoke, taking their lives with him— had a big secret. To find out, even by chance, is a death sentence.

Simon on leave always went home to an empty flat. He just doesn't have the time to meet anyone, and he figures no one would want to have a relationship with someone who leaves for months on end and with little to no communication. But that didn't mean he did not want someone to spoil. Shower them with gifts and the money he accumulated over years of serving because he never had any time to spend it on anything other than basic necessities.

So once he was home, he indulged in his secret. His Mistress. You.

Sending £800 to your bank account, he sent a text.

'I'm home, Mistress.'

A reply, minutes later.

'You paid your tribute. I'll indulge you just this once, but you ought to remember we work on my schedule, not yours.'

'Of course, my Mistress. I humbly apologize.'

'I will be there in 30. You will not make me wait at the door.'

'Yes, Mistress.'

The Lieutenant was always overlooking something or someone on base, so you were perfect for him. You demanded complete control, and if not given, you took it regardless— and nothing was sweeter than having such a large man submit to you and only you.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You arrived outside his door, and without knocking just said, 'Simon.'

The front door was opened almost immediately, and you were greeted with Simon on his knees — you'll never get over how delicious he looks submitting to you even though he's so tall his head reaches your hipbones and you're in heels — with a collar already on his neck and the leash's handle on his raised palm. You step inside and watch him close the door.

'Good boy,' you murmur as you take the handle, 'Look at me.'

He lifts his head as you look down at him and you see his blue eyes soften at your outfit— which you'll never admit you purposefully put on, knowing it's his favorite based on past meetings.

You're wearing a pink latex corset dress with the laces tied tight on the entire back of the dress and the length of the dress reaches your upper thigh. For stockings, you have petal pink, sheer stay-ups, and your shoes are 'So Kate' 120mm in the same rosy color— and to finish the look, you've got on a long, black a-line wool coat that you're currently taking off and putting on the coat hanger by the front door.

Leash in hand, you walk towards the leather couch, hearing Simon's jeans dragging on his carpet as he crawls behind you before you turn and sit, crossing your legs.

"Permission to take your heels off, Goddess."

"Permission granted. You know what to do."

He takes your dainty foot in both his hands and presses his lips on your ankle, before moving on to the bridge of your foot. Squeezing the counter of your heel, he pulls it, and your toes slip from the shoebox— he gives a pathetic moan at the sight of your stocking-covered, white nail-polished toes.

Removing your other heel, he grabs both of your feet and places them flat on the floor before, still kneeling, he lowers his head to worship you, peppering kisses anywhere he can put his lips on.

You extend your toes and press them to his forehead, pushing him back up and away from you.

"That's enough."

He immediately kneels back on his haunches, and you look at his face to take in his body language. Pupils so large his iris is a thin blue ring, cheeks red and blotchy, mouth slightly agape as he let out shuddering wispy breaths.

Yanking on his collar, you open your legs and pull him to slot in between them. How his torso blankets your entire body makes your toes curl— and that he's still in a submissive pose and still massive makes your walls clench.

Simon, biting his lower lip, lets out a loud groan— gripping the side of the sofa cushions by your knees as his eyes gaze directly to the apex of your thighs. Right to your unclothed quim. Simon is the only sub that's ever seen you in any state of undress. He's the only one you'd fuck straight into his mattress if he begged, and he never looked so good than when he's begging you for attention.

You entangle your fingers into his ash-brown hair and pull, hard, to make eye contact and say, 'The next time you stare at anything other than my eyes without my explicit permission and I walk. I'll drain your bank account of every single pound and you'll thank me for it before I cut off all contact. This is your first and last warning."

Simon whimpers a pitiful little noise before jerking his head in an aggressive nod.

"Yes, my mistress."

You yank on his hair hard enough to wiggle his head a little and loudly say,

"Yes, my mistress what???"

He swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing, and proclaims, " Yes, my mistress. I am wholly unworthy of your beautiful gift. I deserve absolutely nothing from you."

Biting your lip, you let go of his hair and drag it down towards his jaw to softly cup his cheek.

In a faint, caressing voice you say, "Good boy. Staying in your place is easy once you're reminded of it."

You recline back, shift your eyes down to the monstrous bulge in Simon's pants before pressing your whole foot against his erection— noticing how there's still about 3 inches that your foot doesn't cover, jesus christ—

"What's this, then?", and you push your foot harder into him, and Simon gives a low moan, from deep in his chest— and he lowers his head, eyes screwed shut and mouth hanging open.

"Well? I asked a question and I did say it in english."

Simon raises his head and his eyes are glossy, scar across the corner of his upper lip whitening with how he thins them before answering.

"Oh, my Mistress, my Queen. I'm just so happy you're here, giving me your complete attention," and in a quieter, vulnerable tone says, "I missed this. Missed you."

That has your heart pounding against your rib cage. You clench your jaw— you cannot show Simon how exhilarated those words make you. You've been harboring the tiniest crush on Simon, and how could you not? Look at him. 6 foot 4, 320 pounds and he submits so beautifully. You'd ruin him. And with the small feel you've gotten from his cock, he'd definitely ruin you. But not now. Simon deserves a reward for being so good and obedient.

"Go on, pet. Show me how much you've really missed me. For you, I'll permit your release." Only for you.

Hands flying to his zipper, he takes his thick, long length out— what a fucking cock it was too, you can't wait to get your hands on it— he starts stroking it, skin bunching up at the flared head on the upstroke and Simon presses his thumb down on his slit. He lets out a hiss as he starts smearing the pre-come around the head and then smooths out the skin on the way down.

Your arm is stretched out holding your weight as you lean to the side, head tilted and you flick your eyes to Simon's face and you startle— Simon's holding direct eye contact, tongue wetting his bottom lip and you can feel heat radiating from your cheeks at the intensity of his stare.

You don't look away though. You stare right into his eyes as the room starts to fill with faster paced, wet, skin slapping noises— and Simon's eyes roll to the back of his head as his eyes close and you look back down to his cock, so hard, swollen red and slippery with his pre-come.

You can hear his teeth grinding together, shoulders stiffening and tattooed forearm vascular with how tight he's squeezing his cock and he chokes out, "Please, Mistress. Let me come, let me come, I'm so close—god"

" Come for your Mistress, Simon. Be a good boy and come for me."

Simon moans loud as his back bows forward and he encircles your ankle with his hand to stabilize himself as his length spurts rope after rope of thick cum inches from your toes— continuously stroking himself through the aftershocks and into oversensitivity.

He puts both palms flat on the floor as he gulps in big shaky breaths, arms trembling slightly. You stand up, carefully stepping around his come, and slip into your heels. Simon raises his head to look at you and— look at that simple, empty expression. You want to sit on that face 'til he repeatedly taps your thick thigh, begging for air— and tell him to clean up his mess. You put on your jacket, close it with the belt and leave.

Your pocket vibrates with a text, and tap the screen to read the text.

Simon: I beg you, my Angel. Let me look at your beautiful pussy as I come, next time.

You: You know what to do.

And then a notification from your bank.

Simon Riley has deposited £4000.

Pressing your phone screen to your chin as hold in a squeal, you cannot wait to get your hands on him.

'Only ever for you.'

A/N: i'd give all the cod boys the gawk gawk without question. at the same time. and valeria can sit on my face til i stop breathing.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Touch-Starved (canon)

══════☸☸☸════════════☸☸☸══════

otherwise known as; the part where The Puppetmaster finds out he has THE FEELINGS(™, patent pending) for the Combat Harlequin. lmfao

══════☸☸☸════════════☸☸☸══════

"Almost..." His hand trembled at the last piece required. He carefully slotted the optics in place, and twisted the eye multiple times to stick it in place. Within moments, he steps back, and Bubble flared up alive again, checking out his new, updated vision. “Wow! I can see more colors now!” The Blimp spun in place.

“Those new eyes should allow you to broadcast anything you see to me, if I so wished.” He explains, pulling out a small, thin black screen from one of the the desk’s many compartment. He switches it on, and Bubble’s eyes suddenly have a tiny red dot blinking in the middle of it.

So far, so good. The device was working as intended and he could see the top of his dentures from Bubble’s perspective, making Caine grin proudly.

“You may proceed to do your chores once more, the upgrades are done.” He sends the blimp to his merry way, and Bubble only nods before turning away to make his way out of the office. He leans back with a content sigh and closed eyes, satisfied with the work done for the day.

At that very moment, Pomni also opens the door.

She looked… disheveled, to say the least.

“Oh hey Pomni!” The butler blimp greeted with his usual reply. The Harlequin only sent him a look of acknowledgement, knowing that it’s useless to try to spark up a conversation, as Bubble was already making his way out.

Caine blinked once, and then he blinked twice just to make sure he’s seeing things right.

Was she always this… dazzling? Literally? He could see sparkles forming everywhere.

She flipped her hair in a messy attempt to get rid of the strands currently stuck to the skin of her nape. Her trademark golden ponytail missing, most likely a B.O.S.S.’s doing. She made her way to Caine’s desk and he swears he could feel his heart beat faster and faster with each step she took. The Harlequin’s trademark squinted brows with half-lidded eyes meeting his own wide stare, a gaze that would typically make any person with a still-functioning sanity cower in fear.

She took a seat on his desk with her legs crossed and her back turned against him and leaning on her right arm, as she usually did.

“Here’s the die you asked for. Took me a bit, but still got the job done.” She checked her left arm for damages after she placed the multi-colored puppet heart in front of him, while she flashed her teeth with a victorious, smug smile. His words are caught in his throat and her entirety shines too brightly for him. He couldn’t understand it.

Why… did she seem like a flame, and he felt like an unsuspecting moth, drawn to her light?

He shook his head clear and forced his stare away from her direction, clearing his throat while clutching the die. “I-I see, thank you, Pomni. You-you’ve done… a… wonderful…” Her hand grasped his own and his heart leapt at his own throat. Her synthetic, calloused fingers felt so rough, yet so gentle against his own gloved ones that he considered taking them off.

“...j-job.” His breath hitched as he struggled to finish the end of his sentence, unable to tear his attention away from her eyes. He found himself gawking at her intense, golden eye matched with blue and red pinwheel ones.

“Aren't you forgetting something, Puppetmaster?” Her expression questioning, yet with a slight and subtle undertone of mischief glinted at her optics. 

He couldn’t speak. He struggled to form coherent words. It felt like he was being strangled by an unknown force clutching at his neck, yet there was clearly no malice behind it. 

“Wh… What am I forgetting…?” He asked in such a feeble tone that made her chuckle in such a low rumbling tone, snaring his full attention.

“Well, I think that I deserve a reward for my services. Don’t you think?” She stands up. Warm hands suddenly felt so cold and empty, and already he missed the warmth present just about a second ago. The Harlequin made her way towards him as he spun his chair to meet her halfway. Hand at her hips as she towered over his sitting form. He’s all of a sudden clutching at the armrest so intensely.

“Y-yes, of course! H-how could I forget!” He nervously chuckles, he would pull on his collar right about now. “What is it you wish to be rewarded with?”

He offers her his best smile, and she giggles as she shakes her head. Without any warning, she took a seat on his lap, and he went frozen. As if making one single move would shatter the very fabric of the universe. She leaned her head to his shoulder, fiddling with the collar of his shirt then her fingers trailed onto the underside of his chin to make him look at her. He shivered from the contact.

“You.”

He trembled as his face warmed up to uncontrollable degrees, and produced visible heat waves. Not even his self-installed coolants were helping him tone down the sudden rise in his body temperature in the slightest. He couldn’t control his shakes, making the Harlequin smirk, knowing that she had the Puppetmaster all wrapped around her finger.

He didn’t know what came over him, because now his own hands were making their way onto her thighs to pull her closer to him entirely, the other shakingly placing itself onto her shoulders and he could feel the way she sighs contentedly against his touch. He exhales a shaky breath himself, attempting to steel himself.

“M-my dear, a-are you positive that… that is what you’d like?”

It was better to be safe than sorry. She sits up straight, and for the first time, he regrets ever asking that question in the first place.

“Actually…” Her voice trails off playfully, while she stands up. “... Maybe I’d like something more.”

It only took her a finger underneath his chin to pull him as she leads him to a nearby wall. As if his own body had a mind of it’s own, he pins her in place with both arms adjacent to her head. His face leans in closer and closer to her with eyes closed, and she’s leaning up close to him, fully ready to accept his advances.

Pomni’s soft lips met his teeth, and Caine could smell the faint traces of grass and sweat rolling down from her synthetic skin, evident of her hardships from the recent battle. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and his loops around her waist to pull her closer, while the other cups at her face intensely. He savored her mouth as their breathing became heavy and fast-paced, only breaking apart for a mere second, gasping for air before delving back in to their desires.

Desire…

Quite the accurate depiction of how Caine truly felt for the Harlequin at this moment. He couldn’t quite decipher when this had started, though.

As if her intentions were to pry him away from his overbearing and unnecessary thoughts, Pomni pushed him away to pin him to the wall this time, continuing the liplock. He grunts from the impact, but gladly returns her enthusiasm with fervor as he loops his arm around her back, pulling her flush to him once more. Her hands made their way to the lower sides of his jaw to caress so gently, and he finds himself melting at every contact their touches made.

Without breaking the teeth-on-lip-lock, he steered their bodies onto the direction of his desk, leaving the Harlequin laying on it as he loomed over her, ravaging her mouth once more like the touch-starved man he was. He adjusted her thighs just enough to make room for him without making the position uncomfortable for the both of them, their heated make out session felt like it could go on forever as he gripped her waist tightly.

It felt like if he let her go, she would disappear all of a sudden. And he didn’t want that.

He made sure to not lean too much of his body weight onto her by propping himself up with his elbows, both hands find themselves cupping her face to keep her in place as her hands trailed all the way up from the lower arms to his shoulders to do the same to him. He broke the kiss to gasp for air, a string of saliva being the clear proof of their heated action, but quickly delved back into the riveting sensations of their activity. 

Her touch against him were like magic; every contact sent shivers and jolts down his spine as she switched from holding his shoulders to holding his chest just above where a collarbone would traditionally be, pushing him away to let herself up. For a nanosecond he thought that maybe he went a little too far with his advances, until she disproved his theory by shoving him to one of the nearby long couches, only a pillow to cushion and soften his landing onto the furniture.

Quickly making up for lost time and contact, she quickly crawls to straddle his waist, clutching the back of his head to make him look at her, and her only. His hand found itself gripping at the back of her waist tightly once more, the other clutching her own head just to make sure she’s still there with him. Both were panting heavily, the room temperature very much heated as a result of their affairs.

His eyes looked at her longingly as he breathed heavily. “Pomni… I… I don’t think I want this to end.”

She flashed him a consoling smile.

The alarm rings, deafening the surroundings as he jolts awake, falling from his chair comically with a loud, slightly high-pitched scream emitting from his throat. He groans from the headache he had received from the impact to the ground, clutching at the top sides of his jaw, as he leans his head onto the desk for support.

His false heart was beating faster than when one would run; His face was flushed and he frustratingly ignores the heat from the rest of his body with a grumble.

He shifts his eyes to look around. Nothing’s changed. Everything was the same since Bubble left to do his daily chores.

He shakes his head and slams his face down onto the elegant desk, groaning depressingly and half-sobbing.

What the fuck? Was… WAS IT ALL JUST A DAMN DREAM!?

Oh, he could scream and cry into a pillow right about now. But the panicked angry screaming of a certain someone being bothered by the recent addition; the Ragdoll Mannequin that was “Ragatha”, suddenly grabs his attention. Now, he’s looking outside into the manor grounds from his office’s windows with a tired and questioning gaze.

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!”

“But Mistress! You still haven’t tried out my trademark cookie recipe!! It’s GUARANTEED to be your instant favorite!”

“STOP CALLING ME MISTRESS! FOR THE LAST TIME, I DON’T CARE, GET THE FUCK AWAY-”

Caine sighed disappointingly to himself, dragging his hand across his eyes.

God fucking dammit. He actually feels something for her.

══════☸☸☸════════════☸☸☸══════

I would say I'm sorry, but we all know I'm not. :)

[apute11as]

Everything happens for a reason ~ Alexia putellas x reader

Author note: The poll was close but I’ve decided to do it as parts as it’s easier for me to get regular smaller posts out with my work and things but I hope you enjoy❤️

⚠️ suggestive themes, slight smut, pregnancy, failed ivf mentions

——

The sun light pierced your blinds, bathing your room in a gentle yellow glow. As your eyes fluttered open, you were met with the beautiful site of your wife’s naked, tattooed back asleep next to you. You knew she’d be tired, as were you after your late night activities that went on into the early hours of the morning, needing to make the most of your time together before a gruelling 2 months likely without seeing each other at all.

You admired the woman next to you, and the way that the light made her tanned skin look ethereal. Tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ears, you pressed a light kiss to her cheek but as you went to bend back up, you felt an unusual lurch in your stomach. Rising immediately, you went to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl. After gagging for a couple of seconds, you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, one that surely belonged to your girlfriend.

“¿estas bien mi amor?” she questioned with a soft look of concern present on her features.

“Si carino estoy bien I think it’s just nerves because of how soon the World Cup is and the pressure that I’m going to be under.” you replied patting her hand that rested on your shoulder.

“Ok if you’re sure let’s get some water” she exclaimed, offering her hand and using her other to lift you by the hips.

As you entered the kitchen, she quickly made you water and a warm cup of coffee which seemed to work pretty well to soothe your aching stomach, a sure sign that this wasn’t a bug but simply nerves.

——

A couple of hours passed and you were feeling almost completely better which definitely helped in reducing your girlfriend’s anxiety. She had helped you with all the finishing touches to packing your bag so that you were now completely ready to go to the airport. Despite the original plan being for you to get a taxi to the airport, after this morning Alexia insisted she drive you in her car, claiming that she could easily divert her taxi to take her to her camp from the airport. After a large discussion, filled with many kisses, you finally agreed.

You planned to leave at 8am but it was currently 7:30 so with half an hour to spare the two of you were cuddled up on the sofa, with Nala settled asleep across both of your laps.

“I’m going to miss you so much amor” alexia whispered into your neck, tightening her grip around you.

“I’ll miss you too Ale, but I’ll see you in the final, when we both get there” you replied, kissing her cheek.

“Hmm” she hummed into you, her hands creeping up your jumper and onto the bare skin beneath it.

“what do you think you’re doing love” you giggled as her cold hands made contact with your exposed midsection.

“Mmm gonna miss you so much” she mumbled as she pulled you into her further, startling poor Nala who preceded to fall into the rug, showing her annoyance with a small bark. At this point, you were now straddling her hips, and she was leaving open mouth kisses on your neck on the marks she’d left last night. She then carefully slotted her thigh in between your legs, trying to make contact though the layers of fabric between her legs and your pussy.

“Ale I need to get ready to go soon or else I’ll miss my check in.” You reminded her but she seemed unfazed as her hand reached your breasts and began to massage them. You moaned as she reached your nipples, allowing her to keep going despite the more logical side to you saying no. However, you draw the line when her hands reach down into your sweatpants to touch your pussy. “Alexia putellas segura you are like a teenage boy are you always horny?” you questioned, whilst simultaneously trying to escape her newfound grip on your hips.

“No I just love you so much bebita and I’m going to miss you and these” she said groping your breasts again.

“Ale stop it I mean it we have to go” you say sternly, finally managing to escape her grasp.

“Fine” she huffed like a child being scolded by their parent. She made a move to stand up but not before giving your ass a smack as she shuffled past you.

“You little-“ you remarked as you began to chase her, Nala joining in with her mami’s playing.

After a painful 15 minutes of Alexia touching you in anyway she can, you finally made it to the car with all of your stuff and Alexia of course opting to carry as much of your stuff as humanly possible, the princess treatment ever present as always. And of course once you had begun your journey, Alexia had placed her hand on your thigh for the entire 30 minutes.

Once you finally reached your destination of the airport, Alexia parked up her Cupra and promptly strolled around the other side of the car to open the door and offer her hand to you so you could get out. Hand in hand, you both ventured to the car trunk to collect your bags, and of course Alexia carried as much as possible; ever the gentlewoman.

So you walked over to the airport hand in hand. After unloading your stuff into the baggage section, it was time to say goodbye to your girlfriend for the next two months. What you hadn’t expected was for the tears to form in your eyes so easily.

“Amor are you crying” alexia asked, her eyes slightly glassy too.

“Yes sorry my love” you responded, letting the tears fall without restraint now as she held you tight in her arms, just had she had after every failed IVF attempt.

“Don’t be sorry I’m just shocked you don’t normally get this emotional I’ll see you soon I promise cariño” she stated with a pitiful smile.

“I think I’m just having one of those days my love I’m really going to miss you” you replied

“And I you guapa” she smiled.

With one last hug, the two of you parted ways and you headed to security and baggage check, boarding pass in hand and unsettling feeling in your stomach.

Once you boarded the plane, you quickly found your seat, it was next to a woman and a small child. Placing your stuff in the overhead storage, you sat down by the window staring into abyss. Around 20 minutes into the flight, the unease in your stomach returned and you suddenly felt bile begin to rise up in your throat. Noticing your discomfort, the woman next to you spoke up.

“are you alright love” she questioned with a maternal glint in her eyes.

“Oh- yes sorry just feeling a bit ill” you replied hesitantly.

“would you like travel sickness tablets?” She asked with a smile.

“Oh no thank you I don’t usually get travel sick” you assured her.

“Well haha I thought the same until I was pregnant with this one here” she said pointing at the toddler asleep next to her.

“I was great with travelling but then I just started to feel sick every time I entered a moving vehicle” she chuckled.

“Oh wow I’m sure I’m not pregnant though” you offered weakly.

“Probably but you never know” she rebounded.

“Actually I took a test the other week we were trying for a while, but after the last negative we’ve decided to give it a break” you replied with a hint of sadness.

“Ah I see but those box tests aren’t always correct, I’m sorry if I’m overstepping here but given what you’ve told me maybe it’s worth taking another” she professed.

“Maybe” you said weakly, offering a small smile.

Throughout the journey your thoughts spiralled, what if you were pregnant and the test had been wrong? How would you explain this to your coaches, to Alexia? The sickness persisted, you excused yourself to the bathroom once or twice, but nothing but dry heaving occurred. The likely reality of your predicament began to settle in and what felt like an extensive flight, despite the fact it was only 2 hours, the plane touched town in rainy England and as you stepped out of the plane, all that you felt was dread.

[silkval]

♟】 the mahogany series- part Ⅲ

thinkin about how your pretty little genshin boys act under your desk...

★fujoshis, wlm and minors please fuck off- you will be blocked★

♢》 whether they were quickly hurried under your desk to hide them from the person who was knocking at your door, oh-so-rudely interrupting the two of you, or the pretty thing crawled under in desperate want of your attention...

kaeya is absolutely the kinda guy who would crawl under there of his own accord. this guy is fucking down bad for you. 24/7 horny.

so, when he slipped his way underneath your desk for the umpteenth time that week, he was unsurprisingly oh-so-tired and already a little tipsy, as he settled down for the night. having entered your chambers with a sly grin and a chaste kiss to your cheek, two glasses of dandelion wine already balanced in his bronzed, lithe fingers as he set them down on the deep mahogany of your desk- his glass, notably, already half empty.

it didn't take long for the poor guy to start brooding at your lack of attention focused towards him- too busy nose deep into the stack of paperwork sprawled across your desk as you muttered out a quick greeting and thanks in return- but nothing more.

oh, and kaeya- kaeya was not having it.

...so, in true kaeya nature, the sly fucker was already bumbling up a plan in his little drunken mind.

and that's how you got to the current situation; the well renowned cavalry captian of mondstand, sat loyally between your thighs.

which wasn't a problem, as it had become a routinely occurance- so you paid no mind as you felt the other male rest his cheek against the muscled curve of your thigh with an inpatient huff, only reaching a hand down to run through his cobalt blue locks- before turning back to your paperwork.

...but was that enough for kaeya? oh, no no no.

so, ever so slowly, his freckled and scarred hands trailed their way up your legs, feather-light touched as a coy smirk curled at his lips. glancing up at you from under your desk, his signature, brilliant grin only growing wider as his lovestruck gaze met with yours- that warning look you shot him going straight to between his legs as your darling boy had to stifle a velvety whimper, sleek hands beginning to tremble as they trailed higher and higher-

...over the curve of your knees,

...ghosting along your muscled thighs,

...dipping into the sensitive plains of your inner thigh,

...ever so slightly dancing over your thick, clothed cock-

and with that, you'd had enough.

your hand shot out, grasping his as a quiet gasp slipped from kaeyas pretty lips, staring up at you as if that wasn't exactly what he wanted you to do.

nevertheless, you only clicked your tongue in feign disapproval, used to the games he played. only reacting with a lopsided, cocky grin tugging at your lips and sending him a pointed look as you leaned back into your chair, staring down at the pathetic male near keening under your gaze- before nudging his plush thighs apart with the tip of your shoes, nearly letting out a mocking laugh as you eyed the rather obvious wet spot between his legs.

no matter how many times you two did this dance, it was always rather amusing; such a confident, seemingly dominant man, known and looked up to by all of mondstandt- a wet, whimpering mess, still untouched.

oh, but you couldn't be that cruel, no? so, with a low hum, you slotted your foot between his legs, the heel of your boot pressing teasingly against his heat as he let out a breathy moan, hands scrambling to grasp onto your thighs in desperate attempt to brace himself, staring up at you with his pretty lips parted with every hot pant, pupils blown wide as you leaned down, lips grazing his ear as a deep, husky drawl slipped from your lips.

'ah- did I say you could touch me, kae? that's what I thought- now, be a good puppy, and stay where you belong- at my damn feet.'

[mangostarjam]

do you think Hoshina is a cold-hands-warm-body person or a warm-hands-cold-body person🤔

(my vote is for cold hands/warm body✨)

this is such a great question bahaha that man has like 0.3% body fat so i actually think he'd run pretty cold all over! but he's always got his hands in his pockets so his hands are for sure freezing. he does exercise/move a lot so i'm sure he warms up fast but he's such a tease (affectionate) that i can def see him sticking his cold hands up the back of your shirt when nobody's around —

"vice — soshiro! what the —!" you yelp, squirming in vain to dodge the cold hands shoved up your shirt. shivers rack your body as his lightly freezing fingertips drag down your spine.

your boyfriend tilts his head and nudges you closer, so that your clenched fists rest on his chest. "aw, what's wrong, sweetheart? not a fan of temperature play?"

"you — jerk!" you gasp, laughing a little as you shiver for a different reason. he splays his hand firm against your back and rests the other at your hip, grinning when you lean further into him. the room is currently empty, but neither of you can guarantee it for long, so when you tilt your chin up for a kiss it's with the full intention that it'll be brief.

soshiro has other plans — the moment your lips touch, he deepens it, nipping at your bottom lip and diving in, swallowing down your startled moan with a satisfied groan of his own. your entire body feels hot, his hands beneath your shirt suddenly burning as he tugs you impossibly closer, slotting his strong thigh between your legs and chuckling into the kiss when you whimper. "s-soshiro —"

"so ya do like temperature play?" he murmurs, kissing you again before you can gather your scattered thoughts. his hands slide to your ass and he grinds you against him, laughing when you break the kiss to smack his chest.

"soshiro, we'll get caught!" you hiss. your boyfriend can't keep the grin off his face, nudging his nose against yours as you take in the hot pink flush on his cheeks. "i'm getting you hand warmers for your birthday."

"aw, but you're the best hand warmer around," he says. "don'tcha think this is better?"

"this is going to get us in trouble," you point out.

"you're right," he sighs, dropping his thigh and pulling you in for a proper hug with his arms snug around your waist. his cheek is hot where he leans into you. "but you'll let me warm my poor freezin' hands on you later?"

"keep your poor frozen hands away from me." you make no move to pull away from his hug, melting into his steady embrace.

"that's not what you were sayin' last night."

"you're getting mittens for christmas."

[hurlumerlu]

My belly and my knees, my hands rosy from love

a short THK fic (this one comes with a warning for general beach vacation torture session unpleasantness) (AO3)

They stumbled through the garden, Bison walking backward with his hands down Kant’s shorts, Kant hoisting him up over obstacles, letting out reproachful little moans anytime their bodies detached. They couldn’t stop kissing.

It shouldn’t have been such a giddy, joyful affair – not after everything, not while it was so fresh – and yet. Bison felt drunk, overcome by an all-powerful, all-encompassing relief, and didn’t want to think beyond Kant’s mouth on his, its ravenous warmth, how it gasped when Bison tightened his hold on Kant’s ass.

They could think later.

Bison’s back hit the door, and he had half a mind to stay there, turn them over, but he wanted Kant on a bed. He liberated one of his hands to turn the doorknob, pushed the door panel with his heel, and crossed the threshold. Kant froze.

Fight-or-flight at the ready, Bison twisted to follow his gaze – no one was there. Kant was looking at a perfectly empty spot a few feet away from the entrance, and Bison, brutally sober, knew why.

"Who told you you could come inside?"

Kant stops and closes his eyes, same way Fadel does when praying for patience, as if Bison’s the cause of his misery, as if he didn’t make his fucking bed. "Sorry. I just need –"

"You thought I would allow you into my parents’ house?" And let him flinch, let him, from Bison’s words or his rising tone, doesn’t matter as long as Kant flinches. When Bison prowls toward him, he doesn’t move, only stands there with an air of sadness and pity, and Bison should have put a bullet in his skull. "If you’re going to sully their home with your presence, you will do so on your hands and knees. Crawling."

Kant shuts his eyes again, jaw working madly. Aw. How cute. He’s trying not to cry. He opens them back, though, as he goes to his knees. They don’t leave Bison’s face for the whole descent. They don’t leave Bison’s face after.

"Like this?"

"I assume it’s the best you can do anyway." Come on, flinch. Flinch. Flinch, dammit. Bison walks back to the kitchen, throwing "Bathroom’s upstairs. You can stand up in there, I guess, if you must." over his shoulders, and listens to Kant’s pathetic journey over the tiles. He tries to find it vindicating, and fails.

Tries not to find it arousing, and –

"We can sleep outside."

A silly, feeble attempt at making it all better. Kant rightfully huffed out a laugh.

"I really need that shower," he said sheepishly, as if he hadn’t washed in days through his own carelessness and not – not –

"Of course I want you in my parents’ home, Kant. I wasn’t –" wasn’t what? He’d meant every word. "Kant. Please believe me."

"I do. I’m glad. I just… Sorry, I didn’t mean to cry again."

"You can cry. You’re allowed to cry." Bison lightly tugged at Kant’s hands. He didn’t follow. "Would it help if you closed your eyes? I could guide you."

"I –" A long exhale. Kant’s thumb was rubbing Bison’s knuckles in soothing little motions. Perhaps they were self-soothing too. "I think I need you to tell me again."

"I want you in my parent’s home." It was so easy to say, and like shrugging off a weight.

Another huffed laughter. "Thank you. Thank you, Bison. But that’s not what I meant."

"I don’t –"

"I can’t just walk in." Kant bent down slightly, and Bison obeyed the plea, stepping forward so their forehead could brush. "Bison. I don’t think I can walk in."

Understanding, fear and denial, Bison had found, were very close cousins. He wasn’t sure which one was currently constricting his throat.

"We can sleep outside." He repeated. "I could bring out a bucket, I know it’s not ideal but you could wash like that, and in the morning I’d pack some stuff, we could leave, we don’t have to stay. We don’t have to come here ever again."

Kant’s broad palm slotted against Bison’s jaw, gently familiar. "Are you that afraid?"

"That’s not –" but it was. He wanted it too much."Kant. What if it makes things worse?"

"Can we try?"

With a nod, Bison stepped back. He didn’t want to lose the thumb stroking his knuckles, or the touch on his face. He told himself it was only temporary.

He walked across the old tiles, each one a memory. He had read so much, and fantasized even more – he’d even tried a few things with a hook-up or two, mostly symbolic gestures that wouldn’t spook a stranger but had helped him get there. Nothing had prepared him for this. The theories hadn’t been written for them. The guidelines just said don’t.

There were no guidelines.

There was only Bison’s heartbeat, and Kant at the threshhold, and the sound of crashing waves.

Bison kneeled, hand outstretched.

"Crawl to me, love," he ordered.

[irregularcollapse]

for the kiss drabble ask, 38 for clegan!! (38's is this: …because they’re running out of time. it feels beautifully angsty)

i'm going to cheat!! because! i wrote this for a christmas fic that i may or may not finish on time. but it fits the prompt! and maybe has some of the requested angst. i've been mulling this prompt over and over since you sent it, and i think the concept wormed its way into my planning for this fic. and hopefully if i make it known that i'm writing this, i can guilt myself into finishing it on time! perhaps!

requisite context is that Bucky is about to get on a plane (to LONDON!!!) and go away for a year (or will he?). he is around 23 years old, and Gale is around 20.

this is currently not proofread or edited! still very much in the working stages! but a little preview of something Christmassy.

38. ...because they're running out of time.

“It was your idea, Buck. You told me to go.”

“For a month or two, not—It’s a whole year, John. And maybe it don’t seem like long right now, but you’re gonna—”

“Forget you? Come on. Babydoll,” he croons, maybe a little hammed, and it turns out Bucky is the one looping arms around Gale’s neck and tugging him in, kiss landing on his cheekbone. “How could I?” When Gale breathes out, it huffs and shakes, warmth stuttering over Bucky’s neck. His arms come up, wrap around Bucky’s middle, vying for closer contact against the barrier of his backpack. Some jostling, and he shoves it out of the way, arms locking in a solid brace.

“I know you—you ain’t the pen-pal type. And you’re gonna meet people.”

“Buck, baby, don’t think like that, alright? It’s only a year.” When Gale doesn’t reply, only drops his forehead to Bucky’s shoulder—another way of not looking Bucky in the eye—he finds himself gritting a sigh. “You should come with me.” The shake of Gale’s head is almost immediate, and he doesn’t straighten.

“You know I can’t do that.”

“Fuck, Gale. I don’t know, then. I—” He sucks his teeth, shifting until he can drive Gale backward by the shoulders before tripping fingertips over his hardened jaw. There aren’t tears in his eyes. There’s not much of anything at all, just that crystal emptiness. Bucky’s palm slots against his jaw the way it always has; neat, easy, object and receptacle. He tucks some of Gale’s hair behind his ear without thinking about it, just something his fingers know how to do. “If I’m going to bet on anything, I’m going to bet on us, Buck.”

Gale’s eyes are huge, and hollowed, shadowy with what could be the lack of sleep: they’d stayed up all night after the bon voyage get-together, talking, and fooling around, and then he’d spent most of the morning checking everything in Bucky’s suitcase. His silences stretched as the day went on, until the drive to the airport had him only humming as punctuation to anything Bucky said as he drove. The rose-gold of his complexion looks grayish and murky under the halogen lighting. Even his lips are pale, held tight but seeming to sag.

“Don’t say that. You don’t know.”

“And you don’t, either.” Maybe Bucky is trying, a little bit, to push a smile onto Gale’s face with the way his thumb rubs at the corner of that drooping mouth. Still a sweet thing, pouting and pretty, but it’s miles from the devoted sadness that Bucky fantasized about: Gale looks as though he could throw up. “You know something I do know?” The grip on Gale’s face is more of a guide now, keeping his head straight. Bucky can’t do anything about his gaze, which does drop and flicker even as his hands come up to wrap around Bucky’s wrists. “I know I love you a whole lot, and I’m not a quitter. Not when I worked so hard to get you, huh?” He tucks away another wisp of Gale’s hair, lingering a moment in trailing through the length of it to his shoulder with meditative fingers. He’d dreamed of this as well, in the months before making his move. There’s no giving it up, no possibility of it, not when Gale leans into his touch like that even while looking so drained of all his light.

Bucky swallows, and a jagged rock works its way from the back of his tongue through his chest and into his stomach.

“I’ll be back at Christmas, for a bit. I’ll come back, alright? It’ll be you an’ me, same as always. C’mere, baby.” He can feel the downturned slope of Gale’s lips against his own, and the wetly quivering breath that Gale draws in, but he does kiss back. He kisses back, and a TSA agent is shouting to remind everyone in the queue to remove their shoes, and a big bubbling family are all talking over each other, and there’s a final boarding call crackling across the PA system, and Bucky’s heart is throbbing and thumping in his ears, but when Gale murmurs something into his mouth, he thinks that it might be, “Don’t count on it.”

(from these kiss prompts!)

[sunshine-theseus]

Lego House | Aggie Beever-Jones x Reader

Words: 3.8k Summary: 2 years together basically means forever, no matter what happens. inspired by Ed Sheeran’s ‘Lego House’ Warnings: injury, you guys know I don’t stick to actual events so, slightly suggestive maybe? this is for me but also kinda for @perfectpersuasion because they seemed really excited about it

“Headphones?”

“Check.”

“Chargers?”

“Check.”

“Passport?”

“Double check.”

“Then why am I 100% sure it’s still in your top draw?” I dramatically reach across to my bag to prove that my passport is in fact packed safely in the secret pocket that I designated purely to the piece of identification.

But it’s empty, and I have to bashfully turn back to Aggie to admit it isn’t where it’s supposed to be. She only gives me a pointed look and I’m standing up and dragging my feet behind me to grab the passport from my bedside table draw.

“I swear I put it in there Ags. Last night after training.”

“Well it’s a good thing we’re doing the checklist. It happens every time, you forget something.” Once I slide the small book into my bag I drop back down onto our couch, leaning into my girlfriend. She wraps her arms around me, and I bury my head in her neck, feeling the regretful late-night yesterday setting in.

“Come on we’ve got to be boarding the bus in an hour and who knows how long it’ll take us to get there.”

~~~~~

Naturally Aggie and I sit next to each other on the bus and/or the plane when the team travels for matches. We usually take a spot toward the back, or wherever is least populated or energetic, so that we can just be there together. Our hands are almost always interlocked and I’m usually leaning on her shoulder as we talk about our play or whatever interesting things going on.

“I’m nervous.” I whisper in her ear as we begin the decent into Gothenburg.

“Everyone underestimates us because we’re young, so when you get on that pitch, either starting or as a sub, you show them you belong at Chelsea, and that we belong in the Champions League. Okay?” When she looks at me to confirm my answer I lean forward, pressing a small kiss to her lips.

A flash goes off in the corner of my eye and I turn to find Zecira holding the media crew camera.

“The fans are going to love that.” Smiling a toothy grin, she turns to someone else, leaving us be.

-

The dark December sky encourages the cold and the light dusting of snow that begins to cover the tarmac. I wrap an arm around Aggie’s as we wheel our bags into the airport, trying not to fall face first on the slippery surface.

The warmth inside is welcomed as we are guided past the large crowds and onto the bus. Once again, I take my spot beside Aggie, behind Jessie and Niamh who were talking about Jessie’s new favourite tea. A calmness settles over everyone as Emma announces who’s rooming with who, which we all basically already know. 9 times out of 10 it’s the person currently sitting next to us.

Opening the door to our room brings great relief as I flop onto the bed closest to the window. Despite the two queen sized beds on either side of the room, it was inevitable that I’d end up curled up in my girlfriend’s arms as we huddle under the blankets, the other bed left untouched. This also usually meant that our room was the one to come to for activities, an extra bed meaning more space.

Aggie stands staring out the window, the city spanning across the horizon as the sun begins the set, the blue barely beginning to fade into purples and pinks. Old buildings and the river that runs through the architecture draw her eye as I stand behind her, taking in the way her body rises as she breathes, and the twitch in her lips as she spots something she finds beautiful, a certain spark in her eye. One that’s always there when she looks at me, hard to ignore.

“Did you bring your camera?” I ask as I slot in beside her. A hum in answer suffices as we take in the moment.

“We’re really here. Together.” I press kisses to her shoulder.

“Stamford Bridge is one thing but, we’re playing in the fucking Champions League. We’re not sat on the bench forever, we actually get minutes, not matter how little.”

“And we’re going to fucking win tomorrow’s match. Consider it an extra anniversary present.” Aggie chuckles and I feel the butterflies that burst to life in my stomach every time I look at her.

My mind drifts to the real present that sits carefully in a compartment of my bag for our anniversary tomorrow. My mum insisted it was perfect for Aggie and despite my hesitancy, I had to agree.

“We should head down for dinner.” Aggie leans down to kiss me before we leave.

~~~~~

Emma gave us a few hours to explore the city in the morning before we had to begin training and warming up for tonight's match. Jessie, Niamh and Zecira join us in the foyer, and we start our journey through the Swedish city, Zecira eager to introduce us to her country's traditions.

Not long into the walk, we stumble upon a small café on a terrace. We slide into a table and order our respective drinks, Aggie additionally getting a kardemummabröd, cardamom bread, for us to share. Niamh refuses to be apart of the picture that I take of the group at the table, but I manage to convince her to smile for the camera as we head back down onto the street.

The group splits into 2 after that. Aggie and I leave to seek out some flowers and a quiet spot to spend time together for our anniversary, while the others head back to the hotel, desperate to stay warm, although Jessie doesn’t seem to mind the cold winds.

“Look! They have red carnations!” Aggie is the one to point out the flower stand, full of red and green, that holds bunches of my favourite flower.

When the shop owner sees our linked hands, she smiles, the corner of her eyes wrinkling as they light up.

“For free.” She pushes Aggie’s hand away as she tries to pay for the red carnations.

“Love is enough payment.” I slip some money onto the bench as we leave, heading to an empty but rather beautiful park across the road.

“Happy anniversary.” I press a kiss to her cheek as I hand her the small bag. Inquisitively, she opens it and the box that sits on the bottom, revealing the gift.

“It’s a family ring. Handed down through a bunch of generations. The oldest kid gets it to give to their partner, the one they and the family think is the one. The person they’ll spend the rest of their life with, who makes them the best them.” I explain the origins as I take the ring from the box and slip it onto her hand. The gold band holds a small, encrusted peridot gem and fits perfectly on Aggie’s hand.

“Thank you. I love it.” Her voice is soft and watery, and her cheeks flame red when she looks at me. I can only imagine the love that adorns my face as I look at her. I’m about to kiss her when she has a moment of realisation.

“I left your gift in the fucking room.” The sweet moment is broken as she throws her head back and groans, and I can’t help but let out a hearty laugh.

“It’s okay.” I place a hand on top of the one she has on my thigh.

“Nooo we won’t have time when we get back, you’ll have to wait until tonight and that’s unfair.”

“I don’t even expect gifts Ags, just you and me. Plus, you got me my flowers. My favourite flowers from my favourite person. Sounds pretty good to me.”

“I’m your favourite person yeah?”

“Mmhm.” Her finger links through the thin gold chain that hangs around my neck.

“Show me then.” Her voice is raspy and deep as she pulls me forward by the necklace until our lips meet. It’s a hot and heavy kiss considering where we are, but I reciprocate it none-the-less.

I go to pull away, but she pulls me back in and I end up on her lap as we make out on the park bench. Her hands grip my thighs and mine hold the back of her head… Until we remember we’re on a park bench.

“That was kinda hot. Definitely a good make up present.” I smile down at her as our foreheads rest against each other.

“Emma’s going to kill us if we don’t head back soon…” Aggie is adamant that we begin walking to the hotel so we’re not late, so we walk hand in hand through the cold, barely arriving in time.

-

Training and warm up went well. The schedule was easy to adapt to and we weren’t pushing excessively as to waste energy before the match.

In saying that, we were up 2-1 when I got subbed on in the 60th minute, replacing Lj who wasn’t feeling all too well at half time. I felt good and energised, ready to make my second UWCL appearance.

Sam and I were gelling well together as we often did, making passes and taking shots on goal, only to be blocked by the Hacken keeper. It was a hard game but we were winning.

Aggie gets subbed on in the 68th minute, along with Jessie. The ball rarely makes it back past us, Erin often making a run with the ball toward us. Eventually Aggie passes me the ball and I try to gage my surroundings. Sam is offside, passing back to Aggie would be a mistake, Jessie’s surrounded. Erin has a clear path and shot of the goal.

I begin to run, and right as the ball connects with my foot, flying toward Erin, a body knocks against mine and my knee buckles. Nothing feels real as I fall to the floor, a loud pop filling my ears as pain radiates through my knee. I let out a blood curdling scream, but it isn’t heard over the cheering of Chelsea fans as Erin hits the ball into the goal.

I toss around on the grass, holding my leg and slamming a hand repeatedly against the ground as I sob and wale, waiting for someone to notice. It’s Sophie who places a hand on my back and yells for the ref, who then yells for the medics.

Aggie drops down in front of me as we wait, and I try and reach for her hand. The task finds itself to be difficult as my own hand shakes and my vision is blurred by tears.

“It’s- it’s my ACL.” A loud sob slips from my lips despite my attempt to hold it back.

“You don’t kn-”

“I know it Ags. I know it is I swear.”

“Okay, okay. It’ll be okay. The medics are here to look at it okay?” I nod as their hands grasp my leg, asking whether certain movements hurt or not.

It’s when I see them wave for the orange stretcher that things feel real again. Like everything was happening in slow motion until that moment. And I begin to cry again, my head now resting in Aggie’s lap as she runs a hand through my hair.

Every movement hurts as they transfer me from the ground to the stretcher, and I try not to scream out. A couple of the girls walk alongside me until the sideline, where Aggie grabs my hand and kisses me.

“I’ll come see you as soon as I can, okay?” I nod and watch as she runs back onto the pitch, her head turning every few steps to look at me, worry set in her eyes.

Turns out ‘as soon as I can’ would be much later. The medics had decided that instead of waiting until tomorrow or until we were back in England for a scan, it’d be best to go straight to the hospital. So we did.

Despite the usual wait to receive scan results, I’m sent back to the hall to wait for them. While waiting for the radiographer to call my name, Emma messages me asking if I wanted the team there. I decline the offer, knowing the girls would be exhausted after the last game of 2023 and would just want to sleep.

That doesn’t stop Aggie showing up.

I can hear the pounding of shoes hitting the linoleum ground, someone clearly running, but I don’t give it much thought as I scroll mindless on my phone. When she crouches in front of me, hands on my thigh to keep herself balanced, I have to try not to show how relieved I am. I knew what the results would be but hearing it makes it all the more real and I needed my girlfriend to hold my hand.

“Did we win?” a soft chuckle fills the air, and she nods as I put my phone in my pocket.

“3-1, because of your pass to Erin.”

“Oh, that’s good.” I’m aware of the glum look on my face as Aggie sits on the ground in front of me, allowing me to braid her hair repeatedly as we talk, waiting for the results.

“Ms L/n?” Aggie is quick to stand and turn to face the doctor while I struggle with the crutches.

“We know you already know what’s wrong but, to confirm, you’ve ruptured your anterior cruciate ligament in your right knee. You’ll be referred to a doctor and surgeon in England so you can arrange the surgery as soon as possible once you get home. I’m terribly sorry.” she leaves us with a woeful smile and the only thing I have to stop me from spiralling is Aggie’s hand on my shoulder.

“You’ll get through this. We will get through this. I’ll be there every step of the way. So will the girls. And if you fall down, I’ll pick you back up.” She kisses me on the forehead, and we begin the walk out to the parking lot, waiting for someone to pick us up.

-

Most people are asleep or relaxing in their rooms or the meal room by the time we get back to the hotel. Emma gives me a hug but doesn’t encourage us to stay or talk to anyone, knowing I’ll want to be alone with Aggie for a while.

“Getting on the plane tomorrow is going to be a challenge.” I try to laugh off the thought of all the normal activities that won’t be easy anymore as I shift onto my side of the bed.

“I’ll carry you, bridal style.” With that, Aggie hands me a gift, the gift she forgot on our date earlier in the day.

The box is rather heavy, and when I take off the lid, I find a photo album. It’s hard not to smile at the photo of us kissing that’s stuck to the cover.

“A page for every day we’ve spent together. For every day I’ve loved you.” I flick through the pages, reading some of the notes around the photos.

“This is why you take a photo of us every day?”

“I also just love capturing your beauty.” I pull her close to me and kiss her.

“I love you so much.”

“Not as much as I love you.”

~~~~~

I ended up having my surgery on Christmas day. Aggie and my family had planned on having a big day together, opening presents and having a feed, and I felt guilty taking the joy away. There wasn’t really any other choice. Aggie held me the night before as I cried. Our bed felt like the only safe place, even in our apartment, so that’s usually where I stayed. The increase in rain felt very fitting for how I’d been feeling.

Once everyone started coming back from the Christmas break, our place became more lively. I still used a singular crutch just in case, but for the most part I could put solid weight on my leg again, which meant I was able to do more activities with the team. We would hold game nights and/or movie nights once a week and occasionally I’d cook a Sunday roast.

Eventually Aggie began to take me to training. I wasn’t able to do anything, but I enjoyed watching the girls and just being in the environment again. It also made me happy watching Aggie play, it was when she looked the most carefree, despite others claiming that was when she was with me.

Aggie hadn’t left my side. Helping me shower and do the exercises for my knee. She always made sure I was entertained and asked if I needed help. Most of our spare time together was spent with me wrapped in her arms, watching a shitty tv show or talking.

“What did the doc say?”

“The ligament is looking good. They still think I’m on track for getting back in the gym in May, test out that anti-gravity treadmill.”

“And you got the team physio check up tomorrow yeah?” I hum as I adjust myself in her arms, head slotting into the crook of her neck.

I was having weekly check-ups with the Chelsea medical team and my own physio, which made it rather nerve wracking, wondering if one would feel the same as the other. If we weren’t all on the same page, my recovery time could be pushed further back. The team physio check up was the last one to confirm that I’d be allowed to start training and building stamina back up next month.

-

When I arrived at Cobham in the training kit, I felt really good. Some of the girls who pulled up at the same time as us were screaming across the car park and wishing me luck in my first session back.

I knew I’d be stuck in the gym for at least 2 months before I was allowed back on the pitch. Even then it’d be another couple of months before I was properly training with the team again, but this was the first step, and nothing could take that joy from me.

The girls started their mornings off in the gym, which meant they were cheering me on and helping me as the trainers gave me exercises to do. Aggie spends most of the hour doing the exercises alongside me, only leaving to complete something mandatory or to get us more water.

“You don’t have to Ags. You should focus on your training.”

“I promised I’d be here every step of the way. I’ll do it all for you.” She locks the leg extension and gives me a hand to help me up.

“Now onto the anti-gravity machine. First time huh?” she gently bumps me with her shoulder as I get ready to step into the chamber before Lily, my designated trainer, enables the ‘anti-gravity.’

“Oh this feels weird.” The way my body lifts with every step eases the pressure on my knee as I start to get used to it.

“Look at you! This is so cool.” Aggie doesn’t stop smiling as she watches me, some of the other girls occasionally making their way over to watch.

-

As predicted, 2 months later I begin training on the pitch. It felt lonely, watching the girls and being so close to joining them, yet so far. But I knew I was nearly there. Lily helped me with building up speed and getting used to the feel of the boots and grass again. Then came shooting practice; standing, getting passed a ball, and shooting. Eventually we added the training mannequins and Lily played goalkeeper as I manoeuvre around the pitch and obstacles.

Aggie likes to join us at lunch or sometimes gets excused by Emma to help me.

“Aggiiiie. I’m supposed to have the ball you’re supposed to just block me.”

“You gotta fight for the ball or take it off someone at some point.” Her cheeks are that beautiful pink as she grins at me.

“I hate you.” I puff out as I try to catch my breath.

“I’m wounded.” A hand falls to her heart before she approaches me, the ball still at her feet, and she leans in for a kiss.

“Nuh uh you’re being mean.”

“No I am not! Please one kiss.”

“Fine.” As she closes her eyes again and leans in, I swipe the ball from underneath her and start to run to the goal.

“What the fuck!?”

“Get better babe!” I take a shot around Lily, although not very hard considering her lack of goalkeeper training, and watch as it slots into the back of the net.

-

“73 minutes in and number 10 Lauren James is being subbed off! Who for? It’s Y/n L/n making her first appearance of the 24/25 season after rupturing her ACL in the Champion’s League in December last year. Her first game in 326 days at a sold-out Stamford Bridge! And who else is there to walk with her onto the pitch, if not her girlfriend and one of Chelsea’s star strikers, Aggie Beever Jones. Today is a great day for it.”

I try not to cry as Aggie takes my hand, making my way to my position. The cheer from the crowd as I jog on is deafening and I clap back at them before the ref blows the whistle.

Not long into play, Aggie makes a run forward, and I find a clear space between players near the goal and call for the ball. She kicks it and it soars through the air, making contact with my head as I jump. The net ripples as it skims passed the Arsenal keeper, and I’m making a run for Aggie to celebrate.

“First game back and you scored! Let’s fucking go!” she grabs me by my face and pulls me in. The kiss is unexpected but welcome in celebration.

We win 4-0, and Aggie and I find ourselves tangled up in our sheets, tracing patterns on each other’s bare skin as we whisper messages of love and adoration for the other.

“I’d do anything for you.”

“You did everything for me.”

Y/N_L/N

Y/N_L/N: this is a thank you letter to the one who’s stood by me for 3 years. who’s loved and cared for me when I didn’t think anyone would. a year ago today I ruptured my ACL, on our anniversary, and in the year since then we’ve only grown stronger, loved each other harder, fallen deeper. i'd do it all for you, like you did for me

---------

Beth and Viv’s new doco on their ACL journey really helped me with writing this. Obviously not everyone’s journey is the same so I tried to make it as different as I could with ruining it all together. I hope they’re proud of the doc because it’s really going to help people, and hopefully encourage more funding in researching the ACL injuries in women’s football and help with creating boots designed for women, so it lowers the risk of injuries like ACLs.

[peppermakesart]

Tonight I drew my most recent addition and the current ace of my team, plastic Galagor. I stacked HP buffs with magic tome that calculates off HP. I also got a sonicboom sticker with +1 slot and crit chance based off empty sticker slots I got up to 100%, and I set it to critical mass so it creates a feedback loop where you keep attacking with it over and over. Unfortunately it became an issue because for the fights you can’t knock out trainers in between monsters, you’ll just get stuck attacking them until the luck balances out enough to stop

[theresattrpgforthat]

hi! my sister wants to be able to play with me and my brother, but she has trouble reading and writing, do you have any ttrpgs that dont require a lot of reading or writing?? (like, character sheets dont take ages or whtvr)

THEME: Little Reading or Writing Required.

Hello friend, so for folks who aren’t great with reading or writing, I think the best approach is to use systems that provide you with small amounts of information that you can keep in your head, or games that provide you with a lot of visual cues. I’m going to include some systems that seem pretty rules-lite (because they allow you to create a character pretty easily) but I’m also looking for games that give you visual or tactile aids to help you remember what’s going on in the story or with your character.

The Best Job on Earth, by Hilander.

Welcome New Employee! Please fill out your personal info!  Note that supevisors are not beholden to know your name, and may refer to you by the 4-digit hiring code helpfully displayed on the front and rear of your uniform!

Players will take on the role of unpaid interns working for SolTech Industries, a perfectly ethical research consortium funding a Better Tomorrow! Of course, when these experiments get out of hand, our fine interns are deployed to clean up.

The Best Job on Earth is not a very long read for the GM, and probably an even shorter read for players. Your character sheet can fit on 1/3 of a piece of paper, with three stats and a little bit of space for the items you get from a d20 roll table. This game isn’t necessarily a one-shot: your interns can spent earned XP in order to get a promotion, which involves increasing personal scores and getting an extra Luck point, which basically is a resource you can use for a free re-roll. This game is great for fans of horror, paranormal science, and the crushing weight of unpaid internships.

Mausritter, by Losing Games.

Take up the sword and don the whiskers of a brave mouse adventurer in Mausritter, a rules-light fantasy adventure roleplaying game. Mausritter is built on the chassis of Into the Odd, with new rules for setting, character generation, magical artifacts, and mouse-scale adventures.

Mausritter has very concise character sheets, with only 3 stats to keep track of and a card-based inventory system. If you buy the physical version, or if you decide to do some printing, you can use these cards to put in/on your inventory slots, as visual reminders of what you are currently carrying and how much room you have left. The book is 25 pages, but character creation is one, maybe 2 at the most - and most of your creation process just involves rolling on tables! Make your mouse in minutes and you’re ready to play.

Flyover Country, by Headstone Hills.

Fields of wheat and corn ripple in the wind, hungry eyes peering out between the stalks. Billboards along the road advertise strange and dangerous attractions. Smiles are too wide, manners too polite, secrets buried too deep. The neon light of a diner glows in the distance, but you may never reach its doors. An empty highway stretches out to the horizon before wrapping back in on and around itself, twisted on into the forever horizon. This is Flyover Country.

Flyover Country uses a tarot deck as a resource and oracle as you play the game. Character creation is simple and quick - although I recommend the GM do a bit of reading and prep beforehand. Each character gains a score (or pool) of points for three aspects: Body, Mind and Wyrd. Every time they use their ability, they draw a number of tarot cards equal to their score. The player can then choose which card they want to use to represent their outcome. Characters that are injured will reduce the score of a relevant trait by 1.

One way to make this game a bit simpler is giving each of the players a card with their character’s Ghost and Haunting already written on it. This is a combination of your character’s dark secret and the strange ability that will manifest inside them once they make that secret known. When I played this with my characters, we used poker chips as tokens to represent our ability Scores, and players would hand in tokens whenever they had to reduce their scores. I think the tarot cards make for an exciting mechanic, although the game’s success certainly depends on how well the game master can interpret the outcomes of cards being drawn.

This House Will Outlive Us, by pludmale.

Residents change, but the house remains. Everyone is changed by the house, and the house, in turn, is changed by its visitors.

In this game players take turns building the story of a house. The narrative is guided by flipping a coin onto different areas of the game board. The game is played in 3 stages: determining the type of house, picking out character roles and playing out the history and future of the house itself.

This House Will Outlive Us uses a map of the house, a number of cards with prompts, and a coin that you flip in order to tell its story. Each card has to be read to figure out what happens next, but the amount of information you’re expected to retain and communicate is very small, and because the game is so collaborative, you could potentially have one person do the bulk of the reading while the table shares the role of providing answers to the prompts.

This is a game that also doesn’t really require anyone to write anything down, as it’s meant to be played in a single session, and the changes from era to era should be pretty easy to remember - although you could also assign someone to be a note-taker if you like.

Horse Girl Infinity, by Jordanfish.

The majesty of someone's passionate vague horse fantasy. Inspired and empowered by the grace and might granted from the union of girl and horse, hero and pony, pilot and mecha.

The combination perfect for horse-lovers and mech aficionados, Horse Girl Infinity is high-action but relatively simple to play. You are presented with a grid of strengths, three of which your horse is specifically good at. The amount of dice you roll is dependant on how close the skill you are using is close to one of your strengths. Some especially difficult challenges may require a group roll, where everyone has to roll their dice and contribute Victory Points dependant on your success.

Your characters’ advancement is built around their goals, which takes a mechanical effect. Your Dream is something about yourself that you want; when you act in accordance with it, you gain Determination or XP. Determination can be spent to give you an extra dice on a roll, while XP can be spent on a separate grid that gives you a new narrative advantage. I think the spatial organization of information may make it easier to find and keep track of, and you can use tokens like poker chips or coins to help you keep track of your Determination and your XP.

If you want a slightly different genre, you can also check out Demon Blade Ultimate, which is more aligned with Shonen-style anime.

Crescent Moon, by Ema Acosta.

Go on a strange journey into the patchwork world of the daydream in Crescent Moon ☾, a feelings-delving role-playing game of brave children and bold adventures.

Rules for crafting your own whimsical tale full of breathtaking landscapes and unlikely friends await inside. Delve in to uncover stories of daring deeds and fantastical creatures—of calm afternoon naps and of promises whispered under starlight.

I don’t own Crescent Moon, so I can’t say for certain that this is super non-reader friendly, but I’m willing to go out on a limb and say it is, because the character sheets remind me very much of Mausritter character sheets.

The most obvious connection is the hand-drawn inventory: you draw the objects you carry, as well as items and conditions that may affect you. Because you use cards to represent what your character is currently carrying, I think this element has the potential to reduce the amount of reading and writing the player has to do. The GM on the other hand, likely has a little more work to do in terms of planning an adventure - although I don’t think the work a GM does in this game is as much as say, a D&D DM.

[burnthoneydrops]

Moonlit Confessions

Synopsis: What was once thought to be a fizzled out attempt at marriage might have a second chance

Warnings: implied fem!reader (use of miss and dance cards for regency style traditions)

Word Count: 1523

a/n: here's the part two of this request !! i didn't think it would take this long but i got a random burst of inspiration last night and finished it up today so here it is! i'm learning i really don't know how to do short slow burn but oh well haha. i hope you lot enjoy!!

This night seemed to be repeating itself. Couples twirl themselves like planets orbiting the sun as the small band plays from their spot in the corner. You stand off to the side, huffing as you glance at your empty dance card, your eyes in a narrow glare as you try to find the reason for its current state. Anthony Bridgerton seemed bound and determined to keep the slots on your dance card name free and had yet to name a reason why. Having resigned yourself to moving past your offer of marriage with no meaningful result, you thought throwing yourself into that which your mother had always wanted would help speed up the healing process. Somewhere along this new stage of your martial quest, Anthony had decided that he did not like any of your new prospects at all and made it his mission to see that each and every one of them failed. 

“Miss Y/N, would by chance-” a gentleman had approached you but was stopped in his tracks, glancing quickly at something behind you before it looked like the fear of god had been instilled in him and backing away slowly. 

You quickly turn around, only to come face to face with Anthony, and the dots begin to connect. This was the third gentleman this evening, and who knows how many that brought the grand total for the week up to? Your mother probably did, you wouldn’t doubt that she was counting off to the side. Your blood begins to boil. In the past few weeks since you had proposed a marriage of convenience to the eldest Bridgerton, your season had been absolute hell and he seemed to only be more interested in your life when you tried not to involve him. 

“What is the matter with you?” You scold, moving closer to him to try and keep the conversation between the two of you. 

“The lemonade tastes a little funny tonight-”

“That is not what I meant and you know it”.

“Lord Garrison is not to be interacted with. He is not worthy of anyone’s time, much less yours”. 

You are slightly moved by his words, though your anger blinds you to much else other than the issue at hand. “Is that for the same reason as Lord Andreas then? Or perhaps Lord Henderson? Or maybe even Lord Clark? But heaven forbid I ever know that reason as you seem so hellbent on never enlightening me!” You seethe, gritting your teeth in an effort to keep your volume down. 

“I am simply keeping your best interests in mind,” Lord Bridgerton answers simply, as if it were obvious. 

“I never asked you to do that! I am not Daphne or Eloise! I am not one of your charges and therefore none of your concern and quite frankly,” you sigh, trying to steady your breathing before you get too riled up, “I thought you made your opinions quite clear at the Beauxton’s ball, so I intended to move on but you are making that quite impossible”. 

“We are still friends, Miss Y/N. Believe it or not, that makes me worry about you,” he replies, though there is something in his eyes, almost like he isn’t saying everything. 

“I never intended for you to worry about me! I am simply trying to lighten the burden that I am to my parents by finding a husband and cushioning our lives with a bit more funding, but when you constantly scare off all of the Lords possibly coming my way, you are ensuring my failure”. 

“You would that quickly give up your interests for the sake of the marriage mart?” 

You glare at him as if he has gone insane, which it frankly sounds like he has. 

“Lest you have forgotten, Lord Bridgerton, not every match is created out of love. Some are created out of necessity, which appears to be my only option”. 

“But what if it isn’t? What if there is someone out there who might secure you that love match and allow you to keep your books?” This seems entirely out of character for the man in front of you. 

“Oh the romantic expert now are we? Last I remember, you were rejecting a poor girl because she tripped over your left foot!” 

Anthony scans the room fervently, as if looking for someone before finding nothing. Instead, he mutters “christ” under his breath and grabs your hand, pulling you toward the open door to the balcony. 

“Lord Bridgerton, where are we-” you huff “where are we going?” He does not respond, choosing instead to drag you through the crowd of people, no doubt collecting pairs of eyes as you two pass. Once the two of you are outside, away from the curious ears of the ton, he faces you, his chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. 

“What has gotten into you Anthony?” You look between his eyes, hoping to catch whatever was the reasoning behind this out of character moment. The night air nips at your collar bones and you shiver slightly from the combination of the sudden cold and being locked under Anthony’s gaze. His silence scares you, and he keeps opening his mouth before shutting it a second later. It is quite unusual to catch the Viscount without words and this is surely the worst you’ve seen.  

“I have not been able to look at any man near you for weeks. Do you know how infuriating it is to see someone else chase after the person who has your heart?”

“Where is this coming from?” 

“You asked me what had gotten into me? You have. You have lodged yourself into my brain and into my heart and I cannot get you out of there to save my life. When you offered marriage I assumed it was a joke and realised too late that I was wrong”. 

“Anthony I-”

“You have consumed me, and I know that I made it clear that I would not marry for love, but watching you sacrifice yourself in such a way has been gnawing at me. Please, tell me you won’t do it”. He looks intently at you, begging both verbally and visually. 

“What are you saying?” 

“Tell me you won’t find another man for whom you would have to give up everything just to please your parents. You know damn well I have enough wealth and resources to remedy any worry and would never make you give up anything. If you do not wish to marry me-” “Marry you?” You try to interrupt, to no avail. 

“Then spare me the rejection and you can head back inside, but I know there is a part of you that feels the same. Allow me to make up for the time I’ve lost being an idiot and please,” he bends down onto one knee, “marry me”. 

“Are you quite finished?” 

He looks at you as if you’d grown a second head. It is clearly not the answer he was expecting, though you doubt any man would be expecting anything other than a “yes” to a question like that. You grab his hands, clasping them between your own and holding them between the two of you as he stands up. 

“If we are going to really do this, then I believe we shall do it properly. To prove you are serious about this, my favourite flowers are lilies and I shall be expecting you with a bouquet of them at my front door tomorrow”. 

“I should have known you were not going to make this easy,” Anthony smiles, though the anxiety of your possible rejection is still running through him. 

“You denied the easy way out, so you seem to have left me no choice,” you counter. 

“But is it a yes?” He raises a brow. 

“Eventually, but who are we to deny ourselves a longer honeymoon period? If you truly want to be wed, then we are to do absolutely everything”. Simply because you enjoyed your studies does not mean that you had never wished for romance. You had known that the majority of what the ton had to offer was men who would strip you of your most favourite hobbies for more motherly and homely activities, but now that you had an offer to keep the former on the table, you were going to relish it. 

“Tomorrow it is then,” his smile grows, squeezing your hands. 

“My mother will be so pleased,” you tease. 

“As will mine, though do not go thinking that I got down on one knee for the sake of our mamas”. 

“You mean to tell me you weren’t proposing to get to my mother? She will be positively offended,” you joke with a smile. 

“You are making me regret my decision,” Anthony teases back. 

“You would never,” you chuckle, pulling the two of you so his back is blocking the view of any passersby to try and keep the whispers at bay for a little longer. This moment is yours, and you intend to keep it that way before it inevitably reaches the ears of the curious partygoers.

[jj-exe]

Art Commissions Open!

Pixel art! 30$+ USD

Half body/Bust 30$+ USD

Full Body 60$+ USD

Want a more secure way to commission me? Try commissioning me via my eBay store:

(Animated gif art commissions are available for an additional cost.)

Payment is accepted via:

-Venmo

-Zelle

-Paypal

♡ !Message me for your art commission today! ♡

Slots For Current Comissions:

Slot 1: (Empty)

Slot 2: (Empty)

Slot 3: (Empty)

Slot 4: (Empty)

------

Additionally, I have opened an Ebay store to purchase art prints.

Black Light Cake - Kirby

[holmesillustrations]

What is the best Watson focused illustration?

Our winners so far have been pretty Holmes-centered, so lets put the spotlight on our humble narrator this time! 📔🩺

Currently: Starting soon!

I included all the ones with only Watson, or supporting characters but not Holmes, plus some that do have them both but focus on Watson or that just have really good Watsons. There's only so many slots in a bracket, so i tried to get all the best ones, but if i left out any favourites, let me know and i'll post them seperately just for fun!

(Full list of competitors under cut)

SIDE A

I stowed them all discreetly away in my overcoat. Bruce-Partington Plans, FD Steele

Sir Henry put his hand upon my shoulder. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

"See!" she cried, "The miscreant follows still! There is the very man of whom I speak." Lady Frances Carfax, FD Steele

We strolled about together. Resident Patient, Sidney Paget

Billy advanced and drew away the drapery which screened the window. Dr. Watson could not restrain a cry of amazement. There was a facsimile of his old friend, dressing gown and all. Mazarin Stone, Alfred Gilbert

Be ready in half an hour. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

Holmes! I whispered. Twisted Lip, Sidney Paget

I held up a warning finger. Reigate Squires. Sidney Paget

I could look straight through the uncurtained window. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

"What's this?" he cried, in a high, screaming voice. "What is the meaning of this intrusion?" Dying Detective, Walter Paget

It was a prostrate man face downwards upon the ground. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

What has happened to the Lady Frances? Is she alive or dead? There is our problem. Lady Frances Carfax, FD Steele

He tore up one of his wife's photographs in my presence. 'I never wish to see her damned face again!' he shrieked. Retired Colourman, FD Steele

"Mr. Holmes is an independent investigator," I said, "He is his own master." Valley of Fear, Frank Wiles

"If this is a joke, sir, it is a very questionable one," said the vicar angrily. Retired Colourman, Frank Wiles

The fellow gave a bellow of anger and sprang upon me like a tiger. Lady Frances Carfax, Alec Ball

Put it down! Down, this instant, Watson - this instant, I say. Dying Detective, Walter Paget

That is the Great Grimpen Mire. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

He unwound the handkerchief and held out his hand. Engineer's Thumb, Sidney Paget

The point is a simple one. Reigate Squires, Sidney Paget

He examined them minutely. Cardboard Box, Sidney Paget

Over the rocks was thrust out an evil yellow face. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

Sherlock Holmes was standing and smiling at me across my study table. Empty House, Sidney Paget

Really, sir, this is a very extraordinary question. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

He seized Holmes by the throat. Empty House, Sidney Paget

Exhibiting the butt of a large revolver, which projected from the inside pocket. Charles Augustus Milverton, Sidney Paget

The proposition took me completely by surprise. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

He deliberately knocked the whole thing over. Reigate Squires, Sidney Paget

Frankland clapped his eye to it and gave a cry of satisfaction. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

"Curse you, you double traitor!" cried the German, straining against his bonds and glaring murder from his furious eyes. His Last Bow, Alfred Gilbert

She went straight to her uncle. Beryl Coronet, Sidney Paget

I carefully examined the writing. Scandal in Bohemia, Sidney Paget

SIDE B

The shadow of Sherlock Holmes. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

"Go back!" she said. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

He broke the seal and glanced over the contents. Noble Bachelor, Sidney Paget

I knocked down several books which he was carrying. Empty House, Sidney Paget

I fell into a brown study. Cardboard Box, Sidney Paget

A curious collection. Musgrave Ritual, Sidney Paget

Holmes pulled out his watch. Greek Interpreter, Sidney Paget

Then he stood before the fire. Scandal in Bohemia, Sidney Paget

He did not rise, but sat upon a floor like some strange Buddha. Veiled Lodger, Frank Wiles

[Watson at Culvertons practice] Dying Detective, FD Steele

"Good-day, Dr Watson." he cried. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

See what my wife found in its crop! Blue Carbuncle, Sidney Paget

"It is glue, Watson," said he. Shoscombe Old Place, Frank Wiles

I saw the figure of a man upon the tor. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

In the light of the lantern i read, with a thrill of horror, 'the sign of the four'. Sign of Four, HM Kerr

I tried to interest myself in a yellow-backed novel. Boscombe Valley, Sidney Paget

From its craggy summit I looked out myself across the melancholy downs. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

What are you doing here, Barrymore? Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

"Phosphorous!" I said. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

[Frontispiece] Creeping Man, FD Steele

"Holmes," I cried, "You are too late." Five Orange Pips, Sidney Paget

[Watson and Mrs Maberley] Three Gables, FD Steele

Running up, I blew its brains out. Copper Beeches, Sidney Paget

You have indeed much to answer for. Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

You know that there is another man, then! Hound of the Baskervilles, Sidney Paget

It was quite a simple case after all. Crooked Man, Sidney Paget

A very seedy hard felt hat. Blue Carbuncle, Sidney Paget

He held it up. Yellow Face, Sidney Paget

Very fine — very fine indeed! Would it be indiscreet if I were to ask you how you obtained this? Illustrious Client, HK Elcock

Watson, would you be afraid to sleep in the same room with a lunatic? Valley of Fear, Arthur I. Keller

What do you make of that? Crooked Man, Sidney Paget

A small square of paper fluttered down. Final Problem, Sidney Paget

[dcdreamblog]

Are There Any Hero Forn Norway

i Aks This To do

1 I love Superheros And There History

2 The Fact That I Live In Norway But No Nothing About Norway (somehow) (I Know A Lot A The US But NOTHING ABUOT My Homeland)

and 3 i Wnat Do Know More About NON-US Heros (and Villans? Maybe?)

Sure.

While Norway wasn't a founding member of the Global Guardians (because its original members were all part of the UN's Non-Aligned Movement and Norway was obviously a founding member of NATO) it did join very swiftly after the group's membership expanded in the early 70s.

It has had two champions who have been called "nasjonale heltinner" which I'm told means something along the lines of "national heroines". A more famous one whose fame has spread outside her homeland and one who is still much more homegrown. I'll quickly touch on the more famous one first since she's apt to come up more often.

(Photograph of Ice released during her time with the Justice League International. Yes the seal clubbers are real. Yes this is the picture they went with. Yes the JLI did stuff like this a lot)

Tora Olafsdotter AKA Is AKA Ice.

Olafsdotter's early years are clouded in mystery but she has ties both to the Norwegian Romani population and a hidden group of Homo Magi known as the Ice People, the working theory that she is biracial between the two. She spent large parts of her early years in both Germany and New Zealand before returning to Norway after the nation's slot on the Global Guardians was temporarily emptied.

Her time on the Guardians was ultimately brief, during the period when the Guardians had their UN funding cut in favor of the Justice League International, Ice (the Icemaiden) and fellow Guardian Green Flame (later Fire) joined up with the JLI where most of her career took place.

She's the most internationally known heroine from Norway by far as a member of the JLI where she ultimately laid down her life against the Overmaster. Though she has since returned to life and active duty.

Norway's home grown heroine however, one whose work is much more focused to WITHIN Norway itself.

(Glacier's official portrait, the original copy currently hangs at the Global Guardian's Dome headquarters in Paris, France)

Sigrid Nansen, formerly Isjomfru/Icemaiden, now Isbreen/Glacier

Nansen received their powers from an experiment at the behest of the Norwegian government, wanting to artificially duplicate the powers of the "Ice People" Homo Magi tribe that Olafsdotter came from.

Nansen's mother was a rather famous scientist who "volunteered" her child for the procedure. While at the time it was assumed Nansen herself was enthusiastic, it was later revealed that Nansen's mother was abusive, both towards her child's lack of scientific interest and lack of "popularity" with male suitors.

The procedure was a success, duplicating the Ice People's cryokinetic abilities, at the cost of dyeing Nansen's skin permanently blue. They were placed on the roster of the Global Guardians, becoming the group's first Norwegian member. They were placed in a rather infamous shear and revealing costume that only further exacerbated Nansen's body dysphoria. Memories from their teammates at the time recall them as depressed and withdrawn.

When Tora Olafsdotter was unveiled, Icemaiden resigned from the Global Guardians and took a several year long sabbatical. They didn't reemerge until after Ice was killed in the line of duty with the JLI. Reappearing and offering themself as replacement, Nansen revealed to the world that they were bisexual, the first openly queer member of the Global Guardians.

The Church of Norway publically condemned Nansen, JLI teammate Guy Gardener famously sent an official reply to the Church consisting of floating outside of the Church's headquarters for 6 hours beaming a large energy construct of a middle finger into all the windows.

They were rotated off active JLI duty after sustaining heavy injury in a battle against the alien Hyperclan, they remained active on and off for a couple years afterwards before being kidnapped by the Ultra-Humanite. The nature of the invasive procedures conducted during that time are not known but one can compare before and after pictures for themselves.

Nansen fell off the map for several years after that, eventually reappearing under the thrall of a villain named Minister Blizzard who was harnessing Nansen's powers for his own designs, Nansen having fallen into a spiral of self loathing about their powers and underlying body issues.

When they were finally freed from that situation, Nansen made two announcements. That they were now going by Glacier, rather than Ice Maiden And that they used they/them pronouns.

Since then, Glacier has returned to active duty on the Global Guardians, where they serve with distinction. As well as being seen among the company of the LGBT superhero support group known playfully as the "Justice League Queer"