#OC: crow holiday

[voidthewanderer]

For the paranormal asks:

1,6 and 9 for Crow, Ripper and Arsenic ?

(01) Is your OC superstitious?

Ripper: Not particularly. He doesn't shun other people for being superstitious, however. His grandparents used to tell the superstition of Writing Love Letters To Juliet Capulet, which is most likely why he's not; given the story of Romeo and Juliet ended very tragically. Why would writing love letters to Juliet would grant potential love.

Crow: To an extent. They play on some of the more common ones, such as walking under a ladder is bad luck, throwing a pinch of salt over your shoulder toward off evil, knock on wood, etc. They very heavily believe in the strength of nazars.

Arsenic: Absolutely not. He finds that most superstitions come true because they're generally mentions of 'bad luck'; so people overreact and the bad thing does actually happen.

(06) What is your OC's favorite cryptid?

Ripper: He loves the story of the thunderbird. While not necessarily a cryptid, it's the first thing that comes to his mind when asked the question.

Crow: They're a Jersey Devil fan. There's a magazine that releases semi-annually called Weird NJ, which highlights many different types of haunts in New Jersey, which uses the Jersey Devil as one of their mascots. They fell in love with the design of it.

Arsenic: He likes anything sea serpent or aquatic. It's a hard time choosing between the Loch Ness Monster, Ogopogo, and Champ. However, if he's being a tease or just a brat, he'll say the kraken. For reasons.

(09) Has your OC ever seen a ghost?

Ripper: He hasn't; or rather, he believes he hasn't. Since he is a bit of a skeptic when it comes to ghosts, so he tries to find logical explanations for certain things. While he hasn't actually seen a ghost (at least in his canon), he has experienced them. Gotta face it, New Jersey's pretty damn haunted. He's seen what happens when you disrespect The Devil's Tree (ex friend of his took a dare to carve something into the tree; they wound up with their car broken down not even ten minutes after they left). He's driven along Shades Of Death Road (which is right next to Jenny Jump State Forest and Ghost Lake); his headlights kept failing despite having recently replaced them and they were fine once he'd left the area. He's still a thrill seeker with paranormal stuff, even if he is a skeptic. Not to mention as well, he took refuge in Sterling Hill Mine when the bombs fell; which is allegedly one of the most haunted places on the east coast.

Crow: Yes. They truly believe they've seen the ghost of their family multiple times when living in Caine. Not to mention as well, they've also been to some of the New Jersey haunts as well (with Rips on Shades Of Death Road; saw something on the side of the road). They've also visited Boldt Castle in Alexandria Bay, New York, which they've experienced disembodied footsteps through quieter parts of the castle.

Arsenic: He has not. Arsen's generally not the same type of paranormal thrill seeker like Crow and Ripper are, a non-believer; and even he knows that even if they were real, ghosts wouldn't be active during peak tourist hours and most haunts are tourist spots.

[billfrancois]

Happy holidays from Sunny and Mr. Willow!

[notasouleater]

Halloween costumes! Going as a fae and a ghost (their original character concepts before the sci-fi hit me with a steel chair)

[tokachithewarrior2]

Tokachi - reno

Luciel - Frosty

Terri - jack frost

Salacia - Navidad del pasado

Olga - La navidad del presente

Shayo - La navidad del futuro

Lucy - Scrucht

Claudia - espirituCompanero de negocios

Irena - Santa Sirena!

@soutenir-les-artistes

[cursed-blood-official-blog]

Happy Holidays from Monserts! (12)

artist: @spemmort

[mildlybizarrecorvid]

Someone requested to be summoned swiftly, so I started one of these

Do you, or an oc, or a look you like

This guy's Tarrgven, but human to work with the system

@methoxyacetyltryptamine, @louisspikeskellwood, @stackofsnakes, @nick--knack, 

@pokeybananas, @toadboatt, @secretlyafiveheadeddragon, @jochi-the-veristithaylen-baker, @masterwound

@dingleberry-art, @yourpastafarianpriest, @27dragonsinatrenchcoat, @olliedoesthings, @17ghostsinatrenchcoar

@aflairforthemelodramaticc, @thiings-with-wings, @0minimity, @hetalia-newbie-butnotreally, @chaos-triangle

@centellacrow, @problematicghost, @definitely-brasil, @evil-maryland, @solar-panel-official

@frostseeker-draws, @roxtron, @ashes-onthewind, @theasexualagent, @friendly-neighborhood-gambler,

@snknyx, @la-funni-frog, @renneedsahobbytbh, @killtheratwithameatcleaver, @starflare2,

@ethan-torchios-bitch, @cas-the-angel-of-thursday, @secretly-insane, @lookingforfrog, @ilovegorillas

@armath-the-wise, @orion-the-starspinner, @themongosianhorse, @madeline-celeste, @arsonstick,

 @mentodento, @lilithofthevaalley, @attentiondeficitastartes, @re4lfox2ock8,

@inkpoint, @salademalade, @patheticprogrammingperson, @eli-after-dark, @genderfluid-diaries,

@the-true-noodles, @lightbulbsarefun, @fuzzypeng1n, @fourquartertoast, @lesbianapollochild,

@crowthekiller, @stardusts-supervoid, @ontario-officeal, @dragonicat, @themonster-under-your-bed,

@minervakarsh, @la-funni-frog @l4rge-spe4ker @404pagenotavailable @th3-r4t-48

@juniperberryjuice @unused-paradox @neverendnight @breathethewater @not-a-skeleton-and-is-a-human

@thebutterflyoficeandwisteria @thebookshelflord @eldritch-bean @holiday-spice @kanejbr3kker

@lordhavemercyyyyy @unnamedtse @newfoundland-official @blondesillyboylover

@dustyoldclock @someonesrealityshifting @borntobegirlqueen @notatumb1rsexyman @kakzendingen

@itsliterallyjustme @very-gay-poet @cyprysonmteveryst @quiclycasual @sushisocksthereal

@bvnnyl0v3r @yourlocalxiaosimp @sumarmz @gorganicamphibole @the-dragon-sin

@herothat @atlas-the-mythology @gummy-axolotl @asb-nerd-3327 @theshelteredbrat

@thesillyguy @aro-luigi @knightwolfghost @silverwanderingcrow @aspenii

@martinthebean @lemonsharkbite @nyyx-xoxx @magicalgear @basilthesnakingthing

@maybiirds @curliefried @atom1o6 @emilem-forevermore @speakofthedebbie

@beesechurger1909 @mintbecrazy @alchemicalwerewolf @kai-tus @kkqums

@themarshmush @maxspartnerincrime @khaoticspartan @saturn-in-retrograde0 @pyxilate

@charbored @runesofthedivine @hallowsy @faelovesthings @sodium-ion

@tsarq @i-hate--names @that-notrussian @flintlockfrenchkisser @abigail-the-bagel

@3-crows-in-a-trenchcoat @beensjamin @random-fnaf-fan1 @the1970sdeadgaywizard-regulus @off-brand-halloween-ghost

@ that-angry-frog, @offiiciallybavaria, @germany-official, @ffswhyareallthenamestaken, @buggz-owlz,

@kkqums, @ontario-officeal, @crowthekiller, @plorpoy, @anomalocaris-in-da-clurb,

@adhd7seelie, @darth-moth, @girl-with-bones, @not-not-turnblr, @bat-detector

@consumerofshorthomies @the-interidiot @but-aint-this-texas @givenscribbles @real-boeing-757

@kiwi-had-nothing-better-to-do @no-tengo-ojos @jaydove-writes @sky-is-purple-because-i-said-so @jan-pi-suli-ala

[trickphotography2]

'tis the damn season | Chapter 2

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Julie/Cece (OC, no physical description)

Word count: 5.7K

Synopsis: After six years away from home, Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin was finally going to make his parents happy and surprise his family by spending Christmas in Magnolia, Texas. Introducing his pregnant fiancee to his family is a culture clash, with rural Texas meeting California influencer. Though unhappy in his relationship, Jake knows he has to buckle down and do the right thing with a baby on the way.

The last person he expected to run into was his high school sweetheart and the one that got away, Julie.

The holidays are already going to be hard enough for Julie. Her home baking business, which had started as a fun side project, exploded after a few TikToks went viral. Just when she was getting the hang of juggling her job and business, tragedy struck. Facing her first Christmas as an orphan, the last thing Julie expected was to hear that once familiar nickname - Cece.

After almost a decade apart, Jake and Julie can't help but feel that old familiar spark. Even with the realities of their lives pressing in, they can't help but wonder what might have happened if just one of them had fought for their relationship all those years ago.

Chapter 1 | Master List | Ao3

---------------------------------------

Chapter 2

“Mama. Cece.” Julie blinked, unable to trust her bleary eyes. But no matter how much she tried to clear her vision, Jake Seresin stood in his mother’s kitchen. 

With a woman who had a possessive hand on his chest and a smug expression on her face. 

And a large diamond on her finger.

“What are you doing here?” Mama Seresin demanded, emotion coloring her voice as she hurried across the kitchen to throw her arms around her youngest son. “You said you couldn’t make it.” 

“Wanted it to be a surprise,” he answered, eyes locked on Julie before lowering when he hugged his mama. Julie tore her gaze away, mentally cataloging the differences from the last time she’d seen him. Like the new crows' feet decorating his eyes, deeper smile lines carved into his cheeks, and the fact that he seemed larger. He’d gained muscle in college, shifting from a wiry teenager to a strong military guy. And now… now he looked even bigger than he had the last time she’d seen him, with a new seriousness that he hadn’t possessed before. 

The woman studied her, eyes narrowing briefly as they swept Julie’s frame. Apparently satisfied by the too-large t-shirt and ratty jeans, the woman’s eyebrow twitched before returning to Jake’s mother. 

“Well, you sure managed it. And whose this?” 

“Mama, this is Shayla. My, uh…fiancee.” Pink dusted his cheeks as his eyes darted up to meet Julie’s again, and he gave her a strained smile as his mother gasped. Julie forced herself to smile at the couple and push away the awkwardness of her ex-fiancee announcing his new engagement. 

“Fiancee?” Mama Seresin echoed. 

“Hi,” Shayla beamed, ignorant of the sudden tension. “It’s nice to meet you! Jakey’s told me so much about you.” 

“Has he, now?” the older woman said, tone a syrupy sweet that belied the brittle irritation underneath. Julie caught Jake’s eye twitch and pressed her lips into a thin line to avoid smirking. Unless things had changed, he hated being called Jakey. It had been his brother’s go-to nickname growing up to tease him about being little and got heavy rotation once Jake started to call him BJ. Julie was convinced that Bill Junior now insisted on being called Will because, during a wrestling match after too much spiked egg nog, Jake had called him BJ in front of Ally the first Christmas she visited the ranch. 

Jake had returned to Annapolis with a few bruised ribs that Julie had heard all about when he complained about his physical training. Bill was never called BJ again, and everyone respected his wish to be called Will. 

Shayla turned her gaze to Julie, who was pulled from her musings as the other woman grinned. “You must be Allison.” 

“No.”

“That’s Cece.”

“Julie, actually.”

“Oh,” Shayla frowned, nose wrinkling in confusion while glancing between Jake and Julie. “I just thought, since you’re here so early…”  

“Just stopped by for breakfast and some eggs,” Julie shrugged, lifting the basket. “I’ve got to go, or I’ll be late for work. It was nice to meet you, Shayla. And... congratulations on the engagement. Welcome home, Jake.” 

Jake took a small step forward as though to hug her and paused when Julie shuffled backward. “Thanks, Cece.” 

“I’ll walk you out, honey,” Mama Seresin said, walking over to Julie and placing a hand on her lower back. As they exited the kitchen, the two women heard Shayla clear her throat.

“So, is her name Cece or Julie? And who is she?”

“Julie,” Jake replied. “She’s… she’s an old family friend.”

“Jake? Jake fucking Seresin?” Lucy demanded as Julie laid her head on her desk and closed her eyes. 

“Yup.”

“What the hell is he doing back here?”

“Well, I’m guessing the fact that it’s Christmas and he’s engaged probably has something to do with it.” 

“I can’t believe that fucker is engaged again.” Julie felt her lip twitch at her friend’s comment. But just as she was going to reply, a chime sounded, alerting them to someone using the drive-up teller services. “Hold that thought,” Lucy said, sliding off her chair.

Taking that as a sign to actually start working, Julie sat up and logged into her computer. One of the other bank tellers had called out sick that morning, so she was helping to cover the desk rather than sitting in her office processing loan applications. Given that it was just a few days before Christmas, there were only a few applications to get through - a couple of car loans and small business ones. 

Stretching, Julie grimaced when she felt her back crack a few times. She’d been up late again working on an order and felt every hour she’d leaned over her kitchen counter to make sure that the 200 hand-drawn decorations were right. She still needed to pipe ganache into the macaroon shells before boxing them up and driving the two hours to Amarillo to deliver. Taking the last-minute order for a holiday party had been a mistake, but the extra money offered for the rush would go straight into her moving fund. 

Just after three in the morning, Julie called it quits and passed out on the couch. Two hours later, her phone had gone off to remind her to head to the Seresin ranch for her weekly breakfast with the family. As much as she wanted to beg off, she’d offered to make cinnamon rolls, and Allison, pregnant with her first baby, had made her swear to include extra caramel. Not one to piss off a pregnant woman, Julie dragged herself off to the shower and quickly drank a cup of cold coffee before getting in her car. Since moving back from Austin two years ago to care for her dad, the Seresins had checked in on her. 

It was hard to think of a time the Seresins hadn’t been a part of Julie’s life. Her mom had been best friends with Mama Seresin and had gotten closer after falling pregnant at the same time. When Julie was in third grade, she’d been spending the night at their house so her parents could celebrate their anniversary, and she woke up to Mama Seresin telling her they needed to get to the hospital. 

She tried not to think about that night too much, but flashes of it invaded her dreams every February. Glimpses of Jake and Will, confused as their mom bundled her into the car with tears on her cheeks. How dark it was as they flew down the road to the hospital in the neighboring town, snow hitting the windshield. The crowd of firefighters - her daddy’s coworkers - in the emergency room. The sad looks they gave her. And then the confusion of seeing her daddy, who never cried, sobbing as he pulled her into his arms and told her that Mama was gone. 

As much as Julie missed her mother, she’d been blessed with abundant family. Not only had the Seresins taken her in and treated her as one of their own, but so had the firehouse. The mainly volunteer force had adopted her, making sure that she never wanted for anything. On nights when her daddy couldn’t stay in their quiet home, they would go to the station and sit with the men on shift. Julie learned to cook and bake with the rookies, spent nights playing poker while betting Oreos, and learned how to make trick shots at the pool table. 

Even after being away from Magnolia since she was 18, it had picked right back up when she’d moved back after Daddy’s cancer diagnosis. He’d reluctantly stepped down as the town fire chief when it became too hard to manage his treatment and work. Still, it wasn’t uncommon to find him in the firehouse with his men when Julie was at work. She would come home to find Mama and Mr. Seresin sitting in the kitchen, dinner already in the oven. The three of them had ganged up on her and convinced her to re-enroll in pastry school, shifting from the in-person program in Austin she’d been attending at night to the online one.

So, after days spent at the bank, she would sit at the kitchen table and practice knife skills, how to make meringues and buttercreams, candied fruits, the science behind bread making, and how to decorate. There were also classes on operating in the hospitality industry and starting your own business. After taking pictures of her assignments and submitting them, the pastries went to the firehouse, work, or the Seresin’s house. 

Soon, she was getting requests. A coworker asked her to make a birthday cake. One of the firemen asked for cupcakes. After posting a picture of cookies decorated with royal icing, she got a message asking if she would make some for a baby shower. A batch of macaroons dropped off for Mama Seresin’s quilting club led to three women reaching out for her flavor list. On one memorable occasion, a grandmother finished her banking deposit and promptly asked Julie for “one of those fancy cakes” for her anniversary. 

Magnolia was no longer content with grocery store pastries. And, while Julie was happy with the practice, the amount of people wanting her baking was overwhelming. It had taken her dad sitting her down after a long day trying to design a cookie order for her to start charging for more than just ingredients. To her surprise, there hadn’t been much pushback when she’d put out a price list the next time someone asked her to make something. 

To keep her Austin friends in the loop, she’d made TikToks as she baked. At first, there were only a dozen views and comments from her friends. When she included videos of her making her orders, the Magnolia residents started to follow her. And then, unexpectedly, a video of her dad helping her heat seal cookies while she flooded another batch went viral. Older videos of her cakes suddenly got thousands of views and comments. Her DMs were flooded with messages asking if she shipped. She received requests from brides asking for her website. 

The sudden interest was overwhelming, and Julie was inundated with orders. In her spare time, she built a website that got thousands of hits. After work, she would stay up late baking to ensure she could ship orders. Weekends were spent driving around Texas, Oklahoma, and New Mexico, making deliveries. She was a nervous wreck when she booked her first wedding and spent the entire seven-hour drive to Fort Worth terrified that she would be in a car accident and destroy the cake. 

When Daddy got really sick, all of that fell by the wayside. The bank let her take a leave of absence, and she took a semester off of school. After filling her orders, she shut down her website. She posted a video saying she was taking a break from baking and making content. Her life narrowed to the hospital room, listening to the steady beeping of her daddy’s heart monitor and the hiss of the cannula helping him breathe. A revolving door of people kept them company in the hospital, making her daddy laugh with some story from the job or growing up in Magnolia. There was always someone to sit with him when she was persuaded to go home to shower and spend a few hours in her bed. 

But when the time came, she was alone to hold his hand and whisper in his ear that it was okay to go and to give her love to Mommy. 

Julie spent the next few months dragging herself to the bank and collapsing into bed. Her friends from Austin flew in for the funeral and tried to convince her to move back, but it felt too soon to leave. There was too much that needed to be handled, and the idea of selling the house she grew up in and permanently leaving Magnolia wasn’t something she could face. 

After ignoring her TikTok for months, Julie forced herself to open the app and read the comments. Watching the videos with her dad hurt, but she loved seeing how much her followers loved him. So, after having a bit too much wine, she decided to break out her cookie sheets for the first time since he went into the hospital and made his favorite - simple, classic peanut butter cookies - and shared the news. As they baked, she leaned against the counter and sobbed. Her followers sent their condolences and told her to take care of herself. 

Eight months after his passing, Julie was slowly reopening her shop. She only accepted orders that would be filled in a few weeks rather than months in advance. It severely cut down on her wedding orders, but it was nice not to have that added stress. With Magnolia as her home base, she was still doing a bit of travel but fitting in her baking around her day job. Daddy had encouraged her to take the leap into being a home baker full-time and even left her enough money to set her up to do that for a while, but Julie was reluctant to tap into it before moving. 

The front door opened, and Julie looked up from her computer and smiled at the man entering. Dressed in his blue pants and grey polo with the fire logo, Captain Drew Pine strolled in, eyes locking on her. “Hey, Jules,” he said, grabbing a withdrawal slip.

“Hey Drew. What brings you in today?”

“Need to get some cash. Promised to buy some candy bars from Charlie’s daughter for her fundraiser.”

“You know there’s an ATM outside, right? Could have saved you a trip inside.” 

“But then I wouldn’t see you,” he grinned. Lucy, apparently done with the transaction at the window, snorted.

“Well, that’s nice of you,” Julie replied, taking the slip of paper and license he slid across the counter. “How’s everyone at the house been?”

“Good. We got a new rookie who's learning the ropes. Thankfully, his fire skills are better than his cooking ones.”

“That bad?” she chuckled, opening the cash drawer. “You want this any special way?” 

“A twenty, ten, and fives would be great. He’s definitely no you when it comes to his desserts - made some brownies the other night, and Rich nearly broke a tooth.” 

“Is this your subtle way of asking me to bring something by?” Tugging off his baseball cap, he ran a hand through his black hair and chuckled, brown eyes crinkling.

“Am I being that obvious?”

“Just a little.” After counting the cash out for him, Julie propped her chin on her fist and hummed. “I have a huge order I’m working on right now, but I can probably drop something off your next shift.” 

“You’re a lifesaver, Jules. And maybe I can take you to dinner for a thank you?”

“Not necessary,” she replied, pink staining her cheeks. “I just appreciate everything y’all did for my dad.”

“Brian was one of our own,” Drew shrugged. “We miss him, too.” Chewing her inner lip, she nodded, willing herself not to cry. “So about that dinner?”

“Raincheck? I’m swamped right now,” she replied after clearing her throat.

“Those rainchecks are stacking up,” he said, a little less confident this time. 

“I know, I just…business is kind of crazy right now with the holidays.” 

“Right. Well, if you ever need anything, you know how to get in touch with me.” After tapping a finger to his cap, he nodded. “I’ll see you later, Jules. Lucy.”

“Drew,” Lucy replied, collapsing into her chair. When the door closed behind him, she whirled to face Julie. “Put the poor man out of his misery and say yes one of these times.” 

“I’m - ”

“Not dating ‘cause you don’t know when you’re gonna leave,” the other woman cut her off, rolling her eyes. “No one said you have to marry him. Just go out and have fun. Hot, sexy, sweaty fun with the fuckin’ fire captain. And tell your married best friend all about it so I can live vicariously.” 

“I’ll get right on that,” Julie scoffed, turning back to the computer.

“You’d have adorable babies with Drew,” Lucy added under her breath. She chose to ignore that.

Jake lay in his childhood bed, staring up at the ceiling. After Cece left, Mama insisted that he and Shay nap since they’d been traveling since 1:30AM. But, while he was a bit tired, it felt wrong to be trying to sleep when the rest of the family was out doing their chores. 

Heaving a sigh, he got up and stretched, feeling his back crack from being in the uncomfortable twin-sized bed. Shay was staying down the hall in one of the guest bedrooms. When she’d shot Jake a look that clearly said she wasn’t happy with it, he’d shrugged - it was his parent’s house, so they would be playing by their rules. Besides, he wasn’t exactly upset by having some physical space between them. Once they returned to San Diego, they would have to figure out the living situation with a baby on the way. 

Besides his time in the dorms and the few months Cece had been with him in Virginia, Jake hadn’t lived with anyone since moving out. He liked the peace of coming home from work and knowing everything was where he left it. The idea of merging his stuff with Shayla’s was overwhelming - he wasn’t exactly a neat freak, but he liked his space tidy. Her two-bedroom apartment was filled with products to test and cluttered as hell. He hoped that, since they had seven months before the baby came, they would have plenty of time to figure out the logistics of marriage and co-parenting.

After peeking in to see that Shayla was sleeping, Jake went downstairs to the empty house. With a cup of coffee in hand, he slipped on his shoes and stepped onto the back porch. Taking a deep breath, he inhaled the familiar scent of home - crisp air and the heavy odor of manure - and listened to the cows mooing. With a glance back at the house, he descended the few steps and made his way to the horse barn.

Soft whinnying met his ears as he pushed back the door and was hit with a rush of warm air. He couldn’t help but grin at his older brother standing outside the last horse stall, leaning against the railing and frowning. But when his eyes turned to meet Jake’s, there was a momentary look of confusion before he pushed away from the stall. “Didn’t Mama send you to bed, squirt?” 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Jake replied, striding across the barn and hugging Will. Over his shoulder, he saw his sister-in-law stepping out of the stall and closing it behind her. “Hey, Ally.” 

“Hey, Jakey,” she smirked, gently shoving her husband out of the way and hugging him. “It’s okay to call you that, right? I heard it was on the approved list of names now.” His eye twitched, knowing that the family had already talked about him and Shayla.

“Definitely not. The only exception will be this one,” he added, hovering a hand over her stomach. “I could deal with being Uncle Jakey for him.” 

“I’ll hold you to that,” she grinned, rubbing a hand over her pregnant belly. Turning to her husband, she leaned in to peck his cheek. “Tink’s all good. I’m gonna go get another one of Julie’s cinnamon rolls and then hit the road. I’ve got an appointment at the Perry’s in an hour and need to stop by the house first.”

“The doc said you shouldn’t have too many sweets,” Will frowned, resting a hand on his wife’s stomach. 

“Julie’s don’t count. Besides, your kid is the one making me want it.”

“Cece made those?” Jake asked but was promptly ignored.

“Pretty sure they do. And don’t pretend that I didn’t see her give you another tray of them to take to the house.” Ally scoffed and shook her head. Recognizing his defeat, Will sighed. “Want me to drive you to the Perrys? Now that Jakey’s here, he can help Pops with the milking.” Jake rolled his eyes, then looked away when Ally tilted her head and smiled at her husband.

“I’m good, honey. ‘Sides, you might traumatize the city boy by actually puttin’ him to work. Probably doesn’t even remember how to use the milking machines since he hasn’t been home in six years.”

“Ha, ha,” Jake scoffed, feeling slightly ashamed. “You know I pilot an 80 million dollar jet, right?” 

“Shut up, squirt, I’m talkin’ to my wife here,” Will said, reaching out and shoving his brother. 

“Speaking of!” Ally snapped, turning and pointing a finger at him. “What’s this your mama said about a fiancee?” 

“Yeah, I thought you broke up with her.” The brothers frowned at one another, and Jake’s eyes darted away. 

“Well, things change.” 

“Can’t have changed that much,” Will pressed. “You were pretty set on it when you got home.” A flush crept up Jake’s neck, and he couldn’t help but glance at Ally’s stomach. Catching it, Will scowled. 

“She’s not…”

“We haven’t told anyone.” 

“You stupid son of a - ”

“What?” Ally demanded, glancing between the two men. 

“Seems like Tyler’s gonna have a cousin,” Will said through grit teeth. 

“What?” Jake glanced at his sister-in-law and gave her a weak smile.

“Surprise.” With a polite smile, Ally hugged him. 

“Congrats, Jake. That’s exciting news. You gonna tell Mama and Pops while you’re home?”

“That’s the plan. Wanted them to get to know Shay before telling them, though.”

“Well, good luck with that. I’ve gotta go, or I’ll be late. We’ll talk later, alright?” After sharing a quick kiss and a significant look with her husband, Ally left. Jake scrubbed a hand through his hair as his brother let out a heavy sigh. 

“I guess congratulations are in order. I’m assumin’ that’s why you’re engaged now?” 

“It’s the right thing to do.” After a long silence, the older man sighed again.

“Alright, squirt. We’ll keep your secret, but you gotta tell Mama soon, or she’ll figure it out and be pissed. Ally tried to keep it a secret, and then Mama brought her a baby blanket and said she had a dream she’d need it.” 

Jake shook his head and smirked. His mama and her dreams… she’d told him he’d be a pilot one day and live by the beach. She’d also been the one to tell him that he and Cece would give her grandbabies.

But that had just been wishful thinking for two women who were best friends and pregnant at the same time.  

Julie leaned against her car and closed her eyes as the tank filled. Her hands were cramped from spending three hours piping ganache and assembling macaroons and decorative boxes. The three larger cardboard boxes sat on her backseat, ready for delivery in Amarillo. After taking a couple hours off work, she’d finished the order just in time to jump on the road and make her delivery time.

And, with any luck, she would be home by 10:00PM. She needed to finish some cake pops for the library holiday party, which shouldn’t take too long. With any luck, she could be sliding into bed around 1:00AM. 

A car door closed, and she forced her eyes open to see who had joined her at the gas station. And then had to blink to make sure that she wasn’t imagining those green eyes. 

“Cece.”

“Jake,” she replied, pushing off her car and glancing at the gas pump. Her tank had to be almost full by now. Out of the corner of her eyes, she watched him circle his truck and reach into the bed to retrieve two gas canisters. After setting them at his feet, he swiped his credit card and frowned at the machine, one hand planted on his hip. Turning her gaze back to her own pump, she let her eyes glaze over as she watched the numbers tick upward. 

Finally, it popped, startling her out of her daze. She quickly returned the nozzle to the pump and turned to click the gas cap onto her car. She saw Jake watching her out of the corner of her eye and forced herself not to look. He spoke again when she reached for her door handle. “I’m sorry about your dad.” 

Inhaling sharply, she lifted her head to meet his steady gaze. He had that stupid, pitying look she’d gotten so used to over the last year. But for some reason, his hurt more than anyone else’s. “Thanks.”

“I would have come home for the funeral, but - ”

“Your mom told me you were deployed. It’s fine. Thanks for the flowers.” Seeing that arrangement at the funeral home had been a surprise, along with the simple note. 

So sorry for your loss. Your dad was a good man, and he loved you so much. Thinking of you. 

Love, Jake

“Least I could have done. How… how have you been?” 

“Okay,” she shrugged. “It’s… everyone’s been so amazing and kind. Especially your family.” She caught the twitch of his eyebrow and the briefest look of confusion. “They’ve gotta be happy your home. It’s been a long time.”

“Too long,” he agreed. “But it’s not like Magnolia ever changes.”

“I mean, we do have a fancy coffee shop now,” Julie smirked, knowing full well that he was a black coffee drinker, just like his daddy and brother. He rolled his eyes, and she couldn’t help but chuckle. “There’s been some change, but you’re right - it’s mainly the same.” 

“You, uh… you planning to move back to Austin, now that…”

“Maybe. Or Dallas. Or maybe out of Texas. How’s California?”

“Great. I think you’d like it.” That startled a laugh out of her.

“I meant for you. Your dad told me you moved out there a couple of years ago.”

“Oh,” Jake said, blushing. “Not bad. I’m stationed in San Diego now, so it feels more like California than Lemoore. And there’s no snow,” he added, glancing up at the grey sky threatening more flurries as the sunset.” At her heavy sigh, he turned back to see her slowly blinking. “You alright?”

“Yeah. I just… I need to get on the road.”

“You should have plenty of time to get home before it starts.” 

“I’m headed down to Amarillo, so I’ll drive back in it.” He frowned, taking in the dark circles under her eyes and the tired slump of her shoulders. He’d seen that exact look many times before tucking her into bed. As if on cue, she covered her mouth while yawning and then blinked away tears when opening her eyes wide. 

“You’re stayin’ the night down there?”

“No, just a quick trip.” 

“That’s four hours round trip in good weather.” 

“I know.” 

“Cece… are you okay to drive?” A tired smile crossed her lips.

“I’m fine, Jake. I’ve got my coffee and an audiobook, and I’ll pull over if it gets bad.” The idea of her pulled over on some highway, alone and in the snow, made him anxious. He’d hated it when she would call him from a rest stop to let him know she was pulling over to sleep while driving to see him in flight school. No matter how many times he offered to get her a hotel, she’d always said it wasn’t worth it for a quick cat nap. So Jake had kept this phone in hand and begged her to call as soon as she was back on the road. He felt like he could breathe again after hearing her voice and held her tighter every time she got to him. 

Jake remembered all too clearly the night that he’d woken to his mama crying and taking Cece to the hospital after the accident. How her pops had looked at the funeral as they buried her mama. The way Mr. Ryan screamed at Jake for being reckless and irresponsible when they snuck out one night when they were twelve, and he taught her how to drive the feed truck in the field. When they’d left, his mama had held him and dried his tears, explaining that he was just being protective of his daughter. Unlike the other 15-year-olds, Cece hadn’t gotten her learner’s permit and had to wait until 17. Mr. Ryan only relented after she’d thrown a fit that left her face red and tearstained and made her practice driving at the firehouse. 

They didn’t tell anyone about her taking the wheel on their late-night drives, and Jake wasn’t surprised when she passed her test with flying colors. 

As the first snowflakes started to fall, it was on the tip of his tongue to offer to drive her. But as he opened his mouth to offer, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. 

Grab me a kombucha while you’re out. I need something other than sweet tea and water.

Gritting his teeth, Jake dismissed the text from Shayla and looked up to see Cece watching him. “Everything okay?”

“Fine. Just Shay wanting something.” Cece took a deep breath at the mention of her name and blew it out, misting white before her. 

“Right. Well, I’ll see you around, Jake.”

“Let me know when you’re home safe?” The request was out of his mouth before his brain caught up. Her hand froze on the door handle, and she glanced at him, something familiar and warm flickering in her eyes before disappearing. 

“I’ll be fine, Jake.” 

“At least tell me you’ve got an emergency kit in there.” When her brows furrowed, he ran a hand through his hair and huffed. “Cece.”

“It’s not that bad of a storm, Jake. I’ll be fine.” 

“Don’t move,” he ordered, stepping away from the gas canisters and circling the back of the truck to lower the gate and climb into the bed. Grabbing a large bag from the toolbox, he jumped down and stalked over to her, holding it out. “Take it. I’ll tell Pops you have it.”

“I - ”

“Take it, or I’ll drive the whole way behind you to make sure you get back safe.” The determined set of his jaw made Julie scowl. She’d seen that look too many times to not take it seriously. Biting the inside of her lip, she reluctantly took it, pointedly ignoring how his warm fingers brushed hers. “Text me when you’re home.” 

“I’d need your number to do that.”

“It hasn’t changed.” The challenge in his gaze made her tip up her chin, and she refused to confirm that she’d kept it all these years. She thought she saw his eyes dart down to her lips for a moment but pushed that thought away. Clearly, she was exhausted and seeing things. 

“Bye, Jacob.” Her clipped tone was one that he’d heard after so many arguments. Nights that she’d slammed a door in his face or hung up, ignoring his attempts to call her back. 

It was the last words she’d said to him before she’d driven out of his life and shattered their future. But at least this time, there was fire behind them instead of resignation.

He opened his mouth to retort when his phone vibrated again. When his hand slipped into his back pocket, Cece pressed her lips together and gave a curt nod, turning on her heel. 

Their eyes met as she pulled away from the pump, and Jake was hit with a wave of deja vu. 

It was close to midnight when Jake crept down the stairs to the kitchen to retrieve his mother’s phone. After unlocking the device - the code was her wedding anniversary, just like every code in the house - he quickly pulled up her contact list. 

Cece hadn’t changed her number. 

Locking it, he pulled his own phone from his pocket and leaned against the counter. His finger hovered over her name but he hesitated before calling. When the screen dimmed, he let the phone fall onto the counter and hung his head, scrubbing his fingers through his hair. 

He was engaged. To another woman. Texting his ex-fiancee when his pregant fiancee was upstairs editing a video wasn’t exactly good husband or father material. Jake knew he needed to buckle down and focus on his relationship with Shayla if he was ever going to make it work. And part of that meant doing exactly what Cece did to him - leaving her in the rearview mirror.

The image of her yawning at the gas station flashed through his mind, quickly replaced with the visceral memory of her falling asleep in his arms. He could still smell the coconut shampoo she used, and feel her cold toes pressed to his shin. It never mattered how warm it was, she was always cold. 

Quickly, he grabbed his phone and typed out a message. 

Did you make it home safe? The message flashed as delivered, and he waited for a response. But the phone locked as he waited, and he pushed off the counter to get a glass of water. 

It wasn’t until he’d kissed Shayla goodnight and crawled into his bed that his phone lit up again.

Pulled over and slept for an hour. Just getting home. Thanks for the blanket.

Jake read the text again. Frustration that she’d even driven alone in the storm, and slept in some random spot on the road, mixed with relief that she was safe. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, and he almost typed out a message telling her how reckless it was to park on the side of the road when it was snowing, but he stopped himself.

Instead, he simply liked the message and turned off his phone. He needed get some sleep - he’d be joining his Pops and Will with their chores in the morning.

In town, Julie pulled out her piping bags and glitter before settling down to get back to work, a fresh pot of coffee brewing. 

-----------------------------------------

Read Chapter 3

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[charmingsoa]

■ Bring it On Home to Me (one) ■ John Egan x OC ■ ■ Multi chapter story ■

⚠ Chapter warning ⚠ Sexual content, physical and verbal abuse, mention of sexual assault, cursing, sexism. Please be advised when reading.

🚨 A/N: Hello and welcome to the first real chapter of Bring it on Home to Me! So, this will start at the very beginning of Vanessa and John's journey and I found it important to focus the first chapter on Vanessa's life before John. It will feature some moments that are tough to read and the warnings have been posted above. It will also feature German and British words - Google was my friend for this chapter! I hope you all enjoy the update and I would love to hear your thoughts, opinions, anything really! My DM is open and ready!!

📣 If you would like to be tagged, please let me know 📣

The atmosphere in the room was thick with a mixture of desire, desperation, and a touch of melancholy. The women moved gracefully among the patrons, their painted smiles hiding a myriad of emotions – from weariness to resignation to a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, tonight would bring a reprieve from the harsh realities of war.

The soldiers, their uniforms worn and dusty, bore the weight of the battlefield on their shoulders. For a moment in time, they sought solace in the arms of these women who offered fleeting moments of respite from the chaos and carnage that awaited them outside.

The women, too, carried their own burdens – stories of loss, of shattered dreams, of lives upended by forces beyond their control. Yet in the dimly lit room, they transformed into sirens of solace, offering comfort and companionship to those who sought it amid turmoil.

For these girls, the prospect of spending the night with a soldier meant more than just a temporary escape from the harsh realities of war. A chance to rest their weary bodies and minds in the comfort of a warm bed. The opportunity to freshen up and tend to their basic needs was a luxury in a world where survival often took precedence over self-care.

I was one of the fortunate ones with relatives who still resided in the small town where many of us had sought refuge. My aunt’s house giving me shelter when the night was over. There were times when I would accept the gentleman’s offer to stay until morning, most of the time sneaking out before the rooster had time to crow.

My home in London, once a bustling metropolis teeming with life and energy, now lay in ruins – a somber reminder of the indiscriminate nature of conflict. The streets I had once walked with purpose and pride were now buried beneath layers of concrete and ashes, the echoes of past laughter and conversations drowned out by the deafening silence of destruction.

My family – or what was left of family now only consisted of my aunt – my earned money keeping the bank from taking the house from under her feet. She didn’t agree with what I was doing to make the money, but that didn’t stop her from pushing me to leave every evening, making sure that I wore the dresses that would get the most attention.

“Slow night, huh?”

The bartender smiled as he poured the glass full of the brown liquid that kept my courage high enough to get through to the next day. “Seems that way.” I gave a nod as I nursed the glass.

My last client was over an hour ago – a poor RAF soldier – married to his secondary school love. I could tell he was a nervous wreck, his hands shaking like a leave in a thunderstorm. He explained to me that his CO had sent him to us – to take the edge off before he was sent off into the air. He didn’t want to do much – just talked about Lucille and his hope to finally get back to her once the war was through. Like many of the soldiers that had crossed my path, I wished them the best, saying a silent prayer as they walked out the door, back to a hell that no one could escape.

"Nessa – you're up!"

The words pierced through the subdued ambiance of the room, a sense of purpose stirred within me, pulling me from the comfortable numbness that had settled over my thoughts. With a quick glance in the direction of the older man who requested my service, I took in his features – a strong jawline, broad shoulders – devoid of any telltale signs of military service.

Finishing the last remnants of my drink in a single smooth motion, I slid off the stool with a practiced grace, the fabric of my dress whispering softly against my skin as I straightened it with deliberate care. The air around me seemed to crackle with anticipation, a silent energy that hummed beneath the surface of the room.

Louella, the madame of the establishment, offered me a brief nod of approval before turning her attention to the other patrons. With measured steps, I made my way towards the man, my movements a delicate balance of confidence and allure, honed through years of navigating the intricacies of this world.

"Hello," I greeted him, my voice dipping an octave lower, the cadence laced with a hint of sultriness that mingled with the lilting notes of my native accent. In that moment, as our eyes met, I stepped into the role that had become second nature to me – a performer on the stage of desire, where masks were worn, and truths were whispered in the shadows.

He chose to stay silent, simply nodding his head, his hands in his pockets in a defensive manner. There had been men like him that stayed silent for most of the evening, only speaking when asked what they would like to do. This man felt different – his demeanor feeling like that of an ice block.

I hesitated for a moment, pushing away my gut feeling that this was going to end badly if I continued. I – Aunt Beatrice needed the money. I could do anything for a short amount of time, whether standing up or flat on my back.

Walking into the back bedroom, I stepped inside the dimly lit room, jumping slightly as he slammed the door shut behind us. His eyes boring into my soul. I cleared my throat, breaking the suffocating silence that enveloped us. "So, um, what exactly did you have in mind?" My voice sounded small and insignificant against the backdrop of his brooding presence.

He just stood there, never breaking eye contact as he evaluated me – searching for any cracks that he could fully break. "Take off your dress," he commanded, his German accent adding an edge to his words even though they were barely audible.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly reached up to the neck of the dress, my fingers pulling at the knot as the two pieces of fabric fell. The humid air hitting against my bare skin as the man’s eyes devoured my exposed chest. My hands pushed the remaining portion of the dress down to the floor, carefully stepping out of the ruched fabric as I now stood in nothing but a pair of heels in front of the stranger.

His long, slender finger pointed towards the bed, the dim light casting eerie shadows across the room. Silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the soft rustle of fabric as I followed his gesture, my heart pounding in my chest. I approached the bed, feeling a sudden wave of self-consciousness wash over me as I carefully took a seat on the crisp linen.

“Lie down and touch yourself.”

My eyes furrowed in confusion at his demand. "Excuse me?" I stammered, taken aback by the unexpected request.

His throat cleared in an annoyed manner, the sound cutting through the tense silence like a knife. I could sense his impatience, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. The atmosphere in the room shifted, the air suddenly charged with a palpable tension.

“I told you to lie down and touch yourself like the whore you are.”

As I held his gaze, I could see the hatred coursing through his piercing blue eyes like a raging river. The intensity of his emotions was almost tangible, a seething anger simmering just beneath the surface. It was as if a storm brewed behind those icy eyes, ready to unleash its fury at any given moment.

Gulping nervously, I gradually positioned myself on the bed, the creak of the mattress beneath me breaking through the hot air. With a trembling hand, I reached up to fan my hair out around me as I laid flat on my back, the cool touch of the sheets a stark contrast to the heat of the moment.

As I stared up at the moldy ceiling above me, a wave of despair washed over me, mingling with the fear and uncertainty that churned in my gut. The damp patches on the ceiling seemed to mock me, their distorted shapes dancing before my tear-filled eyes. Each droplet of water that dripped down felt like a painful reminder of the situation I found myself in.

“I told you to touch yourself, you stupid slut.” His anger spilled over, a palpable force that filled the room and washed over me like a wave. "Are you deaf?" I flinched at the harshness of his tone, the venom in his words striking a nerve deep within me.

I suddenly felt dizzy as I took a few deep breaths, my eyes tightly closed as I tried to compose myself. My hand shook violently as it moved down my body, resting atop my pussy as the first tear rolled off the side of my face.

“Mach es jetzt!” The german words crashing through the room like a loud clap of thunder. “Dumme hure!”

A stifled sob escaped through my quivering lips as my trembling fingers found my clit. The air growing heavy, the silence broken only by the ragged sound of my uneven breaths. I kept my head turned away from preying eyes of the man, my eyes tightly closed as the panic of the situation and the sensual feeling of my own touch conflicted my thoughts.

Soft moans formed in the depths of my constricted throat. Each heartbeat drummed a frantic rhythm in my chest, a desperate plea for escape echoing in the confines of my mind. The rustle of fabric filled the room, amplified by the deafening silence that hung between us, as the man’s hand slowly pulled at his trousers. The metallic rasp of the zipper being pulled down cut through the air like a blade, its sharp sound reverberating in my eardrums with a chilling finality. With each article of his clothing hitting the floor, every nerve in my body screamed in protest, a primal instinct urging me to flee from the impending unknown that lay before me. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as I heard him step closer to where I laid, each passing moment stretching into an eternity of fear and uncertainty.

With a trembling breath, I braced myself for whatever fate awaited me, already resigned to the harsh reality that my body would bear the brunt of this twisted exchange – the finale being a crumpled up 10 note thrown on my bruised body like I was a piece of rubbish on the street…

“Holy shit-“As Aunt Beatrice took a drag from her cigarette Her gravelly voice cut through the tense silence like a knife. “What in the heavens happened to you?” Her eyes narrowing as they assessed the bruises that adorned my face like a grotesque mask.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, acutely aware of the judgment that seemed to emanate from her every word. The memories of the horrific night flashed before my eyes – the yelling, the shoving, the pain. I clenched my fists, trying to push back the rising tide of emotions threatening to engulf me.

Louella's callous words echoed in my mind as well, her nonchalant attitude towards my suffering sending a chill down my spine. "It's the name of the game, dear. Just make him happier next time," she had said, as if my pain was a mere inconvenience to be brushed aside.

The image of the newsstand attendant’s horrified expression haunted me, his eyes widening in shock as they took in the extent of my injuries. I had muttered a barely audible thank you, my gaze fixed on the ground as I hurried away, desperate to escape the prying eyes of strangers.

And now, facing Aunt Beatrice's mocking laughter, I felt the last shreds of my composure slip away. The weight of her words – dripping with disdain and superiority – crashed down on me like a ton of bricks.

"Here's the money from tonight," I said, tossing the notes onto the table in a messy wad. They fluttered down haphazardly, some landing askew. "I think there's close to 30 there or should be at least."

She reached out to straighten the crumpled bills, her brow furrowing as she quickly counted them. “Looks like you’re four pounds short, sweet child.” The use of adoring nicknames not masking the shortness of her tone. “Four pounds short and the bank wants to collect today – are you trying to make me lose my precious home?”

Glancing between her and the money on the table, confusion was etched on my face as I knew there was enough when I counted this morning. "That can't be –" My voice wavered, uncertainty creeping in. "I could've sworn there was 30 there this morning."

Beatrice's head lulled to the side, her dismissive tone cutting through the tension. "You were never the best at counting money, sweetheart," she quipped, a puff of smoke from her cigarette swirling lazily in the air before being exhaled right in my face. The sharp scent momentarily overwhelming my senses.

"I think it's best you get out there and get the money – wouldn't want you to be back on the streets again," she added, her words carrying a hint of warning.

She slowly pushed herself up from the table, the notes disappearing into the depths of her worn nightgown. Her dirty housecoat dragged along the floor as she shuffled towards her rotting chair, the frayed fabric whispering against the dusty floorboards. I stood dumbfounded, my mind racing as I tried to piece together where the cash could have disappeared to.

"Best get going, darling Vanessa," her raspy voice reverberated off the newspaper-covered walls, "Make sure to powder up before you leave – don't need those soldiers looking at you like a punching bag."

My shoulders slumped in defeat as I started walking towards the small room that held all my earthly possessions. Everything I could salvage from the rubble of my London home was now crammed into a space resembling a broom closet. The dresses I had collected through the years hung in a row, most too conservative for the line of work I found myself in.

Among the clothes were photos of my childhood – snapshots of my mother and father, frozen in time, their smiles forever preserved. In those images, there was no evidence of the sadness and despair that would later come to define my life. The young girl in the photographs had no inkling that in just a few short years, her father would be gone, leaving her at the mercy of an ungrateful aunt who would exploit her for the sake of paying the house notes.

“Chop chop, Vanessa – time's not stopping," Beatrice's voice called out. I rolled my eyes at her words, a mix of irritation and resignation washing over me as I reluctantly acknowledged the urgency of the situation.

As I made my way over to the vanity, my heart sank into my stomach at the sight that greeted me. The reflection in the mirror revealed the extent of the damage inflicted by the German's hand. My once carefully painted lips were now split at the top, a deep purple bruise spreading under my left eye. His fingerprints were scattered like dark constellations across my skin, leaving behind dancing indentations that served as a painful reminder of his violent touch. The marks on my neck and upper chest bore witness to the brutality of his actions, his decaying teeth leaving behind their mark.

With trembling hands, I reached for the makeup on the vanity, determined to conceal the physical reminders of the night's brutality. As I applied layer upon layer of foundation and concealer, I pushed the events in the back of my mine, determined to put on the facade that everything is fine and get the money that Aunt Beatrice needed. I readjusted the dress that I had worn through the night – giving myself a small smile in the mirror – the bruises faintly showing through the mask.

My heels clicked against the wooden floor with each step I took back to the main room. Beatrice's gaze trailed down my body as she took in my appearance, her eyes assessing and judging. "It's a real shame," she spoke, her voice cutting through the air as her eyes met mine.

"Pardon?" I replied, a sense of unease creeping into my voice at the ominous tone of her words.

A sickening smirk twisted on her wrinkled face as she continued, her words like venom dripping from her lips. "It's a real shame that American soldier never came back to fetch you." Her words landed like a heavy blow, my heart sinking at the cruel reminder of a past hope that had long since faded. "He was quite a looker – could've gotten you out of this hellhole and away from the hands of all those men," she continued, her tone laced with a bitter edge. As she lit another cigarette, the smoke curling lazily around her, her words hung heavy in the air. “Guess you’ll just have to be another whore on the street who has nothing to show for her life.”

My eyes moved towards the ceiling as I fought back the tears that pricked against my lower lids. "You're gonna ruin all that work if you start crying," her voice gruff and devoid of any trace of empathy. "These men aren't gonna pay for ya if they see those bruises,” The harsh reality of her words cut through me like a knife, leaving a trail of raw emotions in its wake.

"Wouldn't that be a shame," I sarcastically chuckled, the bitterness of my words hanging in the air like a heavy fog. The tension in the room crackled with unspoken resentment and suppressed fury. "I guess no money means no house, right?"

Her eyes shot daggers at me, a silent promise of retribution simmering beneath the surface. "Guess you'll have to join me on the streets, Auntie Beatrice," I continued, my tone cutting and cold. The same sickening smile that she'd give me mirrored on my face, a twisted reflection of the familial bond that had long since fractured beyond repair. "Get those hoses washed and ready,"

This time she chose to stay silent, her rigid posture and clenched jaw betraying the storm of emotions brewing beneath the surface. I could sense the turmoil festering inside of her, the knowledge that kicking me out of the house would sever her only source of income. There was no way she would go and find a job. No one was gonna hire a crippled old woman, especially with a war raging on like it was.

"Don't come back without my money," she finally spoke, her voice cold and distant. I rolled my eyes in response, a gesture of defiance and resignation mingled into one. I stormed out of the house, the door slamming shut behind me with a finality that echoed in the empty hallway…

I grimaced as he pulled out of me – his sweaty body collapsing off to the side as his large stomach rose and fell in a fast pace. The whiskey that I had consumed earlier now wearing off, the image of the man lying next to me making me groan internally – the way of his touch making my stomach churn. “Goddamn girl –“ His American accent thick. “Where’d you learn to fuck like that?”

I stayed silent, trying to play off like I was sleeping. The rustling of his head turning on the pillow as he looked over at me, making my heartbeat faster, the prayer that he would just leave repeating in my brain. The feeling of the thin sheet being pulled away from my body caused a shiver to run down my spine as his fingers lightly danced across my breast.

 “My oh my –“His smoker laced voice whispered as his mouth closed over my nipple – his teeth tugging on the sensitive skin causing a moan to slip past my lips. "I knew that would wake you up," he chuckled, his rotting teeth revealed a mischievous smile before finding the bud again.

I kept my hands pressed tightly against my side as his callused hands, weathered by countless months of war, pulled me closer to his body. The lingering scent of the day's heat clung to his skin, the smell causing my stomach to roll with nausea. Just as his hands reached between us, a sudden commotion outside the room shattered the moment. The sharp sound of hurried footsteps echoing on the wooden floors jolted him back to reality, breaking the seal that he had on me. His body moved to a sitting position, muscles tensing as his gaze fixated on the wooden door The commotion outside persisted, casting a shadow of unease over the room.

Feeling uneasy, I too rose slowly from the bed, hastily pulling the sheet tightly around me Thoughts raced through my mind, fueled by fear and the chilling rumors that circulated through the town. Whispers of German soldiers raiding taverns, killing the men and taking the women prisoners.

“I'm getting the hell out of here," the man muttered urgently, his movements swift as he practically threw himself to the floor in a rush to gather his clothes and make his escape.

As he frantically gathered his belongings, my concern shifted to a more practical matter. "What about my money?" I blurted out, stumbling out of the bed with the sheet trailing behind me like a makeshift gown. Determined not to be left empty-handed after our transaction, I followed him around the room, my finger jabbing into his shoulder to emphasize my point. "This wasn't free, mister."

His stocky body pushed past me, a look of fear etched on his face, his eyes darting around the dimly lit room. As he reached for his jacket hanging on the back of the chair, I saw my opportunity to grab what I came for – the money that was rightfully mine. After everything I had been through with this man, the betrayals, the lies, the deception, I wasn't about to leave empty-handed.

With determination fueling my actions, I lunged forward and seized the other end of his jacket, my hands frantically searching the pockets, desperate to find any trace of cash. The fabric crumpled beneath my fingers as I dug deeper, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Get your fucking hands off my jacket, slag!” His voice boomed through the room, a mixture of rage and panic, as his grip tightened on my arms, his nails digging into my skin.

Pain shot through me, but I refused to let go, driven by a mix of anger and desperation. The struggle escalated, our bodies twisting and turning in a chaotic dance of conflict. With a sudden burst of strength, he pushed me to the ground, the impact reverberating through my bones. Gasping for breath, I watched as he made a hasty escape, his heavy footsteps fading into the distance.

I ran out of the room, the adrenaline pumping through my veins, my heart racing with a mix of exhilaration and apprehension. The curious gazes of onlookers met mine as I scanned the hallway, searching for any sign of the man who had just slipped away from my grasp.

As I stood there, trying to catch my breath, Louella appeared at my side, her presence always bringing me a sense of dread.

"Well, at least there's some good news in all of this," Louella remarked casually, her tone tinged with a hint of mischief.

I turned to face her, my eyes meeting hers in a moment of silent communication. "And what might that be?" I inquired, my voice hinting with skepticism.

With a nonchalant gesture, Louella reached into the pocket of her nightgown, producing several crumpled notes. I watched intently as she smoothed them out and began to count, the sound of rustling paper filling the tense silence between us. Finally, she held up four bills, neatly arranged between her fingers.

"Germany has surrendered," Louella announced matter-of-factly, her words carrying a weight of significance that resonated in the air. "And there's a gentleman asking specifically for you down in the lobby."

She slipped the bills into the top of the sheet, patting the area lightly before she started walking away. The crisp sound of the bills sliding into place seemed oddly loud in the hushed room. I watched as she started walking away – her signature cane leading the way.

“Oh –” Her voice was soft yet carried a hint of playful suggestion. She paused, slowly turning to face me once more. “I would suggest leaving the sheet on – I don’t think you’ll be wearing it for very long.”

With a coy smile, she sauntered out of the room, my mind racing with thoughts of who could be waiting and her suggestion of keeping my body covered only in the thin, white sheet. Usually, Loella wanted her girls dressed to the nines – giving the man something to fantasize about before they seen what we were hiding underneath.

I snatched the money out of the cloth, feeling a rush of adrenaline as I walked back towards the bedroom. The crisp notes rustled as I stuffed them deep into my purse. Taking a deep breath, I was somewhat relieved that I had gotten the money for Beatrice. The weight lifting from my bare shoulders as I took a seat at the vanity. Checking out my tousled appearance, I did my short routine, giving my face a quick powder and running my fingers through my tangled hair. I needed to compose myself, to present an air of confidence in myself.

Once satisfied with my appearance, I took a deep breath and gathered the bottom of the sheet, preparing to descend to the bottom floor where the mystery man awaited. Each timid step down the staircase seemed to echo in the hushed space, heightening my sense of anticipation. The soft fabric of the sheet whispered against my skin, a reminder of my daring choice to leave behind the trappings of modesty. As I reached the lobby, a rush of emotions washed over me – excitement, curiosity, a touch of fear.

As I entered the room, the crackling fire cast a warm and inviting glow, despite the balmy weather outside. The man, with his back turned towards me, seemed completely engrossed in the dancing flames. His worn brown leather jacket, weathered by time and use, exuded a sense of comfort and familiarity.

I couldn't help but notice the way his short brown hair fell against the nape of his neck. A ruggedness exuding from his stance. His broad shoulders, tense with an unseen burden, hinted at a strength that belied his gentle demeanor. The dark slacks he wore hugged his hips perfectly, emphasizing his sturdy frame.

My bare feet made no sound as they padded softly against the floor, bringing me just inches away from the man. With a silent resolve, I took a breath and extended my hand towards him, the cool leather of his jacket meeting the warmth of my palm. His muscle tenses under my touch, my body backing away slightly as he began to turn to face me.

John Egan

My heart nearly shattered into hundreds of pieces as the face that invaded my dreams nightly stared back at me – the same blue eyes that caused me to melt in the back of that bar all those years ago now stared back at me. Memories flooded my mind like a relentless tide, carrying me back to that fateful night when our paths first crossed. The fear that he had died on the frontlines haunted me daily as I would picture us together. His promise to come back for me and take me away from this world was something I held onto – praying to the Lord above that he would be the one to fulfill that promise.

Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into years, and still, there was no sign of him. The war raged on, claiming the lives of so many brave souls, and I was left to wonder if he had become just another casualty of the brutal conflict. But deep down, a flicker of hope remained, a tiny flame that refused to be extinguished.

 His callused thumb reached up, wiping away the tears that had fallen. His towering figure loomed over me, his eyes filled with a mix of weariness and determination.

"I told ya I'd come back for ya,"

[voidthewanderer]

OC Speech Mannerisms

Thank you to both @bokatan and @typosandtea for the tag! Throwing this under a cut since I wanna do it for Crow, Arsen, and Rips; so it's pretty long! No Pressure tags: @woodland-roaming @romaniwasteland @mashedpaintatoes @redvelvetrevolver @callmewisteria and anybody else who'd like to do this!

ARSENIC

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep (his voice claim is Adam Driver, so he's kinda that in between range, y'know?)

ACCENT: Yes / No

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed* (relaxed only comes in if he gets used to you and enjoys your company)

HABITS: head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance (the maintains eye contact is a dominance thing; he knows his appearance is intimidating and will use it to his advantage)

COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⬤⬤⬤〇〇

EMOTION: ⬤⬤〇〇〇 (you have to catch him drunk or be spying on him around his closest friends/partner to see emotions from him)

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⬤〇〇〇〇

PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⬤⬤⬤〇〇

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⬤〇〇〇〇

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never

DOES YOUR CHARACTER'S INTENDED POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never. (definitely more on the rare side; he's not a conversationalist)

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE 'WHOM' IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps. (with a very hard emphasis on the word)

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that's everything / say that's everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they're done here / remain quiet / they don't. (it depends on what the conversation's about and who it's with)

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower. (assuming a non-wasteland environment; it doesn't matter that he ran multiple higher-class restaraunts before the war; his mannerisms and the fact that he swears frequently is seen as lower class)

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn't.

CROW

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep (they fight to keep their voice on the 'deeper' side, it's somewhat obvious that they're trying to deepen a higher voice)

ACCENT: Yes / No

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed (they're frequently curled into themself, trying to make themself smaller than they are)

HABITS: head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⬤⬤⬤⬤〇

EMOTION: ⬤⬤⬤⬤〇

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⬤⬤⬤〇〇

PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⬤⬤〇〇〇

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⬤⬤〇〇〇

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never

DOES YOUR CHARACTER'S INTENDED POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE 'WHOM' IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that's everything / say that's everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they're done here / remain quiet / they don't.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower. (they're just shy, nothing about how they speak would suggest anything other than middle)

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn't.

RIPPER

NO. OF SPOKEN LANGUAGES: 1 / 2 / 3 (English is first, Italian second, can hold a conversation in Spanish thanks to Taro)

TONE OF VOICE: high / average / deep

ACCENT: Yes / No

DEMEANOR: confident / shy / approachable / hostile / other

POSTURE: slumped / straight / stiff / relaxed

HABITS: head tilting / swaying / fidgeting / stuttering / gesturing / arm crossing / strokes chin / er, um, or other interjections / plays with hair or clothing / hands at hips / inconsistent eye contact / maintains eye contact / frequent pausing / stands close / stands at a distance

COMPLEXITY

VOCABULARY: ⬤⬤⬤〇〇

EMOTION: ⬤⬤⬤⬤〇

SENTENCE STRUCTURE: ⬤⬤⬤〇〇

PROFANITY

FREQUENCY: ⬤⬤⬤〇〇

CREATIVITY (in regards to profanity): ⬤〇〇〇〇

BOLD ALL THAT APPLY: arse. ass. asshole. bastard. bitch. bloody. bugger. bollocks. chicken shit. crap. cunt. dick. frick. fuck. horseshit. motherfucker. piss. prick. screw. shit. shitass. son of a bitch. twat. wanker. pussy.

IMPORTANT QUESTIONS

DO PEOPLE HAVE A HARD TIME HEARING OR UNDERSTANDING YOUR CHARACTER? - almost always / frequently / rarely / never (mostly when he gets extremely excited over something)

DOES YOUR CHARACTER'S INTENDED POINT COME ACROSS EASILY WHEN THEY SPEAK? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never. (he's very poignant in what he says, but never in a mean or rude way; he just would rather be direct than make people guess)

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER INITIATE CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / never.

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER BE THE ONE TO END CONVERSATIONS? - almost always / frequently / sometimes / rarely / never. (be prepared for him to talk your ear off)

WOULD YOUR CHARACTER USE 'WHOM' IN A SENTENCE? - yes / no / only ironically

YOUR CHARACTER WANTS TO MAKE A COUNTERPOINT. WHAT WORD DO THEY USE? - but / though / although / however / perhaps / mayhaps

HOW DOES YOUR CHARACTER END CONVERSATIONS? - walk away / ask if that's everything / say that's everything / give a proper goodbye / tell their company they're done here / remain quiet / they don't.

WHAT SOCIAL CLASS WOULD OTHERS ASSUME YOUR CHARACTER BELONGS TO, HEARING THEM SPEAK? - upper / middle / lower.

IN WHAT WAYS DOES THE WAY YOUR CHARACTER SPEAK STAND OUT TO OTHERS? - accent / vocabulary / tone / level / politeness / brusqueness / it doesn't.

[one-idea]

In honor of Valentine’s Day let’s talk about how our favs are celebrating.

Robin and Franky and spending a quiet day together. Robin is reading while Franky is working, but they are in each others space. Robin is seated near his work or if possible/comfortable resting against him (siting in his shoulder, leaning against him ect) occasionally while Franky is working he will ask Robin for a hand and several will sprout up and help him work. It’s peaceful. And they are just enjoying each other’s presence.

Chopper joins them at some point to read with Robin. Just enjoying the quiet.

Nami and Vivi are sending love letters to each other. Nami has attached a few maps she’s drawn so Vivi can see where they have been. Vivi has sent over Nami’s favorite thing (Berris) as well as an expensive necklace. (She knows her girlfriend’s tastes) they are the only couple who consistently remember and celebrate the holiday.

Usopp has written a letter to Kaya detailing to her his great adventure. He’s been meaning to send a letter recently. And if it just so happens to be on Valentine’s Day that is no one’s business but his own! (Nami told him her plans for Vivi and he recognizes a good idea when he hears one) Kaya loves it and wishes she had a secure way to send him letters back.

Zoro and luffy don’t celebrate. They aren’t the sort of people who need a special day to show their affection. They show their loyalty and devotion to one another daily. Why plan for a special day that holds no significance to either of them. Zoro trains like normal.

Luffy however has plans, while he might think it’s silly to set aside a special day just for romance, he will absolutely take any excuse to love on his Namaka. He’s running around the ship make sure he spends time with each of his Namaka. He plays games with Chopper and Usopp. He checks in and sits with Robin and Franky for a while. Franky tells him about the new invention he’s working on, Robin tells him about her new book. And while Luffy isn’t the best a focusing he tries his hardest, it is a ‘special day’ to celebrate his special people. He finds his way to Nami and sits with her as she finishes her next letter to Vivi (the valentines letter was sent days ago to arrive on time) he asks her to tell Vivi hi for him. He slips into the kitchen and sits with Sanji while he cooks (Sanji might slip his captain some snacks it is a ‘special day’ after all) he find Brook and sings some sea shanties with him. He spends some time sitting with Jimbei just enjoying each others company. Eventually he makes his way up to the crows nest with Zoro and spends the rest of the day with his first mate, helping him train or distracting him from training.

Sanji has a love hate relationship with the day. He loves the opportunity to show his devotion to his crewmates especially the beautiful ladies on the crew (and his captain) but he is also reminded that he is alone. He’s happy for his friends but also longs for the day he can have that happiness as well. It helps that Luffy spends some time with him in the kitchen, it’s hard to feel alone when your sunshine captain is sitting with you. Even harder when a delivery arrives from the Baratie with fresh ingredients and a note from the old geezer talk about special valentines meal (Zeff just wants his son to know he loves him and food has always been the way they communicated) Sanji knows one day he’ll find someone. For know he focus on his loved ones, make special heart themed meals all day and a special feast for that evening.

Brook walks the ship playing love songs on his violin. He finds his way to where Franky and Robin as relaxing, moving his way outside of Nami’s door to play for her as she writes, to the kitchen for Sanji to listen while he cooks. And finally he finds his way to the crows nest where captain and first mate have hidden away. After dinner he plays all night allowing his Namaka to dance and sing and remind him he isn’t alone any more.

In another part of the ocean

Mihawk has made his way to Shanks once again. He’s looking for a duel or so he claims. But Ben knows as he watch’s the two head off that he won’t be seeing his captain for a while, and that it’s been to long since Mihawk had come around. Maybe this time the captain will convince him to stay, or at least this time Mihawk won’t stay away as long.

(Buggy is currently wondering where his swordsman has gone. Crocodile his torn between denying that he and Mihawk actually work for the clown, and knowing that if he tells the clown where Mihawk went he will have a front row seat to the funniest melt down of all time)

On yet another boat.

Masked Deuce knows that Ace has no clue what day it is. His ex-captain is busy with plenty of duties as second commander, but that doesn’t stop Deuce from planning something small. He can’t go too big. Ace will feel bad if Deuce goes all out only for him to forget. But he wants to do something because Ace deserves to be loved.

So he gets some help from Thatch to make Ace’s favorite. With a few stings pulled and favors promised (and the Whitebeards being huge softies) Ace gets relieved of his evening duties. Deuce surprises him with a picnic under the stars. The two take the time to remince on their time together. Deuce is so grateful he met Ace, he changed his life. Ace is so grateful he has Deuce, no one besides his brothers loves him as much as his ex-first mate.

[farm-witches-fic-recs]

This Friday we are happy to bring you more of the family, friends, and loved ones around our favorite Schittizens. Please enjoy these community recs and give the authors some love!

===========

Beautiful People Everywhere (MoreHuman) “Clint and David are out on an errand when they stumble into an awkward shared moment. It's less than 700 words, but this fic still somehow fits in great details, terrific imagery, lovely introspection, a bit of bonding, and some classic Brewer appreciation.”

The Best Is Yet to Come ( @Amanita_Fierce, B13_MaybeThisTime, doingthemost (@sarahlevys), Januarium, @Lisamc21, Little_Black_Bow, @petrodobreva, schittpodding ( @schittposting), @ships_to_sail, @sunlightsymphony, @unfolded73, yourbuttervoicedbeau ( @kiwiana-writes)) “The Roses come together to throw Johnny an epic retirement party, but naturally, there are hiccups.  I appreciate that there's text to go with the podfic.”

little bebé crow (otherpeopleareallthereis) “Enjoyed seeing David and Patrick being supportive uncles to a nonbinary OC.”

Love Without End, Amen ( @Chelle68) “Johnny and Clint talk about fatherhood and the challenges they've faced. The stories within the story are so heartwarming. It's one of my go-to holiday reads!”

Maison Valentino (bigficenergy/ @fraudulentzodiac ) “The dynamic between David and Alexis here. Even though they're pre-canon, they're very them in a way that's consistent with what we know of their past lives, and we get to see Alexis support David.”

Sometimes, home is a person (houdini74/ @mostlyinthemorning) “This is the ultimate classic for me as far as families go. The Brewers moving to Schitt’s Creek and the adjustments that Patrick has to go through, it’s the perfect story with everyone you love in it.” we'll get together then, dad (doingthemost/ @sarahlevys) “This fic, where Alexis comes out to Johnny, is a beautiful exploration of their dynamic.”

[We apologize for the weird tagging today, tumblr was being uncooperative.]

[rizzoliandislesecretsanta]

DETECTIVES

Jane Rizzoli • Vince Korsak • Barry Frost • Frankie Rizzoli Jr. • Sean Cavanaugh • Nina Holiday • Riley Cooper • Darren Crowe • Rafael Martinez

FORENSICS

Maura Isles • Susie Chang • Kent Drake • T. Pike

FAMILIES

Angela Rizzoli • Frank Rizzoli Sr. • Tommy Rizzoli • TJ Rizzoli

Constance Isles • Arthur Isles

Hope Martin • Cailin Martin

Colin Doyle

ANTAGONISTS

Charles Hoyt • Warren Hoyt • Patrick Doyle • Dominick Bianchi • Alice Sands • Dennis Rockmond

F.B.I.

Gabriel Dean • Cameron Davies

MISCELLANEOUS

Casey Jones • Catherine Cordell • Stanley • Ian Faulkner • Giovanni Gilberti • Jack Armstrong • Rondo • Tasha Williams • Kiki • OC

PAIRINGS

(Friendship • Romantic)

Jane Rizzoli/Maura Isles • Jane Rizzoli/Casey Jones • Jane Rizzoli/Gabriel Dean • Jane Rizzoli/Rafael Martinez • Jane Rizzoli/Barry Frost

Maura Isles/Ian Faulkner • Maura Isles/Kent Drake • Maura Isles/Tommy Rizzoli • Maura Isles/Frankie Rizzoli Jr. • Maura Isles/Barry Frost • Maura Isles/Jack Armstrong

Barry Frost/Frankie Rizzoli Jr. • Barry Frost/Vince Korsak

Vince Korsak/Kiki • Vince Korsak/Jane Rizzoli

Frankie Rizzoli Jr./Nina Holiday

Angela Rizzoli/Sean Cavanaugh

PLACES

Precinct • Homicide Squad Room • BRIC • Ballistics Shooting Range • Autopsy Room • Labs • Maura's office • Division One Café

Jane's condo • Maura's house • Maura's guest house • Jane's house (season 6/7) • Frankie's appartment • Korsak's house • The Dirty Robber

Hospital • Other places

TROPES

Chosen One • Dark Lord • Dystopian Society • Enemies to Lovers • Fake Relationship • Forbidden Love Romance • Friends to Lovers • Haunted House • Hero's Journey • Love At First Sight • Love Triangles • Magic Mentor • Mean Girl • Prophecy Foretold • One Bed • Queer Relationships • Race Against Time • Soulmates

GENRES

Adventure • Angst • Bromance • Crime • Drama • General • Family • Fantasy • Friendship • Horror • Humour • Hurt/Comfort • Mystery • Poetry • Romance • Sci-Fi • Supernatural • Suspense • Thriller • Tragedy • Whump

VERSES

Alternative Universe • Books • TV Show

This is a non-exhaustive list that can be completed over time.

[lacm-ac]

✧Comics✧

Atreus and Angrboda (does she like me)

Angrboda and Thrud bffs

Atreus and Thrud anti Heimdall fan club

The Talk

Retired Kratos

Atreus’ first prom! (The tie incidence)

Atreus with a gun

Kratos wolf dad

Kratos juicy ass

Fuuuuuuuuuuck

Odins little secret (ft Tyr and Freya)

Sus Odin

The Midnight Polisher

Girls night!

Anon hug (Thor)

High Atreus (ft. High and scared Freyr)

Kratos Malewife (ft. Faye with big fish)

I can fix him (Faye and Kratos)

Here comes the booyy (Angrboda, Atreus and Fenrir animatic)

Odin flying (ft. Huginn and Muninn)

Happy Holidays! (Kratos, Mimir, Freya, Atreus)

Angrboda and Thrúd (talking about Atreus)

How could you (ft. The squad teaching the kids how a baby is made)

Fish fear me, men fear me. (Faye)

The crow problem (ft. Mimir as a scarecrow)

Suitr

Mjölnir

Valentines day card!

Meowtreus

Welcome to Valhalla

✧Fan art✧

Atreusverse (collab)

Faye and Kratos

Young Faye

Faye and friends

Older Atreus

Atreus meme

Strawberry dress (Angrboda and Thrud)

Freya in a dress

Sif in a dress

Lunda in a dress

Gow girls in dress

Sif and Thor

Lunda

A GoW OC (not my design)

Heimdall

Sif and Freya

Sif and Freya pt. 2

✧ The Pickpocket Fan-Art✧

Chapter 17

Chapter 17/18

Chapter 19

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 28

Chapter 28 pt.2

Chapter 30

✧ Gow OC✧

Venera

Vera going to Asgard

Baldur and Vera

[artsygremlin291]

i demand more HCs for Olly please and thank you

(also I have an origami OC that would totally adopt your Olly, her name is Queen Harmonia)

OH DO I HAVE SOME MORE OLLY HEADCANONS FOR YOU, MY GOOD FRIEND.

King Olly Headcanons Part 2!! {feat. Olivia, Mario, and Peach} (part 1 here)

Olly goes ALL OUT for events. Parties, Festivals, Birthdays, Holidays, EVERYTHING. Olivia always has a blast when her brother takes the helm of party-planning.

Though Origami will always be his favorite magical artform, he's looked into painting and sticker-making too. Olivia happily introduced him to Huey and Kersti when she discovered his curiosity!

Too many damn opinions and has a tendancy to voice them at the wrong times, Peach has helped him contain himself and his anger-fueled words.

If Olly considers someone a friend or close companion, he'll hand them an Origami Heart. Olivia usually says something like "Oh! My brother gave you that? He only does that if he REALLY likes somebody.. you're really lucky! I'm really glad my brother is making friends."

If Olly is there, his beloved pet Stapler is too. He carries treats for Stapler all the time!

If he gets an idea, he needs to carry it out or else his brain won't let him sleep, even if he was dead tired moments before! This has led to MANY late night art projects.

Flat out REFUSES to ask for help, it makes him feel incompetent and vulnerable. He only caves in once whatever's at hand proves he can't do it by himself.

Super fast learner, Olly can pick up a task, be given instructions, and quickly do whatever it is.

He really enjoys the nighttime, it's quiet and peaceful, which is exactly what he needs to clear his mind.

Olly enjoys eating small foods, or meals that come in small portions. He often snacks on cookies or tiny pastries.

He considers the moon and stars friends of his, and talks to them when he's alone.. He was EXTREMELY freaked out when Mario told him about Lumas. "wdym there's stars that are actually alive- this is a joke right??" "wait until I tell you about the space goddess that comes down here to play tennis and go-kart with us"

Really enjoys shiny things, like crystals. People often assume he knows a lot of crystaly spiritual stuff, nope, he just has crow brain.

This man has an incredibly dark sense of humor. He just CACKLES like the villainous dork he is.

betcha didnt expect another wall of text!

[yuushrimp]

[OC LORE] Illustration ~~

What a dumb idea for the Grand General of the Briar Valley to try to educate two dragons together, even if the royal one was older and easier to tame, the other one was too catastrophic. A cold night, the younger caused an enormous disaster in a village, freezing every being and every building. After some attempts from the Briar Valley, a crow came with a strange egg and stopped the disaster. The dragon was no more, only a little girl was in the arms of the crow. A deal was made with the general on the back of the girl.

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

Merry Christmas everyone ! hope you'll have great holidays :D

Tell me if you like Emma's lore ~