#Yes yes Morri did

[jdexhusband]

@ryssbelle following up on this idea 😏

[paris-in-space]

Today I offer sketches of the Suitor Squad™️ because I’m not entirely sure when I’m going to draw them properly but really wanted to do something.

[ndostairlyrium]

I had the wonderful pleasure of working on this commission for @melisusthewee of her gorgeous Babies™, Quinn and Horatio ✨⚔ such a gorgeous experience!!

-

Commissions Price List & TOS

[equinoxartz]

More WTDW ponies!!

The humans are next :)

[purple--queen]

i love the moment the murderer gets revealed & it is someone i wasn't expecting because i forgot him

[offbrandlibrarian]

My boy Bram Stoker really said yes, you actually can defeat evil with the power of friendship and a cowboy and you know, I appreciate him for that.

[personinthepalace]

might be a bit weird ask. but. fully knowing it’s not my business and respecting these two people. do you know if shields and ellie are dating

Yes, Ellie and Shields are currently dating. I believe they got together during Bank Robbery

[dodecademons]

Here’s a video description of Morri from the stream

With a little surprise from me at the end

[doctors-star]

i am but a jingling fool; i have capered too close to the sun

[unproduciblesmackdown]

from aaron clark burstein / aaroncburstein

yeah this weekend was BANANAS spending the weekend with Iconis and Family was easily the best bookend to 2024 I could’ve asked for!! sharing the stage with some of the most talented and hysterical folks on the planet was so affirming and wholesome and flat-out *fun* I love this city!! I love theatre!! I LOVE CHRISTMAAAAAAAAAS

[wonderjanga]

Little British Boy

The Batsons were both British people who immigrated to America. As a result of this when Mary and Billy were born, they gained British accents causing them to sound like little Victorian children.

Store Owner: “Thanks for the help, young man.” *hands him five dollars*

Billy: “Thank you sir!”

Store Owner: “No problem-” *has to do a double take at that accent* “A Brit?”

Billy: “No sir. But my parents were. I was raised in America.”

Yeah… It confused some people at first, but after a while of the little British kid coming around and doing odd jobs for money, most store owners got used to it. Then came the time Billy wanted a stable job a.k.a. being the Whiz kid.

Mr. Morris: “So you want to be a radio host?”

Billy: “Yes, sir. I need the money.”

Mr. Morris: “Wow… It’s been a long while since I’ve heard a British accent.”

Billy: “Ah, sorry.” *tries to make himself sound more American, but it comes all across as more transatlantic* “Is that better?”

Mr. Morris: *heard the transatlantic accent and was immediately interested* “Very. Why don’t we have you do a trial run and then we’ll go from there?”

Billy: “I’d really appreciate that, sir.” *thinks he thinks his American accent is good, but doesn’t realize he’s doing a perfect transatlantic*

The Britishness also bled into his Captain Marvel form. Though like with Billy, he tried to sound more American and ended up coming across as more transatlantic. People in the 60s loved it, and when the time bubble popped surprisingly people from the 2000s loved it too. And because in this AU the bubble popped in the 2000s, this was when most heroes were first starting out. He ends up meeting a young Batman. Billy had originally gone to Gotham because they wanted to see if the city was still cursed to heck and sure enough it was.

Batman: “You sound just like the old Gray Ghost movies…”

Marvel: “What was that?”

Batman: “Nothing.”

Somehow, about a couple years after this, they ended up developing a friendship. Marvel was even allowed down in the Batcave on the condition he doesn’t touch anything. (Bruce literally saw the man touch something with his pinky and it short fused. He is not taking any risks until he is sure the Batcomputer can handle enough volts of electricity to take out a power plant.) One of these days while Bruce was working, and Marvel was in the cave pacing and chattering incessantly to Bruce about something random, Alfred came down. The butler distracted the Captain and after a bit, all Bruce could hear was unintelligible words.

At first, Bruce just assumed it was him zoning out of the conversation and thought nothing of it, but then Robin tiptoed over:

Robin!Dick: *pokes Bruce to bring him back to reality* “What are they saying…?” *points to Alfred and Marvel*

Alfred and Marvel: *speaking in Welsh*

Batman: “I… don’t know.”

Robin!Dick and Batman: *stares*

Ah… How could he have forgotten? Alfred’s Welsh. Though, the butler now speaks in a different English accent, likely due to his time as a stage actor. Bruce remembered the man telling him that long ago when he was still a boy. How… unprepared of Bruce. He should’ve learned Welsh by now. He’s a little embarrassed he hasn’t. As for Marvel, Bruce was a little upset he didn’t know the man was from England, let alone the same place as Agent A. But then where did the transatlantic-ness come from?

Robin!Dick: “I still can’t tell what they’re saying…”

Marvel and Alfred: *switched back to English at this point, but the accents are still strong*

So yes, Billy has three accents folks. His mother Marilyn was Welsh so he knows how to mimic the accent and speak the language because I say so. His father had a classic London accent which Billy defaults to most of the time. So, Billy’s double British, or just British and Welsh is you want to separate the two. Then there’s the fail-to-try-to-sound-more-American-accent or accidental transatlantic accent.

[aninventoryofthepossible]

Time to check in at the No-Tell Motel

My new single-player TTRPG, No-Tell Motel, is now available! Come on over and grab a PDF, or throw in $5 more to pre-order your physical copy.

In No-Tell Motel, you play the overnight clerk at a sleazy motel. One of your guests murders another one, and no one much seems to care who did it or why. No one but you, that is.

Playing the game only requires a standard deck of playing cards and a six-sided die. You use the face cards to identify your motel's regular guests (yes, the book comes ready with 16), and the numbers cards to randomly generate things that happen between them.

And unlike most build-as-you-go mystery games, you can make your best guess and still get it very, very wrong.

The nightly spread of the game looks a bit like a hand of Solitaire, and that's on purpose. I wanted playing the game to feel a little bit like something you'd do to pass the time in the small hours of the morning.

Here's how it works.

The rules generate different murder victims and methods, a highly randomized yet still coherent matrix of guest gossip, actions and conflict, and most importantly: a way to find out if your accusation was correct, and what the consequences are for pointing the finger.

If you like pulp crime, The Conversation, or Errol Morris's Tabloid, you should check out No-Tell Motel.

[dresshistorynerd]

The Morrisian case against fast fashion

Today I discovered that H&M made a William Morris collection some years ago. The heath death of the universe can't come quickly enough. We can stop now. Satire is dead and we killed her.

It's not just the whole concept of H&M using William Morris' designs for their fast fashion which is insanity inducing, but also the critical response it garnered. Like sure, people did realize this is insane and there was a lot of think pieces about it at the time, but I read several of them and they all seem to still miss the point in spectacular way.

The basic premise of these think pieces go along the lines of: "Would William Morris spin in his grave with a speed of light because of the H&M collection of his designs? A difficult question indeed. William Morris was a complicated man. He wanted art to be affordable to everyone. Isn't H&M affordable? That kinda fits. Though probably he would have some concerns about H&M's practices."

On the surface - yes - but like in reality - fuck no. There's no nuance in this particular issue. He talked about many times what he though of the H&Ms of his time, the retailers selling poor quality industrially produced "fashionable" bullshit. We know exactly what he would have thought of H&M. Here's couple of quotes from his 1884 lecture "Art and Socialism", which makes it very clear.

"It would be an instructive day's work for any one of us who is strong enough to walk through two or three of the principal streets of London on a week-day, and take accurate note of everything in the shop windows which is embarrassing or superfluous to the daily life of a serious man. Nay, the most of these things no one, serious or unserious, wants at all; only a foolish habit makes even the lightest-minded of us suppose that he wants them, and to many people even of those who buy them they are obvious encumbrances to real work, thought and pleasure. But I beg you to think of the enormous mass of men who are occupied with this miserable trumpery, from the engineers who have had to make the machines for making them, down to the hapless clerks who sit day-long year after year in the horrible dens wherein the wholesale exchange of them is transacted, and the shopmen, who not daring to call their souls their own, retail them amidst numberless insults which they must not resent, to the idle public which doesn't want them but buys them to be bored by them and sick to death of them."

He is describing the birth of consumerism, which was taking form during his lifetime in the late Victorian Era, which fast fashion is the extreme logical conclusion of, and he fucking hated it. He specifically railed against endless consumerist products, which H&M is the perfect representation of. It was definitely not the art and beauty he believed everyone required and deserved. He makes the distinction often.

"Now if we are to have popular Art, or indeed Art of any kind, we must at once and for all be done with this luxury; it is the supplanter, the changeling of Art; so much so that by those who know of nothing better it has even been taken for Art, the divine solace of human labour, the romance of each day's hard practice of the difficult art of living."

"And here furthermore is at least a little sign whereby to distinguish between a rag of fashion and a work of Art: whereas the toys of fashion when the first gloss is worn off them do become obviously worthless even to the frivolous—a work of Art, be it ever so humble, is long lived; we never tire of it; as long as a scrap hangs together it is valuable and instructive to each new generation. All works of Art in short have the property of becoming venerable amidst decay: and reason good, for from the first there was a soul in them, the thought of man, which will be visible in them so long as the body exists in which they were implanted."

When he thought of popular Art he thought of the craftsmanship of the common people. The art people have made from useful everyday objects with skillful handicrafts. This is what he means by "divine solace of human labour". It's not reverence of Puritanical work ethic, on the contrary, it's the reverence of creation, of the earnest joy people feel when they get to express themselves through their creative pursuits. He certainly didn't believe in work for work's sake, work needed to be worthwhile and enjoyable. He summarized his own position on what labour should be thusly:

"It is right and necessary that all men should have work to do which shall be worth doing, and be of itself pleasant to do; and which should he done under such conditions as would make it neither over-wearisome nor over-anxious."

He urged his middle class audience to reject consumerism (the lecture was for a very much middle class atheist society):

"For I say again that in buying these things: 'Tis the lives of men you buy! Will you from mere folly and thoughtlessness make yourselves partakers of the guilt of those who compel their fellow men to labour uselessly?"

I think it's glaringly obvious H&M and fast fashion in general is what he would consider luxury. Rags of fashion that are just churned out and discarded without thought and produced by compelling people to labour uselessly. It's not popular art that's made by workers and craftsmen, who are able to express themselves through it. There's no agency for the abused workers in H&M's sweatshops, they are not expressing their joy of creation, they are simply labouring uselessly.

Morris didn't shame workers for buying affortable things even if they weren't Art with big A, because that's the problem he despised the whole economic system for, for taking away the popular Art from people, making it inaccessible, and selling back mass produced products with very little practical or aesthetic value. So I don't think he would have problem with people who can only afford fast fashion today. They are the victims of capitalism too, because Art has been taken away from them. But the idea that some of these think pieces had that perhaps the H&M's Morris collection can be good actually if you squint, that H&M has the capacity to bring the art and beauty Morris advocated for for the people, is level of stupidity that's hard to express in words.

Morris didn't believe anything made with exploited labour could be truly beautiful, truly art. In his 1879 lecture "The Art of the People" he put it like this:

"That thing which I understand by real art is the expression by man of his pleasure in labour."

The way I understand this, is that art is communication. Through it we communicate feelings, ideas and thoughts, that is it's purpose. So for that communication to work, for it to be imbued with message, the person making it needs to feel passion and love for it's creation. How can there be love and passion if the hands making the garment belong to a tired exploited worker who has no agency what so ever in their work and can only think about survival to the next day?

Beyond the fundamental exploitativeness of H&M and fast fashion, this collection would still get zero points on aesthetic values from Morris even with his own designs. Because the work itself was such an important part of art for Morris, good design was nothing without good craftsmanship. Good design in his mind was always relative and dependent on it's purpose.

"For everything made by man’s hands has a form, which must be either beautiful or ugly; beautiful if it is in accord with Nature, and helps her; ugly if it is discordant with Nature, and thwarts her; it cannot be indifferent." (The Lesser Arts, 1877)

Here when he says nature, he means the nature of the thing that is made - basically it's purpose and function - and the nature of the materials it's made from. Basically, the design must always be made to bring out the function of the art and the qualities of the material it's made from, not fight against them. This is because he believed handicrafts were uniquely suitable for expressing the love of creation, therefore superior labour, and to really bring out the qualities of the craftsmanship and enjoy the creative process, the design should be suitable for that craft. The other side, which was the joy of using and experiencing art, required the craft to be selected for the suitable purpose. Using poorly functioning furniture for example is not very enjoyable, nor is using clothing that's made from materials that are not suitable for the climactic conditions it's supposed to be used in.

H&M of course utterly fails in this. They use Morris' designs in fully unsuitable ways. They print patterns made for example for wall papers on poor quality fabrics with synthetics dyes they weren't made for. This line from one blog post I came across really got me: "Therefore, without cheapening the artistic value of Morris’ designs, H&M’s collection offers an unparalleled potential for accessibility to them." No. Fuck no. They do in fact cheapen Morris' designs in every single way possible. Literally this is atrocious.

Despite the popular depiction, Morris wasn't in fact against industrial machinery or industrial art even, or at least he wasn't once his views on art and politics matured. He did think technology was useful, but he thought the people should use industrial methods for the benefit of all, not be enslaved by the industrial machine.

"I have spoken of machinery being used freely for releasing people from the more mechanical and repulsive part of necessary labour; and I know that to some cultivated people, people of the artistic turn of mind, machinery is particularly distasteful, and they will be apt to say you will never get your surroundings pleasant so long as you are surrounded by machinery. I don't quite admit that; it is the allowing machines to be our masters and not our servants that so injures the beauty of life nowadays. In other words, it is the token of the terrible crime we have fallen into of using our control of the powers of Nature for the purpose of enslaving people, we care less meantime of how much happiness we rob their lives of." ("How we live and how we might live", 1887)

However, he thought that the designer should approach it the way they approached any craft, by designing for the strengths of the machine work.

"But if you have to design for machine-work, at least let your design show clearly what it is. Make it mechanical with a vengeance, at the same time as simple at possible. Don't try, for instance, to make a printed plate look like a hand-painted one: make it something which no one would try to do if he were painting by hand..." ("Art and the Beauty of the Earth", 1881)

He did use some machinery for fabric and wall paper printing, but he was very intentional about their use. Still his designs weren't made for the type of methods these modern H&M machinery uses and he did for example use natural dyes. Particularly insulting is that some of the H&M clothes are made from viscose, rayon made with viscose method. Viscose method is extremely toxic and is known to cause long term health consequences for the workers and the people in surrounding areas. This has been well proven knowledge for ages. William Morris' wall paper factory in the beginning used the typical method used at the time which involved arsenic, but once he learned this could pose risks for the workers, he changed the method. Many of the new synthetic dyes were toxic at the time, which is the major reason he so favoured natural dyes, known to not cause health issues for workers or pollute the environment.

The question many of these think pieces about the H&M Morris collection posed was, would Morris disapprove and should we care? The first part of that is very easy to answer. Yes. Of course Morris would disapprove. He is currently powering the whole of British Isles with purely the kinetic energy his grave-spinning produces. Should we care though? If you care about Morris' art, if you want to see more of that kind of art in this world, you should care. Morris' art is not about the superficial qualities. Copying his designs and aesthetics and styles, will only lead to hollow imitations, that are exactly what he described the rags of fashion to be; as the shininess of novelty wears off they will reveal themselves to be soulless, useless and utterly empty. This collection is just that. To see more of the kind of art that makes you feel like his art makes you feel, not just something that reminds you of that feeling, you should focus more on the way the art is made and less on the specific aesthetics. If his vision of labour and art was realised, all art produced of course wouldn't be loved by every person, but all of it would be loved by someone, even if that someone was just the maker. And that would be more worthwhile than every single rag of fast fashion.

I will stop William-Morris-posting now and return to my thesis.

The full texts I quoted here:

Art and Socialism The Art of the People The Lesser Arts How We Live and How We Might Live Art and the Beauty of the Earth

[mimic-tesdinic]

The only Approved Adaptation of Dracula

So after Bram Stoker passed away, his wife Florence Balcombe became his literary executor, and somewhat famously, got into a legal dispute with the creator of Nosferatu,

BUT

She did approve of the 1924 stage adaptation of Dracula, which was relatively book accurate, with the two biggest changes being that Dracula was more of a suave and cunning aristocrat, no longer relying on xenophobic tropes to be scary,

AND

Quincey Morris was now a spunky American Cowgirl. YE HAW BABY!!!

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 11 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is determined to take care of everything so you can take take care of Rose. A visit to your doctor answers a lot of questions, and Bradley is hoping he can still give you the babymoon that he promised.

Warnings: Angst, injury, potential pregnancy complications, fluff, smut

Length: 4200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley had you eating three square meals a day all weekend long. He spent more time talking to your mom than you did, and she helped him cook while you took little naps. Any time food was mentioned, in any capacity, he got you involved.

"Cam and Maria want to know if I'm interested in going out for a belated birthday brunch since I'm feeling a bit better," you told him as you read your texts on Sunday morning.

"Tell them yes," Bradley replied where he was still in bed next to you with his head on your shoulder and his eyes closed. "But I'll drop you off and pick you up." His rough fingers tracing an intricate pattern along your skin from your belly up to your breasts, and you knew better than to argue with him.

"Okay," you murmured as he kissed along the side of your breast. He'd been touching you nonstop since he brought you home from the hospital. If you were awake, his body was in contact with yours, and his hands were on your belly. And when you slept, he seemed to miraculously clean the house and walk Tramp and make edible food. But while he'd been touching you constantly, he didn't initiate sex, and neither did you.

Truthfully, your hand was still aching a bit, and every time you felt Rose move, you silently rejoiced. Your body was sore, and you just kept wanting to go back to sleep. You found yourself stifling yawn after yawn, and you knew Bradley had noticed by the way he kept ushering you back to bed. Of course he would be very gentle with you, but right now, you didn't need anything more than what he was giving you.

Quickly, you finished texting Cam and Maria, then you tossed your phone aside. When you rolled Bradley onto his back, he was smiling as he whispered, "How's my Nugget?" while he played with your necklace charms.

Your visit to the emergency room after you fell at work had been terrifying, but having Bradley around always made you feel stronger. "Why don't you ask her yourself?"

With those words, you were on your back once again, and Bradley's lips were skimming along your belly. "Hey, Rosie. You having fun in there?" He grinned and glanced up at you, letting his mustache tickle your skin as he said, "Daddy would love to be inside Mommy, too."

You snorted in response, something stirring the way it always did when Bradley's big, brown eyes were focused on you. "I mean... I don't have to be at brunch until eleven."

His biceps were on display along with his messy hair, and you were never going to stop wanting him. But he was shaking his head slowly as he told you, "I'm in no rush to make that happen. Let's see what Dr. Morris says tomorrow. You're supposed to be taking it easy, and so is Rose."

"You're right," you agreed, still biting your lip as the sensation of Bradley's mouth on your body.

"I love you," he whispered against your belly before hovering over your body to kiss your lips. "And I love you, Sweetheart. And you're never allowed to scare me again."

When he eventually drove you to brunch, he refused to just drop you off and come back. Instead, he walked you inside, his big hand wrapped around yours, and took you all the way to the table where Cam and Maria were waiting. 

"Hey," he greeted your friends, yanking his aviators down his nose as he wrapped his arm around you. "She's supposed to be eating plenty of healthy foods rich with nutrients and vitamins. Can the two of you be responsible for what she orders?"

"Roo," you whined, rolling your eyes, but your friends just nodded up at your husband.

"Yes," they recited in unison.

"Excellent," Bradley replied, largely ignoring your complaints as he added, "And you'll make sure she drinks at least three glasses of water?"

"Yes," they repeated.

"Perfect," he muttered, leaning in to give you a kiss while his hand slid down your belly. "Text me when you want me to come get you, Sweetheart."

As he walked away, you sighed, but both of your friends had their eyes glued to him. "Damn," Maria said as you took the seat across from her. "He means business."

Cam bit his knuckle before he picked up the menu as if he didn't already know what he was going to order. "You're so fucking lucky you have such a bossy husband," he complained. "And one with a mustache. If I didn't like you so much, I would hate you."

You watched Bradley's broad back as he exited the restaurant and headed toward the red Bronco, pushing his sunglasses into place as he went. "I would probably hate me, too," you murmured, picking up your first of three glasses of water and taking a long sip.

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

Bradley ran around with his checklist on Monday morning so he didn't forget anything. You mom taught him how to make overnight oatmeal in the slow cooker, which seemed to be the only kitchen appliance that he was able to master on the first try. He fucking loved that thing; you just tossed food into it, and it turned into a meal like magic. He vaguely remembered his mom having one, which just made it even better.

Every time he thought about his parents, he had to stop and catch his breath. His desire to do this right was overwhelming. After you fell at work, he knew there was no margin for error. He filled up a cup with water and carried it back to the bedroom where he hoped you were still asleep, but you weren't even there.

"Baby Girl?" he called out, but then he heard the toilet flush and the sink run before you shuffled back in from the bathroom.

"You're making me drink too much water," you grumbled as he ushered you back to bed. "I can't stop peeing."

He set the new cup down and picked up the used one. "Just humor me, please. I'll come back to pick you up at 11:45 to take you to Dr. Morris. I'll feel a lot better after she examines the two of you, and I have a list of seventeen questions for her."

You looked at him like he was joking. He wasn't. "Mmkay, Roo. Come back and get me later," you said, kissing his lips before climbing back into bed. 

When he got to base, everyone was asking about you."She's at home resting," he assured Nat. "She's sore and tired, but the baby is moving around a bunch. I'm taking them to get checked out again at lunchtime today. Oh, and thanks for getting groceries for me. And driving me to the emergency room. And making sure I didn't have a full nervous breakdown."

Nat gave him a big hug. "Literally what I'm here for, Soul Sister. Just keep me in mind when nominations come out for godparents," she told him with a wink.

"Huh," he grunted, because he hadn't even thought about that. If he had to choose someone, he would probably want it to be Nat, but he didn't know where you stood on the topic, so he didn't say another word about it. When he had to get in his Super Hornet and take off, his mind shifted back to Friday, and a flash of panic went through his body as his wheels left the runway. 

"Rooster, do you copy?" He realized Maverick had asked him something, but he had no idea what. All he could picture was your tear streaked face as you lay in the hospital bed shivering.

"Say again?" he asked, hand gripping the throttle as he tried to focus. He should have used a vacation day, but he was trying to save them up for after the baby was born. He was kind of terrified that you'd have to go out on medical leave, and he knew he wasn't going to feel better about any of this until he heard from Dr. Morris.

"Meet Payback at the rendezvous point," Maverick repeated, and Bradley pushed his nervous energy to the side. How much trouble could you get into at home with Tramp anyway?

The answer was apparently a lot. When he walked in the door to pick you up for your appointment, he headed for the bedroom only to find you sitting on the floor of the baby's nursery with the dog next to you. "What are you doing?" he asked with a sigh. "You were supposed to be resting all morning."

"Relax," you told him, holding up your hands in surrender. "I got bored, so I just started sorting the baby clothes."

He cradled his forehead in his hand. "Baby Girl. You're killing me. Tell me you at least ate lunch? And drank enough water?"

"Three glasses of water," you replied, holding up three fingers and nodding. "And a peanut butter and hot sauce and jelly sandwich. And carrot sticks dipped in ketchup."

Bradley wanted to gag just thinking about it, but he supposed that was actually pretty good for you. "Excellent," he replied, reaching down to help you stand up. "We need to get going. Now."

"Oh," you whispered, kissing his cheek once you were on your feet. "You're really hot when you're being bossy."

Bradley sighed and let his head tip back as you ran your hand down the front of his flight suit. "If, and only if, Dr. Morris says having sex is okay, I could get real bossy with you later if you give me an attitude about eating your dinner."

You squeaked in delight and practically ran out of the room. "Let's get going," you called over your shoulder. "The sooner we ask, the sooner we can potentially fuck."

Bradley grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator on his way to help you put your shoes on, and he was trying not to laugh the entire time. "Drink this," he told you before tying your shoes. Then he kissed you hard before leading you out to the red Bronco.

Once he backed out of the driveway, you reached for his hand. Bradley drove with the radio playing softly, and eventually you squeezed his fingers and admitted, "I am a little nervous though."

So was he, but he wasn't going to tell you that. "We'll figure it out. You don't have to worry about it alone."

He held your hand in the waiting room, and he had his arm wrapped around you when the nurse called you back to be examined. They took about a million samples from you before you were allowed to get cozy on the exam table with him sitting by your side, gently rubbing your left hand without touching your stitches. He was just thinking about what he was going to cook for dinner when Dr. Morris finally walked in.

"It sounds like you had a bit of a scare on Friday," she remarked, carrying your chart in her hand.

"Yes," you said sheepishly. "It was really scary."

"Well," she sighed, taking a seat with a smile, "let's take a look."

You were gripping Bradley's hand as Dr. Morris got the ultrasound equipment ready, and a few seconds later, Rose was squirming around on the huge monitor. "She got so big," he gasped. "Sweetheart, look at her!"

"I see her, Roo."

Dr. Morris looked completely calm, but Bradley asked, "Is she okay? After the fall?"

"She's just fine. Heartbeat is good. She's nice and strong."

"Excellent," he replied while you laughed in relief.

"However," Dr. Morris added, making his heart skip a beat, "we do need to talk about preeclampsia."

Your face fell when Bradley looked at you. "I have preeclampsia?" you asked softly.

Your doctor nodded. "A mild case, but yes. The baby looks fantastic, but I'm going to need you to monitor your blood pressure daily at home. And I have a list of foods you should eat as well as ones to avoid. And you need to eat and drink regularly so you don't faint again."

"Am I allowed to go back to work?" you asked.

"Yes. With the promise that you won't overdo it. And if you start to feel light headed, you need to sit down immediately and call me."

"Right," you agreed. "And is it safe to fuck my husband?"

"Sweetheart," Bradley groaned, resting his forehead against your arm in embarrassment.

"What?" you asked while Dr. Morris chuckled. "You wanted to know, too!"

Bradley shook his head as your doctor had mercy on him and said, "You can absolutely have sex with your husband as long as it's not causing you stress or raising your blood pressure too much. Monitor it. Keep an eye on it."

"Right," you agreed again, giving Bradley side eye as he pulled a sheet of paper out of his pocket.

"I have a few more questions for you, Dr. Morris. If you don't mind." He cleared his throat and started to read his seventeen questions, nodding at each answer until he got to his last one. "And how about a babymoon vacation? Is that something we can do?"

"I don't see why not," she said with a smirk. "Assuming your blood pressure doesn't get too high, and as long as you go in the next few weeks if air travel is involved. You're only ten weeks or so from your due date."

Well, that certainly put things into perspective for Bradley. He had a few ideas of where he wanted to take you, but now he was going to have to plan quickly and try to get some days off from work. 

"Do you think I should change into my maternity tent and go to work for the afternoon?" you asked as he led you out of the appointment.

"Absolutely fucking not," he replied, feeling much better but still wanting you to rest a little more. "I'm going to take you back home where you will relax and eat a healthy snack, and then I'll come home and make dinner."

You looked up at him in awe. "Those are words I legitimately never thought I would hear you say unironically."

"Get used to them," he murmured, leaning down to kiss you before you climbed into the Bronco. "And you better not give me an attitude about it, or else I could end up getting really bossy." He clicked your seatbelt into place with a grin as you clapped your hands.

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

"You made spaghetti?" you asked, arms crossed over your chest.

"Yes," Bradley replied easily where he stood in the kitchen hours later wearing your I Love Meat apron and holding a slotted spoon. "Is there a problem with that?"

"Yeah. I'm not eating it. I don't want spaghetti."

"Hmm," Bradley hummed, carefully setting down the spoon and turning off the stove burner. "It sounds like you're giving me an attitude."

You had to squeeze your thighs together, already so turned on as he closed the distance to you while you said, "Maybe I am." You jutted your chin out at him and added, "What are you going to do about it?"

His gaze dipped down from your face to your breasts which were practically spilling out of your stretchy tank top. He had an erection which you could clearly see through his gym shorts and the apron. "I'm going to give you an attitude adjustment," he growled, pulling you closer to him. "And then you're going to eat the fucking dinner that I made for you without complaining."

You were already panting for him, so excited over this little roleplay exercise, but you squealed in surprise when he yanked your top clear off and and immediately got handsy. His thumbs were rough on your nipples as he stroked them and pressed your breasts together. Then he let his right hand slide down your backside where he gave you one soft swat and barked, "Hands on the counter."

You did as you were told, already rolling your hips as he stood behind you and yanked your shorts and underwear down. "Bradley," you whined when you saw the apron fall to the floor at your feet, and a second later, he was pushing his cock inside your pussy as you bent a little more.

He planted his hands on the counter next to both of yours, and he ran his thumb gently along the spot near your stitches as he pushed himself deep. You felt his mustache on your ear as he whispered, "Make sure you relax. No high blood pressure for you, Sweetheart. I love you." Then he started fucking you nice and hard as he growled, "You've had a bad attitude all day. You know that? It's about time I fucked it out of you."

"Oh god!" you moaned in excitement. "Please do, Daddy."

He went hard, alternating between talking sweet and scolding you for being bad. "You're so damn hot, I can barely stand it," he crooned. "You'll eat the fucking dinner I made, and you'll say thank you," he grunted, getting you more and more worked up as you gripped at the countertop. "You gonna eat the spaghetti?" he asked, fingers dipping below your belly to find your clit. "Huh?"

"Yes!" you shouted, eyes fluttering closed as he stroked you in slow circles that got faster and tighter. "Yes!"

Bradley's lips were pressed to the sensitive spot behind your ear, and you were treated to the deep, guttural sounds he made as his hips slapped against your butt. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come on." As soon as you felt that first perfect clench of your ograsm, he was coming too. "That's it," he groaned. "That's a good girl."

You were still bumping your body back against his, coming down from your high, when he wrapped both hands around to your belly and asked, "You feel okay? The Nugget's okay?"

"So good," you gasped, finally pulling your hands away from the counter. "Perfect."

You spun in his arms with a smile on your face, and your belly bumped his abs. His cheeks were all flushed, and he looked a little tired, but he was smiling as his cum dripped down your thighs. "You hungry for the spaghetti?" he asked, stroking your cheek with his fingers.

"Starving," you replied, finally sated.

Two minutes later, you were sitting on Bradley's lap at the dining room table with one huge plate of spaghetti and two glasses of water. "I can't believe you made this. It smells incredible, Roo," you praised. 

"Your mom helped a lot," he replied, but you could hear the pride in his voice. "Did you know you're supposed to add salt to the water before you cook pasta?"

You tried not to laugh as you twirled spaghetti onto your fork and took a bite. "This is delicious. And yes, I did know that."

"Is that why it always tasted so much better when you made it? I never did that before today."

God, you loved him so much, it was ridiculous. You'd been cooking for the two of you for years now, but he stepped out of his comfort zone as soon as you fell at work, knowing you couldn't keep doing all of this by yourself. Instead of answering his question, you said, "I could never love anyone else as much as I love you."

"Same," he replied easily. "It's just you and Rosie for me. That's why I spent my afternoon planning out the perfect babymoon."

"You did?" you asked, turning to look at him over your shoulder.

"Keep eating, and I'll tell you more," he promised, nudging your shoulder before taking a bite for himself. 

Once you were eating again, he said, "As long as you can get a few days off at the end of the month, I want to take you somewhere that is plentiful with hot sauce."

"Del Mar?" you asked, thinking of the hot sauce restaurant and the reservation you missed on your birthday.

He gave you a bland look. "Come on, even I can do better than that."

"I don't know," you said with a laugh, and he nudged you again to take another forkful.

"Beautiful beaches. Spicy food. And a hot sauce making workshop," he whispered, and you nearly dropped your fork.

"You and Jake didn't try to make hot sauce again, did you?" When you thought about the disgusting bottle of spicy vinegar your husband brought home as a treat, you almost wanted to cry. "Please tell me no."

"Sweetheart," he said with a laugh. "I'm talking about Mexico!"

"Oh!" you gasped in excitement.

He looked so pleased with himself as he said, "It's a short plane ride away. We'll just go for a few days. It'll be like our honeymoon in Hawaii all over again, but this time you'll be pregnant in your little red bikini with your rooster tattoo on display."

You bit your lip as his hand settled on your thigh. "You really thought this through."

"I did," he replied. "You wanted a babymoon, and Dr. Morris said it's okay, so you're getting a babymoon. Now let's finish eating so I can check your blood pressure and clean the kitchen."

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

The next few weeks of work were tedious. Your lab mates often treated you like you were made out of porcelain, about to fall over at the slightest inconvenience. Even Bickel got into a bit of a habit of going easy on you before you met with him to tell him you were eating and staying hydrated and could carry your normal workload.

"I'm going to get something to drink," Cat told you one day as you sat in front of your computer working some calculations in the software. "Do you want anything? Maybe a snack?"

"You don't have to be so nice to me right now," you replied. "In fact, please don't."

She scoffed. "Are you trying to insinuate that I'm usually mean to you or something?"

You looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "You're certainly never this nice. And I mean that in a good way. I think I got used to you being a bit rough around the edges most of the time, and I like it that way."

"Who took care of your wedding rings?" she asked. "And who helped you battle your morning sickness in Annapolis?"

"You did," you replied easily. "But you're never this sweet to anyone besides Jeremiah and Jake. The two loves of your life."

She was silent for a beat before she said, "I'll just get you some juice." She left the lab, and you smiled. Jake wanted to get married, but she was putting up a hell of a fight even as she was steadily paying down the debt her husband accrued while Jake paid for Jeremiah's daycare on base.

You groaned and rubbed your eyes as you yawned. Getting Rose on the waitlist for the daycare was something you kept forgetting to take care of, and it really needed to be done. You were leaving for Mexico in just a few days, but there were so many things you wanted to take care of first. Maybe you could ask Bradley to take care of this one agenda item, since he kept insisting your top priority was taking care of yourself. You could practically hear him tell you that the only person he trusted with the loves of his life was you.

By the time he met you in the parking garage at the end of the day, you were yawning nonstop. "Hey, I don't like that," he said right away, jogging the last bit to get to you. "You're really tired, Sweetheart."

"I am," you agreed. "But I ate a salad and an enormous bowl of soup for lunch, and I had two snacks today."

He kissed your forehead as he muttered, "Taking perfect care of my girls. I'll get you home and feed you dinner, and then we can start packing for our trip before you go to bed early. Oh, and I got the Nugget on the waitlist for daycare today."

"Bradley," you moaned, leaning into him. "You're the best husband. And like seriously, I don't even know how to deal with how fucking much that turns me on."

He kissed your forehead again and said, "Okay, we can definitely add sex to the agenda if we stop wasting time and head home immediately."

"I'll get undressed while you drive," you joked, playfully unbuttoning your horrible shirt while he buckled you in.

"Baby Girl, those massive tits could cause an accident," he warned before he groaned. "Holy shit, all I can think about is you wearing that little bikini with your belly and fucking gorgeous tits all over the place. Everyone is going to be looking at me next to you, knowing I got you like this." His hand rested on your bump, and he swallowed hard. "Knowing that's my baby."

"Seriously," you panted. "We need to get home now."

Bradley drove at a respectable speed and made you swear you would eat the dinner he made. Then when you got home, he checked your blood pressure and had you drink a glass of water. It was only at that point that he fucked you into the mattress, really rather lovingly, before he served you dinner.

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

Next up is the babymoon of her dreams. Then Natasha is planning a baby shower that will probably be a nightmare. Then it's time for the Nugget to make her grand entrance! Thanks for reading! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 12

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[luvvyouforever]

Hello, could I request Stardew Valley Sam relationship headcanons with a female reader? Sfw and nsfw, please and thank you!

absolutely! <3

sdv sam boyfriend headcanons ౨ৎ

content: fluff, cheesy things, nicknames, cuddling, overstimulation, dom/sub mention, nudes, praise, fantasies. author's note: i've never actually romanced or married sam in sdv but i did research for this so i hope it's somewhat accurate hehe

sfw:

-loves doing cheesy stuff with you! like if you see any internet couple trend you wanna do, he would jump at the opportunity to do with you!! is just totally not afraid to show his love for you, even if it can be a little corny at times.

-he probably calls you "babe" and "baby" a lot! they're easy pet names that roll of his tongue easily. tbh, he probably uses them more than your actual name! if he's addressing you all flirtatiously, he uses "cutie." i think he also likes coming up with a very special nickname for you that comes from an inside joke.

-will totally write and dedicate songs to you, are you kidding me?? and oh my god he's so cute and cheesy with it too. like, when you guys have just started to flirt and get closer to each other, you're hanging out at sunset on the pier or he's watching you excitedly play video games on his bedroom floor and he looks at you all puppy-eyed and says, "i could write a song about you." and it becomes a phrase he uses for those extra special moments in life.

-loves watching you support him and his band. seeks you out in the crowd, points to you, and makes eye contact with you through the whole show. pleaseee make a t-shirt with the band name on it and wear it around him. he's never been more in love.

-when he's working at joja, he's totally the kind to have you come over and just hang around him while he's at work. does morris find it incredibly annoying that the farmer trying to put him out of business is distracting one of his only workers? yes, but are you gonna stop? no, your bf needs company!

-speaking of keeping him company, his love language is def quality time. feels so loved when you just want to spend time with him, regardless of what you're doing. he's so happy just to have you in his room while he's playing games or playing the guitar and you can work on whatever you'd like! just loves your presence and really values it.

-would also be incredibly happy if you got along with abigail and sebastian. those are his best friends and bandmates! he invites you to their practices and hang outs and he feels his heart grow a little wider when you're laughing with everyone like you've been there the whole time.

-likes doing things around the farm with you! he might not be the best at some of the chores (aka he once pulled up an entire patch of carrots thinking they were ready to be harvested...they were not), but he's gonna offer to help anyway! maybe give him the job of petting all your cows and pigs and chickens, or collecting the honey from your beehives.

-learns your favorite song on guitar and plays it for you when you've been having a bad day. he's so sweet.

-is such a cuddle bug. before he moves into the farmhouse, he always sadly leaves you at night and looks back at you with a pout on his face the whole walk home. you laugh at his antics from the porch, but really, you get the best sleep when you both are a tangled mess of limbs with the blankets folded beyond recognition.

-he is such a typical skater bf. tries to teach you to skateboard and holds your arms really steady as he pulls you along the sidewalk outside of his house. he's so encouraging and keeps telling you, "look! you're doing it! you're doing so good!" if you fell, he would ask if you're okay and if there's no injuries, he will let out a little giggle.

-he really wants to support you when you go into the mines. even goes as far as offering to come with you! he lasts through the slimes and the flying bug things, but the minute he sees the ghosts and the skeletons and the golems, he's finding the next elevator and leaving immediately. shouts "you got this babe!" from the top of the cave.

-loves putting you in and see you in his clothes. if it's cold, he likes wrapping you up in his jacket. if you're sleeping over, will not hesitate to offer one of his shirts to wear. if you're in the saloon watching him play pool, he offers you his denim jacket to wear. it's not really a possessive thing, but more so a "ohmygodyoulooksocute" thing.

-gets cuteness aggression with you, tbh. like when you've woken up in the morning engulfed in oversized hoodies and sweatpants with a tired pout on your lips, he just wants to bite you and squeeze you.

-forgets everything. poor baby. like his memory is just awful and he won't forget the chords to your favorite song or how to do a trick on the skateboard that impressed you early on, but he will forget to set out food to thaw for dinner and he will forget to put the newest batches of wine into the shipping box.

-really finds your connection with his family to be incredibly important. like he would be okay if you didn't click well with his friends, but if you weren't playing with vincent on the living room floor or helping jodi wash the dishes after dinner, he would be a little more than turned off.

-if you're the type of person to mess with lewis and steal his purple shorts and use them in every event, he's right behind you. giggles when the only thing you've brought for the showcase is his shorts and even stalls him while you place them in the box. loves getting all the town gossip from you too!

-sam just really wants to be with someone who appreciates his presence, who is willing to be a part of his life, and someone he can have a lot of fun with. he just loves loving you and he makes sure you know that too.

nsfw:

-i don't think sam's got a lot of experience tbh. i don't think he's entirely new to the concept of sex, as in i don't think he's a virgin, but he's just on the younger side in a small town where everybody knows everybody!

-that's not to say that he doesn't know what he's doing with you. in a more modern stardew valley world, he's likely consumed at least some kind of pornography (probably in normal sdv too, idk what they get up to at nightime), and also knows what gets him going.

-he's also a quick learner and adaptable. if you don't like something he's doing, he wants you to guide him to where you want him. once you've taught it to him once, it becomes second nature after that.

-is really allllll about pleasure during sex. he can't really put up with teasing or edging too long because damn it, let the man make you feel good! would much prefer to overstimulate both you and himself than deny both of your pleasures.

-in fact, he actually thinks overstimulation is hot both for you and him. you'd have to tug him off of you because he just never wants you to stop feeling good. he thinks seeing your scrunched up face and hearing your intense moans is soooo hot. as for him, he loves when you keep touching him even after he's came. whether it's with your hand or mouth or pussy, he doesn't care. he loves the way it feels.

-is such a sucker for lingerie. when he's not with you in bed and really needs to jerk off, he imagines stripping you down, starting with your pants, then moving to his band t-shirt that he throws to the side, revealing the prettiest, lacy set underneath that makes his mouth water.

-definitely fucks to music and even makes a CD to play while you guys are having sex. it's a combination of songs he loves, songs that fit the mood, and songs you love. he just likes having the background noise accompanying your moans.

-can really either be more dominant or more submissive. i see him as a very sweet, soft dom though. he's calling you all kinds of cute names and adorning your body with a billion kisses and encouraging you to cum for him or to cum another time and then he's caressing your body really gently while he slides in. as for being submissive, he just thinks there's something so hot about a strong woman taking lead. he'll listen to you like a puppy and thrives on praise.

-speaking of praise, the man lives and breathes it. tell him how good he's doing, let him know that you're feeling fucking amazing. in turn, he'll spill compliment after compliment, so many, in fact, that you have to tell him to hush.

-kinda thinks the thrill of you and him fucking in his bedroom is so hot. it's late at night, the rest of the house is definitely asleep, but you're giggling and sneaking in through the window and kissing him so his moans are subdued.

-i think sam really needs to be with someone who thinks hands/fingers are hot, can i say that? like the man plays guitar so his fingers are long and slender and i feel like he's got these nice veins that pop out when he plays, and he blushes when you can't stop staring at them, imagining all the things those hands could be doing right then.

-regardless of whether he's feeling more dominant or submissive, he's so incredibly needy. when he's in the mood, he's touching you all over from the minute the both of you are home to the minute you fall asleep after having sex. he's whispering pleases and giving you these big puppy dog eyes. he's all pouty when you have to get him to stop touching you, like when he's at work or when you're at the saloon.

-if you imagine a modern sdv with phones, he's such a sucker for nudes. before he moves in, when you're in separate bedrooms, you'll surprise him with a pic of you in his t-shirt lifted up to show what's underneath. he responds within seconds, telling you how pretty you are. it just grows from there. he's soooo the kind of guy to send you videos of him touching himself. and cumming too.

-really loves you riding him i think. he's a boob guy and likes having them right there in front of his face. he's running his hands all over you and groping you and throwing his head into your chest. i think he's also down to try 69ing. both of you get pleasure while also giving pleasure??? he's all for it.

-before you actually make a move and have sex with him, he's all about sloppy makeouts in his bed. you've snuck into his room after jodi went to bed and he has you perched in his lap, making out to some kind of soft rock music.

-is such a sucker for hickies too. while he does try to hide them the day after, he just love seeing your handiwork in the mirror the morning after. he gets needy again seeing the huge purple and red splotches on his neck and touches them while reminding himself how he got them. would send you a picture too with a winky face and a cheeky comment hehe.

-i think he has a lot of fantasies in his head. like he adores you for how you are, but when he's by himself, he's imagining these scenarios like rockstar x fan backstage or, dare i say, professor x student (w you as the professor of course). he'll be so ashamed to admit these out loud, but once you encourage him enough, he gets so excited and makes it an entire production.

hope you enjoyed! (i might need to romance sam on my next farm)