#anyway this post is about wife beaters

[crazywolf828]

Man, you ever just realized something is so bad and like probably racist but you grew up saying it and you're like how even???

[luciathcv]

muscles and tattoos - jjk

summary: you love your boyfriends muscles and tattoos || warnings: none || genre: fluff, established relationship || word count: approximately 400

you loved your boyfriend's arms

and i mean... could anyone blame you?

the answer is no

i mean, first of all, they were so muscular

and not only were they muscular but they were just so big

andddd on top of all that, one of them was all tatted up

you loved it

and dw, jungkook knew that

when you guys first started dating, you tried to be more subtle about it

when he would walk around in his wife beaters, his arms on full display, you had to act chill and act like you totally weren't freaking out

when he hugged you from behind, you had to act like you weren't staring at his hands and arms

you had to act like you weren't melting into his hold

until jungkook realized how much you liked it one day and you didn't have to anymore..

it was so different now

a big habit of yours would be to trace his tattoos

you'd do it mindlessly while watching a movie together

or while you're in some waiting room somewhere

especially when you're cuddled up in bed together

you'd wake up earlier than him a lot of the time (unsurprisingly since he stayed up really late most of the time)

you didn't exactly want to leave the bed yet but at the same time, you didn't have anything better to do so....

your eyes would go over to his arm which was always draped over your torso

you'd bring your hand to it and would just trace all the little designs and letters

it didn't only calm you but him as well

for example...

whenever jungkook is really stressed with work

and just needing some comforting

you'd lay with him and just trace his tattoos

the feeling of your fingers softly grazing his skin was so relaxing for him

he'd end up calming down

anyways, enough with his tattoos

sorry i just love them so much

i feel like his arms would be such a comforting thing for you

unconsciously too

like whenever you guys were in a crowded place, your first instinct would be to hold onto his arm

or whenever you were scared after watching a horror movie, you'd hold onto his arm as you walked back to your bedroom (yes i was thinking back to my other post lol)

jungkook would love it so much too because it really showed that you felt safe around him

and you really did

ᥫ᭡ link to my masterlist

[icarusredwings]

Scent. 1/2

Sfw, Primal scenting, established poolverine, countryside comedy, angst, and fluff. Wade gets smothered in front of the fireplace by a big domestic wolverine because of his self-confidence issues.

Post Save a horse/Ride a wolverine

Requested by @asaturnerofficial

Somewhere in Texas, On a small plot ranch with only a handful of chickens and 2 horses. One is a pony, actually. Her name was Buttercream, and she used to do kids' parties. She just kinda came with the house, and so did the chickens, but Cupcake (who was, in fact, a gelding, named by Wade) was bought off a different rancher who claimed he couldn't be ridden. Well- that was apparently a huge lie because Cup allowed him to ride him every now and again. Maybe it was a scent thing.

Actually, Scent was very important in this house, and it was something Logan checked each night before bed. Sniff around the property and shoo off any animals that didn't belong. He didn't mind the Co-yotes they just were trying to live as much as anything else, but it made him nervous to think about what they might do to the chickens or hell - to Mary Puppins. They would eat her for a snack and still be peckish.

"Alright, I fed the chickens, fed buttercream cupcake, fed puppins, now what do- Woah! Jesus's mother, Mary Magdalene!"

He had just walked into the living room to see Logan laid out on a rug in nothing but his iconic wife beater, some worn in-in all the right places- jeans, and his boots. He had got the fire place working I guess because there it was, heating up the home.

"I dont think its really a good idea to have a fire place inside of house made of wood but what do I know? Im not OSHA certified." He said, of course, to the wall.

Rolling his eyes, Logan was far used to this by now, chuckling a bit. "I got it workin' "

"Yeah I see. I was just talking about that."

"I saw. Who are you talking to anyway?" For once this question was genuine instead of condescending.

"Oh, you know. The viewers. Readers. Whatever you wanna call them." Again, he turns and waves. "Hi. Also- where did he get a bear skin rug? This guy. Ruining the budget. Do you know how expensive bears are?"

Having seen this a billion times, he's learned to just go with it. "Viewers...? Like.. a reality tv show?"

"Kind of. And let me just say, This?" He put his hands out like he was taking a picture. "Is beautiful. You're going to make the ratings sky rocket! Think of what this will do for your PR!"

"Right.. well. I hate to break the.. viewers.. little hearts but this isn't a bear skin. What bears do you know that have black and white spots?"

"Pandas."

Blinking, He sat up. "Wade, this is the middle of texas. Where do you think im going to find a panda?"

"The zoo." He shrugs, watching his boyfriend laugh at him, rolling his eyes.

"So you think the zoo is just going to let me take one of their pandas and skin it for my livingroom?"

"Oh. Yeah, that's a bit of a streach for the budget, isn't it? What is it then?- GAASSP- Don't tell me it's puppies!!"

"What?" (He's found himself saying this about 50 times a day now when living with him, possibly 100) "It's cow.."

"Oooh! Okay- that would have been a deal breaker. I can deal with skinning an endangered species, but I draw the line at Cruella activities."

"So are you just gonna keep talking to that wall, or are you gonna come're?" He muttered, smirking some as he made a small squeal, rushing over to sit down.

The scent of cheap dollar store foundation made him cringe, his mood and demeter changing instantly. "What did I tell you about wearin' that shit.."

Tensing up, he smiled awkwardly, putting his hands in his lap as he looked away. "It's the 21st century, Wolvie, Men wear make up now."

"No. You know damn well that's not what I meant. Come here." Before he could even begin to protest, he grabbed him by the belt, a signature, pulling him into his arms only to flip him on the floor.

"Eeehh!! Peanut, seriously, it's fine! It's just makeup! I didn't even put my mascara on!"

"Im taking that shit off of you. It stinks!" He growled, now straddling him on top of the soft cow rug.

Squirming a bit, Wade was trying to push him off but it was hard to do that when your boyfriend was so heavy, having just started to get back to a healthy weight, healing his relationship with food and his appearance. It only reminded him how much he loved having him. Oh, his big beefy boy. Usually, he would enjoy being manhandled, but he worked hard on his blending today!

"Noo! Do you know how hard it is to cover all THIS up!?"

"Exactly my point. That's why it's coming off. It doesn't NEED covered up, moron!" Pulling off his shirt, both the view and the words put Wade into somewhat of a dormant state.

"You really mean th- Ahh!! Hey! No! You tricked me with nice words!" He protested as he used the shirt to wipe it off, spitting on it and rubbing cirlces to get it off of him. It was times like these when Wade realized that Logan COULD actually hurt him if he wanted too. Then again.. Trapped under a bronzed muscly man like him?

Glory, glory, what a hell of a way to die!

"What are you talking about?"

Oh shit- he hadn't noticed that he said this out loud. "Nothing!! I just - Why do you always have to ruin my makeup!? What are you jealous or something?" He turned to the side, away from him. "Oh, let's be honest. It would be a crime to cover up that face."

"I could say the same thing about you, Bub." He muttered, wiping off the last bit off his neck, holding it as he leaned down to sniff him, still cringing.

"Gross."

This word alone was enough to audibly hear Wade's heart snap. Swallowing as his throat tightened and put his arms over his face.

Oh shit.. that wasn't the best of word to say, was it? God, why was this so hard? This is why he grunted instead of spoke. Words were too complicated.

A pang in his chest ran deep, his own heart clenching as he heard him whimper.

"That's.. That's why I do it.."

"Oh, Wade.." You'd have to be deaf to not hear the tears in his voice, visibly upset and nowhere to run off too, nothing to hide with. He was trapped. The next option was to push him away, Hit him in the chest so he'd let go. Know that he was done playing. That this was serious.

"You know that! So W-why would you -"

He kissed him, holding both sides of his face. Despite the pushing still lasting, it quickly died down as he wrapped his arms around his neck.

Pulling away only when the air in their lungs ran out, He smirked again, breaths heavy.

"Now, if I thought you were so terrible, would I do that? Hm?"

"Y-yes.."

So he kissed him again, this time giving a little growl into it the way he liked it, causing him to giggle and push his face away, turning again.

"Who is this starving man? Where is my wolverine?"

"Right here, baby. All me." He says, looking to where he was too.

"Hey, you can't talk to them! They're mine!"

"Too bad. So what's the census? My PR or what ever you call it up yet?"

"I don't know.."

"Oh sure, you do. It's your show, isn't it?" He asks, turning him to look at him as he crosses his arms, looking away again, still upset with him.

"... It's our show, actually...Deadpool AND Wolverine... sometimes featuring Dogpool, but that's besides the point! Im thinking about cutting you... you're taking up too much budget."

"Oh, am I now? Well, maybe you'd have more budget if you ditched that stinky shit."

Wade went silent for a moment, stalling to tell him what Logan already knew.

"Ooh... Ratings drop when you're you... don't they?" Right. That made so much more sense. Wilson has taken his own negative thoughts and categorized them into show manager and critic positions. And the critics didn't like him bare faced.

"Well... What if we raised ratings or whatever way up? Without all that bullcrap?"

"Do you know how hard it would be to-"

A third kiss.

"You really should learn to shut up, mouth."

[sl-walker]

Emergency Commissions

So, I have been unemployed since July and then Thursday night, a buck in rut decided to leap in front of my poor little Cobalt. She absolutely saved my son and I by taking the brunt of the impact, but obviously, she's not going anywhere anytime soon. I might be able to save her and do intend to try -- I've had her for almost ten years and almost 100K miles, and have been utterly faithful in my maintenance; I love this car dearly and she clearly loved us right back the other night by absorbing the impact of a gigantic whitetail -- but that's not going to be something that happens quickly.

In the meantime, I need a car. Despite being unemployed, the scrimping and saving and the help of family has netted me about 3500 I can put towards one. Unfortunately, even beaters these days tend to go for more than that. I have a job prospect I'm waiting to hear back from, but no guarantees.

So, in order to raise funds, I'm offering emergency portrait commissions.

The caveat is that they'll be pencil only, bust only portraits, because those are the ones I can do quickest and easiest. As for price: Pay what you think is fair. It takes me between an hour and two hours, usually, to do a pencil portrait depending on how elaborate you want it. I also typically don't take payment before the work is complete, so you could shaft me pretty severely, but I'd like to believe better of people than that. (I will be pretty hurt if someone sends me $5 or $10 for a portrait that takes me two hours, though, ngl.)

I can draw humans and humanoids, though the more elaborate, the longer it'll probably take. Love doing OCs for people. I'm less sure if I can do animals or furries, but I'd probably be willing to give it a shot if I have good references. Some examples of my pencil stuff:

Anyway, DM me here or find me on D*scord at sl_walker if you're interested! And please do feel free to signal boost.

(ETA: I'll also be posting new nails by my wife soon, too!)

[uc1wa]

Haiiii I’m the one who asked for plug Roy Tehehe :3c

But anwyas hear me out

Loser Dick Grayson or Roy Harper (can you tell who my favorite character is?)

Dick is one of those gym bro losers, like the ones on Tiktoc who post thirst traps and them in their car trying to be funny by talking super loud then laughing but everyone eats it up? (I’m into them.)

The ones who spend all their time at the gym and think theyer so cultured because they know of feminism has daddy’s money

Roy is the loser who works at 9-5 dead end job (maybe like Spencer’s or at a gas station) and just smokes all day once he gets home and fights kids on x-box live, dosnt even contribute to anything

They both somehow get their dicks wet every other weekend and then leaves the girls they hooked up with on read till their lonely but we’re special so that didn’t happen and their super pathetic. Roy dosnt really do much he knows how to get a girl to finish but he does it in a lazy way and mostly just wants to get himself off. Dick is the same but at least he is more enthusiastic about it. Both don’t really care if the girl they’re with that week even finishes, he just doesn’t wanna be rude. But when they met you and decided “yeah, that’s my next fuck”, they do their usual, compliment you in a subtle way, talk about stuff you might be interested in, crack some jokes then ask for your number.

You guys talk for a few weeks (it’s 2, 3 1/2 if you’re busy 💀) At first you didn’t agree but when they send you a picture of them waring a pair of sweat pants and a wife beater (I’m sorry, im such a sucker for men in black wife beaters I like- AAAA)

You finally agree. At first they expected you to be like the other girls, kinda Submissive, but shy, and quick. But boy oh boy-

Once you both are in the sheets it’s over for him. Bro is whimpering and moaning, CRYING, TEARS ARE STREAMING, he’s sniffing and stuff asking to cum cause you won’t let him, refused to put his dick in cause he was lowkey being a dick to you ngl- you finally ride him and he’s about to cum but you do before him and get off leaving him all shocked. You give him a kiss on the cheek and say thanks then leave. He’s like

“WHATT???”

And bro spam texts you, calls you, even dming you on Instagram a voice message of hun begging you to come back and help him finish.

But yeah, I love pathetic losers 😔😔😔💔

babe… this was a mini fic in itself. thank u for sharing. will be thinking about this for so long, my additions under the cut :3

these both turned me on i won’t admit but… your detail to roy… oh god. he’s such a fucking loser i NEED to fuck him NOW!!!

can i add? roy’s breath only smells like monster energy drinks, so nasty but you only taste it when his tongue is sucking yours so of course it leaves connotations of yummy-ness! cums all over you and, if he’s feeling nice, throws you a rag while he goes in the shower himself—without an invite of course. poor you :( all left out, naked n bare n cold.

dick would def get pissed if you joined him in the shower. don’t you know he brought you to his dingy apartment to fuck you and be done with you? c’mon now.

but the thought of getting these man whores pussy drunk is just so. oh god. them sending dick pics to you when you haven’t responded, thinking that’ll have to get you to answer. of course they’re wrong, and manipulate you into feeling so bad with how many times they’ve told you that you’ve given them blue balls, you have to fuck them again >:3

anyways! i hope you liked my lil plug!roy drabble, trust i have one too many drafts of roy and dick as plugs.

[darkwingphoenix]

Small Announcements for my @loominggaia Fanfics (Both)

So, as of rn, I've completed Chapter 5 of Becoming Jehovah's Enemy, and I'm planning on adding a few new chapters to Formation of a Kingdom a bit later, because Wynaut

When I do post the new Formation of a Kingdom chapters, it'll be up to when Skylie preps to travel to Serkel and Yerim-Mor.

Small Spoilers: Those new chapters will introduce Marine's kids Capitano, Signora (Before she transitioned, and was named Savign), Columbina and Dottore, who are infants at this time (I can't find my post about them (Tumblr's a terrible place to search but I still love it), but I remember saying Dottore and Columbina were born ~6018-6020, so they'd either be tiny babies or Dottore, the younger one, is still inside Marine, Signora was born maybe a year or two before, and Capitano's right about the same age as Amber).

The reason why they're those ages is because I believe once she became 16, Marine would've taken the first man who wanted her, who turned out to be her husband Aquamarine, who's twice her age at the time they married (32 when she was 16), super toxic (Roughly the same as Door Slav and Dorito Dust, but in that he's a wife beater, a pro gaslighter and managed to manipulate Marine into thinking he's looking out for her like Dorito did to Lily, and only married her because she was a young woman who was willing to bear his kids, and only really loved Capitano, his first born, and literally treated Columbina like total shit due to being a girl).

Sure, not old (In 6036, roughly when the GGW and Evangeline Civil War kick off, they're 21, about 19-20, and 17-18), but enough that I believe they'd be okay.

Therefore, it's likely they will show up in the Evangeline leg of the fic (Or, at least Capitano, as a 3 year old, and Signora, as a 1-ish year old boy. Columbina might appear as Marine's pregnant belly, but IDK yet)

Anyway, I'll sorta hop between each fic as I please, as per usual for me.

However, I am currently doing beta testing for a game I'm in love with, The Sapling. The link is the dev's YouTube channel (Singular, it's being done all by a single guy as a passion project turned awesome game, who does the modeling, music, and design for the game, not to mention being a dad (According to a video or two, I know he is a dad) and actively finding ways to put ideas in for the game).

This is mostly because the beta update I'm testing had me SUPER HYPED since its conception (HORROR AND SEGGS), so I'll be posting less for a bit

[watermelonssmile]

Hey woman-beater, I haven’t posted about you in a very long time!

So they told me you’re saying you’re being mistreated,

You’re saying she’s taking your keys and locking you up, that she's jealous to a crazy degree,

Funny how that's what you did to me!

Are you lying to try and make people pity you? Are you trying to have people forget what you did to me, and to her?

You’re so vicious and manipulative, I wouldn’t be surprised. I didn’t think you could get more pathetic but here you go again…

If it is true however, there’s only one word that comes to mind; karma!

I have found the best relationships I’ve ever had, while you’re getting the shit you deserve.

You will end up bald, bitter and in a pointless job hating on your wife and future kids.

No excuses -> no forgiveness.

It’s easy to understand - but you’re not as smart as I thought you were back then.

Anyways, I got a good laugh when they explained everything to me. So thanks, I guess!

[transmalewife]

Bragging about your arms in the mobility post (thank god youve got a treatment that works btw) any chance we can get an arms pic?

hey sorry I know its been 2 months so there's zero chance you'll see this but 1) I've never bragged about my arms on here and you probably mean the other commenter on that POTS post, and 2) I wanted to post a pic anyway then when i tried to put on my silver chain to complete the white wife-beater and jeans look I was wearing i realised i lost it and got so sad i couldn't even look at this ask

[takecareluv]

a fic based off the song he’s mine by mokenstef?

a.n. i’ve had this song stuck in my head ever since i saw this request. i think i’ve annoyed everyone around me with it haha anyway, i hope you like it! mwah 🤍☺️

sorry but he’s mine || vinnie hacker x reader

after close to a year of being together, you and vinnie finally became public. while some fans were extremely happy for you both, having speculated that you two had been together way before you announced it. others were not too thrilled to see the internet’s boyfriend officially taken of the market.

having been in the public eye for quite some time, you were used to all the hate that came along with it. so the abundance of rude comments that surfaced from the news of your relationship didn’t faze you much. you typically ignored the comment section all together, not even taking note of what a bunch of strangers had to say about you.

what you did notice, however, was the surge of posts, ranging from tiktok videos to twitter threads, showing supposed screenshots of dm’s and text messages between vinnie and the girls who post it.

you mainly ignored them, knowing they were all fake and made by some jealous fans trying to break you and vinnie up.

it was quite sad, you thought, how far these people would go just to ruin a relationship between two people so clearly in love.

but it didn’t really bother you all that much. these girls could muster up all the fake conversations they wanted, at the end of day vinnie was yours, and a silly little post was going to change that.

it wasn’t until you were scrolling through your fyp one afternoon and saw a video of a girl you knew vinnie had a past with trying to make it seem like he was still in love with her, that you got slightly more agitated.

really? now one of his little ex flings not even girlfriend, is trying to break y’all up. when was it going to end? you thought to yourself. can’t these people just let us be happy.

you never wanted to respond publicly to any of the hate, knowing it would just add to the fire, but now you were feeling petty.

vinnie told you all about how horribly this girl treated him, like he was some prize for her use and exploit. how she tried to ruin his career after he finally found the courage to end things with her. and how she continued to harass him months after things were done between them.

with that being said, you were not going to let her get away with the tiktok she made full of lies. especially after reading the plethora of comments believing and supporting her. oh hell no.

one thing about you, is you were protective of the people you loved, especially your boyfriend.

you wanted your response to be subtle. you were a classy bitch after all. you didn’t want to call her out directly, but you wanted to send a message. vinnie is yours and will forever be yours, no matter how hard she tried to split you up.

-

later that night, vinnie returned from the warehouse looking mighty fine in his wife beater and grey sweats. you were instantly on top of him, telling him how good he looked and how much you missed him.

things escalated quickly from there, i mean you couldn’t help it your boyfriend was hot. and an hour and multiple rounds later you laid in bed exhausted and sore.

you were ready to fall asleep, but before you did, you grabbed your phone, pulling up the tiktok app to begin recording a video.

the video showed you and vinnie in bed with nothing but the sheets covering you. you both looked sweaty with messy hair and tired eyes, clearly fucked out. you began lip-syncing to the song that played in the background as vinnie cuddled closer to you, placing a kiss to your neck.

he’s mine.

you may of had him once,

but i got him all the time.

as soon as the you finished recording, you immediately posted it, not bothering to add a caption.

that should get the message across.

[itsjusttoasted]

So Fartlow is out here live posting Johnny's location and encouraging people to harass him.

Sad clown behavior.

But then.

Oh, we shouldn't see this Fartlow? Is that why you retweeted it? Gotta get that Streisand Effect moving?

We shouldn't hear about Amber "I can't fulfill my DONATIONS because I have no money because I'm being sued" Heard moving into a million dollar home?

Probably Mollusk's money tho.

Wait. Hold the fuck up.

Rolling Stones?

Paul McCartney??

As in JOHNNY'S FRIENDS AND SUPPORTERS?!

Make it make sense.

Anyway probably not the reaction Turd was hoping for.

And for the "this is DANGEROUS she has a BABY" crowd:

Funny how nobody ever had concerns about Lily or Jack's safety when Turd and her cronies were calling their dad a wife beater and encouraging violence against Johnny.

[austronauts]

I am returning oh so soon with another ‘director’s commentary’ on a toronto maple leafs video.

as apparently...one of 4.5 justin/mitch truthers (me, justin, mitch, remaining 1.5 = mathematically shoddy amalgamation of the various lovely ppl on here who have come to me to talk about justin and mitch)...i felt like it was My Duty to share my annotated version of this video.

so, this leafs: blueprint episode is ostensibly about justin’s contract renewal but is really ultimately about celebrating justin holl the human.

As a 2nd/3rd line defenseman, Justin is always going to be perceived as an unglamorous “grinder” who’s invisible at best or unfairly maligned at worst. Which is completely unfair, but the reality of the NHL and a team that’s stacked with so many household names.

All this to say - it’s very nice to see him get this homage and the love that I think he deserves. 

ok onto my brainrot annotations

1:11 - oh my GODDD. BABY JUSTIN HOLL from his college years. he is SO SQUISHY-LOOKING IN HIS LITTLE BEANIE. SQUISH HIM SQUISH HIM SQUISH HIM

2:20 - Justin scoring the BUZZER-BEATER GAME WINNING GOAL for the U of Minnesota Gophers (lmfao) in the NCAA playoffs’ final 4. Oh how do I know exactly what game it was? Because MITCH explains this all - reciting exactly when and how Justin scored to - GAS JUSTIN UP in his Marner Assist Foundation promo video.  can you believe mitch. can you believe justin. can you believe them. Anyway, look at the raw unfettered EUPHORIA and pride here all the teammates have for Justin! i TRULY love that for him

3:54 - bruh i didn’t know justin and his wife audrey were HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS. 

4:09 - The video switching to MITCH JUSTIN STEPH AND AUDREY RIGHT AFTER AUDREY SAYS “we found a really good group. a really good crew”????? THE EDITING IS RICH WITH MEANING AND SUBTEXT, MY LADS

4:09 - MITCH SITTING ON JUSTINS LAP AND YAPPING AND GIGGLING WHILE JUSTIN JUST SITS THERE LOOKING LIKE THIS HAPPENS TO HIM EVERYDAY EVEN THOUGH HE DOESN’T EVEN REMEMBER OFFICIALLY ADOPTING THIS SCRUNKLY YORKSHIRE TERRIER WHO KEEPS SHOWING UP AND ASKING HIM WHAT AN ENCYCLOPEDIA IS AND SITTING ON HIS LAP?????????? NO I WONT STOP YELLING SHUT UP

4:12 - audrey speaks about being with justin through all the highs and the lows and all the uncertainty-mired limbo of professional sports with such genuine love here. and as much as my heart is a desiccated cornichon pickle incapable of romance, I DID FEEL A LITTLE SOMETHING HERE. disgusting. i must return to my roots of comparing nathan mackinnon to various pale tumescent root vegetables ugh.  (also justin playing what appears to be a bach piece which is extreme king shit because bach is one of my FAVORITE composers to play on the piano. i always knew justin was my favorite) 

4:57 - another mitch/justin moment on the ice just being giggly beans.

sidenote - everytime i see justin’s dad i remember he wrote a book about bicycling from mexico to alaska and therefore is much cooler than justin or any of the leafs. (there’s a video of justin playing golf with muzzin i think? where justin chirps his own dad for always talking about his own book lmfao)

8:30 - sweet lil willy throwing the leafs’ post-game basketball to justin to celebrate justin’s new contract... and justin attempting to do some kind of...dunking move that is extremely whiteboy cringefail. even though i am watching this thru my laptop screen, i looked away and politely pretended not to see that. 

8:47 - this is now i think...the 2nd leafs video i’ve heard Young Thug/Gunna’s “Hot” in the lockerroom? DO THEY LISTEN TO ANY OTHER SONG? why not a bit of beyonce partition or carly rae jepsen? why not a bit of azealia banks’ 212? 

8:54 - mitch swans by the camera looking as twinky as ever and i SWEAR that’s his reedy ass warbly ass voice singing in falsetto. he’s just ALWAYS. SO. ON. BRAND!

9:30 - Justin and his family and old minnesota friends all gather in the stands after the game to take a commemorative photo in honor of justin’s new NHL contract. GUESS WHO SHOWS UP TO TAKE THE PHOTO OF THIS SPECIAL MOMENT? UR RIGHT. ONE (1) ONTARIAN TWINK MITCH MARNER It’s so........magnanimous and brave of all of them to entrust the immortalization of this special moment in the dainty little hamster paws of mitch tbh. look at him FOCUSING with all 2 of his neurons fdlkjslksls

[nonotnolan]

Could be Worse, Right?

“Hey, wake up.”  Greg paused for a few moments, trying and failing to identify the unfamiliar voice before considering the command that it was giving him.  His head was pounding-- did he really have a headache from the massive house party that his roommate had thrown last night?  Usually they kept the music low enough that the neighbors couldn’t file noise complaints.  “Dude.  Seriously.  Wake up.”  Greg blinked a few times, trying to register why he had fallen asleep in the living room instead of upstairs in his own bedroom.  Or why he was wearing a wife-beater and some shorts.  Or why his arms looked completely wrong.

Greg could feel his chest start to tighten in panic as he examined the changes that had happened over night.  It was almost as if...

“Yeah, yeah.  We changed bodies, dude.  Can we speed this part up already?  I’m meeting up with the guys this afternoon for half-price wings.”

Greg jolted awake, planting his feet onto the floor as he looked over at his own body, staring at him from across the room.  “You... Caleb, what did you do?  Fix this!  Change us back!”

Caleb just stared at him.  “You don’t really think I did this on purpose, do you?  I swear to God, this was the only passable shirt you had in your entire closet.  How many gamer t-shirts does one guy need to have?”

Greg paused, cradling his head in his hands.  It was hard to believe any of this was happening, but at the same time he couldn’t very well disbelieve what he was seeing with his own eyes.  Well, with Caleb’s eyes, anyway.  The hangover he’d gotten stuck with from Caleb’s drinking last night was not helping things.  “Okay, well... if you didn’t do this... how are you so calm?”

“For one thing, I’ve been awake for three hours.  I’ve already had time to freak out about this.  But, mostly... I pissed off Mandy again last night, so I figured something like this was coming.”  Caleb paused, waiting to see Greg’s reaction.  “You know, my girlfriend’s best friend?  The town’s resident Witch bitch?”  Caleb let out an exasperated sigh as Greg shook his head.  “Okay, well-- Mandy’s a witch, and anytime Steph goes running to her with a problem, she decides to fix it with magic instead of talking it out like a reasonable person, because Mandy is a fucking psycho.  Sometimes I wake up with pencil arms, sometimes I wake up like a ken doll... this time I woke up as you.  She probably decided I was being too vain or some shit, I don’t know.  Anyway, this usually wears off after a week or so.  Sorry you got caught up in this shit.”

Greg nodded, trying to listen to what Caleb was saying at the same time as he was exploring the muscles on his new body.  “Yeah, I guess that’s... wait, an entire week?  Are you serious?”

Caleb shrugged.  “It’s not like it’s my fault.  I’ll try to smooth things over with Mandy, but... again.  She’s a bitch.  No clue why Steph is still friends with her.  Look at it this way-- with remote classes, no one will ever know that you’re not in the right body.  Could be worse, right?”

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

“Caleb.  It’s been three weeks.  How much longer is this going to take?”  Greg found himself fidgeting with the tails of his shirt, a habit that he had carried over from his previous life.  He’d been rehearsing this speech for almost a day now, and cornering Caleb in a post-gym exhaustion was going to be his best bet at getting a captive audience.

Caleb threw his keys onto the nearby end table before looking at his roommate.  “Look, I’m working on it.  Mandy keeps getting pissy at me because ‘I am not learning my lesson’ or some shit.  I don’t know what you want me to do about it.”

“I want you to suck up to her,” Greg said.  “Apologize.  Tell her she’s fucking up my life as well as yours.  Something!”

“Tried that,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.  “Besides, are you really getting the short end of the stick, here?  I know you’ve been fucking twinks on the down-low in my body.”

“It- it was just a date!” Greg said, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment.  “And it was just one time!  I made sure to keep it anonymous and everything.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Caleb said, kicking off his shoes under the end table.  “You can have as much sex as you want, just don’t give my body herpes.  It’s not like Steph and I haven’t taken out this dick for a spin.”  He smiled as he grabbed at his bulge, giving Greg an exaggerated wink.

“Caleb, what the fuck!” he said, raising an arm in protest.

Caleb just shook his head.  “Look, I’ve been taking your body to the gym four times a week.  Have you seen the amount of definition you’ve been gaining on your chest and shoulders?  The way I see it, we’re even.  Another week or two, Mandy will get bored, she’ll switch us back, and you’ll get to enjoy these sick new abs.”

“I mean...  Okay, yeah, I appreciate that and all... but you’re just trying to distract me, here.  It’s been three weeks, Caleb!  I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Caleb rolled his eyes.  “Alright, tell you what.  If we’re still in each other’s bodies by next week, I’ll let you fuck me.  Does that sound good?”  He smiled, seeing Greg wrestle with the moral dilemma in his head.  “I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have sex with myself, and I don’t know that I’ll ever get another chance.  And just look at how good your ass looks in these gym shorts, dude.”  Caleb smiled, twisting around to give him a full view of its curves.

“Goddammit, fine,” Greg said, pounding the kitchen counter in anger.  “You’ve got a deal.  One more week.  But that’s it, okay?”

“Scout’s honor,” Caleb said, raising his right hand.

In fact, Mandy had deactivated the body swap spell two weeks ago.  But until one of them wanted to return to their own bodies, both he and Greg would remain swapped.  Caleb certainly wasn’t in any sort of rush to return to his own body.  Steph had developed a crush on his gay roommate, and this was the easiest way to fulfill her fantasies.  They’d had more sex these last three weeks than they’d had in the rest of their five month relationship.  It didn’t hurt that Greg’s nine inch cock exceeded his own average dick.

As long as Greg believed the spell was still active, as long as Greg still had a reason to want to be in Caleb’s body... they would remain swapped.  Could be worse, right?

[wicked-hg]

Empire || o.w.

This is a part of @iliveiloveiwrite​ song fic challenge.

Oliver Wood x reader

Song prompt: Empire by Elle Henderson

Summary: Oliver has an interview with a quidditch reporter who wants to know more about the “quidditch empire” he has built. Oliver reflects on the life he has built with Y/N.

WC: 3.9k

A/N: I am so excited to finally post this! I’ve been working on it for a while and it went longer than I thought it would, but that’s okay. I hope you all enjoy it. Please please please check out the song! I tried to keep it in mind writing this, but overall it is just a fantastic song and one of my favorites. I found the below image when looking for an Oliver Wood gif, and this was so cute!!!! Plus it goes with the story. Italics are the interview.

“Mr. Wood, thank you for sitting down with us,” the reporter greeted. “I know many people are dying to know more about you and your growing quidditch empire.”

“Empire?” Oliver chuckled. “I wouldn’t call what I ‘ave an empire.”

“What would you call it then? You are a renowned quidditch player and now a coach for Puddlemere United. Your wife was a former strategist for the Pride of Portree and is the granddaughter of Kennilworthy Wisp and Devlin Whitehorn. You also have seven children. If that isn’t a quidditch empire, then what is it.”

“Me family,” Oliver answered. “Aye, me wife comes from two great lineages and aye quidditch did bring us together, but I love her for so much more than that. Quidditch was only an excuse to talk to her. It isn’t our relationship.”

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

You had friends at Hogwarts. There were people who enjoyed your company. They were always there to talk quidditch to you, but that was about it. Once you tried switching the subject they suddenly had to go work on homework that had already been turned in. You knew though captains of quidditch teams didn’t lie that they wanted to be your friend. They were straightforward that they wanted your analysis of their team, and the other teams, and what strategies they should use to be successful. Each one came on the same day at the same time like clockwork. Today was Wednesday. That meant Oliver Wood would find her around 6:55. Oliver was the one captain who would seek you out no matter where you were in the castle. You had to always be in the same place for the others. 

The clock chimed 7:00 when Oliver found you today. “You’re five minutes later than normal, Wood,” you commented. 

Oliver shrugged as he sat next to you. “I knew you’d be here, but I wasn’t sure how loud it would be,” Today’s spot was the clock tower. “So I wanted to wait until after the clock rang.”

You sat in silence. Usually you jumped quickly into the quidditch talk, but Oliver sat silently. “You alright, Wood? You’re quiet today. You play Hufflepuff next week if I recall. I wouldn’t really worry about them. They’ve had a devastating losing streak so far. Their beaters aren’t doing well. They’ve been on injury rotation. Fleet also doesn’t have your skills.”

Oliver smiled. “Me skills? You notice I’m quite skilled, Y/N?”

You tried to keep yourself from blushing. Something was different about how he said this. “Of course I do, Wood. I’m Hogwarts residential quidditch analyst.”

“Oliver,” he said. You glanced at him, confused. “Call me Oliver. Not Wood.”

You nodded. “Okay then...Oliver.” Silence washed back over the two of you. “Do you have any other questions? Or do you want info about the new Nimbus? The rest have wanted that.”

Oliver shook his head. “Why don’t you play? Every house goes to you for advice, yet you don’t even play for your own. Why is that?”

No one had ever asked you that. In fact, no one had ever asked any questions about you yourself. “I used to when I was younger with my siblings. I have six older ones.”

“Me too,” Oliver said. “Poppy, Daisy, Juniper, Ivy, Violet, and Flora. They thought I was gon’ be a girl. When it turned out I was a boy, I was named Oliver instead of Olive. That way all they had to do was add an ‘r’ to everything. Sorry for interrupting you. The Weasleys are the only other ones I know with a family of seven siblings.”

You smiled. “It’s alright. Sounds like your family went for a theme.” Oliver nodded. “I think that’s cool. My parents didn’t. I’m the youngest. I have four brothers—Dorian, Finnigan, Simon, and Leon—and two sisters—Evangeline and Benjamina.”

“So you played quidditch with them. Why not anymore?”

“I got hit in the head with a bludger,” you told him. I know that happens a lot to players, but I was about five. Gramps and PopPop were fighting again. They don’t get along at all, and my parents were out celebrating their anniversary. I don’t know why they had those two watching us instead of just picking one. Granny and Nan were trying to calm them down. We were playing quidditch on PopPop’s prototype of the Nimbus 1650.”

“Nimbus 1650? I’ve never heard of that one.”

“That’s because it was never released to the public. It had too many flaws. Anyway, I played seeker. It’s how I learned to analyze patterns besides listening to Gramps. The bludger hit me upside the head and as I fell it hit me again in the jaw. Honestly though, it felt like two hits to the head because my head was the size of a bludger back then. I couldn’t get on a broom after that. I tried. I tried so many times. I just was never able to fly. The brooms wouldn’t listen. Besides, the healer says one more bludger to the head will kill me.”

“We can’t have that then. I’ll get ya on a broom, but I’m not letting ya anywhere near a bludger.” You grinned at his comment. “You belong in the air though. Every time I find you, you're usually high up. The wind will be blowing through your hair soon enough. I promise.”

“You can’t make promises like that, Oliver.”

Oliver shushed you. “Tomorrow. We start tomorrow at this time on the pitch. You’re not meant to be caged, Y/N. Let me help you fly free.”

“What makes you think that you will be the one to do so?” You asked him, trying not to gain any hope from Oliver’s promise. Your family had done everything they could. How could Oliver be successful?

He smiled and grabbed your hand. “I won’t let you fall. I’ll catch you. Do you trust me?”

There was a fire in his eyes now. He had hope he could do this, and you did too. “Absolutely.”

—————

“And what about having seven children? A quidditch team is made up of seven players. One could assume you are breeding your own quidditch team.”

“Well, one can assume all they want. The truth is, life just happened this way. Y/N and I both came from large families; both of us are the youngest of seven. We were fine having that many kids. Just know though there aren’t any more Wood children coming,” Oliver grinned. “And don’t believe that rumor that all of our kids are named after types of wood unknowingly or fun. It was the result of losing a series of bets.”

“What?”

“What?”

The reporter paused in thought. “Oh my Merlin. Your children are all named after types of wood. You did that on purpose? Because of bets?”

Oliver blinked. “No…”

“But you just said—” Oliver stared at the reporter, daring him to continue. “So when did people pick up on it?”

—————

He was so small. Granted, Rowan and Willow had been too. Perhaps he was bigger than them though. He was definitely louder. “He’s got quite the lungs to him,” you murmured to Oliver as you handed him your new son. “Rowan and Willow were quiet and pensive. He’s loud and ready to fight. Has been since the womb. Hopefully the bruises will go away now.”

This third babe had been a handful—constantly moving and kicking the bruises actually began to appear on your abdomen. “Reckon he’ll be a beater if he plays some day,” You chuckled in agreement with your husband. “Hello there, Al. Glad you’re finally here. Your brother and sister are so excited to meet you.”

“Al,” you sighed lovingly, “I like it. Al Wood. Is it short for anything?”

“Alder.”

“Alder. That’s nice,” Silence washed over the room until your eyes flew open. “Alder? Did you just say Alder? As in the tree? Oliver, is our son named Alder Wood?”

“Yes…”

“Rowan and Willow are going to ma—” Realization hit you. “Rowan and Willow. Rowan Wood. Willow Wood. Oliver Wood, are our children named after types of trees? Have you named our children after types of trees when I am in a state of fatigue after birthing them?”

“Yes and no,” he replied. He carefully held the newborn close to his chest. “All of these names I suggested to you when we discussed it, and you liked them. I just suggested them in a different light. Rowan is a good Scottish name, and Willow is an old English name and a well respected magical tree. Alder...I don’t think I ever did mention Alder to you. I was hoping to get away with that one.”

You reached for your son. Looking down at him, you couldn’t imagine him being named anything else. “I can’t imagine him being anything else now. If we have more children, we will discuss this first. I just didn’t realize you so desperately wanted a theme. I thought you hated the name theming after your parents have done it to you and your sisters.”

“I do!” Oliver argued. 

“Then why name our children after types of wood and trees?”

Oliver sighed. He knew there was no lying to you anymore. “I lost a bet back in Hogwarts to Weasley.”

You sighed. “I’m gonna yell at George when I get out of here. I can’t imagine our children being named anything different now, but still. I don’t care if it was his or Fred’s fault.”

“Actually it was Percy.”

—————

“You were married right before hell broke loose in the Second Great Wizarding War, and if I recall you even participated in it.”

“Aye. I did. Many witches and wizards in the league did once it got shut down in ‘97.”“Did this affect you and your wife?”

“Of course it did. It affected everyone. Plus we were still young and so was Rowan.”

“Rowan?”

“Me eldest boy. How did you not know that? I would’ve thought you’d know the names of me kids the way you’ve been going on.”

The reporter shrugged as he jotted this all down in his notebook. 

——————

Oliver had done what he could to help the light in the war, but his priority was his family. He had a wife and a son now. His wife was also expecting their second child. He laid down next to his wife. “Rowan’s fast asleep,” he whispered. “He went down quickly tonight.”

You smiled as you snuggled into him. “She’s being quiet tonight too.”

He smiled and glanced down at your protruding belly. “How do you know it’s a she?”

“I just do,” You were quiet for a moment before asking, “Oliver, do you ever regret how we did things?”

Everything was on track for you and Oliver when you graduated. You had both taken big jobs in the world of quidditch. You were young and everyone knew your names. Then in the late spring of 1995 you found out a baby was on the way. Rowan was born that December. A year and a half later you two finally got married in the early summer of 1997. Now in May of 1998 you were almost 8 months pregnant with the second baby Wood.

“I will never ever regret us or our kids,” he told you. “This is I guess just how it was meant to be. Do I wish that the world was safer for them? Absolutely. I wish we would’ve had more time to fight to give them a better world. I will do anything to make sure they don’t live under these conditions. I hope every day that Rowan doesn’t remember living in a time of such fear and chaos.”

“I am terrified, Olli,” you admitted.

“Me too,” he agreed, “But I will always be here to protect you. No one will destroy what we have created.” 

Hours later he was summoned to Hogwarts for one last battle. You waited for him to return. When Rowan woke, you acted as if everything was normal. “Daddy just had to go take care of some business,” you told Rowan when he asked about Oliver. An owl from St Mungo’s arrived close to bedtime. You flooed your mother to stay with your son as you rush to the hospital. Oliver, with his confunded eye, grinned at you. He had a gash on his forehead and was covered in dirt, yet he smiled because they had won.

——————

“So did helping in the war aid your career at all?”

“That’s a stupid question.”

“I just didn’t know if it helped your skills.”

“My skills are and were fine both prior and after the war.”

—————

“Sweetheart, I think you need to get your sight checked out,” You told Oliver one morning before he headed off to practice. “You’re missing more shots on your right, even though you’re right handed. People are starting to pick up on that.”

“I still catch the quaffle,” Oliver muttered. “That’s what matters.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t. I’m just saying your reaction time is slower and more have been slipping through. You know, as an analyst for an opposing team I shouldn’t even be telling you this.”

Oliver sighed. “That’s the eye.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh. I forgot it was the right one. I thought you got it healed?”

During the Battle of Hogwarts, Oliver had taken a confundus charm to the eye. For a while his eye was completely confounded and unable to focus. Eventually the healers were able to resituate it back to normal; however, Oliver’s vision had not quite yet returned back to normal.

“It can still get a bit blurry and spinny.”

“You need to talk to the coaches, Oliver. That can be a danger for you,” you said. You wrapped your arms around him. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I know you will overcome this and learn to play with it, but I need you safe. You have a family to come home to.”

Oliver nodded and hugged you. “I promise, leannan. I promise.”

—————

“Was there ever tension or conflict when you played the Pride?”

Oliver shrugged. “Y/N and I had a deal. We would note interfere between Puddlemere and the Pride of Portree. Teams have multiple strategists, and while, aye, she was their main one there were others to take care of handling strategies against Puddlemere. As for me, in my entire career, I never played a game against them—even after she retired and took over the broom business. The main keeper during my early years and reserve in my later years always played.”

“Seriously? Not even after she retired? You could’ve. It would’ve just furthered your career.”

“Perhaps, but I also knew that if I did it would make me wife choose between her husband and the team she grew to love. I couldn’t do that to her. Plus it kept me in shape.”

————

You saw Oliver walk down the stairs carrying your newborn girls and Al clinging to his back. “I thought you had a game today,” you asked as he set Al down and tried to put Holly and Hazel into the highchairs. Rowan and Willow followed behind them.

“”Play quidditch, daddy?” Willow asked. “We go watch a game?”

“Puddlemere plays Portree today. I never play against them.” Oliver sat down and started to feed the twins breakfast.

“But, Oliver,” you said confused, “That was when I worked for them. I don’t work for them anymore. You can play if you want to.”

He shook his head. “Today is for us.”

“Us? Like you and mum or the whole family?” Rowan asked.“

The whole family,” Oliver answered. “I’ve gone this long not playing Portree. No reason to start now. Besides, the team means so much to you, Y/N. I can’t put you between them and me. It’ll be a good day for us all to hang out too. Be a proper family.”

You smiled as you set the rest of breakfast in front of your children and helped Al get his food while WIllow and Rowan snatched theirs up. “That actually sounds amazing. Thank you, Oliver. Anything in mind for us to do today?”

“Perhaps the beach? The sun is out for once.”

“You just want to even out your tan line,” Rowan chuckled. Oliver glared at his son, knowing he was absolutely correct.

————

“You could’ve had another few years to your career. Why did you retire? Your retirement came before your predecessor’s exit.”

Oliver thought for a moment, wondering if he should tell the whole truth. “I was a father to six. I had just found out Reed was going to be born—“

“Is Reed your sixth kid?”

“No he’s the seventh and final.”

“Can you tell me who all your kids are. I’m getting them confused.”

Oliver huffed. “In order there is: Rowan, Willow, Alder, we call him Al, the twins, Holly and Hazel, followed by Ash, and ending with Reed.”

“One more time.”

Oliver sighed. He couldn’t take much more of this. “Rowan, Willow, Alder, Holly, Hazel, Ash, and Reed.”

The reporter finished writing those down. “Got it.”

“As I was saying, I had just found out my youngest child was on the way and I had also found out some other news.”

————

“Pregnant?”

You nodded. “I know we hadn’t planned this. It’s kid number seven,” You sat down next to him. “Oh Merlin, it’ll be our seventh child. We’re going to have a full team, Oliver. Al starts Hogwarts next year. Willow is starting her second year this year. Rowan takes his OWLS this year! The twins just started nursery school. Ash is finally no longer scared of the loo.”

“I’m going to retire,” Oliver said suddenly.

“What?” you gasped. “Oliver, darling, you don’t need to do that. Dorian and I run PopPop’s business just fine. You don’t need to give up your career. We support you. I support you.”

Oliver kissed your cheek and rested his hand against your stomach. “I’m almost 40, Y/N. I’ve been missing goals at practice for a while. Coach sent me to a healer during practice. There’s no more quidditch for me. Too many bludgers to the head. We make quite the pair. They found that part of my brain is swollen. I have to have treatment for a few more weeks and I’ll be good as new.”

You threw your arms around him and held him close. “Oh Oliver. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Didn’t want you to worry. I didn’t want you to act differently in front of the kids. I found out all the details today though. I’m telling Coach tomorrow.”

“I can’t believe you have to do this, Oliver.”

He smiled and kissed your forehead. “I’m getting old anyway. This was going to happen eventually. I missed parts of my kids' lives because of quidditch. No more of that.”

“They’ll be heartbroken, you know.”

Oliver nodded. “What about you?”

“I just want you safe and happy. I will always support your choice. I can’t lose you, Oliver. You’re silly to think I’d ever let you near a bludger again now.”

Oliver chuckled remembering his promise to you all those years ago. “Poor Al. No more bludgers for the Woods. We’re gonna need to find a place to send him.”

“I ran into an old classmate of ours. She’s married to Marcus Fli—”

“I’m not sending me son to play with a bludger at Marcus Flint’s place! I’d rather take him to Weasley!”

————

Oliver watched the reporter go with a smile on his face. That was the last one. He couldn’t handle continuously doing those. His agent was right; he just needed to write a damn book. 

“Is the reporter done?”

Oliver turned and his smile became a grin as he kissed you. “Aye. Thank Merlin too. That was an imbecile. I’m gonna have to write that book so I don’t have to deal with any more of them.”

You grinned and hugged him. “I told you so. Come on now, sweetheart. They’re all waiting for you.”

“Can you believe Al is off to Hogwarts tomorrow?”

You shook your head as you snuggled into him. “That leaves us with four though. We’re not quite at an empty nest, Oliver.”

“I know. It’s just,” Oliver paused. “As I answered questions I just thought back to different moments in our life. Did you ever think we’d get here? That we’d build this...this...this empire of ours?”

You smiled. “I always hoped. I couldn’t imagine living my life with anyone else. Though our life is full of quidditch, in so, so many ways, you still made sure it was about so much more than that. Now come Oliver. Our little empire is ready to eat dinner.”

————---------

“Are we almost there?” You asked Oliver. “I feel like we’ve been walking forever. Why couldn’t we have just apparated?”

Oliver chuckled as he gripped your hand tighter to make sure he didn’t lose you as you climbed higher on the hill. “That would ruin the magic of it all, leannan.”

“Can you give me any clues, Oliver? Besides the fact it must be a decent spot for a picnic,” You glanced down at the picnic basket in your hand. When Oliver had invited you to his home, you were excited. Never before had you been to his family home in the highlands. You had met his family at his sisters’ homes. “You know the only thing I know about the highlands is that you are from here, and you don’t even live here anymore!”

“We’re almost there anyway,” he answered. “This is a place me dad took me mum when they were like us. When I told them about you, he brought me in case you were my gu bràth. We’re in the midst of Loch Katrine. It can be a popular place for muggle photographers to come take photos but they’re quite intimidated by this mountain, thanks to magic.”

Oliver helped you climb up a few more meters. You saw the giant grin on his face. This must be someplace special. He was just as excited as if they were about to jump right into a game of quidditch. You set the basket down and felt his hand squeeze yours. “Look at it, leannan. It’s beautiful.”

Finally you turned to join him, and he wasn’t wrong The area of Loch Katrine was gorgeous as the leaves had started to change. “This is beautiful, Oliver. It is absolutely gorgeous here.”

His smile grew and he pulled you closer. Your head rested on his chest and listened to the sound of his beating heart. Afterwhile he whispered, “I have found strength in your arms. We have built the foundation for an amazing love, and you will always rule my heart. Nobody can or will ever destroy what we have.”

You burrowed closer into his chest and felt his arms wrap around you more. Oliver had always been a ray of hope, and you knew he would continue to be one for you. You knew, you could feel your relationship growing in many ways at that moment. You hoped to Merlin, as you looked across the Scottish highlands in the arms of the man you loved, that someday you would build an indestructible empire with him. It is what you both deserved.

[ontheblock]

it’s my mental illness and i get to chose which character is vent through❗️❗️anyway, i have been struggling with writing the ending of the second part of my latest patrick hockstetter request and since this has been sitting in my notes for a hot minute, i decided to post it. enjoy this little story absolutely nobody asked for<3

night terrors

no warnings ig- maybe alcohol

Summer never really was plagued by night terrors the way Morty was haunted by them. Whenever she did have a bad dream as a little girl, her parents let her cry it out unless she came to their room themselves. The rare times someone did come over was when Beth was blackout drunk and Jerry followed the soft wailing of his daughter to pet her head while he listened to her sob story of a nightmare. It never helped that Jerry basically coddled baby Morty whenever he woke up - a desperate attempt to even out the neglectful way they treated her first child because they were kids themselves. But all of Jerry‘s attempts were fruitless. Summer heard Morty whine and whimper almost every night through the drywall, even more so since Rick arrived. It was ironic for her to turn out fine with her mother’s neglectful ways. Jerry should’ve maybe considered listening to Beth more with Morty. Or maybe it was meant to be like this. Poor fucker. If his nightmares didn’t take form of bullies anymore it was definitely the looming danger of acid drooling monsters or aliens smart enough to conquer their planet if a self-proclaimed god in a lab coat fucked with them. Yeah, that sounded terrifying for a child. Or maybe the thing he feared most was more simple and childish - their grandfather who took out threats like that for breakfast. But tonight wasn’t a night like that. Summer didn’t wake up from Morty hitting his bedroom wall out of reflex. It was some faceless nightmare of her own that sent her lurching upright with a struggle for air. Whatever it was, she didn’t remember much aside from Jerry‘s face and a leathery hand reaching for her out of the black abyss surrounding her but she felt the aftermath of a sprinting heart and sweat sticking her tank top to her back. Her throat was dry enough to make her reach out to her empty bedside table. She never put a glass of water by her bed, but then again she never needed it.

Swiping back a stray hair, Summer pushed her blanket off to stand up on wobbly legs. She made her way over to the door, stepping over the creaky floorboard. The hallway was quiet but as she crept down the stairs, Summer noticed the flickering lights of the TV pouring out the living room. She had half the mind to blackmail Morty about watching TV on a school night but she definitely kept the info in the back of her mind for tomorrow’s breakfast as she avoided more creaky floorboards on her way to the kitchen. The moron even turned down the volume.

"Morty, I swear to god. Your nightly water trips are getting on my- on my last nerve."

Summer blinked once, twice to place the voice. The distinct alcoholic slur and the audible frown was familiar to her even in a sleepy state. And surely, it was Rick. Shuffling closer, Summer could peek over the couch‘s back to see her grandpa lounging in his oil stained wife beater, tinkering with a cube shaped hunk of metal. Like this she could see his hands at work, talented fingers coaxing loosened screws into their threads. He hissed a low "me cago en tu madre" when the phillips head slipped from the screw he was working on. Summer could make out the blue mesh of veins under the withered skin on the back of his hand. Rick really did have the hands of a worker - a mechanic or construction worker. They looked nothing like the office worker hands of Jerry, if he had even that. He seemed to sense her presence - if that was even possible - because his head turned to look at who he assumed to be Morty.

"Summer? What the fuck are you doing here?"

What was she doing here? She came for a glass of water but her throat was less parched now and something about her mysterious grandpa reeled her in like a damn fish. She took her bait and ran her clammy palm over the couch cushion by her grandpa‘s neck. "I woke up, obviously. I had a nightmare. No big deal." Her eyes pointedly stayed on Rick‘s hand holding a screwdriver or the coffee table with half a bottle of whiskey standing next to Rick‘s feet that he casually propped up onto the wood but she never met his gaze. Why was she even this honest? She could make some kind of excuse but it’s been months since her family showed interest in what she was doing. "Nightmare, huh?" Rick echoed her as if to taste the word on the tip of his tongue. Summer wondered if he had nightmares sometimes. She nodded, eyes finally flickering to his face. The TV casted lights and shadows on his old features. Right now he looked normal, not like that crazy scientist with a mean silver tongue that intimidated her the first time they met at the breakfast table. Summer was used to see the hollow green glow following Rick like a fucked up halo or even the zapping blue rays from devices that can both end and create wars. But now the angular features showed a different side. The soft studio lights of some late night show made him look like a regular addition to the family and it helped Summer release her tense shoulders for the first time in a while, like she didn‘t need to be sarcastic or indifferent all the time. A little voice in the back of her head told her that Morty could be his awkward idiotic self so why couldn’t she?

"Why are you up, grandpa?" She leaned her front against the couch back and kept her voice down just in case Morty did wake up again. "I‘m - bergh - well over the age of bed times. This piece of shit is m-more important." Rick averted his gaze and waved the cube in his hand. Summer hummed and reached for it only to have Rick shuffle it to his other hand and hold it out of reach. "Well, what is it? Can it, like, cause mass destruction or something? Or does it contain a totally freaky virus? Or—" Rick shushed his granddaughter and tossed the cube on the coffee table. "Calm your tits, Summer. It‘s- It‘s to cure Granorian crystals. The, the, the-" Rick rotated his hand as if to underline his search for the most simple explanation "-easiest planet to harvest them happens to have the most impure growth." His hand fell into his lap, the other one snatching the whiskey from the table. "You should go to bed. It’s Tuesday." Summer snorted but it sounded off. "Since when are you the responsible grandparent?"

"I‘m not." His gaze locked on the TV again and he knocked back a sip or two of liquor. "Just thought I get one night free of my annoying grandkids." Ouch. Rick delivered both praise and insults in the same gruff tone - not that he had many kind words to spare, save for Beth when he needed to get his way. "What do you need them for? Can’t you just get, yknow, earth crystals?" Rick belched after a deep gulp from the bottle and dismissively waved his free hand in Summer‘s general direction. "Don’t think about it. Do me- just do us a solid; go back to bed, Summer." Rick expected a bit of huffing and a snarky comment before Summer relented and went back upstairs but he saw her unmoving in his peripheral vision. Summer stared down at the couch cushion‘s seam as if it told her whatever kind of questions were important to a girl her age. Probably if that one guy in school liked her or not. Her fingers rubbed over a stain that looked like red wine her mother spilled last Christmas. "I don’t want to. It’s not like I can go back to sleep anyway. Not- It‘s not because of the dream or anything. Just-" Summer stumbled over her words to find any excuse that would save her the embarrassment of admitting she was a little scared to go back to sleep again. She bit the inside of her cheek when Rick cut her off with a long groan. "You really are Jerry‘s kid. You‘re- Y-You know dreams are just- bullshit hallucinatory experiences aaaaall the way up the hippocampus? It’s not- It’s imaginary, Summer. Just your dummy ape brain processing a bunch of shit while you’re asleep." Rick‘s tone was agitated while he gesticulated but he still scooted closer to the left, ultimately creating more space on the couch. Summer didn’t know where dreams came from, she wasn’t interested in it either but she silently rounded the couch to sit down next to her grandfather. Being this close, she would smell the faint whiskey breath and the Old Spice lingering around her. It was nice for once, calming even. "You know, I‘m not staying because I’m scared because that’s totally lame." Rick just grunted in some kind of indifferent agreement but Summer felt the need to clarify her decision even more. "I mean, it’s just a dream. I‘m not a loser like Morty. I don’t piss my own bed. That‘d be totally— gross." Summer turned back to Rick, fully expecting him to not even pay her any mind but when they locked eyes Summer finally shut her mouth. She never saw a look like this one on Rick‘s face. Not even around Morty - who was quite obviously his favorite grandchild and Summer reminded herself that she didn’t care about that.

Right now Rick‘s withered features looked almost soft even though the hard lines on his face didn’t even out at all. Maybe his resting face just looked mean like that - maybe he was frowning for so long that it became the default for Rick. But still, he looked almost fatherly. Summer‘s pathetic little attempt to look tough in front of the most powerful man she knew stirred something dead in his ribcage.

He remembered a tiny Beth sneaking into their old kitchen where Rick was fixing a leak in the sink. A single glance at his wrist watch told him it was time for Beth‘s nap because if Diane didn’t make her take one Beth would be tired and grumpy all evening. He tried to shoo her back to her room but only got a tantrum out of his daughter until he reluctantly set his task aside and laid down on the living room couch with Beth resting on his chest until Diane came back with their groceries.

"Yeah, sure. What - uhrp - Whatever." Rick looked back at the TV and Summer fell into his silence, her back sinking into the soft cushions. She barely followed the plot of whatever Rick was watching. It looked like some 70s war movie with bad explosions and subpar camera quality. Rick didn’t seem to be the type for nostalgia so it probably just happened to be on at this time of night. The dull colors made her lashes feel heavy again and she let her eyes roam the coffee table Rick still used as his footrest. The cube laid by his foot, forgotten until Rick needed to purify his drugs alien crystals. The whisky bottled left a wet little spot on the wood that she knew Rick wouldn’t wipe away. Jerry wanted to replace the table for a week now. Morty‘s latest comics were scattered on the other side of the table. He always left them in the living room because the idiot just has to get distracted two pages in. An unfamiliar pack of Newport Reds Non-Menthol caught her eye and Summer took a quick glance at Rick. If he noticed, he ignored it. Rick did always have the remnants of cigarette smoke on him but Summer never seen him with one before. There was probably a lot that Summer didn‘t know about her grandpa. She wondered how much her mom really knew about him.

The movie crept close to its finale when a warm weight sank onto Rick‘s thigh. He lowered the bottle from his chapped lips to find soft ginger hair draped over his khaki pants. He went still for a moment with his granddaughter‘s head on his lap. This was territory he hadn’t wet his toes in for decades. Rick wasn’t a stranger to the warmth of another body but this was tender and innocent, enough to take him back in time. He downed the last of his whiskey in one gulp and indulged in the hot rush that followed. The credits rolled on the screen while the bottle neck dangled from his bony fingers.

"How drunk are you right now?"

Rick hummed as if he was doing the math in his head before answering. "Wasted." He put the empty bottle on the fuzzy carpet and shimmied his feet off the table without disturbing Summer in her position. Not that he would admit that.

"So in the morning this didn’t happen?"

Rick took his sweet ass time eyeing Summer and weighing out an answer before he gave a low "yeah, Sum-Sum" and looking back at whatever commercial was on. If Rick ever was good at anything it had to be pretending. He could pretend for Summer just this once too.

[casgirl]

Tumblr user casgirl, here is my uncensored opinion on you: very brave for your PUBLIC positive opinion on twist and shout (you’re right of course), objectively one of the best urls in the desticule, insanely original for the lions thing (please do it again sometime i was having a ball on this bitch and i wasn’t even the one getting asks), some of the best spn takes ive never disagreed with one of your posts. However, if I’m not mistaken you actually like a streetcar named desire, and i just can’t abide this. Sister whose husband is a wife beater calls the mental institution on her sister who so desperately believes she needs a man to take care of her that she hallucinates the ultimate male hero complex fantasy?? No thanks. I truly HATED my high school English teacher who first made me read this so maybe I’m biased… Anyway I’m sorry this turned into ASND hate do you still think I’m hot?

No sorry I have to weigh in on this one are you CRAZY??? It’s a GOOD play. Are you like one of those people who is like the great gatsby romanticizes shallow rich people??? Do you think Romeo and Juliet condones generational blood feuds??? Fahrenheit 451 was about how fucking cool burning books is?? 1984 is a glowing endorsement of fascism!??? Girl READING COMPREHENSION

[marmosa]

hello 💕 i've just gone through your entire fred weasley and i absolutely love your writing and especially your dialogues, they feel v authentic and real xx i read that you have requests open so i'll leave you with an idea from my v detailed v self indulgent daydream cinematic universe starring fred weasley— post war (say a couple of years after) fred is the owner and manager of the hogsmead branch of the joke shop and sneaks into hogwarts to meet his fiancé, newly hired transfiguration (1/2)

thank you so much for the kind words and reading all my writing, i can’t begin to describe how much that means to me! i love the idea of fred sneaking into the castle to see his significant other, it’s so cute, i had to run a lap around my room just thinking about it. also in this house fred weasley never d worded, if you think he did, no he didn’t. also also, it got kinda sad at the end and i’m sorry, i didn’t mean for that to happen i- but anyways, hope you like it and thank you again for the compliment <3

word count: 1.6k

***

“Hey!”

Tink!

“Hey!”

Tink!

[y/n] looked up from the stack of papers arrayed on her desk and glanced around her study for the source of the noise, absolutely bewildered at who would possibly be bothering her at this hour. She prayed it wasn’t a student messing around with her, for she may have been a relatively new teacher but she wasn’t afraid to stand her ground against misbehaving kids.

The sound came again and this time she saw who it was her face lighting up before falling down as she scurried over to the window, unlatching the glass and pushing it open to find her fiancé sitting all high and mighty on his broom like this was a normal everyday occurrence.

“Fred Weasley! What in God’s name are you doing outside of my window? Why are you throwing stones at glass? Do you have any idea how high up I am?” She hissed, reaching for him, despite knowing full well he could only enter the room on his own accord.

He flew closer to the window and balanced himself on the ledge before grabbing her hand and hopping down onto the floor a giddy smile plastered on his lips, “I’m aware how high up this is, lest you forget I was one of the best Gryffindor beaters this school has ever seen.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You do realize you could just come in through the front doors right? McGonagall isn’t going to smite you down for visiting your fiancée,” she deadpanned, latching the window back shut.

“Whatever? If I recall correctly, me being on the quidditch team all those years back had you absolutely smitten, or am I wrong,” he retorted smugly, completely brushing past her statement about walking through the front doors.

[y/n]’s face fell into one of embarrassment as she pushed past him back to her desk, not wanting to fuel his ego any more than she usually did, “Even so, you still can’t be sneaking onto campus. Especially during school hours, you know how it is, I would rather you be turned away at the door than get escorted out by the collar of your robes.”

“But it’s always school hours! Honestly [y/l/n], your new position has really given you a stick up the arse,” He grumbled, leaning back against one of the desks across from hers.

“[y/l/n]?” She repeated, offense written all over her face. Despite not taking it to heart she decided to mess with him a bit for being so stubborn.

Fred’s face fell and he was quick to rush over and apologize, “You know that’s not what I meant! Technically you’re not a Weasley anyway until the paperwork is done legally, so I’m not wrong.”

“I’m telling Molly you said that and she’s going to ground you just like she did 6th year when you got caught nicking something from Filche’s office,” [y/n] pouted, sinking into her chair and crossing her arms.

“You’re terrible you know that,” Fred deadpanned grabbing her cheeks in his hands, “don’t you say a word to my mother or she’ll make me bake you a cake or something.”

“I would quite like that actually, maybe I will tell her,” she replied, biting back a smile.

“Oh, come on! You know George was the one who got all the baking skills! That’s why he’s in charge of all the candy at our shops!” Fred whined, squeezing her face together slightly to try and return the teasing.

“Even if it turned out burnt and gross, I’d still like it because you made it,” she stated plainly, leaning up to try and snatch a kiss.

“Rubbish,” He replied, indulging her and accepting the kiss, smiling down at her when she beamed up at him.

“Whatever you say Freddie, y’know-,”

“Mrs. Weasley? Are you here? I had a question for you.”

All the color drained out of Fred’s face as he recognized McGonagall’s voice from across the room, [y/n]’s features mirroring the same horror as she pushed him off her and shoved him under her desk so he was as out of sight as she could make him.

“Yes- yes! I’m here Minerva, how can I help you?” [y/n] stuttered out, sliding her chair in as far as she could without injuring her soon to be husband.

“Well, I wanted to ask how the preparations were coming along for the annual Christmas Ball? I know you’ve been kept busy with recent exams, but the plans are top priority if we want to keep the spectacular turn out of our ball the same,” McGonagall explained walking up to her desk.

“Oh! The plans are coming along just fine, I haven’t quite finished drafting them up yet, but as soon as I do I’ll have them brought to you right away for approval,”  [y/n] assured her, trying her best not to let on how nervous she now was, trying not to get Fred caught.

“Spectacular! And I expect to see you down in the Hall later? Professors have to arrive early today for some announcement preparation,” McGonagall continued, thankfully still unaware of the hidden person in the room.

“Of course, thank you for letting me know ahead of time,” [y/n] nodded, pretending to assort some papers on her desk.

“Lovely,” McGonagall smiled, heading out of the room, but stopping before she exited the room, “Oh, and tell Mr. Weasley that I say hello, he’s been rather quiet about his surprise appearances to our school recently.”

“Will do!” [y/n] called after her, releasing a breath she didn’t even know she was holding in as soon as the door shut.

“Okay, how come you get to call her Minerva?” Fred complained, crawling out from under the desk, no visible panic at McGonagall’s leaving statement.

“All professors do. Besides, you’re a trouble-maker in her eyes, a darling, but a trouble-maker, she wouldn’t dream of giving you that kind of power,” [y/n] giggled, reaching up to rearrange his  ruffled hair, as he’d decided to grow it out again once he’d graduated.

“Trouble-maker,” Fred muttered, rolling his eyes, “Well she’ll be seeing a lot more of me whether she likes it or not, so I’ll win that privilege, eventually.”

“Whatever you say darling,” she hummed, scooting back in to continue grading her papers.

“You’re ignoring me already?” he groaned, letting his chin rest on the top of her head, arms slinging over her shoulders.

“I’ve got work to do Fred, I’m a professor now. I’m surprised you even had time to visit me, you’re a business owner now after all, it always amazes me how you have the time for these spontaneous visits- not that I don’t appreciate them,” she assured him, setting down her pen and squeezing his hands.

“I own the business, so I get to make my hours, unlike you,” he replied, moving his head so he was peeking over her shoulder.

“Is that supposed to be bad?” she quipped, leaning her head against his shoulder so she could kind of see him.

“Bad for me! I miss you! You’re here far too much,” Fred mumbled, intertwining their fingers.

“Well winter vacation is coming up soon, so you’ll be seeing much more of me. Hopefully you don’t get too sick of me,” she giggled, pursing her lips when he passed her a suggestive grin, “Ah, don’t look at me like that, that is not what I meant.”

“But it is and you know it darling,” Fred hummed, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Don’t get too cocky or I’ll come up with extra work to keep me here,” she warned, a teasing lilt to her threat.

“You wouldn’t. Besides even if you did, I’d kidnap you against your will. Also you wouldn’t hurt Molly like that, she always expects you for family festivities,” he replied simply, knowing she would never pass up an opportunity to spend time with him.  

“You’ve got me there. You know me so well,” she sighed, reaching back so she could toy with the hair at the nap of his neck.

“I’d hope I know you well, you’re about to be my wife,” he chuckled, shutting his eyes at the sensation of her soft fingers against his skin.

“Touché, love, touché,” she hummed in agreement, her free hand twisting the engagement ring situated on his finger.

“Anyways, I should probably leave you to it, with your boring paperwork and grading and all,” he sighed, standing tall, her hands sliding away from him and into her lap.

“It’s not boring,” she frowned, crossing her arms across her chest defensively, trying not to cave but ultimately failing when he gave her a raised brow, “okay, maybe it’s a little boring.”  

“I knew it. No worries darling, I know you love it here, I’m only teasing. See you soon though?” He mused, brushing a stray hair out of her face.

“See you soon,” she replied, grabbing his face and pulling him down for a sweet kiss, relishing in one another’s company for their limited time together.

“Farewell my love,” he announced, grabbing his broom and pushing himself onto the window sill, “see you around.”

“Fred wait!”

He laxed the position of his broom and turned around, an adoring smile stretching onto his lips as she pulled him for one last sweet kiss, placing a small object in his hand.

“What’s this?” he asked as she peppered a few last kisses around his face, trying not to let her emotions get the best of her.

“It’s the locket you gave me, I finally put a picture in it, thought it was time to return it to you,” she smiled, stroking his cheek lovingly.

“You’re astounding,” he muttered, tucking the charm in his pocket, “I love you.”

“I love you too, bye Freddie,” she waved as he kissed her softly once more and took off into the setting sun, “see you soon.”