#but i had made a declaration and so i stuck to my guns

[danderria]

And that's it for my Dungeons and Daddies in The Sims 4 project! This was a blast. I hope you had fun, I know I did

You can find all the families on the Sims 4 gallery with my Gallery ID danderria or #dndadssims4!

If anyone's wondering about the Season 3 characters... They also exist, just not in The Sims 4... Stay tuned for the next six days! I think Matt would enjoy them 👀

Thank you again to the DNDADS fan creators out there. I truly would not have been able to complete this project without your works for inspiration

Check out all characters in this project here

[ilovetoxicfictionalmen]

WHIPPED

Pairing - Tommy Shelby x fem!reader

Summary - You strain from your husband who will not give you attention. He doesn't like that.

Warnings - NONCON, domestic violence, dub con, manipulative, belt whipping, spanking, tommy is mean, degrading words, breeding kink.

Word count - 3k+

Notes - You voted, you received.

Something in Tommy’s intellect changed overnight. Every once in a while, his mind would travel back in time to the war. But now, when he awoke from his nightmares, he still felt like he was crawling through the tunnels. The hairs on the back of his neck stuck up more frequently, his hand rested on his gun a lot. Feeling too skeptical that he’d need to fire it at any second. 

It had impacted your newly wedded marriage, but you didn’t dare to say anything to him. You showed you cared by holding him a little tighter at night. Whilst he laid on the bed like a stone figure, staring up into the ceiling as he refused to fall asleep. 

The sex had turned emotionless like flowers dying without water. The intimacy was dead. It made you down in the mouth and filled your heart with despair. You only wanted to kiss him, talk to him, be held by him. But he had forgotten who you were. 

Over the weeks, your sadness turned into anger. You refused to be upset by his neglect any longer. So, you found other ways to find pleasure in your life and quickly realized that the only way to get your husband’s attention was jealousy. It frustrated Tommy when you started to ignore his presence, venture out without informing him and associating with his family more than him. Tommy would lecture you, wagging his finger at you. You’d only simply nod your head, awaiting for it to be over. Then it would repeat all over again. But Tommy’s mind was too caught up in his business to find the time to truly teach you a lesson. 

Until now, the surprisingly last straw was Arthur whispering something into your ear, resulting in you playfully slapping his shoulder and giggling like a teenager. Tommy’s head snapped to you two, everyone in the reading room still watching Tommy as he awaited for you to acknowledge him. 

After a pause, you finally looked up to Tommy and the stare off commenced. Your eyebrows were furrowed as Tommy’s eyes twitched, he knew you had never been unfaithful. But his mind was now racing with thoughts of the possibility occurring if he didn’t put a stop to his behavior.  

“Well, we will have a break. It seems that my wife has forgotten her manners and I must reteach them…” Tommy declared confidently as he lit another cigarette between his cold lips. 

All heads snapped towards you and Arthur’s face turned beet red. 

“Thomas” you sighed as you pressed your hand to your forehead, cheeks turning a shade darker from embarrassment. 

Any other time, Tommy adored it when you called him by his full name. But this time, he felt as if you were challenging him, trying to humiliate him in front of his family. Tommy took three large strides towards the door and motioned for you to exit in an exaggerated manner. When you merely continued to stare back at him dully he snapped. 

“Get the fuck up!” Tommy raised his voice, causing everyone in the room to flinch. 

Tommy’s eyes were strained, a vein popped out of his forehead as his hands formed to fists. 

“Tommy” Arthur protested, leaning forward in his seat. 

Arthur was always so loyal to Tommy, but grew to be highly protective of you. He was prepared to cop the fire instead, take a beating if he had to. It was his doings anyways, not yours. 

“It’s alright Arthur” you soothed his guilty look, looking confident even though your heart was pounding in shock at your husband’s outburst. 

Tommy saw red when you reassuringly pressed your hand to his chest. Without waiting any longer he marched towards you. You jumped up from your seat before he could yank you up. But he still latched onto your bicep and pulled you out of the room with no care as you winced from his hold. 

“Tommy… You’re hurting me!” You cried as he pulled you up the stairs. 

There was no answer from him. Only the sounds of grunts through his hard expression as he led you to the bedroom. Shoving you into the room, Tommy slammed the door shut and stomped around in circles, his hand tugging at his roots as he heard the shouts and cries of his fallen fellow soldiers. Your arms crossed over your chest, a frustrated expression set on your face by glue. 

“Thomas you’re being dramatic” you pointed out, shaking your head at his behavior. The embarrassment had drenched you completely, he was too furious to notice how awful he had made the situation. 

Tommy’s head shot towards you and he glared at you. 

“Pardon? You parading yourself around my brother in front of my entire family is nothing more than me being dramatic!” Tommy roared as he marched towards you. “Why don’t you fucking respect me!” Tommy yelled, his pale skin now red as he grabbed onto your shoulders in a warning touch. 

His anger spattered onto you as you felt your chest tighten, you scoffed at his words, not intimidated by his hold on you. “Oh calm down Thomas!” You hissed at your husband. 

You fell to the fall before the pain even shot from your cheek. Before the redness even grew on your timid skin. You choked out in shock as you raised your hand to the burning sensation on your cheek. The back of Tommy's hand was still positioned in the air from where he hit you. Tommy had never hit you before, he had vowed to never do it. 

“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down” Tommy growled.

Swiftly, he bent down to yank you back up to your feet. When you struggled against his hold and tried to smack him away he hit you again with the front of his hand this time. Then he hit the other cheek just as hard. You screamed out in fear but his hand was swift to smack over your mouth. 

“Who do you fucking think you are? Huh! You wear my name! You’re in my house!” Tommy lectured, shaking you around like a ragdoll before he shoved you back to the ground. 

Tommy went back to walking around in circles, his hand roughly massaged his chin as he wondered what to do with you. His disobedient wife. You laid on the floor, frozen in fear as you stared at his polished shoes twirling around the room. With your hands pressed against your stinging cheeks, tears shedded from your aching eyes. Your sobs were silent and rough. 

A heavy sigh left his lips as he looked down to you. Slowly, he undid his belt and slipped it out of the loops of his pants and folded it in half. Tommy fell back onto the brown leather armchair in the corner of the room and lightly slapped his belt against his knee. 

“Come here, lay over my knee my darling…” Tommy spoke in a soothing voice, but had a wicked grin on his lips. 

You looked up at him with fearful eyes, then your stare was stuck on his belt slapping against his pants. Knowing his intentions, you whimpered out pathetically and shook your head against the floor. 

“N-no” you objected weakly. 

“It wasn’t an offer” Tommy grunted, he leaned towards you, the grip on the leather tightened. “Do it before I show you how strong my foot is” Tommy warned, tapping his foot impatiently.

It took you a moment to get up, you were too busy having a little silent breakdown as you whined at his response. The smirk on his lips grew larger as he watched you gradually crawl towards him, wincing to yourself as you climbed up onto his lap and laid stiff on top of him. 

Tommy sighed as he pulled up your dress, his hand rubbed your ass briefly before he yanked down your panties to your knees. The leather brushed over your backside and you gripped onto his leg in fear as you sobbed quietly. 

“You seemed to have mistaken my kindness for weakness, my darling. I have no problem with showing you my ruthlessness, the many tales you heard of me before we had even met” Tommy explained as he dragged the belt all over your skin. 

“You’re scaring me Tommy” you sniffled out. 

The inside of your throat felt swollen and your chest ached. A harsh slap with the belt landed on your rear. It caused your panicky yelp to echo throughout the room. When you tried to impulsively wiggle yourself off of him he smacked you again with the leather. 

“You’ve lost your privileges to address me by my first name, correct yourself right now!” Tommy ordered, his hold on his belt tight as his free hand went around your back to keep you trapped. 

“Tom-uh Mr Shelby?” You answered unsurely, your expression wincing as your shoulders raised. 

“Good girl!” Tommy praised as the belt smacked against your rear again. 

You chortled out as he continued on with your punishment. Quickly, you lost count with how many times he hit you as he flicked his wrist in a haphazardly manner. Sometimes he’d focus purely on one cheek. Or do slow and heavy smacks across every inch of your skin. Then he’d do quick stings across your rear. 

“Please stop!” you begged, your voice dry and weak, your mouth pressed against his knee as you tried to muffle out your cries. 

“Aw, my darling can’t take it anymore eh?” Tommy chuckled. 

He dropped the belt onto your back and rubbed your tender backside with his bare hand roughly. 

“Please I love you Tommy!” you exhorted, desperately hoping this would ease his suspicions. 

The screech was piercing when he smacked your bruised skin wickedly with his palm. 

“Correct yourself, whore” Tommy spat. 

‘Ah! I love you Mr Shelby” you sobbed out. 

Your head fell back down to his knee, your teeth bit into his leg to silence yourself but he didn't mind. Surprisingly, the pain felt nice to him. 

“That’s a good girl…” Tommy grinned, rubbing your ass again roughly as if he was praising you. “I’m going to beat your ass beyond breaking point. Then I’ll know you’ve learnt your lesson” Tommy addressed. 

“No Mr Shelby please! I understand!” You protested as you squirmed over him. Tommy was quick to hold you on top of him as you tried to swing your body onto the floor. “Please forgive me! I won’t do it again!” You pleaded as you tried to blink back your tears.   

“Stay still before I hit you with the buckle!” Tommy threatened, his words hissing like a viper. 

You mewled out, but listened to his demand. Tommy picked up his belt again and proceeded to whip you with it. 

When your cries had died down and you laid still on him, Tommy dropped the belt to the ground and rubbed your black and blue rear. When his fingers rubbed against your slit, he grinned to himself as he brought them into his sight. They glistered in your fluid and he sucked his fingers clean, moaning to himself at your sweet taste. 

“Seems like I wasn’t the only one that enjoyed this”' Tommy commented as his fingers returned to your cunt, fondling with your folds and teasing your nerves by randomly pushing in a digit. “Have you learnt your lesson?” Tommy cocked an eyebrow to you. 

As you tried to turn your head back towards him, you nodded to him. “Yes Mr Shelby” you spoke out breathlessly. 

“Which is?” He questioned. 

You choked on your words as you blinked back your tears. “To be a good wife to you!”

“Such a good wife…” Tommy soothed as he caressed your bruised ass. “Stand up and strip for your husband” he instructed as he leaned back into his seat. 

Through gritted teeth, you stood on your two feet and slowly stripped till you were completely nude in front of him. Your body shook like a leaf in the wind as you resisted not to cover yourself with your arms. Tommy sighed to himself as he looked your heated figure up and down, and then he pulled out his length and gradually stroked himself a couple of times. Not failing to express how aroused he was through his groans. 

“Come here and sit on my cock eh?” 

“Mr Shelby please” you begged weakly, eyes stinging with discomfort. 

Tommy leaned forward and pointed his finger to you. “Shut up before I change my mind, bend you over and fuck your ass” he warned, his pointed finger completely still. 

You nodded your head like a begging dog and practically ran over to Tommy despite the pain that shot through your rear. You straddled your husband, his hands were on your hips as he grinned up to you, his cock pressed against your inner thigh. 

“Who do you belong to?” Tommy asked as his length pushed into your throbbing, soaked entrance. 

“You Mr Shelby!” You answered through a groan as you slid down his shaft. 

“Good… No more talking to anyone, at all, without my permission eh?” Tommy commanded with a resolute nod. All you could do was nod back as he rocked his hips against yours, his fingernails dug into your flesh as your walls squeezed his size. 

“Mr Shelby” you whined out. 

“You’re mine” Tommy growled animalistically as he leant in to bite your neck. “Only fucking mine. You wanted my attention? You fucking got it” he grunted as he rutted himself deep inside of you. 

Your eyes rolled back as you held onto your husband tightly as he drew blood from your neck. The pain dissolved as the pleasure quickly built up inside of your core. Your mouth had fallen open as you were moaning out shamelessly, Tommy slapped your ass and you squealed. 

“You’re clenching around me so tightly darling, you want to milk me empty eh? Get yourself pregnant?” Tommy asked, his own breathing heavy as he pounded himself into you. 

“Yes Mr Shelby!”

“Keep on squeezing me then, just like that” Tommy coached as his hips thrusted at an immaculate speed. “Maybe another baby in this house would keep you tamed. Let’s give Charlie a little brother or sister eh?” He suggested, a proud smirk on his lips.

All you could do was hum in compliance as you clenched around him. It was so slippery you had to hold your body in place. His balls were slapping against you as you felt your climax climbing as high as it could. The scream from your hot lips echoed throughout the room as you held onto Tommy for dear life. He grunted in response, and shortly followed through with his own climax. 

Your body fell dead on top of him as you tried to catch your breath back. Through deep breaths, your chest rose and fell as your eyes remained shut. Tommy breathed out, his hands caressed your lower back as he inhaled your scent. He was still buried inside of you, he could feel your fluids drip out slowly. 

“Fuck, that was something else, wasn’t it my love?” Tommy asked teasingly as he patted your rear. 

You whimpered, tear stained eyes as you looked up to your husband, he smiled softly to you, you smiled softly back. He guided your hips up, his coated cock slipped out of your swollen entrance with a pop and he helped you onto your feet. 

After he slipped his member back into his pants, Tommy guided you to bend over the bed, you winced as you followed through and he examined you. Down on his knees, Tommy pulled your lips apparent with two fingers as he watched your mixed fluids drip out of you. His hands caressed over your abused skin as he stood back up again.

“If only you could see how beautiful you look my dear” Tommy sighed, his voice dark and husky. 

He pulled you back up and held you in his arms, your flustered body caved against him. Your knees buckled as Tommy held your weak stance up, he murmured to you, his face rubbed against yours like a needy cat.  

“You wanna come down for the rest of the meeting?” Tommy hummed in the crook of your neck. 

The thought of you going back down there frightened you, the humiliation of this sudden occurrence felt too overwhelming. Having all eyes on you would cause you to have a breakdown without a doubt, you knew they heard you, your cries had echoed to the fields. 

“No Mr Shelby” you answered timidly, sniffling to yourself as you tried to cry silently. 

“That’s alright, you rest up, you look exhausted. I’ll come check on you later, I have some business to attend to after this, okay?” Tommy spoke innocently as he led you to the bed. 

Tommy helped you in, you winced at the friction of your rear to the sheets but made no comment to your husband’s kindness. The covers were tucked in around you, Tommy petted your hair to the side and smiled at you. 

“Thank you Mr Shelby” your smile shaked, cheeks still a dark shade of red. 

“Sleep well my love” Tommy whispered before he planted a tender kiss on your lips. 

It’s what you missed so badly, instinctively, your arms reached up from under the sheets and tried to snake around his back. But your body felt so weak, you couldn’t bring yourself up. Tommy hummed and pulled your body up, his hold on your lower back as the sheets slipped down your body already, his tongue slipped straight down your throat as your tongue massaged him. As you moaned directly into his mouth, Tommy pressed your faces together as he gently laid you back onto the bed. 

“I love you” you whispered once more as your head fell deep into the pillow, your tired eyes remained shut. A low hum echoed out of Tommy as you quickly fell asleep. 

Tommy walked back down into the reading room. He knew everyone had heard everything, his eyes locked with Arthur’s. As he shot him a glare, Arthur lowered his head submissively as Tommy continued on with his discussions and concerns to his family.

[demonic0angel]

The ghost game trio are stuck in an escape room like trial with portal guns. The only real danger in this game is if they run out of food before completing it.

Is Robin speed running the trial as fast as a foodie going through a bag of potato chips?

Of course he is. He's Robin.

Did he noticed half way through that Nightingale was actually having fun solving the trail's different puzzles?

Yes.

Has he now stopped and started goofing off with Sparrow so Nightingale can her fun?

Also yes.

They have more than enough food to last them through. Nightingale can take her time and have fun while the boys be boys and have some wholesome fun with the portal guns in this ghost game.

(I went O.o (very delighted) when I saw this ask. My first Ghost Game AU (kinda) ask??? Hell yes!! Robin = Jason, Sparrow = Danny, Nightingale = Jazz)

“Pew pew!” Sparrow said, giving his own sound effects to the guns. He dodged Robin’s guns with an exaggerated movement, making himself stretchy to dodge another blast. He flew into the air and reloaded the guns.

“That’s cheating!” Robin chided but did a backflip as Sparrow shot at him. The guns ripped a tiny hole into the walls around them, but thankfully had no other side effects.

“Now you’re just showing off!” Sparrow laughed, as Robin completed another set of acrobatics to get away from him. Both Sparrow and Robin had been very careful to not hurt each other or Nightingale, and so they just let loose and had fun.

It kept them busy and was fun. They didn’t often have scenarios that were this carefree.

“New rule!” Robin declared. “Everytime you talk, you have to rhyme!”

“Dang it! You— rabbit!” Sparrow cried, but both of them laughed harder. “I’ll make the next rule! And uh— you drool!”

“Try harder, buster!”

Robin eventually escaped Sparrow’s guns and as both of them went off for a quick break, he sidled up to Nightingale, who was sitting on the floor and solving another puzzle.

Robin watched her work for a brief moment, as she sorted the colored shapes into categories according to a specific rule for the next one to unlock. She looked happy, enjoying herself as the other two had their own versions of fun.

Robin was sweating from exertion and breathing hard, but he leaned over her shoulder to correct one of her choices.

She blinked at it, considered the new answer, and then beamed before she turned to him. “Are you and Sparrow having fun?” She teased.

Robin grinned, as he opened a pack of gummies and threw them all in his mouth. As he chewed, he said, “You should join too.”

“I still have 183 more puzzles to go. I’ll be okay here.” She grinned. “Also, didn’t you have to rhyme?”

Robin regretted that rule he made, since Sparrow seemed to be getting better at rhyming than him after a while. “Can’t I get a break from rhyming?”

There was a battle cry and then a refreshed Sparrow flew at them, shooting at Robin. None of the hits were able to land on either of them, because Robin cartwheeled away and Sparrow was very careful not to aim at Nightingale, and then they were off again.

“Take your time, Nightingale!” Robin cried at her as he ran away from Sparrow. “I know you won’t fail!”

Nightingale shook her head as she watched the two boys jump around and shoot at each other, all while rhyming like a bunch of little Dr. Suesses. Both of them were loud and noisy, spitting rhymes at each other in glee and screaming in laughter.

At least they made a funny background noise.

Nightingale turned back to the wall and went back to work with a content hum.

[koiiiji]

Can I request a fic for Kenta Magami where the reader is the twin sister of Gun. She joined gun for training. She thought Kenta was adorable cause he was small and nicknamed him little turnip. They meet years later in Korea and she refers to him by that nickname.

hiii!! omgg u reading my thoughts kenta really cute and looks like little turnip especially as a kid😭🥺

frogs and kisses

author's note ; i wrote slightly different scenario, with kid! kenta x kid!reader, if you don't mind!! thank you for request!!

the lush gardens of Yamazaki estate were buzzing with sudden bursts of life. the sprawling grounds had been meticulously prepared for the celebration, with clusters of important families mingling, their children running about in fits of giggles. among them were two tiny figures near the koi pond, a few steps removed from the lively adults.

Kenta, the only heir to Magami family, crouched by the water’s edge. his usually neat hair stuck up slightly on one side, a sign of his earlier…hunt. in his hands, he held a small, green frog, he been chasing for past 5 minutes, its tiny legs dangling lazily as though it trusted the boy completely.

“look at this!” Kenta exclaimed, his voice bubbling with excitement as he turned to you, his big grin lighting up his face. “isn’t it so cool? i caught it all by myself!” he shifted slightly to give you a better view of his prized catch, clearly thrilled by his discovery.

you, the youngest sibling of Yamazaki family, weren’t as sure about the frog. your big eyes darted between its slimy green body and Kenta’s enthusiastic expression. still, you couldn’t help but feel a little braver with him around. your tiny hands fiddled with the hem of your yukata as you leaned in closer.

“really?” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the confusion and incredulity. your older brothers used to scare you with some frogs earlier...

“yeah! it’s so awesome,” Kenta said, nodding fervently. “it’s not even slimy…maybe a little slimy. but it’s cute! see?” he held it out toward you with both hands, his eyes sparkling as if he’d just discovered a hidden treasure.

your heart fluttered, but not because of the frog. it was because of Kenta — the way he seemed so carefree and full of wonder, like nothing in the world could dampen his excitement. you hesitated, then slowly reached out with one finger, trembling slightly as you hovered near the frog’s bumpy back.

“it’s okay,” Kenta said, his tone light and encouraging, though his attention remained fixed on the frog. “just touch it like this.” he demonstrated by lightly tapping frog's head with his own finger, laughing when it wriggled in his hands.

summoning your courage, you finally touched the frog. it was cool and slightly slimy, but not unpleasant. a small gasp escaped your lips as you pulled your hand back, grinning despite yourself. “it’s not scary!” you declared, pride swelling in your chest.

“told you!” Kenta said with a triumphant laugh, looking so pleased with himself that it made your cheeks grow warm. he carefully lowered the frog to the ground, letting it hop toward the water. you both watched in silence as the frog splashed into the pond and swam away, leaving ripples behind.

koi fish darted beneath the surface, their scales flashing gold and orange in the sunlight.

for a moment, everything was still. the laughter and chatter of the celebration felt distant as you stared at Kenta’s profile, his focus still on the pond. his round head, neatly styled back black hair and small ponytail on the back of his head make him looked... cute, you thought to yourself. cute like a turnip! and this thought made your face heat up all over again. your heart thudded faster as a sudden wave of boldness overtook you.

before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned over and pressed a quick, innocent kiss to Kenta’s cheek. the soft peck left a warm, tingling sensation on your lips.

“you look like a cute turnip!” you blurted, your voice high-pitched and panicked. the words tumbled out before you could stop them, and as soon as they did, your face turned crimson. without waiting for his reaction, you turned and bolted, your legs carrying you away as fast as they could.

Kenta, still crouched by the pond, blinked in confusion. “huh?” he muttered, his head tilting slightly as he processed what had just happened. “turnip?” he scratched the back of his head, his face scrunching in thought before a slow blush crept up his cheeks and ears. he touched the spot where your lips had landed.

“cute...” he said to himself with a little warm smile. he stood up, brushing his hands on his pants, and glanced in the direction you’d run. “guess i’ll show her another frog later,” he murmured to himself, a dreamy grin tugging at his lips as he thought about how many frogs he could catch so you could give him the exact same kisses for each frog!

from a distance, you peeked out from behind a tree, clutching the bark like it was your only lifeline. your cheeks still burned as you watched him sitting by the pond, seemingly unfazed. you had no idea what he was thinking, but you couldn’t bring yourself to go back. not yet, anyway...

[oldphanny]

HOW. WAS. THE. SHOW. ⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️

AAAAHHH Sorry, I did see your asks earlier, but today has been such a blur cause I only went to sleep at 3am, so I've been napping on and off all day and kept forgetting!!

(I'm an old soul that requires 23 hours of sleep a day)

THE SHOW WAS ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE!!! Thank you for asking :)

However, the more I read and the more I'm answering questions, the more I'm realising that we were missing a lot of props. And obviously, the entire set!

So I like to lovingly refer to my version of tit as 'Bogan Tit' (thanks australian customs!!)

We were missing:

(Starting off with the ones I noticed from seeing spoilers on here prior to the show)

The set - we got a projection like Brisbane did. I don't know whether the same happened in Brisbane, but a bunch of the videos lagged or didn't play properly at all. Honestly, it just led to funnier moments, like Dan weirdly stomping over to the screen and yelling, "WELL THAT WAS A GREAT VIDEO!!!" When the clips for the tour bus conspiracy didn't play lol

The Golden Pig - I'm guessing the golden pig was supposed to be there but Phil managed to find a Golden Koala piggy bank at Woolies as a replacement (who he declared was named Clint, which Dan side eyed lol)

The Dioramas and Dolls - We had bunnings boxes cut up and with a background printed onto them while the dan and phil dolls were replaced with Obi-wan (Dan) and Goku (Phil). I would have loved to have seen PJ and Sophie's work but, again, it honestly made it funnier to have Obi-wan and Goku 'wrestle'?

Phils Silicone Abs - This was the biggest disappointment for me personally 🥲 I don't know when the Abs were supposed to come out through the whole boxing bit but phil just wore a blue singlet. Sucks but obviously shit happens and that's out of their control. I did have the aisle seat because someone wanted to trade seats so I had both dan and phil fly by me (and Dan collapse on the ground in view of my seat) so I really can't complain too much! I'm pretty sure Phil and I made eye contact for a split second before he sped off at a speed I didnt know was possible for him, so heeeyy I'll take it over the Silicone titties

The screen that gets smashed over dans head at the end of the boxing match/ Confetti- it was an officeworks box cut to look like a screen with like paper as the screen. I don't know whether that was supposed to be a better prop? Everyone around me laughed when the officeworks logo was visible on the side. Also, I'm assuming Confetti was supposed to fall out of it? But nothing really came out besides a bunch that got stuck to dans shoulder when he stood back up, which Phil came over and preened off of him 🥲🥲 Dan later on in the bit shook the boxes aggressively so the confetti did fly out over the stage but I'm assuming that wasn't supposed to happen? I'm not sure if this is the confetti you were referring to or whether there was supposed to be more? I didn't notice any other confetti, so perhaps no?

Phan bucks - I was not close enough to the stage to say whether they were the authentic phan bucks or some form of replacement, but something was sprayed out into the front row with one of those money guns.

Foam Fingers - No, I honestly don't know what you were referring too... which I guess means we missed out 🥲

BUT DESPITE ALL THIS, I LOVED THE SHOW! Clearly, they put a lot of work into making the show still feel seamless, and had I not been a chronic tumblr user, I wouldn't have noticed anything was wrong! They really carried themselves well and I loved Bogan Tit, I wouldn't have had it any other way <3 It kind of makes it more special since our show was slightly different :)

I would be interested to see the full show some day if they do post a recording to know how different it really was, but I'm so happy with my experience!! The audience was fantastic and cheering the entire time, so I hope that easied they're anxiety on not having everything to plan <3

[inspectori]

Hi !! You said you wanted a request, so here's mine (never done this before, barewithq 😬😬)

Could you please do reader that like seriously matches bokutos freak. Like they both say the same things at the same time, high key dumb and just really loud. The only difference is that reader is so ass at sports they're ashamed.

And then Bokuto like teaches them how to play a little and then reader is like "omg this HUNK OF A MAN is lowkey fine shyt" and then bada Bing bada boom, do whatever you want from there (rejection, they both like eachother, bokuto was going to wingman for Akaashi, reader accidently confessed, idk.)

It's okay if you don't do this btw !! It might be a little specific 🥲🥲 have a good day/night/afternoon !!

- TWO BRAINS, ONE VOLLEYBALL & ZERO THOUGHTS -

bokuto x gn!reader

“IM TELLING YOU BRUNO MARS HAS THE BEST SONGS!”

“REALLLL!”

You and Bokuto yelled at the same time, smacking hands mid-hallway with such force that it echoed through the gym. Everyone turned. Akaashi didn’t even flinch. He was used to this by now.

“You guys are so loud,” Konoha muttered, walking past.

“WE'RE NOT LOUD, YOU’RE JUST QUIET,” you and Bokuto declared in perfect unison again, then screamed because of it.

“Oh my god,” Akaashi sighed, adjusting his clipboard like it personally offended him. “Two of them. There’s two of them now.��

“ISN’T IT GREAT?” Bokuto beamed, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “They’re like—like—a me but with better hair!”

You preened. “You’re like a me but with muscles and hand-eye coordination!”

Bokuto’s face scrunched in confusion. “Wait. You don’t play volleyball?”

You went still. Eyes wide. Like a raccoon caught stealing from a vending machine.

“...Im like sports-deficient.”

“...You what?”

You held up your hands in surrender. “I suck at sports, Bokuto-san. Like, ‘tripped-on-my-own-shoelaces-during-tag’ bad. Benched in gym class bad. My P.E. teacher wrote ‘creative’ under my physical report card to be nice.”

His eyes widened like you’d just said your favorite food was drywall. “But—but you’re SO COOL. And you like—yell! And high five so good! And you have the ENERGY!”

You whispered, like it was a dirty confession, “I fear I peak at yelling.”

“No,” he said solemnly, hands gripping your shoulders. “We must certainly fix this.”

[30 MINUTES LATER]

“Okay, step one. Hold your arms out like this.”


“Like I’m begging for a hug?”


“YES, but for a volleyball.”

He tossed the ball gently. You smacked it with your forearms. It ricocheted directly into your own face.

“...That’s okay!” Bokuto said brightly. “You absorbed the ball with your soul! Like a true athlete!”

You wheezed and crumpled to the ground. “I think I saw my ancestors.”

[15 MINUTES LATER]

You somehow hit the ball backwards into a trash can.

“Did you MEAN to do that?!” Bokuto shouted, eyes sparkling.
“Absolutely not.”
“TWIN YOU’RE A GENIUS.”

[1 HOUR LATER]

You were sweaty. Hair was stuck to your forehead. Your lungs were wheezing like a dying kazoo. Bokuto handed you water like he was proud of you for fighting in a war.

“Yo,” you panted. “You’re actually a good teacher.”

“You’re actually a good listener!”

“You’re actually,” you blinked, and suddenly noticed the curve of his biceps as he handed you the towel, the shine of sweat on his neck, his stupid pretty eyelashes— “...like, kinda fine even hot?”

You said it out loud.

The air paused.

Your brain caught up.

Bokuto’s eyes widened. He stared at you, stunned. You panicked.

“I—WAIT—I MEANT LIKE—‘HOT’ AS IN SWEATY!!”

He blinked.

“Like ‘hot’ like—uh—sun-hot!! Not like—hot-hot!! Unless you want to be hot-hot? In which case—uh—hi!!???”

You made a weird finger gun. Bokuto kept blinking.

And then.

He exploded.

“YOU THINK I’M HOT?!? RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”

He started spinning in circles like a malfunctioning sprinkler, grabbing his hair. “AKAASHI!! I NEED HELP!! I’M TOO COOL!!!!”

Akaashi entered like he had heard this before.

“What happened?”

“They confessed!!” Bokuto screeched. “ON ACCIDENT!!! But they THINK I’M HOT!! WHAT DO I DO?? I DIDN’T PLAN FOR THIS!!”

You were red-faced. “I’M SORRY!!! I’ll take it back!! UN-CRUSHING IN PROGRESS CHAT!! PLEASE STAND BY!!”

“DON’T TAKE IT BACK!! I LIKE IT!!” Bokuto yelled.

“YOU DO?!?!”

“YEAH!!!”

“OH!! OKAY!!!”

“OKAY!!!”

“...DO YOU WANNA GO GET ICE CREAM OR SOMETHING?!”

“TOTALLY !!!”

Akaashi sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can one of you drive?”

“I PERCHANCE FAILED MY DRIVING TEST!” you both shouted.

Akaashi stared up at the ceiling like he was praying for lightning to strike him. “You bitches are dumb.”

hopefully I cooked it took to long trynna word it 😭😭

[solarmorrigan]

69 + 27 for steddie :)

I got really stuck on this one for a bit, but it ended up being one of my favorites. Thank you for the prompt!

From the Fanfiction Trope Mash-Up list: 69. Flirting Under Fire + 27. Sick/Injured Fic

cw: canon-typical violence, mentions of injury

-

It’s a little bit like date night, really.

Like, in a twisted sort of way.

They get some time away from everyone else, they’re doing something together, they get to appreciate each other’s skills and competency – so what if the activity in question is patrolling Hawkins’ cracked and monster-infested streets? Times are tough, they take what they can get.

In any case, Steve has found he very much appreciates the chance to watch Eddie snipe demobats out of the sky, or take demodogs out with a well-aimed shot to what could dubiously be called the head (curly-haired brunets with guns; apparently Steve has a very specific type. Go figure). Eddie, in turn, has made no secret of how he enjoys seeing the power and strength in Steve’s swings when he takes on all manner of beasts with his trusty nailbat (Mark 2. Nailbat Mark 1 had unfortunately splintered some time ago, may it rest in peace).

And if they decide to go to bed immediately after showering off the muck and ash once they’ve gotten home, it’s because they’re tired from patrol. Obviously.

It’s possible, though, that they’ve gotten a little too complacent. They’ve had a string of easy patrols, picking off single demobeasts or taking out small groups with the ease that comes with practice. There haven’t been any surprises or mishaps, almost like the monsters have fallen into an easy pattern of their own.

Or maybe thinking like that is where Steve slips up.

Eddie whistles as Steve follows through on a swing that crushes the ribcage of the final demodog in the small pack, effectively taking it out of commission.

“Nice form, Harrington.”

“Right,” Steve drawls, turning a warm smile on Eddie that takes any of the sting out of his teasing, “because you know so much about baseball.”

Eddie’s smile turns wolfish. “Who’s talking about baseball?”

Steve snorts, shaking his head, still smiling. He’s never had someone lay it on so thick with him – he’s never had the blatant flirting and the silly nicknames and the entirely unsubtle once-over glances, and he kind of loves it. He loves Eddie, really, but even in the midst of a mini apocalypse, it’s probably too soon to go around declaring that.

Instead, he glances around at the monsters strewn on the ground, and then at his watch. It’s nearly midnight; they’ve been out for hours, and this is the only encounter they’ve had.

“Think we’re done for the night?” he asks

To his credit, Eddie does a quick check of the area before stepping in close to Steve. “I’m nowhere near done with you for the night, sweetheart,” he purrs, and a shiver runs down Steve’s spine.

“No?” he asks, gaze flicking down to see the way Eddie’s lips curl into a smirk.

“Nope. Let’s go home and I can show you what else I have in mind.”

Steve is so distracted by the idea, by the thoughts Eddie’s words conjure up, by Eddie himself, that he almost misses it – the movement right in the periphery of his vision.

Almost, but not quite.

As it is, he barely has time to bark out, “MOVE,” at Eddie and give him a hard shove, getting him out of harm’s way. He doesn’t have time to follow.

The pain of the demodog’s claws raking across his side is so sharp that it burns cold, and the force behind the blow winds Steve and knocks his bat from his hands. He can see it drawing back for another swing—it’s the one he thought he’d killed first with a solid blow to its gaping maw—but he can’t move, can’t force his body to cooperate, and he’s about to die–

The sharp report of Eddie’s shotgun rings out, and the demodog jerks. Its head is gone, black ooze splattered all over everything (probably up to and including Steve’s wound, Steve realizes with a shivery sort of distaste), and then Eddie is at Steve’s side.

“Shit, shit, baby, sit down, you look like you’re about to–” Even as Eddie’s saying it, Steve’s legs start to shake hard enough that they practically go out from under him, and Eddie just manages to catch him before his knees hit the pavement.

Looking back on it later, Steve really only remembers snatches of what happens next: using Steve’s jacket as a compress (it’s ruined anyway), Eddie speaking frantically into the walkie to call for a pickup, Eddie talking to him low and soothing until Hopper’s truck pulls up, Hopper’s many varied and colorful swears as he helps bundle Steve into the back. Steve definitely remembers that he passes out sometime around when they dump the heavy-duty, Upside Down-grade disinfectant over the slashes in his side, and he’s grateful he does.

Eddie is there, sitting by the bed when Steve wakes up, looking like he’s aged about ten years in the grey light of what could either be dawn or dusk.

“Hey,” Steve rasps, aiming a tiny smile at Eddie.

“Steve, what the fuck,” Eddie demands, and it only makes Steve’s smile grow.

It isn’t exactly the first thing he’d wanted to hear, but it’s a very Eddie thing to say all the same.

“Wasn’t gonna–” Steve breaks off with a hiss as he tries to sit up a little further against the headboard, and Eddie darts forward to help support him, to rearrange the pillows and get him a little more upright. “Wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.”

“Steve–”

Actually, fuck ‘too soon.’ Fuck waiting.

“I love you,” Steve says, and Eddie falls silent.

Steve doesn’t regret saying it—he could never, he’s pretty sure—but Eddie is quiet just long enough for Steve to get nervous before he’s pressing forward and kissing Steve, hard and full and insistent.

“I love you, too,” Eddie murmurs, the words almost lost inside Steve’s mouth, like he can’t even wait long enough to get them out before taking another kiss. “Never do that again.”

Steve kisses back, matching the passion as well as he can with what little energy he has, and makes no such promise.

He loves Eddie, after all. He could never lie to him.

[bombasticsalt]

Arcane and systemic issues aka why Jinx isn't the biggest problem for Arcane's characters

So this post is mainly based on this comment I saw on some random reaction video that said Jinx was the biggest problem in Arcane's universe and why they are wrong. Did we watch the same show? Of course you can root for whoever you want to but I don't feel like you can say people of the undercity revolting are the main problem.

See the thing is Jinx wouldn't have been created as she is if it weren't for her being born on the wrong side of town. I've seen people say Mylo created Jinx or Vi created Jinx but the thing is that arcanes society as it is created Jinx. Often when people talk about powder I see people say that she's only a kid and of course she's bad at stuff, but I think the bigger issue isn't that Powder is bad at stuff it's that she shouldn't have to be good at making bombs, or fighting, or parkour. Powder was a child, a sensitive child at that she's not less talented than any other normal child but, she's surrounded by other kids who have had to have thick skin and have been forced to survive on their wits. Of course, compared to Mylo, Claggor, and Vi she's the weak link because she's the only one in that group who doesn't have something she excells in. Powder has the talent of a child because she is a child who shouldn't have been forced to be at anything other than a childs level. Vi has always been a fighter from what we've seen and that's something that helps her but not every kid is like that, not every kid is a natural leader and they shouldn't have to be they're children it's their job to learn. But for kids like Mylo they don't see it that way all they can see is that everybody else is good at something except for Powder. Mylo makes Powder feel bad for not being good at anything, for jinxing every job because in his eyes she should be up to Zaun's standards. Even though the kids in Zaun shouldn't have to be tough, by normal standards Powder is a smart child but by the undercity's standards she's a weak link. It's not that Powder is bad at everything or a Jinx she's just a child who wasn't born equipped for the world she was brought in.

One of the things I love about arcane is how much content they give us outside of the canon show especially, the enemy music video. Scene's that stick with me are when Powder see's these two people fighting and she has this sad little face it's so heartbreaking, and when she does her little finger gun thing with enforcers. Which brings me to my next point, the undercity is ultimately stuck in a cycle of violence. Doesn't it say something that Silco's best idea of how to control the undercity is to introduce a highly addictive and dangerous drug that grants ordinary people the chance to be strong and retaliate. Most of the enforcers don't care about justice and are more focused on keeping people in the undercity than keeping peace. When you're raised around violence for that long it becomes all you know, hell what made Powder get into wanting to make bombs in the first place. As long as Jinx has been alive the enforcers and topside has been the enemy who has repeatedly said let them eat cake to the undercity's struggles. In fact the entire undercity is full of Jinx's, people who crave violence and chaos who begin to have an unstoppable rage against topside. Jinx is the person who had the guts to look topside in the face and declare war, a revolution to cut off Marie Antoinette's head. Of course in that moment for Jinx it probably was not a statement it was an act of hate, an act of passion, an act of rebirth.

Jinx is a symbol because of her defiance (killing the counselors) but somebody was going to have to do it eventually. Jinx is every top-siders worst stereotype about people from the undercity personified, but of course she is she's a mentally unstable person raised in a society that would rather pretend she does not exist rather than stopping this cycle of poverty and insanity. Of course she's a stereotype in a government that's done barely anything to support her or her sister. And the thing is it was never about Jinx, well it is but not really. Jinx is a name for the monster, a face to make the people raise their pitchforks and burn the entire coven. Jinx is the image not the movement. The biggest issue with the undercity isn't that the people are naturally disturbed it's that they're trapped in an endless cycle of suffering that ultimately leads to mentally unwell people.

Classism is such a big subject when it comes to arcane that I feel as if some fans refuse to acknowledge in a way that says something other than "oh yeah the under city is poor how sad". So many people talk about how you shouldn't compare trauma but it's objectively clear how class effects how people handle trauma. One of the biggest examples is Powder and Vi's parents death vs Caitlyn's mom dying. A line that sticks with me is during the first episode of season two when Vi says she watched the enforcers kill her parents and that Caitlyn has no idea how that feels then Caitlyn says she does because she's sounds so genuine when she says this but she doesn't at all. When Jinx killed Caitlyn's mom she was allowed to hate Jinx, allowed to hate the people of the undercity and nobody ever tries to justify her mother's death. Vi doesn't have that luxury she can't afford to not like the enforcers, she's not allowed to not like them because "they're a symbol of justice" sure they killed her parents but these are the supposed good guys! Vi isn't allowed to express her grief for her parents because the same people who killed them are the same people supposed to protect them, she can't afford to not like people from top side because "they're the good guys the civilized one's among a sea of beasts" sure they made mistakes and sure those mistakes get people from the undercity killed but still "We're the good guys"

Caitlyn claims that Vi can show people that not all of Zaun supports Jinx which feels wrong especially since Jinx shot that rocket with absolutely nobody supporting her. People supported Silco and that they should fight but in that moment that killed Cait's mom it was only Jinx. Yet for Caitlyn it's not Us vs Jinx, it's Us vs The undercity, she even tells Vi that she thought Vi was on their side. Not the side of justice the side of piltover because all it took for Caitlyn to hate the undercity was one bad person. That's what it took to make her see these people as inhumane and lesser than the people of piltover. Caitlyn and Jinx are parallels and I think the only difference between them that isn't just class is that; somebody gave a name to Powder's monster.

[gothgleek]

Spiderman!Spencer x Seamstress!Fem!Reader

Spencer finds out he’s got super powers and he’s got the brain, powers, and abilities to become a superhero. Now all he needs is a costume. That’s where you come in.

Outline for a Spiderman!Spencer fic I’m writing based this post by @reidcoffeemoon. Let me know if anyone would actually be interested in reading a full version of it. Also please like and reblog, it’s my birthday today💕💕💕

•The two of you met at a Halloween party thrown by Penelope. You are a seamstress and whenever someone complimented your costume, you would proudly ramble about of the type of fabric you used.

•Spencer was the only one who actually listened and responded with his own facts about the fabric’s history.

•You gasped and smiled, raising your left hand to your chest. “You are my new favorite person.” You declared.

•While talking, you both found out you’re from Vegas. You worked as a seamstress for a burlesque show off the strip and did cosplay part time while he was off at learning Caltech. The two of you bond over a restaurant that shut down five years ago.

•Now in DC, you worked as a seamstress for the local theater and managed a thrift store by the university he works at. Cosplay makes up most of your income but you dream of creating a lingerie line.

•The two of you agree to meet up for coffee but before that happens, Spencer gets bitten by a spider.

• Was he was bitten by a spider while investigating an unsub who killed his victims spider venoms or did he wander into the wrong room while touring a science facility?

•Derek convinces him to try out being a superhero. Derek is part of a secret superhero group (The Avengers) and would like his friend to join (once he knows Spencer can handle superhero work).

•Spencer calls you a few weeks later. “Hey, um, I wanted your opinion on something. What kind of materials do you recommend for a sort of… workout costume?”

•Thankfully, you’ve been asked weirder questions throughout your career so it didn’t even phase you.

•You respond in a rambling style that would’ve confused other people, but not Spencer.

•”They’ve actually done some test work on using spider webs for body armor but the tests didn’t yield the best results but I think…”

•He listened to you talk while he designed a web slinging contraption for his wrists, occasionally throwing in a comment or two.

•He visits your thrift store a few days later to discuss his little project a little more.

•When it becomes apparent his skills aren’t as advanced as yours, you offer your services and schedule him to come to your place over the weekend.

•It’s purely friendly… but you can’t help but if some less than platonic thoughts come up while looking at certain measurements.

•Those less than platonic feelings did make you blind to some of his questions.

But if anyone asked you would say you’ve had weirder requests.

•“Would it be possible to make it bullet proof? And um… do you know how to make the fingers more um… thin but not thin?”

•The two of you kept meeting up to discuss his costume and sometimes even other things.

You never met anyone who made Russian lit or etymology sound so exciting before.

•But all things come to an end and once his costume is done you don’t see him for another few weeks. It sucks but life goes on.

You ignore the hurt in your stomach when he doesn’t respond to your text about asking about the foreign film fest at the local theater.

•Then, one night after work, you find yourself being on the wrong end of a gun by a mugger.

•Before you can handover your wallet however, a dark figure jumps down and when you open your eyes, the mugger is stuck to the wall with a sort of strange white substance.

•The figure pulls you to the top of the roof and you can finally get a good look at him.

•Spandex that shined in the same weaving pattern as the combination of rayon and viscose? Hands that were 7.49 inches long and 3.60 inches wide? The mask you spent the last two weeks creating?

•You squinted at him.

•“Spencer?!?”

•One long conversation in Spencer’s apartment later, and you’re telling him to come back so you can modify his suit to actually be made for crime fighting.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 40: Taken

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

If I didn’t know better I’d say the entire Shelby family is in their Sunday best. No guns, no peaky caps. They look… oddly normal.

I watch from the side as they stand in front of the Grace Shelby Institute for Orphaned Children. More pictures are snapped, more people applaud. Charlie looks confused and Karl looks bored out of his mind. Strange as it seems, not a single soul smiles for the pictures. As if this family is supposed to resemble anything but happiness.

The crowd starts filing inside so I take my que to squeeze in as well. I need to speak to Thomas but it has to wait. This morning Ada gave me some very important proof. Proof that this whole robbery riff-raff is deeper than I thought. A single photograph of a large armored vehicle.

I sit next to Ada and Karl, who keeps toying with my purse string. One look over my shoulder shows me Charlie nearly falling asleep on Thomas’ lap. As usual the display of flowers against the elegant curtains is gorgeous; adding another touch of the Shelby charm. Anyone who’s anyone is here. Rich aristocrats and modest servants all alike. In the back rows sit dozens of small children, much like Karl, with wide eyes and shy smiles. It warms my heart to see this charity in a murky place like Birmingham.

Polly, wearing a beautiful blue dress, stands at the podium while she waits for everyone to quiet down.

“I would especially like to thank the man who made this all possible. Ladies and gentlemen, Thomas Shelby.”

Applause echoes through the room. Behind me I watch Thomas stand up with Charlie in his arms and look out at the roaring crowd. Part of me thinks he doesn’t like all this praise. All the attention. There’s no doubt Thomas’ ego is sky-high but right now he does not look to be in a flaunting mood.

“Speech! Speech!” Arthur cheers over the noise.

Thomas locks eyes with me and I nod. He hands Charlie to me and goes to take his place at the front of the room next to Polly. As I bounce the babbling child on my knee I try to measure my attention to both him and Thomas.

“I didn’t come here to make a speech but I will say this: These children are now safe. And in our care they will be safe. Because we are from the same cold streets as they are. And in our car, they won’t be shipped away to the colonies, or separated from kin, or made to work for men in their various ways.”

You can hear a pin drop. Every eye is centered on Thomas, every ear listening to his words of care and compassion.

“They will grow up here. At home. Loved. In Birmingham. Because this is our city,” he declares.

“By order of the Peaky Blinders,” Arthur announces.

More applause breaks out as everyone stands to honor the new foundation. If I had known Grace was working towards this I might not have judged so harshly. This is a beautiful thing. Something I wish I could have helped with. Maybe now I can do something to contribute. Seeing Charlie staring up at me makes me want to protect every single child in the world.

Polly takes the stage again. “Now let us sing Immortal Invisible.”

Thomas walks off without a word. He needs a moment alone after that. This is Grace’s legacy.

Ada pokes my shoulder. “Tommy said mingle and smile. You do that, I’m going to discuss some shipping arrangements for America.”

“Shouldn’t I do that-? Oh.” She walks off before I can finish. “Okay. What do you think, Charlie? All these people, eh?”

He pulls at my braids. “Daddy?”

“Daddy will be back later, oké? Right now you’re stuck with me!” I tickle his chin and he giggles.

We stand in the corner away from all the social engagements. Honestly this seems like loads of hard work. How can people like talking so much? And not just talking, they’re talking about nothing of interest at all! Just gossip and small news like the weather. 

At the end of the room Thomas strides in. He sees us hiding and starts to come over but keeps getting stopped by chatty guests. He shoots me a glance and we both know he doesn’t want to be here. Time for a little intervention.

“Charlie, look! There’s daddy.” I point.

His face breaks into a bright smile. “Daddy!”

I carry him over and use the excuse to interrupt Thomas’ conversation with some older ladies.

“Someone missed you,” I say sweetly and hand Charlie over, who keeps reaching for Thomas’ coat.

“Oh, there’s Charlie!” Thomas fusses and bounces him up and down. “Little boy.”

The ladies cheer with delight and pother over the adorable son. They call a man over and the camera flashes again. More publicity. But what’s more important is the spirit of giving seen today. No newspaper can print that.

The ladies wander off and I take the moment to lean in to have a quiet word with Thomas. Do not mention the whores. Do not mention the whores.

“I’ve been told you’re planning a robbery.”

Thomas keeps looking at the crowd with an even face. “Finn needs to learn to keep his mouth shut.”

“Do not blame Finn. He’s actually keeping me informed.” I pull out the photograph. “And you're been working on this as well? A tank? Are you out of your mind?! You are a gangster who sells cars. Not a general fighting a war.”

“Not a tank. An armored car,” Thomas replies simply.

My brow creases. “What difference is there? It all ends in more violence.”

Thomas sighs and looks to see no one’s looking before leaning closer. “I’m a gangster, not a pacifist. This is why we didn’t tell you about the robbery.”

And to think I wanted to confess my feelings for this stubborn-! Wait. Maybe there’s more. Does he believe I’ll think less of him because of his stealing? Who is he stealing from anyway?

I take a breath and make my anger melt away. “Am I right to guess that the Russians are involved?”

“Yeah.”

I smirk. “Give ‘em Hell. Compliments of the Colons.”

Thomas gets his own grin. “With pleasure. No objections?”

“You won’t stop even if I did.”

“You know me so well.” he smiles and walks off to talk with someone else. 

I don’t know what his plan is. I don’t care what his plan is. He’s come this far and if it’s against the Russians then I see no reason to intervene. If Mr. Solomons is right and he knows Uncle Colon then I know I can trust Thomas’ plan. In the end, love is about having faith in someone, right?

“Verena, have you seen Charlie?” Thomas’ voice alerts me to look up. He’s darting around the room looking much more tense than a few minutes ago. “Where’s Charlie? Ada, where’s Charlie?! Where’s Charlie?!”

“Someone said they saw a nurse take him through the back door,” Ada says.

The look on Thomas’ face is one of pure horror. He takes off for the hallway and my stomach drops. No. No. No one would dare… No decent human being would involve a child in this. If Charlie really has been kidnapped… Oh Christ! I should have been watching him! We need to find him now!

I throw down my glass and push through the confused guests. I burst out the door to see Thomas hunched over spilling out the whiskey he just consumed. 

“Tommy!” John calls from down the road. “We need Moss to block all the roads south.”

Arthur jogs up and holds Thomas to keep him upright. 

“Tell me,” Thomas gasps.

“They took him,” Arthur says. “They put him in a car and they took him!” Thomas’ legs buckle and I grab his arm to help Arthur hold him up. “We’ve got spotters. I’ll set up shop. You gotta go to the office.”

“Yeah,” Thomas murmurs with blank eyes.

“You gotta sit by the phone. Whoever took him is going to call.” Arthur jerks his head to look at me. “Verena, get him home. Now. Polly!” 

The startled woman opens a car door and we both help Thomas sit down. Lord, he’s shaking! If he gets any paler one could mistake him for a spector. Polly starts the engine and we start driving back to Watery Lane. 

I try to soothe Thomas by rubbing his back but suddenly he grips my hand so tightly I swear he’s about to crush my wrist.

“He’s gone,” he croaks.

I swallow my own terror and adapt to a brave voice. “We will find him. Thomas, we will find him. Even if I have to break into every house in England with a gun in my hand. I swear on my Aunt Eleanor’s grave that he will live.” God, hear my prayer! “Who’s the bastard who would do such a despicable thing?”

Thomas tense up again and stares ahead with dead eyes. “There’s a priest named Father John Hughes from St. Mary’s Boys Reformatory. He’s the one who’s been fucking with me. He’s the one who has Charlie!”

The priest. The one I saw before Grace was shot.

“The priest, he…? To kids…?” Thomas catches on to my question and nods, proving my suspicions and sends my stomach churning. “May he be damned by God and burn in Hell.”

The car comes to a halt and Thomas bolts inside the house straight to the telephone. Polly and I hurry after him to find he’s already talking.

“Give me Moss.” A few seconds go by. “Gone where?”

Thomas hangs the phone up. Then picks it up again to throw it against the wall.

“It’s them!” He rages and paces off to squat down, head in his hands.

The priest. He was right.

“Did you break the phone?” Polly asks as she inspects the busted instrument. “You broke the phone.”

Ada pokes her head in. “Tommy, there’s a man outside. A priest.”

Thomas jumps up as if he got struck by lightning, pointing to each of us as he goes for the door. “Stay inside!”

That damned bastard! If he lays a pinkie on Charlie I’ll skin him alive and cut him to pieces! I peek through the curtains and watch Thomas disappear into the dreary night. It’s raining hard outside now. The weather is mocking us too.

“Verena, come away from there,” Polly orders and I hear more footsteps approaching. “Are we all here?”

I turn around from the fogged up window. Linda and Esme have joined us, and just in time. From the look on Esme’s face I’d say her time has come.

“Oh!” She gasps. “Me water’s broken! Ah!”

Linda slings an arm around her and I race over to open the bathroom door. “Here, in here! We’ll get you settled.”

Polly grabs some pillows and points to the kitchen. It all feels like the same routine from when I assisted with Ada’s birthing. I fill some hot water bottles and fetch more towels. While Linda and Polly guide her through the process I stand guard outside, waiting for any word about Charlie. An hour inches by and soon Esme's screams are replaced by the sounds of a cooing child. 

Thud!

The front door opens. Thomas, Arthur, and John walk straight past me. Not a word. Instead Thomas reaches for the bathroom doorknob and opens it without any consideration for the occupants’ privacy.

“Polly! Get out here.”

They file into the back office. Before I can start to follow, Thomas holds a hand up to stop me in my tracks. The door shuts and I’m left in the dark. Did I do something wrong?

“Verena?” Finn walks in from the kitchen door, gasping as if he just ran a mile.

“Finn! Did you find anything?”

He kicks a chair. “Nothing! I’ve got to report to Thomas. Where-?”

I point to where the others just disappeared to. “That way.”

He hurries to the door and shuts it again. God, what can I do? I don’t know Birmingham like the Shelbys do. Even if I go out searching on my own I’ll be wandering around like a drunk in the dark. But I can’t just stay here waiting! The thought of Charlie being alone with that monster chills my blood.

Bam!

The office door flies open. Polly staggers off sobbing. Thomas, Arthur, and John stomp to the front door and slam it shut. Linda and Esme are still caring for the newborn. All that’s left is Finn, who slowly walks down the hall and takes a seat on the staircase.

“Any news?” I ask weakly. He shakes his head. “This whole family is falling apart, Finn. What can I do?”

He takes a deep breath. “Tommy must trust you because he hasn’t yelled at you yet. He would have interrogated you too.”

I wander to the window. “Where’s he going?”

“Didn’t say. Only told me to bring the car around,” he mutters and slowly gets up from the steps.

My nerves catch up with me. My heart feels like it’s about to choke me and my hands are shaking. I try to speak but tears threaten to spill. Instead I stay quiet and sit down to stare out at the blurry rain. Murder and robbery are terrible sins but they pale in comparison to when a child is involved. So much madness…

@meadows5

[callme-naomi]

To All Those I Cared For

Summary: New year's at the Reiss household meant everyone of what was left of the Scout Regiment was coming over to visit. But when Historia's curious daughter poses a question to the famed Captain Levi, he has a walk down memory lane.

Word count: 1.4 k words

Author's note: Hey, my first ever AOT post! One thing: I named Historia's daughter Freida here. She wasn't officially named, but I had a feeling she might name her after Ymir or Freida, so I stuck with the latter.

Mayhem did not even begin to describe whatever was happening at the Reiss household on New Year’s.

While in the gardens, a beautiful table was being adorned with Mikasa’s nimble fingers scattering the flowers and Jean stringing the fairy lights, Connie and Armin trailing behind with the dishes, inside the house, Historia was running hither and thither, Annie on her heels, ensuring everything was just perfect.

She was just like that. Every two weeks, what was left of her Scout Regiment batch would come over to her house on her insistence, and today was another such event.

The life and soul of the entire event, of course, was Freida, Historia’s little bundle of joy, her laughter echoing around the house as Gabi and Falco chased her, nearly crashing and banging down pieces of furniture. Everyone was there, but the dinner couldn’t start without-

“Levi-heicho!”

Freida’s joyous scream sent everyone to the gates to welcome the last two members remaining to start the new-year party. Reiner waved to everyone with a smile, while his cousin ran over to him, and Historia held a squirming Freida as she went to greet Levi. While Mikasa, Armin and Jean caught up with Reiner, laughing and talking after two weeks of scouts and missions, Historia and Annie smiled serenely seeing Freida practically jump into Levi’s outstretched arms – her favourite uncle by a landslide – and talk endlessly to him, in a language only he understood.

Historia led all of them to the table where her husband waited for them, and as the two of them began dishing out food for the guests, amidst the fragrance of the flowers and aroma of the food, with Mikasa and Annie fighting to help them out, a wave of happiness spread around, making them forget that once, they would have killed for this pure joy.

“It’s really good, Historia,” Jean remarked on a cake slice, and Historia smiled.

“Thanks,” she replied, “though I don’t get all the credit.”

“Of course you don’t. I brought the eggs and flour for that.” Her husband declared, and she rolled her eyes.

“I gave you the money to bring them, and this buddy,” she kissed her daughter’s chubby cheeks, “helped me out in making it.”

“Oh did you darling?” Annie, who was sitting just next to a proudly beaming Freida, who was looking towards Levi for approval. Getting the indication, he patted her head with a smile only few had ever seen. “Where did you learn it from?”

“My friend and mama taught me,” she told him, and then she wrinkled her nose. “But my friend isn’t good enough. She burned the cakes once.”

Sniggers followed this adorable declaration.

“She’s already made friends?” Connie commented. “I forgot she’s in school already. She grew up so fast.”

“Do you have any other friends?” Reiner asked the little boss.

And off she went like a machine gun.

“There’s this one girl who loves flowers so she came to my garden to be my friend,” she counted off her fingers, “then my best friend and I help her in homework. One boy is absent most of the time but when he comes he makes me laugh.” In the end, she threw her hands up. “I have a lot of friends. I have my own Regiment.”

“Regiment?” Jean snorted. “You know what’s that?”

“What Mama was,” she gave her answer with the wisdom of an elder.

“We all were with her too,” Mikasa told her, “and so was Levi-heicho.”

She whirled on him, as if asking for confirmation. Drinking his tea, he nodded. “I was these brats’ leader.”

“But you liked these brats, didn’t you?” Historia innocently asked. “You even let me punch you.”

“That was irrelevant.”

Freida then rapped her fingers on the table. “Levi-heicho, my friends told me you were very popular and you had a lot of friends.”

Silence spread on the table as every eye turned to the two.

“Is that true? Because here we only have,” she counted, “8 here.”

The silence was too loud as nobody knew how to approach the question. Very calmly, Levi put down his tea.

“Yes, I did.”

“Where are they? Why don’t they come over?”

“Freida.” Historia’s stern reprimanding came across the table. “Finish your-”

“Let her ask, Historia.” Levi waved her concern away. “They’re dead now.”

“Oh.”

Slowly, she got up and waddled over to him, everyone, even the former captain intrigued as to what her next step would be. Everyone’s heart melted when she looped her tiny arms around Levi.

“I’m sorry for asking,” she whispered, showing the princess side of hers. “You miss them, right?”

“He does,” Mikasa answered for him.

“But you still have us, and you have me!” Freida brightly said. “I’ll be your little friend!”

Levi picked her onto his lap and huffed amusedly. “You already are, brat.”

The rest of the dinner went fairly well, the others having found Armin and Annie their new subject of ridicule, and while Armin was red from the cheeks to his ears, Annie was fighting on all fronts.

When they were all done with the dinner, underneath the night sky, Historia stood up. “Well, if you wanna come inside, then sure. I’ll be bringing tea son, okay?”

Slowly, in pairs and threes, everyone went inside, but Freida and Levi were still outside. Freida stood silently beside him.

“Levi-heicho?”

“Hm?”

“Did I make you sad?”

“You could never.”

“I talked about your friends.”

“It’s not your fault for being curious. I…” Levi raised his eyes to the stars. “You remind me of someone, who was curious about the world, like you.”

“Was he your friend too?”

“…he was.” Eren, you would have loved this kid. He looked to see her bowing her head, biting her lip as if considering something. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“I was your mother’s captain. I know you too well.” He raised an eyebrow. “Say it.”

“Promise you won’t mind.”

“Promise.”

“Can you tell me about them?” Freida asked, quietly, afraid her mother will listen.

Levi sighed. This day was going to come, and he knew it’d hurt like hell when it did. “Fine.”

She took her designated place in his arms as he thought over the people he’d lost.

“I had a commander. He made me a Scout, and he was my brother.”

“What was his name?”

“Erwin Smith. We both trusted each other the most, and we knew what was on each other’s minds. He had a dream, but it didn’t come true. In the end, I promised I’d kill the Titan that killed him.”

“And you did, right?”

“Yeah.” He pointed towards the stitch marks on his face. “That’s how I got them.”

“I think you’re really brave,” she whispered, and with a few seconds gap, she looked up to him. “If I die, will you kill a Titan for me too?”

Levi’s hand curled in on itself as he froze, remembering Erwin’s promise and how heavily it had weighed on him.

“Tch. What kind of a question is that?”

Unconvinced, Freida titled her head, and he sighed.

“I hope you’ll live longer,” he said, hiding how her words had shaken him, and he searched to change the subject.

“Did you have a friend who was a girl?” Freida understood the assignment.

“Yes. Hange Zoe. She was the craziest person I ever knew.” He shook his head.

Oh, I wish I’d get to fight an Abnormal!

“She was fascinated by Titans. She annoyed me because of how she used to think everything was enchanting, and even though we fought, there was nobody I trusted more, except Erwin. She even once saved my life.”

“I like her.”

“Yeah. She was fearless, and even in her last moments, she refused to be afraid.”

“And the friend you mentioned earlier?”

“Eren. That kid had passion inside of him, and it was what convinced me to take him under my wing. He wouldn’t win a fight, but he wouldn’t give up without at least trying. He could destroy the world, but he was still just a kid. I…” he closed his eyes, “I had a lot of things to say to that idiot. I sometimes wish he’d have lived to see the world he left us with.”

“You had really nice friends, Levi-heicho.”

“Yeah. But,” he lightly said, to try to take his mind off the waterfall of emotions, “I have your mother, and her friends. They are good people too.”

“We’ll never leave you alone, Levi-heicho.” She looked to the sky. “Hear me, Levi-heicho’s friends? I’ll take care of him. I promise.”

And while he looked at her with all the love in the world, he thought of all those he’d ever cared for. And as he and Freida went inside to the happy storm of colours inside, he wished they were here too, to see the sunrise they created for them.

[dozing-marshmallow]

Hey pookie, could you do a Cody and Ezekiel x coquette (thicc) reader please. That would so make my dad since it's been very off. I hope you have a nice day

-Lover Anon

Heyaa my love, sorry I couldn’t post this sooner, I hope you’ve been doing much better since you requested and hopefully you enjoy this.

For future reference, please don’t call me pookie. The term makes me feel very uncomfortable. Thank you! ^^

CODY X COQUETTE! “THICC”! READER X EZEKIEL ONE SHOT

You and the other contestants from the show decided to go on a nice shopping spree since Chris was too much of a dick to allow it back in New York City.

Alas you stood in front of a huge store, too nice to go in solo.

Looking around for any nearby assistance, you found two of your fellow contestants, standing around, not doing anything other than ogling mannequins.

So a grin curves on your glossy lips as you sweetly call,"Cody! Ezekiel! Can you come here please?"

They hurry to you, Cody being more enthusiastic,"Yes milady?"

“I need your help! I want something new to wear!” you chirped your dilemma.

"Did you hear that, Ezekiel? A hot girl wants our help!" the geek excitedly reiterates to his companion.

Said man flashes a smile of his own and finger guns,"Leave it to the Zeeke Master."

“Just so you know, I only called you both because you two were the nearest. Don’t let this get to your head.” you hummed, making a head start into the girls’ aisle. The cutesy style of the store finally got to the two as they furiously blush for different reasons.

“Girls...” Ezekiel scoffed as he follow you,“Why do they care so much about clothes? I’ve worn this thing for the last five years!”

Cody takes a sniff and grimaces,“Yeah... I believe that.”

An hour passes and you guys were still stuck at square one.

“How about this, eh?” the homeschooled contestant suggested at some point, holding up a salmon pink cardigan.

You take one look at it, and your face tightens at the thought of putting it on your body,“What size is that?”

He checks the label,“Uhh... It says M yo.”

You cock your head sceptically,“Medium? Is there no L? Or XL?”

Cody looks through the hangers of that particular cardigan, nervously beaming,“Uh... Looks like this was the only size.”

“Seriously? And you guys thought that would fit me?” you hmphed unimpressed,“I need you to have your best owl eyes for me, okay? Thanks!”

Before Ezekiel threw the cardigan back over his shoulder, Cody pulled him in for a secret,“Hey... I saw somewhere online that when girls wear something that’s a size too small for them, they look as hot as if they’re just in a bra!”

“Aw man! Why’d you not say that before? We coulda seen something great!” Ezekiel groaned, yellow stuck between his teeth.

“Guys!” the familiar voice of femininity yelled for them.

“Coming!” they both yelled back in response.

Seven hours now. And you’re still going. Not once pausing for a break or food.

Whether it was intentional on your part or not, it seemed like you were gonna stay in here after closing hours.

Until suddenly, you declared,“I found it! I found what I was missing!”

The boys immediately raced to your side, buzzing with curiosity,"What was it? What was it?"

“This!” You squealed, holding up-

A necklace.

That small thing they could have made in the time they massacred rummaging in this girl shop.

The two had to take a break from reality when they saw that small thing in your hands.

“Are you serious? We spent hours just for you to pick something that’s barely noticeable?” Cody asked in disbelief.

“For real? You made me touch all that pink stuff for you to pick that puny thing? Not cool, man.” Ezekiel scoffed, crossing his arms.

“Lady! And this is just what I needed! It's so dainty!" you squealed, admiring yourself in the mirror,"This will go so well with my outfits!”

The boys sigh exasperated at the same time. You couldn't have just gone to a jewellery store when none of the clothes matched your liking?

Witnessing their reactions in the reflection, you decide to reward them with a kiss on their heads.

“Thanks guys! Your help's like, really appreciated. Maybe you both can help me find a wedding dress when the day comes!”

Their exhaustion melted when they felt your lips against their temples, successfully able to glance back at each other with optimism for their future errand.

“Well, that’ll be easier, right?" Cody fixes a shaky smile.

Ezekiel snorts,"I mean. It’s a white dress. They’re all similar anyway.”

“Oh no! I’m not going traditional, boys!” you merrily announce, arms high in the air,“I’m gonna have a pink sunset themed wedding!”

The optimism of both boys cut off as they could only glance back at each other with the alarm of the new knowledge circulating in each of their widened eyes.

“NOOOOOOOOO!”

[00venator]

What are the Ssca? And how would your characters react to my XCOM commander MEC helping the battle? My commander would probably just randomly be fighting aliens as he loves using weapons and hates aliens,so he just goes on hunts (Do remember my commander MEC is a combination of the gun love and manic love of using weapons i have combined with the combot programming of a MEC in the 8ft tall MEC frame with a chaingun and a powerfist)

There’s quite a bit of lore to Ssca. So here, text slab:

Ssca are one of many nations from planet Ruka. There xenophobic, fascist, and theocratic. There ethnic group (Scaa) looks very different from the other rikeuninerd, because they’ve been practicing eugenics for 30’000 odd years. Basically, they suck.

They wear this “we’ll fix everything for you” mask and they truely think what there doing is for greater good. “Adopt our religion and everything will be fine!” “Put this person in charge of everything because they live in a desert and have an opal pendant!” “We’ll fix your politics!!” “Your economics!!” “Make it better!!” “But first we have to kill the degenerates!!” “Build a wall!” “Send em to the oil rigs if they decent!”

Ssca is responsible for the Ssca dispute, a period of fluctuating unrest, characterised by racially motivated terrorism, political upheaval, and wars instigated by Ssca. It began around 27,000 BCE.

Throughout the Ssca dispute, The Ssca empire was reformed three times, with Sscaaa followers existing as insurgents when a government wasn’t present.

1st Ssca empire

For a long time people had been shunning individuals who did wrong. Lots of these individuals were violent pirates and religious extremists from a particular fishing union, Dy. At 27’000 BCE under Zyroo (means leader person) Scrsysysa, Ssca was formed as a separate nation from Dy as even Dy hated Scrsysysa.

Scrsysysa became a self proclaimed god cause Scrsysysa found some opals while surviving in the desert. This layed down the foundations for Ssca’s religious sect and politics. After 50 years of isolation in Scayikra’s far east, shunned individuals lead by Scrsysysa declared war on the entire Scayikra continent. This was the 1st Ssca dispute, where Ssca launched terrorists attacks on other quasi-states. Ssca invented guns and built a border wall, and for 11'237 years had control over all the high desert and east Scayikra, being the Kuka’s (planet) first military superpower.

That was until corruption and rebellion got to em. Ssca fell, re-forming a ton of the nomadic groups that had been oppressed, as well as some new ones, collectively known as Sluea by Ssca (basically means “anarchist”). Ssca still existed, but as one of the many groups, and they didn’t cause as many issues… until.

2nd Ssca empire

Founded by Scyzyzy at at 16’302 BCE the 2nd Ssca empire was a complete failure. Scyzyzy declared war on Screea, marking the 2nd Ssca war, to get revenge on them being “responsible for the downfall of Ssca.”

This guy was basically bird Mussolini. Scyzyzy ordered a bunch of naval ships to bombard Screea, wich all got stuck in a canal and were destroyed in a matter of hours. The war lasted 1.5 years (that’s by the Georgian calendar, this is like a month to them). There where lots of useless air raids from Ssca during this war.

The 2nd Ssca empire fell when they capitulated at the end of the war.

3rd Ssca empire

Arguably the worst literation of Ssca, the 3rd Ssca empire was founded by Scykykyky in 1923 after Ruka’s currant superpower Ra Reik drew up Scayikra borders, and gave Ssca borders.

At this time Ssca also made FTL (faster than light) travel. They’d never get the opportunity to develop spaceships tho. For now they just jump drones n people threw time and space.

Ssca set out on a mission to reclaim not only their former territory, but where also secretly locating other planets. Earth was one of those. They started spying on humanity and planning a genocide invasion, and also kidnapped people.

From 1974 there was the beginning of an ever worsening Cold War. The unease that occurred beforehand is considered a part of the larger dispute: it’s argued when this Cold War actually started.

In 2024 the 3rd Ssca war started when a reconnaissance unit proved that Ssca was braking international laws, prompting Ssca to declare wars early, as to keep people from discovering there atrocities. Humanity, mostly unknowing to what Ssca had been doing, got involved in this war.

For your second question, I’ll reblog this post cause it’s *long* already.

[khande11]

Millie Winchester- Season 1

Scarecrow- 3

Millie was brushing her teeth in the bathroom, when she heard Mateo calling her. She came out, pausing when she saw Sam standing at the door.

"Sam." Millie whispered, running to her brother and hugging him tightly.

"Hey, Millie." Sam smiled, hugging her back. "I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, it's okay. What... what are you doing here?"

"I called Matty. He told me where you were."

"You're... you're not going to California?"

"No. That's what I wanted to talk to you about. Dean called me last night. He said about the scarecrow and the pagans and the town."

"Yeah, he called me, too."

"Thing is, I haven't been able to reach him since. It just keeps going to voicemail." Sam told her, as Millie's eyes widened.

"We've got to get to that town."

****************

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God!" Emily, the female sacrifice, screamed as she saw a shadow moving closer to her and Dean.

"Dean?" Sam called out.

"Oh! Oh, I take everything back I said." Dean declared, happily. "I'm so happy to see you. Come on." Sam began untying Dean from the tree. "How'd you get here?"

"'Got this' my ass!" Millie snarked, popping out from behind the tree with Mateo, and moving to untie Emily. "I had to do 80 mph to get here; I could've gotten arrested."

"Haha! That's my girl!" Dean laughed, knowing his sister's reckless driving probably scared the crap out of Mateo and Sam. "Mateo, keep an eye on that scarecrow. He could come alive any minute."

"What scarecrow?" Mateo asked, looking around the area. Dean stood up, looking at where the scarecrow had been. The hunters saw that the post was empty and exchanged a nervous look.

***************

The hunters ran through the woods, trying to find a specific tree that they needed to destroy.

"Alright, now, this sacred tree you're talking about-" Sam began.

"It's the source of its power."

"So let's find it and burn it." Millie said.

"Nah, in the morning." Dean told them. "Let's just shag ass before Leather Face catches up."

They ran into a clearing where they were stopped by Emily's aunt and uncle, aiming their gun. 

"This way." Dean said, leading them in another direction, only to be stopped by more of the townspeople. Soon enough, they were surrounded by the townspeople.

"Please. Let us go." Emily pleaded.

"It'll be over quickly. I promise." Emily's uncle, Harley, told her.

"Please."

"Emily, you have to let him take you. You have to-" Harley was cut off when the scarecrow's sickle plunged into his stomach. Emily and her aunt, Stacy, screamed. Emily ran into Dean's arms as the scarecrow pulled his sickle out of Harley and grabbed hold of Stacy. The townspeople began running away as the scarecrow dragged Harley and Stacy away.

"Come on, let's go." Dean told the others, leading them away from the clearing. When they were at a safe distance, they turned back to the woods, but saw no sign of the scarecrow or its victims.

***************

By morning, the group walked up to the sacred tree with gasoline and a lighter at the ready. Sam and Millie began dousing the tree in gasoline, making sure to cover all of it. Dean picked up a branch, lighting it.

"Let me." Emily said, taking the branch off of Dean.

"You know, the whole town's gonna die." Dean told her.

"Good." Emily responded, throwing the branch onto the tree as the five of them watched the tree go up in flames.

***************

The hunters took Emily to a bus stop, waving her off as she headed to Boston.

"Think she's going to be alright?" Millie asked.

"I hope so."

"And the rest of the townspeople, they'll just get away with it?" Sam asked.

"Well, what'll happen to the town will have to be punishment enough." Dean shrugged, as they made their way to the Impala. "So, can I drop you off somewhere?"

"No, I think you two are stuck with me." Sam said, making Millie smile.

"What made you change your mind?"

"I didn't. I still want to find Dad. And you're still a pain in the ass." Sam smirked as Dean nodded. "But, Jess and Mom- they're both gone. Dad is God know where. You and me. We're all that's left. So, if we're going to see this through, we're going to do it together."

"Hold me, Sam." Dean said, pretending to get emotional, placing a hand on Sam's shoulder. "That was beautiful."

"Don't ruin it." Millie laughed, as Sam pushed him away.

"You should be kissing my ass, and Millie's, you were dead meat, dude."

"Yeah, right. I had a plan, I'd have gotten out." 

"Right." Sam smiled. Millie went to get in the car when she spotted Mateo leaning against his, waving at them.

"I'll be right back." Millie told her brothers, who smirked, knowing where she was heading. Millie walked over to Mateo who smiled at her, endearingly.

"Hey. So, they've kissed and made up?" Mateo asked, gesturing to Sam and Dean.

"Yeah." Millie smiled, then cleared her throat, nervously. "So, where are you off to?"

"I got a call from one of my contacts. He needs a hand with a hunt. Thought I'd help out."

"Right. Um, listen... thank you, for staying with me and cheering me up."

"It was my pleasure." Mateo grinned. Millie chewed on her lip thoughtfully, nodding her head. Then she made the bold decision to lean up, grab Mateo's face and press her lips to his in a kiss that she had been wanting to do for years. Mateo was shocked at first, but smiled into the kiss as he leaned forward.

Millie could hear her brothers whistling in the background and figured it was a good time to separate from the kiss. She looked up at Mateo, her cheeks pink, and smiled when she saw the content look on his face.

"Bye." Millie waved, heading back to the Impala. Mateo waved back with a goofy smile. She avoided eye contact with her grinning brothers, choosing to quickly jump in the backseat.

"That was so sweet." Dean cooed, teasing his sister.

"Oh, just adorable." Sam joined in.

"You know, I think I liked it better when you two weren't talking." Millie grumbled as the siblings drove off.

[desperatecheesecubes]

As much as Bruce still professes to ‘work alone’ it is true that the bat cave is rarely empty, these days. His children, and the children that are not his but are his responsibility, gather in clusters throughout the cave at all hours. And yet, Bruce finds himself nearly alone this early morning, post patrol. Nearly alone, Bruce thinks over a cup of tea (Alfred has been a tremendous influence on him) because just stepping out of the showers is Jason. And his hair is dripping wet.

He never did take the time to dry it, Bruce muses. It is almost comforting to see that this habit has stuck with him.

When Dick first came to live in Wayne manor Bruce had, semi regularly, helped him towel off after washing. Not because a 9 year old child needed help but because Dick was a very tactile child and because Bruce, largely, was a very non tactile adult. And so it became a habit where Bruce would dry Dick’s hair by playfully attacking his head with a towel until Dick would inevitably and full of laughter beg him to stop. But Bruce would simply kiss his forehead and keep right on doing it because he could, and it was fun, and also because Bruce loved to hear Dick’s joyful laugh.

Jason had come to the manner at an older age than Dick had. Although there were only three years between 9 and 12, developmentally there was a canyon between the two. On top of this Jason was initially very distrustful of Bruce, and by the end their relationship had been strained. But there had been, briefly, a time in between where Bruce would dry his hair after patrol and kiss his second son’s forehead as well.

Hmmmm. Putting the tea cup down Bruce made his way down from the raised platform of the bat computer to where Jason sat taping his knuckles. Jason was using his guns less, it was true, but he seemingly could not be persuaded to stop punching criminals in the face (angrily). And also the cops (delightedly). And also his siblings (usually playfully, Bruce will admit). And also Bruce (definitely not playfully). His hands, Bruce noted, were actually dry.

Grabbing a towel from the shelf stealthily Bruce walked up to Jason. ‘You look like you missed a spot.’ He said, aiming for a conversational tone.

‘Wuh? With my knuckles?’ Jason began in confusion. He half turned towards Bruce, face scrunched up in irritation.

So Bruce threw the towel right over it and cheerfully began attacking his hair from both directions. ‘Your hair isn’t dry.’ He declared, aiming for that slightly higher pitched voice he used when the kids were younger, making sure to smoosh Jason’s face as well as his hair.

‘Bruce what the fuck! Get off of me!’ Jason barked, trying bat Bruce’s hands away. Bruce of course just twisted out of the way and rubbed harder.

‘You can’t be walking around with wet hair Jason, you’ll catch a cold!’ He practically sang. Jason finally got wise and yanked the towel from Bruce’s hands, glaring up at him angrily. Bruce just grinned, expecting this, and tilted Jason’s face up to kiss his forehead.

‘Gah!’ Jason eloquently responded.

Taking advantage of his momentary confusion Bruce grabbed the towel back and resumed his ministrations on Jason’s hair.

‘Oh my god!’ Jason cried. ‘You’ve lost your mind. Stop that!’ He tried to yank the towel away again but Bruce brought the towel up over his face roughly, preventing him. When Jason made to grab Bruce around the hips to knock him over, Bruce whipped the towel off and kissed Jason’s forehead again.

By now Jason was laughing inspite of himself, and Bruce was grinning, feeling more comforted and relaxed than he had in a very long time. The two continued their antics for a while more before Jason finally managed to hook a leg around Bruce’s ankle, tipping him forward.

‘Oof’ Bruce grunted, as Jason’s shoulder caught him in the stomach, but Jason just twisted slightly so that he could bring his arms around Bruce’s waist and lean his head against his chest. ‘I love you, Jason.’ Bruce said, hugging him tightly back.

‘Yeah yeah, you old lug. I can dry my own hair you know!’

‘Clearly not, considering how wet it was.’

‘Oh my god, dad, it’s fine.’

‘Hmmm’

‘Was that jasmine tea you were drinking? Can I have some?’

‘There should be enough for another cup in the pot.’

[storyunrelated]

War of Dakka (Dat's a working title)

Continue to chip away at my nascent 'Orks and Tau' idea (with obvious title) and I've done this first bit.

Curious if it is hitting the right notes. Suppose we'll see.

-

Lugnut, self-proclaimed best mek on the planet, was putting the finishing touches onto a personal project. He did this regularly, to the frustration of those who had actually given him money to do specific things.

Today’s project was a new type of gun, much like yesterday’s project and, indeed, tomorrow’s project, too. These aliens might have been weedy cowards who hid behind  things and shot you from far too far away and never stuck around for a proper scrap, but they certainly had a lot of very exciting guns - exactly the sort of thing that endlessly sparked a mek’s fertile imagination (and provided material with which to see this fertility bear fruit).

This particular gun was an improvement on an existing model. It had hitherto been attached to the arm of one of those weird jumpy kans the aliens had, at least until it had been liberated in a notably impressive explosion. The gun - a lovely, chunky, boxy one that Lugnut knew for a fact melted stuff right good - had then been salvaged, somehow made its way back, and even more somehow wound up in Lugnut’s hands, where it was now all set to enjoy a new lease on life.

“Get dat target over dere!” Lugnut barked, impatient. He’d finally finished hammering out the kinks on the gun (literally hammering them out) minutes earlier and the fact he hadn’t yet had a chance to shoot at something was starting to agitate. If the grot didn’t get the target in place soon Lugnut felt he’d just pick whichever part of his workshop he was least attached to and shoot in that direction. 

Firing at an actual target was mostly a formality, anyway. Made you look more professional.

But if you were on your own did that really matter? Lugnut was starting to think no.

With a final heave and an obvious level of putting its tiny back into it, the grot succeeded in shoving the vaguely fire warrior-shaped collection of junk into position. Lugnut did not wait until the grot cleared the range before opening fire. He was far too excited to waste that kind of time. Grinning, he whipped it up and pointed more-or-less the right way and squeezed the trigger. There was a crack and a flash and a clap and the target was gone, along with a good chunk of the wall behind it and the hut on the other side. Something was on fire, too, but it wasn’t anything of his so it didn’t matter.

“Dat’s dead good, dat is,” Lugnut said to himself with pride, grinning broadly.

“Psst,” said a voice by his ear.

Lugnut stopped grinning abruptly and whirled, raising his wrench and swiping it through what turned out to be empty air. Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he whirled again, finding himself face-to-face with Ripslik.

The kommando was smiling at him. Never a pleasant sight.

“Zog me, Ripslik! Why you gotta be sneakin’ in here for anyway?” Lugnut growled, wrench lowering again. Ripslik chuckled. Never a pleasant sound.

“Hur. Sorry, Lugnut - force ’abit, ain’t it?”

This was why no-one liked kommandos. That this particular kommando was also a proper Blood Axe as well only made it worse. No-one liked Blood Axes, either.

Especially Blood Axes who showed up with sacks.

“Yeah yeah. Wot’s all dis den?” Lugnut asked, eyeing both Ripslik and the sack with (frankly, warranted) suspicion. Ripslik was used to getting looks like this so it didn’t bother him all that much. He gestured emphatically at the sack, complete with all the obvious tau equipment it had already had poking out the top.

“Wot’s it look like? Bitz! I got a projekt for ya!” Ripslik declared, grinning. Lugnut’s interest was piqued immediately. That word tended to have that effect on meks.

“Bitz, eh? Bluey bitz?” he asked, his interest piqued. Ripslik grinned wider, which even for another ork was a disquieting experience.

“Course.”

A ‘bluey’ in this instance being a tau, for clarity. The orks had a variety of names on offer for them, mostly because very few of the orks on the planet had actually discovered - or bothered to try and discover - the name of the tau. It didn’t seem especially important. They were enemies foremost and aliens second - everything else after that was just unnecessary detail.

Lugnut reached into the sack, rummaged, and produced a dark helmet. It was a little beyond dark, actually. Light seemed to somehow just fall into whatever it was the armour had been coated in, making it darker than dark and, frankly, kind of difficult to look at.

A head then fell out of the helmet and bounced off of Lugnut’s boot.

“Eurgh! Dere’s still alien in dis one!” He said with distaste, turning the helmet over and grimacing at the mess he could now see was on the inside. Blood and guts was one thing, that was fine, but blood and guts on the bitz? That was uncalled for. Ripslik was unmoved.

“It’ll ‘ose off! Stop bein’ a grot ‘bout a bit a blood!”

“S’more dan blood! It’s leakin’ all ova ma floor! Look!” Lugnut said, glowering and pointing to the sack which was indeed leaking all over the floor. Still glowering, Lugnut turned to one side of his workshop where lounged about half a dozen grots, half of whom appeared to be napping. “Oi! You lot! Stop lazin’ about and clean this up! Now!”

To punctuate this order - and to emphasise its urgency - Lugnut threw one of the several weighty spanners he just-so happened to have hanging about his person. His aim was very good (this wasn’t the first time he’d done this) and one of the grots did not get up to join the rest as they hurried over, grabbing mops and buckets as they went.

Ignoring all of this and especially ignoring the grots, the two orks continued.

“Wot you talkin’ ‘bout ‘projekt’ anyway? Wot you want?”

Ripslik pulled another piece of armour - what looked to be a chunk of the torso plating of a stealthsuit, just as painfully dark as the helmet - from the sack and waved it about demonstratively.

“Da bluey’s got dese sneaky suits, yeah?”

“The one’s wot turn invisible?” Lugnut asked, digging a finger absent-mindedly into his ear.

“Yeah, ‘dose ones,” Ripslik said with just the hint of a growl.

Ripslik had a complicated relationship with tau stealth teams.

On the one hand he had a profound professional distaste for anyone else attempting to intrude on his covert realm, particularly if they did so by cheating with fancy wotsits. Turning invisible? That wasn’t fair, and it meant you weren’t proper sneaky, either. On the other, he did have to admit they were at least reasonably good at what they did. For cheating alien scum.

Then again, so he’d come to consider, if he could turn invisible he could probably do it even better than they could, him not being an alien and all, and him being dead sneaky to start with. With him it wouldn’t even really be like cheating, not like how they did it. He’d just be getting up to some new level of sneaky no kommando had ever reached before. That was just sensible! 

It was this line of thought that had inspired the project.

So he’d started making a point of hunting the stealth teams down specifically, something which had cost him a fair few boys and (perhaps more importantly) a good amount of teef, too, when he’d splashed out on a scanny-wotsit made by another mek who had assured him it would flawlessly reveal anything invisible. When it worked. Smacking the thing against the head of the mek in question had done much to improve its performance, so Ripslik felt.

Still, despite the setbacks and the outlays, he had met with success. Partly on account of his natural talents, partly on account of the tau stealth teams not considering that something might be hunting them.

They knew now, obviously, but that was a bit late for some of them.

“Wot ‘bout ‘em?” Lugnut asked.

“I wanna get one of ‘dere suits, but proper orky - better! So I got the bits. Dat’s da project.”

“You want an alien invisisuit ‘fing?”

“Yeah!”

The idea of specifically building something that was for hiding sat distastefully with Lugnut, who grimaced, trying and failing to think of a way to make it more palatable to his sensibilities.

“I dunno…”

“Well, if you don’t fink yer up ta it I guess I can take dis here scrap to Snakrot…” Ripslik said, leaning in to pick up the sack again. Snakrot being another mek. The one who’d made the flawless (when working) scanny-wotsit. He probably wouldn’t have been especially seeing Ripslik again, given how their last meeting had went, but Lugnut didn’t know that.

“You wot,” said Lugnut with flat dangerousness.

“E’s dead ‘andy wiv dis bluey tek, I ‘eard. Could prob’ly knock it up right quick, yeah,” Ripslik said breezily. Lugnut scowled and jabbed a calloused, oil-stained finger.

“You better wotch it wiv’ ‘dat talk. You tryin’ ‘ta, uh, si-col-a-gee me wiv’ some grotty kommando trick, get me to do wot you want!”

“Nevah! Just sayin’, if yer not mek enough den I know anuvver one who’ll do it.”

“I’m mek enough! I can do it easy! No problem at all! Squig-fer-brains zoggin’ kommando scum…” Lugnut grumbled, quickly adding: “S’gonna cost you ‘tho! S’not cheap fiddlin’ with this stuff!”

“I come prepared!” Ripslik said, reaching back to unhook from his sneakin’ sack a smaller sack that was not for sneaking, but was in fact full of teef (some his, most not). He dropped it on the floor next to the sack of bits and it landed with a satisfyingly rattly crunch, the sound that all orks so enjoyed. Lugnut prodded the sack with a boot.

“Dis it?”

Ripslik’s turn to scowl.

“Wot you mean ‘Dist it?’?! Dis is more teef dan most Orks’ see in a life!”

Patently untrue. Lugnut shrugged.

“Yeah, well, s’not enuff, issit? Big job, dis!” He said.

Ripslik briefly considered the odds on getting what it was he wanted if he killed Lugnut on the spot. Long, he decided, and he really did want some of those suits. He quickly cooked up a workable alternative. Initiative like this was a hallmark of kommandos, doubly so for proper Blood Axe kommandos.

“Well, how ‘bout dis? How ‘bout I get you one’a dem big stompa fings o’ theirs?” He said.

Ripslik did not know what a Riptide was actually called, neither did he care. Lugnut did not know what they were called either, but he knew exactly what it was Ripslik was talking about, and his ears pricked up.

“You wot?”

“I know where ‘dey got one - ‘an lots of uvver dakka, too. They fink they got a secret hidey-hole, but I know ‘about it, I ‘found it. Howsabouts I get you one’a ‘dem, eh?” Ripslik asked. Lugnut’s mind was already starting to run away with the possibilities.

“One’a ‘dem with the, ah, you know, the-” he mimed the arm cannon of a Riptide and acted out hosing down something with a withering torrent of fearsome energy, complete with sound-effects. Ripslik nodded. He knew what the mek was referring to. The spinny ones.

“Yeah, yeah, one’a ‘dose ones.”

“I could do with one’a dose…” Lugnut said, dreamily, mind wandering off briefly to somewhere wonderful with a lot of screaming and explosions and gunfire before snapping back to the moment and the practical problems involved. “How you gonna get it back? They fry boyz wot try to get in ‘em.”

This Lugnut knew from experience. Not personal experience or else he wouldn’t have been around to say anything about it, but he’d shoved enough grots into enough battlesuits to know the sneaky aliens had made arrangements to stop you just stealing the things. He was working on a way of getting around that, but it wasn’t ready yet. He’d get through a lot of grots before it was ready, he knew, but that was the price of progress.

(On the plus side, the suits crisped the grots up super-nice, so for every failure you at least got a snack out of it. Every cloud.)

“You leave dat to me. We got a deal?” Ripslik asked.

Lugnut knew better than to trust a Kommando. Indeed, he knew better than to trust any Ork attempting to cut a deal with him, or any Ork he passed outside his workshop, or just any Ork at all, really. But still, the mental picture of one of those really, really big shiny battlesuits kept popping into his head, stomping all over his good sense. He might even have drooled a bit.

“Alright. You bring me one’a dem fings - in one piece! - and I’ll do yer armour. For yer lads, too!” He said. That was called motivation, that was. Dead cunning idea he’d picked up from somewhere - or come up with on his own? Probably on his own, on reflection. Another good idea! He was full of them!

Ripslik hadn’t expected this bonus.

“I’ll ‘old you to dat!” 

“Yeah yeah. Just leave da bitz.”

“Yer ‘avin a laugh - leavin’ bitz ‘round fer a mek…safe keepin’! Har! Nah, I know a safe spot for dese - you’ll get ‘em later!”

It had been worth a shot.

“Fair play,” Lugnut said.

Sweeping up the sack of teef and the sack of bits and slinging both over his shoulders Ripslik made his exit, as quiet as his entrance had been and just as impressive given he was carrying a whacking great leaking, clanking sack. Lugnut was all set to get back to work when the grot who had pushed the target into position and who had, in defiance of reason and in a burst of unbelievable luck, actually survived, perhaps unwisely chose this moment to stick his head up again and appeared at Lugnut’s elbow.

“Gun works good, boss!”

Whack.

Lugnut had better luck with his wrench this time. The grot’s luck, however, couldn’t stretch quite as far as they might have wanted it to, and certainly not so far as to allow it cheat death twice in one day.

“Gotta clean ma wrench now…” Lugnut muttered, scratching himself and wandering off to find something to fix.