#but there's nothing wrong with imagining it

[hrrtshape]

✶ THINGS TO REMEMBER WHEN YOU’RE DOUBTING SHIFTING.

𖥻  SPACE. just.. HELLO ?? we are literally a speck of dust in a ginormous cosmic playground that we can’t even fully explore because we’re too busy figuring out if cats can vibe to beethoven or if that godforsaken dress is white or blue. you think THIS is the only reality? somewhere out there, there’s a planet where the sky is pink, dogs talk, and you’re riding unicorns. shifting is NOT a crazy concept.

𖥻 DINOSAURS. THEY. WERE. REAL. like actual dragons without wings, stomping around, acting like they owned the place. if THAT can exist, why not shifting ? you think the universe peaked at “giant chickens with teeth”? no way. reality is way too wild for limits.

𖥻 DÉJÀ VU. EXPLAIN IT WITHOUT THE MULTIVERSE. I DARE YOU. why do we randomly feel like we’ve been here before, done this before, or even said this before? because we HAVE. somewhere, somewhen, sometime. you’re already living proof of infinite realities brushing shoulders.

𖥻 QUANTUM PHYSICS (4 da nerdies). scientists out here with their schrödinger’s cats and double-slit experiments proving that reality isn’t fixed. it’s ALL probabilities until you observe it.

𖥻 YOU'RE HUMAN. our brains are INSANE. dreams? lucid dreams? daydreaming? thinking of a time and feeling like you just tasted it? if your brain can already do ALL THAT, shifting is just another level. literally just....closing your eyes and opening them in another place.

𖥻 YOU'RE ALREADY DOING IT. every time you daydream or even think “what if,” you’re stepping closer to a version of yourself in another reality. you're peeking through the multiverse’s window. shifting is just diving in instead of peeking.

𖥻 YOUR DESIRES EXIST. if you can imagine it, it exists somewhere. that’s not wishful thinking; that’s logic. where do ideas come from if not from infinite possibilities? you’re not just dreaming—you’re remembering. nothing goes by you without a purpose. if it found you, it was supposed to !!!!!!!

𖥻 THE MANDELA EFFECT. remember when pikachu definitely had a black tail tip, or when the berenstain bears were called the berenSTEIN bears? reality’s already glitchy as fuck. shifting? just another glitch—but YOU’RE IN CONTROL.

𖥻 FAIRYTALES HAD TO COME FROM SOMEWHERE. you think someone just WOKE UP and said, “dragons, magic castles, enchanted forests!” no. no. no. those stories? they’re just whispers from realities where that’s NORMAL. you’re not making it up—you’re tuning in. experiencing it. liviiiiiiiing it.

𖥻 TIME IS FAKE. i said it. not to get too conspiratorial on my tumblr blog, but what even IS time? a straight line? a wibbly-wobbly thingy? we made clocks, but the universe? the universe is, like, “what is a ‘tuesday’?” shifting doesn’t care about time; it’s above all that silly nonsense. and so are you.

𖥻 PARALLEL UNIVERSE ARE A THING ('n' SCIENCE effing SAID SO). quantum mechanics already told us there’s an infinite number of realities where every possibility plays out. in one of them, you’re already living your best life. shifting is just YOU popping in to say hi to THAT version of you.

𖥻 REALITY IS (lowkey) BORING WITHOUT BELIEF. why settle for “this is it. this is my life. a 9-5 job. a life which i barely live out” when the multiverse is basically screaming, “come explore!!” ? you’re a creator. you’re a wanderer.

𖥻 "I FEEL IT" IS ENOUGH. don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. if you can close your eyes and feel that DR, the love, the magic, the LIFE—you’re already there. the multiverse doesn’t need proof; it needs belief. so don't let idiots with half a brain on tik tok tell you that you're wrong, when you're so, so, so, so, SOOOO close to BEING THERE and living your best life.

𖥻 finally, LITERALLY, WHY NOT ?  life’s already bananas. people thought flying was impossible, and now we’re out here booking ryanair flights to halfway across the world. people said sex with robots isn't true, and kim k is already siting on a robot's lap. people said the government cannot be stupid, and elon musk is already part of it. shifting is just the next “impossible” (and not to be cheeky...but the word literally has 'i'm possible' in it) thing that YOU are proving possible.

so. girl. dude. diva. bro. go shift.

[mygayasslovesbluealiens]

ʚDAD!SWANSEA X GN!READERɞ + ❀DAISUKE X GN!READER❀

SUMMARY : your dad gets a job in space and returns a bit different, though, at the dinner table he meets someone familiar.

WARNINGS : SPOILERS!!! A little angst.

WORD COUNT : 2,394

A/n : I wrote this cuz some of y'all loved this idea. I didn't edit it so there might be some mistakes.

Click "Keep reading" for more!❀ʚɞ☟

You and your dad had an unbreakable bond. Ever since you came to the family, that man was attached to you by the hip.

He was a typical dad, throwing dad jokes around, carrying you around his shoulders, hanging your silly drawings on the fridge. Yeah, it was safe to say that he made you feel loved.

When your younger siblings came you were more than excited, you tried your best to suppress your happiness when your dad put your baby sister in your arms.

Just a child carrying a baby, how cute, your parents cooed at the sight.

But your dad never stopped giving you attention when your siblings were born, a matter of fact he tried his best to get you to bond with them, and it worked.

The more you grew up, the more you started discovering yourself. Everyday you'd find yourself a new hobby, and that hobby of yours started to show more in your teen years.

Your dad was actually thrilled but didn't show it. Like, one day you made him lunch, the second day you sculpted him, the other day you made him a scarf. Dam, he was proud.

School competitions? Yeah you joined them, and somehow won each single one (just imagine Swansea standing next to you with a smug grin on his face as he looks at the parents of the other contestants).

Then it hit him, it hit your dad that you weren't a child anymore, you were 17, your birthday in a few months. He was a bit heartbroken but knew that's how life is. You reassured him that you'll frequently visit them.

And that's how it went, you moved out, got a job, and started living your own life. But since you never really had any friends besides your co-workers, you payed frequent visits to your family. It was great, sitting at the dinner table and talking about your life and job.

Your mom did ask you about your dating life, it got a little heavy on you, but you did tell her that you were 'waiting for the right moment' and she let go of it.

At the mention of your job, your dad brought up the topic of his new job that he had applied to recently, apparently he was going to be a mechanic in a tulpar or something.

It... Something felt wrong, your gut was telling you that there was something wrong with what your dad had applied to. You brushed it off as you had nothing to say about it.

Until that day came, the day your dad left for the job. Before he went he spend a good time around you and your siblings. You made sure to hug him tight before he left, he joked about wanting to find a grandchild when he comes back from the job, which made your mom and sisters tease you about it.

Then he left...

For a few months nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You leave for work, hang out with your colleagues then visit your family. Nothing unusual.... Right?

It was when you stepped inside your family's home, a box of baked goods in your hands as you sat on the couch. Your sister practically snatched the box out of your grasp and inhaled half of the box's content.

You really didn't care as an uneasy feeling crept up your stomach. Brushing it off you looked at your mom who was busy on her phone. Taking a hold of the remote, you scrolled through channels, from one to the other. You kinds zoned out a bit, snapping back to reality when your mom dropped her phone, staring at the TV with a mortified expression. Looking at the TV screen, the colors on your face drained as you listened to the reporter's words.

The tulpar went missing...

Without missing a beat, you rushed to the bathroom and threw up from shock.

Why... Didn't you stop him from going?...

We're you scared that you'll come off as paranoid?...

Scared that you'll come off as clingy?...

Scared of disappointing your dad?...

Now look, he's now in the middle of space, in the middle of god knows where with limited food and resources to survive!

You were disappointed in yourself, you could've stopped him but you didn't.

After the incident, you quit your job and moved back to your old home to support your family. It wasn't easy, just thinking about what might've happened to your dad made you sick.

You'd gotten yourself a new job near your home. You were in control of the house now. Your mom became less energetic than she used to be, but you didn't care, you let her rest and have some time for herself.

As for your younger sisters, they started skipping school a lot, you went to the school yourself, to try to explain the situation to the school council to at least have some empathy for your sisters.

It was a draining job, you felt yourself become less and less bubbly than what you used to be. Your manager noticed it and decided to give you a break.

You wanted to cry, everything about this was overwhelming. You missed your dad, the guilt was eating you alive. Why did things go so wrong?

And that became your routine, maybe drive your sisters to school, comfort your mom, do your chores then lay on bed and cry yourself to sleep.

It was like your hope was completely shattered. You became more depressed those passing days, neglecting your own needs as you were busy helping out your family. Your mom took notice and tried helping you, pulling herself together so you can at least have a rest from all of this.

But what did you know? No one knows where your dad is, and it's your fault. You could've stopped him. But here we are.

Now you laid on the couch, staring at the ceiling just hoping something good would happen to at least give you some motivation to stay alive.

A slam from the door made you jolt up. You looked up to find your mom looking sweaty and rushed. When she saw you she screamed at you to get in the car. Absolutely freaked up, you sat in the passenger seat as she drove.

You were sure the police would pull you over at any moment by how fast your mom was driving, maybe crash into a few cars, but she didn't and that was good.

When she parked the car you found yourself at a hospital. Your mom dragged you there with her as she went to the elevator. Now inside, she stood there, shaking up. You wanted to ask her what had happened but didn't as your voice was stuck inside.

As soon as the elevator door open, you were dragged again to a room. Your heart was beating fast, your body sweating a bit from anxiousness.

The nurses let you inside the room. Scanning the room, you felt your jaw drop, there was your dad, sitting on the hospital bed with his left eye remaining and a scar on his forehead. Your eyes became hot with tears as your legs made you move to your father.

You immediately dropped your head on his lap as you sobbed. You felt like a kid again, as if you've woken up from a nightmare and went for your parents for comfort.

I mean... It was some sort of nightmare....

You managed to calm down a little. You felt your dad's hand on your head, patting you.

Moving to sit on the chair that the nurse provided you with, you looked up, seeing your dad stare at you.

"So, any grandchildren?..." You started crying again.

Your mental health have started to get better when your dad came back, your younger sisters were sobbing hard when they saw dad alive and well.

Seeing everything now back to normal, you suggested you move out again since you've done your job, but you had no other choice as you were forced to stay by your parents.

Now in a better mental state, you quite your job and got a new one at a cafe. You enjoyed your time there with your new co-workers. The customers were nice as well. It's as if a weight was lifted off your back.

Working at that cafe, you've met many lovely customers, but one had caught your attention. He came to the cafe every week, would order something then sit at one of the tables and do his thing.

He had brown hair, brown eyes, a scar in the middle of his face and some moles. He was cute. Wait what.

You never had an eye for anyone, so whys a random guy that visits your cafe suddenly cute? Weird...

Whatever, but these days, you've noticed something about him, he never orders, unless you were the one taking orders, you also noticed how he'd always tip you, despite your job paying you well. Does he.. Like you?.. Nah there's no way.

It was raining heavily outside, there was barely any customers, so you took your time to clean up the tables. You then made your way back to the register, made yourself something to drink as you waited for a customer.

Soon, the door bell rang, looking up from your phone you found no other than... Him.

"Hi what can I get for you?.." God your tone sounded rude, gotta work on that voice..

"Oh hey uhh, the usual you know.." He said awkwardly, scratching his head before looking away, sliding the cash on the surface of the register.

The usual was caramel frappe, sweeter than normal and some heated molten, he got a sweet tooth...

While doing his order you snuck glances at him, just to find him staring back.

Now placing his order in a tray, you made your way towards him, setting the tray down, you steadied your feet to walk away. "Hey! I'm sorry.."

You looked at him, he was wobbling in his seat as he tried to find his words. "So uhm... Can we.. Get to know each other?..."

Looking around the place, it was still empty, no customers, even if there was a customer, your co-worker Matthew would've delt with them so... You sat with him on the table.

The conversation was awkward at first, he confirmed your name and introduced himself. The conversation escalated quickly, you found out that you had a lot in common, you both the same age as well as you both had a passion for art.

You found yourself giggling at his jokes, amused by his humor. He also asked a lot about your interests, and like that you began to explain everything to him. Although, you were avoiding eye contact with him as he kept staring at you the entire time and you felt shy.

The night passed quickly, before he left, he handed you a pink envelope before walking out the door. Looking at the clock, your shift was going to end in a few minutes. You were curious about the envelope. Impatience and curiosity are the worst combos, being both, you opened up the envelope to find...

A detailed sketch of you, behind it he wrote his number and asked if he can go out sometimes...

Your heart skipped a beat when your brain processed everything. That night, you came home all giggly and smiley, your family took notice of that but didn't comment.

In the past new days, your family, especially your dad, took notice of your change.

At first, you didn't have a big skin care routine, but now, every morning, you're up early making sure everything's nice. Same with your clothes, you didn't pay much attention to your looks, now you're over here making sure you didn't wear the same fit twice.

Sometimes your parents caught you packing food in a tupperware while going out.

Something was off...

While your family wondered what you were up to, you were enjoying your time with Daisuke.

Few dates from time to time escalated to daily ones. He'd take you out to movies, restaurants, parks and cafes. He was a gentleman, doing cliche things to you every now and then.

He holds the door open for you, feed you sometimes, share his food with you and hold you close.

He started inviting you over to his place, it's when you started packing food you'd make for him.

And yeah, he's touchier in private, whenever you're at his place he's technically glued to you. Cuddling was his favorite thing to do whenever you watch a movie.

Not gonna forget to mention the gifts. He's always making you something. Either a drawing or some origami, and you loved them.

It took the both of you a few weeks to get comfortable with each other, with that, Daisuke started planting kisses on you everywhere, forehead, cheeks, lips, neck and hand.

And those weeks made you comfortable enough to tell your family about your new partner. You arranged a day for them to meet him and get to know him. Your dad was the one that suggested that idea, as he wanted to know if that boyfriend of yours was a real one or not.

Telling Daisuke about it, he was more than thrilled about the idea, he even asked you what outfit he should put on. It was quite the show. And the day finally came...

You, your mom and your sisters stared at the two scarred men in front of you. They were holding some... Intense eye contact.

Your dad's expression was unreadable while Daisuke pressed his lips together, a smile forming on his face as he tried to prevent himself from laughing.

"Pfft... L-long time no see..." Daisuke muttered before bursting into a fit of laughs. Snapping your head at your boyfriend, you looked back and forth at him and your dad.

"Wha- wait you know each other?!.." You asked, looking at your dad whos face-palming. "Yes.."

The dinner table was full of conversations, one side from Daisuke and how he was at the tulpar, the other Swansea exposing him and spilling the embarrassing things Daisuke had done.

After all, you all enjoyed the evening together. (But Swansea kept asking you for grandchildren)

[androgynealienfemme]

Respectfully I think everyone is in agreement here that the prison system as is doesn’t work. No one here thinks it does. No one in this thread has argued there’s nothing wrong with the system. It seems everyone agrees that most people in prison today should not be in prison and should be receiving other services.

The breakdown is happening because it seems you think people asking about the “outlier” cases is a distraction. But it isn’t. What do you think should happen to rapists? What about child abusers? Serial killers? People do actually wonder about that. Because yes obviously if we dealt with these issues preventively through different mental health services, social services, and psychoeducation than yeah, the number of these criminals would lessen over time. But what about the people who ARE just sadistic? Because they exist.

The convo is going in circles because every time the discussion reaches this point, we go to “they’re an outlier, and by asking about them you’re suggesting nothing should change” which doesn’t seem to be an argument here. People DO want to know what the ideas are for working with the severely violent. Because there ARE people for whom counseling doesn’t work. Who get around the legal systems. For the people who are repeated offenders, what is the solution? And I think it’s ok to say you don’t fully know what the solution for those people are. But I think it’s unfair to dismiss people by saying “you just want to imagine the most evil of evil bad guys” when currently there are many many instances of people committing these types of ‘evil’ in life.

[w1ld-wr1t3r]

could you write a cute lil drabble of reader who has anxiety (could be general or maybe something specific like being in a car) x lando norris and lando is a big comfort to the reader and then one day after a bad race the reader gets to be a comfort to him (i imagine their love language to be physical touch)!

Normally I don't like to write reader inserts, but I like this prompt so I'll give it a try just this once!

The greatest comfort in your life was Lando. He was one of the only ones who understood you, who understood what you went through. He never judged you when your anxiety got bad. He would just hold you close and whisper comforts in your ear, until you felt like yourself again.

Your anxiety often struck when you least expected it, snowballing from slight nerves to nearly immobilizing fear before you could stop it. You were more likely to have an attack when you were stressed, be it about work or your relationship or even just life in general. Lando was one of the only ones who had never made you feel bad about having anxiety, and he'd always done his best to help you through it, even when he'd been scared of doing something wrong. It was one of the many things you loved about him.

It wasn't often that you had to return the favor. He was so strong, taking steps to preserve his mental health and facing everything thrown at him with confidence. He wasn't immune to anxiety, but it struck him so infrequently that you hadn't had a chance yet to take care of him the way he'd always taken care of you. You would never wish for it to happen, never, but you did wish that you could show him how much you appreciated everything he did for you.

That time came unexpectedly after a wet race where things went completely to shit.

You'd nearly had to leave the garage halfway through the race, so anxious that you were almost vibrating out of your skin. Lando had had horrible luck today, ranging from a poorly-timed pit stop to caught in the crossfire of not one but two separate incidents on track. When a Williams collided with him on lap 42 and knocked him out of the race for good, you only breathed a sigh of relief because at least it was over now, and you didn't have to watch him try not to die out there any more.

You knew he would be upset, of course. Who wouldn't be after a race like that? You knew you had some of his favorite comfort meals on hand, and were ready to pull one of them out when you got home and start cooking. The activity would help calm your own nerves, and familiar food would hopefully lift his spirits, too.

But when you got back to your room, he was already there, and he was already crying.

You froze for a moment as you took in the scene before you. He wasn't just crying, you realized, he was sobbing. He was huddled on the sofa, curled into a ball and head in his shaking hands. Three different hoodies were strewn around him, like he'd been trying to find something comfortable and soothing to wear but nothing had done the trick. And he hadn't even changed out of his fireproofs. He must have come straight here as soon as he was free, too broken and upset to face anyone.

"Lando?" you asked cautiously, walking closer to him. He didn't stop crying, but didn't move away as you carefully sat next to him. "Are you -"

You cut yourself off before you finished the question. Of course he wasn't okay. Why ask the question when the answer was already obvious?

"Is there anything I can do to help?" you asked instead. You itched to pull him into your arms and hold him, hug him tight until the tension finally left him and he felt safe again. You wanted to ask what had made him cry, but you knew he probably wouldn't be able to tell you now, not while he was sobbing his eyes out and breathing little hiccupping breaths. You had a theory, though, that it was because he felt like he'd let everyone down today and was a failure. You wanted to tell him that that wasn't true, that he'd done amazing today, even with all of the odds stacked against him. He'd been so strong all day, and it was okay if he needed to cry now. You just wanted to help him through it.

Without looking up at you or saying anything, he leaned closer to you, reaching out with a whine. You understood what he wanted immediately, and tugged him to your chest for a hug. He sobbed into your shirt, burrowing into your arms until he felt like he was safe.

"Don't let me go," he whispered, sniffling. "P-please don't let me go."

You hugged him tight, rubbing his back soothingly. "I won't," you promised. "I'm here."

He settled deeper into your arms, clutching you like a lifeline. You continued to hold him, gently rubbing his back and occasionally whispering soothing words to him. You weren't anxious about the day's events at all any more - you were just glad that you could be here to help him through this.

Finally, after a long stretch of silence, he sniffled and whispered. "Th-thank you. I love you."

You smiled, giving him a gentle squeeze and kissing the top of his head. "I love you too."

You two had each other. And you were going to be okay.

[gloomwitchwrites]

141 when a younger recruit has a very obvious crush on you (not dating yet)

Oh, anon. I had fun with this one. Simply because it's a "we aren't dating yet so why are you jealous" scenario just waiting to happen. That's where my mind went with this. The boys have zero claim on you but they are possessive and territorial as fuck. omg. Do you hear that? It's me standing outside screaming because I need to get a fucking grip. Anyway! Enjoy!

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader (gn!reader except on Simon's)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): hidden feelings, jealousy, possessive behavior, intimidation, crushes, suggestive themes, swearing

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

John is the superior here. He's the one in charge.

Yet he feels completely out of control.

This isn't happening. This isn't fucking happening. He has spent months—months gently putting himself before you. Jealousy and possession are strange to him. They don’t come easy. And yet here they are, eating him from the inside out, chewing away at his resolve.

Anger and irritation are starting to seep in.

A new recruit with an obvious crush shouldn't make him this irate. There isn't any competition, but John can't help himself. All he sees is this wanker making eyes at you, speaking softly and with such tenderness that it's driving John up the fucking wall.

Which is insane. Stupid. You do not belong to him. The two of you are not dating—not anything—but somehow that doesn't matter.

His feet are moving before he even realizes it. The recruit turns in John's direction and instantly pales.

Good. Fucking good.

You turn too, brow furrowed.

"Captain?" asks the recruit, straightening his spine.

John shoves himself between, staring the recruit down, all venom. "You're wanted elsewhere."

"Y—yes. Sir."

The recruit salutes and takes off, the primal jealousy purring softly with contentment.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle is going to grind his teeth into dust if he doesn’t unclench his jaw.

What the fuck is this bloke doing over on this side of the complex anyway? He’s a goddamn new recruit. Freshly arrived and still green.

Do you even realize he’s flirting? Kyle can tell just be the way he stands far too close, or the subtle way he touches your arm. His smile is stupidly large. The man is completely struck by you. You appear completely oblivious, having a conversation with him like there’s nothing amiss.

Nope. Kyle is pissed. Furious. Which is fucking ridiculous. The two of you are not a couple, even though Kyle wishes otherwise.

“You look right scunnered.” Soap appears at Kyle’s shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“That,” he growls.

Soap frowns, following Kyle’s line of sight. Soap’s frown turns to a knowing smirk. He turns it on Kyle with a mischievous glint. “Want Ghost to scare the shit out of him?”

The rest of the team knows how Kyle feels about you even if they don’t comment on it.

“That would be great,” says Kyle flatly.

Soap lightly pats Kyle’s shoulder. Turning around, he cups his hands around his mouth. “Hey, Lt!”

John "Soap" MacTavish

"I could rig an explosive. Put it under his bunk. That’d be fucking brilliant,” murmurs Johnny.

"We're looking to scare him. Not to maim everyone in his immediate radius,” replies Kyle.

"What about a firework? Poppers? Oh! A stink bomb?"

"That’s fucking childish, Johnny,” mutters Simon.

Johnny isn't jealous. Really, he's not.

He's just...protective. That's what he tells himself anyway.

Kyle, Johnny, and Simon observe you from across the communal gym. A new recruit from the latest batch is hanging on the ropes of the boxing ring. His stance is casual, skin glistening with sweat as he gives you his best smile while he chats you up.

The lad is putting it on thick, and Johnny is having none of it.

You are not Johnny’s spouse. You are not dating. You are not his…anything.

But that hardly matters.

Because Johnny has stolen plenty of kisses from you. He’s put his hands on your body. He’s been far too close for the comfort of a coworker or friend. In that, there is a claim. Johnny can draw the line somewhere.

He is so close to making you his.

No one is getting in his way. Not even a charming new recruit.

Simon "Ghost" Riley (Female Reader)

"Don't do it, Simon. It's not worth it."

Johnny's words don't satiate the anger. Rage is boiling beneath Simon's skin. It is white hot—fierce. All of this emotion and yet Simon has no claim over you.

It still hurts. Still aches.

The two of you are not together—not dating. But it's Simon's name you scream with pleasure, and that counts for fucking something.

His fists clench, muscles coiled with wrought tension. Johnny places his hands on Simon's shoulders and shoves him back down in his seat. If Simon weren’t ready to flay his newest target alive, Johnny wouldn’t be so bold.

"Remove. Your. Hands," growls Simon, slowly.

Kyle grimaces, his gaze darting between Simon and Johnny. He looks ready to jump in if Johnny needs him.

"I'm doing this for you, Lt,” murmurs Johnny, even as his hands keep the pressure.

"She's mine."

"We know,” reply Johnny and Kyle in unison.

One of the new recruits is putting on his best performance, following you around like a lovesick puppy. Johnny is right. Simon can't go over there and knock the man to the ground, no matter how much he wants to.

"Take a deep breath, Lt."

"I'm trying."

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

@saoirse06 @unhinged-reader-36 @ravenpoe67 @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

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@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

[ridingtorohan]

The Tulpar crew's reactions to walking in on you and post-crash Curly

𓇻 content warning. absolutely nothing explicit. can be viewed as dub-con given curly's circumstance, but I promise he consented. anya's reaction mentions sexual assault (jimmy to anya, but mainly she suspects reader did it to curly) and jimmy's mentions abuse (jimmy to curly) and a bit of voyeurism.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

Masterlist

Daisuke handles it like a champ. In the way that means he very much doesn't.

Absolute mess, apologizing profusely as he backs away, shielding his eyes dramatically. Hits the sides of the door on his way out. Both sides. He pin-balled.

Recovers fast but can't look at you in the eyes for a long time without picturing you like that.

"So how does it work when he's, y'know?"

So curious that it's not even funny.

Tries to get Curly to tell him the facts but Curly just does his laugh rattle

Honestly, he doesn't treat either of you differently, but he grins SUPER wide each time you go in to check in on Curly

"Get it, Captain!!!!"

May or may not time you just to tease you about it (gets so red if you tease him back)

Processes then immediately walks out

"Is this what kids do these days?"

Knew about you and curly's relationship/situation so he isn't surprised.

But you'll get his fatherly look of disappointment.

"At least make sure you're not snapping every last bone of his, alright?"

Doesn't tell anybody else because he knew it was consensual from the sounds you both made (he definitely asked Curly afterward just to make sure)

If you take a lot of shift work watching curly, he'll intercept and roll his eyes, "Jesus, let the poor guy rest"

Freezes, processes, then storms right up, eyes wild and voice high. "What are you doing?!"

She all but separates you from curly as fast as she can, tears in her eyes.

Curly sure as hell never protected her from Jimmy but she wouldn't let you abuse one of her patients.

Might be able to be coaxed down.

Shift work with Curly is outright canceled for everyone. At least until Curly conveys that no, he very much wanted that, (head nods go a long way, people).

Anya is still suspicious and weary. It's months before she stops hovering by the door, but a part of her is relieved, too.

The absolute last person you want walking in.

Stands there like a creep, eyes assessing. Memorizing.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He asks layer with a wrinkled nose, as if you're the one with the problem.

Honestly becomes kind of bitchy about the whole ordeal

Watches you a lot more intently that it becomes uncomfortable

Definitely imagines how you looked on that cot with the former captain

Passive aggressive with you afterwards, but fortunately, because nobody is really alone anymore, he can't do anything to you about it. If he had been attracted to you before and the crash never happened, you'd be in hot water.

Curly, however, gets the short end of the stick. Have you heard the audio of what Jimmy does to Curly the second time when giving him pills? Yep, he beats him more routinely

After all, how is it fair that Curly has doomed them all but still gets the glory?

[merakiui]

ace or any twst guy you'd like to imagine who summons the halloween king in hopes of enlisting his help to woo you and maybe earn a date for halloween. >:) skully is just so eager to help. it's been so long since anyone has called on him and especially so close to halloween!!!! of course he'll do whatever he can to provide assistance. :D

the plan is that skully will possess the twst guy and use all of his charisma while in this body in hopes of charming you and hopefully by the time he's out and the real twst guy returns to his body your relationship will have improved significantly and romantically!! <3 it's foolproof, or so he thinks. and nothing will go wrong. you can trust skully!! he will ensure nothing will happen. :)

but once he's actually possessed the twst guy and has spent time with you, he realizes he doesn't want to give up this body just yet. for the halloween king has fallen in love and this is his first chance in many, many years to seize the romance he's always dreamed about.

[thef1diary]

dirtbag danny thoughts: there might’ve been a little dribble from chugging the beer and I can imagine him making a mess, your wetness covering his lips and beard, and that smug smirk on his face as he mutters something mean

I GASPED AS SOON AS I SAW THIS NONNIE 18+

Dirtbag Danny would absolutely revel in the “mess” especially if it’s yours—wearing it like a badge of honour 🤭

When he’s between your legs, his beard would be damp with your wetness, glistening as he drags slow, teasing stripes over your cunt. He wouldn’t even clean himself up as he brings you over the edge for the third time, he’d lean back and lick his lips, slick and shiny, while his eyes remain on you. Your legs are still spread, and he watches how your pussy clenches around nothing, still greedy for more. The smug, mean smirk would grow naturally, just at the thought of having you under him, for him to degrade as he wishes. He can’t help it, not when you whine and beg for him while looking at him with those pretty eyes.

“Look at you,” he’d mutter, voice dripping with mockery, his thumb pressing down hard on your swollen clit. “So fucking wet for me. What’s wrong, sweetheart? Can’t keep it together?” He’d pause just long enough to wipe his chin with the back of his hand, licking his fingers for good measure. “Nah, don’t worry, I like my girls messy. Makes it more fun when they fall apart.”

And then he’d go right back to ruining you.

[crimsoncandy04]

What if... Scaramouche cucking Kabukimono

(meanwhile in a parallel universe)

You never thought in a million years that it would be possible for someone to actually defeat The Traveler. But it finally happened.

And Scaramouche had finally completed his life's ambition and become the Everlasting Lord of Arcane Wisdom.

But it STILL wasn't good enough for him. Something inside of him still burned with an unquenchable thirst for vengeance. Yet he didn't understand why.

Had he not achieved everything he set out to do?

Why was he still so... unsatisfied?

And then he remembered you one night.

You who had fought so bravely until you had been dealt a near fetal blow that had caused you to become comatose and unaware of the deaths of your old friends. You who had been clever in your attacks and almost just as underhanded as him sometimes.

Scaramouche could respect it.

A little.

Your martial prowess was often overshadowed by your disgusting and burdensome sensitivity.

You didn't want to hurt people.

Not if you didn't have to anyway.

It was your weakness and eventual downfall. Because after hearing Scaramouche's own life story and sympathizing with him, you were hesitant in finishing him off like you should have.

And he had seized the opportunity.

Emotions were a scourge on the face of humanity. Making them irrational. Making them weak.

You were no exception it seemed.

At least he, in all his wisdom and glory could understand this and overcome it.

Even if it was hard sometimes.

Scaramouche continued to imagine you, scared, confused, mournful, angry, and utterly alone in your cell beneath the sanctuary. He wanted to laugh at your circumstance or at least belittle you in his mind, but that same burning and nagging feeling ended up preventing him from doing so.

What was wrong with him?

Did he perhaps... feel bad for you?

Why?

You and that pesky traveler had been nothing but a thorn in his side since the day you met.

So why, now that he had won. Had locked you away until you were healthy enough to be tried by law, did he continuously have dreams about your teary face? The deep sorrow that probably plagued your heart after learning that your friends were gone?

Why did Scaramouche... feel like he was experiencing some kind of deja vu whenever he pictured you all alone with no one to turn to?

It was that original sin of his wasn't it?

The very same feeling of empathy that had besmirched his very being since the day of his creation.

Why wouldn't it die?

It needed to.

But alas...the spirit of his former self lived on inside of Scaramouche's mind like a parasite.

And he hated how YOU triggered it.

It took a few weeks for Scaramouche to finally come up with a plan to solve both of his problems.

First was to extract the essence of his former consciousness and self via an abyssal reach that only a god could ever hope to accomplish. It had exhausted him in doing so.

But the results were better than ideal.

Secondly, use the knowledge of the world at his disposal as well as what he could remember about himself and his own inner workings to create another vessel for the extracted consciousness.

And lastly, order some attendants to retrieve you from your prison cell below and bring you to him somewhat sedated and pumped full of some new drug that had been created by the fatui for torture purposes.

Once Scaramouche laid eyes on the perfect physical replica/clone of Kabukimono as well as a half conscious and drooling you on the floor, he knew that he would leave this room with there being no more doubt in the world,

That Scaramouche was truly the most powerful being in existence.

***Time Skip***

You sit awkwardly as the machine beneath you brought you to orgasm for the 6th time in a row. The giant purple dildo thrusts in and out of your soaking wet pussy quickly, assaulting your g spot repeatedly whether you liked it or not.

All the while, the monster who had you injected with powerful aphrodisiacs and sedatives was just watching the sybian destroy your cunt with a sick delight in his eyes. You wanted to yell at him through your ball gag but instead you just continued to moan loudly as you felt yourself piss again. Even then the machine didn't stop.

Scaramouche laughed coldly as he grew bored of you and soon turned to face his former self who he had bound in a similar fashion to you just a few feet away. Kabukimono's arms were pulled tightly behind his back. Secured to his ankles, forcing his legs apart.

Scaramouche couldn't stand the pitiful and obvious longing in those eyes. Especially when he heard you scream or cry through your gag. Kabukimono's eyes would widen even more. Torn between wanting to help you, and also wanting to take you.

It was no mistake. Scaramouche knew this because even if he DID find you detestable at best, as far as human women went, you had quite a soft and sensual body that just BEGGED for someone to ravage it.

Scaramouche had considered setting it up many times in the past. Making it to where his subordinates distracted your annoying companions while he had his way with your pretty body secretly.

But he has fought those needless and lowly desires instead.

However seeing the lust in the eyes of Kabukimono, made him realize that perhaps, this attraction to you was something that he couldn't fight. Something that even his most inexperienced form was feeling whether he understood what it meant yet or not.

And if this was true, then Scaramouche would conquer these feelings too. He'd keep you as a fuck doll for himself and at the same time, show this annoying and pesky version of himself that HE was stronger.

And HE was in charge here.

Scaramouche walked over and after casting Kabukimono a withering look, he began to press his sandal against Kabukimono's shaft. Forcing his hardened cock to be uncomfortably crushed against the ground underneath Scaramouche's foot.

Kabukimono whimpered as tears began to leak from his eyes and his nipples hardened. He was aroused from the pain and Scaramouche couldn't help but feel nothing but disgust towards him for it.

"you want the girl huh?"

Kabukimono nodded quickly. His own gag stifled his voice as he groaned slightly at the sensation of Scaramouche putting more of his weight down on his dick.

"Too bad. You seriously think I would let YOU have her before ME? That I'd let you fuck her with this useless cock of yours that gets off from being crushed?"

Scaramouche chuckled wickedly. Seeing Kabukimono blush a little as he heard you cry out again. His eyes fixated on the dildo as it stretched you apart and kept you in such a lewd position with your juices coating the floor beneath you for all to see.

Scaramouche couldn't stand it.

He crouched down and grabbed hold of Kabukimono's cock. Roughly stroking it then to the pace of the toy penetrating you in front of him.

"you wish that was your cock fucking her right? Tearing her apart and making her cum?" Scaramouche taunted. Continuing to pull several soft moans from his former self as he continued to pump his own cock.

"Do you even know HOW to use this pathetic thing yet? I doubt it. That machine isn't even real and it's better than this thing between your legs."

Kabukimono's back arched a little as artificial semen suddenly squirted from his dick. Coating Scaramouche's hand. Scaramouche narrowed his eyes in disgust as he tried to shake the stuff off.

"pathetic. You actually ejaculated from that? Oh how pitiful I truly was." Scaramouche got to his feet and turned back to you. Your head had slumped back a little and tears leaked out from underneath your blindfold as another orgasm was ripped from your body. He watched you gasp and tremble as you remained helpless in your bondage. A sadistic gleam filling his indigo eyes as another idea suddenly came to him.

He knelt down again and reached out to tease your swollen clit a little as he spoke.

"get used to it doll. I could make it hurt worse. However, if you behave during the next game I have planned for you, I'll make you feel better than anyone else ever could ~" Scaramouche purred. His touch makes you squeal as you try to fight back another climax but fail miserably.

"so fragile. So many ways I could make you crumble and break. I wonder if...I could somehow make this part even more sensitive."

You feel him pinch your pleasure nub between your legs and you struggle to not pass out. What was this bastard planning next for you and his other self?

[ellevandersneed]

Kamala Harris spent a large chunk of the tail end of her campaign trying to appeal to the median republican voter and lost. "dems are a minority" in the sense that the voter difference in the 2024 election amounts to a difference of less than 3%. Trump still got less votes this time around than Biden achieved in 2020. The average voter is not ride or die for any particular candidate or, really, any particular party. The majority of voters are currently registered independent, half of which "lean" republican. This does not mean that they are ideologically, inherently aligned with Trump and crave his policy, or are staunchly anti-abortion and pro-Israel. People vote because there is a psychological expectation to choose A or B, and as Harris constantly told people she "wouldn't be much different from Biden," which, for a lot of people, meant that the economy would not change for the better. US Americans seem more interested in a lower cost of living than anything, and I imagine the allure of Trump, who again, promises "something different" gave them a potential "out" from rising costs. You talk to me about how anyone offering a "simple solution" is a fool or an extremist, but you are also vastly oversimplifying things (both the US election, US democracy as a whole, and Israel).

"But whatever the right or wrong of 1947 was it was 80 years ago." OK. Let's drop the past and look at the present. It makes sense to think that Israeli Jews have a right to live where they are born, sure. Simple, straightforward morality. Do the Palestinian people have that same right? Amnesty International posits that the state of Israel is committing the crime of apartheid against Palestinians living in Israel and in the occupied territories.

Here's another for you.

The Jerusalem-based nonprofit, B'Tselem, outlines how the Israeli government demolishes the houses of Palestinians suspected of committing crimes (or, what is much more common, suspected of being *related* to Palestinians suspected of committing crimes) as a form of "collective punishment," forcing those Palestinians to relocate. If the US government did this to its black and/or Hispanic citizens, how would you feel?

Human Rights Watch put out a report citing several people who have held high ranking positions in the Israel government, who admit to an apartheid state created by Israel and used against the Palestinian people.

The Israeli government segregates Palestinians based on race, blocks aid from going into Gaza, and bombs people indiscriminately.

The first link I share in this reply, from Amnesty International, has this to say on the de jure discrimination against Palestinians in Israel and the Occupied Palestinian Territories:

Israel denies Palestinian citizens their rights to equal nationality and status, while Palestinians in the OPT face severe restrictions on freedom of movement. Israel also restricts Palestinians’ rights to family unification in a profoundly discriminatory manner: for example, Palestinians from the OPT cannot gain residency or citizenship through marriage, which Jewish Israelis can.

So there is clear discrimination against one type of person, but not against another.

We can talk about the war crimes Israel committed during Operation Cast Lead during the 2006 "Gaza War," the war crimes committed by Israel during the invasion of Lebanon, or the war crimes committed by Israel during the Six Day War. Most moral army in the world, folks! Clearly nothing has happened since 1947; the Palestinians, who are all apparently to blame for anything Hamas does, though I doubt you'd think that all Israeli Jews are to blame for the extreme actions of it's government and "Defense" Force," (but hey "it's the only democracy in the middle east, and since majority rules in a democracy according to you, I guess the majority of Israeli Jews love committing genocide! Somehow I doubt this) just need to keep their heads down and believe in peace and order (not complaining while the Israeli government displaces, starves, and murders them.)

Change, or go fuck yourself.

was watching this video the other day and Ilan Pappe makes a pretty good point, where the reason why Israel doesn't have a major left wing (and if it did at one point, it definitely doesn't anymore) is because people can see through the logical fallacy of "progressive settler colonialist genocide" and I feel like the same thing is happening with the Democratic Party in the US, where you can't be the party of social equality and violent imperialism at the same time without becoming a walking contradiction, and this is probably why a lot of leftists get filtered out at the lower levels of the party while the leadership remains staunchly conservative in everything other than slogan

[atalana]

supergiant you can't keep toying with my heart like this re: aro mel

[therealcocoshady]

Hey! Can you please write marshall's reaction when doctor tells him that his wife is pregnant with TRIPLETS and all of them are BOYS?

Boy dad 🩵

A/N : I find it absolutely hilarious that you sent this request right after I mention I had a soft spot for writing Eminem as the ultimate girl dad 😅. You’re challenging me and I like that 👀. Also… I had SO MUCH FUN writing this request. I don’t think I have written anything this fast ! I hope you enjoy it ✨.

CW : Mention of infertility diagnosis - surprise pregnancy - triplet - mention of abortive measures - angst - fluff

I imagine that he’d react differently to all these news, this pregnancy definitely bringing him on some type of emotional rollercoaster.

He absolutely did not expect you to tell him you were pregnant. You’d been together for a while and, early on in the relationship, you’d told him that you had endometriosis, and that the rather advanced stage of the condition affected your fertility. He didn’t mind it one bit, though. He already had daughters and did not necessarily want any more kids. If you had mentioned that being a mom was important to you, he would have done everything in his power to make your dreams come true, whether it was by doing IVF or adopting. But you didn’t. You’d known about the condition for more than a decade and, though it hadn’t been easy at first, you were at peace with the idea of not raising kids. As long as you had the love of your life by your side, you knew you’d be happy. The two of you went on to get married and enjoy life together. For years, you enjoyed marital bliss and a childfree home, his daughters being all grown up and out of the house. Never in a million years did you expect to get pregnant. The absence of period didn’t exactly tip you off, since your cycle had always been very irregular. And you almost laughed in the face of your GP when she suggested you get some bloodwork done and do a pregnancy test. Sure, you’d booked a consultation because of fatigue and nausea, but there was no way in your mind that the symptoms could be pregnancy-related. After all, the doctors had evaluated your chances of conceiving as « slim to none ». The only reason you agreed to the pregnancy test was because the bloodwork prescription also included other things, so you figured your GP would actually find the cause, probably anemia, and prescribe you some supplements.

You nearly fell from your chair when she called you about the result, and you had her confirm several times that there was no confusion, or that it was not a prank. When the call ended, you burst in a fit of nervous laughter, still in disbelief. Your laugh echoed throughout the house, causing Marshall to come to your office. You realized you probably sounded manic and demented when you saw your husband’s concerned expression. « Are you… alright? » he asked with a raised eyebrow. You didn’t even think twice abut breaking the news to him. « The doctor called. She had my results », you said, struggling to form a complete sentence. He looked at you, nervosity creeping up on him. When it came to you, he seemed to have the ability to get paranoid over nothing. And if it had you sounding this insane, he figured bad news weren’t exactly out of the question, especially with how sick you had been in the past few weeks. He kneeled by your side, holding your hand in his. « So… Is there anything wrong? » he asked in a concerned tone. « I’m pregnant, » you cackled, sounding like a hyena. « Fifteen years ago, they said I was infertile. I did three years of therapy after that and now… pregnant », you hysterically guffawed. You had tears streaming on your cheeks and you struggled to catch your breathing, the nervous laughter taking over your body. So much so that you didn’t even register Marshall’s reaction, or lack thereof. But, minutes after you said the word, you slowly realized he’d remained silent. He was still in the same position, staring at you without so much as blinking. For a spare second, you thought he’d turned into a wax statue and you suddenly understood why some people had described his stare as « creepy ». As your mind became clearer and the silence settled, you started freaking out. « Marshall…? » you asked. He slowly started blinking, looking at you as if he were a deer in headlights. « P-pregnant? » he whispered. « You’re… pregnant? ». You gently squeezed your hand and nodded, the news dawning on you in a different way. « I am » you confirmed. « And, uh… eight weeks along, approximately ». He let out a sigh, visibly surprised. Then, he took both of your hands and kissed them profusely.

« But you’re alright? » he asked, and you nodded again. « Fuck, babe, you scared me. I wasn’t sure if you were dying, or demented, or both » he let out with a chuckle. « Nope… Just… Pregnant », you giggled, still in disbelief over the word. « That’s wonderful » he said emotionally, a smile appearing on your face. You looked at him, scanning his face, just to be sure. « You really think so? » you asked. « Because I know it wasn’t planned, and… ». He gently pressed his finger to your lips and shook his head. « It wasn’t. Fuck. It really wasn’t. But if you’re happy about it… Wait. Are you? » he asked carefully. You gave him a nod and a smile. « I am. I just… I can’t believe it ». He cupped your face and smiled at you tenderly. « If you are happy about it, so am I. That’s great news, Y/N. We made a baby » he said. You couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear, happy tears welling in your eyes. « I thought I’d never be a mom » you whispered, waves of emotions crashing over you as you remembered the first time you were told you couldn’t conceive. « Apparently, you thought wrong » he said, happiness radiating on his face. « And I know our baby already has the best mama » he added emotionally, bringing you into a tight, heartfelt embrace.

The following couple of weeks was emotional but happy. The two of you were ecstatic, determined to welcome this baby as the most beautiful blessing ever. You were still sick and exhausted, but the perspective of welcoming a bundle of joy that was the product of your love certainly made it easier to bear, as did your husband’s gentle care. He seemed determined to make your life easier and give you the most beautiful pregnancy experience, constantly dotting on you and spoiling you. You thought he’d given you the princess treatment in your early courting days but apparently, he was able to take it to another level. You didn’t need the numerous bouquets of flowers (in fact, the smell made you nauseous but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that), nor the many presents, but you enjoyed them nonetheless. Most of all, you loved seeing his excitement and devotion for the baby, whom both of you had yet to see.

Both of you felt a sense of childlike excitement, going for the ultrasound appointment. The closest thing you could compare it to was your niece’s first trip to Disneyland, preparing to meet her favorite princesses. You were a little nervous, praying that the baby was healthy. You’d asked Marshall about the gender, and whether he’d rather have a boy or a girl, but both of you were in agreement that, as long as the baby was healthy, it did not matter. « You know, I always thought being a girl dad was what made me so soft, but I know the baby will have me wrapped around their finger, even if they’re a boy » he said. You knew that it was too early to know the gender anyway, but you couldn’t help it. You kept on trying to imagine what that baby would look like. Marshall held your hand in his as the doctor put the probe on your stomach, squeezing tighter as both of you noticed the furrowing of her eyebrows, looking at the screen. « Alright », she said. « It looks like I made a little mistake while interpreting the hormone rate results » she said, turning to you. You turned to Marshall, a sense of nervosity taking over, unsure what the implications were. Did she mean that there was no baby ? Or that there was some health issues? You felt a lump form in your throat, unable to talk. « What mistake? » Marshall nearly barked, nerves taking over his usual politeness. « Well, you see, we usually use the hormone rates to give an estimate, of how far along the pregnancy is » she explained. « However, we tend to assume that it’s a singleton ». Both of you opened wide eyes and you held two fingers up. « Twins? » you asked in a throaty voice. « Triplets » she announced with a smile. « You’re not as far along as I thought. About six weeks. But all three babies are healthy ».

Part of you wanted to sigh in relief, over the news that the pregnancy was healthy but learning that you were carrying not one, not two, but three babies sent both you and Marshall into a spiral. As you drove home, pictures in hand, none of you knew how to feel, and you both remained rather quiet, exchanging banalities, visibly in shock and in need of some time to process. Not so long ago, you were sure you’d never have kids and now, you had to wrap your head around the fact that you were carrying three. In a way, it was a blessing, for sure. But you’d spent so many years envisioning your life without kids of your own that even the perspective of raising one was overwhelming. Multiplying it by three left you speechless and terrified. You weren’t sure how you were supposed to do this. And you weren’t sure how your husband felt either. That would make him a dad to… Six kids. You spent the night in your bed, trying to get some rest and emotional clarity. You took to Google, typing vague and stupid requests such as « pregnant with triplets and freaking out ». You were hoping for some support, some testimonies of parents who had shared your concerns but made it work. Instead, you were met with hundreds of resources about selective fetal reduction procedures. You read a couple of them but, soon enough, you ended up bawling. You couldn’t bring yourself to consider it. You weren’t really churchy or religious by any means, but part of you wanted to believe that life had given you triplets for a reason, and there was no way you would get rid of one of your babies. They were there, and you already loved them so much, even if the perspective of running after three toddlers was nerve-wracking.

When Marshall walked into your shared bedroom and found you crying, he immediately engulfed you into a hug. « Babe, what’s wrong? » he asked softly. « I’m so scared. Three babies is a lot » you hiccuped. « But I don’t want to kill any of them ». He stepped back and looked at you in shock. « Woah, woah, woah. Calm down. Who said we needed to kill babies? » he asked. « I learned that there’s this surgery, that you… I don’t know. Apparently, people do that when they’re carrying too many babies » you tentatively explained in a shaky voice. « I’m freaking out, Marshall. And I know you are, too ». He hummed and nodded, not denying it. « Of course I am » he said gently. « I mean, I wasn’t prepared for a new baby. And now, knowing there’s three of them… It’s a lot. But we can do it. It’ll just take… a lot of logistics. And diapers, I guess. ». His tone was reassuring, though you could tell he was definitely stressed out. « But how are we going to do? With work and all? And do you think we’ll get any sleep at all? » you asked nervously. He shrugged and pressed a kiss to your forehead. « I don’t know » he admitted. « But we’re lucky enough that we can afford anything we need. If you want to quit your job, you can. Or we can get nannies, or a chef, or whatever. Or I can quit my job. But we’ll manage, I know it ». You let out a sigh and let your head roll on his shoulder. « It’s going to change everything » you said. « Yeah, it is. But we’re doing this together. » he replied. « So… You don’t want to get rid of two of them? » you nervously asked. « No. If you think you can’t handle three kids and you want to have that surgery, I’ll support you. But other than that, it’s not up to me to decide. It’s your body and your pregnancy. And whether we have one, three, or seven babies, I will love and support all of you ».

In the months that followed, Marshall continued to dot on you, trying to provide comfort and reassurance, but you could feel each other’s nervousness. This wasn’t help by the reaction to your pregnancy announcement. Your friends and family, though they were happy for you, were not exactly tactful about the huge change the triplets would bring in their life, sometimes making little jokes about Marshall being « too old for this shit ». They also seemed concerned about the impact on his career, though he made it clear that family would remain his priority, as it had been in the past, and that he would put his career on hold if need be. He reiterated the sentiment when you confronted him about it. « You don’t have to do this, you know? I know your career is important to you, and that you had so many plans in mind. The last thing I want is for the pregnancy to ruin it for you » you told him one night. « I know I don’t have to » he assured you. « But you’re my wife. You became my family the day I put a ring on your finger. We vowed to support each other and you held your part of the deal all these years. You supported me in everything. I want to be here for you and our babies. And it wouldn’t be fair to ask you to sacrifice more than you have » he said. You nodded, swallowing dryly. You had felt his tension and nervousness in the past weeks. He remained loving and caring, but you knew he was trying to anticipate everything. «Look, I’ve already talked to Paul. We cleared the schedule for a while. Two months before your due date, and six months after that. Then, we’ll reevaluate. But it’s not just all the career, you know? We’re welcoming three babies, everything is going to change and, some of it is going to be hard, but it’s also going to be happy. I don’t want to miss any milestone. The first time they smile, the crawling, the first steps… I want to be there. So, really, you giving me three amazing, beautiful, healthy kids is not ruining anything ».

As the pregnancy progressed, however, the nervousness remained. The two of you certainly had a few cold sweats when you tried to prepare for the birth, overwhelmed by the amount of baby stuff. Cribs, diapers, bottles, car seats… Everything was to be multiplied by three. In true dad fashion, he decided to buy a new car to accommodate the needs of your growing family, but you could see his frustration. « I think I’ll just end up repurposing a tour bus » he sighed. « The amount of stuff we’ll be driving around is insane ! Have you seen the space we’ll need, just to fit the stroller and diaper bags?! ». The more you tried to prepare, the less joyful it became. The two of you were still happy, determined to welcome the babies and love them, but you were both overwhelmed, especially Marshall. Carrying the babies, feeling them growing inside of you was your main source of comfort and reassurance but, even though your husband was involved, he didn’t have that bond. For him, it still felt distant and logistical. Until the gender reveal.

Prior to learning you were having triplets, the two of you had toyed with the idea of waiting until the birth to find out the gender. But now that the planning was overwhelming, it felt like knowing the gender would make things easier. You also suspected that it might help Marshall feel a little closer to your little ones, since he would be able to at least picture it a little better. However, you opted out of turning it into a huge event. Carrying triplets was exhausting and you were in no mood to be social for a whole afternoon. Instead, you decided to enjoy the moment, just the two of you. The doctor had given you an envelope with the gender of the triplets, which you have to the owner of your favorite bakery. You ended up with a three-layered cake, the color of each layer representing the gender of one baby. « Are you ready? » you asked as you opened the box, revealing an elegant cake, coated in white frosting. « Ready » he said with a smile. « Still no preference for the gender? » you asked teasingly. « I’m hoping for at least one son, » he admitted. « I love being a girl dad, but six daughters and a wife would feel… A little lonely » he chuckled before crouching in front of you and placing a loving kiss on your belly. « But I love y’all anyway » he whispered. You took a deep breath and cut the cake, careful not to look before he could. « I can’t do it! » you said. « I can’t look! You have a look and tell me! ». He chuckled as you closed your eyes. You heard the cluttering of cutlery, followed by a « HOLY SHIT!!! ». You immediately opened your eyes and saw all blue layers inside of the piece of cake on the plate.

Marshall was covering in mouth, in absolute disbelief. « Boys! All boys! » he said. « Looks like your wish came true » you whispered. He took your hands and kissed you lovingly. « You’re going to be a boy mom » he stated with a smile, knowing full-well you’d always said the boy moms were the most annoying of the species. You giggled and pressed your forehead to his. « Hopefully, I don’t become too annoying » you chuckled. « Do whatever you want, I’m definitely going to be an annoying boy dad » he grinned. «After we eat that cake, I’m ordering Lions jerseys for them. And Jordans. Oh my God, I’m having sons ». You watched lovingly as he rambled about how great it would be to introduce them to football, how much fun they’d have bonding over sports. His joy, which had seemed quieted by the logistical concerns, was overwhelming and he was positively beaming. « I’m quitting » he finally said. « You’re what?! » you asked. « Babe, picture this: you give birth to these three, and you do it twice more. Maybe just twins for the last pregnancy. We only need 11 players for the Mathers football team! ». You rolled your eyes at him and patted his chest. « We’ll see how you feel about it after the first night home from the hospital » you said. He rolled his eyes back at you and placed a kiss on your lips. « I can’t wait to meet these guys ».

[georgescitadel]

I often get the question, “How do you write women?” or “How do you write a dwarf?” Some of that can be resolved by research or talking to people. I had a correspondence with a fan when I was writing the first and second books, long ago, who was a paraplegic, paralyzed from the waist down, and he gave me a lot of valuable insight about how to write Bran and what it would be like. That kind of information from other people, you can never duplicate.

- George R.R. Martin, Ideas At The House (2013)

There are things we all go through, but there are experiences that I haven't had, and when I'm writing about one of those, I try to talk to people who have had that experience. When I first had Bran crippled by his fall from the tower, I had one fan who was paraplegic, and he and I exchanged a number of emails about what it was like to be paraplegic because I could try to imagine that, but I don't actually know it. When I wrote the scene where Sansa has her first period, I talked to a number of women and asked, “What was it like to have your first period? Was it scary? Was it nothing? Was it painful? Tell me about it!” I got about 16 different stories that varied very widely. People who have actually been in combat, I talk to before the combat scenes, and that too varies widely. That's sort of interesting, and, of course, I've read a lot about that. There are some experiences that only women have had in our society, and when I tackle them, I try to consult with women.

- George R.R. Martin, NIFFF Masterclass (2014)

You do have to research the things that can be researched, and sometimes that involves books; sometimes it actually involves talking to people. Those are the trickiest things, if it's a human experience. I'll give you a couple of examples from Game of Thrones. When Bran gets thrown out the window and paralyzed. I'm not paralyzed, I don't have any close friends who are paralyzed, but I wanted to try to get that as accurate as I could, so I did a fair amount of reading about that. I also had a couple of fans who corresponded with me through email about the problems of someone who was paralyzed from the waist down and what it would be like. I also have a scene where Sansa, who is engaged to Joffrey but hasn't flowered yet—hasn't had her first period—so she can't be married by the traditions of Westeros, then has it and is eligible, by medieval standards as well as the standards of Westeros, to be bedded and wedded and bred. Of course, she reacts to that with considerable panic. But I also wanted to know what it is like, and that led to a number of embarrassing conversations with women I knew about: “When did you have your first period? What was it like? Was it painful? Tell me about it!” What I discovered was a wide variety of different stories. It's not always the same thing, so I had to try to make sense of that and do something that had authentic truth to it. Hopefully, I did, but human experience is variable. No matter how much you research, there will be somebody out there who had a different experience, and then they'll write you an annoyed email saying, “You got that all wrong. You don't know anything about that.” Well… okay. But I tried.

- George R.R. Martin, Author Event Series: Featuring Marlon James (2019)

[sukuna-ryo]

Oh wow, thank you so much for taking the time to respond to my post with… all of that. I’m honestly in awe of how you managed to turn a simple expression of excitement for a different type of Sukuna fanfiction into some kind of personal attack. I wasn’t even talking about specific writers or complaining about anyone’s content—I was literally just sharing an idea. But hey, props to you for finding something to get mad about. That’s a talent in itself.

Let’s be clear here: I wasn’t demanding anyone write this for me. I wasn’t critiquing anyone’s work. I wasn’t sitting here throwing shade at writers. I was just sharing what I personally wanted to see in fanfiction, which, last I checked, is what people do in fandom spaces. You know, sharing ideas, connecting over mutual interests—that sort of thing. I didn’t realize I needed to publish a whole novel on Google Docs to be allowed to post. My bad for thinking Tumblr was a space for that.

And honestly, the assumptions you made about me? Impressive. You’ve decided I don’t write, that I’m entitled, and that I’m part of some mythical group of people who do nothing but “complain.” None of which is true, but I can’t help but marvel at how far your imagination took you.

Also, the charm of calling people “corny” while doing exactly what you’re criticizing (complaining about someone’s post) is… unparalleled. I’m sure the irony is totally intentional. But don’t worry, I’ll be sure to take your wisdom to heart while continuing to use this app however I want, since that’s kind of the point.

But seriously, it’s okay. I get it. You probably had some stuff on your chest, and my post happened to be the outlet for it. Maybe you’re feeling unappreciated, or maybe my excitement rubbed you the wrong way. Whatever it is, I sincerely hope you’re able to work through it. It’s okay, honey. Mummy and daddy love you, even if they didn’t act like it during your childhood. I truly hope this little outburst gave you the attention you’re so clearly craving. I see your pain and I acknowledge your feelings. Therapy could really help—just saying. It seems like a healthier way to process those feelings than trolling random people online.

At the end of the day, though, I’m going to keep sharing my thoughts and enjoying fandom spaces for what they’re meant to be: a place for ideas and connection. And if that bothers you… well, I guess you can keep yelling into the void if it makes you feel better. Wishing you all the best, truly.

(p.s: adding a screenshot of the tags this bbg wrote just in case they decide to delete it)

I'm so sick of sukuna fanfics where the reader is a sweet innocent submissive girl like badgirl reader whennnn! I need a crazy sukuna and a batshit insane reader, someone who matches his freak, someone who's even better at it, someone who lowkey terrifies the king of curses himself! I need a reader who shows this pretty boy what being evil actually is! Give me that!!!!

[winchesterwild78]

Heaven

Master List

Characters: Dean x Reader (wife), Sam x Reader (in-laws)

Warnings: Mention of deaths, nothing too major, some fluffy stuff 

A/N: I got this idea from a post I saw @jackles010378 post. Dean has died and he meets you, his wife on the bridge. When Sammy comes, you give them their time. 

Very short story 

All work is my own, don’t take it. Reblogs and shares are welcome 

Minors DNI 18+ 

I sat on the porch of the bar with Bobby, drinking a beer. The two of us reminisced about how we met, and how he introduced me to Dean. 

It was love at first sight for me. Who wouldn’t fall for the one and only Dean Winchester. He was an amazing hunter, an incredible protector, and damn was he good looking. His jeans fit him perfectly, his shirt was just tight enough to show off his toned chest, and his biceps and bowed legs made me weak in the knees. 

Dean had so many walls up when I first met him. Who could honestly blame him? He had been through hell and back and shouldered so much from a young age. I never got the chance to meet John, and that was a good thing, because honestly, I definitely had some choice words for him. 

The day Dean finally let some of his walls down, was after a particularly hard hunt. I had gotten hurt and Dean was angry. At first I thought he was angry with me, but quickly I realized he was angry at himself for letting me get hurt. “Dean, it wasn’t your fault. It was mine. It’s not your responsibility to protect me all the time. Going left when I should have gone right was my choice, and my choice alone.” I remember touching his chest and feeling his heart beat wildly and his breath hitch. The look in his eyes had me holding my breath, and then he kissed me.

That was almost ten years ago. We had been through so much together, and after that night, we were inseparable. Dean and I had sex that night. No, it wasn’t making love or taking our time. It was primal and full of need and desire. It was raw, messy and loud. All the years of hunting together, the tension that had built and the angst from the hunt, just poured out in between those sheets that night. 

Dean took me in ways I’d never been taken, and I fell deeper in love with him. I was sure the morning light would bring regret from Dean, but I was wrong. The next morning when I woke up in his arms, he told me he didn’t want anyone else but me. We had been together ever since. 

About a year after that night Dean and I got married. We tried to have children, but it wasn’t in the cards for us. The biggest reason, I died in a car accident about a year ago. 

Dean tried to make a deal to bring me back, but no demon would deal with him. Jack let me go back and see him, I begged him to move on. Jack gave me 24 hours to be with Dean to say our goodbyes. We spent the whole time together, most of it in bed. We made love, over and over again, and Dean took pictures of the both of us together. He said he wanted to make sure he had pictures to hold on to if he couldn’t hold me. 

When it was time to say goodbye, Dean kissed me and told me he’d see me soon. I told him I didn’t want to see him too soon. “Dean, please move on. Live your life. Fall in love again, and have those babies we wanted. You deserve that, Dean. I want that for you. I love you.” Dean cupped my face, “Baby, I don’t want anyone else. You’re it for me. I love you, Y/N.” He kissed my lips one last time and then it was time for me to go. 

When I got to Heaven and Jack had taken over, I ran into Bobby. Seeing me was met with a mixture of excitement and sadness. He knew since I was there, that meant Dean was alone. Bobby pulled me into a big hug, “Hey, baby girl. I wasn’t expecting you here so soon.” “Yeah, I was in a car accident, I was hit by a truck running a red light. Imagine that, a hunter dying in a car accident and not on a hunt.” 

I made my rounds seeing loved ones and visiting different places in Heaven. Jack appeared on one of my walks, “Hey, Y/N. Go to the bridge. You have a visitor.” I looked at Jack oddly, but started to walk towards the bridge. As I approached I saw her…Baby. The beautiful, sleek, black car that held so many memories for Dean and me. Then I saw him, leaning against the side.

A soft gasp leaving my lips, “Dean.” He turned and looked at me with a smile on his face, “Hey sweetheart.” I ran to him and leaped in his arms. “Dean! I’ve missed you so much baby.” He looked exactly the same, strong jaw, beautiful green eyes, strong arms and so incredibly handsome.

He pulled me tight and close to him, “I’ve missed you too, sweetheart. So much.” “Dean, what happened? Why are you here so soon?” Dean sighed, “It was a hunt gone wrong, we saved the kids, but I misstepped and ended up impaled on a piece of rusty rebar. It went right through me.” 

A tear slipped out, “Oh Dean, I’m so sorry baby. As much as I love that you’re here I know Sammy misses you.” “Yeah, I’m sure he does, but he’s got Eileen and I’m betting he’s going to marry her. You would have loved her. She’s so good for him.”

I smiled softly, “Well maybe he will get out of the life and they live a normal life.” He smiled and nodded, thinking about his baby brother getting out of the life and living the life he deserved.

Dean and I spend the rest of the afternoon talking and catching up. We climbed in Baby and went for a drive. 

The windows rolled down, music up, Dean’s hand in mine and me  sitting next to him. This was definitely Heaven. 

Dean parked the car and had me slide closer to him. His lips on mine and hands in my hair. “God I missed you sweetheart. It’s been too long since I’ve felt your lips on mine. I’m so sorry we never had those babies we wanted. We would have made some beautiful kids.” Dean chuckled. 

I cupped his face, “Dean, it’s okay. I had you and that was enough. Besides, if we had kids and I died, you would have been left with them to raise alone. Now with you gone, who would have taken care of them? My life with you was incredible. With or without children. I had you, and you were enough.”  

“You were enough too, sweetheart. More than enough. I feel so incredibly lucky to have you as my wife. I love you.”

A few minutes later we slipped into the backseat to make up for lost time. It was incredible and felt even better than I remembered. A few hours later we were dressed again, kissed and slipped back into the front seat. 

Dean put the car in drive and we drove towards the bridge again. We climbed out of the car and he leaned against the door, pulling me into his arms. My back was to his chest and his arms wrapped around me tightly..

We talked about everything and then silence. Dean and I could always be with each other in comfortable silence. He just held me. An occasional kiss to my neck or head. 

As the sun was starting to set, Dean looked up and smiled. I looked over to where he was and saw Sam. “Hey Sammy.” Dean said with a slight chuckle. “Hey Dean, Y/N.” 

Dean’s arms let me go and I walked over to Sam and hugged him. Then Dean pulled him in for a hug. I smiled when I saw the brothers embrace. 

Sam began telling us about his life after Dean died. What felt like minutes to us was over 40 years on Earth. 

Sam told us he left the life, went back to Stanford and became an attorney. He and Eileen got married and had a little boy they named Dean. Dean smiled when he heard that. Then he told us he died as an old man surrounded by his family. 

Dean beamed with pride. Sam was Dean’s first son and everyone knew it. I kissed Dean and hugged Sam. “I’m gonna let you two catch up. I’ll meet you later at Harvells, Dean.” 

Dean pulled me close, “I love you, sweetheart.” “I love you too, Dean.” As I started to walk away I turned and looked back at my husband and his baby brother. They smiled and nodded at me. I knew they needed time together. 

I had plenty of time left to spend with Dean and in his arms. After all, this was Heaven. 

Tags are open, if you want to be added or removed, let me know.  

Tags: 

@nescaveckwriter @kr804573 

@k-slla @jackles010378 

@jawritter @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx 

@roseblue373 @cheynovak 

@jassackles  @chriszgirl92

@suckitands33 @arcannaa 

@n-o-p-e-never @ladysparkles78 

@smoothdogsgirl @hobby27 

@manicjk @stoneyggirl2 

@deans-spinster-witch @snowayumi 

@shadowqueen1318 @shanimallina87

@muhahaha303 @fitxgrld

@nancymcl @baby19sthings

@cheekygirl2309 @oceean

@kindollss @foxyjwls007

@lmg14 @cevansbaby-dove

@spxideyver @reignsboy19

@deans-baby-momma @deansimpalababy

@ladykitana90 @quietgirll75 

@superrey @kamisobsessed

@obliviousap @ninii-winchester

@mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @whimsyfinny

@bobbdylan @star-yawnznn

@reignsboy19 @monkey-d-hoshizora98

@depressionbarbie2023 @livingdeadblondequeen

@mandee7

[mapiforpresident]

Reaction

Patri x reader x Pina

Summary: You have an allergic reaction during lunch.

The cafeteria was filled with the usual laughter and conversation as you sat with your teammates during lunch. It was a normal day at training, the kind of comforting routine you had come to love. Patri was seated on your left, leaning slightly toward Ingrid as they animatedly discussed some tactical nuance from the morning session. Claudia was on your right, giggling at something Alexia had said, her voice light and carefree. Across from you, Mapi was in the middle of an exaggerated story about a recent prank she’d pulled on Bruna, her hands moving dramatically as she spoke.

You were engaged in Mapi’s story, laughing between bites of your lunch, when it began. At first, it was subtle—a faint itch in your throat that made you reach for your water. You didn’t think much of it, sipping casually as you nodded along to Mapi’s tale.

But then the itch turned into a tightness. Your chest began to feel heavy, your breaths shorter and harder to draw in. Panic bloomed in the back of your mind, but you tried to remain calm, setting your fork down with shaky fingers. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe you were imagining it.

Except you weren’t.

The realization hit you like a wave. This wasn’t nothing. This was an allergic reaction. Your hand moved instinctively to your chest, and your vision started to narrow as your breath came in wheezing gasps. You wanted to call out, to alert someone, but your voice failed you.

Across the table, Mapi’s keen eyes noticed the change in your expression—the way your face had paled, the way your hand trembled as you clutched at your chest. Her smile dropped instantly, replaced by a look of alarm.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, her voice cutting through the noise at the table. When you didn’t respond, her chair scraped loudly against the floor as she stood. “¡Joder! She can’t breathe!”

The world around you erupted into chaos.

Patri’s head snapped up at Mapi’s shout, her conversation with Ingrid forgotten in an instant. Her eyes locked onto you, wide with terror as she took in the sight of you gasping for air, your hand still weakly clutching your chest.

“Amor!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling as she leapt to her feet.

Claudia, on your other side, turned sharply, her laughter vanishing in an instant. “What’s happening? What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice panicked as she reached for you.

“She’s having a reaction!” Mapi barked, already crouching beside you. “Get the epipen! Now!”

Patri’s heart was pounding as she turned on her heel, bolting toward the locker room and her bag where she kept an epipen for you. Her mind raced, panic threatening to consume her as she ran. She had never seen you like this before, never seen you struggle to breathe, and the thought of you in pain—of you in danger—was unbearable.

Meanwhile, Claudia’s hands were shaking as she crouched in front of you, her voice trembling but urgent. “Breathe, amor. Look at me. Just try to breathe, okay? We’ve got you. You’re going to be okay.”

Alexia, who had been sitting beside Claudia, had already pulled out her phone, her expression grim but focused. “We need an ambulance,” she said firmly, rattling off the address to the training facility and explaining the severity of the situation.

Mapi stayed by your side, her hand on your shoulder, her usually mischievous face now etched with worry. “Hang on, okay? Patri’s coming back. Just hold on a little longer.”

By the time Patri returned, epipen in hand, her chest was heaving from the sprint. Her mind was a whirlwind of fear and determination as she dropped to her knees beside you, fumbling with the cap of the pen. Her hands shook, but she forced herself to focus, to steady her grip.

“Hold still, mi vida,” she whispered, her voice cracking as she jabbed the epipen into your thigh.

The medication worked quickly, the tightness in your chest beginning to ease just enough for you to draw in a shallow, ragged breath. Relief washed over the group like a wave, but the tension didn’t dissipate entirely.

Claudia was still crouched in front of you, tears streaming down her face as she reached out to brush your hair back. “Amor, just keep breathing. Nice and slow, okay? You’re doing so good.”

Patri didn’t move from your side, her hand gripping yours tightly as if letting go might mean losing you. “You’re okay,” she murmured, though the words sounded more like a plea than a statement. “You’re okay now. I’m here. We’re here.”

The sound of sirens grew louder, and moments later, the paramedics arrived. They moved quickly, asking questions and checking your vitals as they prepared to load you onto the stretcher. Your consciousness flickered in and out, the edges of the world blurring, but you felt the steady presence of your girlfriends by your side.

“We’re coming with her,” Patri insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument as she climbed into the back of the ambulance.

Claudia followed, her hand never leaving yours as she settled beside you. “Stay with us, amor,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Please, stay with us.”

~~~

When you woke, the first thing you felt was the warmth of their hands holding yours. Your eyelids fluttered open, and you blinked against the harsh hospital lights.

“Amor,” Patri breathed, her voice breaking as her eyes met yours. She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, her tears falling freely now. “You’re awake. Thank God.”

Claudia was less composed, leaning over you to wrap her arms around you as carefully as she could. “Don’t ever scare us like that again,” she sobbed, her face buried in your shoulder. “I thought we were going to lose you.”

Your throat was sore, your body weak, but you managed a small, reassuring smile. “I’m okay,” you croaked, your voice hoarse but steady enough to make their tears turn into soft, relieved laughter.

Patri wiped her eyes, her other hand brushing a stray hair from your face.

Claudia continued to grip on your hand tightly. “We’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe, amor. You scared us so much, but we’re here. We’ll always be here.”

The three of you sat there, hands intertwined, hearts still racing but you knew they would always take care of you.

~~~

Please send in requests for these three (or another throuple)