#duncan slowly making his way up my favourites

[myladybelle]

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍? | chapter nine

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: art donaldson x female!reader x patrick zweig 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you’ve always been content being second place to your best friend tashi duncan, waiting for the day you can quit tennis. your world is upended when you meet art and patrick, and you’re forced to embrace a life in the sport you’ve been too afraid to claim for yourself. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.0k 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): challengers content warnings, swearing, making out, mentions of sex, use of y/n 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: buckle up kids, it’s going to be an angsty ride!! also this is basically just dialogue so it’s a little different from the other chapters so far 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭

𝟑 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐒 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 – 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟕, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟕

In many ways, it felt like your whole life changed since you stopped being friends with Tashi. Over the last three months, you realised a significant part of your identity was missing. You hadn’t noticed it before you stopped being friends with Tashi, but she made up so much of your everyday life that it was impossible not to feel her absence.

Every memory of her lingered in your mind like echoes in an empty room. Tashi existed in the past tense. She was no longer a part of your life. Letting go was hard, and nothing could fill the void left behind. It was a painful adjustment because your routines and comforts were embossed with her imprint – tennis, school, friendships, your entire life. Every new routine you established was an aching reminder of her desertion. 

No matter how much Art supported you, it felt like you had to learn to navigate the world alone. You knew he was doing his best and loved him so much for constantly putting up with you, but Art-shaped love couldn’t fill the Tashi-shaped hole in your heart. It was irreplaceable, and since nothing could fill the void, it remained empty.

Staying in Art’s childhood bedroom over winter break had been fun for about a day until the both of you realised his room was a shrine to his friendship with Patrick, just as yours was a testament to your friendship with Tashi. Trophies, medals, pictures, and mementoes of their life together littered every corner of his room. This worsened Art’s insecurity that Patrick’s presence shadowed his relationship with you.

One day, when you came upstairs from crocheting with Art’s mom, you were surprised by the sudden emptiness of his walls and shelves. Any evidence of Patrick was scrubbed from his room and his life. 

The sudden end to Art and Patrick’s friendship – which you secretly called Patrickgate but would never say aloud to your boyfriend – was a lingering mystery you had yet to figure out. You weren’t sure if the end of their friendship was just an extension of Tashi’s breakup with Patrick or if something else happened. His visit to Stanford had been so much fun up until the accident, and you knew Art had looked forward to it for weeks, so you had no idea what happened to them.

“I think my parents like you more than me,” Art declared one evening, falling onto the sofa beside you. You were crocheting a blanket out of granny squares with his mom and bonding with his dad about your shared music taste. Everyone agreed that Art had terrible taste in music, so he rolled his eyes and watched his favourite people fondly. 

“Sweetheart, don’t say that,” his mother said kindly, counting her stitches. “We definitely like her more than you.” You laughed when Art whined, leaning on your shoulder and complaining. 

Truthfully, he was happy that you and his parents got along so well. A warm, glowing sensation spread through Art’s chest anytime he saw you interact with them. He smiled as his dad laughed heartily at one of your jokes and noticed a rare sparkle in his mother’s eyes as you exchanged stories about your childhood with her.

Art felt the tight knot of anxiety that had grown over the last quarter slowly begin to unravel. 

As you lay on his bed reading a novel his mom recommended, Art couldn’t help but wish your relationship was always like this. Sunlight streamed through his window, cast a gentle glow over his bedroom, and made you appear almost angelic. Curled up on his bed with your legs tucked beneath you, the corners of your lips curved into a content smile as you turned a page, eyes scanning the words.

Art stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, and watched you silently. Your relaxed posture contrasted with the tension that usually lined your frame. The strain of the last three months seemed to fade away, and the emotional turbulence you had both weathered was absent. 

Art let out a quiet sigh. This tranquillity, this slice of peace, reminded him why he was trying so hard to make your relationship work.

“I think I need to steal you away from my parents for a night,” he decided, making you look up from your book. 

“Really?”

Humming, Art pushed off the doorway and approached the bed, saying, “I want you all to myself. Competing with my parents for my girlfriend’s time isn’t exactly the low point of my life but it does defeat the purpose of staying together for winter break.”

Grinning, you dropped your book onto the bed and fell into his arms. “I’d love to do something tonight,” you promised. 

Sitting across from each other in the dimly lit restaurant, you and Art found yourselves surrounded by a heavy silence. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it no longer held the ease of your earlier days together. Last year, when your relationship was fresh, you could sit in companionable silence for hours, feeling entirely at ease. Art’s presence used to be comforting as he quietly observed you. Now, you stared down at your plate, your mind swirling with doubt and uncertainty.

Your relationship with Art wasn’t working out how you hoped, and you were sure he felt the same. But he never voiced his concerns, thoughts, or feelings. Talking to Art was like trying to scale an impenetrable fortress, every word bouncing back without revealing a hint of what lay inside.

When you returned to Art’s house, you showered and got ready to sleep, climbing into his bed and waiting for him.

Cross-legged on top of his blankets, you stared at the now empty walls of his childhood bedroom. A hollow ache sat deep within your chest. Every poster, every photo, and every memory of his friendship with Patrick had been stripped away, leaving nothing but bare, cold surfaces. The once vibrant room now mirrored the emptiness you had noticed in your boyfriend in recent months.

You knew how much his bond with Patrick had filled his life, just as your friendship with Tashi filled yours, and without them, everything seemed unbearably vacant and bleak. Both of you were so consumed by your broken friendship with Tashi that neither of you gave him the space to process his loss of Patrick.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when Art entered his room, hair still wet from his shower. He paused when he saw the melancholic look on your face.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” you said honestly. You never hid parts of yourself from Art. The problem was that he never did the same with you. “Things haven’t been okay for a while now. With either of us.”

Despite the shock coursing through him at you pointing out your unspoken issues, Art tried to keep his expression neutral. His features betrayed only the slightest flicker of surprise. “School’s been busy and our schedules have been crazy, but we’re okay,” he tried to reassure you, closing his door behind him. His parents wouldn’t be coming home until later in the evening but Art wanted the assurance of privacy. “It’ll get better.”

Sitting beside you on the bed with his feet planted on the floor, Art met your eyes and smiled at you. In the past, all it took was the curve of his lips to give you butterflies. Just one glance would make your heart flutter uncontrollably. Now, you could see the sadness in his eyes, the weight of unspoken worries pulling him down. The butterflies weren’t gone, but their wings felt heavier now. You still loved him, but you didn’t want your relationship to become one of unfulfilled potential, lost to the demands of your separate lives and identical scars. 

You couldn’t help but return his smile. “The thing is, I don’t know how things can get better if we don’t talk about them,” you confessed, trying not to upset him. “You know I tell you everything, right?” 

Almost imperceptibly, Art’s eyes narrowed, already taking a defensive stance. “Of course I do,” he said.

“Do you feel like you can share things with me?” you wondered, trying to keep your voice light. You had observed Art putting your care and emotions above everything in his life, and you wanted him to know it was unnecessary. “Because I’m here for you. I feel like you hold everything in and I don’t want you to feel alone.” 

Art crossed his arms as he thought about it. He wore a contemplative look, lips pursed and gaze lingering thoughtfully on the wall behind you. “I don’t feel alone.” Pausing, you gave Art a chance to divulge more about his feelings, but he only looked at you, waiting for you to speak.

You tried not to let your disappointment or frustration show. After all, if Art felt that he needed to tread carefully around you, then you were partially at fault. He had been in charge of helping you hold it together emotionally for the last few months, and there was no space for him to get that same support from you. You both lost your best friends, but you were the only one who received help from your partner.

“Does that mean you don’t miss Patrick?” you asked, tilting your head curiously. “You haven’t talked about him in, like, nine months.”

Art’s brows furrowed deeply, casting a shadow over his increasingly narrowed eyes. “Why are you bringing up Patrick all of a sudden?” he queried, his voice taking on a defensive edge that you had anticipated. 

“Well–” you motioned around his room to indicate how empty it suddenly was– “You haven’t said a word about what happened and I can tell it’s affecting you. I’m worried. I don’t know why you stopped being friends because you never talk to me. He’s your best friend, and one day you just decided that you were done with him. I know how that feels, and I want to understand what happened.”

“Patrick and me not being friends is not the same as what Tashi did to you,” Art pointed out. His jaw clenched, signalling his rising frustration. “I never insulted him or his relationship, we just stopped being friends after the accident. There’s nothing to talk about.”

“If there was nothing to talk about, then you wouldn’t be so affected by me bringing it up,” you argued. “I’ve noticed how your face changes every time someone mentions him, and I think that talking about it might help.” Art said nothing. “Besides, he’s not at fault for what happened to Tashi. While I understand why she wants to draw a boundary between them after going through the most traumatic experience of her life, you’re supposed to be his best friend. He lost both his girlfriend and his best friend in one fell swoop for something he isn’t even responsible for.”

“It was just time, Y/n,” Art replied vaguely. His breathing became deliberate and even, each measured inhale and exhale designed to soothe his growing anger.

“Was it time, or was it convenient timing?” you challenged him.

The tension between you mounted as you grappled with Art’s emotional guardedness, yearning for him to break his silence. Even now, when confronted with your direct questions, he let nothing slip past his mask. You wondered if you had done this to him, if you had made him believe that any display of emotion would somehow set you off.

You questioned, “Was it really a natural ending to your friendship, or did you stop being friends because Tashi’s accident gave you an excuse to do so?”

Art sighed heavily, a telltale sign that he was nearing the point where he couldn’t hold it all in. “Why do you care?” he asked slowly and through gritted teeth. “You haven’t talked to him in months either.”

“Not for a lack of trying,” you retorted.

He froze in shock as your words sank in. Standing abruptly, Art took two steps from the bed and turned to face you. “You’ve been trying to talk to Patrick?” His voice wavered, rising a pitch higher than usual. A tremor of shock coloured his words, “Since when? How often?”

You uncrossed your legs and swung them over the side of the bed. “Twice a month since the accident,” you revealed. 

Clenching his fists at his sides, Art wondered, “Does he ever write back?” 

��Once. All he said was that he missed me and he wished us a happy anniversary.”

Art inhaled sharply, the sting of betrayal spreading through him. The realisation hit hard. He had assumed Patrick was out of his life and would no longer influence his relationship with you, and he was naive to have thought so.

“Fuck,” Art grumbled. “Why would you do that?”

“Because he’s my friend, and without you and Tashi I might be his only friend,” you reminded your boyfriend. “He has nobody on tour who he can rely on, he would never reach out to his parents, and he doesn’t deserve to be punished for Tashi’s accident.” You stood, searching Art’s standoffish blue eyes as you approached him, wondering when he would admit his real feelings. “Doesn’t that hurt you? Patrick has nobody.”

“How do you think Tashi feels about you talking to her ex after the accident?” Art questioned, throwing a hand out as if motioning to her. 

Your stomach twisted uncomfortably at the mention of your former best friend. “I don’t know, I haven’t exactly had the chance to ask her, Art,” you said sarcastically. “Why should I worry about what she would think? After everything she said to me, everything she said about our relationship and our inevitable fate?” Feeling cornered, you stepped to the window and looked at the empty street. “If you’re so curious about what Tashi thinks, you should just ask her. After all, the two of you are still friends, right?”

Art groaned, irritated that you brought up a past argument you had. “I already told you we aren’t friends! Sometimes we run into each other and we talk.”

Turning your head, you nodded. “Fine. But that doesn’t change the fact that you think talking to Tashi is okay, but me talking to Patrick is some sort of a crime.”

“Because Tashi isn’t in love with me, Y/N,” Art argued, raising his voice with flushed cheeks. “Don’t you see that Patrick’s just waiting around until we break up so he can swoop in and have you for himself?” 

“Where did you get that from?” The conversation you had started was escalating to a full-on fight. You felt a surge of heat spreading from your chest to your head, your racing heartbeat emphasising your growing anger and exasperation. “I know he flirts with me, I know he messes with you, but you like it! It makes you smile, and laugh, and you play into it because that’s just how Patrick is!”

“I know that!”

You began listing things off on your fingers, “He’s never told me he has feelings for me, he never tells me that we should break up, he doesn’t plant any ideas about you being a bad boyfriend in my head – or fears of infidelity, for that matter,” you added pointedly, reminding Art of the way he tried to make Patrick and Tashi insecure about their casual relationship. “He’s never done anything to indicate he’s trying to get together with me! He won’t even respond to my emails!”

“Good!” Art shouted, his face turning a deeper shade of red with anger as he approached you. “I don’t want you talking to him!”

“Why?!” You shouted back, losing your temper. Months of built-up frustration and disappointment were finally boiling over. “The second you stopped being friends he stopped answering my emails, does that sound like someone who’s trying to steal your girlfriend?” 

“You don’t know him like I do!” Art stared at you, arms falling limply at his sides. His chest heaved as he struggled to catch his breath, each inhale like a gasp. Your shoulders rose and fell rapidly, and the adrenaline coursing through you made it hard to slow your racing heart. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered.

“What?”

“You think you know Patrick because you exchanged emails? If you really think he didn’t do all of that because he’s in love with you then he’s totally played you. I know him. He’s relentless, and he’s never going to stop, Y/N. Haven’t you seen him play? He’s the master of the long game, the master of making a comeback, and the master of trick shots.”

You let out a deep, exasperated groan, your eyes rolling skyward in a dramatic display of frustration. “Why is it that we can’t have a single argument without it coming back to tennis? The person you are is not the same as the type of player you are on the court,” you pointed out. “You’re romantic and imaginative and nothing like the way you get when you play tennis. Why are all of Patrick’s qualities diminished to the way he plays a game?”

“Because everything’s a game to him,” Art insisted. “He goes through life like it’s a game and he wants to lose as little as possible.”

“But–”

“–And you,” Art interrupted. “You go through life like it’s a game too!”

“When have I ever treated any aspect of our lives like a game?” you exclaimed angrily.

“Weren’t you playing a game when you lied to Tashi about throwing every match you’ve played against each other for the last five years?” Art challenged you. 

The coldness in his eyes and how he spoke to you was so unlike him. The harshness of his voice sent a chill down your spine, making you feel like a stranger in your own relationship. It was as if the person standing before you was someone else entirely, leaving you reeling with confusion and hurt.

Head spinning, you stammered, “How do you even know about that?”

“Tashi told me. She was really upset about it, too. She was crying and I could barely hear a word she was saying because–”

“–You just said the two of you weren’t friends and that you didn’t speak to her? When did you have the time to have this heart-to-heart?”

Swallowing harshly, Art confessed, “The night of your fight.”

“Fucking hell, Art.” Incredulous, you burst into laughter, shaking your head in disbelief. “You went and talked to the woman who broke my heart the night it happened? What, you just went to her dorm to make sure I wasn’t lying to you about it?” you asked sarcastically, your eyes widening for comedic effect. “Since you seem to think I’m lying about everything, including the fact that I’ve been letting her win.”

Art scoffed. “Come on,” he replied in a harsh voice. “Do you really expect me to believe that you let her win every single game? Why the hell would you do that?”

“Because she wanted it and I didn’t,” you emphasised each word, enunciating as you glared at your boyfriend with tears in your eyes. “From the moment I met her I knew she wanted to be the best. I considered ignoring that and simply winning against her – God knows it would have made my mother happier – but I chose not to.” You wiped the tears from your cheeks harshly. “I let my mother berate me and refuse to let me have dessert and affection and whatever else normal teenagers get from their moms because I wanted my best friend to win. I wanted her to achieve her dream. I didn’t do it to have you, the person who is supposed to trust and support me most in the world, tell me that I lied about it,” you concluded, feeling utterly defeated that Art didn’t think you could beat Tashi. “What about all those times I beat her in training when the scores didn’t matter? Or the fact that I was ranked higher than her last year, even before her injury?”

“You had a great year last year,” Art allowed, averting his eyes when he saw how devastated you were. “But Tashi’s always been tougher than you.”

“Is that what she told you when you went to visit her?” you wondered. Art remained silent, and you inhaled sharply, hurt that he would believe Tashi over you. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this… Objectively, I’ve always been the better player.” Art nodded slowly. It was true; in terms of skill and precision, nobody had you beat, not even Tashi. “So if I’m stronger, faster, and more precise than Tashi, then there is no reason that she should have been beating me all these years. Except for the truth: I was letting her win.”

Art shifted uneasily, his gaze fixed on the floor, hesitating to disclose an opinion he feared might hurt your feelings further. “Everyone knows that tennis is more of a mental game than a physical game,” he began cautiously, his voice tinged with apprehension. “You have a lot of anxiety, and–”

You held up your hand, silencing him as you backed away from Art. “You know what, I’m done. I don’t know what’s worse. The fact that my own boyfriend doesn’t believe me, or the fact that you don’t believe in me.”

“Of course I believe in you,” Art disagreed.

“But not more than you believe in Tashi, right?” you retorted angrily. “Is that what this is really about? Do you want her? Were you disappointed Patrick won the match and got her number? Is that why you kept picking fights when they were together?”

Frowning, Art said, “Stop it.” 

“Is this your grand scheme? Date the best friend and then cosy up to the one you really want when the timing’s convenient for you?” 

“Well, it seems to be working for Patrick,” Art replied, just as venomous as you.

Sighing, you rubbed your forehead. “I don’t want to fight about Tashi and Patrick, I just want to understand what’s going on with you! You never tell me anything.”

“Because I feel like you’re on the verge of falling apart every time I see you!” Art exclaimed, voice edged with frustration. “The last thing I want to do is push you over the edge. We have so much going on and I feel like every time we do something together it ends with both of us being upset, and I hate it. Everything is about tennis, or Tashi, or school, or Patrick, and nothing is about us anymore!”

“I know nothing is about us anymore,” you agreed, your tone a mixture of sadness and defensiveness. “Why do you think I want you to open up? I know I haven’t been my usual sugar-coated self for the last few months, but you holding everything in doesn’t help us. I need more from you, I need you to not treat me like I’m made of glass.”

“Why am I not enough for you?” Art replied, stunning you.

Your chests heaved in unison, panting from the intensity of your argument. Your eyes locked in a charged silence. Art’s hands trembled slightly at his sides, adrenaline still coursing through him, making his heart pound against his ribcage as he met your gaze. You looked away, blinking back tears.

“You are enough for me,” you said quietly. “I don’t know how many more times I can tell you. I love you, of course, you’re enough.”

“Not like that,” he corrected you. Art sighed, his anger dissipating as he watched your growing sadness. “What did Tashi say about our relationship that’s so bad? She said we would get married and have kids and I would have a professional tennis career. You act like that’s the worst thing she could have said to you.” 

Your eyes widened in surprise as Art mentioned your argument with Tashi, your breath catching in your throat. Regardless of how impactful the end of your friendship with Tashi was, you didn’t like to speak about it. Even after all these months, Art only new bits and pieces of your argument. He knew Tashi said something about you having a family with him, and he knew it had upset you, but he didn’t understand the context. The sharp edge of your anger softened, replaced by a pang of guilt as you understood how deeply this detail had affected your boyfriend. 

Tentatively, you reached out and took one of Art’s hands. He let you, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. In a gentle voice, you told him, “I had no idea you thought that. What she said that day has nothing to do with you, trust me. She said it to hurt me because she knows that I’m terrified of turning out like my mother.”

When Art’s eyes opened, they reflected confusion. “She thinks marrying me will make you turn out like your mother?”

“Well, no, she thinks I’ll turn out like my mom if I don’t pursue a tennis career, regardless of who I marry,” you corrected him. “I wouldn’t have a life of my own. There would be no meaning, no dreams, no goals of my own, just me. And I would be vapid and destructive if I ever had kids, just like my mother was with me. It has nothing to do with you, she said those things to hurt me, to scare me.”

“A life with me scares you?”

“No, a life without purpose scares me. Now, more than ever, I feel like I have no purpose.” Your voice wavered when you spoke, barely above a whisper, as if afraid of being heard. “I thought Tashi was the person I was going to live life with, and now I have to rearrange my identity in a way that makes sense without her. She said those things because she knows my biggest fear is to hurt any potential partner or children the way my mom hurt me and my dad. I need more than that for myself.”

“You need more than me,” Art repeated, running his free hand through his hair and sighing. “That’s what I’m saying, I’m not enough for you. It can’t just be me. It has to be me and tennis, or me and law school. But not just me, or our relationship.”

“Is that wrong?” you wondered.

“I just mean– I would drop tennis for you in a heartbeat, Y/N. I would follow you to law school and go anywhere you need me to go with you because I love you. You’re it for me, you’re all I need. But you don’t feel that way about me.”

As your fingers slipped from Art’s grasp, the cold, empty space between your hands mirrored the silent, inevitable end of your relationship.

“I would never ask you to do any of those things. I would never ask you to drop tennis or tell you to do anything you don’t want to do. You have to figure that out for yourself, just like I do.” You could feel yourself getting emotional and sensed the familiar sting of oncoming tears. “You already know what you want. You’re going to go pro, and I will be there to support you in whatever way you want me to–” Art grinned. “But you need to let me figure out what’s right for me, too.” Rather than slipping from his face, Art’s smile froze there, unmoving as his eyes grew colder. “I love you, Art, but I can’t just be your girlfriend. I need to be my own person. I haven’t been my own person since– well, I don’t think I’ve ever really been my own person. I was my mother’s puppet and, apparently, Tashi’s lackey, and now I don’t know who the fuck I am.”

“I know who you are,” Art interjected. His blue-eyed gaze pleaded with you to agree, imploring you to set aside your differences and make peace.

You shook your head. “No, you don’t.”

“I love you, how can I love you and not know who you are?”

“Because the version of me you fell in love with isn’t the same without her best friend,” you explained. Wrapping your arms around yourself as if they would hold you together, your lips curved into a bittersweet smile. “I know that sounds stupid, but I’m different now.”

“I’ll wait,” Art assured you. “You can be her again, I’ll wait.”

You turned to face him, eyes red and swollen from the tears you had been fighting back. “I can’t ask you to do that. You can’t keep feeling like you have to walk on eggshells around me. I don’t know what I want anymore; the major building blocks of our lives are gone, probably for good,” you added, referencing your former friendships with Tashi and Patrick. “And all we do is fight about them.”

“Then we’ll stop fighting.”

“It’s not that easy, Art. Be honest with yourself. Have you been happy?” you wondered. “Truly happy? Tiptoeing around in case you hurt my feelings or say something that will send me spiralling?” Art opened his mouth to respond but stopped, the words caught in his throat. He looked away, knowing the truth was written all over his face. Your eyes filled with tears, glistening as they clung to your lower lashes, your breaths becoming shallow and rapid. “I know you, and I know you haven’t been happy.”

Voice cracking with emotion, Art said, “I just don’t want you to be sad anymore.” He clenched his jaw tightly to suppress the tears welling in his eyes.

“I know. I love you so much for everything you’ve done, but every time you try to heal my wounds from losing Tashi, it hurts our relationship. It’s like we’re being torn open. So please, even though it’s hard and even though you don’t want to, please tell me how you feel.” 

Art swallowed hard. Barely above a whisper, he confessed, “No, I haven’t been happy. We’ve been growing apart since the quarter started, and our shifted priorities have been driving us apart for months.”

“I agree.” You nodded, your expression calm even as a few tears rolled down your face. Soft and controlled, you said, “It’s not working. Right?”

“Right,” Art echoed, his lower lip quivering from holding back sobs. “I feel the gap widening every day and I hate it. It shouldn’t matter that I’m getting ready to go pro, and it shouldn’t matter that you’re still trying to figure out what you want.”

“But it does.”

“But it does,” he parroted.

You sighed heavily, shoulders slumping as you closed your eyes briefly. “I don’t know about you but I’m exhausted,” you declared, feeling drained by the weight of your argument.

Chuckling in disbelief, Art agreed, “I’m so tired.” When he met your eyes again, the fight had visibly drained out of him. “But I love you,” he whispered, his voice cracking.

With a wistful smile, you looked at him, your eyes revealing the quiet pain of loving someone you couldn’t fully have. “I love you too,” you replied gently, stepping closer to him. Tears escaped your eyes as you cupped Art’s face and carefully wiped his wet cheeks. “But if I’m not making you happy, then it’s not working.”

Art nodded. “And you need to figure out your own path and find what makes you happy, too,” he added.

You stood silently, the reality of your decision to break up sinking in. In the dimly lit room, you embraced for the last time, your bodies clinging as if reluctant to let go. Art’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close, while you buried her face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent you knew you would miss. Time seemed to slow as you stood intertwined, trying to convey how much love you still had for each other.

The moment you parted, your lips gravitated to his. You kissed him. Art nudged his nose against yours, lips, hips, and chest hard against yours. He gripped your waist, tugging you closer as your hands tangled into his hair. You could barely think about your breakup. Too busy kissing Art harder and deeper as you begged each other to say goodbye, to be together and love each other despite everything that happened. The passion and urgency of this moment filled your veins; every heartbeat was a drumbeat, echoing in your ears as you stole this moment with him.

Art Donaldson wasn’t your boyfriend anymore. The thought was almost unimaginable.

Nothing else mattered. Not the pain of mourning the loss of Art’s love or the hollow emptiness of losing another person who had once filled your days with laughter and happiness, the boy who had been the warmth in your coldest, loneliest moments. For now, the breakup wasn’t real yet. You existed outside of reality, broken up but not yet having separated your life together. You were still his, and he was still yours.

But that wouldn’t be the case for much longer.

Art’s strong body pressed against you, firm hands trailing up your waist and raising the hem of your t-shirt as he went. “I still care about you, despite everything,” he declared, his voice filled with longing and desperation. “I’m sorry. I do believe you, and I believe in you.”

You nodded, resting your forehead against his. “I know. I’m sorry too.”

Pressing kisses to his neck, you paused to pull Art’s t-shirt over his head. He exhaled shakily, hooded gaze intoxicated as he drank in the sight of you running your hands down the planes of his chest and tracing the contours of the muscles in his abdomen. His eyes worshipped you like a sacred idol, filled with awe and adoration. Art reached for your face, a thick air of anticipation growing between you as his lips ghosted yours. His lips left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your neck and across your collarbones, almost mirroring the movement of your hands on his body. You shivered. Each feather-light touch of his mouth ignited a spark in you. 

When you reconnected your lips, Art’s arms snaked around your waist and pulled you flush against him. You sighed happily against his mouth, and the sound seemed to make Art realise what was happening. As if an enchantment had lifted, he broke the kiss, staggering back and covering his mouth.

“Fuck,” Art swore. 

He placed both hands on his burning cheeks. Art’s chest was just as flushed as his face, and his damp hair was a mess of unruly curls. Catching your breath, you looked at him, waiting to see what he would do next. Your head spun from the kiss you shared, and you were sure your lips looked just as red and raw as Art’s. Whenever you kissed him – or even just sat beside him – Art needed to be touching as much of you as possible. Your shoulders, hands, arms, thighs, and waist were rarely free around him. His hands always roamed freely, wanting more, more, more.

Art’s distance and the absence of his touch were a stark reminder of your breakup. 

Taking a deep breath, Art met your eyes, and the intensity of his gaze made your knees weak. No matter how desperate he felt, he was being cautious with you. After all, you had just broken up, and he wasn’t sure if break-up sex was the best idea. 

“I can’t– I need to go,” Art blurted, lowering his hands. His eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape from you, the only person he couldn’t stay away from. “I have to go before I– Otherwise, I’m going to–”

“Stay,” you pleaded. Your pulse thrummed beneath your skin like a racing river, each look from Art igniting sparks of nervous excitement.

He exchanged a meaningful look with you. “Is that a good idea?”

“I want to say goodbye,” you confessed, your voice wavering. “I want to feel what it’s like to be loved by you one last time.”

Art’s lips immediately found yours, kissing you as if his life depended on it. “I do love you,” he promised. “You’re still mine for tonight.”

[skarloeyspa]

Was re-re-re-re-watching Duncan the Humbug like an idiot and I'm just having some bumbling thoughts (dunno if anyone has done this before so ignore me if it's been done)

To sum up Duncan the Humbug, Duncan is being himself around Christmas season, grumpy and complaining about any and everything. The other engines on the Skarloey get annoyed and Rusty talks to Mr. Percival about it, who says that unless Duncan can be cheerful (not just keep his complaints to himself, he needs to be happy) for a whole day, then he can get the new Christmas coat of paint. Duncan, wanting the coat of paint (as all engines do), has a go with the challenge. Rather than being negative and shitting on everything around him he puts up an extremely forced cheerful front around the other engines to say "see? I CAN do it!" But like I said, forced, and it's very obvious to the other engines (he sounded hella sarcastic when he was talking to Skarloey LMAO). He almost broke at the frozen crossing gates but held back when Rusty pulled in. Luke being stuck on the hill was what made Duncan finally snap BUT he regrets it quickly when he realized Luke was hurt by an outburst. Yada yada yada he uses his sand he helps Luke and Rusty sees and tells Mr. Percival and Duncan ends up with new paint.

I watched this because I wanted Skarloey railway content (like a madman), but the more I rewatched it the more it just. It started festering in my brain. Compare it to the other Duncan episode in CGI Thomas, Duncan and the Grumpy Passenger, and something feels a bit...off? Not in a negative way, but it feels different.

There's a clear message in Grumpy Passenger. If you focus too much on something that you can't control, it will only lead to even worse things, your best bet is to ignore it and do what you can. Then looking at Humbug, on the surface level it's "if you're so negative all the time, someone will eventually get hurt", but that's not really it, is it?

Duncan, good ol' Duncan. Ever the complainer, ever the pessimist, he makes no effort to hide his annoyance with having to work during the snowy season, in fact he very much makes it everyone's business. Nobody is surprised that Duncan is like this, except everyone seems surprised. "Oh but it's Christmas, can't you cheer up for once, Duncan?" Rusty, for better or for worse, speaks with Mr. Percival for an incentive to get Duncan to be less negative, if only just once!

And it works, sort of. Duncan is acting more cheerful because he wants that coat of paint, once he gets that paint, he'll go right back to being a complainer. I'm no humanities student (in fact I'm in STEM so this is very much not my territory), but I'd like to assume that because of this very materialistic reward, Duncan's efforts at being cheerful are... disingenuous, probably because they are disingenuous. He just wanted some paint! All this work, and now he has to fake being happy and wholesome? Ugh!

A whole day of having to fake an optimistic personality would probably have worn him down, so in came the Luke encounter and Duncan snaps. For buffer's sake, Luke, what's the hold-up? Just grit your wheels up with a little bit of sand! Luke, with not a bit of sand left, but also not a bit of aggression in him, is put down by Duncan's outburst. Realizing his mistake, but incapable of apologizing, Duncan instead uses some of his own sand to push Luke up the rest of the hill.

Duncan realized that oh, I snapped, no paint for me now :(. But instead of staying in his shed the next day and grumbling about how he failed Mr. Percival's challenge, he goes to the steam works to apologize. And there, with Luke and Rusty, Mr. Percival instead praises Duncan for helping out Luke (not sure if it was done so out of necessity or guilt, but I'll think about that some other day). Duncan is obviously grateful for the surprise and feels motivated to look at things more on the bright side.

They could have ended the episode there, or they could have just added some crap about Duncan getting the long-awaited coat of paint if they wanted to hit the full run time. But in the end they clearly state that Duncan being grumpy is just Duncan being Duncan, and that doesn't make him any less useful.

Where was I going with this? I'm not sure, like I said these are just chunks of brain rot in a burnt out mind. But there's just something about them not ending with "Duncan will finally change for the better" and instead "Duncan's just Duncan, he's a lil grumpy but we still love him despite it." Some people are just more predisposed to being negative for whatever reason, and I doubt I'm the only one who grew up with the subliminal message of "be happy or be left behind." Maybe it's because of this that Duncan the Humbug really scratched my brain in the right way. The resolution of this episode was by no means one-sided despite how much it only focused on showing Duncan's growth. Obviously, being negative all the time won't make you happy, but forcing yourself to be happy isn't exactly a good or even healthy thing either.

[celestialrequiem]

Days of Candy Chapter 2

Warnings: CreepyDark!Duncan Shepherd, sexual harassment, dubcon/non? (just to be safe) touching, dirty talk, possessive Duncan, abuse of power, manipulative Duncan, male masturbation, forced kiss, cockwarming, mention of rape and abuse (but none in the chapter), housewife kink, implied age gap, corruption kink, innocence kink, implied homophobia, mention of anxiety, depression and mental disorders, misogyny kink, corruption kink, sexism, implied age gap, Duncan‘s dirty thoughts, sir kink, praise kink.

Summary: In the small town of Willowdale, Y/N finds her dull life as a waitress at a mediocre diner get a little more interesting when the mysterious and daunting Sheriff takes an interest in her.

Pairing: Duncan Shepherd x Naive/shy reader

This is the first thing I ever written and posted so sorry if this is bad, please give me any constructive feedback/criticism to improve! I am new to this please don’t hate it too much lmao.

Author’s note : This series will have dubious consent and sexual harassment. It is a dark story about a Corrupt Sheriff’s who manipulates people so if you are uncomfortable with that please don’t read! This story deals hugely with sexism as its based in the late 50s/60s.

Thanks to @bloodcoatedeclipse for reading through some parts of it and giving me feedback lmaoo.

I didn’t use a lot of 50s/60s slang just two besides swell and gal

Flip your lid - go crazy

Nifty/groovy - cool or cool vibes

Word count: 5.6k

“what a perfect view doll, bend down, y’ur ass stickin out, all for me all in this lonely night”, a familiar voice said seductively

You quickly get up, feeling flustered, adjusting the hem of your skirt as you hold the mop close to your body

“Sh-sh-sheriff what are you doing here?”, Feeling nauseous because of his presence, alone, at night…after that previous incident.

“What does it look like doll? I am here to pick you up.”, Duncan says with confidence as if the question you are asking him is the stupidest he has heard

You immediately, look up to him. He was wearing a brown greaser jacket, you felt it is similar to jacket Xavier might have had…this made your heart sink, what didn’t help is when you realized how attractive he is because of the result of the rain, his beard is glistering from the reflections of the diner’s lighting despite it being dull.

You felt your heart beat.

“No, its okay its a walking distance”  

“I can’t let a beautiful young dame like yourself walk alone now can I? Hop in the car once you’r are done.”

You blinked at him not knowing how to respond, you feel shy when you talk to him, always not knowing how to answer him back..maybe because he knew Xavier?

Or maybe because he had so much power as a sheriff..and you are sure he is going to be re-elected again next year. He apparently helped a lot of people to get out of debts but that makes you wonder how does he get all this money? Did Xavier know?

He seems like he is waiting for your answer, as his hands are on his waist, around his handcuffs and keys, and his lips playing with the toothpick lingering on his mouth

You easily get stuck in your head, you snap back to reality:  “it is okay, you don’t need to do - ”

He interrupts your sentence, “is there something you would like to say to me doll?, cause it looks like you just don’t want my company is that it?”  You felt his chest vibrate from how he uttered that question, it sounded nearly unintelligible.

You felt your heart pounding, sweat forming on your forehead. You didn't want to make him angry. “No no of course I want your company!, let me finish up and I will meet ya outside.”  You agitatedly vocalize your statement while looking at the ground

He loves that he can always get his way with you. You make it so easy.

He hums in approval

“No its alright I will wait for ya, love seeing you doing those house chores like a pretty little housewife. It is a sight dollface”, he chuckles while eyeing you up and down.

You pause, feeling tensed.

“Go on, continue” as he gives himself a seat, across from you to see you working and see your face.

He does love seeing your rear, but he loves seeing you flustered when he gazes at you.

You shakily start mopping the floor, every second feels like torture. Hoping he doesn’t realize the effect he has on you.

But however he has noticed, he is mused that he has power of you, makes his cock excited

“Am I making you nervous babydoll?” He cooes, shifting his toothpick on his lip, left to right with a slyish grin

You ignore him, giving him your side angle, while mopping away from him. You give him your back figure which makes me angry and hard at the same time.

“eye on me little lady”,  he says in a harsh tone, punctuating each word slowly

You respond back to him surprised with your confidence as you look at the door behind him, scared to look at him in the eyes, “can you please let me finish and you can take me home…” 

“Watch your manners baby, or you are in it for a spankin’, declares it with raised eyebrows.

You blush, why is he talking to you that way? it’s not like you were his wife….

Was he that touchy and talkative with you when Xavier was your boyfriend?

Carissa has told you no, he started acting differently ever since Xavier went missing and then declared dead.

“S-sorry sheriff”, you shift back to your older position, so that Duncan can see your face, and continue mopping

He likes when you are eyes are engaging with his eyes, he is waiting for the day when you touch yourself on his bed with your legs spread wide open for his wolf-like eyes to take in the view as you chant his name like prayer to give you the command for you to finally cum, while staring at him with your chastely eyes.

As you mop the floor, motioning it back and forth towards Duncan, your curvy body was in motion as well. He hoped you didn’t re-button your dress again, as he can take in the view of your breasts jiggling again. His eyes lingering slowly all over his favourite parts of your body, your neck, lips, neck, waist and hips . He noticed how nervous you are, there were fear in your eyes, you felt naked in his eyes because of his alpha-like eyes, giving you goosebumps.

You saw his pupils dilated not sure why.

-

After 15 minutes of awkward silence and Duncan forcing you to look at him as you were mopping the floor, you hoped the floor looks fine and that your boss Bob doesn’t get mad the next day.

You are not going to lie, you always wanted to be in his car. It was a dream car. You have seen them a lot in magazines, you don’t know much about cars but you do know this one, 1956 Chevy Bel Air, with a unique colour. White with purple around the edges, elaborate taillight and chrome highlights.

This was the first time you got close to the car, Your head started to hurt, you stood your ground, as you remember fragments of Xavier riding a similar car but in red.

Duncan realizes you might have remembered something…fuck fuck fuck, he hoped you didn’t remember what he didn’t want you to remember..

His hands grips your hand to make you snap out of it before you dig deeper into your suppressed memories.

“you alright there, doll?” Faking his concern you don’t know that, as he opens the door for you to hop in

“Ye..ah..” I am fine” you softly respond. His hand leaves your hand and goes to your back to shift you to get into his car.

You hop in his car, the car felt new, smell of leather with a mix of aged.. cigarettes smoked probably by Shepherd.

-

The car ride was silent.. he has an old song playing which makes it even more unbearable.

Midnight with the stars and you

Midnight and a rendezvous

Your eyes held a message tender

Saying "I surrender all my love to you

“How old is this song anyway?” You mention in annoyance with your right hand on the the rest that is placed near the door handle

Duncan has a wide smile on his face, happy that you are finally making a conversation with him.

“it’s from the 1930s I believe.....besides I don’t like the weird music you youngsters listen to nowadays..what was it Elvis Presley and The Beatles? They aint manly, jiggling all around with their bobby haircuts”  removing his hands from the steering wheel to motion with his hand the disapproval.

You giggle, and his heart skips a bit. Fuck. He couldn’t believe he made you giggle. Xavier always made you giggle and it frustrated him.

“The Beatles are swell….but James Dean has my heart. I loved his style in that movie, particularly his red jacket in Rebel Without a Cause.. it’s nifty.” You state swoonly as you gaze out of the window.

Midnight brought us sweet romance

I know all my whole life through

I'll be remembering you, whatever else I do

Midnight with the stars and you

He thought maybe that’s why you liked Xavier, he bought a similar red jacket as James Dean from the film several days after meeting you. Xavier also had that rebel vibe to him. He remembered his friend as well being a fan of Marlon Brando hence why he wanted to be an actor. To move out of the suburbs, to go to the dreamland..to Hollywood with you. You used to always want to be around him, he didn’t let the deputies patrol the drive in, since he always saw you there with him. He hated seeing you with his friend but he can’t help himself, he wanted to always be near you, see you and to one day feel your skin on his skin.

His jaw clenched and his brows furrowed as he starts to get jealous over a dead man.

You noticed his face seems boiling from rage as his hands gripped forcibly the steering wheel…you don’t know why. Scared to ask so you just continue gazing at the view in locomotion from the car window, as your sheer scarf around your head blowing from the impact of the window.

You loved the aftermath of the rain, the order after the chaos.

-

After a few minutes, The sheriff parks in front of your house. It’s 12 AM.

The house you lived in was basic, owned by your deceased father. It was a small house with a small balcony, it looks a little bit like a tree house. Wooden with no paint job. With a white door to enter the house, two small front steps and a small terrace, where you tend to read the Woman magazines.

He can’t wait for you to live in his house. Especially since he is a veteran who served in the Second World War, the government provided him with the perfect suburban American Dream home.

“Thanks for the ride, Sheriff.” you shyly state, about to open the door of his fancy car.

“Nah -ah -ah not too fast, you have to be punished.” He sings in a mocking tone with a daunting smirk.

You were nervously fidgeting, you don’t know why maybe because you are worried you might have done something that might be incriminating especially with your memory loss situation.

“What? What for?” you gullibly ask, looking up to him.

“You lied to me, you told me you had a doctor appointment when it fact you finish your shift late, kitten” , you see him remove the toothpick that was on his plump lips and put it on the ledge behind the steering wheel.

Oh thank God-

but why should I be punished for this? You didn’t know what to say to him so you just look at his eyes, waiting for any instructions.

He remarks that, he loves how obedient you are to him.

“Come closer, suga’r ” he taps his chest motioning you to come closer to him

What is the punishment? Is he going to spank me?

But we are not married why would he??

You timidly move close to him, refusing to make eye contact with him.

He lifts up your chin, bringing your face near his and your gaze to his.

“Kiss me or else I won’t let you leave this car”, Duncan whispers seductively as he shuts your window’s car seat and secures that your door is locked, trapping you in.

“..N…no..o” Duncan this isn’t right”,  you respond back.

As you shift back to your seat, Duncan aggressively grips your waist with his right hand and grips your chin with his left hand, forces you into a kiss and he goes deep and sensual, demanding access to your mouth but you instantly deny him entry.

This angers him, he aggressively yanks your hair, you gasp giving Duncan the chance to insert his tongue, he needed to taste your mouth.

You try biting his upper lip, he decides to lift up your weak body from your seat, manhandling you, without breaking from the kiss, you feel his strong hands spank you harsh. You whimper loudly.

This made his cock twitch, lust filling him at the thought of your spanked, bare ass turning into crimson-like imprints by his own hand; or by the paddle with his name engraved, so that his name can be imprinted on your ass…maybe next time.

He is waiting for you to make a bad move again so he can discipline you this way, even if you weren’t his bride yet.

You break the kiss gasping for air, “D..Duuncan..stop” you panted with watery eyes, trying to break away from his grasps, with your hands pushing his muscular chest. He didn’t take no for answer. Removing your hands out of the way with his claw-like hands and putting them around his broad back. He then forcefully dragged you onto his lap to straddle his thick thighs, “be a good girl now, you don’t want to be spanked now don’t you?”

He linked his lips with your lips with urgence and dominance. His tongue dancing with yours, wet and minty from the flavoured cigarettes he tends to smokes.

You felt one of his hands leave your waist and lingering underneath your skirt to cup your clothed sex.

A deep growl leaves his chest

He dreamt of touching this pussy for years. Your soft and squishy puffy lips felt so good on his rough manly hand.

You let out a soft gasp with eyes wide open in surprise, and broke away from the kiss to come up for air, a string of saliva connecting your lips.

Duncan grabs your chin, not giving you a second to breath and continues his assault on your lips and your clothed pussy. His middle finger going from your slit all the way to your swollen clit while his index and his forefinger are on your lips, touching you slowly with his hand. He wanted to make you wet before you left.

Your face flushed, you don’t remember if you reached that base with Xavier yet or not…he was your first boyfriend.

This felt forbidden, having his hands all around you.

You felt like you wanted to go to the bathroom, you were worried it might have been your period?

His tongue feels like hot water burning your skin. He claimed your mouth with intensity. You feel your knees weakened, Duncan filling all your senses.

You are so close to his body, your head in the crook of his neck, eyes closed, you feel his warmth and felt his heart beating quick. You put your hands on his golden badge situated on his right chest, reflected in the moon light, to try and push him away, but he didn’t budge.  

he left your assaulted mouth, hearing you panting heavily, and started licking at the column of your neck, his hand leaves your pussy and goes to your bared fleshed upper thigh, his hand moving in a reciprocating motion.  

You felt his beard tickling your left check and your neck, His hot soft grunts and warm breath sends shivers down your body and to your aching pussy

Not sure if it’s lust? Is this how you felt with Xavier ?

You bit down on your bottom lip trying to hold back a sob or was it a moan? 

“Duncan, I don’t feel good”

He knows he is making you feel good, you just need guidance that’s all.

“Why are you moaning then huh?” He chuckles, you felt his chest vibrating from his laughter, giving you goosebumps.

“give in baby, let me take care of you, that’s what Xavier would’ve wanted” he mutters darkly

your stomach twisting into a nervous knot, is this what Xavier would’ve wanted?

“Re-ally?”  You utter quietly with a blush heating up around your neck and cheeks.

He didn’t hear you. Thank God

he gets closer to your ear and whispers,“Knew you’d taste so sweet, just like candy, I wonder what’s the rest of you taste like hm?”

He aggressively bites your earlobe, his hot breath danced on your ear, “I bet just like those pancakes you serve me every morning, thick and creamy.” In a lustful tone.

You squirmed uncomfortably on his lap, felt something touch your stomach, he lets out a profound loud rumble, you look up at him out of shock, his wide blown eyes have now darken.

He looks at your lips that is now glistering and swollen from the kiss, he finally marked a part of you with his spit, he can’t wait to corrupt your other holes.

He decided to let go, this was enough to get him by in the meantime.

You felt his hand loosening around your waist. You take that chance to go back to your seat.

“I….I.. think you need to leave Sir, thanks for the ride”, your hands nervously twist with each other on your lap as you mentally facepalm yourself

“Sir” where did that come from?

Hearing you call him Sir made him groan silently and made his cock stir painfully against the zipper of his pants.

His already rigorous cock getting harder. Duncan trying to recollect himself and not fuck you for the first time in the backseat of his car.. he thought you deserved better than that..a shy innocent young server…probably a virgin.

Well he hoped you still were a virgin, he hoped that fucker didn’t take your virginity. he wanted to claim you for himself, every part of you.

“Why don’t you leave then birdie?”

You felt your thighs automatically clenched and your pussy tingling.

he never called you that, why did you like him calling you that?

Duncan saw your legs clamping together and took note of that. He also didn’t realize you can blush harder than that….you realized you were in his car….idiot

You got out of his car and you heard Duncan tsk out of annoyance, “where is your manners kitten?”

Whats up with him? You thought to yourself.. you thanked him before why do you have to thank him again?

You did not care anymore, you just wanted to back home without any problems and arguments

You huffed in annoyance, “Thanks for the ride Sheriff.”

You uncomfortably felt him linger at your figure as you walked back to your house.

He loves seeing you in motion.you move better than the waves of the ocean, smoothly and flawlessly. His steel blue eyes scanned you up and down, consuming in your body with hunger; that waitress dress in pale blue making you look even more innocent and seductive, an odd combination. He believes only you can do that, besides Marilyn Monroe.

He hoped he can see you from your window, with no curtains or an open curtain, so that he can watch you domestically, wondering how you look like touching yourself when you feel needy at night, if you did touch yourself.

-

You entered home safe and sound then the realization hit you…. how does he know where you live? You didn’t give him your address? But then again he is the sheriff, he probably has access to all that information but …does he know everyone’s address by hard?..you doubt that.  Maybe he visited you with Xavier?

-

After he saw you close the door, he paused for a second to relish the taste of you left on his lips and was about to put his key back to the ignition, until he saw something interesting.. that made him much harder than he already was… your arousal on the seat of his car.

He reclined his head back to the head restraint,

“Fuck.. you are trying to kill me doll?"

He was so tempted to taste your arousal… he felt like an animal as he brought his index to his seat that was tainted with your nectar and brought it back to his lips.

A hungry growl grumbled in his chest, “tastier than any fuckin candy”

His chest was full of pride, he was glad he made you wet. Not Xavier. Him

He opens his car’s compartment, there lies a stolen panty of yours covered in blood from that day, he didn’t want your fresh arousal going to waste, mixing it with your bloody panty.

After arriving home that day because of sexual urges, he relieved himself to thought of you for a second time, with his left hand holding your used panty from a year ago and his right hand unbuckling his belt, to reveal his throbbed cock. He smeared on his long length, the pre-cum leaking at the head.

Working on his cock, he brings your panty to his nose to sniff your dried blood blended with your womanhood scent, it smelled pure and sweet just like you. To make himself cum faster, he thought of you coming to his office one day during your break and cockwarming him on his lap while he finishes up paperwork, imagining your painful whimpers, you fidgeting in his lap because you are finding it hard to adjust to his cock because of how big he was, he imagines his cock bottoms out in your tight pussy, and how you wet walls clenches around his big cock.

“Dun..c.an, you are too big”, you whine with a giggle, shifting it into a squeal

“Call me sir, love it when you call me sir darlin’”,  he growls in your ear

“Sir”  , he imagines you whimpering through tears from his cock’s intrusion in your narrowed pussy

“Dollface, you are taking me so well, taking me all in” he praises you in a slightly low deep voice

A groan leaves his chest as he starts pumping his erected length harder, going from the bottom all the way to the top, twisting his tip, and then back down.

He envisions his pelvis rubbing against your mound and clit, your pussy being pink and wet engulfing his cock, while his right hand is feeling your soft and pulpous butt cheek. Your chest is heaving right in front of his predatory eyes, he decides to save the lustful images of him sucking your tits and nibbling your areola another time.

He imagines your voice in his ear, calling him sheriff, sir, daddy and begging him to start fucking you.

As he is about to reach his high, his thrusts gets sloppier with his sticky hands, chanting your name like a prayer over and over again.

Groaning louder as his cock twitches, moaning your name louder as ropes of white soaks his hand, and soaking your panty a bit with his cum.

-

Tired to change out of your clothes, you quickly go to your bed situated on the left side of your room. You feel the most peaceful in your room, the only time you don’t feel like someone is watching you despite the reoccurring nightmares ever since the incident.

With the floral window curtains. Roses and daisies on a shelf next to a concealed window, giving floral scents all around your room to help calm your nerves and help you fall asleep. At least that was what your doctor had recommended as repression memories if stayed long-term can cause emotional health problems like anxiety, depression and post-traumatic stress disorder.

You immediately shift to the deep slumber of sleep, out of exhaustion.

-

You wake up the next day 10:30 am. You slept well that day oddly enough, a peaceful sleep. You were happy since you haven’t had any nightmares the past few days. That happiness shifted when you realized the sensual incident that happened in public, and you don’t know how you will be able to work in the diner again, especially how small this town is. You will be the talk of the town again, because obviously that situation had to be with the fucking Sheriff.

At least for today, you had the day off today.  You told your Boss Bob that you have an appointment with your doctor at 1 pm, and since you closed the diner yesterday he decided to leave you off the hook.

You made yourself some coffee, and went to your closet that was attached to the wall to choose an outfit. You decide to go with a yellow pastel cardigan with a yellow gingham dress that has a spaghetti strap, wear some rouge lipstick and yellow pale eyeshadow with your hair tied into a pony tail.

You then passed sometime on TV watching Bewitched re-runs, and called Carissa at around 12:30 pm during her break to check in on her brother.

Your hands swirling around the cord waiting for someone from the diner to pick up.

Selma answers, “Hello, Welcome to Jukeburgers, the best milkshakes in town!, what can I do for ya today!” You could hear Venus by Franke Avalon playing and muffled voices in the distance, seemed surprisingly busy today.

You answer loudly, “hey Selma, it’s Y/N, can you pass the phone to Carissa!”

“Oh, Y/N how you been? I heard from Adam about what happened with the Sheriff, so y’all a thing now huh?… You went for the old powerful friend.” Selma teases, her laughing echoing from the speaker.

Your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest, you knew this was going to happen. Trying to sound strong and not in the verge of crying, “Whatever Selma, pass the phone to Carissa” your fingers twisted the cord nervously.

Selma just snickers and you hear her shouting out Carissa’s name to grab the phone

“Hey Y/N?”

“Cari!, I wanted to check up on you with Richard… you didn’t get to tell me what exactly happened…. is everything okay?” You utter in a concerned tone, gripping the phone handle harder.

“yeah yeah, we had to go to the hospital again, he got beat up again, but he didn’t wanna tell me why”  you hear her voice quivering on the other side.

You know Carissa is worried about him, as well as about his town finding out about his lifestyle.

She continues,“ You know Richard, I don’t want him to get locked up again, especially this town…views anyone that goes to the mental hospital… as lunatics”, you hear her voice quivering on the other side.

You remember Richard telling you that the Sheriff bailed him out the first time so now he owes the sheriff twice.

Why twice?

Was it because of his relationship with Jim Mason?

Does his sister know?

To not worry his sister, he sometimes tells you things that she doesn’t know and you were like Carissa to him. His big sister.

You snap out of your thoughts when you heard Carissa sniffling.

You hated hearing your friend’s sadness echoing from her voice, hoping you were there to hug her. “ I am glad he is okay at least, I miss seeing Richie, I will talk to him whether I get the chance… and you are right.”

You thought about what Carissa thought.

This small boring town feeds on gossip. It made you worried about Xavier’s parents…finding out about yesterday’s incident. Between the last girlfriend of their deceased son and one of his friends in an intimate scene.

What doesn’t help is that Xavier’s parents invited you and Duncan for dinner next week.

“He actually didn’t come today its as if he knows you might-“

You look at the time while you were on the phone, It was 12:40. Your eyes widen out of anxiety of being late. You cut your friend off without letting her finish the sentence.

“Oh shoot Carissa, I have to go now, my appointment is in 20 mins!”

“I really hope all goes well with the appointment, I know I tell you a thousand times but…I don’t really trust that doctor to be honest with ya”  she admits assuredly

There was a small pause, because you didn’t really know how to  react to that. He was the cheapest Doctor that you can afford. You really had no choice.

Carissa breaks the awkward silence, “well let me know what happens, hope it goes well!” She suddenly sounds different..and hopeful. Makes you happy that you can at least end the call with her tone shifting positively.

“Yeah.. I hope so.. bye Cari” you say weakly with a soft smile

The line goes dead.

-

You have been going to the doctor 11 months ago, it was recommended by the doctor who helped with your bruises and aided your surgery, Matt Rogers. Since there was nothing particular wrong with your brain scans. He thought it might be something psychological, and he was right. Your neurologist doctor Dr.Barnes, said it is due to trauma that your memories are repressed. Dr. Barnes said it is possible to have specific memories of people, locations and events repressed when it is too hard to bear. He also said It is possible for memories of abuse that have been forgotten for a long time to be remembered….you hope it isn’t related to abuse.

You feel nervous going to his office, you are honestly terrified of the idea of regaining back your memories, what if you find something really disturbing about yourself? About Xavier? How did you get those bruises? Why were some of your clothes missing? Why going to the doctor all those months didn’t help as much? Actually at all?

His office is located not that far off from the the Police department, in the neurology department of Willowdale public hospital.

“Welcome back Miss Y/N, please have a seat” signalling you to take a seat in front of his desk.

It doesn’t help that his office has muted painted walls, changed from age and a faint smell of mouth wash.

“So Y/N, has there been any recent changes?”, He asked while he scanned over your file.

“I finally have a small fragment of Xavier..in my head..” You pinpoint to right side of your forehead.

He knew about your relationship with Xavier and that you don’t remember much of it. It's weird how your brain almost erased that incident and Xavier out of your head.

“Finally some great news, please tell me more!”  He lowered your files to give you his undivided attention

“I..I don’t remember the incident, or any memories that I shared with him, just that Xavier had a similar car to Sheriff’s car, but a red version of it.”

There was a torturing pause, you look at your doctor, he seemed lost in thought with brows hollowed and biting his lower lip, he seemed anxious while clicking his retractable pen

You felt tension in the air, when you mentioned the Sheriff..but why?

He breaks a heavy smile,“Well, that’s great news to hear, maybe being  around the Sheriff might be in your favour huh?” he chuckles with a Chesire’s smirk on his face

Oh fuck. He probably heard about the incident that happened yesterday.

Your cheeks turn red as you turn your head to the left side of the room, focusing on the wall full of his certificates and accomplishments.

“Oh sorry, Y/N, that was unprofessional..covering his face with his hand, and then went back to look at your files

"No it’s all good Dr.” You gulped and nodded.

He clears his throat and asks, “ any nightmares lately?”

You shake your head, “I haven’t had one the past few days”

He nods while holding your file, “Good, Good. Are you taking the medications regularly at the appropriate time?”

“Yes…. but I haven’t remember anything that much sadly, is it supposed to take that much of a time?” You ask confusedly

“the brain is a complex neurological system, you can’t force its responses.”  thrusting out his lips in displeasure

You feel like you are wasting not only your time but also your money. But he is a doctor that you can afford so you have no other choice?

“Ah, I see, well as long as I get some answers pretty soon.” You look down on his Brintons carpet.

You felt your chest tightened out of sadness, will you ever find out what truly happened?

“So far, we are not sure if it is going to be a short term memory or long term memory loss Y/N, so what you can do is keep taking the medications, and you will be eventually get better Miss Y/N”

You nod with a fake smile.

Do you have a choice?

-

Duncan knew you were at the doctor today, he wish he was able to follow you, but he had a huge workload today. He wanted to see what kinda doll-like outfit you wore today. He particularly liked you in pastel colours and plaid skirts.

It was his break now.  He was waiting a call from a certain someone.

Clock ticking, and his legs bouncing up and down waiting for that fucker to call.

Phone rings once

Duncan takes the call.

“Whats the update?”

“Hi Sheriff, he continues "Well, your sweet gal remembered something..”

Duncan eyes widen, and his hands grips the cord aggressively

“What does she remember?”, Duncan says in a threatening voice

“She remembers he had the red car….. the one you got rid of”

His Adam apple gulps out of nerve but he is relieved you still don’t remember what happened that day.

“You fucker, you said those medications well help her not remember a fucking thing-“ his voice getting louder.

“Hey, hey, hey calm down there sheriff, no need to lose your temper, she hasn’t remember anything the past goddam 11 months! And I haven’t even tried hypnos-

“Listen you fuckin cunt, if she remembers anything I swear to God- I will put you in jail for your multiple-“  he chastised with a harsh tone.

“Alright Alright! No need to flip your lid! I will see what I can do to not make her remember a thing”  

“You better, or else I will make you lose your fuckin job and lose your pitiful wife” Sheriff expresses in an authoritative sound and hangs the phone stridently.

The Doctor had multiple rape attempts done. Duncan was called several times because of noise complaints, hearing ladies crying or screaming in multiple occasions at night, in drive-ins, parks and carnivals. 4 out of 10 times, it was Duncan who stopped the rape from occurring but he didn’t bring it up to the police department, and instead used this knowledge in his favour and out of power to gain information about his girl, when he discovered that he was going to be her neurologist, and to use him to manipulate her medications or her so that she doesn’t remember a thing.

He will do anything to make you not remember. He is shaping you to be his perfect little housewife. He got this far and he is not going back.

some songs mentioned in the chapter

https://open.spotify.com/track/3dDtXviPnTfLUg111MuTic?si=0d4f2a331a244100 - Midnight and The Stars and You by Ray Noble

https://open.spotify.com/track/2uwP4d0aVAo90aet6UnaRK?si=dc41f548d3324c9d - Venus by Frankie Avalon

Taglist: @instincts-baby @9layerdevilfoodcake @beautyiswithinchaos  @langdons-pinkyring @bloodcoatedeclipse   @plymptxn-reborn @5am-cigarette  @anakinsslag @michaellangdonstanaccount  @rexellaaa @jimmason @devilish-hecate @angelicmichael  @car241 @kitty4860 @deliciousartpoliticsdean @sojournmichael @ritualmichael  @darkladyslytherin 

@luciahoneychurch @saamwilsonn  @chicaluna2410  @honeyblossom56 

@codysprincexx​ @thatbit5 @wasteland-babe

[relatable-pictures-of-orko]

WHY LESSONS EXEMPLIFIES EVERYTHING WRONG WITH 200X

It’s sad, because it was my favourite episode as a kid. It was the only He-Man episode I had saved on my computer from age 12 to 19, when I finally rewatched it and fell back into the motu fandom. However, each time I watch it, I find another thing that holds it back. And now that I am slowly rewatching the show, I find these flaws are inherent to it as a whole, and plague the show.

EXHIBIT A: INABILITY TO FOLLOW THROUGH ON ESTABLISHED PLOT POINTS

In Lessons, the main plot is kicked off after Orko preforms a Classic Screwup and destroys billions of dollars worth of statues. Crucially shown is Duncan’s role in the disaster: Instead of thinking logically to try and find a way to safely get the levitating statue down, he simply grabs Orko’s arm to cancel the spell and is surprised when the statue falls and breaks.

And from here, we could get into a whole discussion on whether it makes this Duncan’s fault, or we could argue that it was still Orko’s fault for acting without permission in the first place, or then argue that it’s in fact Duncan’s fault after all for this or that or-

Regardless, it doesn’t really matter who’s fault it is.

What matters is that Duncan and Orko literally never interact again for the rest of the episode after this scene.

The episode establishes a conflict between two characters, and then fails to even acknowledge said conflict for the rest of the storyline. 

EXHIBIT B: A FUNDAMENTAL MISUNDERSTANDING OF THE ORIGINAL SHOW AND CHARACTER DYNAMICS

In most aspects, the episode follows a standard Orko Runaway Plot: Orko is sad and wants to leave, and characters convince him to stay. However, how this diverges from the Filmation show is the reason Orko is given to stay.

In Filmation, the Sorceress shows him his worth as a person. She shows the others looking for him, missing him, that there would be a significant impact if he was gone. Furthermore, it is made clear that it does not matter whether he is good at magic or not: He is family to the other characters, and they’ll love him regardless of any percieved use to the group. 

Lessons, meanwhile, takes a different approach. Orko is instead shown flashbacks of his past, to exposition to the audience his backstory. Among this is the main argument as to why he should stay: He cheered up the king when he was sad. 

So the lesson is this: It doesn’t matter if Orko is good at magic or not. As long as people can laugh at his failure, he has worth. 

The episode tries to backpedal on this in it’s moral segment, where Orko claims that your friends will like you even if you make mistakes. But that still does nothing to prove that “Who you are” is more than just the jester that makes you laugh. 

And in the episode itself, no one even notices Orko’s gone. It was pure chance that Skeletor just happened to target Grayskull while Orko was there. It almost seems like they were going out of their way to make it feel like no one truly cared about him. The only evidence we see against that is Adam being motivated to raise himself from an injury and fight again after being told that Orko was in danger. But that’s not something you really notice unless you pay attention to it, and it’s outweighed by everything else. 

EXHIBIT C: NOT LETTING CHARACTERS OTHER THAN HE MAN SAVE THE DAY

Uh oh! He-Man has been taken out of commission! Now only Orko can save the day! What will he do?

.... 

As it turns out, his actions consist soley of providing a brief distraction and then getting knocked out. 

But luckily, He-Man is conveniently back now! Good thing He-Man is always here to save the day!

...Huh? What did you say about Orko having a character arc?

So first off, it’s made very clear that Orko being written out of the climax is incredibly forced; Orko is dropped literally two feet and it somehow knocks him out for several minutes. Despite having shrugged off worse injuries before and after this, being very lightly tossed in this scenario is somehow just too much for his little body to handle and he simply must sit the rest of this fight out. 

Secondly, it’s ALSO incredibly obvious that the writers were mandated to include He-Man saving the day in every. single. episode. 

Now, it’s understandable. If you think about it, Filmation most likely had the same thing. But the reason it wasn’t quite so obvious in Filmation was because the writing was better at keeping He-Man distanced enough from the other character arcs enough so that the others still had a chance to shine. Take Dawn of Dragoon for example. Even though He-Man defeated Dragoon, Orko was still the one to revive Dree Elle and the others. Even though He-Man did a fight against a bad guy and won, Orko still fulfilled his character arc of the episode without much interference besides a brief pep talk.

However, 200X struggles to accomplish this same subtle workaround. Oftentimes, it’ll have He-Man either do Too Much, making the other characters feel like they aren’t contributing enough, or Finish the Job, making it feel like he did more purely on association that he did the last notable thing in the climax. 

Lessons is no different. Orko contributes nothing to the final battle of the episode. Even though the Sorceress claims that Orko is needed to fight against Skeletor and co, the average audience member simply does not get that impression because Orko contributed so little to that plot. 

I’m pretty sure the only one who has it worse off than Orko in this regard is Teela, considering how many times she had to be saved in the episodes specifically dedicated to showing how competent she could be. However, this happens to several other characters as well, like Buzz Off, Mekaneck, etc.  

I could go into a whole other rant about that, but this is an Orko blog so I’ll save you the off topic rambling. 

Anyways yeah this show is a mess

[pinkandgirlyblog]

Tutor Partner (Thomas x reader TMR)

Thomas x reader (The Maze Runner)

High School AU

Warnings: Kissing, fluff and light swearing

It’s funny how soulmates meet, in story books in battle, in movies the jock falls for the nerd and your parents meet at a bar. It’s always the person you least expect and for Thomas... well.... he didn’t expect this. 

Thomas was apart of the skater group, so he wouldn’t be the lad playing lacrosse after school or the stoner doing drugs. He viewed himself to be average, nothing special. All his work was to a normal standard, he would hand in the homework and then go out practising on his skateboard. He had a small circle of friends, Newt, Minho and Frypan. Newt didn’t like to skate but would watch with his girlfriend, Hannah.  On the note of girlfriends, Thomas was very much, alone. No love life, no crush, nothing. As I said, average. 

It was a normal Wednesday morning, he had skated to school with Minho and now was heading up to tutor with Hannah and Newt. He was third-wheeling but didn’t mind as he saw his friend happy. Newt was recovering from a rare type of cancer called ‘The Flare’ so it was hard for him sometimes but it was lovely to see Newt interacting with the world again. 

As they walked up the stair well, they could hearing obnoxious laughing coming from the corridor outside their tutor. As they looked through the glass door to the corridor they saw Y/N laughing at something Brenda said. Thomas sat next to Y/N in tutor, they talked sometimes but nothing more then ‘hellos’ and discussing the lessons of that day. They were both very socially awkward. As soon as Hannah saw the two girls she kissed Newt quickly and joined them. Newt sighed and stated with a dreamy look on his face,

 “Isn’t she perfect?”

Thomas just laughed at his best mates face and said, 

“We know you have a girlfriend. Don’t need to rub it everywhere”

“Just because Y/N won’t go out with you doesn’t mean you need to bring my relationship down”

Thomas panicked for his friend said his last sentence a bit loud, making him look back at Y/N, relieved to see her gossiping with Hannah and Brenda. 

“Quite will you? She could hear!” 

“So? Just ask her out.”

“I don’t like her like that and you know it dipshit.”

Thing is, after the new seating plan, Newt, Minho and Frypan had been teasing Thomas endlessly on this none existent crush on his table partner. He just thought she was pretty and had a nice personality, that’s all. 

“Keep telling yourself that Tommy”

And with a final wink, Newt followed the three girls walking into the classroom with Thomas following with a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. It was just the cold, he had thought. How wrong he was.

As he sat down next to Y/N, he turned on his computer and loaded one of the games from the internet, although this wasn’t aloud, he did it anyway. He could see Y/N watching his screen from the corner of his eye and he smiled slightly. She was pretty, this was obvious, with her sparkling eyes and how she puckered her lips when listening.  They only spoke three times that day, to say the history test was hard which Y/N had today and Thomas had had the day before, how the teacher was being boring and how Instagram got a new update and they hated it. As they left Thomas felt a sense of sadness he hadn’t spoken more and when he walked with Newt and Hannah, he felt almost home sick from being away from Y/N’s eyes. Getting lost in them. He didn’t like her though, he had told himself, he just thought she was pretty.

It was Friday and tutor had been going well, they would talk more in tutor and laugh. She and him would play the games on the computer together as a past time for the long 45 minutes of the sessions. Thomas almost felt so happy he could burst. She was so funny and nice. He wanted to be around her all the time and yet he still told himself he didn’t like her, not in a non-friend way of course. He lied.

He liked her very much so. 

After a few weeks, he told Newt and Minho, who were beyond ecstatic. 

One day, Y/N was walking to Brenda’s house to walk to school together, Frypan and Newt walked on the other side of the road, Newt had whispered to Frypan, not so quietly might I add,

“That’s Y/N. The girl Tommy likes”

Y/N pretended not to hear and yet she was beyond excited. Her crush liked her too. 

That day in tutor, they were told by the teacher they where doing sing-off as a bit of fun for the end of term. Y/N and Thomas where picked to perform last and they where beyond nervous. 

Hannah and Newt did really well, and before long it was their go.

Thomas and Hannah stood up and stood a foot apart from each other, waiting for the music to start. 

Thomas started with the song ‘All the small things’ by blink-182 but was quickly cut off by Y/N singing (your favourite song). Thomas smiled slightly when he saw her having fun, it made him elated to be apart of it. Soon Thomas cut her off by singing ‘Arcade’ by Duncan Laurence, Y/N smiled encouragingly at Thomas until she again, cut him off. She started singing ‘Play with fire’ by Sam Tinnesz, she slowly stalked up towards Thomas and let her eyes drug in his appearance. She slowly walked around him while singing making Thomas palms sweat with anticipation, as the chorus came closer, she stopped nose to nose with him and whispered,

“I’ve always liked to play with fire”

Thomas made a split second decision, he grabbed her neck in a choke hold and pulled Y/N in for a kiss which she eagerly returned. It sounded cliche but fireworks exploded and their bodies tingled. As they came out for air, Thomas nuzzled his nose against hers and said confidently,

“Be mine”

and Y/N answered just as confidently,

“I always was”

[fernfiction]

Jealous Duncan shepherd that initiates rough sex that the reader has to use their safe word 🥺 and sweet aftercare cause we know Duncan is daddy❤️

Anon, I'm sorry I strayed from this ask slightly. I'm not well versed on safe words etc so I didn't want to offend anyone or get it wrong 😭

(smut. degradation. choking. name calling)

You giggled, touching your lips as you tried to hush yourself. You could hear Duncan huffing and puffing across the room. He kept banging things, presumably to show his anger.

Oh well. He should have thought about pissing you off before he decided to cancel next weeks vacation. It was your first anniversary and he had cancelled because his darling mother was going through a rough time.

You had argued for hours earlier. Duncan even went as far as suggesting you take a break from each other. Your argument had to end when your boss rung, wanting to discuss an important client. It was only when he suggested moving over to Zoom, that Duncan had an issue. Your boss was handsome, older than you and very flirty. You wanted to piss Duncan off so you reciprocated the flirty behaviour.

"Are you home alone right now y/n? What happened to your boyfriend?" "Ugh yeah. Boyfriend? Maybe not for much longer" you rolled your eyes.

BANG. Duncan slammed his mug on the table and charged towards you. He stood over you and stared right into the laptops camera. "I'm right fucking here. Why? You wanna take a chance? You wanna have her, is that what you want??!" "Duncan, what are you doing!! Get the fuck away!!"

Duncans eyes were raging. He grabbed you by the neck and stood you up. "Tell your bit on the side to end the call now. Otherwise he's gonna have to watch what I do to you"

Your boss was watching with a frightened look on his face, but also eager with anticipation.

You slammed the laptop shut and grabbed Duncans arm. "There you go you prick."

"Listen to me silly girl, I'm gonna remind you who you belong to and you're gonna be screaming my name all fucking night"

You felt a wetness between your legs as Duncan leant in and took your bottom lip between his teeth. "Fuckkk Duncan.. You're a prick but you make me so fucking wet.".

"I know I do... bitch."

These profanities were part of your sex life. You were all about harsh, rough, pound me till I can't walk sex. Duncan loved dominating you and you were very happy being his sex doll.

Duncan pinned you to the floor, tying your hands with a black silk cloth.

He ripped off his clothes and held his cock in his hand. Straddling your face, he tapped it over your lips gently... "You really think you can live without this huh?"

You opened your mouth, dying to taste him. But Duncan wasn't letting you have him this easy. Grabbing your jaw, he growled "Not so fast, slut. I'll decide when you're worthy of my cock"

Before you knew it, he was ramming his cock deep inside you. You loved being his slut, laying there and letting him drill into you with such force.

"Fuck me harder Duncan, ruin me"

He grabbed onto your throat and continued rutting into you with such strength , you thought your pussy was going to rip open.

The scream that escaped your lips turned into a deep moan as he hit your sweet spot and made you cum.

"Mm that's it, cum all over my cock"

He pulled out of you and moved over your face again.

"Now lick yourself off me."

You nodded and let him fuck your throat to his desire. You felt him twitch in your mouth and you knew he was close. You knew Duncan was going to release himself from your mouth and cum on your face. It was his favourite way to finish himself off.

"Yes, ugh, fuck. Take that all over your pretty face..my little slut" You felt the familiar sensation of his warm sticky cum all over your face. You devoured whatever was on your lips. Just like that, Duncans demeanour changed. You always found it fascinating how he would go from vicious feral animal, to caring loving sweetheart. Grabbing a soft cloth, he cleaned your face and moved towards your lips. Kissing them gently, he moaned at the taste of himself in your mouth.

He lifted you up in his strong arms and walked to the bathroom. Slowly releasing your hands from the silk cloth, he kissed them and led you to your huge walk in shower. You were wrecked, but you knew Duncan would take care of you. As you stood under the warm relaxing shower, Duncan hugged you from behind.

"Like I would ever want to break up with you. Where else am I going to find someone like you huh?"

You mumbled a "mmm yeah okay" as he lathered you up. You would continue this conversation later. Right now you just wanted to be pampered by Duncan, the talk could wait.

Taglist - @jimmason @angelicmichael @codyfernmorelikedaddyfern @whatcodysaid

[casikototmblr]

Dating Duncan - Headcanon.

Summary: Headcanon about you being in a relationship w/ duncan.

warnings: mentions of sex, NSFW.

Dating Duncan wouldn’t be one of the easiest things in the world but he made sure you knew this from the start of your relationship.

Duncan would spend the majority of his time at political events, prestigious galas which you would normally attend by his side or he’d be stuck at the office.

Duncan would be tied up with work a lot, what with him being the workaholic he is. If there was an addiction for work, Duncan would for sure have it.

Duncan could never stay at work for too long, as your attempts to make him come home would always be successful. Even though he’d try his hardest not to give in.

It would first start of with sending some pretty suggestive messages like the following: “your face would look pretty cute between my thighs right now...just saying!”

After realising your suggestive messages weren’t doing the trick, you’d start sending him plenty of explicit pictures/videos of you in one of his favourite pieces of lingerie, often captioned with the following: “missing you daddy” or “just get home so you can tear this off me...”

Within a couple of minutes of you sending the pictures/videos and him seeing them, you would receive a message: “on my way home, DON’T do anything til i get home, or you ain’t getting anything baby girl...”

The second Duncan would step through the door, he’d make quick work of finding you, snaking his arms around your waist before pulling you close to him as he would attach his lips to yours, pushing you up against whatever surface was closest.

You would wrap your legs above Duncan’s hips, your hands entangled in Duncan’s soft locks as he carried you from the hallway to the office in your city apartment.

Duncan always insisted fucking in a different room everytime, but his favourite room had to be the office that had a view of the city down below.

He’s a sucker for a fuck with a view.

Other times, he’d tease you. His finger ghosting over your clothed bundle of nerves before slowly peeling your panties off just to make you even more desperate. Your whiny mewls only encouraged him more to take his time.

But when he wanted you there and then, he would make quick work of bending you over the desk. His hand sweeping down and pulling the set to one side whilst he would quickly free himself before slamming into you without warning.

He would be big into spanking, just the sight of your ass gripped in his hands was a massive turn-on for him.

Duncan would take aftercare seriously, especially when he pushed you to your limits. He would make sure you had plenty of rest and had everything you needed before he’d have to leave again.

Duncan would be the sweetest person to you. He’d give you everything you wished for and wanted, there wasn’t nothing he wouldn’t do for you. He enjoyed making you as happy as possible.

[lady-daydream]

MacCready and Duncan Headcanons-Fallout 4

4 Year Old Deacon -

Lucy was always the one that got him to laugh or stop crying. So when MacCready had to deal with all these issues without any help or guidance he felt extremely lost. Unknown to him at the time however MacCready didn't have to worry when Duncan was a baby since he reasonable quiet child however he became concerned when by the age of three he still wasn't talking, just nodding or shaking his head. MacCready was borderline considering getting a doctor to check if his son was mute when Duncan talked for the first time. MacCready had just come back from his farm around midday, physically tired and thirsty. As he walked into there little shack of a home he saw Duncan sat under the wooden table (His favourite spot). Greeting him with a tired smile he laughs before asking “ you alright down there bud?, almost didn’t see you there. You must have superpowers just like in the comics”. Duncan nods while smiling before going back to playing with a poorly stuffed Teddy Bear MacCready had picked up while scavenging, while MacCready slowly made his way over to the broken fridge. He was halfway through drinking some of the water he had collected that morning when he heard a small voice say “ Can I have some water as well dad”. This was followed by MacCready dropping his glass, muttering something he hoped Duncan didn't hear under his breath before quickly rushing over to kneel next to his son, holding his face in his hands. “Did you just talk little bud? “ he asks his eyes almost watering as Duncan says yes. Duncan had just caught onto speaking however just didn't feel the need to speak.

Duncan could follow basic direction and instructions by the age of 4. He would follow his dad around while he was working on the farm. So MacCready would ask Duncan to pick up small items , or to go fetch things such as bullets if he was checking over his gun or to show him where items are. MacCready loves the curiosity and excitement in his sons eyes. 

Duncan likes to make and sing silly songs with random words as well as goofy made up words. MacCready likes to try and sing along if he can pick up the tune, so when he is working in the field it always cheers him up to sing with his son since it distracts them of all the darker and sadder memories surrounding the two of them.

Duncan is naturally creative and since MacCready is normally away doing work Duncan ended up with the neighbour family and idea, play together. Duncan started developing an imaginary friend quite earlier one, and would try and draw pictures of his imaginary friend as well as his friends and his dad.

At this point, Duncan is able to do basic things such as getting dress and eating and cleaning himself, and due to this slowly MacCready starts taking up Gun for hire jobs again. Though he is hesitant and has the neighbours check up on his son after a few months of getting used to this routine it becomes routine, with MacCready making up the time he is away whenever he comes back.

Duncan still have tantrums because of changes in routine or not getting what they want and for a while he started getting into a small phases of arguing over thing that Duncan understands are wrong just to see his dads reactions. This of course was a strain on MacCready since he is a naturally blunt person, he had to learn quite quickly to separate his love for his Son, but also understand he had to teach Duncan right or wrong so that he had more guidance than MacCready did.

11 Year Old Duncan - 

After getting the cure and finally joining his dad in the Commonwealth, slowly Duncan fit in better than anyone expected. Everyone felt some sort of compassion for the small kid. After a few years of this it seems he has picked up small traits from everyone. He enjoys listening to Uncle Hancock's wacky and weird stories, both their height amounts of energy  (despite Hancock trying to sober up a little around the kid) leading to chaos, Having Valentine, Preston and Piper around though always means the kids has a high levels of curiosity , wants to ask question and can read and write to a considerably high level for his age. He enjoys following sole around though, watching what they are doing and always asking why.

Physically Duncan is also a perfect 50/50 of MacCready and Lucy. He has his mother’s eyes and more roundish cheeks as well as inherited her smile. He does have MacCready hair as well as his more muscular but lean built, as well as having MacCready left handedness.

However, there are other things as well. He is thinner than normal, and he never seems to be able to put on weight, He has a gap in his teeth that always stands out. He has freckles that only get more prominent on sunny days. He also gets tired easier, running out of breath as well as having a slight limp from not being able to walk for a long while. This added with growth spurts means Duncan ends up in a lot of pain. MacCready always tries to have painkillers on him, and hates seeing his son like this.

Though Duncan is still close to his Dad, Duncan starts to resist physical affection. He wont want hugs as much or doesn't want to spend as much time with his dad. Though he still enjoys sharing comics together as well as hearing his dad’s stories about what him and sole and all the adventures they got up to.

This ones for you  @theartofblossoming I hope its okay, sorry its a bit short. I'm sorry in advance if their are many spelling mistakes please comment if you see any so I can correct them. :) If anyone has any suggestions/imagine/headcannons please just message me or comment and I will try and write it as quickly and to the best as my ability. I hope everyone has an amazing day, love you all <3

[langdxn]

Hi!! I was wondering if u could do a blurb thingy about face sitting/face riding? Like whichever of Cody’s characters u think it fits best with but like. Him just laying on the bed and being like “sit on my face” 🥵idk that’s the hottest way to get head imo and I’m so thirsty for it I need some good writing on it 🖤

I feel personally attacked 🥵 I’m going for Duncan just because it suits him so well, let me know if you’d like this for another character! Thank you so much anon, this was way too much fun 🖤

(gif by zach-villas)

High risk Chinese whispers was Duncan Shepherd’s favourite game.

The formal galas you and your husband were compelled to attend never bothered you, especially as they became a perfect opportunity to challenge each other to talk dirty in public.

As the two dignitaries with whom you were making idle small talk excused themselves from your company, Duncan’s hand decidedly glued to your waist gripped you tightly, cinching you into him.

“As soon as I get you home tonight, you’re going to sit on my face. Understood?”

A nervous giggle slipped off your tongue.

“Excuse me, Mr Shepherd?”

“Did I fucking stutter?” He chuckled under his breath. “If you like, I can say it a little louder, Ms Underwood over there didn’t quite catch it the first time—“

“Oh I heard you just fine, darling,” you placed a palm on his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath his crisp black shirt. “I just didn’t expect it.”

“You didn’t expect that your husband, after an agonising night entertaining these insufferable democrats, wants to eat out his wife?”

You blushed a deep shade of pink, plastering a fake wholesome smile across your lips just in case anybody was watching.

“Did you do what I asked you before we left?” His hand wandered down to your hips, fingertips pressed into your dress for any sign of panties beneath the silk clinging to your curves.

“Of course, baby, I don’t renege on our deals about no underwear,” you rolled your eyes at him.

“You did not just hold that against me again,” he sassed, squeezing your hip harder. “I told you I couldn’t go to meet the goddamn President without boxers on underneath grey pants. We’ve been through this!”

You leaned in to plant a devious kiss on his lips, whispering lowly against his mouth.

“I’ll hold it against you every single day until you let me drag you out of these godforsaken high society shitshows early so I can ride your face.”

Leaning back in surprise, he glared at you from beneath furrowed brows and lust-blinded hooded eyes.

“That’s it, we’re getting out of here. Right now.”

———

Stumbling through the apartment door like two sex-crazed teenagers, Duncan carried you to the bedroom, legs wrapped around his waist, throwing you both on the bed and yanking your dress clean from you.

“Get up here,” he snarled, “right now.”

Shuffling up from his waist, whimpering as you left the comforting warmth of his rock hard length bursting through his tuxedo pants, you rested your knees beside his messed-up brunette curls and parted your thighs. As you gripped the headboard, the burn of Duncan’s stubble against your inner thighs ushered a flush of arousal through your folds. He moaned greedily, scratching lightly down your back as the tip of his tongue began trailing slow, beckoning circles around your clit. His lips latched on gently as he suckled, drawing your clit into his mouth.

“Fuck, just like that, Duncan,” you growled, clutching the headboard with all your strength as your eyes rolled to the ceiling. An uncontrollable tremble took hold of your thighs, quivering beneath you as Duncan slicked around your folds and his nose tickled your clit.

You trailed a reassuring hand through his hair as he moaned into your folds, revelling in every pulse of your muscles, every delicious twitch that told him you were enjoying him as much as he was enjoying you.

You glanced down to catch his piercing blue eyes gazing longingly at you, watching you unwind on top of him in the same blissful manner as the very first time he made you cum.

No sooner had Duncan introduced his tongue to your cunt, licking a soft stripe between your folds, he suddenly thrust his tongue inside and your hips bucked frantically, thighs constricting around his head. A burning ache deep in your belly reached boiling point inside you, heat rising to your cheeks and your thighs as you gripped onto the headboard so hard it might snap.

“Baby, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you begged him, fisting his soft brunette locks as he hummed contentedly into your drenched folds, keening his own hips to the sound of your glistening folds smacking beneath his cum-soaked lips.

“I’m gon... I’m gonna—-” you were cut off by your own overwhelming orgasm snapping deep inside you, flowing streams of arousal onto Duncan’s waiting lips, parted gently as he whimpered beneath you.

“I fucking love you,” Duncan smiled against your thighs, peppering light kisses as you slowly regained control over your body enough to tip onto the bed beside him. You were frozen to the spot for much longer than you anticipated, taking your time over the journey back to down earth from cloud nine.

“You did so well for me, baby,” Duncan held your face in both hands, kissing your forehead and beaming across his glistening lips as you gazed lovingly back at him.

In your blissful haze, your hands subconsciously travelled to his pants, swiftly parting his belt and zipper.

“What exactly are you doing down there, Mrs Shepherd?”

“Checking if you’re wearing boxers.”

[msjessicaday]

Community for the ask thing :)

1. Favorite episode and why

Remedial Chaos Theory. Do I even need to explain? Pure brilliance. I mean it when I say this episode was peak comedy. 

2. Funniest/crackiest/it’s-terrible-but-I-still-love-it episode/scene

It’s a hard tie between the darkest timeline in Remedial Chaos Theory and the scene where everyone is shooting each other with prop guns in Conspiracy Theories and Interior Design sdfhkjsdfhksjdkhfds Both are chaotic but in v different ways. 

3. It’s-terrible-and-I-hate it episode/scene

First thing that came to mind was Troy and Britta’s breakup in Basic Human Anatomy. It was just a mess. And the buildup towards it was a mess. Season 4 did them so so dirty and it still makes me really sad when I think about it. The only scene I claim from the episode is the last scene when Britta pulls Troy in for a hug................babies.................

4. Best episode/scene for my favorite character

I love any episode where Annie’s trying to help someone in the group. I especially love her speech to Abed about his anxieties in Virtual Systems Analysis. I tear up every time. I also really love her determination to help Britta in Origins of Vampire Mythology. I mean...the banana bit alone puts this episode high on my list of faves. 

5. Best episode/scene for my favorite ship

For Jeff and Annie: Conspiracy Theories and Interior Design!!!!! Nothing beats them playing detective together. Oh, but their first real kiss in Pascal’s Triangle Revisited is a super close second. Just. A beautiful shot. Beautiful music. The emphasis on their height difference. Yeah.................yeah...........One of my favourite tv kisses ever.

For Troy and Britta: The scene in Documentary Filmmaking: Redux when everyone is walking away from the group hug but Troy and Britta are still hugging..........................................................I wanted to cry as I was typing that just now I love them so much.

6. Best episode/scene for a particular supporting character

Garrett screaming “CRISIS ALERT” just popped into my head so there you go dhfkshsdkfshdf 

7. Best episode/scene for a character I don’t usually like

Gonna say Pierce for this one and best scene is his reaction to Abed smashing his guitar 😭 Idk what it is about that scene, but my mom and I LOSE it every time.

8. Most visually beautiful or interesting episode/scene

The paintball two-parter in season 2 is honestly a cinematic masterpiece. Close second for me is Abed’s Uncontrollable Christmas. Such a pretty, incredibly well-done episode!

9. Most emotionally affecting episode/scene

Abed’s Uncontrollable Christmas. Possibly one of my favourite sitcom christmas episodes, and probably the one that makes me cry the hardest. The Britta Bot song makes me tear up every time. When they read Abed’s christmas card from his mom, I sob. I sob even more when Abed freezes but then slowly thaws as the group defends him from Duncan. And when Abed realises that the meaning of christmas for him is...being with his friends...yeah at this point, I’m a huge mess.

10. Most powerful use of music in an episode/scene

Ends of the Earth in the finale :( I really love that song and as soon as they started playing it, I broke down. Especially if you look at it in Abed’s perspective when he’s saying goodbye to Jeff:

“To the ends of the earth, would you follow me? There's a world that was meant for our eyes to see. To the ends of the earth, would you follow me? If you won't, I must say my goodbyes to thee”

LIKE FUCK. I’M NEAR TEARS RIGHT NOW

11. Episode/scene that changed my perspective on the show

Modern Warfare. I love season 1 but imo it’s not until that first paintball episode that you truly realise how different this show is in the best way possible. Unparalleled. And that episode was only the beginning of their wonderfully weird episodes.

12. Episode/scene where the acting stands out

I instantly knew I was gonna have an Abed answer for this one but I’m struggling to pick which episode/scene because Danny Pudi is brilliant 24/7. Sooo right now, I’m just gonna go with Geothermal Escapism.

13. Overall best-written episode

Oh I hate this because all the really well-written episodes (and there are plenty) couldn’t be more different from each other. But I guess Remedial Chaos Theory??? ‘Twas a cultural reset.

[knives-out20]

Loving You Is A Losing Game - John Constantine x Male!OC

Fandom: Legends Of Tomorrow (2016-Present)

Pairing: Vinoja (OC) x John Constantine

Word Count: 2294

Warnings: Angst, Sad Vinoja,

Notes: ehehehehehehhehehe. Stream ‘Arcade’ by Duncan Laurence, it inspired this oneshot.

Dedicated To: @peccetis​

Vinoja stood in front of the big mirror in the captain's office of the Waverider, hands interlocked behind his back. His lips perked up into a smile when a familiar pair of lips kissed his cheek. The Archangel turned his head, "Johnny, hi" he greeted. 

John smiled up at his boyfriend."Hi, luv".

"What's up? You need anything?" He asked, eyebrows raising. Vinoja reached out, holding John's hands in his own. His eyes sparkled in the light, green with hazel flecks hidden near the irises. 

"Aw, what? I'm not allowed t'come see my favourite Archangel every once in a while?".

Vinoja puckered his lips in thought."I guess so" he chuckled, leaning in and lovingly kissing John, who cupped his cheek. When Vinoja slowly pulled away, he still had a smile on his face.

"Any news on your kids? Any updates?".

"They still miss me, and Hayward is still calling you a knockoff version of him. In my- very pretty- eyes, you're both two completely different people that mean so much to me. You, obviously, in a different way, babe" Vinoja replied, one hand still in John's, thumb stroking his.

John nodded, pulling his hand away."I'll go see where Zari is; maybe even get a bloody heads up as to where we're headed next. Catch you later, luv. Bye, I love you".

Vinoja nodded back, waving."I love you, too, John" he bade John goodbye, watching the current love of his life walk off. Once John was out of the room, out of an earshot and sight distance, Vinoja turned back to the window. He strictly crossed his arms over his chest, hoping to distract himself from the hole in his celestial heart with the breathtaking view in front of him. Vinoja took deep breaths, in and out repeatedly, to see if that would stop the waterworks he was sure were going to come.

"That was cheesy".

"Fucking-" Vinoja jumped, turning to see Sara grinning at him."Hell, Sara, what the fuck?" He scowled, the feeling of tears dying down. Nothing's more pathetic than an all-powerful Archangel crying over his boyfriend in front of a blond assassin who used to be in the League Of Assassins.

"Sorry" Sara shrugged, walking over, though clearly not as sorry as Vinoja would have liked her to be."It was hard not to notice the short romance film John and you just had".

The corner of Vinoja's lip momentarily twitched up. He hummed incoherently, turning back to the window.

Sara's eyebrows raised, shocked."Oh? The great and gay Vinoja the Archangel, not going off on some sort of sappy tangent over his boyfriend? Unheard of" she teased, now standing at his side. Sara reached up to just around Vinoja's neck, and if it weren't for him being an Archangel, she could totally kick his ass.

"Maybe I don't feel like bothering you today over how much I love my boyfriend" Vinoja muttered, his voice hitting a certain edge when he said 'boyfriend'.

Sara scoffed."Took you a while".

Vinoja stayed silent, arms crossed again as he focused his gaze out into the abyss.

"How long have you two been dating for, again?" She asked.

"Around four to five years." Vinoja strictly answered.

"Jeez, really? And you haven't married him, yet?".

Vinoja immediately snapped his fingers, transporting himself to the quiet little library on the Waverider (the last thing he heard being Sara yelling "hey!") and onto a soft couch. Vinoja groaned quietly, running his tatted, callous hands through his brown hair. He rested his elbows on his knees, head in his hands as he stared down at the wooden floor. Vinoja's hand started to shake, as he grit his teeth to not make any sound.

"Hey!".

Vinoja glanced up, seeing a semi-pissed-off Sara at the doorway.

"What the hell was that?".

"You asked me a question I didn't feel like answering".

"You could have told me!".

"Didn't want to, how'd you find me so quickly?" He questioned, sitting up.

"I know how much you like this room, Vinoja" Sara grumbled, walking in and plopping down beside Vinoja. She put her hand on his back, softly stroking."Y'okay?".

"Mmmh, kinda".

Sara stayed silent for a moment."Be glad I like you as much as I do. I'm gonna sit here, and I'm gonna be willing to listen to you, if you're willing to talk about...whatever that was, and what's up with it. Okay?".

Vinoja nodded."What was the question, again?" He wanted to hear Sara say it again, and she knew that.

"Vinoja, you're seriously in love with John. And you've been together for a long time, now. I asked why you haven't married him, yet" Sara reminded.

Vinoja sniffed."You think I don't wanna marry him?" He joked, forcing out a chuckle."I do, Sara. More than anything else" Vinoja admitted, running a hand through his hair again.

Sara was definitely confused now."So why don't you?" She pondered.

Vinoja took a deep breath, spinning the silver ring on his right ring finger with his thumb. He paused for a moment to stare at the 'D.B.' engraved on it, before answering her again."I don't know. I mean, I know, but I also...I dunno, it's so weird even I can't process it. And I'm an Archangel, Sara, I know practically everything". Vinoja's eyes darted around the room as he thought of how to put this."I mean, I love John, I love him so much. But that's a fucking given".

"Oh, no shit".

"But he has these major commitment issues, y'know? I mean, not major enough for him to not date anyone, because, uh, hello, he's dating me. But major enough for him to not ever see himself get married, maybe become John Sallinger, or- or John Constantine-Sallinger".

"But you're you, Vinoja. Who wouldn't wanna drop everything to marry you, man? That's kinda stupid".

Vinoja let out a sad chuckle."Yea, well...He's John Constantine, he does stupid in spades" he quoted what John once told him, shortly after when they first met."John's just not ready for marriage".

"You say that like he ever will be." Sara broke it to him, tilting her head up.

"Gives me a sense of false hope" Vinoja mumbled, clasping his hands together."I just- I love him, y'know? And he loves me, I know that. I love him so, so much, Sara. So much that I'm willing to wait for him".

"And you'll keep waiting 'till the day John dies" Sara pointed out."Isn't the point of relationships to get married, or something? If not, you're just setting yourself up for heartbreak" she referenced a tweet she once saw.

Vinoja hummed in an unclear way."There's many other reasons for a relationship. Rebounds, distractions, need of affection, or you're just fine with being together, marriage or not. Besides, Sara, I'm an Archangel. I've been loving men since cavemen. Surely I'm used to heartbreak by now, in every form possible".

Sara groaned, trailing her hand up to Vinoja's shoulder and giving it a quick squeeze; which was hard, Vinoja's shoulders are broad and her hands are small."Yea, but there's something different about John to you".

"What? 'He's not like other boys'?" Vinoja grinned.

"Shut up," Sara laughed, "you know that's not what I meant". She pursed her lips, inspecting Vinoja. 

He wouldn't even look at her, and that grin disappeared quick.

"When you talk about John, you get this...look in your eyes. Different from the ones you've had when talking about your past guys, like- like, uh...Oscar Wilde, or James Dean. Leonardo Da Vinci, that Lafayette guy from the American Revolutionary War. Hell, you don't have that light in your eyes when talking about David Bowie, or- or even yourself Vin. You only get that spark in your eyes when you talk about John, when someone mentions John, when looking at John, and only John. You're in some whole other kind of love with John, man".

"Yea, and?".

"And you wanna marry him so bad, duh".

"Well, no shit, Sara. But I love him enough to respect the fact that he isn't into marriage".

"And?".

Vinoja looked over at Sara, through his brown curls that fell over his eyes. He whined when he turned away, leaning forward."And that he never will be.”

"And it's tearing you apart!" Sara threw her hands up, eyes going wide and eyebrows raising again."Vinoja, you can't seriously be okay with just dating John forever, can you? I'm glad you consent to how he feels, but this just..." she sighs, shoulders drooping."This just sucks".

"Now you get it".

Sara poked the inside of her cheek with her tongue."So that's it?".

"What?".

"You're sooo in love with John, that you'll succumb to the part of his commitment issues that lets him be in serious relationships, but also to the part that doesn't want anything to do with marriage? Despite how much you wanna marry him, it's his issues over your wants and needs?".

"I mean...yea, I guess. If being his boyfriend is the closest I'll ever get, Sara, I'll take it. If my kids have to call him 'dad's boyfriend' or 'Mr. dad's boyfriend' for the rest of the time we're together for, so be it. It's one relationship, Sara" Vinoja concluded.

"One relationship that means more to you than your Blade!" Sara rebuked."He doesn't want what you want, and I admire that you respect it, but jeez, it's a stupidass decision".

"I know, I know, I'm just...I'm afraid of ending things with John over something as small to an immortal as marriage, y'know?" Vinoja whispered, hands gripping at his hair."You could say loving him is a losing game, huh? And I'm fucking addicted to it".

Sara huffed, giving Vinoja one last look. She stood up "listen, Vin. You just...think it through, what you want. What you want out of this relationship with John, whether you wanna use all your quarters on it or whatever".

"I don't know what I want, Sara! My mind turns into some weird labyrinth each time I think about John 'n' me and marriage" Vinoja cut her off.

"All I'm saying is that if you walked into this relationship, head-over-heels but knowing you could never marry him? Then all I know is you two have always been a losing game, Vin" Sara put her hands up."For an immortal such as yourself, you should know know that giving this up won't take a lot". 

Vinoja squeezed his eyes shut, head hanging."Maybe I walked into dating John, knowing I could never marry him, it was like seeing the end before it even fucking began. Still, you see me carrying on with us, don't you? I'm still here, dating John, still so in love with him that I stay up at night, thinking about him. That I write award-winning albums worth of songs about him. I'll love him until I somehow stop, or until he stops and he breaks up with me, or until he dies. Marriage or not, I'm staying with him. And- And I love him. And you're right, he is different from any other man I've been with. So different that long after he's gone, I'll find myself lying awake at night, still thinking about him. I'll find myself wishing I could have married him, so that he wasn't just some lost cause of a boyfriend I couldn't make my husband".

"Vinoja-".

"But, even for an Archangel, we can't always get what we want. I'll find myself wishing everything that has ever happened to John, never happened to him so that I could have married him, and officially made him mine" Vinoja looked up at Sara, eyes sparkling with the threat of tears."I love him so much that I'm willing to wait for something that'll- that'll never fucking happen, Sara, I know. Shame on me for never learning from all my experience, I guess. That's on me. Consider yourself happy if John ever does fucking break up with me, leaving me to find a guy to actually marry. Maybe I'll finally learn some shit".

Sara stared at Vinoja, the silence being borderline deafening. She blinked, "you're unbelievable, Vin. You're also practically wasting your time, if you love him but you can't get what you want. John won't magically wake up one day and erase his commitment issues just like that-" Sara snapped her fingers "-no matter how bad you want him to, and I know you, I know that deep, deep down, you secretly want him to".

Vinoja gulped thickly. He abruptly looked down, at his bare ring finger on his left hand.

"Quit your game, Vinoja. Before you hurt yourself even more". Sara promptly turned around, and walked out the room.

She turned down the hall, and jumped when she saw John, who had his back against the wall, clear that he had been listening in on their conversation.

"Jesus-" she whispered, clutching her chest. Sara kept eye contact with John, before shaking her head and walking past him, not saying a word.

John watched her go, not doing anything to stop her. Once she was out of sight, John stepped closer to the doorway. Slow as can be, he poked his head around to look inside.

Vinoja's chest fell as he exhaled, vision going down to the floorboards. 

John bit the edge of his lip, his eyes gaining a certain softness as he watched Vinoja. He quickly pulled back into the hallway, back flat against the wall like how Sara found him. John looked up at the roof, silently sighing as his eyes fell closed.

[codyfernmorelikedaddyfern]

My Much Better half - Duncan x fem!reader // Part Two

Suggested by @langdxn​ and i’m too weak to resist... Yes, there will be a part three. Yes, I have no will power. Read part one here.

Description: After proposing to you in Paris, Duncan looked over you during wild ride that is pregnancy and childbirth.

Warnings:  I mean, you’re here for the fluff, right? dad!Duncan, brief mention of sex (to be expected when i’m the one writing), childbirth. This loosely follows the events of HoC but not in the same order. I didn’t reread this fully so apologies, English isn't my first language.

“Okay, Miss Y/L/N, the gel will be cold” the young nurse announced before squirting some of the material of your already blooming womb. “Before we start, I would need to know if you will be interested in knowing what you are expecting” her face turned to look at you, then fell to yours and Duncan’s hand tightly entwined.

Your gaze fell into your fiancé, raising an eyebrow. “I would like to, yes, would you?” you enquired, watching him eagerly nod. “Yes, please, that would be great” his smile grew wide before dying on your knuckles, the gentle ring sitting on your finger tickling his stubble.

 “Alright, here we go” the nurse pushed the ultrasound device against your belly. This was your second scan and you could not be more excited to see the affectionately nicknamed Peanut. Names had been discussed already and Duncan had a lengthy discussion with your boss in order to relocate your own working desk to his office so he could keep an ever-growing protective eye on you.

Glowing and radiating, pregnancy seemed to look like the decision you had ever done despite the lack of sleep and morning sickness and the brunette would never fail to mention just how beautiful you looked. So beautiful in fact that it became the worst distraction possible.

But he loved every single bit of it, even when he was finding you crying in the kitchen at 2 in the morning because you craved a bowl of pasta but the water was taking too long to boil, not aware you had forgotten to turn on the induction beneath the pot.

 Besides your breath taking radiance, the thing he enjoyed the most was your sex drive, now higher than his. You had been expecting for 20 weeks and he had already lost count on how many nights he was the one whimpering and aching out of bed, practically begging for a break.

His hand tightened around yours as the nurse turned the monitor towards the both of you. You could already feel his subtle tremor, becoming less able to hide his obvious emotion. “It looks like baby is being a bit fussy” the lady laughed, unable to get a clear image of the small being growing in your stomach. “Come on, Peanut” Duncan teased, gently poking at the bump to try and get the tiny figure to shift around, earning a giggle from you as well as the operator. Twisting around in the funniest dance, your child seemed to be drawn to the voice of their father.

 “Whoop, let’s skip this for the end, shall we” she quickly skipped what looked like the small pair of legs. Tightening even further against your fingers, you felt your fiancé’s lips tightly pressing on the back of your hand. The operator started to measure the spine and legs of your little peanut, explaining what was yet to come for the next couple of months before the next scan you would assist. She asked a few questions about your own health, advising for you to avoid stressful situations as much as possible.

Warm tears laced between your fingers while you felt a small sob escape your lover while some prickled your eyes too as Duncan intently watched the black and white imagery unfolding on the screen, absolutely mesmerised. “Let’s check on baby’s heart beat and then find out what you are having” she rejoiced, placing the Doppler on your stomach.

 Slowly, the harmonious and regular heartbeat of what you had both created quickly filling up the room. Pushing his brow and wet eyes in your palms, your fiancé quietly wept his happiest tears in your hands. “And by the looks of things, you are expecting a girl” the nurse announced gleefully, pushing a new sob out of your chest before Duncan wrapped his fingers around your face, cupping it to push a tender and loving kiss on your lips.

Before you, he was always self-assured and controlling of the minutest things. He would not allow himself to show his stress, frustration or tears but you broke the carapace. His feelings seeped out in existence, helping him grow his mother’s legacy much faster than before because he was now showing to the world that he cared.

 It took him a while to pull himself together, getting his puffy cheeks to flatten again and his red eyes to dim. As you both made your way out of the nurse’s office, hand in hand, you exchanged a loving look. “You’re going to outnumber me shortly, darling” he joked, the idea of having another woman ruling over his life filling his thoughts and clouding his mind. “At least we won’t need to look for a flower girl anymore” you continued, a small chuckle leaving his lips. “Should we wait for her to walk to get married?” his voice asked as you found yourself by the car. His fingers looped around your car door to open it and let you climb in it. He quickly darted around the car, taking the driver seat.

The pregnancy had pushed him to stop relying on cabs and tinted SUVs and to purchase a car big enough to fit your dreams of a large family. “Honey, I want you to be aware that we’re going to keep on going until we make a boy” he joked while slowly reversing the car once you had both buckled up your seat belts. “I read in an article that hormones released by a female orgasm helps conceiving a boy so you know what to do next time” you bit back, side eyeing Duncan, waiting for a reaction.

 He looked back at you with a shocked expression, a blabbering mess escaping his lips as he could not find a comeback. “I’m obvious joking, honey” you laughed as he drove down the busy streets of DC. As you stepped in your apartment, you took back your usual routine and slumped on the couch after changing into the most comfortable closes you could gather from both your man and your own closet. He poured himself a cup of coffee, slinking back next to you and caressing your ankles. Once he would be done with his brew, his other hand would rest on your belly.

Whenever you would lie down was some of his favourite moments because that’s when the bump really showed. He would coo and talk to your unborn child, sometimes humming and singing to her. The amount of loved he poured over you was sometimes overwhelming and the idyllic situation sometimes broke into meaningless fights quickly cut short by the overflowing hormones spilling out of your eyes.

 Arguments would always end in the both of you cooped up underneath the comforter, sticky from the sweat and seed of the love you had just made. He worshipped you, more careful and delicate than ever.

Any appearance you would both make would be short and effective. Duncan and you developed some sort of 6th sense, scenting when the other needed saving whether it was him lost in the most boring conversation or you getting hammered with elderly women trying to stroke your blossoming bump and hammering you with old wives tales.

 Time flies when you have fun and how much fun was it to see Duncan falling in love with the burgeoning life in your womb. He would always apologies for the stress he exuded but he would also remind you how thankful he was for you to have entered his life. He would thank Charlotte, the name you had settled on for your quickly approaching bundle of joy, for keeping him in line.

Scandal imploded in the Shepherd’s family as you entered your last trimester. Your lover’s uncle, Bill, passed away and he nearly escaped being jailed after launching an app that was unknowingly too invasive.

 It was a warm autumn day when Duncan burst through the door of the flat, a loud sob escaping his chest as his eyes darted around to find you. Struggling to hoist yourself up from the couch due to your nearly full term belly, you turned to him.

Desperation and anger clouded his eyes, his eyebrows pulled together in a heart-breaking expression.

 “Did you know? He whimpered through the tears, did you know about my birth mother?

-W-What? What’s happening, you worried, waddling your way to him.

-Annette is not my mother, did you know?! His voice was harsh and full of disgust.

-No, I-I didn’t know, no, what’s going on, Duncan?

-She’s lied to me my whole life. That’s what’s going on.

-Duncan, please! Her voice rang at the door.”

A sting of confusion ensued in front of you. An intense pulling took you aback as you felt the muscle around your stomach contract. You had been sporadically been experiencing the feeling of what you assumed were your first signs of contractions. You gasped as discreetly as possible while reaching back for the couch. Your fingers tightly clutched at the material as you made your way back around it to sit down while the uncomfortable sensation subsided.

The argument carried on in a blur behind you as another pull tugged around your baby. Faintly turning around to see your fiancé, the veins in his neck bulging in anger while his features reddened. If you had not been feeling this uncomfortable pain, you would be finding yourself getting turned on but this was no time for arousal.

Your trembling voice broke the feud. “Dunc-, I need you to help me to the bathroom”. You were sure to have whispered the words but when the worried look wrapped around both Annette and his son, you understood you had been loud enough.

 Nearly sprinting from the other side of the apartment to you, the toned arms of your fiancé helped you up from the sofa. You had never seen your mother in law run but when she noticed the struggle you had to walk, she launched to hold the other side of your figure. Taking small and slow steps, they gently guided you. You had only reached the middle of the living room when you found yourself stopping your steps.

Annette’s eyes widen in shock as she noticed the trail of liquid following your steps. When your feet stopped, a large gush pooled between your legs. Looking up for help, Duncan met his mother’s expression. Panic grew in his chest as your fingers curled around his shoulder. This contraction was stronger than the other ones you experienced.

“Duncan, her water is breaking. Take her to the bathroom, I’ll call the midwife”. A soft groan escaped your lips as the pain quickened. Your mother in law’s arms left your side while your fiancé pulled you to the bathroom. He slinked the pair of pyjama shorts you had been lounging on and helped you sit on the toilet while Annette dialled the number of the hospital.

 A string of profanity escaped the brunette as he watched the liquid trickling out of you. Physically slapping some sense into him by pulling him down to your face. “I don’t need this right now, I need you to calm down” you whimpered through your teeth, yanking him closer to lay your head on his shoulder.

His breathing was ecstatic, unsure whether to cry or panic on what might be your little Lottie’s birthday. He shook his head, decided on neither solutions. Duncan’s arms wrapped around your waist as he tried to help you sway. Annette came to the door way “Sweetheart, we need to get you to the hospital, tell me where your bag is? I’ll jump in a cab to follow you”. “No, you’re coming in the car with us” her adoptive son said, stern and informative. “I’ll need you with us” he finished.

Your body relaxed as the pain left your stomach. “I’m sure I can just get a painkiller and it’ll be fine, we don’t need to go now” you whispered, obviously not thinking straight about the situation unfolding before you.

A gentle scoff escaped Duncan as her helped you up, wrapping a towel around your waist. “No chance for that, Y/N” he replied. The adrenaline kicked in his body and he pulled you up in his arms, carrying you to the underground parking and strapping you in the car before instructing his mother on where you had left your hospital bag.

You slurred delirious remarks on the ride to the hospital, keeping the tension cooler than it previously was and earning muffled laughs from both people with you in the car. Your groans of pain became louder and more regular. You were sure the hospital was a short distance from your apartment yet somehow it felt like you were in this car for hours. In a silent coordination, Annette was dropped at the entrance of the maternity ward where she fetched some help while Duncan tried his best to park in his panicky state.

 Your mother in law quickly rushed to the car with a midwife pushing a wheelchair while the father to be came to the other side, opening your door and shushing your worries with encouraging words. Once again, he pulled you up against his chest and gingerly sat you on the wheelchair. “I will push her” he told the midwife before she even had a chance to get a hold on the handles.

Travelling through the winding halls, you quickly were installed in the triage room. Large elastic bands were strapped around your stomach to monitor your contractions as well as the baby’s heartbeat. Holding your hand and refusing to get further than 5ft away from you, your fiancé remained by your side. “We’re about to have our baby, honey” he hushed when the panic cooled down from his bloodstream. “Our little princess is on her way” his voice praised as he looked at your bump. His lips on the stretched skin of your stomach, whispering encouraging words about how strong you were and how great you were doing.

 Clad in a white coat, the familiar OBGYN walked in the room, seemingly as happy as the soon to be father was. “Mr. and Mrs. Shepherd!” she rejoiced, looking down on the clip board she held. “Not quite, but I appreciate the sentiment” you giggled, feeling absolutely fine now that you were not having a contraction. She quickly examined you, a nervous look split across Duncan’s face as his eyes were planted on you. “Looks like you are having this baby today, you are already dilated at a 6” she informed you, your heartbeat quickened.

“We’re going to move you into a labour and delivery room and wait a couple of hours to see how you’re progressing but this could take between 6 to 12 hours” she finished, giving the both of you an hopeful look. You shyly nodded as she exited the room. Your lover’s hand kissed the top of your hand before dropping against your lips. “I have no idea what she just said but you look excited so I take it as a good sign” he confessed before giggling.

 The transfer to the much more comfortable room was definitely an upgrade even if you had to receive the IV and wear the extremely glamorous hospital socks and gown. You had been in the room for about 25 minutes when the worst contraction yet tore through your stomach. Begging Duncan to call the nurse, he frantically pressed on the button.

“How can I help? A voiced came through the tiny phone like handle your partner held.

-Hi! This is Duncan Shepherd, my fiancé is in a lot of pain and she asked for a nurse?

-We’ll send your midwife over right away, sir.”

 Another excruciating long wait subsided while the pain picked up. “Y/N? How can I held?” the gentle voice of the midwife rang in your ears. “I want all the pain killers please” you begged, desperate for the pain to stop. “Alright, I’m going to pump some in your IV which will help ease the contractions and then we’ll see if we can administer the epidural”. You nodded eagerly as the nurse reached underneath the gown to check you once more.

“It might be too late for the epidural, you’re at 8. We’re going to start practice pushes to help you prepare, okay?” she broke the news, getting Duncan to gasp. He striped his warm coat off of him and rolled his sleeves, settling by your side. Lacing your fingers with his, you whispered to him how much you loved him, quickly earning soft kisses as he reciprocated your words.

 “More than yesterday but much less than tomorrow” he hushes against your lips. The practice pushes freed something into you. The pain was now put to use. Your partner held your hands, holding your close. The nurse instructed you to stop pushing slowly realising you had been at it for hours. Resting your head on the broad shoulder of your man, you took deep breathes while the midwife gave you helpful advise on how to deal with the pain.

The frame of your OBGYN came into your clouded view. She did not even need to check your dilatation when she took the place of the midwife that had been giving your directions. “I can already see a lot of hair” the doctor announced while slipping a pair of latex gloves.

 Whimpering softly as the pain regained your body, informing your doctor that you felt the urge to keep on pushing. The midwife stood in front of Duncan, inviting him to be as helpful and present as he wished to. “Hold on just for a moment, Y/N, we’re going to start pushing really soon”. You nodded while the bed shifted underneath you, holding you in a more seated position. “I would like to catch her if that is possible” you heard your fiancé ask as the OB set up her tools, reassuring him that it would not pose any problems to do so. His eyes were wet already and when the doctor invited him to peak at the head of his daughter gently making her way down, a sob shook him. “She has so much hair” he told you, practically jumping up to the ceiling in excitement.

 He had already been feeling like a father from the moment Charlotte has started to move within your tummy but more than ever now, he was ready to push a step further in actual fatherhood. Being attentive like a schoolboy, he hooked his arm under your knee and pulled it towards you as you started to push, your fingers coiled around the metal bars of the medical bed. He mirrored the midwife on the other side, guiding you and whispering encouraging words to your ears.

How proud he was to see you thrive and glow, fulfilling the secret dream you had both harvested as the years passed. You made him the man he was today and you were changing him into a husband but today, you were making him a father. A desperate kiss pushed against your forehead, mixing his tears with the numerous beads of sweat covering your body with a dewy sheen.

 It only took a couple of pushes for the doctor to invite him over. She was close enough now for him to catch her. As he looked over, the tears that had dried on his face streamed again. “She is so beautiful!” he exhaled in a beautiful coordination or your push and the doctor guiding him. “Y/N, you’re going to have a baby in the next push” the doctor smiled. The midwife looked at the OB. “Mr. Shepherd, get ready to catch your daughter” she smiled, giving a nod to the assistance next to you who invited you to press a new push.

Duncan gently wrapped his hands around your infant and, following the guidance of the medical help around gently laid her on your chest, rendering the both of you two sobbing messes, congratulations and compliments getting lost in the blur of your overwhelming happiness.

 You gently stroked the small cheeks of the new born who released her first cry causing your to intensify as you wrapped your arms around her tiny body. Love. A burning love. That’s what this new feeling was. The only other being you would allow yourself to love beyond measures after Duncan and as you looked up to him to welcome his lips against yours, you were not sure which one of the two you adored more. After the father cut the cord, the tiny figure was whisked away for her first clean up, her dad quickly following her. He did not want to spend any time away from her and, as she opened her eyes, two bright pools of sky blue, he prayed to god she would need him as much as he needed her.

Her small cries stopped after being swaddled, the afterbirth being the weirdest part of the process. You couldn’t care less as you held the small frame of your daughter as she looked up at you. You planted small kisses on her puffy cheeks and her soft forehead. You admired her soft features, a beautiful mix between Duncan’s and your own even you could definitely see the uncanny resemblance with her father. You lost track of time and before you knew it, your fiancé was sitting next to you, drinking in the tiny huffs and puffs of the new born in your arms. No one else remained in the room.

Shedding his heavy sweater and unbuttoning his shirt, you passed the small bundle to your soon to be husband who gently undid the swaddle, revealing her microscopic diaper and he comfortably laid Charlotte on his chest before wrapping his opened shirt against her small frame.

 Gently slipping out of consciousness, you sighed happily. “I wouldn’t have hoped to build a family with anyone else but you” you whispered at the sight of the skin to skin session taking place next to you. “I love you so so much” you finish as you softly drifted to sleep, exhausted from the draining efforts that had transpired. Not much in this world could make you happier than your much better half.

[mira-shard]

Marina Willow Profile

I had to use this once I saw @hogwartsmysterystory AMAZING template!

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IDENTITY

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Name: Marina Madeline Willow 

Gender: Female

Age: 15 (In most of my works)

Birth Date: 2/2/1973

Species: Human

Blood Status: Half-Blood (Father is a pure-blood, the mother is a Half-blood)

Sexuality: Bisexual

Alignment: Chaotic neutral

Ethnicity: Caucasian

Nationality: British

Residence: Willow Manor

Myer Briggs Personality Type: ENTP

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THE MAGE

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1st Wand: Acacia wand, 12 inches, unicorn hair core

Acacia wood:

A very unusual wand wood, which is found creates tricky wands that often refuse to produce magic for any but their owner, and also withhold their best effects from all but those most gifted. This sensitivity renders them difficult to place, and Ollivanders keeps only a small stock for those witches or wizards of sufficient subtlety, for acacia is not suited to what is commonly known as ‘bangs-and-smells’ magic. When well-matched, an acacia wand matches any for power, though it is often underrated due to the peculiarity of its temperament.

Unicorn hair core:

Unicorn hair generally produces the most consistent magic, and is least subject to fluctuations and blockages. Wands with unicorn cores are generally the most difficult to turn to the Dark Arts. They are the most faithful of all wands, and usually remain strongly attached to their first owner, irrespective of whether he or she was an accomplished witch or wizard.

Minor disadvantages of unicorn hair are that they do not make the most powerful wands (although the wand wood may compensate) and that they are prone to melancholy if seriously mishandled, meaning that the hair may ‘die’ and need replacing.

2nd Wand: 11-and-a-quarte inches, ebony wood, Hippogriff and Fwooper feather

Ebony wood:

This jet-black wand wood has an impressive appearance and reputation, being highly suited to all manner of combative magic, and to Transfiguration. Ebony is happiest in the hand of those with the courage to be themselves. Frequently non-conformist, highly individual or comfortable with the status of outsider, ebony wand owners have been found both among the ranks of the Order of the Phoenix and among the Death Eaters. In my experience the ebony wand’s perfect match is one who will hold fast to his or her beliefs, no matter what the external pressure, and will not be swayed lightly from their purpose.

Fwooper feather:

Fwooper feather wands are said to be a mark of ill omen for the wizards they bond to, as, like the birds they come from, they are rumored to slowly drive their wielder mad. Despite their poor reputation, they do well with Charms and Care of Magical Creatures. However, they have a near-inability to cast Quietus. They are commonly combined with another feather core, such as the phoenix for health or the hippogriff for stability.

Hippogriff feather:

Hippogriffs are noble animals with a reputation for not taking a slight. These wands require constant respect, and if the wielder does not give it, they can watch its formerly stable and versatile magic backfire on it. It is not the strongest core, but it is one of the most adaptable. These wands are most common amongst Gryffindors, but they are rare overall.

Animagus: Jaguar

Misc Magical Abilities: Legilimens

Boggart Form: A younger version of herself and her brother, clinging to each other in fear while a threathening shadow is towering above them. 

Boggart meaning: A simple moment that makes her remember all the times Marina and her brother spent together, unable to trust anything in their own home, their own parents included.

Riddikulus Form: The shadow turns out to be their mother, who casts spells that create butterflies and other pretty things, leaving the siblings in awe.

Amortentia, what she smells like: Sea salt and lavender.

Amortentia, what she smells: Butterbeer, a smoldering fire and cinnamon.

Patronus: Jaguar

Patronus Memory: Besting the ice vault with her friends, being one step closer to her reunion with her brother.

Mirror of Erised: Her brother and her playing at the cliff sides near the manor, while their mother watches over them with a smile. 

Specialized/Favourite Spells: Musicis Ludere (A spell that allows instruments to play whatever song the caster was thinking of without a musician) is her favourite spell in general. Her favourite combat spell is Bombarda.

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APPEARANCE

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Faceclaim: None.

Game Appearance: 

Voice claim: Morgan Berry

Height: 173 cm

Weight: 58 kg

Eye Colour: Greyish green

Hair Colour: Brown, dyed purple passed her shoulders.

Skin Tone: Pale

Scarring: Scar on her left cheek from the fight with the ice knight in her fifth year and a burn mark on her back from the dragon in the portrait vault.

Inventory: Pet food, lots of empty notebooks, stuffed kneazel, at least 1 sweater, a walkman, a beanie and reading books.

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ALLEGIANCES 

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Hogwarts House: Slytherin

Ilvermorny House: She would have been a Pukwudgie

Affiliations/Organizations: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of the Phoenix.

Professions: Cursebreaker at Gringotts, helper at the Willow home-away-from-home, her brother’s business.

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HOGWARTS INFORMATION

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Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy: Outstanding

Charms: Exceeds Expectations

DADA: Outstanding

Flying: Exceeds Expectations

Herbology: Dreadful

History of Magic: Acceptable

Potions: Exceeds Expectations

Transfiguration: Exceeds Expectations

Electives: 

Care of Magical creatures: Acceptable

Divination: Exceeds Expectations

Extra-Curricular: Slytherin beater and prefect.

Favourite Professors: Professor Kettleburn. She adores his passion for his subject and can see herself in his recklessness when it comes to dealing with said passions. He might be a tad crazy but she enjoys talking to him and can often get away with misbehaving in his class.

Least Favourite Professors: Professor Snape. Marina enjoys challenging authority figures and has a strong sense of personal justice that sometimes goes against Hogwarts rules which rubs Snape the wrong way. She has gained some respect for him when she learned he distrusts Rakepick as well. To quote her exact words, "Well, turns out Snape is less of Dumbledore's bootlicker than we thought."

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RELATIONSHIPS

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Brother: Acacius "Jacob" Willow.

Marina and Acacius have a very loving and protective relationship. Being born with a neglectant mother and an abusive father, the two learned to rely on each other at a very young age. When Acacius started studying at Hogwarts, he made sure to teach Marina everything he learned during the holidays and the summer.

Much like his younger sister, Acacius is not one to look away from injustice, having to watch his family suffer from his own father’s cruelty for so long. Thanks to the support of Duncan Ashe and Olivia Green, he learned how to stand up to his father and how to quietly rebel against other sorts of authority figures, something he passed onto Marina.

Acacius tends to say ‘fuck it,’ when someone talks shit about his family or muggleborns and just fight them the muggle way. He finds it a good way to get his aggression out but it got him into loads of trouble and a reputation as a delinquent at Hogwarts. It was one of the few things he didn’t pass onto his baby sister.

Father: Emeric Lorenzo Willow

Emeric is a faithful follower of Voldemort, his ambition of furthering his family legacy based on power instead of blood purity being the only thing more powerful.

He married Marina’s mother merely for the natural born skill of legilemncy that ran trough her family, hoping it would pass onto their childeren. As far as most of the wizarding world knows, this marriage nor the childeren it produced exists. Emeric has another family elsewhere to keep up his reputation as a powerful and clean man. 

He controlled his hidden family with fear and his connections, making a show of torturing aurors during Voldemort’s reign and forcing his childeren to watch. 

The abuse was never physhical but mental torture, as a punishment for Acaius and Marina for not having legillmens abilities as far as he knows.

Mother: Abigail Kowalski-Willow.

Abigail is a witch who was born and raised in America and transferred to Hogwarts after an experiment gone wrong and got her expelled from Ilvermorny. 

A naïve yet determinded soul who enjoyed using her legilemens abilities whenever possible, but her ambitions got her into huge financial debt after graduating from Hogwarts.

Enamored with Emeric’s affections and interested in his wealth, she agreed to marry him after a few months of flirting.

When Acacius hid his talent from Emeric, the wizard took his frustrations out on Abigail, torturing her with the cruciatus curse. By the time Marina was born, their mother had passed the brink of insanity. Neither of the kids truly got to know their mother and never learned they got their curiosity and determination from her.

Other Siblings: To be Revealed :3

Love Interest: 

Canon love interest: Jae Kim

The two of them had met during detention and connected by making fun of professor Snape. When the two gradually started hanging out more often they bonded further about their authority defying traits and humor.

The two had been flirting quite often, sometimes even kissing one another on the cheek or forehead, or cuddling in one of their common rooms, but they both played it off on them just joking around,afraid of rejection from the other.

It wasn’t until the Circle of Khanna was estabalished when Jae decided to act on his feelings, but Marina was sadly emotionally unavailable. However, once she worked trough her grief and finished the quest for the vaults, they began a relationship in their seventh year.

Friends with Benefits: Marina and Merula had an agreement that lasted from their sixth year until the first half of their seventh year. Eventually Merula broke things off cause she knew the relationship wouldn’t go anywhere and they parted ways. Marina rediscovered her feelings for Jae Kim a few months later.

MC love interests:

Molly darling ( @mollydarling-hphm ) :

Marina is ride or die for her girl, simple as that. You have a problem with Molly? Marina would like to know your location. They’re the equivelent of “Don’t mess with my badger or you’ll never see the light of day again.”

Best Friends: Rowan Khanna and Ben Copper.

Rival: Merula Snyde and Acacius Willow

-She never truly saw Merula as a rival, more as if they were two sides of the same coin

-Jacob made himself her rival the moment he refused to work together on finding the vaults

Enemy: Rakepick and R

Dormmates: Rowan Khanna, Merula Snyde, Liz Tuttle and Night Rhea ( @nightrhea-hphm )

Pets: Fritzgerald (Her kneazle) and Tiberius (her owl)

Closest Canon Friends: Merula, Rowan and Ben.

Closest MC Friends: Stephanie Alexeev, ( @hanihonii ) Helene Adler ( @heleneplays , Alice Beaumont ( @mizutoyama ), Luna Silvermore ( @lunasilvermore ), Kyril Vasiley ( @kyril-hphm ), Samantha O’Connell ( @samshogwarts ) Feen McKenzie ( @sam-winchester-is-my-bitch​ )

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BACKGROUND/HISTORY

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Born to Emeric and Abigail Willow, the younger sister of Acacius "Jacob."

A sadistic, death eater for a father and a mentally unstable legilimens for a mother. The first part of her life Marina always kept to Acacius and her mother, scared to leave the house and unable to befriend the kids of her father's associates. The few happy moments she had in her early childhood was whenever her father was working or at a meeting and her mother enchanted the music instruments to play her favourite lullaby as she and Acacius danced and chased each other around the ballroom.

The order of the Phoenix managed to capture Emeric Willow before Voldemort’s defeat at the Potter house. By then Acacius had already dissapeared, leaving Marina alone in an empty household. The few house elves that worked there took care of her as Abigail was taken into St. Mungo’s.

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PERSONALITY

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Positive traits: Curious, Determined, Ambitious, quick thinker, understanding and protective.

Negative traits: Cynical, distrusting, rebellious, impulsive, sarcastic, wants to do everything by herself.

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MISC

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-Marina was against going after the cursed vault at first but had a change of heart in her second year when she found a secret attic in the manor filled with Acacius’s stuff.

-She's so busy she often forgets to eat.

-She’s affectionate

[emmyrosee]

duncanxaxelxreader is my favourite thing ever can we please have one where duncan is the good guy 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Anonymous said what happens when axel gets mad? How does Duncan react?🤔

As much as it pains me to make Axel be the bad guy, I will do it. Just for you❤️

Dis got long too

——————

It was an accident. You knew that he knew that. But once it happened, you were paralyzed to the ground, and Axel only followed minutes later.

You’d assumed the car was stable, when you tugged at it on the lift, but everything flashed when it slowly teetered and fell off.

Everything was numb. Silent. Your eyes were screwed shut, and you shook all over.

“What the fresh hell is this!” A loud voice screams, snapping you back to reality. Your eyes slowly peel open to see Axel across the shop, eyes wide with unreadable emotion. You scramble to your feet and dash over to him, but instead of hugging you back so tightly you couldn’t breathe, he just... stared at the damage.

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” Axel says flatly, eyes fixated on the car. You reach out for him, for comfort, but he merely grips your arm before you can make contact.

“Why are you fucking here!”

Your mouth opens to answer, but no words come out. You’re stunned to silence, but that only makes him more furious.

“I tell you to do one thing and one thing only,” Axel growls, his vice grip on your arm somehow tightening. “Stay out of this goddamned garage when I’m not fucking here, yes?”

You nod frantically, and with blazing eyes, he pulls you closer. “And the day I stop telling you, the one goddamn day I forget to tell you to stay away, you break in and everything just crashes down. For God’s sake, you could’ve been fucking killed!”

“Axel please,” you whisper, voice hard to hear. “You’re scaring me.”

Once more, he pulls you closer, nose to nose and forehead to forehead. You’re on your tiptoes at this point, and you’re forced to stare into his eyes.

It’s the first time you’re actually afraid of Axel; it just doesn’t happen.

But this anger he’s in, this absolute rage... it doesn’t happen either

“Good,” he whispers through clenched teeth. He finally flicks you away like you’re cigarette ashes, turning on his heel and leaning on the desk away from you, “go home. Duncan will fix you.”

“Axel, I didn’t-“

“GO!” He roars, spinning around to you. His tattooed arm is extended to a point, and it’s directed at the door.

You squeak in fear before dashing away, rushing to your car and hugging yourself tight. You weren’t sure if you should drive with how skittish you were, but it would be faster and you wanted to be as far and as quickly away from Axel as you could manage.

It only took you about ten minutes to get home, but even as you walked through the door, you were shaking like a leaf.

Duncan turns to look at you, “Hey babydoll, where-“ he stops himself as his eyes settle on you. “What... happened?”

“IwentintoAxel’sgarageandIwantedto-“

“Woah, woah, woah,” he says softly, grabbing your shoulders to steady you. “Easy, baby, easy. Tell me what happened as slowly as you can.” His grip was stern, but much softer than Axel’s, and the assurance in his voice made you finally breathe.

“I went into Axel’s garage early because i wanted to surprise him. And I was poking around and I thought a car was steady, so I pulled on the rear bumper and... it fell off the lift.”

Duncan’s eyes widened, “which side of the garage was it on? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

This is the reaction you’d expect Axel to have. This is slightly new for Duncan.

“I.. fell backwards when trying to avoid the crash, and I messed up my hands pretty bad,” you answer quietly, holding them out. They’d started to scab over, but they still stung like hell.

“Okay, anywhere else?” He asks, releasing his tense shoulders. Tears welled in your eyes again, “and he started to scream at me. Like I’ve never seen anyone so angry in my life,” the tears flowed freely from your eyes, the image of Axel’s wide, raged eyes still bold in your memory.

“I bet he was, baby girl,” Duncan whispers, brushing your hair behind your ear. “But we can deal with him later. For now, I want to clean you up, get you comfortable and relaxed, okay?”

You nod and follow him to the bathroom, where he sits you on the toilet to clean your wounds.

“Being such a good girl for me,” he whispers, still sensing your dazed-out fear. “Letting me clean your hands, yeah?”

He tends to your wounds tentatively, making note of the way you wince in pain. His soft words and praises help relax you, and you feel loved.

Like Axel doesn’t even exist anymore. He’s just a forgotten, dull ache in the back of your head, and it makes you remember why you fell in love with Duncan in the first place.

Duncan swiftly bandaged you up before guiding you out of the bathroom and on the couch, cuddling into you while you nestled into his side. He tucked you under his arm, fingers lightly grazing over the skin of your risen shirt. Overtime, he slowly pulls you down to lay on his lap, and soon after, your breath evens out, the stress of the day and the protective feeling of Duncan lulling you to sleep.

You just pray he’ll be there when you wake up.

[thereluctantherosrose]

Hogwarts Mystery:

Tagged by @slytherin-puffskein sooooooooo long ago and i was working on this and then I TOTALLY forgot about it X”D LMFAO SORRY (This isn’t the greatest XD I may edit later buuuuut whatever I just want to post haha)

Template by @hogwartsmysterystory

Aleksia Liusaidh Aries (the picture but with black hair and braids)

G e n e r a l    I n f o r m a t i o n

 NAME: Aleksia Liusaidh Aries

AGE: 17 years old

GENDER: Female

NICKNAMES: Leksi, Alek, Kitten, Curse-breaker

DATE OF BIRTH: December 10th, 1972

ASTROLOGICAL/ZODIAC SIGN: Sagittarius

ALIGNMENT: Chaotic good

ETHNICITY: Caucasian

NATIONALITY: Euro

SPECIES: Wizard

BLOOD STATUS: Pure Blood

 Main F a m i l y

 FATHER:  William Lee Aries

Pureblood

Black hair, Brown Hazel Eyes

Slytherin

Has one brother and 2 half siblings

Comes from a wealthy and rich family

Met Leanna in a bar in Scotland while on a business trip

Parents approved because of her Pureblood status and beauty, as well the fact that she was slytherin

Married Leanna after she became pregnant with Jacob. 

Suddenly his demeanor changed, and he became very controlling and emotionally abusive.

This eventually lead to more physically abusive behaviour. 

Very close with his family and often has them over

They, like him, are very judgmental and not good people.

They believe that blood must remain pure, and all the others were to be avoided. 

Aries family females have the ability to produce ice glyphs and if powerful enough can summon a ice guardian

He works for the Ministry 

At first was happy with Aleksia, thinking that she could be used to show off. As she got older and became more rebellious, he started to turn his abuse towards her, belittling her and abusing. 

Blamed Leanna when Jacob went missing, which lead to separation

He eventually found a new wife, Emily, who was the perfect wife for him

Had a son 

 MOTHER:  Leanna Mckinley Aries

Pureblood

Brownish-red hair, brown eyes

Slytherin

Grew up in Scotland with 10 other siblings

Was an auror before she married

When she became pregnant with Jacob, is when her and William married.

Began to abused both physically and emotionally when she did not listen to him. To avoid this, she complied with most of what he wanted.

Leanna wasn’t allowed to see her family, being manipulated into thinking that she was unwanted by her own family and that they were her real family

When she became pregnant with Aleksia, she wasn’t happy, knowing that she would have to subject her children to the grasp of William

She saw how Jacob was treated better than Aleksia, but thought she couldn’t do anything about it and thought she would only make it worse

She would be harsh with Aleksia, trying to make her obey her father so that she wouldn’t be hurt by him

Eventually left with Aleksia after Jacob went missing

Became very strict with Aleksia when it came to magic to the point where they often argued

BROTHER: Jacob Aidan Aries

Pureblood

Born in January 14th 

Slytherin

Was spoiled by parents, and was the favourite sibling

Jacob got everything he wanted because he followed everything that his father wanted 

Did what he was told so that he could get what he wanted. He is cunning, and therefore would take advantage of his fathers resources

Hated his father for everything that he was, but never showed it

Vowed one day he would be strong enough to get both Aleksia and him out

When he went to Hogwarts, he befriended Duncan and Olivia Green, and became obsessed with the Cursed Vaults

The Vaults fascinated him, and he thought this as a way to become more powerful that would save both him and his sister

When Duncan was eventually killed, he nearly lost it. He couldn’t believe one of his best friends was dead, and because of him

Rakepick used his need for power to manipulate him into continuing with the vaults until his disappearance

Got scars on his face from his encounter with the dragon

  A f f i l i a t i o n s  //  O r g a n i z a t i o n s

Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Gryffindor

Order of the Phoenix

Aries Family

Mckenna Family

O c c u p a t i o n s

Hogwarts student

Member of the Order of the Phoenix

Writer/ Magizoologist/ Animal Rescue

 M a g i c a l    C h a r a c t e r i s t i c

 FORM OF BOGGART: Her father

WHAT DO THEY SEE IN THE MIRROR OF ERISED: Her surrounded by her friends and everyone is happy and safe

1st WAND: 

Vine Wood

12 ¾ 

Phoenix Core

Pliant Flexibility

2nd WAND:

Ebony wood

13 inches

Phoenix 

 MAIN PET:

 Astra, a white fluffy cat

FORM OF PATRONUS: Husky

PATRONUS MEMORY: 

ANIMAGUS: Golden Retriever 

AMORTENTIA:

What she smells: Fresh laundry and a hint of sandalwood

What she smells to others: Cherry blossoms, chocolate, rain

 A p p e a r a n c e

 Height: 5′3

Weight: 145 Ibs 

Complexion (skin tone/conditions):

       Not completely pale. Can tan

HAIR COLOUR/STYLE:

Long blackish wavy hair

EYE COLOUR: Chocolate brown

 H o g w a r t s    I n f o r m a t i o n

 WORST CLASS(ES)

Herbology: She’s not bad at it, however, she is just not interested in it.She finds it to be one of the more dull subjects.

History of Magic: Again not bad at it, but it’s suppperrrrrr dull. Well apart from when Bins falls asleep. She loves playing exploding snaps.

BEST CLASS(ES)

Care of Magical Creatures. She has always loved animals, sometimes more than actual people. She loves finding out how to take care of the different animals

Flying: she loves being high in the sky on her broom. And showing off. She eventually joins the Gryffindor team as a chaser. 

Study of Ancient Runes. She sees this class as very interesting and sees the runes as works of arts. 

LEAST FAVOURITE TEACHER(S):

Severus Snape. He’s just...mean? She doesn’t hate him but he certainly isn’t her favourite, nor is she his.  

Patricia Rakepick: She hates how much she manipulated both her and Jacob. She distrusted her from the beginning, so it wasn’t much of a shock when she finally betrayed them, however it pissed her off nonetheless. 

FAVOURITE TEACHER(S):

Minerva McGonagall. Finds her to be a motherly figure in which she likes to confide in. She helps her deal with alot of her emotions she tries to hide.

Filius Flitwick: She holds a great amount of respect for him as a dueler. She wants to learn as much as she can from him. 

 CLOSEST HPHM FRIENDS:

Barnaby Lee: Well obviously when they first met it wasn’t so...nice. He threatened to vanish the bones from her body, she challenged him to try like the reckless Gryff she is. However, once Aleksia got to know him, she saw the kindness in his heart and how incredibly sweet he was, which made her eventually fall for him. Aleksia became very protective of him, and ensured that he never felt stupid or unwanted. She knows what it is like to be treated like an idiot, so she makes sure no one treats him that way. 

Merric Nyx and Revena Sevier ( my ocs): Their relationship is siblings. They met back one of the times that Aleksia’s father locked her out of the house, and Merric and Revena made friends with her. She’s very protective of them. 

Penny Haywood: at first she was slightly intimidated by her popularity and thought that she was going to be one of those fake nice people. However, as she got to know Penny she found out that she just was genuinely a nice person. They became very close, and now considers her to one of her best friends. 

Rowan Khanna:  Rowan is Aleksia’s number one supporter since day one. Even though Rowan can be extreme at times, she comes from a place of care. Aleksia considers her to be like another sister and would do anything for her friend. They study alot together and share a similar love for books. 

Talbott Winger: After getting to know Talbott and helping him find his mothers necklace, they found themselves growing close. Sometimes they just enjoy each others company in silence while they read books or just have a conversation about how they want to make the future better. 

CLOSEST MC FRIENDS:

Lau King: @slytherin-puffskein Lau and her may be Gryffindor and Slytherin, but they do share a love of mischief and rebellion, even if Aleksia’s is smaller than his. Aleksia may have wanted to fight Lau once because of cookies but she would do anything to protect the sweet orchid boy. He is deemed as her tol freckled son and she will fight anyone who messes with him. She loves giving him hugs and talking with him because he is such an amazing listener. She has definetely fought people for them saying anything about him being a muggleborn. Felix Rosier and Angelica Cole both love and hate these two before the time they leave Hogwarts. 

Sonia Azur: @onboroo This girl. She thinks she is awesome and totally tries to set her and Merric up. Though at first Sonia’s cool nature may have made her think that she didn’t like her, they slowly warmed up to each other and considers Sonia to be a valuable friend. Between her, Merric, Sonia and Revena, they are kind of a force to be reckoned with.  One of her greatest friends for sure.

Alex Johnson ( @cervo-live-in-arts ): Alex is a sweet boi who she considers to be one of her best friends. She likes how open he is about his feelings and encourages him to do so. She will let him vent to her if he so needs. They also enjoy playing Gobstones together, each trying to distract the hell out of each other. Alex becomes God father to her and Barnaby’s kids. She considers him to be like her little brother and is very protective. Alex may have had to hold Aleksia back from headbutting Merula MANY MANY times. 

David Denneth: @callmederok David may seem a bit tough, but he is still a sweet guy, and Aleksia can see that. She thinks that Penny and him are cute, and tries to set them up, only if with consent. They both share a dislike of Merula, and may have set up a few pranks to get back at her before...NOTHING YOU CAN PROVE!!!!!!!!!!! O_O  

Aisling Baskerville @elefseija Aleksia and Aisling are dorm buddies that’s for sure. Both Gryffs are stubborn to the core and together are a great quidditch chaser duo. Both enjoy talking alot in the dorm rooms to the point poor Rowan will probably end up telling the two to shut the hell up. Poor Rowan...XD ahhaa Aleksia is more outgoing but loves quiet moments so I think they would both enjoy reading together. She like Aisling loves mythology, so she would be soaking up any knowledge Aisling has on anything really. Also don’t touch their cookies or talk about either of their heights. They will collectively murder the hell out of you.

FAVOURITE SPELL(S)

Meteolo jinx 

Melofers Jinx 

Depulso

Incendio

T r i v i a   ( random facts about them, future job, face claim, theme song, etc. ) :

This life is mine is her theme song 

Has and will headbutt anyone who is an idiot to her or her friends.

Headbutt Merula once for calling Ben a Mudblood. Merula was not expecting that at all. Merula will never admit it ever happened.

Is smol but is strong as hell

Sweets may or may not be an addiction. Especially chocolate

Just wants all the hugs. GIVE HER HUGS PLEASE. 

Total nerd

Lily James as Elizabeth Bennet is Faceclaim

If you get close to her, she will consider you to be her child and she will protecc 

She is very reckless

Has headbutt multiple people

VERY STRONG

Has a strong kick

Used to have a toy wolf, but her cousin and father ripped it apart.

For Aleksia’s 15th birthday, Barnaby purchases a plush wolf for her, which she absolutely treasures. She always cuddles with it

Aries family females have the ability to produce ice glyphs and if powerful enough can summon a ice guardian. Aleksia is one of the only Aries females that can conjure one.

Barnaby and Aleksia wait until they are 24 to get married. Their wedding is a sweet wedding with close friends 

When the death eaters were freed, Barnaby and Aleksia moved around quite a bit, knowing that Barnaby’s parents would look for him. 

Aleksia’s cousin, Henry joined the death eaters soon after.

Aleksia and Barnaby were separated after a death eater attack. Aleksia was found by Henry and he used the Cruciatus curse on her. He left her for dead, bloodied and broken. 

She was found by Penny and Rowan, who Barnaby had contacted after the attack. 

Has 3 children with Barnaby, Kieran and Kaia, and their youngest Faye. 

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2010s: 95 - 91

95. Duncan Laurence - “Arcade” the Netherlands 2019

2019 will forever go down as the year where Europe learned all about piano ballads and bisexuality, which we have Duncan to thank for! Inclusive icon <3 And let us be honest, “Arcade” was pretty awesome. It’s a wonderfully immersive moody ballad that connects deeply on a personal level, peppered with instantly memorable gutpunchers (”Loving you is a losing game” is both an amazing line and painfully relatable). Excellent backdrop and camerawork gave the song a vibe of palpable desolation. Major props of this camera shot near the end:

^ this is a moneymaker. Well done, Hans Pancake. 

And the most important thing is, ummm, hello, the Netherlands will host Eurovision 2020, meaning I can attend next year in person without bankrupting myself. 😍 

However, despite the fact that “Arcade” is a pretty great entry overall, it has one GIANT problem: The act is terrible, and I *will* ::cracks knuckles:: proceed to roast the shit out of it. 🤜😤🤛

Now, I understand what Hans was going for his usual tryhard pseudo-cinematic spiel. However, -and independendly from my general distaste for the ‘White Guy With a Piano’ trope (this is 2019 how is anyone still gushing over them like they’re a fucking novelty O__O)-, sitting down is always a losing game. It is a momentum-slayer, and therefore never a good idea. The fact that they kept on tweaking the camera angles during the rehearsals says enough, honestly. The Dutch tried to amend the lack of dynamism with that stupid glowing orb and I mean:

Duncan is actually a fairly attractive dude but that lightning makes him look as if he’s terminally ill. You know when you DON’T get bad lighting angles such as this? When you stand up, like a normal fucking person. 😤

Many others also critically panned that (let’s be honest) ugly-as-sin piano. The Dutch delegation responded with the usual pretentious rubbish:

um sorry wrong shitpost, hang on... ah, found the right one:

and I mean, who the fuck cares? Just because it’s ~vintage~ doesn’t mean it’s not ugly. Just because it’s ~vintage~ doesn’t mean we have to like it? Not  a single casual fan will recognize that piano as a vintage prop, just as an hideous one, WHICH. IT. IS. The pretentious elitism/glaring stupidity behind it all just makes me wanna SPITT!! 😤 Karma quickly caught up with the Dutch arrogance however when their 56% or whatever ridiculous winner odds they had amounted to... Third place with the juries and Second Place with the audience. 😈 and “Soldi” becoming the europe-wide summer hit instead of “Arcade” 😈 In the immortal words of Kim Kardashian, #ItIsWhatSheDeserves. 

________________________________________________________________

94. Lucie Jones - “Never give up on you” United Kingdom 2017

[2017 Review here]

It seems the UK is limited to ONE great entry per decade, but Lucie definitely deserving of love. “Never give up on you” transformed from the most boring song ever into a genuinely gripping support song and well, it’s really great? Lucie is a cherub-voiced seraph who carries this song into the highest powerballad eschelons and that’s no easy feat!

Unfortunately, the UK, like always, fell victim to anti-Brexit sabotage causing them to flop!! 

Damn’ you Remainers, will the bullying EVER END???? and that was the UK,

Honestly, I expected much worse given how blasé the BBC usually is towards Eurovision? It’s really not the fault of their entrants though, who always give their all and get screwed over through circumstance. Yes, “Brexit” is the buzzword being tossed around as a humorous excuse for the non-stop British failures, but let’s be honest we all know it’s just the BBC’s attitude towards ESC. Perhaps the Big 5 should have a Brexit of its own...x

_______________________________________________________________

93. Amir - “J’ai cherché” France 2016

Shock boot? Well, no I think #93 is actually a really good spot for Amir. After booting most glorious trashfests that are bad songs, it becomes time to slowly boot the good songs that aren’t trashy. 😭 

However, I do recognize Amir as a well-deserving ~Legendary~ French entry. It feels like a long time ago, but France was one of the most underperforming countries in Eurovision until Amir strolled along to capture everyone’s hearts with his irresistable magnetism <3 “J’ai cherché” is an infectuously cheerful song, with it’s toe-tapping goodness brightening up my day every time I listen-listen. 

That said, I DO have to put my big boy panties on and make a big boy decision: We’re closely making way towards the god-tier and the further we go, the less “this is a good song and little else” is going to cut it. THANK YOUOUOUOUOUOU FOR MAKING-MAKING FRANCE STRONG AGAIN, THOUGH ^__^

________________________________________________________________

92.  Sunstroke Project - “Hey Mamma” Moldova 2017

[2017 Review here]

GLORIOUS MEMELORDS <3

It came as a surprise at the time, but retroactively we all should’ve seen Sunstroke’s top 3 finish from lightyears away. Other than Olia, “Hey Mamma” has all the ingredients that made “Runaway” good, but improves them. There is EPIC SAX

There is instant hilarity of their trademark non-English (”I AM NOT THAT UNFOUNDED BOY” lmao what???)

There is a ridiculous underlying storyline (song about an angry mother-in-law / pre-marital sex <3)

There are wacky visuals, such as this ICONIC leg choreography

or the JUST AS memorable bridesmaid twist: 

It really just is the old Moldovan adage of transforming nothing into EVERYTHING using a few very clever stage-hacks, but brought to a whole higher level. 😍 Sometimes I wonder whether we are worthy of their presence, but as long as Moldova continue blessing us with their staging magic, Eurovision will be a better place.  

________________________________________________________________

91. Malcolm Lincoln & Manpower 4 - “Siren” Estonia 2010

One of the things that make Estonia my favourite country in Eurovision (as well as a top 5 country in *general*), is that they are MASTERS of the alternative genre. 😍 Eesti Laul is so fun because of... um well, mostly because of all the ridiculously named bands that compete in their NF (Vanilla Ninja <3 Tenfold Rabbit <3 Facelift Deer <3), but also because it’s a place for refuge for indie darlings, quite unlike any other ESC country.

However, “Siren” marks the only time one of said indie darlings actually won Eesti Laul and that makes them very special to me. The song is a beautiful, haunting, touching ethereal soliloquy on how lame life has been and the yearning for the strength to carry on... which, I don’t know about you, but GOSH SO RELATABLE!!! 

Further enhanced by the fact that Robin Jukhental is a lovable dork, hopping around the stage as an avatar of social anxiety, as his second-in-command absolutely WRECKS that piano <3. In other words, the exact type of entry the audience would despise but I am smitten by. ANGELS <3