#he really likes making clement cry

[ahli-stuff]

Guys I’m crying over clement mansell.

[nsharks]

I BEG OF YOU MORE READER WITH SOAP (with months old baby because she gave birth already) , i feel like they would be besties, like ghost is at the back looking like a literal bodyguard while reader and soap are gossiping and cooing at the baby

"uncle johnny"

aka soap and ghost stay at your home for the night. previous dad!ghost here and here

Soap never imagined he’d see the inside of your home again.

Since the incident at the base, Ghost had begrudgingly offered little pieces of information whenever Soap or Gaz pried about it. (Secret’s out of the bag, Soap thought. Might as well.)

You’d had a baby girl.

Your son was off to preschool now.

That’s all Soap knew.

Until a mission nearby at a cargo facility ends with them spotted by cartel (fuck knows how). A barrage of gunfire. A shot tire. They don’t make it very far in the Humvee until they’re debating their options, knowing full well that the base was 40 fucking kilometers away—

“Wait,” Soap pauses, a glint in his eyes. “Don’ you live around here, Lt?”

♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎

It would be silly of Soap to assume your pretty face would be greeting them at the door.

The lights are off, the entire Riley family fast asleep as Ghost finds the hidden spare key to let them in.

“Take your boots off before you’re in,” Ghost whispers harshly, already kicking off his own. He doesn’t seem all too pleased with this idea nor the fact that neither of them had a better one. “Don’t wake them up.”

They line their boots at the door, next to a pair of little purple ones that seem made for a doll in comparison. They shuck off their vests, the gear, all the ammo; carefully set those things in a haphazard pile. Ghost grabs his own gun and then flickers his eyes to Soap.

“Give me it,” he mutters.

While Ghost pads off to some other room, a closet to hide the guns in perhaps, Soap is left standing by the door. In his socks. In the dark of your home.

Noticing the toys and playmat on the floor, he’s wondering about how you manage with two by yourself when the silence is suddenly broken.

Splintered by crying.

Loud enough to carry from your daughter’s nursery.

He closes his eyes. Pinches the bridge of his nose. Maybe it’ll stop before—

Ghost’s heavy footsteps return and he’s glowering at him as if he’s spoiled a mission, gotten someone killed even. In a snarling, hushed voice, “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Fuckin’ hell, Soap. Do you know how to be quiet?”

“Me? You’re the one stompin’ around—“

There’s a flicker of light now from down the hall. Shuffling around in one of the rooms. It causes Ghost to hiss out some more swears and then the rest plays out as a blur in Soap’s eyes. Ghost tries to clemently approach the bedroom, so as to not frighten you, but what he doesn’t know yet is you’ve already grabbed something from under your pillow. You’ve slipped out of the room and the shadow of you raises a defensive arm. Hand tightened around—Soap squints— a bloody knife, is it?

But, then, “Christ, love. It’s just me.”

A wave of relief. Your hand drops.

“Oh my god… Simon.” With a hard swallow, your moment of panic fades and you lurch into Ghost. Can’t help it, really. Even now, with your daughter crying and his bulky uniform smelling like sulfur and kerosene, you embrace him.

Soap tries not to watch from down the hall.

Breathing hard into his chest, “You scared me. Why are you here?”

“Needed a place for the night,” is the explanation he gives. A gloved hand settles just above your bum: bloodied, skeletal digits against a silk nightdress. The other hand— gently taking away that knife of yours. “Didn’t mean to wake you both. It was Johnny’s fault.”

And you’re pulling away from his chest only to furrow your brows. “Johnny?” Glancing around the hall, you finally catch sight of the other uniform-clad intruder in your home.

He gives a small wave

Your tired eyes light up. “Johnny! Oh… forgive me for being rude. I didn’t even see you there.”

“Sorry for wakin’ you,” Soap rubs the back of his neck. (Though, he knows for sure it was Ghost’s fault.)

Soap can’t say he is too sorry you’re awake because you are by far a kinder host than your husband. Even in your groggy state, you usher Soap to clean up in the bathroom with the promise of a comfy bed when he’s done. Then, you’re off to finally comfort the baby. Bouncing her against your chest as you direct your husband on how to fix up the guest room for Soap because you rarely have guests over and—

“Simon, give him some of your clothes to sleep in.”

To Soap’s amusement, Ghost follows your orders without hesitation (though, slips a few incoherent mumbles under his breath).

And although he sees your daughter in your arms, has heard her cries, Soap doesn't truly witness the tenderness of your little family until the morning.

The morning— stretched out on purpose.

Because, as Soap hears Ghost murmur to you, they don't really need to leave right away.

It's a domestic glimpse into the Lieutenant's other life that Soap witnesses. Ghost is already awake when he groggily slips out of the guest room that morning, having just had the best sleep in weeks and dressed in his teammate's clothes that are, perhaps, a little too big for him. He pads down the hallway. There are little coos and small footsteps and Soap realizes it's not just Ghost in the kitchen, but the whole family.

All four of you.

A toddler padding around in a onesie covered in trains (his current fascination).

Your daughter bright-eyed and calm against her unmasked father's chest. Snug in a carrier and visibly content with being attached to him as he makes breakfast.

And then you, given a break for this rare moment, hands slipped around a mug of coffee.

Soap thinks this is the strangest safe house he's woken up in.

Strange, but equally pleasant. Your son is the first one to spot the Sergeant, waddling over to him and tugging on the pair of sweats he's borrowed from your husband. And then you’re the second one, immediately slipping into nurturing hospitality as you usher him to sit down for breakfast.

Any prickliness in his Lieutenant is gone whenever he's interacting with his family. He dotes on you, just like Soap has witnessed before. But for this morning, he also witnesses how he dotes on your children. Offering them patience that Soap is rarely on the receiving end of. He cups your daughter's little head and periodically drops kisses on the top of her hair as he weaves around the kitchen. He merely tuts at your son when he tries bouncing a ball against the cabinets— take that to the living room, kid.

It's such a nice change from their usual blood-soaked routine that even Soap feels the pain of leaving it behind.

But breakfast can only draw out for so long, and soon Ghost is handing the baby back to you.

A quiet, "Do you have to?"

Though, you know that not even nuzzling your face to his neck will change the answer.

The two of them slip into the uniforms they came in. Shuck on the gear, the ammo, their boots (for your husband, a skull mask). You linger around with just your morning robe on, chewing at your lip and cradling your baby tightly as if her little hugs and kisses will be enough to supplement the impending absence of Simon's.

"It was nice to see you again," you're telling Soap when Ghost stalks off to get their guns. Voice soft but with a detectable sorrow in it.

Soap offers you a smile. "Thank you for havin' me in your home." And then, he coos at the baby, "Beautiful lass, you've got. Ghost is a lucky man."

"Would you like to hold her?" Your eyes are beaming at him now, and you shift the infant in your arms and utter to her, "Come on, sweet pea. Say goodbye to Uncle Johnny."

And Soap can't say no to that. Flushing, he takes the little girl from you and holds her, carefully, working around all his gear. He's got nephews and nieces but never has he melted quite like this, staring at an infant who's got the eyes of his Lieutenant and a soft romper on. She feels so delicate in his arms.

This is how Ghost finds you two.

By the front door, Soap holding his daughter and exchanging little murmurs with you.

"I hope Simon isn't mean to you. I know he can be a bit grumpy."

"Eh, he's all bark, no bite. Bit of a softie really, isn't he?"

"He tells me about you more than the others."

"Does he, now?"

A hulking man carrying two rifles stands there, just listening for a moment until you notice him. Irritated, maybe, but it washes away once you are giving him a final hug and peppering sweet kisses over the hard shell of his mask.

Then, a hug to his son (be good to your mum, bug). A nuzzle to his daughter, who Soap carefully hands to him.

"Guess I'm Uncle Johnny now,” the Sergeant comments cheekily after they've left and begun their journey back to base.

But the doting version of his Lieutenant is gone and all he earns is a grunt in response.

[sequinsmile-x]

I Knew You'd Linger Like a Tattoo Kiss - Head Kisses

-x-

A series of unrelated one-shots and mini fics about the many types of kisses Aaron and Emily share.

-x-

Hi friends,

Here's another one of these prompts to wrap up the week. This is just soft, with a touch of mommy issues because I can't help myself.

Please see the masterlist for a full list of tags, and the list of prompts for this series.

-x-

Words: 2k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily tried to avoid one-on-one time with her mother as much as possible. It was easier to do since she’d had Samuel, the 18-month-old and Jack both excellent distractions for Elizabeth when she came over to the house, her love for her grandsons obvious whenever they were together. 

On her worst days, Emily envied her mother's relationship with Samuel and Jack. The easy way she showed her love for them, the affection Emily had to earn when she was young given away as if it was free. It was nothing but proof to her that Elizabeth had always been capable of it, but had prioritised different things when she was young. 

She’d tried to get out of lunch with her mother, not entirely in the mood to be her best self after a rough night with Samuel. He was sick, the 18-month-old refusing to sleep and crying if he was anywhere but in her arms, so she and Aaron had barely slept as they took turns to soothe him. She’d almost called her mom to tell her she couldn’t make it, but Aaron had encouraged her out of the door, reminding her if she didn’t do it now she’d just have to rearrange it after a week of building herself up to it. She’d kissed him goodbye, whilst grumbling about his need to always be so damn sensible, and she’d made her way to her mother’s favourite restaurant. 

The first thing she does when she arrives is order the biggest coffee she can, wanting to make sure she is as alert as she possibly could be. She’s barely sat down for 5 minutes when she hears her mother’s voice echoing around her.

“Emily,” she exclaims, stamping a kiss on each of Emily’s cheeks as she stands to greet her, “It’s good to see you,” she says, frowning as she pulls back, “Are you okay? You look exhausted.” 

She suppresses an eye roll and clenches her teeth, wondering if it is too early to order a glass of wine, “Thanks, Mom,” she says as she takes her seat again, “Sammy is sick so we had a rough night.”

“Oh no,” Elizabeth says as she sits down, “Is he okay?” 

Emily nods, “He’ll be fine, it’s just a bug Jack brought home from school. He’ll be okay in a day or two. He’s all about me when he’s sick though,” she says, unable to pretend she didn’t enjoy all the extra snuggles from her toddler who was seemingly always on the go these days, “So Aaron tried to help but I was up most the night.” 

Elizabeth raises her eyebrows, “Well, if you didn’t coddle him so much he’d manage just fine I’m sure.” 

She sucks in a deep breath and smiles tightly, knowing that the only way to stop herself from biting at the bait offered to her was to change the conversation. “How are you, Mom? How’s work?” 

Her technique works, just as it always did, and she sits back and half listens as Elizabeth talks about work and the embassy. She checks her phone to make sure Aaron hasn’t attempted to contact her, and she smiles at the picture of Samuel and Jack that she has set as her wallpaper, the two of them giggling at something Aaron had said. 

“You’ll never guess who I saw - Steve Clemente.” 

Emily frowns, “Who?” 

Elizabeth rolls her eyes, “Really, Emily. You’ve met the man at my Christmas party the last few years. He’s the President over at Primrose Academy.” 

She hums and nods, “Of course, sorry,” she replies, sipping her coffee, “I remember now.” 

“Well, I was able to get Samuel on the list for their Preschool programme,” she says, opening up her menu, missing the confusion that passes across Emily’s face, “We’re a bit late but this is why it pays to know people.” 

“Sammy is 18 months old.” 

Elizabeth sighs, “It’s like you’re being purposely obtuse today,” she says, shaking her head as she looks back up at her, “I know how old my grandson is, Emily. But the waiting list for these programmes is 2 years. It’s a very prestigious school.” 

Emily presses her lips together and swallows thickly, preparing herself for an argument, “I appreciate the effort, Mom. But we’re not going to be sending him to private school.” 

Elizabeth’s head snaps up, her eyebrows furrowed as she looks at her daughter, “Excuse me?” 

“When the time comes we’re going to send him to the same preschool Jack went to,” she says, looking around for the waiter, the idea of a glass of wine with lunch more appealing than it had ever been, “It’s a great school.” 

Elizabeth sighs, “Emily, Samuel has the benefit of the Prentiss name-”

“He’s a Hotchner,” she corrects, her smile tight as she stares at her mother. 

“What?”

“Sammy. His surname is Hotchner, not Prentiss.” 

“You’re being obtuse again, I know that too. But you seem to be ignoring the benefits your son has purely from who we are.” 

The waiter chooses that moment to walk over, his smile kind as he starts to ask what they want to drink, a question Emily answers before he’s finished asking.

“Wine, please. A large glass.” 

The waiter clears his throat, looking back and forth between the two of them, “Any particular one, ma’am?” 

“Whichever one is closest.” ___

She smiles as she steps into her house, the tension automatically seeping from her shoulders the second the warmth of home washes over her. She hears cartoons coming from the living room and she walks in to find Jack sitting on the couch, his focus on the television. 

“Hey sweetie,” she says as she leans over the back of the couch and kisses the top of his head, “Are you okay?” 

He nods, barely looking away from his favourite show, “Yeah. How was grandma?” 

“She was…” she scrunches her nose up and blows out a breath, “Grandma,” she smiles at him, “Where are Daddy and your brother?” 

“Upstairs,” he replies, “Dad is trying to get Sammy to nap,” he shrugs at her, “It wasn’t going very well.” 

She laughs and leans down to kiss his head again, “I’m going to go see if I can help,” she says, pushing his hair from his forehead, “We’re upstairs if you need us, okay?” 

“Okay, Mom.” 

She heads upstairs and smiles as she steps into the nursery, love spreading through her chest as she’s met with the image of her husband pacing back and forth, their grumpy toddler in his arms. 

“Come on, buddy. You’ll feel better if you nap.”

“No,” Samuel grunts, rubbing his face against Aaron’s chest.

“Daddy’s right,” Emily says from the doorway, both of them looking at her at the same time, matching expressions on their faces, “You’ll feel better if you nap.”

“Mama!” Samuel exclaims, his lower lip pushed out in a pout as he reaches out for her, scrambling in Aaron’s arms. 

“I’ve got you, baby,” she says, lifting him into her arms and kissing the top of his head, “Mama’s got you,” she looks up at her husband, “You’ve been giving Daddy a hard time whilst I’ve been gone?” 

“Only you have the magic touch, it seems,” Aaron says, kissing the top of her head and then her lips as she tilts her head up, “How was lunch?”

She groans and runs her hand up and down Samuel’s back, “It was as expected,” she grumbles, turning her attention back to their son who was already a little calmer, “You want to get some sleep, sweet boy?” 

“Not tired,” he complains, and Aaron hides a smile, a look in his eyes that lets her know exactly what he’s thinking. 

He gets that from you.

“Well, I am,” she says, kissing his head again as she walks towards the loveseat in the corner of the room, “Why don’t we all just sit down for a little while.” 

“‘kay,” he says, pressing his face against her neck as she sits down. She rests her cheek against the top of his head and rubs circles on his back, knowing it is a surefire way to get him to fall asleep. 

Aaron joins them, his arm around her shoulders, and he pulls her closer, “Want to talk about it?” 

She hums, “She mentioned getting Sammy onto a list for a private preschool.” 

Aaron frowns, “He’s 18 months old.” 

She chuckles, “That’s what I said too,” she replies before her smile slips away, “I made it clear that isn’t what we want but…” she blows out a shaky breath, “But then she made it clear she didn’t agree.” 

He tightens his grip on her, his lips against her hairline as he blows out a slow breath, an obvious attempt to keep his cool, “What did she say, sweetheart?” 

“She said I’m risking my kid's futures for the sake of being stubborn.” 

He clenches his teeth and sighs, stamping a kiss against her head before he replies, “That’s not true, Em.” 

“I know,” she sighs, shaking her head a little as she looks down at Samuel, the little boy halfway to sleep already, “At least I think I do,” she looks up at Aaron and offers a half-shrug, “I don’t know. I hated going to private school, and I want something different for the boys. But we could afford it,” she licks her lower lip, “Hell, we could afford to send half a dozen kids to private school all the way through to high school if we want to,” she raises an eyebrow at him when she watches something spark in his eyes, “Down boy,” she jokes and they share a smile, “We could afford it but…that doesn’t mean we should do it, does it?” 

“Of course not, sweetheart,” he says, tucking some of her hair behind her ear, “We know what’s best for our children, not your mother, or an old friend of hers, but us,” he smiles softly, “And if we want to send Sammy and Jack to public school, or all half a dozen of them,” he winks when she rolls her eyes, “Then we will. And we can change our minds in the future if we want to. But you aren’t doing them a disservice or depriving them of something because you want them to have a different experience to you.” 

She nods, leaning forward and pressing her forehead against his shoulder, “I know,” she says, believing this time, and she blows out a slow breath, “I just never felt like I could be myself at those places,” she says, “All that mattered was getting good grades and being the best,” she sighs contentedly when he kisses the top of her head, “I never want the boys to think that’s all they are good for.” 

“They won’t,” he assures her, kissing her head one more time before he encourages her to look up at him, “You’re an excellent mom, Em,” he says, his smile growing as hers does, “Our boys are lucky to have you.” 

She stamps a kiss against his lips, “They are lucky to have you too.”

He smiles and looks down, shaking his head slightly when he sees that Samuel is fast asleep, “He’s sleeping.” 

She hums and looks at her son, his nose bright red and sore from where he’d been rubbing his fists against it, “Poor baby, was he okay whilst I was gone?” 

Aaron nods, “He was fine, he missed you - but he always does when you’re not here,” he runs his fingers up and down her arm, drawing a soothing pattern as they silently agree to stay sitting there with their son for a while, “So, about this half a dozen kids-”

“Aaron.” 

[angelsnkisses]

pt. 2 to kissing rory culkin characters

A/N: i really liked writing the last one, so i decided to make a little sequel :).

includes: øystein aarseth (euronymous), kappa, clyde, clement, gabriel [why do like none of his characters have clarified last names]

💟 nsfw - mdni 💟

warnings: multifandom!rory, gn!reader, mentions of smut

the man in the back 😭

euronymous (lords of chaos) would be practicing guitar on his worn out couch, his fingers moving skillfully across the strings and his head nodding along with the rhythm. you'd be sitting at the other end of the couch, your knees bent and your back against the couch's arm. he'd finish the song he was practicing before looking to you for guidance, smiling at your enthusiastic grin as you compliment his work. he'd return your grin lazily, propping the guitar up against the coffee table before climbing over you, hands grabbing your knees and pulling them apart so he could settle between them. he would start kissing you, deep and steady, his hands running up your thighs to your hips, being oh so sweet to you. it would definitely escalate, he can never be slow with you for very long (sorry, i don't make the rules). long story short, it would end in you holding onto him for dear life, crying and begging for him to slow down while he rocks into you relentlessly :(.

kappa (black mirror) would be uncharacteristically soft when kissing you (not that you mind). he's a little rough with you when it comes to intimacy, but kissing? he'd keep that gentle and sweet. he'd be relaxing with a drink (or, let's be real, plotting some kind of diabolical plan), and hear you walk in, stopping what he's doing so he can give you a captivating smile. he'd beckon you over in an almost needy manner, which you'd gladly agree to. he'd have some old radio playing crackly music, the sound adding some ambiance as you straddle him. you'd expect him to be a hard, strict dom all the time, but he really isn't. he'd cup your face, and kiss you slow, his lips meshing against yours with saccharine tenderness. less than a half hour of kissing, teasing, and stripping later, he'd be holding your waist while you ride him, thrusting his hips up to meet your bounces. he'd still be kissing you so delicately while pounding you, spitting peremptory, backhanded praises in your ear all the while.

clyde (electrick children) would be so so gentle with you, going at your pace. like, you'd be laying in bed with your hands on his chest, his on your waist, your body basically pulled on top of his as he kisses you in a way that leaves your body thrumming. despite this, he'd still be making loving comments between kisses, the ones that make your face heat up and your heart race. things like 'you're so pretty' and 'all mine' would slip from his lips almost involuntarily. when you smile and try to hide your face he'd just start kissing you all over again :<. you can expect more comments like that if things escalate, he loves praising you like no other. he'd groan and whimper softly in your ear while grinding up against you, his hips rolling against yours as amorous, borderline vulgar encouragement poured out of his mouth.

clement (hick) would just be gushing over you every single time he got his lips on yours. he'd be so enamored with the intimacy of it, especially since it's with you. he'd be hanging out with you at his place, a movie playing on the tv. the film would be ignored, however, because you two would be too busy kissing each other deeply, sitting on the floor in front of the couch. he'd have one hand on the floor for stability, the other holding your jaw in his large hand so he could angle your face up to his. if you started to get needy, he'd tease you lovingly, mumbling how perfect you are against your lips before his hand would start to slip into your pants :3.

gabriel (gabriel) would get weak in the knees every time you kiss him, the intoxication of your admiration making his brain melt into putty. he'd come up behind you while you were making a snack of something, wrapping his arms around your waist and ducking down to bury his face in your neck. he would start kissing the soft skin tenderly, murmuring little pleads and coaxes for your attention. you'd smile and turn in his hold, deciding the snack could wait and wrapping your arms around his neck. he'd smile back down at you, hands brushing over your lower back whilst he leans down. he'd begin to kiss you at an even, patient pace, humming against you contently. he wouldn't even care if it wasn't the most romantic setting, as long as you were there. he would kiss you for so long, unable to get enough of you. if you two decided you wanted to take things further, his kisses would deepen amatorily, desperation growing as he tries to tug you in the direction of the bedroom. he would start begging you under his breath, quietly muttering how bad he needs you :(.

**

A/N: i've never written for clyde before, i hope it wasn't too out of character 😭 i just got a little carried away.. again. clements was a little short, but his appearance in hick was very brief, so i didn't have much to work off of. anyways, hope you enjoyed :)!

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

I need your headcanons on how the Boyd Boys would react in the situation that they got a baby in their care.No one knows where it came from,doesn't need to be theirs,but they're stuck with a baby now. Good luck to them 👍 (with love from anon who got hit with sudden baby fever for the first time in his 20s)

Haha good luck with that baby fever, anon!! I’ve heard when it hits it hits *hard*

Steve Murphy: This one is easy, because we know exactly how Steve Murphy responds! He adopts that baby ASAP, and proceeds to be a dutiful (if maybe not exactly excited) dad!

Donald Pierce: He’d hold it awkwardly, possibly at an arms length from himself, squinting as it gurgled like it’s an engine making funky noises he’s trying to decipher. As soon as it started crying he’d hand it right over to Gabby. Pierce isn’t crazy about babies! He doesn’t find them interesting! They don’t have anything to say, and they don’t do anything fun! They just cry loudly, eat, and poop! (There is, however, a moment when he’s watching Gabby murmur lullabies and gently rock it to the sleep, that he just feels *so* inexplicably tender.)

Cap Hatfield: He finds babies ADORABLE, if faintly perplexing. He tries his best to make sure it’s comfortable, maybe whittles a little rattler for it, but ultimately he’s passing it off to the first relative he sees that knows more about childrearing than he does. But he’ll absolutely be popping in to help!

Clement Mansell: Ooh I feel like this is SO dependent on his mood at the time. 90% of the time Clement is immediately dropping that kid off at the nearest fire station, but if he’s in kind of a wistful, melancholy state, thinking about his dad or his legacy?? Yeah, he’s keeping that kid. I feel like having a kid *could* actually make Clement a better person too, if it makes him kind of reflect on what he wants for his kid (and the ways that’s different than what he got growing up), but he’s also 100% gonna use his adorable little baby to distract marks while he robs them blind.

The Corinthian: Aw man, the Corinthian is actually *great* with babies. (Baby Daniel!!) I don’t think he’d hang on to it if he didn’t have to though - unless for some reason he got insta-attached - but if it maybe reminded him of Orpheus (who I HC Corinthian sometimes babysat) or something, he’d be such a devoted dad! Based solely on the vibes I got from how he interacted with Jed, I can see the Corinthian having a bit of a double-life: sure, there’s moments where he acts *off*, or says something weird, but overall he’s giving his kid the standard all-American life, complete with a trampoline in the backyard and a golden retriever. He makes his kid and his kid’s friends sandwiches when they hang out at the house after school. Maybe he seduces their hot dads. Maybe he does some serial killing on the side! But he’ll also be there at every soccer game and ballet rehearsal.

Eli Klaber: Klaber finds kids adorable, but doesn’t really know what to do with them. He’d try his best though! He’d read parenting books and attend classes (probably surrounded by brand-new mothers slightly perplexed by his presence). I feel like he’d be the dad that tries to bring his kid *everywhere* (including to work!) and the first day of daycare he absolutely cries a little.

Ty Shaw: Ty immediately integrates the baby into the family! This is a Shaw baby now! He’s good with kids; after basically being a dad for three kids already, he’s old hat at this! He finds it so cute too, and he’s definitely the obnoxious parent that takes a million pictures of their kid and then insists on showing them *all* to everyone he meets.

Quinn McKenna: The thing is, Quinn actually *is* good with kids, and he does like them, but he’s not good at being around them for too long. He can’t really do fatherhood for very long without getting a little distant and needing space. I think if he *has* to take care of this kid, he’ll do it and he’ll do a thorough and competent job, but he’s gonna be burnt out quick, and maybe not always the most emotionally available parent. It’s better for him (and the kid, frankly) if he can find someone else to be the full-time parent, and he can act as an uncle figure.

[selkiewife]

Symbolism in the Alicent and Rhaenyra Confrontation

I can't stop thinking of the potential symbolism of the confrontation between Alicent and Rhaenyra in the Driftmark Episode. The inclusion of the Night King slaying catspaw dagger (which we find out in HOTD is also Aegon's dagger) charged the whole scene with Azor Ahai and Nissa Nissa symbolism for me. I wondered if anyone else felt the same? 

The hidden inscription that Aegon had the pyromancers put on the blade- From my blood come the prince that was promised and his will be the song of ice and fire- was likely intended to mean from his (Aegon's) bloodline. But when Alicent drew Rhaenyra's blood with the dagger it got me wondering whether it could mean the blood that the dagger spills. As if the dagger itself is speaking- from my blood (the blood that I spill) comes the prince that was promised.

And then that made me think about the parallels between two people that are cut by Aegon's dagger in showverse: Rhaenyra and Catelyn. They are both mothers defending their children who are voluntarily sacrificing themselves (if need be) for the greater good (their kids) which is very similar to Nissa Nissa:

"... 'Nissa Nissa,' he said to her, for that was her name, 'bare your breast, and know that I love you best of all that is in this world.' She did this thing, why I cannot say, and Azor Ahai thrust the smoking sword through her living heart. It is said that her cry of anguish and ecstasy left a crack across the face of the moon, but her blood and her soul and her strength and her courage all went into the steel. Such is the tale of the forging of Lightbringer, the Red Sword of Heroes. ~ A Clash of Kings, Davos I

I remember a while ago @st-clements-steps brought up the fact that everyone is always trying to figure out who Azor Ahai is when Nissa Nissa is as equally (if not more) interesting since she is the person who CHOOSES to sacrifice themselves to save the world. She is described as someone who voluntarily presents herself as a sacrifice. I think that a mother defending her child and willing to sacrifice her life for theirs is a really powerful Nissa Nissa image. Nissa Nissa sacrifices herself to save the future of the world. The Mothers (Rhaenyra and Catelyn) putting their bodies between a dagger and their child is a similar symbolic idea. 

Whether it is the blood that flows from the dagger or the bloodline- the fact that it is two mothers whose blood is spilled by the dagger feels significant. Corlys was right when he said "History does not remember blood, it remembers names." And what names are the ones that are remembered? Well, the male ones. The surnames of the noble males are the ones that are passed down. Aegon himself believed that the Prince that was Promised would come from his bloodline. But interestingly, "his line" comes from his sister, Rhaenys the Conquerer, who was rumored to have lovers:

Whilst no one ever questioned Visenya’s fidelity to her brother-husband, Rhaenys surrounded herself with comely young men, and (it was whispered) even entertained some in her bedchambers on the nights when Aegon was with her elder sister. ~ Fire and Blood, Aegon's Conquest

So even though all the Targaryens are related to Aegon, there is a chance that the direct line of rulers is from Rhaenys and whomever she chose as her lover. Which I’d like. It doesn’t make Aegon wrong. It’s still his blood since it is his sister's blood. But I love how it also subverts what he believes as well. And in a way that makes women and bastards more important than true born male heirs. In the world of asoiaf, so much emphasis is put on the importance of trueborn male heirs. And yet, the two charcters most likely to be the Prince that was Promised are Daenerys Targaryen and/or Jon Snow. A woman and a bastard.

And speaking of that, the idea of the Prince that was Promised being a girl or a woman is supported by both the novels and by the show. As Maester Aemon said in the novels:

"No one ever looked for a girl... It was a prince that was promised, not a princess. Rhaegar, I thought … the smoke was from the fire that devoured Summerhall on the day of his birth, the salt from the tears shed for those who died. He shared my belief when he was young, but later he became persuaded that it was his own son who fulfilled the prophecy, for a comet had been seen above King’s Landing on the night Aegon was conceived, and Rhaegar Targaryen was certain the bleeding star had to be a comet. What fools we were, who thought ourselves so wise! The error crept in from the translation. Dragons are neither male nor female, Barth saw the truth of that, but now one and now the other, as changeable as flame. The language misled us all for a thousand years. Daenerys is the one, born amidst salt and smoke. The dragons prove it." ~ A Feast for Crows, Samwell IV

And Missandei explained from the show:

MISSANDEI: Your Grace, forgive me, but your translation is not quite accurate. That noun has no gender in High Valyrian, so the proper translation for that prophecy would be, "The prince or princess who was promised will bring the dawn. ~ GAME OF THRONES, Season 7, Episode 7: "Stormborn"

And then, of course, Arya Stark (an unlikely girl) is the one in the show to slay the Night King.

So it is interesting that in the confrontation between Alicent and Rhaenyra, we have the role of the Azor Ahai being symbolized by Alicent- an incredibly “unlikely” person to symbolize Azor Ahai or The Prince that was Promised. And yet, taking into consideration the idea of “we never looked for a girl,” and considering that it was actually Arya who was the girl that saved the world, it makes a lot of sense. It’s even roughly the same choreography. You have person 1 (Rhaenyra and the Night King) facing person 2 (Luke and Bran) and then person 1 turns around and stops the hand of person 3 (Alicent and Arya) who has unexpectedly showed up with Aegon’s dagger in their hand. Obviously the roles of protection are reversed here (with Rhaenyra protecting Luke against Alicent’s knife instead of Arya’s knife protecting Bran) but it’s still an interesting parallel linking Alicent and Arya as the unlikely wielders of the magical prophetic weapon. Unlikely because they are girls/women (“we never looked for a girl.”) Unlikely because they are not Targaryens. 

But! Are they truly not? Alicent- a mother of Targaryens- could symbolize Dany the mother of Dragons (yes! Dany is the only mother of literal dragons but I’m talking symbolism here.) She is also a Targaryen by marriage. And she was a forced child bride in the show- another parallel to Dany. There have been better posts that you can find explaining the role of Dany as an Azor Ahai figure in the books. But we are talking mostly about the show canon and in the show, Alicent can also be symbolizing and foreshadowing Arya. I originally thought that Arya could also end up having Targaryen blood if the show decided to make the rumored Jace and Sara Snow romance canon but it looks like that is not going to happen. However, Arya's dagger is still "tempered" by her mother's blood, so perhaps mothers' blood is the magic and not necessarily a Targaryen mother's blood. This also supports the idea that the prophesies come true- but not in the way the dreamer/interpreter believes they will. Arya and Rhaenyra are also shown to have a lot of parallels so perhaps there is symbolic link more than a literal blood link between them. Or perhaps Rhaenyra is the Nissa Nissa to Arya's Azor Ahai (and in the books it may still be Daenerys or Jon.) I think Rhaenyra putting herself in harm's way to protect Luke (her bastard) can also foreshadow Lyanna dying to birth Jon Snow.

On the whole, I do think it is really interesting that Rhaenyra and Alicent mirror Nissa Nissa and Azor Ahai in this scene. Especially when you consider the potential homoerotic undertones to their friendship. According to the legend, Azor Ahai and Nissa Nissa did love each other before one killed the other. Though it is a change from the books, I like how the relationship between Alicent and Rhaenyra highlight the asoiaf theme that, as Arya says, "The woman is important too!" Nissa Nissa is important. The dead mothers are important. The unremembered blood of mothers is important. Bastards are important. The relationships between women are important. The unlikely heroes are important.

tagging @targaryenfamilyorgy who wrote this post

[batrachised]

Violence and Walter

I've been reading LM Montgomery and Gender, and although I'm only a few essays in, there have been a couple on Walter that have blown my mind. Specifically, their commentary on Walter's relationship to violence has split my brain open. They've begun to answer a question I've had for a while: why did LM Montgomery have Walter so savagely beat Dan Reese?

Let's be real here, the general image of Walter is someone who is milk-soppish. In a way, he shares some similarities with Robin Stuart, although he decidedly has more backbone. However, he still has that delicate, sensitive imagery surrounding him that follows him throughout the books. We have all the passages that are probably familiar if you've been following me for a while: Gilbert describes him as being afraid to go upstairs in the dark, many people mock him for being sensitive, and the overall impression is that he's thought of is being shy, retiring, and girly.

This stands in stark contrast to the scene where he fights Dan Reese. Exhibit:

Walter reeled a little. The pain of the blow tingled through all his sensitive frame for a moment. Then he felt pain no longer. Something, such as he had never experienced before, seemed to roll over him like a flood. His face flushed crimson, his eyes burned like flame. The scholars of Glen St. Mary school had never dreamed that “Miss Walter” could look like that. He hurled himself forward and closed with Dan like a young wildcat. There were no particular rules in the fights of the Glen school boys. It was catch-as-catch can, and get your blows in anyhow. Walter fought with a savage fury and a joy in the struggle against which Dan could not hold his ground. It was all over very speedily. Walter had no clear consciousness of what he was doing until suddenly the red mist cleared from his sight and he found himself kneeling on the body of the prostrate Dan whose nose—oh, horror!—was spouting blood. [...] There was a loud clapping from the boys who were perched on the rail fence, but some of the girls were crying. They were frightened. They had seen schoolboy fights before, but nothing like Walter as he had grappled with Dan. There had been something terrifying about him. They thought he would kill Dan. Now that all was over they sobbed hysterically—except Faith, who still stood tense and crimson cheeked.

This isn't the skittish, highstrung Walter we know. This is deliberately emphasizing Walter's savagery. The language here is not one that speaks to justice being served. Walter isn't being presented as an avenging force for justice; Walter is being presented as an animal. He's fully carried away by a blunt brutality arising from base instinct. More that that: he's enjoying it.

Epperly's book The Fragrance of Sweet Grass provided me with some preliminary answers. According to her, this entire passage is an allegory for WWI. And ah ha, that makes so much sense. Walter, fighting against forces of evil, losing himself in the brutality and bloodshed. As Epperly states:

However, even Epperly questions Montgomery's use of Walter's savagery. She attributes it to a brief commentary on vengeance within the framework of Walter as the gallant knight (it's cut off, but this paragraph begins with "Interestingly..." on the previous page of the book):

So we have some answers here - the allegory is obvious, especially in the context of WWI - but there's an essay in the gender book that has some really interesting explorations into Walter's frame of mind that I want to poke at (From "Uncanny Beauty" to "Uncanny Disease": Destabilizing Gender through the Deaths of Ruby Gillis and Walter Blythe and the Life of Anne Shirley by Lesley Clement).

Clement more fully leans into the savagery of Walter, to the point of claiming that the Jekyll and Hyde cat could be seen as a parallel for Walter's two sides. In their analysis of Walter's arc, they see possibilities for (1) Walter having a death wish, and (2) Walter suffering from shell shock, even as he writes that letter to Rilla.

LM Montgomery's portrayal of Walter's heroism takes on a very different light here. It's a sort of double-vision: Walter wasn't scared of realities, only of his imagination; Walter, in the end, was the bravest of them all; but also - Walter wanted to die on the front. This could even be seen as tacitly confirmed by his message to Rilla that he couldn't live after what he'd seen. His immunity to fear on the front can be seen as both a personal triumph that ends his arc, and a suicidal shell shock.

Walter's death wish could arguably also be seen in the aftermath, the last poem he ever wrote - and the last story every written in the AOGG series:

The Aftermath carries multiple possible meanings. Walter could be remembering killing a teen boy, he could be recalling what he'd seen, or, as stated here: he could be reflecting on his own death. Overall, in Clement's opinion, Walter "displays not only a death wish but also possible signs of shell shock" in that final letter to Rilla. And I have to say, I agree. I'm sure LM Montgomery meant it as a noble goodbye on the part of Walter, and that still stands; interpreting Walter's statements also gets particularly tricky when considering his second sight aspects. However, in the letter Walter both sensed his death on the horizon due to those aspects, and at the same time welcomed it. Although it doesn't quite get to an explicit death wish - more framed as an acceptance of his fate - I think that reading is fair.

Notably, though, to go back to the main subject of this--Clement also ties in Walter's savage side. That Jekyll and Hyde is very reminiscent to the two sides of Walter seen in Rainbow Valley. Clement only questions Walter's "Hyde-ness", and I can see why: I think that portraying Walter as a murderous psychopath is definitely a step too far. However...we've seen how Walter gets when fighting for justice. That's inarguable. At the least, we know that WWI would have required Walter to tap into that part of himself. Ultimately, despite the coolheaded words, Walter has held hands with the side of himself that savagely beat Dan Reese, and that has a grip which does not let go. The essay even argues that Walter would be unfit to marry Una if he had returned:

In addition to these passages, in Walter's case specifically, we have precedent for the effect that fighting has on him - his fight with Dan Reese definitely "unleashed an unfitness of soul." Clement goes so far as to describe Walter as tainted, which, when viewing Walter as an individual, I'm uncomfortable with, but when viewing Walter as a symbol, makes complete sense.

Although it might feel icky to say this in the context of PTSD, I think Clement's point isn't about Walter being quote-end quote "damaged goods;" it's about highlighting that a just war is still war. As the passage itself states, fighting "God's battles" doesn't mean you will be spared from the aftereffects (or, one might say, the aftermath). Still, I dislike the framing here, until I remembered a passage from an earlier essay and everything clicked (yes, this conclusion is supremely obvious, but bear with me and my two brain cells). The previous essay (the white feather one I shared passages from earlier) comments that LM Montgomery wrote Rilla as a tribute to "Canada's girlhood," then goes on to say:

And so we arrive, at last, at the reasoning for Walter's savagery for Dan Reese, and as always, Walter's symbolism. Walter Blythe is Canada. The death of Walter's innocence - his "tainting" - could represent the death of the old world and its perceived innocence. He fought to save family and homes - Faith, in her girlhood - against the enemy, but in doing so, lost himself. And based on what we have here, I think Walter realized it. He couldn't live in the world after what he'd seen, but also, he didn't want to live in the world after what he'd done.

[lovelytsunoda]

payphone // dennis hauger

summary: it's not easy dating a formula 2 driver, especially when you're trying to balance that with your first year of college and he's halfway across the world.

if happily ever afters did exist, i would still be holding you like this. all the fairy tales are full of shit, one more fucking love song and i'll be sick

pairing: dennis hauger x female reader

warnings: anxiety and burnout, stress. dennis being the best boyfriend anybody could possibly ask for. he's also a little cheeky.

authors notes: not sure if I love the way this ended but I love this idea and kinda ran with it…could do a part two if I really wanted to like I still have so much to say

the apartment door slammed shut behind her as she ran immediately to her room, exhausted and ignoring her two roommates: one was in the kitchen attempting not to burn the mac and cheese, and the other was watching the leafs game on the large television.

wiping her eyes, y/n y/l/n placed her backpack on the floor before flopping down on the bed, rolling over and staring at the bland ceiling.

it had been the longest day of her life.

she had been awake since six in the morning, in classes from eight am until well after noon, and she was so tired that she couldn;t work out if she had actually paid enough attention because her mind kept wandering, her fingers hovering over the buttons for the f2 website, attempting to follow the race and her classes at the same time.

sometimes, she felt like a really shitty girlfriend, especially when she was so busy with school that she couldn't drop everything and follow dennis halfway around the world, no matter how much she wanted to.

and she missed him like hell.

they were both still so young, and neither of them deserved to have this much pressure on their relationship so early. they were just kids.

she sat up, hair messy and eyes bleary, reaching into her backpack for her cell phone. the one person that she needed right now was a million miles away, even though the f2 season was pretty much over after felipe drugovich took the title in monza. the final race was in abu dhabi, time zones and dial tones away.

y/n was lucky, she had been able to follow dennis for the portion of the season that took place over her summer break, directly following her high school graduation. dennis had been there to see her walk across the stage, and she would always remember the stink eye that her father gave the young driver just before the two teenagers boarded prema's private plane to fly out to silverstone, and she had stayed with him through to spielberg before she needed to fly home, preparing the final small details before she was due to move out for college.

she loved the people dennis worked with, found them easy to get along with. clement novalak would often send her memes in the middle of the day, whatever time zone he was in, for the sole purpose of making sure that she remembered to smile.

the phone rang three times before dennis picked up, hair messy and bags under his eyes. he looked like he had just woken up, and the husky yet slurred tone of voice confirmed it.

she had forgotten there was a massive time difference between abu dhabi and toronto.

even though it was four thirty where she was, it would have been past midnight where he was, and with it being the night before a feature race, dennis would need all the sleep that he could get. she instantly felt bad, the emotion overwhelming her as she began to cry again.

"princess, what's wrong? is everything okay."

"i miss you so much." she managed to say, wiping her eyes. "i've been awake since six in the morning, and i have so much fucking work to do tonight that i probably wont get to sleep until about one in the morning even though i've been in the library working almost non stop since class ended. i've barely had a chance to eat today and i feel like a fucking shitty girlfriend for not being in abu dhabi with you."

she could hear fabric rustling on the other end as dennis sat up in bed, readjusting the camera. the t-shirt he had worn to bed was one that he bought when they both went to manchester, something with a shitty manchester saying on it that he had bought because he thought that it was funny.

she missed being in dennis' arms, breathing in his woodsy scent. she missed his arms around her waist while she tried to make dinner, playing with the rings on his fingers while he held her.

"baby, it's going to be okay. i'll be home in a few days, and i'll come straight there, okay? the guys will understand why i can;t go out and party with them, i can get an earlier flight."

"i don't want to be a burden, dennis. go out with your friends. i can wait another seventy-two hours."

it killed dennis to hear her like that, the pure defeat in her voice. she looked exhausted, and he wondered if there was something she wasn't telling him, if her anxiety was getting bad again.

"baby, you need to eat something. what do you want for dinner, let me order you something."

"you're going to uber eats me dinner from the emirates?"

"done. i've ordered greek straight to the building. it'll be there in twenty minutes."

her stomach clenched. even from the other side of the world, dennis was truly the perfect person. her person. and letting him go chase his dreams sometimes hurt more than it should have. "i miss you."

"i know, princess. i miss you too. make sure you eat something and get some rest, okay? class can wait, but you should come first."

"i know. call me when your flight lands."

"always."

"alice and i will be watching tomorrow. thea as well, if she doesn't have work. get some rest, you can't be tired tomorrow if you're gonna get in that car."

dennis laughed. "i'll call you before the race, yeah?"

"always. good luck, darling."

"luck doesn't matter. felipe's won already."

she chuckled, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "tell the guys i say hello, yeah? i love you, dennis."

"i love you too, y/n."

_______________

it was dark outside, candles on the coffee table as y/n and alice sat on the ikea couch, clutching each other’s hand as the race was in full swing on the large television. thea had come home from her overnight shift at tims. she was still wearing her work shirt when she joined her two roommates on the couch.

“who’s winning?”

“pourchaire. felipe is right behind him. dennis is firmly in p5.”

“so you’ve met most of these guys, right.” alice raised her eyebrows, flipping her dyed hair out of her face. “who’s fuckable?”

“jesus christ, al!” y/n cackled “well, dennis is extraordinarily fuckable, and it’s an activity I have taken part in multiple times before-“

“okay, we get it!” thea cut her off. “she means ‘is felipe drugovich single.”

alice gaped “no need to attack me like that!”

all three girls burst out into laughter, y/n momentarily forgetting the pain of not being by dennis’ side, all the stress that she was shouldering on her own.

and when the love of her life crossed the line in third place, his final podium finish of the season, all three girls jumped around the living room and cheering, arms around each other.

quick as a razor she grabbed her phone, taking a video of the celebrations before sending it to dennis.

“I’m proud of you, baby.” she said into the camera. “get home safe, hauger.”

_______________

abu dhabi

“dennis mate, don’t be a buzzkill.” jack doohan laughs, sitting on the hood of his renault. “that’s p3 mate, you need to celebrate somehow.”

“I changed my flights, I’m heading home in like, three hours. I really can’t stay.” dennis insisted, digging around in his duffle bag for his keys.

the f1 season had concluded, each of the f2 boys watching from the paddock club balcony, beers in hand as sebastian vettel crossed the line in yas marina for the last time.

half an hour later, they were in the parking lot, signing autographs and talking about the after party. felipe already had one girl on each arm, and two following him out of the paddock, enamoured with the f2 champion.

“I don’t know about you guys, but instead of getting hammered and downright wasted to the point where we’re all acting like clem, I’d like to be on a plane to toronto so I can hug my girlfriend again.”

liam lawson pretended to gag as marcus armstrong clapped the prema driver in the shoulder. “when did you become the romantic one?”

“fuck you, lawson.” dennis chuckled, unlocking his porsche. “I’ll tell her you said hi, yeah?”

“give her my best. you’re a good man, hauger.” marcus gave him a mock salute. “tell her she’s welcome on screaming meals whenever.”

“fat chance, marcus. now get away from my car before you get yourself run over.”

“does she know you’re coming back early?” clement novalak asked, his usual dazed expression on his face. “don’t give her a heart attack or anything.”

clement knew what y/n was like, the anxiety coursing through her veins. though he could come across as an airhead, clem was a very perceptive person, and it didn’t take him long to figure out that y/n was just putting on a front, the worries that were behind her eyes. that was why he texted her all the time, making sure that she remembered to smile while dennis did all of the doting boyfriend bullshit.

he also knew that y/n hated it when dennis would put her needs above his own, opting to stay in on nights out and spend time with her, curled up next to her in bed while she read her book, or laughin as they both fumbled in the hotel kitchen trying to make a proper dinner. y/n didn’t want people thinking she was a burden, and worried what the other drivers would think of her if dennis kept offering to stay with her instead of going out with the boys.

“I called alice, one of the roommates. she knows and she’s gonna let me into the building and whatever while y/n is at class. I’ll be there when she comes back.”

“lovesick fool.” jehan daruvula snickered. “I’m surprised fucking clem hasn’t said anything yet.”

"make sure she's taking care of herself. you know how she can get when it's bad." felipe said softly. "make sure she knows she's loved."

it. almost as if nobody wanted to mention y/n's one drastic flaw: her overthinking and sometimes needy nature. she couldn't help it, and dennis didn't mind. he just wished that the love of his life could feel more comfortable with her own mind and emotions.

dennis smiled, pulling out his phone. “guys, say hi to y/n. I’ll send her the video just before I get on the plane, she’s never gonna see it coming.”

the f2 grid crammed themselves into the camera frame, waving at the camera after dennis pressed record, clem even going as far as blowing joking kisses at the camera before dennis ruffled his hair, pushing clems head back and forth.

“love you, princess. I’ll be home soon.”

_______________

dennis ahuger had spent almost thirteen hours on a plane coming from abu dhabi and he still insisted on driving himself to the housing building, which was another forty five minutes from pearson international.

it was just after ten am, and y/n was already in her first class of the day. thea was at work for the morning, her first classes starting at noon, and alice was at home for her treasured day off.

"you want me to park a porsche in a parking garage that's twenty minutes from a college campus? alice, you understand that my car costs more than a years worth of tuition, right? and you want me to park it somewhere it could get written off?"

"well, if you park on the street, or in the back lot, she'll know you're here!" alice argued on the other end of the phone. she was trying to make the apartment look presentable, and that included dealing with the mountain of recycling that should have been taken out three weeks ago.

“so you’d rather the car gets hit?”

“there are cameras!”

the prema driver rolled his eyes, turning into the underground garage. thea had offered up her parking spot, parking in the guest lot at the back of the building instead. when he turned into the underground, he immediately felt like he was attracting too much attention, as the eyes of every student in the garage turned towards his sports car, eyes following his every move.

he slowly manoeuvred into the parking spot, turning the volume on the radio down, the bass guitar shaking the windows. he cut the engine, slipping out of the porsche and heading to the back of the car for his bags.

“nice car bro!” one of the passers by shouted in his direction as he began to walk towards the elevator, exhaustion beginning to set in despite the fact that he slept on the plane.

but the only thing that mattered was getting back to y/n.

_______________

y/n was exhausted. college was nothing like she thought it was going to be, and she was tired of the wall to wall stress, the work that piled up on her when she least expected it.

the loneliness. she expected there to be more social events, more chances to meet people. instead, she could count the amount of new friends she had made in a month on one hand.

she missed clement waking them all up at six in the morning because he was nothing but energy. she missed marcus and his hilarious critique of hospitality food.

she missed what she knew, the people she knew. people from high school, people she’d met because of dennis who had loved her instantly and accepted her as one of their own.

but most of all, she missed dennis, and the way that the driver made her feel.

she was exhausted and worn down, the subway bag holding her lunch swinging from her arm as she walked back to the housing building, key fob dangling from the keychain between her fingers. the fall wind was aggressive, cutting through her ripped skinny jeans and the red bull zip-up sweater that she had stolen from dennis before he left for abu dhabi.

y/n used her key fob to open the lobby door, heading straight for the stairwell as she was out of patience to wait for the elevators.

elevators that hardly ever worked. with every day she spent in the housing development, she realized that the apartment lobby was the nicest part of the building, and the rest was a bit of a dump.

the hallways smelt like marijuana, and the lights in her section of the hall didn't work properly. the paint on the front door was peeling, but it was still stable and the electronic lock still worked properly when she put the number in correctly.

"alice! i'm back!"

the lights in the apartment were off, and it was oddly quiet. raising her eyebrows, she placed her take-out on the laminate counter, shrugging of her overly heavy, pin-covered backpack on the cracked tile floor that her roommate had covered in a shag run in an attempt to brighten the place up.

as far as housing went, the ones sponsored by the school were worse, so y/n had it okay.

but that didn't mean she wouldn't complain every week when the fire alarms went off because some dickhead forgot how a toaster worked and tried to use a frying pan to make toast instead.

she took off her shoes, staring at the ground in confusion as her foot brushed up against something soft. she knelt down to pick it up, revealing a trail of rose petals going from the kitchen and front foyer to the living room, where she could see the faint glow of led fairy lights.

"al?" she shouted again, walking slowly, heart pounding.

"hi, princess."

"dennis!"

y/n couldn't believer her eyes. as far as she knew, dennis' flight didn't leave the emirates until later that night. fighting back tears, she launched herself at the prema driver, wrapping her arms around his neck and holding him close.

"i'm glad you're here, hauger."

he kissed her forehead gently, running his fingers through her hair. "i'm here, darling. i switched my flights with nicholas latifi, flew to montreal and then got a cheap commercial connecting flight. you needed me, and i didn't want to be away any longer than i had to."

she pulled away to look her lover in the eye. "dennis, you didn't have to do that. what about the guys? this was your last hurrah, the end of the season."

"the season ended in monza, this was just for shits and giggles." dennis said with a shrug. "clement says hello. he also bought you a squishmallow, it's in my bag somewhere. for some absurd reason, he likes buying other people's girlfriends gifts."

y/n laughed. "bless him."

dennis took y/n's hand in his, gently running a finger over her knuckles before leaning in an pressing a gentle kiss to her lips. "i missed you."

"so do i."

it was a quiet night for the couple. they curled up next to each other on the couch, a shitty movie playing on the tv as they held each other close. y/n was glad to have dennis back home. everything felt right again. y/n felt recharged, like she could handle anything as long as the norwegian boy was by her side.

after the movie ended, dennis asked if she was okay, and she spilled about everything. she talked about her struggles to fit in at college, how she felt like she was going to buckle under the weight of everything she needed to get done.

"you're going to get through this, okay. this will pass." dennis said softly, pressing his lips to her hairline. "i am so proud of you, darling."

when her roommates came home, thea brought pizza and garlic bread. the four young adults sat on cushions on the floor, pizza box in the middle of the circle, some sitcom on disney plus playing in the background.

alice noticed the change in y/n's demeanor as soon as she walked in. just having dennis around improved y/n's mood. they fed off each other, giving the other strength when they needed it the most.

_______________

the moon was high, and y/n was half asleep as she attempted to organize her room, kicking her various pairs of shoes aside and picking up law textbooks that were sprawled on her floor.

"that's something i've missed a lot." dennis chuckled as y/n bent over to pick up her program hoodie, which had tumbled off her overflowing laundry basket. because of her short pajama shorts, dennis got a very good look at her ass, and he wasn't complaining.

"don't be cheeky." y/n laughed, lobbing a pillow at the driver's head. "my roommates are home, and this fucking mattress is liable to throw your back before we've even gotten started."

dennis laughed, making space in the double bed for his girlfriend, floral duvet over his bottom half as y/n slid into bed next to him on rock-hard mattress.

"you're right, this mattress is fucking awful." dennis groaned as he tucked her in.

"i know, dennis."

"i can order you a better one."

"i know, dennis. but there's no point if i'm gonna move back home eventually. it's just an occupational hazard. like hospitality food."

"don't even get me started on hospitality food." dennis laughed, pulling y/n closer so he could breathe her in, to reassure himself that she was here, that she was okay.

for y/n, being back in dennis' arms meant safety and security, comfort. she rested her head against his chest, breathing in his woodsy scent as she matched her breathing to his, falling into a rhythm as she closed her eyes.

"i love you, dennis. i'm so proud of you." she kissed him softly, nuzzling further into his side.

“I love you too, princess. and I’m proud as hell of you for doing this. get some rest, you deserve it.”

[catboyclarity]

I'm doing Whumptober this year because October is a rough time for me and putting characters through The Horrors makes you feel better. I'm mostly using this promptlist because I like it better, may have other prompts in there, don't care about the event stuff, just tagging it so people can blacklist if they want, will be using my OCs or my partner's OCs, will have prompts and potential triggers above the readmore, won't be posting every single one as some are Just For Me.

Day 1. Gunshot Wound. Tws: blood, pain, alcohol mention.

OCs: Clement (ze/hir), Zach (he/him) and Val (she/her). Werewolf hunters. Writing is canon.

“I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine,” Zach said. He kept repeating that. Clement wasn’t particularly reassured. Ze knew him well enough that ze also knew he’d be saying that even if he’d been disemboweled or lost a limb or was otherwise mortally injured. Val threw the car door open, and Clement helped Zach lay down as softly as ze could. He swallowed down a shallow pained sound. “I’m fine, really, it just—it just grazed me, it just grazed me.” 

Val crawled into the front seat, to look for the first aid kit, while Clement lifted up Zach’s shirt to check the injury on his side. Ze breathed a sigh of relief. He was right, it had just grazed him—but the wound bled and bled, and all Clement could think about is that if the bullet had hit him just a few more inches to the right, it would have pierced his organs. There would be nothing they could have done for him.

“I’m okay…?” Zach asked, quietly. “You’ll be alright,” Clement said. “You’ll pull through, buddy, we’ll take care of you, okay?” 

“Okay,” Zach repeated. He leaned his head back and winced. Nineteen, only a few years younger than Clement and Val, but at that moment ze felt every day of that gap. Gangly, pale, his movements unbalanced sometimes in the way that reminded hir of a puppy.. He’d been hunting for less than a year, usually with bigger groups than just their trio, did he really know what he was getting into? Were they going to get this poor boy killed someday?

“A fucking gun,” Val said, coming back over the glove compartment with disinfectant and gauze in hand. 

“We should have watched better,” Clement said. Val scowled at hir. 

“Werewolves don’t usually have fucking guns,” she said. “Jesus christ.”

“Should we take him to a  hospital?” “We’re broke.” She sat down on the car floor and unscrewed the bottle of antiseptic. “Zach, this is gonna hurt like a bitch, okay?” 

“I can take it,” He said, looking at the ceiling. “I’m a tough motherfucker, I don’t feel pain, I—” He gritted his teeth to keep from screaming as Val poured it over his wound. 

“You’re doing great.” Clement grabbed his hand. He squeezed hard enough to hurt.

“It’s gonna need stitches.” Val peered at the wound. “Clem, we still have some booze in the back of the van. Go get it, okay?” Ze nodded and let go of Zach’s hand, backing out of the still-open car door. Even outside, ze could still spell the blood. Ze stumbled around to the back compartment and rifled around in there, seeking the bottle of shitty vodka ze knew was in there.

As ze did so, ze could still hear further up in the van. Zach was crying, the sobs choked off, like he was trying to keep them down. Val soothed him, the particular words inaudible, in a voice much softer than she had ever used for Clement.

[faunastanza]

TALwire's Egg Change Dream Exchange

TALwire's Egg Change Dream Exchange, by TALwire, Decateranomy, Maya, Art, Stolas, Phesund, Levee, Kain, and others

Been a while, huh? About six months went between the last update and this one, if you're keeping track. The Althar RP ended in the meantime, so we got some closure on all those characters and plot threads that have been introduced over the past year PSYCHE YOU GET NOTHING!!! Just another new parade of inexplicable badly designed characters with no context or continuity that I have to catalogue because a cruel and unfeeling God (my brain) has made this my eternal task.

In terms of real-life drama that may or may not work its way into the comic, the most recent one is Glip being upset about people using or drawing their characters in ways they don't like. Which is an understandable sentiment, except that Floraverse is under the  Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 License and states this prominently in several places. This license specifically says that any thing you submit to this 'verse can be used by someone else writing/drawing in the 'verse for whatever purposes they want. I assume Glip intended to use this to use characters people submitted however they wanted (as their rage meltdown in Circlet of the Sun implies) and didn't expect people to use their characters in the same way. Anyway they're real mad about it.

They've also talked recently about how someone kept drawing porn of Andre a while back, as mystifying a concept as that sounds, and they got so upset and disgusted by this that they decided to revamp Andre into Phesund, which is why he sucks now. Given how Lily and Neon also got killed off out of spite, I suspected something like that was the case for Andre/Phesund/Stolas. I'm pretty sure Amdusias/Orobas/Cress/Min also got shuffled off-stage for similar reasons and Glip doesn't have the guts to kill them off. Funny how it's always the only likeable characters that keep getting replaced...

This update is focused on an RP event in the discord where you had to make a dream for someone else's character. For this, Glip made a dream for Sunbe, who is the player for a character named Maya. They say that the VN features some things that happened in RPs and some that didn't, so not only is this about a dream in an RP, it's a dream about things that maybe didn't even happen and there's no way to know the difference since I wasn't in the RP. This comic was made to torture me personally.

The opening shot has what looks like a Deca/TAL amalgam with a stupid heart chest and a cat that looks a lot like Papaya (this is Maya).

 maya, papaya, this should be easy to keep straight

We start on Rath 1/1, traversing Chlorospace. There's a shot of a five-petaled flower in blue. Two white points appear on it where the petals touch the bud, and then we get a shot of Maya's crying face under it. Stolas in his stupid crown outfit asks "Why is that stupid dog in here? Get out. You. White dog." which really sounds like an upcoming Undertale reference but it's not. He's actually talking to an extremely tired looking white uniqorn thing which we saw a LONG time ago in the Stolas First Speech VN. I actually wondered if maybe everyone just forgot those guys existed because they were never even mentioned until this point. I have no idea what any of them were doing this whole time.

do i LOOK like a dog

Stolas has one of his trademark baby fits and screams for them to get out over and over. We get a shot of Stolas holding that one rabbit from earlier, Clement, in one of his tentacles. Clement shouts at him to "Leave him alone" while Stolas says "Okay", looking kind of red and ominous. It cuts to a shot of Maya tearily shouting at someone to Stop.

We cut to YET ANOTHER variant of Phesund, they seem endless, that has a more Andre-shape to his neck and seems to be dripping paint from the end of his "nose". This Phesund says that if he'd known, he wouldn't- and then cuts himself off, and then says he would have wanted to ask "you" first. Maya, now looking rather happy, asks him to tell her about it if he'd like to.

Phesund then says that it felt kind of creepy to "paint a child" without them knowing. He says it wasn't on purpose and he didn't know either (know what, exactly?) and that it wasn't ill-intentioned, it was just "adventures", and that he liked that. That he didn't get to do a lot of that as a child, and couldn't have a pet either.

This is very weird coming from a Glipsert, given the sheer amount of times Glip has been accused of showing porn to minors, or of turning a blind eye when minors get abused around them. Given how often children getting exposed to things they shouldn't shows up in this comic, this just reads very suspiciously.

maybe this is supposed to be meta with andre as artist and maya as a drawing, but i think that's overly generous

Phesund says he's sorry that it made Maya "uncomfortable to learn" (that he did this, one assumes), and that he'd understand. Maya asks if it's okay to ask some things, and then asks when Phesund found out she was "somebody". Phesund says that it was shortly before his students left the Art Pyramid, but he doesn't remember how he learned.

Maya asks if Phesund knows if the things he made were things that happened to her, then if it made things happen to her. Phesund says he doesn't know. He thought it was a window into something that already existed, but now that she's said that, he doesn't know for sure.

Maya starts crying, saying she has a really big feeling but it's "all messy". Phesund says that's fine. Weeping, Maya says that she feels like Phesund used her.

For some background context on this, there's a VN that someone (let's call them, "Woz") wrote that Glip hosts on their porn sidesite that features child-on-child sexual abuse that was inspired by a girl that Woz was grooming who had the same cocsa experience in real life. Said girl has asked for the VN to be taken down since she feels like it's about her sexual assault but Glip refuses to do so because they say it's actually about them and not her. If this sounds bizarre and complicated I am actually simplifying the entire fracas, you can't go two steps without falling down a rabbit hole with this comic. You can go look up more about it elsewhere if you're really curious, Glip has been posting about it frequently. This whole exchange definitely brings all that to mind at any rate.

Anyway we then cut abruptly to some other thing who asks "which apology this is for". Yet ANOTHER version of Phesund/Andre looks hesitant and says he didn't like the murder attempt dream-that-wasn't-a-dream.

so... a murder attempt then?

Phesund continues saying that he wants to do the opposite of that, which is something that can help save the rabbat's life. Clement, since I think this rabbat is Clement, says "Oh, I was wondering if it was to me," and that was why they felt silly asking. Clement then says they really appreciate this. They say they were struggling to decide if they could forgive Phesund, and now they feel even more conflicted now that they don't know if they can hold Phesund entirely at fault. We get a pull out shot and it turns out Clement is talking to AndrePhesund as painted on the wall.

hey he has the burning wand he used to kill beleth

Phesund says he's also trying to understand what happened, which, join the club!! He's trying to understand that sometimes people don't accept your apology, saying someone named Revere told him that.

Clement says that they don't know if they can accept the apology, because they're still healing. They say something inside of them broke that night, and while they're putting it back together, things aren't the same as they used to be. They say they appreciate what Phesund is doing though. Phesund, looking weepy, asks what healing is like, and if it's okay to ask.

Clement says it feels like finding new pieces of yourself and cutting yourself on them on occasion, and finding out unconscious rules that you follow, but sometimes the pieces are pretty, and so on. Phesund asks what kindness is like in a blatant ploy for pity and attention, given that he's the one who's supposed to be apologizing for hurting Clement. Clement describes it in this odd detached way like most of the people talk on the discord.

and something about being... nice? no, that can't be right

Phesund asks if everyone's connected like that, seemingly puzzled by the thought. He then tentatively asks if Clement is showing kindness to him right now.

We get another shot of the flower from the beginning, with two dots marking the outside of a petal that then form a loop, then TALcat appears. She looks different yet AGAIN.

and THIS iteration of TALcat has RED stripes that go UP

This TALcat has a slightly fluffier tail and is talking to Deca, I think. Deca wonders at how ideas can be intrepreted so vastly, and TAL agrees that they can be. Deca asks how "this" can be worked with, and whether or not it can be changed now that it's already happened, or if it's a guaranteed cycle that must be processed now.

TALcat says that you can modify the cycle but it's already moving, so while you can't stop the movement, you can alter its trajectory and meaning.

i'm thinking of getting some cool lip piercings next, maybe a mohawk

Deca says the good thing about a cycle is that you can see it over and over and figure out how to change it and what it means. TALcat then says that everyone who was in the Art Pyramid while it was sealed (when did this happen and why? oh, right in the RP we never got to see), is a part of "this" cycle currently, even if they aren't in the Pyramid, so their actions can still change the cycle.

Deca asks if that means that everyone who was in contact with Andre in the past is a part of the cycle now, even if they aren't around Andre right now, and TALcat says yes. Deca says this is quite complex, to which TAL agrees. Deca says it sounds like TAL is trying to solve for cycles with unresolved errors as a whole, starting with Andre. TAL confirms this. We get a whole lot of overlays of various TAL shapes, with TAL saying that she's trying to induce free movement in time and space and creation itself.

>:3

One of the shapes kind of looks like Dog on the Floor from the World Egg, so that might have been TAL all along I suppose? Another one kind of looks like that bizarre looking flowery prism thing that showed up in Shizukan's Test last time, and another one kind of looks like Catmoon Andre. So all of those things might have happened in different frequencies? Or TAL is just screwing around with different bodies in this frequency to see what happens. Or maybe this is aLL JUST A DREAM AAAAAAAAAAA

We cut to Phesund and Maya standing on a tree branch. Phesund says he loved the energy that Maya put into her art, and that it could reach him when he felt like nothing else could and he'd forgotten everything else. Maya is crying, again. Phesund says he wants to impart a few things before he goes. He says that who you show your art to and when and why is important, basically.

maya spends a lot of time crying

We cut to some weird pixie thing that says they want to paint Maya. Meanwhile Phesund is on the floor drawing. Phesund goes to show his picture to his mom, who says it's nice. Phesund is upset by this, saying that the picture isn't supposed to be nice. His mom says that he drew a cagroo and a cat, and Phesund protests that it's a FLOWERcat, and that the flowercat's flower means she can feel when her cagroo is hurt, so she bandaged its tail, and it's supposed to be SAD because the cagroo got HURT!! This is the first we've heard of flowers having empathetic powers but it does put Cress's flower in a new light.

Phesund's mom refers to him as Pella and says that she looked at it and thought it was nice, and she doesn't know what more he wants from her. Meanwhile, the pixie thing wearing a TALcat hat is running off while Maya chases after them.

Some weird looking thing I can't parse starts talking about how to re-establish contact with Owel, and that the first thing they need to acknowledge is that it exists. They say it's important to start with the baseline that all life is connected, presumably so no one just starts blasting when they walk in there.

isn't there a neopet that looks like this

The little pixie thing says that it knows about Owel, since that's where its dreamer is. It holds up a picture of Maya, saying that sometimes when it goes to sleep, it talks to her, and it says that Maya is really kind to it. The thing reveals itself a bit more, and I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be TAL in yet another bizarre guise, saying that that's wonderful and that she hopes it'll continue to have nice encounters in its dreams.

now if you'll excuse me, i have to go excavate dirt

And then it just ends. WELL, FINE.

So given this is a dream about things that did or didn't happen in an RP that's over and will never get explained, is there anything to be learned from that? Flowercat flowers connecting people is kind of relevant for Cress. And TAL was apparently meddling with a lot of stuff, but she's kind of always done that. I'm assuming that sequence in Shizukan's Test where Stolas tortured some thing that kind of looked like Clement is what Clement wants an apology for now, but who knows?? None of that was ever explained, and I don't even know if that was Clement anyway.

What was the bit about drawing pictures of Maya being a child, what did that mean?? TAL wants to "solve" for errors in cycles that involve Andre, does that just mean in this frequency or in all frequencies? All of these questions will definitely not be answered in the next update of Floraverse!

[skylarmoon71]

Alexander (Grimm) - Crossover AU - Chapter 23

“When is the last time you saw your son Mrs. Jansen?”

The older woman had a napkin clenched in her hand. Her eyes were slightly puffing. Given the situation you can understand why. So far Nick has questioned both siblings of Ellis Phills and managed to speak with two of Jessie Clements’ war buddies. Finding relatives or friends for Anthony Fledger is proving to be a bit difficult, but Wu is still working on it, so you know it’ll just be a matter of time.

“I spoke to him two weeks ago. He was so excited. He was finally moving on after the divorce.”

“And that’s the divorce with Hayley Jansen.”

She nodded.

“Hayley isn’t a bad person. My son just hit a rough patch after he came back from the war. He wasn’t the same. It was hard for them, but he was finally getting his life together. I know it. He was four years sober. He was going to talk with Hayley, make peace.” She sobbed, then started crying again and Nick reached over, offering her another napkin as he turned towards the glass. You sighed.

Another dead end. With how deep her grief was, there’s no way she’s responsible for what happened. Hank has already talked to Hayley and she wasn’t in much better shape. This case was driving you crazy.

A few minutes later Nick steps out, guiding Mrs. Jansen out as he passes her his card. When he moves to you, there’s a slight look of defeat.

“She’s too broken to even lay a hand on him. Records confirm what she said. He’s been attending an Alcohol Anonymous meeting for the last three years after he was discharged.”

Your eyes shift between the board and Nick.

“Wait..”

You grab a marker, heading to the board. When you start scribbling, Hank looks over from his seat and Nick steps closer.

“Jansen was in the military. Jessie was a navy officer. Anthony was a medic with a seal team. Was Ellis also a soldier?”

Hank nods.

“Ten years with the air force.” He confirmed.

“That’s the connection. Whoever this is, they’re gathering soldiers, but for what?”

Nick doesn’t have an answer to that question. It feels like you all have been staring at the pictures and names for days, when in actuality it’s been less than twenty-four hours.

“We need a break to come back fresh. I can’t think, much less solve this right now. How about we all call it a day.”

You’d like to say you aren’t tired, but you’re honestly a little exhausted and a lot aggravated. The deeper you get into this the more questions pop up.

“You guys can call it, I’m going to stay for another hour, just to double check some things.” Nick intends to persuade you otherwise, but you’re already walking away with the stack of files.

“We should probably keep an eye on her. She has that look in her eyes.” Hank warns.

Nick was thinking the same. He knows that serial killers are an area that you tend to take more personally. It’s obvious why. They are all aware of your father’s past with his own demon. Nick just hopes that your obsession doesn’t cloud your judgment or reasoning.

“I’ll look after her.”

It’s all he can really do at the moment.

~

The following day, Nick walks in, he doesn't expect to see you already working. He’s usually the first one in. When he left yesterday you assured him that you would at least take a break. When he sees your attire, one thing is clear.

“Did you sleep here last night?”

“Yes.”

You’re wearing a hoodie and sweats with the police department logo on it. It’s obvious that you’d showered in the locker room.

“(Y/N), you can’t keep going like this. You need to get some actual sleep.”

Not a nap on your couch.

“We have to stop this woman.”

“Woman?”

You nod, sliding out a sheet of paper that you’d been scribbling theories on.

“These people were killed with a poison of some kind. It’s textbook. Men are more impulsive, messy. Women tend to be more specific, calculated. Given the fact that three of the victims were men, it would be difficult for them to be subdued easily, especially given their background. These deaths were some kind of experiment, I just don’t know for what. I’m still trying to place the wesen type too. We should go to the trailer and run through the books.”

You turn, and Nick looks at the slight dark circles under your eyes. Your exhaustion is starting to show.

“You’re starting to worry me (Y/N).”

“Why, because I want to catch a killer?” You sound defensive.

“No, because you’re acting like you’re obsessed.”

You scoff, pulling back your sheet.

“You don’t understand. This woman is dangerous. She could have her next victims right now while we’re here playing detectives on each other. We need to stop her. We have to. I need to make sure she doesn’t hurt anyone else. “

“Like Thomas McAllister.”

The name makes you freeze.

He hadn’t meant to stoop that low, but he needs you to understand.

“I know you feel like it’s your duty to stop every bad thing out there, but if you’re weak, tired, then you can’t help us. You can’t help them.”

Your eyes drift to the victims.

He’s right, you know that, but it’s hard to walk away. From the second there was mention of a serial killer and you saw the patterns, it’s like something in your brain just clicked into overdrive with one goal.

In a lot of ways, you’re just like your dad in that instance. When you feel Nick’s hand on your shoulder, you turn. The look he sends you makes you partially deflate. You hadn’t meant to become so combative, especially with Nick. He’s just trying to look out for you.

“I’m sorry..”

He shakes his head.

“You have nothing to apologize for. Go home and get some sleep and get your butt back in here tomorrow. We have a killer to catch.”

You smile at him with a nod.

[yhwhrulz]

Today's Daily Encounter Friday, January 13, 2023

Acts of Kindness

"Give your burdens to the Lord, and he will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall."1

I read the following story about a hospice physician living in Denver, Colorado and his experience in showing God's kindness to a desperate mother.

I was driving home from a meeting this evening, got stuck in traffic, and the car died - I barely managed to coast into a gas station. At least I wouldn't be blocking traffic and would have a spot to wait for the tow truck. Before I could make the call, I saw a woman walking out of the gas station mart, she slipped on some ice and fell into a gas pump, so I went to see if she was okay.

When I got there, she was sobbing, but not from the fall. She was a young woman who looked overwhelmed with dark circles under her eyes. She dropped something as I helped her up, and I picked it up to give it to her. It was a nickel.

At that moment, everything came into focus for me: the crying woman, the old suburban crammed full of stuff with 3 kids in the back (1 in a car seat), and the gas pump reading $4.95. I asked if she was okay, and she kept saying "I don't want my kids to see me crying," so we stood on the other side of the pump from her car. She said she was driving to California and that things were very hard for her right now. I asked, "You were praying right?" That made her back away from me a little, but I assured her I was not a crazy person and said, "He heard you, and He sent me."

I took out my card and swiped it through the card reader on the pump so she could fill up her car, and while it was fueling, walked to McDonald's and bought 2 bags of food, gift certificates for more, and a cup of coffee. She gave the food to the kids in the car, who devoured it, and we stood by the pump eating fries and talking a little.

She lived in Kansas City. Her spouse had left 2 months ago, and she had not been able to make ends meet. She knew she wouldn't have money to pay rent on the first, and in desperation, called her parents, with whom she had not spoken in about 5 years. They lived in California and said she could come live with them until she got on her feet.

I gave her my gloves and said a quick prayer with her for safety on the road. As I was walking over to my car, she said, "So, are you like an angel or something?"

This made me cry. I said, "Angels are really busy, so sometimes God uses regular people." When I got in my car it started right away and got me home with no problem.2

Suggested prayer: Lord, use me to be part of your greater plan. Help me be aware of how you want to use me, even when it causes an interruption in my plans. Your ways are always great than mine. Use me to bless someone today. In Jesus' name, amen.

Psalm 55:22 (NLT).

www.sermoncentral.com

Today's Encounter was written by: Crystal B.

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[spookyboywhump]

can i get possibly get a dear diary for nicholas in the pet clement au-

Dear Diary,

Honestly there is nothing more satisfying than bringing an arrogant, stubborn brat to his knees. He never got on my nerves as much as Cain did, he was a lot more tolerable, but still, he makes for a good pet.

He thinks that fighting back and swearing at me will get him anywhere, if anything it makes it much more fun. He’s like Cain’s mutt without the extra strength, or extra willpower. It’s really easy to break him down when it comes down to it, and he cries so pretty for me, I’m not sure that will ever get old. In general he’s a very pretty boy, he just looks so much better when he’s upset and in pain.

I’m particularly fond of pets with longer hair, his is actually the perfect length in fact, but lately I’ve been considering cutting it off. Partially just to see how he reacts, and partially so he’ll realize I control everything right down to his appearance. I plan to think on it some more though.

- Nicholas Fairfax

[jin0]

Peter gives off bed breaking sex vibes. Like he’s just going at it on his poor overstimulated girlfriend when the bed snaps and she’s upset but lowkey relieved??? bc now maybe she’ll get a break but he’s just like a broken bed is the least of her problems right now

think about it, you two were having a problem. you didn't really know why tho. he was pissed but refused to tell you why. now you knew it was because of something you had done because as soon as he came home from patrol, he had you pinned to the wall, glaring at you before throwing you on the bed.

you don't understand what's going on but you know he's beyond pissed when he basically rips your clothes off and his spidey suit before warning you.

"if you don't want me to fuck you, tell me now. i'll go to the bathroom and call down in there but be quick before i lose my patience."

you keep quiet and nod slowly, allowing him to touch you. except he doesn't fucking touch you. as soon as you nod, he's parting your thighs open and stuffing himself balls deep inside you channel. you're more than stunned, back arched and oxygen quickly leaving your body.

he's holding your neck with one hand and the headboard with the other and he just started going at it. he's rough and fast, you thighs are already trembling and sensitive from the violence of his skin slapping your. you're moaning loud, practically screaming in both pleasure and surprise. you liked it when he's handled you and nothing turned you on more than having him mad at you but you wish you could have an explanation as to why he was so angry at you.

he's not even letting you moan properly, forcing your mouth open and stuffing his fingers inside to muffle your sounds.

"shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear a single sound coming from you, slut."

in that moment you feel so weak, soaking wet around his cock because he degrades you. he knows you like that shit but it isn't the point. he's fucking you like you ran him over for a while, letting you cum as hard as you want but still preventing you from being loud which makes you even more wet.

each time he came, he'd pull out and cum on your stomach or force your mouth open to swallow his load. he was rough and angry and dominant and you should've probably been asking questions but he was fucking you beyond stupid and you were too fucked out to question him.

his grip on the headboard is still as strong as it was before and he's going even harder on your poor body. you're raw and overstimulated, your pussy too tender to be able to take more of his vicious backshots and his ways of toying with you.

"b-baby... peter ! please ! peter, please i can't ! can't take anymore ! ahhh, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck ! please peter, can't cum anymore, pussy's too weak ! please !"

he's glaring down on you like you were some pathetic creature and keeps plowing into you, holding the headboard with one hand a'd basically slamming it into the wall. the bed is squeaking and you can hear the sound of wood ripping but he's going so hard on you, all you can do is roll your eyes to the back of you head and bite your lips until you bleed. he starts toying with your clit, twirling his fingers on it, rubbing it and rubbing your folds.

when you cum all around him he's smug but without even smiling. still very moody and very dominant.

"well, look at that. you keep saying that you can't take more but you're creaming all over my cock. pathetic. keep lying and i'll fuck you until your legs go numb."

you were crying in the sheets, begging for a divine intervention to give you a little rest. and the universe, being clement and always on time, decided to break the bed. it snapped under you in a loud sound that surprised you both.

peter watched the surprise on your face fade and turn into a relieved smile. absolutely fucking not.

"you think a broken bed's gonna stop me ?"

and there is the shock again. when he lifts you off the mattress, still balls deep in you, you squeal and hold onto him as tight as you can. he stands against a wall, pressing your back to it and whispering in your hear.

"the last thing you should be worried about is a broken bed. i'm not done with you until i say i am. the universe could send an helicopter flying through the room, i'll be done torturing that pussy when i decide it."

and there he goes again, and for at least two more rounds until you pass out of exhaustion. when you woke up he was nice again and a little worried for you. turns out, what you did was be a little too pretty through the window when he swung by. he saw you undress and dance naked with the blinds open and you teasing him never ended well. positive point was that he had apologized and now you were being cuddled and kissed all over.

"i'm sorry buttercup... i'm sorry, i love you... i love you and your pussy... and i'll fix the bed... and i'll massage your thighs too... i'm sorry... i love you baby... so, so, so much..."

you ended the night with a soft smile on your face, caressing him and trying to calm down his terrible temper. that spider bite did a number on his mood and the way he behaved.

[polite-nuissance]

Thinking about a pirate (played by Jermaine clement lol) flirting with Ed/having a history with Ed like calico jack but in a kind of nicer more realistic way and he sort of...fits? With Ed? And of course Stede notices and is all jealous and they fight (this is pre reunion but post stede rejoining the crew) and Ed says something like "what if he makes Ed happy!! Huh!!! What then Bonnet!!" And Stede has been furious and snippy, making all kinds of passive aggressive remarks, until Ed says that. And his face goes all stricken but he finally relents, eyes sad, and says like "well...if he makes Ed happy. Then who am I to be upset at that?" Ed thinks maybe Stede is saying he doesn't really like Ed anymore, not enough to fight for him, but then Stede kisses his cheek and says "You are my first and only true love. And if someone else can give you that happiness...far be it from me to stand in the way. I only want what's best for you, Edward." And Ed realize stede WANTS them back together just as badly as he does but is willing to let him go all for eds sake, and idk what comes next but probably crying and a "you dickhead you're the only one who could ever make Ed happy" and a "oh thank God I didnt want him to have you"

[evenmyhivemindisempty]

what’s one kink each Boyd boy specifically isn’t into?

Okay, I’ve included what I think below, but I am actually SO CURIOUS what the rest of y’all think!! Please let me know!!

Steve Murphy: Ooh exhibitionism for Steve. He shan’t be perceived! He finds the whole “sex” thing a little embarrassing as-is! He’s the sort that defaults to turning the lights off before he hops into bed! He does *not* want an audience.

Donald Pierce: This one was tricky!! The two things that immediately came to mind were slut-shaming and gang bangs, *but* I think there’s a place where Pierce can actually enjoy both of those, because he strikes me as someone who really does eroticize fear and shame. I think the actual no-no for him is gonna be free use. The concept is kind of hot, but the actuality wigs him out, and he finds he’s on edge the whole time, just waiting to be groped or fucked. It’s hard for him to relax around his partner, especially when he’s just looking for a cuddle!

Cap Hatfield: I HC Cap as someone who is really not crazy into receiving sexually at all, and I think forced orgasms would be his no go. If he does cum, he likes it to be on his own terms, at his own pace! Preferably alone!! That being said, Cap absolutely has some service top/stone butch vibes, so I can totally see him getting into being the giver in a forced orgasm scene!!

Clement Mansell: Oh, it’s gotta be degradation for Clement. He is so insecure and emotionally vulnerable - he spends half his time on screen begging the people around him for validation. Degradation (about *anything*) would absolutely devastate him. Girlies, let’s be real - it would *not* be hard to make Clement to cry in bed.

The Corinthian: This one was the hardest for me, because I figure there’s very few kinks the Corinthian wouldn’t be down to try! He’s got particular tastes and preferences, but he doesn’t strike me as anyone who has any hard no’s. BUT, I think the one that might actually set him off would be a sensation deprivation scene. He wants stimulation! Contact! Pleasure! Maybe pain!! Being deprived all that instead?? He is *not* into that. Especially if he’s left alone for a while - he’s an impatient nightmare!

Eli Klaber: Public humiliation for Klaber. He can get off on a little private humiliation, and he can absolutely get a thrill out of breaking a rule in public and having his partner firmly take his elbow and whisper in his ear that he’s gonna punish him for it once they’re home, but he does *not* want to be humiliated in front of others. He’s a good housewife, and if he screwed up, that’s for his husband to lovingly correct him in the privacy of their own home!

Ty Shaw: Chastity play! Ty actually does find it hot in theory, and he really get into dirty talking about it, but the reality of being put in a chastity device (or even just told not to touch his dick) is not very fun for him. He gets bored quick! He doesn’t find the anticipation sexy - it’s annoying! He’d like to jerk off!

Quinn McKenna: Any kind of edge play for Quinn. I HC that Quinn has a hard time getting into the right headspace for sex in general, and he’s not gonna be able to sink into it if he’s too busy worrying about risks and mortality statistics. Choking is off limits, and so is gunplay and cutting, and he won’t fuck bareback if his partner hasn’t been tested recently, either.