#i'm putting him in the cement mixer

[thawthebeez]

GIRL GET OUT OF MY HEAD

thinking about oikawa☹️

[kazzmatazzz]

my dad, completely unaware he's about to be hit with my hyperfixation beam: haha look it's a dodge challenger, what an ugly color tho

me, sleep deprived and thus incapable of not yapping: ...you wanna know who ELSE has a dodge challenger with ugly colors?

[bettyfrommars]

Santa Comes Once a Year

biker!eddie x fem!reader

I had a request from the amazing @idkidknemore for "biker Eddie dressed up as Santa, railing reader on his motorcycle sleigh" and I also wanted some Eddie as Santa action for the Holiday Prompt Party I am doing with @allthingsjoeq he is not a mall Santa in this, but still.

wc: 2.7k

18+ONLY, smut, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, talk of cheating (on Mrs. Claus), roleplay, creampie, fingering, bit of spanking, ton of cliche phrases, sexualizing Santa, secret sex I guess? but it's just pretend, semi-public sex if you squint.

summary: you go to the Lighted Farm Implement show for the first time with Robin and Oliver to see what Eddie and Steve have cooked up for the parade. Afterwards, Santa takes you back to his place in his towtruck sleigh and wants to give you some cream with your cookies.

author's note: This can absolutely be enjoyed as a smutty standalone, but some elements of I'm on Fire are mentioned, including Robin raising Steve's son Oliver with him since he was a baby, and the fact that biker Eddie runs his own towing/mechanic business.

This was your first time attending the night time Lighted Farm Implement parade in Hawkins, and you weren’t sure what that even meant until Robin explained it to you.

“You know, Farm Implements. They decorate them with Christmas lights and throw candy for the kids.”

For some reason, all you could picture were shovels and snippers dancing through the street like some magical Beauty and the Beast scene.

Robin’s cheeks were rosy and she had Oliver in her arms, a navy Columbia fleece zipped up to her chin.  Mother and son each had matching, fuzzy blue ear muffs on.  She noticed your confused expression as the three of you walked up the street from where you parked. 

“Tractors, backhoes, dumptrucks, cement mixers,” she gave a few examples and your face lit up in recognition.  “There will also be buses, a few 18-wheelers, and a tractor bed with the Mayor on it.”

The big, shiny black tow truck from Munson’s Garage was in the parade too, and you were curious to see what Eddie and the guys had done to it.  Your boyfriend had been asked to dress as one of the Santa’s that year, and you’d switched evenings at the Velvet Hammer with Jackie just so you could witness this miracle of the season, being that Eddie wasn’t a huge fan of Christmas. 

He mostly did it for Oliver, to see the wonder on his face when Santa knew his name, and that year specifically, he was doing it for you.  He wanted to impress you by being the star of the show.  

Everyone from town lined the streets and cheered as the Hawkins high school band trumpeted down the lane to officially begin the parade with cheerleaders punching pompoms in the air at the front. Robin put Oliver down and you all moved through the crowd to get closer to the action. .

 Behind the band was a green John Deere bulldozer all decked out in colorful bulbs and an arc of gingerbread people up the back.  The owner of the local grocer drove a 1945 Chevy truck with Christmas trees in the back and a person dressed like an elf in the passenger seat tossing out chocolate bars.  A few skidded close to Oliver and he lurched to grab them with an excited scream. 

Each vehicle had its own music playing, and the next yellow backhoe with a santa in the bucket and adorned with snowflake lights was blaring Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree by Brenda Lee.  They threw some lollipops out, and this time you rushed to snatch a few for Ollie so that he wouldn’t have to go too far out into the street.

You were distracted watching the mammoth equipment vehicle pass when you heard Oliver screech and point, “Daddy!”

Your head snapped and there was Eddie’s tow truck, blinking with what seemed like a billion white twinkle lights with a pine wreath on the grill, and a person hanging off the side of the truck dressed as…a goat? Or was it Father Time?

Oliver recognized Steve immediately, and when he spotted his son, he jumped down from the step up to the cab with a sack of candy in his hand and came jogging over.  As he got closer, you tried to make out his costume, but came up with nothing.  He was wearing his typical biker attire with his Coffin Kings leather cut on over a hooded sweatshirt and black jeans, but the faux beard he had on was long and thin down to his belly button, and it was gray, not white.  He wore sunglasses and a black fedora.

He ran to give Ollie the bag of candy while the tow truck rolled by at a snail pace.  

“Are you Biker Santa?” You asked, sneaking a look at the sexy Santa in a red hat behind the steering wheel of the tow who was waving to get your attention.  You blew Eddie a kiss and he made the gesture of catching it in the air.  

Steve held his arms out as he trotted backwards to get back on his ride.  “I’m one of the guys from ZZ Top!” He shouted, as if it should’ve been obvious.

You shared a look with Robin.  “Don’t ask,” she mumbled.  

They were towing a wrecked car behind them with what appeared to be four reindeer holding cans of beer, each hanging out a window.  The song Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer played cheekily from speakers that were mounted on the lift.  

All three of you cheered and screamed for the rest of the show, and by the time two clowns in tiny toy trucks brought up the rear, you felt a warm body press up against your backside and you tilted your head back into the squish of a white, fluffy beard.

“Ho ho ho,” Eddie whispered against the shell of your ear making your body tingle from the warmth of his breath.  “I hear you’re the naughtiest girl in town.”

He stepped away and tapped Ollie on the shoulder, taking on a deep, jolly voice.  “And who is this good little boy?”

Oliver had the white stem of a sucker sticking out of his mouth when he turned.  “Oh hi Uncle Eddie,” he managed, sucking back purple saliva.

Eddie straightened to full height, his eyes falling on Robin with a blink of sadness, but she only shrugged.  “He’s getting wise to the world, what can I say?”

You turned to melt into your boyfriend’s chest, feeling the bit of padding he had on his belly under the soft faux fur accents of his red velvet coat.  There was a little jingle bell on the end of his Santa hat, and you flicked it with your finger.  You pushed him back through the crowd, off to the sidewalk and into the shadows, making him back up as you went.

“So,” you made sure no one was around before you slid your hand between his legs.  “Is this the official Yule Log, or are you just happy to see me?”

You could barely find his mouth under the synthetic mustache, and then you giggled and sputtered on a stiff Santa hair.  

He yanked the beard down with a tug of his fist, stretching the elastic band that held it in place,  so that it was under his chin and pulled you in again, returning your kiss so deep that a small groan escaped you.  

“You wanna get out of here?” he said in a rush, and then he nudged your nose with his.  “Come sit in my sleigh with me?”

Steve was reunited with his family by then, with Oliver up on his shoulders, and you checked to see the three of them head off in the opposite direction, possibly to Robin’s car.  You were all planning to meet back up at their place to make cookies in an hour, so you had a window of time.

Back in the cab of the  tow truck that was parked down the street, Eddie pulled the pillow stuffing out from under his coat and flipped the heat on high, but it almost wasn’t needed because the makeout session that ensued made the windows fog up.  You took his hat and beard off and tossed them on the dash so that you could finally have your hands around that face that you loved so much, squirming to get closer to him.  He had his hair tied up in the back and you released the band so that his locks fell around his shoulders.  

“If I’d known this would get you going baby, I would’ve put the beard on earlier,” he huffed.

You flicked your tongue out to tease him a few times.  “I need you inside of me, Santa.  No one will know, it will be our secret,” and you were just about to kick your leg over to straddle his lap when you both realized that there were people walking right next to the vehicle on the sidewalk.  

“Let’s get out of here, Mistress,” Eddie kissed your cheek.  “Take this back to the garage, finish what we started.”

You sat back, giving him a raised brow as he shifted the monster vehicle into gear.  “Oh, you think I’m just going to give it up when and wherever you want?”

“I think you’ll do whatever I tell you to do,” he said over his shoulder, watching for traffic before pulling into the street.  “I’m Santa.”

—-----

You sat right next to him the whole way there, like lovers do, with his hand on your thigh.  He still had the wrecked car with the beer-guzzling reindeer statues inside, so he was careful on the turns, while festive bystanders honked and waved.

At the Munson Garage compound, Eddie thought he would unhook the wrecked car from the crane, but there wasn’t time for that—he could feel your arousal dampening your jeans.  Parking in the furthest garage would have to do.  

“Get over here, naughty girl,” he licked his lips and opened his Santa jacket to reveal two black suspenders over a white t-shirt, and then he undid the suspenders to move his hand down to fist himself.

Your boots were off and your jeans at your knees when the sight of the tip of his glistening pink tip freed from his wholesome attire made you pause to touch yourself, putting your back against the opposite door with your legs spread so he could watch.

It was dim in the roomy cab of the truck, but Eddie could still see the wet spot on your red underwear where you worked your fingers and he bit out a curse.

“You heard me,” his tone was stern.  “I said get that beautiful ass over here and sit on Santa’s cock.”  

You didn’t bother taking your underwear off as you kicked your jeans away and scrambled over, giggling when he pushed his red pants down a bit more to show the mistletoe print on his boxers.  Your head hit the roof of the cab, but then you were finally squatting in his lap, teeth hitting as you fumbled into position.

He was quick to reach down between the two of you and move your panties to the side so that he could rub his knuckle up and down your slippery clit.

He puffed out a chest full of air.  “Goddamn was it the beard or the whole thing?”

“Just you,” you lifted up, pushing his hair back to cup your hands on either side of his throat.  “I’ve been aching for you all night, Santa. Waiting for you to come down my chimney.”

Eddie shivered, reaching to line his tip up with you. “Why is this so hot, holy shit,” he chuckled softly.

But then he was inside of you, and you sank down an inch with a cry, arousal dripping down his length.

His mouth pressed into the side of yours. “Did you miss me all year? You want to be a bad girl for me now?”

“That’s why you come to my house, isn’t it Santa?” You gasped.  “Because you want to fuck me? I’m your favorite.”

Eddie hissed and threw his head back as you bottomed out.  You could feel the faux fur from the top of his pants ticking your taint.  “You know I always come back for you, because you take me so good, fuck—-” 

You rocked your hips, squeezing that important muscle as you went.  “Better than Mrs. Claus?”

Eddie gripped your ass and pulled your cheeks apart with his strong, calloused fingers, thrusting up to meet  you, smacking against your wetness.  “Better than anyone, fuck.  I dream about this all year.  Landing my sleigh in Hawkins so I can bury myself in your tight, wet cunt.”

You were both breathing heavy, sweat trickling down your necks, while a few snow flurries danced into the garage. 

You reached a hand down to work two fingers at your clit.  Every word you said was against his lips:  “I want some cream with my cookies, please Santa.”

“Yeah?” Eddie huffed, rolling his hips in his seat so that you could feel every inch of his cock, making you whine a string of obscenities.  “What else do you want, huh? You want me to fill you up all night, so my cream drips out of you on Christmas day?”

He spanked your asscheek with a thwack and you arched back.  “Yes Santa, please, ruin me so I only fuck myself to thoughts of you.”

“I’m about to cum,” Eddie breathed, and your mouths met in a frenzy of tongues and moans. He could feel you throb around him.  

“So soon, Santa?” You teased.

“Shhhhh,” he took hold of your throat and planted his booted feet to thrust up into, taking you for a ride.  

You put your forehead to his and bounced a few more times, and then you froze, mouth open in a silent scream as the wave began to crash.

“That’s my baby,” he held you in that position and continued to buck up to bury himself inside over and over.  “Cum for Santa, let me feel it.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you exploded around him, whimpering and twitching. 

The back of your heel kicked up and accidentally flipped a switch on the dash, making all of the Christmas lights on the truck blaze on, and Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer blared from the speakers.  

You clung to Eddie while he came, shuddering at how good it felt but also

In a few seconds, you were both grinning, shoulders bobbing with laughter as the song seemed to herald in your mutual releases.

The windows of the cab were completely fogged up, and between that and the music, neither of you heard anyone enter the garage until there was a bang on the driver’s side door.  

“What the—?” Eddie scowled, and you were already scampering off of him, snatching clothing from the floorboard to cover yourself.

Eddie tucked himself back into the huge wet spot on his pants and wiped condensation off of the glass so that he could see who it was.  He was about to be angry, thinking it was one of the other mechanics about to give him shit or try to get a peek at you

but it was Steve.

The truck was lifted and the windows up too high for him to see in, but still Eddie checked to make sure you were decent before he rolled the window down.  He leaned over to switch off the lights and the music.  You gave a nod as you wrapped your coat around your waist.  

“Hey,” Eddie wiped some hair out of his face, trying to act casual.  “What up? Everything okay?”

Steve had his long beard in his hand, hugging himself, shivering against the cold, with the fedora pulled snug to his ears.  “Did you forget you were going to give me a ride?  I just walked halfway across town. Slipped and fell on the fucking ice twice.”

Eddie dropped his forehead to his fist.  “Shit sorry man I—-why didn’t you go with Robin?”

“Because I told her I was riding back with you to unhook the rig,” Steve sounded annoyed, teeth chattering, and you didn’t blame him, but still you stifled a giggle into your arm. 

“Tried to call Astrid from a payphone, and she’s not answering, so now I’ve got blisters from these stupid elf boots that Robbie made me buy.”

Eddie pulled his lips in over his teeth to contain his amusement.

“It’s not funny, dude,” Steve said, but then he caught a glimpse of you in the cab and you gave an apologetic grimace.  “Oh okay, I get it. Forgiven. But can we get this shit over with so we can get out of here? Robin doesn’t know how to work an oven and she’ll probably burn the place down before we get there.”

Eddie stretched across the cab to kiss you.  “Stay in here, keep warm.  I’ll put the Chevelle around when we’re done.”

“Go help your ZZ Top elf, Kris Kringle,” you shoved him playfully, but then he held his face there and hummed until you kissed him again.

You pulled your jeans up, eager to keep Santa’s gift from spilling out.  

---------

I'm on Fire taglist:

@notsobubblybaby @unfocused81 @aysheashea @etherealglimmer@manicmagicmayhem @dream-a-little-nightmare@chaoticgood-munson @emxcast @rhirojo @bexreadstoomuch @micheledawn1975 @falling-solar-system@secretdryrose

@whatwedontdointheshadows @miarosso @seventhlevelofhell @corrodedcoffincumslut @lofaewrites @goldyghoul @chloe-6123 @kelsiegrin @chelebelletx @stylesxmunson @kurdtbean@dandelionnfluff @clincallyonline17 @tlclick73 @eddiemunson95 @sidthedollface2 @hideoutside @truffleshuffle12 @tenthmoon @texasblues@emilyslutface@mmunson86@onegirlmanytales@laylaloves-ed@dashingdeb16@eddiiiieeee @ick90 @dashingdeb16 @polyestermonster @trixyvixx @atomickaratel8dy @kiyastrf94 @allthingsjoeq @eddiesxangel @razzieth @corrodeddeadlydoll @erinekc @angietherose @sllooney @writinginthetwilight @moonbeamsandmayhem @brianamunson92 @joannamuns9n @bellalillyrose @alba8688 @chevelle724 @chaoticgood-munson

[angel-of-the-moons]

Okay so Tumblr deleted two asks I really wanted to do >=( but luckily I had screenshots! I plan on working on them when I snag some time to myself the upcoming weeks (which is usually in-between work, my dad, nephew and sleep, and between planning a trip we're supposed to be taking)

@spiderversewizard

I'm No Celine Dion

Pavitr x Singer!Reader

TW/CW: None, fluff, Pavitr being turned into a dumbstruck goober!

As with all my fics like this, Pavitr is an adult.

A/N: I can picture Reader singing this song (I prefer this version to the English one askskdksjl) but y'all can picture whatever you like!

🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷🪷

"So, I figured we can have some chicken tikka masala for dinner tonight, hm, Pavitr? Maybe some soan papdi?" Maya hummed to her nephew.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, Auntie, sure!" Pavitr chirped, adjusting his hold over the canvas bags full of groceries he was holding.

Maya smirked at her nephew with a chuckle, noticing him once again look over to a small crowd of people gathered, the sound of music bleeding through the throng of them.

"Oh, so curious." She teased, reaching out to poke Pavitr in his side, making him squeak in surprise and laugh; earning a deep chuckle from his aunt and the little old man running the fruit stand.

"I'm ticklish!" Pavitr pouts. "And besides! I'm curious to know what's going on!"

"Ah, some new street performer." The old man replies as Maya purchases some mangoes, "Been drawing a big crowd lately. Doesn't bother me, people standing for too long get hungry, and it brings them to us!" He laughs as he gestures to the other carts and street stalls. It was a typical street market that he and Maya went to; their prices were cheap and their wares were always top notch!

Pavitr noticed the man wasn't wrong, the market was busier than usual, many of them breaking off from the audience to look at wares (judging by how some of them looked and acted they were tourists to Mumbattan) and go back to listen to whoever was playing and singing.

It surprised him that nobody thought of putting up a little performance here sooner!

"Come on then," Maya chuckled at her nephew, taking one of the bags into her own hands, plopping the juicy mangoes into it. "Let's go see what the fuss is about!"

Pavitr laughed along with his aunt and squeezed in between the gap of the people gathered, uttering "excuse me's" and "pardon me's" every time he thought he was being rude.

"Hey, watch it!" One rather grumpy fellow grunted as Pavitr squeaked by.

"Sorry!" He mumbled awkwardly, his face flushed a little bit. "I was just--"

His eyes blinked wide, his jaw dropping a little bit when his eyes landed on you.

You, who was singing into a microphone mounted to the music mixer you were using to create the beats, occasionally hitting a few soft keys as you softly and sweetly sang the song you played.

Pavitr stared, transfixed, his jaw slack as he watched you bob your head, eyes closed as you lost yourself in the melody.

You were amazing!

He looked down and saw the little sign you had at your feet;

Inside the bin attached to the sign was mostly spare change, a few crumpled small notes here and there, and for some reason, some candy. Honestly! Your singing was amazing! How on earth were people walking by and just tossing coins?

'Any little thing helps! :)'

Beneath that little sentence was an "@" to your socials, promoting your music.

Such is the life of a street performer, he supposed...

Maya cleared her throat just loud enough for Pavitr to hear and she nudged him with her elbow, giving him a knowing smirk and handing some money over to him. It was certainly more than what you've earned thus far, and surely you would appreciate it!

Pavitr set the bags down at Maya's feet and sheepishly made his way to your donation bin; his feet feeling like cement as he walked up to you. He felt clumsy; awkward. Almost like he was getting in the way of the show as he dropped the money in.

As he pulled back, he looked up and saw you smiling at him as you sang, your eyes glimmering joyfully.

Pavitr felt his heart lurch in his chest and his face heat up when you winked at him, continuing to sing without missing a beat.

He gave you what he hoped was a charming smile--but in reality he probably looked like he was in pain--before scurrying back to the anonymity of the crowd, picking the grocery bags back up.

His auntie Maya simply chuckled and smirked at her awkward nephew, watching him from the corner of her eyes as he continued to watch you perform.

For the rest of your set, you never broke eye contact with him, grateful at such a nice donation (and secretly amused that his aunt seemed to be silently teasing him). By the end of it, Pavitr had memorized your socials, hoping later he could find more of your music and... and then what? Ugh, he was so dumb!

As your performance came to a close and you thanked the crowd; you began to pack up as the crowd dispersed, parting like the waters as they went about their days.

Except for Maya and Pavitr.

Maya had smiled at you warmly, "You have a lovely voice!" she complimented.

"Thank you." You laugh softly, tucking your equipment back into their cases.

"I'm sure the market appreciates your presence, as well. It's typically so empty, here." She replies.

"Oh, actually that's what I was going for!" You chirp honestly. "Kind of a symbiotic relationship, if you will."

"Ooh, a good head for business sense, I see." She chuckles.

"I s'pose." You grin at her.

You notice (but pretend not to) how Maya not-so-subtly elbows Pavitr, raising her eyebrows and tipping her head at you.

It takes him a second to get the hint, and that makes you want to giggle, but he eventually finds his voice and awkwardly stumbles through a compliment.

"Oh! Y-yeah, I liked the song you sang! It was... Eh... Uh... Pretty..?"

Maya rolls her eyes and sighs at her hopeless nephew, almost wanting to facepalm.

"Thank you." You smile at him sweetly as you stand up straight, hoisting some of your equipment over your shoulder and taking the handle of the largest case in one hand.

"And thank you for the donation! It's appreciated, for sure. This money helps me maintain my equipment."

His face flushed as he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, "Oh! Uh, yeah! For sure! I mean, wait--like, I mean you're... welcome?"

"Oh, for the..." Maya sighs, shaking her hand and pressing a finger to her temple. She recovers quickly however, and looks at Pavitr, her eyes glimmering mischievously.

"Ah... Are you new here?"

"Yep! Moved here a couple of weeks ago." You say to her, tilting your head a bit; almost like one of those cute puppies Pavitr loves so much.

"Then that means you also don't know the best spots! Tourists go nuts for people like you, singing the way you do." She replies civilly. "If you don't mind my suggested my nephew, Pavitr, here knows almost every nook and cranny in Mumbattan!"

Maya bumps Pavitr playfully as his face gets darker and darker with embarrassment and shock. "In-between work and feeding the street pups, he could show you around!"

"I--uh--auntie--" Pavitr blubbers. You seem to pick up on his apparent discomfort.

"Oh... Really? I mean, uh... are you sure? If he's not comfortable...." You trail.

"I can do it!" He blurts out, barely letting you finish your sentence; immediately biting his tongue afterwards in embarrassment.

You jump back a little at his outburst, a lopsided and surprised grin on your oh so soft looking lips as he claps a hand over his mouth, then awkwardly tugging the collar of his shirt to the side.

"That is, uh... I mean... If you are comfortable with it, sure!"

"Haha... Sure. I'd very much appreciate it." You reply.

Maya looks at Pavitr with an "innocent" smile, "Why don't you add her on one of your... app thingies? It will be easier to communicate, that way."

Pavitr shoots his auntie a barely-concealed, panicked look in his eyes before trying to grin in what he hoped was a casual manner. "Sure, I can do that!" He says, pulling out his phone and tapping one of your socials in. He immediately sends a smiley face and a puppy emoji to you, his soul cringing at the horrible start to a convo.

You chuckle and show the message to him when your phone chimes, "This is you, hm?"

"Y-yep!" He laughs.

"Cool! I'll text you later when I plan on heading out somewhere!" You reply to him innocently.

Maya loops her arm around her nephews elbow and chuckles, "Have a nice day, dear."

"You too!" You grin brightly, waving at them as you part ways, Maya having to practically drag Pavitr along with her.

"Auntie, why did you--?!" He sputtered, his brain finally kicking back into operating parameters.

"You're welcome." She smirked.

Well...

At least now he had a reason to talk to you!

A part of him wondered...

How did you feel about superheroes? You didn't know it yet, but you were about to run into Spider-Man more often than most people, too...

[bugmomwrites]

29 Sugawara Headcanons but they gradually get more unhinged

My fave turns 29 today (it's still technically the 13th here) and this is what I'm doing with my time instead of yardwork or algebra homework. Happy birthday to the OG setter and king of chaos himself. There are some time-skip spoilers in here, references to drinking, smoking, and generally just getting into trouble. Hope you guys like it.

Floating around on the internet somewhere is a video of him at Tanaka and Kiyoko's wedding, dancing on a table and knocking the intricate centerpiece over. Nishinoya, the best man, is behind the camera laughing as his upperclassman nearly goes tumbling down a couple times over the blaring music.

He gets a pet and either names it after some random object like “cement mixer” or “armpit” or he gives it a human name like “Gregory”. Complains about his day to them like they're a little person like "That bitch Patrice stole my parking spot this morning...I know right?!"

Has one of those “women want me fish fear me” caps, and wears it proudly.

Has used Asahi to be able to take part in the “kids eat free” promotions at local chain restaurants. Is Sugawara bummed that most of his underclassmen are taller than him? Sure. Does it mean he gets free food when his close friend looks like a grown ass man with a mortgage? Absolutely.

Probably drives a little white mom van hybrid (maybe a Subaru or Prius). It has a bumper sticker that says “HONK IF YOU LOVE MILFS”

Plays with his kids at recess, but when someone starts to get cocky during Four Square or some other game, that Setter Sleeper Agent TM comes out and he has no issue spiking the rubber ball towards the little shit in question to knock them down a few pegs.

Will make the weirdest food combos, and get offended if you question him. What do you MEAN marshmallow fluff doesn’t go with pickles and shredded cheese??? Shame on you.

Some people say they “listen to all kinds of music”, but very few actually mean it. Sugawara is one of those people. You will hear Nikki Minaj, the monsters inc theme, commercial jingles from the 90’s-2000’s, all back to back. It’s enough to give anyone whiplash, and that’s exactly what he’s going for.

Suga didn’t always love extra spicy food, at least not as much as he does now. It started as a way to protect his leftovers from a hungry Daichi. Armed with nothing but a bottle of hot sauce, he eventually found the sweet spot of too spicy for his captain, but not so spicy that it wasn’t enjoyable.

After Kageyama arrived, demoting him, Sugawara found little moments of joy in shoplifting from Ukai’s store. Made awkward eye contact with Nishinoya as he was shoveling spicy chips into his school bag, worried about being caught red handed until his junior gleefully opened his jacket to reveal an unholy amount of popsicles lining the inside. A mutual understanding was made that day. Gave a few to Kageyama as an olive branch, but when Ukai recognized the packaging as the specific snack that keeps disappearing without payment, the poor guy is framed right then and there.

Sneaks into hotels and gyms to use amenities. Who cares if the pool says members only, a little confidence goes a long way.

Went to use the tennis courts, and the back of his shorts say “public enemy number one” in sparkly lettering. Some middle aged guy tried to argue with him and instead of hearing him out, he wordlessly hit the ball into his groin, with perfect aim.

Road rage but it comes out in the form of speeding and cutting people off instead of screaming out the window. But you can definitely hear him grumbling curses now and then.

Not too afraid of getting pulled over, most of the time it’s Daichi anyway. And even when it’s not, he calls him up and begs him to tell his coworker to “reconsider”.

Puts Bill Nye on the projector every Friday for his class so he can sleep at his desk, but sometimes does Kahoot! when he has more energy. Encourages the kids to come up with wild names, giving out prizes not just for highest score, but wildest shit on the board. May or may not be where he got inspiration for his cat's name.

Got on the good side of a lot of PTA moms, sometimes they have him over for dinner. Gets a bit silly after 2-3 glasses of wine though. Don't give him the nuclear codes.

Because lips are looser on nights like those, he has all the dirt on everyone. Not above blackmail if push ever comes to shove. Sure, he won't tell your husband about that affair you mentioned to the ladies over dinner- if you give him your famous cheesecake recipe, that is.

I like to think he orchestrated a fight club in his earlier years and that’s how he’s able to punch so hard.

His Twitter acc is apeshit, likes to make a game out of how quickly he can get famous people to block him. Collects them like Pokémon cards and laughs about it to his friends. Has a "hit list" except it's just which celebrity he wants to piss off next.

Also posted a video of him taking a fat bong rip, and tagged Daichi (a literal cop) before setting his phone to do not disturb.

In high school after having to play against what was probably the most unsportsmanlike team they've encountered, it was Suga’s idea to prank them with a few of his teammates. They got caught about 20 minutes in when Daichi went looking for Hinata and caught him red handed with his arms full of eggs, toilet paper rolls, and the guiltiest look on his face.

You know that cross eyed thing Pennywise from the movie It does, that turned out to not be cgi but a very real trick actor Bill Skarsgård pulled on set? Sugawara can do that too, scared the shit out of his teammates and other schools with it. Even their coach is unsettled.

The 3rd years went to a haunted house at one point after graduation, and then stopped for lunch somewhere. Daichi left to go get a couple beers for everyone, and, because the whole thing was Suga’s idea, tried to sneak up behind him when he came back. Instead of scream though, he clocked him in the face out of reflex, making Daichi drop the tray. Asahi is frantically trying to apologize to the waitress through tears for the mess of beer, blood and glass, Daichi is holding a bloody nose, and Sugawara is going red from trying not to laugh. They get their pictures taken and end up on a board that says DO NOT SERVE.

Vodka in coffee mugs have gotten him through the day on more than one occasion.

Puts his mugshot on Christmas cards, has it hung up in his house in a nice frame. Gifted one to all his friends that year. Many were horrified, some laughed, and one of them told him to hang tight while they got his gift- a mugshot of their own as well (it was probably Nishinoya).

Since his birthday is in June, when he was a kid his family was able to celebrate outside in the beautiful weather. His 15th fell on a Saturday, so they were able to have a much bigger celebration. Unfortunately, that year his older cousin brought her new boyfriend to the family barbecue, and he did NOT pass the vibe check. Maybe it was the speedo, or the douche-y attitude, but one minute Suga was grabbing the hot metal spatula off the grill, and the next thing the guy knew, there was a nasty burn mark branded onto his left ass cheek.

Skipped practice one day to look after his sick little brother, but instead of making soup and taking temperatures, they spent the whole evening playing Minecraft. Everyone is wondering where the hell their setter is, as the two of them lose track of time between building castles and fighting the wonder dragon. It wasn’t until it got dark outside and their mom came home before he realized he forgot to text the group chat. 

When it’s time for the DARE program at his school, he’s thrilled to see Daichi again, and constantly tries to distract him as he and a few other cops are trying to explain the dangers of drugs. He pretends to nod along and take everything in, like he doesn’t smoke pot every other week.

Was asked to babysit his nephew last minute, much to the relief of his brother. This would be very short lived though- a few hours later, he’s on tiktok and fretted with a clip of his older brother yeeting a slice of Kraft cheese at his son’s face. 

[sparrow-orion-writes]

I'm loving the amount of flash fiction Friday prompts that I can link to CS lately. This is apparently how this book will get written.

@flashfictionfridayofficial I love a little more White/Aspen interaction.

He stood in the meadows with the sun beating down upon his pale skin. The tall grass danced around him, what remained among the ashes at least. It had to admit, it could see the appeal. In the carnage that lingered so prettily on the pale white skin, the vengeance in his eyes. There was so much power in the demon. It could imagine why humans threw themselves to his feet, to the grasp of Wrath. The bloodstained flowers wept delicately, clamoring for water in the heat. Aspen could do nothing for their pain, as much as it could do for its family, when Wrath had come for them. "You." "Me." "A bad penny has less of a habit of cropping up nearly as often." "I see you got my message." Aspen sighed, as if the scorched ground could ever be interpreted as anything else. As anyone else. Not even the immortal had this much of a taste for pain. "And what is the message, White?" Demon or not, Aspen was still feykind. Names still had power. "The boundaries between the grounds are breaking open, Aspen, you're running out of time." He said its name with joyful venom, like a debt collector arriving at the house of a particularly wealthy person. "You know what you must do - who you must see." The immortal. "I've no interest in gambling with Pride." "They've always been rather interested in gambling with you, quite literally if I recall." "Do you use your many years to simply collect gossip?" "Only the parts that interest me." White raised the limp body of a grass nymph to his mouth and bit down, canines separating head from body with ease. The sound help all the crunch and wetness of a cement mixer turning. A piece of the poor thing's flesh stayed stuck between the two rows of teeth, dangling grotesquely. "After this is finished, White," Aspen uttered absently "...we will put you back in your tomb, make no mistake, your carnage has no place here." "And yet," White spat a bone on the floor, his many voices curling against Aspen's ears with the force of an alarm "...here I am, no longer imprisoned, and why? Well, we could blame dear Fair, couldn't we, but we know that it was human greed that put me back here, and believe me, my sweet little imp - they adore me." Aspen ground its teeth hard enough for its gums to ache. "They adore a false promise you exasperate, their fear consumes them and you promise a life without it - that is not adoration, that is..." it trailed off, shaking its head "...that is whatever oil is to a lit match."

[pinkiepiebones]

10 renfield

–to get them to talk.

(this is *barely* connected to the prompt, I'm sorry)

-

It had been a bad relationship. That's all Robert would say for a long time.

Johnathan really liked Robert. Hell, he loved him. He wasn't afraid to say it. Why was it such a big deal to admit you loved someone? They had been seeing each other exclusively for six months. They were talking about serious things like adopting a cat together (Robert texted: "We live in two separate places, how would cat custody work?" Johnathan texted: "We could move in together." Robert texted: "😲❗️" Johnathan texted: "Am I being too forward again? 😘").

But Robert wouldn't really open up about his whole past.

Of course, Johnathan knew a bit. He knew Dracula was involved.

"Like... Dracula Dracula?" he had asked after a moment of silence. "With the-" he made a gesture to his mouth, "-fangs?"

God, that had been a wild day. It was their fifth date. Robert's volatile ex-cop friend, Rebecca, had been there, because she had been there, with Robert, when Dracula died. Robert and Rebecca had killed Dracula. They chopped him up, shot him, chainsawed him, poured poison on the parts, stuck parts of him in a blender, put all of him into a cement mixer with a jug of holy water, made the slurry into little cubes, and dumped the cubes into the greater New Orleans sewer system.

"Or, at least, we gave him a lot to think about," Robert said apprehensively. "I mean, I saw him come back from some crazy shit. He genuinely might not be dead. Just very... out of sorts."

They were two years past the point of Dracula's death, and six months into their relationship. Robert had learned to relax around Johnathan, to not flinch at touch. Love is patient, love is kind, blah blah blah.

"Hey." Johnathan was up and getting dressed when he saw Robert stirring.

"Hey," Robert answered, blinking in the sunlight. "You have to leave?"

"Yeah, work emailed. I gotta run soon."

"You want breakfast? I can get up and make something-" Johnathan shook his head and moved to stand at Robert's side of the bed. "I'm good, I'm good."

"But I'd be better..." He leaned down and kissed Robert's lips. "... if you'd talk to me."

Robert raised his eyebrows and sat up.

"You talk in your sleep, babe," Johnathan explained with a smile. "Lot of Dracula talk last night."

"O-oh."

Robert folded his legs, knees to chest, and Johnathan sat on the bed. "You were in love with him, huh?"

His boyfriend made a noncommittal noise and Johnathan leaned over to kiss him again. Robert smiled against the kiss. He turned his head and sighed.

"Yeah. For a long time. Definitely a decade, maybe longer. There was a fairly, um, it was a nice honeymoon phase after he made me his familiar." He chuckled, still looking away. "I've been trying to figure out how to talk to you about this shit, but this exact scenario, us in bed, wasn't something I imagined."

Johnathan smirked. "Technically, you're the only one in bed. I'm on the bed." He shrugged. "And I wish you didn't feel like you had to work up to stuff with me. I'll listen, whenever you wanna talk." He checked his watch. " 'cept right now, I gotta run."

Johnathan kissed Robert and stood, made his way to the door.

He had the door open and was about to step out when he called back in to the apartment, "If it makes you feel any better, my last long relationship was with a werewolf. We got supernatural men in common! Bye!"

Robert blinked.

"Wait, what?"

[goatpaste]

the worst thing about joseph is that his theme goes so fucking hard compared to whatever the hell he is

Hdidfjek fair! Joseph's theme really is one of the best not including the villian themes especially the pillar men

And p2 has one of my fav anime openings.

I love joseph but he's literally the worst I'm putting in him in the cement mixer

[purplekoop]

I feel like the Tank role for a few reasons is the one I'm the most paranoid about for War Bots.

First is just the individual character kit designs in a vacuum. Navea is the one I feel the most confident about: standard minigun, basic defensive ability to get through enemy sightlines safely, and a team buff ability charged up by dealing damage. Good basis for the most damage-oriented but not necessarily most hyper-aggressive tank of the cast. Can push in or hold the line but not a defensive core by herself. Then there's Harmony, who was a struggle to put a kit together for because her main team support ability is so abstract. It's a neat idea but in practice I don't know how intuitive to use, play alongside, or fight against it would be. A tank who takes damage on behalf of her team but can self heal it off by damaging enemies is a cool concept but it really does need the right kind of weapon to bring it all together and I don't know if I have the right idea for that yet. Making her melee-focused feels out of line thematically and more importantly might be overbearing mechanically. She doesn't really have a way to get in but once she's in, there's not much stopping her as most characters who can't really out-damage her self healing and basic health. There's probably a horrendously raunchy way to phrase that interaction but I'll behave myself for now. A more mid-ranged weapon would feel more appropriate, and I (just now) got some ideas, but I'd like to iterate on them a bit more first. I think if her weapon is less polarizing, then her anti-projectile blast and her other defensive ability should be fine. Then there's the problem child, or rather the problem centuries-old construction turtle. Formann's kit kind of feels like theme over function where he doesn't really have an identity mechanically aside from "puts a shield down", which is... a very boring thing to base a character on. I think a basic barrier-deploying character can work, but he needs more than that. Aesthetically he's awesome: he's a giant robot turtle made out of construction vehicle pieces, like a cement mixer gun for one hand and a wrecking ball sling for another. Problem is that these other abilities don't really fit together. I don't really know what his wrecking arm does aside from break enemy buildings, but it feels redundant with him having two other attacks using his cement gun. That gun also doesn't feel too inspired either, just firing a shotgun spread of blobs or a single arcing shot. Both of which have a slowing effect on hit, which... fits the role but also doesn't sound especially engaging or enjoyable. I'm stirring up some ideas in my head for an overhaul (maybe trading the cement mixer for some other kind of liquid-to-solid building material of a slightly warmer variety) that'd hopefully make his decision-making process more interesting, and likely more in-line with his fellow construction cohorts. The last yet-to-be-seen Tank is a work in progress, and while I have a version of his kit I think I like, I'm not sure how cohesive it is overall. The goal is to have a high-mobility tank who's not as much of a team anchor, but still has some defensive utility that isn't entirely selfish while not too overbearing to work with

The other problem is that I'm anxious about how the whole role will work in a game with 10 players per team, no role limits, and a less strict character limit than one of each per team, if any. I don't know if having a variety of such (relatively) massive tanky characters would work in general in this context, either being too easily overwhelmed or too strong against uncoordinated smaller players. Again, it's a tough balancing act of making them fun to play as, with, and against.

Maybe I'm overthinking this though, and no joke I've talked myself into weapon reworks and no other major changes to Formann and Harmony in the process of talking through my issues with how they are now, so I might be able to solidify those soon. Slight pun not intended for Formann's new weapon.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

yeah hi we're doing this again because I had fun last night. yeehaw.

Gotham 4x10

another tasteful depiction of mental illness courtesy of Gotham!

The Batman (2022) was actually ripping off this episode of Gotham when it used Ave Maria

less than four minutes in and we've already got one (1) character who's a.) a scary mentally ill person and b.) a scary Black person and c.) a DEAD Black person all in one. god I hate this show

OH NO NOT RIDDLER BANGS

Pyg claiming that he "terrified the city for months" when he was in like three episodes has me in shambles what the fuck is the timeline of this show

guys I'm really sorry I don't have a lot of funny goofgoof commentary for this one but this is actually just a pretty tight ep for Gotham. like not a single plotline makes me want to put my head in a cement mixer that's pretty big here

Jimbles really just ordered one of his cops to escort a woman all the way to FLORIDA surely you can't make an employee do that with no notice

damn I guess Oswald's a dad now fr

arguably THEE cuntiest thing Oswald has ever said or done I LOVE this for him. and he's not even lying his parents actually did love him. what a FLEX.

oh okay oswald is super duper NOT a father actually. jesus christ in heaven.

oh okay yes he is I guess. the whiplash in this episode is crazy. but either way the kid is leaving so. but god man this little freak just can't stop caring about people no matter how much it gets used against him I'm emo

spoke too soon about there not being any plotlines that make me want to put my head in a cement mixer because THE EVIL HALLUCINATORY REFLECTION RIDDLER IS BACK god damn it ALL

can I not know one day of peace

[billdecker]

Okay, so I've just finished this total horror of a book and here is how it goes. Buckle up...

So Kelsey goes to Portugal to start work on the villa where she makes friends with a girl called Ines who works for Marshall. Marshall has been silent for days so she parties with Ines and then Marshall turns up at the hotel and is like 'WHERE WERE YOU??'

So he takes her out for lunch at a restaurant in the countryside where Kelsey pulls her face at piri piri chicken because it's spicey, and then Marshall puts to her that they actually DO get married FOR REAL. He's like, 'I'm sick of dating all of these random women!! I need a woman to organise social events! I need a woman in my bed! And I want it to be you!'

He tells her she can still have a job and her own bank account (THANKS MARSHALL) and her own life but she must act like his wife and give him babies. And Kelsey is like ,'Lemme think about it.'

Instead of taking her back to the hotel he takes her to a bar of a friend of his who helped him to find the villa. They have a bbq and the friend's wife gives Kelsey a fertility doll which she finds deeply offensive and wants to smash on Marshall's range rover.

The next day they go to the villa to look over the work. The site manager Pires is there with his entire family - two kids and a pregnant wife. There's a cement mixer there as Marshall is having a pool dug. And then, suddenly...

THE BREAK FAILS ON THE CEMENT MIXER AND IT GOES HURTLING TOWARDS THE TWO SMALL CHILDREN!

Marshall leaps in front of it and pushes them into the hole where the pool is, and the cement mixer falls on top of them. The kids and dragged out and then finally Marshall. Kelsey is sobbing and FAINTS at the site of him covered in cement.

She accepts his marriage proposal for real, knowing that he will never love her back but she loves him and after he almost died via cement mixer, she can't be without him in his life even if he is just using her for hot sex and hot dinners.

Kelsey wants to know more about him when he reveals that he's actually an orphan, and that he's named Marshall because a western was on TV when his little baby self was dumped and the nurses spelt marshal wrong.

So they come back to London and plan a Christmas wedding. And on the night before the wedding, Kelsey gets a phone call from Jade who is like 'you're just a virgin and whenever he goes out anywhere, you'll always wonder if he's with me, who is hot in bed and very sexy!!!' And she puts down the phone and Kelsey can't sleep.

Anyway, they get married, and she has pearls threaded through her hair which sounds very uncomfortable. They leave the reception to go to a little hotel where Kelsey is nervous about the wedding night and when he asks her, she tells him about Jade. And Marshall is all, 'WHY DO YOU BELIEVE HER AND NOT ME??' And he storms out on his wedding night and doesn't come back and it starts to snow. Kelsey is very annoyed her see-through nightie has gone to waste and she goes to sleep.

Marshall wakes her up and he's looking frozen from the snow so Kelsey insists on running him a bath. He strips off, but he can't unfasten his belt buckle so Kelsey has to do it and he reveals his stiffy before he gets into the bath.

Then he gets out of the bath and they have hot married sex, and then he tells her about his life. He confesses that he's wanted her since she was FOURTEEN YEARS OLD and that he was just biding his time and hoping. He tells her about his dead wife Laura. He hasn't trusted women because of Laura. it turned out she used him and only married him to make a boyfriend jealous and after they married she ran off with the boyfriend to Greece. Marshall followed them and was like, 'You're dead to me,' and then a few hours later THEY WERE DEAD because they fell off a cliff.

Kelsey is like, 'Oh Marshall, your life is so sad and I love you so much.' And he slaps her arse and calls her a wench, and he never says I love you back, and that's the end of the story.

The Mills & Boon book I'm reading, Gentle Savage, continues to be incredible. Here's what's happened so far...

At 17, Kelsey is kissed by her father's friend and business associate Marshall (I know, ew), who is in his mid-20s and constantly calls her honey-bee (yet another ewwww) then fast forward four years and it's the eve of her 21st birthday and Marshall is randomly taking her out for dinner.

Kelsey works at an interior design place in London and is constantly sexually harrassed by the boss's son, Greg, who has ever proposed to her. Anyway, so Kelsey goes to dinner with Marshall where they eat some weird fish and almond on lettuce concoction, and there are many ladies there with their dates who are staring at them because he's dated them ALL. He is the most man is have ever men'd. Before dessert they go for a slow dance and. they're joined on the dancefloor by a woman named Jade and her partner Kent. Jade is all up at Marshall and being spiteful but flirting, and then he reveals that Jade is actually married to Kent and, basically, Kent get your wife the fuck away from here before I punch you (yes, he is that dramatic).

The following day is Kelsey's 21st birthday party and Greg is there, drunk, and he's telling everyone from their company that they've been seeing each other so to save Kelsey from SOCIAL RUIN (this book was written in 1993, not 1953), Marshall suggests a fake engagement because Kelsey's dead dad would want him to save her. Kelsey is a spikey young lady and she's not taking any of Marshall's shit. Greg tries to get all gross with her again but Marshall saves her and they announce the engagement and Greg drives off in his sports car.

To also save Kelsey from COMPLETE AND UTTER SOCIAL RUIN FOR SAYING NO TO GREG, Marshall is giving her a job to renovate a villa in Portugal he has just treated himself to. That means she'll get to live over there for six months so by the time she returns she can call off the engagement by saying he's a total cad and people will feel sorry for her because apparently everyone hates him just as much as she does.

The day after that, Marshall turns up to take Kelsey out for a drive and she spots a wedding and she's like, 'Let's watch!!!! The bride is so pretty!!!!!' So they stop and Marshall is suddenly VERY SAD. Turns out he just loves and leaves the ladies as he does with his big masculine prowess because he OBVIOUSLY HAS A DEAD WIFE. We do not yet know what his wife Laura died of, but the bride looks just like her and he is SAD.

He says he's taking Kesley for afternoon tea and they rock up at this manor house but it's not a country hotel like he told Kelsey but his HOME. And he's not a cold, hard headed brute at all, because HE LOVES AND ADOPTS ORPHANED DOGS, and has an old couple called the Rooks living with him who work for him.

By this point they have shared several kisses and Kelsey has realised she is in love with this man, who is only ever described as dark and sardonic, and she is absolutely desperate to bang the absolute life out of him. This is where I've got up to but when I've finished I'll update, but I'll leave you with this amazing quote describing one of their kisses.

'...he was completely still and then his arms went around her, drawing her to him as his mouth plundered hers. His kiss was violent in its intensity, a fierce hot hunger seeming to take hold of him, ripping the veneer of civilisation away in a second of time.'

[abbyfmc]

Yandere Sculptor! x Wife! Reader:

No one has asked me. This came as an idea of ​​mine from my second book of yandere things.

Yandere: Raymond (One of my Oc's).

Warning: Mention of kidnapping and killing. The images is not mine.

*Narrator PO.V*

There was recently a case of a disappearance of a 30-year-old woman. Her name was (y/n) (y/ln) Sanchez, and she was the wife of the young sculptor of the town, who was about 34 years old, Raymond Sánchez. It is said that Mr. Raymond is very distressed and desperate for her disappearance, because according to the town, they were the "perfect couple".

Too bad nobody knows the background of all this.

NO ONE knows that she is no longer human.

NO ONE knows where she really is.

She was in the basement of the museum with the statues of Raymond Sánchez. She was Ray's most beautiful and gleaming creation. So much so that she couldn't let any other human being see or touch her.

--Oh honey. Forgive me for being late, honey-- He kissed her lips while gently holding her chin and then stopped kissing her and smiled like a lover.

--God, you are so beautiful and pretty, I love you so much, so much that I would hate for others to see you-- He ran his gloved hands through the hair of his silent wife, who followed him with her eyes, apparently not very happy with her husband.

--What's wrong my love? Why are you looking at me like that?-- His wife didn't respond, she just continued to watch, since it was the only thing she could do since her fatal accident at the cement factory that Raymond manages, with that accident hushed up.

--Forgive me for not being able to save you in time when you came to visit me that time, I already told you that I tried everything to get you back!-- She had gone to visit him at the cement factory and other materials for his statues, and after passing through one of the upper floors that, when looking out, gave a view of the large cement mixer where she slipped and unfortunately fell into the large mixer where she died due to the machine being turned on, and although Raymond tried to turn it off and rescue her, it was too late.

For this reason, he decided to use that same cement and sculpt a statue in his image and likeness, however, he quickly realized that the statue of his wife was not an ordinary statue, since he followed him with his eyes, his expressions changed from very limited way and sometimes tears could be seen falling from the eyes of the statue.

--I'm the only one who knows the truth of everything, calm down. No one else knows what really happened-- He looked for a cloth on one of the basement shelves to clean a little the face of the beautiful statue of his wife, which he verified was still alive, but with many limitations in itself, such as not being able to move her entire body or speak.

--No one knows how much I loved you to make you my most beautiful statue-- He proceeded to touch up certain areas of her with paint, such as her cheeks and her hair. But still, she looked at him with indescribable hatred.

Well, she thinks he pushed her into the machine.

She thinks he turned her into it on purpose.

--Done, I already touched you. My love, I know you're angry about that day, but seriously forgive me, you're so cute and beautiful that you even make me go crazy, that's why I couldn't let you leave my side, so I made you my statue most beautiful and perfect-- He put his paints aside and kissed her lips, while she looked at him with disgust. Too bad she was made of stone, so Raymond can't have sex with her as much as he wanted to.

He was happy having her only for himself, while she feels trapped inside a body that is not hers, inside a prison where it is impossible for her to breathe again.

From a prison she wishes to be free.

-The End.

[destiny-moonforge]

22, 24 for ask meme?

22- do you trust captain avery?

i don't think even he wants us to fully trust him. what are you, an honest pirate? hah!

he's like your weird uncle that will mess with you all the time with the expectation that you mess with him back. (and will occasionally put the target on your back for the map to el dorado. still mad about that. #milk.) 24- would you make any improvements to the story? (fill any plotholes?) if we're gonna be filling plotholes we're gonna need a goddamned cement mixer because there are SO many things i would change or try to fix. obviously there's aquila and valencia part 2 which i feel like... go without saying?

but since i feel like spreading magnificent 7 propaganda- why do we work SO HARD to PUT THEM BACK TOGETHER only to SHATTER THEM all over again???? either we take them ALL or we take NONE of them case CLOSED its a STUPID choice narratively they dont even TALK over the course of the actual pirate story so it wouldnt MEAN MUCH IF THEY WERENT THERE BECAUSE THATS BASICALLY THE WHOLE ENTIRE EFFECT OF THINGS and i UNDERSTAND!!! that pirate has a big cast!!! so why teeter on the line... at least they're So Unimportant To The Main Plot after their arc in tumbleweed that i'm 100% free to ignore it and do my own thing. not that i wouldn't have anyways. i don't know. i could write an essay on how much they parallel one another and how that's why they belong together or an essay on how deep down buffalo bill really DID want to come back to the 7 but i'm sure you don't want to hear that here LOL

[nikanndros]

I just want you to know that I think about From Eden at least once a week and I've lost count of how many times I've reread it. If you ever wanna share what comes next amd what other ideas you had for that universe i'm here to listen op 👀

Thank you, I love you! When I first wrote that fic, I had two other parts (at least) that I wanted to go with it, and since they’re partially written I’m happy to share those bits with you:

From Eden Part 2

“It’s just unfair, you know,” the girl said. Her words were slightly slurred. To be fair, they were in a nightclub after midnight. Everyone was slurring. “I was there for him, and I paid his bills while he went through college and now! He has a real job and he dumped me for his secretary.” She started sobbing.

Damen, who was six foot three, strongly built, and also carrying a loaded weapon, took her hands and made a sympathetic noise. “Lykaios,” he said, because he --unlike Laurent-- had actually listened when she’d introduced herself. “I think the best thing for you now is to forget about him. He didn’t deserve you.”

Lykaios sniffled. “You think so?”

“Of course I do,” Damen said. “I’ve only known you for a few minutes and I already can see that you’re incredible. Right, babe?”

“Right,” Laurent deadpanned. He glanced at his watch. “It’s quarter to.”

Damen nodded. Still holding Lykaios’ hands, he turned to Laurent. “Security?”

“Just the two.”

“Great.” He looked back to Lykaois. “Listen, doll, we’ve got to get down to business, but I want you to remember what I said, okay? You’re worth a lot more than that guy gave you.  And your mascara is running a little. Maybe you should go fix it up in the bathroom and wipe your tears?”

“Okay,” Lykaois sniffed. “Thank you.” She left.

Damen gave Laurent a grin, the crooked, teeth-baring one that appeared whenever they were about to do a job. “Ready?”

“You never call me doll.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Try it sometime and see.”

Damen yanked him in by the jacket and kissed him, slowly and bordering on indecent. “Alright,” he said, after he pulled back. “Show time.”

As Damen disappeared into the crowd, Laurent grasped his --still full-- drink, turned, and threw its contents at the roughest looking guy in the place.

“Hey, what the hell?” The guy squared his shoulders; he was intimidating even covered in lemonade.

“Fuck you,” Laurent replied. 

At this point, three months of travelling and stealing and, most importantly, Damen, Laurent had become pretty efficient at inciting fights. He didn’t need to see the punch coming to know that it was, he just sidestepped and let the man stumble into the back of another patron. It took less than thirty seconds before half the clientele were involved in an all out brawl.

The two security guards rushed in, and were immediately overwhelmed enough that the only bartender -- a youngish lad with a crooked nose -- had to join in to get everything under control. Laurent punched him.

Eventually, the fight got calmed down enough for fingers to point to Laurent and the lemonade clad man as the inciters, and guards hauled them both out into the parking lot.

“Let me go!” Lemonade guy yelled. “I’ll fucking kill him.”

“You can try,” Laurent said, a lot more willing to be subdued by the guard that had him by the arms.

“Don’t make us call the police, man,” his guard complained. “The both of you can go your separate ways, come on.”

The door behind them opened. 

“Sweetheart,” Damen said, chidingly. “I step away for two minutes and you get yourself into trouble.”

---

They go back to a motel after this and Damen reveals the money he stole from the tills while Laurent was being a distraction. Sexy times ensue. Damen eventually falls asleep and Laurent stays awake with the tv on. The news comes on and an interview is shown with Lykaios being interviewed about the robbery at the bar -- she gives a completely inaccurate description of what Damen looked like, and Laurent reflects on how easy it is for Damen to charm people to taking his side.

From Eden Part 3

Their most recent car was a much older model. The aircon was busted and they had to wind down the windows themselves, but at least the radio worked. It was hot, despite it being a couple of hours past sunset. 

Damen was singing with the radio. He wasn’t going to win any awards, but his voice was deep and he had a nice enough sense of the music. He grinned at Laurent. He was always happy. It was part of what made him so magnetic. 

Laurent smiled back. After two years with Damen, the expression felt natural.

Except for them, the road was empty. Damen reached over and took Laurent’s hand in his. 

“Watch the road,” Laurent said.

Damen laughed. “But you’re my favourite view.”

“I won’t be happy if you kill us in a car wreck.”

Obediently, Damen looked back to the road. And then, because it was Damen, the car sped up.

Laurent’s hair flew about chaotically, longer than it had ever been when his uncle had been keeping a hand of Laurent’s appearance. It needed a trim, but as much as Laurent trusted Damen, he didn’t trust him to do that. Damen had offered to take him to a salon, somewhere quiet where there was no chance he’d be recognised, but Laurent wasn’t fond of the idea of being trapped in a chair like that. He was too used to freedom by now.

-

“Left here,” Laurent instructed.

They’d had to slow down once the got near the town. It was best to avoid anyone’s attention for as long as possible. (An admittedly difficult feat when traveling with someone like Damen).

They drove a little way past the house, until they found an obscure little dirt road to park down. It wouldn’t do for someone to see the car. They grabbed their things, and looped back to the house on foot.

Quietly, Damen was still singing. 

“Stop it,” Laurent said.

“You love it,” he replied. “This is your birthday present, baby, at least look like you’re having fun.”

“This is literally the worst place we could get caught.”

“No it isn’t,” Damen replied. “I checked out the police station last time I was here. Breaking out of the cells would be too easy.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“There were no lights on when we drove by. No one is home.”

That was true. And they’d timed it perfectly, assuming schedules hadn’t changed in the last two years. The house was silent when they got to it, not a light in sight as promised.

Laurent took a deep breath.

“Chin up,” Damen said. “Let’s go rob your uncle.”

-

The spare key wasn’t where uncle used to keep it, so they went around the back and Damen fucked with the lock until it opened. It was almost hard to walk into the house, full of so many bad memories, except it had never truly been Laurent’s home and he could just tell himself this was another job. 

“The study,” Laurent said, leading the way.

They crept up the stairs together, torches on their lowest settings.

The study was a formidable room with the big, mahogany desk, and the shelves of books that existed solely to make visitors feel stupid. “Look at this,” Laurent said, pulling out one of the books. “War and Peace in Russian. He doesn’t even know Russian.”

Damen reached past him, and nonchalantly, tipped a stack of books off the shelf. They clattered noisily onto the floor. “Oops,” Damen said. He turned away. “Where’s the safe?”

“Under the desk,” Laurent replied. He was busy searching through the books, finding any early editions to pilfer. They’d probably be able to sell them to an antique store for a bit of quick cash. 

Damen worked away at the safe for a bit, guessing potential codes Laurent had told him about. “None of these are working, sweetheart.” The safe made a beeping noise. “Oh, wait. Got it. Wow, he really deserves to be robbed.”

“I’m sure he thought I’d never come back here.”

Damen made a vaguely angry noise. He didn’t like reminders of what had happened to Laurent in this house. He’d even tried to convince Laurent that they could just murder his uncle while they were here. Laurent wasn’t sure he wanted to add cold-blooded murder to their repertoire just yet though. However tempting.

Damen stood up, suddenly. Hands full of Laurent’s uncle’s emergency cash. He grinned.

“Happy birthday - to - you,” he crooned.

Laurent couldn’t help it. He laughed. “I love you, you beautiful fucking bastard.” 

Abandoning the books, Laurent moved in and kissed him. Carefully, Damen put the money down on the desk so that he could cup Laurent’s face in his hands. It was always intoxicating to kiss Damen. There was something about him that made Laurent forget himself until there was only the press of their lips.

“I love you too,” Damen whispered, pulling back a little. He’d stopped smiling; it was a moment of complete genuine emotion. He did that sometimes, always out of the blue, and it always made Laurent want to clutch him tighter and maybe cry. 

“Let’s finish up here,” Laurent said, “and then we can go find somewhere nice and fuck under the stars.”

“You always know just what to say to seduce me,” Damen said.

They bagged the money, and the books Laurent had picked, and then they made their way down the stairs again.

“Wait,” Damen said.

“What?”

“I’m hungry.” He turned into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Oh hey, chocolate.”

Actually, that was an idea. Laurent followed him into the kitchen and went straight for the pretentious temperature controlled wine fridge. “Pinot noir or Shiraz?”

“Whatever is more expensive,” Damen replied. He was adding strawberries and oranges to the bag as well. Cream?”

“It’ll go warm too fast.”

“I feel like we should unplug the fridge before we go, at least,” Damen added. “If you’re still against me putting bleach in the milk.”

“Wouldn’t that make it curdle?”

Damen shrugged. “I don’t know. I had a cement mixer in a bar once but that was lime juice.”

“You can unplug the fridge. If he dies from food poisoning, that’s on him.”

Damen started to look for the cord to the fridge.

“Wait,” Laurent whispered. “Did you hear that?”

They froze, listening.

There it was. The soft sound of the stairs creaking. Fuck. Silently, Laurent gestured towards the back door. Damen nodded. He was carefully reaching over to the knife stand.

“Renaud?” came a small voice.

A young boy, no more than thirteen, stepped into the kitchen. He was wiping at one eye sleepily in a childlike gesture. Less childlike were the bruises on his arms. Laurent knew he and Damen had matching expressions of horror.

The boy’s eyes widened as he took them in. “Who are you?” he said.

Damen’s expression was one of barely concealed fury. He looked at Laurent. “I’m not leaving until that man is in a shallow grave.”

“Don’t scare the boy,” Laurent admonished. He turned to the child and tried to look as non-intimidating as a late-night home invader could possibly look. “What’s your name?”

“Are you Renaud’s friends?” The boy asked.

“No,” Laurent said. “Definitely not. I’m Laurent.”

The boy was frowning. “You used to live here.” 

“Yes.”

“Well,” he straightened up, suddenly hostile. “You’re not allowed to come back. He doesn’t want you anymore; I’m better.”

“Where are your parents?” Damen asked.

“We’re not giving him back to parents who-”

“They’re dead,” the boy said. He didn’t sound upset.

--

The boy is obviously Nicaise. They hear a car in the driveway and Laurent locks Nicaise in the pantry. Laurent’s protective instinct rears up and he insists they kill the uncle now. Damen is fully down for it. Murder ensues. They let Nicaise out and keep him away from finding out that the uncle is dead in the next room. They tell Nicaise to pack a back and discuss what to do with him. Damen suggests dropping him off at a hospital or somewhere like that where someone can get help for him (since they can’t exactly go to the cops). 

Nicaise overhears and says that he doesn’t want to have a new foster parent; at least his current one has a big house. Laurent hearing that feels too wary to risk Nicaise getting another bad household. Damen is like, well I guess we can keep him if you want??? Laurent agrees. They go get in the car and drive away. 

-

Anyway this AU was directly inspired by the film clip for Hozier’s ‘From Eden’, you should watch it bc that’s the story I intended to write 

[queen-of-writing-bad-things]

BBC Worzel Gummidge x Reader (2019) S1: Episode 1: The Scarecrow of Scatterbrook ~ Part 3

The four took the shortest route to the museum and dashed across the lawn, (y/n) making sure that her chocolate lab stayed close to her side. The whole place was crawling with builders and workmen since the museum was being refurbished and it meant that they had to be extra sneaky.

Working their way through the planks of wood and cement mixers scattered around the entrance, they peeked around the corner to see two men carrying plasterboard into the building.

"Oh, no." John breathed out, thinking that with the work going on, they had no chance of sneaking Worzel and (y/n) in unseen, but his sister had a different opinion.

"No, this might be good, less people around." She countered and Worzel could see what she was thinking. "You're right, I got a plan. You two go in and make a nuisance of yourselves." He instructed them and luckily, that was what they did best.

"Take Honey with you. If I remember correctly, Aunt Sally doesn't like dirty, flea-riddled mutts." (y/n) growled as she remembered her last encounter with the wooden woman and how she had made the mistake of taking her old sheepdog in with her. It didn't go down very well, to say the least.

The children grinned at the prospect of causing chaos and the young woman whistled for the dog to follow them and they disappeared into the building. With them gone, Worzel leaned past (y/n) and picked up two hard hats, offering her one as he straightened up.

"Oh, I get it, cleverclogs." She grinned and put the yellow helmet on her head so she'd look like any other builder and Worzel chuckled as he saw the realisation grow in her eyes. Now, they just needed to grab a board and wander in like they owned the place.

"Hello? I'm closed, I'm afraid.  For refurbishment, didn't you see the sign?" The woman at the reception desk said to Susan and John, just as the scarecrow and woman walked past, both holding an end of a board which was helping to mask their identities.

"No. What's this a museum of?" John asked the receptionist, him and his sister shuffling along the counter so their bodies would help to shield the two as they snuck in. It was a huge success and Worzel and (y/n) were able to carry the board (and thankfully not see anyone else) all the way to the back room. This was where all the displays had been put for storage and they crept in apprehensively.

It was dark, dusty and rather creepy, especially since they knew that Aunt. Sally was lurking around somewhere. They carefully walked through and came to a statue that was shrouded with a protective white sheet and Worzel couldn't help but look under it.

"Oh, my goodness. I do beg your pardon." He gasped when he saw that it was of a naked lady and even though it was just painted clay, he still felt embarrassed and rude for intruding on someone's privacy.

"It's just a statue, Worzel. Calm down." She giggled at his super polite apology and they carried on navigating through the antiques and trinkets surrounding them.

"Hello? Aunt Sally? Is that you?" Worzel called out to a shrouded figure that looked like it could be her and (y/n) peered over his shoulder. They were so focused on the object, which turned out to be a vase when (y/n) yanked the sheet from the pedestal, that neither of them noticed how the real, disdained Aunt Sally was wheeling herself up to them.

"Don't drop it!" (y/n) hissed to him when the vase wobbled, no doubt being priceless since it was in the museum. Worzel got it to balance again and they both let a sigh of relief, which turned into a gasp of horror when they turned around to see his aunt looking down her nose at them.

"Aunt Sally? It's me, Worzel." The scarecrow introduced himself as (y/n) clutched his shoulders and shyly hid behind his back. Gosh, she had forgotten how terrifying that stare was.

"I don't know anyone called Worzel." She hissed, making him swallow nervously before clarifying further. "Your nephew, Worzel."

"I don't have a nephew." She eyed him harshly, showing no love or affection for him, despite their family connection. "Oh, Auntie. Don't be like that. I'm sorry I haven't been to visit since I last brought (y/n) here to see you. You remember my (y/n), don't you, Auntie?" Worzel brought the girl out from behind him, subjecting her to the analytical gaze of his aunt.

"Nice to see you again, Lady Sally." She mumbled, remembering how she liked the title last time and the little curtsey she threw in. She tried her best to be polite, but not even her best manners could force the uppity lady to crack a smile.

"Hmmm, so you've grown up. And still talking to scarecrows, how...quaint." She spat, her wheels squeaking as she began to circle the pair like she was the hunter and they were her prey. She took in Worzel's appearance and immediately picked out several things she didn't like, which started the invasive questioning.

"Huh! Stand up straight. You're very thin. Are you ill?" She asked, making the scarecrow look down at himself to see what she was referring to. He thought he looked okay and he felt fine, rather splendid, in fact. "No."

"Have you got a girlfriend?" Another question and this time it made Worzel feel very awkward. Dare he admit that he had someone in mind,  even if he was certain she'd never feel the same way and that it would never work? They were too different and that broke his heart, metaphorically speaking. "Um..."

"Tuck your shirt in!" She hissed, pointing to her nephew's crumpled jacket, which made him shuffle awkwardly from foot to foot.

"And you, girl. Do you still have that fleabag of yours?" Aunt Sally huffed, making a shiver go down (y/n)'s spine. She had no idea why she had to be interrogated too. "Uh, I have two now." She mumbled as Aunt Sally came to stand moodily in front of them, obviously not liking the sound of more dogs running around the village.

"And, do you have a husband?" The wooden woman pressed further, feeling repulsed when she saw the minute glance the girl sent to her nephew and how her breathing quickened. Oh, dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. He should've known better.

"No, I'm...it's...it's complicated." She squeaked, wanting a hole to open up and swallow her before she died of embarrassment. It was stupid, the way she felt and for a long time, she had thought that it was just the passing fancy of a young girl, but then it wouldn't go away, so now, she was left burying every scrap of love she felt for the scarecrow next to her. They were too different, and that broke her heart.

Worzel had seen enough and was determined to save the shepherdess from his aunt's sharp tongue, even if he had to be the one to take the bullet. "Auntie, I'm thin because I'm made of sticks, it's none of your business whether I got a girlfriend or no, and I can't tuck my shirt in because I aren't wearing one. Please listen, I need your help." He begged her, drawing her attention with his needy tone.

"There's something wrong with the weather. Something's up. I tied a knot in my hanky to remind me to fix it, but I forgot how. Do you know what's going on?" He asked her, making the old woman purse her lips.

"You mean why are the seasons locked?" She prompted, making Worzel frown and (y/n) perk up. That sounded exactly like their problem and would explain why everything had stopped growing and changing. "Are they?"

"Are they?, he asks. Isn't it obvious? We're stuck in mid-summer and nothing's moving on." She exclaimed and her nephew realised that she had hit the nail on the head perfectly.

"Muddy boots!" He exclaimed, unable to help the scarecrow swear word that slipped out. It made (y/n) giggle, but Aunt Sally wasn't so pleased. "Language." She scolded him, making Worzel cover his mouth.

"You're right. The seasons are all locked up, just as they were that long, cold winter." He. muttered, making (y/n) look up at him in worry.

"So that's why my lambs have stopped growing? And why my uncle is losing it because the harvest isn't anywhere near ready?" She asked him,  making him close his hands around hers to stop her from worry, a move that wasn't ignored by Aunt Sally.

"What do I do? How do I unlock them?" He asked his aunt, desperate to help his friend earn her living for this year so she could stay with him in Scatterbrook. "To unlock something, you need a key." She replied, making Worzel pat down his pockets.

"I aren't got a key." He admitted, making the fairground attraction tut. It was something she had come to expect from her good-for-nothing nephew.

"Lost it, of course. Why am I not surprised?" She hissed, looking up and down at Worzel with disgust. How he was her nephew was unknown to her; he was just so...uncouth.

"I don't think I ever had a key," Worzel told his auntie, trying to defend himself, but she just kept cutting him down. "You always were a flighty-by-night." She chastised him with the silliest insult (y/n) had ever heard.

"A what?" She chuckled, but her amusement soon died when the menacing glare was sent her way. "A dilly-dally-doodler." Aunt Sally went on and even Worzel was struggling to understand her. "Pardon?"

"A Jack-me-which-me-where-me-what." She snapped,  prompting Worzel to just spit out what he desperately needed to know before he exploded.

"Where do we find the key and what do I do with it?" He asked, (y/n) nodding earnestly. They need to solve this riddle before it was too late and the entire village reached a crisis point.

"You seem to forget, Worzel. I'm not a scarecrow, I'm an Aunt Sally. I don't understand your scarecrow hocus pocus. I stayed very well away on that night." The wooden woman said sharply,  making the two perk up. So, it was the scarecrows that helped last time.

"Wait, so, you do remember?" (y/n) asked, probably a little too excitedly and loudly for the prissy lady, but she said nothing, just gave her another mean glare.

"Yes, girl. Whenever scarecrows gather, there's bound to be trouble.  A scarecrow gathering always ends in pandemonium." She waved her arm dismissively, disliking the idea of more wretched, country heathens crawling around the village, but she sparked something in her nephew with her words.

"A gathering. That's it! I need the other scarecrows. One of them will have the key." He nodded, fitting everything together in his head. He didn't have the whole picture, but at least he had a plan.

"You'll have to hurry. If they're not here by harvest moon, it'll have to wait another month." She warned them, making (y/n) grasp Worzel's arm in worry.

"We don't have another month. The lambs have to go to market by next week at the latest." She told him, feeling shakey at the thought of not making her deadline.

"Harvest moon, of course. Oh, my hat, that's tomorrow." He patted her hand reassuringly and looked up to see his Aunt eyeing the gesture carefully. Foolish boy, it would only end in tears, especially if the Green Man found out.

"Aunt Sally, you are a wonder." He ignored the sharp gaze and the fluttering he felt throughout his wooden body, he just wanted to praise his auntie like she deserved, not that she liked it. "Don't be soft." She grumbled, repulsing at the idea of affection.

"You are. You're a Duchess." He laid it on thick, not caring if he sounded a bit soppy, it was true. Aunt Sally had really saved their skins. "I have to dash, but I'll come back and visit." He promised her.

"Ooh, and we'll bring you a present. What do you need?" (y/n) asked her warmly and judging by her worn appearance, Worzel knew exactly what she would like. "Bin tin of varnish!...Muah!" He gave her a peck on the cheek, which she stiffly accepted.

"Aunt Sally, you are..." He spread his arms wide, trying to convey the enormity of his gratitude, but he'd forgotten that he was surrounded by artefacts and antiques, so his arm wilding swung out and bashed against the old vase, sending it crashing to the floor.

"Priceless." (y/n) breathed out in a small voice as they cringed at the sound. Good lord, that'll be a pain to glue back together. "Worzel, someone will have heard that." (y/n) gasped as she heard rapid footsteps approaching the back room and the scarecrow curled his hand around hers.

"Good guff, you're right. Cheerio, Aunt Sally." Worzel quickly waved his wooden aunt goodbye and pulled (y/n) away so they could slink away through the other exit. They peeked into the reception area and saw that Susan, John and Honeysuckle were alone. The receptionist must have gone to investigate the breaking noise and that gave them the perfect opportunity to run out the door, but not before John exchanged two pounds for a bookmark.

~

They had made a clean getaway and found safety on a deserted country lane that would lead them to where Worzel wanted to go.

"What did she say? Did she remember?" Susan panted as they slowed down, Honeysuckle keeping up her fast pace so she could chase a rabbit down the lane.

"The seasons are locked. I should've guessed, there's been no rain for weeks, but the corn's still lush and green and (y/n)'s lambs are healthy but still young." Worzel told them, kicking himself for not recognising the signs.

"What do you do?" John asked, praying that there was something they could do about it so they could save Scatterbrook Farm.

"Well, there's a key to unlock them. I'll have to send a message to the Scarecrows of Albion. I'll have to journey to The Tree of Tree." Worzel said dramatically and looked out into the distance with misty eyes, but no one had any idea what he was on about. Not even (y/n) and she was used to the scarecrow's mysterious ways. "The what of what, pardon?"

"There's a tree, an ancient tree. Every breeze and every breath of wind passes through that tree on the way to wherever it needs to go. They calls it...the Tree of Tree." He explained, once again trying to seem all mystical and magical, but Susan was having a hard time getting over the rubbish name. "That's what it's called?" She asked sceptically.

"Yep." Worzel nodded, showing that he wasn't joking or anything, so now, they just needed to get to it. "Where is it?" John questioned, thinking that such a noble tree couldn't be in the middle of the town.

"Far, far away." The scarecrow told them, making them dread that it was in another country or the other side of England or something. "Please tell me, it's not over the sea." (y/n) groaned, knowing that they didn't have the time, nor the money to go traipsing off like that. Her aunt would go spare.

"Not that far, my dear," Worzel reassured her, making her blush slightly at the term of endearment. 'Silly girl, pull yourself together.' She grumbled to herself and snapped out of it just in time to hear John make another suggestion.

"Scotland." He guessed, which was also too far away for them to make it, even if it was part of the same country. "Not that far, no." Again, Worzel shook his head, making Susan smile. This didn't sound too bad after all.

"A train journey away?" She suggested and everyone was relieved and yet slightly disappointed to hear the actual distance of this magic tree. "You could probably walk it."

"So not quite far, far away then." (y/n) teased him, making the scarecrow grow grumpy. "Yeah, but it doesn't sound so mysterious, does it? To say that there's this really magical tree really close by." He grumbled, but it soon wore off when she smiled at his grouchy frown.

"Where is it exactly?" asked John, who wanted to just get to the tree rather than stand around and natter all day.

"Supermarket car park on Umsdale Road," Worzel answered and (y/n) knew the place where he meant. It was the slightly more urban side of the village and a place she didn't visit often since all dogs had to put on leads there.

"Let's go." She whistled for Honeysuckle and the four turned around to walk up the lane. and towards where this tree of salvation would be.

~

Obviously, they had to sneak around the back and shimmy through a gap in the bushes. The front of the supermarket was crawling with shoppers and staff, so it was just safer to lead Worzel and the kids around the back. As per the rules, Honey was on her lead, something that seemed to make her sad and moody since she wasn't allowed to run around and sniff on her accord, but honestly, that was a good thing in such a busy place.

"Remind me again how this tree, in a supermarket car park, is going to help," Susan asked Worzel as they crossed the empty parking bays. At least this area was quiet, but they had to remain vigilant.

"I tell my message to the tree and the tree sends it off, whispering on the breezes and ringing in the rain until all have heard who needs to hear...oh dear." Worzel's expression grew dark as they walked up to the tree they needed, which, to his dismay, was strewn with plastic bags. "Is this it?" (y/n) asked gently, seeing the way he was looking at the tree with a pained expression.

"Oh, aye, this is her. The Tree of Tree. One of the three Trees of Tree. She don't look well." The scarecrow frowned and Susan wondered what could be so wrong that it made Worzel look like that. "What's wrong?"

"Well, look at her. She's all clogged up with jellyfish." He said mistakenly, not being very familiar. with man's inventions and how they were often thrown away without any due care. "Those aren't jellyfish, they're plastic bags." John corrected him, not that Worzel cared.

"Look the same to me. Look the same to turtles too when they end up in the oceans. I don't see what's wrong with a basket, meself. Least they can't fly." He retorted, not caring what anyone said. Plastic bags were a menace to the environment he swore to protect.

"Well...how can we clear it? Can you climb it?" Susan asked trying to jump up to a low-hanging branch but her fingertips were miles away. The tree was huge and the trunk was far too wide for any human to shimmy up.

"With these limbs? I'd be inextricably tangled before you could say, "Actually, Gummidge, perhaps this wasn't such a good idea." Worzel replied, seeing no way for himself getting up there either, but (y/n)'s brainstorm meant they wouldn't have to.

"Wait a minute. You can talk to the birds." She breathed out at Worzel, who wholeheartedly agreed. That was one of his many talents. "Affirmative."

"Well, then, ask the crows if they'll clear the bags out of the tree." She told him. She knew that he was sworn enemies with all crows and that he took offence with such a suggestion, but there was no other solution, not that Worzel saw it that way. "What you do that for?" He looked at her with a hurt expression.

"What?" She asked puzzled, trying to keep her gaze on him as Honey pulled at the lead. "Slap me round the face?" His bottom lip wobbled and she realised that he was just being a baby.

"You know I didn't." She rolled her eyes as Worzel kept sulking. Talking to the crows, even the notion!

"Felt like somebody just slapped me round the face. Are you, me best mate, suggestin' that I, Worzel Gummidge, the Scarecrow of Scatterbrook, make a deal with the crows?" He whined, making her and Susan cross their arms. Surely, it wasn't that big of a deal. "Can't you just call a truce for one day?" The girl asked.

"I'd sooner strike a deal with the spadgers. I aren't got no beef with the spadgers." He grumbled, confusing the kids with his old-fashioned country talk. "What are spadgers? John knitted his eyebrows together. Nope, he'd definitely never heard of them.

"Little brown jobs," Worzel answered, closing his forefinger and thumb into the rough size of the bird he was on about. "Sparrows?" Susan suggested, remembering how Mr Braithwaite mentioned the species before. "That's what I said." The scarecrow replied, much to (y/n)'s irritation.

"No, sparrows are too small and there aren't enough of them. It would take them ages and I don't have ages. I need to sell my lambs so my family and I can afford to live. The crows would rip all of these bags out of the tree in no time." (y/n) sniffed, trying not to let her stress get to her, but the scarecrow could see that this meant the world to her and he hated to be the one who upset her.

"Make a deal with me archenemies." He mumbled, dreading the idea, but agreeing deep down that it was what they had to do. "You know it makes sense, so swallow your pride and speak to the crows," Susan ordered him, making Worzel shuffle from foot to foot before he decided on what to do.

"Where's Winter George?" He asked suddenly, looking around the trees for his little feather friend, whom Susan and John hadn't had the pleasure of meeting yet. "Who's Winter George?" They asked and Worzel began to make a chirping noise like he was calling out for someone.

A robin landed on his shoulder and to the kid's shock, they began to have a conversation in what they could only describe as "bird" and halfway through, the robin started stomping around like he was mad about something.

"I know. I'm not happy about it either, but (y/n) and these chillens reckon it's the only way. You go and tell 'em now. Tell the rooks, tell the crows what I said, we'll be up presently." Worzel gave Winter George his instructions on off he flew, ready to tell the crows that a scarecrow. wanted to treaty with them on a nearby football pitch.

~

Well, this was Wrozel's worst nightmare. The entire green was swarming with crows and he didn't know whether to scare them or be intimidated. Honeysuckle was itching to be let loose on the birds, feeling a chase creeping up and down her spine, but (y/n) wisely kept her restrained. They were here to make a deal and scaring them wouldn't help that.

"I might...I'm gonna stay here, guard the gate." John gulped, not liking the look of so many agitated crows in one place, even if he wasn't their enemy. A group of crows isn't called a murder for nothing.

"Good plan." Worzel nodded as (y/n) and Susan squashed down their fear and the four stepped out onto the field. It was nice having a powerful labrador with them, but even Honey would be outnumbered by this lot if something went wrong.

"All right, which one of you is the spokescrow? Who am I dealing with?" Worzel asked the murder as they gathered in front of him and one of the larger crows squawked a reply. The girls were just hoping that both the scarecrow and his enemy could keep civil tongues.

"Evening. Bred any good rooks lately?" He joked to break the ice, but it fell flat and the crows just stared at him quietly and blankly. Even (y/n) and Susan weren't impressed, so Worzel decided to just get on with it.

"Tough crowd. All right. I knows I've scared you in the past, and I will again, to be sure. I know I've called you a feathered plague and wished you all electrified on the telegraph wires." Oh. dear, Worzel really wasn't good at this PR lark and everything he said upset the birds even more.

"Worzel, be careful, you're annoying them and they're making Honeysuckle get mad too."  (y/n). groaned, trying to hold back her dog as she pulled against the leash. The young woman had to dig her heels into the grass and hold on with all her strength before they had a feathery bloodbath on their hands, but the scarecrow wouldn't listen.

"I know I've called your mothers bandy-legged ostriches and your dads a bunch of penguins. But...but! I want you to forget about all of that and do us a favour...Why not? I did ask nicely! I did say please! I'm not saying it again cos I've already said it!" Well, that went down like a lead balloon. The crows took great offence with Worzel's rude expectation that they'd just forget his insults and help out, causing a great ruckus that Susan wanted to solve.

"Can I...? Worzel...can I speak to them? I think you're being a bit..." She didn't quite know how to phrase it, since she knew that situation was already delicate. "What Susan is saying is...you need to flatter them a bit." (y/n) told him, making the scarecrow huff.

"Good luck with that." He scoffed, but let her step forward anyway since he was sure that. the pig-headed crows would listen to no one, especially not a human child. "Calm down and you, stop sulking." (y/n) whispered to Worzel as she bent down to rub Honey's neck soothingly, helping the dog and her best friend to chill.

"Um, hello. I'm Susan. Nice to meet you." The girl told the spokescrow politely, but it just squawked back harshly and judging by Worzel's snort, it was something quite insulting. "What did it say?" She asked him in an unimpressed tone. Honestly, she was just trying to be nice and when Worzel shook his head, she knew that it was too rude to repeat.

"Look, I know that Worzel has scared you over the years, but that's what he's made for, he can't help it. And what we're asking for will benefit us all. It will benefit the whole world." Susan told. the birds, but they just squawked back. "Says it's not enough. Says they want paying." Worzel translated.

"Paying with what? What could crows want?" (y/n) looked at the birds with a weirded-out expression, which turned into horror when Worzel told them their asking price. "Guns." He said, making the girls splutter and it was about to get even worse.

"And cash. Guns and cash. Can I just say, I don't think that would be wise? Rooks with guns, potentially dangerous." The scarecrow advised, fearing what his life would turn into if his nemeses were armed.

"Look, we don't have any guns and even if we did, be serious. Come on, something we can actually get." Susan crossed her arms and this time, she was given a more sensible and achievable answer. "Bag of grain."

"Okay. That's more like it. Can we do that?" Susan looked at (y/n), the one with the actual money and means to get hold of what the crows wanted since she was a farmer and everything.

"There's no grain until the harvest comes, so they'll have to wait until the seasons unlock and the job is done to get paid." She shrugged, which seemed to settle the argument, but the spokescrow wanted to see if they could squeeze this a bit more.

"And a chainsaw," Worzel added, making the young woman bite her lip and clench her fist around the Honeysuckle's lead. "Don't push it, I've got a dog." She noted and the canine growled at the crows, who took off before they could be insulted anymore or eaten.

"All right, you maniacs! Get off! Get lost! Wah, get away with you! You'll get your bag of grain." Worzel hissed at the birds as they deliberately swarmed the three as they took off, making them squirm as their faces were beaten by wings. Still, the crows kept their word and flew off in the direction of the Tree of Tree, where they immediately got to work.

Each crow played their own part, plucking the hundreds of bags from where they had snagged in the tree branches. With so many working together, it took mere minutes for the birds to take away the bags and deposit them into the recycling bins at the back of the supermarket. Their efficiency even impressed Worzel, not that he would ever admit it. Before his very eyes, the tree was free of all plastic and she was left there standing in all her beauty.

"Would you look at that?  They've only bloomin' done it! Was that my idea?" Worzel gasped as the group dashed up to the tree and (y/n) was so happy to see the excited gleam in his eye, that she didn't even care if he nabbed her plan. "If you like." She told him softly and the kids left him to walk up to the tree so he could give it his message.

The wind suddenly picked up as his fingertips brushed against the bark and he didn't even have to think about what he needed to say. "Send to all scarecrows a wake-up alarm. Tell them to gather at Scatterbrook Farm. The seasons are locked, we're missing the key. If one of you's got it, then bring it to me. Up roots, hurry westward, all will be revealed, by the light of the full moon in Ten Acre Field." He finished and stepped back when the entire car park was blasted with a strong breeze. His message was off on the wind, gathering every scarecrow that needed to know.

[justlooking1995]

Hi there, may I please get a shufflemancy reading? Regarding this guy, A, I told him I had feelings for him when I was drunk and I haven't talked to him since lol.. I'm wondering what he feels if anything for me and if it's gonna go anywhere? Anything I should know? - V

How he feels about you

"50 Ways To Say Goodbye"“My heart is paralyzedMy head was oversizedI'll take the high road like I shouldYou said it's meant to beThat it's not you, it's meYou're leaving now for my own goodThat's cool, but if my friends ask where you are I'm gonna sayShe went down in an airplaneFried getting suntannedFell in a cement mixer full of quicksandHelp me, help me, I'm no good at goodbyes!She met a shark under waterFell and no one caught herI returned everything I ever bought herHelp me, help me, I'm all out of liesAnd ways to say you diedMy pride still feels the stingYou were my everythingSome day I'll find a love like yours (a love like yours)She'll think I'm SupermanNot super minivanHow could you leave on Yom Kippur?That's cool, but if my friends ask where you are I'm gonna sayShe was caught in a mudslideEaten by a lionGot run over by a crappy purple ScionHelp me, help me, I'm no good at goodbyes!She dried up in the desertDrowned in a hot tubDanced to death at an east side night clubHelp me, help me, I'm all out of liesAnd ways to say you diedI wanna live a thousand lives with youI wanna be the one you're dying to love...But you don't want toThat's cool, but if my friends ask where you are I'm gonna sayThat's cool, but if my friends ask where you are I'm gonna sayShe went down in an airplaneFried getting suntannedFell in a cement mixer full of quicksandHelp me, help me, I'm no good at goodbyes!She met a shark under waterFell and no one caught herI returned everything I ever bought herHelp me, help me, I'm all out of liesShe was caught in a mudslideEaten by a lionGot run over by a crappy purple ScionHelp me, help me, I'm no good at goodbyes!She dried up in the desertDrowned in a hot tubDanced to death at an east side night clubHelp me, help me, I'm all out of liesAnd ways to say you died”

Lyric Link

Will the relationship/friendship go anywhere

"Thnks Fr Th Mmrs"“I'm gonna make you bend and break(it sent you to me without wings)Say a prayer but let the good times rollIn case God doesn't show(let the good times roll, let the good times roll)And I want these words to make things rightBut it's the wrongs that make the words come to life"Who does he think he is?"If that's the worst you gotBetter put your fingers back to the keysOne night and one more timeThanks for the memoriesEven though they weren't so great"He tastes like you only sweeter, "One night, yeah, and one more timeThanks for the memories, thanks for the memories"See, he tastes like you only sweeter."Been looking forward to the futureBut my eyesight is going badAnd this crystal ballIs always cloudy except for (except for)When you look into the past (look into the past)One night stand (one night stand off)One night and one more timeThanks for the memoriesEven though they weren't so great"He tastes like you only sweeter."One night, yeah, and one more timeThanks for the memories, thanks for the memories"See, he tastes like you only sweeter."They say I only think in the form of crunching numbersIn hotel rooms collecting page six loversGet me out of my mind and get you out of those clothesI'm a liner away from getting you into the mood, whoaOne night and one more timeThanks for the memoriesEven though they weren't so great"He tastes like you only sweeter."One night, (oh!) yeah, (oh!) and one more timeThanks for the memories, thanks for the memories"See, he tastes like you only sweeter."One night and one more time (one more night, one more time)Thanks for the memoriesEven though they weren't so great"he tastes like you only sweeter." (oh)One night, yeah, and one more time (one more night, one more time)Thanks for the memories, thanks for the memories (thanks for the memories, thanks for the memories)"see, he tastes like you only sweeter." (oh)”

Lyric Link

Anything else you need to know (not necessarily related to A)

“My Leftovers - Porcelain And The Tramps”

Your havin a midlife crisis tying to get where I've beenWell if you want 'em that bad Ms.VYou can have 'emSo when you see me cominYou better back downCause I've been waitin to smack you around

Oh I don't hold my breathAnd I don't hold my toungeAnd I know that you know that I don't back downTo no oneTo no one(x2)

Oh you should've stayed homeYou should've known betterThat I melt in your mouth like liquid sugar.You thought you were gonna throw it back in my faceBut tell me how do my leftovers taste

With all your plastic surgery you still think that your 20Well honey you'll never look half good as meIt would take a lot more moneyYou can't keep your legs closedThey're cheap and disturbingAnd you wonder why your still single half past 30

Oh I don't hold my breathAnd I don't hold my tongueAnd I know that you know that I don't back downTo no oneTo no one(x2)

Oh you should've stayed homeYou should've known betterThat I melt in your mouth like liquid sugarYou thought you were gonna throw it back in my faceBut tell me how do my leftovers taste

How do my leftovers tasteTell me how do my leftovers taste

How do my leftovers tasteTell me did you lick my plateoooooohHow do my leftovers taste

Oh I don't hold my breathAnd I don't hold my tongueAnd I know that you know that I don't back downTo no oneTo no one(x2)

(no one)Oh you should've stayed homeYou should've known betterThat I melt in your mouth like liquid sugarYou thought you were gonna throw it back in my faceBut tell me how do my leftovers taste

How do my leftovers tasteOh you should've stayed homeYou should've known betterThat I melt in your mouth like liquid sugar

Tell me how do my leftovers tasteTell me how do my leftovers tasteTell me how do my leftovers taste

Lyric link

Forthose who don’t know, I’m doing Shufflemancy, Tarot, Pendulum, and ArchangelOracle card readings. I have the Michael and Gabriel Archangel cards, so if youhave any questions for them feel free to ask. Other rules and guidelines are HERE