#is tilly not the right shape for you

[yaymiyas]

ISEKAI!YANDERE!CROWN PRINCE INTRODUCTION

warning: female reader, his name is saer…just so you can follow a bit lol, isekai lol

a/n: it’s structured a bit differently than my other introductions, do note that yes this is x reader but you had gotten isekai’d into a novel so….i do say her name but…..you’re also you…..if that makes sense, also he is hardly in it but its like….an introduction to the story bc its…an isekai and i needed to layout how i wanted everything to be

its not like you didn’t realize something was up. bright white lights blind you right when you open your eyes. maids coming in and out, calling you ‘miss’ and telling you not to sit up because ‘it will harm you even more’. granted, you were very thankful for their words because, around ten minutes before they came in, you attempted to sit up and gave yourself a headache. even though nobody was explaining anything, you remained quiet, trying to gather as much information from the surrounding maids as possible. the red-haired one with tight curls and an everlasting smile was amanda. she seemed to like you much, more than the other two, and tended to you more carefully. maybe she was your personal maid,or maybe she was just good at her job, but she never let up and called you your ‘name’.

admittedly, none of the other two maids called you your ‘name’ either. it was all just ma’am or miss from them. you just expected a hint of your identity from amanda, based solely on her care for you. selfish? maybe but you needed more hints. the other maids are named cynthia and tilly. the former of the two had long black hair slicked into a low bun, with a small maids hair on top to finish the look. it was a cute detail, if you must say, since the other two didn’t wear them. cynthia hardly spoke above a shout, coming off as more soft-spoken than the other two. she wasn’t really rude, nor did she have an attitude while tending to you, but she wore an expression of indifference that made you think she would rather do anything else.

tilly, on the other hand, was more bold than the other two. still not outwardly rude, but she tested your patience a few times. the main one that got to you though, was when she was rubbing your face. while she was washing off your face with the washcloth, she rubbed against your cheeks too hard, and upon this ‘realization’ she gave you a malevolent grin. her thin lips formed an o shape, mimicking the action of saying ‘oops’. luckily, it seemed as if amanda and cynthia didn’t really care for this ‘prank’ of hers. they both scoffed in disgust, continuing to pick out outfits for me to wear for the day ahead.

a soft but stern knock was heard at the door, revealing a man with black slick back hair and yellow eyes to put the look all together. he reminded you of those webtoon male leads that were cold but female audiences loved. being a sucker for those types, you raised your neck up, making sure to keep your body in the same supine position. the man standing at the foot of your bed looked down at you with an expression that you couldn’t read. an expression that wasn’t scary but wasnt welcoming. tapping along the footboard of the bed, he let out a low sigh out that resembled a growl and turned around to leave. tilly, amanda, and cynthia didn’t acknowledge the man. neither did he to them. the only thing that could resemble an interaction between the four of them was when tilly and amanda gave small bows and the slight side eye cynthia gave before going back inside your closet to look for something.

“madam,”

thats a new one.

“lord saer would like you to have breakfast with him today.”

lifting your head enough to turn your focus towards amanda, you started to guess your facial expression was a bit too expressive because amanda started to giggle. the pain in your body wasn’t really high; it was more the numbness that bothered you. moving your neck and head didn’t really take much strength, it was attempting to move your legs that was the problem. walking towards you in a shift movement, amanda placed the rich, deep purple hair piece down on top of the dress set she had picked out for you. upon arrival, she softly removed your blanket and shifted your body into a sitting position. you felt like a doll.

“okay now miss, i will be lifting you up to wash you now.”

placing her right arm underneath the backs of your knees and her left arm supporting your neck, she quickly moved you to the area you’re assuming was the bathroom. the door to the large room was already open, since once she had lifted you up, cynthia had pushed the door open and walked in herself. the room was massive, twice the size of a normal person’s kitchen. the walls and floor tiles were both the same shade of pale pink, matching the sleeping set you had on. amanda sat you down in a chair and started to strip you down. while she was doing that, the other was running the bath water and testing if it was safe enough. every time the water was a bit too hot or too cold, you saw cynthia’s eyes squeeze shut.

“alright madam edina,”

cynthia sighed, standing up from the clam shaped tub.

“it’s all set for you. please do not make it hard as you have always done.”

not sparing you even a small look, she and amanda were already picking you up and guiding you into the tub. quietly instructing you to lay back, wet, cold liquid found its way both on your scalp and on your legs. edina? are you sure thats what she said? the only edina you knew of was the villainess from the hit novel “obsession falls”. you never really read the book, but you knew of the characters and the content that surrounded it. it was rather controversial for how obsessive and dangerous the male lead was. he had stalked the female lead for years, and it didn’t stop once he got married. with a wife so dismissive and uninterested, the male lead was given all the time in the world to go hunt his prey.

unfortunately for him, once edina randomly started to care about what her husband was doing during the day he had to slowly stop. losing the love of his life to the second male lead, alastair. due to this very random string of events, saer had grown irritated by the events his wife was clumsily stringing together. he then decided to take care of his wife, edina. the night before he was to go and kill alastair, he had poisoned the dinner he had helped make for his wife. from your memory, this was one of the few times in years he had asked his wife to sit at the table and eat with him. she would usually just take her food into her room separately. this night, edina came into the dining room with her most expensive jewelry and dress. she thought this was the night her husband was going to admit his faults and leave the female lead for her. however, what actually ended up happening was that the moment she took a bite out of her steak, her vision went black and her head banged on the table.

focusing on the soft brushes of your hair, you start to put the pieces together. you don’t remember the faces of any of the characters in the story, you just remember the basic blot and conflict. if what cynthia said was true, that you are in fact edina tudor gwynn then that means the reasoning for your stiff body was because of your ‘husband’ trying to kill you. sharply sucking in some air, you seek strength within your legs. even though the lower half of your body was still partially numbed, the feeling of pins and needles filled the tip of your toes to the back of your knees. not wanting to cause much of a scene, even though you were sure she wouldn’t care much, you looked up to check to see if your maid was paying you any mind. cynthia was too focused on rinsing your body, while amanda stopped brushing your hair to grab towels for you.

“cynthia,”

it was amazing how you could even get that out. due to the affects of the poison, your throat had become overly dry and it hurt you to even swallow. that was mainly one of the reasons as to why you hardly spoke to them this morning. stopping in her tracks, she lazily turned her head into your direction. the woman didn’t have much of any emotion on her face. her eyelids halfway down, making it appear that she was tired or just bored. her lips were in a thin line. you had hardly seen her smile or really speak, so you started to believe this was just how her resting face looked like.

“why did he poison me?”

tilting her head a bit, cynthia’s facial expression changed. it was as if your question intrigued her. her low eyelids raised a bit, along side her eyebrows, as she tried to tame the smile that was creeping on her thin lips. this was the most expressive you have ever seen her. she began to part her lips when amanda came back through the door with the towels.

“perhaps this conversation will need to be revisited, my lady.”

[russellsppttemplates]

Hi sweetheart, hope you’re good<3

Could you write sth for Matilda and Lucas? Whatever you’d like but I’m getting all mushy on the idea of them understanding each other without words and all

Note: me too! I starred thinking about it and I melted! 🥹🫠 I hope you're well too!

Even though Lando and Oscar would spend a lot of the time in media duties, they still wanted their little ones close to them so they could spend a little time with them on their breaks.

While their mothers engaged in conversation, Lucas and Matilda sat at the table with their arts and crafts kits open. They were both quiet kids but they understood eachother without having to speak many words.

Matilda would always make sure her crayons were within arms reach for Lucas, and the little boy would always notice whenever she needed something and make sure she could have it, like right now, when he noticed her crayon needed to be sharpened, gently handing her the sharpener with a sweet smile on his face.

"Thank you, Lucas", Matilda whispered gently as she took it, a sweet smile on her face too.

They drew on each of their drawings until it was done before Lucas pulled a big A3 sheet of paper from his folder, "my mummy said we could draw on this together, do you want to do that?", he asked.

Matilda nodded, grabbing some of her pens and spreading them out so he could use them too, starting to draw flowers on the paper. Lucas followed her, doing his best to make sure they complimented her pink and purple flowers. They easily found a scheme: Matilda would draw the petals, colouring them in and then Lucas would follow with the glittery yellow pen to colour in the middle, ending up with about a quarter of the page covered in flowers in all colours and shapes.

Lucas thought it would look nice with some rainbows, so he started drawing them, this time with Matilda following his lead as they drew the coloured arches.

After tidying up, they both got up and walked up to a magnetic wall, their mothers always keeping an eye on them, and grabbed some magnets to hold their drawing up.

"Hey, Tilly", Lando cooed as he and Oscar walked up the stairs, seeing their children looking at the drawing.

"Did you draw that with Matilda, little man?", Oscar asked as Lucas hugged his legs, nodding in response, "it looks really good", he complimented.

"Looks really pretty, baby", Lando smiled, pulling his daughter up on his hip and kissing her cheek, "let's go to mummy, hm? We can all have lunch together".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[waklman]

Hi Tilly! So, I’m living by myself for the first time and my dishwasher just flooded my apartment 🫠I’m fine😀, really… 😭. Anyways, I just wanted to ask you to maybe write something with Bradley and babybear 🥺. They are my comfort characters! love ya ❤️

summary: you and bradley go out for a late night snack or bf! bradley who stands there in silence x gf! who orders food for them both.

warnings: mentions of strict dieting, one or two suggestive jokes. fluff, 18+ blog.

note: helpp the way that kind of made me laugh. as a fellow girlie who also gets herself in trouble when left alone, i hope your floors are okay! excuse the quality as writers block has me by the neck

something 'bout you masterlist.

It’s not often that Bradley dines out. He’ll indulge in some of Penny’s greasy bar snacks once in a while—nothing more than that.

With the one time he did slack off, it wasn’t exactly easy to get back to his original physique. In fact, Bradley even found himself struggling to keep up with the likes of Hangman at one point.

And that was just the wake up call he needed to finally get back on track. 

Since then, he’s made sure to double down on his efforts to stay in shape, scarfing down his protein packed, repetitive, plain meals. It’d be a lie to say that it wasn’t a bit tasking, but it's nothing Bradley Bradshaw couldn’t put up with. And when Bradley was committed towards something, he was all in. 

But what he forgot to include in his ‘fool proof’ plan to remain loyal to his diet, was his stubborn girlfriend who loves to spoil him rotten. Which is why he's finding it difficult to swallow down his food tonight.

The usual pre-prepped dinner has never tasted so bland and downright dry, especially when you’re planted in front of him with that tablet in your hands.

For the past thirty minutes, Bradley has been subjected to a screening of strangers eating a variety of foods—from huge portions of instant noodles—to enormous crab legs being dipped in buckets of cheese. 

He’s seen it all. 

“Give in,” you whisper, fingers tightly curled around the edges of the ipad, though, you’re careful enough to not block the screen itself.

Across the rounded table he’s sat in, you’re standing there like you’re getting paid to show him a compilation of mukbang videos. You’d put the billboards lined up on the nearby highways to shame. 

“Not a fucking chance,” he mutters under his breath, shaking his head firmly. 

Stabbing his fork into another piece of boiled chicken, Bradley stuffs it into his mouth in defiance. He refuses to wave the white flag, not when he’s worked so hard to finally restrain himself.

Maverick would have to come twirling into the living-room in ballerina-get up for him to take it as a sign to treat himself to a cheat meal. 

At his clear refusal to give in, your head peeks out, just so slightly, behind the thirteen inch screen, eyes narrowed with fiery determination igniting them.

“Mcdonalds. Wendys. Burger King. In and Out,” you repeatedly chant, legs starting to tremble under the strain of standing up for so long. 

Bradley only flares his nostrils, a sign that he is not backing down either.

In any other scenario, his knees would’ve immediately buckled after one plea from you. But right now, he knows you’d stuff his face with junk—that he’s been successfully cutting out for months, if you were given the okay from him.

Though, he does have to admit, he’s finding it hard to keep a stern face because your legs look like they’re about to completely give out. Not wanting to keep you up any longer, Bradley tunes out your endless chant of fast food chains—which somehow turns into a catchy song, as he shovels more strips of chicken in his mouth.

Maybe if he finishes his dinner faster, he could coax you onto the couch to watch more Ryan Gosling movies. 

Following your gut feeling, you lift a finger to the front of the screen, tapping repeatedly on the skip button—until it felt right. After spamming your pointer just a few times, you lift the index off the glass, letting it play at a random point in the compilation.

Bradley’s tongue prods his cheek, straight face starting to falter. “Baby it’s not gonna work. Please just sit dow—” 

His mouth immediately clamps shut, throat moving as he swallows back a wad of drool pooling inside his mouth. The boring dinner under him is long forgotten. 

Noticing his dazed state, you lower the screen to probe what finally caught his attention. Bradley’s eyes practically trails the movement of the tablet, not looking away for a second.

A platter of juicy burgers leaking oil and mountains of fries is what breaks him. 

“And he’ll have the double bacon-burger, two large fries, one coke and—” 

The teenage boy behind the register blinks in disbelief, watching the giant man in front of him lean down towards his girlfriend, shyly whispering in her ear. 

Bradley draws back again, standing a head taller than you with his arms crossed around your front, glassy eyes roaming the lit-up menu stretched above the line of registers. 

“Oh, can we actually make that a root beer? Also I’m really sorry, but can you remove the tomatoes from the burger as well?” You request, giving Bradley comforting strokes on the forearm he has slung over your chest.

“Yes, Ma’m I can…I can do that for you,” the worker clears his throat, editing the order on the screen, customer service voice practically cracking. 

When you two first walked in, with matching pajama pants, the fast food employee assumed he was dealing with a pair of psychos from the streets.

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, he’d always get one or two unsettling visitors in the duration of his night shift. But they’d always prowl inside the joint by themselves—they never had company—nor have they ever teamed up on him before. Briefly, he considered hovering his hand over the dusty emergency button directly under the counter. 

But to his surprise, you two were just a relatively normal couple with a craving for burgers at midnight. 

“Alrighty, your total comes out to 18.50,” he reads, eyes nervously darting between the two of you. “...Will that be cash or card?”

Almost in a race with each other, you both drop the lovely couple act, digging in your own pajama pants for your wallets. The anxious worker behind the counter starts taking a careful step back, afraid you two were going to pull out a weapon on him all of a sudden. God, he shouldn’t have let his guard down so easily. 

He stills as you beat Bradley to it, holding out a credit card between your fingers, excitedly pointing it towards him. 

Bradley begins to panic, patting down his empty pockets. “Babybear, where the fuck is my wallet?” He tilts his head down at you, a knowing look settling on his face. 

As the credit card is taken from you, your mouth stretches into a wide smile, and you crane your neck backwards to look at him. “I tossed it in the back of the car when you weren’t looking,” you gleam in satisfaction.

Bradley sighs in disbelief, no wonder you were so clingy in the car. 

“Is that why you were crawlin’ all over me during all the stop lights?” 

“Gimme a kiss,” you suddenly demand, cutting him off. 

Bradley blinks at your puckered lips.

It practically pulls him into a trance, because he’s already dipping his head down to give you a quick peck. In a strange way, it’s almost a perfect recreation of that upside-down spider man kiss scene. 

Ultimately, he decides to keep the comparison to himself. If he were to mention it, you’d most likely start gushing about another movie actor.

He’s already heard enough of Ryan Gosling lately.

“I know you can open your mouth bigger than that,” you frown in his lap, readjusting the bundle of fries between your fingers. 

The buckle of his undone seatbelt hits your ankle when you wriggle to find a comfortable position next.

Bradley licks the ketchup off his lip. “Yeah, you would know,” he teases, giving your butt a quick squeeze, sleazy look on his face. 

Somehow, he’s the same person who was barely able to order food for himself inside the burger joint that’s currently behind his parked Bronco.

Receiving a silent look of disapproval from you, he finally clears his throat. 

“Okay, someone didn’t find that funny,” he mumbles, stretching his mouth wider for you.

“A little more. Ahhh,” you sing, encouraging him to take the fistful of french fries. Under you, Bradley nearly chokes when you stuff one more in his mouth, slamming his jaw shut with finality. 

“I like when your mouth is full. Less talking,” you jut your chin at him, all too pleased with the lapse of silence. 

Bradley stills his chewing, raising a brow at you. 

“Ugh! Stop it. Keep chewing those fries,” you complain, reaching for the large root beer resting on the dashboard behind you.

Bradley grins, mouth full of food, holding you steady when you twist your middle to grab the drink. 

Swallowing down a large ball of potato, he leans forward, wrapping his lips around the straw, taking a long sip from the drink cradled between your hands. 

“Are you full?” You question, watching him lean back after finishing off the remains of the beverage. You decide to set the empty cup into the driver's seat for now. 

“Feeling so full, baby,” he groans, shutting his eyes as if it’ll help him digest it faster. 

Pursing your lips to hold back a laugh, you place a suggestive hand over his stomach. “Yeah? Feel it all in your tummy,” your voice drops to a lower register, mimicking his dirty talk from the other day. 

His eyes snap open, immediately.

The cramped Bronco, littered in empty paper bags and greasy wrapping paper jostles as he rushes to sit up tall. “You said no more jokes,” he scoffs, pinching your sides. What you said was worse than everything else he spat out tonight. 

“Hey,” you whine, scratching his bloated stomach with your nails. “Don’t act all mad big guy. I know you’re about to give in anyways,” you giggle. 

Bradley traces his teeth with his tongue, failing to conceal his growing smile. Because you’re right.

If you weren’t, he wouldn’t be thirty minutes away from home, favorite person in his lap and favorite cheat meal in his stomach.

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[icarusbetide]

some of my group chat's obscure and inaccurate amrev (hamilton centric) fancasts part 1

the result of five students procrastinating and commenting "hey this guy could play hamilton". not very accurate and based on vibes. we are not scouting agents for good reason.

Alexander Hamilton

We know from people's descriptions and portraits that he most likely: had very red hair, was 5 ft 7-ish, and was slender with a "fine figure". Fun fact, some historians say that people calling him 'small' was more in regards to his slimness than his height, which was more or less average at that time period. Need to find a source for that.

From paintings we do see that he had a prominent nose...and perhaps more of a pointed chin with a slim face, as a young man? It seemed to have broadened out with age. Portraits of him seem wildly inconsistent, and the one Betsey said was very like him was later in life. Damn you Charles Wilson Peale, you never got his face right! tbh I didn't see much of Hamilton's face (especially young Hamilton) in amc Turn's Sean Haggerty who had too much of a round face, and I think he was casted based off of the peale painting lmao.

And of course, who can forget his beautiful beautiful anime blue-violet eyes. Abigail Adams saw the devil in them, Fisher Ames seems to have spent way too much time staring into them. Both accounts can be seen as complimentary.

I've yet to find an actor that really captures an older Hamilton well, so I'm not even going to go there. Honestly, i've yet to find a really spot-on young Hamilton either, so I have no fan-cast. But my friend has one she advocates for a lot:

Tom Blyth based on these specific paintings (and a de-aged one with dark hair). Her words: "he has really piercing blue eyes and we know he can pull off lighter hair from the hunger games movie! he's also very slender which would work well, even though he's pretty tall. we can do perspective work with height it's okay."

And apparently Hamilton's son (William? it's not Philip right) looked quite a bit like him. And in the sketch below I think we can see Blyth's face there!

Not too bad, I think. Especially since his face seems to have filled out more. Main concern is if the hypothetical project would characterize Hamilton well, and if he'd deliver that complicated energy lol. He is charismatic so a point in his favor?

Valentijn Dijkman is another one of my friend's fancasts so I don't know much about him besides the screenshots they shared. Apparently he is a model and tiktoker, and he certainly checks the ginger + blue eyes requirements! A bit of a yassified Hamilton, I think, but some contemporaries called him almost feminine and some descriptions of him are wild so that might be okay.

Elizabeth Hamilton

Now, we know that Betsey was very petite and had lovely dark curls and eyes that Hamilton and even Tilghman, I believe, commented on. It seems like she had a slim face and a strong T-zone. Even in the portraits we see her dark eyes. Portraits of her when she was younger:

My personal fav fan cast is actually Meg Tilly, specifically Meg Tilly in Valmont 1983. She has the dark hair and dark eyes and her facial structure itself is also similar enough to me.

There's also something in her performance here that would serve well for Elizabeth - a sweetness and patient quality plus a hidden playful streak.

John Laurens

We are all stumped for him lmao. We don't have a lot of paintings of him and the main one is a Charles Peale and I don't trust him 100%. We do know he was most likely blonde, taller than Hamilton, and was very handsome.

Coward's way out. Seth Numrich is a popular one and I wouldn't be angry about it!

George Washington

It ain't accurate but I loved Ian Kahn's Washington so much that I don't care. He's way too hot to be Washington but let's just pretend it's that hero-worship coming through.

And to round it all out, Turn Lafayette was also suprisingly accurate in face shape I think. You can see we ran out of steam at the end.

[agendabymooner]

9 to 5 || f1 drivers (5)

(SPIN OFF OF COLOUR ME YOUR COLOUR (WIP) and RUSH)

Summary: Lorelei Hester ‘Lester’ Alessandro is a bassist first and Daniel Ricciardo’s partner second. But it seems like another role is added to her resume as she begins her weekend in Baku as Toto Wolff’s children’s babysitter. 

Chapter summary: Daniel Ricciardo stopped by to say hi to what the team principals had considered as threats to their drivers - it was very hard not to get distracted by Soren and Tia Wolff after all. AND Lester Alessandro envied the Wolff cubs' intelligence as Soren was already on his fourteenth short story on a Thursday noon (he just started reading the book that morning).

Content warning: family-centric content, people trying not to swear in front of children, Uncle Danny content, Australia references, Christian Horner mentioned, Hearth sister!OFC x Max Verstappen relationship, Hearth sister!OFC x Charles Leclerc relationship. 

masterlist

v. the little weapons of destruction distraction

Fourteenth story. 

They were barely halfway through the day and Tilly and Toto’s eldest son had finished thirteen fairy tale stories. The thick book of Grimms Fairy Tales, if she was being truthful, would be something that she’d be able to read in the span of three days. Six hours, if she was motivated enough. 

But as she sat there with her own book opened, she couldn’t help but wonder if Tilly worked extremely hard on getting these children to read a lot. 

Lester knew that the kids she was babysitting were fluent in four languages, but she didn’t know if fluency came with the fast paced reading comprehension skills that Soren obviously had been showing. 

Soren Philip Alphonse Wolff was born to an unmarried couple, Tilly Marie (Hearth) and Toto Wolff. When he was born, it was almost like the wall that Toto used to protect his heart broke down. Despite the obvious features that came from Toto, Ren was more like Tilly, if you were to ask Lester or anyone close to them. Timid, shy, but if you ask him about his books and the characters, his eyes would brighten and he would endlessly ramble about it. At the age of five, you would think that he would be talking about dinosaurs (he likes dinosaurs) and rockets (and he likes rockets too) but not Soren. Soren would share his interest in children’s literature to anyone who would like to listen.

So it somehow didn’t come as a surprise when the boy finished his thirteenth story and moved on to the next. He was so occupied by it that he could hear no one but the characters and the background noise. 

“Zia Lori,” a tiny voice beside her spoke, making the bassist turn and give Tia a smile. The girl looked up at her aunt and raised the colouring book that she was just working on. “Do you like it?” 

There were colours outside the lines but Lester could tell that Tia tried staying inside the shapes while she used different crayons. Paddington had never been this vibrant until now. 

Besides from the initials of her name, Tia Christie Vienna Wolff had more commonalities shared with her namesake. She had Toto’s temperament and the way of how she thrived to colour without going outside the line just proved how she was practically Toto’s carbon copy. 

She had a tendency to get frustrated whenever she sat herself down in front of the shape sorters and she couldn’t fit the right animal on it. The first time she (a year and a half during that time) threw the blocks out of frustration, bewilderment was written all over Toto’s face. But when he turned to look at Tilly for an explanation all she said was, “Haven’t you looked at the mirrors lately?” Still to this day, Toto’s reminding his mini me to take a breather first before her temper goes down to shit. Her perfectionism and the frustration that came with it? Yeah. That was all Toto, and ironically, neither of the parents had ever set some expectations for the children. 

“Like it? What do you mean? I love it!” Lester exclaimed, giving the little girl a high five. 

“But look,” Tia pointed at the colours outside the line, “this is bad.”

“No it’s not,” Lester shook her head, “that’s an accident, and an accident isn’t bad sometimes.”

“What’s acc-ent?” Tia tilted her head, curious about the foreign word that came out of her aunt’s mouth. 

Lester chuckled, both at her curiosity and the fact that she could speak as much German and French (and Italian) as she'd like yet not know the word accident in any language, “It is when you do something that you did not mean to do. Like… Oops!” 

“Ah!” Tia nodded enthusiastically. “Acc-ent!” 

“No, no, Tia,” Lester instructed, “follow Zia Lori… ready?” 

“Mhm!” Tia nodded again. 

“A…” “A…” 

“…k…” “…k…”

“si…” “si…”

“…dent.” “…dent.” 

“Accident!” Lester said the word faster.

“Accident!” Tia repeated with a clap of her hands. 

“There we go,” Lester nodded approvingly. She should teach kids about phonics. It seemed fun to teach. “You do so well at words. Do you read with Mama every night?” 

“Yes,” Tia said meekly, shying away from the woman as she continued, “Mama reads English… and French… and I-t’lian! But she only do French and English more. Papa teaches Italian.” 

“Ahh,” Lester nodded. “It must be exciting reading with Mama, eh? How do you like it?” 

“I love Mama! She reads so well,” Tia paused while she thought of something, “but Papa can do Eeyore more. He sound sad! I love Eeyore! But! So-en reads books to me too!” 

The little lad sitting across the two paused from reading and looked up from the page he was reading, wondering why he was called by Tia. Not sensing any cry for help, Soren returned to his book. 

“I hope Adelmo— when he grows— he can listen to me read,” Tia said with her eyes twinkling. “I can teach him F-ench! Like Mama!” 

According to Tilly, Soren and Toto often hover over Tia. They tended to be more protective when it came to Tia—perhaps it’s the effect of being the only girl in the family. Soren loved his sister a lot and would always read her books, trying to raise her as another version of himself.

Toto loved his kids equally, no doubt. His older kids (not with Tilly) were the subjects of his love alongside his little ones, but even they couldn’t deny that Tia was the most loved one. 

But it seemed like Tia, despite being everyone’s favourite, loved her little brother Adelmo more. It never caused any rift between siblings, but Tia tended to be protective of Adelmo more than anyone. 

At least none of them were bitter or arguing over who liked who. They all loved each other equally. It was just an observation that Lester had done. 

“He’ll grow soon enough, Tia,” Lester told the little girl. “But, right now, he has to feel better so when you get home… you can tell him about your trip with Papa.” 

“Hey, hey! Are those the mini Tillys I’m seeing?” The kids’ eyes widened at the voice as they turned and gasped. 

“Zio Danny!” “Oncle Dan!” 

“I have different names in different languages,” Daniel hoisted the two kids up in his arms as he grunted, “You two are becoming more like your dad. So heavy and tall!” 

“Not tall enough,” Soren crossed his arms with a huff, “Papa is tall like a building!” 

“Godzilla!” Tia exclaimed as Soren nodded in agreement.

“Or… Or King Kong!” It was Tia’s turn to nod enthusiastically. 

“Yeah, he’s incredibly tall, indeed,” Daniel turned and walked towards his girlfriend, leaning forward to kiss her on the temple as he asked, “What have you and the little wombats been up to?” 

“Wombats?” Soren slightly shoved himself away from Daniel’s face as he asked, “what is a wombat?” 

“Ahh, I forgot, you haven’t been to Australia yet,” Daniel let out a ‘tsk’ with a shake of his head. “Your Mum and Dad are depriving you of those little adorable creatures! We need to get that fixed. Tell your Mum or Dad to take you there next time.”

Lester chuckled quietly before finally answering, “We have been doing a lot of colouring and reading so far.”

“‘s that right?” 

“Yes,” Lester insisted with a widened pair of eyes, “too much reading if I am being honest.” 

“Oh! Uncle Dan!” Soren placed his hand on top of Daniel’s head, making the Australian look at him with a slight frown. “Guess what? I’m reading Hansel und Gretel!” He shook himself off from Daniel’s hold and grabbed the opened book from the table, raising it as Daniel looked down at the book.

A frown etched on Daniel’s face as he said, “Ren, lad, I can’t understand this.” 

“What do you mean?” Soren asked. Walking up to Lester, Soren raised the same book for her to read. 

At least Daniel and Lester could agree on not being able to read German. At this rate, they’re both thinking that Toto and Tilly were raising intellectuals. The next Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Hypatia of Alexandria, if you would ask either of them. 

“That explains why Uncle Daniel can’t read it,” Lester found herself chuckling, “we both cannot read German language, Soren.” 

“Oh,” the boy murmured, “okay.” 

“But are you loving it so far?” Daniel asked, now sitting next to Lester with Tia perched on his lap. 

“Yes,” Soren nodded eagerly, “I am about to finish the story!” 

“Such a smart boy,” Lester complimented Soren, the little boy’s cheeks turning red at the compliment. Much like Tilly, her children always shy away from the compliments thrown their way. They were the sweetest children that Lester had met. It was probably because her younger siblings and her nephews and niece are just chihuahuas in the form of human beings.

Lester looked up at her beau, “I am more worried that you’re here and you’re not where you’re supposed to be now.” 

“I got here first before any of the people in the grid does,” Daniel told her smugly. “Some of them are just hearing that the kids are here this weekend and it will be an absolute disaster if all of them found the two at once.”

Tia and Soren Wolff were what Lester could call the tactical team of Mercedes. Well… of any team to be fair. Anyone from other teams could get easily distracted by the kids. Jenson at some point had joked about the two working for their father in Mercedes to distract Red Bull’s drivers hours or days before the race. 

At some point Christian had wanted to ban the kids from visiting their motorhome, but why? The kids were toddlers and entering the school-aged stage. They know nothing about tactics and driving besides from “Papa! Look, cars go fast!” But they still had Tilly’s heart and the drivers, if you were to ask anyone on any team, enjoyed being around Tilly. The Wolff kids often lifted the spirits up in the grid. 

The most fortunate driver to spend his time with the children would be Lewis Hamilton. Not only did he drive for Mercedes-AMG but he was Soren’s godfather. He had been Tilly’s best friend first before Toto was Tilly’s partner. Toto had gotten more softer on him once Stevie changed her surname to Hamilton on Valentine's Day. The other two didn’t stand a chance. 

Max Verstappen was certainly trying to be on Toto's good side. It took him a good while to convince Sylvie, his now-girlfriend, that he hadn’t meant to screw her over once— so you could barely imagine convincing Toto that. Not only was he trying to appease the older man, but he had an opportunity to prove that he’s a good uncle to the kids by babysitting them. Perhaps to prove that he would be a good father as well, but it wasn’t the right words to say in front of Toto Wolff, of all people. 

Charles Leclerc was fairly close to becoming a welcome face at some point, if it hadn’t been for the fact that some gossip page decided to take the context out of a private conversation where he said that he wouldn’t have a child with someone who nearly broke him one way or another. He was speaking of an ex-girlfriend who wouldn’t let go. But once that the story had spread out and his girlfriend had gotten a hold of it, she ran straight to Toto. Yeah, no. Still to this day, Toto wasn’t as convinced that Charles’ intention was to remain true. 

But still. Tia and Soren were what the team principals assumed to be Mercedes’ little weapons of distraction. Especially with Max Verstappen? Yeah. Christian Horner definitely did not want the kids near him during the race weekends. But it wasn’t like he could say it upfront. Max was fairly close to marrying Sylvie. Max’s family was practically connected to Toto’s. 

“Who was the first to hear that?” Lester asked her beau with a brow raised. 

“Charles,” Daniel answered with a shit-eating grin, “but he can’t get out of his media duties.”

“Wow, if Ferrari only made time for their strategies instead of putting their drivers in front of a camera for their spare time,” Lester feigned satisfaction as she sighed dramatically, “just imagine the podiums that they could get.”

“A lot!” Soren piped up before his guilty eyes looked up at the adults, “I am sorry, Zia and Zio. Papa and Mama said it is rude to listen to adults talking.”

“No, it’s alright, mi niño pequeño,” Lester smiled sweetly at the boy. “Thank you for apologizing.”

Daniel only shrugged, “But he isn’t wrong.” He and Soren exchanged grins. 

If there’s anything that Lester had learned at the very beginning of her relationship with Daniel, it would be that he would be one to encourage Soren to say something that a smart-ass would say. Tilly told Lester once that Daniel was the devil on her shoulder back when she started in her racing teams in 2014. Like that shoey during the Silverstone 2014. That was all Daniel.

So it wasn’t much of a surprise when Soren nodded at Daniel’s approving look. Soren was smart, indeed, and clearly Daniel’s trying to “corrupt” his brain with mischief and whatever it was he’s concocting at the paddock. 

Maybe this was what they meant when Soren and Tia were Mercedes’ weapons of destruction. And they were both being influenced by a Red Bull driver. Ironic.

[soufcakmistress]

Charleston Blues

Part IV

Pairing: Erik Stevens x Thick Black OC

“I took it upon myself to personally bring you this small token of our appreciation and a warm welcome to Charleston from the CNWL and me as well. I hope you’ll be able to make a home here.” Mrs. Warner had her best curls pieced and placed perfectly on her heart shaped face. She showed every tooth in her mouth shoving the massive home baked apple crisp into Erik’s chest. 

“My freezer box is full to overflowing with desserts but thank you anyway! And you said your name was…”

“Warner. Stella Warner. My husband is also a business owner; he owns his own barbershop on the peninsula. Mr. Stevens, how you liking the south? The climate seems to be agreeing with you.” 

He walks to the back where a small break room lies with a table and two chairs and a refrigerator, with Mrs. Warner following like a yearning puppy. “Hotter than what I’m used to, but it’s beautiful. Everybody has shown such hospitality. Including you, little lady.” Erik winked at Mrs. Warner and she fought not to swoon and sway. 

“Well, I have to get a move on now. The club will be convening soon and I have to get my kids situated. Surely you understand right?” Stella blinked her brown eyes right in his face, curious and mischievous. “You don’t have to leave so soon Stella..”

Erik swaggered to the front and told Jerry to flip the sign on the door and go take a break. He came back in there with her coy eyes flittering every which way and Erik fought to pull at his dick in his pants. “She’s ripe for the taking, as long as you’re up for what could come next.” Erik’s God encouraged Erik’s fervor for the female form—this would be his first dip into the abyss since he was chosen by Badoru.

Erik brushed off his God’s warning and pounced on the willing prey. Erik hadn’t made it back two steps in the break room before Stella jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. “Damn. You even finer up close.” Her tongue moseyed into his mouth and one thing led to another that afternoon... 

~

Chantilly straightened her hat on her head and licked her teeth for any lingering lipstick as she walked into the clubhouse. Black women of all shades flittered about as the meeting was about to begin. It was impeccably decorated with a homey touch too. The cream walls had several framed portraits of past events and fundraisers held by the club, on-site and off. 

“Cousin! I so glad you came!!!” Frieda popped out from a back room, and embraced Tilly with so much tenderness. Tilly knew that she meant well, and after all that Frieda did for her, this was the least that she could do. 

“For you, I will do anything. Some familiar faces in here. Jacqueline Shackleford, Mary Boozer, even Edith Jenkins. Y’all don’t leave no stone unturned huh?”

Frieda rolled her eyes, shuffling the stack of papers in her hands. “Give it a chance. Who knows? You might end up enjoying yourself. Just try. For me.” Tilly squeezed Frieda’s shoulder and acquiesced. Frieda moseyed to the front where the rest of the officers began to congregate, while Tilly browsed the food table. “Mmm, this cake looks just as dry. They definitely need my help, gracious.” 

Tilly picked up a few finger sandwiches and found a seat, while some other women turned up the radio by the opened window. “The pastor’s vehicle was found on Johns Island. He was sighted walking along Sullivan Avenue but has not been sighted ever since. Theodore Dunne has been the lead pastor of his church for over 15 years working in ministry with a special interest in children. If you have any idea about his possible whereabouts, please call the tipline. And in other news of the Lowcountry, more and more colored people are becoming business owners and trailblazing into areas of Charleston with a different demographic…”

Several women gasped and clutched their pearls at the pastor’s disappearance. Tilly feigned like she was aghast but inside, she rumbled with laughter. Little did they know, Theodore Dunne would never be seen again. “Ladies, ladies—simmer down now. We’re about to begin.” The sickly sweet drawl of her former arch enemy Melissa nearly turned her stomach. Of course, she would be the president—her bossiness and penchant for getting in people’s business was legendary on Johns island. 

“Welcome ladies to our midweek meeting for the Club for Negro Women of the Lowcountry for the greater Charleston area. I see a whole lot of new faces, and I’m so happy to have y’all with us.” Melissa scanned her eyes among the faces and let them linger a second too long on Tilly. Tilly couldn’t read her expression but she would make sure to personally greet her before the meeting concluded. 

Tilly sipped her tea in silence as she listened intently at the agenda at hand. Roll was called and all of the newcomers were met with a warm welcome after a quick introduction and any possible legacy ties. Idella Morrow, the chapter Vice President, thanked several committees for their efforts for the Spring Fling for the high schoolers on the peninsula. All efforts now needed to be put toward the Cotillion at the end of the year. All of the women seemed so engrossed and engaged, Tilly could sense the sisterhood in the room. Several women began to interject with their suggestions and contributions to the cause. 

“My sister does hair out of her home, she could do some of the young ladies’ hair.”

“I’m a seamstress, please send the girls and boys to me for their gowns and suits.”

“We should fry some fish after the men’s softball games to raise money for the households unable to cover those costs right now, y’all know we right there on the water.”

“You’re just as valuable to this community as these women are. Show what you can do. Be comfortable with being uncomfortable.”

Timidly Chantilly raised her hand in a fit of courage from her mother. “Ladies, I am a professional pastry chef. I actually have a bakery opening in the very near future off of Meeting Street. I would be honored to to assist in any bake sales and take care of the cake for the Cotillion as well.” 

“Aren’t we so lucky to have such an addition as Chantilly Davenport? The Club of Negro Women of the Lowcountry would is made better with your presence after such tragic circumstances that fell over your family. You’re looking much better these days, isn’t she ladies?” They all begin to clap for her, enraging Tilly. Bitch still knew how to capitalize on an opportunity to embarrass her. Maybe Tilly would become a permanent fixture; let’s see how Missy would like that. “Stay your hand, Chantilly. Her time will come.”

Fixing her lipstick, Mrs. Warner perked up to throw her hat in. “Well for all you moms with sons, y’all know y’all can come to my husband’s barbershop for their haircuts. I also have gotten some intel on that colored Yankee shaking up King Street.” She was so sure of herself by the way she twisted her lips up. 

“Now now ladies, we are not ones to gossip! Although he is quite handsome. What’s the fella’s name?” Missy inquired, nibbling on the cap of her pen. 

“His name is Erik Stevens and he’s from Massachusetts. He was in the Navy and was in the service during Korea. Said the things us colored folk down here experiencing made him want to do something! He’s quite the looker….” 

Sipping her tea to get the nasty taste out of her mouth, Tilly’s heightened intuition confirmed everything she already deduced. Mrs. Warner wasn’t just keeping her marital bed to her husband; it was written all over her face. Erik Stevens. The Yankee vet that shook up the lowcountry. With a smile like that, he has to be up to no good. 

~

Davenport Desserts & More would be opening in the next month. Tilly was still waiting on an industrial mixer to be delivered, and she could have sworn the electrician would be by to check the circuit breaker by 2. Here it is, coming up on 3:15, and a no show so far. 

These were the times she hated. With a snap of a finger, Ursilene could speed things along. But she didn’t want to overstep. Ursilene was an asset and the catalyst for change in her life, which is why she had to be discerning. She still had to live and be normal in Charleston and behave as normal. So human problems still plagued her. It kept her humble.

She painted the inside of the bakery sea foam green just like Ursilene’s colors. The wall facing the street was getting an extra coat when the slow wheeze of an old muffler came trudging down Meeting Street. On instinct, her stomach dropped into her butt.

Officer Josiah Morton was the resident hard ass, dying to prove a point. Charleston was very segregated and he would do anything in his power to keep it that way. Yet Josiah had a wandering eye that left him full of self hatred. Black women were beneath him and yet they occupied his mind. A sick combination of contradictions with too much power at his disposal. The police cruiser came to a halt in the front of the bakery. 

The electric sign was on its way and there was still paper on the windows shielding the inside. Tilly hadn’t known that the officer was approaching until she felt the pull from Ursilene. “He’s here to intimidate. Stay on guard, and he’ll leave.”

Tilly’s hand shook a bit painting upward with the paint roller. This particular pig was an incessant nuisance for this community and by the way his chest was poked out with that slimy smile of his—he’d been waiting to corner Tilly. 

“Officer.”

“You working for some folks here, gal?” His sly eyes roamed Tilly’s body and lingered on her round bottom in her overalls. She wanted to kill him where he stood.

“Not quite, Officer. Seems that luck has turned in my favor, I own this place.” She had the audacity to look in this white cop’s eye because she was a Davenport and they were proud people. Tilly saw how he ogled her with no regard for how she felt, and that ungodly anger swirled in her chest again. The slimy officer twirled a kinky ringlet of Tilly’s mane tied under a bandana, leading it down her arm. 

“You’ll have to make me something special once you’re all opened up, gal. I’ll be sure to pop up and every now and again….make sure you don’t get outta hand.” Tilly gulped down her ire until a smooth candy red Camaro parked behind the police cruiser. There’s no way..

“Everything okay here baby? I apologize for being a little late, I had to square away with Jerry before I closed up. I see we have a visitor..” Erik swaggered right up to Tilly, and gently brushed the officer aside and placed those unbelievable lips on her neck. The sensation that flowed through the both of them was unnatural, much like what had occurred already. Yet it felt ancient and familiar. 

Erik’s hand guided her face to his and they stared at each other momentarily before the officer cleared his throat. The haze wasn’t totally broken between the pair but Tilly was able to separate herself from him. However, not far enough to spoil the act. “This is Officer Josiah Morton, baby. One of Charleston PD’s best and brightest.” 

Erik shook the officer’s hand and looked him square in the eye. Erik easily was in a different weight class than the officer and stood almost a head above him. “Erik Stevens. United States Navy. Just made my way down south to help some vets and fell in love all the same. Isn’t she a stunner?” 

The hairs on the back of Erik’s neck stood up—he loved to gaze at her mouth specifically her cupids bow. But the wrath fought to overwhelm and it made his spine straight as steel as another cop abused his power. “Control yourself, Erik. Protect her, and that’s all.” 

Officer Morton turned red as a beet at the nerve of this uppity Yankee negro. He did shake his hand while he measured the man up. Josiah knew he would be overpowered man to man….but he had a different kind of power to aid him that Erik couldn’t access. “Stevens, is that it? You serve in Korea?”

“That’s right Officer. With the seals. We did what needed to be done.” Erik squeezed his arm around Tilly, and clenched his jaw. The tension was very high in this small space, and Tilly made sure to diffuse the pressure. “Well Officer, as you can see we have everything under control. Thank you for your….initiative to keep an eye on this community.”

She pinched Erik on his side and his head whipped towards her, with confusion and anger all in his features. The officer slowly dragged back to his cruiser and left them in a cloud of exhaust smoke. 

“I’ve beat men up for much less with the shit you just pulled. You don’t know me!” 

“Oh Miss Davenport, surely you don’t mean that. You played it tough, but your knight in shining armor came to save the day. You ain’t know?”

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[allzelemonz]

Scent: Micah Bell X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Micah Bell is his own warning, bottom Micah and top reader, Micah is a little creepy (I coulda made it so much worse), he’s obsessed with how you smell, finger sucking, spit as lube, anal fingering, anal sex Summary: When your mask goes missing from the laundry you find it somewhere very unexpected, getting it back leads to something much more unexpected.

You can’t find it anywhere. Laundry always gets done in camp, one way or another. Sometimes things get lost, it happens, but this is the most inconvenient time to lose your mask. You’re supposed to be meeting Bill, Arthur, and Lenny to rob a train but you can’t find the mask anywhere.

Mary-Beth says she never saw it.

Tilly says the same.

And Abigail.

Karen is drunk, no help.

Miss Grimshaw asks if you ever gave it to the girls to clean.

You’re sure you did, along with a few other items of clothing. You got everything back from Tilly yesterday, but the mask wasn’t there. You look over your clothes again, at this point just trying to pick out something to ruin so you can cut a new mask from it. Just as you pick out an old shirt you’re willing to part with, you see it. Your mask, crumpled in the hands of Micah Bell.

He’s on the edge of camp, somewhere most people wouldn’t see him, but your tent is angled just right. Micah runs his fingers over the fabric, almost as carefully as he does with his guns. It’s an unsettling sight, proving that he clearly meant to take it. You walk the long way around so he doesn’t see you coming, approaching him in a blind spot like an animal stalking prey.

“Hello, Mister Bell.”

Micah jumps ever so slightly, something you would have missed if you blinked at the wrong time. He turns, tucking the mask into his pocket in the process.

“Hi there, cowpoke.” He says, hiding his guilt with scary efficiency.

You pause for a moment, trying to find a hint of something in his face. “There a reason you took my stuff?”

“No idea what yer talkin’ about.” He dips his head slightly, utilizing his hat to hide his face as he relaxes with his hands comfortably on his gun belt.

“Come on, Micah.” You sigh. “I actually have to go out and make money instead of lazing around camp all day.”

He chuckles. “Good one, cowpoke. I’ll remember that.”

“Just give it back.”

Slowly, he takes the mask from his pocket and turns it over in his hands.

“Don’t think I will.” He says, clearing his throat. “Unless ya wanna try n’ take it from me, cowboy.”

You stare at him for a moment as a sick smile spreads over his face. “Keep it.”

Micah laughs to himself. “Whatever you say.”

You walk away. You’re already late for the train job, you don’t have time for this. The shirt you pulled out is still there and you cut a decent shape out with your knife for a new mask. The job itself goes fine, has a decent take, and the law shows up late. Couldn’t have gone better, especially considering Bill planned it.

When you dismount back in camp you return to your tent to find Micah sitting inside. He has your mask in his hands as he looks it over. As you approach, he peers at you from under his hat. Before you can speak, he holds the mask out to you. You take it from him, not letting your eyes go anywhere else for fear he’ll pull something Micah-like.

“What’s your deal?” You ask, your grip on the mask he’s handed you barely holds it because you wonder if he’s done something to it.

Micah grunts as he stands. “That’s for me ta know.”

You step in front of him when he tries to leave, putting yourself not even an inch from him.

“Don’t test me now, cowpoke.” He says. “I ain’t in the mood.”

You hold the mask between you. “Just tell me why you took it.”

Micah takes the fabric from your hand and carefully looks over your face for a reaction. His eyes hold a steady gaze with yours as he brings it close to his face and inhales long and slow. He closes his eyes for a moment, savoring the scent that comes off of it. He’d taken it from the laundry before it was washed, every drop of blood and sweat from the last couple jobs still intact. You’re not entirely sure what the feeling shooting through you is. This is creepy, the very definition of it, but something about Micah stealing something of yours just to smell it is making a tent form in your pants.

You push his arm out of the way as you step towards him, gripping the collar of his shirt to hold him still as you press your lips to his. Micah steps backwards with you, dropping the mask and resting his hands on your waist. You pull him down to your bedroll, laying him on his back and working quickly at the buttons of his shirt.

“Eager are we, cowpoke?” Micah chuckles, relishing in the feeling of your fingers brushing against his bare skin. “Shoulda done this sooner.”

“Thought you weren’t in the mood.” You mutter, taking off your own shirt.

Micah sighs, his hand trailing down your now bare stomach. “Didn’t know you was so… domineerin’. Makes a man change his mind.”

You lean over him and grip his hair, pulling hard to make him keep his eyes on your own. His eyebrows turn up from the slight pain and his hand falters against your chest.

“What is it that you want, Micah? Just like the way I smell or you want something specific?”

Micah bucks up, searching for friction as his hardness strains against his pants. You pull his hair tighter, warning him to stop.

“Words, Micah. Tell me what you want.”

“Fuck me, cowboy.” He groans, his hands working to unfasten your gun belt.

“That all, Micah?” You remove his hands, unfastening the clasp yourself. “You could’ve just asked.”

Micah watches as you stand and let the privacy flap of fabric fall down. You kneel next to him, taking his remaining clothes off and running your hands over the newly exposed skin before removing your remaining clothes as well. You sit between his legs as your hands wander over his thighs, thicker than they look hidden behind his pants. Micah whispers your name when you near his groin. You look up and find his face expressing more than he could ever beg with words. The hardness in his cold eyes soften completely as they plead for you to touch him. You keep a hand on his thigh as you lean over him and connect your lips. Slowly, you move your hand up his inner thigh and over his balls. He shivers under you and his hands move to grip your waist. You wrap around him, running your thumb over the tip and Micah groans against your mouth.

You bring your other hand up and press a few fingers to his lips. He takes them without argument, closing his eyes as he sucks them. It feels like he’s done this before, running his tongue along your fingers expertly and coating them with heavy spit. It makes your dick twitch against his thigh. You take your fingers back, unable to wait much longer. You grab at the pile of shed clothing and crumble it. Micah takes them, knowing what you want, and puts them under his back so he’s comfortable and positioned well enough for you to have access.

It’s agonizingly slow for both of you as you spit into your hand and slowly massage him open. He isn’t one for noises, gritting his teeth to hold whimpers and groans when you push another knuckle inside. His dick is throbbing by the time you withdraw your hand, satisfied by the stretch he gives. You take the same hand, collecting as much spit into it as you can before rubbing it over yourself to make this easier. Micah watches you with half lidded eyes, struggling not to touch himself.

Finally, you rest a hand on his hip and line yourself up. Micah grips at the fabric of the bedroll beneath him as you press inside, spreading his legs further like a submissive whore. You mutter a few things as you feel him surrounding you, warming every inch despite only a small part being inside of him. When you bottom out, Micah shutters and you lean back over him to connect your lips and distract him from the pain of being stretched. He groans into it, not afraid to make noise if it’s muffled. You start slow, just for a moment, before quickly setting a harsh pace. Micah’s hands wander over the bare skin of your torso, gripping tightly when a thrust is particularly deep. You break the kiss, moving to his neck as you slam into him. Micah takes heavy stolen breaths before you knock them away, fucking him harder than you thought you could. You leave marks along his neck, wanting him to remember this for a while.

You pull back, grabbing his hips as you double your efforts. You slam into him and move a hand to pump his neglected dick, doing your best to match your own thrusts. Micah looks lost in his own bliss as he gazes down at the sight of you jerking him. He releases, putting a hand over his mouth as he moans and mutters your name mixed with a string of curses. You return your hand to his hip, gripping tighter as you chase your end. The sight of Micah’s cum covering his stomach and the feeling of his muscles clenching around you send you over and you release into him with a few last thrusts.

Micah hums as you pull out. “I really shoulda done this a long time ago.”

You fall next to him, the heat and the sweat covering your body becoming evident in the absence of the pleasurable distraction. Micah rolls to his side, a hand turning your head to give him access to your lips as he kisses you slowly.

“Ya still smell good, cowboy.” He says, groaning as he inhales deeply. “Might get me all worked up again.”

“Never took you for the type, Micah.”

He chuckles. “Don’t let just anybody fuck me like that, cowboy.”

You reach up to brush his hair out of his face. “That right?”

“Carefull.” He clears his throat. “I might take ya next, show ya how to treat a fella properly.”

[yuckydraws]

So what your saying is skelly would know first about baby and could possibly be the one to tell s/o about it

Like " so you know how we having been trying for a baby for a while now"

But what if we put a little angst, like what if s/o has begun to lose hope of every having one but bam skelly smell baby and now gets to tell sad s/o the good news.

What if it was sweet swap papaya and horror papyrus becoming dads

This ask is referencing this one.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bee:

He'd like kids at some point. He's not itching to start a family like some of the guys, but he's just always sort of had it in his mind that it's something he wants eventually. His magic is relatively healthy, but, like with human pregnancies, it's not a surefire shot every try - even with magic involved. So it's very possible to have a bit of trouble. Perhaps the intent isn't just right, there's subconscious doubts, or there's the regular ol' biological hang-ups. It doesn't bother him as much when it takes a few tries (he's excited, of course, but monsters live a long time - he doesn't feel the rush that you do) but he can see that it's really getting to you. So, when he finds out that another attempt worked? He'll put his woodworking skills to good use and whittle a babybones shaped charm to attach to your keychain. The next time you reach for your keys and notice the adorable addition, he'll be nearby to confirm the good news.

Tilly:

He's actually one of the guys who doesn't really want kids. Mostly due to his own insecurities and he's also accepted that it's probably not possible with his wonky magic. He could change his mind on this, though, if his partner really wanted kids. After an honest heart to heart about how much of a struggle it will be to even conceive, and how it's going to take a lot of patience from both of you - he could be convinced. In this situation, he's just as discouraged as you are when it's taking so long to get nothing - mostly because he can see your disappointment and internalizes it. Another failure on his part. So when it actually works?? He's beyond ecstatic. He won't be able to keep the news to himself for long, you'll likely know the moment he does... because he's going to cry tears of joy. Big, globby tears the moment he catches that slight change in your scent - and he'll quickly pull you in for a tight hug as he relays the news.

[lucawrites11]

i saw this tweet so you know what it's time for...

The Tillies Have a Problem: How Do They Solve It?

First of all: What is the problem?

The backline, they have conceded 8 goals in 2 matches. That is a HUGE problem. Mackenzie Arnold isn't the problem in goal, she's been consistent. The problem is Clare Hunt.

The front line, they can't score and they struggle with no striker to act as a focal point in the box and to play through and only one truly in the squad.

Katrina Gorry has been returning from injury and been consistently poor in midfield.

The solution to most of these are simple especially in the frontline. I'd propose a frontline that looks like this in an ideal world.

It's not too positive, Australia needs to take on a defensive shape for the match against the USA in order to deal with their threats going forward. Gallop as a naturally central midfielder and alongside the talent in the wings of Fowler and Foord, the players can track back with speed and leave Heyman forward as a focal point of a counter attack. However, this requires Yallop to be fully fit which may not be possible.

In the case that she isn't, this is my proposed line up. For both of these line ups, Heyman does not seem able to play a full match but I would like to see her play the first half to place Australia on a good front foot with confidence going into a second half where an early substitution could see Vine replace her in both line-ups. This again allows for trackbacks but brings on Australia's more talented attack.

The next problem is the midfield pairing. Kyra Cooney-Cross needs to be there. Katrina Gorry shouldn't and Clare Wheeler should. Wheeler has been so consistent when she enters that field of play and has been crucial in defensive and attacking movements. Her passing is exceptional and painfully underrated. Gorry can be a player that Australia turn to to bring the fire off the bench.

And the biggest problems: The Defence.

The tweet above proposed a backline where Torpey takes on a role at left back. However, her natural positioning is as a right back and she's relatively inexperienced. As a result, I would prefer to see a line up like this.

Catley is very effective as a CB and I believe her and Kennedy can partner with each other very effectively. Ellie has not played much at LB but she's an experienced player with an experienced head that Torpey doesn't have. I believe the Tillies will get enough from Ellie at LB and will get the best from Torpey and that combination is needed.

Alternatively, Polks could be brought into the backline to create this.

Where Carpenter and Catley can be used to their fullest and an experienced CB is brought into the backline. Polkinghorne has been more effective and consistent across the backline this season than Hunt and I would prefer to see her but she's had little play time which is concerning.

Now please stick any of these pictures together to create the full line up :))

Do people want Spain next?

[rainbow--panic]

I write a lot of rdr2 myself, but I don't have many people who write for me!

I'd love to see someone elses take on Arthur with a chubbier woman who also happens to be a virgin, i am a slut for him in all directions and I'd love to see someone elses writing for him!!!

If you don't get to it don't worry about it!! But i figured I'd ask if you're taking rdr2!!

Dun du du daaaaaaaaa

and just like that your request is severed, hot ans spicy for ya

hope you enjoy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pairing:Arthur Morgan x Chubby!Virgin!Reader

Warnings:NSFW, Bit of self body hate, Being r@wdogged by a cowboy

Only lightly proof read this as I am very tired and want to nap

MINORS DNI

It was the middle of the afternoon and you and Arthur were planning on heading into Rhodes to get some supplies from the general store. You had gotten a list from Pearson of everything you needed, plus a small list of some other essentials needed around camp from Hosea and Dutch. You had changed into the one nice dress you had, which was reserved for days going into town, much like this one, and special events outside of camp. As you walked out of your tent you quickly locked eyes with Arthur. It hadn't been long but he was waiting for you and put his arm out for you to wrap your arms around as the two of you made your way to the wagon.

Arthur helped you up and then got up himself, taking the reins and riding out of camp. You held onto his right arm loosely as you laid on him, enjoying his company.

"So how have you been, dear? I know we haven't had a chance to be together lately with Dutch havin me run around like a chicken with its head cut off" Arthur said with a grin. You smiled at him, Arthur always......had a way with words, I guess you could say.

"Oh I've been alright, just dealing with Ms.Grimshaw bossin me around as if I'm just a no good lil hussie" Arthur chuckled. "Well ain't ya?" he jokingly asked, you playfully smacked his arm.

"Only for you Arthur" You said as you kissed his cheek.

Though he may have never admitted it to you, he loved leaving camp to be with you. It's not that he didn't want to tell you or never actually wanted to admit he loved you, it was more that he couldn't bring the right words together to say it. He loved the gang, he would gladly die for the gang, he knew you of all people were loyal to the gang, but if he had the chance to go live with you someplace beautiful where no one could ever find yall, he would. When you joined the gang it was no different then when Karen, Mary Beth, or Tilly joined. But with the way you were, how hard you worked in all the different camps, and the way you seemed to light up a room, it brought a strange feeling to Arthur, one he hadn't felt in a long time, back when he was younger and with another woman who he knew could never truly love him enough to stay by his side.

"You know, I am so glad Micha is gone" A smile was plastered across your face. "For now, anyways" Arthur added. It's been a little while since Arthur had busted him out of prison and now he's still hiding out somewhere behind Strawberry. You looked at Arthur and frowned. "Ain't there a way we could get Dutch to kick him out of the gang? I know I ain't of power to make requests like that but-" You trailed off, looking at the road ahead.

Safe to say Micha didn't get along with anyone in camp, especially you. Micha was the type of man who liked women to be, as he said, 'woman shaped not boar shaped' to which he immediately got an ass whoopin by Charles on Arthur's behalf as Arthur was out that night robbing a train. Arthur nudged you and smiled. "When I get the chance to, I'll shoot 'em for ya" both of you erupted into laughter. Micha was only good at causing problems but you both knew that somehow he was a part of Dutches' master plan.

"Don't you worry little missy, when he comes back I'll make sure to make it clear to him that if he messes with my girl, I'll deal with 'em'' He wrapped an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him as he planted a kiss on your lips. As you part, a sigh escaped your lips. It always feels so nice to be alone with Arthur. At camp he has to show himself around as the top gun who fears no man. After all he is, but alone he's able to calm down and relax to your touch, he wants nothing more than for you to be his and for you to be happy.

The wagon stopped on the side of the store and the two of you went in. You began to look around with Arthur but then he split off to speak to the shopkeeper about rhodes. You noticed a mirror off to the side of the store. Wasn't a huge mirror, but it was big enough for people to see their whole bodies, more than likely put in by the shopkeeper so people could see what they look like in the clothing he sold. You looked at yourself in the mirror at both a front and side angle. You had never been too concerned about your figure, after all the bigger you were the more of you to love, but what Micha said had unfortunately got to you. He always found a way to get to people and now you started to imagine yourself looking more and more uglier. 'How could Arthur love someone as hideous as me?' you had asked yourself at one point. You really hadn't changed much from when you first joined the gang and even before then, but now your looking at yourself through hateful eyes you had seemed to change immensely.

Arthur came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and giving you a kiss on the neck. "Hey beautiful, whatcha doing?" he asked as if he hadn't been watching you from the moment you walked up to the mirror, with an expression showing your disgust for yourself. Your face grew red as you brushed it off saying 'nothing', the last thing you wanted was for Arthur to worry about your mentality. He held you for a few more moments before releasing you. The two of you went about your business in the shop and gathered all of the supplies needed. The shop keeper had offered to get the wagon all loaded since it was a decent amount of supplies and figured it would take a while. Arthur agreed to let him do it and decided that the two of you could go and have some fun. "Come on, women.''He said, waiting for you by the door. He held it open for you like a proper gentleman. He was always sweet on you and you loved it, so kind and gentle and yet so strong and fierce.

"Where are we off to Arthur?" Sweetly asking as you took his hand. "Well I figured we head off to the hotel, get a room while we're waiting and spend some time together." You could tell he was thinking of something, his eyes looked at you differently, not in a bad way, or so you hoped. Yall walked into the hotel and there just so happened to be a room for rent. You made your way up there and opened the door to see..........it wasn't as bad as the outside. In fact it wasn't bad at all. The inside was lovely. The bed was made up, the walls were a nice dark red with some black patterning, there was a chimney to keep warm in the winter, and the carpet looked as soft as could be. You sat yourself atop the bed as you looked around the room in awe, then to Arthur.

"So what is it yer planning? Finally gonna take me like a babe in the woods now?" You asked half jokingly. Not that you would mind. You've never actually had sex before and for how long you and Arthur had been together you would have thought he'd have taken you by now. You smile, then he starts walking towards you, hands at his sides. When he gets to your feet he bends down, placing his hands at either side of the bed as he leans into you and places a deep, passionate kiss on your lips. Moments later when he breaks it off, you are left slightly panting, wanting more.

"(Y/N), I see the way you look at yourself in that mirror, I've heard every goddamn awful thing Micha has said to you and the way he laughs at your figure, but he doesn't matter, he ain't with you because, to put it straight, he can't handle having a beautiful women such as yourself at his side. He doesn't deserve a woman like you and therefore he ain't got none." He grabs your right hand with his left, gently as he looks deep into your eyes.

"You are my everything, you are so beautiful to me, I would rather die than live a day without ever meeting you. You are the reason I love coming back to camp, you are the reason I love early mornings and late nights, I want you to be with my till the end, and I want you to be mine, if you'll have me" He finishes with a rasp in his voice, bringing your hand to his face and kissing it. You are left there with tears forming in your eyes and cheeks burning. You struggle to find words as you are left speechless. Never before have you been able to find a man who treats you so tenderly, who opens up to you, and values your time.

Taking in a deep breath, you say "Arthur, I love you so and I would love to be yours till the end, and I would greatly love if you were to take me here and now" He smiles and nods, putting his hat on the nightstand before grabbing your waist on either side and kissing you passionately, slowly lowering you to the bed as he begins to rub your hips, then moving slowly to your thighs. You try not to laugh as you gently push him away. "Arthur, perhaps we could get somewhere if our clothes were off, hmm?" He smiles sweetly at you. "'Scuse me there missy, I was trying to take it slow for you, considering' I'm yer first after all."

The both of you had gotten up and undressed, now you were embarrassed being in the nude with your lover but he didn't seem to mind as he took you in. He grabbed you and held you close, planting kisses all along the side of your neck and shoulder, meanwhile you could feel his dick getting harder. You draped your hands on his shoulders and soon enough they started to travel down to his chest. You decided that you should be brave and make the first move to initiate something, as he said he was taking it slow for you but you had wanted him for so long you could hardly wait any longer.

As you were softly moaning from the hickies he was giving you, you started to gently grasp his cock and start rubbing it. Taking his length in, feeling how thick it was. He grunted, obviously enjoying someone else touching it for a change. That's when you decided to push him on the bed then bent down. Karen had walked you through how to please a man properly, gave you all the tips and tricks you would need cuz she said "You never know when Arthurs gonna take you out on the woods and expect you to bend to his every whim."

Arthur looked at you, obviously intrigued. He knew you had never been with another man before, you had told him this many times, and yet here you were taking the lead. You spit on his tip and began to spread it around as a makeshift lubricant. You licked his tip before taking it in. Slowly you bobbed your head, taking in more and more of him over a small amount of time. Grunts frequentied out of his mouth as he leaned back, using his elbows for support, head leaning back. It was a sight to behold, here you were, pleasing one of the roughest, toughest, outlaws of the west. You held on to one of his thighs as you quickened your pace, his hand found his way into your hair. His grunts become louder as you edge him. Before his climax you hold your head down as he cums in your mouth. Warm, salty, liquid filled your mouth as you pulled back, coughing up some of it. Breathing heavily, Arthur quickly got up and apologized. "I'm sorry darlin', I don't know what came over me." He said

You wiped any remaining cum from your lips as you regained your breath and laughed. "If I knew you were that needy I would have taken you to town myself long ago." He chuckled as he helped you to the bed. He laid you down on your back and placed himself at your entrance. His thumb had traced small circles around your entrance before landing on and rubbing your clit. A surprised gasp left your lips as you felt this new sensation.Arthur humed, pleased with himself.

With his free hand he grabbed his throbbing cock and gave it a quick stroke. It was obvious that he was far too excited to do this with you as touched you, then rubbed his tip on your entrance. As his tip went over your now sensitive bud you had let out a small mew. Arthur leaned down and planted a kiss on your lips, tasting some of his own cum that lingered on your lips. He grabbed onto your legs and spread them, then with one of his hands he inserted himself into you, slowly. It was slightly painful at first, and Arthur took note of how tight you were, having trouble fitting all the way in. He let out a gruff "Damn women '' as he made his way completely inside of you. As you adjusted to him, some tears fell from your eyes. He kissed all over your face, cheek to cheek, landing on your lips.

"Darling' just let me know when you're ready" He had said between kisses. With a sigh and a wiggle of your hips, you looked at him and nodded. Gripping your thighs, he spread them once more. Slowly he thrust out then back in. The pace stayed slow until you bucked your hips.With a grunt he quickened the pace. You moaned, it felt so invigorating, finally having him inside you made you feel whole. You loved the way his strong arms held you, how no matter how badly you wanted to squeeze him in your thighs, your strength was nothing compared to his. The thought that, if he very so wanted, he could crush you right now. He could put a hand around your neck and fuck the living daylight out of you, could have you in a complete moaning mess, all sweaty and dumb.

"Arthur~" You moaned. He seemed pleased with that. "Mmm? Yes darlin? what can I do for ya?" He smirked. He could see it in your eyes, you wanted more. He began going rougher, he started to drill into you faster. Your moans became louder and more frequent. Your eyes started watering up as you closed them. "C'mon darlin, look at me" with that your eyes snapped back open to look at Arthur in all his glory. The light showed off his skin as the two watched each other for mere moments before locking lips together. Arthurs pace not faltering for a second as he mercilessly pounded into you. You felt a knot in your stomach as he went on.

"A-Arthur I-I Oh~" you tried to tell him but your moans had overpowered you. "Already, Sweetheart? maybe you were needier than me!" He laughed as he trudged into you, letting you reach your climax with his following soon after. You were not both just laying on the bed, panting, holding each other in your arms. With a kiss and some pillow talk, yall cleaned yourself up and made your way back to the wagon. All the while getting stares from other people in the area, including those in other rooms, the hotel clerk, some men and women outside, and even the man who had conveniently finished loading your wagon. Arthur helped you up once more and pulled himself up after you. For the short trip back to camp you remained on his lap, loving on him while you still could. Maybe one day he'll bring you out here again, can't say that the clerk will rent ya another room though.

[hmshermitcraft]

Now Pearl has kids or adopted them. She has a wolf hybrid and a cat hybrid. She found them on the streets and took them in. But now... their gone.

Pearl knew it was illegal! Yes, the house she lived in was crappy! But... she still didn't expect the law to find her. The kingdoms laws state that she is in the wrong, but she can't be right?

She was fired from her job and even lost money as her family secretly took it from her.

They banished Pearl from the kingdom. She can believe it. All she did was take in Froggy and Tilly. Guess she failed them.

She didn't notice the 4 people walking in her direction. Why would she

She's still caught up on her grief. Froggy and Tilly were like siblings to her. They were just kids who needed a chance, somebody to look past their hybridity and see how sweet they are. Now they'll be forced onto the streets once more, under now scrutiny this time. Whilst her parents used it as an opportunity to seize what little assets she had due to her exile.

She has nothing but her clothes. All she can hope for is to catch a lift with a passing merchant and try to start again somewhere new.

It's when she's slowed down in the evening, looking for a place to camp, that the four catch up. Pearl doesn't notice them. If she did, she wrote it off so quickly she never processed it. After all, who would come after her? The fact she sympathised with hybrids was well-known, and led to her having few acquaintances.

So, she assumes the four are going to rob her. Obviously, why else would you approach a lone woman as the sun sets? Too bad, she has literally nothing to her name! Less than, because she doesn't even have a surname anymore.

The surprise comes when two of the four hold their hands up nervously, whilst the one in the centre steps forward. Highlighted in the last rays of sun, she can see the shape of wings behind him as they flutter in the breeze. One of the others has a pair of fluffy ears, another a pair of curled horns.

They introduce themselves as Grian (wings), Scar (ears), Impulse (horns) and Mumbo (teeth, apparently, those are not human teeth.) They've been working to help hybrids in the kingdom escape and reach a safe place. Though it can be anywhere, the four have set up their own community, only a day or two's travel away on foot. It's hidden in the thick of the forest, perfect to keep them safe.

They saw what happened with Pearl, and they want to know if she can help. There's a lot of kids there that need somebody to look after them. They can provide board and food - they've got plenty of it! They'll even pay her if she takes a role in the children's centre!

The four look so earnest whilst telling her about it. There's something in their eyes, something that makes it clear this is out of love. It's been too long since Pearl's seen that.

She makes them promise first that they'll get Tilly and Froggy out. Then she accepts their offer, letting them guide her towards their community.

She very much hopes she gets to spend more time with them after this journey is over.

[huskynotwolf]

Little Soldiers

-song by the Crane Wives

-fanfic by The Crazy Husky

No. 6

(Drums: Impulse)

Apparently, Joel had caught Ren and Martyn lip-locking.

Impulse seemed to be upset that not only Tango and Etho did not acknowledge him, Skizz stayed away from him most of the time. Pearl had also managed to get an actual wolf as a pet (named Tilly) and keeps it in her room. Jimmy (with the broken leg) was finally out of the infirmary and had crutches.

Pearl later broke his arm.

Scott was wandering around the base when he saw BigB and Pearl playing with a frog. They were squealing about how funny and cute it looks, then they began discussing how to breed them to scare Tango. Scott had no idea what they meant until Pearl stabbed one of the baby frogs with a blunt tooth right in front of Tango, and he kept his distance from the two for the rest of the day as they went around scaring people. It wasn’t long before BigB actually murdered the frog in front of Grian and Martyn and scared them really badly. They later revealed it was a toy and the real frog was in an enclosure.

Impulse then had the idea of singing Little Soldiers for the Treebark Duo, as it was Ren’s birthday coming up. Pearl did agree (in the terms of Impulse making another frog dummy for the pair to murder) and had practised the lyrics. Scott sat this one out so the latter only included Pearl, Gem and Impulse.

Scott sat in the audience as Ren and Martyn was pushed on the floor (Ren sat on his cape bedsheet) then watched. This time, everyone gathered to listen. Scott had also hidden all the birthday supplies and was waiting patiently for them to finish then ambush Ren. He’d told almost everyone (with the exception of Martyn) so they all knew what was coming up.

“~~~” She began playing with Impulse on the drums. “On the broken backs of all the words we spared, like little soldiers in the trenches.” Gem started, taking in the fun of music. “It was a march we made towards ruin and despair but we held hands all the while.”

“I swear that I loved you, I swear that I loved you.” Pearl sung. Gem joined in and vocalised, “I swear that I loved you. I swear, I swear~” Scott especially enjoyed it when they play together. With Pearl not constantly trying to kill anyone, and Gem not chasing random people around and trying to break their legs, but then he felt guilt swelling in his belly.

“Beneath the table you would offer up my bones, and all the dogs would lick your fingers.” He thought about Impulse. It wasn’t earlier that Etho had told Scott that he thinks Impulse had left TIES to join them, but Scott replied with he’s just trying to meet more friends. Since then, Impulse and TIES had been in a lot more arguments that usual. “And I dragged you through every room inside our home, but you still held me at night.” Speaking of unwavering loyalty…

“I swear that you loved me, I swear that you loved me,” the song reminded him of back when he was still in the Flower Husbands group with Jimmy, when Martyn and Ren would run around and act like drama queens. Then there would be Scar and Grian, who is definitely worth mentioning. Those two are basically soulmates in every way shape or form. “I swear that you loved me. I swear, I swear,” Gen was going at it at full, with Impulse enjoying his time with the girls. Lizzie and Etho sat together by the back, apparently muttering about Joel or something, because her husband whipped around and dove at her, causing her to yelp.

“We didn't give up, we wouldn't dare surrender. It was an honest loss,” Scott heard Impulse’s voice for the first time. The girls seemed to know like they rehearsed it. “Now the aftermath will ring with songs you've sung, all of our words sent home in boxes.” Grian eyed Martyn as he gripped Ren’s hand tight. “I fought with tooth and nail before the flag had flown, but you were already gone.” Ren cringed at that verse but said nothing.

“I'll swear that I loved you, I'll swear that I loved you, I'll swear that I loved you. I swear, I swear.” Gem sounded like she really and finally enjoyed something for real. Scott’s fingers drifted over to a button hidden from sight. Tango and Mumbo gave him a thumbs up. “I'll swear that I loved you, I'll swear that I loved you. I'll swear that I loved you, I swear, I swear~”

As they came to a close, Mumbo nodded and Scott pressed the button. Immediately birthday decorations popped up from the ceiling and Tango showered Ren with confetti. “Happy Birthday Ren!” Everyone yelled. Impulse, Gem and Pearl abandoned their instruments and went over to congratulate.

Ren seemed shocked. He felt so surprised he fell over on his back. Martyn giggled and stepped back. “Best party ever,” Ren breathed, and Grian giggled. Tango and Mumbo did a victory dance for successfully setting up the deco.

“Dogwarts!” Pearl laughed and waved the red and white flag. Martyn, who seemed confused and shocked at the same time, staggered towards the wall and stayed there, breathing heavily. “Yo what,” he gasped. “You gave me a heart attack.” Scott laughed, patted his back and smiled. “I understand.”

Suddenly Martyn’s whole body jerked and he collapsed on the floor. Scott tried to help him up, but he wouldn’t budge and instead muttered, ”Summer falls, destruction calls. The sun’s gaze, the moon’s raze, star of forgiveness, running sands of vengeance, the Earth and its loneliness. Come together in a single piece, or shatter forever without peace. The eyes watch, may not interfere. Crimes among the stars, the outcast among others. Paid by the unforgiving sea, bought back by the singing moon, or the hourglass continues falling.” Then he fainted.

Scott knew it. The Watchers are actually intervening. And he knew exactly what will happen.

Next

Previous

[grison-in-space]

Okay, so: I've mentioned that I have service oriented tasks in mind for Matilda, but I haven't actually talked a bunch about what I'm aiming for. In part this is because one of the biggest things I would find supportive doesn't seem to be a Thing at the moment.

Generally speaking, I need an executive function support dog. I think I can make this happen without overtaxing my dog, but I'm getting stuck thinking about what I want to teach and how to chain it, so I'm going to think out loud for a minute.

So: autism, ADHD, constant masking, and an objectively stressful ten years in Texas (fire! flood! school stabbing! literal abandonment! we have them all!) has left me with some burnout problems. I dissociate a lot and I need to figure out how to train that as an alert, but especially in the evenings I tend to get stuck. Most of my coping techniques relied on either stores of energy I largely just don't have or on anxiety over consequences to serve as a motivator. While I can still do my job pretty well (thanks, hyperfocus!), I miss a lot of care opportunities (things like: consume lunch. Drink liquids. Take afternoon meds). And I can tune out anything at this point.

I have found that there's a distinct sensory component to this, though: visual and especially tactile stimuli work way better than auditory ones. It's just that there isn't really anything that can do a mix like that right now. I've rigged some things to help but it's not ideal, and I've passively/accidentally trained every previous dog I've had to sit outside flailing distance and subvocalize until I get up anyway; surely it should be possible to teach a dog to help with this. Say, by progressing from a touch or lick to a nose punch to crawling into my lap to lick my face on a timed cue.

By the way, friends, you lose shit in burnout. Learn from my mistakes; try to mask less, fuck. I have a lot of grief I'm still processing over things I did ten or fifteen years ago that I can't do today; my capacity is just so much lower than it used to be. I am on an upswing--the move helped a lot, just getting away from Texas, and the new job environment has been helpful, and so have some med adjustments... but I'm not as fast or as hard driving as I used to be, and there are some things I won't get back.

Anyway. Plans. Public access groundwork is actually not worrying me too badly at this stage: we're working on dog reactivity, foundations, and settling, and she sees enough weird places I'm not too concerned about now. But it's the tasking pieces I'm hung up on. I have thoughts, at least, for the dissociation alerts and grounding part of the problem: I know how I hold myself and how I don't move in certain ways when I'm dissociated, and "touch" shaped into licking my hand or nudging me is something I can use for that.

But what would be really helpful is setting alerts for Tilly to go into Pester Mode on a timer. I think I can use a phone timer for this, probably, although I would really like it if I could make Gcal notifications work as a cue to set timers to. I can use "human stands up" as my stop cue for the behavior, and the start cue is of course the timer itself. Once summoned by the timer, I know what I would like her to do.

I'm just sort of stuck on how to go about starting this. I do not want to invoke Pester Mode without the timer, and I would ideally like Pester Mode to be reliably turned off if I stand up. I do not want to trigger Pester Mode for anyone but me. I can think of like half a dozen ways this task could go hideously wrong.

It's just that it would be so helpful if I could program a bunch of very specific reminders based on my Gcal schedule and then have a stubborn little dog break any hyperfocus and help me transition into a new behavior at those periods. Unfortunately, now that Matilda is old enough to begin thinking about beginning to shape the beginnings of this, I find myself stuck. What would you do, dogblr?

[izelthewashbear]

The heart of scarlet (fragment)

She flinched as the sound of barking reached her up at the top. Pearl looked down right away, tightening her grip on one of her crescent-shaped sickles. If her only friends were alert, she couldn’t just stand by and watch.

“Who’s there?” her voice flew down the tower like a hawk, ready to catch its prey. “Don’t be scared, I don’t bite…” she added with a nasty smirk.

“I know you don’t” she was hit with a calm response. 

Only then, she noticed Cleo approaching the towers, trying their best to keep the dogs at bay. They were not attacking her, but seemed ready to pounce at their keeper’s word. Pearl’s expression softened at once and she sighed.

“You shouldn’t be here, Cleo. Wouldn’t you stay with your soulmate? Or the guy who prefers you over his real one?”

“Actually, I’d rather stay with you. At least tonight” the zombie looked up at her. Despite being several meters above them, Pearl could almost see the conviction in her friend’s voice. Eventually she just rolled her eyes, as to not show too much excitement from finally having someone to talk to.

“Sure, alright. Tilly! Let Cleo up, willya?”

The dogs let out a few more cautious barks, but ultimately didn’t attack. Relieved and a bit abashed, the zombie entered the tower and began climbing up the spiral staircase.

[panda-wearing-pants]

Best Life Series episode #2

S1E2: Joel attempts to get a monopoly on lily pads and dead bushes, Scar takes multiple people's gear in return for reputation points, Cleo steals Pizza, Cleo shows Bdubs and Impulse Pizza, but says it is a different llama named Pepperoni, Scott, Martyn, Joel and Jimmy find a dark oak forest and do a magic trick at monopoly mountain to show Grian and Scar, Martyn starts a raid in the village, Etho tells Scar that Pizza is alive, Scar creates the reputation board, Jimmy brings a cow to his base, but has to hide it after he tells the server that he got it, Cleo leaves a sign in the desert saying Pizza Lives

Dangthatsalongname: The Nether Is MINE Now!

S2E2: Scar tries to kill Joel before they realize they are both boogeys, people start to explore the nether, including Mumbo, who ends up dying, Scar meets Etho and Bdubs in the nether, but it is very obvious that he is trying to kill them, Joel tries to kill Lizzie with a pit trap, but ends up falling in and dying, Lizzie dies to a baby zombie after escaping, B.E.S.T is formed, Grian, Jimmy, Martyn and Mumbo visit Magical Mountain to enchant, Grian discovers the trap and Mumbo kills Joel, but Scar kills Mumbo right after, Lizzie bets on Joel dying first for You Bet Your Life, and wins when Joel kills Scott and is then killed by Pearl, Lizzie buys the enchanter from Scott and Pearl for two lives, Ren gives his allegiance to Lizzie, Mumbo and Grian mine for diamonds, and say that the diamonds are right here (they are not)

Smallishbeans: I Betrayed EVERYONE..

S3E2: Scott and Cleo start a tradition of hitting each other with axes at the start of the session, Impulse and Bdubs makes plans to separate the other duos, Martyn lowers the property value of the valley by building a heart-shaped base, Scar and Pearl use powdered snow to annoy their soulbounds, Pearl helps Jimmy and Tango get a goat horn, but the other members with goat horns agree not to respond to them, Ren finds a dog for Pearl after Tilly 1 dies, Scar starts building a panda sanctuary, Ren is killed by an enderman, and blames Pearl, Grian leaves a gift of bread for BigB

Pearlescentmoon: Far Too COLD!!

S4E2: Joel, Jimmy, and Grian raid the mansion and they all die, Scott and Martyn brainstorm team names, and decide on the Mean Gills, the Bad Boys build Bad Boys Bread Bridge, Joel pushes a TNT minecart off of the Bread Bridge, killing Scar and Cleo, Bdubs and Skizz have a duel, and Skizz wins

Smallishbeans: Baddest Boogey..

S5E2: Lizzie burns the base Cleo made above Lizzie's, Cleo rides around on a pig for half the session, Mumbo suggests that Bdubs should put a globe on his upside-down house, Jimmy builds a base inside of Pearl's to try to get her to say "Get out of here", Gem fills Jimmy inventory with grey stained glass panes, Impulse goes to complete his task, but tells Tango and fails, Etho tries to jumpscare other players and asks, "Did that make you jump?", Jimmy invites the server to a party at Pearl's. Martyn is killed by a piglin brute, Joel starts a cult

ZombieCleo: A PIG DEAL

[deltadescent]

Would you happen to have advice for drawing “people figures”?

I FORGOT ABOUT THIS ONE UHMM... I'm not entirely sure...?

So, for short;

It depends.

For long;

Everyone has different body types, and that reflects when you draw people figures. For each type of form/body type/figure, I'd have to give different advice. For example, look at these characters:

These characters arguably all have different body types, changing based on whether they're flat chested or have a more pronounced chest, if they're muscular or slim, etc. I wouldn't go about drawing someone like Minnow- who has little to no body fat- the same way I would go about drawing someone like Tilly- who has more body fat. Same with characters who have muscles/don't have muscles.

Because of that, it's hard to give advice. There's no RIGHT way to do it, and there's no INHERENTLY wrong way to (unless you're doing it intentionally to stereotype or be offensive).

It helps to break down the bodies into shapes for some (circle or oval for a head, elongated ovals for arm segments, circles for joints, circles/triangles/trapezoids for forming things like chest/stomach/etc.)

I personally just draw one circle and build up the whole body around it like;

THOUGH IF YOU LISTEN TO MY PREVIOUS NARRATIVE ILLUSTRATION PROFESSOR... He told me to work from the feet and upward so you can maintain correct posture. Personally that advice went in one ear and right out the other for me, since my brain just likes to operate a little funky, but if that sounds interesting to you, you could check out ways to do that.

I think my best suggestion is: OBSERVE!!!

Look up different people, look up cartoon characters even, and just observe how they're drawn or shaped. Try to mimic the style even, if it's just for yourself. The best way to learn is from just trying to copy what other people do IN YOUR OWN WAY. You will never fully adapt someone's style ofc or do somethign exactly the way they do it, but looking to their art for examples on how to draw characters can help a ton!!

I'm super unhelpful with art because i work without a sketch most of the time (first thing I draw is the eyes tbh), but I really do suggest looking at other's works and pictures of people, depending on whether you want more realistic or cartoony figures. Just don't trace people's stuff or steal, and you're already doing fine!