#jack said ''ten'' but that was probably just rounding up

[tethered-heartstrings]

I listened to the audio at the end of aperitif and counted nine gunshot sounds, which means Will shot Hobbs once for every girl he victimized; 8 dead with Abigail as his ninth.

[happiest-hotch]

OMG please write about married!Hotch x reader going to a club tearing it up on the dance floor for a BAU night out, and an older Jack happens to be there maybe with his girlfriend and he’s mortified seeing his parents really getting down?

i would dance all over this man

Nights out with the BAU have never gotten less fun. Even as team members changed and through the years you and Aaron were away from the team, first in WITSEC then just to take a break. The plan formulated during your months together in hiding had been to wait until Jack was at college before going back to work

Hanging out at the regular bar was a sign nothing had changed in a decade.

After finishing probably the roughest case you've experienced since you rejoined the team, a team night out was needed, so you happily join Penelope in her mission to drag everyone out.

These days, Aaron doesn't need much convincing. He's more casual after WITSEC, and letting loose a little around the team isn't the worst thing in the world. It probably helps that he's not the boss anymore, and your unit chief also isn't opposed to letting her hair down.

He's only a few drinks in when you're able to convince him to come and dance. Maybe there's some using how much he loves you, but he doesn't protest.

It's hot and sweaty on the dance floor, and you're in a less-than-professional amount of clothing, dancing up on your husband like you're 24.

Aaron keeps his hands firmly on your hips, swaying to the music with you, but what's most sinful is his lips against your neck, very visible to everyone else, and the hard-on in his pants which thankfully remains unnoticed by anyone who's not pressed as hard against him as you are.

Penelope leans over to speak to you, or yell, thanks to how loud the bass is. "He's going to pull a muscle if he keeps dancing like that!" She jokes.

You giggle as you let him spin you around so you're face to face. It's gotten much more heated, and there's no doubt you're grinding provocatively against each other.

You hold his strong forearms, leaning up to whisper something downright filthy in his ear, but he talks first. "Jack."

You chuckle, grimacing. "That's not my idea of dirty talk."

"No." He shakes his head before nodding across the room. "Jack's here."

You pull away from your husband quickly, following his glance across the room before you catch his son. "What's Jack doing here?" You ask in shock. It's definitely a compromising position to be caught in with his dad.

"I don't know," Aaron says, taking hold of your hand and pulling you away from the dance floor and towards his son.

You briefly wonder if it's more or less awkward to acknowledge that he's seen you all over each other. Ignoring it might mean you can possibly look Jack in the eyes again at some point in the next ten years.

There's a girl next to him and you guess it's who he had said he was bringing home to meet you and Aaron during summer vacation. Her dress is probably not what she was expecting to be wearing during a round of meet-the-parents.

"That was awful." Jack deadpans, exactly like his father. "Seriously, I'm not sure how I'm going to burn that out of my memory."

"What are you doing here?" Aaron asks, ignoring the comments that you're struggling not to laugh at.

"Thought you guys were still on a case," Jack explains. "I didn't think I'd catch you dry-humping in a club."

You let out a chuckle while Aaron shakes his head. "Don't say that." He scolds weakly.

"I am so sorry you had to meet them like this." Jack turns to the girl next to him and says.

You offer out your hand to shake hers. "I'm Y/n, and I promise we're not always like this."

Aaron shakes her hand as well, introducing himself. "Yeah, usually our son has far better manners and introduces us to people."

"Usually, my parents aren't engaging in foreplay in the club." Jack teases you both.

You know how to get him back, and you click your tongue. "You don't know that."

It makes both boys' eyes widen while Jack's girlfriend laughs slightly, and the tension is loosened.

"Should we not mention this tomorrow?" She offers, speaking more confidently now that she can read the situation as humorous.

"Deal." You agree for both you and Aaron. "We should go."

"Home to sleep." Jack finishes the sentence for you, raising his eyebrows like a parent would do to their child, rather than the other way around.

Aaron does something you don't expect, frowning. "No promises."

[kinkandkreep]

Heyy can you do J,I,Y,X,V,S,N,E,F,B nsfw alphabet for ratonhnhaké:ton please 😊

Thanks for sending this in hun! Y'all feel free to take a gander at my NSFW Alphabet and send in some more requests! Happy reading! 

Ratonhnhaké:ton:

B= Body Part (favorite body part of their own or their lover's) 

Connor’s favorite body part(s) of his own are his arms

His favorite body part of yours is your lips (he's also quite partial to your cheeks and hands)

Connor admires the strength of his arms, how easily they allow him to carry you, and caress you and comfort you when the occasion calls for it

He likes your lips because they’re soft and oh so kissable

He could spend an eternity just gently kissing you, savoring the way you taste and holding you close *swoon* 

E= Experience (do they know what they're doing ) 

Connor…sort of knows what he’s doing

Initially

He really doesn't really have all that much experience, mostly on account of the fact that, y'know, he's a busy Assassin/Captain/Business Owner🙃

I personally headcanon that Connor lost his virginity to the person he married; in this case, let's say that's you 

In the beginning, Connor is hesitant but very teachable

He really just needed a gentle, encouraging hand to help him along and before long, he’s practically an expert at making you feel good

F= Favorite Position 

Con-con man’s a bit of a vanilla guy so I’d say something intimate like missionary or spooning

He’s also partial to just your basic cowgirl

I= Intimacy (do they prefer to "fuck" or "make love”) 

Connor prefers to “make love” 9 ½ times out of ten

The rest of the time he’s probably hopped up on adrenaline or something and needs to properly “fuck” the energy out

J= Jack Off (do they masturbate & how often) 

I wrote about this once before but I imagine that Connor actually masturbates fairly often

Which probably sounds counterintuitive given that I just said he’s a busy man but just hear me out 😂

In that drabble, I noted that he has a high libido, and, looking at it from the perspective of an average, sexually healthy person, the reader couldn’t always keep up/doesn’t feel like takin’ it to the bed all the time

So, as a remedy to the issue of essentially always being ready to go, outside of like quickies, Connor just masturbates and it helps

Not necessarily a whole lot, but it helps nonetheless 🙃

N= No (turnoffs or flat-out no no's) 

Connor will not hurt you in bed, no matter how you plead and beg and whine and moan

If that’s one of your kinks

Connor’s already lived his life around so much violence and he’s gotten his fair share of scars and injuries, and he would never want to inflict something like that onto you

Yeah yeah, he knows how to be gentle and maintain self control and he could feasibly play rough but he just prefers not to

Connor’s a big ole’ teddy bear ok, just let ‘im be soft 😭

S= Stamina (how many rounds per night, how many nights/times per week)

 Rounds per night: As many as you’re able to go and then some, so if I just absolutely had to give a figure it’d probably be 3-4 

Nights/times per week: Again, as many as you’re up for, but on his own, he could go the aforementioned 3-4 rounds every night of the week

V= Volume (are they loud, do they talk & if so, what kinds of sounds do they make) 

Connor doesn’t talk loudly, but he may whisper sweet words in his native language and even swear in it and English when things get really heated

Other than that, he makes the usual grunts, sharp intakes of air through his clenched teeth and, if you’re fortunate, you may even pull a throaty moan from him on occasion *waggles eyebrows*

X= X-ray (length, girth, any special attributes like piercings, veins, tats, etc.) 

So…here’s the thing

I think we as a community have collectively decided that Connor is, for lack of better term, packin’

He’s big, and I would even imagine he knows it 😏

Let’s say about 8 ½ inches in length, a little greater than half an inch thick, with prominent veins running along both sides 

And that’s not even me being generous

Honestly I could imagine him to be a bit bigger but I don’t want this to become too unrealistic

Even though he’s a fictional character but I digress 🙃

Y= Yearning (a look into their libido) 

As previously mentioned, Connor has quite the libido

Contrary to what one might assume from observing his personality and mannerisms, Connor has a naturally high sex drive and he practically runs on adrenaline, so while he’s not perpetually hard exactly, he’s pretty damn close 😂

Plus him being so adoring of you doesn’t help, simply observing you do the most simplistic things sends his drive through the roof

He’s just in love ok, leave my baby alone 😤

I believe that’s everything this time ‘round. I hope you enjoyed! 👋🏾

[deancaspinefest]

A Fabulous Evening's Apocalypse

Author: MrBotanyB | Artist: BasketcaseBetty

Posting on Monday April 1

Look at it this way: Their trip to the far end of space and time to chase a (very) long shot at freeing Dean from the Mark of Cain could have ended a lot worse than it did. It wasn't even the worst idea they'd ever had. The so-called Restaurant At the End of the Universe loops endlessly in time through the final hours of Creation while guests dance, eat, and drink until the very last of last calls. A consequence of it being a time loop is that anybody who visits can meet everybody else who was ever there. Even a centuries-dead witch who likes the challenge of lifting unbreakable curses. It didn't work out like they'd hoped, but they didn't die. True, Cas did get stranded there for a bit but they got him back. Eventually. So it was fine. That was then. And now, Sam and Dean are out of ideas for getting Cas out of the Empty. Dean has been thinking a lot about realizing important truths too late, and missed chances, and (very) long shots. And he wonders if the key to rescuing the Cas he lost might just be enlisting the help of the Cas he left behind nearly ten years ago. If it doesn't work, at least he'll get to see Cas one more time.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

"I don't know for sure if he's the man from your photo, but they do look awfully alike. He'll probably be in the Fomalhaut Lounge. You can take the service passages," Zmallia said. She stepped back into a particularly shadowy corner and pressed a barely-visible panel. There was a whirr as a door he hadn't noticed slid open. "The fastest way is to follow the signs for the engine room until you get to the stairs, then keep going up until you see the big panel of signs for the different bars," she explained rapidly. "And don't take the elevator unless you want an argument. Obviously," she added.

Dean nodded as if this made any sense at all and ducked into the dimly lit passage. "Good luck!" Zmallia called after him.

And just as the door whirred shut: "Sorry I yelled at you earlier!"

As soon as he had rounded a corner, Dean stopped and leaned against the wall, bracing his hands on his knees. The new round of headache and nausea wasn't quite as intense as what he had felt when he stepped out of the portal, but it was still bad enough he couldn't just power through it.

Going soft in my old age, he thought. It wasn't as painful a thought as it would once have been.

Many flights of stairs and about fifteen minutes later, Dean stepped into a high-ceilinged, softly-lit room decorated in dark golds and blues. It wasn't overly crowded, but it was large enough that Dean couldn't tell right away whether or not Cas was actually here. The "room" was almost a balcony, Dean realized: the longest wall was a waist-high glass railing that provided an unobstructed view of what was left of the dying universe, easily observed through the great transparent dome covering the entire restaurant. A good part of the crowd was gathered near the railing, and many others were nursing drinks at the long curving bar, which was backed by open shelving through which you could see the opposite side of the dome. Dean had just decided to ask one of the waiters if they'd seen Cas when he spotted him behind the bar, polishing a glass and looking perfectly at home, solid and real.

He had thought it might be a shock to see Cas alive again, and it was — the best kind of shock. It was beyond awesome to see Cas right there. The recessed lighting from the bar angled off his cheekbones and made his hair look even darker than it was. His uniform was spotless. He looked like a movie star. He almost looked like he was glowing.

But in a rotten, selfish way, seeing him was disappointing: this Cas lacked five years' worth of experience that had shaped the person who had died for Dean (while Dean had stood there, useless and uncertain.) This Cas had never even imagined knowing Jack. The happiness Dean felt choking his throat just meant he was putting his own greedy feelings ahead of his Cas, the one still trapped in the Empty. The one Dean had come all this way to try to bring home.

But thinking that also felt rotten. Dean knew that this Cas was, literally at this moment, waiting for Dean or Sam to help him get home. Maybe he was worrying that they wouldn't be able to. (Or wouldn't bother.) How did the Cas in front of him deserve less?

(continue reading on Ao3 on Monday April 1)

[pulpandgristle]

II: GUT DEVILS

Pilot ID: Erica Trương, tertiary escort and point-defense operative of the Fledgling Seventh Fleet Status: Active Current Assignment: Supervisor for preliminary acclimation of Pilot ID "Sidewinder"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sortied with the new girl today. The ratty one that still wears Earth denim. The one who cut her hair with the backblast on my mech's heat exchanger.

She ain't shit.

Oh, she'll tell you she is, make no mistake, boasting about her wetwork on the Periphery. Big fuckin' talk for an academy washout. Mercenary piloting isn't something to be proud of, not like the Corps. At least if I die it's for the Septarchy. For something real.

She mocked my umbilical too, the little bitch.

They stuck her with me as a gunner and a haptics backup. Made us share a cockpit too, even though my mech's always been a one-man setup. Command said my injuries made me a liability.

They gave me a babysitter. Fucking horseshit.

If you see any drops in accuracy, it's because of her. She kept misbehaving. I couldn't keep line of sight.

Words carry well in the oxygen medium. Her voice is like a gravel driveway: flat, dark, coarse, dust coming off the words, like she dug them out of her chest.

Out of rubble. Like a brick.

"So, the mech eats for you?"

Of course it does, you fucking idiot. Command won't pay me enough for another jaw. I said yes just to shut her up.

"Can I see?"

Then she just climbed out of her harness. She ran her hands on everything, spidery little fingers pawing at my fucking umbilical with her bare skin, cinching it to see if it hurt.

It did. Kind of. Something like pain. It's why I'm clumsier on the readouts, by the way, Command. Strike it off my record.

"What else can it do for you?"

I told her that Septarchy mechs can make anything, do anything. The cockpit's a womb, after all, it's not special. Pilots just borrow it and pull the body's strings with their fists. Standard procedure.

Every bioframe's been able to do full-body life support for decades. It's why I never leave. Why they grafted my endocrine system and my liver and my pelvis into the wall and filled my torso's empty space with surveillance equipment and gyroscopes.

Then I told her not to fucking touch anything else and to get back in her seat.

She ignored me. Figured she would. Somehow it stung.

Then we took an AP round to the calf and I screamed all undignified and she stole the reins out from under my hands.

She pretended to care that we were live-fire, sat herself in my lap, hung off the port for the secondary trigger by the loose notochord in her right wrist. Nasty craftsmanship on her neural jack, by the way, probably a custom job she did with a dendrite kit and a sharp stick. Completely unsanitary.

I saw the tendons strain. She blinked, bit her tongue, made a spot of blood in the water between us, nailed a bogey from ten thousand meters. Clean.

Lucky shot.

The muzzle flash shone through the mech's skin when she did it, a plume of gossamer light, like a halo, falling in blinding ropes through her charred hair.

Dumb little clocky gut devil. Stop distracting me, goddammit.

The sortie was over two minutes after that. Septarchy won, no casualties, Periphery force 100% KIA. She got eight kills. I got one.

Whatever.

She stepped on my chest when we were getting pulled out of the mech for decon. Then she stole my thunder when we docked and Command gave us honors—oh yeah it was no biggie, thank you so, so, much, really it means the world to me—as if she did everything herself. As if I wasn't fucking driving.

No, she's not a professional. Far from it. She would've pissed in the medium if I wasn't there, the fuckin' slob. Now the entire cockpit smells like her.

Earthy, like Periphery dirt, silicate-rich. A hint of cheap liquor. Sweat and plastic and denim and testosterone, powerful but suppressed, made graceful through discipline and chemicals.

She borrowed some of the mech's estrogen when I wasn't looking, I think. My estrogen. Little goddamn leech. Thief. A disgrace to the Corps.

I want any superior officer that sees this report to listen to me, and listen real fuckin' close. She's a menace. The next time she sorties with our compliment, get me five minutes alone with her while we go through pre-flight checks. She owes me.

Whatever she stole, I want it back.

[acceleracers-baby]

Acceleracers HC’s! Road Trip Roles! Teku Edition!

Teku

(Nolo Pasaro, Vert Wheeler, Shirako Takamoto, Kurt Wylde, Karma Eiss)

+Bonus Round

(Brian Kadeem & Banjee Castillo)

Teku

Nolo Pasaro - Nolo is in charge of picking the movies- assuming whatever big ass van they renovated comes with one of those little movie player things. Who am I kidding- these guys probably would have just installed one if it didn’t come stock. Unfortunately, Nolo’s movie choices are always pretty predictable. It’s either going to be one of the now TEN Fast and Furious movies, Pacific Rim, Transformers, or The Losers. That being said, Nolo DOES take bribes. Vert once washed his car for a week just so they could watch Surfs Up.

Vert Wheeler - Speaking of Vert, he’s the snack guy! At first, he gathered up everyone’s requests a few days before they got on the road, but now he practically has everyone’s snack preferences memorized. Let it be known that he takes this job very seriously. He genuinely goes out of his way to ensure everyone’s got at least one or two things to munch on. That’s also why he starts shopping a few days out from the actual trip, so that way if he has to run by different stores, or cut up fruit and divide them up into little ziplock bags he’s got enough time to do it. I also like to imagine at some point Jack comes home early from one of his missions and sees his son just surrounded by a shit ton of food like “are we doomsday prepers now??? What the hell is going on???”

Shirako Takamoto - I feel like I don’t even have to say it, but I’m going to anyway. Shirako is the DJ. Like Vert, he is very serious about this role. He starts curating a playlist as soon as he knows a road trip is going to happen. It doesn’t matter if he’s learning about it months in advance, he starts on it immediately. Despite always having headphones on and seemingly vibing in his own little world most of the time, Shirako is an astounding listener. He never fails to add the perfect mix of everyone’s favorite songs to the playlist. Not only that, but he has it sectioned out by hour. He wants to make sure whatever music they have playing, whether it be background noise for group conversations, or loud sing along sessions, it’s perfect!

Kurt Wylde - Spoilers for Karma, but they’re the two drivers. They work in shifts, switching off every few hours to (1) make sure they’re making the best time and (2) prevent any unnecessary road fatigue. Kurt is also practically the group big brother, so before any trip he’s sending everyone checklists to make sure they don’t forget anything. It’s ridiculous how in-depth they are. Obviously, he trusts them to fulfill their individual road trip roles but he’s on their asses for literally anything else. They’ll be ready to go at like 4am- everyone’s tired asf and he’s going around like “wallets? phones? chargers? toothbrushes???” making sure they didn’t forget any last minute items.

Karma Eiss - Like you read for Kurt, she is one of the designated drivers. On top of that though she is also the group navigator. She has like Waze levels of finding the best routes. With her at the helm, they’re able to make a 12 hour drive in a fraction of the time. Karma also has his uncanny ability to pick the best rest stops. Want to use the restroom but also take a quick breather in a nice scenic area? Good thing Karma was able to find the most beautiful truck stop you’ve ever seen with the cleanest bathroom ever. It’s honestly a little scary.

Bonus Round

Brian Kadeem - With Kadeem, it’s all about the journey, not the destination. When this guy road trips, he ROAD TRIPS. What I mean by that is you will be stopping at just about every cite to stop and smell the roses. It doesn’t matter if it’s some tacky tourist trap or one of the seven wonders of the world, he wants to see it, learn about it, and appreciate it. And if anyone one deserves to be able to relax a little, it’s Kadeem. Let this man enjoy his goofy little side quests. Especially, cause he ends up finding the greatest hole in the wall places to stop at too.

Banjee Castillo - Banjee quite literally never runs out of energy, so you HAVE to give this guy something to do or he will be miserable the entire ride. Thankfully, he is absurdly versatile. Obviously, his preferred role is to be in the drivers seat, but when he is not doing that he is the king of road trip games. 21 questions, I spy, and trivia are child’s play compared to the shit that Banjee brings to the table. Don’t get him wrong, he loves the classics, but they get old pretty fast on long road trips so he’s had to get creative in the past. It’s not uncommon for there to be three games going on at once half way through the drive. Usually two “spot em” games like Punch Buggies & Cows on my Side, and one actual game like Mafia or Song Quizzes.

——— Thanks for Reading ———

[nobedofroses]

December 26th

pairing: Jack Daniels x reader

warnings: fluff

words: 853

a/n: next one! this takes place somewhere in the south-ish, so it is a more temperate winter where flowers could live outside lol. meet cute with Jack basically, prompted by myself actually lmao

more Jack, Full List

🌨️🌨️🌨️

Every time you came home for the holidays, you ended up working at the family bakery. It didn’t matter that you weren’t even in college anymore and had a full time job of your own, you somehow always got roped in. It probably didn’t help that you loved every minute of it. 

But this time, you weren’t helping bake or even up front helping people pick out and pay for their items, you were doing a delivery. Normally, this was your younger cousin’s job, but she was off on a ski day with her friends at the local hill. You were delivering cupcakes for a holiday/engagement party, and you actually knew the happy couple so you figured you could at least say hi. 

When you arrived, you parked behind a landscaping company truck, and figured that some work around the property was being done for the party. Planting flowers, maybe. Or getting rid of anything that had died in the colder weather. You looked forward to seeing what had been done later that night when you actually attended the party. Maybe they’d even set up some of the event outside and that’s why they were doing it. 

To take the cupcakes in, it was going to take you at least four trips since there were over 200 cupcakes (probably because just about everyone in town was attending). Maybe you’d be able to rope in one of the family members to give you a hand to make it go faster. 

But just when you were about to go in through the kitchen door, disaster nearly struck. The door swung open and missed the first giant tray of cupcakes by just a couple inches. 

You gasped and froze in place, trying not to jerk and cause any damage. After looking down to make sure the box was still intact, you looked up at who was standing there in front of you, also looking shocked. And then you nearly dropped the cupcakes anyway. 

It was a man. A strong, well-muscled, wearing only a white t-shirt and work jeans, slightly sweaty, handsome man whom you had never seen before in your life. Because if you had, you sure as hell would’ve remembered. 

“Oh my goodness, darlin’, I’m so sorry, are you alright? I wasn’t thinkin’, I shouldn’t have opened that door so quick. Is your… big box okay?” he rushed out, the extra twang in his voice somehow making you even more flustered. 

“I’m— I’m fine. They’re fine, they’re cupcakes,” you told him awkwardly, looking down at the box. 

“Cupcakes! You must be from the bakery. Here, I’ll, um, I’ll open the door for you, sugar, and then I can even take you to the table where they belong. I’m just doin’ the landscapin’, but I know John, the groom, and he was just tellin’ me all about the room’s setup for tonight,” he told you, ushering you into the kitchen and through it before you even knew what was happening. 

You got the cupcakes to the table and he asked if there were any more that he could help you with and didn’t take no for an answer when you tried to say you didn’t need help. 

“I almost ruined these cupcakes, so you can bet that I’m going to make sure the rest get in place all in one piece just in case there are any other lumberin’ fools walkin’ ‘round this place, honey,” he said and you honestly couldn’t believe he talked like that, but it also made you feel all warm and gooey inside. 

You acquiesced, of course, and he ended up doing all of the carrying. You tried to take boxes yourself, but he said it was much more important that you were on door and lookout duty. And you did do your fair share of it, but it wasn’t the cupcakes that you were looking at. 

Ten minutes later, all of the cupcakes were safe on the table. The two of you stood there for a second before another look of astonishment crossed his face, “Forgive me, darlin’, where have my manners been? My name’s Jack, if I may ask yours?” 

You told him and put your hand in his when he reached out, feeling warmth rush to your face when you felt how big and strong and warm his hand was. 

“Will I see you at the party tonight?” Jack asked, your hand still in his, his thumb brushing over the back of yours. 

“Um, yeah. Yeah, I’ll be there,” you told him, suddenly so much more excited to go than you already had been. 

“Then I’ll look for you, sugar. If there’s dancin’ save me one, alright?” he asked, waiting for your quick nod before he headed out a back door, ostensibly to get back to work. 

You waited until the door closed before sitting heavily on the chair by the table and making a sort of helpless sound. Suddenly you needed a cold shower. Or a nicer dress. Or maybe to ask your family about whether they needed your help more often. Like maybe all year round.

🌨️🌨️🌨️

[slygirlboy]

The Mourning

“Christ Jed, what the hell is that?”

I stood looking at the wall of Jed’s barn, at his newest attraction. Something straight out of one of those sci-fi or horror mags was nailed to the old wood.

“Don’t rightly know,” Jed replied.

I had to admit, the hoax this year was impressive. Last year it was a giant’s bones he had “dug up” on his property. Bones we weren’t allowed to touch, lest we discover the plaster of paris it was made with. He probably had a lot of that stuff left over from the sasquatch footprint he did the year before that. And before that was the mermaid he fished up in the lake on his property. He was able to charge people to fish in his lake that year, and all it took was some creative taxidermy with a fish and a shaved cat.

But the thing this year...it looked almost beyond his capabilities. All the years of making hoaxes had done their work, and developed his craft excellently. The thing looked as if it had leapt out of a Hollywood movie. Jed could probably sell his property and work in some effects shop somewhere if he really wanted to with this kinda work.

“Dollar if you wanna hear the story.” Jed’s rocking chair creaked forward as he leaned in and slid a large glass jar forward. Coins littered the bottom, and a layer of crunched up bills laid on top of them.

I sighed and reached for my pocket. Hell, he deserved it this time. It was an impressive dummy. I took out a rubber-banded roll of cash and pulled a dollar out, dropping it in Jed’s jar with one hand while returning the roll to my pocket with the other.

“Thank ye kindly,” Jed said, a smile on his face.

“Only a dollar? You charged people ten to fish at the lake those years back. And it was five to look at them bones last year.”

“Well,” he looked around side to side, “Between you and me, Jack, aint no secret that those were…less than true.”

“Aint no secret at all,” I smiled.

“Shut it.” he said sharply. “Point is, I put in less work this year round. Didn’t have to make no big monster dummy. All I had to do was kill the fucker.” He smiled and leaned back in his chair, creaking as it went.

I scoffed. “You tryin’ to tell me Mr. Halloween-City up there is real? Like that mermaid and pixie you had before?”

“No damn it, I’m tellin’ ya it’s real this year.” Annoyance flashed across his face, his brow furrowing. I don’t know what he expected after years of hoaxes, but belief shouldn’t have been it. “Listen, ya paid yer dollar, you wanna hear the damn story or not?”

“Sure, Jed, sure.” I said. Why not; I came here to be entertained after all. Jed’s yearly pranks were well known in town, and everyone always stopped by if only to see what he cooked up. He actually had the news show up the year he had the jarred pixies. The town actually had tourists that summer. To this day, some businesses in town still sell merchandise with pixies on ‘em; cookies shaped like the things, t-shirts, keychains. Say what you will about Jed and his hoaxes, it’s worked out for the town before.

“Alright,” He relaxed a bit. The chair creaked. “Was last Thursday. Was driving my truck back from Macky’s late at night. Takin’ Howard road, ya know, the one that goes near them trails? With that canopy of trees that blocks the sky?”

“I know the road Jed, I been here a long time.” The part of the road he was describing was well known to me. There was a nice trail entrance nearby where people could walk and enjoy the woods. Right off that trail was an open area the Boy Scouts camped at yearly around Earth Day. The river was also a popular spot for kids to sift for shark teeth. Not just the kids, it seemed.

I squinted at the thing on the wall. Looked like Jed had gone there recently, too. The thing had a human-like face, though gray and misshapen. What caught my eye was the mouth. It hung open, stretching longer than a human’s jaw should. The corners of the mouth were ripped open, long slashes going to the middle of the cheeks which allowed the jaw to drop unnaturally low. And inside the mouth lay those teeth, the same as the shark teeth that could be found in the river. Jed must have made a trip.

“I was driving on the road,” he continued, “When I heard a THUMP-” He slapped an open hand on the table hard for effect. “Coming from above me. Somethin’ had landed on my truck’s roof. With all the damn trees on that road, I had assumed that a branch had hit me or somethin’. Wasn’t the first time. I kept driving home. I don’t know if that was a mistake or not.”

“I thought I’d check the damage once I was home. It was late and I was tired, and the last thing I wanted to do was stop. Plus, there wasn’t exactly a lotta light out. Would be pretty hard to check the roof of my car out there. I’d do it in the comfort of my own garage. It was only once I pulled in that I realized something was wrong.” “I drove up my driveway, used my clicker to open the garage door, and pulled in. I turned to get something out of the backseat. Something was off. I couldn’t place it, but something just didn’t feel right. Was I forgetting something? Leftovers from Macky’s were in the passenger seat. Still had my wallet in the cupholder. Now just what the hell was wro-.” Jed stopped mid story and leaned in closer.

“The roof of my car was pierced. Two land holes in it, one slightly behind the driver seat, back and to the left, and one slightly back and to the right of the passenger’s seat. The thing that made the holes was still there, and it wasn’t no branch. Long claws.” He nodded up at the thing on the wall.

It had remarkably long arms, with legs only half the size. At the end of each arm was a three digit hand with long nails (or, more accurately, claws) stretching out. Jed pinched his thumb, index, and middle finger together and held it up to me.

“It had its fingers together like this and pierced my car roof with ‘em,” he said. “Musta dropped down from the trees and hooked itself onto my car. Was riding with me for miles. Lord knows what it wanted to do to me.”

“I hadn’t moved for a while. I was terrified. The car roof began to creak under the thing’s impatience. I had one shot; the door to my house was right next to me, ‘bout ten feet from the car. One lucky swipe from the thing on my car roof was all it needed to get me. I’d need a distraction. Then I remembered my clicker, my garage door opener.”

“I held it in one hand while I wrapped my other against the door handle. I pressed the button. The whole car shook as the thing turned to the now closing door. In that second, I pushed the car door open as fast as I could and ran to the house door. I could feel the thing turn back to me, feel its eyes staring daggers into my back. I heard it shuffle, pry its talons loose from my car. I could hear the metal creaking under it as it prepared to pounce. SLAM!” Jed whacked the table again.

“I threw my door shut and a second later it slammed against it. Took all my strength to keep it shut. I locked it and stayed leaning on it for a while. The slams against the door got weaker. Tired itself out I think. Was able to grab a chair and stick it under the knob.”

“So you locked the thing in your garage,” I said. “Great. Then how’d you get around to killin’ it? I don’t see any bullet holes in it, no wounds or no-” I stopped mid sentence, realizing something. Jed grinned.

“Figured it out?” “You never turned your car off.” “Nope.” “And that worked?”

“Seems to have. Monster or not, it’s a living creature, same as us. Same kinda things should kill it. Just had to let the exhaust choke ‘em out. I grabbed my shotgun just in case and left my house through the front door. Didn’t get a lick of sleep that night. Just stood outside, watching the closed garage door, aiming my gun at it. Just in case…” Jed trailed off.

“That it?” I said.

“Just about. Cracked the big garage door open in the morning, waited a few for that toxic shit to clear. Truck was outta gas, buncha stuff got all messed up from havin’ it on all night. Nothin’ I couldn’t fix up though.” He looked up at the creature hanging on the wall. “Found it on the ground, staring up at the ceiling, limbs splayed out. Poked that thing with my gun. Checked for a pulse. Was cold as ice. Its limbs had started to stiff, and the blood in its body started to pool in the back. Signs of death I seen before.”

“And then you just nailed it to your barn wall for people to gawk at?” I asked. “No calling the police, nothing?”

“I sure as shit did.” replied Jed. “Figured I’d show it off. Figured I’d make a little money off it. Let the word spread. It’ll be like that pixie stuff from years back, you’ll see. Only this time, it’s real. When the news shows up, they’ll bring their scientists and study it. Tourists will show. Should be a good little bit of business for our small town, all thanks to ol’ Jed.” He smiled.

I shook my head and stood up. “Well, it’s a fun story, I’ll give you that, but I don’t know if your dummy here is gonna fool any scientists.” Jed scoffed. “And I’m not sure how many tourists something so monstrous lookin’ would bring in.”

“Ahh hell with you.” Jed swatted a hand at the air. “It’s popular enough already. Past two nights I had teenagers try to steal it. Or just get a closer look or somethin’, I don’t know. Them messin’ with the barn door wakes me up sometimes, the rattlin’ of the chains I use to lock it up. They stop when they hear me open the window though to yell at ‘em.”

I chuckled at him. “Well Jed, you have fun with your monster. I’m heading to Macky’s for food. Might suggest they add a Monster Burger to the menu, for all the tourists we’ll get from that ugly thing.”

_____

“You here again tonight?” I asked Jim, the bartender at Macky’s.

“Yeah,” said Jim. “Don’t you know, I have the EFD shift.”

“What’s that?”

“The Every Fucking Day shift.”

I chuckled. “Just get me a turkey club and whatever wheat you have on tap.”

“Sure thing, Jack. I’ll put the food in now.”

I glanced around the bar. Full as always, despite its dinginess. The indoor smoking areas and the late operating hours were probably two large reasons it remained so popular among the working men. Jim came back with my beer, placing it on a tiny coaster napkin.

“So,” he began, resting a hand on the bar counter. “You go by Jed’s yet? See this year’s creature?”

“Yeah, Jim, I did. Real freaky shit this year. How long you think it took him to make it?”

“No idea. Impressive craftsmanship, I’ll give him that, though.” Jim looked at me, a grin forming on his face. “You think it’s gonna go big? Like with the pixie shit? Could never sell my last five or so t-shirts from that boom.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know, man…The mermaid, the pixie, hell, even the sasquatch. Those were all…safer? More marketable?” I struggled to find the word. “They aint as freaky as that thing on the wall. That was nasty looking. Too nasty looking. I don’t know if it’ll have the same appeal as a Mothman or something. Might need to wait a while longer for something to bring in that tourist boom.”

It was freaky. Too freaky. I didn’t like to admit it, but after seeing that thing and hearing Jed’s story…I knew it was fake. I knew it was all bullshit, just a small town prank meant for fun like the countless before it. But the details in that creature, the smaller details in the story…

“I told him to bury it.” A voice a few seats down interrupted. I looked over. Sitting a few seats to my left was Father Cunningham, the local pastor.

“Pardon, Father?” I replied.

“I told Jed to bury that thing. Or burn it. Or hell, just leave it out for its kin to collect. Might not be one of God’s creatures, but it was a living creature and deserves some respect in death, at least.”

“Father Cunningham, you believed that yarn Jed was spinning?” Jim had interrupted. He slid the plate with my food on it in front of me. “I mean, excuse my language,” he continued, “But that was all just bullshit, wasn’t it? Like all the other stuff he had before. I mean, come on. Monsters in our woods?”

The Father shook his head. “I know what I saw. I was one of the first to see the dead thing. It wasn’t made by him; it was a living creature. I know it.” Jim shook his head, and turned, moving on to conversations with other customers. Father Cunningham switched to me. “I told him to bury it,” he said, “No good comes from keeping that around and treating it like some attraction. He thinks there's just one? Most likely to be more; something had to birth it. Imagine how upset you’d be if someone killed your kid, Jack. And then imagine how you’d feel if the killer paraded the corpse around for entertainment. It’s just wrong.”

I was taken aback by this outburst from the Father. “You really do believe Jed’s story.” I said, amazed. It was all too crazy.

“I saw Jed’s creature before he hung it up. When I passed his house during my morning walk on Friday, I saw his garage was open so I went to let him know. As I got closer, I saw him inside with his shotgun. And I saw the thing. Jack, I went back today and saw it and I’m telling you it’s decomposing. The stomach’s become more bloated, the eyes have become glazed over, and the hint of cherry-red in its face has gone a full gray. Notes of the sewer-sweet smell of decay have begun to rise. Jed’s story was true; that thing was alive!”

I didn’t know what to say. The pastor had gone completely mad. Or Jed had put him up to it. Try to get more people convinced? It was far to go for a hoax, even for Jed. I muttered something about getting back to my food and turned to eat. I found myself, however, taking a different route home that night, one that avoided Howard’s Road. It would still take me past Jed’s place.

___

Something was wrong. I saw from the road that Jed’s barn door was wide open. As I got close, I noticed it was smashed in. Large, splintered chunks of wood were splayed out from the center of the left door and the right was missing the upper hinge. The lights were on in Jed’s house, and his front door was wide open. I continued on into the barn, standing inside of it for the second time that night. And I stared at the empty wall.

Jed had disappeared. Like he turned into smoke. Police weren’t able to find anything that night; only other thing missing was Jed’s shotgun. Nothing else was out of the ordinary. Leading theory that night was that a group of burglars had broken into the barn and taken Jed’s creature. They had also kidnapped Jed, perhaps using his own gun. No blood was found at the scene, so he had to have been taken somewhere.

He was found a couple days later. It was Boy Scouts out by the camping area near Howard’s Road who had found him. In a clearing was a disturbed patch of dirt in the middle of the grass, about 3 feet by 6 feet. Jed’s shotgun was shoved vertically into the disturbed dirt, and at the fulcrum lay a pile of gore. Unidentifiable meat that had been cooking in the sun for the past two days, putrefying. Impaled on the top of the shotgun was Jed’s head, tilting at an angle. The jaw was hang-swung open, his bloating, slug-like tongue lolled out. The eyes were glazed over, and the flesh on him was beginning to naturally slough off. No scavengers had touched his flesh, only natural decomposition.

The whole town had heard of it. Hell, half of us went to see it. Police closed off the area. Fenced it off. Hasn’t been officially open in months. But there are those of us in town that still go. They leave that gate unlocked; it’s for keeping out-of-towners out, mostly. We keep it open and we take our weekly pilgrimage to pay our respects. They never cleaned Jed up, they knew better than to do that.

The area wasn’t cleaned up for the same reason we went to see it every week; because we knew that the things in the woods were watching us. We didn’t pay respects to Jed, we paid our respects to whatever was buried in the grave Jed now acted as a headstone for. And we prayed it would be enough.

[i-didnt-do-1t]

As it is my birthday may I please request some writing of Elmer having a happy birthday? 🥺👉👈

Happy belated birthday!! I hope you had the best day and the best year to come!! 🎉❤️

“Elmer you gotta close your eyes.”

“Do I?”

“Unless you wanna ruin the surprise.”

“Maybe I do. Maybe I hate surprises, like Finch does.”

JoJo sighed, deep and long suffering. “Okay. I ain’t sure that’s true though, So. Eyes closed.”

“Fine.” JoJo wasn’t sure he’d ever seen someone blink with as much force as Elmer did in that moment but he respected the way his face scrunched up as he closed his eyes and kept them that way. “But I ain’t gonna be happy about it.”

JoJo grinned now that Elmer couldn’t see him. “Trust me, you will be.”

He planted two hands on each shoulder and began to steer him toward the doorway of the bunkroom he’d been kicked out off earlier that morning under the guise of JoJo demanding that they go out for some lemonade.

Ten minutes ago, they’d run into Albert at the diner, and that meant that the decorating was done.

Meant that it was time to redirect Elmer back to the lodging house.

“JoJo?”

“Mhm?”

“It smells like cake.”

JoJo’s gaze landed on the cake that was definitely not sitting in the middle of the bunk room.

“No it doesn’t.”

“Maybe I’s just making things up.”

“Well.” JoJo said, and paused. “That brain a’ yours.”

“Exactly. It wishes it had cake.” He paused, and stood there silently for a moment, face scrunched up, eyes squinted shut. JoJo had to admit, maybe a little dumb looking.

“Hey Jo? Can I open my eyes now?”

JoJo leant up on his top toes to see over his shoulder and take in the crowd of newsies lined along the room in a semi circle, Albert in the far corner who waved at them. Each one grinning, and jostling each other to be quiet.

“Yeah.” JoJo said, “count to three and you can open your eyes.”

“You sure he can count that high?”

And Elmer didn’t count, his eyes snapped open, fully prepared to launch himself at whoever said that (and probably lose the ensuing fight) - but he stopped short as he took in the room.

It wasn’t anything particularly fancy, but they did their best with what they had. The lodging room was decked out with hand made bunting, all triangles of articles of old newspapers they never sold back and on a plate, on a stool, in the middle of the room sat a small, chocolate, cake, the top lathered in icing and the whole thing tilted vaguely to the left.

“You fellas?-“

It was like they practised it with how in sync it was, but the ‘happy birthday’ yelled back at him was loud and followed immediately by them all whooping and yelling, a couple of them coming up to Elmer and slapping him or shouldering him or ruffling his hair-

“Sarah made the cake.” Ultimately it was Jack’s voice that broke through the instant round of talking and cheering. “And we all kinda helped with the newspapers but that was mostly Buttons and Splasher.”

Elmer’s smile hurt his cheeks, and if his eyes were wet, they weren’t (JoJo wouldn’t mention it.) “Yous’ did all this for me?”

“Course’ we did!” It was Jack’s turn to reach and ruffle his hair. “Couldn’t let you turn 13 without a party.”

This time Elmer was successful as he launched himself forward, both arms wrapped solidly around Jack’s torso as he laughed and hugged him back just as tightly, swaying slightly.

“Happy birthday kid. You deserve it.”

Elmer’s next words were spoken into Jack’s shoulder but JoJo could just about make them out. “You guys are the best, y’know that.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Shut up.”

Jack rolled his eyes something fond and soft in them and then met gazes with JoJo, and his mouth curled up again as he clapped his hand on Elmer’s shoulder pulling him back a little.

“You wanna go ask Kenny to cut the cake? I ain’t sure where he got the knife but I just ain’t thinking ‘bout it too hard. And then a coupla the boys has got presents for after.”

Elmer’s eyes were circles. “For me?”

“You see it bein’ anyone else’s birthday.”

Elmer grinned at Jack before he turned round to grin at JoJo and grabbed his shoulder shaking him a little as he led him of toward Kenny, being pulled into a multitude of hugs and headlocks along the way.

[ejistryingtowrite]

meet Maeve

an excerpt from chapter one of my current wip, introducing one of the main characters

“I’m looking for someone. A boy, a man really. Half a foot taller than me, brown hair, probably stubble, real charmer. He might work in the area or live somewhere here, I don’t know.” She took a sip of the cider and swallowed. It was too vinegary and left a sour aftertaste, but what else could she have expected from this sort of establishment. “Work at the steelworks you mean?,” the barmaid enquired. “There could be about a thousand lads fitting that description.” “He’s eighteen, pretty thin, frizzy hair, green eyes, come on, nobody comes to mind?” The girl behind the bar shook her head. “Sorry, love. Maybe if he’d asked about you... But no, no such lad’s been round here looking for you. What’s he, a boyfriend of yours?” Maeve resisted rolling her eyes. “Brother. He’s the only family I have left.” The barmaid nodded sympathetically. “I see. I’ll keep my eyes peeled, in case he shows up.” “Thanks, I’ll be back or...” She hesitated. “You can find me at the Riordan, if he does.” The girl patted Maeve’s hand, a gesture of compassion or friendliness, or maybe something else, it was impossible to tell. “What’s your name? Have to know if I need to forward a message.” Before she could give her any answer, a booming voice behind her provided it instead. “MAEVE O’SHEA, YOU FUCKING CUNT!” She whipped around, spilling her cider and letting the barmaid’s hand fall from her own. There was a towering figure with a shaggy beard standing near the door, a figure she immediately recognised as the man she’d shaved ten pounds off last month, claiming to have a way to invest it in the steel business with a fourfold profit. “Hiya, Jack, right?,” she said, shaping her mouth into an innocent smile. “Was gonna get back to you soon.” At that, Jack charged towards her, just as she threw the half-full bottle at him and ducked to the edge of the bar, from where the barmaid pulled her to the back of the pub. It took Maeve a second to realise what was happening, as the girl was pushing her across a dank basement and out of a back door, into a dark alley.

[uwu-twistedthorn-uwu]

Alright, it's time for the anniversary showcase! I don't plan on pulling enough to get one of the special keys, but since it turns out I won't actually need the single keys I've been hoarding to hit pity in Azul's birthday showcase, I figured I might as well have some fun chucking them in this one.

There won't be any new cards unless I get an SSR (since I got the last SR I needed with the anniversary bundle), I don't have enough single keys for pity, and I don't even have a specific card I'm hoping for, so this should be fairly low key compared to my previous liveblogs.

First summon is an R card, as is inevitable. I'm going to skip over most of these because otherwise it'll get super tedious. But for once I'm actually grateful for all the R perfume, because once the second round of birthdays start I'll need a whole bunch to get both the new backgrounds and the ones I missed.

And 5 R cards later I get the first SR of the day.

Luckily the wait for the second one is no where near as tedious, with only one PE Silver in between.

Another R card later, Lab Lilia shows up again?

Another 5 R cards, and another Diasomnia boy in a lab coat .

Ceremonial Idia shows up and brings back "fond" memories of pulling for his Suitor Suit. Also I'm no longer mentioning how many R cards are between, because any time it's more than one I have to stop and do math. I'll tally them up at the end or something.

My key supply is down to single digits and Azul shows up immediately after, no R cards in between. *starts smacking him and Idia against each other while going "now kiss"*

And it's Cay Cay! Side note, I've been getting a ridiculous amount of Archetype Orthos, including two in a row just before Cater showed up.

Three R cards later, my single key stash is depleted. But since we're so close to pity, fuck it let's do a couple ten pulls. I'm not going to go all the way to pity today, because the remaining 4 needed can be done by single keys that I'll earn via the event.

And it's Cay Cay! Again!

Ruggie! (I'm sorry it turns out I don't really have anything to say when it's just miscellaneous summons with no goal in sight, but it's too late to stop now)

Hooray we got an SSR!

And boo, it's Leona (sorry if you're a Leona stan, but fuck Leona)

One more ten pull and then we're actually stopping for real this time.

What the fuck Malleus! I literally just got you this morning with the key from the bronze bundle, and now you decide to show up?

AAAAAAAA

Holy fucking shit, my boy came home like two seconds after his housewarden. I now have every single Savanaclaw dorm card (I got Jack back when I was pulling for Halloween Silver).

And that's it for now. When I do hit pity (or on the crazy chance that another SSR shows up before then, I'll probably reblog this post to add whatever I get.

Oh shit I said I was going to add up all the R cards at the end, didn't I? There were 36, bringing my R perfume stash up to 47.

[time-like-tears-in-rain]

WIP Round-Up....

Mostly Doctor/Rose, some nonsense too..

1. Fourteen/Rose Reunion fic: this goes along with some AU/headcanon stuff I have regarding Tentoo (.....humans cannot survive a metacrisis???), but mostly it's just using the fact that Fourteen is SO emotionally open and affectionate compared to Ten. Also I Miss My Fucking Closet of a Room in London So Much, most of this story takes place in locations I've been. They probably don't look the same/may not even be there anymore.

2. Nine/Rose sleep-telepathy: its explicit but also surreal and kinda weird, probably too weird to really be sexy? Nine has no memory of how he got here, Rose under him, unsure if they're in the Tardis or a hotel or a house or someplace else, not really caring...until it's clear that this isn't exactly real, but someone's dreams, thoughts, but neither are quite sure whose.

3. "Fix-It" for Doomsday: Rose stays in the prime universe, but I hesitate to call this a fix-it. She's just given up a chance to live with her family, lost her mother and her best friend, nearly died because she meant it when she said 'forever.' Now the Doctor copes (badly) with the fact that (as he sees it) he's ruined Rose's life, and worse, risked it. Rose comes to terms with the fact that she just gave up nearly everything to continue living with a man whose reaction to that sacrifice was to shout at her--that maybe she isn't as strong as she likes to think, maybe she's sixteen and dropping out of school for a boy again.

4. Kind of an addition to the above fic, Jack is the one that pulls Rose back from the void: Having lived through the next three years AND Time Lord Victorious and realizing that this was the moment when it all went to hell. Corners the Doctor and tells him that he loves him, he's a good man, at least he likes to think so but do not ever ask him or Martha to go through everything he did to them again. [This does NOT take Martha out of the narrative, I love her, Jack loves her, she'll be around still]. Also

"You had no right to do this." "Eighty-seven, Doc." "What?" "That's how many times I died trying to get your girl back, but honestly? I prefer to think that's how many times I've died for Rose, and I'd gladly do it again. And one more thing? She deserves better too. If you fuck this up, I'm collecting her, and you're never seeing either of us again. This is your last chance."

5. A conversation between Jackie and Ten where she asks him to look out for Rose, and Ten doesn't tell her the truth, but talks around it, to Jackie's joy and horror, she realizes he's in love with her daughter. Ten confesses that Nine made the man he is today for Rose.

6. In some vague AU where they had five (5) minutes to reconnect, Donna is having breakfast with the Doctor in the Tardis and teasing him about how he and Rose vanished the night before for, oh, fifteen hours, when she shows up in pajama pants and one of his vests. She adores this new girl and loves how happy the Doctor looks, but Rose lets it slip that she thinks she missed her 20th birthday and Donna promptly loses it that her 900 year old best friend who looks 33 decided his soulmate is 19. Mostly funny, but Donna has a point.

7. Not technically started yet, but by request, Rose meeting the Master in series three, and facing his petty remarks--sure he had mildly less atrocious things to say about her in front of Martha in canon, but that was to hurt Martha and the Doctor, surely if she was present, he would read the room and tear into her too.

[melissahausen]

Predictions for forbidden door.

As always this is who I think will win not necessarily who I want to win.

Athena vs. Billie Starkz Women's Owen Hart Cup Tournament first round match: Athena.

United Empire Jeff Cobb, Kyle Fletcher, and TJP vs. Los Ingobernables de Japon Shingo Takagi, Bushi, and Hiromu Takahashi, Six-man tag team match: UE.

Stu Grayson with The Righteous Vincent and Dutch vs. El Phantasmo: ELP but I'm not 100% sure on this one.

Mogul Embassy, Swerve Strickland, Toa Liona, and Bishop Kaun (with Prince Nana vs. Roppongi Vice Rocky Romero and Trent Beretta and El Desperado

Six-man tag team match:

Probably mogul embassy but I want RV to win cause Trent 😍.

Kenny Omega vs. Will Ospreay Singles match for the IWGP United States Heavyweight Championship:

Listen ill never go against my gorgeous Canadian boy but cause its for the title I honestly think it's gonna be Will but I'm still gonna say Kenny cause they in Canada but I'll not be surprised if osprey wins.

Bryan Danielson vs. Kazuchika Okada Singles match.

The dream match for a lot of people (not me soz) and I genuinely don't know which way they're gonna go, I'll say Bryan but its not a confident guess lol.

Sanada vs. "Jungle Boy" Jack Perry (with Hook), singles match for the IWGP World Heavyweight Championship.

Sanada cause they're clearly not gonna give Jack a title yet lol.

MJF vs. Hiroshi Tanahashi, Singles match for the AEW World Championship:

If it wasn't the title on the line I'd have said Tana but Max gonna win cause the title won't be given to a star that isn't AEW talent.

Le Suzuki Gods Chris Jericho, Sammy Guevara, and Minoru Suzuki vs. Sting, Darby Allin, and Tetsuya Naito Six-man tag team match:

STIIIIIIING,Darby and Naito.

Blackpool Combat Club ,Jon Moxley, Wheeler Yuta, and Claudio Castagnoli , Konosuke Takeshita, and Shota Umino vs. The Elite Hangman Adam Page, Matt Jackson, and Nick Jackson, Eddie Kingston, and Tomohiro Ishii Ten-man tag team match

Now this match god this match , depending on where on the card it is a few things could happen.

Is Kenny gonna get involved?, is Will gonna get involved?, is Bryan gonna get involved?, Is Kenny's true love gonna FINALLY show up?

Now we all know Eddie is gonna turn on the elite cause its Eddie but is that gonna be because the elite lose? Honestly I've no idea I just know shenanigans are DEFINITELY gonna ensue.

But I'm going BCC again cause I don't think the elite are winning against them until London baby:)

CM Punk vs. Satoshi Kojima Men's Owen Hart Cup Tournament first round match: ughh he's gonna win this whole fuxking thing isn't he?

Orange Cassidy vs. Zack Sabre Jr. vs. Katsuyori Shibata vs. Daniel Garcia Four-way match for the AEW International Championship:

OC or Daniel honestly I'd love to see Danny with a belt.

Toni Storm vs. Willow Nightingale, Singles match for the AEW Women's World Championship: Toni cause I assume the outcasts are gonna get involved and help her win. Also I'm so over the outcasts done with this whole gimmick it's just shite.

Adam Cole vs. Tom Lawlor Singles match: Cole cause they're pushing him to the moon right now.

[tiqalicious]

Interview with Jack McCallum - Officer A. Hayes presiding.

JM: "I don't understand why I'm still being held here."

AH: "We still have a lot of questions Jack, we're just trying to make things a little more clear."

JM: "I didn't do it."

AH: "We know that Jack, but if you'll just take some time to describe it again for us, it could really help us out."

JM: "I've already told the lot of ye, he was dead when I found him."

AH: "On your farm, you said?"

JM: "Aye. T'was my neighbour's boy, little Rory. She brought him over once when he was nuttin but a wean, and you should have seen the smile on his face. His mam said t'was the first smile he ever cracked and I think it gave me a soft spot for em, cause by the time he hit ten, I'd let him come over every single day, carrying his little jotter and scribblin away like a mad thing at everything he saw."

AH: "He came over every day?"

JM: "Oh aye. Shannon didn't have a lot of money to throw around, see? So I was always fixing him lunches and letting him hang around. He was a good wee lad, spent all day out and about, and never really got into trouble save for falling in the water. I saw him running to the house once like he was feart for his life, chased away by a pine marten, convinced the thing was goin ta kill em. Best craic I've ever seen, that. Laughed till I was in tears."

Officers notes: Jack went quiet for a few moments here, only staring at the table. He hasn't looked me in the eyes since we started speaking, but I find it hard to believe he's hiding anything from me. He really looks as if he lost one of his own.

AH: "I'm not really s'posed to do this now, but you look like you could use a fag. Have one of mine."

JM: "Appreciate it. I uh… I told him not to go over to that grove, you know."

AH: "The trees where you found him?"

JM: "Aye. I'll tell ye now, there's always been sumtin quare hanging around that spot over the bridge. The animals avoided it like the fuckin plague. The dogs would get their hackles up any time ye went too close, the sheep would run away from it like the devil himself was at their heels, and the horses, well they wouldn't even take a single step upon that bridge. Me nan told me once when I was wee that horses know sumtin we don't. She said their eyes are open to the entire world afore them, and the rest of us are all just sleepwalking through it. I've learned to never doubt the judgement of me horses, but… I should have just took a hammer to that fuckin bridge. T'is my fault he's gone."

AH: "We'll find whoever did this."

JM: "No ye fuckin won't."

AH: "I promise ye now Ja-"

Officers notes: Jack became enraged at this moment, and it took a while to calm him down, but I was able to de-escalate without any need for restraint.

JM: "Ye still don't fuckin get it, do ye?. It don't want to be bloody found! There's something foul in there that should have been left alone, and I was too fuckin stupid to make sure it stayed that way! It took his fuckin eyes, Aidan! It plucked them right from his skull and left him out there to die an he was probably too busy chasing after a fuckin butterfly, to even see it coming! I DID THIS! I COULD HAVE STOPPED IT AND NOW HE'S FUCKIN GONE!"

AH: "Jackie…"

JM: "Don't you give me another fuckin word. Ye can't make this better and ye won't find who did it, so just fuckin don't. You lot aren't equipped to deal with any of this sort of thing."

AH: "Ye don't have to worry about that now, Jack. We've already brought in some specialists."

JM: "What?"

AH: "Some big important crew brought all the way over from London. They're at yer place now, lookin over the grove. They're the ones who asked me to talk to ye again."

JM: "It don't fucking matter, because THEY WON'T BELIEVE ME!"

AH: "I wouldn't be so sure of that, Jack."

JM: "What are ye on about?"

AH: "Never mind. Shouldn't have said anything. I'll be round yer way tonight to check in on Shannon. I'll come see ye after, eh?"

JM: "I don't ne-"

AH: "I said I'll come see ye after, make sure yer doing okay, right?"

JM: "Ah…. right then."

AH: "Okay, well I think we've got everything we need here, so yer free to go. Just keep away from the grove while that lot do there work, eh?"

JM: "Fine."

Initial autopsy report performed by H. Duffy, Coroner: Deceased male, 12. Eyes and tongue removed despite no signs of struggle. No entry wounds on body, yet subject is missing all major organs. Three ribs completely missing with no medical history of removal. Baffling absence of blood on scene or signs of trauma, perhaps sign of as yet untraceable chemical agent? No clear answers. Body sent to London for further investigation.

"So…. Thoughts?"

"Sounds like a rushed job."

"Indeed. I would wager that someone was interrupted."

"Aye. Farmer probably went looking and got too close to the scene. That child was supposed to disappear."

"So why not simply take the farmer as well?"

"Too much attention. Probably an entry point."

"Quite likely one of hundreds, honestly"

"The specialists…"

"Hunters, my dear boy. If nothing else, at least this little misstep is an opportunity to confirm some suspicions. Someone high up the ladder is running a branch out of london."

"I'll make sure our lot know to avoid the area for a few weeks."

"I'm afraid that's not entirely possible, quite yet. You heard the recording. The officer suspects something. The farmer knows, as those infuriating salt of the earth types so often do, but the officer… we need to tamp this down. Take these press certifications and see to it that the both of them receive a little guidance. Nothing grizzly, just send someone to make them think a little… differently. No need to stoke the flames any further."

"Of course, Cinnidh."

[akane171]

Well, FUCK.

Got interested and started digging more about Cpt. Vernon Kraeger:

Cpt. Vernon Kraeger of George Company, 3rd Battalion, 501st PIR, was killed in action during the operations of the 101 Airborne Division in the vicinity of Eerde, the Netherlands on September 27, 1944.

Cpt. Kraeger is remembered by his men in the book ‘D-Day +60 Years: A Small Piece of History’;

“When you speak of the men of George Company, 501st PIR, there is a constant reference to the man who led them from the training grounds of Toccoa, Georgia, until his death midway through the Holland campaign. If a generational reference can be made, the loss of Vernon Kraeger was similar to the loss of President Roosevelt for the young men of George Company. They had never had another company commander, and most of them did not remember another President.

“When asked to remember their captain, they often speak of his death first, then tell stories that show their respect for his leadership, and for the man. According to Jack Urbank, Kraeger was from St. Louis, Missouri, and began his career in the Army, prior to WWII, as an enlisted man, where he served with a coast artillery unit in Panama. When the war started, Kraeger, like many other bright young men serving in the ranks, was offered the opportunity to go to Officer Candidate School. When Urbank first met his future company commander, in December 1942, Kraeger was a lieutenant serving as the executive of a ‘casual company’ where new recruits to the 501st were administratively brought into the regiment. Eventually, he was promoted to captain and given command of George Company.

“Kraeger was a small man. Virgil Danforth, in his description of the action on the advance to Pouppeville (Normandy, France) describes Kraeger as walking down the road shooting at Germans in the ditch ‘with a carabine that was almost as big as he was’.”

George Koskimaki, in his history of the 101st Airborne Division in the Netherlands, included several references to Kraeger by another George Company runner, Pvt. Jesse Garcia. He quoted Garcia regarding an action that took place in the Netherlands.

“We had a skirmish with Krauts in a woods. The captain was naturally at the front line (if not ahead of it and I was about 20 feet away). He received his first wound (in the Netherlands; as he had been wounded twice in Normandy), a bullet in the arm. The medic told him to go back to the rear medical unit; he refused. I remember he stayed at his position firing steadily with his carbine since we could see the Krauts not very far away.”

According to Jack Urbank: “We were in Eerde, Holland, when Captain Kraeger got killed. The company was set up with the rifle platoons in line and my mortars behind them. Kraeger was in the line with the riflemen and machine-gunners. A mortar round exploded near him and he got a small wound in his temple. One of the medics looked at him, and put a Band-Aid on his wound. Ten minutes later he crumpled over, dead. I helped carry him back to the aid station, where we undressed him, thinking he had been hit more than once. We could not find another mark on him. He must have died from internal bleeding from that small wound.”

Don Castona also remembers this moment: “I was right there when he (Kraeger) got it. It seemed like the bottom just dropped out. He just slumped over and said: ‘Well, goddam’ and died instantly.”

Cpt. Vernon Kraeger, born on April 2, 1911, in St. Louis, Missouri, left behind his (divorced) parents, William and Helen, and a brother named Everett. His brother Harry had preceded him in death in 1927. Cpt. Vernon Kraeger was killed in action on September 27, 1944, and died at the age of 33 years old.

Cpt. Vernon Kraeger is buried at the Jefferson Barracks National Cemetery of Lemay, St. Louis County Missouri (Section 79 Site 2200). He was probably posthumously awarded a Purple Heart.

Post from Facebook, here -> Three of the Last WWII Screaming Eagles

I've searched for Easy Company in Hell's Highway - so you don't have too.

Hell's Highway: A Chronicle of the 101st Airborne in the Holland Campaign, September-November 1944 by George Koskimaki

Just before the jump: “Colonel Sink, who was in plane#1, had been looking out of the door when something shook the plane and he saw a part of the wing whip loose and dangle in the breeze. He turned and said: ‘Well, there goes the wing.’ But nobody seemed to think much about it as they figured by now they were practically ‘in’ it”.

The Son bridge. Oh, look who is here: “A few minutes after the first groups headed on their missions, a Dutchman approached 1Lt. NORMAN DIKE, the assistant S-2 for the regiment and informed him that the two auxiliary bridges had been blown by the Germans several days earlier”.

Eindhoven. T/4 Donald G. Malarkey’s recollection of the advance by the 2nd Battalion is as follows: “We came into the city from the northeast with scattered resistance but rounded up a lot of prisoners on tips from the Dutch people. In fact, at one time, we had so many men going after holed-up Germans that we had to stop following their leads.”

Easy’s 1Lt. Robert Brewer being wounded. Hewas ordered by Capt. Clarence Hester (S-3 for the 2nd Battalion) to flank some Germans. He questioned with his poor French the school kids who asked their parents in Dutch and then translate it to French again about German positions (what a comedy, lol). He’s learnt Germans were sitting in some orchard. As he said, he had a little time to study the route, so he had map and bincons out as they were approaching.

“At the moment I was hit. A round entered my right jaw and exited my left neck. Both holes, just below the third molar from the back, spouted blood immediately and blood flowed from my mouth like a fountain. I knew I was going into shock. (…) I heard one of my men yell ‘Lieutenant Brewer’s dead! Get going to those trees ahead!’ and I remembered feeling good about that order. Someone was taking over.”

Sgt. Al Mampre (surgeon from 2nd Battalion) was the one who patched him along with Pvt. Holland (from E). “I was in the process of administering plasma to Brewer, which was very difficult because his veins had collapsed, when we were fired. Holland shouted that he was hit in the heel and scooted back to E Company in the ditch. Dirt was kicking up around and I heard the sharp crack and thought the plasma bottle was shattered. I looked up and found it intact in my hand, so I lay down beside Brewer. He was yellow in colour and not moving at all. In my best bedside manner, I said to Brewer ‘Are you dead? If so, I’m getting out  of here!’ He croaked back , barely audible and just understandable ‘No, but I don’t know why not.’ I said ‘Good, I’ll stay with you”.

Right after he was wounded too. Three Easy men came to help them but they were shot. In the end they were saved and taken to safety by some Dutchmen.

The 2nd battalion was sent to Helmond. Lipton: “When we got there it was seen that we were over-extended and outgunned, so after a forced march of several hours, we were immediately marched back toward Eindhoven.”

Generally speaking, there were a LOT of enemy tanks and they were fucked.

Don Malarkey: “We joined British tanks to attack toward Helmond where major German forces were reported. The German panzers and infantry had set up a semi-circle defence ,well concealed, on the west fringe of the city. The British tanks on the flanks and the 101st infantry were allowed to penetrate deep into the throat of the positions before the Germans opened up. We were well in front when all hell broke loose. We had several people hit – our platoon leader, Lt. “Buck” Compton, the worst. He took machine gun blast through the butt as we were told to pull back to Eindhoven. Compton, who had been a guard on the UCLA football team, was too big for a couple of people to move. He wanted to be left for the Germans and told us to get the hell out of there. However, we tore a door off a Dutch farmhouse, rolled him on it, and four of us dragged him up to the ditch along the road until we got him back to where he could get him on a British vehicle.”

Highway between Veghel and Uden

When the Germans cut the highway between Veghel and Uden, part of E Company was in Uden with Colonel Chase and Regimental HQ.  Captain Winters and 1/Sgt. CLIFFORD Lipton (I always forget this was his first name XD) were part of the advanced element. Sgt. Don Malarkey, a member of S/Sg. Bill Guarnere’s platoon, was caught in Veghel during the heavy shelling.

He said “The E Company members wondered about Winters and the rest of Company. The size and depth of the attack was so heavy we thought the rest of the company on the Uden side of the block would be wiped out as we assumed the enemy force had also sent a column to the  north. Captain Winters, in Uden, thought a similar fate had befallen us. He had positioned the rest of the company near a street intersection in shop buildings on the south side of the town waiting for the German tanks turn to the north. They had been able to view the assault on Veghel from a towering church steeple located near their position. Winters thought Veghel might be overrun so he discussed the possibility with the remaining elements of the company. Winters then decided they would make their stand, even if it was their last. Although the next 24 hours were tense, the Germans forces were routed and a last ditch defence of Uden did not have to be made”

Lipton recollected: “We set up a defensive plan and set booby traps and kept up fire from different positions so the Krauts would think we were a large force. Some British were there, too. Captain Winters told me to organize as many men I could find into one defensive position. I tried to manhandle one Britisher into the defence when he seemed to be reluctant and he stopped me short by pointing out that he was a major and not accustomed of being ordered by a first sergeant – even American.” – that’s our mama Lipton, people xD

St. Oedenrode

Lipton remembered how they were sent to find main Germans body. They were in a spread formation and were fired on in the middle of large open field. “We hit the ground, which was slightly rolling, and gave some cover to the men. I heard Bill Guarnere yelling and setting ip the 2nd Platoon machineguns and mortar in the middle of the area to fire on the woods. The tank fire was skipping right over me so I crawled for the woods we had just left when suddenly I saw someone standing right by me. I looked up and It was captain Winters, trying to pinpoint where the Kraut fire was coming from. Feeling somewhat foolish, I stood up and together we tried to evaluate the situation.”

Behind Americans, were Sherman tanks manned by British troops.

Lip continued: “The tanks could see the German positions and three of their tanks on the far side of the field, we yelled to our tanks to come up to fire on them. The British lead tank left the road and came forward through the trees.”

They yelled to the British tanks the Germans were right across the field, but for some reason the Shermans continued to move forward to open field.

Lip: “Within 15 seconds, a 76 mm shell from one of the German Panther tanks slammed into the British tank, hitting the shield around its 75mm gun and deflected up without penetrating it. When it hit, I was standing right by the tank and I must have jumped six feet and dove for cover in a ditch. I knew there would be more shells right away. They weren’t long in coming. The second shell came about 15 to 20 seconds later. The Sherman was open throttle in reverse to back into the woods again but it was too late. That second shell hit below the 75mm gun shield and penetrated the armour. The tank’s commander hands were blown off and he was trying to get out of the hatch using his arms when the third shell hit the tank, blowing him out and killing him and setting the tank on fire. It burned all night with its ammo exploding intervals.”

The same situation from Don’s perspective: “We had five tanks attached to us. We got the tank commander and took him to a sandy knoll where the Tiger could be seen clearly through a small opening in the trees. He brought a tank up, spun the tracks into the knoll so they could lower the 75mm cannon enough to get on the turret of the Tiger."

"When that was accomplished he suddenly decided he didn’t want to fire from that position because he would only get one shot and, if he missed, the Tiger would take him. About a hundred yards to the south there was a finger-sized trip of 25-foot tall pine trees. The strip was about 40 yards wide and ran for a distance of 200 yards. The tank commander decided to line his five tanks behind the trees and move through them together with all the Shermans opening fire from the edge of the pine trees prior to breaking out into the sandy field.”

“The 2nd Platoon spaced themselves between the tanks moving through them assaulting across the field to the Veghel road. (…) The Tiger, in rapid succession, poured 88mm shells into the woods, knocking all five tanks out in a minute or so. We were able to pull some of the crew  members out of the tanks. Several were on fire and we threw sand and blankets in them to douse the flames.  When the first machine gun fire rattled, our new platoon leader stuck his head in the sand and so ended his career with the 101st.”

“Platoon sergeant Bill Guarnere and squad leader Joe Toye controlled the men and completed the crossing. I had the mortar squad and was busy getting fire on a German machine gun position. Once the Shermans were knocked out, the Tiger jauntily pulled out. Its machine guns were of no use as they were below the crown of the road, which was fortunate for 2nd Platoon.”

Lipton concluded: “We set up a defensive position for the night and Captain Winters told us that he would personally see that anyone who knocked out one of the German tanks that night would get a silver star. We couldn’t find them, however, and the next morning when we attacked the German positions, we found they had all withdrawn.”

Meanwhile:

When General Tylor was wounded, after picking himself from the ground he said: “The sonsabitches got me in the ass!”

It was also mentioned when Major Oliver Horton was killed by a shrapnel as he approached the railroad station near Opheusden in the midst of the heavy fighting in the morning of October 5th. I got an impression from the book that he was really liked among the soldiers.

Operation Pegasus

Screaming Eagles were aided by British airborne engineers and Dutch underground members – jfyi.

E Company men were in the most suitable position on the line, that’s why they got the job.

David ‘Mad Colonel of Arnhem’ Dobey was absolutely fucking mad: wounded, taken a prisoner, escaped from hospital, contacted the Dutch underground, crawled the German lines at night and swam across the Neder Rijn to reach allies.

Malarkey: “In mid-October I was taken to Division HQ by my company commander, 1Lt. Fred Heyliger, for a meeting with G-2, the purpose unknown. We were escorted into a room that contained large wall maps and aerial photos. There were several British officers, together with our G-2 personnel, Lt. Heyliger and myself.”

“At the time of the meeting, I was the sergeant of 2nd platoon, having succeeded Bill Guarnere, who had been injured. Part of our platoon responsibility during the period included the night-time out-posting of an orchard and complex of farm buildings on the bank of Rhine, due north of the island village of Randwijk. It was one of the few areas the Division occupied that had Rhine River concealment. I was asked if mall British assault boats could be concealed in the orchard, so as not to be visible by the Germans across the Rhine of from the air. Also needed information on whether these boats could be brought in one night and used the following night. I responded to both questions in the affirmative and explained that there was a deep, high water overflown ditch that circled the  south edge of the orchard. It was 6 to 7 feet deep and 8 to 10 feet across. The bordering fruit trees spanned the ditch with their limbs, blocking visibility from the air.”

“Following the preliminary discussion, a somewhat dishevelled red-bearder British colonel was brought into the room and introduced. It was explained that he had worked his way through German lines and swam the Rhine the night before into the Division sector. He related that he had been working with and aided by the Dutch underground. They had a plan to effect the escape of as many as 140 allied soldiers, mostly British paratroopers, from German territory west of Arnhem. He laid out a detailed and elaborate plan that was to culminate in a river crossing through the 2nd Platoon sector a week later.”

“Dobey stated that all the troops were secreted in various Dutch homes, barns and buildings, some as far as fifteen miles from the projected crossing point. They would move each night toward the Rhine, led primarily by Dutch women. The line of direction was to be identified by firing each night, at midnight, of ten rounds from British 40mm gun from atop the dike, across the orchard, into the high ground west of Arnhem. The British assault boats would be placed in the orchard ditch the night before the crossing, which would occur at 0100 hours, the following night signalled by a flashing red light. Two men from 2nd Platoon, with rifles and tommy guns, would ride in each boat in the event German opposition was encountered.”

The following Monday night was set as the rescue attempt. Further precautions called for a machine gunners and riflemen from the 3rd Platoon to be positioned both east and west of the orchard on the banks of the Rhine for additional supporting fire. Two machine gun teams would accompany the rescue craft and set up position on both flanks on the enemy side of the river, to ward off any German troops who might rush forward to interfere with the landing operation.

Don: “All personnel were to be positioned in the orchard before midnight, at which time the Bofors gun would be fired for the final time. Following this, a corps of British artillery would blast the high ground west of Arnhem with incendiaries which would provide background light for the boast making the crossing. Then they were to be abandoned on the bank of the Rhine.”

“Colonel Dobey was asked how many soldiers could be oved in weeks’ period, to a specific assembly point. He stated it would be done by Dutch women travelling at night by bicycle. German forces were apparently not very suspicious of the Dutch women. Driving to our company area, I remarked to Lt. Heyliger that the plan seemed almost too perfect to have a chance. He said the British were exceptionally resourceful when they were concerned.”

Cpl.  Walter S. Gordon was one of the machine gunners involved in the flank operation: “One day while positioned on the bank, 1Lt. Fred Heyliger called a company formation and asked, or rather stated, he needed men to accompany him on some sort of mission. I don’t recall him asking for my volunteers but rather pointed to a number of us and that was that. He required two machine guns and a number of riflemen. PFC Francis J. Mellet was designated as one of the gunners and I was selected as the other. I recall we were later transported to a rear area and introduced to the canvas boats which were part of the British equipment. They were fragile and had plywood-like bottoms. We were asked to familiarize ourselves with the operation of the boats by paddling about on a small pond.”

48 hours before the operation the Dutch informed Dobey that Germans had ordered all able-bodied men in the village to report Monday morning to dig defences. For the British and Americans to appear for this detail would mean almost certain discovery and capture. Dobey decided to set the rescue ahead 24 hours.

Malarkey: “So far, all the pieces of the British colonel’s puzzle had fallen into place. ”

“At about 0100, Ed Joint who was with me on the boats, and I were sitting with our backs against a tree on the edge of the orchard, looking intently across the Rhine. Ed remarked that he did not see how everything could work without a hitch. I said he might be right. About two minutes later, Joint said ‘Look Sarge, a light!’ The red light was flashing as planned. I yelled at the crew and we shoved the boat into water. We were the first boat to cross.”

“I was in the bow with my tommy gun, fully expecting that some kind of opposition would be encountered. I was crouched down, so that my eyes could see over the bow. The fires in the distance provided a good background for any silhouette that appeared. About ten yards from the north bank of the rhine, I saw figures milling in the water and above them, a huddled group. I jumped in the river and met a British sergeant. I told him we would take ten men in each boat that was to be in the crossing.”

Sink: “Heyliger was in charge of fanning out his troops after he reached the other side, gathering in the fold, or inside the box, these people that were over there, corralling them toward the boats, putting them abroad, getting them back across the water, then gathering his men and getting them back, also.”

Cpl. Walter Gordon: “The idea was to establish two lateral outposts flanking the route which was to be used by the men rescued. The machine gun I manned was set up and rifle-men were stationed nearby. We lay there quietly and guarded the front which had been assigned to us. I do not recall how long we were posted but eventually we were summoned back to the boats which had transported us over the river.”

Malarkey: “I brought ten paratroopers in my boat. The most interesting one was a sergeant from the British 7th Armoured Division, who had escaped from German prison camp. He said, ‘Sarge, I’m all through. My wife has been a widow five times now, and she is not going to be again. He was from the famed ‘Rats of Tobruk’ and had been reported MIA several times in Africa and for the last time on the continent”

Cpl. Walter Gordon: “In spite of the fact we had been admonished to be quiet, we did a bit zealous on our return and paddled like demons. Each time a paddle made contact with the wood frame of the boat, it had the sound of a kettle drum. I was astonished that we were not heard in Berlin. Not a shot was fired.”

Malarkey: “The next morning all hell broke loose at the orchard and the bank of the Rhine as heavy German artillery devastated much of the orchard, buildings and all of the boats.”

And there is a nice memory of Sergeant Taylor from F Company about Strayer.

Taylor and a few other soldiers were on a patrol that went bad, they ended in the water on cold day and when they rerurned to the S-2 Battalion: “Gosh, it was cold riding back in the jeep as we were soaking wet. Colonel Strayer was back there. He gave us a cup of coffee and I think it was the best cup of coffee I ever had in my life. We were told to take off our wet clothes. Strayer threw a blanket around us.”

And that’s all about Easy and other familiar faces but there are some memories of other paratroopers that caught my attention:

Before jumping. “Pvt. C.D. Kreider had a feeling of impending doom. Sgt. C.D. Edgar related:  Kreider gave me his watch and wedding band and told me to  send them home to his wife as he was not going to make it. I told him: If you don’t make it, I’ll be with you and I won’t make it either. Kreider responded: Sarge – you are too mean to die!” It seems he was indeed too mean to die, because he survived the war xD

It was never mentioned in BOB, but a lot paratroopers came by gliders. Cpl. Michael J. Friel, medic for the 327th Glider Infantry Regiment, was in the co-pilot’s seat of Hillyard’s glider. He wrote: The pilot gave me instructions on how to land a glider in case he, the pilot, was disabled. This lesson occurred while the fight to Holland…

In Eindhoven, memories of Bert Pulles, a young Dutchman. He noticed soldiers passing by and asked ‘Are you English?’ Someone said: ‘No, we are Americans!’ My answers was ‘Even better!’. “I was so excited that I did not notice anything – just so happy to see American paratroopers that I could talk to. I am sure that I never noticed their ranks, if they had any, I just saw 12 or 15  young ‘gods’ who came to liberate us. The only thing I noticed was the proudly-worn Screaming Eagle patch on their left shoulder – a badge I will never forget”. 

Cpl. Pete Santini: “Pvt. Floyd Ankeny, a man who has been in the company almost since its beginning, gave his foxhole to one of the new men who had never been under fire before and calmly began to dig himself another hole. I questioned him later and asked him why he did it. His answer was: I thought the new man was a little frightened.” Who wasn’t?!”

Veghel

Cpl. Chester E. Otsby: “I felt a tug on my leg and there was a little boy with a red wagon. He was trying to tell me to put my radio in the wagon and he’d pull it alongside. I was trying to tell him as the best I could that I had to carry the radio. All of sudden it dawned on me that since the radio was broken what the heck,, it wasn’t doing an  good on my back so I obliged him by putting it in his little agon and we marched along. He was about the happiest little Dutch boy in entire country”.

Eerde

Pvt. Jesse Garcia, form G Company: “We were  dug around a perimeter and I was short distance from the captain Kraeger. Evidently I was dug in too deep. I didn’t hear him calling me. He crawled out of his foxhole and looked down in my position. I remember looking up and seeing the captain. He said: Garcia, if you dig that foxhole deeper, I’ll consider you AWOL!”

Another memory of that Captain. Pvt. Garcia accompanied him to the HQ, where the Captain talk to Colonel Ewell and Colonel Griswold. They came under a fire. Garcia wrote: “I don’t know if we were spotted by a few Krauts or not but they opened small arms fire. I hit the ground immediately. Neither Captain Kraeger or the Colonels ever flinched or jumped. I remember Colonel Ewell saying in his southern twang ‘Well, I guess we better take cover.’ They were real men in combat.”

PFC Monaghan: “Warren Reudy and I were down in a very small ditch when a shell exploded so close it covered us with dirt. After seeing that neither of us was hurt, I looked up and there on the road, just as calm as could be with not care in the world, was Captain Kraeger. I said ‘Hey, Captain, when are we going to get out of this mess?’ He replied very calmly ‘Don’t worry Monoghan, I got you in and I will get you out’. Well, that was all I needed, and he did get us out. He was one of the greatest leaders I ever met.”

And now, my fave story form the entire book:

Sergeant James E. Breier and the most hilarious action during whole Market Garden. He and a few other soldiers were on a patrol and noticed Germans waving a white flag, like they wanted to surrender. The Americans approached them to realize that the flag only appeared in the sun as white, but was orange in reality. They were taken prisoners but… they started to argue that the Germans were the prisoners not them xD Breier even argued with a German lieutenant xD He was even warned they were going to shoot him, if he would not shut up. The best thing? He bitched so hard, the Germans finally decided he came to them voluntarily and was not really a POW. So the next day, they took him to American lines and let him free xD

Conclusion of the whole Market Garden operation:

„The cost had been high again, just as in Normandy where 1,098 had been listed as killed. The KIA’s numbered more than 858 in Holland, 2,151 were listed as wounded and 398 were counted as missing or captured during the campaign.”

It's a very good book and if you are a fan of military non-fiction and memories of soldiers - highly recommended.

I've also read book 1 -> here.

[heavyy12]

Uncle Matt

2/2:

           Jesse lifted his legs onto Matt’s shoulders and his uncle soon began to enter him.

           “Fuck, you’re tight.” Matt said as he struggled to enter Jesse’s hole.

           “It’s been awhile since I’ve had any action.” Jesse replied as he winced in pain from his uncle’s cock.

           Matt finally made his entire way into Jesse’s hole and started picking up speed. Jesse’s face was a mix of pleasure and pain and Matt took notice quickly.

           “You okay?” Matt said, slowing down.

           “Yeah, yeah.” Jesse assured him, “don’t slow down.”

           “Are you sure?” Matt said coming to a full stop.

           “They’re just getting riled up. I have ten inches flooding my hole and baby feet kicking at my ribs.” Jesse said as he brought a hand to the top of his round orb.

           “Can I feel?” Matt asked as he moved a hand towards Jesse’s and almost instantly feeling a jab from within. “Damn, that was a big one.”

           “No kidding.” Jesse said as he took a couple deep breaths. “Let’s wrap this up, I’m getting close.” The pregnant man said as he returned both hands under his head. Matt had one hand on Jesse’s bump and another was jacking him off. Within seconds, the pregnant man blew his load on the bottom of his belly.

           “Fuck, I needed that.” Jesse said, jittering in pleasure.

           “I’m getting close.” Matt exclaimed.

           “Cum on my bump.” Jesse suggested as he rubbed his own load across the bottom of his belly.

           “Sure thing.” Matt replied.

           A moment later, Matt pulled all ten inches from Jesse’s stretched hole and blew a thick load atop his massively pregnant nephew. Catching his breath, Matt rubbed the sides of Jesse’s belly, tracing any remaining kicks from within while Jesse played with his uncle’s load strewn across his stretched skin.

           “Wash up, I’ll make dinner.” Matt said, helping his pregnant nephew off the bed and giving him a playful slap on his fat ass.

           Several weeks passed and Jesse was approaching his due date but it didn’t seem like his twins were ready to make their debut. A few of Matt’s friends proposed one last night out before fatherhood and Jesse offered to DD since he could miraculously fit behind the wheel of his uncle’s double cab Silverado.

           Matt texted Jesse around 1AM to pick the crew up from a downtown bar. When Jesse pulled up, there was no sign of his uncle, just Matt’s friend Tim. Tim hopped into the front seat of Matt’s truck that Jesse was driving.

           “Where’s my uncle?” Jesse asked, short of breath from some major activity stirring within his womb.

           “He’s trying to find Trent.” Tim said as he fidgeted in the passenger seat, shuffling through his pockets.

           “Who the hell’s Trent?” Jesse asked.

“This guys you uncle hookups with every once in awhile. Total babe.” Tim continued, “Fucking finally!” He exclaimed, holding his wallet. “I thought this thing was long gone.”

Jesse reconfigured himself in the driver seat, clearly uncomfortable and ready to get home.

“Damn, you’ve really grown since the last time I saw you.” Tim said, “do you mind?” He asked, gesturing to touch Jesse’s belly.

“Have at it.” The pregnant man said, lifting his shirt, exposing his entire bump and erect nipples.

“Fuck, Jesse. That’s the biggest belly I’ve probably ever seen!” Tim exclaimed, now flooding over the center console with both hands atop his bump.

“Gee, thanks!” Jesse laughed.

“When are you due again?” Tim asked as he played with Jesse’s popped navel.

“Next week.” Jesse shrugged, placing both hands in between his pecs and belly.

“I wouldn’t mind helping you get there a little sooner, if you wanted.” Tim suggested, moving a hand up to Jesse’s much fuller pec.

“What do you mean?” Jesse asked.

“Well, I’ve never fucked a pregnant dude before.” Tim continued, “And I think it would be hot being the reason he went into labor.”

“Really? This turns you on?” Jesse laughed, grabbing both sides of his belly.

“Dude. Yes.” Tim said, grabbing his cock beneath his blue jeans.

“What do you say about coming over to my place tonight and letting me help move this along.” Tim suggested, leaning in and placing a hand firmly atop Jesse’s baby bump.

“I wouldn’t be opposed.” Jesse replied.

“Great.” Tim said as he passionately kissed Jesse without losing grip of Jesse’s massive orb.

Matt and Trent finally appeared and Matt asked that Jesse drop the pair off at Trent’s, which was perfect for the plans he and Tim had made just minutes later.

Jesse pulled up to Tim’s place, a great pad with a pool, Jacuzzi, and fire pit.

“Mind if we take a quick dip?” Jesse asked, eyeing the pool, “It’ll help loosen me up a bit, the water at Matt’s has been great on my back.”

“Yeah, that sounds nice, but I don’t think I have trunks that’ll fit you.” Tim joked.

“No problem, I wasn’t proposing we wear them anyways.” Jesse said as he dropped his shorts and boxer briefs.

The pregnant man lowered himself into the pool and Tim was close behind. As soon as Tim got his hands on Jesse’s bump, the pregnant man could feel Tim’s eight inches poking at the bottom of his belly.

“Fuck, you are so heavy.” Tim said as he lifted Jesse’s belly from behind, running his cock through Jesse’s ass cheeks. “How much have you gained?”

“Nearly 100 pounds.” Jesse said as he turned around to face Tim, standing in the shallow end with the majority of his belly above water.

“And most of that’s gone to this.” Tim said as ran circles around Jesse’s massive bump. “And these.” He continued, grabbing a handful each of Jesse’s much fuller pecs. “And these.” He finished, pressing his body into Jesse’s to reach around and grab each ass cheek.

“Let’s head into the bedroom.” Tim suggested, leading Jesse out of the pool.

Within minutes, Tim was inside Jesse, giving the pregnant man all eight inches from behind.

“I wanna see you work my cock. Do you think you can get on top?” Tim asked as he slowed down.

“Oof, I don’t know, we can try.” Jesse replied, slipping off Tim’s cock.

Tim took position on the bed, lying flat with his head and neck supported while Jesse straddled him on top, holding onto the headboard as he worked his balance. He lowered himself onto Tim’s cock with assistance and started moving up and down.

Jesse’s belly was now the only thing in Tim’s line of sight. He had both hands on Jesse’s orb as the pregnant man weighed him down with nearly 100 pounds of baby weight.

“I’m going to cum.” Jesse exclaimed, leaning back on Tims knees to expose the area beneath his belly. Tim took the cue and began jacking Jesse off for just a couple seconds before the pregnant man blew all over Tim’s stomach and chest.

“Fuck, that was hot, Jesse.” Tim exclaimed, swiping some of Jesse’s cum up with his fingers and licking them.

“Are you close? This is getting too hard.” Jesse winced.

“Yeah, but I can finish on top.” Tim suggested, guiding the pregnant man onto his back and re-entering his willing and loosened hole.

Tim picked up speed. Jesse winced in pain but was also overcome from pleasure. Ass clapping filled the bedroom and within a couple minutes, Tim blew his load all over Jesse’s baby bump.

“Fuck, that was hot.” Jesse cooed in delight as Tim laid next to him.

“But no babies!” Tim joked.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t try again sometime.” Jesse smiled.

The following week, Jesse was still pregnant. Matt could tell his nephew was ready to get this pregnancy over with, so he spent an entire Saturday planning ways to induce labor.

 They began with a morning walk around the neighborhood. It wasn’t long until Jesse could no longer manage the pain in his feet and lower back. His gym top barely covered the bottom portion of his belly and stuck to him like glue when he began sweating profusely.

 “We have to turn around, Matt, I can’t do this much longer.” Jesse said, catching his breath and trying to subdue some kicks from within.

 “Okay, well let’s get home for a dip.” Matt suggested.

 When they reached Matt’s pool, he lifted Jesse’s top off that was essentially glued to every curve of the pregnant man’s massive bump. Jesse planted one hand on Matt’s shoulders and attempted to use the other to remove his bottoms.

 Matt helped his pregnant nephew into the pool, where it seemed there was immediate relief.

 Matt had Jesse doing some exercises and back strokes before his pregnant nephew complained of hunger.

 “Alright, well we’re having omelets with lots of jalapeno an sriracha.” Matt explained as he helped Jesse from the pool and handed him a towel. “relax out here and I’ll bring your food out.”

 Jesse sat on a pool lounger and dried off while Matt made them breakfast. Jesse no longer needed a table as his belly sufficed, so the heavily pregnant man ate the spicy omelets from atop his belly.

 Matt snapped some pictures of this hilarity but Jesse wasn’t amused. He was so over this pregnancy.

 “I need a nap.” Jesse exclaimed, finishing off a third omelet.

 “How about we get some final pregnancy photos of you in the backyard first?” Matt suggested and helped his pregnant nephew from the lounger.

 Matt directed Jesse into doing several different shots that really showed off his size. Jesse weighed 298 pounds, so it definitely showed from his once 200 pound frame. He was tanned, which masked most the stretchmatks on the bottom of his bump and his belly button stuck out alarmingly far from the rest of his 66” round baby gut.

 “These turned out nice!” Matt exclaimed as they entered the air conditioned home.

 “Nice, send them my way.” Jesse said as he headed to his bedroom. “I’m going to shower then nap.”

 Jesse woke a couple hours later, still pregnant and still miserable.

 Matt suggested starting a fire pit after dinner to see if the heat would coerce the babies out, but it ended up making Jesse feel worse.

 “I think it’s time to call it a day. These two will never come out on their own.” Jesse sighed, “I’m going to be pregnant forever.”

 “There’s one last thing we can try.” Matt smirked. “It will definitely be the VERY LAST time we do it, though.”

 “If you’re suggesting you fuck me into labor, it’s only fitting since the first time you fucked me, this happened.” Jesse said, gesturing to his bare belly in the campfire light.

 “I have no doubt we can make this happen.” Matt said as he pulled Jesse from the outdoor seat.

 “I’ll meet you in my shower in five.” Matt said.

 Jesse waddled into the house and made his way to his uncle’s shower. Jesse was covered in sweat from being near the fire and exhausted from the long day.

 Matt entered the bathroom in his boxer briefs holding lube and turned on the shower.

 “Lets lube you up, Jesse. This is going to get rough.” Matt smirked and slapped his pregnant nephew’s bare ass.

 Jesse stepped in the shower and wasted no time. He positioned himself with his elbows and forearms against the shower’s stone while Matt approached from behind, lathering all ten inches and Jesse’s hole with extra lube.

 “Just power through, Jess.” Matt whispered into Jesse’s ear as he stuck the head of his cock into Jesse’s hole.

 Once all the way, Matt started fucking his nephew mercilessly. Matt wanted to hit Jesse’s cervix, he wanted to rile the twins up. Jesse just wanted this to be over, so he did exactly what his uncle Matt said: power through the pain.

 Matt picked up speed as he fucked Jesse from behind, wrapping his arms around Jesse’s shoulders and pulling him close, reaching down to feel the handiwork he’d done to his nephew over nine months ago.

 Jesse was crying in pain at this point. He’d never been fucked so hard. He could feel his uncle so far deep inside him, he was concerned Matt would hit the babies with the top of his cock.

 Suddenly, after nearly ten minutes of intense fucking, Jesse felt a rush and sense of relief and Matt noticed fluid gushing from Jesse’s hole between thrusts.

 “Fuck, Matt.” Jesse exclaimed, reaching back to Matt’s thighs to motion him to stop. “You fucking did it.”

 “Told you I would.” Matt smiled, slapping Jesse’s ass. “Here, take a seat and I’ll clean you off before we head to the hospital.”

 Jesse sat on the shower’s seat, legs wide apart to allow his heavy and distended belly room. Matt bathed his laboring nephew, assisting him through Jesse’s first contractions, before hoisting him off the shower bench and dressing him for the hospital.

 Matt called his half-brother, Jesse’s brother and let him know Jesse was in labor. His family planned to come the following day, but thanked Matt for being by his side. Jesse labored for ten hours before attempting to push the first baby out. Matt held tight to his nephew’s hand during the attempt, but the doctors inevitably decided on a C-section to deliver the 10+ pound each twins.

 After Jesse was sewed up and returned to his room, Matt handed him each of their twins to feed.

 “The doctor said they’re both very healthy.” Matt smiled.

 “They should be at their sizes!” Jesse joked.

 “You did good, kid.” Matt said, running his hand through Jesse’s hair.

 “Thanks, Uncle Matt.”