#just tagging some stuff for visibility... help me out please!

[jesperr-fahey]

i am once again asking for recommendations for manga that are complete. i'll try basically anything, i've read a bunch of different genres, but i do like good fight scenes. favorites include jujutsu kaisen, witch hat atelier, dungeon meshi, chainsaw man, spy family, my hero academia, fullmetal alchemist. i also love some good horror content (huge junji ito fan). i'm not a BIG romance fan, background is totally fine, but i don't think i would like a Romance Manga. interesting female characters is a plus.

[ahotmesswithprivilege]

Never Alone

paring: Bradley Bradshaw x female!IC!reader (callsign Nike )

wordcount: ca. 3700 (only because this will be a multi-part thing XD)

synopsis: When Bradley stumbles out of the Hard Deck with a pretty tag chaser he has a plan for the night. Take her home, fuck her, kick her out. Not that this was something he did often but with the stress at work he needed to let off some steam. That is until he hears someone crying and his night takes a turn he hadn't expected at all.

note: I initially intended to post the whole thing (currently at almost 12000 words 🤯 ), but I really wanted to post a new piece and since I started a lot of new WIP instead of finishing something I thought this would be a good idea. Also, my Rooster debut so to speak (you can thank @mynameismckenziemae for this one. The fact that Rooster is the hero in this one is kind of on her 😅 . Thanks for helping me decide and for listening to my rambles on the regular. I am really thankful for the support) and I hope you all like it. And you know that navy inaccuracies are a given with my stuff, but this time I went a bit more ham than usual. The role of IC (Incident Commander) is existing in crisis and natural disaster management but fuck if I know if some work for the Navy. I made all of that up for the sake of the plot. Don't like that, please skip this one. And last but not least, yes this is yet again very self-indulgent stuff and it will get only worse with the next part, so if you don't like it, click off 😘

Trigger Warning(If I forgot something or you want me to add to the list, my inbox is wide open. You are responsible for your media consumption, so proceed with caution, you know the drill): plus-size!reader, military/navy inaccuracies, non-canon (not even sure if this is canon compliant so, take that as you will), allusion to trauma/dissociative episode, written by a non-native speaker

|| Masterlist ||

divider by @sweetmelodygraphics banner by @firefly-graphics gif by @jensens-ackles

!!!Minors do not interact! I block blank blogs/without age/Minors!!!

When Bradley stumbles out of the Hard Deck with a pretty tag chaser on his arm he knows how this is gonna end. Take her home, have some fun and then kick her out. He wasn't one to indulge often, but considering how Maverick had been on his ass during training all week, he really needed to let off some steam. His arms were wrapped around her waist, lips wandering over her neck as he manoeuvred her back towards his Bronco until he stopped in his tracks.

There it was again. He had almost missed it with the busty brunette giggling into his ear, but he was sure that he heard right. "Hey Casanova, I am down here", she puts a hand on his cheek to pull his focus back to her," You wanted to show me a good time, remember?" But Rooster couldn't focus on the way her hands were roaming his body or the way she began to kiss his jaw, leaving a trace of lipgloss in her wake. "Didn't you hear that? Someone's crying" "That's just a girl who got what you promised me", she retorts, but it only makes him cringe. If this is how she imagined the sound of a consenting couple, he sure as fucking hell didn't want her in his bed.

Untangling himself from her limbs he walked over to the dark place next to a huge palm tree. The curled-up figure was barely visible in the shadows, but the sniffling was getting louder the closer he walked. "Hey what about me?", the woman whines, stomping her high heel sandal-clad foot on the ground. "Go in and find yourself another set of tags", he growls back annoyed, regretting the tone of his voice and the volume the moment he sees the figure flinch.

This was bad.

For a moment he wondered if he should call Phoenix or even Penny to make sure he wasn't doing more damage than good, but then he saw how a ring caught the light from the Hard Deck entrance. He knows that ring. The silver laurel branches that are winding around a delicate finger. He has seen it more than once.

"Nike?", he freezes for a moment unable to compute the situation. He had been at the Hard Deck all night and was sure he would have spotted you in the crowd. Not to mention that you weren't one for bars. You said as much yourself whenever one of the others had invited you for an evening out. "Hey Nike, it's me. Rooster", he tries to make himself small as he approaches, not wanting to intimidate you, voice soft and gentle. "Are you...", he begins before he stops himself. Was he really just about to ask you if you were ok? It's so goddamn fucking obvious that you are not, so he settles for something else. "What happened, Nike?" You were still sitting there, legs pulled close to your body, head resting on your knees as you cried. He moved another step closer when you suddenly looked up at him as if only now you realised that someone was there. "Rooster?"

Your chest was heaving, your fingers nervously drumming on your kneecaps while you tried to focus on him, clearly struggling with the situation "Yeah. It's me. Shall I call someone?", he asked and as soon as he mentioned the call you began frantically shaking your head, reaching a trembling hand out to him to grab the wrist of the hand that was about to reach into his pocket. "No, please don't" He pulls his hand back out of his pocket and lifts it up in the air to signal surrender. "Ok, I'm not"

Bradley only knows you as IC. The woman for the impossible jobs and who you call when shit hit the fan and you need someone to fix it. A woman tough as nails and level-headed who always has a backup plan for the backup plan to make sure you got your people home safe and you were fucking brilliant at it. They named you after the goddess of victory for a reason. Whenever he was on a mission you were responsible for he felt a lot calmer and he knew he wasn't the only one. People trusted your competence and your judgement. They trusted you.

Hell, you were probably the only person on planet Earth to tell Admiral Simpson no if you thought something was a shitty idea and lived to tell the tale.

"Then say what you need Nike. Please?", he pleads feeling completely helpless. He has never seen you so utterly terrified and there is a feeling rising in his chest that makes him want to knock on the door of whoever left you so scared and very impolitely beat the shit out of them. You loosen the grip on his wrist and let your hand glide down his arm until yours is in his and he gives you a reassuring squeeze. Even with his fingers wrapped around yours, he can feel the trembling. When you finally answer him your voice is barely above a whisper. "A place to stay"

He didn't need to hear anything else. He just nodded and pulled you up by the hand that was still clinging to his own. Your feet were wobbly and the heels didn't make it any better. His eyes wandered over you, assessing whether there was any injury that he had to be mindful of before he let go of your hand for a second, the terror lighting back up in your eyes immediately. "It's ok, Nike. I am here", his voice is low and raspy as he places one hand on your back and bends down, placing the other under your knees to pick you up bridal style. He felt the way your body seemed to relax in his hold, face buried in his neck as he rested his head on yours before he murmured into your hair. "Let's get you home"

At a red light on the drive to his place he looks down where your hand is still holding his, his thumb gently petting the back of your hand while your head rested on his shoulder. In all the years of knowing you, he's never seen you so close to someone else. You usually prefer to keep people out of your personal space. It was something everyone on base respected and that makes him wonder.

You were so strong, so resourceful and intelligent. You had seen so much shit in your life and 9 times out of ten they called you in when it already hit the fan, so you were no stranger to working under immense pressure, the lives of people depending on the shots you were calling. How could someone bring you into a position where you would be so utterly terrified that it'd push you into a state that looked like a full-blown anxiety attack?

Considering the pretty dress, the heels and your by now smudged make-up it was likely you'd been out today and since bars and clubs are not your scene, he figures it must have been a restaurant. The thought that someone treated you so badly was infuriating him. You had dedicated your life to protecting people, making sure that they get back home to their families and loved ones unharmed. To treat someone like you bad enough to send you spiralling called for a grade-A asshole and a part of him hoped you'd tell him the name later. He would gladly pay that asshat a visit and he would bet, the rest of the dagger squad would happily tag along.

It's not much later when he puts the Bronco in park in front of his house, feeling the way you instantly stiffen next to him. "I'll go ahead and open the door", your grip around his hand tightens even more. You are holding on to him for dear life. Bradley Bradshaw was your lifeline right now and to be someone you trusted so much filled his heart with pride. He only wished he would have found out under different circumstances.

"I'll be right back, Nike", he hears you stifle a sob while you tremble. Whether it's the chill night air or your fear, he is not quite sure and so he leans to the side to press a gentle kiss on your forehead. "You tell me when you are ready", he adds, pulling you into an embrace as the two of you sit here in his car. He'd stay here with you for hours if you needed it. "Promise you'll come back" "I promise", he looks down at you and you nod. Letting go of his hand so he can get out of the car. Brad cannot remember any other time when he ran up the steps to his house this fast, unlocking the door and grabbing the quilt from his couch before he gets right back to you.

Seeing the way your eyes light up when you see him as he opens the car door makes his heart soar and ache at the same time. "Told you, I'd come for you Nike", he steps closer and gently places the blanket around your shoulders and when he picks you up again he feels how you instantly melt into his embrace. "I'll always come for you"

He tried to kick his front door closed as quietly as he could to not spook you even more and kept the lights off too as he made his way to his bedroom. From there he goes into the en-suite and sits you down on the counter. "Blanket on or off?" "Off" He nods, taking the colourful patchwork off of your shoulders and throwing it in the corner where he usually stores his dirty laundry. He could deal with that some other time. "I'll turn on my bedside lamp in the other room. Close your eyes and I’ll tell you when to look”, he was looking for any sign that you needed another moment but you nodded.

So he turns around and walks into his bedroom, turning on the lamp and throwing the next best piece of fabric over it to dim the light. It was enough to see something but not too much on your eyes that had probably gotten used to the darkness outside. "You can open your eyes", he says, turning back to look at you, eyes wandering over you for a moment to see if there was any injury that he had missed in the darkness outside the Hard Deck but he couldn't find anything. On his way back to you he rummaged around in his drawer, finding a Phillies jersey that could fit you if the dress wasn't comfortable enough for you to sleep in.

"I'm back", he announces himself and sees how your entire body relaxes, shoulders lowering and fingers no longer playing nervously with your ring. "I'm gonna take your shoes off first" He throws the jersey over his shoulder before he goes down on his knees, unlacing your oxford heels, every move slow and deliberate, before he places them down on the floor under the cabinet, to get them out of the way. He is looking up at you from his crouched position. He wants to seem as non-threatening as possible for what comes next.

"Do you want to keep your dress on or change into a shirt?", he asks, taking the jersey from his shoulder and showing it to you. He sees the way you are contemplating for a long while, brow furrowed and teeth sinking into your lower lip before you reach out for the worn-out material. It's soft and you are digging your fingers into the material and holding onto it the way you'd been holding onto his hand. Holding on for dear life.

"Want me to stay or wait outside?", he asks, not wanting to put you into a worse situation than you are already in. Damn, he wished you would have allowed him to get Phoenix or Penny, then this would have been not as bad by a long shot. You are quiet for a while and he wonders if you've drifted off again the way he found you in front of the Hard Deck, but then your gaze finds his and you take a deep breath. "Can you help with the zipper?" "Of course"

He gets up and watches you jump off the counter, your stance much more stable now that the heels are off. It's more the look he's used of you and it gives him the feeling that he's at least doing something right here. You turn around, his jersey still pressed to your chest, looking down at the washed-out red and white fabric as if it gave you some form of solace. Bradley takes a step closer, his eyes searching yours in the mirror to make sure you know what would come next and when you give him a nod he reaches out his hand, gently pulling down the zipper. Underneath the fabric is some sort of underdress all laced up with a pretty bow. Fuck. He would have never taken you for the corset-wearing type of gal.

You let the dress slide down to the floor before you pull his jersey over your head. He wants to help you to smooth it down your body but you shake your head and his hands are off immediately. "Sorry" "No...Can you untie...?" This time he's the one nodding, letting his hands glide under the fabric, pulling at the laces to undo the bow and then loosening them enough so you could let it glide down your body too and step out. The pile of fabric, tulle and boning is on the floor and he sees that you attempt to lean down, your hand on the counter for balance in order to pick your clothes up but he's faster. "Thank you" “I can put this on a hanger for you”, he nods over to where he usually stores his drying shirts. “There are loops...”, you start and he easily finds them, placing them on the hanger's hooks before he puts them on the clothes rail. As his eyes wander over the dress, he's wondering for a moment who you had met to doll up like this. "Anything else?"

He sees the way you are thinking, fighting with yourself "Whatever it is, if I can do it, I will" "Can you help with the stockings?" You don't meet his eye, probably embarrassed to make yourself vulnerable in front of a coworker like this but right now Rooster doubts that there is anything in this world he wouldn't do for you.

So for the second time tonight, Bradley Bradshaw lets himself fall onto his knees, feeling your hand on his shoulder for support while both hands are smoothing up your calf to your knee and under the jersey, feeling where the nylon ended so he could pull it down for you. His eyes are glued to the ground to make this at least a little less awkward for you. Once the fabric is gone, he switches to the other side and repeats the same movement before he looks up at you, the bunched-up material ending up under the sink next to your shoes.

"You good, Nike?", he asks, eyes searching your face for any sign that he's overstepped but all he finds is that gentle expression of fondness on your face, not quite a smile but considering the circumstances, Bradley would settle for this. You give him a small nod, hand moving from his shoulder closer to the crook of his neck, fingers lingering on his scars and Brad couldn't help but close his eyes at the gentle touch, willing his body to stay perfectly still to not destroy this moment of peace. Not for you and not for him. "Thank you Rooster", he's had your voice in his ear so often, assertive and commanding, but now your voice was gentle, as much a caress for him as your fingers. "For you, always", he looks up at you and for a moment he feels like the world stops turning and he wonders if given another chance at a different time, you would return to his home and allow him to prove to you that there were men out there who could treat you right.

When you finally pull back your hand he slowly moves up to stand before you, towering over you but you don't flinch. Bradley Bradshaw doesn't make you feel you need to and he cannot help but feel a pride rising in his chest that of all people, you chose him to put your trust in. "Now let's get you into bed", he steps to the side, letting you walk past him with his hand hovering over the small of your back. His hand wants to touch, but he doesn't want to push. Not after the night you had. That is until he realises that you are walking towards the door.

"Where do you think you are going?" "Couch" Fuck no. He would not make you sleep on that thing that was short and so worn out that it'd surely break your back. But what was even worse than the idea of you on his couch was the fact you believed that he would allow, let alone want that. Getting his hands back on you he picks you up bridal style and carries you back over to the bed. "You take the bed" "Rooster..." "No" There is a small smile playing on his lips. It reminds him of the first time he met you way back when.

You had just finished the mission briefing when Hangman suggested a change to the plans and your only reply was: "No" "What no?" "No", you looked Hangman straight in the eyes, pretty brow arched, and everyone in the room could feel the fury start to simmer in Hangman's veins at the way you're dismissing him and his points so easily. "No is a complete sentence, Lieutenant Seresin. Considering your reputation as base casanova I was hoping you'd understand the concept" That was the moment Rooster knew that he liked you.

Rooster was a navy guy and could sleep wherever, even on the hardwood floor if he had to, but you needed some proper rest. He lays you down on the bed as gently as possible and when he straightens his back he sees the expression on your face. It's such a wild swirl of emotions that are washing over your features, ever-changing like the ocean, that he doesn't know what to expect next, but it sure as hell wasn't this. "I'm scared of being alone"

He knows that this is far more than a simple statement. It is your way to ask for him to stay, to have him around for your comfort. It's not like he doesn't want to, but there is a part of him that wonders if this would be something you'd come to regret the next morning. He had always known you as someone who loved her personal space, avoiding even handshakes whenever you could. He had his hands all over you tonight and he didn't want to push his luck, but then he saw your pleading eyes and he smiled down at you. "I'll just get into some comfortable clothes and then I'm right back", he leans down and presses a soothing kiss to your forehead. He couldn't remember the last time he had been this soft around someone and yes, the circumstances were shitty at best, but there was a part of his heart that revelled in the gentleness of these moments. "Thank you, Bradley"

He has to stop himself for a moment, eyes wide with surprise as he looks at you. Never before have you used his first name. It was always Lieutenant, Bradshaw, Rooster or a combination of those three, usually depending on how pissed you were at him for fucking around with your meticulous mission plans. There was a flicker of fear that washed over your face as the realisation hit you what you just said but he reached out his hand, gently resting on your cheek, thumb caressing your skin. "No need to thank me, Nike. I am glad if I can help"

He allows himself another moment to enjoy the feeling of your soft skin against his before he pulls back and turns to grab some fresh clothes to sleep in and heads to the bathroom. His movements are hurried, almost frantic while he gets out of his clothes and ready for bed. All the while feeling a fear creeping up on him. He closed the door, to make sure to respect your boundaries but now he regretted it. It meant he couldn't check in on you, couldn't make sure that you were ok and not spiralling. Throwing his worn clothes over to the hamper without caring if he actually hit or not he just pulls on his sweat pants and opens the door, muscle shirt still in hand as he walks into the bedroom and pulls it over his head.

When he reached the bed where you had curled up already, he crouched down to be on eye level with you. “Tell me what you need from me", his voice is soft and quiet as he talks, pushing a strand of hair out of your face and behind your ear. He sees how you try to sink even deeper into the pillow as if you wanted to hide from him and that makes his heart ache. "Remember Nike. Whatever you need as long as I can make it happen, you'll get it" "Can you...", your voice is barely above a whisper and when he tries to meet your gaze you turn around and scoot over on the bed to make room for him. "I just really don't want to be alone"

You feel the way the mattress is dipping under his weight but you cannot bring yourself to turn around and look him in the eye. "You are not alone Nike", his voice is close to your ear and you can feel the way his breath is fanning out over your cheek and neck. And then you surprise him when you reach behind him and take his hand to place it over your waist, your fingers interlaced with his as your thumb drummed a nervous rhythm into the palm of his hand. "You are never alone"

Part 2

likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated as always

If you want to read more you can find my masterlist HERE

[samcrosfaith]

WITCHCRAFT 🔮

Jax Teller x random fem!oc because I suck at writing character x reader.

warning ⚠️; 18+, a little bit of smut towards the end, paranormal stuff like witchcraft and blood.

a/n; please feel free to leave requests in my ask box for Halloween and Christmas One Shots. Happy and Jax only please because I'm not good at writing the other characters lol. If you have a specific wish/look/backstory for your OC, please let me know— otherwise I'll come up with something. 🦇🎃🕸️

If you want to get tagged in future Halloween and Christmas One Shots just let me know in the comments and I'll add you to the tag list! 🤎🍂

this was requested by one of my lovely Wattpad followers!

tag list; @ravennaortiz

word count; about 2.5k

Nola lifted her head as the front door slammed shut and Jax stormed into the kitchen, knowing from the smell of herbs that he would find his Old Lady there. No one but him knew what she was, how special she really wasᅳ and that was a good thing, for her own protection.

He knew that his club would be able to deal with it after they declared him crazy first, and maybe Jax would tell his brothers about Nola's abilities at some pointᅳ but only when his Old Lady was ready. Until then, she continued to secretly help lead the club on the right path, mainly by helping Jax talk to his dead fatherᅳ rarely, after all, it was no longer white magic once you summoned the dead.

But sometimes Jax needed the guidance that only John could give him, as much as he hated using his Old Lady for thatᅳ but Nola was happy to help, in any situation. When someone in the club was injured, she worked in the background to make sure that the healing happened much faster or that something worse could be prevented.

But that wasn't all. Thanks to Nola, Jax had learned to love again, to let warmth back into his cold heart after Tara had run off again two years ago and tried to take his sons away from him. In the end, Tara had agreed to leave the boys with him as long as she could see them both regularly, and finally moved to Oregon to take on her new job.

And when Nola came into his life about six months later, it hit him like a truck. Something about this woman had drawn him in immediately, the shimmer in her greenish eyes so strong that it felt like she could see into his soul, as if she knew exactly what he neededᅳ and shortly afterwards he had found out why.

The fact that she was a witch was a shock at first, but it made no difference. It was her person he loved, for whom he would go over dead bodies. And she would do the same for him, as he'd soon find out.

"What's wrong?" Her voice was sharp, different than usual, as if she knew something bad had happened. "What happened, Jax?"

She took a step closer, tentatively reaching for his wrists as he ran his hands down his face in despair, anger flashing in his glassy eyes. "Tara took the boys. She's gone, Nola, just gone."

He watched as Nola stumbled back, her face twisted in shock as she let the news sink in. One hand flew to her chest, the other used to brace herself against the doorframe, just as broken as he was.

Nola loved the boys as if they were her own and Jax had mentioned often enough that she was more of a mother than Tara ever had. But the doctor still had a right to see the kids because Thomas was her biological son and Jax was stupid enough to sign half of the rights to Abel over to her years ago.

"She took my babies?", she asked through a sob before blind rage overcame her. Her gaze turned cold, her eyes shining dangerously. "Do you have anything from her? It doesn't matter what, even a photo is enough."

"Can such a spell harm the baby?" Jax asked, gently grabbing her hand before casting a worried glance at her not-yet-visible baby bump. "If so, we'll find another way, babe."

"No, it can't. She'll pay for this. She can't just keep coming into our lives and ruining it by taking our babies", Nola seethed, tears of anger at Tara and fear for her children welling up in her eyes. "She'll feel the consequences."

"As much as I want that", Jax began seriously, pulling her flush against him before placing a hand against her cheek. "I don't want you to put yourself and our daughter in danger."

"You don't even know if it's a girl", she murmured quietly, seeking refuge in his arms, her head resting on his chest. "I've been a witch my whole life, Jax. I know what I'm doing, let me help."

"I just have a feeling", he mumbled against her long, raven-black hair before he placed a kiss on the top of her head, gently pushing her away by her arms. "Are you sure about this, darlin'?"

"Yes, absolutely sure", she assured him eagerly. The young woman could never do anything that could harm her own flesh and blood. "And now bring me something from Tara so I can find the bitch."

ᅳ

An hour later, Nola was sitting at the large dining table in the small but perfect house in which Jax and the kids now lived with her, the room dark due to the drawn curtains. Only the light of a few candles illuminated the dining room with soft light.

The words Nola spoke were barely understandable, but Jax still tried to figure out what exactly his Old Lady was saying; to no avail. However, concern rose in him when some blood dripped from her nose and her voice vibrated more strongly. But before he could say anything, his hand already resting on her shoulder, her eyes shot open.

"Done", she purred softly and pointed to the candles in front of her, which was placed right above an old picture of Tara, the only one Jax had found in a box in the garage. Next to it was another candle with a picture of Thomas and Abel. "The candles have to burn until they burn outᅳ don't blow them out. Give me a piece of paper, I'll write down the address of the motel."

"Why, if you've already found her?" Jax asked, standing up and coming back with a piece of paper, a pen and a tissue. "Why is your nose bleeding, Nola? I told youᅳ"

"I'm fine, baby", Nola hummed, placing a hand against his arm before taking the things with a soft 'thank you'. Only when the address was written on paper did she wipe the blood from her nose. "I want to come with you, and before you say noᅳ"

This time Jax interrupted her with a gentle kiss, caressing her cheek as he slid the note into his pocket. "We'll do this together, babe, you and me."

Nola smiled gratefully. "Then let's go, I wanna look her in the eyes again before it's too late."

"Wait, what do you mean by that?" Jax' chair slid across the floor with a squeak as he stood up after Nola, who was covering the candles with special glasses so nothing could happen. "What did you do?"

"I told you she would feel it", she shrugged nonchalantly, grabbed his hand and dragged him outside. "Come on, I want my babies back."

"Maybe I should stop asking questions", Jax muttered under his breath before they hurried to her SUV so as not to waste any more time.

ᅳ

While Jax and Nola were on their way to the motel just a few miles outside of Charming, Tara was thinking of a plan to hide with the kids until she suddenly felt a scratchy pain in her throat that was getting stronger by the second.

On her way to the bathroom to get a glass of water, she was overcome by a coughing fit. Everything in her chest tightened, taking away her ability to breathe. Panic rose in her as she was unable to stop the coughing. She brought a hand to her mouth as she gasped for air, her eyes growing as she noticed the blood in her palm.

"What theᅳ", she couldn't say more, the words just a broken croak.

A sharp pain shot through her chest, sending her to the floor in panic. Trying to sit on her knees, her upper body arched in pain. The doctor began to gag until blood gushed out of her mouth like a waterfall.

The liquid seeped into the floor, staining the beige carpet a crimson red. Her panicked gaze fell on the boys, who had both fallen asleep at the same time about twenty minutes ago, and nothing seemed to wake them upᅳ  and Tara wasn't exactly quiet.

It was weird, but the boys' chests were rising and falling at regular intervals, so they had to be okay.

Tara crawled across the floor to get to her bag, and again she threw up blood, this time it even gushed out of her nose, causing her to roll onto her back and clutch her throat hastily, out of pure reflex.

With each long cough, blood spurted upwards, covering her face. This was her end, she could feel it. If she didn't get to the hospital within a few minutes, she would dieᅳ that much was certain.

Tara jerked her head to the side as the door swung open, her eyes nearly popping out of their sockets as Nola and Jax stormed into the room, the latter closing the door behind him.

"You bitch!" It was Nola who approached Tara first, kicking the doctor in the ribs, not surprised at the sightᅳ after all, she was responsible for it. "Did you really think you could take my kids?", the woman let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head as she slowly crouched down and brushed a few strands of Tara's short hair out of her face, smiling as the woman twitched and whimpered under her touch. "How are you feeling? You made quite a mess here."

"Babe, what is this?" Jax looked at the two women, not quite sure what he was staring at exactly.

He didn't care about Tara, but he didn't want Nola to have to take such steps just because his life was pure chaos. "I don't want you to kill anyone for me."

"Baby, I really love you", Nola began with a deep sigh, looking up at her fiancé. "But it's not always all about you. The bitch took our kids and kept trying to ruin our livesᅳ I've had enough."

Lifting an eyebrow, Jax was at a loss for words, not sure what to say, but his chest still filled with pure pride. His Old Lady could be a bitch, a protective one, and that was hot as hell.

"Alright, do what makes you happy, darlin'", he said, lifting his hands before he stopped behind her and crossed his arms over his chest. "But what about the boys? I don't want them to see this."

"Don't worry, they'll sleep until we blow out the candles", she reassured him, frowning. "Do you really think I would've risked our kids seeing that? You should know me better, handsome."

Jax rubbed his neck sheepishly, giving her an apologetic smile. "Sorry babe, that's not what I meant."

When Tara reached for help and grabbed Nola's wrist, Nola pulled her arm back in disgust, her eyes darkening. "I could make this stop", she said with a sweet smile, making Tara nod frantically. "On one condition.."

Nola closed her eyes, hummed a few words to herself and tapped Tara's forehead with the tip of her index finger for a few seconds, making Tara's coughing fit stop immediately.

Tara rolled onto her stomach as panicked sobs left her throat, tears streaming down her pale face. Only when she realized what had just happened did she sit down on her butt and slid as far away from Nola as possible, her features twisted in shock.

"Oh, so now you're scared?" Jax sneered angrily, his steps heavy as he slowly walked towards Tara and crouched down in front of her, Nola right next to him. "What do we learn from this?"

"Iᅳ I'm sorry", Tara choked out, bursting into tears as she pulled her legs against her trembling body. "Please..please don't hurt me!"

"Aww, she's even begging!" Nola snorted a laugh, her face only inches away from Tara's. "Here's what's going to happen. You go back to Oregon, never set foot in Charming again, and never think or talk of us again. If you try anyway, well..",

Nola sighed theatrically, almost as if she was enjoying the idea of hurting the doctor again. "Then next time I'll let you choke miserably on your own bloodᅳ and I'll watch with a smile on my face."

Tara's bitter sobs bounced off the walls, both of her hands covering her mouth to muffle the volume. "Wᅳ what are you?"

"None of your damn business", Jax snarled, his gaze murderously intense as his blue lenses dug into Tara's skull. "Did you hear what Nola said? Are you goin' to listen to her?"

"Yes, yes for God's sake! But please, please let me go", she pleaded, the sight almost heartbreaking if only someone would care about her.

Nola smiled contentedly, pushing herself to her feet. "Okay, then we're done here! Have a nice life, bitch."

While Nola turned around and threw her black hair over her shoulders so she could pick one of their sleeping sons up, Jax glared at Tara again, his gaze nothing but a threat.

"Don't say a word to anyone or you'll wish you never messed with us, Tara",  Jax said, more serious than ever before, his voice was dangerously calm, before he spat at Tara's feet and then picked up Abel before he left the motel room with his family.

ᅳ

Moaning Jax's name, Nola threw her head back, her hands placed on his chest as she moved her hips in circles, his cock buried all the way inside her slick folds.

They had both needed a break after that day, and after spending the evening with their children, they had retreated to the bedroom and wasted no time in ripping off their clothes.

"That's it, darlin', keep goin'", Jax urged with a groan slipping from his lips, slapping her ass as he pushed his hips up, helping her out a little.

He felt his climax building, so he brought a hand to Nola's full breasts, kneading one in his palm as he rolled her nipple between his fingers, knowing that Nola never lasted long when her breasts got touchedᅳ this was one way to make her come, always.

"Fuck Jax", the woman on top of him gasped, locking eyes with him, returning Jax' grin, savouring every second as she rode him. "I'm close, baby", she drawled sultry, another moan falling from her plump, dark-red lips.

"Good, let go for me", he demanded encouragingly, licking his lips as his own breathing quickened and his cock twitched inside her. "Wanna feel you cum on my cock, sweetheart."

And that was it. Something in Nola's lower abdomen snapped and a moment later she climaxed, moaning his name loudly as she squirted all over him after Jax rolled and pinched her nipple between his fingers again, a gush of fluids now covering his pubes, her long nails leaving bloody welts on his chest.

"Fuck babe", he panted, his voice deep and hoarse as he slid his hand to the back of Nola's neck to pull her head down, his lips brushing hers.

"I love it when you do that", Jax croaked against her lips, an excited whimper falling from them before he pulled her into a sloppy kiss, chasing his own climax.

Nola moaned into the kiss as thick ropes of cum filled her, the warm, thick liquid warming her walls even more. She was already pregnant, so what else could happen?

As she collapsed onto his chest, her breath coming in quick, ragged gasps, she closed her eyes and sighed softly as Jax ran his long fingers through her raven-black strands.

"I love you, Nola, I hope you know that", he murmured, the weariness slowly becoming audible in his tone as the day took its toll. "Thank you for todayᅳ for getting out boys back."

"I know, don't worryᅳ and I love you, too, more than you know", she hummed, not doubting his words. The advantage of being a witch was that she could tell when someone was being honest or not.

Nola slowly lifted her head, leaving a kiss on his lips. "I think there's nothing I wouldn't do for you and our childrenᅳ and I mean that."

Jax smiled weakly, rubbing his thumb against her cheekbone after she rolled off him, laying down next to him. "Good, because I'd do anything for you too, darlin'."

"I know, handsome", Nola smiled again as she laid her head back on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat soothing.

When Jax placed his hand on her bump, like he did every night since they had found out that she was pregnant, their eyelids fluttered shut, both falling into a deep sleep after a few minutes after the eventful day.

[gyjo-enthusiast]

special case. ch.1

retired!nanami x younger!sorcerer!reader

summary: during field training, each student is assigned one semi-grade 1 or higher ranked sorcerer. after the last student is left without a mentor, her professor pairs her up with his old, retired grumpy friend.

reader is in their 20s (attending college), afab!reader, fem pronouns

tags: fluff, eventual smut, colleagues with benefits (is that a thing?), age gap (reader in early 20s, nanami in mid 30s), virgin reader

next chapter: special case. ch.2

jujutsu kaisen masterlist | masterlist

chapter summary: when being assigned your mentors to the week long field training, your teacher finds out there are no more sorcerers free to help, so he calls an old friend.

proofread: yes

word count: 874 (3m 30s)

song rec:

field training, this was your lucky break. no more sitting in classroom, being lectured about stuff you wouldn’t even use in a real fight.

you were pumped, thrilled even, when you heard about a week long getaway from your boring class. and of course you couldn’t wait for this moment.

your teacher was assigning each student their mentor, everyone ecstasic that they’ll learn tons of stuff from high ranked sorcerers.

“and finally y/n.. excuse me for a moment,” his voice sounded unsure as he bickered with his assistant and at last pulled out his phone. disappearing from the doorframe of your class as he let the phone ring by his ear, he mouthed out “one minute” to your direction.

"nanami, please, we have one student left for this project. teach her on field for just one week, you know we're short on skilled sorcerers,” he whispered in the school hall, careful not to let anybody hear.

if anybody from your class heard, they were sure to complain as to why you were getting the exclusive treatment. a legendary grade 1 sorcerer to guide you for a whole week was sure to rile up some arguments among the students.

the blonde sighed on the other side of the line. "so i'm going to be stuck with some brat for a whole week?" he paused for a moment before continuing, “you can’t be serious gojo, can’t you take her?”

“nanami, please,” gojo grunted, visibly annoyed. “i hope you’re not forgetting how busy it is being a sorcerer. not a retired one,” he snickered.

after a few seconds of silence, your teacher quickly blurted out “thanks you’re the best! make sure you’re by the usual station at 8:30, byeee.”

on the other side of the town, nanami sighed once again, mentally preparing himself for the upcoming week as well as cursing gojo for being such a snake.

when professor gojo returned to the class, all of the students were already chatting about their appointed mentors. all but one, the exception being, of course, you. the blindfolded man motioned for you to come forth and took you outside, just where he had been speaking with his friend a minute ago.

“y/n, small issue. all of the current grade 1 and semi-grade 1 sorcerers are busy with their own missions, so you’re unfortunately going to be the special case,” he smiled at you gently, reassuring you that it’s still going to be okay.

“what.. do you mean?” obviously confused, you couldn’t help but ask before he could explain.

“you have to keep quiet about this, but the former grade 1 sorcerer nanami kento will help you with field missions this week,” he clarified.

“but isn’t he-“

“retired?” your professor cut you off before you could continue, “yes, that’s why you have to keep quiet,” he put a hand on your shoulder to keep you calm. “don’t worry about it, we’re good friends and i’ve explained the situation to him clear as day.”

‘clear as day’ yeah you can imagine that, with the way your professor explains things, nanami will probably be as confused as you are, if not more.

but with that in mind, you slowly nod and promise that you will keep this a secret and won’t go out of your way to attract any attention when out in the open with nanami. you thank gojo once more for getting you a mentor and you make a mental note to thank nanami thoroughly.

the ride to the designated station of meeting with nanami was calm. it went by quick as you watched people pass by, ignorant to the true horrors of this world. you were at your stop before you could think twice about it, and now you were in search of the blonde sorcerer.

you remember the description that gojo gave you: tall, blonde, in a white suit. you honestly don't even know why he gave you a description for one of the best and most recognisable sorcerers of your time, but it was better than not finding him at all.

as your eyes were searching the crowd of heads going to and from the train station just a few dozen meters by, you spotted someone who matched gojo's words exactly.

there he was, tall, blonde, in a white suit. and handsome, how could you forget. you slowly approached him, as he checked the watch on his wrist.

"good morning! i'm the semi-grade 2 sorcerer y/n that's been assigned to you!" you cheerfully greeted him, hoping to lift his spirits at least by a little bit. being dragged out of retirement just to help another student must be the last thing he wanted.

the blonde adjusted his darkened glasses as he silently watched you.

"you're 4 minutes late," he finally spoke.

"i'm sorry, sir. the bus got held up in the traffic," you excused yourself, at least wanting him to know that you took the bus on time. "where are we heading?" trying to keep positive, you smiled at him.

"there's a semi-grade 1 curse i saw on the way here, let's see what you can do," not wanting to waste any more time, you both started making your way to your destination.

[ninjago-oc-appreciation]

Ninjago Oc Secret Summer 2024!

What is a Secret Summer? - It's basically a Secret Santa (A secret gift giving event) but in Summertime/Not-December instead! - For this event, you'll be secretly assigned someone to draw/write a gift for based around their oc(s) - It's very important that no one knows that you are making them a gift and vice versa, that you don't know who is making you a gift!

Are there any rules?

- Absolutely no N/S/F/W or Suggestive content is permitted for prompts, gifts, or references. This is /not/ an 18+ event.

- No direct contact with the person you're making a gift for; you can communicate through me or someone helping run the event, or ask through anon on tumblr if you can.

- No AI art/writing, Gacha edits, face claims, picrews, or bases will be permitted for oc reference submissions or gifts.

- Oc x Canon and Oc x Oc ships are 100% allowed.

- Fankids, sonas, and self inserts are also allowed; my only rule is that fankids of Lloyd x Canon ships are not permitted.

- Please respect requests regarding holiday or seasonal preferences when making a gift. Don't depict an oc participating in a holiday or seasonal activity that the creator asked not be depicted. - For the art portion, you must draw the character(s) you were assigned and they must be visible (feel free to ask for clarification).

How many ocs can be submitted total? - Three ocs can be submitted but only one is required.

What will I need for sign ups? - Refs or art that show a clear, colored depiction of your oc - OR at least two pieces of writing for said oc (does not need to be a whole fic. Could easily just be a quick blurb showing how they're written as a character) - Basic Information/Fun Facts about your character. This can be background information, relationships, likes/dislikes, age and height, personality, etc. - Suggestions or prompts for your gift giver. Stuff to help get their brain going. - Your blog name (not the name you go by but the url name. Like @/Ninjago-Oc-Appreciation, for example. Make sure it's a tumblr url, and not from any other social media).

What's the General Timeline for this event? - Sign ups will be rolling out April 14th and will remain open until the 21st. Requests can be made for small extensions if needed. - Assignments will be made sometime after the sign up forms close; posting week will begin late June (exact date to be announced with sign ups) - There will be exactly one week designated as a late period at the start of July.

How do I sign up? - In April, I'll post a google document where you can submit your ocs! There will be one for writing and one for art! - Please reach out to me after signing up in some way. This can be through messages, asks, comments, etc. In the past we've had issues with the forms, where they'd "eat' a submission, and I'd like to know when to check to make sure this doesn't happen again.

Event Tags

- We'll be using #NOSS2024, #NinjagoOcSecretSummer2024, and #SecretNinja2024 as tags for this event!

That's all! If you have any questions feel free to let me know, I tried to cover everything but I may have missed something!

Feel free to reblog this post and share with people who might be interested!

[ask-jean-darc]

Bonjour.

Napoleon: "Mozart! You are a terrible teacher! You have to be encouraging. I teach the children in town—let me help him."

Arthur: "Now hold on, mate. If we’re talking about who’s most qualified, it’s clearly me. Who better than a proper British author to teach him how to write?"

Dazai: "Oh? And what of me, Arthur-kun? I’m a writer too, you know. My works are considered masterpieces."

Arthur: "Masterpieces? That’s generous. Your writing’s all over the place, mate. Admit it."

Dazai: (gasps dramatically, clutching his chest) "Oh, Arthur-kun, how cruel! Do you not see the layers of my genius?!"

Arthur: "Layers? You’re like an onion—makes everyone cry and smells funny."

(The arguing grows louder.)

Leonardo: "Relax, everyone. Let’s not overwhelm him. Jean, just write whatever comes to mind. No pressure, alright?"

Dazai: "Jean, you should make it poetic! Add a touch of tragedy."

Mozart: (sighs loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose) "The real tragedy is that I have to listen to this."

Napoleon: "Poetry? He should learn to write properly first. Start with full sentences."

Arthur: "Jean, throw in a bit of wit, mate. Nothing like a good joke to liven things up. Don’t you agree, Theo?"

Theo: (shrugging) "Don’t involve me in this. It doesn’t matter to me. Let him write however he wants."

Vincent: (encouragingly) "Jean, write what feels natural to you. Express your heart—it’s the most important thing."

Theo: "Of course! That’s brilliant advice, Vincent. Only you could suggest something so meaningful. Everyone else, stop distracting him!"

Dazai: (leans toward Theo with a sly grin) "Are you tearing up? Truly, Vincent has moved you."

Theo: "Shut it, or I’ll move you—right out the window.

Arthur: "Give it a tick, and he’ll show himself out the window, no need to help."

Comte: "Gentlemen, please. Let Jean decide how he wishes to write. This is his practice, not a circus. Perhaps you should all leave, and I will help him."

Isaac: "Actually, Jean...you should consider keeping it simple. Structure is important—Napoleon might have a point."

(Sebastian walks in with a tea tray, calmly setting it down.)

Sebastian: "Or we could just let Jean practice without turning it into a philosophy debate."

Shakespeare (dramatic as ever): "Ah, the grievous toil of the quill! Let thy hand pour forth the tempest of thy soul, and may thy words strike like thunder upon the page!"

Theo: “You realize no one understands a word you say, don’t you?”

Shakespeare: "Ah, but tis not my tongue that fails thee, good sir; 'tis thine own wit that falters in its grasp!"

Theo: "Right. And yet somehow, I’m the one still making sense. Fancy that."

Vincent: “Such good emotional expression, Jean!” 

Arthur: "Well said, mate. There’s your first proper sentence spoken with some fire!"

Dazai: "Truly, a masterpiece of brevity!" 

Vincent: "See? You’re already improving." 

Mozart: (mutters under his breath) "The bar is on the floor."

Arthur: "Right, this calls for a toast! I’ll fetch the good stuff. Well, the decent stuff—I wouldn’t waste the really good stuff on Mozzie."

Comte: “Yes, a toast to new beginnings.”

Jean: (visibly exhausted) “Can you perhaps do that...somewhere besides my bedroom?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My Admin and I made some rules. Please read them and respect them.

There are tags.

Ask box is open, please ask me your questions. It will help my practice my writing.

At the moment I don’t intend to reveal my main blog here. For anyone who knows the admin behind this blog, please don’t reveal it, thank you!

[pillow-anime-talk]

HIII I HOPE YOU'RE DOING WELL

may i please request prompt 49 and 51 for William James Moriarty from mtp?

Like the reader is as smart as william and helps him with his plans and stuff and they both fall for each other but can't be together?

Thank you, have a great day!!

# tags: scenario; kinda lovers/enemies; unrequited love; light romance; mostly drama; also angst; reader as police inspector; mention of murder and blood; nsfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. william james moriarty {mtp}

author’s note: long time no see. sorry for that but thank you sm for your request; due to the rules i only chose the one number you asked for :) i hope you like it, love u all

49. “I told you this is how it ends.”

You looked with visible regret at the figure sitting across from you, on an uncomfortable chair in a cramped room lit by dim white light. Next to you stood your friend and co-worker, who is a five years older than you, and opposite your person, with a calm expression on his face, sat William, who just a few days ago was drinking tea with lemon with you, and today he was accused of murder. And with particular cruelty.

The young man, however, didn’t reveal anything; no sadness, no bitterness, his eyes showed no positive or negative emotion. Just plain emptiness, interspersed with the flash of a lamp above the three of you.

“What made you kill Sandy Moriarty, née Lonewood?” Asked a young policeman, also a profiler by profession. “She was your sister-in-law after all.” Your eyelid twitched with slight sadness. Sandy was Louis’ partner; they had been together for over two years. You even had the opportunity to meet her – she had foxy hair and calm eyes, and she was a talented painter. “Moriarty answer to me.” The uniformed man’s voice was low and firm. Unlike your expression: soft, full of despair.

“… Well. I had my own reasons, sir.”

“What reasons?”

“It’s all my business, sir.” Your co-worker just sighed, looking at the accused with a disbelieving expression. His nose wrinkled and the whiskers beneath it twitched slightly.

“Y/N, I’ll be right back. I’ll go get some papers and things. Keep an eye on him.” You only nodded at his words, never taking William out of your sight. His long blond hair fell unruly over his forehead and his chest slowly moved back and forth.

As soon as Alois left the small room, devoid of furniture and color, your hands trembled slightly and your eyes turned to the right wall.

“Who are you protecting, William? Tell me.”

“… For your safety, let it go. It’s not a matter of solving the mystery of who stole the little child’s candy and why. Just accept it all that it just had to be like that and let it go.”

“Why?” You repeated in a slightly more confident voice, and your eyes met the ruby ones.

“I told you this is how it ends.” He whispered. “I’m not from your world, Y/N. And I never will be. You wanted to protect me, I appreciate that, but it won’t always go your way. We’re too different.” He added, and after a while the door to the room let in a bit more cold and light. Your work partner stopped next to you again and threw a few photos and descriptions from the scene on the gray table, pursing his lips at the same time.

The photographs showed the silhouette of a woman in a beautiful yellow dress, with a large smear of scarlet blood and several bullets around her.

Whatever your intentions were, you certainly wouldn’t be able to help William anymore, who in your eyes at that moment was just a murderer hiding behind a mask of a calm smile and pale skin. Although your heart was obviously burning like a hot coal, you couldn’t do anything more than look at the photos and move one of them closer to the blonde male.

[copperbadge]

Hello, hello, could you please say more about how you use Microsoft OneNote in your professional life? I need all the help I can get to stay organized & on top of things, so I would love to know.

Sure! I use it less than previous because there's less randomized stuff I need to do now, so I don't need such robust management, but I can talk about how my use began/evolved. I started using OneNote because it was less finicky than Word but still had an autosave function and basic formatting, so it was useful for initial drafts of documents, taking notes on meetings, and keeping track of information I needed at my fingertips frequently.

OneNote's largest "unit" is the Notebook. You can have multiple Notebooks but I've never bothered; still I can see how if your screen was public a lot, you'd want to put some things in a separate Notebook. The Notebook then breaks down into Sections which look like tabs, which I would assign to broad things like "Meeting Notes", "Assignments", "Templates", "Personal" and "Excel Hacks". Sections break down further into "Pages"; each page is a document stuck into place, which you can title so that you can have a list of "pages" on the sidebar and find the one you want easily. Text in Pages can be formatted to some degree, and if you copypaste from websites, it'll tag on the URL of the site you pasted from, although you can also turn that off if you want. You can drag and drop Pages from one Section to another pretty easily.

So, for example, I'd have a "Meeting Notes" Section, and when I clicked the tab for that section I'd have a list of Pages, each of which was notes from a meeting I'd attended. Every time I went into a meeting I just made a new page, gave it a meeting title and date, and took notes on the meeting into the page window. The "Meeting Notes" Section thus became a fully searchable record of meetings I'd attended and what was said. When meeting notes were no longer relevant I'd drag them to an archival Section to retire in peace.

Here's an example of my Excel section:

You can see "My Notebook" up in the left top corner, my current Sections as tabs at the top, and the pages list on the left (I think more modern OneNote skins put the pages on the right, I moved mine back). Each line on the left is a separate "page" that tells me how to do something in Excel, something I need to do a lot but can't commit to memory (or couldn't but now have, it's a trifle out of date). So we're in My Notebook, section Excel, page Formatting Stripes, and on the right you can see how to format an Excel sheet so that it has alternating colored rows (there are other ways to do this but this way the stripes always stay alternating no matter what moves where). In theory I could dump all this stuff into one Page and call it "Excel" and put it somewhere else, but I liked having an easily-visible list so I don't have to scroll a single document to find what I want.

There aren't nearly as many tab/sections as there used to be; "Assignments" covers "all work that is not excel formulas" and includes stuff like instructions for how to pull a query in our database, a list of what everyone does at our company, a yearly guide to our events program, a few other things. I don't have a "Personal" section any more but I do have 2-3 pages in the Assignments section that are personal notes.

There's no inbuilt tagging function but because the entire notebook is searchable, if you're really into tagging you can simply add keywords to the top or bottom of a page.

I have OneNote pinned to my taskbar in Windows, and it's basically always open but it autosaves, so adding stuff is super simple; if I find a bug in our database or a quirk I want to remember I just click over to OneNote and add it to the database file, or similar.

I don't use it on my phone or tablet, because if I'm at work I have access to my laptop generally, but OneNote does sync across devices as long as you're logged in, so if you have OneNote and a Microsoft login you should be able to access it in multiple places.

[tswaney17]

elriel x mistletoe kissing but it's a human tradition and azriel doesn't understand it

Hello lovely!! Thank you for sending me this cute prompt! 🎄💕 I wrote a little something and posted it on AO3. Link is below. 💗

Under the Mistletoe

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​​​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Please let me know what you think about this update. I love getting your feedback. Constructive criticism is always welcome. 💕

Trigger warnings: minor language. Mostly tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 850

Read on AO3. Snippet beneath the cut.

Azriel leaned a hip against the wall as he sipped from his glass of amber liquid. It was the good stuff—it always was the good stuff during the holidays. Rhys made sure of it.

His family had scattered throughout the sitting room, watching a toddler-sized Nyx play with all the new toys he received. His happy squeals and sweet giggles kept the adult’s attention enough for him to sneak into one of the darkened alcoves just to observe the others. And for some peace and quiet. Azriel loved his family, he really did. But they were a loud, rowdy group, of which he was not.

The only person who noticed his absence from the sitting room was the one he was hoping would seek him out. She always seemed to catch him trying to sneak away. It was one of many things they had in common.

“Hiding out?” Elain said quietly, pink lips quirking up.

Azriel slid his gaze over her body, taking in the amethyst-colored gown she wore. Her golden-brown hair glowed like a summer dawn in the gilded fae lights. She was gorgeous. He told her as much, earning a bashful smile in return.

Read More

~~~~~

Remember, sharing is caring! Please reblog if you liked the fic. It helps spread my work and I truly appreciate it. 💕

While I have moved these fics to AO3 only, I am still going to utilize a tag list here on Tumblr. This as a permanent solution and may change in the future. For notifications, you can follow and subscribe to my fanfic account where I will be reblogging updates and snippets only. You can also find me on ao3. If you would like to be added to my tag list, please leave a comment on this post.

My fanfic account: @tswaney17fics​

My ao3 account: tswaney17

Taglist: 

@nikethestatue

@reverie-tales

@123moiaussi

@duskwhisperer

@zdenkah

@nyxreads

@shedoessoshedoes

@athena-85

@jasmineandshadows

@nightcourtseer

@nivem565

@debramclaren

@illyrianvalkyriecarynthian

@secretpuppyflower

@justreallybored

@ultadverb

@the-regal-warrior

@roseandshadows

@tcursebreaker

@kingravinger

@mis-lil-red

@eloeloeheheh

@fawnandshadows

@swankii-art-teacher

@miss-bee-cat

@bookhhrelaz

@impossiblescissorspeachpaper

@elrielbaby

@lesolehabitantdelalune

@thoughtsaboutshows

@britishwings

@aelin21galathynius

@saz-griffin

@azrielslight

@bookstaninthesoul

@curiositywoman

@karsyn-b2

@elainsweetcobalt

@emilyondemand

Some tags seem to not want to link, which could be related to your visibility settings. Sorry about that!

[i-just-want-tobe-thin]

hey if you post on an 3d blog can you please take a second to read this?

I see a lot of people relogging meansp0 and stuff and saying "this isn't for you guys it's just for me so I have it on my blog" and i realized that maybe a lot of people don't know about this tumblr feature. even if you don't reblog that kind of stuff could you please signal boost this so the right people can find this information out?

when you're typing a post or relogging, right by the blue post button are 3 dots. the 5th one down is "post privately" and then it will still be visible on your end on your blog, and you can search up a hashtag or word that you put in the post and the post will come up.

since I don't think spreading meansp0 is a good thing, but it still helps me, when I see a meansp0 post I like, i post it privately with a specific tag or phrase. then when I feel like i need some, i can search my page and they'll all come up.

i really think more people need to know this. especially because I can tell by the words used in the reblogs that the user feels really bad about spreading it to their followers, but they feel like they have to in order to have access to it. and if you've never felt bad about reblogging meansp0, maybe you should consider doing it this way instead so it's not being harmfully spread?

obviously anyone can run their blog how they like! but I think this is important information that should be more widespread. if you can reblog this, maybe with a bunch of a4a tags, so that more people can find this out, that'd be great. I wish everyone well <3

[xihe1874]

Hello everyone!!! I know it's been quite a while (who am I kidding it's been a year or so). But here I am, posting stupid nothing about these stupid lover boys again.

This is a Harry Potter crossover, but you don't have to have read Harry Potter to understand this.

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you like this, please let me know as this author lives for comments and likes <3

Wish you all the best <3

================================================

Relationship: Iceman/Maverick

Tags: Fluff, Humor, Mutual Pining, Angst, but just a little bit, because they are both idiots, Idiots in love, Happy Ending, Love Confessions, Mildly Dubious Consent, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Alternative Universe - Magic, Love Potion/Spell, Truth Serum, Actually the tags are spoil alerts, Not actually unrequited love, Requited love, First kiss, Falling in love

Word count: 3534

================================================

"Goose, you sure it's the real thing? Why does it look so weird?"

Pete shook the vial and regarded the liquid in it with a suspicious face. Even if it was just a prank, he — the youngest Seeker Gryffindor had ever seen in history who had terrified so many enemies both on the oval pitch and in love — needed to ensure that it was the best prank of this century. Using some fake stuff? Totally unacceptable.

"Of course." Nick nodded, holding a book as thick as a brick. "Absolutely. Transparent, colorless, bubbling. Exactly the same as written in the book. Besides, it was from Carole's third aunt's second cousin who has connections in the Knockturn Alley. So if you doubt this potion, you will be doubting Carole."

There seemed to be something wrong with the logic. But Pete was not gonna argue with his best friend.

"But I thought it would be a bit… fancier? Like, I don't know, pink? After all, it's…"

"Love Potion, I know. But love is just like this, Mav." Nick sighed sagely. "When love approaches, there is not necessarily any obvious sign. You won't be noticing anything. But when it strikes, it's arresting, overwhelming. Like the peace before a storm."

Pete couldn't help but howl with laughter. He shook his head, massaging the aching stomach. "Such a poet, huh, Goose? How many Carole's Muggle fics have you read?"

With great amusement, he watched a blush climb its way into Nick's cheeks, and the taller wizard began to stammer out a feeble denial. 

"All right, all right. Like you could have me fooled by that. But it's not bad, considering that we will add it to water. Less likely for them to notice."

Nick was visibly relieved. He put the book down and summoned the cup they prepared.

"Carole told me that the Love Potion is custom-made, and it will not push whoever drinks this to fall in love with us. Rather, it will let them love a random somebody. The effect lasts for one day."

Pete smirked with mischief. "What a pity. I'd rather be loved by some dumbass Prefect, and then dump them. Must be delicious."

Something unreadable flickered across Nick's face. He opened his mouth, then decided against it. Just as Pete was about to ask whether his friend was hiding something from him, Nick took the vial from his hand and opened the cork.

Instinctively, Pete inhaled.

A strange feeling spread from the tip of his nose, like a long winter that was finally clearing up, with warm sunlight gradually seeping into his blood. He felt his heartbeat suddenly quicken as if it were trying to break free from its restraints and reveal all the secrets he had hidden away. Pete felt like he was dreaming. He wanted to wake up but knew he would rather give up everything—except Quidditch, maybe—than let this dream end.

He felt both excited and scared.

The air was filled with... the unique pine fragrance of a brand-new Firebolt, the sweetness of chocolate cookies, and another scent, not overpowering, but it instantly captured all of Pete's attention.

Mint.

It was a faint minty smell similar to a Muggle snack called chewing gum.

He knew this snack because there was someone who loved it. The said person was always chewing it, a habit that could be annoying, but the minty scent around him was actually pleasant. So every time Pete saw him, he couldn't help but lean closer—though most of the time it was to tease and counter-tease. Each time he passed by him on the Quidditch pitch, catching a glimpse of the other's sweaty blonde hair and rosy cheeks from the corner of his eye, Pete couldn't help but close his eyes and take a deep breath, unable to resist imagining whether the man's kiss would also be...

"What did you smell, Mav?"

Pete was snapped back to reality.

"Uh, well…" His voice was a bit hoarse. "Just, Firebolt."

Nick frowned at him with disbelief written all over his face. Pete knew his own face must be flushed, but he stubbornly stared at his friend, refusing to back down.

Fortunately, Nick was just as clueless about the Patronus charm as Pete was. Otherwise, he would discover Pete's extremely awkward crush.

A crush on the biggest rival of Gryffindor in Quidditch.

A crush on the Ravenclaw prefect, the Quidditch captain, and the Straight-A student—someone who should have been Pete's sworn enemy.

The crush on Tom Kazansky. 

Pete cleared his throat, grabbed the potion, and added two drops to the cup in front of him, trying very hard not to let his hands shake too noticeably. "We need to hurry, Goose, only a few minutes left."

That was true, though. Only five minutes later, the Prefect's meeting would start, as the time announced on the bulletin board, and they still had to sneak back to the secret room behind their dormitory.

Nick shrugged and let it pass. But Pete knew he would eventually ask about the love potion again.

He'd deal with it later, Pete thought. 

That was his life motto anyway.

Five minutes later, Pete stood in the empty common room, starting to doubt his entire life.

"Where is everyone?"

Nick shook his head, indicating he didn't know either.

"Then what was the point of all this preparation?"

"Preparation for what, Maverick?"

Great. Just fantastic. It seemed that fate had decided to make things harder for him, as Kazansky chose this moment to walk into the common room.

Pete cursed under his breath and slowly turned around.

Fuck. He shouldn't have done that.

Kazansky had just finished a round of Quidditch practice, it seemed, as he was still in his sweaty suit that clung to him. A few beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, sliding down beside his perfect lips and along his perfect cheek. His face was slightly flushed, probably from the exercise, and his breathing was a bit heavy.

Pete had to clench his fists to prevent himself from doing something stupid (like reaching out to touch Kazansky's hair, as he had been wondering if it was soft).

Kazansky took a step closer, tilting his head. The mint scent surrounding him made Pete a bit dizzy.

"What the heck are you up to this time?" he asked, leaning in further, fixing his gaze on Pete.

Pete would retort back, he really would, but that would have to wait until something meaningful solidified in his brain. For now, he could only stare into those icy blue eyes, desperately praying that his gaze wouldn't drift down to Kazansky's lips (or that he wouldn't be caught if it did).

The suspicious and slightly annoyed prefect mode somehow made Kazansky look even more attractive, which was unreasonable.

"We… got you some water!"

Both of them jumped at Nick's cheerful voice. Pete turned to see Nick holding up a cup of water.

Holding up that cup of water.

No.

He was about to speak when Kazansky interjected, "I don't believe that you guys would be so kind…"

Pete nodded vigorously toward Kazansky, at the same time trying to signal to Nick with his eyes that they were not gonna do this.

"Yes, that's right. Don't trust it, Iceman."

He wasn't ready to face Kazansky, who had taken the love potion and fallen in love with a stranger, even if it was just for a day, even if it was all fake. Whenever he tried to imagine Kazansky tenderly looking at someone who had a blurred face, smiling at that person, slender fingers holding the other's wrist, then slowly, slowly moving closer, gently giving the other a mint-flavored kiss, Pete felt his heart tightened suddenly as if he had just eaten the most bitter Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Bean.

"...But seeing you agreeing with my point of view makes me doubt again."

DAMN.

"It seems like your plan is to not let me drink this cup of water."

It's not. Not at all.

"Then I'm definitely going to drink it."

Seriously, how did Kazansky get into Ravenclaw with this only brain cell?

In slow motion, Pete watched Kazansky reaching for the cup.

He quickly raised his wand, intending to knock Kazansky unconscious, but the other easily deflected his attack, swiftly dodging to the side.

"Really, Maverick, Stupefy? Just for this glass of water?"

After speaking, Kazansky raised the glass and drank it in one gulp.

Pete stood dumbfounded, unable to speak or move. Kazansky licked his lips with his tongue, and put down the empty cup.

"Sweet, tastes like butterbeer. Wait, now it's kind of... like... like..."

Kazansky furrowed his brow, his gaze searching the room, then settling on Pete. Pete watched as the clarity in those blue eyes gradually faded, replaced by a strange, dazed determination.

"Pete."

Kazansky pronounced his name softly, as if it's a prayer, as if in murmured whispers, as if this name meant more to him than the whole world, as if this name was the only thing he wanted, as if...

As if it belonged to his lover.

No.

No!

Nonononono.

Pete took a step back, then another. He turned towards the wall to escape, but Kazansky strode over, grabbing his wrist with a searing warmth that clutched his pulse.

"Pete, don't go, I have something to say..."

"I don't wanna hear it."

"You... you don't want to hear it?..."

Pete froze, even though the blonde had already let go of him.

Kazansky sounded... soft. Cautious. Quite unsure.

Very sad.

Pete squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He knew he would regret this, but he didn't want to hurt Kazansky, even if it meant his own heart would shatter into a million pieces.

And this might be his only chance to feel what it's like to be loved by Kazansky, said the part of Pete's heart that was accustomed to self-deprecation.

He took a deep breath and turned around.

—And then forgot how to breathe.

While he was steeling himself for the inevitable, Kazansky had moved a few steps closer, trapping Pete between his strong body and the wall. Now there was only a breath's distance between them. Pete could feel the hot breath of the other brushing his cheek, making him shudder involuntarily. He had to lift his head to gaze into the eyes that had occupied countless of his dreams, eyes that were now looking back at him with endless affection.

Kazansky leaned down, his lips close to his ear.

"I remember you said you didn't want to hear it?"

Pete bit his lower lip to keep himself from making any embarrassing sound.

"So, you want to hear it now?"

Their bodies pressed tightly against each other. Pete felt the other's warmth, the scent of mint around them so heady that it clouded his thoughts.

He nodded.

Kazansky looked into his eyes and grinned broadly.

This was the first time Pete had seen him like this. Kazansky radiated pure joy, flashing his white teeth at him. There were small lines at the corners of his eyes, his nose slightly wrinkled, as if nothing would make him happier than Pete willing to hear him speak.

"I love you, Pete Mitchell. I love you so much."

Pete felt his eyes stinging with tears, but he fought to keep them open.

Tom was confessing his feelings to him. He couldn't cry.

Even if it was all fake.

"Really?"

"Really. I have been in love with you for so long. Ever since I saw you fly for the first time. No, ever since I saw you. I noticed you, Pete, you must have forgotten. But I noticed you in your sorting ceremony in the first grade. You were queuing up for your sorting, and I looked up and our eyes met. I was completely stunned at that moment. All I could think was that I had never seen such beautiful green eyes."

Pete hadn't forgotten.

During the sorting ceremony, he felt like others were all rumoring about him, so he was a bit lonely and scared. But he stood tall, chin up, putting on a brave look. Then, a blonde boy sitting at the adjacent table looked up, his clear blue eyes earnestly observing him. Somehow, Pete felt more at ease, walked with his head held high to the front chair, sat down, and then walked to the Gryffindor table, where he saw Nick smiling kindly.

"You were sorted into Gryffindor, I was a bit disappointed—though later, after getting to know you, I found out you were indeed not a Ravenclaw—but you made it into the Quidditch team. You know, every time I saw you on the Quidditch pitch, I couldn't help but stare at you. Pete, I just couldn’t focus. You flew like a maniac, but you're always laughing, tilting your head back to let the wind blow through your robes, always risking yourself to help your teammates out of trouble—although, to be honest, most of the trouble was caused by you. I've been secretly watching you all the time, and it's a miracle I haven't been knocked out by a Bludger yet."

It's unbelievable, Pete thought, that Kazansky hadn't noticed him staring back.

Oh. Then he remembered. It's just the Love Potion speaking. How could Tom really love him?

"Do you remember when Nick got injured last year? When I saw you then, I just wanted to reach out and hold you, tightly and never let go, to let you know that everything would be okay, to tell you I'd always be here, whether you wanted me or not."

He wanted. He wanted so fucking badly that it almost hurt.

"Can I..." Kazansky lowered his gaze to Pete's lips, then back to his eyes, "Can I kiss you, Pete? I've wanted to kiss you for so long, and that’s all I could think about sometimes."

Nodding was too easy. He didn't even need to say anything, just tilting his head slightly, and he would be meeting Kazansky's lips, to know if his kiss truly tasted of mint.

Everything he wanted was right in front of him.

The only problem was, it was all fake.

Tom's love was fake, Tom wanting to kiss him was fake, Tom's gentle gaze was fake, everything Tom said was fake, all because of that stupid Love Potion.

He could kiss Tom, but after today, the Love Potion would wear off, and he would return to a life without Tom, the only difference being that now he knew the feeling of the other's lips on his own. But he could never have them again.

This was your life, his inner voice began to mock him, always sabotaging yourself, always fantasizing about things you could never have, ending up with an empty heart trying to grasp ephemeral love.

"I want to kiss you, I love you, Pete, I..."

"Enough."

Pete blinked, ignoring the tear that fell at last.

"Enough, Tom. I'm sorry, but I can't let this go on any longer."

He raised his wand, hesitated for a moment, then raised his left hand to touch Tom's cheek. Tom turned his face into his palm, his gaze shifting to the wand.

"Although you won't remember..." Pete hated the tremble and choke in his own voice, "but I love you, Tom Kazansky."

Tom opened his mouth to say something, but Pete didn't give him the chance.

"Finite Incantatem," he whispered.

Magic flowed from his fingertips, and Pete felt like a part of his soul had gone with it. He closed his eyes and only wanted to return to his room and sleep for three days after Kazansky left.

"...You love me?"

Pete opened his eyes sharply.

Kazansky hadn't left. He was frozen all over, unmoving as if turned into ice (excuse the pun). He looked at Pete, his face transitioning from disbelief to surprise, then ecstatic joy, then to cautious hope.

"You love me?"

What's wrong? Pete racked his brain, trying to recall the spell he had just cast. It should've worked, thinking of the Love Potion, pointing at the target, casting the spell, it should've broken the charm—though honestly, he spent most of his time in Charms class stealing glances at Kazansky instead of listening to the Professor.

He raised his wand again.

"...Finite Incantatem?"

Kazansky was still there, squinting his eyes at him.

"Alright, it is quite dubious now... Have you been under Imperio, Maverick? That could explain you saying you love me..."

"What? No, I haven't!!"

"He hasn't, I can prove that. It's you."

Pete was startled by Nick's voice. He had completely forgotten his best friend was still in the room. Kazansky took a step back. Pete turned to look, and Nick's face was a mix of awkwardness and amusement.

"I've been under Imperio?"

"No, no. More precisely..." — Pete closed his eyes, preparing for the impending embarrassment and heartbreak — "You've been under Veritaserum."

"What?"

"What??"

"The truth serum, the strongest kind, a precious baby." Nick held up the vial in his hand.

"But weren't we supposed to use Love Potion, Goose? How did it turn into Veritaserum? You clearly told me..."

"Where did you get the Veritaserum? This violates Educational Decree number thirty-five, I should hold you in..."

"...Carole's third aunt's second cousin has connections in Knockturn Alley? Wait, so you're saying this idiot here just..."

"...detention. Wait, Nick, he mentioned Love Potion? You were planning to give me a Love Potion? And this idiot here..."

"...drank Veritaserum? But he clearly said..."

"...did he also drink it? Because he just said..."

"...he loves me."

They said in unison.

Pete felt like all his thoughts had become a tangled mess in his mind. His breathing hadn't calmed down yet, and he could only stare at Nick in front of him, watching him raise his wand and point it at Kazansky, reciting the antidote spell for the truth serum.

Kazansky took in a sharp breath beside him.

"Although I didn't understand most of what was said earlier because you two morons were too loud, I heard the last sentence. Yes, you both said it. Now, I'm leaving this room. Firstly, because that will definitely be the most embarrassing memory of my life, even if I include the time I accidentally rode my broomstick into the Whomping Willow when dating Carole. Secondly, because I have some tasks to report." Nick gestured towards the door, "So… Enjoy yourselves. Don't ever tell me what happens."

"Report?" Kazansky asked, deliberately avoiding looking at Pete.

"Chipper and Sundown posted the meeting notice. Wolf and Wood got the special truth serum, Slider was mainly responsible for letting you know Mav is here."

"You..."

"We couldn't take it anymore, bud. If you two don't bone each other for one more second, we will all go crazy."

"So Carole wasn't involved after all?"

"Carole's suggestion was to snatch your wands and lock you both in the broom closet, but I thought that was too violent."

Nick winked at them and left the room.

In the silence, Pete felt his heartbeat thundering in his ears. He stood stiffly, his gaze fixed on the ground, feeling like his knees were about to give way any second.

He didn't know how to make sense of what had just happened. Should he pretend nothing happened and flee the room, taking advantage of Kazansky's distraction...

"Maverick."

Well.

The blonde hesitated, reached out a hand, and clasped his wrist. His pulse throbbed against Kazansky's palm, like a kind of declaration.

"Pete, I..."

"Do you really love me?"

"You are asking the floor?"

Pete raised his head, meeting Kazansky's gaze. His eyes had always been sharp, but now that light was soft with his long eyelashes slightly lowered. Like Pete was the most precious treasure in the world and he didn't know how to express how much he loved the person in front of him.

Pete knew this feeling so well.

"Yes, I love you, Maverick, Pete Mitchell."

"You think I can't get into Ravenclaw?"

Kazansky—no, Tom—rolled his eyes, furrowing his brow in feigned anger, but the curve of his lips gave him away.

"After all those heartfelt words I said, that's what you remember?"

Pete shrugged and tiptoed closer until their breaths mingled.

"I just want to make sure you remember what you said."

"Do you remember, then?" Tom tilted his head, brushing Pete's cheek with the tip of his nose.

"Remember what?"

"If you play dumb, I will leave now."

"Don't! Don't," Pete laughed, reaching out to wrap his arms around Tom's neck, "I remember. I love you."

"You didn't drink any love potion?"

"Seriously? Tom, you are my love potion."

Seeing Tom's expression like he had just eaten a whole lemon, Pete grimaced too.

"Sorry, cliché. But..." He pulled Tom closer. "...you like it?"

Pete tried to make it sound like a confident tease, but some insecurity seeped in and it ended with a slightly trembling question mark. Tom probably sensed it, because he reached out to embrace Pete's waist, leaning down to press his lips against Pete.

Pete closed his eyes.

"I love it."

Mint. he thought dimly. Soft, sweet, perfect minty taste that was exclusively his.

[whatyadrawin]

The Fruit After The Flesh 18+ -Chapter 3-

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 2,682 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt(HeadCanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings: Strong language, use of derogatory terms, sexually suggestive language.

A/n: Two drawings took me so long, I feel very pathetic and unproductive but I am so happy to get the ball rolling. I can't wait to illustrate and submit chapter 4 because oooooh lord Tommy boy gon look good in it. I am also so excited to get writing the next few chapters, I have the fire in me and I don't want it to go out until I get a bunch of writing done lol. Please check the masterlist linked above for updates on progress.

Tag list: @fan-goddess

Chapter 3

The day begins with the sounds of birds happily chirping in the tree shading your backyard; a gentle breeze is washing over the land, cooling the heat away from the ground. You feel good today and decide it’s time for a cute yet practical outfit, so you grab some jean shorts, and a bright yellow tank top with a reliable pair of boots, you were ready to get things done. After eating some oatmeal purchased from Luda Mae’s store, you get your things ready to go drive to the next town and do some serious food shopping.

The car is packed with some water and a snack or two, but before you hit the road you take a trip down to see Dover the farmhand to try and appease him one more time. The morning seems to be the best time to catch him, and you can see him watching TV through a window so you knock on the door gently and hear a groan, he answers the door and when he sees you, he rolls his eyes and says rudely,

“Whadya want?”

You put on a sincere smile and reply “Good morning, I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?”

“Ya interrupted my peace, now what the hell d’ya want?” his tone is aggressive, but you continue,

“I just thought I might interest you in some new stuff for your home? I know you like how things are but I wanted to see if I could make it more comfortable, like a new T.V, or a new bed or whatever else.”

He throws his head back and sighs “Ya just don’ get it do ya? I don’ want yer fancy shit from the city, I don’ need nothin’ other’an this here orchard n’some peace! Why don’t ya just go play dress up with the Hewitts again, see if their retard son will play tea party with ya”

He slams the door on you. You feel sick with anger and knock again, this time more loudly.

Dover opens the door and screams “The fuck is yer problem?”

You try to keep your cool as you reply through gritted teeth “Why are you so mean to me? What did I ever do to you other than be kind and offer you help or nice things! You don’t even know my name!”

Dover’s eyebrows furl into and angry frown “This here land belongs t’me, stupid little girl. I worked fer years under that bitch Tilly, and the fact that she left everythin’ to some no-good kid who don’ deserve it, makes my skin crawl. If I had my way, this place’d be mine”

You look visibly confused “What is that supposed to mean?”

He then pauses and gets all flustered “Nothin’, nothin’ at all. You just let me do everythin’ here, soon ya gon’ realize ya don’t belong here and leave, if ya know what’s good fer ya. Now never come back to this house ever again or I’ll give ya somethin’ to cry ‘bout”

He slams the door again and you are shaking with rage, your eyes begin to well up with tears as you walk away back to your car. You set out on the drive to the next town and it feels like it lasts forever, the road is straight and flat, and the surroundings are just large swathes of yellow grass and wheat rushing past you as you speed up to shorten the distance. The sky is cloudless and the sun is blaring down on you causing your eyelids to weigh down, you decide to put on a playlist that only has bangers to energize you. Eventually you see the welcome sign for the next town and feel a sigh of relief.

 The town is small but you are able to spot a large Costco in the distance -Oh hell yeah, I can really stock up now-. You find a parking spot close to the door and as you walk in you get blasted by the air conditioning which feels so nice after that long, hot drive. You take your time through the aisles grabbing as many bulk items as you can, finding preserved goods that won’t immediately go bad, and some produce that would be able to last a little longer than others. Once your cart is fully maxed out with goods you head to the cashier who looks at you funny due to the number of things you are buying. They greet you,

“Hi Ma’am, all this for you?”

You smile, feeling a bit embarrassed “Yeah, I don’t live nearby any stores, just stocking up.”

They smile back “Oh yeah? Where ya comin’ from?”

You reply “Fuller”

The cashier squints her eyes in curiosity “Fuller? Where’s that at?”

You are a little surprised by their response, but with how desolate the town is their response makes sense, you say,

“It’s a... um, well…a dead town near the Oklahoma border”

They tilt their head as they scan your Costco card “Must be real dead if I ain’t never heard of it.”

“Yeah, it is” you give a little chuckle and they continue,

“Well, alright then, I’ll get yer stuff boxed here and you can be back on yer way to the dead town.”

You finish paying and thank the cashier, then you start wheeling your cart back to the car when a very old man approaches you.

“You came from Fuller?” he says

You reply “Yeah, do you know it?”

He pauses, then says “I know it. That town used to have a lot people go missing after the businesses left. Why’re you out there?”

“I inherited an orchard” you say quietly

He places his hand on his chin “Oh? So, there’s still somethin’ left huh. Be careful ma’am, that town ain’t safe from what I know. The people ain’t right, if there’s any people left.”

You feel extremely confused “Ok, uh, thanks?”

You open the trunk and fill it with the bags wondering what he could possibly mean by people going missing, and the citizens being not right.

The drive back felt a lot faster; you were running what that old man had said through your head, -he must be talking about Dover, or maybe some urban legend-. You have experienced gossip and falsehoods about your own town back home before, so it didn’t seem so absurd to have a random stranger tell you something odd. You arrive back at the house by 1pm, happy to have been so productive today, you begin to unload the car and get everything into the house.

All the groceries get put away and you decide to start baking a batch of chocolate chip muffins for the Hewitts since they have been nothing but nice to you, and it’s the first time in a long while where you feel comfortable around other people; you are hopeful of making new long-term friends with the Hewitts. You bake 24 muffins since you assume that Tommy likely eats a lot and maybe hasn’t had a baked pastry in a while. When the muffins are done baking you take them out of the oven and put them in the little basket you brought the fruit over in, you cover the muffins with a cheesecloth and make your way over.

You walk up the driveway and look to the barn but don’t see Tommy there, just a group of chickens clucking around. You knock on the door which gets answered by Charlie who says,

“Well, well, well, what we got here? Bringin’ us somethin’ good sweetheart?”

You blush and reply “Yeah, I baked some muffins for all of you”

“Well, ain’t you sweet. Come in girlie, Luda’s gonna wanna say hi” he waves you in

You didn’t like how he stared at you but he seemed mostly harmless, he calls out into the house

“Luda! The neighbor girl is here!”

Luda Mae comes out from the kitchen drying her hands with a towel “Oh hi dear! What a welcome surprise to see you. What brings you by?”

You smile, Luda Mae is such a welcoming and kind person, you say “I baked some muffins for everyone, as a thank you for inviting me over the other day, and kindness you have all shown me”

“That is so thoughtful of you! I hope you know you’re welcome to come by anytime dear, you don’t need to bring gifts every visit, your company is enough” she says sincerely.

You feel very accepted among this strange small-town family you say “It was no big deal really, I went to the next town over to get groceries and picked up some ingredients to make sweet things to share”

Luda Mae tilts her head and smiles indicating how impressed she is by your kindness and generosity, she follows with “Well Tommy will just love these, I guess you must’ve known that he doesn’t get to eat baked goods often”

She calls out for him to come upstairs and you immediately get butterflies in your stomach, they make you feel nauseous and excited. You hear heavy, thudding footsteps and the house gently rattles as Tommy makes his way up to the living room from what you assume is the basement.  He stops in his tracks the second he looks up and sees you; his eyes were shrouded in shadow from his hair and thick brows but despite the darkness, the brilliant blue looking back at you was vivid and bright; his long hair was roughly tousled and draped down to the nape of his neck in curly dark brown tendrils.

You finally got to see him even closer and you lose your breath with just how incredibly huge this giant of a man is compared to your own height, his chest is so wide it would enshroud your entire body if you hid behind it, his thick pectorals heaving with every breath under his worn-down short sleeve blouse. His legs were massive and covered by a pair of very worn and dirty jeans, they were hanging onto by a worn belt that had a large belt buckle, oxidized by time. You immediately felt a tinge of ancient animal fear from the obvious difference in power his body displayed, he could kill you in seconds if he wanted to but beneath his brutish exterior you could sense there was someone worth taking a chance on.

You wished to be able to see the rest of his face but it was hidden behind a dark leathery mask which was tactfully sewn together, there was only a small slit near his mouth for air to pass through, you wondered what he was hiding if he was already this impressive.

Luda Mae sighs and says,

“Thomas, don’t be shy, Y/N brought us some sweets, say thank you”

He holds his stare on you, he had never seen someone as breathtaking as yourself and your clothes did nothing to hide your robust, curvaceous figure, you didn’t look like someone who could easily break if he were to touch you but your height was barely a third of his own. He couldn’t help but find you simultaneously gorgeous and cute which was a perplexing and new feeling he welcomed. He suddenly snaps out of his trance when Luda Mae clears her throat, he then nods slowly as he shifts his eye contact from you and turns to leave quickly back down the stairs.

Luda Mae shakes her head “Excuse him, he takes a bit to warm up to people he likes”

“What about the people he doesn’t like?” You shocked yourself with your comment, it seemed to have just come out against your will.

Luda Mae looks at the floor and clenches the towel “Oh… haha well, don’t worry yourself about that hun. He likes you; one can tell that plain from the way he’s behavin’ ”

You let out a giggle and try to hide from the heat building up in your cheeks, Luda Mae notices this and smiles, Charlie sees this too and rudely barks in,

“Good thing y’got a crush on him because the people who don’t like him? Well, Girlie, you don’t wanna be them.”

Luda Mae drops her smile and snaps “YOU HUSH UP RIGHT THIS SECOND! THOMAS AIN’T DONE NOTHING WRONG!”

Charlie just laughs and wanders off, Luda Mae looks at you and says,

“I’m so sorry ‘bout him dear, he’s got such bad manners, does whatever he wants.” She places her hands on her hips and squints in the direction Charlie wandered off.

You reply “It’s alright. You know, Thomas seems to not want to be around me every time I come here. I hope I am not seeming like an intrusion to him.”

Luda Mae gets a worried look and says “Oh sweetheart, as his mama I can tell you with full certainty that he likes when you come over. He asked about you the other day, wondering who you are”

You try to suppress the smile forming on your lips, “I didn’t know he spoke. I would love to get to know him better” for some reason you kept saying bold statements despite your mind protesting the revealing honesty.

Luda Mae smiles at you “He speaks to the people he feels comfortable with, so far that’s only been me and sometimes Charlie. I think you may have to make an effort with Thomas dear, he is going to be like taming a wild animal, so you have your work cut out for you”

You continue a bit of small talk about the town you visited and then take your leave back down the drive way to home. The walk back makes you think of so many scenarios in which you would be able to speak with Tommy, he seemed like he would have a lot to say. The prospect of making Tommy trust you and having such a unique friend was overstimulating and got you so excited that you didn’t notice Dover come out of the bushes next to you, making you jump from being startled. He gives you a dirty look and says,

“Seems like yer makin’ friends with them Hewitt folk. What a stupid girl ya are. You know their sons a violent sort dontcha?”

You have had enough of Dover and his cruelty, you reply,

“I thought you wanted to be left alone? Besides, Thomas is really shy, he doesn’t seem violent”

Dover laughs “Ya really are dumber’n ya look! That retard would string ya up and eat ya alive if you don’t get the hell outta here”

You stop walking and face Dover “Why are you telling me this? It seems like you don’t care if I live or die so what would it matter to you if he DID eat me alive?”

He stops and looks at you “I DON’T CARE IF YA GET BURNED ALIVE!”

You stare at him, saying nothing, and he awkwardly looks around, expecting you to get mad, he follows

“Ya like that fool dontcha? Yer fixin’ to have him split yer birthin’ bits in two huh?”

You sneer at the crass statement “What is wrong with you? If you don’t need anything from me then please just go find the peace you claim to want, and let me live my life”

You continue walking away and he yells back after you “Those fuckers ate people ya know! Next theyr’ gon’ eat YOU! Have fun fuckin’ a cannibal man, ya dummy!”

You keep walking and make your way to the front door of your home, the words said to you by Dover were heinous but they did make you think, -He might be right, Luda Mae and her family say some really weird things a lot and seem to change the subject when things get too suspicious. At this point, I don’t care anymore… this is my only chance to have a normal life and have friends, maybe even family. I’m going to continue Tilly’s legacy, if not for her… then for all the people who seem to actually care about me-

Next chapter-

[ask-whitepearl-and-steven]

I want to do a piece of fanart, but my idea is kind of gorey (think zombie body horror and guts hanging out and stuff.) I don't think my idea is too far off to be deemed "too much", but that makes me wonder how far you think too far is? (Fanart wise of course.)

Oh, hmmm. Thank you for asking! That's very thoughtful of you. I, personally, have no issues with gore in art. I don't mind seeing it, so draw whatever! I'll gladly look, and perhaps* reblog it!

*That being said, it's not exactly a sfw thing, and it can indeed be disturbing to some people. If it's particularly detailed, would not recommend casually posting it without any warnings.

If you do decide to draw it, I recommend this:

You can tag it appropriately, (add tags like #gore and #blood and #visible viscera, whatever applies etc) and you can put it under a cut!

If you don't know what a cut is, it's a tumblr feature that allows you to hide something under a 'Read More' link that you have to click to open.

On tumblr editor, it looks like this:

This way, whoever actually wants to see it, can! And whoever doesn't want to see it can scroll past without ever having it in their eyeballs.

Also, just to make it clear:

Whenever you are tagging something, PLEASE use the actual word. Do not censor it with alternative symbols or words.

Tags such as 'g0r3' or 'unalived' do not actually help anyone trying to avoid the subject matter. These spellings were only created to avoid a purity algorithm that indiscriminately filters out anything that doesn't fit a disney standard.

Real people who are using filters to avoid specific tags NEED you to tag them accurately and explicitly, because if you tag 'su!c!de' instead of 'suicide' they may inadvertently end up seeing it, because they did not catch your exact 'avoidance variation' in their blacklist.

[pedroshotwifey]

Christmas Countdown Day 10 - Marcus Moreno

Insatiable

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x afab!reader

Word count: 1.1k

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, sex pollen trope, multiple orgasms (f&m), shower sex, piv sex, not beta'd, stuff i'm forgetting

Summary: Marcus comes home from work in need of some help

A/N: Sorry this is late today guys. I'm going to go ahead and get started on tomorrow's, so hopefully that will be on time. I know this countdown isn't getting much attention atm, but to the handful of you who read it everyday, I love you and thank you for putting up with me <3

***

You’re just rinsing your body when you hear the bathroom door open. 

“Baby?” 

Your eyes widen in concern as you hear Marcus call for you, his voice frantic and strained like he’s in pain. All at once, a million scenarios cross your mind. He could be bleeding out where he stands right now. In his line of work, you just never know. 

In a flash, you’re throwing open the shower door and stepping out. 

“Marcus?” You ask, just as frantic as your anxiety gets the best of you. 

As soon as your feet touch the bathroom floor, you’re being shoved back into the warm spray of the shower. 

“Nu-uh–get–shower, get back in–”

You stumble back, per his request as he wraps himself around you and forces you in. His skin is burning up and he’s still fully dressed as he gets in with you. His lips crash against yours as soon as he’s close enough. 

You shake your head and try to shove him back, your concern growing with every second. 

“Marcus, stop,” you say, your voice shaky. “Wh-what the fuck is going on?” 

“Please, baby, nee–ungh–need you, please,” Marcus’s words come out fast and whiny as he reaches for his belt buckle, his fingers fumbling as he tries to undo it in a rush. 

You stare at him with a shocked expression. Clearly, he’s fine, other than the fact that he feels like he’s running about a thousand degrees over what he should be. As soon as he manages to get his belt free and his zipper down, his cock springs up.

Okay, well fuck. Maybe he’s not fine. His dick is fucking massive—more so than usual anyway. It’s about two inches longer than his normal seven, and the girth looks to be almost twice what it usually is. It’s visibly throbbing, the tip a furious deep red. 

Precum dribbles down his solid shaft, catching here and there on the over-pronounced veins to pool in the hair at the base of his monstrous cock. 

Your jaw drops as you look back up into his eyes, and he stares right back at you, a look of desperation, fear, and lust within his own. He brings his hand to his dick, unable to help himself, as if it causes him great pain with each moment he’s not touching it.

“P-please, baby, help,” he pleads, his eyes watering. 

You’re about to tell him that he’s not coming anywhere near you with that thing, when he lets out a strangled sob. His cock twitches and he just about doubles over. 

“It–work–I–there was–ah–this dust-” He can barely get a sentence out. Fuck. You have to help him, you know you do. But how in hell are you going to fit that thing anywhere?

You look at him, licking your lips nervously. His button-up shirt and nice slacks are clinging to his skin the same way his hair sticks to his forehead. His eyes are pleading and ashamed as he continues to tug on his cock at a harsh pace. 

Steeling yourself, you turn around and plant your palms on the shower wall. As soon as you do so, Marcus is on you.

“Thank you, baby, thankyouthankyouthankyou.”

“Just–ah!” you gasp when you feel his engorged tip at your entrance. “Just be gentle, please,” you say, closing your eyes and trying to relax. As much as it may help right now, Marcus might not be able to wait long enough to warm you up. You’ll just have to take it. 

You know you can, you have to. You don’t know what kind of long term effects could come from something like this. Especially if it’s something he picked up on a job. You’ve heard things about a new drug that causes a person to react like this, and if that’s what it is, it means certain death for the affected person if their needs are not satisfied. 

Though you can’t be sure if he’s been affected by such a thing, there's no way in hell you’re going to risk it. 

Marcus begins to thrust up, starting to part your walls to accommodate him. He lets out a breathy whine as he does so, just the slightest bit of relief enough to satiate the pain for a second. 

You wince slightly and your knees buckle once he gets about an inch in, the girthy feeling almost too much. Marcus has his hands planted firmly on your bare hips, and you grip one forearm for a bit more stability.

“I know, baby,” he groans as your nails dig into his skin. “So good to me, you’re okay, jus’ lemme...”

He feeds you another few inches, so a little more than half of him is squeezed into you. You let out a whimper, the fullness unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Marcus is trembling behind you, placing his lips on your neck to leave sloppy kisses. 

Just as it feels like it’s going to start getting painful, he groans loudly and grips you tight before you feel a hot spurt of something fill your cunt–his cum, you realize with a gasp. The intrusion allows him to slip the rest of his still hard cock into you. 

He shoves it all at once, hitting your cervix as he bottoms out. You let out a scream at the same time he groans. He only holds still for a second, and then he’s sliding in and out of you at a brutal pace, the force of his thrusts keeping you on your toes. 

It’s not long before that familiar warm feeling is taking over your entire body, making you shake and your mind grow fuzzy. You’re so close. 

“M-Marcus, please touch my clit,” you beg as you grind your ass into him. 

He obeys, immediately dragging one hand down to rub at your clit, which just as quickly sets your orgasm off. He fucks you through it, slamming into you like an animal. 

You moan loudly as your cunt convulses around him, your eyes closing and your jaw going slack. If Marcus wasn’t holding you up, you would have fallen to the shower floor. 

His cock starts to twitch within you, and you can sense that he’s close too. A few thrusts later, he’s shooting his seed into you again as he bites down on your shoulder. 

You shout as he does so, but the pain mixed with the feeling of his cum spurting in thick ropes all over your walls triggers your second orgasm, so quick to your fist that it seems like it’s just one. 

The two of you seem to melt into one another as the pleasure completely takes over you. By the time you come down from your highs, you’re both panting and leaning on one another. 

Marcus moves, and you assume he’s going to pull out until you feel him thrust up gently. His hard tip nudges your sore g-spot, making your eyes widen. You’re already exhausted, but Marcus shows absolutely no sign of slowing down any time soon.

It’s going to be a long night.

*** Thank you for reading. Please let me know if you want to join the countdown tag list.

FOTJC: @arcanefox207 @redhotkitchen @magpiepills @exquisiteserotonin @sparklefarts38 @pink-whiskey-woman @youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime @secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @beskarandblasters @tightjeansjavi @theywhowriteandknowthings @nerdieforpedro @maggiemayhemnj @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @ghostofaboy @joels-shitty-puns @elvinaa

WCC:  @amyispxnk @melaninmommy @brittmb115 @mandoalorian

Link to prompt list

[upat4amwiththemoon]

Hi! I hope this is where I drop requests because im new at requesting stuff but anyway, can you do a short fic about going to prom with kate? where reader nervously invites her to dance and they just look in each other's eyes while dancing and talking to each other. Since my prom is coming up soon I just want to read something about it. If you don't mind, please make the reader masc and taller than kate but it's totally cool if you won't do it. Thank you!!

Prom night

Summary: Luckiest girl alive.

Pairing: Kate Bishop x female!reader

Warnings: my knowledge of proms comes solely from tv

Word count: 810

a/n: I hope your prom went well <3

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

Y/N knocks on the door of the Bishop residence, holding onto a bouquet of flowers on her other hand. She smiles when she hears Kate tumbling through the house to come open the door. “Hi!” Kate grins, letting Y/N in.

“Hey.” She gives the flowers to Kate. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you.” Kate eyes the suit Y/N is wearing, though she has seen it before, they did choose them together, she still can’t help but love the way she looks in it. It’s simple, but good looking, a black suit with a dark purple tie. Kate’s suit color is the same, but opposite. Her suit is dark purple and tie black. “Are we ready for prom?” She moves her eyes back to Y/N’s face.

“I think so.” Y/N holds out her hand for Kate to take.

They walk over to her car hand in hand, until Y/N has to let go to open the passenger seat door for Kate, who giggles as she climbs in. Y/N walks ove the the driver’s side and gets in, starting the car. As they drive, Kate has her hand on Y/N’s thigh, rubbing small circles to it. They’re quiet, only sound being the car and the music coming from the radio, but it’s a comfortable silence.

The ride to their school isn’t long, the car is parked after only fifteen minutes of driving. “Stay there.” Y/N says, quickly opening her seatbelt and getting out of her seat. She jogs to Kate’s side of the car and opens the door for her. “My lady.” She smiles, offering her hand to her again, which makes Kate giggle as she accepts it.

The couple walk towards the entrance of the school, it’s already full of other students from their grade. The music is booming from the gym and disco lights occasionally flash through the windows.

Inside, they give their tickets to the people behind a small desk near the entrance before walking into the gym. They wait in a line for a while, but they get to the picture station quickly. Kate and Y/N do a few different poses as their math teacher takes their pictures. Soon it’s already the next couple’s turn.

“It looks good.” Kate mumbles, looking at all the decorations. Their small gym actually looks decent now.

Y/N hums, pulling Kate over to the snack table to pour them some punch. “Do you think it’s spiked yet?” She takes a sip of the drink, swirling it around her mouth as she tries to find any traces of alcohol. “It’s not.”

While they drink the punch, they make their way over to the chairs and tables, occupying an empty one. A pop song is playing and students are dancing at the cleared area, some of them subtly trying to grind on each other in a way that’s not visible to the teachers.

For a while, they just sit and drink there. They’re both still nervous to be around each other, not having been officially together for a long time yet. They have been friends for years, so they’re certainly comfortable with each other, but the romantic atmosphere always makes things more nerve wracking.

A slow song starts playing after the more upbeat pop song. Y/N sets her now empty paper cup to the table and turns to look at Kate. She wipes her sweaty palms to her pants before speaking, “would you like to dance with me?” The hand she’s holding out for Kate shakes slightly.

Kate smiles, taking her hand. “Of course.”

They walk to the middle of the other people dancing, turning face to face. Kate’s arms wrap around Y/N’s neck, while hers go on both sides of Kate’s waist. They start swaying along the music, holding an intense eye contact that makes everyone else invisible.

Y/N’s cheeks are starting to hurt from the amount of smiling she has done. “I’m really glad we’re here together.” She whispers.

“Me too.”

The gap between their bodies becomes smaller as they get more comfortable being so near. They’re still mindful of the teachers’ watchful eyes, but they’re content in each others company, no matter how touchy they’re being.

“I think I’m the luckiest girl here.”

Kate’s eyes stray to the ground as her cheeks turn a shade of pink. Giggling together, Y/N pulls her into a hug. They stand there, Kate’s head resting on Y/N’s shoulder, savoring the warmth and happiness they’re feeling.

“Teacher.” Is all Y/N mumbles for them to pull apart and get back to dancing. The song has changed back into a 2000s pop song, so they start jumping around with the other students.

Kate and Y/N still keep their eyes on each other, both thinking they’re the luckiest person in the room.

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

For the mermaid ask can you do 1+6+8 you write really cool stuff 💕

Hi Ha-Ha Whump! Thanks so much for the kind words! Sure I can write this for you! Thanks for requesting this, here you go! P.S. I know mermay is long over but hey, it's still summer over here! And mermaids are relevant all year long in my opinion! Thanks for your patience while I got around to this!

From this ask game

The waves lapped at the shoreline like a mother pulling a blanket up to her child’s chin. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon, painting the sky with a pink and orange hue. Bits of wood and metal littered the beach, coated in salt and sand.

Caretaker picked their way through the wreckage, looking for any survivors. They had the lighthouse beacon on all night, but some poor ship had managed to get dashed on the rocks all the same. Upon seeing the ripped, black flag with the skull and crossbones amongst the driftwood, Caretaker realized that this might not have been a bad thing.

A splash made Caretaker whip their head around. Something was writhing in the sunken ship’s net. A pirate? A pirate’s prisoner? Regardless, they were a survivor, and Caretaker hoped to keep it that way. They rushed over to the spot, untangling the person trapped inside. They were so entangled that only their upper half was remotely visible.

They looked up at Caretaker with fearful eyes. Their long hair clung to their face and torso, dirtied with sand. Red welts littered their pale body. A pirate’s prisoner then.

“It’s alright,” Caretaker said, “you’re lucky to be alive. I’m going to take care of you, okay?”

The person didn’t speak, just gave a tiny nod. Caretaker started working on their lower half, and gasped when the net fell away to reveal a shimmering fish’s tail.

So more than a pirate’s prisoner- a pirate’s trophy, a pirate’s pet; a captured mer. Now that Caretaker took a closer look, those freckles on the person’s face looked more like little blue scales. Those scars on their neck? Gills. And hidden behind their curtain of hair were webbed ears.

“Are you going to hurt me?” The mer asked as if they knew the answer already.

“Wha- no, of course not,” Caretaker said, eliciting a look of surprise from the mer, “I said I was going to take care of you.”

Now that the creature was free, Caretaker could get a better look at their lower half. Their tail was littered with cuts and was missing scales in various patches. There was no way they’d be able to swim with it. It was decided then.

“My name is Caretaker,” they started slowly, “I’m going to pick you up now if that’s okay.”

“P-please don’t,” the mer said, shrinking back.

“But you’ll die if I leave you out here on your own,” Caretaker reasoned, “I promise I won’t hurt you, I just want to help.”

The mer thought it over for a long moment. They looked up at Caretaker and nodded. Caretaker smiled in a way they hoped was calming. They scooped the mer up in a bridal carry.

“..umpee,” the mer mumbled.

“Hm? What was that?”

“Whumpee,” the mer repeated, a little more audibly, “my name is Whumpee.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Whumpee,” Caretaker said, “I’m gonna get you all fixed up, okay?”

Caretaker began the walk from the beach to their lighthouse near the cliffs. They had no idea how to take care of a mer, but darn it, they were going to try.

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@electrons2006