#nickel x book

[mixyyyx3]

Bfdi nickel ships..........feeding the 5 bfdi nickel fans(me)

hate this guy

[vannakishkov]

Nickelbook

Gift for my bestie:3

Also version without background

[phobos-exe]

// Weapon X (2011): Issue #7

he's on his period

[ikilledtvguy]

random bfdi doodles :p

sorry the colour pallete for this is a bit weird i was messing around w/ colours :P

[awbjects]

errrrrrhjgnhjkgdsfddsfads colors i like colors i like to play and draw

[dimitri-gorelight]

BILL FORD LOVE CHILD AU UPDATE!!

Nicole with an alternate version of her self where Weirdmageddon never ended who we will call nickel.

Because it’s funny

[therandomcreechur]

Spoilers for BFDIA 11 (they have such bad uploading schedules cuz this came out at midnight)

OK I AM SO SORRY THAT ITS SO LATE BUT THSI IMMEDIATELY CAME TO MIND WHEN THIS SCENE POPPED UP

DO YOU SEE IT 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

Rejoice Bomby x Nickel shippers

COINPIN

AHHHH THE DOORS

BALD PENCIL

It’s giving yin yang ☯️✨✨✨

Barbecue sauce: 😨 MY BOYFRIEND “So I’m X colored, huh? I never thought of it that way!” -Flower, BFB 17 (THE BASKETTTSSSSS)

[chatdae]

The Great Gatsby (1974) au where Gatsby doesn't die and instead Nick takes on the no-paying job of trying to get Jay to move on from Daisy.

Bad ending is Gatsby never does & he and the Buchanans become a never-ending shitshow. Good ending is Jay moves on. Super special bonus ending is Jay and Nick fall in love (toxicity optional)

[windyyarcher]

I sure do love lesbians #yuripride

[bitchthefuck1]

Where are my kanej and pushing daisies fans at

[clovercovercity]

homestuck

Funniest fandoms are where the fans are like, "I'm obsessed with this. I don't recommend it even slightly."

[vintage-tigre]

Happy New Year! Time for Lemon Pigs! A new year tradition, bring yourself good luck for the ensuing year by making a lemon pig. You will need:

1 x Lemon

2 x Cloves

4 x matchsticks / tooth picks

A piece of tin foil

A knife

5p/Shilling/Nickel coin

Insert the matchsticks / toothpicks in the base of the lemon alla legs. Press in the close to the pointed front of the lemon. Make some little slits just above and pull the rind very slightly up (to create ears). Make a tiny slit at the other end of the lemon and make a tiny tin foil roll and insert into the slit (for the tail). Finally make a small slit beneath the clove eyes and insert a 5 pence piece.

*401 Party and Holiday Ideas from Alcoa, Conny von Hagen, 1971

*Lady Hollyhock and her friends : a book of nature dolls and others, published 1917

*Detroit Free Press, Sun, 8 Dec 1889, Page 11

*The Lemon Pig Completed in The Enterprise January, 1898

[entitled-fangirl]

A wolf.

Cregan Stark x reader

SMUT OMG PLEASE BE 18 OR OLDER

Summary: the reader has been shying away from Cregan, and it begins to affect their marriage. They find a way to fix it.

Warnings: p in v, talks of attempted r*pe, mental health

A/n: Based on many many many asks!! If I had a nickel for every time someone asked for this scenario, I'd have three nickels- which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened three times

Masterlist

………………………………...........

It had been almost three weeks since she had been almost taken advantage of in the Godswood.

Three painful weeks.

She was the same as she had always been outwardly- still outgoing, determined, hot headed, and witty.

But something still stirred deep inside.

Cregan knew that only time could heal the fear that still dwelled deep inside of her.

But the time was started to weigh on him as well.

Three weeks since they had been intimate.

But it was not for lack of trying.

It always started out alright. A few kisses that turned into something more. But when he would lay her on the bed and begin to let his hands wander, he could see the fear that bubbled from deep inside her.

And nothing would continue from there.

He could practically feel the whispers of the rats within the Winterfell walls. Rumors of what had made such a happy marriage fall apart.

He had grown tired of her. She had cheated. Perhaps she was pregnant.

It all angered him more than he liked to admit.

…

He sat with her on the small sofa of their chambers, the fireplace crackling.

“What was your question?” She asked with a smile and a furrowed brow.

“What animal would you wish to face? Here in the north?” He said as he sipped ale from his cup.

She hummed before easily answering, “oh. A wolf.”

He couldn’t stop the chuckle that rose from his throat. “A wolf? You wish to face a wolf, my love? You have no weapons in this scenario.”

“I am aware,” she continues to smile as she stood and moved to the bookshelf.

He watched as her fingers skimmed the spines of the books, “I do not believe you wish to face a wolf.”

She pulled a book from the shelf, satisfied with her choice and she moved back to the sofa. “Oh, I do.”

“You are strong, but I do not believe you may beat a wolf.”

She sat down next to him, “Best him? Why must I do that?”

Cregan was confused. “A wolf is aggressive. Proud. Protective. You cannot walk past it without showing it respect.”

“I do show respect.” She hummed as she began to open the book and read. “What would you choose, Cregan?”

“A mere rabbit. Perhaps a fox.” He laughed, “I do not see you surviving a wolf attack.”

She huffed and set her book aside, “I did not specify which wolf.”

Oh.

Oh.

He felt a smirk rise, “Oh, and what kind is that?”

She smiled and leaned to him, “a hungry one.”

He reached forward and grabbed her chin, “And pray tell, who will protect you from such a wolf?”

“Who said I was hiding?”

He couldn’t stop his lips from meeting hers.

The kiss was deep. Passionate and yet, gentle and kind.

His hands gripped her waist and pulled her to him.

She clambered into his lap.

Cregan pulled away, remembering that perhaps he should start to slow down. “Let us not be hasty-“

“I want you, Cregan,” she panted into his mouth.

He felt a jolt in his stomach.

She hadn’t said that in weeks.

He nodded, connecting their lips again as he pulled at his tunic.

She began to untie the knots on her shift.

He pulled his tunic from him as their lips disconnected, and she pulled her shift off just the same.

“Let us move to the bed-“

“No,” she stated firmly with a hand on his chest. She leaned forward and connected their lips again, “just here.”

He wouldn’t deny that request.

Her hips began to rock against his tented pants, causing him to let out a low hiss.

He nodded, gripping her hips and trying to move her to lay on the couch.

“No, no, no,” she said as she shook her head.

He was beginning to understand.

She felt trapped under him. Overpowered.

It reminded her of then.

But here? She was in control.

He nodded, beginning to trail kisses down her jaw

Her hand moved down pulling at his pants.

He smiled against her neck, bucking his hips up to let her remove his pants. A small whine came from her at the pressure against her.

Once his pants were to his knees, he reached up and grabbed her face, making her look at him, “you’re sure about this?”

She nodded.

“This is not of pity? I will never think less of you if we need to stop.”

“I want this, Cregan. I want you. Please.”

He couldn’t deny that now, could he?

When she began to move herself down to meet him, his hips bucked involuntarily.

He cursed under his breath. He needed to keep himself under control.

Her hands squeezed his shoulders as she sunk herself down onto him, her brows furrowing with the familiar stretch that had almost become foreign due to time.

Cregan let out a groan, his knuckles turning white as he gripped at the couch.

She stopped when she was fully seated on him panting lightly. Her forehead brushed his.

“You alright?” He asked in a whisper.

She nodded and a breathless smile overcame her, “I’m perfect.”

He continued to trail kisses down her neck, pausing when she began to move herself.

His hips tried to buck again, but he caught himself, chewing his lip to pieces in concentration.

“You feel so good, Cregan.” She grinded her hips. “I’ve missed you.”

“Gods, I’ve miss you too.”

His lips moved to capture hers as he pulled her tightly to him.

She kissed back with as much fervor as him, pulling his face closer.

…

“I do believe I like that position,” she finally said as she cuddled against him under the furs of their bed.

He grinned, “Do you?”

She nodded, “it felt nice.”

Cregan moved his head down to kiss the top of her head. “Perhaps next time I may lay down? So I may see all of you?”

Though he couldn’t see it in the dark, he could practically feel the gears in her mind spinning.

“We don’t have to. It’s just a thought.”

“No.” She nodded. “No. I want to. That sounds lovely.”

He smiled and pulled her closer to him. His eyes closed.

A long silence filled the dark room before he spoke again, “You truly believe you could best a wolf?”

She smiled, pushing herself up to meet his gaze, “Only the Wolf of the North.”

He leaned up, connecting their lips, “Yes. Yes, I suppose you could.”

…………………………………….

[revelboo]

I just have to say how much I love your writing! I honestly can’t remember the last time I read a full book that I enjoy as much as any of your stories! Tarn is my absolute favorite, so if you don’t feel inclined otherwise, please make him suffer the torments!! Torments of love, preferably :)

He is fun to torment

L .G. Fuad Pt 4

Tarn x Reader

• So used to his little shadow, because no matter how many times he brings you back to Nickel you always come back to him. He notices you’re missing almost immediately. Nearly a whole cycle without a little organic trailing behind him. A good thing. Welcome. So why does he wander the ship looking for you? Nickel not even looking up from her terminal when he enters the medbay and finds you sprawled on the nest of blankets that you sleep in, skin slick with sweat. Watching as you shudder and cringe into a little ball with a low sound of misery. “What happened?” It’s not that he cares about you. Only curiosity, certainly not concern.

• “Best I can tell, it’s having a toxic response to the food I synthesized for it. Must have been building up in small amounts and reached some threshold,” Nickel says, little servos typing. “It’s been purging for hours.”

• Miserable, you squint at that familiar, soothing rumble. Your big guy with the mask checking on you? Weak and trembling you can’t even lift your head, hair slicked to your cheek and neck with sweat. You’ve never been sick like this before, your body bent on violently ridding itself of poison, because that’s what it feels like. Being poisoned. Not that you’ve any experience with that, but there shouldn’t be anything left to come up at this point.

• Dull eyes stare up at him, your breathing noisy as he kneels and touches your arm, finding it clammy instead of warm. “Dying, then?” It’s not like he didn’t know you wouldn’t live long. Organics are fragile, short lived things anyway. He just wasn’t expecting it to be so soon. Remembering the way you follow along behind him, running to keep up with his stride as if afraid of being left behind. Chattering at him in your attempts to communicate. Or humming to his music. Climbing on top of his ped when he’s still long enough and staring up with pleading eyes wanting to be picked up. Always following him. Reaching after him.

• “No. Just very sick.” Nickel doesn’t share either of you a glance, preoccupied with her work. Sliding his servos under you blankets and all, he rises. “Don’t let it eat anything.” She adds as he nudges your jaw and you weakly swat at his servo with an unhappy sound.

• Staring tiredly up at him, those optics narrowing behind the mask, you really hope he’s not carrying you to be put down or something. It’s not like he exactly likes you. He’d made it abundantly clear by carrying you to the small blue one over and over that he considers you a nuisance. He’s big, though. Stops the others from messing with you and protects you from that nightmare with teeth. So you keep tagging after him and safety. Big servo sliding against your side, you wish he didn’t wear the mask. That you could see his expression, because his touch is so gentle.

• Venting in annoyance, he glances at Nickel then back at you. Those intelligent eyes staring up at him. And he doesn’t care about you. You’re nothing, just a little organic. But he carries you back to his quarters, feeling you trembling in his hand. You’re insignificant. Of no value to the cause. Too small, too weak. So why does he sit on his berth with you and your tangle of blankets in his palm. Why didn’t he leave you in Nickel’s care? Stroking his servo over you, he stills when you lay a hand on him. And he doesn’t care about that soft, warm hand on him. Doesn’t feel anything, certainly not warm at that touch.

Previous

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[awbjects]

breaking: local book is having a great day with her friends :-)

[thealtoduck]

Being the Son of Calliope, headcanons…

PJO x Male Reader (No romantic pairing)

Warnings: None…

Summary: You’re the son of the goddesss of epic poetry and eloquence and One of the Nine Muses…

(A/n: I know I was meant to work on other stuff but I got distracted.)

(Song is unrelated to the story but it felt Muses coded so…)

——

You were the only half-blood at camp related to one of the Muses, specifically Calliope, the Goddesss of Epic Poetry and Eloquence.

When you had gotten to camp you used to stay in Cabin 11, even though you’d been claimed, there was no cabin for you. So you ended up bunking with Travis Stoll.

But after the war with the titans and Percy’s demands to Zeus to the gods, a cabin dedicated to the Nine Muses had been built.

You being made the counsler… not that there were any other options…

The cabin was great tho, it was decorated with statues and carvings of the muses and their symbols. There were paintings hung of their famous demigods too such as Orpheus, Hyacinthus and Linus

The cabin had a big book case with novels, plays, comedies, tradgedies, poetry. A soundproof dance studio, a soundproof music room with a bunch of instruments, a sky window to study the stars.

Basically everything associated with the Muses.

——

If you had a nickel for everytime someone had tried to pick you by saying ”you were their muse” or that ”you had inspired” the poem, song or novel they wrote… you’d be richer than Hades.

You were particullarly popular amongst the Apollo cabin who seemed to think you were some kind of key to overcome creative blocks. Will Solace, their counselor, needed to keep them in check since they all seemed interested in you in one way or the other.

Athena’s and Hephaestus’s cabins were also drawn to you for your creativety.

——

You would however end up being paired with the Apollo cabin to lead the campfire sing-alongs, you usually end up with a solo song telling the dramatic story of some greek hero.

Imagine something like ”The Gosphel Truth” from ”Hercules”, with the Apollo cabin acting as you back up singers.

——

As for your powers, you were far from the strongest of demigods, but you were by no means weak.

You had a natrual talent for the arts, singing, dancing, poetry, instruments, etc…

As the son of the goddess of Eloquence you could cast minor short lasting curses on people that would effect their speaking, that could for example cause them to only speak in rhymes and limericks or make them unable to finish long sentences before drifting off.

Your swordfighting style would be noted by the other campers to be quite different, while they fought normally with their swords, Percy described your style more as a ”VERY deadly and sharp dance”.

Being related to the muses you also had an aura that could induce inspiration and creativity in someone (so maybe the Apollo cabin was on to something with their interest in you).

Though that power worked both ways as you could also curse someone with creative block.

——

Unlike most demigods, you’re mother showed up quite often to advice you whenever you had a problem… and she didn’t come alone.

Let’s say you’re in your cabin and you’re sad after having an argument with a friend.

Well… then all the 9 statues of the Muses in the cabin come to life and start singing a pop-soul number about why friendship is important and you should make up with your friend.

It’s was quite terrifying the first few times it happened but you get used to it after a while.

Being one of the Muse’s son is pretty much like being all of their son.

(A/n 2: Sorry, this is shorter than i usually write and is more so a collection of small headcanons for a Son of Calliope!Reader than a full on fic.)