#poor love must need go wee by now

[weshallc]

When is the Wedding?

Old Skool Turnadette.

Second of (which is now) three parts.

Thank you @fourteen-teacups and everyone who commented, reblogged or liked part one.

One O’clock

Shelagh returned to All Saints’ Church for the second time that day. Dr Turner had gone on his rounds and she had prepared lunch for Timothy and his grandmother. Marianne's mother had volunteered to keep the boy company while she and Patrick made their arrangements.

Granny Parker appeared to be as excited as her grandson about the forthcoming wedding. This had taken Shelagh by surprise at first, aware that her daughter had only passed away two years ago. But, the more she watched grandson and grandmother together, the more Shelagh began to realise that Timothy’s happiness was the older lady's main concern.

Mrs Parker had confided in her over Christmas that Shelagh believed to be a God send. She hadn't been convinced Patrick was coping as a single parent . Not wanting to come across as an interfering busty body, she had been summing up the courage to suggest to her son-in-law that Timothy go and live with her in Bexly Heath for a couple of years. Shelagh had been really shocked at this revelation and although she appreciated Mrs Parker’s concern and her willingness to help, she knew this would have hurt Patrick's feelings.

Shelagh had rarely seen him lose his temper, maybe occasionally with a negligent professional or an over officious board member. Only once on a personal level when the nursing staff refused Shelagh access to sit with Timothy because she was a day away from being his mother.

Mrs Parker was a warm and jovial woman, but she could see that Timothy didn’t just inherit his straightforwardness from his father's side. If Granny Parker misjudged her approach when raising her concerns and its solution, it could have damaged their relationship irrevocably.

These thoughts occupied Shelagh’s mind as she made her way through the transept and headed for the back of the church, retracing Patrick’s and her steps from earlier that day. She knocked on the large mahogany door of Reverend Raymond’s office.

The responding “Enter” brought a smile to Shelagh’s lips. How often had she heard that word from those lips over the last ten years? Although from behind a different door. She pushed the heavy barrier open.

“Shelagh, it’s so lovely to see you.” Sister Julienne was so impressed with herself for not throwing herself upon the young woman standing before her she released a rush of air which she disguised with a cough.

“Reverend Raymond said you’d be here this afternoon. I hope you will forgive my impromptu visit?” Shelagh rushed her greeting, alarmed that she hadn’t thought to telephone ahead.

The older woman was now by her side and had taken hold of her hand to reassure her friend.

“Reverend Raymond has been so generous in allowing me the use of his office, on an occasional basis, to complete Nonnatus paperwork and to store a lot of our documents in the crypt.”

Sister Julienne never changed, Shelagh thought, always thankful, always seeing God’s will in every hurdle that crossed her path.

“I also have full permission to make use of the kitchen. Would you like a cup of tea?” Shelagh’s protests of being a nuisance were soon silenced as her host explained she had been just about to allow herself a much desired break.

As a nun who had once wondered if she herself might one day be called on to run a convent, she admired the deftness of her mentor’s social skills and ability to put everyone around her at ease.

In the end, the church housekeeper had ushered the two women back into the office, perhaps not with the same social skills as Sister Julienne. She entered the office ten minutes later carrying a tray set with a fine bone china Royal Worcester Torquay tea set. A tea plate was full of raspberry jam tarts, which she informed her guests were the reverend’s favourites, but he could spare a couple.

As Sister Julienne played mother, sadness enveloped Shelagh; her own dramas had detached her slightly from the struggles her former colleagues were facing, as a result of being forced to abandon Nonnatus.

“I’m sorry to take up your time, Sister. I know this must be a difficult time for you, as us all, so many memories to be just ground into dust.”

“I can’t deny it has been a challenging time, but a building will be ground to dust. But, my memories and faith will remain very much intact. The order and our spirit are still very much alive.”

“Of course, Sister.” Shelagh took a sip of tea, wondering if it was the exact same teacup she had drank from that morning.

“But we mustn't dwell on the past. What of the future? May I enquire how did your first visit of the day to this office conclude?”

“Thank you for asking, Sister. Dr Turner and I are to be married the second week in February.”

“Splendid, the Lord dwells not in the old and decaying, but in the new and flourishing. One of many fresh starts I hope this year.”

As Shelagh helped herself to a tart, she wondered if they had been baked between visits or if the vicar actually didn’t like to share,

“So, when is the wedding?”

Forty minutes to two.

Talking to Sister Julienne always calmed her fears. Her steps were lighter, leaving the church and heading back to Timothy. She had been foolish to cut herself off from her friends, her family if she was truthful. She had been so thrilled to be forming a new family with Patrick and Timothy she had underestimated that change, even positive change, takes time and effort. She had found herself no longer a sister, yet not quite a Turner.

As traumatising Timothy’s illness and the consequences had been the blessing behind it had been the postponing of the wedding. It had given her and Patrick time to get to know each other a little better against the backdrop of tragedy rather than caught up in the nervous energy of a new romance.

It had also broadened her notions of what being a mother involved. In the sanatorium she had daydreamed of tucking the boy up in bed and helping him read. She’d wanted to draw with him and play the piano. She imagined sitting in the front row beside Patrick and applauding him in his school play.

That moment she was stranded behind the ward door looking helplessly on with the Matron’s words echoing around her head “You are not his mother” she’d known there and then that she wasn’t Timothy’s mother. The realisation had hit her that repeating her vows before God and wearing Patrick’s ring wouldn't miraculously make her fit for the role. It would be a title she would need to earn. She had a lot to learn.

A squeeze of her arm jolted Shelagh back to reality.

“Hello, you”

“Oh hello Trixie, how are you?” The young midwife was gingerly maintaining her balance on her bicycle, one foot planted on the pavement.

“Very cross with you. Chummy and I have been trying to arrange a time with you to design your wedding dress. If I didn't know better, I'd think you had been avoiding me.”

“My main concern these days is caring for young Timothy and encouraging him with his exercises, not on frivolous things such as gowns.” Shelagh knew she had overreacted. that her all too recent musings on motherhood had coloured her reply.

Trixie paused for a second, as if she was considering how to respond herself. As she studied Shelagh, she wondered what she saw; her confident colleague and superior or a neurotic woman, only slightly older than herself, but completely out of her depth.

The midwife hopped off her bike and leant it against the wall of the nearby Napoli. Taking hold of Shelagh’s arm once again, she pushed her through the Italian bistro’s door.

The warmth of the cafe complimented the welcome from behind the counter.

“Nurse Franklin. Lovely to see you again. Sit anywhere, you have avoided the rush.”

Shelagh sat opposite Trixie, filling a table for two next to an enormous mirror. It had been three months since Shelagh had looked at herself in the sanatorium mirror wearing her tired 1940s two piece, but the unexpected appearance of her reflection wrong footed her. She noticed Trixie gave her own image the briefest of glimpses and adjusted her hat in response.

A dark haired man in his twenties with a pristine white shirt and military ironed black trousers arrived at the table offering to take their coats. Trixie explained they would just be taking tea and a cannoli each. Shelagh wanted to protest that she could still taste the vicar’s Typhoo on her lips and had a raspberry seed wedged into one of her molars. The discomfort brought on by the mirror and the lack of familiarity in her surroundings somehow weakened her ability to protest.

The tea arrived swiftly in a large stainless steel teapot accompanied by two white pyrex turquoise band teacups and saucers. A matching tea plate with the Italian cream filled pastry followed.

Trixie ignored Shelagh’s raised hand towards the tea strainer she was flowing the hot amber liquid trough and filled her teacup to the rim.

“How long have we known each other?” Trixie had obviously come to a conclusion regarding the dilemma that appeared to have gripped her out doors. “You were the only one who saw through me almost ten years ago.” The bridge of Shelagh’s nose wrinkled in confusion. “You saw through my clipped, cut glass tones and my faultless sense of style and saw a nurse and a midwife and believed in me. I now can see through you, Sister Bernadette as was, you need to believe in yourself as a bride worthy of the man that adores you.”

Shelagh smiled affectionately at her friend and used the pastry fork to poke at her unprecedented third treat of the day.

“A little bird told me that you and Dr Turner had a very special appointment this morning.”

Shelagh decided it was only fair to relieve her animated companion's agitation.

“Yes, the wedding is booked for the second week in February.”

“That soon! Oh, we have so much work to do in such a short time.” Trixie dropped her fork and placed both hands on either side of her waist as if steadying herself.

“We do?” Exclaimed Shelagh.

Trixie frowned at the woman opposite, as if she was without reason.

“When is the wedding?”

[ethereal-night-fairy]

To the Edge of Chaos

Prologue

Pirate!Gaz x Female Reader (of mixed Arab decent)

A murder accusation and the death of a beloved father. Those where the events that led you to take refuge in this seedy tavern. Scared and left completely alone for the very first time, you try you're best to evade watchful eyes. Easier said than done when there were handsome pirates in the vicinity.

Warnings: MDNI, Crude language, talks of beheadimg and murder.

To the Edge of Chaos

Masterlist

Words: 1.1k

“Did you hear!?,” The man next to you whispered. He must be a local if he's comfortable gossiping in a tavern like this. The smell of cheap alcohol was making you nauseous but this was the only safe place you could find for the time being.

“Everyone's heard by this stage,” the bar keep whispered back. “The city guards have been preventing people from talking about it since they announced the passing of the King. I heard they're going to behead her without trial.”

“I don't believe it for a second! Our princess would never do something like that!”

“Keep your voice down! They have ears all over the city,” the bar keep warned. But the bar was rowdy despite the news of the king's passing circulating. It felt like the city was celebrating, apart from a select few that is. You didn't realise how insignificant the royal family was in this part of the city. Though granted, the ports were often run by pirates these days despite the naval guard trying to stake their claim over the area.

You wonder where everything went wrong. It wasn't long ago that you were dressing as a servant boy to explore the city scape. Even though you should have been studying, should have been performing your royal duties. It seems that your selfishness has come to bite you in the ass. Had it not been for your uncle you would be on the road to your demise right about now. You've only narrowly escaped death for the time being. No one knows how you'll fare tomorrow.

That's how you found yourself in one of the few places the city guards couldn't reach you. The loyalty of the people here lay with the outlaws, the reject, the outcasts. An ideal place to find a temporary identity or a completely new one if one wanted. The bar buzzed with joy as the people guzzled their cheap rum and brandy. It tasted nothing like the refined wines you were raised on. Not that you had the luxury of being picky anymore. But at least you could enjoy the sweetness during these trying times. Probably not a good financial decision though. But you desperately needed something to take edge of the grief you were feeling. 

“The king loved his daughter, why would she have any reason to kill him?” The drunk patron drawled on despite the looks he was getting from the other patrons. The royal family really wasn't popular here. You scan your area staying on high alert, you couldn't have anyone mistaking you for someone who was supposed to be locked up and awaiting her death. You suppose sneaking out did pay off in this instance. You were so used to acting like a boy that it wasn't hard mimicking the mannerisms of the people around you. That and the disguise was good enough to fool the drunk for now. You just needed to get your hands on a more convincing ensemble if you wanted to survive.

“Aye nae one cares that wee bastard is dead, Never done nae good for the people like us! And his daughter too! Never even seen 'er face in public! Always hiding away in 'er big castle too full of 'erself tae care about 'er people dying in the slums!” A drunk man with an odd haircut shouts. Pirates. You watch the men around him laugh as they encourage him to keep going. The whole situation made you uneasy. Your reputation was horrible amongst the poor it seems. Or anyone for that matter. You were very much aware of the hate you received because of your mothers heritage. Despite her still being foreign royalty.

“Good thing we'll finally see 'er head come off! Good riddance!” You flinch as the man continues his rant stumbling as he tries to reach the bar for more alcohol. But someone from his group grabs him by the back of the neck before he can reach where you were sitting. Damn you wouldn't want to mess with his friend.

He was built like an oak tree. Not to mention his terrifying mask. You wouldn't be surprised if they called him the grim reaper. You remind yourself to keep away from those two. It's not long before the drunk man is hauled off outside while he airs out his lungs towards the person who was holding him like a pup. You watch as his crew boo and jeer the big man as he drags out the other to sober up.

Your eyes naturally drift back to the rowdy crowd who seemed at home in the tavern. Many women excitedly draped themselves on the arms of the most handsome or the ones that looked like they had money. You couldn't blame them. They were quite handsome you'll admit, and who didn't like money? You could use some right now.

One man in particular caught your eye. His laugh was akin to the warmth of the setting sun. Your hand absently caresses the necklace around your neck. The thought of him caressing skin no man has touched made your head spin with forbidden thoughts. Ones you desperately had to push down. Your necklace hums with magic concealing your feminine features, essentially presenting you as a boy to anyone.

You continue your not so discrete exploration of the handsome man's toned body. He would have make a nice personal gaurd. It stirs something in your heart but you push it down as soon as it surfaces. Now wasn't the time!

His dark sun kissed skin glowed under the light of their lanterns while multiple women tried and failed to monopolize his attention. Though you knew for a fact he enjoyed the commotion they were making for him. You could see it on his smug face and mischievous kohl covered eyes. They looked like pools of honey from where you sat. Stop it idiot! You need to focus!

It seemed the bearded man sitting next to him was also enjoying the attention he was receiving. They exchanged cigars as they continued to enjoy their drinks while the woman fawned for their undivided attention.

You study them for a bit before making up your mind. They'd do nicely. You needed money, and they looked like they had plenty to spare. You're sure they wouldn't mind a few coins missing. Though it was your first time stealing, it couldn't be that hard could it? A little flirting here, a little touching there and you'll have a couple coins in your purse in no time. You glance at your necklace debating if it was a good option to remove the enchantment for a short time. The people were all drunk anyway and it wasn't like anyone would recognise you here. You just needed to get one of them alone somehow. But how?

Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.

[noritoshiikamo]

wake up [childe x reader]

im writing childe again as an annual sacrifice to lose on his banner for c5 jean or tighnari also miss manipulative yet sweet little husband childe [continuation of this]

tagging @cheolinn @duskamethyst @crashed-wing

cw dubcon, manipulative childe, pregnant reader, wee bit of somnophilia, female receiving oral, not so descriptive penetrative sex, mention of breeding kink, stockholm syndromish, homicidal thoughts (childe)

ajax is ridiculous throughout your pregnancy.

you found yourself dodging him ever so often but would it work with your stubborn husband? never. your cold shoulder meant he just had to work a little hard, aggressive with no subtlety. to him, you must just be a little cranky with his busy schedule. serving tsaritsa is might be a priority but for you, he was willing to make an exception.

he’s suffocating.

hovering over you, berating everything you do as if you haven’t been doing this for the past 57 day to be exact. “stop, i’m just pregnant. leave me alone,” you muttered angrily, eyes didn’t even leave the chopping board holding off to the herbs you were about to chop. ajax knew well than to mess with an angry woman holding a knife.

“my love, you are going in your second trimester, you should be resting. what kind of husband am i if i’m not helping my sweet sweet wife.”

you turned around, annoyance was all your face could convey to his nonsense, “well for once, if you would’ve learn to control yourself, i wouldn’t need to be carrying a baby for 9 months.” his laughter echoed the small cottage as you found yourself trapped between the counter, a hard place and your charming husband. his bare hands, sight you rarely seen brushed gently against your cheeks. your tensed body immediately relaxed as if it was trained to respond as such to his touch. “now, now, that wouldn’t be so husbandly of me if i couldn’t get my wife knocked up, wouldn’t i?” his lips brushed your own so lightly but it was your reaction that made the man marveled in excitement. you were reaching for more.

“oh, did my wife miss me?”

you bit your tongue, “shut up and quit bothering me.”

ajax feigned a small pout, fishing for your sympathy as he rested his forehead against yours. his cold eyes were wide with joy, being nuisance to you was his choice of bantering. he missed this dearly, contemplating more sabbatical leaves to spend more time with you. his thumb brushed against your lower lips as his finger hooked under your chin, forcing your gaze up on him. “i told you,” he clicked his tongue, “i will lessen the bothering after our third child. fifth if you want to completely stop, i will definitely shut my mouth.”

he felt something sharp against his chest. looking down, you slammed the knife flat, palm on the handle against where his heart laid. your hand looked so small compared to the knife,“just cook.”

you waddled away, tossing the apron on the counter. you felt his gaze against your body but it was his words that gave you the shivers.

“i’ll still have it, y/n. after our sweet firstborn is out, i will only give you few months of break, and then i’ll breed the second one right back in ya.”

you knew it well that the threat isn’t empty.

it was adorable that 30 minutes later, he found you completely out in the baby room, resting against the nice sofa by the window with a book on your laps. it seemed that the book is reading you and not the other way around. my poor exhausted wife, he thought fondly. he leaned against the door, arms across the chest as his eyes roamed. how could he resist the idea of pumping you full of his child when you look so adorable and cute?

something twitched in him.

his boots creaked heavy against the floor. winter must be brutal on you after years in the land of freedom. you surely missed the sunny breeze against your skin, his finger brushing lightly against your thigh, hiking your dress higher. a soft oh escaped his lips as his eyes widened in excitement. down on both knees, his lips planted butterfly kisses along the inside watching as you squirmed and sighed. the book long forgotten, laying on the floor as he ventured deeper. you must have been thinking of how none of your complaints were heard by him. ajax just didn’t think that it would be true; you’re not just gonna be walking around with nothing underneath just because the waistband hurts. he felt sorry for doubting you, apologizing in the way he knew best with a kiss in your mound.

“sorry baby, shh just sleep,” he hushed as he yanked you by the legs forward, spreading your legs further. you whined, drowsy in exhaustion.

he was sorry indeed. with arms both underneath your thighs, holding you in place, he burrowed deeper. on his archon’s name, he couldn’t understand how you could taste this delicious on his tongue. ajax could no longer go for the soft gentle licks, he was ravishing you. when he was not running his tongue along your slit, teasing your throbbing holes with his pointed tongue, he kept his lips latched around the puffy clit. with every whines and sighs, he kept his grips on your soft thighs tighter.

his heart swelled and his cock twitched when his name slipped out of your tongue so gently. even in your dream, he was haunting you. except this wasn’t a dream and ajax was really going to town. he would kill for you to wake up, listening to your sweet begging of no and not here.

he has no sense of patience and politeness.

he would keep you gagged with his cock down your throat underneath the table, pounding you in the corner of the dark alley of the busiest holiday night in town and here he is, trying to fuck you in your newborn’s room. he lives for the lusty fearful eyes of yours as he drives deeper in you. releasing your clit with a soft pop, his fingers went busy around the belt. he was leaking through the light pants, managed only to open it halfway before giving it a quick tug. he never asked, you knew better than to protest what was his. he rubbed the hardened cock against your slit, watching frenzied in lust as your face contorted in pleasure.

“oh, y/n,” he called gleefully, planting kisses on your nose, “you better wake up or you’ll miss it.”

his kissed ticked your. your eyes opened lightly, startled by your husband’s face directly on your face. “miss what?” you asked confusedly. your pretty voice laced in exhaustion and sleep.

ajax smiled gleefully and your heart sank. “fuck, ajax!”your eyes shot opened as he pushed his whole length in. not giving you a single warning, not even easing in slowly, the fucked up blissed look in his face as he was fully sheathed in your cunt. you came just by his penetration, much to his content. your legs beside his figure trembled as you fisted his red shirt. “fucking warn me first,” you cried, his hungrily lips reached your own. you tasted yourself, face flushing violently as you realised what had happen. your eyed rolled back at the feeling of his tongue brushing against your own. “hm, what about warning me first if you decide to walk around without a panties? what if someone see it? they’ll take advantage of my sweet pregnant wife,” he mocked, withdrawing his hips back and slamming forward, “my poor helpless wife, can’t have people know that they got the tightest cunt in town, can’t i?” you threw your head back in pleasure, tears pooling in your eyes from pain turned into a pleasure down your cheeks. he occupied your neck, lapping and biting your skin. sucking until marks formed where your heart pounded heavily underneath his tongue. until he was satisfied, until his hands took over around the column to bring your eyes back to his.

“don’t. do. it. again,” he hissed, emphasizing each words with the harsh thrust into your cunt, “not when i’m not around. or i will kill anyone who sets their eyes on you. don’t tell me you got off to the thoughts of me killing someone for you, my wife?”

his hips slowed down and you immediately shook your head, tongue building courage to mutter no. you watched as his face softened immediately, happily kissing you with his hips snapping harsh enough you could feel your second coming. he knew it. with the way you were breathing heavily, acting so obediently with his ridiculous orders and the pussy tightening against his cock, you were about to cum. “a-ajax! i can’t,” you whined, gasping for air he knocked out with every fucks. “s-slow down please.” your feet pressed against his side, struggling to slow his pace.

“sorry baby, i want you to cum on my cock. not even a chance,” he chuckled, lapping on the salty droplet against your cheeks, “come on baby, you’re tightening around my cock, give it in.” your cries echoed the small room, sofa creaked against the wooden floor taking the brunt of his harsh thrusts. your dress was like a thin paper shredded, exposing your bare skin he yearned the most. lapping hungrily on your sensitive, hardened bud. with every gaze of his fangs, you cursed him in your mother tongue. it could only make him more feral. you could feel his pelvic grinding against yours.

ajax is attractive when he’s about to cum.

his daze was feral yet soft, glistening with lust. his soft locks stick to his face and every time it became troublesome, he pushed it back. you couldn’t help the stare to count the speckles of freckles that kissed his face and wondered how many times had his past lover kissed him there. was it you? his face softened when your fingers rested itself against his face. he enjoyed it. his smile grew wider and so did the wrinkles around the corner of his eyes. “someone’s staring,” he teased, almost panting the words out of breath. you didn’t say anything, brushing a line you were certain once was a bleeding scar you nursed to heal.

he ruined your life, dragged you back here and imprisoned you but how can you hate him? deep inside you, you knew you made him mad. you drove him away and now his child grew in your womb and your found it more of a bliss than a punishment. your body tensed, nails dug deep in his shoulder blade. you didn’t make a sound, holding your breath. you came again but it almost feel like an out of body experience.

“y/n, come back to me,” his raspy voice against your ears startled you. you didn’t realise how you end up on his laps, on the floor arms tight around him with his hips were more forgiving this time. ajax breathed a sigh of relief, “there you are. wow, you’re so easy to break there, sweetheart, i thought i lost ya for a sec.” his eyes search your face, flushed and full of bliss. “do you want me to stop?” he asked, brushing your drool away, cleaning your face with concern.

“you didn’t finish,” you mumbled, confusion etched on your face.

“i don’t have too, are you okay?”

you pushed him off, watching as his soft ginger locks splayed on the floor. his brows jolted up in surprise, “y/n,” he warned, holding you up by the waist. a soft curse escaped his lips as he felt the walls tightening against his length. you love it, the way your name escaped his tongue. his moans echoed the room now as your hips moved. his cries and the way his grips tightened against your flesh every time your hips snapped up and down. he was getting sensitive, eager to finish, his hips moving upward to match your pace. his hand, it roamed. holding on to your arm, grabbing a handful of your growing breast but when he finally came, it sat against your growing belly. you gasped, feeling overwhelmed and full as he painted your inside wide, not a single drop wasted.

the room was quieter now. you both sat attached, struggling to catch the breath you knocked out of each other. you watched as his fingers trembled around the buttons. he shed the shirt off before sitting up, carefully wrapping you in his warm shirt. you said nothing, letting him rest your head against his chest. you listened to his rapid heart pounded, his fingers brushing your back with every breath you took you swore his heart skipped a beat. you sat there long before he kissed your forehead and sat you back on the sofa.

“stay here, let me grab you some clean clothes and something to clean you up.”

you yawned, shrugging nonchalantly, “nothing with waistbands, no underwear.”

ajax beamed in excitement, his smirk grew wider as he watched your face flushed warmer, “oh, trust me, you are not wearing anything after that.”

© all content belongs to noritoshiikamo. do not modify or repost.

[fortloser]

Hello again! Sooo kinda a personal question but what was yalls childhoods like?

(Also, hope u feel better snipes!)

-Terror

Hallo everyone! I finally got my hands on those portraits! Now most of the others became rather uncomfortable when I started questioning them about their youths. I got answers ranging from “why are you so bloody intrested in how im doing! There’s nothing special about me or my childhood, now bugger off.” to more reasonable explanations. I tried calling Scout on his cellular device but he seemed very preoccupied. Oh well, he’ll get back to you on that, onto the testimonies! Brace yourself friends this will be somewhat lengthy.

I first approached herr Demo, and getting him to open up was fairly easy. His favorite alcoholic beverage and a snack did the trick!

“ It must be me birthday if yer spoiling me rotten doc, I guess I can share something about me youth if yer willing to lend an ear. I grew up in Glencoe Scotland, a great place if you like trails and hiking. Me mum and dad were professional monster hunters and me being the wee little lad that I was wanted to impress em with the greatest catch any child could give their parents, the Loch Ness monster! I did it all on me own but it came at a cost,,”

After that herr demo just stared off in the distance and I made a mental note to ask him more about that later, The Engineer was also very open about his youth! I came to him shortly after dinner knowing he would be busying himself with one of his long-term projects and would enjoy some company, his leg was still a little stiff from a rather nasty fall and so movement was difficult at times. He was more than happy to talk while I assisted.

“Luckenbach Texas, everybody is somebody there. It was recently bought by a goat farmer. Can you believe that? He called himself an Imagineer and after that, a bunch of hillbilly musicians started moving in. Can't complain though, It breathed new life into my home, I hated going back and seeing the state it was in. My mom and pop own a small pig farm there, and I still try to visit though unlike my good-for-nothing twin with his stupid fancy job at “NASA”,,

I don't think I should share his personal frustration about his twin with the public so let's move on, yes? The next day I approached Heavy, he was last on my list and seemingly already aware of me interrogating the entire team, and as he was cleaning his minigun he told me to take a seat.

“You want to know about heavy, Da? Then I will tell you about heavy. Grew up in big town near mountain, you would not know it. Had big family, many sisters and brothers but Heavy was oldest. Family was poor but happy, loved summer, snow would melt and grass and flowers would show, heavy likes this. Went to good school had many friends, now heavy works to give family same life. Doctor is happy  with answer?”

I was surprised he was so willing to talk about his youth, I politely thanked him and left to prepare for that day's battle, I suppose that only leaves me left.

I was born in Germany, my mother was German and my father was Dutch and they both moved to Germany so my mother could be close to her family, he was a watchmaker and she was an artist, this relationship did not last and they got divorced. My motherstayed in germany allowing my father to raise me on his own back in the netherlands. I spent a lot of time in my father's workshop while he was trying to fix up old clocks. I didn't have many friends but who needs them when you have books and wildlife to observe? I excelled in all of my studies and pursued medicine, and eventually ended up here writing to you after I just finished up patching the last of my colleagues.

Stay healthy

With kind regards medic

[malestransforming]

hey man life’s stressful. do you think you could change me? take away some of that stress and make me dumber and buffer

snap

Welcome to my changing room. No need to thank me. You have been selected! You're going to love what I have in store for you. I heard the poor baby has some stress in his life. Oh dear, what a poor baby. Let me make it better for you. I'll change your life so your only stress is not having enough hours in the day to pump in the gym.

Oh you like that idea, huh? I can tell — your dick is already hard. Let's start there... I'll make it a little bigger. Oh, your balls need to be much lower than that, and they need to be fucking heavy man. Give 'em a squeeze. Feels good, right?

Now where to go from here? How about down? Your butt is awful flat... I'll fix it. Feel it grow and inflate. Feel it firm up and shift out. Feel it squeeze and tighten. Damn, that's a great ass.

Your thighs and legs. They're bigger. Those muscles might be sore for a bit — you just finished a big workout!

You want a 6 pack? 8 pack? Must be nice to watch all that fat and chub melt away... to be replaced by chiselled abs and an adonis belt you could hang a spoon off of. Go ahead and flex that. I'm gonna widen your shoulders a ton. You're gonna have trouble fitting through doorways son! You'll need thick arms, bulging veins. You are a fucking muscle beast bro!

I'll add some muscle to your chest and pecs. Feel that burning and stretching. Your nipples are relocating to the tip of your pec. Perfectly little brown circles. And just a wee bit sensitive. Especially if I rub my finger around like this.

You like that. I saw your dick twitch. You love nipple play now. Especially when guys, ahem - you're gay too, when guys lick around it with their tongues.

Time for your face. Boyish looks. You have the bod, but your face is clean and smooth. And this is going to be the fun part for me — the mental changes! You're fucking dumb as all shit bro! Ch'yeah bro, don't worry about using that head of yours. Just keep pumping that muscle up and taking selfies in the mirror. With a face and a body like yours, who needs to think?

[gabessquishytum]

Helloo, wasn't sure how to go about this but please ignore the previous ask if there's already one in your inbox. My internet was kinda screwy when I sent it before, so I wasn't sure if you'd received it or not (Tumblr said it was sent but I have doubts, my internet was seriously screwy XD) But I made one teensy edit in my ask, BAHAHAHA I made it hornier is what I mean... I need to touch some serious grass.

This blog really isn't good for my heart, I mean my god, the last few asks have been an absolute exercise in control for me, testing my ability to not squeal like a goddamn lunatic in public. All of them feed my inner bottom!Hob demon so much, I just can't.

The insane stamina Dream ask is just gloriously messy, and imagining the aftermath is doing things to my mind, okay. Imagining Hob fucked stupid, still on his knees but his front has completely collapsed - his arms gave up pretty early actually - but now, he's been reduced to a twitching mindless mess, his eyes are glazed over from the pleasure, mouth open and drooling, and finally his arse, my gosh his poor, puffy, swollen, and twitching open hole that's just leaking Dream's cum continuously. It can't seem to close, not yet anyway, but for the moment, it seems like Dream may have gotten a wee bit carried away. Oh well, since Hob's mind is already gone, Dream might as well enjoy himself more by eating out Hob, all the cum's gotta come out sometime, right? I'm sure Dream will make up for the brutal fucking and the overstimulation with aftercare, it'll be a nice surprise for when Hob mentally recovers enough to be aware again XD.

The sex pollen/aphrodisiac ask, GORGEOUS. Titania, get fucked by literally anyone else. I love this one, I really do. I love the image of Hob being confused cause Dream's not fucking him, pulling on Dream's clothes whining all the while, forgetting that there are people watching (faeries but whatever) reverting to his sugar baby voice to beg, calling Dream daddy UHAIUHIAUANSDANGGFDGDSGFDDASND okay. It's just so cute, okay? Begging Dream so sweetly to fuck him, cause he feels so hot and itchy inside, and he's clenching around nothing. When that goes ignored, Hob takes off his clothes cause he can't take the heat anymore, and he reaches around to fuck himself with his fingers, without permission. Dream is just absolutely horny and livid now, everyone is getting a show all because Titania dared to fuck around with such an underhanded tactic. And Hob may have been drugged but he should've known better than to touch himself without permission, he's definitely getting a punishment when they get back, but for the moment, Dream needs to show everyone that he's perfectly and wonderfully happy with his human lover.

The language kink, I just. I just can't. Is there any kink that won't fit these two. I mean, Dream being merciless, purposefully making Hob mispronounce everything, making him cry over his mistakes. At some point, the sadistic bastard just drops the pretense and fucks Hob for the rest of the session, making him cry all over again.

Basically, Hob needs to be fucked stupid, and be left gaping and sloppy. Always. Always. No exceptions.

-Love Yan Anon <3

Alakskdjfh the Internet definitely ate your first message but this one got in loud and clear!! Thank you so much for appreciating and embellishing some of the recent Slut Archive moments! I must say that the sex pollen lives rent free in my mind <3

I truly appreciate your appreciation of the smut, my dear. Just take care of that heart of yours 😉

[messenger-of-stupidity]

One word.

Wendigos.

Okay thank you for coming to my TED TALK

HAHAHAHAHHA YEAH RIGHT 

I have more about wendigos because I have a problem. No yall dont get to know what the problem is. That’s a secret for the winner of the hunt

pleasesendhelpihaventsleptfor27hours

FIVE FUN FACTS ABOUT WENDIGOS WITH MESSENGER!

1) It has Native American origin. Specifically the Native American tribes that spoke Algonquin (A dialect of Ojibwa spoken by the Algonquins. Which, if you didn’t know, are the Indigenous people living in Canada along the Ottawa River and its tributaries and westward to the north of Lake Superior.) The other tribes that had the wendigo in their folklore are the Saulteaux, the Cree, the Ojibwe, the Naskapi,  and the Innu (if I remember the last two right. Like I said, getting really sleep deprived and this is from memory. But I need to get it out of my brain and on here because I have the aforementioned problem.)

2) It has several names! They all are like some variation of Wendigo though. But the names are; Windigo, Witigo, Witiko, and Wee-Tee-Go. All of these roughly translate to “the evil spirit that devours mankind.”

3) As with most folklore, depending on the legend, the appearance of the Wendigo changes. But some describe the wendigo as an emaciated figure with ashen flesh. Others describe it as a giant creature up to 15 feet (4.5 metres) tall or as a beast that grows larger the more it eats. It may have sunken or glowing eyes and sharp yellowed fangs and claws. There are some that say it’s may appear as a monster with some human characteristics or as a spirit who has possessed a human being and made them monstrous. 3a) The Algonquian legend describes it as: “a giant with a heart of ice; sometimes, it is thought to be entirely made of ice. Its body is skeletal and deformed, with missing lips and toes.”  3b) The Ojibwa describe it as: “It was a large creature, as tall as a tree, with a lipless mouth and jagged teeth. Its breath was a strange hiss, its footprints full of blood, and it ate any man, woman, or child who ventured into its territory. And those were the lucky ones. Sometimes, the Wendigo chose to possess a person instead, and then the luckless individual became a Wendigo himself, hunting down those he had once loved and feasting upon their flesh.”

4) I know what you’re thinking. Wow Messenger! How does a wendigo possess a human? Going back to that whole “spirit that devours mankind” thing, keep that in your mind along with possession. Now, a wendigo is historically associated with cannibalism, murder, insatiable greed, and cultural taboos against such behaviors. Those kind of things might devour your humanity, and if you exhibit such behaviors, you must be possessed by a wendigo! Although they are called the Flesheaters of the Forest for a reason soooo.. devouring is in the literal sense as well.

5) A legit medical condition borrowed the name Wendigo! It’s called Wendigo psychosis. Some psychiatrists consider it a syndrome that creates an intense craving for human flesh and a fear of becoming a cannibal. Ironically, this psychosis occurs in people living around the Great Lakes of Canada and the United States. Wendigo psychosis usually develops in the winter in individuals isolated by heavy snow for long periods. The initial symptoms are poor appetite, nausea, and vomiting. Subsequently, the individual develops a delusion of being transformed into a Wendigo monster. People who have Wendigo psychosis increasingly see others around them as being edible. At the same time, they have an exaggerated fear of becoming cannibals.The most common response when a person showed signs of Wendigo psychosis was a curing attempt by traditional native healers. In past cases, if these attempts failed and the possessed person began to threaten those around them or to act violently or anti-socially, they were executed. There have been reports regarding this psychosis dating back hundreds of years (as far back as 1661).

[sneak-a-cat]

Breaking bad season 1

Episode 1:

imma be honest with you i have seen the first episode before and it was like. aight from what i can remember, but it was a wee while ago

when was this made why does it feel like i can taste the screen with how it looks

2008. yeah that tracks

what a start why is walter not wearing any clothes except for pants??

they have just crashed a car, awesome i love them already

Yo Mr White why do you have hair??

jessie looks half dead this s tragic

"hartwell"? ok mr weird middle name

the weird intro twang is here, we love to hear it

i am enjoying the element puns in the names, i like that they capitalise it properly even at the end of a name

he is 50, amazing

i assure you i would taste the difference in veggie bacon, cholesterol be damned

oh he is teaching... badly?

oh nvm he took fire out quickly to grab attention and changed its colour, awesome

he works two jobs? poor guy... he must be tired

oh no i remember this, he is cleaning cars and his students find out and they make fun of him... :(

Nobody seems to like Walter?? why am i so upset about this??

i can't tell if him and his wife are domestic or like. a weirdly sad

oddest scene with a hand job i have ever seen? i think?

mr coughs a lot cancer boy, please go to the doctor.

oh and he has collapsed nice one

tell your wife you have cancer you idiot

what is his wives name... google help me Skyler aha gotcha

"i said 'fuck you' AND your eyebrows" i love this man he is hilarious and sad like a wet cat

"Cap'n Cook" thats an amazing name

Walter is appalled by the lack of professional decorum by the police force <3 (they were betting on the race of the meth cook)

ok this swat scene is fun... i'm into it, we shall see how fight scenes go

JESSE YAY!!

off he runs, Jesse is free, i love him <333

ok so he is out of school, previous student of Walt, interesting

jesse you are so stupid... he has his car plate as "the cap" or something, you silly guy your name is "Cap'n Cook" you silly silly boy

Skyler writes? that's fun, i hate her sister she can fuck off and die

actors are good, i don't like the characters as intended

walter is stealing supplies you go girl, commit those crimes

aw walter is being a nerd about beakers and flasks <33

he knows his stuff lets go chemistry teacher man

please don't snort chilli powder

"you can dress up like a faggot all you want, not me" bbg, jesse you are giving me some sort of vibe and homophobic was not one of them

"he's just gonna break bad" he said the thing!! yay jesse

jesse is being very reasonable, you do need to discuss why you are doing this with him walter

I like walters kid

ableist assholes in the background can fuck off, little bastards

Walt you go bbg beat their asses, you go girl

i like how Walter Jr just looks hella pleased that his dad just beat them

"cow house?" "yeah where they live? the cows?" amazing interaction, jesse you are so stupid <3

Jesse is horrified by Mr White in his underwear

they are making chemistry seem cool (and not tedious) and showing differences in the characters in a montage, awesome

puppies!

jesse is shit at talking big, jesse is shit at talking in general alright then

Mr White please just bring some clothes to wear dedicated to using in the lab. stop stripping near nude

jesse i love your pathetic ass

he fell over instantly in a chase <3 he is useless <3

chemistry boy just poisoned people you, Yo Mr White your a badass

he is also the sweatiest man in the west

ok i think i'll like the fight scenes and shit, this seems to be banger, we are back at the start of the episode and now we know how we got here, nice i like it

oh jeez walter just tried to commit suicide but safety was on alrighty then

Walter just proper yarfed after being cool and explaining his plan, nice one man

why is there money in the dryer??

episode ended with him having sex with his wife awesome.

[bradshawswife]

Please can you do and imagine loosely based off the song Honky Tonk Badonkadonk by Trace Adkin for a Hangman x y/n imagine because this song is SO him! And i can just see a y/n waitress having to deal with a cocky drunk Jake trying to impress her all the whilst he’s singing this at the top of his lungs for the attention from the reader and others around him, bonus points if his friends back him up too 😂 i love your writing and if you manage to do this i hope it’s fun to write!

HAHAH i love this idea. I hope I did it justice!

Drunk Flirting. J.S

warnings: jake being jake, drunk idiots, country music, suggestive themes (i guess?)

a/n: this was so fucking funny to write. i was constantly laughing my ass off. i must say, basing a one shot on a song is a bit difficult, but i hope i did it right. (i left some of the lyrics out, as they didnt make sense for the fic lol)

While working at The Hard Deck, Y/N was used to arrogant, drunk Naval Aviators, making passes at her. She was very used to Jake “Hangman” Seresin hitting her up every time he stepped foot into The Hard Deck.

Today, after a long day of training, Hangman and his friends made their way into The Hard Deck. While Rooster, Phoenix, and Bob made their way to the pool table, Hangman made his way over to flirt with Y/N, as he usually did.

"Hey sweet girl, can I get 4 beers please" he smirks at you.

Today, you're wearing shorts with a graphic tee tucked into them. Your shorts are on the shorter side, and as much as Hangman wants to think you did this for him, it was simply laundry day for you.

You make your way to the other side of the bar to fill up 4 beers, when Hangman whistles at you. "Are you wearing those for me? Those are some of the shortest shorts I've ever seen." he beamed.

"Yes, Jake. I am 100% wearing these shorts just for you." you laugh, sarcastically, shoving the 4 beers towards him. "Thanks sweetheart" he grinned, turning around and promptly stopped before swinging back around, "they look really good on you, Y/N". he exclaims while throwing a wink at you.

Hustlers shootin' eight ball Throwin' darts at the wall

Rolling your eyes, you watch as the friend group played pool and threw darts occasionally.

A few hours pass by, after many beers and some tequila shots, its safe to say Hangman and the crew are good as done, as they're stumbling over each other. She begins to walk over to the friend group, letting them know you're about to close and that they need to find their rides home, when you hear Hangman and his friends break out into song.

"Here she comes, lord help us all" Rooster sings, slurred.

"Poor ole boy, it aint his fault. It's so hard not to stare" Bob (you're shocked) chimes in.

"At that honky tonk badonkadonk" Hangman screams, staring you up and down. You're so beyond confused at this point and just start laughing to hide your embarrassment as a few bar stragglers have now gathered around you to watch as this drunken friend group is singing the most absurd country song ever.

Your face turns bright red as Hangman grabs your hand and twirls you around.

"Keepin' perfect rhythm, make ya wanna swing along" Phoenix adds in, laughing in between words. Yea, she's extra drunk.

"Got it goin' on, like Donkey Kong" Bob laughs at your bright red face. You're used to only Hangman making passes at you in his friend group, so this whole scene is totally out of the ordinary.

"And whoo-wee, shut my mouth, slap your grandma, there oughta be a law, get the Sheriff on the phone" Rooster laughs, staring at you as you begin to walk away, just beyond embarrassed. You want to go hide in the storage closet until this all blows over. Rooster stands up and drunkenly strides over to stop you.

"Lord have mercy, how'd she even get them britches on that honky tonk badonkadonk" Hangman slurs, giving you a wink. You pull your shorts down a bit more, as if that's going to help anything. Your face is basically the colour of a tomato, and you've never been this flustered at Jakes shenanigans, but today is different.

"Now Honey, you can't blame her" Phoenix sings, smiling as Rooster moves you closer to the group, after you just accepted the fact that they're not going to shut up.

"For what her mama gave her. It ain't right to hate her" Bob smiles, giving you a wink (wow this is totally out of character for bob)

"For workin' that money-maker." Hangman slurs, drunkenly stumbling over to pull you over to the bar.

"We hate to see her go, but love to watch her leave" Rooster yells as you and Hangman make your way to the bar.

Finally, the song seems to end. Your face looks like you've spent all day in the sun. You're nearly shaking as Hangman takes your hand.

"I hope you enjoyed that sweetheart, i love that song" he grins, as you roll your eyes.

"I'm very used to your antics, Jake. I was shocked the rest of your friends chimed in." you sigh. Jake just continues to stare at you, with puppy dog eyes.

"Can I finally take you out?" you chuckle as he says that, like you can't believe he'd have the audacity to push further after THAT.

"You're way too drunk right now. Lets get you and your friends in a cab, and maybe you can ask me next time." you grunt, trying to hold up Hangman as you lead him and his friends out to the cab.

[danses-with-dogmeat]

Hey I love your blog! If it isn’t too much trouble, could you do one of the companions reacting to Sole getting an unsolicited dick pic?

FO4 Companions React to Sole Receiving an Unsolicited Dick Pic

So I know the ask said one of the companions, but I just did 'em all cuz I got carried away (as I always seem to). This was definitely an interesting one to think about, and suuuuper fun to write. Thanks for the ask!

I ended up doing a little scenario at the top that'll apply to all of the reactions, and just kind of give context for the fateful event to take place (since phones/the internet aren't really a canon element in FO, I put this scenario together instead.)

Given the nature of this ask, there's a just bit of NSFW under the cut!

Sole had woken up like any other day. Heading down the stairs of their Diamond City home to make breakfast, trying to be quiet in order to keep from disturbing their companion in the other room. However, as they passed their front door, they noticed something peeking out of the mail slot.

The paper isn't meant to come out until tomorrow...

Curious, Sole reached for the little white square of photo paper, and noticed some writing in the corner. There was an address and the words, "if you like what you see, meet me here tonight," accompanied by a little arrow pointing to flip the photo over. Their intrigue got the better of them, and Sole did as the writing suggested, turning it over for a brief second before immediately regretting it. They recoiled at the phallic image, their surprise evident in the small yelp they uttered in response to the sight before them.

They heard their companion stir from the other room, and then their footsteps sounded from behind as they approached questioningly.

"What have you got there?" They asked.

"Oh, it's nothing," Sole said, turning to face them, "just some mail, is all." Sole's words dripped with distaste, and yet... they felt an overwhelming need to share their unsightly discovery with the person in front of them.

"Wanna see?" They asked, mercilessly turning the picture so their companion could clearly make out the offensive image.

Cait:

*scoffs*

"What, they think that's somethin' te brag about? The damn thing's so wee, I almost couldn't make it out." She'd say with a smile, offering up her hand so she could take the picture and tear it in half. Cait effectively would make the decision for her companion in regards to the comment on the back of the photo. She knows this type of man, and she'd be sure that Sole wouldn't be meeting the asshole anywhere tonight. However, should she be able to sneak away while Sole is sleeping... Cait might just pay a visit to the specified location, where she'd surely give that asshole a piece of her mind, and at least one taste of her fist.

Curie:

Her eyebrows would furrow, and the synth would cock her head to the side in her confusion. Being locked away in a vault with three men for so many years, acting as their doctor, meant she had seen her fair share of the male sex organ. But now, Curie was confused, why did this man feel the need to send Sole a photograph of his penis? Was there something wrong with it? Did he want them to examine it? Sole was not a doctor...

"Why 'ave you received zhis, madame/monsieur? What does zhis man want from you?"

Once Sole explained, Curie would be quite upset by the concept.

"But... you did not ask for zhis, did not want it, and yet, he sent it anyway. Why would you want to meet someone like zhat? It seems very rude to me." She's still confused about it, and may ask a few more questions. Has this happened to Sole before? Does it happen often? Does anyone actually like to see such things when they are unprompted like this? If not, then why do these men continue to do it?

The scientist just wants answers.

Danse:

The soldier would physically recoil at the sight of the photograph, eyebrows raised high as he took in the image, before jerking his head and eyes away from Sole and the picture altogether.

"That-- that is highly inappropriate and an overwhelmingly vile display." He would say once he recovered from his initial shock, still refusing to look back towards Sole, "I suggest you dispose of that filth immediately. Why anyone would reveal themselves in such an unceremonious fashion is beyond me. You would do well to forget such graphic imagery. I know that I will certainly try."

He wouldn't even entertain the idea that Sole would go through with meeting the man behind the picture, but in the off chance that they decided to tell him they wanted to, Danse would spend the remainder of the day convincing them otherwise. He would almost be tempted to go to the location himself in order to lecture the man for his crude and inexcusable behavior, and blatant disrespect to his companion, but in the end, he decides that the man is not worth his time.

Deacon:

Ginger eyebrows would raise slightly over the frames of the glasses for the briefest of moments before he recovered his cool demeanor.

"Ah shoot, did the postman just put it right back into the mail slot? Didn't mean for you to see that, my bad. Here, I'll just deliver it myself."

The sarcasm was evident in his voice as he strode forward and plucked the photo from Sole's hand, examining it for just a moment, and grimacing a bit at the sight.

"Man, Dr. Rich Cockwood does not photograph well. I swear, it's bigger in person." He'd wink at them before glancing down at the picture again, scrutinizing blue eyes pausing to peruse the words on the back as he folded the paper up to put into his pocket. He'd quickly change the subject, trying to keep Sole's mind off the whole thing as he devised a way to sneak out that night and get some intel on the asshole who decided it was a wise idea to put Sole in this position.

Hancock:

*Squints*

"Oh shit. Looks like you've got an admirer there, Sole. " In his sleepy state, it took Hancock a minute to figure out what he was even looking at. Upon realizing that it was, in fact, what he thought it had been, he takes the picture from Sole's grasp and flips it around to glance at the back.

"Look at that, you've even got a date tonight. Must be somewhere romantic, I can tell this guy's old school." He nodded, flipping the photo over to glance once again at the offensive imagery on the front. "Yeah, real traditional, I'd say. Hmm... Mind if I tag along? Could be fun." There was a certain sort of glint in the ghoul's eye that made Sole's spine tingle.

Perhaps neither of us should go... Sole thought, noticing how Hancock's other hand toyed absentmindedly with his combat knife as he furrowed his brows at the photo one last time, before shoving the paper into the pocket of his coat. There was a certain sort of intent behind his actions that made Sole re-think even showing him the image in the first place. Hancock had killed people over less; that, Sole knew for sure.

MacCready:

"Ahh! What the heck are you doing?! I don't need to see that!" He'd squeeze his eyes shut just as soon as he was able to make out the photo, shoving his hands in front of him as though they would be able to push the image out of his mind.

"It's too early for this, what the heck is that guy's problem?" MacCready shuddered as he pulled his hands slowly from where they covered his eyes, glancing quickly at Sole before lowering them down completely, a relieved expression on his face as realized the picture was no longer in his line of sight. Noting his dramatic reaction, Sole considered toying with the mercenary a bit. They asked him what was wrong with the image, stating that perhaps they would pay this man a visit tonight. It had been so long since they had been out on a date, might as well go for it, right?

MacCready's eyes would simultaneously furrow, and widen at their words as he stuttered, finally finding his voice after a moment of shocked, choked silence.

"What?!" He exclaimed, "You're not seriously thinking of going, are you? That guy seems like such an ass-- Well, he just-- I mean..." He took a breath, and Sole had to bite their lip to hold back their grin. "Look, not that it's really any of my business or anything, but... don't you think you could do better than that guy? Like... a lot better?"

Sole couldn't hold back their grin any longer, but MacCready wouldn't meet their gaze. Instead he looked down at the floor, rubbing at the back of his neck with one hand, a nearly unnoticeable blush spreading over his cheeks.

"That guy just seems like a real jerk, and you? Well... Yeah, you deserve better than that, I think." He finished rather awkwardly, finally looking up to meet Sole's gaze before returning their coy smile.

Nick:

The synth would a have a brief moment of raised eyebrows as he took in the details of the photograph, and then the inevitable scowl of disappointment would spread across his face.

"You know, you'd think this guy would understand that no one in their right mind wants to see that particular... angle. You don't think that's his good side, do ya?" Sole would smile a bit at that, and as the synth turned to walk away from the offensive image, they told him about the writing on the back.

"Hey now, wait a minute. You're not thinking of paying this guy a visit, are ya? If so, that's a pretty poor decision on your part, I think."

Sole would shake their head, telling Nick not to worry as he fixed his inquiring yellow gaze on them. He nodded in response, seeming satisfied by their answer. In the next moment, a thought seemed to claim his attention.

"Hmm... I think I might just know the perp, actually. Ellie's got a few reports back at the office mentioning some similar events. Guess it's possibly one of the guards on night duty who goes around with these to see if he gets any takers."

Sole almost spoke up, but as they opened their mouth, Nick's words seemed to take their idea straight from their head. "On second thought..." He said, "You got any plans for this evening?"

Piper:

"Ahh! Blue! Why would you show me that!?" She'd physically cover her eyes with her hands, taking a few steps back and away from the picture for good measure.

"Look, I don't care what you do with it," she'd tell them, "just don't let me see it again!"

Sole would thankfully oblige, but before disposing of the image, they showed Piper the writing on the back. At the sight of the man's suggestion, Piper snatched the photo from Sole's hand, glaring at it furiously.

"Ohhhh no he doesn't. If he's sent crap like this to anybody else, I'm going to make sure no one falls for this."

And Piper kept her word, as the next morning's addition of Publik Occurrences contained a small piece written on exactly this subject, titled: To the Asshole who sent the Sad Little Picture to a Disgusted Citizen; No One Wants to See That! Sincerely, Everyone who has.

Preston:

"O-- oh! Um, that's-- okay. That's just wrong. Do you want me to get rid of it for you?"

Preston's face would wrinkle up in his clear distaste before bringing a a hand up to shield his eyes. When Sole had lowered the picture, he removed his hand, and looked them in the eye, refusing to pay the photo any more attention, but extending his hand out to take it from them so he could dispose of it properly.

"Are you... okay? I can't believe how rude some people are. Who would want to see that?" He'd flash a sympathetic smile at them, as he folded up the photo and prepared to throw it away. He didn't read the back himself, but if they told him about the words that were written there, he wouldn't even entertain the idea of Sole going, just shaking his head in disappointment at the man's poor and rude way of trying in vain to woo his General.

"Some people... The nerve. If you don't mind me saying, General, you deserve much better than that anyway."

X6-88:

His eyes would be locked to Sole's, but as they presented the photo to him, his gaze would fall to the image, and an ever so slight furrowing of his brows would take place above his silver eyes. A brief moment would pass, and X6's gaze would be back on his companion's face.

"Ma'am/ sir, why did you feel the need to show me this?" He's also quite confused, this was not a common occurrence in the Institute, and once Sole gave him an explanation, his expression would remain blank. For the most part, anyway. A small huff of laughter would escape him, prompting Sole to be the one giving him the questioning look now.

"If this filthy wastelander believes he can disrespect the future director of the Institute without facing consequences, he is sorely mistaken." He said, his gaze unbroken as he made Sole this promise, "Don't worry, I will take care of this filth at the specified meeting time and location. You will not hear from him again."

He doesn't necessarily intend to kill the man for his unseemly behavior; X6 is a courser after all, and he knew this man would be scared shitless if X6 were to so much as look at him the wrong way, but should the man make any... poor decisions in response to the courser's confrontation, well... certainly X6 can't be held responsible for the behavior, or the fate, of a mere stranger now, could he? Especially after his heinous actions.

[celemee]

.....please design an over the top Finnish character for Dragon Age. Please. A list of details or a drawing, or drabble. Anything.

OH MY GOD???? Enter Raimo Häkkinen, a modern man thrown into Kirkwall.

For @dadrunkwriting

-----

Finland has won the World Championship in ice hockey. Again. It was no surprise to Raimo, who's had a lifelong passion for the game; he could tell this year's team had a real chance. Of course, it didn't need to be a surprise; he'd celebrated until the wee hours of the morning... a decision he kind of regrets now as he opens his bleary eyes.

...häh?

He's woken up in some pretty weird places before, but this room takes the cake. This place makes his grandmother's cabin in the woods of Lappeenranta look downright modern. The morning light is spilling out of the windows, which is nice, cos he can't for the life of him find a light switch in the room. Just a lonesome stub of a candle.

He locates his Suomi-scarf, however, and that's the important thing. How else would he display his love of the game?

Reaching for it and taking a seat at the edge of the bed, he waits out the spinning in his head and heads outside. Taking a little bit of support from the wall, he carefully advances in the corridor.

The clinking of glasses reaches his ears. Well, that's a sound he knows. This must be a bar of sorts.

When he finally reaches the stairs, a weird sight greets him. There's people, but they're... different. One guy sitting next to a fireplace with writing equipment seems really short. Really, really short. Some folks have elongated ears and weirdly slim bodies.

Oh no... he must be in Sweden.

"SUOMI!" he bellows out in support of the Finnish hockey team, knowing it'll irk the pesky Swedes, but gains weirded-out looks instead. To rub salt on their wounds, he adds; "Den glider in!"

Yes, it's a joke from the 90s — the Finns stealing the Swedish pre-recorded celebration song that the poor bastards never got to use, because they lost to Finland, hah! — but most of the patrons look old enough to remember.

It doesn't get the expected result, however. Raimo clears his throat and descends the stairs, unerringly finding the counter. He orders a pint with his best approximation of English, and while the bartender doesn't look like he understands, he serves Raimo anyway.

No harm in celebrating a bit longer. It's only a once-a-year thing, anyway.

A very fine-looking and scantily clad woman enters the building, taking her place close to Raimo.

"Laitappa yks tolle likallekin," Raimo tells the bartender, only afterwards realising it came out in Finnish. "One for the girl," he explains, pointing at his own pint and then at the girl.

"Isabela. And I'm perfectly fine paying for my own drink."

That was a lot of words... Raimo tilts his head at the lady, trying to piece it all together. Somehow, he manages, and soon enough he's telling her all about the final game that took place last night. She admits to knowing nothing about it, but humours him and keeps the conversation going, even if the guy's accent is hard to understand.

Perhaps it's the fact that Raimo isn't an actual arsehole, or perhaps it's because he's a weird little guy who seems pretty lost, Isabela offers him a deckhand position on her ship.

Raimo accepts gleefully, even if it means he has to work with Swedish sailors. His grandmother always said he should go out and see the world while he's still young and he's pretty sure this counts.

Besides, it's a full year until the next Championship. He's in no rush to leave.

[spideyspeaches]

Sweet child ‘o mine ↬ a.r

sweet smily babie

A/N: Requests are open btw! I love writing Arvin and I don’t have any arvin requests so you can request for arvin btw :) 

Request by @kelieah​ : okay okay. let's get to it hehe. arvin right? oh my god you should write a dad!arvin 🥺🥺🥺 and reader is pregnant but he's like super protective and lowkey a wreck bc he doesn't know what he's doing? and reader is probably really close to popping the baby? up to you, can't wait to see what you write! :)

Kk so I went a little overboard with the fluff XD 

WC: 1.3k+ 

Pairing: Dad!Arvin Russell x Pregnant!Reader

Masterlist || Taglist 

Arvin was a protector by nature. He protected all the people he loved, whether it be his late sister, or his girlfriend, now wife and a mother of two. Before you had your first child, Arvin would constantly hover around you till it annoyed you to the point where you would sleep in a separate room.

("Hun don't lift those! You'll hurt the baby!" Arvin shrieked, rushing towards you as you held the shopping bag in your hand with an amused and angry expression. 

You were nearly six weeks pregnant, nowhere near your due date, and yet here you were.

"Arvin, this is one single shopping bag."

"Yes but you shouldn't! I saw what happened to the neighbour's wife when she tried to lift 'er bed!" 

"Arvin…" you said, tapping your foot impatiently, dropping the shopping bag near your couch.

He was looking at you with a worried expression. You didn't give him time to answer, instead pulling him for a deep kiss. 

And what if you were with a child? You were still horny and he was right there looking like a snack.) 

You found the protectiveness endearing, especially watching his gruff exterior cut through like a knife. But you were pregnant and you were grumpy, sick of his overbearing attitude and had finally asked him to leave you alone for two seconds, maybe have a cigarette or two. The poor guy had looked heartbroken that day, just enough for guilt to brew in your heart, but you stood your ground. 

That day also happened to be the day your first child, Willy, was born. You had convinced yourself that you would never witness such a site as of your husband holding your firstborn with utmost care and love radiating through his every pore, bobbing the baby’s little head as he hummed some lullaby, his soft voice lulling your tired form to sleep. 

“Mummy why is daddy walkin’ like that?” Your four year old son asked, looking at you with his daddy’s big doe eyes, making you coo at his adorable expression. 

You were sitting on the couch, nine months with your second child, way past your due date as your son sat besides you, a hand on your rounded belly, smoothing down your dress and “talking” to his brother. You found it cute, already feeling the love the little child was going to get from the second smallest member of the Russell family. 

You watched in amusement as Arvin paced the hallway, burning a hole in the rugs as he ran a hand through his hair, messing them up as he cursed softly. He had been like that from the day your second child was about to arrive, only for them to want to stay a little longer in your belly. 

"Honey you're gonna bear a hole in there." You said, burrowing your brows as he looked at you. He was a wreck, you could see it in how he tried to work two jobs, only to meet you when you were back in bed. 

“Daddy’s a little tense right now hun, he’s… he’s worried why the baby hasn’t come to us yet.” You said, caressing Willy’s head as he snuggled next to you, nodding with a faux serious expression. 

“Maybe the babe feels safer in your belly moma, it must feel very much loved.” He said with a toothy grin, bumping his nose to your bump as you laughed, hugging your little boy closer to you, tickling his sides, He shrieked with laughter as you bent down as much as you could to kiss his forehead.

“Well the little bugger has been kicking moma for a while now, I think he really wants to come, just findin’ it a wee difficult.” You said, hissing as you felt another kick under your ribs. Massaging the area just like the way your midwife had told you to. You sent your son a wink, hoping that he wouldn’t get too scared at your state. He, like his father, was also very protective of you and the baby.

Hissing at another contraction, you tried to do your breathing exercise, groaning at the pain you felt. 

“Daddy! Daddy moma is hurt!” Willy shouted, getting off the couch and running off to where Arvin had been pacing the room.

“No no no hun! Moma is alright, just a little- oh oh Arvin!” You groaned, stretching your husband's name at a painful contraction as you watch him frantically run towards you, stumbling at the carpet and falling on his knees in front of you.

“Hun? Baby speak to me, how far apart are the pains? Do you think it’s time? Should I-”

“Arvin?” You winced, holding your belly.

“Yes honey?”

“Shut the fuck up and do me a favour, get the bag ready will ya?” You said, clenching your jaw as tightly as you could without breaking your teeth, immediately feeling guilty at his crestfallen expression. He was only trying to help you.

“Yes, yes sweetheart, I'll be right back.” He said, scramming to go to your room to get the bag. You knew he had already packed it, unpacked and repacked it multiple times to keep his mind of the calendar. 

“Moma? Are you hurtin’?” You son asked, hearing a sniff. You sighed as you saw tears form in his eyes, running your hands through his hair as he sniffed loudly. 

“No bun, it’s nothing bad, moma’s fine. I swear.” 

“But you’re crying!” He cried out, launching himself on your chest. You sat down with a “oof”, the weight of your son sending you on your back sprawling on the couch.

“Willy! Be careful!” Arvin shouted, pulling your crying son off of you and palming his head as he buried his face into his father’s shoulder, wrapping his little arms around his neck as Arvin cooed at him, trying to shush his muffled cries. 

“It’s gonna be alright bubby, I’m not crying anymore, see?” You gritted, groaning loudly when you felt one resonate to your back, a pop sound startling you enough to widen your eyes.

A breath later, the only thing you could hear was your son’s sniffs and your breathing, the wetness between your thighs amplifying as you gave a loud groan, groping for your husband’s biceps, “It’s happening!” 

“Oh- oh fuck shit, sorry hun, Willy, do daddy a favor and open the car will you? We need to take moma to the hospital.” Arvin instructed your son, who obediently nodded, a determined expression taking over his adorable face as he ran outside. 

“Arvin!”

“Comin’ sweetheart, just a minute!” He grunted, positioning himself by your side, sliding his one hand under your knees and another at your back, You shrieked as he carried you bridal style, your son holding the door open for you.

You would have called the ride torturous had you not heard the shrill cries of your newborn, squishy wet cheeks and scrunched eyes fitted in the palm of your hands a few hours later. Laughing near hysterically, you gently rocked the newly swaddled baby boy in your arms, looking at your husband’s shiny eyes as he carefully touched the baby’s forehead. 

“He’s so tiny.” Arvin whispered, rubbing his thumb on the soft skin, watching in awe as the baby yawned, the little eyes scrunching up as they slowly opened, adjusting around the world in a newfound wonder. 

“He’s perfect.” You smiled, seeing your four year old hiding behind Arvin’s legs, watching you unsure of himself, “Come here bun, want to hold your brother?”

“I can hold him?” He asked, peaking at you through his eyelashes.

“Of course you can son.” Arvin chuckled, lifting the toddler as he sat on your bed, looking at you with wide eyes. 

"Here, hold his head, careful." You whispered, holding one hand on your older son's hands, guiding him to hold his little brother as he looked at the baby in wonder. 

"He's tiny!" Willy said, mimicking you when he saw you holding the baby. 

"You were this tiny too once, son." Arvin said, smiling at you and Willy. 

"No way! I'm a big boy." Willy argued, pouting, which made you and your husband laugh.

"Whatever you say baby."

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2021 | Day 1: Fallen!Cas

In A Fortress of Pine Trees | @mistofstars Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,380 Main Tags/Warnings: Endverse, Croatoan, 2014, 5x04, Smut, bottom!Dean, Angst, Top!Cas Summary: Future!Dean / Future!Castiel "Cas", he finally exhales. "I could need one of your amazing hippie massages right now" -it starts with a simple massage and ends somewhere else; Dean gives in to long neglected needs... DESTIEL in 2014

The Warmth of your skin | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,414 Main Tags/Warnings: Sharing Body Heat, Hurt!Cas, First Kiss, Naked Cuddling, Sharing a Bed, no explicit sex, human!Cas Summary: Dean and Castiel are in the middle of a forest, when a snowstorm surprises them in the middle of the summer. To make their luck perfect, Castiel breaks into the ice of a lake. There is only one way to survive this cold. Body Heat.

Are We Human? | @one-more-offbeat-anthem

Rating: General Word Count: 3,766 Main Tags/Warnings: human!/fallen!Castiel, first kiss, love confessions, pet cats Summary: After losing his grace, Cas struggles with being human. Dean tries to help him out—and in showing the former angel how to find joy in the little things, starts to find joy himself (if he's brave enough to reach for it). And also discovers that maybe cats aren't so bad.

The End Of The Beginning | @vampamber

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3,885 Main Tags/Warnings: ABO, omega Dean, alpha Cas, endverse, endverse Cas, heat, pwp, S5E4 The End, there's a sequel Summary: He just wished that Zach-y boy had picked a better time. Dean could feel those deep seated aches in his abdomen that could only mean he was a day or so away from his damn heat starting. Hopefully he could learn his little lesson before he had to lock himself away for a few days to keep himself from presenting to every damn alpha in a five mile radius. He usually took suppressants, but dealing with Lucifer had kind of taken front seat just long enough for Dean to miss a few too many doses. “Damn it,” he muttered to himself as he rubbed at his wrists, finally free. He wandered out to see where the hell he was. It was an old summer camp, that much he could tell, but that was about it. But as weird as all this was, as unreal and impossible as it had to be, the most mind blowing part was definitely Cas. Fuzzy, stoned out of his gourd, sex guru to a gathering of betas and omegas Cas. Cas, who smelled so strongly of alpha and everything that Dean had ever wanted that he had to shift himself when the guy wasn't looking to try and hide the quickly growing erection in his pants, praying that he wouldn't slick right through his jeans.

Finally Realized | @vampamber

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,018 Main Tags/Warnings: ABO, alpha Cas, omega Dean, Dean in heat, human Cas, first time, porn with plot Summary: Dean is sick in bed, so Sam calls in a now-human Cas to come and take care of the cranky patient while he escapes goes on a hunt. Dean cooperates with Cas, but it just figures, when the cold is finally gone, his heat takes its place. Now denial stops being an options as Dean begs Cas for the thing he's always wanted, but could never admit to.

Sweet Cherry Pie | @imbiowaresbitch

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,801 Main Tags/Warnings: No archive warnings apply, first kiss, first time, friends to lovers, top dean/bottom cas Summary: Dean takes the newly-human Cas to a diner to try some new foods. Cas wants more than a taste.

Tick Tock Goes The Clock | @vampamber

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 5,784 Main Tags/Warnings: ABO, omega Dean, alpha Cas, human Cas, alcohol as a coping mechanism, implied mpreg, angst, porn with plot, drunken confessions, drunken sex Summary: It was a well known fact that every omega had a metaphorical biological clock ticking away inside of them, just waiting to spring the alarm and make the poor guy or girl go just a wee bit baby crazy. And as much as Dean Winchester tried to deny it, mostly to himself, the one inside him was gonna blow at any second. Even though Dean would never admit it to anybody, especially his brother, he had always felt pretty maternal towards Lisa's son, Ben. He’d always wanted a nice, big family with plenty of pups of his own, ever since he had presented as an omega as a teenager. At least, whenever John hadn't been pressuring him to act like the alpha his dad thought he should've been, that is. It had only gotten worse when Sam presented as a beta, so Dean had shoved that dream so far back in his mind that he completely forgot about it ninety-five percent of the time. That was exactly why the omega knew that his biological clock was gonna kick his ass any day now. Where he used to mostly forget about the idea of having a bunch of pups, it was now taking up the vast majority of his thoughts lately.

I Been Blind | @jemariel

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 22,387 Main Tags/Warnings: Human!Cas, porn-watching, masturbation, mutual pining, porn with feelings, suggestion of m/f and m/m/f sex (in porn), oral sex, frottage, anal fingering, suggestion of bottom!Cas. Summary: Castiel is in love with humanity. At least, so long as he's not the one experiencing it. A lighthearted smutty romp wherein Dean helps Cas navigate the tricky minefield of human needs.

Roaming in the Dark (WIP) | @casbelieves

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 24,624 Main Tags/Warnings: Major Character Death, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Drug Addiction, Explicit Sexual Content, Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse, Bottom!Cas, Top!Dean, Heavy Angst, Smut, Fallen Angels, Apocalypse, Croatoan Virus, Canonverse, Minor Character Death Summary: A reimagined look into how "The End" came to be. Castiel does not return to heaven after he rescues Dean from his stint in an apocalyptical 2014. The brothers don't reunite. The angels do fall. A dangerous and deadly virus spreads worldwide. But, without fail, Castiel follows Dean and, perhaps, that is his only fault.

Room A Thousand Years Wide | @mittensmorgul

Rating: Mature Word Count: 34,921 Main Tags/Warnings: Case Fic, Getting Together, Long-Suffering Sam Winchester Summary: Once the world and their lives are finally their own, and Cas has chosen humanity once and for all, he begins to find a new routine of daily life with Dean. Sam doesn't know how much longer he can take their apparently oblivious platonic domesticity, when their regularly scheduled evening goes out the window with a single text message from someone they never expected to hear from again. Ex-Ghostfacer Ed Zeddmore is afraid he's stumbled over something too big to let slide, and sends them a link to a potentially dangerous Ghostfacer wannabe, and a case that isn't at all what it appears to be on the surface. What they uncover dredges up a lot of interesting feelings all around, and they must finally face a few ghosts of their own.

Empty Spaces | @thisisapaige

Rating: Mature Word Count: 48,411 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst, Drug Use, Drug Abuse, Drug Withdrawl, Fallen Castiel, Pre-series Dean, Canonverse, Internalized Biphobia, Slow Burn, Canon-Typical Violence, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort Summary: [Castiel] found the colour. It was a green, one of the few gentle colours at the edges of his dreams and the one he tried to capture in his paintings, never quite finding the right hue. He spent so long chasing the colours, trying to find it though pills and needles, but they always evaded his grasp. Yet he found one, right here, hiding in the eyes of a stranger. He studied the colour, the subtle differences between dark and light, the little flecks of gold nearly hidden in the sea of green, the ring around the outside. He studied it, trying to commit the colour to memory. The other man cleared his throat. “Uh, dude?” Oh. Castiel forgot the colour was attached to a person. ~~~ What if Castiel had fallen before the start of the series and met Dean on a routine hunt? Set in the spring before Dean goes to find Sam in Stanford.

Gates of Bronze and Bars of Iron | iCeDreams (AO3)

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 80,466 Main Tags/Warnings: Season 9 Divergent, Dean in Heaven Summary: Dean realizes that staying in Heaven and catching endless fish isn't living up to its hype. Especially since the gates of Heaven are still closed and there are no angels to guide you in the hereafter. Castiel is surviving Earth, fallen and human until a reaper brings his attention to a hunt forcing him to seek out his fallen brothers.

[moralesispunk]

Standing up for their daughter

For Frankie Morales, Din Djarin, Marcus Moreno, Pero Tovar and Marcus Pike

x Female Reader (established relationship with child)

based on this post I made the other day (it was quite long so I did it with fewer characters but if you want me to do another with others then I can do a part II!)

Frankie 

You were at work when Frankie got the call into school because your daughter had been “violent” with another pupil. Frankie’s head was racing the whole drive there, wondering what had happened and hoping his baby girl was okay but ready to give her into trouble if need be. When he walked into the principals office, she were sitting on one of the chairs in front of the desk, an empty one next to her for him. She started to talk but he silently told her to wait, looking to the principal and asking what had happened.

“Your daughter pushed Alexander over in the playground today. The poor boy has cut all down his leg.”

Frankie looked at his little girl, waiting for an explanation to this from his usually quiet and peaceful daughter.

“He was pulling my hair dad! He chased me around the playground and didn’t stop pulling my hair even though I asked him to stop!”

Frankie was angry but managed to keep it inside as he turned back around to the principal.

“And what is happening to Alexander?”

“Well, he is fine the nurse had a look at-”

“No. What punishment is he receiving for tormenting my daughter?”

“You know what boys are like, he was just teasing her. Probably means he likes her. There was no need for your daughter to get that violent with him.”

“I am going to take my daughter out of school for the rest of the day and my wife can come back and talk to you tomorrow because I don’t trust my temper right now,” Frankie said calmly, “that boy needs punished for the way he treated my daughter and she should not be punished for defending herself. I suggest you have a think about that before you talk to the boys parents and before you try and give my daughter into trouble again. Let’s go, honey.”

Frankie took your daughter’s hand, walking with her out of the office. On the way the by the boy and his parents Frankie hands his daughter the keys to his truck and tells her he’ll be there soon. When she is out of sight he turns to the parents, telling them teach your boy some manners, my daughter expects a full apology before walking off again. He takes her out for ice cream, telling her that while he doesn’t condone violence she was right not to let him continue to act like that. That night the boy and his parents arrive at the door, a full apology given from him to your wee girl.

Din 

Your youngest daughter came and found Din, saying the oldest had been in a fight with one of the boys in the covert. Din took her hand, letting her lead the way to the circle of children that had formed. A boy he had recognised from around the covert was lying on the ground, his daughter standing over him with her arms crossed.

"Alright, enough,” Din walked through the sea of tiny bodies that started to run off in different directions when he arrived, “what happened?”

Just as Din placed his hands on his hips, waiting for an explanation, the boys father arrived.

“He kept pinching me, he wouldn’t stop and so I made him stop,” your oldest daughter shrugged.

“Ah, he was just teasing,” the other Mando helped his son up.

“He wasn’t teasing!” you daughter sighed, exasperated. 

Din turned his helmet to his daughter, warning her to stay quiet as he dealt with the situation.

“He must have a liking for your girl, Mando! You remember what it was like,” the other man reached over and placed a hand on Din’s shoulder.

“No. Teach your son some manners or I’ll teach my daughter to hit him back harder next time,” Din said simply, his hand still holding onto the hand of your youngest and the other reaching our for your oldest. 

The man and his son stared silently as Din walked off with his two girls, waiting until they were round the corner to ruffle your oldest hair. 

“I think I hurt my hand when I punched him,” your daughter shook the pain out.

“Well I guess we better take tomorrow to perfect your punch,” he said, the smile in his voice clear.

Marcus M

When he gets a phone call at work from Missy’s school his mind is in instant panic mode and that panic doesn’t settle by much when he is told by Missy’s teacher that she punched a boy. Marcus excuses himself from work and heads straight to the school, walking straight to the principals office. Missy is sitting in the corner on a chair, obviously upset and next to a boy holding an ice pack to his face, with the parent’s mother and the principal watching him as he walks in.

“Thank you for coming Mr Moreno. I’m sure you are as surprised as we are with this, Missy is usually a very quiet but polite girl,” the principal began.

Marcus nodded, waiting for him to continue.   

“Missy will be suspended of course, for this unprovoked attack on another student, and will be expected to write an essay on her actions.”

“Is this true Missy?” Marcus turned and looked at his daughter.

“I did punch him yes,” Missy began and Marcus sighed, “but only because he kept pulling my hair in class and pinching my arm. I told him to stop and he didn’t. I told my teacher and she said to ignore him but he kept doing it. I told him if he did it again I would punch him. He did and so I punched him.”

Marcus kept his face straight and stern, something he had learned from Heroic training and turned back to the principal.

“Well, from what I see, Missy gave him fair warning,” Marcus kept his tone neutral.

“Mr Moreno,” the principal sighed.

“She hit my son!” the woman next to him screeched.

“And your son pulled my daughter’s hair and pinched her,” Marcus raised his eyebrow, “I am not happy with my daughter raising her hands in a classroom and we will have a talk, but unless this boy is also being suspended and writing an essay on his actions and his mother is prepared to talk with him about his disgusting manners then Missy will be in school, 9am sharp tomorrow.”

The principal and mother stared at Marcus mouth agape for a moment before nodding.

“They can both be in school tomorrow,” the principal sighed.

“And I am prepared to come in and teach the young boys of this school a lesson on what no means, as it seems the school and parents are not teaching them an important lesson. Let’s go Missy,” Marcus stood and waited for Missy to follow him out.

And that is exactly what Marcus did. Missy was at school the next day, head held high after the both of you made her feel better about the situation, and two days later Marcus gave a lesson to the whole school on no means no.

Pero

Pero took your and his baby girl with him to the market to give you some much needed alone time. As he wandered around the stalls he had his large hand wrapped around her small one to keep her close, ruffling her hair and sending funny faces her way whenever they had to queue for meat or vegetables. When he turned to face the butcher to pay him with coins, he heard a fuss behind him but ignored it until his baby girl yelped and there was a thud on the ground.

His head whizzed around and he seen his little girl holding onto the back of his tunic and a boy a little bigger than her on the ground.

“She pushed me!” the little boy whined.

“He pulled my hair first!” your baby girl explained.

“Sounds like you learned your lesson, don’t annoy little girls or they’ll hit back,” Pero chuckled at the boy, lifting the meat he had just bought from the counter and walking with his little girl in his hand away from the stall, “very good, my love.”

Marcus P

Marcus was always a favourite with the mums at birthday parties and you always joked you shouldn’t send him alone. This week there was a birthday party of another girl in your daughters class and since you had a day out with your friends planned, Marcus would take her. When he showed up, the back-garden was full of children screaming and bouncing on the bouncy castle, all the mums and one other dad standing about the kitchen.

He was talking to the other dad when all the parents attentions were grabbed by a yelp coming from the bouncy castle. One of the wee boys was sitting in the middle, looking up at your daughter as everyone else jumped up and down.

Marcus and the other man left the kitchen, walking over to see what was going on.

“She pushed me down!” the boy shouted to his dad.

“He kept pulling on my hair!”

The man next to Marcus chuckled and Marcus shot him a glare as he lifted his daughter from the bouncy castle.

“Looks like someone has a crush.”

“Looks like someone needs to be taught some manners,” Marcus shot back, carrying his daughter into the kitchen for a drink leaving the other man and his son staring as they walked away.

If the rest of the mums didn’t find your husband attractive before then they sure did now, all of them saying a chorus of someone had to tell him, and he lets his son get away with that with all our daughters but we never knew what to say. After this catch Marcus having a strong one-on-one chat with the man later telling him to teach his son not to bother little girls like that or he will become a dangerous young man.

//

Permanent tag list // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog @spideysimpossiblegirl @blackmarketmummy @bison-writes @dihra-vesa @evyiione

[verecunda]

Leithian: An Incoherent Reaction Post (Act II)

Back by not at all popular demand, the second part of my LOL reaction post. A week after the fact, admittedly, because my brain has just been doing elevator music all week, but for the sake of completeness if nothing else, see below!

(Act I)

- I like how we have Lúthien rocking back and forth, unable to stay still. Big fan of how expressive she is in general. Given that’s she’s supposed to be objectively the Most Beautiful of the Children of Ilúvatar™, it would have been too easy to make her just this figure of porcelain perfection, which would be boring (and, I would argue, uncanonical).

- oh geez, not Daeron again. Give it up, mate, your princessa is very much in another castle.

- Day 8, and I’m still not over Celegorm and Curufin. I WILL NEVER BE OVER THIS. The chest bump!! The cheery wee wave Celegorm(?) gives her before they fuck off!! I’m still crying. X’D (If the Silmarillion is the history as written by the Noldor, this show must be the history as written by the Sindar. Or the people of Nargothrond. XD)

- Oh great. As if that wasn’t humiliating enough, she gets rescued by a furry. I KID, I KID. Huan is a certified Good Boy. <3

- That wee look Lúthien and Huan share before they run off, the way it’s timed to the music... it makes me giggle a lot. :)

- ...yeah, I think this must be just about the moment that Celebrimbor decided he was now an orphan. XD

Meanwhile, in the Pit of Despair...

- Finrod’s fight with the werewolf is awesome, and I really, really like how, although there is music, there’s no singing. As if his powers of song have been utterly depleted, and the only weapons left to him now are his bare hands. *___*

- er... Beren... you know you can step in here at any time, pal...

- Shit, the second half really is just filled with music designed to get the blood pumping, isn’t it? 8D

- “I look out of the window at your beauty.”    “No one’s allowed to be prettier than me in my own fortress!” >:(

- HUAN BEST BOY ❤️

- RIP Finrod, we hardly knew ye. :’( 

- Honestly, I reckon they could have done so much more with the Angband sequence. They should have made an absolute MEAL out of it. I’d especially have liked some interplay between Lúthien and Morgoth, let him get his creep on before she sends him to sleep. Let me share in the satisfaction of him being so utterly humiliated!

- A very lovely song, completely ruined by me going “SLEEEP!” à la MST3K every minute or so. XD

- Bet Melkor’s really regretting having those sycophantic backing singers installed right now...

- Back in Doriath, we see that Thingol has very obviously been sleeping on the couch recently.

- Beren like “Hey-hop! I’m back with a source of neverending dad jokes!” :D

- ps. please, please, someone, let this poor lad clean that blood off his face, it’s driving me daft. XD

- Anyway, I don’t care what the rest of fandom says, I love Thingol. The way he comes striding back on stage, having swapped his kingly robe for his form-fitting trousers o’ wolf-slaying, HEY-HOP-ping along with Beren... WE STAN.

- Speaking of stanning, I'm pretty sure I actually went “yesssss” aloud the first time I got to Melian’s song about the hunt. Like, damn, that is an INTRO. Also - sleeves. *___*

- h-hey... hop...? 😭

- Mandos has such a... swishy quality, I can’t describe it. Good for him.

- All my smart-arse remarks and crap jokes stop here, btw. I have nothing but feels.

- Possibly a result of me spending the best part of the week before last being emotional over the Athrabeth, but quite a few lines here put me in mind of Aegnor. “Even death will not spare me from the loss.” “What need have I of immortal Valinor/If Beren is not by my side?” Also “Even a day can be compared with immortality” has dim echoes of Andreth’s “For one year, one day, of the flame I would have given all...”

(You know, just in case you weren’t crying enough.)

- waaaaugh, her voice. Actual tears in my eyes.

- He’s baaaaaack!!! (I half-expected him to give the world’s softest “hey-hop” XD)

- First time I saw this, I thought they should have had another scene to follow the book, with them returning to Doriath, Lúthien healing the winter of Thingol’s grief, the bittersweetness of Melian’s realisation, before the two of them head off for their new life together, but the actual ending, still in Mandos, has grown on me. I rewatched it just there and realised I was on the verge of crying. What do you other LOL nuts think?

- Curtain call! I LOVE EVERYONE IN THIS BAR. Carcharoth and Huan are both very good boys. <3 asdfhjl C&C did another chest-bump!! X’D I see you twirling there, Finrod! There is something absurdly charming about seeing Morgoth holding a bunch of flowers. Enjoy your flowers, big fella, you’ve had a rough day. <3

So, yeah, I’m absolutely in love with this wee show and everyone in it. 💖 Hopefully one day I’ll make it to a livestream so I can AAAAAAAA along with the rest of you!

[yournotsolocalcryptid]

Just Someone You Used to Know

part 1/? | from this ask

NEXT (Lost In Thought and Lost In Time)

Summary: Your childhood friend Billy (whom you thought was dead) turns up at a hospital and you get a call about it.

pairing(s): Billy/Four x Gender Neutral!Reader

Warnings/authors notes: the request was for Hurt/comfort and while there's not a ton of that in this chapter there will be elements of it and also a lot of other things. angst, fluff, a lot of emotions going on here. swearing. poor writing skills, barely proofread/edited. this will be a multi-part fic, tho I don't know how many yet.

word count: 2.3k

Your phone lit up with a call from an unknown number which you promptly ignored and continued with your day as you figured If it was important they’d leave a message, which they did. When you had a free moment you grabbed your phone clicked on the message.

“Hello, is this Y/N?” said a voice you didn't recognize “I’m a nurse and a man was just brought in having sustained some injuries. when we asked him if there was anyone we could call to be with him he said your first name and listed this number. He had no forms of identification but he said his name was Billy.”

This made you stop cold. The nurse continued but you weren’t quite hearing what she said. Your mind was reeling. Billy? Your Billy? Surely not, you must’ve misheard or maybe the nurse did, or maybe the nurse misspoke and had really said “willy” or the man just spouted random numbers in a delirium caused by his injuries that happened to make up your number. That must be it because Billy is dead. Your Billy died several years ago. You attended his funeral and had mourned him with your whole being every day since.

You relistened to the voicemail to clarify you hadn’t misunderstood and there it was clear as day Billy. You ran a hand over your face and tried to focus as the voice continued, stating the name and address of there they were as well as what floor and wing of the hospital which you wrote down. You stared at the address. The rational part of you said not to go. Not to get your hopes up because Billy will not be there. Billy is in the cemetery a few miles from where you were and yet... and yet everything else in you was screaming at you to go. You knew he wouldn’t be there and you’d be heartbroken all over again but there was a man, an injured man who may not be your Billy but who needed someone nonetheless. After staring at the address for what felt like an eternity you stood abruptly, put your shoes on, grabbed your things and swept out the door.

When you arrived at the hospital you went to the desk in the correct wing and on the correct floor (you triple-checked) you stated your name and explained how you got a call about a man named Billy. The woman at the desk checked a few things and clarified your name before directing you to the waiting room. You made your way to a chair and sat on the edge of it bouncing your leg and fiddling with your fingers. You were anxious, very anxious, and your mind was racing. After a few minutes, a nurse walked in and called your name, you stood and went to her. She leads you down a hallway and stopped outside a room.

She turned to you and said, “He has a fractured wrist, face lacerations, lots of bruising, and we had to take him to surgery to stop some internal bleeding. He’s probably still asleep from the procedure but he should be all right and should no complications arise he should be about to go home within the next few days” you nodded, your eyebrows knitted together “would you like me to come in with you?” she asked and you shook your head, no. she nodded briefly and said, “I’ll be at the nurse’s station we just passed should you need anything and please press the ‘call nurse’ button when he wakes up” then she smiled warmly and went on her way.

You turned to face the door and placed a shaking hand on the handle. You took a deep breath and opened the door.

The first thing you saw when you opened the door was the beautiful blond man you’d once known lying in the hospital bed, covered in cuts and bruises and unconscious. You went to his bedside unsure of what to feel. Your heart swelled a little when you saw him, but you were also scared and hurt and confused and angry. You reached out a hand and brushed some hair out of his face, almost as a way to confirm his existence, to confirm he was actually there and you hadn't lost your mind.

As your fingertips made contact, your eyes dropped shut and your lip quivered. You retracted your hand and collapsed onto the floor as sobs tore through your body, your mind swirling with questions. How was he alive? Why did he tell them to call you of all people? Where has he been this whole time? How could he have faked his death? How could he have put you through that? How was he back?

After a while, the sobbing and tears subsided and a certain numbness took over you as the questions faded to be replaced with memories. Memories of Billy danced through your mind as you sat on the floor, cheeks streaked with the tears you hadn’t bothered to wipe away. Billy was your best friend and your first… everything really. First kiss, first love, first sexual partner, first heartbreak, first death of a loved one- or so you’d thought anyway, the first person you’d ever mourned and now, the first person you’d ever known to somehow return from the dead. Billy and you had what seemed like a complicated history, friends to lovers back to friends but he had been your person in every way. He was the one you went to about everything and you were his. His “death” had crushed you. But now, he was just someone you used to know.

You were brought back to reality by shifting in the bed before you and the sound of a sharp intake of breath. You glanced up and saw Billy looking at you, his face twisted in pain and his casted hand holding his ribs. He had clearly tried to sit up on his own. You stood and pushed him back down. With one hand still on his chest, you reached for the button to call the nurse. As you did you felt his unharmed hand cover yours and you froze. You could feel him looking at you but you couldn't get yourself to look back. You heard the doorknob rattle and you pulled away from him, wiping your face on your sleeve and turned to see the same nurse as before entering the room. You gave her a quick, tight smile and sat in one of the chairs near the bed. Over the next several minutes as the nurse checked in with Billy you sat numbly. You saw Billy glance your way once or twice but you paid no attention. You just zoned out. When the nurse turned to leave you shot her another quick smile.

Once the door closed behind her, you saw Billy open his mouth to speak up you held up a hand to stop him. The two of you sat in silence for a long while as you wrestled with your emotions. Your heart telling you to go to him, be happy he’s back and love him, your mind telling you to scream, yell, chew him out because how very dare he hurt you like that? and your body was telling you to just break down again.

After a long while, choosing your words very carefully, you said, “did you have a good reason?”

Billy gulped, knowing exactly what you were referring to “yeah, love. but I-” you held up a hand again and he stopped again instantly

“I am so pissed at you right now. I can’t-” you took a deep breath “I accept that you had a reason but I lost my best friend, my-” you paused “I lost everything when I lost you and now you’re here. And I’m so fucking angry but also… you’re here. You’re actually fucking here and shit… I’m so mad at you. How fucking dare you”

Billy was silent, staring at his lap

You sat in silence again. Both unsure of what to say or do or feel. Both aching for each other, having missed the other dearly. As upset as you were, Billy was actually here. He was right there, just a few steps away and you just couldn’t help yourself. You stood and his head whipped toward you. You went to his bedside and gestured for him to scooch over, which he did with a puzzled look on his face, and you lay on your side next to him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“I missed you” you whispered as you gently played with his fingers on his non-injured hand.

Billy leaned over, placed a kiss on your forehead, and said “I missed you too, love”

Before long you had both dozed off and you slept more peacefully than you had in a long while. Since Billy’s death actually, but you couldn't bring yourself to remember that just yet.

After a while, you weren’t sure exactly how long, you were woken up by Billy poking at your forehead and whispering your name. You batted his hand away and glared at him

“What?”

“I need to wee and you’re on me”

You sighed, swung your legs over the side of the small bed and sat up. You stretched and stood. Ben groaned behind you and you turned to find him struggling to sit up as he had before and once again you went to him but this time you helped him up. As he went about his business you decided to head to the nurses station for a stretch and to see if the nurse you’d spoken to before was still here. She was and for that, you were grateful as you had some questions.

You spoke to her about Billy and his injuries and care. She said he seemed to be doing well when she saw him earlier, that his injuries were not too extensive and the surgery for the internal bleeding was as minimally invasive as was possible and that while he would be good to leave the hospital very soon (tomorrow or the day after depending on her next check-in with him) he would need to be released into someone else’s care to keep an eye on his recovery and so on. Then she said,

“I assume that would be you”

“Me?”

“You”

You gulped and took a form she was holding out to you. Taking care of Billy... Living with Billy through his healing process… as much as you’d missed him and as much as your heart ached for him you were so afraid he’d leave again. What if he used your help then bailed? No, not Billy. You told yourself. Yes he left before but he’s not a user and he said he had a good reason for what he did, and because it was Billy, you believed him.

“You’ll both need to sign it agreeing that he is in your care for the hospital to feel good about letting him leave this early but of course we can’t make you guys sign it or technically make him stay”

You nodded “I’ll talk to him” and you started to drift off to his room still staring at the form

“I’ll be in shortly before the end of my shift and again tomorrow morning”

You nodded again even though you were nearly at his door already and it was unlikely she could see such a subtle movement of your head from there.

You stepped back into his room and found him back in bed.

“What’s that?” he asked pointing at the paper in your hand

“A form” you said still lost in thought and drifting toward his bed. When you got close enough he reached out and snatched it from your hands.

“Release form?” He questioned his eyebrows scrunching together “I, the undersigned, agree to be released into the care of..” he stopped reading and looked at you “what is this?”

“They think you’ll be all ready to leave the hospital possibly as soon as tomorrow providing you have someone to keep track of you, which they assume will be me”

“Well, yeah. why wouldn’t it be you?”

You opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t find the words to express everything going on in your head.

Billy set the form down and reach out to you with both hands. You took his hands in yours and he pulled a bit so you tipped onto the bed and he pulled you into a tight hug. “I’ll explain everything, where I was, what happened to me, why I-" he paused "everything. I promise. But not here, not now. I fucked up by not telling you about all this as it happened and I’ve regretted it every day since”

You pulled away from him and grabbed the - now slightly crumpled- form from where he’d placed it on his lap and left the room. Billy watched as you left, confused and scared but then you swept back into the room, with a pen in hand and you signed the form. You handed Billy the form and the pen and said, “I’ve gotta go home, see you tomorrow” and you left again leaving Billy in a bit of a daze.

When you got back to the small place you called home, you got nervous. Billy had been your best, well… everything for so many years, he’d seen you at your worst and your best and he’d seen your home in greater disarray than it was now and yet you were nervous about him seeing your life like this. So you cleaned and tidied until you couldn’t think of anything else to dust or move and when you finally went to bed that night you dreamt of Billy. A mix of fact and fiction intertwined in your brain as you slept fitfully. Happy turned to sad, sad turned to confusing and confusing turned to scary until you awoke with a jolt.

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