#so maybe their genes will make it back someday

[kedreeva]

Well, it is a sad and joyous day. I've been back and forth with a nice, retired gentleman from nearby who wanted to get some peafowl. He made it out today and took home two pairs; a pair of purple BS from Polaris and then, to my sadness but also happiness, Bismuth and Citrine.

I'm gonna miss those little shits. It will be more peaceful without them, as Bismuth didn't get along with Stella and Citrine didn't get along with Bug, but I still loved them both a great deal and I'm SO relieved that they were able to go to a home together. They absolutely adore each other. I've been promised update photos as they grow and mature, and the guy is in the process of relocating to a few hundred acres down south where they won't have to deal with harsh Michigan winters, which I'm sure they will appreciate.

I will still probably post some photos of them, as I have some from days I took a bunch of photos I didn't end up posting, but send your well-wishes to them in their new home!

[monzabee]

woah, baby! - s. reid

criminal minds masterlist ||

Summary: spencer regrets his words about not wanting kids. how can he not when he sees you with a baby? 

Pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: spencer doesn’t want a baby (or does he?), talks about schizophrenia, kissing, babies, talks about pregnancy 

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

In retrospect, he should’ve known his words would eventually come back to bite him in the ass. Especially because they hadn’t been spoken in anger or frustration. No, Spencer had said it casually over takeout and an old documentary playing in the background. 

“I just don’t think I want kids,” he’d said, chopsticks paused mid-air. “I mean, I just don’t think it would be fair to them, with our line of work and all. You know?” 

You’d gone quiet then, your smile faltering for just a second before you recovered. You didn’t argue. You didn’t press. You just nodded, picked at your noodles, and changed the subject. “People around us will have kids,” you had said to him later, “you’re more important to me.” 

And he’d believed you. Or at least, he’d convinced himself you meant it. Because you were always understanding, always willing to compromise. Spencer had taken that quiet acceptance and tucked it away, like an old piece of paper, pretending it didn’t ache to think about having kids with you.  

It’s not that he doesn't want kids per se, because he does. He really, really does—and with you. But he’d spent so long convincing himself that it isn't a good idea, that it wouldn’t be safe, that he wouldn't be good enough, and there was a risk he would pass on the gene for schizophrenia. But all of that—the logic, the statistics, the what-ifs—starts to crumble the moment he saw you with a baby in your arms.  

It had been an impromptu visit to JJ’s. A rare weekend with no case, no jet, just brunch on her back patio while Henry played in the yard. You’d offered to help with Michael, who was fussing, and within seconds you had him nestled against your shoulder, bouncing gently and humming something soft under your breath. Spencer had looked up from his plate, and everything in him stops. 

But now, you weren't just holding JJ’s baby—you were glowing. Calm and natural and heartbreakingly beautiful as you whisper silly things to make him giggle. He sees your eyes soften when the baby grabs your finger, the way your lips curls into a secret little smile meant just for him. And that’s when something shifts. Like a dam inside his chest, like every carefully constructed wall of rationality and fear finally gave in to something far more powerful—want.  

Not abstract or theoretical, not someday or maybe.  

But real and immediate. Now. 

It’s completely irrational, and irresponsible, and Spencer knows this. But the only thing he wants to do right now is to take you home and—well, to put it crudely, put a baby inside you—in the most gentlemanly way possible, of course. He doesn’t do it right away though, of course not! And he doesn’t say anything when Will asks him whether he’s fine, no. Not while you’re cradling Michael and smiling like that, like you were meant for it. He just watches you, heart thudding with the weight of a thousand unsaid things. He thinks about the future—the possible future where the two of you have a baby of your own.  

He thinks about the scattered toys around the apartment, and lazy mornings where you all pile into bed together, your child nestled between the two of you, giggling as Spencer pretends to be asleep just so he can feel the weight of their tiny body crawling over him, demanding attention. He imagines late nights, bleary-eyed and half-asleep, warming up bottles while you rock the baby against your chest in one of his old FBI hoodies. He pictures your shared smiles when they take their first steps, say their first words, when their sleepy eyes blink up at him like he’s their whole world. 

He thinks about it, and he thinks about it a lot. But he stays silent, knowing that once the words are out, there’s no taking them back. And for something this big—this life-altering—he needs to be sure. Not just that he wants it, but that you still do, too. That somewhere deep down, after all this time, after his half-hearted deflections and logic-laced excuses, you’re still holding onto that quiet hope. 

So, he waits. 

Waits until you are in the safe confine of your home. You're humming as you put away the leftovers from earlier, and Spencer leans against the doorframe, watching you with the kind of reverence that aches. It hits him again, the thought that this is what he wants every day, forever, with you. 

He walks toward you slowly, almost hesitantly, as though afraid that moving too fast might make the fragile thing blooming inside him shatter. You glance up at him and smile. It’s so easy, so effortless, and he wonders if you even know what you do to him. 

“Hey,” he says, voice soft, a little unsure. 

You raise an eyebrow, catching the slight change in his tone. “Hey. You okay?” Spencer nods, but then shakes his head, but you don’t give him a chance to speak. “Is it your stomach? I told you to stay away from the dairy, Spence, you never listen to me—” 

“I want kids,” he blurts, voice higher-pitched than intended, sharp enough to cut right through your sentence. 

You freeze, a Tupperware lid still in your hand, eyes wide as you turn to face him. “Huh?” 

“I—” He exhales shakily. “I know it sounds sudden. And maybe it is. But it’s the only thing I’ve been able to think about today after seeing you with Micheal and I just thought about kids. Our kids.” 

You blink, still not moving. “Kids. Like—plural?” 

“I mean, I’d start with one,” he says, a little breathless, a touch desperate. “Just one. Though I guess twins do run in your family, so that means at least a fifteen percent chance of multiples, but that’s not the point—” He stops himself, clearly spiraling into statistics out of nerves, and drags a shaky hand through his hair. “What I mean is, yes. Plural. If you want. I just… I want this with you.” 

The Tupperware clatters onto the counter as you slowly set it down, turning to face him fully. “Spence, you told me you didn’t want kids, remember?” 

“I know,” he says, voice thick now, eyes wide with something raw. “And I meant it—at the time. Or I thought I did. I was scared. Scared of passing things on, of not being good enough, of loving them so much it would undo me. But you…” He takes a step closer. “You make it make sense. You make it feel possible and safe... right.” You swallow hard. It’s a lot. All of it. The past, the memory of that night he so casually shut the door on this dream. The quiet ache of acceptance that came afterward. And now—this. “I don’t want to pressure you,” he continues quickly, seeing the conflict flicker in your eyes. “This isn’t me asking you to decide right now, or even soon. I just needed to be honest. I needed you to know.” He stops a foot away from you, eyes searching yours. “Do you still want that? With me?” 

The silence stretches for a moment. And then you reach for him, wordless, threading your fingers through his and placing his hand gently over your heart. “I always wanted that with you,” you whisper, and he releases the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. 

Spencer leans in, pressing his forehead to yours. “Okay,” he breathes, soft and reverent. “Okay.” 

“Yeah,” you laugh, a little breathless and a little teary. “Let’s do it. Let’s have a baby.” 

Spencer exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years. He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, and for a moment, neither of you says anything. After a beat, he mumbles into your skin, “I still think it was the dairy, though.” 

You snort. “Spencer.” 

“What? I’m just saying, correlation isn’t causation.” His voice pitches higher as he tries to defend himself, making you smile into his shoulder. 

You sigh in faux-exasperation. “God help our future child.” 

“I’m a very fun fact at parties.” You laugh, as he grins, holding you tighter. Then, suddenly he pulls back slightly, just enough to look at you, his eyes soft but filled with something raw and hopeful. His hand cups your cheek, brushing his thumb over your skin like he’s trying to memorize every detail of you. 

“What?” You ask, laughing softly. 

“I love you,” he says, voice barely a whisper, “I just—really, really love you.” 

“I love you too,” you whisper, a smile tugging at your lips, but it’s a smile full of so much more than just happiness.  

It’s full of everything you’ve both been through, everything that’s led you to this moment, and everything that’s to come. And somehow, you think it’s perfect. 

[crystalflygeo]

Kinktober Day 3 - Oviposition ft Dan Heng (Honkai Star Rail)

Soooooooo.... this got out of hand WHEEZE as it always does when it involves dragon eggs. I'm-.... I'm just hopeless atp. Buckle up I'm about to ignore canon and pull a lot of made up shit from thin air for the sake of horny, lmaoooo. Lovingly dedicated to @moraxsthrone

This is how Tang Tang was made//HIT

At first, you aren’t sure if you heard correctly. 

Dan Heng says nothing but pointedly avoids your gaze with a healthy blush on his cheeks.

“Did you say, uh… maybe I misheard but-” You start.

“Eggs.” Dan Heng repeats. “Dragon eggs, much smaller, of course, but they… could be viable…”

“... Eggs.” You say with a blink. 

Dan Heng sighs. “Yes.” And turns around to stare and interact with a few screens. “According to some ancient records it seems, those who have fully realized their potential as draconic Vidhyadara and manifest the dragon-like characteristics and behaviors, could, in theory, be able to pass on genes and reproduce like our reptile counterparts.” 

He is still not looking at you. Scrolling mindlessly through windows of text and opening and closing tabs. He’s nervous, you know it. 

“Children.” You blurt.

“Yes, I… it’s understandable if you have reservations. There is time to consider, I don’t want you to feel obligated to anything or…”

There’s a bit of hope in his voice, your heart warms up and flutters. Children. It’s been such an accepted impossibility in your relationship. You’ve entertained the idea of adoption someday. Now there could be a chance?

You just never imagined it would involve getting railed and apparently pumped full of-

You inhale, close your eyes, and decide to speak before you think too much about it. “Alright, but you have a lot to explain.” 

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

And so, he explains. In excruciating detail. 

Dan Heng seems to be pondering aloud just as much as he is trying to explain the whole process. All an educated guess, though, as he puts it. You’re working with estimations and are not sure how to feel about that but he’s put an incredible amount of research into it all and that, at least, soothes you.

Over the years you’ve seen Dan Hang in many different ways and dealt with your fair share of… interesting Vidyadhara traits. Mates? Good. Funky dragon anatomy? Very good. Being protective and territorial over you? Yes. But eggs… will definitely be new. 

Your back hits the mattress and you shiver nervously, only in your underwear. Dan Heng kisses you softly, his hand cupping your cheek. Like this his eyes have an almost ethereal glow and his long dark hair is unbound falling down his back. Teal horns crown his head, and though they aren’t new you can’t help but be amazed by them every time.

“How do you feel? Are you sure about this?” He asks tenderly. 

You’re trying hard not to think too much about your previous discussions, sneaking a glance at his underwear out of the corner of your eye, or more accurately, at the large bulge in it. 

You lick your lips nervously and nod “Yeah… yeah, sure.” 

He sighs and smooths a hand along your shoulder. “If you have changed your mind-”

“No, no! I haven’t I promise I just… I’m nervous, there’s a lot to consider and…” You stare at him for a moment and remember, he is walking this path with you, just as lost and nervous. “I love you.” You smile reassuringly. “I love you so much. I want this.”

His breath comes out in a woosh and he leans forward again to kiss you. 

It’s passionate, demanding, his tongue tangles with yours and explores your mouth and you groan, your body melting under him, hands roaming each other’s bodies. You see his teal dragon tail manifesting, swaying about excitedly before curling around your ankle possessively.     

He massages your breast, pinching a nipple between his fingers to bring it to a stiff peak, you whine and arch your back, he takes the chance to make short work of your bra and toss it somewhere along the dark room before your arms curl around his neck once more to pull him down into another kiss.

His hips buck into yours and he moans. Even through the fabric you can already tell this time something is different. 

And honestly you can’t wait. 

Your fingers hook at the edge of his underwear, teasing, and start to pull down, Dan Heng groans and helps you discard his last piece of clothing, your panties quickly joining after and this is it. You stare.

Not just his gorgeous, thick cock you’ve come to love so much but two. Two.

One is relatively normal, his shape and girth familiar despite the clear draconic hue from his dark uncut tip and soft ridges. The other slightly larger, with a pointier tip, not as strange as Dan Heng had made it out to be. The Vidyadhara had been all shy and hesitant about it, both out of embarrassment and perhaps because he was afraid it might scare you off. 

Instead, desire pools between your legs. Oh, how you want.

“A-Alright, so first I should-!!” Any other words are lost in a strangled moan as you reach out and wrap your hand around the unfamiliar length. It’s hot in your palm, thick and firm. Dan Heng hisses as you tentatively jerk it a bit, squeezing around the tip, it’s spade-shaped and neatly tapered, perfect for reaching deep and pressing on just the right spots. 

Or so you assume, won’t know until you try.

He bucks into your hand with a grunt and you stare fascinated at the leaking tip, before either of you can process it, you dark forward and lap at it. “Hng!” He tosses his head back and his hand flies to grip at your hair. 

It tastes salty, slightly more viscous and you can’t get enough of it, you gingerly kiss at the tip and mouth at it before closing your lips around the crown, it’s thick in your mouth, your hand teasing the rest of it. 

You stare up at Dan Heng, his eyes shut tight, brow furrowed and face flushed all the way to the tips of his pointy ears, he’s tense and shivering, clearly holding back from rutting into the wet warmth of your throat. 

So, you attempt to take him deeper, moaning for good measure so the vibrations drive him insane, and you’re rewarded with more pleasured noises that make your pussy clench.

“My love… w-wait-” He gasps, you run your tongue along the underside of his length. “Fuck-!” Ohhh he’s losing his composure, his grip on your hair tightening. When your other hand curls around his unattended cock, thumb swirling at the tip, he snaps. “Enough.”

You pull off with a wet pop, licking your lips and catching your breath. 

Dan Heng pushes you back with a hand and you follow easily, back hitting the mattress and spreading your legs eagerly for him to slot in. He reaches for a pillow and places it under your hips, raising the slightly, his tail now curls around your thigh. 

Your stares cross, love and lust mixing. 

“Are you ready?” He asks, his thumb rubbing over your entrance, finding you dripping wet. 

“Yes, Aeons, yes…”

He leans down to kiss you again, tender this time, there’s a sense of intimacy that warms you. How you love this man, this dragon. The way he dotes over you, the way he breathes in your scent and kisses you and holds you close, tender. 

He sinks two fingers inside you and you whimper into the kiss. He works you open slowly, reverent, pulling in and out, stretching them a bit and adding a third. You’re squirming, desperate and worked up. Nails dragging on his back and shoulders. “Dan Heng please…” 

He kisses at your neck, nips the skin there with his fangs. “Be patient, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. Please, just put it in. Breed me.” 

He stops, you hear a little growl, ragged breath on your collarbone, and suddenly the fingers are gone. You barely have time to miss them when that thick pointy cockhead is pressing against you. 

Then it sinks in, the glide slow and gentle with Dan Heng’s careful movements.  

And oh, oh- you feel him stretch you. Thick and long and so, so hot. It spears you open in the most delicious way, rubbing at your insides as he pulls out ever so slightly before fucking in deeper with slow rolls of his hips.

You toss your head back and moan. You feel so full, deliciously complete. The draconic cock settling deep inside as Dan Heng bottoms out, his balls flush against your taint and the second cock dribbling precum everywhere on your thigh and navel.  

You take a moment or two to settle, both of you, and then he starts moving. Dan Heng pulls back and rolls into you languidly, slow and deep, testing the waters. 

“So good for me… so warm and… thigh-!” He murmurs against your skin, pressing kisses anywhere he can reach. You keen, arching off the mattress and meeting his every thrust.

The air is thick and heavy, he presses as close as he can against you, your legs lock behind his back as he gradually speeds up. Your thoughts are fuzzy, blissed-out. The room is a cacophony of moans and whimpers and the sound of skin on skin. 

“I need- please- Dan Heng-!!”

The drag of his cock sets you alight, every nerve stimulated, pleasure building and building…

“I’m close” He rasps out. You’re about to tell him to come deep inside as he always does and then you remember.

“Oh.”

Dan Heng’s grip tightens in the sheets, his thrusts slow to a crawl and you suddenly feel a subtle bulge pressing against your hole. “T-that’s-” You say breathlessly. 

An egg.

He presses his forehead against yours and rolls his hips a little more insistent, trying to ease it in “Careful now…relax for me.” 

You’re trying but the pressure is intense and you’re already so full of thick cock. How can you take more? You whimper.

“I’m-”

“You can do it.”

A dragon egg, a little dragon baby. A tiny piece of you and him joining to create something wonderful. This is why you’re doing this. 

“Almost there” His voice is a soothing balm, con contradictory to the way he ruts into you, pushing your limits. But the way his teal eyes almost glow, pupils pulled to slits, flushed and panting but so determined, staring at you with so much love. You bite your lip and cant your hips, muffling your cries as his cock slips deeper with every thrust. 

It feels like an eternity when the ovipositor slips back all the way inside, and you cry out.

Dan Heng’s thumb traces your clit and while he can’t really pull out, he fucks into you with a nice deep grind.

“Dan Heng-!” You whisper, nothing more than a debauched breathless mess. “Dan Heng, Dan Heng, Dan Heng…”

The coil in your gut snaps and you come with a scream, tears springing to your eyes and your walls fluttering around his length, easing the egg deep inside you. He fucks a few more thrusts into you and then makes a noise you never heard from him before, a sort of choked growl.

Then, he stills.

You spend a few moments catching your breath and Dan Heng nuzzles into you, kissing away your tears as you lie a full, overstimulated, flushed mess. 

“Bear with me just a little longer.” He pants, pulling back a a little to hover over you. You groan, having almost forgotten about this particular step and the promise of his other cock, the one more familiar to you. 

He eases the ovipositor out of you slowly. The egg vaguely feeling heavy and round in your womb. You can’t think straight as Dan Heng shifts against you, his other cock resting against your entrance before easily sinking in, smaller than the first, bottoming out immediately. 

You sigh.

“I… I won’t last long.” He admits.

“Breed me.” You repeat. “Our egg will take.”

It seems like the right incentive as he starts fucking into you in a frenzied pace, pressing and pulling at your insides. You sob and squirm, uselessly trying to match his rhythm. He growls, groans and tips over surprisingly quickly, filling you up with sticky cum. 

Your body sags, spent, aching, full, and so utterly satisfied. He stays lodged in deep and doesn’t move. You both take a moment to come down from the intense high. 

Dan Heng slides a hand along your tummy, smoothing the skin there and feeling the very small subtle bulge there. “Mine. All mine… both of you.” He claims.  

You place your hand on his and smile weakly.

He finally pulls out, making you groan at the emptiness, and maneuvers you both onto your sides, spooning you. He brushes at your hair and kisses the back of your neck, whispering sweet nothings “You did so well. I love you.” His hand rests on the soft curve of your stomach. The barest signs of a bump that could be easily missed. “Rest.” 

You sigh deeply, content. “Love you too…” Comes out slightly slurred. And so, you rest.

[bambieyedoll]

⋆·˚ ༘ * JARED CAMERON HEADCANONS 𐚁̸.ᐟ

dating jared cameron would include…

jared being completely smitten from the second he realizes you’re his imprint.

like, full-on golden retriever energy.

he tries to play it cool at first, but it lasts maybe five minutes before he’s showing up everywhere you go, smiling like you hung the stars.

the pack teasing him constantly because he turns into this soft, dreamy version of himself whenever you’re around.

embry makes gagging noises, paul pretends to swoon, and sam gives him the look when he skips patrol to walk you home (again).

he gets so protective — not in a controlling way, just in a deeply instinctive “that’s my person and i’ll rip apart anything that hurts them” kind of way.

even before you’re officially together, his eyes track you anytime you’re nearby.

so much touching.

jared is obsessed with physical affection. he always has a hand on your back, slinging an arm around your shoulders, or holding your hand in his ridiculously warm grip. he gets grumpy if he can’t be near you.

you teasing him about being your personal space heater in the winter. he just grins and pulls you closer.

“you’re not cold anymore, are you?”

“no, but i can’t feel my ribs now.”

“that’s love, babe.”

jared trying to be patient when you’re upset, even though his wolf side hates seeing you cry.

he paces the room, fists clenched, practically vibrating with frustration — not at you, but at the fact that you’re hurting and he can’t fix it fast enough.

him picking you up like it’s nothing. literally throws you over his shoulder just to make you laugh. or carries you when you’re tired, injured, or just because he wants to.

“why are you carrying me?”

“because i like holding you. duh.”

worshipping you when you’re insecure. jared doesn’t just say you’re beautiful — he means it in that intense, imprinting way that makes your knees weak.

“i wish you could see what i see when i look at you. you’d never doubt yourself again.”

late night drives where he takes you out to the cliffs just to talk and be alone. he lets you play whatever music you want.

you end up in his lap in the front seat, pressed against his chest while he traces lazy circles on your back.

him being loyal to a fault. he’s all in, heart and soul.

if anyone even looks at you the wrong way, jared’s already glaring from across the room.

“they weren’t even flirting, jared.”

“they breathed too close to you. i saw it.”

inside jokes whispered during pack meetings. you bite your lip trying not to laugh while sam glares at both of you.

him talking about the future like it’s a given. not in a pushy way, just casually weaving you into every plan.

“when we get our own place…”

“someday, when you’re my wife…”

“our kids are gonna have the best damn genes.”

and at the end of the day, jared would be the kind of boyfriend who makes everything feel safe.

no matter how bad your day was, coming home to his arms would make you feel like nothing else mattered but the two of you.

jared always noticing the small things.

if you change your shampoo, he smells it instantly. if you’re slightly off emotionally, he’s right there, gently tugging you aside like,

“talk to me. don’t shut me out.”

he feels your shifts before you do sometimes.

him being so vocal about how much he loves you. not just big declarations — it’s the soft, daily stuff.

“you look beautiful today.”

“you’re my favorite person in the whole damn world.”

“i didn’t think i could be this happy until you.”

him sneaking kisses in public.

he’s not shy about pda at all.

quick kisses to your temple when you walk past. leaning over just to kiss your cheek while you talk to someone. wrapping his arms around you from behind at bonfires.

you wearing his clothes all the time. and he loves it. you in his hoodie? heaven. you sleeping in his t-shirt? he’s gone.

“keep it. looks better on you anyway.”

getting mad at jared is hard.

mostly because he gives you those puppy eyes and soft apologies the second he realizes you’re upset.

“i didn’t mean to upset you. can we talk about it? please?”

but if you’re mad and silent? jared spirals a little.

the imprint makes your distance feel physically painful, so he’ll follow you around like a kicked puppy, trying to fix it — making you tea, writing you a note, asking over and over if you’re okay yet.

being the only one who can calm him down during a phase or shift.

when he’s shaking with rage, seconds from phasing, all it takes is your voice, your hand on his chest, your whisper of “i’m right here.”

the pack watching in awe the first time you talk jared down when he’s about to lose it. sam looks impressed. paul looks offended.

“it takes a damn army to hold jared back and she does it with one look?”

your scent grounding him.

after a rough day or long patrol, he buries his face in your neck, breathing you in like it resets his whole nervous system.

you run your fingers through his hair and he melts instantly.

falling asleep on his chest. it’s warm, solid, safe. his heartbeat lulls you to sleep.

sometimes you mumble things in your sleep and jared pretends not to hear — but he remembers every word.

especially the time you whispered, “i love you, jared.” before you were ready to say it out loud.

he never brought it up, but he smiled for three days straight.

him talking about you to the elders like you’re sacred. the imprint makes it spiritual for him.

you’re not just his girlfriend. you’re his anchor. his home. his reason.

+ angsty headcanon:

the one time you tried to break up with him —maybe because you didn’t think you were good enough for him, or felt overwhelmed— jared shattered.

his voice broke. his hands trembled.

“you don’t get it, do you? you’re it for me. there’s no backup plan. there’s no one else. you walk away, and i lose everything.”

he’s not perfect —jared can be stubborn, a little possessive, and way too confident sometimes— but he loves you with a depth that could break worlds.

he’s a wolf with your name etched into his bones.

[ordinary-barbie]

give me more than just butterflies. jean x reader

summary: you and Jean have been dating for a few months now and you’re thinking about how good a dad he would be someday. maybe, just maybe… title is from "juno" by sabrina carpenter.

tags: jean x fem!reader, mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff, oral (m and f receiving), pet names (babe and baby), slight breeding/pregnancy kink, jean and reader are in their late 20s here

minors and ageless DNI! 18+ only, please.

Dating Jean Kirstein made you feel like you'd won the lottery.

Obviously, he was an absolute dreamboat looks-wise. You loved his tall, muscular build, soft ash-brown hair and light brown eyes, not to mention a smile that could rival the sun in wattage. In another life, he could make a killing as an Abercrombie model.

However, it's his personality that really made you fall for him. He's impossibly sweet and kind yet has a strong sarcastic streak you love. He adores you, of course, but also loves his friends (even though Sasha and Connie in particular drive him nuts sometimes) and would do anything for his mama. Of course Jean wasn't perfect; he had his flaws, but when it comes to boyfriends, you couldn't see how you could do any better.

You and Jean had been dating for almost a year now. You'd met him through Hinge; dating apps had always seemed a bit scary to you, but one of your best friends convinced you to put yourself out there. You were charmed by his witty answers to his profile prompts and very attracted to his pictures. It turned out that he was utterly charming even through text, and after one date at a local Italian restaurant Jean adored, you were absolutely smitten (and the feeling was mutual). The two of you have been dating for nine months now, in absolute bliss.

Life was good right now, but your mind couldn't help drifting to thoughts of the future, especially after you and Jean went to see his best friend Marco's new baby boy. Callum was an absolute cutie, with his dad's dark brown hair and nose but his mom's bright blue eyes.

"Hey babe, could you get a pic of me with Cal?" Jean asked. He had Callum perfectly cradled in his arms and you just about melted at the sight. Jean looked so at peace holding the baby, like this was second nature to him. You quickly took your phone out of your pocket and took a candid snap of your boyfriend lovingly gazing at the baby, then another one where he looked directly at the camera, smiling softly.

Jean passed Callum back to Marco's wife Adelaide, then peeked over your shoulder to see the photos you took. "These are perfect," he said, beaming. "Thanks, baby."

Marco and Adelaide hurried over to see the photos and "aww"ed over them, making Jean's cheeks flush with pink. "It's amazing how much the guy who used to shotgun whipped cream in high school looks like a dad here," Marco joked.

You snickered, but after the laughter subsided, you couldn't help but agree with Marco. Jean looked so comfortable with Callum; if anyone didn't know any better, they'd think Jean was posing with his own son.

The image of Jean holding Marco's son stayed in your mind for days after that visit. You'd been on the fence about having kids, not sure if you wanted to go through the whole ordeal of pregnancy or if you'd even make a halfway-decent mother. But seeing Jean cradling a baby had stirred a desire in you. Maybe having a kid wouldn't be so bad...especially if it was with Jean.

You were nowhere near ready to have a kid right now, but the idea of having a baby with Jean somewhere down the line was sounding more and more appealing. Jean was pretty much the hottest person alive, and it would be cool if some baby was lucky enough to get some of his genes. The only issue was actually telling your desired baby daddy. What if he got scared off by you already dreaming of having kids with him? You hadn't even been together for a year yet. You decided to squash that dream of yours for the moment, not wanting to freak him out.

You were in bliss. Jean had come over to watch Howl's Moving Castle ("It's a crime that you haven't seen it!" you insisted), but as soon as the credits started rolling, he'd pulled you onto his lap and pressed soft, slow kisses to your neck. You sighed, happily, grinding yourself against Jean and making him gasp.

"Babe, watch it," he spoke in a strained voice. "If you keep doing that, I'm gonna go crazy, and I don't think I have a condom with me."

You were so horny you couldn't think straight. "I don't care, you can finish inside me," you blurted out.

Jean flushed bright red, saying your name with a gasp. "Um, while I would love to do that, I'm not tryin' to get you pregnant right now. I know you're on the pill, but better safe than sorry, you know?"

Jean's words tugged at your heartstrings. What a man! He could be so anxious when it came to sex at times, but you knew it was because he deeply cared for you and wanted to make sure you were happy and safe. And he was right; this would not be the right time to have a baby.

Your hidden thought popped back into your head. Fuck it, why not just tell him? He'd given you the perfect opening. "I appreciate that, Jean. But one day I do want to have kids with you. I don't know when, but I've been thinking about this for a while, and I want you to make me a mom."

When Jean stayed silent for a few moments, you got nervous. Then his eyes started to well up with tears. "Babe, are - are you sure this is what you want? I mean, I'm so down for this, but I know when we first started dating, you were on the fence about children."

You were so relieved that your irrational fears about Jean's reaction hadn't played out. "Yes, I'm sure. I've been sure ever since that day two weeks ago when we met Marco's baby and I took those pictures of you holding him," you answered, your voice shaking with emotion. "I know we haven't even been together a year yet and maybe this is too soon to be talking about this but - I want it. A house and a family, with you."

Jean wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, and peppered your face with kisses. "Babe, I love you so much. I wouldn't want to start a family with anyone else."

"Well I should certainly hope not," you joked, needing to lighten up the moment a little bit. Jean laughed before burying his face into the side of your neck and nuzzling you.

It was a tender moment, interrupted by a particular something poking you in the side. "Jean. Did you really get hard because I told you I want to have your babies one day?" You couldn't help but giggle.

Jean lifted his head from your neck, looking sheepish. "I'm sorry babe. I just pictured you being pregnant and...I guess I got excited."

You lightly punched your boyfriend in the arm, pretending to be scandalized. "Jean Kirstein, you are a pervert!" You couldn't lie that it was a little bit hot that he would still find your pregnant body desirable, to be honest.

Jean smirked at you. "Can't help it. You're gonna be the hottest mom in the neighborhood, baby."

Zing. Jean's words went straight to your core. You lifted yourself off of his lap and sank down to your knees on the floor, looking for permission before you unbuttoned your boyfriend's pants.

"Babe, what are you doing?" he questioned with a chuckle, though there was a dark glint in his eye.

"Well, I was thinking, if we can't have sex right now, we can still do...other stuff. And I figured I’d help take care of your little problem.” You flashed him a coy smile.

Jean groaned before unbuttoning his pants and letting you take his length into your mouth. He moaned your name, looking like he was trying not to bust a nut right then and there.

"What did I do to deserve someone as amazing as you?" Jean asked, his eyes shut with pleasure as you sucked him off and fondled his balls. You giggled before pulling your mouth off of him and kissed the tip of his dick, causing Jean to let out a guttural growl.

Before you could return to your blowjob, Jean had joined you on the floor, capturing your lips in a deep kiss before smooching his way down your body.

It was your turn to ask, "Babe, what are you doing?" Even though you knew damn well what was about to happen, and your body tingled with an excited energy.

"It's only fair that I return the favor, babe," Jean said, casually pulling your underwear to the side before diving in like a starving man.

Yep, you'd definitely won the lottery with Jean Kirstein. And you had a feeling that things would get even better once the two of you were actually ready to try for a baby.

[wassuppeeps]

Anxiety Response Headcanons

Classifications:

Unhealthy/Damaging Response

Neutral Response

Understandable or Relief Response

Healthy Response

Good Help

Bad Help

Multiple Classifications

(I might be wrong about my analyzations lol so correct me if so, you can also ask me about my reasoning behind these classifications bc the only thing I love more than getting comments is responding to them hee hee ha ha 😊)

Gene: When he’s super overwhelmed with high stress or anxiety, he might scratch himself really hard (due to his long-undiagnosed autism, he also has small scars from doing it ever since he was younger) and his heart will also start beating painfully hard and make it tough for him to breathe properly. If he’s alone, he’ll just curl up with his head in his knees on the floor, and he might cry a little. He’ll usually just try to deal with it by himself, but if he manages to think clearly enough, he’ll remember to do at least one of these 3 things; ask for help, do something he likes (like computer chess), or grab his stress ball.

Alexander: He would constantly shake his head and ruffle his own hair really fast and hard, and also bite his fingernails along with panicky pacing back and forth. If it’s REALLY bad he might hit himself or something hard, or just sit down and/or curl up into a ball, kinda like Gene.

Twinkle: She would land on the ground (this is healthy bc fluttering her wings adds a bit to her heart rate and that’s the last thing she needs during a panic attack) and start hyperventilating and tearing up, and of course slowly lose her magic power. A cute sight, a big hug, or a good cup of tea should calm her down.

Ruby: She would freeze up and she would tremble slightly, not very visibly (bc she tries to stay still and not show weakness) but you could tell if you looked at her shaky hands. Her face twitches slightly, and she also sweats and her hands become clammy. If it gets REALLY bad, she might pull some dead hair out.

Alien: His ears would basically do what cat ears do when he feels threatened; bend backward, not floppy but not straight up, right in between, he would also growl a lot and be very tense, primed to pounce (also like a cat). lol this whole part ended up in his colors-

Sir Ulf: His heart rate would increase and start to hurt, and he would sweat… Then he’d lay down for a while, bc aside from a good hug, a small rest usually gets rid of it.

Sir Garroth: The only way you’d even notice is because his pupils contract and he’d sweat a bit. That’s literally it, bc he’s so good at hiding his vulnerabilities. He won’t even retreat to deal with it behind a closed door… He’ll stay in the same spot for as long as he feels he has to, and the longer he forces himself through it, the worse he’ll have to deal with in private when he finally gets a moment to himself….

Sir Archibald: He will immediately run away from whatever started it (which is actually a pretty good tactic of dealing with anxiety, first things first get tf away from whatever’s bothering you) and find a quiet spot to calm down, he might cry for a while, then he’ll regulate his breathing, then he’ll stay there for however long he still needs to, and then get up and jump back into it. (ngl he probably has the healthiest anxiety response out of everyone here bc he’s so used to it)

The Black Baron: Yes, him too. Everyone gets uneasy or freaks out sometimes, even cocky, gay-coded little bastards like this guy. He often fears that not only will his plans not work, but they’ll go horribly wrong and get him caught (or oofed) someday, however he hates feeling weak so he drowns his troubles in alcohol, specifically his favorite red wine (that he does not pay for and just steals straight from the shop lol).

Rhypan: (this is how I spell it so don’t come at me with no “akshually 🤓”) He also hates feeling weak bc it’s the same feeling he got whenever his father yelled at him and beat him so he’ll go ham on the training dummies and then maybe read a nice book. (again, may be one of the healthier anxiety responses here…)

Definitely doing more of these lol (even though color-coding this was a nightmare…. Pls don’t let this flop I spent so much time on this ☹️)

[jeanzcorner]

Just A Wee Bit O' Fun

One Shot

Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish x OC (Jeanz O'Riley) Rated: E for everyone Authors Note: This is my first time writing for COD. I hope you guys enjoy it and my OC Jeanz. Please feel free to comment and reblog.

It was a rare day the team had a day off, no missions, no training rookies. Jeanz was invited to stay a bit longer on base if she wanted to, and the redheaded sergeant couldn’t resist staying a bit longer with the 141. Jeanz had gone outside while the others were in the rec room, wanting a smoke and to look up at the clouds on the nice day. Soap and Gaz had bugged Price, wanting to get off base and go do something as a team, something fun.

“Alright, fine. How about laser tag? A new place just opened up in town?” Price finally relented, though his face was amused, the smile clear through his beard.

“Aye, ah ken you would come around,” Soap said with a grin. He didn’t bother hiding his excitement, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Ghost, who had silently been leaning against the wall, made a noise of agreement. Price’s idea was a good one, if he had a competitive spirit and planned on winning, that was only for him to know. Gaz let out a cheer, but then he got a sly look on his face, sending a mischievous grin toward Soap.

“I say we should invite Jeanz, the Irish spitfire could make it more interesting,” he suggested amusement teasing at his words.

“Sounds good to me, Gaz,” Price agreed with a knowing grin. Sending a look at his Scottish sergeant, he went on, “Soap, why don’t you go find the Irish lass?”

“Ah guess I can do that,” Soap muttered, a faint blush coming to his cheeks. He may or may not have a soft spot for the Irish sergeant, that everyone on the team knew. Soap left the rec room, his steps determined, after telling the others he and Jeanz would meet them at the car. He knew exactly where Jeanz would be, more than likely outside enjoying a smoke and watching the clouds near her favorite tree, something he noticed she did whenever she had a chance. He always enjoyed watching her silently as she always seemed like she was in her own element. He had drawn her more times than he could count, not that he would tell her, yet, maybe someday. Making his way outside, blue eyes looking around for that unmistakable red hair. He spotted her under a tree, the gravel crunching under her feet as she shifted, smoking and looking up at the clouds just like he expected. Taking her in brought a soft smile to his lips as he made his way over to her, his boots crunching on the gravel.

Jeanz wasn’t wearing a uniform, having instead trading it in for a black tee and some black leggings it seemed. Soap thought she couldn’t look any more beautiful, shoving his hands in his pockets and biting his lip to hold back the dopey grin that wanted to escape him. “There’s my favorite Irish spitfire,” he announced, sliding up next to her and nudging her shoulder playfully with his own. Jeanz let out a small snort, rolling her hazel eyes playfully as she dropped her cigarette butt and snuffed it out with her boot, the gravel crunching beneath it, nudging Soap back as she looked up at him. “I’m pretty sure I’m tha’ only Irish person ye know,” she teased with a smile, raising an eyebrow at him. “Aye, ‘spose yer right,” he conceded with a small chuckle.

“So, did ye ‘ave a reason for findin’ me? Or did ye just miss my beautiful face?” Jeanz continued, watching with satisfaction as his cheeks turned a light pink. Soap rolled his eyes as he let out a nervous chuckle. Shaking his head and cursing his ma for the gene of blushing easily, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, leading her toward the parking lot. “Goin’ laser tagging. Yer comin’ wit,” he answered. They strolled, Jeanz tucked neatly under his arm. “Doesn’t seem like I ‘ave a choice,” she snickered, her body subconsciously leaning into him, her arm coming up and wrapping around his waist, following him to the car and climbing in with the rest of the team. She got stuck between Gaz and Soap; her small frame the only one that could sit almost comfortably between them. Ghost with his long-as-hell legs, took the passenger seat, and by no stretch of the imagination, Price drove. Soon enough they had made it, all of them clambering out of the car and into the building. Jeanz had to hold back a snicker at the sight of the front desk person’s eyes going wide as she looked up from her computer. Seeing four tall, broad men and one tiny woman ready to pay for a round of laser tag was a bit shocking.

Transaction complete, they headed towards the course. They had all the time and the entire place to themselves, so of course it was an intense competition from the get-go. Jeanz ran off alone, happily shooting Ghost from behind with a cheer. Booking it before he could turn around and shoot her, she struggled to hear his grumbled complaints and promises to get her back over the sound of her giggles. Price got her first. Snuck up behind her, shot her shoulder sensor, and took off behind a wall before she could retaliate. Jeanz let out a string of Gaelic curses as she dodged around a corner, looking for her next victim. It went on like this for a good twenty minutes and surprisingly, Jeanz and Soap were currently tied for first.

Having successfully avoided Soap thus far Jeanz knew her luck had to be running on empty. Missions were never a good time to be distracted, but here? Gah, his handsome face would lose her this round. She couldn’t afford it. Unfortunately for her, Soap was heavily competitive and had designs on her demise. He waited for the perfect time. Blue eyes watched as Jeanz silently shifted in front of him. Poor lass hadn’t realized he stood in the shadows. A self-satisfied grin crossed his lips. Jeanz let out a small yelp of surprise as hands pulled her into the darkness of a corner she had missed. Soap pinned her to the wall with his body, her hazel eyes went a bit wide as she stared up at him. “Johnny? What are y-” He cut her off as his lips met hers. Her mind short-circuited trying to process what was happening.

Soap held back a groan as he kissed Jeanz. His heart soared in his chest. Finally, he had let himself reach for the desire he kindled for her since she joined the team. Jeanz let out a small moan as she felt his lips pressed against hers.Her hands came up,grabbing the laser tag vest, and pulling him closer to her. Soap couldn’t help the groan that left him as she pulled him closer, his body pressing her more roughly against the wall. One of his hands reached up to tangle in her hair, his tongue sweeping out to brush against her bottom lip, needing to deepen the kiss.

Jeanz let out a small gasp, her hands tightening as she opened her mouth for him, her tongue twisting around his. A sense of satisfaction left her as she heard another groan leave him. He tasted like something she couldn’t name, but it was unique to him and whatever chips he had been snacking on before they came here. Soap couldn’t help the sounds that left him as he finally got to taste her, she tasted like cigarettes and something sweet he couldn’t name, but he found himself getting addicted to her taste already.

He continued their kiss, reluctant about it ending. His lungs screamed for air. His brain told them to figure it out and use the sips of air he could steal from between her lips. When the countdown timer buzzed overhead, Soap set the remainder of his plan in motion. Reluctantly pulling back, Soap reveled in the kissed dumb shock in Jeanz’s slow blinking hazel eyes.

Without another thought, he winked and shot her vest. Her annoyed shriek of his name drew a full smile and a throaty chuckle from his lips. His lips that he had used to kiss her. Stay focused man, he’d nearly won. He jogged his way back over to the door, not bothering to hide the smile on his face. Seeing his name atop the scoreboard high on the wall brought out another laugh. Jeanz’s name beneath his deserved a photo to remember it by. He pulled out his phone, snapping a picture of the scores.

“How the hell did you beat all of us? Jeanz was tied with you, what happened?” Gaz questioned a little bit out of breath, rubbing a hand at some sweat on his forehead, brow raised as he removed his vest. Gaz glanced past Soap as Jeanz appeared. Between her red cheeks, annoyed pout, and the way she glared at Soap, something must have happened. “I won with my charm o’ course,” Soap crowed as he removed his own vest. He followed his team to the counter, each of them placing the vests and guns in a neat line. “Ye mean ye cheated, ye bampot,” Jeanz retorted, her cheeks still red as she crossed her arms, trailing after the team as they left the building. “Did nae! Yer just upset because I won!” Soap countered, grin wide. He watched her as they crossed the dark parking lot. It wasn’t too cold outside, the August air was perfect. A small breeze drifted around them, distracting him as it shifted her hair. They made it to the car, parked under a streetlight. It wasn’t a surprise, Price always parked under a light because he’s as paranoid as the rest of them.

“Ye kissed me ta trick me!” Jeanz snapped as they piled back into the car to head back to base. Price and Ghost made eye contact when they heard that, their brows raising. They were surprised Soap had gotten up the nerve to kiss the little Irish spitfire. They had discussed it often enough during late-night conversations, and they had all agreed that hell would freeze over and pigs would fly before Soap ever did anything about his crush on Jeanz. The men didn’t comment, letting their banter fill the silence. Everyone rolled their eyes at some of Soap’s worse comments though. “Ye ken what? I’m nae arguing about this anymore, c’mere,” Soap declared. He grabbed Jeanz chin, the passing streetlight illuminating her face as he pressed his lips to hers once more. Jeanz’s smile lingered as she melted into his touch. Her hand wrapped around his wrist that held her face. Gaz let out a whistle, a wolfish grin on his face. Price had to fight down a smile as he drove. “‘Bout time damn time,” Ghost said in his deep voice, but they could all hear the smile he was wearing under his mask. @backseatsoldier @lostintransit

[rhiannonsknife]

I was wondering if you could possibly make a Lucy MacLean c.ai bot?

I don’t know what storyline exactly you could do for it but all of your bots are my favorite because all they work so well because you write so well.

Ooooh actually maybe your story Kiss Me Once, Then Kiss Me Twice, Then Kiss Me Once Again would work really well!

Thanks for all of your writing and bots, you’re incredibly talented :)

-wannabe🐻‍❄️

my first lucy bot!! link & info below! (i just copy pasted excerpts from this fic for the first message <3)

you and lucy are sprawled on the bed in her quarters, your shoulders pressed together as you share the same faded book, its pages worn from years of careful reading. the vault’s limited library doesn’t get restocked, after all. neither of you mind. there’s a kind of comfort in the repetition, in knowing exactly what comes next.

that’s how it’s always been: your whole lives spent in the metal halls of vault 33, wrapped in the same routines, finding familiarity in these quiet moments in lucy’s tiny room. at least with her, things never felt suffocating. lucy’s presence made the vault seem bigger than it was, ever since childhood.

still, tonight feels different.

“you know,” you say suddenly. “people in the vault are always talking about how it's normal to...experiment?” lucy's head jerks toward you so quickly, it's a miracle she doesn't pull a muscle. “experiment?”

“yeah,” you hum. “with other people. everyone says it's no big deal. 'limited options' and all that!”

lucy swallows hard, her palms suddenly clammy. “uh...sure,” she says, trying to sound disinterested. “i mean, that's just how it is, right? have to keep the gene pool going or whatever”

“i’m not talking about marriage and babies, lucy. u mean...” you trail off. “practice” lucy blinks. “practice?” she echoes, her voice an octave too high.

“for when we do get married someday,” you clarify. “not to each other, obviously”

lucy feels like her brain is short-circuiting all over again. she barely manages to parrot back, “right...gee, of course not to each other!” hoping that saying it out loud will make it feel true.

“but think about it! vault life does mean limited options, right? most people are already making out with their cousins to ‘prepare for marriage’-“ you pull a face, wrinkling your nose in distaste “-at least this way, we're...helping each other out. as friends!”

“as friends,” lucy repeats, gripping the edge of her mattress to keep her hands from shaking.

— c.ai

[creedslove]

HEARTLESS 💔 - PART SIXTEEN

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: what happens when you break the cowboy hat rule? You and Jack finally spend much needed time together

(This is the sixth chapter of my HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• PART ONE TO FIFTEEN ON MY MASTERLIST

Warnings: fluff, romance, mentions of smut, teasing, dirty talk, making out, dry humping, sort of breeding kink, a little bit of lactation kink, thigh riding, smut (oral sex f!receiving, unprotected piv), mom!reader

A/N: I know we didn't have the cowboy last week and that made us all very sad, but personally, I think it was worth the wait, I hope you enjoyed it 🥰

5.9k words

The cowboy's heart beat faster and faster, his hands getting slightly sweaty to hold you tight against him, at the same time your words ran through his mind. You'd said yes, to marry him someday, to be his wife, to build a family with you. He couldn't even believe how happy and lucky he was.

You'd broken the cowboy hat rule on purpose, to symbolize how ready you were to be with him, of course he was excited about the sexual part, but it went further beyond that, it was about you and him and Wyatt and hopefully the kids you would have it in the future, about the chance he got from you. Jack was in a turmoil of feelings, only that this time they were good, positive feelings. The fear, the pain, the sadness were gone, ahead of him was just the happiness of having a family he wished for and craved through his entire life.

He looked down at you, wearing his hat and with a happy smile on your face, effortlessly beautiful, giggling at his touch as well as Wyatt who happily ran all over the place. For one split second Jack was sure he'd died on a mission and was sent to heaven, because that was his heaven: his family. But the kiss you placed on his lips was more than real, no heavenly fantasy would be able to reproduce the real deal. He knew those lips, he loved them, how soft they were, how good they tasted and how bad they could make a grown man cry.

You on the other hand, couldn't be happier about your cowboy and you; perhaps you had just low-key said yes to his proposal, but this time the consideration of marrying him didn't seem to be so scary, you would have to sit down with him and discuss things through, plan at least a couple of things for the future and sort out small details from your lives together, for example if you and Wyatt would permanently move onto the ranch and find a school for your son, for instance. But at that moment everything could wait, because the happiness you both were feeling was just too good, it wasn't like the old times with him - very often you had the habit of comparing situations - but instead, it was a new kind of happiness, the one you shared with your family. Even your son could sense how happy his mommy and daddy were, Wyatt had been having the happiest days of his life, but he was a sensitive boy and could tell when things were wrong, however, not this time, as he saw how his daddy held you tight and you giggled at him. He watched as you took his dad's hat and put it on your own head, how you stroked his cheek and kissed his lips, even if Wyatt thought those kisses were icky, it was cool to have his parents so united, maybe they could even become a big family, where the mommies lived with the daddies and their kids, just like he saw in the cartoons.

"Can I play in the inflatables, mommy?!" Your son suddenly interrupted your kiss, making you break contact with Jack and blush slightly to realize your son had been watching you two, of course he gave you the sweetest and most heartwarming puppy eyes you'd ever seen - courtesy of the Daniels' genes that ran in the family - and there was no way in the world you could say no to that little face. Clearing your throat, you nodded, chuckling at how he simply ran off, so excitedly to play some more. You turned your attention back to your cowboy, staring at him and taking in his handsome face. He'd gotten a little older with time, just like you had, but he was so handsome it made you go weak. Your hand ran through the side of his head, fingers burying into his fluffy hair, and running through it, before going a little south and stroking his cheek. Neither of you said a word, you didn't have to at that moment, because it was just you and him. The cowboy had a tight grip around you, he didn't let go of you for his dear life, you knew how much strength those hands carried and it was both assuring and arousing to know you were trapped in between them. Your body was pressed against his, he was always warm and if you rested your head against his chest, you could hear his heart beating. Perhaps it'd been the experience at the cemetery, or how you'd learned about his self-destructive behavior, but you were taken by a sudden fear of losing him. Your heart shattered just to imagine you could've lost him on different occasions and you looked down, letting out a sob before you could even realize it.

"Hey… what's wrong, sugar?" His voice was a soft purr, just as his touch: his fingers on your chin lifting your head up and making you look into his eyes. Jack Daniels didn't want to see his woman cry, whatever reason it was, he would do everything in his willpower to prevent that from happening. Now that you had said yes to him, that he would make you his wife, he wanted to shield you from anything bad in the world. He was terrified of losing another family in the same way, he would definitely have no reasons to keep going if that ever happened, so it was a scenario he didn't even like to think of.

"I-I'm sorry Jack… I got a little emotional. I just don't want to lose you, at all" you sniffed and dried your tears "I want our family to be complete, and I would like for you to also be careful when you go on your missions…" and you also wanted to tell him not to ever lose hope again, but you couldn't; his supposedly suicide attempts had been confided into you by Helen, you couldn't do that to her, at the same time you also didn't want your cowboy to be ashamed of what happened.

"Don't worry, princess… I'll take good care of myself because there ain't no way in hell I'll leave my family waiting for me back home" he winked at you and leaned in again, kissing your lips with a groan at the feeling of you tugging his hair.

Jack smiled between the kisses, his hand going towards your legs as the other sustained your back and he soon lifted you up, holding you in bridal style as you squealed surprised, wrapping your arms around his neck so you wouldn't lose balance

"What are you doing, Jack?!" You asked, feeling excited but also a little nervous. You had no idea what crossed your cowboy's mind, but you hoped he didn't have any crazy ideas, but he only chuckled and walked towards the inflatables, the two of you could see your son bouncing around, having so much fun but the moment he noticed the two of you, he frowned softly "mommy? What happened daddy?" He seemed puzzled to why his daddy was carrying his mommy, maybe she got hurt? But Wyatt didn't want to see his mommy hurt.

"Awe you huwt mommy?"

"Mommy ain't hurt, kid, but she was a little upset so I'm guessing she should jump a little and have some fun, don't you think?" Whiskey winked at his son, who clapped his little hands excitedly and opened space for Jack to get inside the bounce house, so thrilled to have his parents to play with him.

He finally put you down but Wyatt held your hand tight "jump mommy!!! Play with me!"

Perhaps you were still very emotional, but just the fact you saw your son's happiness all over his gorgeous face, the way his bright innocent eyes lit up with excitement at your presence melted your heart and made you tear up. You nodded at him and pulled him for a tight hug "of course my love, mommy and daddy will play with you my angel" you said taking Jack's hand into yours and the three of you bounced together, slowly at first, but increasing the speed as Wyatt had more and more fun. If someone ever told you one day you'd be playing in a bounce house with your son and his father after you jumped into his arms and told him that yes, you were willing to marry him, you'd have laughed your ass off, thinking they were just crazy to make up the most absurd story but there you were, enjoying every single small detail you could. Your future husband and your son. Butterflies in your stomach swirled inside every time you thought of it: marrying Jack. You wanted it, but you were also scared. The rational side of you wanted to take things slow and wait, but the other part of you, the one driven by your heart, that barely could contain your feelings, just wanted your happy ending as soon as possible.

Tiredly sitting down, Wyatt joined you, getting comfortable on your lap and sighing happily, while Jack joined the two of you and pulled you closer. You three caught your breaths, in a comfortable silence that said a lot about how happy you were at that moment. You felt Whiskey's hand on your hair, tucking a strand of it behind your ear in such affectionate way, he had always been careful with it, he'd always loved it, the way it felt under his touch, always soft and smooth, the smell of it, burying his face into it so he could have a peaceful night of sleep. He moved some of it away from your neck, leaning in and pecking it, sending goosebumps all over your skin at the sudden contact. He eyes his son and smirked at how distracted his little boy was, so he kissed your neck again, more intensely this time, his teeth nibbling it at the same time you bit your bottom lip so you wouldn't moan out loud in a fucking inflatable toy.

"Better catch your breath, sugar, you'll be doing a lot of bouncing tonight…" he whispered against your ear loud enough so only you would hear it. Smirking at you with a dumb smile while picking up his stetson that had fallen while you were all playing and putting it back on. You'd broken the cowboy hat rule and it was about time you rode your cowboy. Yet, his words sent a fire sensation down your core, one that unabled you from thinking and the only thing you could mumbled was your cowboy's name. He chuckled and kissed your neck a third time, his mustache tickling your skin at the same time he placed his warm hand on your thigh, stroking it softly and watching how affected you were by his simplest touch.

"I-I think it's time for us to get inside, daddy will help you open your presents and mommy will make us a yummy dessert, what do you say?" You ran your fingers through your son's hair, getting your shit back together and wanting to get away from that bounce house as soon as possible. Jack's touches were enough to set you on fire and you needed to step away from him for a little while so you could catch your breath and act normal in front of your son, besides, you'd picked a bunch of fresh peaches and you wanted to prepare your cowboy his favorite pie, it would always make him happy when you did so and you just wanted to show him how important he was for you.

There was also the fact you knew your son always behaved and obeyed his dad, which meant that if Jack told him it was enough bouncing for the day, he wouldn't whine or try his dirty trick of giving you the sweetest and saddest puppy eyes seen by the human race. Whiskey could keep Wyatt entertained inside with opening his presents and playing and hopefully he would be tired in a matter of time, being safely tucked into bed and giving his mommy and daddy some much needed alone time. Jack nodded at Wyatt, who pouted at first but agreed on exiting after the promises of opening his presents. As the southern gentleman he was, your cowboy helped your son hop off the toy and then helped you, smirking up and down at your body. You knew that grin, that heavy breathing and how he stood at the entrance, stopping you from getting out, holding you and pressing you down against the bouncing floor, his lips once more teasing your skin, kissing up and down your throat, his mustache leaving soft burns all over you. You bit your lips, looking into his eyes, his brown ones shooting you a burning gaze; you knew him, his hunger for you, it was so intense he could take you right there, but you also knew how patient your cowboy could be when it came to teasing his soft little prey. His heavy breathing against your chest now, as he pulled the fabric of your dress down just enough to expose your cleavage, spreading ghostly kisses all over it, his teeth nibbling you gently at first, at the same time you let out a soft whimper.

"Jack, you're teasing me…" you whined as your cowboy chuckled, his hands going to the hem of your pretty dress, lifting it up, exposing your thighs for his delight.

"You want more, sugar? I bet you missed your cowboy, didn't ya?" He saw as you nodded "you've been so dirty for breaking the cowboy hat rule, how about I fuck you here? You don't even need help to bounce on my cock, would you like that, sweetheart? Being pounded like a little slut in an inflatable toy? Sounds like you're a whore for my cock, are you, baby girl?"

"Mm yes, cowboy" you bit your lips, squealing as his lips went for your stomach, pecking it all his way down the hem of your panties. You instinctively parted your legs for Jack, feeling his hands going under your thighs, going up until your round ass, squeezing and rubbing your cheeks. He loved the pleasure little sounds that came out of your filthy lovely mouth. He knew what you were capable of doing with his cock, but he needed to be patient. If he'd waited until that moment to savory you, he wouldn't rush things up now, so he ran his hands to your sides entwining his fingers on the sides of your panties, pulling them down and not breaking eye contact with you at all.

"What are you doing, Jack?" You asked him, feeling your cunt clenching at nothing, being so turned on at the simplest touch; no man could ever do that to you but your cowboy. He knew you entirely, knowing just how to press your buttons and play you like his toy.

He looked down at your naked pussy and it took him all of his willpower not to touch you right there and then, but he had further plans for you. Taking your panties off he chuckled at you, showing you the wet spot on the thin cloth and smirked "barely touched ya and you're already wet for me, angel… now let's see if you're still as sweet as I remember" the cowboy whispered his words hiding his obscene intentions at the same time he took your panties to his face, licking the puddle of your wetness, groaning at the taste before shoving your delicate piece of lingerie into his back pocket.

"You're still the sweetest cunt I've ever tasted, no wonder you're my sugar" he placed his hands on his waist and watched as you pulled your dress down and looked at him in a mix of embarrassment and desire. You pulled Jack by the shoulders, kissing him as deeply and intensely as you wanted, tasting yourself briefly on his lips, you felt you could stay there forever, if it weren't for Wyatt's voice interrupting you.

"Mommy!!! Daddy!!! We need to open the pwesents!" He shouted excitedly from the front door and you managed to cover yourself even more.

"Coming, cowboy!!!" Jack shouted back and waved at his son, who giggled and ran back inside. Then, he extended his hand towards you, helping you up but snapping your hand away from his back pocket

"They're mine now, sugar, so you better behave as your sweet cunt is now exposed for me" he winked at you and made you blush softly.

•••

"What awe you doing, mommy?" Wyatt tilted his head curiously as he stood next to you, watching your every move attentively, loving the smell of whatever mysterious dessert you were making and warming your heart at the fact your son was definitely just like his daddy: crazy about his peach pie.

"I'm making grandma Daniels recipe, honey: peach pie… your daddy used to love this dessert when he was little like you, his grandma would make it for him almost every week, and when mommy and daddy lived together, I also used to prepare it for him and he loved it!" You explained to your son, loving how surprised and happy he got at that information. While Jack was in the living room, picking up the shredded pieces of colorful paper that once gift-wrapped Wyatt's birthday presents. Since your cowboy took care of your son, you went to the kitchen to prepare his pie, being too agitated to focus on anything or nothing at all, it didn't matter if you wanted to actually distract yourself or not: all you could think of was Jack Daniels.

The way he had barely touched you and yet your whole body was set on fire, or the simple anticipation for the moment you would share in a little while, after all those years apart from each other, couldn't contain the lust you were feeling for that man. There was no denying you couldn't resist to him, he was intoxicating, poisonous even, the kind of touch to linger on you and make your skin burn at the memory, even if you'd freshened up and changed to another cute and tempting summer dress - without panties, respecting your cowboy wishes - you could still feel the warm slick pooling between your folds each time you moved. After going over all the amazing presents your son got, you decided to hide away in the kitchen hoping you'd be able to think of something else, but it was no use: your memory took you back to the bounce house.

Wyatt's presence helped you snap away from your wet daydreams as you explained to him all about the new sweet you were making, he was very curious and his tummy was very happy to know he would be trying that delicious treat soon. You had never eaten peach pie again, not after you and Jack broke up, it was one the small little things that reminded you of him and it made everything even more painful, but now you had no reason to dwell into that puddle of sadness any longer, you and the cowboy were back together, your family was happily united and you were so ready to be railed by your cowboy until sunlight.

Only when your son fell asleep though.

And by the excited way he was chatting and asking questions, it seemed it would still take a while; you chuckled to yourself at the situation, Jack had insisted on having another child and yet you two couldn't even handle one. It was one of those sweet ironies of life and you wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.

"I thought you said you'd climb upstairs and change into your new cow PJs so you would show mommy you're a big boy now?" Whiskey folded his arm and stared at Wyatt with a serious expression only to soften up and open his arms to his son, who giggled and ran to his daddy's embrace. Someone had gifted your son a new pair of cow themed pajamas and he was really excited to put it on, wanting you to see he could do it on his own. Your heart clenched at pride of seeing your son was growing up and becoming an independent little child and also at the fact perhaps he was growing up too fast. However, you lost your track of thoughts the moment he disappeared into the second floor running as fast as his little legs allowed him in order to get changed and the cowboy cornered you.

Feeling his presence on your back, he held your hips and pulled your body against his.

"I like this new dress, sugar… aren't ya all fresh and sweet for your cowboy? You know I've been thinking of this sweet pussy the whole night, right? You've been such a filthy little whore, breaking the cowboy hat rule on purpose, and all for what? Leaving me with a hard on? Getting this tight pretty pussy soaked for me?" His filthy words whispered like a prayer into your ears was more than enough reason for you to press your thighs together. The knot of anxiety, anticipation and lust all mixed up together in your lower belly just made you want to ignore everything around and spread your legs so he could take you right there. You were so slippery all he would need to do would be slide into you into one single motion and have his way with you. Never in your life, you thought you would be aching to be Jack Daniels' cum slut again.

He trailed more kisses down your neck towards your shoulder, at the same time he lifted your dress just enough to reveal your named ass cheeks, satisfied to see you didn't have anything on underneath it, exactly the way he liked you. Pressing his crotch against your ass, you finally felt the damage you'd left on your cowboy's pants. He was rock hard, probably had been for a while, and it was pretty satisfying to realize he was as affected by you, as you were by him.

The two of you were a match and no one could state it otherwise.

"Feel it, sugar… this is what you do to me. There ain't no other like you in the world, no other chick would ever be able to make me this hard, no one would ever be as sweet as you are, I can't wait to feel you all over me"

At his words, you grinded against his crotch. The low groan escaping his lips was enough for you to do it again, your naked ass cheeks grinding against his boner, hands tightening the grip on your hips as his own met yours at the same pace, pressing you harder against it so it would apply more pressure. He threw his head back, loving how it felt to be humping you like that, he was throbbing under his pants, seeking relief and hoping he would last a decent amount of time when he finally fucked you.

"Don't forget your cowgirl boots tonight, sugar… you gotta be dressed for riding" he gave your ass one soft slap as unfortunately, it didn't last long as small steps were heard coming down the stairs, so he lowered your dress carefully and sat at the kitchen table, pretending nothing had happened the minute Wyatt walked into the kitchen.

•••

You couldn't even believe it when your son finally closed his little eyes and went straight to dreamland. It seemed it'd taken forever for it to happen. You'd had enough time to finish baking your pie, letting it cool down and only after a glass of warm milk and two bedtime stories, Wyatt finally fell asleep. You told Jack you'd tuck your son into bed, while the cowboy went to his own, you knew he was probably sorting some things out which again, shot another wave of anticipation down your body. It felt kind of ethereal to know you would be sleeping together in a matter of time, but you were so excited and willing to submit yourself whole to your cowboy, and you could bet he was feeling just the same for you. Kissing your son's forehead goodnight, you left his bedroom as quietly as possible and went to your own, wanting to take a look at yourself and make sure you were looking alright for him. You got your cowboy boots and put them on, checking yourself in the mirror, you decided not to put on any lingerie, just your short light dress and your boots would be enough to ride your cowboy. You just brushed your hair a little and went to Jack's room.

Your heart was hammering on your chest, and you felt quite anxious. On the one hand you were going to come back to the pleasure you knew, loved and craved; on the other hand, it was almost like you were as nervous as when you lost your virginity. You would be officially Jack's and he would be yours, much to your happiness, you were about to become one again. You knocked on his door and bit your lips, looking down at your own boots as he opened the door, and you could see in his eyes he had all the Whiskey in him; your sweet Jack was out of the room and entered the dirtiest man you'd ever met: Agent Whiskey.

His leather jacket was gone, but he stood in his full cowboy glory, with his riding boots, tight jeans and stetson on, enough to make your mouth water and you crash your lips against his, feeling the hunger for that man overwhelming your judgment and your senses. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into the room and locking the door behind you. His hands went immediately to your ass, squeezing them and dragging a moan from you. Jack chuckled in between kisses and nibbled your bottom lip

"Remember you asked me for a date? I got one for ya, sugar" he winked and took you by the hand, guiding you to the balcony of his room, where a table was sat with two glasses and some of the finest beverages by Statesman. He pulled the chair for you, making sure to use his manners, and earning a sweet smile. That old broken heart of his wasn't that broken anymore, as it filled with love each time more, each time he spent next to you. He sat down, manspreading on his chair, which made you lick your lips, at the sight of his big bulge. He followed your eyes on him straight to his crotch and licked his own lips, smirking

"Guess you don't wanna go on a date, Suger?" You shook your head and he nodded, patting his thigh so you'd sit on it.

It didn't take you seconds to just jump from your seat to his lap, feeling so hot and bothered at the man's body so close to yours.

"I have broken the cowboy hat rule Jack, you gotta do something about it" you teased him, welcoming his lips for another kiss, at the same time his hands played with the straps from your dress, pulling them down and watched as the cloth ran down your perfect chest, exposing your tits for him.

"Look at that, sugar… how beautiful your tits are. I missed them" his thumb ran over your nipple, loving how it hardened under his touch. You were always so responsive to it, it pleased that cowboy to no end. He kissed your throat, sinking his teeth into your skin, not caring if he would leave a trail of hickeys all over it, getting his mouth onto your nipples, licking them gently, one at a time, before suckling on them, you were still as sensitive as he remembered.

"I want them fuller, sugar… I want to see your tits so damn big full of milk… too bad I missed it with our first cowboy, but I'm definitely putting a baby in you very soon…" he mumbled against your nipple before latching onto it and suckling on it once more. You took the stetson off his head, placing it on the table and burying your fingers into his soft hair, tugging at it gently as he took time with your breasts. You parted your legs shifting your weight and sitting on his thigh, lifting your dress up above your waist, your wet, slippery cunt straight against his rough jeans as you loved your hips slowly at first, closing your eyes and enjoying the pleasurable feeling.

His right hand went for your waist, holding you and helping you grind your needy count against his thigh. His jeans were thick and it made your clit so sensitive at the friction, Jack wouldn't leave your nipples, face buried deep between your breasts.

"How are you putting a baby inside if all you do is tease and not fuck me?" You blurted out, the impatience and the need for his cock making its appearance as you needed him. Jack frowned and stopped everything he was doing, holding you by the hips and swatted your ass hard, making you whimper and kissed you deeply, wanting to show you who was in charge there. The cowboy would take care of your dirty mouth and your tight sweet pussy. He broke the kiss and got his hat, placing it on your head. It was finally time for you to ride your cowboy.

•••

The way he got up, pulling you to him and carrying you to the bed as if you weighed nothing, only added more lust to your hopeless case. You needed that man and you would do anything for him in order to fuck you; it would be too easy for him to lay on the bed and just fuck you there, he needed more, he wanted you to ride him, and he was definitely willing to have every inche of your body. Finally stripping you off your summer dress and having you standing in your naked glory in front of him with the exception of your riding boots and your hat, this cock was about to burst his pants. He was painfully hard, but he knew it was worth the wait. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he pulled you closer, admiring every inch of you, he scanned your naked body meticulously as if it was the last time he would ever spot such beauty.

"Don't be shy, sugar" he cooed and kissed your stomach again, resting his head on it briefly and closing his eyes as if he'd said a prayer in gratitude for having his family back. Then, he quickly got rid of his clothes, kicking them out in a sloppy way here and there, before finally lying onto the mattress and relaxing. He pulled you on top of him, seeing you were ready to take his cock inside, but he wanted more than that, so he pulled you closer, towards his chest "ride your cowboy now, sugar, don't hold back though" giving you the order, even if it was in his soft voice. You understood perfectly what he wanted and you were going to give it to him. Getting even closer to his handsome face, you spread your thighs aiming his head between them, and lowered yourself, throwing your head back and letting out a loud and intense moan the moment you felt his devilish tongue against your slit.

He hadn't tasted sweeter sugar than you and he never would, because you were the only one he ever craved and wanted. His tongue explored your delicious cunt, running up and down your slit, going deep into your pussy hole until it finally settled on your hard needy clit. His hands showing you the pace, which you picked up quickly, of course still a little shy in the beginning, but moving as soon as the pleasure build up inside of you. You rode your cowboy's face, his perfect nose brushing against your clit as his perfectly trimmed mustache was a mess because of your wetness, you knew you were too close. It was only the first out of the many times you and Jack would spend together, for the rest of your lives, you reminded yourself. There was no need to try and make it last, you both couldn't wait. He was your honey, your sweetness and your knot was so tight in your lower belly, the moment he told you to let go, you did it without thinking twice; your pussy clenching and making a mess on your cowboy, your clit throbbing and so sensitive and yet, you just gathered the energy you had within and moved to his lap, knowing he couldn't wait any longer. You massaged his cock, you'd missed it his thick length so much, you missed teasing his leaking tip, caressing his heavy balls and making him cum as hard as he made you do the same, but now you didn't need to worry, because that would become your new routine, and you couldn't wait for it.

You held him by the base and sank your slippery cunt down his length, feeling him stretching you up the way no man ever had. When he got as deep as he could, you placed both hands on his chest to look for balance, before moving your hips the way you knew it drove Whiskey crazy. When you relationship began, shortly after you two had met years ago, he had joked he fell in love with you and the way you moved your hips while riding him, and there was some truth behind that; but it wasn't just that, it was everything else. That cowboy had fallen for you at first sight and there was nothing he wanted more than make you his forever. You fastened your pace, riding him and feeling how his cock throbbed inside of you, loving every second of it

"Come on Jack, give it all to me cowboy, it's your turn" you whispered to him, feeling another orgasm approaching and working on it, wanting to cum more, at the same time he finally let go and shot his load inside of it. You could feel every inch of him inside, his thick hot cum going as deep as it could reach and you only collapsed on top of him, resting your head on his chest while you tried catching your breath. Jack tried doing the same, since he was silent and it was quite difficult for that cowboy to ever shut up, it was the proof he was coming down from his bliss as well. You smiled lazily and pecked his chest, seeing how some of his chest hair was already going gray and felt a wave of affection for him.

Your Jack.

Your cowboy.

"I love you" you whispered against his skin, the confession everyone knew but you hadn't dared to say it out loud, not until that moment, but it was necessary, you wanted him to know, to hear about, to feel it, everything about your love. You loved that cowboy with all your heart and he loved you just the same, and from that moment on you two could finally be the family you were meant to be from the start.

____

A/N: I love this cowboy so much 😍😭🤠

[lewis-winters]

3 and 6 for the positivity meme?

I'll answer this backwards because my answer to no. 3 got long.

6 - what's a headcanon that you'll die on that hill?

Lewis Nixon III was a theater kid and has done drag in his life. This is forreal. The ghost of Dick Winters revealed this to me in a dream.

3 - what are some fics you go back and read again and again?

oh I love this question. in the last ask I did say I left out some creators and now is my time to redeem myself! (also another reminder that I desperately need to finish this massive fic rec post I have been steadily adding fics to since January BUT ANYWAY)

under the cut!

all of @churchkey's Winnix and ToyeMalarkey fics! god do I love them so much. I re-read A Spell of Riot once a year since it was completed.

and of course @anthrobrat's Bob, TP, and Gen Kill fics!

all of BristlingBassoon's Winnix fics - Queen for a Day inspired my "Lewis has done drag" conviction and When we met, you'd never expect this series is just. divine.

@marycontraire's Contact Tracing. of course.

make it up as we go along - Joe drives his cab, Chuck plays Call of Duty, and Babe just wants to pass Biochem; their apartment is like Grand Central at the best of times and that’s without the two possible fugitives they decided to harbor in the guest room; Luz’s life is turning into a terrible romcom about a coffee shop; Harry’s friends are bad at running a bar but they’re trying their best; somebody got punched in the face; and someday there will be a New York Times Bestseller about all of it.

Or, the interlinked soap opera-worthy drama of a group of millennials in Philadelphia, told day by day.

Lie if God is Sleeping - Gene flipped the puzzle over to read the back. “My name is Edward Heffron,” he read aloud. “I killed a man, and now I’m paying the price. 18,000 pieces. It will take approximately seven days to complete me. For experienced players only.”

What the fuck was a curse this nasty doing in a Philadelphia used bookstore?

rivers always reach the sea - my favorite webgott canon era series fic ever

Situation Normal - Winters and Nixon move to the city, reunite with some old friends and find themselves adopting a new, four-legged one.

By Small and Small - Babe wants to keep talking with Gene, but he doesn’t really know what to say. He feels like, in the past, he never would’ve shut up, but now, since Julian, he’s just got nothing. Maybe that’s grieving; Bill says that’s grieving, anyway, but Bill uses the term like a Band-Aid to put over every aspect of Babe that has changed.

Or: The one where Gene is in med school and Babe's messed up over Julian.

Dear Lover - A group of friends who supervise soldiers' mail are secretly very invested in one Major Winters' letters to a woman he seems to be having a secret affair with.

all or SJtrinity's Band of Brothers (webgott) fics and The Pacific (sledgefu and andyeddie) fics

Green and Gold - Merriell has dark magic and a guilty conscious. He never considered how the war would change them.

The American Sublime - "Tactician that he is, he finds the likelihood of still being loved by someone who, thanks to him, has just awakened to a wicked hangover and a face full of cold piss next to nil."

Dick Winters and Lewis Nixon billet together at a farmhouse in Holland for a rare few weeks of peace and privacy, while Dick struggles to process his promotion and his time away from Easy Company. Set during the first minutes of Episode 5, "Crossroads."

Cows. Wildflowers. Feelings. Handjobs.

Black Ink on Some Blue Lines - It’s been sixteen years since the letter was written, but it never found its way to the one it was intended for. The thing about secrets is they eat away at you, not all at once but slowly over the years, and you begin to wonder, to play out the what if scenarios in your mind. Instead, David buried it away and pretended like it never existed. He should have killed it, he thinks to himself, not buried it while it still had breath in its lungs.

In which David remembers his evolving relationship with Joe over the course of the war and decides to deliver a letter.

Baby You Can Drive My Car - Everyone has their thing. Perco takes watches. Nix scrounges for liquor. Welsh continues his never-ending quest for anything that will please Kitty Grogan. Even Eugene robs abandoned apothecaries with only a touch of guilt, making off with as many bandages and sulfa packets as he can carry. And then there’s Speirs, sweeping behind them like a shadow and carrying away anything they leave behind that sparkles or shines.

Babe steals cars. He’s getting pretty good at it.

Come in From the Cold - In which Smokey Gordon's coffee shop 'Bastogne' saves lives by lending cutting instruments and offering a steady supply of caffeine and sugary goodness. The shenanigans are just a by-product.

Call me 'sweetheart', Please? by @mariamegale - A not-relationship in the making. (baberoe)

anthroposcene, interrupted - Three months ago, Ray Person was a Philosophy major at Harvard. Now, he's dodging Runners trying to get from St. Louis to Cambridge without a) starving, b) dying by accident or c) offing himself. However, three's company, and it comes in the form of a dog with no bark and a taciturn Marine Staff Sergeant who's last name is Not-Pitt, which has gotta count for something.

[mannytoodope]

Linda:(singing) ♪ Lookin’ at ♪ ♪ The receipts from the restaurant ♪♪ ♪Keep ’em in a shoebox ♪ ‘Cause we’re so organized ♪Accountants think we’re great. ♪

Bob: Mm.

Linda: What?

Bob: It’s just we’ve sold so few burgers of the day last month.

Linda: Well, last month was stupid. What does it know?

Bob: I don’t get it. I spend all this time and energy picking out fun ingredients for the burgers of the day. And last month, we had some really good ones. The Stilton of the Night burger. The… If I Had a Pumper-nickel Burger. The Arugulas of Engagement Burger. I mean, come on.

Linda: Yeah, they’re all home runs or grand slams or whichever one of those is better. I guess people just like what’s familiar.

Gene: That’s why I stick with the two of you.

Linda: Hey, there’s some of my old photos at the bottom of this box.How’d they get there? They’re supposed to be in the “I’m gonna make an amazing photo album someday” box.

Gene: And you’re definitely gonna make that photo album.

Linda:(gasps) Look. This is when I had braces. Ha. Talk about heavy metal.

Gene: Ooh, awkward-phase Mommy. Braces in all the right places.

Linda: Aw. Here’s a picture of the fort my dad built in our backyard.

Bob:(skeptical)That looks like a great… fort.

Gene: Is this one of those Back to the Future pictures where the fort disappeared because your mom fell in love with you?

Linda: Well, my dad bought the wood, and he started to build it, but he never actually finished it.

Bob: Why not?

Linda: I think the game came on, then he had to go to the bathroom, then it was dinnertime, and then it was winter. I asked my mom if she could help me build it, and she said she and I weren’t the kind of people who build stuff.

Bob: That sounds like something awful your mom would say.

Gene: That’s not genetic, right? I built a bear that one time.

Linda: Yeah. This might not go in the amazing photo album drawer. Maybe that’s why it was in the sad receipt box. Sorry, Bob. Great receipts.

Bob: This one’s great. Somebody ordered extra cheese. 50 cents. That’s going into the college fund.

Gene: Which one of us is going to college? Not it

[dotthings]

Hi! I've seen your posts about Star Trek and I was wondering, do you have a recommendation for a good starting point for a newbie?

Asking because sometimes I get curious and think about giving it a try someday, but I have no clue where to even start!

What a really fun question!!! That I'm not completely sure how to answer, because I was into Star Trek for a while and then I drifted for a long time and now I'm back in because I finally decided to try out the new set of Star Trek tv shows. (I've seen most Star Trek things...but not everything, but I did watch a lot for a while).

But the simplest answer, because I got back in via Star Trek Discovery and have fallen in love with it, is to start there. Some of the impact of legacy characters showing up might be diminished if you don't know much context and history, but they are compelling as is, and you will fall in love with the Discovery characters. Especially I think you'd enjoy Michael Burnam's journey and the relationships among the crew, the canon space husbands, Cadet Tilly, the themes and emotional depth, and how casually inclusive it is, in an intersectional way. It's like modern Star Trek gets closer and closer to the ideas and hopes about the future Gene Roddenberry wanted to convey, as the actual representation on screen gets better and better. Star Trek was always inclusive and always ground-breaking, but the current group of shows are more fully backing up the ideals due to the extent of the representation. And wow, they're pretty, visually.

Also Star Trek Discovery is a prequel, set before (almost?) everything else, which means it works on a dual level. For people already familiar with Star Trek, it's exciting when something or someone familiar shows up. For people getting into it new, it's set before other things happen so that makes it a good starting point.

I'm planning to go through all the new crop of series and then see about rewatching some of the older Trek I remember enjoying. One of the new series, Picard, might need background with Star Trek: The Next Generation but then again, maybe not. Because those characters are going to be compelling anyway. And might make you want to watch ST: TNG (which is going to seem...uh...clunky by today's TV style standards but I did love it).

[a-separate-peace-musical]

Finale

Who else loves a good reprise medley finale?

—

Lights up. GENE cleans out his locker. HE walks outside. Troops are there, with tanks and artillery and sewing machines for parachutes. BRINKER walks over.

BRINKER

Hey, Gene. Ready to enlist?

GENE

I guess so.

BRINKER

My dad’s here. He wants to meet you.

MR. HADLEY approaches.

MR. HADLEY

Look at those doughboys! And their artillery—sewing machines!

BRINKER

This war is technical, so they’ve got to use all kinds of machines. Even sewing machines.

MR. HADLEY

Well, I can’t imagine any man in my time settling for duty on a sewing machine. I can’t picture that at all.

(to Gene)

So what are you enlisting in, son? There are so many exciting things to enlist in these days. Frogmen, the Paratroops…I’d give something to be a kid again with all that to choose from.

GENE

Well, I was going to wait, but then I figured…

Why wait to be drafted when we can choose now?

Control our own fate as much as they’ll allow

So I’m joining the Navy. I’ll never see a foxhole, I hope. And Brinker’s all set for the Coast Guard.

MR. HADLEY

The Coast Guard?!

BRINKER

You know, Dad, the Coast Guard does some very rough stuff.

MR. HADLEY shakes his head.

MR. HADLEY

What world am I living in?

Has everyone gone mad?

Get on up and be a man

‘Cause there’s a world war and real work to be had

Disappointed in kids these days

They wouldn’t know honor if it hit them in the face

If I was your age, I wouldn’t be playing it safe

You have to do what’s right

Whatever you feel is right

Just make sure it’s something you’ll be proud of in hindsight

‘Cause this is your moment

This will decide the rest of your lives, it’s true

The stories that you tell of this will define you

And you don’t wanna be the kids left behind

BRINKER rolls his eyes. MR. HADLEY walks away. BRINKER scowls.

BRINKER

Sorry about my dad.

GENE

It’s all right.

BRINKER

It’s all that World War I malarkey that gets me. I’m no hero, and neither are you. And neither is he. He never was. I don’t care what he says he almost did in World War I.

GENE

I think he just feels left out, being too old for the war this time.

BRINKER

Left out! Left out! He and his crowd are responsible for it!

The war, it started, before our time

We committed no crime

But now it’s our duty to go and die

While the ones who caused this just sit idly by

It’s all just a trade

A deal in the works for decades

We’ll take their place to pay for the mess that they’ve made

The old men made this and we’re stuck in the middle

And nobody cares, not even just a little

It almost feels like a prank they’re having

It’s such a joke but I’m not laughing

BRINKER walks away. GENE stands there, contemplating. HE turns to the audience.

GENE

I don’t think I believe him

It’d be safe if it were true

But war supersedes generation

Where there’s ignorance and fear, it follows too

HE looks around at the war reminders around him. HE looks up at the sky.

GENE

Things at Devon are different these days

The atmosphere is sadder lately

No one talks about you ‘cause I can’t talk about you

Not in the past tense, someday maybe

Now that I’ve lost you

Feels like I’ve lost myself

But I think it was long ago

that I really lost myself

In a world of my own

A separate construct of ignorance

And I missed the true separate peace we had found

What I wouldn’t give to go back to it now

The evil in the world couldn’t break you

So the evil in me did it instead

But you took it with you

Now it’s dead

It died with you

And my fears of the war, they all slip away

Like dew in the sunlight, evaporating

‘Cause what’s there to fear, when you’ve already killed

Your enemy, the fear and the hatred within

GENE marches away as PATRIOTIC MUSIC plays. Lights dim slightly.

OLDER GENE approaches and looks at the building. HE looks at the stairs Finny fell down.

ENSEMBLE

Return to Devon

1957

OLDER GENE

Things at Devon look strangely the same

Updated so they haven’t aged a day

Plus c'est la même chose, plus ça change

The more things stay the same, the more they change

Locked myself in a prison/of resentment and fear

I didn’t even realize/but now it’s so clear

But I felt no fear in the war

I felt no fear anymore

‘Cause what’s there to fear, when you’ve already killed

Your enemy, the fear and the hatred within

You took it with you

It died with you

HE goes to stare at the tree. HE places a hand on the trunk.

OLDER GENE

It doesn’t look so big and fearsome anymore

Ain't it funny how nothing endures

Not a tree, not love, not death by violence

And we find and we lose ourselves in the silence

The memory of seventeen still lingers

Our innocence, it slipped right through our fingers

We found ourselves pitted against the world and the war

We reacted with hostility to the horrors

Leper lost his mind when he saw it

Brinker lived in quiet resentment against it

Quackenbush lashed out in attack

I built up unnecessary defenses

Only Finny didn’t

He rose above

With affection and love

The rest built up Maginot lines

Against enemies in their minds

Who never attacked in the way that they thought

If they ever really existed at all

We, as a society, take a great fall

Fighting enemies that never existed at all

HE stands there, still touching the tree. Lights dim.

THE END

[storyshark2005]

VI. A Week in Mustique i loove this one <3

Thank you for the ask!! I love this one too -- have some Sonny and Uncle Liam bonding!! This next chapter will be Liam POV (I've not finished the chapter, it's going slow, and I've been a bit diverted with Carraville, but hoping to finish this chapter and keep it going) ***

Liam spots the lad he’s looking for, holding tight to a palm tree, stretching his skinny little leg behind his back like he’s Usain Bolt warming up for the Olympics. He doesn’t have the Gallagher look about him at all; not the eyebrows, or his father’s nose, or the sour little mouth that Donovan had inherited. Liam supposes he must look like his mother. But then the kid reaches up to rub at his eye, and his whole face sort of scrunches up disagreeably, and it’s a kick in the chest how like a little Noely G. he is, just for a flash of a second. Liam cups his hands around his mouth and shouts at the top of his lungs: “BUMBACLART!” 

Sonny fairly jumps out of his skin, eyes going all cartoon-y and round. 

“What the fuck, Uncle Liam?!” 

Liam laughs and gives him a thorough scruffle round about the ears. “Alright little potato?! Where’s your brother, ain’t he coming with?” 

Sunny pats his hair back into place. “Nah, he’s still sleeping. Lazy cunt. Anais said she wanted to come, but I think her sunburn’s still really sore, so I didn’t try to wake her up.”

“Ah, poor girl. She taking care of herself?” 

“Yeah. Molly’s been helping put the aloe on and everything. And Gene won’t stop bringing her bottles of coconut water. He’s being really weird about it, it’s like-- she’s not fucking dying!”  

“Ah, always been a softie, our Gene. Good he’s lookin’ after her.”

“Yeah, but it’s her own fucking fault, innit? Like, how stupid can you be?! We were on a boat, in the sun, for like-- five hours! How do you just forget to put sunscreen on?!” 

Sonny gives a disapproving shake of the head, hands propped up on his hips. 

Liam laughs, and gives his nephew a slap on the back. “Someday you’ll see, Little G. After a drink or two you stop being so smart.” 

“I think even after about a hundred beers, I’d remember-- you’re in the middle of the fucking Carribbean! I mean we’re basically right on the fucking equator!” 

They take off on a slow jog, and Sonny promises not to leave Liam in the dust. There’s a nice firmer bit of sand nearer the water where their feet don’t sink in so much, so they stick to running along the beach, watching the sun slowly peek up over the ocean. Sonny’s got a little Nike digital watch, so Liam tells him to say summat when they’ve gone a half-hour; and there they stop for a rest and kick sand and throw rocks into the surf, watching the morning sun turn the dark water orange and pink and blue. Sonny keeps up his bright little chatter pretty much the whole hour, like a little wind-up toy that Liam prompts with a question every so often; about school, his guitar playing, football, girls-- Sonny’s got a couple of prospects but ‘nothing serious’, according to him. (Geezer, Liam thinks. He’ll be a right little lady killer, will Sonny G.)

When they finally get back to the villa, Liam can hear a bit of clatter from the kitchen, but the house is still dark and quiet. Sonny gives him a high-five and begs off for a shower and a couple more hours of sleep. 

“Oh, I almost forgot,” he turns back around and says in a sheepish voice: “Happy Birthday, Uncle Liam.” 

They hug, and Liam has to work hard not to cry. It makes him think about all the birthday parties he’s missed out on, and all the ones he’s going to get to go to from now on. And it’s all very happy and achy inside his chest. 

Sonny tromps back to his bunk. Liam watches him go, the sweaty parts of his hair sticking up from where Liam had hugged him too tight and ruffled his hair. He looks like a baby deer still, right at the age before they start to turn into men, when they still laugh at stupid jokes, and they’re not too cool for kid stuff and cartoons. So maybe Liam’s still got a bit of time left to be Sonny’s funny cool uncle. 

Anyway. It feels like the start to the best birthday ever.

***

[fawnssy]

little character descriptions based off of the lom wonderland au i’m writing!!

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SAM ( SAMUEL ) TYLER: a smart copper who knows what he’s doing.. at least, he thinks he does. his day goes from an utter mess to him being full of complete curiosity when he spots a white rabbit with a pocket watch. soon, sam finds himself in a new place, almost like he’s landed on a different planet full of random creatures, endless tea parties, advice-giving caterpillars and even grinning cats. is it all just in his head or is wonderland really real as the caterpillar says?

THE WHITE RABBIT/GENE HUNT: late, late, late! that’s all gene really worries about. gene is one of those kinds of people when it comes to still having his mind, and his head, intact. sometimes he’ll venture out into the ‘real’ world to do little tasks for the queen, or just things for himself. he might look cute and fuzzy, but he’s more like a brash, loud talker. deep down, though, maybe he’s got more of a softer side to himself.. if anyone can even find it. he’s been noted to change forms at will, going from a small rabbit to something that can only be described as ‘human’, as everyone else ‘upstairs’ likes to call it. it’s strange how no one’s asked why he has rabbit ears and a fluffy tail up there..

THE MAD HATTER/CHRIS SKELTON: just a warning, nothing he says makes any sense. the mad hatter doesn’t go by any other names. other than hatter, hattie, mister hatter.. you get the idea, he likes hats. he enjoys obsessing over tea, which he does a LOT. he sees himself as proper, polite, pleasant. y’know, words that sound nice! he’s also really into musicals, so he’ll probably start singing out of nowhere to give himself a ‘big entrance’ of sorts. to him, up is down and big is small. nothing matters to him except his tea. hatter has never seen what the real world looks like, though others believe he’s at least seen a glimpse of it. some say he used to be one of the ‘normal’ ones before he fell down the hole and decided to stay in wonderland entirely. but— that’s nonsense! he’s been in wonderland his whole life. how could he possibly know what life is like up there? unless, he forgot..

THE CHESHIRE CAT/RAY CARLING: this one is interesting, mysterious even. he was the first one to show up in wonderland. hell, you could even say he made wonderland himself.. if you believe that. unlike the mad hatter, he goes by more than just ‘cheshire’. he allows other people to call him raymond, since he likes longer names. ( shorter ones can be such a bore.. ) he’s as polite as the hatter, but has a nasty bite when you get on his nerves. like gene, ray has two forms. it was difficult for him to choose between the two of them. cat or human? human or cat? one day he decided that he personally prefers things when they’re mixed together, almost in between. he’s been waiting for the day where something different happens in wonderland. it’s been the same, day in and day out. but maybe, due to a certain man in leather, he can help change wonderland entirely. for good.

THE MARCH HARE/ANNIE CARTWRIGHT: other than the cheshire cat, one of the mad hatter’s friends is a hare by name of annie. she’s not exactly as mad as he is, but more like something to keep him from crossing the line between crazy and tame and going overboard towards crazy. she’s soft-spoken and welcoming, especially when sam ends up visiting them during their unbirthday parties. annie prefers her ‘human’ form to her hare form because someday she wishes to see what it’s like in sam’s world. maybe when sam figures it out, he can take her and the rest of them with him. then again, she’s not sure if anyone is ready for ‘crazy’ to bleed in with ‘normal’.

THE CATERPILLAR/NELSON: he’s one of the first wonderland inhabitants sam meets on his way to follow gene. he’s able to help sam grow back to his normal size, and even gives him advice on where to go, who to see, what to do, that sort of stuff. he does play a few pranks on him but nelson means well, he swears! before sam leaves to venture off to who-knows-where, nelson warns him in a much different accent and sam almost feels like he’s talking to someone else. he warns him of a grinning manic, one who’s deemed as dangerous and untrustworthy. maybe the cheshire cat, perhaps?

THE QUEEN OF HEARTS/PHYLLIS DOBBS: the ruler of wonderland might sound nice, but sometimes even she has her breaking points. agressive and sweet, sometimes a mix between the two. sam is pointed in her direction when he gets advice from raymond, but due to the cat’s tricks, sam almost loses his head.. until a trial is called for. she’s human, just as the mad hatter is. she’s also probably never seen the real world, like the rest of them. but sam feels like he’s met someone with her attitude before back home..

[uramichioniisanincorrectquotes]

I’m not much of a writer at all, but I hope this is kinda okay! :)

It was hard to pinpoint an exact time in Uramichi's life when he felt genuinely happy. Maybe back when he was younger, when he still had hopes and dreams and saw the world with an innocence only a child could possess. Of course, that was before gymnastics, training, and hard mats.

It also could have been the moment he had first laid eyes on his little sister, her chubby little hand reaching out to hold his finger in a tight grip. In fact, most of his happiest memories were centered around his sister, even though she annoyed the hell out of him most of the time. Which is why he couldn't help but feel betrayed and bitter when she moved out, taking all that light and happiness and leaving him with nothing but a black hole of nothingness.

But bygones were bygones, and now he had a niece who repaired that tear in their relationship. A niece he would do anything to protect from the woes of life that had torn him down. He wouldn't pressure her into doing what she didn't want to do, instead leaving every available path open for her to take. She was going to shine bright like her mother, facing the world head-on with a smile that never faltered. He would die before she could turn out like him. Depressed and miserable, stuck without an anchor to keep him grounded.

He would be that anchor for her.

As Uramichi held her, he once again marveled at how small she was, how easily she could break. It had taken him weeks to muster up the courage to even hold her while sitting down. He felt rather warm at the feel of the weight nestled against his chest. It was rare for him to feel affection for things nowadays, but he's always had a soft spot for kids. Especially the one currently in his arms.

Said child was busy suckling on her thumb, now looked up him curiously and blinked at him with hazel eyes, a trait she received from her father. But everything else about her was pure Omota genes. Uramichi smoothed down a patch of unruly curls, smiling a little at how much trouble it would her mother to try to tame it. A vague memory of him helping fix his sister's hair flashed across his mind, but was gone as quickly as it came.

He rocked the baby back and forth a little, leaning down to whisper to her, while scanning the room to make sure they were alone. "You're lucky you're so adorable and can get away with anything. When you're a little older I'm going to teach you how to annoy your mommy. We'll have ice cream for dinner, and I'll buy you whatever you want even when your mommy says no. Because she's just a mean old lady and uncle Uramichi is the best." he cooed.

He pinched her cheek gently, face darkening. "Because of you all my money is going down the drain, which I bet is your plan, huh kiddo? To make your poor uncle go bankrupt. Well, it's working.' The baby just gargled in response, bopping his nose with her fist in retaliation to his words. Uramichi blinked in surprise, but chuckled to himself. It felt good to laugh again. He held her closer, feeling the small heartbeat against his. "Kidding, kidding. I'm really grateful for this opportunity."

Sighing, Uramichi closed his eyes in content, and rested his chin gently on top of her head. He was still terrified of tainting such an innocent soul, tearing down her bright future with his darkness, and maybe someday he would have to say goodbye for good to save her from himself. It was in the unforeseen future, he was sure of it, but he pushed those thoughts away for the time being.

Right now, this moment, was all that mattered. "I won't let anything hurt you, okay? Even me. Remember, your uncle Uramichi loves you so very much."

"Now, let's go find your mommy and bother her.'