#they look like me when my mother used to force me into dresses for photos...

[yardsards]

... has anyone made the obvious blue hair and pronouns joke yet?

[tlou-reid]

Invisible String ❆ Spencer Reid

☃︎ SUMMARY: spencer’s new gf shows him a photo her mother sent. he happens to recognize it.

☃︎ WARNINGS: very short lol, mentions of diana and her dementia, all around cuteness

.｡❅⋆⍋∞｡∞⍋⋆❅｡.

“And isn’t it just so pretty think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?”

“Spencer!” You were practically sprinting through the BAU, with your arm extended and a phone in your hand. “Spencer!” You yelled with more urgency as you came to a clumsy stop behind his chair. He spun around to face you with furrowed eyebrows and a perplexed expression.

“Are you okay?” He asked, resting his hands on your hips for a moment, just briefly. He made sure you were steady before he let go, but he didn’t want to draw any more attention to the public display of affection currently going on behind his desk. It was hard enough to keep the higher ups off of your backs for just dating, let alone showing off your relationship.

You nodded excitedly, forcing your phone into his hands. “What is this?” He asked, looking at a thread of text messages from your mother.

“Look at the picture!” You cheered, leaning over to point at the image your mother had sent you. Spencer scrolled up a little bit, opening the photo. It was one he’d seen before, he knew that much. He couldn’t forget it if he wanted to, eidetic memory and all.

It was a photograph of a high school girl’s soccer team from around the 1950s. He recognized exactly one of them, his mother. She was dressed in a classic soccer uniform, with hair much longer than he was used to seeing her with. Spencer had seen the photo in a yearbook she had when she had first begun showing signs of dementia.

“That’s my mom’s high school soccer team,” Spencer concluded, not understanding why you were showing him this, or why your mother sent it to you.

Contrary to his confusion, you were full of glee. He looked up at you and was basically blinded by the radiant, beaming smile on your face. He was even more entranced by you when you spoke, “Noooooo,” you extended your words for emphasis, “that’s MY mom’s high school soccer team!”

You and Spencer hadn’t been together long, merely a few months. Due to the nature of your jobs and the way you were constantly on the go, he hadn’t had the chance to meet much of your family, not even your parents. The topic of them had come up, but he didn’t know much. You spoke more about how you grew up, telling anecdotal stories when appropriate.

“Really?” Spencer asked, bringing the phone closer to his face and scanning it for a woman who resembled you in any way. He could feel you excitedly nod, again, as he did so. “She said she knew your last name but couldn’t remember where from! She was cleaning out her storage closet and found her yearbook!” You were laughing as you spoke, mind blown by the crazy coincide.

“There’s like a one in a million chance this could’ve happened!” You explained, leaning down to point at your mother in the photo. He followed your finger, smiling when he saw her. You did have a bit of resemblance to her. He was so in awe of the situation that he didn’t do the numbers to figure out the real chance.

“How did we not know this?” Spencer asked, handing your phone back to you. “My grandfather was a higher up in the military, so my mom moved around a lot. She said she stayed at this school from 8th to 11th grade and it was the longest she was at one school.” You explained, still shocked by the photo.

“It’s like destiny!” You cheered. However, when you saw Spencer’s face twist up, your excited demeanor fell. “There’s no such thing,” Spencer declares, ever the man of science.

“Look up the Red Thread of Fate, boy wonder,” Penelope butts in from behind you. She’s watched the entire exchange. You smiled at having her be your back up, and because you could finally teach Spencer about something.

“That’s just folklore,” Spencer dismisses, brushing off Penelope’s suggestion. “Just admit it, Spencer!” You demanded, “there’s always been an invisible string tying us together!” You pulled him to a tight hug that only lasted for a second.

“Okay,” he agreed after contemplating for a while, “only because it’s very sweet that you think so.” With that, he turned back to his computer, trying to hide his blushing face.

[menagerofmischief]

Dia's Diner Menu

olives and cheese friends to lovers cold appetizer rough sex ceaser salad "Lie to me again and you're not gonna like what happens next" sarma "Gonna put a baby in you" orange juice overstimulation strawberry lemonade breeding kink (chicken skewer) "Be a good girl and come for me"

Oscar Piastri x best friend!roommate!reader

TW; fingering, unprotected sex, tinder and bad tinder dates, kind of asshole!oscar at the start

WC: 2k

A/N: can't decide if I love or hate this. also tysm for 100 followers, I love you guys.

❀

I hummed, doing my best to pretend I was listening for possibly the hundredth time this night. I watched as Jake, proving by every second to be my very failed Tinder date, rambled on and on about himself. The stories were never ending, and therefore neither was his talking. 

I leaned my head on my hand, praying he was going to run out of oxygen and choke so I wouldn’t have to listen to him talk anymore.

This whole thing was a bad idea.

I first joined Tinder because I was bored and wanted an easy out from my crush on my best friend, Oscar. This was my third date with a guy I met on the app and each guy, along with each date, was proving to be worse than the previous.

Example A: Steve

First of all, who goes on a date with a guy named Steve. But putting names aside Steve wasn’t all that bad until he was asked me to go back to his place. Which was his mother’s basement. 

Example B: Tod

Was holding a fish in his profile photo. Ordered me a salad. Proceed to talk about his buddy Kevin for the whole night and then ditched me to hang out with him. He may have been more into Kevin than me, to be honest.

And finally, sitting opposite of me, talking about his big finance job, we had example C: Jake.

Perhaps it was about time I gave up trying to find anything on that stupid app and accepted defeat. “Listen,” I pushed my chair away from the table and got up, grabbing my bag. “This has been really interesting but I need to get going.” I took enough money to cover the things I had and put it down on the table before walking away.

✿ ✿ ✿

“Had fun?” Oscar asked from the couch once I entered the apartment.

I put down my purse and the bag from the convenience store and started taking off my heels. “Sure,” I said, straightening up once I was done. “I just love hearing about finance.”

I looked over at him. Oscar was sitting on the couch in a pair of gray sweatpants and a white shirt. He was watching TV, some random movie playing on one of the channels.

Oscar and I shared an apartment - but he really only occupied it on the off season when he wasn’t traveling from one country to another every week. It worked out well for us, I had someone to split the rent to and Oscar didn’t have to bother with finding someone to take care of his place while he was traveling - so it was win-win.

I walked over and sat down next to him on the couch. I pulled a pack of Oreos from the bag and opened them, putting one in my mouth before offering the pack to him. “Want one?”

Oscar took one, turning it around in his hands quietly before looking at me. I could tell by the expression on his face that he was annoyed and his eyes had a dark look in them.

“Wow, okay.” I said, trying to get up from the couch. Sitting in my room and binging Criminal Minds it was then. “If I was annoying you, you could have just told me to go to my room.”

Before I could make my move to leave, Oscar grabbed my wrist. His hold was rougher than I expected, fingers digging into my flesh. “Why are you going on all these dates?”

“Honestly Oscar, why do you care?” I tried pulling my hand away but his hold wasn’t budging.

“Because every time you get dressed up, go on a date with some random guy and come back here with snacks. And then we sit on the couch, eat snacks and you tell me all about how terrible your date was.” He said, his eyes narrowing. “And I nod along, so sympathetic, pretending I actually care.”

I scoffed at him, using all the force I could and yanking my hand out of his grasp. “Fuck you, Oscar!” I told him, rolling my eyes. “No one made you listen to me. You could have told me I was bothering you and I would have fucked off.”

“It’s not that you were bothering me!”

“Oh yeah? Then what is it?”

“I like you, damnit!” Oscar all but yelled, jumping up onto his feet. His hands grabbed my shoulders and I looked up at him. “I like you! And I’m mad. Mad that you’re dressing up for some guys from Tinder when I’m right in front of you.”

My eyes widened, mouth agape. I must have looked like a fish. “Oscar,” my words were quieter than I expected them to come. My voice cracking. “You never said anything.”

“I didn’t think you wanted me to.” He confessed, his thumb rubbing the skin on my shoulder.

I licked my lips, looking up at him and offered a gentle smile. “I like you too,” I whispered, almost afraid to say it any louder.

Oscar doesn’t waste a second. As soon as the words are out of my mouth he is surging forward, smashing his lips against mine in a kiss much different from what I imagined our first would be like.

His hands move from my shoulders to wrap around my waist, pulling me into him. His lips are rough against mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth. I can barely breathe and my head is feeling fuzzy but still I do my best to kiss him back.

Before I know it, Oscar is picking me up, my legs wrapped around his waist and our lips still connected. Then he’s carrying me to his room and laying me down on his bed, crawling up to me to resume our kiss.

“Fuck,” Oscar mumbled, finally detaching his lips from mine and pulling back to look at me. “I wanted to do that for so long.”

“Me too,” I said, cupping the side of his face, rubbing his skin with my thumb. I wrapped my legs around his waist, trying my best to grind up into him and gain any friction by rubbing myself against the bulge in his sweatpants. “Please, Osc, need you!”

“Need me?” Oscar growled, pulling away a little and pushing up the bottom of my dress, exposing my panties to him. His fingers rubbed over the wet patch on my panties, making me buck up into his touch. “Is that right? You need me to fuck you full of my cum and make you go stupid on my cock, is that it?”

I whined when he took off my panties and roughly pushed two fingers inside of me without any warning. It was an unexpected stretch with just a little burn to it to leave me breathless.

“Tell me, Y/n,” he started, his fingers pushing into me hard and fast, not slowing down at all. “Why’d you join dating apps?”

I took a breath, trying to compose myself enough to form a reply. “Was bored,” I whined, gripping onto the sheets.

He gave me a dark look before his free hand, the one he wasn’t pleasuring me with, came down full force to slap my pussy. I all but screamed out, my body jolting forward with the shock of it and grabbed his shoulder with one hand to steady myself.

“This was a little preview,” Oscar said with a chuckle. “Lie to me again and you’re not gonna like what happens next.” His eyes fixated on me and my cheeks burned both with embarrassment and from how good I was feeling. “Now try again.”

“I didn’t think you liked me so -” I cut myself off with a moan when his fingers pressed against my G-spot, stroking it a few times before going back to thrusting in and out of me. “Fuck Oscar! I wanted to find someone so I could get over you!”

“Good job telling the truth, bad job at trying that,” he said. His thumb started playing with my clit, rubbing it in circles and I moaned loudly, feeling my orgasm approaching. 

“Osc, I’m gonna cum, please let me cum.” I begged, the feel of his fingers inside of me and the added pleasure of having my clit toyed with pushing me fast toward the edge.

“Go on,” Oscar encouraged, keeping the rhythm of his fingers. “Be a good girl and cum for me.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, I was sobbing out from pleasure, my orgasm crashing over me and my hips bucking up. 

Oscar pulled his fingers out of my pussy, making me whine at the loss of being filled with something, and keeping his eyes on mine brought them up to his mouth and sucked them clean. 

I sat up a little and reached for him. Oscar let me pull off his shirt and I took a moment to admire his naked chest, running my hands over the ridges of his abdomen. Then he helped me take off my dress and bra, kissing me gently before he started trailing kisses down to my neck and collarbones.

“Osc,” I mumbled out, my fingers pulling on the strings of his sweatpants. “Fuck me please! Need to feel you in me. Need to feel you filling me.”

Oscar wasted no time, taking off his sweatpants and boxers in one go. I only got one good glance at his dick before he was pushing it inside me, bottoming out in one thrust.

He was big, the tip of his cock kissing against my cervix and with each thrust I could see an outline of his dick bulging out on my stomach.

“Fuck,” Oscar grunted. “We could have been doing this much sooner if you had just said you wanted me to fuck you.”

“You could have said something as well,” I shot back.

“Yeah but I wasn’t the one on dating apps.”

Oscar’s hand sneaked between us, his thumb once again finding my clit and starting to circle it. I screamed out in pleasure, hiding my face into Oscar’s neck. “So good, Osc, fuck,” I babbled. “Gonna cum again.”

Oscar sped up, both his thrusts and his fingers. “I’m gonna cum too,” he grunted. “Fuck, gonna put a baby in you so everyone knows you’re mine. You like that huh? Yeah you do, I can feel you clenching around me.”

His thumb brushed over my clit one more time and I was screaming out as my orgasm crashed into me. It didn’t take long for Oscar to reach his peak either. His hips stilling as he spilled himself inside of me.

Oscar rolled himself off of me and laid down on the bed. We laid in silence for a few minutes, only the sounds of us panting for breath filling the air. Then the bed creaked when Oscar got up.

He left the room for a moment and then came back with a towel and my pajamas. He got on his knees in front of me on the bed and started cleaning up the mess between my legs. I whined when he brushed my clit, “Hurts. Too much, Osc!”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m just cleaning you up.” He said, bowing his head down and pressing a gentle kiss on my thigh. I let him do the rest without much protest. Once he was done he tossed the towel away and helped me put on my pajamas, then got into his.

Finally we got under the blankets and he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into a cuddle. 

“Are you free tomorrow night?” He asked, his fingers playing with my hair, making me shudder with delight.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Good,” he hummed. “I’m taking you out on a date.”

I only managed a smile and a nod in response before falling asleep.

[perseephoneee]

kinktober 6 (klaus mikaelson x f!reader)

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ kinktober masterlist

content warnings: blood sharing, you taste your own blood, slight cock warming

a/n: part two of kinktober halloween! i'm a practicing witch so i got wayyy too into the details.

all of these are inspired by this post by @moremaybank

Being a witch in New Orleans meant two things. One, you were guaranteed a run-in with the Mikaelson Family. Two, Klaus Mikaelson would either want to kill you or use you.

To your fate, he found you mildly amusing and infinitely useful. You had a particular percolation towards divination and had luck advising people in the past on what paths to avoid. In exchange for not killing your friends, Klaus has requested your services. Lucky you.

Tonight, you were not with Klaus. You were in your home, lighting candles for Samhain. You were wearing a black dress and witches hat in case trick-or-treaters came by. You had already set up your altar with photos of your ancestors. You were in the process of setting aside some of your dinner as an offering. You were supposed to be left alone. You were never that lucky.

You hear knocking on the door and open it to see Klaus smiling like a cat.

"Trick or treat," he said mockingly. You considered the merits of slamming the door in his face.

"This is my night off."

"This is a friendly call," Klaus said, peering into your home. "Care to invite me in?"

"Friendly entails that we're friends."

"We are friends, love. I even brought you a gift," Klaus said, pulling a box out of his pocket, ribbon wrapped around it. You narrowed your eyes, taking the gift hesitantly and opening it to see a ring. It was a Claddagh ring, except instead of being all silver, the heart was made out of black tourmaline for protection.

"What's the catch?" you asked.

"No catch. I saw it and thought of you," Klaus sighed. "It really is cold out here, and I would be appreciative if you invited me in."

Realizing you weren't going to get the original off your doorstep in any timely manner, you sighed and invited him in. He smiled, immediately inspecting your home as he entered. You went back to your alter, arranging everything as you gathered other supplies.

"In the middle of something?"

"Yes, tonight is actually an important night for my people," you mumbled, filling your arms with candles.

"Ah, Samhain, when all the people I've killed decide to haunt me."

"Do they really?" you turned to look at him, hiding amusement.

"Yes, it's rather annoying," Klaus took the candles out of your arms as you struggled to hold everything. You mumbled a thanks, heading to your living room with him falling behind you. "What spell are you casting this evening?"

"I'm giving thanks to my ancestors and asking for safe passage into the new year," you responded, putting all your materials on the ground. You also liked to give thanks to Hecate, but you didn't think he'd care much about that. Surprisingly, Klaus was silent and even helped you set up your circle. You shuffled your tarot cards, laying seven out before you as you got comfortable on the ground.

"Am I allowed to be here?" Klaus asked. You paused.

"Actually, it's sometimes helpful to have another person as a consort," you answered honestly. You thought he might bite your head off for calling him a witch's consort, but he just nodded and sat next to you as well. You snapped your fingers, lighting all the candles as you took several deep breaths. "I give thanks this Samhain and request safe passage into the new year. I light these candles for my ancestors, Hecate, and Mother Earth, who I will see in spring. Use me as your guide and as your soldier."

The flames burned brighter, a slight wind picking up in the room. Klaus looked around curiously as you flipped over your cards to see the message given to you. The spirits materialized slightly in the room, and you felt their energy trying to pull from yours, desperate for a life of their own. You weren't expecting the force and recoiled slightly as you continued chanting thanks and deciphering the cards. The flames grew hotter, and you struggled to hold your own against so many ghosts. Without warning, you felt Klaus put a hand on your shoulder. You didn't ask before latching on to his energy, pulling from it as an extra force to push back the spirits from the veil. When you closed the circle and finished your spell, the candles burned down to small flames again, leaving you in the quiet of your home. You felt yourself start to fall, Klaus catching you and holding you up as you regained your footing in the living world.

"Is that what usually occurs?" he asked.

"Sometimes, it was just stronger this time around," you coughed, trying to sit up. Klaus helped you, but he didn't remove his hands from you. "Having you around was what helped me push them back."

"Well, we do make a good team," Klaus smiled. You were quiet as you searched his eyes.

"Klaus, why did you come here tonight?"

He paused. "Would it be wrong to say because I missed you?"

You shook your head no, and he visibly relaxed.

"Y/N," Klaus said. "I'm going to kiss you."

You nodded, and he leaned in, kissing you reverently. The big bad of New Orleans was gentler than you imagined, his hands soft against your face as he pulled you closer to him. You sighed into the kiss, letting him deepen it as he laid you carefully on the ground. You pulled him on top of you, fingers scratching his scalp as one of his hands pushed up your dress. He pulled your legs around him, allowing you to feel him against your core.

The kiss grew in intensity, Klaus nipping your lip and coaxing a moan.

"Klaus," you breathed. "I want you, please."

Klaus chuckled at your begging, sitting up to remove his shirt. You removed the rest of your clothes, heat spreading through your body as Klaus admired your form. He sat back against your couch, pulling you into his lap and kissing you again. You let yourself sink down on him, moaning and burying your face in his neck. His hands grabbed your ass, helping you move as you worked up a rhythm. You felt so full with him in you, and the growls you were coaxing from him were enough to bring you to the edge. Klaus brought his hand between you, rubbing over your bud and helping you come with a cry. He held you up as he chased his own release, and when he came, he sank his teeth into your neck.

You had never had a vampire drink from you before, but you expected it to hurt. Klaus drinking from you, though, felt intimate. Like you were now a part of him, he could never shed. Even after he slowed your movements, it took him a second to detach from your neck. His lips were coated red as he rested his head back. Curiosity got the better of you, and you wiped his mouth with your thumb and licked it clean. The taste of your own blood wasn't as appetizing as it was to vampires, but you saw the way Klaus zeroed in on your lips, and it made it worth it. He bit the inside of his wrist, holding it up to you to drink from. You accepted, not breaking eye contact as you felt your skin stitch itself back together.

You both sat in silence.

"You know a Claddagh ring is typically reserved for lovers?" you asked.

"I'm well aware, love."

"Why do I feel this was your plan all along, to seduce me?" you traced his chest, narrowing your eyes at him. He just smirked.

"I've wanted you since I saw you; I just finally saw an opening."

You kissed him again, feeling him everywhere inside of you, as you spent the rest of the evening together as one.

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Wearing C.C.’s Clothes

That’s it. Well, not really. My C.C. is from the 20’s to late 50’s. (Born in 1919 and died in 58 which means he died at 39 years old.) Now, here’s the thing, C.C. just gives off fashionable man vibes to me. Same with Marilyn. Or at least, the man’s wife knew how to dress them both well. Now, I’m pretty sure archeologists are rich, seeing as Lara Croft lived in a manor owned by her dad(who also an archeologist). Not only that but didn’t Billy have a trust fund before Ebenezer stole it all? Point is, we’re gonna pretend C.C. and Marilyn were at least wealthy for this post. Now back to the part where I was talking about the two being fashionable. I like to think they had a huge closet full of suits and whatever else people wore as adults in the 40’s to 50’s. They were dripped out. Sorry. Also, what exactly happened to all of C.C. and Marilyn’s stuff? Did Ebenezer sell it all? If not, and he just put it in his basement or something, Billy stole it all. All of it. He snuck in, humming the mission impossible theme, and either put it in the Rock or put it in a pocket dimension. Now, in the Rock, I like to think he has some magical closet. Like the Barbie closet. The closet is chock full of things his parents used to wear. Every now and then he puts on C.C.’s clothes and stares at himself in the mirror smiling like his dad used to when he particularly misses his dad. Then, Mary found out about this. He took her to the closet and she soon found herself doing the same thing Billy did, except with their mother. Though, sometimes she simply wore the dresses when she thought they were cute. They would even sometimes recreate photos of their parents. None of the romantic ones though. Billy vomitted all over Freddy’s shoes when he jokingly suggested that. I can even see Mary magicking up necklaces and earrings her mother once wore. So imagine, one day, Marvel gets invited (forced) to go to movie night with the leaguers, but Billy doesn’t have clothes for Marvel, except… So Billy pulls up in mid 40’s casual wear, which nowadays looks pretty formal.

“Dude what are you wearing?” Flash asked, one brow raised so far up it reached his hairline.

“Uh… these are the only casual clothes I have.” Marvel replied looking slightly embarrassed.

Wonder Woman stared at him for a couple moments before speaking up, “Are you wearing vintage?”

“I guess.” He said with a little shrug. “These haven’t seen the light of day since like… almost the sixties.”

”Wait, really?” Green Lantern asked, looking Billy up and down. Which admittedly made Billy a little self-conscious.

“Cap, do you not have modern clothes?” Superman asked.

“No…?” Billy said, though it sounded more like a question. He had modern clothes, just none that fit Marvel.

All of them looked to immediately looked to Batman, who shrugged, “I’ll finance it.”

They then proceeded to drag Marvel to the mall and buy a bunch of clothes, said clothes also going in his magical closet.

[diorsluv]

feather , the drama queen

“ i say she’s too dramatic ”

series m. list

( socialmedia!au )

yourusername

liked by lhughes_06, missseraphina and 310,937 others

yourusername photo dump time 🗣️🗣️

guess who ran into connor bedard at the family function 😱 he was looking at me weird n shit cuz me and mark were cosplaying as rapunzel and flynn rider

also i love taking screenshots of my bf and his goofy brothers when they look stupid!

tagged: lhughes_06, markestapa, _quinnhughes, trevorzegras, jamie.drysdale, masonmctavish23, _connorbedard

view all comments

jamie.drysdale where did you find that pic of us.

→ yourusername use ur common sense

→ trevorzegras this feels like a violation

→ yourusername it is! ☺️

_connorbedard i was looking at you weird because you are weird.

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→ _connorbedard we’re not related.

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→ yourusername SHUT UP JAMIE

→ _connorbedard WE’RE. NOT. COUSINS?????

→ trevorzegras breaking news!!! bedsy and jamie are related 😱😱

→ _connorbedard my finger is hovering over the block button

username44 funny that she posts this RIGHT NOW..

→ username10 they all have her blocked they don’t know anything

trevorzegras WHEN THERES SOMETHING STRANGE

→ yourusername IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD

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→ adamfantilli 👻👻👻

→ yourusername quinn YOU’RE the strange looking thing in the neighborhood 🤬 _quinnhughes

→ jackhughes flashbacks to when that little kid got scared when he opened the door

→ _quinnhughes oh my god I WAS WEARING A COSTUME

username79 did anyone else notice who liked the post…

→ username3 good lord she’s back

luca.fantilli it seems war is NOT over 😔

→ yourusername ????

→ dylanduke25 luca i thought you had her blocked smh

→ luca.fantilli how’d you know who i was talking about unless you didn’t have her blocked either???

→ yourusername …

_quinnhughes everyone’s gonna start calling me depressed now 😐

→ yourusername sweetie they’ve been calling you depressed keep up

→ _quinnhughes 😨

→ jackhughes 😱

→ lhughes_06 🤯

dylanduke25 let’s give me the credit for that costume idea!

→ yourusername you told me to dress up as mother gothel.

→ dylanduke25 out of love 🤗

→ markestapa YOU TOLD ME TO DRESS LIKE THE FUCKING HORSE.

→ lhughes_06 HEY MAXIMUS IS A GREAT CHARACTER

edwards.73 why is mark at the family function 🤨

→ yourusername his mama wanted to come 😈

→ markestapa that’s a lie she forced me to come because i was the only one willing to dress up as flynn rider for her

→ edwards.73 …why are you dressing up in costumes at the family function?????

→ yourusername THE KIDS ALWAYS DO A LITTLE COSTUME PLAY CONTEST THING

→ jamie.drysdale she made me dress up as the lorax when we were in middle school

→ yourusername stop complaining i was literally mr o’hare

→ jamie.drysdale AND THEN YOU MADE ME LORD FARQUAD THE YEAR AFTER THAT

→ yourusername 🙄🙄

→ trevorzegras pics or it didn’t happen.

lhughes_06 you really snuck that cute ass pic of you thinking we wouldn’t notice

→ yourusername ew i hate you

→ lhughes_06 you love me

→ yourusername 🙄

→ lhughes_06 say it ☹️

→ yourusername 🥱

→ jackhughes PLEASE JUST SAY IT ALREADY I CANT STAND HIS WHINING

→ yourusername no can do jacky boy 😓

→ lhughes_06 you little shit

→ yourusername luv u too 😒😒

username10 connor looks so done

username98 quinn has never had a good pic of himself posted by any of his friends 💀

mackie.samo I COULDVE BEEN FLYNN RIDER WHY DIDNT U ASK ME

→ yourusername i asked mark first 😓

→ markestapa HAH take that

colecaufield i took that second photo 😒

→ yourusername our lovely backup photographer 🫶🫶

→ lhughes_06 your quality is kinda ass

→ colecaufield BRO i took it on your phone???

missseraphina

liked by yourusername and 202 others

missseraphina i know you miss me, bc why else would you have texted me last night? 🥰

view all comments

username24 oh babe.. that’s not…..

username8 girly this is a bit obsessive don’t you think? 😭

username61 he’s taken. TAKEN.

username82 yesss girl get your man back!!

→ username40 …as in the one that’s in a relationship rn??

username77 sweetie just find someone else already

username95 I THOUGHT THEY ALL BLOCKED HER but lil drizz just liked the post what

→ yourusername it gave me a good laugh what can i say

username43 they’re making an absolute mockery out of her

username20 LMFAOOO

username18 don’t tell me she’s still going on with ts 😭😭

username55 but let’s think about it.. she wouldn’t have posted this unless he actually texted her

username39 it’s bc he still wants u 😝😝

→ username14 i KNOW you’re not talking about luke hughes 💀

yourusername

liked by adamfantilli, jamie.drysdale, dylanduke25, and 347,252 others

yourusername oh girl you’re obsessed 🥱

view all comments

username90 HELL YEAH we’re back on the drama train

jamie.drysdale i thought i told you to block her 😑

→ yourusername I DID but then all my friends were telling me abt the shit she was posting and i couldn’t resist 😞😞

mackie.samo you’re so petty

→ yourusername aw cmon mack you know you love my pettiness 🤗🤗

→ mackie.samo uh huh i definitely do

→ markestapa bro ur literally pettier than she is

→ mackie.samo give me ONE good example

→ markestapa you blocked me for a week because i said your hair looks like a rat lives in it 😐

→ mackie.samo thanks for the reminder im blocking you again

username10 babe ur feeding into the drama 😭

→ yourusername i know 😈

username34 WHEN SHE PLAYS MULTIPLE INSTRUMENTSSSSS

username28 our multi-talented queen!!

adamfantilli will we ever be done with the couple-y shit 😒

→ yourusername when she’s done obsessing over my man 🫶

→ lhughes_06 what’s that heart for yourusername

→ edwards.73 you’re so possesive luke get over yourself 🙄🙄

→ adamfantilli FR

→ markestapa FR

→ luca.fantilli FR

→ jackhughes FR

→ rutgermcgroarty FR

→ _alexturcotte FR

→ _quinnhughes FR

→ trevorzegras FR

→ dylanduke25 FR

→ jamie.drysdale FR

→ colecaufield FR

→ mackie.samo FR

→ yourusername not again 😭

username88 is she ever gonna go away

luca.fantilli but when you think about it.. luke probably DID text her to provoke that post

→ yourusername LMFAO he would neverrrrr right? lhughes_06

→ lhughes_06 um

→ lhughes_06 i don’t wanna lie to you

→ yourusername oh

→ luca.fantilli oh shit 🤯

→ jamie.drysdale what.

→ markestapa DUDE I THOUGHT YOU BLOCKED HER lhughes_06

→ edwards.73 there’s no fucking way

→ _quinnhughes …

username20 goddamn what happened under luca’s comment 😭😭

username24 holy shit there’s no way luke actually texted her again

username80 oh my god???

notes ) cliffhanger 🙊🙊 yes we’re back but not really (?) this one’s been sitting in the drafts for a while so.. i hope it’s fairly adequate LMAOO

tags: @aliaology @hockeyboysarehot @absolutelyhugh3s @jackquinnswife @freds-slut @love4ldr @blueeyedbesson @43hughes @v1olentdelights @dancerbailey3 @random-human02 @ho3forfakeguys @loveforaugust @cstads-blog @h0e4fictionalme-n @bunting58

[cowboyjen68]

Hi!!

I just wanted to ask some advice from one butch to another.

I recently got my dream job of being a warden on a nature reserve (and i love it!), while interacting with people there I get called a young man very often (i am 18 lol) and it gives me euphoria to know im masculine enough to even pass as a man. I've also had some volunteers ask if I was a man or not (despite my feminine name).

But recently I got called a "lady" outside while out with my mother. It drove me INSANE I cried alot.

Don't get me wrong I do identify as a woman but I hate being seen as a lady.

I've even thought about using he/him pronouns recently and changing my name but i'm too scared to as most people won't understand bc im still a lesbian.

Is this strange?

ps love u and ur blog lots xx

This is an easy answer because I was 18 once and looked enough like a teenage boy that I got "hey sport" and "hey young man" all the time, especially when in my work clothes. I worked for The Mayor's Youth Corp in Iowa City in the summers of my 15th and 16th year. Mom and Dad let me get a work permit AND bought me a used Datsun Pickup so I could drive myself the 20 miles there and back each day.

I was a volunteer with the Corp of Engineers youth from 14 to 16 and Dad knew I was super excited about this job. Mom was not thrilled that I wanted to cut my hair but my "grand mullet" was really hot under the hard hat in the summer heat of Iowa. (in the 1980's boys and girls had the short in front long and permed in back look) We compromised and I cut the sides really short. (photo of my me at 16 in my uniform for reference)

Using "he" would never have occurred to me because "EWWW Boys". This is not to say, however, that I hated being mistaken for a boy, on the contrary, it felt good. When someone thought I was a young man it meant they treated me as such. They didn't talk down to me, I knew they assumed I was capable and willing to get dirty. I knew unconsiously that along with the mistaken identity came many perks. This was nothing I analyzed but little girls see very early on the difference in treatment they recieve from their brothers, male cousins and neighborhood boys. This difference leads us to become negotiators to control our circumstances and not entittled to treatment based on our skills and actual personalies.

When an adult recognized me as a boy, even for a second at first glance, I knew I didn't have to prove myself. They, for an instant, assigned to me words like "strong, capable, demanding etc". No negotations required.

When someone realized I was a girl they literally had a change in their face. They smiled at me, softened their voice. When I was called "young lady" or "Miss" it always seemed to be backed my the worst assumptions (in my mind anyway). Lady is steeped in all kinds of traits I didnt want assigned to me. "quiet, weak, likes to dress pretty"OR "motherly, submissive, meek" Nothing good in my teen brain, that is for sure. Lady felt so OLD, so married to a man and reliant on him for survival, so polyster pants and ugly flats and scratchy blouses with a flower imprint. NONE of these things are inherent to being a woman or even socially forced on us but that is not how things work sometimes. Words that describe people get stereotypes and myths and traits attached to them all the time. Woman and girl are no different.

I can tell you, the best feeling in the world when I was in that job was when my supervisor, who damn well knew I was a young woman, trusted me with all the same tasks as the boys. Who valued my opinions and abilities equally to the young men. He took time to teach me what I didn't know, just like with them and didn't assume I couldn't or didn't want to learn things on the job. He didn't shame ANYONE for not being strong enough or for getting tired or needing a break.

Don't let the assumptions of others force you into another box of conformity. You don't need a boys name or to use any pronouns you don't feel connected to just to please others. In fact, none of that effort will change perceptions of those around you. I can promise that one day being called Lady will just be another word that you can hear and know it does not change your personality or your interests or control the hope you have for your future. What does waste a lot of time and energy is trying to adjust things in your life to fit incorrect or snap assumptions about you as a person. You can never control the thoughts of those around you but what you can do is stop worrying about it and enjoy YOU.

You have a job you love and are sure to thrive in. You are solid in your sexuality and love of women, you are in a unique position to possibly change the perceptions of others when they think of "young women". Your interactions with the public are sure to effect the assumpions of at least some people when they think of young women and their roles in our society.

Congratulations on your new career and I bet you rock that uniform.

[konigsblog]

i’m so warmed by all the pregnancy stuff with the farmers 🫣🤭 if you’re up to it! literally anything surrounding that, it’s so soft to read tbf. your writing is always so good, hits every time but the way you write pregnancy just hits different 🩷🩷

— thank you!! i'm glad you enjoy them, it makes me feel more confident in my writing and i appreciate you for saying such sweet things ! 🎀 i wasn't sure if you wanted smut, but this was rotting my mind !

⭒༉‧₊˚. kid headcannons with farmer!MW2 🌾🧺🐄

farmer!price has mainly sons. little boys always helping out on the farm, gasping when the pigs begin squealing and the birds make their call. takes such good care of them, and you as well. the boys love their mother; running up to you while covered in mud, overalls coated in brown sludge, giving in and hugging them tightly.

simon is a with the farmer concept is hard. i can't imagine it, i can imagine him working down in the bar down in the village, you joining along, or being his little housewife. wearing long dresses, and coming to him with your toddler boy and girl, giving them some sweets so they'll be alright and talking with your confident, funny husband.

(trying with the farmer!simon concept) who smokes a lot and always stinks of tobacco after a hard day. his little boy and older daughter (2 year difference between them) giggling with eachother, watching as she protects him. he's so proud of her and always makes time to help with her homework after breaking his back taking care of the carrots and cabbages.

farmer!soap who has 2 daughters. they're his princesses, and he'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe. walking with them, hand in hand, sent down to the village for fruits and vegetables by their mother. helping you make some blueberry pie for your husband after a long day. his daughters falling asleep at the dinner table with blueberry pie all over their faces.

farmer!gaz who has daughters. he treats them like angels, and appreciates when they help with the animals. i imagine his daughters to enjoy helping on the farm when they're a teenager; taking care of chickens and bringing back eggs, or getting hay on their jeans and t-shirt. spends a lot of time with them and they all appreciate his work.

farmer!könig has only daughters, i can't imagine him with daughters, at all. has a lot of daughters, perhaps 5, or maybe a pair of twins. they're so cute when they're toddlers; falling asleep on their daddy's lap, and getting their faces messy with cheesecake after dinner.

he's an amazing dad, and loves reading to them before bedtime. has an album of photos of them from their younger ages, and sometimes fell asleep on the rocking chair when they were newborns and woke up crying.

farmer!alejandro has daughters too, no son's for him. he definitely treats them like princesses and loves how sweet they are. makes funny jokes, and is very overprotective of them. oh, his daughter wants to go down to the village? no matter if she's a teenager, she's not going alone. if she waits for him, he'll buy her a ice-cream and allows her to help with the cows despite his constant scolding for asking! don't worry, he'll handle it.

farmer!rodolfo who has 1 daughter (i'm sorry, i can barely imagine half of these characters with son's!!) he lets her help on the farm and always appreciates her help. doesn't want to force her, but allows her to clean the pigs and take the eggs back to the house for her mother to use. when she was a baby, he'd kiss her every night and sit on a rocking chair beside the fireplace, lulling her to sleep and teaching spanish to her in her older years.

farmer!graves who has 3 sons, and his youngest, a daughter. they all look like him when he was younger; 3 replicas. his daughter has gorgeous, soft blonde hair and his blue, silverish eyes. not only does he treat her like a princess, he refuses to allow her to work on the farm.

— encourages his son's to help him on the farm, while she plays with barbie dolls on the porch and eats any freshly baked cookies her mother made. her brother's are around 9, and a pair of twins, 8 when she's 3. a sweetheart who has a pure, giving heart and always makes her father little cards or paper people using his old newspapers.

[lcvesjj]

The final farewell & stuffed animals - Task Force 141 x MacTavish!Reader

Based on this idea :)

Task Force 141 x MacTavish!Reader (Y/n is Soap’s 8 year old sister)

summary : After Soap’s death the 141 met his baby sister Y/n. If only they could've met her in a different place and at a different time…

warnings : very angsty, Soap dies, no happy endings, crying, funerals, not beta read 

a/n : hi so this is my first time writing anything for Call of Duty so please go easy on me, since I know this isn't the best but I just thought that this prompt would fit :)

masterlist

After Soap died, the 141 found out that he had a family. Since Soap never really mentioned anyone they were surprised to find out that he had an eight year old sister. They never met her- they only saw a picture of her after they looked through Soaps things after his death. He kept a small photo of her smiling while sitting on a small cliff in the middle of his notebook. The photo was probably taken somewhere in Scotland when he took some time off from the military.

It was Price’s idea to have a small funeral for Soap instead of just spreading his ashes like they originally wanted too. They thought it would be best if they allowed his sister and mother to say a final farewell and see him one last time. Contacting Soap's mother was the hardest thing that they ever had to do.

Fighting Makarov and seeing the horrors they saw on the daily was awful- but seeing how Johnny’s mother collapsed onto the floor sobbing after finding out she lost her oldest child. It was soon arranged to have Soap’s funeral at a small church in the town he grew up in.

They never saw Soap’s sister Y/n until the funeral. She was wearing a black dress and hugging a small teddy bear who was wearing an army uniform. Johnny’s mom soon explained that Y/n had gotten the teddy bear from her brother right before he joined the military so she would always remember him.

Upon seeing Soaps open casket Y/n ran up to the steps and leaned over it. Tears were pouring down her cheeks upon seeing her brother laying there so still and motionless. He had a bandage around his head to cover up the wound from where Makarov had shot him. “Johnny- you have to wake up! You have to wake up!” His sister cried hoping this was all some sick prank and that her brother would wake up and yell that it was all a prank and that he was okay. 

But he never did.

Soap was gone. 

Upon seeing Y/n sob over Soap’s casket her mother rushed up trying to pull away the little girl. Before she managed to pull the Y/n away, she stood up on her tippy toes and reached over to place her beloved teddy bear in the casket with Johnny.

When Y/n’s mother tried to take the bear back and give it to her, Y/n just cried out. “No! Please- he needs it. He’ll be scared all alone, he hates the dark. He hates the dark, I don’t want him to be alone.” She just cried uncontrollably.

Ghost could feel the tear gathering in his eyes, he was usually an emotionless man but upon seeing his best friend's little sister cry like that he could feel his heart snap into tiny pieces. Price even wiped away a few tears upon watching Soap’s mother pull Y/n away from the casket and into her arms gently reassuring the little girl that Soap was now safe and that he was okay.

After the short service Johnny’s mom insisted on the 141 coming over to at least rest for a bit before they went back to where they were staying. Y/n was sitting in front of the dark fireplace silently, she was hugging her knees to her chest while tears poured down her cheeks. Gaz looked over at Soap’s mother silently asking if it was okay if he tried to talk to Y/n, she just nodded and whispered “Go ahead.” with a sad smile.

Gaz sighed and after looking over at Ghost and Price he took a deep breath and approached Y/n sitting down on the floor next to her. “You’re Gaz right?” She sniffled while looking over at him with red teary eyes. “Yes, that’s me. I’m guessing your brother told you a little about us huh?” He questioned her gently. 

“He’d talk about you a lot. All of you. He even promised me that when I got a little older he’d take me to the 141 base and show me around. He promised…” Y/n whispered to which Gaz nodded sadly while looking around the small but cosy living room. “You’re really brave y’know that right?” He asked while gently reaching for a box of tissues and handing them to her. “I was scared. But I tried to be brave for Johnny.” Y/n says while grabbing a tissue and wiping away some tears. “Well you did an amazing job sweetheart. I know that he’s very very proud of you” Gaz said with a gentle smile.

“I gave him my teddy bear. Before he was deployed for the first time, Johnny took me out to the city and we went to the build-a-bear store and he allowed me to pick a teddy and some clothes for it. I still remember it since I’ve carried that bear with me ever since. I gave it to him since I know that now he needs it more than me. He hates being alone in the dark and I don’t want him to be scared.” She sniffled to which Gaz nodded sadly.

Ghost and Price were listening in from the kitchen and their hearts broke hearing what Soap’s baby sister was saying. She gave him his favourite toy since he felt like now he would need it more than her.

“Gaz? Do you think that he’s proud of me?” Y/n asked him curiously while wiping away some tears. Gaz nodded in response. “I know that he’s very very proud of you Y/n. You were very very brave.” He reassured her while hugging her tightly. 

THE END.

[charlie-rain-0]

normally i don't talk too much about my origins on my account but i have a correction to make.

i am algerian (more precisely french-algerian even if here i will only speak about algeria)

i also specify that i am amazigh, i am not arab, i am part of the indigenous people of the region (well the situation is more complicated but frankly, i am a little lazy to explain to western people the complexity of ethnic groups in north africa but even if i am not theoretically one, it does not bother me to be considered as one (and in a certain way, i am by a part of my culture even if it is mainly amazigh).

i often see posts like this from westerners (who have no idea what north africa is).

i will explain why this is complete bullshit and why it is racist and islamophobic.

first of all, anyone who has ever been to north africa knows that the vast majority of veiled women wear the classic hijab. of our generation (i say our generation when talking about generation z) there are quite a few women who do not wear one.

after trying to talk about traditional outfit here there are two huge mistakes. already this outfit wanting to be a traditional outfit is not at all. I explain.

given the patterns it surely wants to be a traditional amazigh outfit (therefore my people) except that our outfits do not even really resemble that (i vaguely have the impression of being confronted with a poor quality outfit or for a disguise of what our traditional outfit is).

our traditional outfits are often very modest, even if the veil does not conform to the hijab, amazigh women have covered their hair for generations. this is normal, it is literally a religious commandment.

i really don't see why westerners often have a problem with wanting or liking to dress modestly. even though i'm non-binary, i always dress very modestly. men also have rules of modesty in islam, so in most muslim countries, men and women are dressed according to codes that mean they are often covered.

(it would never occur to me to go out with a short sleeved t-shirt or with shorts or a short skirt. i am always covered no matter what country I am in)

I have many photos of my great grandmother who wears her hair covered by a turban. this is the case for almost all amazigh women of her generation and the generation after. if you come across an amazigh granny in north africa, it is very likely that she will be wearing a turban.

if we look a little at the history of algeria, we learn that during french colonization, the french government organized “unveiling” sessions where algerian women were forced to remove their veils in public. the french government did this to humiliate and subjugate women; it was an extremely violent act for them.

but that's not all. even if the idiot who made this post (sorry for my vocabulary) tried unsuccessfully to take a traditional amazigh outfit (which is hideous, i personally feel insulted. i grew up as a trans person assigned girl at birth, wearing magnificent kabyle dresses and dreaming of having beautiful amazigh outfits covered in silver jewelry. so seeing an aliexpress dress and not at all traditional revolts me, especially for a person who claims to talk about MY culture without knowing a minimum of it)

that's not all, in algeria the amazigh are an ethnic minority and 80% of the population are arabs from the maghreb (maghreb literally means arab from this area). and among the maghrebis, the traditional dress of women looks like this:

(modern version)

(real traditional version)

and yes, it is also an integral veil. and whether you like it or not, it is the traditional dress of most algerians, even if in fact, the hijab (which is much less covering) is worn more often

well i hope i explained correctly to the european that we should not speak for us. as an algerian person (trans but assigned female at birth) i would like to ask you to shut your mouth and educate yourself before talking about our bodies, the bodies of our sisters, our mothers, and our female ancestors. and above all to stop being stupid, racist and islamophobic people.

ps/ ethnic origin in the maghreb is a permanent mix. north african arabs also have an amazigh part (and this is also often the case the other way around)

ps2/being arab doesn't really mean anything scientifically. being arab can mean living in or coming from an arab country (which would make me an arab), speaking arabic, or having an arab culture. i mean, genetically most arabs are only partly arab.

ps3/ amazigh or berber (which is a pejorative term, which i hate but which is used a lot in the west) is a group of indigenous peoples of north africa. there is a great variety of people who are all very different but who share part of their culture and their language (the amazigh have languages ​​of origin that are not arabic)

ps4/ i am neither pan-africanist nor pan-arabist, i am for a unity of the two .i am for a union of peoples, and in particular non-western peoples. (especially since the concept of state as we understand it in the west is a colonial legacy for most of our peoples. north africa is in its entirety my country, i would even say that all of SWANA is my « country ». i am at home when i am in any country in this area)

ps5/ i made it clear that i was queer in this post and if anyone here has a problem with me being queer and algerian. let that person go choke on a ball of taasbante. seriously, you can keep your shitty pink washing.

ps6/ i would end with a little "tahia falestine" but in kabyle we say rather : ⴼⴰⵍⴻⵙⵟⵉⵏ ⵜⵉⵍⴻⵍⵍⵉⵜ

[dangerprone2000]

Hey guys! How’s it going?

Here I come again with the second chapter of my Fraphne fic ( that by the way it does not have a title yet. I know, Shame on me.)

I'm thinking about uploading it on some fanfiction platform, but in the meantime…

Here you guys have chapter two! I hope you enjoy it💗

Chapter 2.

Daphne was resting in the dining room of her house, after stirring the food on her plate a little, she retired without eating almost anything.

After last night's conversation, she didn't understand how she could eat again.

She decided she was going to Fred's house when she received an emergency text.

“We have to talk” it reads, and she knew exactly what it meant.

***

Daphne stared at the police cars outside of Fred's house, his father, the mayor, was probably in a meeting.

The limo disappeared behind her, as she walked deeper into the lion's den, to find a scene full of officers, who could probably see through her, the blame in her swollen eyes.

That same morning Amanda's parents identified the body. While Daphne was at school, the terrible news had spread that the Becks had gone to the morgue, and although there was not much left to identify, the body was dressed in the clothes in which Amanda was last seen with: her blue hoody and white boots.

A gold watch, an old family heirloom, had also served to recognize her body.

Her corpse came to Daphne's mind, since Amanda's death it seemed that several of her classmates used to know her as the sweet daughter of the strange Beck family. It was said that her parents were strict: They did not allow her to have a boyfriend, or her own place, and those news had spread like wildfire in the town, as had the news of her death. She was a submissive type of girl so she stayed on their house and obeyed without protest.

A golden child, who was now found dead.

Many kids came that same day to leave flowers and stuffed animals in front of her house, but no one seemed to have photos, or any other memories of her... Amanda had died without leaving evidence that she had ever lived, and Daphne barely remembered her face.

She entered the house, politely greeting the group of people gathered in the living room and went upstairs.

“Open doors Frederick” yelled Mr. Jones as she went in.

Fred's room was very clean and tidy, every little thing was in its place, small Lego constructions were displayed on shelves, with scale models of traps that he had built, or he longed to build, and lots of magazines piled on bookcases.

Fred was fidgeting with a screw, lying on his bed when she opened the door, leaving a careful distance between the door and its frame, knowing that they were alone, and Mr. Jones already made an exception on his “Girl friends are not allowed in your rooms” rule.

It seemed that he really didn’t want them downstairs, meddling around.

“Shh” he dragged a finger to his mouth, attracting the attention to his lips. “If you are quiet enough you can hear them talking.”

Daphne felt a spark of embarrassment flushing down her cheeks, how was she capable of feeling such a dumb thing in a situation like that.

Their gazes met for a second, making her heart race.

Fred really didn't understand why his mind went blank when he looked at her, why did he dream of her. How Every night under his sheets, his mind wandered to her hands touching his skin, her fingers going down his chest, her lips kissing his jaw.

But There was no point on feedings those thoughts towards her, after all, all they produced was a nervous sweat, and for him to start freaking out.

He forced a smile, trying to avoid her gaze.

The officers were surprised at how cold Amanda's parents were, and the ease with which they took the news; her mother had not even cried for her. Not shed a single tear.

“…No enemies, no boyfriends, little friends and no reasons to flee either.”

“The parents didn't dial 911 when she first disappeared, they reported her disappearance directly to the sheriff's office,” said Mr. Jones.

“They said that one day they got up and she had simply disappeared, as if the earth had swallowed her.”

“Any suspects?” One of them asked.

“Not yet, I mean, apart from the parents. We also found some P-metric tire tracks, near the swamp where the body was found, but We can’t piece together any scenarios yet…”

They remained silent, listening to other irrelevant details for what seemed like hours, until noticing movements outside the window, the police officers finally leaving the Jones mansion, with little more than a glass of cognac and a couple of hasty conclusions to draw, leaving Fred certain that by themselves, they would never be able to solve the case. In a couple years the case would be cold and forgotten, although he didn't know if that relieved him, or worried him.

The parents were questioned that same afternoon, but there was still no approximate time of death yet, to determine whether an alibi was solid or not. According to them, Amanda had disappeared on Tuesday around three in the afternoon, while she was supposed to be running errands.

“An autopsy report is being conducted tonight” Fred muttered, giving her a shrug as they watched the police cars disappear in the darkness. “I have been hearing them the whole afternoon.”

Daphne shuddered.

“What else do you know?”

“Joshua and Jessica Beck did not report Amanda's disappearance to Sheriff Bronson until Thursday.”

“And why weren't they asking about their daughter whereabouts?”

“Exactly.” “Maybe she had drug problems. I heard she was almost expelled from school a couple years ago, when she was working with a local Candyman to save up some money and run away from her family. “It was a huge deal back then.”

Daphne hesitated “how do you know about all of this.”

“Well, uh, I- I used to think she was… um, pretty, so I kind of followed her around.”

“So… you had a crush on the pretty girl, huh?”

Fred’s checks burned with indignation“That was like, many years ago.” “As the years passed, my interest became really mild.”

“Oh, but you still checked on her from time to time, didn't you?”

“I didn't!” he cut. “I just bumped into her by accident a couple weeks ago while we were in the market investigating about the ghost clown!”

She frowned, remembering sudden details of the conversation “Freddie, what if the tire tracks are ours?” “What if they are after us.”

He shook his head.

“They are going to investigate the parents first, and everyone who was close to her. Close friends, family, neighbors... would probably seek a search warrant, search for evidence in your home and surrounding areas, at the same time as they search for evidence at the scene."

Tension built in the air of the room.

“This is so sad” she lamented, getting up to clear her thoughts “we have a lot of evidence pointing out to nowhere and I just can't get that image out of my mind” Daphne said, wrapping her arms around herself. “And I don't think I can live with what we did to her either.”

“Honestly, me neither”

She sat next to him, her knees accidentally bumping. “We must solve this, Freddie.” “The problem is I don’t even know where to start.”

Fred shuffled onto his seat, trying to dissipate the tension accumulated in his muscles.

“What if the witches did it, Daph? What if she was getting involved with a guy, watching him in the woods, to keep it secret from her parents, that if she offended them? You know that she is not the first girl to disappear in that exact same place. Matilda Jonhson and Lauren Oliver disappeared there too about sixty years ago. "

“Amanda is the first one to be found though.”

“I don't know, Daph, at this point any of these makes sense.”

“Do you really think that’s an actual possibility?”

“Maybe. I don't know. It’s usually Velma the one who draws the conclusions.”

“I don't think we should get her involved. None of them”

Daphne agreed.

“And what are we going to do?”

“We are going to investigate. “Tomorrow after school, we will pay a visit to the morgue.”

After all, it seemed that once again, they had a mystery on their hands.

[almostgigi]

˚ ｡˚ Place In Me ˚｡˚

Eddie Munson

Content Warning: fem!reader, y/n use, tons of original characters throughout the story, strangers-to-lovers with a fun twist, angst, fluff, eventual smut, nsfw MDNI +18 (I'm serious), loss, constant grief, miss communication, abandonment issues, daddy issues (f), monoparental family, violence, drug and alcohol use and abuse. If anything's missing tell me and all add it. But for now that's it. Enjoy!!

Introduction 0/?

November 19

I adjusted the edges of my black dress, my stockings and the laces of my boots. I had to look presentable. Still, I was uncomfortable, dresses aren't my thing, but mom had insisted that it would look cute. If Lucy could see me now she would surely be dying of laughter on my face. Well, it's funny that I used that verb, since she was already dead.

On the door of the church could be read:

"Mass for the life of Lucy Kell 6:00 p.m."

I walked in with my head down, I knew her picture was in front of me. That photo that her mother had chosen, where she smiled with all her teeth and her face was covered in acne. Lucy hated her smile and her acne. But apparently her mother wasn't aware, she hadn't even asked her best friend in the whole world for her opinion on the matter.

I sat in the second row behind some of her relatives. When I felt ready I was able to lift my head and look at her photo, only to realize that I would never be ready to see my best friend there, lying in that horrible place, her eyes closed, her hands relaxed on her chest.

Suddenly everything was blurry and I couldn't hear well, I know my mother was talking to me, but I couldn't focus on her or her words. I was about to have an episode. I tried the best I could to channel my emotions, The hand of my little sister, Lynn, caught me at that very moment when I closed my eyes with force. She was looking at me fearfully, but knowing it wasn't a one time thing. She knew me and she helped me, she squeezed her fingers harder until I calmed down.

Lucy's parents had given a beautiful speech about her and what she was like. Too bad I didn't hear it all, but I knew they were full of shit. They didn't know her own daughter, at least not in the way I knew her. She had always been totally transparent with me, she was real. If they had known half the things Lucy had done at 17, oh my god. This funeral would probably be nothing more than something simple. The shame would eat them alive, and it's that I knew the Kells, so conservative and hateful with her. They had never supported her in anything. But I can't claim anything anymore, Lucy wouldn't suffer anymore.

The posters for prevention against suicide and drug use were not lacking to decorate the neighborhood, and I say decorate because nobody sincerely cares.

"… and receive y/n Robbins, who will offer a few words for my Lucy" Mr. Kell's voice was clearer now. When I agreed to write a few words for Lucy I think I forgot that I would have to read them out loud. My steps felt like when you walk silently on autumn leaves. All eyes were on me as I stepped onto the stage. I opened the paper and arranged the microphone.

I clear my throat:

"Um well, for those who don't know me, I'm Lucy's best friend" maybe I should have said was, right? No. She is my friend, my soul mate. "I have shared most of my life with her and vice versa, I don't need to express what she means to me. What happened is difficult for all of us. From the bottom of my heart, Lucy Lu, I love you and I hope that heaven has beer and Nickelback" at this point the tears just fell, but they didn't affect my voice. "thank you".

I went back to my place, but not to sit down. "Mom, I'm going outside to get some air." She gave me a sympathetic look and looked straight ahead. The mass continued, but I headed for the door.

It was warm outside, the sun was about to set. I closed my eyes and hugged myself by the shoulders feeling the warmth on my skin. An almost inaudible noise brought me out of my thoughts. I followed it where I thought it came from. At the side of the church a boy around my age, leaning against the wall, smoking what I could recognize as weed. If this isn't a sign of Lucy, I don't know what is.

I would soon find out if meeting him would be my heaven or my hell.

A WIP I've been on for the most part of the last 3 years. Hope you enjoy it, I already have a few chapter written so I'll release them most on September 🤗 don't be shy, leave a comment and reblog if you liked it, gives me will to keep posting ❤‍🩹

[mrsoharaa]

sorry @lazyjellyfish300 babe! it wouldn't let me post/reblog the entire thing for some reason so I have to make it a separate post! 😅

but this was sooo so much fun to do! thankies for the tag! this was really cute! 🥰🥹🫶🏼

ohhh looks funnn! <33

holding hands · buying flowers (Sugu gives me really pretty Azalea's and Miggy gives me gorgeous peonies!) · cooking (they're the chefs in the relationship lol) · cuddles (is a MUST) · writing a poem / song · holding door open · tying shoe laces · sharing a milkshake with two straws · offering their jacket when it's cold (it's like the moment they hear me shivering they immediately give me their long jackets! sweethearts!) · kissing in the rain (ALL THE TIME IDC MY FAVE TYPE OF KISS EVER) · publicly confessing love(idk Migs likes privacy but will still confess and Sugu is a strong maybe! <3) · long walks at the beach (ABSOLUTELY especially at night!) · doing the titanic pose on a boat · taking cute pictures in a photo booth (will drag them both lmao) · sharing a taxi / uber · kissing the back of their/my hand (YES YES) · slow dancing (FUCK YESSS!) · getting tickets of their favorite artist / sports team / other (want my hubbys to be happy and having a great time!) · introducing them to parents (my mom would probably honestly ADORE them!) · lighting candles (Sugu yes, Migs probs not because of his sensitive senses :( but that's ok! as long as he's comfy and stressed free! <3) · flower petals on bed (when I tell you that these two are absolute cliche adorable classic lovebugs! ugh their so cute! rose petals EVERYWHERE!) · love letters · star gazing · brushing / doing their hair (oh, I'm in Suguru's long princess beautiful hair 25/8!) · picnics · teaching them to play an instrument / sport while gently guiding their hands (If i remembered how I played the violin then sure!) · compliments (it's literally PRAISE CENTRAL in both relationships!) · late night drives · taking selfies together (lol I convince force them) · drawing them (if I remember how to draw lmao) ·

self-made gifts · massages (YES IT'S A MUST) · proposing with a family heirloom ring · lending them their favorite book to read (with a kissing toll of course from me hehe!) · paying for dinner / coffee (they literally spoil me to no end! like I can pay for my own stuff but they insist to persistently/stubbornly!) · mixtapes / playlists (I strongly believe they have private playlists of songs that remind them of me, of course I do on my spotify, literally! <3) · surprise birthday parties (Miggy is iffy on them, but doesn't entirely hate them and Suguru is greateful for them, even just the thought put into it makes him so thankful and appreciative! they would both surprise me with a nice outting I think! tell me to dress nicely and take me out to a nice romantic dinner! ahhh getting so giddy about it since my bday is literally coming uppp! (the 15th!) · feeding them · handing them keys to your apartment · making space in drawer for their clothes when they stay over · sharing a blanket · couple costumes · tucking a hair strand behind their ear (the amount of strength I'd have to withhold from pouncing on them the moment they do that is unbelievable...and astonishing) · running after them at the airport / keeping them from leaving (I'm a clingy mother fucker so of course I'm gonna run after them and smother them to pieces!) · moving cities to be together (will need to be discuss but it's a high possibility! I would move close to them 100%!) · blowing a kiss (only my annoying goofy ass would do that rofl, all they would do is flirtatiously wink back at me with a slanted grin that makes my knees weak!) · breakfast in bed (it's like I don't have any limbs to use at this point lol they practically do EVERYTHING for me and it's annoyingly/adorably sweet!) · defending them in a fight (oh, you bet your ass I'm defending my men in a fight! IDC if I don't have any special super-human powers or Jujutsu techniques! I know how to throw hands and maneuver around (thanks to my height lol!) don't touch my man without me jumping in!) · joint bubble baths (an ABSOLUTE MUST. on BOTH parties) · dropping the L-bomb (this would have to take a some time, for both of them due to their rigid past traumas...but it's alright, I am patient when it comes to these two! though they truly, deeply appreciate/adore it when I tell it to them! they love the reassurance <3) · dedicating a song at the karaoke bar to them (you couldn't get me drunk/high enough lmao I'm sorry, but absolutely not.) · wearing their clothes (honestly their FAVORITE THING EVER. eyes stay pinned onto me whenever I "borrow" their clothing (especially their loong cozy sweatshirts/hoodies) <3)· yawning before putting an arm around them while watching a movie (lol they're sooo cliche and cheesy, but YES they both do this and it's so corny but cute) · granting them the last bite from a meal (it depends on what said meal is, if it's any form of pasta then NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. LOL I love them but I love my pasta. true pasta girl at heart!)

no pressure tags!; @ anybody who wishes to joinnn! ♡

[justforbooks]

Of all the cartoonists whose work appears in Trina Robbins’s brilliant book, The Flapper Queens: Women Cartoonists of the Jazz Age, my favourite is Fay King. Like her dazzling contemporaries, King used her strips to review movies and plays, as well as to chart the latest fashions. But she’s at her best – and her most modern – when her material is autobiographical. “The ukulele has not made me as popular as I expected,” she writes, in a cartoon depicting herself, all 45-degree angles and shingled hair, learning new instruments. “Women now read newspapers,” she observes tartly, in one of several strips in which her feminism is explicit. And then there’s her intriguingly hectic private life. In 1913, King caused a stir when, having married boxer Battling Nelson, she filed for divorce only a month later, claiming that he had kidnapped her and forced her to get hitched.

But in truth, every page of this luscious collection is delightful. Quietly curated by Robbins, an Eisner award-winning comics historian – she’d rather showcase her subjects’ work than spout social history – it begins with the most famous flapper cartoonist of them all, Nell Brinkley, who in 1925 began working on the first of her beautifully illustrated serials starring several somewhat daffy females: The Adventures of Prudence Prim; The Fortunes of Flossie; Dimples’ Day Dreams (in which the heroine fantasises, among other things, about running for president). Brinkley was wildly influential, “the most copied artist in the world”, according to some.

She was not alone. At the Boston Post, Edith Stevens was drawing a daily strip, Us Girls, devoted largely to fashion (“For winter, stockings with larger open mesh than ever,” she writes, gently poking fun at the latest torture device for the modish female), while Ethel Hays, whose career began at the Cleveland Press, turned her attention to all manner of modern problems, from the best way to cover one’s bathing suit (“the water is so concealing”) to the trouble with marriage (“Brides beware!” she warns her readers. “Don’t expect a Chesterfield. Be content with a human being.”).

I’m mad about this book. If it isn’t cartoon bliss, I don’t know what is – though sadly there’ll be no chortling on the bus: it’s too big to slip into your bag. Robbins wasn't certain where the word flapper originated. It could refer to the movements involved in dancing the charleston, though her preferred theory arises from the fashion in the 1920s for leaving your galoshes unfastened, which meant that they flapped as you walked. But what Robbins understood was that these six American women (the others are Eleanor Schorer and Virginia Huget) represent a revolution, not only in hairstyles and hemlines, but in a woman’s autonomy. They were working girls. The sharp elbows and pointy knees they gave their heroines not only made them look good in short, sleeveless dresses; they spoke, too, of a certain energy: a restless desire to be something more than just a fashion plate, a wife, a mother.

✔ The Flapper Queens edited by Trina Robbins is published by Fantagraphics

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

WIP Wednesday

A little fluff from Hope Is Home and the Heart Is Free, the epilogue to All Dreams Were Worth Keeping (the one where NMJ [and the other two to a certain extent] has to come to grips with his grief over losing his father while navigating fatherhood himself). Right now Nie Mingjue has recently accepted the fact that the best thing to do with Lao Nie's old clothes is to incorporate them into his own wardrobe.

--//--

“I look just like him already even without all this,” Nie Mingjue says to the room at large. Meng Yao is sitting on the floor pulling things out from under the bed one at a time and he doesn’t look up from where he’s attempting to carefully extract a bundle of loose papers as he replies.

“Yes, I’ve noticed. Huaisang showed me some old photos from his mother’s scrapbooks; he was handsome, though I can very un-objectively assert that you’re much sexier.”

Nie Mingjue snorts at that and lets the amusement distract him long enough to shrug out of his own t-shirt and into the one in his hands. It’s plain, utterly indistinguishable from one of his own except for the fact that the fabric is downy soft and worn thin, the texture of it a far cry from the thicker weave of his own (likely much more expensive) clothes. He picks up the next thing he spots to go with it and shrugs into a stiff button-down, the Hawaiian print in shades of blue and green not nearly as obtrusive as some of the other pieces he distinctly remembers Lao Nie wearing regularly, laughing and larger than life either at the kitchen island or out in the back yard where they used to have a massive gas-powered grill for summer evenings.

Meng Yao looks up at him when he goes still again and Nie Mingjue watches his husband clamp an utterly blank mask over whatever it is he’s thinking – he hasn’t done that in so long that Nie Mingjue’s first instinct is to get defensive, but he forces himself to breathe through it instead of getting irritated.

“What’s that face for?”

“I’m not making a face.”

“Exactly.”

Meng Yao’s resolve visibly wavers for a moment before he covers his eyes with one hand and sighs. “You were wearing something almost identical to that the first time we hooked up, that’s all.”

Nie Mingjue blinks at that and glances down at himself, picking up the hem of the Hawaiian shirt between thumb and forefinger to study it and try to remember if he owns something like it. He’s never bought a Hawaiian shirt that he’s aware of, but there’s no doubt at all that Meng Yao’s memory is infinitely better than his so there’s very little chance that he’s wrong.

Still, that small hint of doubt pushes him to double check, “Are you sure?” which rightfully earns him a little pouting glare for daring to question Meng Yao’s ability to recall just about anything.

“Yes, and I distinctly remember spending most of the day wishing you didn’t look so good in what I would generously call ‘dad clothes’ even back then, and I’m feeling particularly vindicated in my assessment now that we’ve started this project. You already dress like an old man, I’m just glad we can save money on buying you a whole new wardrobe to facilitate that.”

“A-Yao if you have a thing for dads you can just say so-”

“Oh we are absolutely not having this conversation right now. Go back to your sorting, I’m busy.”

Nie Mingjue laughs at the blush in the apples of his husband’s cheeks, but he generously doesn’t press him on it, hopefully to bank a little good will for when he will inevitably irritate him again later. With Meng Yao unwilling to help him stall any longer, Nie Mingjue takes a deep breath in and turns to face the mirror in the wardrobe, long enough to capture most of his tall frame.

[sheliesshattered]

So it turns out I completely forgot to take any pictures of my last sewing project. Oops. In fairness, it's a gift for my mother, whose birthday is tomorrow, and I didn't want to post any pictures until after it had arrived at her house and been opened. But I still meant to take some pictures, if not of the process at least of the final product. It wasn't until I got home from mailing it that I realized I full on completely forgot to take any photos at all. Oh well. Maybe Mom can snap a picture or two for me since I flat out forgot. Pics of that if/when I actually have them, lol.

But I'm already into my next sewing project, and I've resolved not to make that same mistake again. Which, really, is nearly the same mistake as I made with my fleece dress last month, when I didn't take any pictures at all until all the major seams were sewn. After documenting so much of my sewing throughout 2023, I seem to have completely forgotten all about taking photos of my works-in-progress the last couple of months. I aim to get back on course with this project, though!

The project in question is a hooded wrap sort of thing, made from the black and gray brushed cotton herringbone that I got a bolt of on ebay a couple of weeks back. After washing the bolt, it looks to be about 43" wide and roughly eight and a half yards long. I want to make an overdress for my fleece dress out of it too, but I think this wrap project will only take up about a yard and a half, maybe two, so I should have plenty left for an overdress. And then I can wear the wrap and the overdress together, potentially.

But really the thing I'm sewing this for is my birthday, which is coming up in about seven weeks. I have somehow talked Jack into going to Disneyland and spending all day in the Star Wars Galaxy's Edge area so I can pilot the Millennium Falcon as many times as possible, and doing some original costuming "Batuu-bounding" while we're there, too. Because I am nothing if not a costume nerd, and my life-long love for Star Wars has recently been reignited, so what better way to spend my birthday than dressed up in one of the best examples of 360 degree set building that I've ever seen.

After combining a bunch of pieces from my closet and my costume boxes, I've come up with an outfit that I like the look of, for a general purpose Force-sensitive smuggler pilot: my every-day tall Doc Martens with wraps over them, leather-look leggings, the vest from my Moment cosplay, and various accessories from my pirate-core and Wasteland days. I may need a better shirt to go with it, but I'm hoping to hit up Goodwill at least once or twice between now and then and see what I can find. The final choice will depend on a bit on the weather that week, which in late February in southern California can be literally anything from the cusp of freezing to 80 degrees, sunny or rainy or windy or some combination of all of them. I won't really know until the weekend beforehand.

Besides a shirt, the last piece I really want to add is this hooded wrap, both for practicality -- warmth in the morning and the evening, and keeping the sun off my head at midday without messing up my hair too much -- and for just the drama of a big hood and drapey wrap. I based the hood pattern on the hooded Vuvalini jacket I made for Wasteland Weekend way back in 2016, but took it in a bit both in width and depth (since I'm not trying to catch the wind with this one, and won't be wearing a fluffy scarf with it).

Over the weekend I drafted a pattern and made a mock-up, but the mock-up is really kinda ugly, since I used left over fabric and made a part of it significantly smaller just to save on fabric, so it's one of those mock-ups where you have to squint and imagine what the final product will look like. Not going to bother taking pictures of that. But it did serve the purpose of clarifying some design elements and finalizing fit, so still worthwhile.

With the hood pattern drafted and tested, and measurements for the long wrap bits figured out, I went ahead and cut it out of the herringbone fabric. Here it is all cut out, three pieces for the hood and two pieces for the back:

I'm doing french seams on this project, both to combat the fabric's tendency to fray, and to keep all the inner seams looking pretty when the hood is down, etc. Tonight I sewed up the first set of seams on the center back of the wrap, and all three hood pieces (as modeled by my sewing ham):

Tomorrow I'll press those narrow seams flat, and then sew each of them again a bit further in to completely encase the raw edges (ie a classic french seam). Next step after that will be attaching the hood to the right angle formed by the wrap pieces coming together in the center back. I did this, with shorter and narrower pieces, in my mock-up, and it's a little bit fiddly but not too bad. I didn't french seam the mock-up though, so we'll see if that adds any headaches to this.

Once both stages of the neck seam are done and the hood is attached, the last step will be hemming! And it's a lot of hemming, lol. The shorter edges of the wrap (starting from the top of the center back, where it meets the hood) are each 48" long and 18" wide. I actually haven't measured the outer, longer edge, nor done the math to figure out what it must be given that the center back is cut on a 45 degree bias, but let's just say it's a lot of inches. And then there's the hood opening too, which was cut to have a generous drape. Many many inches of hemming, really probably better measured in yards.

I need to play around with a couple of options, see if I like the look of top stitching or if I want to do the whole thing by hand with invisible stitches, but right now my assumption is that I'll end up doing this by hand. I actually enjoy handsewing hems, so that's not the worst thing in the world, and I've got plenty of time to get this finished before I plan to wear it at the end of February. I do have at least one other sewing project I'd like to tackle for our Star Wars Batuu-bounding day, and I'd like to leave room for other things to come up at the last minute too, so I'm going to keep buzzing through this just as quickly as I can. More pictures tomorrow, in all likelihood.

After I call my mom of course, and wish her a happy birthday. And beg her for photos of that thing I made for her, lol.