#they're not going to nurse me back to health

[httyd-art-requests]

Hellooo!! I saw a drawing come across my dash recently by you that I believe was original art with your ocs?? I’m a big sucker for httyd ocs and I was wondering, how many do you have? Would you be willing to talk about them maybe??

YIPPEE I love talking about my OCs!! Thank you for the interest, I'm more than willing to talk about my little guys and gals <3 It's probably going to get long, sooo...

OC lore and art under the ominously placed readmore button. smile

Dreamer

The pair you (probably) saw the art of are my self insert, Dreamer, and his Deathgripper companion Draugr. Dreamer is a scholar and healer's apprentice who arrives on New Berk to study dragons in order to better heal them... except he's also terrified of them. Draugr is one of Grimmel's former Deathgripper minions who was stranded on New Berk after the events of (my alternate version of) THW. Dreamer nurses him back to health, and in return he helps Dreamer get over his fear of dragons.

Dreamer also has 2 Terrible Terror buddies, and they're also the ones who deliver all your asks to me :) They're called Terror Mail for a reason, hehe

Light Furies

I have a pair of female Light Fury OC named Eclipse and Sunny, who are a mated pair. Eclipse is melanistic and a menace to humans and dragons alike, and Sunny is the only dragon she likes having around her. Grumpy one × Sunshine one.

Eclipse was gravely injured in a fight to defend her territory from another dragon, and would have perished had Sunny not stumbled upon her. Sunny, a young female who recently left her flock to establish her own, refused to leave a fellow Light Fury to her fate- no matter how much of a hassle she insisted on being. And thus, Sunny slowly carved out a place for herself in Eclipse's cold, cold heart, and two of them remained by eachother's sides ever since.

I plan on redrawing them sometime soon, now that my style has changed somewhat

The Huntsman

The proverbial meat and potatoes of my OC roster. He has the most detailed story out of all of them, and he's one of my favorite OCs I've ever made <3

His name is Iskar, also known by his moniker as the Huntsman. He's the son of a dragon hunter who, after his father's fleet was burned down and pillaged by a mysterious warlord, was raised by the family of a blacksmith on a faraway island where dragons only exist in folktales.

Well, except for one...

Iskar's Night Fury, Warden, who was kept as a living trophy on his father's ship before it burned. Iskar formed a bond with the dragon, who then stole him away to save his life. The two of them have become inseperable, and Warden is part of the reason Iskar is feared across the Archipelago. As for the other reason...

Iskar also gets involved with Drago Bludvist, following a trail of rumors in an attempt to find his father again. Drago blackmails him into working for him, and Iskar becomes something like a personal attack dog and assassin for Drago. He earns himself a reputation and becomes a wives' tale across the Archipelago, and it isn't until he meets Hiccup, during Drago's siege on Berk, that he's convinced to take up arms against Drago and free himself. Iskar switches sides to help save Berk, gives Hiccup his own world map as a farewell gift, and returns home to his family after nearly 10 years.

In a sort of epilogue / theoretical second movie, Iskar takes his niece, Valorie, to Berk so she can learn to train dragons "the proper way". Needless to say, Berk is not very happy to see the man responsible for almost getting their island destroyed. Iskar acts as a translator between Valorie and the Berkians, as Valorie doesn't speak their language and Iskar does (on account of his travels with Drago), and through the course of their stay on the island, he successfully redeems himself in the eyes of the Berkian population.

Valorie

Okay she's not actually Iskar's niece. She's the daughter of Runar and Ylva, the blacksmith and his wife who originally raised Iskar, and the ones Iskar returned home to after he was free of Drago. They had her while Iskar was away working for Drago, and she was around 8 years old when he came back home, give or take. She grew up knowing him as Uncle Iskar, the globetrotter and explorer who occasionally came home to bring her cool presents.

She grew up with a Night Fury around the house, so naturally, she became fascinated by dragons and dragon riding- which Iskar definitely didn't help with, considering he engineered Warden's saddle to have a second seat right behind the rider's own.

She eventually bonds with a Stormcutter while studying under Berk's finest (Fishlegs), whom she names Windseeker.

Valhalla's Gate

Not a character, but an island Iskar discovers during his travels as a free man after Dragos defeat. Iskar is a cartographer by profession, thus the handcrafted world map he gifts Hiccup, which just so happens to contain directions to a hidden island Iskar has named Valhalla's Gate.

It's a dragon sanctuary through and through, built around and on the back of a sleeping Foreverwing which guards the island and all of its inhabitants. You can only approach the island on dragon back, similar to how you could only leave Vanaheim by smelling a certain way to trick the Sentinels in RTTE. A natural defense mechanism, if you will.

Iskar often takes detours on his travels to visit the island, and becomes well known by all the dragons that live on it. Hiccup also finds it thanks to Iskar's map, shortly after Berk rebuilds itself and Hiccup has to suddenly take on a lot of chiefly responsibilities- and what better way to deal with newfound responsibilities than to follow a mysterious map given to you by a guy who tried to kill you? Surely nothing can go wrong. Smile.

Conclusion

There's a lot more to say about all of them, but hopefully this about covers the important parts. I could go on about Ylva and Runar, Iskar's relationship with Eret and Hiccup, Dreamer's relationship with the Berkians, etc etc, but this reply is long enough already lol

I'm always happy to talk about my characters, so feel free to ask me stuff about them if you guys are interested! But, seeing as this is primarily an art request blog, I won't be talking about them much unless someone asks. That's what @wardenofdragons is for!

(He says, knowing full well he keeps forgetting to post on it)

[mainfaggot]

tw eating disorder talk, pt.2 to the last post in the tags (once again, no mention of numbers that could be triggering, just a heartfelt rant bc I've been so afraid of talking about these things on here, but i really just need to get everything out bc . I feel crazy)

[amariemelody]

This morning, how the hell did we have a legit Code Blue during shift change, got 15+ people in & out the room (including me, bringing the saline flushes and gloves), the monitor is still showing asystole (AKA flatline/heartbeat) for this poor old lady even after 3 rounds of chest compressions...

...And you're going to try to walk right on by with your backpack on and car keys in hand? You could only "try" because I know you doubled back and went out on the other side so people wouldn't see you walking out during a Code.

I don't...I get that I now work in a hospital and I'm Going To See Some Shit, but I don't...understand people right now.

I don't understand.

I drove home crying this morning.

[v-iv-rusty]

computers and consoles aren't even machines they're like animals to me

[stuckinapril]

i straightened my hair one (1) time. this is the first time in like 3 months. i just wanted to switch it up a little. then today i wash my hair and my day 1s are usually my best BUT today it's not as bouncy or shiny as it usually is. and i know it's bc of that one time. i literally was so careful to protect it from heat as much as i possibly could. but it's not enough. it's never enough

people who don't have naturally curly hair will never understand the hoops we have to jump through to keep our curls as healthy as they possibly could be. i am so serious

[ghostedeabha]

imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.

[suiana]

imagine yandere! drider who makes himself at home in the corner of your room one day.

you come home from work, absolutely tired and just wanting to have a break... only to hear a weird scratching sound coming from your room. what the hell could it be? surely it's just your imagination? so you make your way towards your room nonchalantly, pushing the door open and...

"wha-?!"

"oh, darling."

you freeze, staring at this... absolutely gorgeous drider who had made himself at home in the corner of your room... you were originally going to let things be until you saw the many tiny babies on the back of his spider lower body. screaming and throwing your bag at him, you slam your door shut and run away from your room as fast as you could. shit, shit, shit! a spider dilf?!

...you were going to escape until you hit your toe and started crying on the ground. the drider came out of the room (with babies and all) and nursed you back to health.

and that was your first meeting with the hot asf spider dilf in your room.

you later learned that he was surprisingly gentle and didn't mean for you to be scared by his appearance. you wanted to tell him the truth. that well, you weren't scared by his appearance, sure, you were stunned when you saw this whole ass grown dude in your room but he was hot so it doesn't really matter. but rather, his kids scared the hell out of you with their tiny beady eyes. however... you're sure that if you said that, he'd try and kill you. you've seen how caring and loving he is with his tiny spider babies after all.

you've also come to learn that he really loves making intricate web designs. designs that absolutely sparkle when the light hits them in a certain way... they're all so beautiful and mesmerizing that you can't help but compliment him whenever you can.

"hey, your patterns are beautiful as usual dude."

"ah... thank you love."

he blushes, avoiding eye contact as he shakily pulls out a flower from behind his back. right, he's been giving you these gifts at random too. it's cute. well, not when he just started out though. he used to gift you dead rats.

you were horrified when you woke up one day and saw a dead rat on your desk. what the fuck?! your drider roomie didn't seem all too phased, even looking at you expectantly as he waits for a compliment. you had to explain to him that humans don't accept gifts like that. he looked rather deflated the rest of the day after that. talking about how his spouse must hate him and stuff. you didn't know he had a spouse.

you've also realized that he's weirdly overprotective of you.

you can't even go out on dates anymore. or... talk to anyone for that matter. he once threw your phone at a wall when he saw you texting this guy you were planning on meeting up. he also gets all pissy and starts making weird spider sounds while his children crawl around your feet. you were super grossed out by that at first but you've grown used to it by now.

"dude stop, i just want to go on a date!"

"no."

"why?!"

"you already have me! that's why!"

he gets all pouty, arms crossed over his huge tits as he nags you about trying to cheat on him. you never really said anything about that before. surely he's just roleplaying because you sometimes act like his lover by giving him food and asking how he is. but this has gone too far! you have to say something!

"we aren't dating, what are you on about?"

"yeah, because we're married."

what.

you stare at him, jaw dropping as his kids tug on your pants and chat noisily. did he just... say you guys were married? you try searching his face for any lies, only to be hit by the fact that he was serious.

that's when everything starts to suddenly fit together in your mind. the gifts, the name-calling, the fact that his kids love you... damn, maybe it was also because you complimented his webs that solidified his belief that you two were together. you read somewhere that male spiders make patterns to impress potential mates.

"um..."

"hmph! don't go on any dates anymore. i can't believe you keep trying to be unfaithful. our kids will be sad you know!"

damn it, looks like you got yourself a drider husband now.

[yamujiburo]

Got a few asks about what Pokemon I think Jessie and James would have if 1. they didn't just have the gacha machine and only caught Galarian Pokemon and 2. if they had the chance to go to Paldea

GALAR

Jessie: Sandaconda, Snom➡️Frosmoth, Impidimp➡️Morgrem

Sandaconda is a snake Pokemon. Jessie should be allowed to have all snake Pokemon. Period. Love the idea of her finding it and being unsure of what the hell she's looking at because it's all coiled up but upon it briefly uncoiling she falls in love.

Jessie should have had an Ice Type Pokemon at some point for real. Snow and ice play two big roles in her backstory (eating snow/growing up in a snowy location and her mother disappearing in an avalanche). Her having a lil Snom that's not particularly useful but that she grows to love would be so CUTE. They eat snow together!! Then I love the idea of her going from not thinking much of it to getting more and more attached to it over the series and then having it evolve to Frosmoth after some time (it'd remind her of her old friend Dustox)

Okay this one's gonna take a little explaining but I think it'd be so funny if at the same time, Jessie catches a Hatenna and James catches an Impidimp (mostly because Jessie wants the cute one). BUT Impidimp starts gravitating to Jessie because of her negative energy, which it feeds off of. She's much easier to prank and irritate than James, who's too much of a sweetheart and a little less susceptible to pranks. Jessie never finds out that Impidimp is the one pranking her but notices that it's taken a liking to her for some reason so she and James end up trading their Hattena and Impidimp with each other. It later evolves into Moregrem

James: Polteageist, Toxel, Hatenna➡️Hattrem

I think James is a tea lover, and enjoyed fancy teas when he was a child. Since he's a collector of bottlecaps and Pokeballs, I could see him also collecting teapots/teacups. Maybe they're in a haunted mansion one day and he grabs a teapot thinking it's a rare find but it's actually a Pokemon to his surprise. Also I think he deserves to have an Antique form, so it IS a rare find.

James having another baby Pokemon to fawn over like Mime Jr. would be so cute. It's an egg that the trio find but Jessie's too lazy to take care of it and Meowth's traumatized after the Togepi situation, not wanting to go through all that again. Toxel is born and it's James' everything. It's a bit bratty and constantly vying for his attention, usually by shocking and poisoning him but luckily James has built up an immunity to both those things thanks to Pikachu and Mareanie.

As stated before, James catches Impidimp initially but trades it for Jessie's Hatenna. Hatenna was NOT okay with the amount of emotions Jessie brought to the table and couldn't stand to be around her, often going to James who's much calmer between the two of them. Annoyed by it not liking her and finding that Impidimp DID like her, Jessie demands suggests a trade, which James is okay with as he's been growing attached to Hatenna. After it evolves into Hattrem, it starts (affectionately) smacking him whenever he shows too much emotion, carrying on the "James' Pokemon beat the shit out of him" legacy.

PALDEA

Jessie: Flittle➡️Espathra

Flittle just seems fitting for Jessie. She's always wanting a cute little baby Pokemon but funnily enough, never really gets one in the show. She absolutely pampers it and dresses it up. It eventually evolves into Espathra. Still being Jessie's mini-me, it often mimics her, particularly when Jessie's angry

James: Arboliva

Arboliva just feels like a Pokemon James would have LMAO. I think it'd be really sweet if after a particularly bad blast off, Arboliva finds Team Rocket and helps nurse them back to health even though they're mostly okay. They're grateful to it, James captures it and it continues to try mother all of them (in a less aggressive way than Bewear).

Shared: Scovillain

Listen. It'd be SO funny if Jessie and James shared a Pokemon. They see two Pokemon in the tall grass one day. A Pokemon with a red head and a Pokemon with a green head. Only having one Pokemon each at this time, they decide it's a good idea to catch another each. They throw their Pokeballs at the same time and the catch is successful! Just one problem. They find out the two Pokemon they tried to catch was actually just one Pokemon and they don't know which of the Pokeballs they threw was the one that actually caught it. They argue about it for quite a while but then agree to share custody. Leads to some funny scenarios where they're both trying to direct it in a battle. The red head prefers Jessie and the green head prefers James.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Home to My Family

Amazing idea from @avada-kedavra-bitch-187!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: After you give birth to twins, they're taken by a nurse for checkups. You soon realize that she's not a nurse, so Tim calls in reinforcements to save your children and catch their abductor.

Warnings: child abduction, r just gave birth but story begins post-labor, angst, happy ending with fluff

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“Congratulations,” the doctor says as your second baby is placed in your arms. “Two healthy babies.”

“They’re perfect,” you murmur, your eyes on the baby boy in your arms.

“A nurse will be in shortly to take them for full checkups,” someone informs you.

“How do you feel?” Tim asks.

You look away from your son and smile at the sight of Tim holding his daughter. She beat her brother into the world by nearly three minutes, and Tim has been enraptured with her since then.

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “We did good.”

Tim scoffs and lays his hand on your son’s back as he corrects, “We did great.”

“Hello, Bradfords,” a nurse greets with a knock on the open door. “I’m here to borrow these babies.”

You watch as Tim hands your daughter to the nurse to be placed in a bassinet before he turns to you to take your son. It makes you uncomfortable to hand them over so soon after giving birth, but the first checkup is necessary. Tim takes your hand and sits on the edge of your hospital bed to wait together.

“Did you call Angela?” you ask.

“Where are those pretty Bradford babies?” another nurse singsongs as she enters. “Checkup time!”

You furrow your brows, but Tim is on his feet before you can ask any questions. Tim is heartbreakingly familiar with the reality of evil in the world, and he realizes before you that something terrible has happened. As he races into the hall, fear settles over you as tears build in your eyes. If the real nurse is here now, who has your children? And where are they?

The nurse leaves to double-check that your babies weren’t transported by another nurse, and you’re left alone. After several minutes alone, scared, Tim returns and shakes his head. His jaw is clenched tightly, but you can tell he’s only a moment from breaking.

“I reported it to the department,” Tim says, his voice tight. “Angela’s on the way and I let her know too.”

You nod before you sit up carefully, wincing in pain as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed.

“Hey, hey, no,” Tim murmurs, rounding the foot of the bed. He lowers before you and lays his hands over your thighs. “You just gave birth; you need to rest.”

“I need to find them, Tim. We have to find them!” you exclaim through your cries.

“I know. We will, I promise we will.”

“But you don’t need my help.”

Tim smiles at your attitude, understandable anger building beneath your pain, fear, and tiredness.

“Your help isn’t the issue, it’s your health.”

“Timothy,” Angela greets. She walks to your side and hugs you tightly. “Tell me everything.”

You lie back carefully as Tim recounts the events of the past few minutes. Angela nods along, then looks around your room.

“They’re still in the hospital, I’d bet,” Tim concludes.

“Grey stationed officers at every opening to keep it that way,” Angela responds. “There’s plenty of hiding places in a hospital. But Tim…”

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I have no idea who would do this. I’ve put plenty of people away, called CPS hundreds of times, any of those people could have decided to return the favor.”

Lucy and Nolan knock on the open door, and Tim waves them in as Angela draws a diagram of the hospital on the whiteboard opposite you. Lucy walks directly to your side while Nolan stands beside the door to watch the hallway.

“What do you need?” Lucy asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “Other than the obvious.”

“We’re going to find them. Half of the station is here for you.”

“There’s only one option that finishes this quickly,” Angela decides. “We split up and search every floor of this hospital.”

Tim looks to you rather than answering, and you promise, “I’m okay to be alone. I trust you, all of you, to find them and bring them back to me. Do whatever you have to do.”

“We will,” Tim promises. “Nolan, stay here, keep an eye on this hallway. Lucy, you’re with me.”

Lucy squeezes your hand kindly before she walks to Tim’s side. Nolan steps out of your room with them and closes the door. Completely alone, all you can do is wait.

“Hey,” Tim calls urgently. A male nurse spins and raises his hands in question. “Have you seen a nurse in pink scrubs with twins?”

“There’s lots of nurses, pink scrubs, and twins here, sir,” the man answers.

Tim takes a measured step toward him, and the man steps back urgently, bumping into the desk behind him.

“Do you want to be charged with aiding and abetting a kidnapping?”

“Sir, if you’ve seen a woman in pink scrubs with two bassinets, you need to tell us now,” Angela interjects.

“I haven’t,” he answers quickly. “I swear I haven’t.”

Tim steps away from the scared nurse and sighs.

“This floor is clear, no sign of them,” Angela reports.

Tim’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he retrieves it without looking away from the empty hallway.

“I remember when I wasn’t allowed to look at my phone on duty,” Lucy muses.

“Your children hadn’t been abducted,” Tim snaps. He reads a message, furrows his brows, and then says, “Angela.”

Angela knows that Tim using her first name isn’t a good sign, and she's proven right when he passes his phone over. “Where is this?”

“I can’t tell. The message seems familiar,” Tim replies.

Angela zooms in on the picture while Tim repeats the message to himself. Lucy moves beside Angela and looks at the picture, pointing to any discernable items in the background. The image shows your son in the bassinet front and center, and while it’s clear that they’re still in the sterile, white hospital, it’s unclear where.

“Supply closet,” Angela realizes just as Tim says, “Keiran Tumble.”

“The counterfeiter?” Lucy asks. “What’s his problem with you?”

“I arrested him, but I’m also why he lost visitation rights for his kids. They were in the warehouse with the printing fumes. He hasn’t been out of prison long.”

“Prison for counterfeiting?”

“Federal prison. The Reserve pressed additional charges. When he got out, he got served with the papers about his kids.”

“Wait,” Angela interrupts. “You said it was a female nurse.”

“Keiran’s girlfriend,” Tim guesses. “I didn’t see her, she wasn’t there when we raided his operation, but I’ve heard plenty about her.”

“Me too. Tim, she’s suspected of at least three murders. This isn’t a manhunt; we have to find her without risking your kids.”

“ Supply closet?” Tim repeats. “Let’s find the right one, and then we move in. She makes one move toward them, and you drop her.”

“Tim, maybe you should sit this one out,” Lucy suggests.

“No,” Angela answers. “If this were Jack, I’d want to be right there when we found him. Look that monster in the face and remind her that at the end of every day, I go home to my family.”

“I’m more use here, Chen,” Tim assures. “How’s Nolan?”

“He said everything’s clear there. Only a few nurses through since we left.”

Tim nods, but Angela purses her lips in thought.

“What?” Tim inquires.

“Isn’t your room across from a supply area? Wouldn’t someone have needed something by now?” she asks.

“No one saw them because they didn’t go far,” Lucy realizes.

“Let’s go!” Angela exclaims.

Fiddling with the blanket over your legs, you think about what you will do when you get your babies back. Kiss them, apologize even though they won’t know what’s happening, and then beg Tim to take you home. You refuse to think about any alternative.

“Yep,” Nolan says on the other side of your door. “All clear here, too. Good luck.”

“C’mon, Tim,” you whisper.

You trust him more than anything, but right now, your fear threatens to override all of your rational thoughts.

Suddenly, a single gunshot sounds. Immediately after, you hear screams and loud promises that everything is alright and everyone is safe. You, however, refuse to believe it until you see your husband and children. Frozen in uncertainty and fear, you count your shallow breaths rather than running through possible scenarios.

Two firm knocks on your door are followed by Nolan smiling as he holds the door open. Tim steps in with both of your babies cradled in his arms and a relieved look. You release a shaky breath, then smile as tears roll over your cheeks.

“It’s over,” Angela promises as she hugs you. “We got her.”

Tim walks to the other side of your bed and carefully lowers the twins to your chest. They coo softly in their sleep, none the wiser about what they’ve been through. Holding them against you, you kiss their heads and whisper that you love them.

“Do you know what you need now?” Lucy asks.

“Get me out of here,” you beg, smiling.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she answers, leading Nolan out of the room.

“What happened?” you ask Tim.

“Do you remember Keiran Tumble?” You nod, and he places his arm around your shoulders as he continues, “He got out, mad about his arrest and losing his kids, and sent his girlfriend to make me feel some of the same pain. Or that’s the working theory.”

“It’s right,” Angela adds. “Only a criminal would be that stupid.”

"So, Nolan radioed an all-clear, got her guard down, and we went in. She shouldn't be out for a very long time."

You lay your head against Tim’s shoulder and say, “I love you.”

“Aw, I love you, too!” Angela jokes.

“If you weren’t our first choice for godmother, I’d kick you out,” Tim tells her.

“You love me.”

“Thank you,” you interject. “I’m glad you’re both here.”

“I’m going to go fill in Grey and then make sure your house is ready for an early return,” Angela says as she steps toward the door. “Need anything else?”

“You’ve done more than I can ever thank you for,” you answer. “I’ll call you later.”

“Like she won’t still be at the house when we get home,” Tim mumbles.

“Hey, I filled up your freezer with comfort food, be nice to me, Timothy.”

Alone with your babies, you smile as Tim extends his finger to your slowly waking son. You’ll never get tired of being with them, and there’s no one else you’d rather have by your side than Tim Bradford.

[hippiegoth97]

Random Eddie Thought #2

This one really got away from me, but it's nice to write something new again :)

18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie, smut, sex dreams/fantasies, mentions of genital piercings/oral sex/masturbation/choking/unprotected sex, invasion of privacy, erections, crying, heavy kissing, idiots in love, best friends to lovers

A Few Tags: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @babygorewhore @xxbimbobunnyxx @mediocredreams

@micheledawn1975 @slowandsteddie @bimbobaggins69 @etherealxwitch @taintedcigs

You're in the kitchen of your apartment, getting a snack to share with Eddie, your best friend, who's come to have a perfectly platonic sleepover with you. You've known each other since high school, becoming fast friends. You never fit in the with 'in crowd' and Eddie naturally picked up on your awkward and shy nature. Over the years he's managed to get you to open up more and be yourself, though it's mostly only around him, even after all these years. You tell each other everything, and have been there for one another through thick and thin.

One thing he hasn't seemed to notice, however, is your growing feelings for him. As you both matured into your mid-twenties, you've been unable to deny just how gorgeous Eddie is. With his long curls, big brown eyes, and lithe body covered in tats and piercings. Not to mention he's perpetually dressed in band tees and jeans that don't leave much to the imagination. Ugh, he's absolutely perfect. Inside and out.

That's not to say he hasn't always been hot stuff, because of course he has. But he's not the scrawny little boy who picked you out of a long line of geeks and freaks anymore. No, now he's a strong, handsome, sexy man. A man who treats you like no one ever has before. He brings you something every time he comes to see you, ranging anywhere between a new book or a pretty rock he found on a walk once. He opens doors for you, and holds you in his arms when you're sad. He makes you soup when you're sick, nursing you back to health even if it means missing work.

The only thing missing, is something you've craved since the day you met him. Something you've never spoken aloud. Something you've only verbalized in late night cries of ecstasy when you get off to the thought of your best friend. Something you've only admitted in the pages of your diary. The diary that Eddie has just found in your bedside drawer, along with a pretty pink rabbit that makes him chuckle when he first sees it.

And what do we have here?... Eddie thinks to himself, pulling the book out of its hiding place. It's thick, bound in leather, detailed with little leaves and flowers. He thinks maybe it's a poetry journal, or a sketchbook. You share his affinity for the creative. It isn't until he actually opens that he realizes what's inside. Your deepest, darkest secrets. He flips through the pages, noting the dates as he reads about strange dreams you've had, or bad one-night stands. His eyes widen when he reaches an entry from a week ago, with the opening line: I dreamt about Eddie again last night...

He debates putting the diary back, not wanting to invade your privacy. He's not one to snoop, especially when you tell him everything anyway. Well, at least he thought you did. He bites his lip, tapping his foot on the floor as he decides what to do. He really should just put it back, and pretend he never saw it (or your special toy). But something inside him begs to know what your dreams of him are like. If they're anything resembling the dirty fantasies he's had of you while alone in his bed, he can't let it go until he knows for sure. He decides to read the next few lines, after flicking his eyes to the doorway to listen for your footsteps coming back from the kitchen.

...it was the same as all the others. Eddie was in my bed, and we were naked. His soft, warm lips were on mine, his tongue was in my mouth, and his hands were everywhere. It felt so good, having him kiss me like that while he explored every inch of me. His fingers were carefully thrusting inside my pussy, making me so fucking wet. I could feel his dick pressing into my thigh, and I took him in my hand. The noise he made when I touched him was so beautiful, he sounded so breathless and needy for me...

Eddie knows he should stop. This is wrong. So, so wrong. These are your private thoughts, and he shouldn't be reading them. Even if they're making a tent form in his pants. His heart races in his chest, and he feels rather hot under the collar. His stomach twists with an uneasy mix of guilt and arousal. He lets out a shaky breath, once again weighing his options. Keep reading, or put the damn thing away and never, ever bring it up. He looks down the hall, wondering how much time he has left before you come back. Against his better judgment, he gives in to his desire for you. With eyes glued to your neat handwriting, he reads on.

...I could feel him grow in my hand, fuck, he was huge. I've seen it in real life before, and not entirely on accident. Since we're so close, we change in front of each other sometimes. And even though I've never seen it hard, I can tell his dick is big. It's even got a goddamn piercing on it, shining in the light like a lure. I swear to God, it takes everything in me not to fall to my knees and take him in my mouth whenever I see it...

Eddie scoffs loudly, unable to believe you've actually been checking him out. A part of him wonders if this is a sick joke, that you'd somehow known to leave this here for him to see. Any second now, you'll come busting in here and laugh in his face. Maybe even snap a picture of his embarrassingly large erection amd make copies to give all your friends.

But that's not you. You're too kind and sweet to him to ever pull such a cruel (and improbably elaborate) prank. Sure, he's wanted you for years. To call you his girl, to love you the way you should be loved. To kiss you, and hold you, and touch you in all the ways he thinks you'd like. To love you, and spoil you like the queen you are in his eyes. He's just never allowed himself to think you'd ever feel the same about him. Until now.

"What are you doing with that?" You ask softly, frozen in place in the doorway of your bedroom with a tray of snacks in your hands. Your eyes are blown wide, as you've come back to find Eddie on your bed, reading your diary, with a huge hard-on in his pants.

"I-I, I was, uh, just...um..." Eddie babbles helplessly, slamming the book shut and tossing it across the room. As if it being anywhere else will magically absolve him of invading your privacy. You just stare at him as he goes red in the face, and gestures with his hands as he fails to come up with an explanation. "...sorry." He says after letting out a long string of unintelligible sounds. He cringes at the word, realizing it's not nearly enough. But his mind and mouth can't come up with anything that doesn't sound like a feral goblin choking on a chicken bone.

"What part did you read?" You ask, your own cheeks turning a deep crimson. You really hope he didn't find your latest sex dream entry, but the glaring evidence in his jeans tells you that's exactly what he saw.

"Read? No, I was, um...j-just skimming..." He chuckles nervously, hoping you'll buy it. But the darkening blush on your skin and tears welling in your eyes lets him know he's truly caught. "Sweetheart, I—" Eddie starts, standing up as you're about to fall apart.

"Eddie, I swear, I-I didn't mean it! It was just a dream, and pfft! I was high when I wrote that!" You laugh uncontrollably as a way to hide your tears of embarrassment, frantically shaking your head. You've never been so mortified in your life, caught red handed in the worst way possible. You could've gone forever without ever letting him know how you feel. The potential rejection seemed too painful to endure. "I didn't mean it, Eddie. I didn't." Your laughter devolves into soft sobs, your grip loosening on the tray. Eddie catches it before everything tumbles to the floor, setting it on your dresser.

"Sweetheart, c'mere." Eddie takes your hands in his, and leads you over to your bed to sit beside him. You follow him, unable to do much else as tears stream down your face. "I'm sorry for snooping, angel. That wasn't right for me to do." He says sadly, stroking your soft skin with his thumbs. You nod in response. "And we can pretend this never happened, okay? Like you said, it was just a dream." He offers, his own words stabbing into his heart at the idea of never fully being with you the way he wants. But he doesn't feel like he's earned it. Not after making you so upset, and betraying your trust.

"Why did you read it?" You ask abruptly, more curious than angry. As humiliating as it is that he found you out before you could tell him yourself, you want to know how those secret words made him feel.

"I got bored, and curious. I found it in your drawer, thinking it was poetry or something. But then I found the entry of you dreaming about me..." Eddie trails off, pondering what to say next. "...and I got more curious."

"About what?" You continue, your tears drying up.

"About whether or not you want me the same way I want you." He boldly admits. He may as well, since your diary entries admitted your own wonderful, awful, heart-breaking, nerve-wracking secret to him. You don't say anything else, eyes blown wide in shock. "I want to be with you, princess. I've always wanted that." He says emphatically, making your heart swell as well as race.

"Really?" You ask, as if his erection earlier wasn't enough indication of his desire for you. You've dreamt about this moment so many times, spent numerous moments throughout the days and nights hoping one day he'd see you. You now stupidly realize, that there was never a time where he didn't.

"Yes, really. If you can forgive me for being a creep, that is." He says with a chuckle, making you giggle as well.

"Yeah, I think I can manage that." You smile, squeezing his hands with your own. "How far did you get anyway?" You ask curiously.

"Uh, right about where you talked about wanting to suck my massive, pierced cock." Eddie replies, moaning in an exaggerated way on his final words to tease you.

"Ugh, that's so embarrassing!" You groan, covering your face in shame.

"It's really not, babydoll. I'm just flattered that you noticed." He insists, pulling your hands down so he can see your pretty face again.

"I'll count myself lucky you didn't read any more." You giggle sheepishly, recalling how the rest of that dream went. You riding Eddie's cock while his large hand wraps tightly around your throat, filthy praises leaving his lips to spur you on. Him fucking you from behind, tugging your head back by your hair as he grunts and groans with every thrust. Among other equally explicit things.

"Shit, now I have to read the rest!" Eddie says impishly, diving off the bed to get the diary that still lays on the floor.

"Eddie, no! Please, it's too embarrassing!" You shriek, clamoring after him. But he's quicker than you, snatching up the book and holding it above your head. You try to jump up and tear it from his reach, but it's no use. He chuckles at your foolish attempts, slowly moving closer to you while still holding the diary above your heads. His free arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close. Your hands meet his chest, a small gasp leaving your lips at the sudden movement. He gazes deep into your eyes with burning lust, a smirk plastered on his lips.

"Think of it this way, sweetheart. If I read the rest, I'll know exactly what we're doing tonight." He speaks seductively, in a way you've only heard in your dreams.

"This can't be happening." You scoff, convinced you somehow fell asleep before Eddie came over tonight.

"Is it really so hard to believe that I'm in love with you?" He asks, dropping the Casanova act for a second and tossing the diary on the bed. He cups your cheek, and leans in to kiss you. His plush lips meet yours, giving you a taste of sweet, beautiful reality.

"Mm." You grab hold of the sides of his face, deepening the kiss. His tongue finds its way into your mouth, drawing a quiet moan from you. Time seems to stop as your mouths move together as one, and joyful tears spring from your eyes. This is all you've ever wanted. To love Eddie, and to have him love you back.

He carefully leads you backwards to the bed, laying you down on top of it as he kneels above you. He pulls away, wiping the salty tracks from your face. He smiles warmly, admiring every last bit of you and saving it away to remember this forever. "Can I make you feel good, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, as if it's his dying wish.

"Please." You reply softly, giving him a nod.

"Perfect." He reaches over for the diary, finding his place as he lays down beside you. "Now...where were we?" He muses, eyes bugging out when he reads what comes next. "Christ, I picked a good night to be nosy." He turns his head to look at you, wearing a devilish grin unlike you've ever seen on him before. "I swear to god, I'm gonna make all your dreams come true, babydoll. Even if it takes all night." He purrs, before chucking the damned book away one last time and pouncing on you.

[al1fers-haven]

I have a request :)

Maybe the reader owns Alastor's soul and calls him nicknames he doesn't like, but he puts up with it since they at least only do it in private.

He only gets them to stop after he calls them "sir/madam" in which they're like "😳 do it again"

(Fluff)

I absolutely loved writing this, i might incorporate it into a story I'm writing for him lol

“Of course Madam.”

Alastor x soul owner!reader. Prompt: After calling Alastor nicknames for so long and showing up in the most random places to do so, Alastor finally starts doing it back. Fluff

Alastor had literally owed his life to you, seven years ago when he was on death's doorstep you found him and nursed him back to health.

The rumors going on about some radio demon going missing and how they were so thankful really got you looking for him, and when you found him in that state? You couldn't just sit there and watch him die. About a year since the incident happened, Alastor offered his soul to you as a thanks for the help, bowing, and everything as he fixed the suit you fixed up for him.

And how could you say no to such a handsome man offering himself like that? Let alone an overlord.

He spent 7 years around you as thanks, cooking for you when you asked, doing the shopping, and then returning to his little radio shack that you adored oh so much. The man was completely oblivious to the signs you threw at him. When you asked him to accompany you to the Happy Hotel the princess was running, he almost wanted to say no till you poked out your lower lip and pouted. His leash was in your hand as he grumbled a yes.

Of course, whenever you two got to the hotel, it started with little things, calling him Al in front of everyone else and nothing else. Little snickers left Angel's lips at how quick he reacted to your asks. Constantly at your beck and call. But then it started to get worse.

Instead of Al, whenever you two were doing literally anything together alone you'd start calling him 'Puddin', or even 'Hon.' A lot of different reactions coming from Alastor each and every single time. His ears twitched as he expressed his obvious dislike for all of the nicknames you called him. Pudding? No

Sweetheart? Hell no

Berry man? Nope!

The only one he somewhat tolerated was 'Honey'. A warm feeling settled in his chest every time he heard that word fall from your lips. It wasn't until he spoke to rosie about it that he realized he might've fallen for your annoying habits.

It wasn't until he started that your feelings for him were obvious. Your face turned red as you called you mon cher and placed your plate in front of you. He couldn't help but chuckle a little bit. Your eyes go straight to the food.

"Alastor, be a sweetie and grab me a glass of water?" You looked back at the tall man. Alastor nodded his head and bowed a bit playfully. "Yes ma'am." You blinked a couple times, face flaring up once more as you suddenly appeared in front of him. Surprise written on his face. "What'd you say?" He tilted his head. "Yes ma'am?" You went quiet, squinting at him. "Say it again Alastor." "...Yes ma'am?"

You've never pounced on a guy that bad before, kissing him and nearly knocking him over actually.

The next time the group sees Alastor he's a mess, lipstick stains all over his face and shirt collar. His face was a bit pink as you stood next to him, lipstick smeared and smiling ear to ear. "ug...So..Mr.Smiley has a game?" Angel pointed at Alastor with a bewildered face.

[blyth-me]

drag me out: coriolanus snow

Summary: A night out with friends is good for your health but proves to be messier than expected as you find yourself entangled with a private at the bar.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ mdni, unprotected sex (cap before tap y'all), drinking, modern day military (peacekeeper!) coryo, cursing, choking, p in v, public sex, one night stand, oral sex, horny coryo, slight coercion if you squint, modern!au

THIS WORK IS 18+. IF I CANNOT SEE YOUR AGE, DO NOT INTERACT. ALL MINORS OR AGE ANON USERS WILL BE BLOCKED FROM THIS ACCOUNT.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I shit you not I've had this in my drafts since last December and it's been reworked two or three times so thanks for voting and clearing my drafts :)

masterlist

The bar was rowdy when you walked in. The spot (a dingy dive bar called Plutarch's) was frequently haunted by your girl friends after grueling exams, breakups, or a bout of weekend boredom. Your college wasn't far from the local military base and served as the perfect place for finding something to do on a Friday night. This one was no different.

You'd wanted to blow off steam after a long week. Or maybe it was blowing off steam before a long week. The holidays and "homecoming" seasons were difficult for a myriad of reasons. The topic of grades was a touchy subject with your family although you'd grown stronger as a student in recent years. Your mother, another reason, was the epitome of neurotic during the colder months. Your father always said it was "cabin fever" with a dismissive wave of his hand, never seeming to care enough to cure her. Your friends always rolled their eyes at your hesitance to go back home, but never dared to follow you and find out if you were telling the truth or not.

The group of girls you came with settled at the bar, ordering drinks and scoping out the crowd for something or someone to direct your night. You talked amongst yourselves over the band playing and whispered about the attractive patrons. Suddenly there was a cheer towards the pool tables, causing your eyes to wander to the source. A group of young men entered to join their friends.

"Do you think they're college kids?" One of your friends asked.

"With those builds? No way. Besides, I spot dog tags." Says another, who playfully shoved your shoulder.

You smirked and shook your head, finishing your drink.

"I came here to avoid problems, not get involved with a new one, remember?" You joked, eyes scanning the group of men.

Your group was left to giggle and gossip more and the drinks began to cause a buzz in your head. There was a tall blonde in the group by the pool table who your friend pointed out. His buzz cut made him stand out and you couldn't decide if he was magnetic or if it was the cocktail you'd been nursing. A tattoo peaked out of his shirt sleeve as he crossed his arms, watching his friends, then yours, then you.

You shared a moment of eye contact, his eyes locked in on yours. Your friends started to whisper excitedly, urging you to talk to him.

"No," you shook your head. "he can come over if he wants me."

You turned back to your friends, finished your second drink of the night, and carried on conversation for a few minutes until-

"Excuse me ladies, can I cut in?"

There he was, standing patiently in front of you as your friends quietly left the two of you alone. Up close, he was so much bigger than you anticipated. His shoulders were broad and he towered over you. His smile was polite and practiced, but his eyes seemed calculated, honed in. He was now your problem.

"You scared off my friends," you joked, turning around. "buy me a drink and make it up to me."

He laughed behind you, leaning next to you on the bar.

"What do you like?" His eyes gave you a careful scan as you told him your order.

The two of you laughed awkwardly and waited for your drink.

"Do you come here a lot?" He asked, making you scoff.

"God, do you try that on everyone?"

"Only the pretty girls." He handed you your drink. "Or the ones that might make me look better."

"Funny." You said, feeling a little more buzzed than usual.

"Did it work?"

You shrugged playfully and smiled. Maybe a little, you thought.

"Who are you?"

"Private Coriolanus Snow."

"Flashing your rank? You're on a roll."

He smiled at you in a way that made your stomach churn and look for your friends who are now mingling with his. When you turned back to him, he was resting his back against the bar, big hand cradling a beer. He really was so much bigger close up.

"So," you started, "do you come here a lot?"

This earned a laugh from him. It was a good, hearty laugh. A laugh that sounded like he needed it.

"I practically live here off base. It's my outlet besides working out."

Now it was your turn to laugh.

"Holy shit." You mumbled. "You've got all the lines ready." You let out another giggle and shook your head, looking at him.

"Alright, I'm gonna be honest." Coriolanus lowered his voice and leaned closer to you. "I get real lonely on base. My friends over there-" He nodded in the direction where your friend groups were mixed. "they want me to find someone pretty to..." he cleared his throat. "blow off steam."

You nearly choked on your drink. Coriolanus laughed a little at your reaction and took your drink, placing it next to his beer on the bar.

"Are you propositioning me, Private?" He laughed again and shrugged.

"What if I am?" He looked at you a little more seriously, his voice more firm as you felt yourself blushing from the eye contact.

"I drove my friends, I wasn't even supposed to be drinking." You trailed off and looked back at the group.

"Relax," He spoke softly, touching your arm. "you've already been irresponsible once tonight, what say you to another bad decision?"

You blinked up at him, unsure of what to say as you shifted near your barstool. There were a million thoughts running around your head and as if he could sense it, he gave your forearm a soft squeeze.

"No pressure. I just think you're cute and we could help each other out." He smirked and raised an eyebrow. "We don't even have to go back to base if you don't want prying eyes peeking in the barracks. The alley is usually empty."

"How do you know that?" You cringed slightly, hiding your amusement.

"The less you know, the better."

You found yourself laughing at his quick remark. Frankly, Coriolanus was right. You wanted to remain as clueless as possible. You looked at him again and recalled the whole purpose of your night out in the first place. He was really attractive, you couldn't ignore the way your heart was threatening to grow wings and fly out of your chest, but you were hesitant. What about my friends? You wondered.

"Fine. But," You looked at him. "We keep this a one night thing. I don't want to be a bootycall on base for you."

He shook his head and smiled at the floor.

"Do I come off that desperate?"

"No." You answered a little too quickly. You were very tipsy and he was getting better looking by the minute. His soft smirk drew your eyes to his lips. They were slightly parted as he laughed at your quickness.

Before you processed it, he placed a kiss to your lips and took your hand. You stood and followed him as he snuck you out the back door of the bar. Coriolanus made sure to hide you away in a corner before kissing you again. That time, it was longer, more desperate, and more sloppy. The mixing of drinks on your tongue made you never want to stop kissing him. Your drink and his beer somehow tasted better than you would have thought. He's got you caged against the wall as he worked his lips down your neck, his teeth and tongue nipping and soothing your skin.

"Think you can get on your knees, baby?"

You nodded eagerly as he fumbled with his belt. You dropped to your knees, the concrete scraping you through your jeans as you looked up at him.

"Just need you to get him warmed up." He mumbled, freeing himself from his jeans. A thigh tattoo caught your attention, the combination of letters and numbers were legible for a moment before Coriolanus lifted your chin with his free hand and stroked his cock with the other.

"You're pretty." He observed plainly, his hand pausing to guide your lips to his leaky tip. "Shit-" He groaned as you wrapped your lips around him.

He didn't waste any time, tangling his hand in your hair as he bobbed your head. You gagged slightly, your hands braced on his thighs. You felt your heart skip a beat as the slightest hint of a whine fell past his lips. You hollowed your cheeks and hummed. Coriolanus cursed again, head tipped fully back, before he pulled you off. You opened your mouth to pout, desperate to keep pulling those sounds out of him, but he stopped you.

"Up." He demanded quietly, helping you stand. When you got to your feet he kissed you hard.

"Shit, baby." He breathed a laugh. "I might have to get your number so I can try that mouth again."

Before you can answer, his lips are latched on to yours. His hands hurriedly work at your skirt, flipping it up and sliding your damp panties to the side. When he felt you, he paused to look down and god if you could have frozen time, you would have. His eyes darkened significantly as he brought his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean.

"Mmm." Coriolanus hummed. "You're ready to go."

You nodded, looking down as his hand wrapped around his cock again.

"Please?" You whispered. The desperation in your voice betrayed your cool exterior.

"Good manners, good girl." He smirked, lining himself up. "You gonna take it for me? Hmm?"

His question was more of a taunt as he pressed into you. He lifted your leg as your head lolled back against the brick wall. Your hand clung to his back through his shirt, feeling the muscles rippling beneath your skin. He gave you no time to adjust as he started a quick pace inside you, dragging against all the right places. The stretch of him was just the right amount of sting and sweetness.

You were a little embarrassed at the sounds fleeing your mouth. He let you moan freely for a bet before pausing.

"You have to be a good girl and be quiet for me." He laughed, kissing your neck. "Take it like a quiet girl, baby."

Coriolanus resumed his movements after giving you the order. You tried to stifle the sounds, but his tip was kissing the parts inside of you that made your head spin and your knees weak. The next time you whimpered just a little too loud between labored breaths, he put his large hand over your mouth.

"Shhh, baby. I know." He cooed, pounding into you a little rougher as if to test your quickly dissipating self-control. "You're so perfect for me." He praised. "Hugging my cock so good, baby. So warm."

As Coriolanus rambled against your neck, you felt the knot in your stomach building. You clawed desperately at his shirt and tried to stifle accidental sounds against his shoulder. The scratch of the cold brick against your back seemed like a vague background sensation and you felt yourself drifting further away. The leg you were standing on began to tremble as you whispered desperately “Coryo!” and try to stay up.

“Getting wobbly, pretty?” He looked at you and wrapped his free hand around your throat. He didn’t let up his brutal pace as he shushed you again.

“Feels so good, shit-” Coriolanus groaned loudly. “You’ve never been treated like this before hm?” He kissed you softly, a contrast to his rough movements.

You couldn’t respond. Part of this was due to the intense feeling of him pounding into you like a teenager afraid to get caught, but it was mainly due to your rapidly approaching orgasm. You silky, wet walls gave him a warning squeeze, causing him to falter momentarily.

“You close, pretty?” Coriolanus panted. You nodded.

“Yeah, huh?” He cooed almost condescendingly before lowering his lips to your ear. “I’m gonna fill this perfect cunt up and you’re gonna let me.”

With that, you became consumed with a white hot disorientation. You felt everything and nothing at the same time as you mewled against his shoulder. Coriolanus squeezed your thigh, whimpering as he pressed himself to the deepest part of you, making good on his promise moments before.

You continued holding onto his broad shoulders for support as you caught your breath. Coriolanus dropped your leg and gave you a quick kiss before tucking himself away and zipping his pants.

“Can you walk?” He wondered, biting back a laugh.

“Honestly?” You huffed, smiling. “That’s anyone’s guess.”

He unceremoniously offered you his hand as you finished readjusting yourself.

“Still don’t wanna give me your number?” He joked quietly against your ear.

You laughed as the two of you made your way back to the bar. Your friends and his friends were engaged in a heated game of darts, laughing and drinking together.

“It’s probably best that I don’t.” You replied sarcastically, earning a chuckle from him. As you gripped his bicep for balance, you thanked whatever higher power that he was so much bigger than you.

“Damn.” He cursed, smiling toothily. “Well, if next time you’re here, say in two weeks, and you need a little relief…”

You blushed and looked back to your friends.

“Nice try. One night only, remember?” You smiled back.

But it wasn’t one night only, because after you got all your stumbling friends into your empty dorm room and settled down for the night, you opened up your Tinder only to see his face as the first one upon opening the app. You decided, maybe not in your right mind, that it was fate and swiped right on your new favorite serviceman.

[openphrase123]

anyway. weird little bonnie whatever below the readmore it just kind of leapt out of me. just writing down my own little analysis of boniface instarsandtime

you're twelve. you live with your sister. you pick up on things because adults will gab and talk for days near you because they think you're too young to understand. your sister took you away from your parents for good reasons. but what do you know, you were a toddler when that happened

you're twelve. you've probably read a hundred stories written by adults about a plucky kid without parents that goes to save the world. and that sounds super awesome but of course that will never happen to you.

you're twelve. the world is ending. your sister tells you to run, and you do. and then you almost starve and pass out in the wilderness.

you're twelve. you're nursed back to health by literal actual storybook heroes. and the world is ending but this time you're in the pathway to help save it. you can help your sister, you can help your town, you can help these cool adults that love you now.

you're twelve. they don't let you help them.

you're twelve. one of them loses an eye trying to save you and they don't even seem to care about that.

you're twelve. you're on the cusp of being a person with their own opinions that aren't just what adults tell you. you're old enough to cook, you're old enough to swear, and you're old enough to fight even if nobody else thinks that. you don't know why adults care about some things and not about other things and you're worried that one day, you'll be an adult, and you'll be stupid like one too.

and then, the day before the adults are supposed to save the world, you realize they're all talking like they're not going to be able to do it. everyone acts like this is their last day on earth. and maybe if they had a little more help, something else, they could do it. but you're on snacks duty. and all the adults talk about when they think you're out of earshot is the worst case scenario. but they still won't let you help.

you're twelve. it's the end of the world. and you're in the right place to save it, but nobody will let you.

you're twelve, and all of these adults are looking at you as if you'll never be thirteen.

[scientia-rex]

Wound Care

Ok so, take this with a BIG grain of salt, because I may be a medical doctor BUT you need to know how much wound care training we get in medical school: none. Zip. Zilch. There may be medical schools where you do, but mine wasn't a bozo factory and there was NO wound care training. Everything I know I learned from one of several sources: an intensive 2-day wound care course I did in residency (highly recommend), the local Home Health wound care nurse (highly recommend), a completely batshit insane old white male doctor who started our learning sessions by yelling Vietnam War stories at me (do not recommend), a hospital wound care nurse (highly recommend), and experience (oh god do not recommend).

The first thing you need to know is that wound healing varies dramatically across the course of a lifespan. Kids? Kids will heal. If they don't, get their ass to a pediatrician because there's something genetic going on. Young adults will heal. Middle-aged adults will heal. You know who doesn't heal for shit? The elderly, and people with severe illnesses, and people with uncontrolled type II diabetes.

Your body needs several things in order to heal. It needs macronutrients, so you need to be able to EAT protein, fat, and carbs. If you are on total parenteral nutrition, aka TPN, aka IV nutrition, you are going to be worse at healing. If you are starving yourself, you are going to be worse at healing. If your body is desperately funneling all the calories you take in to surviving your COPD or cancer, you are going to be worse at healing.

It also needs micronutrients. If your diet sucks, you won't heal. Take a multivitamin once in a while.

There are two CRITICAL skin components to healing: collagen and elastin. Guess what we stop making as we age. Promoting collagen isn't just good for "anti-aging," it's good for NOT ripping your skin apart. Taking oral collagen is probably bullshit because your body is going to have to disassemble it to get it across the intestinal membranes to absorb, but it's also harmless, and if your diet REALLY sucks, who knows. Give it a try. Collagen is made of amino acids; think protein.

Another absolutely crucial component is blood flow. As people age, they start to develop cholesterol plaques lining arteries that eventually pick up calcium deposits. This makes blood vessels less elastic, which is a problem, but eventually also blocks them off, which is a much bigger problem. If someone has the major blood flow to their feet decreased by 90% by arterial stenosis, they are not going to heal for shit AND their foot's gonna hurt.

One component of blood flow I hadn't thought about before going into medicine is fluid retention. The way your body works, blood exits the heart at a very high velocity, but slows to a crawl by the time it gets into capillaries, the smallest blood vessels in the body. Water is a very small molecule and can leave the blood vessel, especially if there aren't big, negatively-charged molecules like proteins like albumin in the blood vessels to hold the water there. And we're built for this--some water is supposed to leak out of our blood vessels when it gets to real little vessels. It gets taken back up by the lymphatic system and eventually dumped back into the bloodstream at the inferior vena cava. But if you aren't making albumin--for instance, in liver failure--you may leak a LOT of fluid into the tissue, so much that your legs get swollen, tight, the skin feeling woody and strange. This isn't fixable by drainage because the fluid is everywhere, not in a single pocket we can drain. And because it puts so much pressure on the tissues of the skin, it often results in ulcers. Congestive heart failure, liver failure, kidney failure--these are all common causes of severe edema, aka swelling due to fluid in the tissues. And they're a real bitch when it comes to wound care, because we have such limited resources for getting the fluid back out, which is a necessary first step to healing.

Pressure is another common cause of wounds. Pressure forces blood out of those little capillaries, so you starve the cells normally fed by those capillaries, and they die. It's called pressure necrosis. Very sick people who can't turn themselves over--people in the ICU, people in nursing homes--are especially prone to these wounds, as are people with limited sensation; pressure wounds are common in wheelchair users who have lost some feeling in the parts of their bodies that rub against those surfaces, or diabetics who don't notice a rock in their shoe.

So, if you're trying to treat wounds, the questions to ask are these:

Why did this wound happen?

-Was it pressure? If it's pressure, you have to offload the source of the pressure or else that wound will not heal. End of story. You can put the tears of a unicorn on that thing, if you don't offload the pressure it won't heal.

-Was it fluid? If it's fluid, you have get the fluid out of the issues or else it won't heal. You can sometimes do that with diuretics, medications that cause the body to dump water through the kidneys, but that's always threading a needle because you have to get someone to a state where they still have juuuuust enough fluid inside their blood vessels to keep their organs happy, while maintaining a very slight state of dehydration so the blood vessels suck water back in from the tissues. You can use compression stockings to squeeze fluid back into the vessels, but if they have arterial insufficiency and not just venous insufficiency, you can accidentally then cause pressure injury. The safest option is using gravity: prop the feet up above the level of the heart, wherever the heart is at, at that moment, and gravity will pull fluid back down out of the legs. Super boring though. Patients hate it. Not as much as they hate compression stockings.

-Was it a skin tear because the skin is very fragile? This is extremely common in the elderly, because they're not making collagen and elastin, necessary to repairing skin. If this is the case, make sure they're actually getting enough nutrition--as people get into their 80s and 90s, their appetites often change and diminish, especially if they're struggling with dementia. And think about just wrapping them in bubble wrap. Remove things with sharp edges from their environments. I have seen the WORST skin tears from solid wood or metal furniture with sharp edges. Get rid of throw rugs and other tripping hazards. I had somebody last week who tried to a clear a baby gate and damn near destroyed their artificial hip.

The next critical question: why isn't it healing?

-Are you getting enough nutrients? Both macro and micro?

-Are you elderly?

-Are you ill?

-Do you have a genetic disorder of collagen formation?

Fix why it's not healing and almost anything will heal. If you're diabetic, find a medication regimen that improves your sugars and stick to it. If you're anorexic, get treatment for your eating disorder. If you have congestive heart failure, work with your doctor on your fluid balance. Wear the damn pressure stockings. Prop up your feet.

If, after those two unskippable questions are done, you want to do something to the wound--apply a dressing, do a treatment--that's a whole other kettle of fish. I'll write that later. The dryer just sang me its little song and I need to put away the laundry.

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

These fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon complaints.

For reference, anything in italics is taken from the summaries on ao3.

Gilded by @charmingwillow

Beneath her jumper, her heart was fluttering fast. Her free hand rubbed at the spot, willing it to calm. Her eyes ached from all the nights she spent awake, unable to sleep because it hadn’t calmed in days. Weeks.

She knew why; beneath her fingertips, under the soft cotton of her sweater, her skin tingled. She knew without seeing that the spot above her heart sparkled faintly with gold, like stars spinning in the cosmos. Scattered and dancing around a name that wouldn't quite focus. It was as beautiful as it was terrifying.

Someone, somewhere, was falling in love with her. They were close enough that Lily could feel a tug of alignment if she concentrated enough.

Or, Lily and James go on a walk in the forest.

Sunshine in My Eyes (requires an ao3 account) by monroeslittle

Mr. and Mrs. Evans are killed when Lily's only a girl, and she's supposed to go to a home with her sister. Instead, a relative they didn't know they had comes to collect them, and introduces Lily to manners, magic, and a life that's just the slightest bit different from the life she was supposed to live.

Or, an AU in which Minerva McGonagall raises Lily.

Dying Fires by @jamesunderwater

In fifth year, James attempts to comfort Lily by a dying fire - but finds this will require restraint on his part in a number of ways.

Their tentative, developing friendship is something so special to me

basic maths by @gigglesandfreckles-hp

Euphemia cuts Sirius off sharply. “I was simply verifying whether this is indeed the same Lily Evans whose name is written under my dining room table with a heart around it.”

or Lily meets the parents and James tries not to hyperventilate. over and over and over again.

Blue Jay by @neurowriter14

In a world with magic, the only thing that really took Lily by surprise, and trepidation, was the fact that she had a soulmate.

All That's Known by @women-inthe-sequel

Wizards view nearly everything as a problem for magic to fix. Other people might view him that way, but James has never felt broken. He doesn’t need to be wound like an old-fashion toy and programmed to do what everyone else does.

I am in desperate need of more deaf!James (or deaf!Lily). Please can someone recommend me fics

just like a tattoo by sleepygirl0305 (on ao3)

Shortly after he witnesses Remus and Sirius realize that they're soulmates, James gets his own soulmate tattoo. A fairly inconvenient time, given that there is a war going on. And N.E.W.Ts. But no matter, he was going to try anyway.

A Happy Thought by @thelighthousestale

The 7th year Defense Against the Dark Arts Class learns the Patronus Charm.

James is shocked to learn what Lily's Patronus is.

I know that this is a very cliché trope but I'm a sucker for patronus fics.

The Boy (in the bedroom) Next Door by @eastwindmlk

Lily Evans has to move in with her new potion's teacher to finish her apprenticeship. There is one small issue, said teacher? Fleamont Potter, father of infinitely annoying and frustratingly fit former rival James Potter. Who she has not seen after leaving Hogwarts after her third year.

Put on Bed Rest also by @/ eastwindmlk

Hogwarts is covered in snow and James Potter is sick. Who better than Lily to nurse him back to health.

May Moon by Elynn (on ao3)

May Moon- also known as the Flower Moon or Blooming Moon, due to the abundance of flowers that occur as spring arrives.

She glanced up, catching sight of Mary and Marlene in the crowd of unsorted first years, the both of them bouncing on their toes as a new student was called up. She’d already made two friends (she hoped) and Lily was always a bit of an overachiever. “Hiya,” she said, doing her best to sound upbeat. The boy—Lupin—looked up at her, face a bit shocked. “I’m Lily.”

or sixth year, a bad pick-up line, and a secret.

Not really a jily fic (it's pre-relationship) but I really wanted to include it in this rec list

Accidental Magic by @missgryffin

What else is there to do after confessing feelings in the middle of the night than spend a lazy Saturday in bed?

Hell Is Empty (And All The Devils Are Here) by @nodirectionhome-ao3

When an Order mission takes an unexpected turn, James and Lily find themselves stranded together. In the aftermath of the chaos, sheltering together through the storm, a fire catches between them.

Ignore the fact that I can't remember if I've recommended this fic or not. Regardless, the back-and-forth between James and Lily is so good in this fic.

Starlight by @suzyq31

Under the cover of stars, Lily and James go out in search of an elusive flower. The northern lights make Lily contemplate how plans change.

The next few fics are all by @apalapucian because I may or may not have been stalking her ao3 page. Everything, and I mean everything, Jayne writes is incredible.

maybe it was egos swinging (maybe it was her)

James starts rolling his shoulders, wincing. "Jesus, Evans." "back at ya," says Lily, testing her wrists. "ever heard of taking it easy?" "with you? never." "can’t believe you’d use confringo on me." "knew you'd block it," he says. "can’t believe you’d use depulso." she shrugs, grinning. "knew you'd block it."

(or: seventh-year, auror-aspirant, academic rivals, head boy and head girl James and Lily.)

I still can't get over the fact that Jayne wrote me over 11 thousand words of academic rivals jily. ELEVEN THOUSAND WORDS OF ACADEMIC RIVALS TO LOVERS JILY!! The banter, the stakes, I love everything about this fic

calliope calling

in which:

James wields a wand for the first time; Lily giggles, tracing an impossible dancing deer in the sky; Sirius slams the door; Peter sighs; and Remus screams, raw and screeching and piercingly young.

(or: the marauders and lily evans as children, and something about invisible strings glinting in the moonlight.)

green light

There are yellow roses on the kitchen table. a cup of coffee charmed to keep warm for a time. a scrawled "morning! :) –James & Harry" on a scrap of paper, the torn bottom of a receipt for... milk, she finds. and strawberries. harry was signed by Harry himself, and Lily wants to cry at the shaky strokes, the crooked lines. she can hear them in the other room where James' window seat project is almost finished. harry is laughing. he asks questions, mocks his dad's shabby handiwork, drops the things he's asked to hand.

roses and handwritten notes and coffee and giggles nearby. this is her life now. she skims the flowers, the sun itself in her heart.

or: the war is over. everybody lives AU. (well, not everybody everybody, but the potter family + sirius + remus + even peter* live.) old fic rewrite.

* = you'll see.

bad day wall

Lily calls it the bad day wall. it's like this weird communal one-liner diary thing.

every time i think i'm over her something happens and it hits me just as stupidly intense as all the other times. i'm SICK of it

why can't people just LIKE by default the people they LOVE? why do they have to be separate feelings? it would make things so much less complicated

or: in sixth year, Lily starts talking to a stranger(?) through messages on a wall. she also befriends James Potter. These two things are completely not related.

I haven't read this one but it on my marked for later

[bubblegumgothglados]

The open door was a test, one you failed miserably by the way. But now you're out, you've escaped, congratulations. You're back in your apartment, back at your job, back with your friends.

Except

You're only keeping your apartment clean because your friends are helping you, you just don't have much energy any more. You got your job back because your boss pitied you, but you're not keeping up, he and you both know under normal circumstances he would have fired you by now. And your friends? They're trying, but you can't go out because you see my face around every corner and loud noises make you panic.

How much longer until the pity evaporates like so much mist in mid morning sun. How long until your boss gets sick of covering for you and fires you. How long until your friends stop cleaning your house, until "you poor thing" becomes "when are you gonna get over it". How long until you're jobless, homeless, friendless.

And then what

I'm not saying life with me was good, far from it. I tortured you mercilessly in any number of horrifying ways. I raped you and beat you. I starved you. You're missing a few toes from that time I gave you hypothermia and a few of your fingernails may never grow back nicely.

And I'm not saying I'll suddenly be nice when you come back. I'll still torture you, probably worse than before because I have to discipline you for running away.

But wasn't it nice to be treasured? After every horrific torture didn't I lovingly nurse you back to health? Wasn't it nice to be the object of someone's undivided attention? Your entire world was built just for you and you were the most important thing in that world. Don't you miss that?

And who would love you now? You flinch away from every touch, you scream out in your sleep, your face is disfigured from those scars I gave you. Me. That's who would love you now.

And, you know it, I know you know it. Why else would you lie to the police. I wouldn't have been caught, I'm too careful. But I would have had to run and then you wouldn't have known where to find me. No, you kept that option available on purpose.

The door you walked out of is still open sweetheart, walk back in whenever you're ready to give up.