#tis been a while innit

[kaveehs]

blade with a shy, timid, s/o that’s all his to mess with (lovingly ofc). like he’s so aware of how you hang off of every little word he says and how you hold him closer in public places and he just reels at that fact in his head >>>>>>>

[khorazir]

“Do you think I should release them? The danger has passed, and they have been tied up like this for over an hour now.”

“Oh, I don’t know, mate. They’ve stopped arguing a while ago, and now they’re just staring at each other. Give them another half an hour, and they’ll start kissing.”

“Kissing?”

“Sure. Look at them. Totally gone for one another, but too stupid or set in their ways to realise it. Guess they’re gonna need all the help they can get. Unlike us.”

“Unlike us?”

“Yeah. Took you a trip to America to figure things out, and me a couple of months after that.”

“After about thirty-five years of quasi courtship, you mean?”

“Yeah. Brills, innit?”

***

“Sherlock, are they still there?”

“Yes, and not even trying to hide. They probably think we can’t see them.”

“I’m still somewhat shocked that we can. But then, given that we’ve both had near-death experiences at some point in our lives ... Anyway, anything you can do about this ... thing tying us together?”

“As I’ve told you before, John, no, I can’t. It’s clearly magical, a binding spell of some sort.”

“There must be a way to break it.”

“Aren’t you happy that we’re returned to our traditional way to spend Christmas Eve?”

“What ‘traditional way’? Being tied up together in some God-forsaken place?”

“Exactly. Wouldn’t be Christmas without it, would it now?”

“Haha, yes, guess not. And those two chaps over there are ... what? The ghosts of Christmas Past and ... Christmas Even Longer Past come to haunt us?”

“Perhaps. We could ask them to undo the spell. I’m rather convinced it was cast by the Edwardian schoolboy.”

“Oh, right. Actually ... you know what, Sherlock?”

“Hm?”

“We also could ... you know ... wait a little. Because it’s tradition.”

“I was hoping you would say that, John.”

_____

This is for @paynelandpromptfest Day 1

It’s also this year’s Christmas Card. Those who have been following me for a while know the drill: if you would like to be sent one, please DM me and do a little charitable thing in and for your community. Previous card motifs (and accompanying ficlets) can be found here:

1. Fairylights (2019, ficlet)

2. Reindeers (2020, ficlet)

3. Spice (2021, ficlet)

4. Bridge (2022, ficlet)

5. Cold (2023, ficlet)

[diejager]

I HAVE A (kinda) stepdad!König+DBF!Horangi

so it was a while ago but I reealllyyyy liked the one u did where reader’s sort of hooking up w/ soap and ghost on the side?? If u remember that

I was wondering if you could do a story where they’re sort of just hooking up occasionally (as often as reader can get away) but clearly both the boy like them and want to further it but she’s worried about König and Horangi finding out.

pretty much they notice her exhibiting really weird behaviors in and out of bed towards them?? She’ll freak out if they approach her a specific way (not knowing König and Horangi take advantage of her that way) or sort of doesn’t rly care about her own pleasure cuz she’s sacrificing it for theirs…just sort of stuff that makes Soap and Ghost go “uhhh 🧍🧍‍♂️that’s kinda weird innit” (they’re presenting traits of being groomed/manipulated/raped/etc)

anyways somehow Soap and Ghost find out ab what’s going on at home and….yeah they’re not happy 😬😬

Thank you for your consideration!!!

— 🌘 !

Cw: DARKFIC, STEPCEST, DUB-CON/NON-CON, implied smut, abuse, implied kidnapping, possessive behaviour, implied one night stand, implied crush, kinda poly, tell if I missed any.

They weren’t saints. If anything, they were the farthest thing possible from good-natured men, with kind hearts and sound morals. Ghost and Soap were sick men, soaked in bloodshed and tragedy, gunpowder and tears, they weren’t good men, they were simply men doing another’s dirty work to keep the world safer. They’d seen their fair share of filth on this earth, the most depraved and savage monsters that found pleasure in plundering and killing, covert crimes done under the nose of most civilians, and hushed exchanges for prizes. They, themselves, have committed unforgettable and unforgivable acts, torture, murders, arson, and so, so much regrettable things that would forever scar their victims.

But this- your situation was gut-wrenching, in a way that twisted their guts and made their throats tight, deathly silent in the brewing rage. From Simon, who had an abusive up-bringing and torturous life, morals and ethics twisted beyond normalcy and comprehension; to Johnny, who’s busybody life turned darker and darker with every life he’s taken, bodies piling over bodies, a permanent reminder that he wasn’t the same bright-eyed and goodwilling saint he was when he first enlisted. 

They were mad: Simon enraptured in wrath, burning hotter than hell’s fire, whose rage rivaled one of God; and Johnny bubbled with rage, running through his veins like rivers of magma, scorching everything on his path to ash and rock. They were enraged to see the way you were used and forced into a new purpose by older men —much, much older men that they knew. Whereas Simon seethed silently, Johnny screeched loudly, words stumbling in a crazed frenzy.

It just- it simply wasn’t a good-natured frenzy. Ghost and Soap were not good men. It stemmed from jealousy and emotional possession. The many dates that you’d suddenly canceled, calling in a rain check that they had listened, were because you’d been fucked numb, legs too weak to walk or support you, tied to your bed or filled with another man’s cum. How rarely they met you outside of simple bar nights with your girlfriends before you’d hookup with them for the night until you had to leave. Or your reoccurring bruises, hidden under the clear lie of being clumsy, a white lie, truly, but a lie nonetheless and they hated liars. 

And the worse thing, the one that hits the most, was that you were being fucked, and abused, and taken advantage of by men they constantly butted heads with. Once enemies, always enemies. They didn’t forgive or forget in their business, and their rivalry would continue until one or the other had died. Ghost would plan, scheme your taking and Soap would take care of you, a man much softer than his rough hide. Soap would gently introduce you into your new life, and if it does work, then Ghost would have to step in, eyes dark and heart frozen over. 

You’d eventually like living with them. At least you liked them.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @lucienbarkbark @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @223princess @maylovesyousomuch @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami

[biblical-chronicles]

Fan-service

______________________________________________________

where Noel is so starstruck by the reader, that he can't even let a word out, especially as she presses against him to finally nail a riff that has been stuck in her head.

______________________________________________________

Oasis had been locked in the studio all week, grinding through new material. The days were dragging, and while Noel Gallagher could usually power through long sessions with determination, something had been throwing him off his rhythm lately. He sat hunched over his guitar, strumming idly while scribbling down half-finished lyrics, though his mind clearly wasn’t on the task at hand.

Across the room, Liam leaned casually against the wall, cigarette in hand, watching his older brother with a sly grin. “You’ve been well quiet lately,” Liam started, his voice cutting through the low hum of the amps. “Bit out of character, innit? Normally, you’re banging on about summat well boring by now.”

Noel shot him a look but didn’t reply, his focus stubbornly staying on his guitar.

“Oh, I get it now.” Liam smirked, dragging on his cigarette. “You’re thinkin’ about her, ain’t ya?”

At this, Noel’s fingers faltered on the strings. He didn’t say a word, but the slight stiffening of his shoulders was all Liam needed.

“Bloody hell, this is gold!” Liam’s laugh echoed through the room, and he gestured at Noel with his cigarette. “Our kid’s gone soft over that singer. What’s her name again? That band you’re always harping on about like some lovesick twat?”

“Shut it, Liam,” Noel snapped, his voice sharp but tinged with embarrassment.

“You’re always goin’ on about how talented she is, how her voice is, what’d you say, proper angelic?” Liam snorted, clearly enjoying himself. “It’s tragic, mate. Well tragic.”

“I’m not having this conversation,” Noel muttered, shaking his head as if it could physically remove the topic from existence.

“Well, you better sort it out, ‘cause they’re booked in the next studio soon, yeah?” Liam’s grin widened as he pointed out what Noel had been dreading. “She’s gonna be right down the hall. What’re you gonna do then, eh? Gonna spend the next few weeks hiding in the bogs every time she walks by?”

“Why don’t you do one and focus on something useful for once?” Noel barked, clearly over it.

“ooh touchy touchy aren't we, alright” said Liam holding up his hands in mock surrender, though the grin never left his face. “Just don’t come crying to me when she don’t even know you exist, mate.” He gave Noel one last pointed look before wandering off, still chuckling to himself.

A week later, the studio was buzzin with sound as your band arrived to record your new album. You’d barely had time to catch your breath with how fast things had been moving lately—gigs, interviews, and now this—but it was all part of the ride.

The first few days in the studio were a mix of excitement and frustration as you worked to fine-tune the tracks. Things were going well, but one song in particular was giving you trouble. The chorus needed something—a riff, a hook—but no matter how hard you and your band tried, nothing seemed to fit.

After hours of tinkering with no breakthrough, you decided to call it a night. “You lot head off,” you told your bandmates as they packed up their gear. “I’ll grab a bite and lock up.”

They nodded, wishing you goodnight as they headed out. Left alone, you wandered into the small kitchen area of the building, rummaging through the sparse offerings until you settled on a rather sad-looking snack. You leaned against the counter, chewing absentmindedly, humming away, when the melody suddenly hit you.

It was perfect. It tied the whole chorus together in your head, and you immediately knew that you couldn’t risk losing it. Tossing the wrapper in the bin, you rushed back down the corridor towards the studio room, humming the notes under your breath so you wouldn’t forget.

Reaching the door, you realized with a groan that it was locked. “Fuck,” you muttered, tugging at the handle uselessly. Of course your bandmates locked the room up on their way out.

You stood there for a moment, wracking your brain for a solution. That’s when you heard it—a faint melody drifting down the hall.

Following the sound, you found yourself in front of a door with “Oasis” scrawled on the sign. For a brief moment, nerves fluttered in your stomach. You’d heard the stories, seen the interviews - the Gallagher brothers weren’t exactly known for being approachable. But the riff was all you could think about, and with no time to hesitate, you pushed the door open.

Inside, the band had just finished playing a song, the final notes still humming in the air. Four pairs of eyes turned to you as you stepped in, looking a bit out of place but determined nonetheless.

“Hi,” you said, trying to sound casual despite the sudden silence. “Sorry to interrupt, but, uh... would you mind if I borrowed a guitar for a sec? I’ve got this riff stuck in me head, and I need to get it down before I forget.”

Nobody said a word, the room was eerily quiet, the only sound being the faint hum of their amps. You shifted awkwardly, wondering if you’d made a mistake.

“Everyone alright? Or did I walk in at a bad time?” you joked, laughing nervously.

Finally, Liam broke the silence, a grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, yeah, it’s all good. I’m sure Noel won’t mind you borrowing his gear. He’s a big fan.” He turned to his brother and not-so-subtly jabbed him in the ribs.

Noel, however, looked like he might spontaneously combust at any moment now. His face turned a deep shade of red as he opened his mouth to respond but found no words. Instead, he just sat there, gripping his guitar like it was the only thing tethering him to reality.

The sight sent Liam into a small fit of laughter, and it wasn’t long before the rest of the band joined in. You stood there, thoroughly confused but trying not to let it show.

“Right,” you said slowly, glancing at Liam, who was practically doubled over, already in the process of nudging Noel again. “Well, maybe don’t knock your guitarist out while you’re at it. He’s important to the band, isn’t he? And, he's kinda cute too, would be a shame to lose him.”

That only made things worse. Noel somehow managed to turn an even darker shade of red, his face now matching the hue of his knit. Liam was in hysterics at this point, the rest of the band not being far behind.

You glanced at Noel again, noticing the wide-eyed, slightly panicked expression that hadn’t left his face. His grip on the guitar seemed to tighten, and his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite manage it.

“Okay,” you said, trying to suppress a smile as you addressed the room. “He might be broken or summat, but listen, I really need to get this riff out before it slips away from me.”

Before anyone could respond, you walked over to Noel and, without much thought, slid your arms around him to reach the guitar. He froze completely, every muscle in his body going stiff as you gently moved his hands to make room for yours on the neck of the instrument.

“Right, let’s see if this works,” you muttered, focused on the notes in your head. You began plucking at the strings, slowly piecing together the melody as Noel sat motionless beneath you. Your body pressed lightly against his as you leaned over him to reach the frets, completely oblivious to the utter chaos you were causing in his head.

Behind you, Liam’s laughter hit a new level. “You seeing this?” he wheezed, looking around at the rest of the band, who were also struggling to keep their composure. “Our Noel! He’s gone, mate. Completely gone.”

The room erupted into more laughter, but you couldn't hear it, too focused on the riff. Yet, you could feel Noel shifting slightly under you, as if he were trying to sink into the floor.

Finally, you played the last few notes, the riff clicking perfectly into place. “That’s it,” you said, grinning as you let the final chord ring out. “Bloody hell, I’m glad I got that down.”

You leaned closer to Noel’s ear, whispering a quick, “Thanks for this. You’re a lifesaver.”

It wasn’t until you pulled back that you noticed just how red Noel’s face was. His skin was practically glowing, and his eyes had this dazed, glassy look as he stared blankly ahead. You couldn’t help but smile, the pieces finally starting to click into place.

“Well, I should probably head off now,” you said, stepping back from Noel and addressing the room. “Thanks for letting me steal your guitarist for a bit. I really appreciate it—and I’d love to hang out properly sometime with you lot. We’ll all be stuck here for weeks, yeah?”

The rest of the band nodded, offering their goodbyes and complimenting your career so far.

As you stepped out into the hallway, shutting the door behind you, you could still hear the faint sound of Liam cackling. You shook your head, chuckling to yourself as you started walking toward the main exit.

You didn’t get far before the door burst open behind you.

“Noel wants a private meet-and-greet!” Liam’s voice rang out, his laughter following soon after as he all but dragged his older brother into the hallway by the ear.

You turned to find Noel half-protesting, his mouth opening and closing like he couldn’t quite decide what to say. Liam, on the other hand, was clearly having the time of his life, practically bouncing on his feet with glee.

“Well?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you crossed your arms. “Is that true, Noel?”

Noel opened his mouth, presumably to deny everything, but Liam cut in before he could speak. “Go on, mate. Tell her how you feel. Or d’you need me to spell it out for ya?”

“Piss off, Liam,” Noel grumbled, his voice finally returning, though his usual confidence was still nowhere to be found.

“Nah, I’ll leave you to it,” Liam said, grinning as he turned back toward the studio. “But don’t think I won’t come back if you bottle it.” With that, he disappeared back inside, leaving you and Noel alone in the hallway.

You tilted your head, studying Noel with an amused expression. “Alright, what’s this all about, then? What’s he on about?”

Noel rubbed the back of his neck, looking everywhere but at you. “It’s... it’s nothin’. He’s just taking the piss, per usual.”

“Didn’t seem like nothin’ to me,” you said, stepping closer. “Come on, Noel. Spit it out. I won’t leave you alone until you tell me what’s going on.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. Look... I’m a big fan of yours, alright? I think you’re brilliant—your voice, your songwriting, the lot of it. And, uh... maybe I fancy you a little, or whatever.”

You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest at his words. “Is that so? Well, I’m flattered, really.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, looking down at his shoes. “It’s probably weird, me sayin’ all this.”

“Not weird at all,” you assured him, pulling him into a hug. “And for the record, I’d love to go out with you sometime.”

His head shot up, his eyes wide with surprise. “You serious?”

“Dead serious,” you said with a grin, though you couldn’t resist teasing him a little. “Though I can’t promise I won’t tell everyone about how red your face went earlier.”

“Not funny,” he muttered, though the smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. His skin burned under your lips, and when you pulled back, you noticed how dazed he looked. Something about the moment felt too perfect to pass up, so you decided to close the gap again—this time pressing your lips fully to his.

Noel stiffened for just a moment before melting into the kiss, his hands slipping to your waist, tugging you firmly against him. The heat between you was immediate, as your fingers brushed along his jawline, tracing the scruff there before burying themselves in his hair. When you tugged gently, a low groan escaped him, his breath hitching audibly as he deepened the kiss, his grip on your hips tightening possessively.

His hands grew bolder, one sliding down to the curve of your hip while the other trailed up the small of your back, his fingers skimming the fabric as if itching to touch bare skin. The pressure of his hold sent a shiver through you, and you pressed yourself closer, your body molding against his in a way that left no space between you.

The kiss turned hungrier, his lips moving against yours with a fervor that sent sparks racing down your spine. His hands weren’t still for a moment, one sliding just beneath the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare lower back, the other venturing up your side, his thumb grazing tantalizingly close to your bra clasp.

With a subtle shift, Noel pressed you gently but firmly against the wall, his body following to keep you pinned there. You felt his fingers grip your shirt, bunching the fabric like he needed something to ground him, though the way his lips never left yours suggested he was perfectly content losing himself entirely. Your hands roamed freely now—one still tugging at his hair while the other drifted down to the broad expanse of his chest.

Then, as though driven by instinct, he hooked one of your legs around his hip, his hand sliding down to your thigh to hold it in place. The new position pressed you even closer together, your body arching into his as his lips never left yours.

You gasped into his mouth, your hands tightening in his hair and pulling him even deeper into the kiss. His grip on your thigh was firm, his fingers digging in slightly as though to steady both of you. His lips trailed to your jaw, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed a line down to your neck, his teeth grazing ever so slightly.

"Christ," he muttered against your skin, his voice huskier than usual, his lips brushing your ear as he spoke. "You’re gonna be the death of me"

You grinned, breathless, your thumb tracing the outline of his cheek as you whispered back, "Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?"

Before either of you could take it further, a familiar voice rang out from the hallway.

"Oi! I see the meet-and-greet’s come with some extra fan service!"

You both froze. Noel’s head snapped up, his face going a deeper shade of red than you thought humanly possible. You turned toward the doorway to find Liam standing there, leaning casually against the frame with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face.

"Honestly, Noel," Liam continued, his voice dripping with mockery, "you’re supposed to ask for an autograph, not sexual favours."

Noel scrambled to put your leg down, his hands leaving you so fast it was almost comical, though he kept his body angled slightly in front of yours as if to shield you from Liam’s teasing.

"Fuck right off, Liam!" Noel barked, his voice sharp but his face still burning.

You couldn’t help but laugh, leaning around Noel to flash Liam a cheeky grin. "Well, it’s good to know you’re keeping an eye out for your brother."

"Oh, don’t worry, love," Liam said, crossing his arms. "I’ll keep this one on a leash from now on. Can’t have him getting any more ideas."

As Liam sauntered away, you turned back to Noel, biting your lip to stifle a laugh. "Well," you said softly, brushing a thumb along his jaw, "I guess we’ll definitely need to thank your brother for that."

Noel groaned, shaking his head, but the small grin tugging at his lips told you he wasn’t entirely upset.

______________________________________________________

@shes-thunderstormssss this request was so fucking biblical, I just have to tag you, you lot please thank this absolute legend for it. Hopefully it meets your expectations, I just thought it’d be well more fun if the whole band had a laugh and tortured Noel a bit, get him proper flustered x

I proper enjoyed writin’ this, probably more than I should’ve, was expecting to have it done by tomorrow afternoon but here ya go me biblical skill knows no boundaries. Feel free to bombard me inbox with new requests, or yer apple pie recipes I don't give a toss, just love interacting with you lot xx

[engie-ivy]

(Lyall Lupin being a Good Dad for his anxious son in law😁 For @wolfstarmicrofic)

9th: Cosy

1039 words

Lyall goes to use the toilet, and ends up adopting a new son.

Your New Family

“Really, Lyall?” Hope places her hands on her hips. “We just got here!”

“Sorry dear,” Lyall says cheerily. “But that’s the price you pay for becoming an old man, very frequent toilet breaks. Besides,” he adds. “With all your fretting about not being late, we’re like twenty minutes early, so now’s the perfect time.”

Hope rolls her eyes, a gesture Lyall is all too familiar with, and goes to inquire whether their table is already available, while Lyall strolls to the restrooms.

When he’s relieved himself and walks over to the sinks, there’s a boy pacing up and down. Well, maybe he’s more a young man, looking rather handsome with his fancy shoes, crisp white shirt, fitted suit jacket and long hair neatly tied into a pony tail, but to Lyall, he’s still a boy.

As Lyall is washing his hands, the boy leans on the sink next to him, staring at his reflection in the mirror, while taking what seem to be calming breaths.

Lyall meets the boy’s sharp grey eyes in the mirror. “Everything alright, lad?”

“Ah,” the boy says, looking slightly flustered. “Yes. Yes, I’m sorry, sir. Please, don’t mind me. I’m just...” He gestures vaguely with his hand. “Anxious, I guess.”

Lyall smiles at him as he turns off the tap. “On a big date?”

“No,” the boy says. “Not really. I mean, sort of, I guess.” The boy makes a move as if he wants to run his hand through his hair, showing that he’s not used to having it tied up. He settles for tugging at his pony tail. “I’m meeting my boyfriend’s parents for the first time. They’ll be here in...” He checks his watch. “Fifteen minutes. Fuck.” He presses his hand against his forehead. “Pardon my language,” he says after a quick glance at Lyall.

“Ah,” Lyall says, as something starts to dawn on him. “And you don’t think they’ll be... nice people?”

“They’re the best people!” The boy exclaims. “Going by what my boyfriend has been telling me at least, they’re really great.” He shakes his head. “But that’s just the fucking- I mean, that’s just the bloody problem, innit?”

Lyall tilts his head as he dries his hands with a paper towel. “How so?”

The boy shrugs. “My boyfriend comes from this warm and loving family, and he’s really close to his parents. It’s important to him that I get along with them.”

“Right.” Lyall nods in understanding. “And that of course puts a lot of pressure on you.”

The boy sighs. “I’m just scared I’ll fuck it- sorry, I’ll mess it up. I mean, what do I know about bonding with parents? I couldn’t even get my own bloody parents to even like me, and they’re supposed to have been programmed to love me!”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Lyall says sincerely.

“He’s envisioning this whole future, y’know?” The boy continues, now letting it all come out. “Coming together for birthdays, celebrating Christmases together, Sunday brunches at his parents’ place... He’s picturing this harmonious, cosy family, and I sure as hell can’t offer him that from my side, so if his parents don’t like me, I’ll take all of that away from him.”

Lyall looks at him sympathetically. “Sounds like it’s really important to you.”

The boy looks away. “I just don’t want to disappoint him,” he says softly. Then he lets out a humourless laugh. “God, I’m sorry. I swear I don’t normally trauma-dump on strangers in the restroom like this!”

“No, no,” Lyall says. “I asked, so don’t worry about it, lad. And the fact that You’re so anxious only means that this guy really means a lot to you.”

“He means everything to me,” the boy says without a moment of hesitation. He smiles to himself. “I can’t even explain. I mean... if I can’t give him everything, if he can find someone who can, who will make him happier, then I want him to break up with me, y’know? Even if it’ll completely destroy me. It’s like.... nothing matters besides his happiness.” He shakes his head. “I’m probably not making much sense. I’ve honestly never felt like this before.”

Lyall feels a warmth somewhere in his chest. “You know, lad, all a parent want is for their child to be happy...”

“But I don’t know that,” the boy interrupts, before adding quietly “Mine sure never did...”

Lyall feels a surge of fatherly protectiveness wash over him, for a boy he only just met! “I’m sorry you had that experience,” he says, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “But take it from me, if they are indeed the good people your boyfriend has made them out to be, then that will be the only thing that matters,” he says firmly. “So if you love your guy-”

“I do,” the boy immediately says. “I love him so, so much.”

Lyall regards him fondly, gently squeezing his shoulder. “Then trust me, that will be enough for them. It won’t matter if you’re wearing a fancy jacket, or if you’re hair is neatly tied up, or if you let slip the occasional curse word. If he loves you and you love him, and you make him happy, then that is going to be more than enough.”

The boy gives him a grateful look. “Well, then I have nothing to worry about,” he then says with a grin. “Loving him is actually my specialty!”

Lyall lets out a laugh. “Sounds like you’re going to be just fine!”

Suddenly, the boy gives him a hug. Lyall is startled for a moment, but then easily hugs him back.

“Thank you,” the boy says, pulling away. “I’m sure this isn’t what you were expecting when you just wanted to use the toilet, but I appreciate it.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lyall says. “And I’m sure your new family will grow to love you.”

The boy grins at him. “Alright, here I go. Wish me luck!”

“You don’t need it, lad.”

The boy chuckles. “If Remus’ dad is even slightly like you, I’m sure I’ll be fine!” And then he dashes out of the restroom.

Lyall looks in the mirror and smiles to himself. “I’ve got a sense that he will be.”

Now with a part 2!

Part 2: Your New Son

[bhosadverse]

I think I like you (I hope you do too)

lily evans x fem!reader (modern!neighbours au)

a/n: first fic!!! pls be kind :) title is from your text by sundial

c/w: die joke, swearing (lmk if i missed anything)

You stared at the man with undisguised incredulity. “800 pounds? Are you kidding me? I thought we agreed on 500?” Trevor - or perhaps Troy rolled his eyes at you derisively. He probably thought he was being subtle - that stupid prick.

“It's just how it is, Miss. Moving stuff inside the 'ouse? Well, that's gonna cost you a bit extra, innit? Wouldn't want you gettin' in over your 'ead now, would we?" he jeered at you. His twin, Trevor, you identified from his tag, snickered stupidly at that. The universe was really testing your patience today. 

"Seriously? It would've been decent to tell me upfront that moving stuff indoors meant extra charges. This is ridiculous." Trevor turned to you then, all six feet of him tensed and towering over you. "Miss, it ain't on us. You got a problem with it, you take it up with the higher ups. Give us our dosh, we've got other bits to be getting on with." With a sigh you handed over the cash, regretting the choice of passing on your friends’ offers to help you with the move. 

With another sigh, you turned back to the big mess in front of you, your hands resting on your hips, visibly expressing the exhaustion you were already feeling. This had seemed like such an exciting idea at first, having your own space all to yourself. The independence and freedom that you had anticipated was certainly there and you were definitely feeling it now. Having to arrange all this furniture by yourself……very exciting. 

You let out a third sigh and felt the weariness seep into your bones. This was going to be a very long day. You took a step toward the covered couch - ready to begin settling into this new place, which would hopefully become your home. 

Suddenly, you were ambushed by a lasso which was thrown at your legs with murderous intent. The lasso then purred and you died…..due to the lasso’s cuteness. “Hello, kitty! Oh, you’re so precious,” you cooed. The cat (apparently not a lasso) meowed up at you, rubbing against your shins. “What’s your name, buddy?” you murmured softly, picking it up and settling it in your arms. The only response you received was another meow, and a curious paw on your face. Noticing your open door, you walked towards it, all the while, gently scratching the cat behind its ears. “You seem like such a distinguished member of the society. Oh, is that where you came from?” you wondered to yourself, noticing another open door down the hallway. “And you’re my new neighbour too, it’s so sweet of you to welcome me like that, kitty.” you giggled, shutting your door carefully.  “Let's get you back to your owner, shall we?” You walked up to the threshold of your neighbour’s house and knocked on the open door. 

Just then, ‘Kitty’, as you had begun to call the cat in your head, jumped down from your arms and ran inside — towards the kitchen, you assumed. Standing on your neighbour’s doorstep awkwardly with no apparent reason was definitely not on your agenda for the day but before you could say or do anything, a figure emerged from said kitchen, you assumed again. Following that, your heart skipped around five or at least two beats. 

Standing in front of you was probably the most gorgeous woman you had ever seen. Her red curls were tied up in a top bun and there was a smudge of flour across her left cheek. And she was saying something — to you. “— hall?” She asked, with a curious gaze fixed on you. 

“Huh? Sorry — I didn’t hear that, I was - I was thinking something else, sorry” you felt heat rise to your cheeks. 

At this, a teasing smile spread on her lips. She replied with a playful lilt to her tone "I said, I hope Crookshanks didn't give you any grief, darlin', and I was wonderin' if you're the new neighbour down the hall." 

“Oh yes, I am.’’ you replied hurriedly. “I’m in 403. Which you probably already know, cus' of all the noise.” Then you registered her previous statement. “Oh, wait — his name is Crookshanks? That’s such a cute name! How old is he?” 

“He’s four!” she replied eagerly. “He’s Himalayan. And I’m Lily Evans. What’s your name, love?” she asked, walking up to you. 

It was so hard not to stare at her — she was radiant, and you realised with a start that your palms were sweaty as hell. Quickly wiping them on the back of your thighs, you extended your right hand forward as you told her your name — mostly so that you would have something to do with them, but also because she was just so pretty. Although you didn’t want to be a creep, her hands looked so soft. You realised too late that they also looked dusty. The apologetic smile on her face just made you want to cringe even more. 

"I'm terribly sorry. I was actually just whipping up some cookie dough for your welcome biscuits. Seems I've spoiled the surprise, haven't I? But I do hope you're rather fond of chocolate chip! It's one of my specialties, you know." she winked. 

In your opinion, if you fainted, at that moment, it would be completely valid. The little nicknames, the supposed flirting (you hoped), and that wink? It was a surprise you were still standing straight. It took you a few seconds to find your voice again. “Oh, you didn’t have to, you know? But also thanks a lot. Crookshanks and his owner both definitely know how to give a warm welcome.” That was brave. And also slightly lame, in your opinion. But it seemed to have its desired effect or so you thought, judging by the slight twinkle in Lily’s eyes. Her body language shifted. She leaned in a bit closer and hummed playfully. "Looks like I owe thanks to my mate for leaving the door ajar as he left. Annoying as bloody hell, but it seems to have finally come in handy." 

You quirked a smile at that, hoping her close proximity didn’t mean she could feel the heat emanating off of your face. “Looks like you do, I guess. Anyway, I should get going. I’ve still got a shit ton of stuff to do and not enough time. I’ll see you — and Crookshanks, later though?” Judging by the way her smile seemed to soften around the edges, she definitely caught the hopeful tone at the end of your sentence. “Yes, you will. Fancy joining me for dinner tonight? I'm not exactly a master chef, but I reckon the gas ain't sorted yet at your place, love.” this time, her tone was quieter and she was looking directly into your eyes with a small smile. You shifted your weight to the other leg and looked to the floor, considering it. Was this a date? You desperately wanted it to be, but what if something went wrong? Then you would have to live next to her with that and it would be awkward as hell. Looking back up at her, you saw that she was waiting patiently for you to respond, and you decided to give it a shot. What will happen, will happen, right? 

“Sure.” you replied, hoping your voice didn’t betray the conflict you had felt. “I’d love that.” She smiled brightly and clapped her hands together, leading to a small cloud of flour enveloping the both of you. At that she grinned sheepishly and whispered “Sorry.” Guess you weren’t the only nervous one, after all."I'll see you after you're done with work, love. Just give me a shout, yeah? I’ll be waitin’." 

And with that, you left for your own flat, and the big mess that awaited you. You knew the nerves of the date — was it? — would power you to get through a majority of the work. A giddy smile on your face, you began with the Herculean tasks.

And if the exhaustion of the day seemed like a good excuse to sit a bit too close to each other on Lily’s couch while watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine after eating slightly overcooked pasta, who were you to object to that?

i hope u enjoyed it <3 likes and reblogs appreciated

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

I think its always fun to ask the opposite of the usual questions, so do all of the mercs have a least favorite thing (basically something that they despise)

What Do The TF2 Mercs Hate?

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Love this idea! Also, mandatory mutual appreciation comment, love you guys 💖

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I also did just realize I've been spelling headcanon wrong this entire time, so I will be editing that asap.

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Also, TW for maggots and slight Gore? (Were talking about Medic here, lmao)

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Demo. Weirdly enough, this man hates fireball and whisky in general. He's drank the most foul shit before, like even hard-core drunks would be nauseous at the thought, but no, the cinnamon gets him. He also just doesn't like how whisky feels and tastes.

Engie hates classical music to an insane degree. Like he doesn't hate the the music itself, he can admit the fact that Motzart and Beethoven sometimes go hard as fuck, but this man definitely emotionally tied to his emotions, it just makes him anxious.

Heavy hates mice. Like give him any other rodents, and he's fine, but he despises mice. And he's not even scared of them or anything. He just has this irrational hatrid of them. (No doubt when he was young, his mom made him chase off mice that wound up inside and made up a reason for him to hate mice that he just can remember).

Medic hates bugs. If anything in nature should be able to have multiple limbs and eyes, it should be something he made goddammit. (Half kidding) Also, they just think they're annoying. They tend to bother him while he's working because of the bodies he keeps. It's not fun to pick up a corpse you didn't know was rotting already and have maggots fall all over you.

Scout hates those like Live, Laugh, Love signs, and the wine mom decorations he just thinks they look so stupid, his mom has so many 😭 Also, he can not stand peppermint or mint in general It makes him so sick.

Sniper can't stand slugs. He likes snails, thinks slugs are natures greatest mistake. Ask him why and all he can say it "Well, it's naked, innit?"

Spy hates when he's already mad about something, and then someone says something about it. Like when he's obviously pissed and someone goes, "Jeez, someone's in a mood today." He has grabbed people by their throats over it.

Soldier hates when you have something in your hand, put it down for a minute, and then it disappears. Like it drives him insane, well, more insane than he already is.

Pyro hates q-tips, cotton balls, and Styrofoam. They hate the textures, the feelings, and the noises they make. It makes their skin crawl.

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I definitely don't relate to any of these. Hope you like it! I liked writing it, but it did make me reflect on how much I hate some of these things.

[royalsunshinehotel]

Running Out (Deon x f!reader)

Word count: 1,017

A/N: Deon is tied up with his own necktie, reader takes a domme approach to him, smut, the usual.

"What do we do now?" asked Deon, smiling up at you. 

If it had been that morning, you would have been annoyed at how soft he looked, staring, but the tie you had around his wrists did put a damper on your attitude. 

Months of staring, gazing, looking disrespectfully, and all you had to do was ask him directly, for what you both wanted. 

You should have known. His reputation around the office was “nice guy”, and “problem solver,” so he’d solve your problem by loaning you his dick. 

“I think I’ll have my way with you, do you mind?” You sighed, and he squirms lightly under you, no response. 

“You’ve done this before, right?” You followed up. 

“Bondage or Women?” He asked, voice dramatic, 

“Both I guess,” a blush crept up your chest, you were holding your breath, and he definitely noticed. 

“I’ll admit I’ve had neither.” Fair, you thought. 

“Oh,” Maybe don’t break him on the first go, “Do you want to have both?” You asked again.

Deon looked up at his wrists, firmly, but not harshly tied together above his head. 

“Uh, yeah.” 

“Well that’s good innit?” You teased, suddenly feeling like you’d had the air squeezed from you. 

Deon felt heat rise to his ears. There's a small, sad part of him that thinks you'll laugh at him and leave him here. He's just a geek, he could never expect to be with someone like you.

But the way you'd just breezed past his inexperience... he was running out of things to be anxious about! 

Perhaps you'd see his scar and be disgusted?

But as you straddled him and mouthed at his neck, he seemed less and less convinced that you would be phased. This just left the (obvious) conclusion that he wouldn't let himself look at directly. 

You liked him.

He all but whined when you gently, but firmly, tugged his shirt free of his pants. Pausing only for a moment at the ghastly marks left from summer in Johannesburg.

He heard a soft, gentle, "poor baby", before you moved on, unzipping his trousers and tugging them down.

You wouldn't tell him that you're throbbing. 

You wouldn't mention how you want to run your tongue over all those pale little scars. 

Maybe he would let you blow him later, you’d have to remember to ask. 

“Whatever happened must have been gnarly,” you thought, but you kept it to yourself. 

The thing was, you meant to keep Deon for a long time. You didn’t know if he was aware, or maybe you should have said as much before you ended up in this position. 

As you tugged his pants down, you paused, quickly and quietly crawling back up. 

He looked bewildered when you kissed him on the nose. 

“What was that for?” He questioned, baffled, and even more handsome. 

“Just for fun, I’m going to suck your cock now. May I?” 

He nodded, “Y-yes.” 

What a stammering fool, you were going to suck out his soul.

"You need to remember to breathe though. Okay?" You warned, getting a soft "Okay,” in response. 

Your heart had seen fit to start humming in your ears, and you shuffled back down. Maybe you took it slower, maybe you pressed yourself against him, just to hear his breath catch.

He was just as thin as he looked, but warm and comfortable. He seemed to be growing before your eyes, making you salivate. 

You ran your hands down the little trail of hair on his belly, before pulling him out of his boxers. 

Plenty long, thicker than you could have hoped for. Quietly, you smiled, “God bless us every one.” 

With Deon propped up, you made a show of making a long, wet lick to your palm, he moaned before you even touched him, and it’s just like music. 

Your hands shook lightly as you pumped him once, twice, just to get him used to the feeling of your hands. 

He was too polite, if he was able, he’d want to hold one of your hands while you deflowered, you wouldn’t put it past him. 

You shook off the unbearable tenderness as you put your mouth over his tip. The sound he made was just pitiful. 

He felt hot, heavy in your mouth, as you traced a prominent vein with the tip of your tongue. You swirl your tongue, letting him make shallow thrusts, whatever came naturally for him. He wouldn’t hurt you, you knew that, so he could stop acting like it if he wanted!

But really, he still felt too stiff. 

You squeezed, carefully, gently, to get the reaction you wanted, and he bucks his hips into your hand, shaky and pathetic. 

“What did I say about breathing,” you pulled back for a moment, voice soft, unlike your intentions. 

“You said to do it?” 

“I did.” Just to be mean, your teeth grazed the skin of his hip. 

“Was I not doing it?” 

"If I was you, I'd start now,” and Deon got a chill. He was all yours, and in that moment, he knew it. 

As you sucked, and licked, and teased, you told him exactly that. The tie around his wrists began to digg, just a little, but he didn't mind, slowly rolling his hips into your mouth, leisurely pace.

That was exactly how you wanted him. The two of you have all the time in the world. 

"I'm-" Deon tries, but cuts himself off, "I think I'm-" His face scrunched in on itself as you kept him hostage in the ridges of the roof of your mouth.

"Good boy, you're being so brave for me,” you thought, tightening your grip on his legs. 

The fist around Deon’s heart tightens, and in an instant, you felt his release inside your mouth. 

As the haze slowly lifted, it still didn’t seem real. As you cleaned up his mess, you could tell he was still stunned. 

Spreading your hand out on his stomach, nails lightly grazing, "Hang in there Deedee." You cooed, soothing him. 

"Okay," he replied, strangled.

This would be enough, for now at least.

[theformerbastard]

who is/are your comfort character(s)? My love for Jane Lane is pretty well documented.

lighter or matches? When I was a smoker I was obsessed with lighters but matches smell so goddamn good.

do you leave the window open at night? I hate windows so much.

which cryptyd being do you believe in? Bigfoot. I deadass keep my eyes peeled when I drive thru super wooded areas. I think most of the other ones are just people seein' barn owls but Bigfoot is out there, man.

what color are your eyes? Blue

why did you do that? Wanted to

hair-ties or scrunchies? When I had hair I was all about hair-ties

how many water bottles are in your room right now? Got a 2 liter of diet pepsi in the mini fridge

which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee? None coffee

would you slaughter the rich? I mean...no? I know what this is actually askin', I just don't like the wording

favorite extracurricular activity? Drinkin'

what kind of day is it? It's chewsdy innit (it's Thursday but that was the first thing that came to mind)

when was the last time you ate? Like...minutes ago

do you love the smell of earth after it rains? I've never understood people that say "smells like rain"

are you a parent? (all answers qualify) nope

can you drive? yep

are you farsighted or nearsighted? near

what hair products do you use? water

imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails? I can paint my own but I think I'd be shit at paintin' someone elses

do you say soda or pop? Soda. People that say pop are lunatics.

something you’ve kept since childhood? anxiety

what type of person are you? anxious

how do you feel about chilly weather? BIG fan

if we were together on a rooftop, what would we be doing? Playin' roller hockey (where my Kevin Smith fans at?)

perfume/body spray or lotion? On me? Nothin'

a scenario that you’ve replayed multiple times? Every awkward encouter I've had since I was like 7

about how many hours of sleep did you get? depends

do you wear a mask? *Jim Carrey doin' Ben Stein* we all wear masks...metaphorically speaking

how do you like your shower water? In the shower

is there dishes in your room? Nope

what type of music keeps you grounded? Country

do you have a favorite towel? Used to. It was light purple. Fuck. Such a good fuckin' towel.

the last adventure you’ve been on? *in my best Jeff Bridges voice* ya know...uhhh we're like in it, man.

is there a song you know every word to by heart? Yes

what’s your timezone? Depends

how many times have you changed your url? A few

someone in your life, other than a relative, you’ve known for 10+ years? Brooke

a soap bar that smells good? Irish spring

do you use lip balm? Nope

did you have any snacks today? Bag of cheetos for lunch #healthnut

how do you take your coffee? I don't

an app you frequently use besides this godforsaken site? Instagram

what’s your take on spicy foods? I'm a bitch

you get a free pass to kill anyone, who is it? That's dark and I don't like that my brain is actually comin' up with names

can you remember what happened yesterday? I'd have to think really hard

favorite holiday film? While You Were Sleeping. It counts.

what was the last message you sent? "ALLLLLLL?!?!!" When @didee-anne told me she wanted me to answer all of these

when did you first try an alcohol beverage? I'm not good with ages but a "friend" gave me a shot of wild turkey and a shot of bacardi 151 in high school. I'd tried my dads beer before that but the shots feel more...significant.

can you skip rocks? It's been years but yeah

can i tag you in random stuff? Why not

[driftward]

Title: FFXIV Write 2023 - 2. Bark Characters: Thancred Waters, Y'shtola Rhul Rating: Teen Summary: Thancred gets in some trouble. Y'shtola is less than sympathetic. From the time before the Sharlayan colony was abandoned. Notes: None

Y'shtola ignored the first knocks on the door to the atelier, instead preferring to continue to focus on her reading. A second knock came, and she ignored it as well. With the third, the pattern became unsteady, and she sighed, setting her book aside to go to answer the door.

Opening the door revealed a haggard looking Thancred leaning heavily against the door jam, his face sweaty and several welts on his arm. She felt her ears go back as she quickly stepped to the side, letting him stumble in.

"Hoy, Yashtola," he slurred.

She shut the door behind him and quickly stepped to the side with his good arm, taking it and steering him to one of the benches available in the room. "My goodness, Thancred, whatsoever happened to you - and why are you here instead of at the infirmary?"

He flashed her a grin that she knew he thought was charming and roguish. Normally she would roll her eyes at his sheer cheek, but instead she sat him down and began to rapidly unbutton his shirt, frowning.

"Ey now, I though' you weren' inerested," he teased. That earned him a glare, which he chuckled at.

"Nor am I now, but you seem to have dragged your sorry carcass into my care, and I cannot very well leave you out for carrion. 'Twould attract unseemly scavengers," she said, pulling his shirt off and crouching to look closely at his wounds.

Welts that were familiar to her.

"And you still have yet to answer my question," she said curtly.

"Ah, well, yannow... trainin'." he said with an easy shrug. "Can' all of us 'ave cushy work wit' books and frogs."

"Poroggos," she corrected idly, as she went to her bench. "What manner of training would have you down beneath the lochs? The narbrooi down there are not to be taken lightly."

"Aw, well, it hurts like a swivin'-"

"Language."

"...but it ain' so bad. I though' the trainin' mammets would be worse. See, I was supposed to sneak by them, get t' a cove, get my dibber-dabbers-"

"Proper words, if you kindly."

"Aw, I'm tryin' to tell ya why I'm so banged up, gimme some jack."

"You asked for my help. 'Tis no fault of mine that you chose my door over others," she said, as she began to pull down the ingredients she would need for the care Thancred required.

He shifted uncomfortably on the seat as he watched for a moment. "Whatchu doin', anyroad?"

"You will need a poultice, as well as an antivenom. The nettles of the narbrooi are not immediately dangerous alone, but I will need to nullify their venom before I attempt conjury. And you shall suffer other deleterious effects from if it your wounds are not treated properly." She looked over at him. "It is good that you came quickly. We may yet stave off infection."

He flashed her a grin. "Well there's half your answer right there then, innit? I can' trust the infirmary to have gotten to me any faster, seein' as I'm, well," he trailed off, his smile faltering slightly.

Y'shtola nodded, understandingly. It was not all that very long ago that she held views not all that different from her countrymen, judging others by where they came rather than from the truth of who they were.

A chance encounter had taught her otherwise. And so while others had been cold to Louisoix's latest, she had taken care to welcome him.

Even if he was often vexing.

"I understand. Here. Drink this. It will soothe your aches while I prepare other alchemies."

He took the bottle from her and looked at it, before downing it, making a face as he did so. "Ugh. What's in this swill?"

"Chanterelle - that is a local mushroom - and mistletoe, in a solution of distillate. That will keep the edge off. Now. As you were saying?"

"...trainin', that's what I was gettin' at. They set up some trainin' mammets down 'neath the locks, want me to swipe some mushrooms withou' bein' noticed. Thought one of them had me near made, so I did a little duck an' dive over a ledge, and found a few o' them sharp fellows. Hey," he asked, craning his neck to try and watch what she was doing. "Wot's all that for, then?"

"Narbrooi bark, to make the antivenom. Pure spirits for solution. Wort, rock salt, and an alembic. These will form the basis for a dressing I shall apply to your injuries."

"Narbrooi are those things I found then, hey?"

"Quite so."

"...you sure you oughta be giving me more of that then? I think I've had quite my fill."

"Indeed. The wort is local to the environment, and must needs live in peace with the narbrooi. To that end, its leaves will react to their venom with a counteragent that keeps the peace betwixt the two, as it were. The alembic shall help me form a distillate that will isolate that agent. The salt shall serve as stabilizer, as well as thickener. Now be still a moment, I must needs focus."

Thancred fell silent as she worked. She thought to herself as she stirred her concoction and mixed ingredients on the way to making her tincture. When she was younger, she would have found his persistent inquiries grating, irritated by his lack of knowledge and seeming poor sense. Much like her master, she had little patience for fools.

However, she considered, as she tapped her pestle against the walls of the mortar, she had come around to having an appreciation for earnest curiosity in the true pursuit of knowledge. She smiled a bit to herself at the thoughts, as she transferred the mixture to an alembic, before collecting the distillate into a bowl, which she handed to Thancred.

"Hold that a moment while I retrieve some bandages."

She turned and dug through a cabinet, and heard Thancred make a terrible retching noise behind her. She turned quickly to see him holding the bowl away from him and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Och, and I thought the first thing you 'ad me drink was bad. That was foul."

"You were not meant to drink it!"

"No wonder. I gotta say... that thing's bark is worse than its bite."

She frowned as he looked at her for a long moment before breaking into a grin and laughing.

"Cor, I'm not that daft, you said it was a dressin', I didn't drink it none."

Y'shtola strode back over and snatched the bowl from his hands, continuing to frown at him. She sat down next to him and yanked his arm over, and began to not so gently apply the dressing. As she did so, he howled in a mix of pain and his own amusement, unable to resist laughing at his own joke even as he felt the sting of the antivenom.

"You are incorrigible," said Y'shtola, and Thancred just kept laughing.

[as-above-rp]

🌿 MistleHOE with dealer's choice!!! ;)

Send 🌿 to accidentally get caught under the mistletoe with my muse. | Accepting!

It was Riot's turn to pick where he and Crowley stopped for a warm drink and a bite to eat during their patrol. It was a cozy little hole-in-the-wall bakery that had some spiced elderberry turnovers that he was dying to dig into. As they were walking up the sidewalk to the establishment though, he saw some folks up ahead looking their way and hanging around an archway set up on the sidewalk. His keen eye spotted a patch of green dangling from a red bow tied to the decoration--mistletoe. Studying their body language again, Riot could guess that these people were trying to look like they were having a chat, while keeping an eye on how close the two were getting to the archway.

Now, Riot was feeling awfully mischievous today, as it would turn out. And this was just a couple days after he and Crowley had joked about how it would be funny to pretend they were a couple--while also pretending not to know what people were talking about after they'd been called out on it--to confuse the public on their relationship statuses. It was more of a "what if" scenario at the time, but seeing the civilians purposefully slow their steps and purposefully time it so they'd end up under the arch """accidentally""", it rubbed Riot the wrong way. It felt almost, predatory; which was more than enough reason for him to be a menace in turn.

So just as they were about to reach the archway, Riot pretended to trip and stumble forward, grabbing Crowley's bicep and practically dragging him under the archway with him. They bumped into a couple of the folks waiting for them, but Riot quickly straightened up and looked at them apologetically.

"Oh no, are you all alright? Oh dear, I am terribly sorry--!" He apologized, with his other hand over his chest and a sincere look to his eyes to really try and sell the act.

"How embarrassin' fer me to trip over my own feet like that! I hope none of ye got seriously hurt by my carelessness! Now, wot were ye all lookin' at before I-- Oh? Wot's that?" He looked up, and pointed at the mistletoe hanging above the two heroes.

"Ohh, would ye lookat that! I didn't even see that, walkin' up this way! An' now i've got an' gotten us both underneath it with my clumsiness. Welp," He shrugged. "Might as well--"

And right in front of the gaggle of civilians he had just pushed through to spare the both of them from a potential publicity nightmare, Riot grabbed Crowley's face with both hands and pulled him in for a very aggressive, drawn out kiss. He topped it off with a loud 'MWAH!' sound as he pulled away.

"There we go! First time we've done that in public, innit? Anyways, we'd better get goin' if we wanna grab a snack before our break is up! You folks have a lovely day--Happy Holidays, an' stay safe!"

And with an arm around Crowley's shoulder (that lingered just long enough to stir up some questions), Riot led him out from under the archway so they could continue on their way to the bakery. He'd explain himself once they got there.

[dasillypacowaco]

First met.

So, Pim and Hobie actually met 3 times before they start getting to know each other so we're gonna go through all those times bc I'm bored.

The sound of people chattering and doing their things filled the spider society HQ. Pim just got recruited a week ago and was already overwhelmed by how much spider-people there actually are, and he was a bit scared as well.

Pim walked around the HQ, trying to find his way around with confusion when he bumped into someone, or maybe that someone bumped into him, he wasn't sure. But what he sure was that he fell onto his butt while hearing a deep male voice with cockney accent said,

"sorry, mate, my bad."

Pim looked up, but the person seems to be gone already, leaving him puzzled and a tiny bit upset.

An hour and a half... it's been an hour and a half since Pim has been tapping his foot furiously, grumbling and walking around in circles as he waited on something. Or rather someone.

"ugh, where the fuck is that guy!?"

Pim was on a mission, a mission that Miguel has assigned him on with another spider-person. He doesn't know who they are but he knows one thing, he already hated them. Who leave their co-worker waiting for an hour and a half on a mission!? They better have one hell of a good reason.

Then, the sound of portal coming from behind Pim making him jumped slightly as he turned around and ready to see what kind of person made him waited this long.

Jumping out from the opened portal was a tall, lanky Spider-Man with punk style clothing and spikes everywhere. Pim was...intimidated, to say the least. In his universe it was a slight cyber-punk world with an entire different fashion, so seeing some dressed like that was not an usual thing.

"Let just get this over with, yeah?"

The punk guy walked pass Pim. His voice was deep and his accent was thick. Pim, being a none native English speaker, barely made out what the guy said.

"Hey! Do you know how long I've been waiting for you!? Where were you!??"

"I don't believe in time."

...what? Pim was confused, upset, frustrated, and hated this man's gut.

After the mission (which was not a pleasant mission) he found out that the guy he just went on a mission with was Hobart "Hobie" Brown from E-138. He made sure to remember his name and tell Miguel not to pear him up with that guy ever again or he'll quit.

Pim jumped out of the portal, into HQ with a tied up anomaly in his arms and Gwen Stacy, or Ghost-spider by his side. They just finished a mission together and surprisingly, they've become a really good friend despite the fact that they went on only one mission together.

After dealing with the anomaly, Gwen leaded Pim through the HQ to meet her friend. She wanted them to be friends as well since they both are really good friends to her.

"So...Pim, this is Hobie. Hobie, this is Pim!"

Glaring. The only thing Pim gave Hobie was an intense glare. He didn't expect this, and didn't like this at all. Though, he couldn't deny that Hobie was...kinda attractive without his mask but that's not the point.

"Ay! It's you, lad! Little grumpy mate! Been a while, innit?"

"Nope."

Pim decided that he can't deal with this today. He turned around instantly and walked away from the two. Gwen was confused, but Hobie seems to be amused as he scoffed and watched Pim walked away.

"wait- you guys know each other?"

Later date on, Gwen tried to convince Pim that Hobie wasn't as bad as he thinks and to give the man a chance. So Pim started to hang out with Gwen and Hobie, and also Pavitr more. He still hate Hobie's gut though, but admir how he stands up for what he believes in and how he cares about his friends.

If the grammar was messed up or wrong please don't attack me, English is not my first language I'm so sorry

[destiny-smasher]

New update today! Another tomorrow.

Penny and Nemona meet up with Arven before chatting with Hassel and Brassius at the annual Artazon Arts Festival. Nemona gets ready to square off for a promotional match…

Excerpt:

“Now, then, what can I do you for?” Penny instinctively turned to Nemona, who found herself hungry for something sweet... And the menu had multiple great options on this front. But one she hadn't had in ages caught her eye. “Ooo, sata andagi?!” Nemona noted one item in particular, clapping her hands. “Doesn't that sound great right now?!” “... Remind me what that is, again?” Penny flatly asked. “Sorta like doughnuts,” Arven casually explained, “but shaped into round balls instead of rings. Got the recipe from Mrs. Koito a ways back. These include a bit of Oran glaze to 'em, too.” “Ohhh, right, those.” Penny nodded and shrugged at Nemona, who was feverishly nodding back. Seeing her girlfriend's buzzing, Penny slowly uttered with a shrug, “Uhhh, sure?” “Yes-yes-yessss,” hissed Nemona with glee, her stomach practically roaring with hunger at the prospect. “Coming right up,” said Arven, firing off a finger gun at the couple. “On the house today!” he added as he spun around and went to digging some freshly friend balls of dough out for them. As Nemona took in the delectable scents of Arven's fried foodstuffs, Penny nudged at Nemona's hip with her elbow. “Mm?” Nemona hummed inquisitively. Penny whispered beneath the sizzling food truck, “We should get something else, help him out.” “I don't wanna spoil dinner,” Nemona objected, and already found herself feeling a bit guilty at the prospect of eating something so fatty at all to begin with. “Well, sure,” Penny acknowledged, “so... let's get something for Brassius, and, urh, Hassel, he's totally gonna show up, innit?” “Huh, yeah, betcha he will,” Nemona agreed. “Been a while since I've seen him, come to think...” “You've been pretty tied up with the promotion,” her girlfriend pointed out. Lowering her eyelids with mischief, Nemona teased, “'Bout to be pretty tied up with you tonight, jeje...” Nemona savored the bashful smirk Penny donned in reaction to Nemona's cheeky one-liner. “G-Gonna hold you to that, y'know,” Penny sheepishly grunted out, clearing her throat as some pedestrians passed them by. Without either really thinking much of it, Nemona hooked her arm beneath Penny's, tenderly grasping at the woman's skinny bicep and scratching it through Penny's sleeve.

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2023 PRESHOW - Part 4: Acts I can Respect, I guess.

Some songs aren’t for me. But they still bring something new or different to the table and I can respect that. Here are five songs on the cusp between almost good and almost meh.

25. GEORGIA Iru - “Echo” Semi 2, #slot11

Iru set a weird new standard for eurofandom cabin fever when they concluded that Georgia were GIVING OFF WINNER vibes based A FUCKING PHOTOGRAPH.

OMG SO FIERCE SHE’S GONNA SLAY -- really stupid people. 

Fortunately, “Echo” soon released and instantly erased this nonsense 🙂. And let “nonsense” be the ideal word to describe “Echo” with. Dear Georgia, the fuck’s this chorus?

Days in a row I'm thinking, I know I've got a big faith My love is my crown Will be better way Will be better day now It is not a secret

Eurovision is no stranger to word salads, especially from Georgia, but “Echo” is a word casserole. It follows the Barkerian approach of throwing logic out of the window and treating words as merely another layer of sound. You cannot PRETEND to have meaning and also do this, sorry that doesn’t work! Come back when ur sober...x. 

But what about the rest of the song? I suppose there is an interesting structure here where “Echo” just discards a beginning and ending, and just jumps into three minutes of straight action. Breaking conventional norms! The interest is fully academic though because it just doesn’t work. If you’re thrust into the action immediately and unprepared as a first time viewer, nothing is going to fucking stick, innit?

Like yeah, I know. This is Georgia and they’re a bit different than most other countries and we’re expect to believe they’re MASTERING the avant garde genre after delighting us with “Midnight Gold” and “Visionary Dream”... and yet I’m not buying into it this year. “Echo” is no less of a sham than “Jezinky” or “Secreto del Aqua” (or, dare I say, that other Blanca Paloma song?) in that it just showboats baseline artistry + power vocals while neglecting to deliver the base product of a good song - and they get away with ALL of it because Iru is a woman!

In terms of personal enjoyment, Georgia probably should have been a part of the last update (Iru’s virtually tied with Alika), but eh. “Echo” is a lot of things (at once.), but it’s not BORING. It tries to bring something different to the table and I can respect the attempt. The result’s just... kinda stupid and nonsensical, that’s all. 🤷‍♀️

Odds at Eurovision - Georgia

“Echo” is one of several borderlines in semi 2, so it really depends on how well Georgia stage it and how awful the other BLs are. 

The main hurdle they face is general appeal. “Echo” lacks a clear beginning or end, let alone a base fucking narrative which makes it very difficult to get into. The only trump card Georgia have are Iru’s vocals, but what advantage would this screaming woman have over an Alika or a Diljá? a draw in the middle of the favourite (and directly after the criminally underrated Slovene entry) won’t do them much favours either. 

It all boils down to how well Georgia get their artistic vision across and this has been tried and ruled to be televote repellent for the past seven contests. 

If Georgia do qualify, it would be a good indicator that there is some mass appeal there and, I could see “Echo” getting a midtable result with moderately positive acclaim from both vote bases. 

I do NOT believe Georgia are coming top 10 though. 🙂 12th is their celing, sorry to disappoint you now BUT IT’ S FOR YOUR OWN GOOD TO GET USED TO DISAPPOINTMENT ONCE SHE DOES WORSE THAN THAT IN LIVERPOOL. 

Qualifier Tier: C Projected placement: 7th-14th (Semi), 

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

24. DENMARK Reiley - “Breaking my heart” Semi 2, slot #01

This lil’ fucker is twenty-five.

Weeerq? 

This seems like a good point to eliminate Reiley. You know my taste by now, and are fully aware that “K-pop loving twink” is NOT a flavour I particularly like or care for, in any medium or universe.

However, I don’t really mind Reiley at all oops. Should I? I know people loved that uncanny valley rock song and that awkward marriage duet, but when I heard the Danish hopefuls (only once, I assure you) I was surprised to like the TikTok twink the most. And then he won, HOORAY!

Unfortunately we’re sort of in the ReDDI zone here where I liked Reiley the most at DMGP and wanted him to win... but DMGP is always kinda shit, so once he won and one has to compare “Breaking my heart” to songs that are actually, you know, better than “just okay”, he immediately dropped to upper yellow and stayed there forevermore.

For me personally the big dealbreaker isn’t so much the K-pop inspired music or the twinkishness or the fact that he’s a fucking INFLUENCER with a clearly fake follower count - it’s the fucking aggro autotune. the “IF WE COULD GO BACK TO THE START”s of “Breaking my heart”  should have been THE slope I could have slid down into embracing a Danish entry just this once (in a similar way to how allowing “Ciutoooo tuuuuto” to dwell rent-free in my brain made me enjoy “Stay” way more than I should), but the robot voice ruins it for me. You sir, are no Olson brother. 😌

Odds at Eurovision - Denmark

Another one of those Semi 2 borderline qualifiers, eh? Well, I’m tempted to say Denmark make it through in their usual 10th place since at Eurovision there’s always a place for upbeat bouncy pop (and also, semi 2 is generally just kinda miserable) and Reiley does have a (clearly fake but still) large enough follower count. 

However, Denmark are on first and this may be just my wrong impression, but I think “Breaking my heart” is a shittttt opener. Semi 2 doesn’t exactly have good opening material in its first half, but i would have let Belgium kick it off, surely?  Semi 2 has a slow start and by being a fairly meh first act Reiley is in part responsible FOR the early show lethargy. 

If Denmark do qualify, I think they’ll get a lowish result in the Grand Final. Unless they get massive traction from juries in a Lake Malawi sort of way (which I doubt because “Breakin’ my heart” is sadly, not very catchy), I’d guesstimate they’ll come crashing into a bottom 5 position. 

Qualifier Tier: C+ Projected placement: 8th-12th (semi), 23rd-26th (Grand Final)

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

23. SPAIN Blanca Paloma - “Eaea”  Autoqualifier

I am going to regret this, am I not? 🙄😣

So yeah, Spain’s entry is fine. I HATED that Blanca won with such overwhelming force, beating Nochentera and Arcadia (two of the best, if not the two best acts of the NF season), but w/e I’m over it. I don’t think anyone can deny that Blanca Paloma is a visionary artist with a clear understanding of both visual spectacle and musical fusion. She manages to really NAIL a flamenco punk vocal (arguably one of the three best vocalists in the year, the other two being Gustaph and Andrejs from Sudden Lights) and supports it with an act that is a feast for the eyes.

In sum,  Everything about “Eaea” is great!

Except for the fucking song. 

Ya see, Spain’s really in the same ballpark as Georgia for me: Their song is basically a bunch of nonsense that should be deemed unviable on the spot through sheer logic, but is revered by the fandom through a combination of latent misandry and stockholm syndrome. “Eaea is at least more of a song than than “Echo” is - its lyrics make sense and the song follows a clear narrative. Hence the Reiley-sized gap between them on the ranking. 

However, “Eaea” has a different Big Problem in that it builds promise right at the start, and then seemingly devolves into a two-minute vocal masturbation exercise, and that’s where it loses me.  I LIKE the flamenco vocals, but I don’t like the way it is used in the song. It’s exhausting. The music plays second fiddle to the vocals and I feel like it should be the other way around! I really don’t fucking CARE about the Where I Ams of this world, sorry, never have, never shall!

So what do I fucking do with an act that I enjoy looking at and DON’T enjoy listening to? I suppose I use them as the dividing line between what I like and what I don’t like, I guess? Everything else about Spain is great this year, so idk, maybe I’ll like it at the end? 

Basically, I need more time to ruminate over where I like “Eaea” or not, and in what capacity. I don’t fucking know right now, and thinking about it (and the reaction of the Spaintard when they stumble across this post) ages me. I’ve decded that I’ll give an answer after Blanca’s ESC journey has been completed, so I’ll just dump her here and you’ll just have to deal. :-) 

Which brings me to:

Odds at Eurovision - SPAIN

To be fair, when Eaea first won I thought it would be the usual overrated Spanish entry that would flop at ESC. Like genuinely, mid-table? Honestly, I feel like that could have been the result in a competitive year.

However, I have to retract my words here. As more entries poured in and the year became  progressively less competitive, it also became clear to me that Spain will indeed do very well in Liverpool. For the gripes that I have about her song, Blanca has consistently been excellent live in both vocals and acting. As the days pass, the more convinced I am she will be able to bluff her way into the hearts of juries and televoters and eke out another top five for Spain. 

I doubt she wins though, which is what the Blancaheads would like you to believe. On paper, Spain is a dark horse contender, the most likely winner after Finland and Sweden, but let’s be fair, it really just is Sweden or Finland, with zero chance of anyone else? It’s looking more and more like a Loreen coronation to a point I want to vomit one could even argue Käärijä is a Dark Horse to win it now.

But yeah, I no longer believe she’s midtable anymore, and I will be very angry with myself if she does flop (she won’t) for not sticking to my first impression. 🙂

Cool electric guitar though. 🙂

Projected Placement: 2nd-5th (prediction: 3rd)

22. GERMANY Lord of the Lost - “Blood and glitter” Autoqualifier

Okay, so Lord of the Lost are the first act on this ranking that I will say I ~like~, but only just. 🙂

Let’s start with the good bits. CAMPY SCHLAGER METAL YESSSS  😍 INSTANTLY MEMORABLE VISUAL SPECTACLE YESSSS  😍 ENERGY SPIKES DURING A BORINGDULL LIVE SHOW YESSSS 😍

Added bonus: Germany FINALLY selecting something entertaining and non-conformist in forever. Bag that safe and insipid era!!!

Now, the not good bits. Which us honestly  just one big thing: “Blood and glitter” is not very exciting. DESPITE BEING WHAT IT IS. 

I feel like there are several smaller reasons why it doesn’t excite me as much: The cadence of the verses is arrhythmic and disturbs the flow they’re going for, and while Lord of the Lost went far enough on their campy gore for a shitshow like Unser Lied, I don’t think they go far enough for Eurovision (at least not yet). I’m taking about both music AND staging btw.

The biggest killer for me though is that I feel like “Blood and glitter” just lasts too fucking long. Around the halfway point Lord of the Lost just start to repeat the chorus in different music styles and that makes the second half tedious and, dare I say it, kinda boring? It’s like the end of Return of the King, except the Fellowship are all Orcs.

Overall though, I do feel like Germany show promise and I like them... but they have a long road ahead if they want to rise on this ranking come May. 😶

Odds at Eurovision - Germany

This one’s easy: midtable result at best, probably in the third quadrant of the scoreboard. If the Unser Lied vote was any indicator, we’re in for a very low jury and high-ish televote. 

I do NOT buy that the televote by itself will be enough to carry Germany into the top 10, which is a take I’ve heard from others. Like, they’ll get points, enough to avoid the bottom five, but surely we should realize by now that Käärijâ will receive the bulk of the metalheads’ votes, followed distantly by Voyager. Lord of the Lost’s tally will be whatever crumbs those two didn’t eat. (like Finland’s TV for instance).

Germany need to make Blood and Glitter more exciting through its staging, but I also don’t trust ARD at all. Germany have had too many outright failures as of late. Which may be Germany’s biggest hurdle overall. When most people expect you to be bad, it’s a LOT of work to convince them you’re worthy of being given a chance, regardless of whether you are or not. 

And a song with six final choruses may not be the best at achieving that lofty goal.

Projected placement: 14th-20th

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

21. AZERBAIJAN TuralTuranX - “Tell me more” Semi 1, slot #12

WEIRDO TWINBEASTS <3333

After last year’s Nadir debacle I promised myself to hate  Azerbaijan’s crap no matter what!! 

Once they announced their act, a pair emaciated gremlin twinks with a stage name straight from MySpace, I convinced myself they would be shit and I would HATE them! 

And yet, “Tell me more” released and against every impulse, I liked it almost immediately! Socially awkward and yet touchingly naive, it’s a song that lights up like Napolean Dynamite. It feels like a very fitting choice for a contest set in the same city that produced The Beatles. 😁

Out of the many things you can say about Azerbaijan at ESC, their most prominent trait has always been the steady stream of Swedish McSongs performed by jazz singers who clearly despised the experience. 

It is refreshing to have that very same country send an awkward, unpretentious self-composed Britrock song by two young men that actually seem to embrace the experience for once. Tural and Turan not only attended a few of the preparties (which the Azerbaijani NEVER do), they actually joined the afterparty in Amsterdam as well, where they -to my delight- appeared to deliberately avoid Ell -who was also present :/ - before mingling with the fans. Clearly Tural and Turan are guys willing to live their best live, and I support it.

So why rank them only 21st in spite of the praise? Well, BECAUSE I HAVE SMELLED BLOOD. 😈😈😈😈

Odds at Eurovision - AZERBAIJAN

We’re finally getting it: The rare Azerbaijani NQ, and I’m SO excited for it. Yes, it of course is going to happen when Azer are sending their most risky, quirky and authentic entry in years, that’s just how the universe works. It is unfortunate whenever daring and originality are rewarded with failure, but guess what - recompense for last year, bitches. 

The Nadir tomfoolery was inexcusable (Andrea was ROBBED!) and we’re owned payment in the form of a cold hard NQ. 

In that regard, I absolutely believe Tural and Turan will deliver because (1) awkward twinbeasts (2) “Tell Me More” is already strange and unvoteable in itself (3) they’re up right after Loreen. Three strikes and ur OWT. 

Like realistically, I could see Azer finish ahead Ireland and Netherlands... and maybe Shitzerland in the televote. But who is going to pick up their phone for a despised jury pet? The Brits who cannot vote in semi 1 anyway? Latvia?

The cherry on the sundae: I honestly do believe “Tell Me More” would be Q with juries, or even Q *thanks to* the juries, if juries were to play a part in the semfinal. But they won’t, so OOPS can’t resort to your old tactics this time around Azer! Too bad! So sad! 🙂

Projected placement: 11th-15th (Semifinal)

THE RANKING:

Part 1: The BAD entries   (Switzerland / Croatia / Israel / Greece) Part 2: the IRRELEVANT entries  (Ireland / Albania / Netherlands / San Marino) Part 3: The Borewhores (Estonia / Ukraine / Cyprus / Italy) next up, entries I enjoy! Hooray!

[terracottaheart26]

Ya Amar

Chapter 4

Pairings: Marc Spector x Female!oc, Steven Grant x Female!oc, Jake Lockley x Female!oc

Genre: Fluff (angst and smut later on)

Summary: About 6 years ago, Marc Spector had a small whirlwind romance with a young woman after leaving home, though he fears attachment and leaves her behind. When he finally meets her again after 6 years, with a few surprises, could he bear to face her and reveal his truth?

Attn: Hey! Sorry it too me this long for chapter 4, been busy with work and some writers block, but glad you’re liking this series so far! Thank you! Also not much Steven or jake this chapter, but more to come soon <3

Steven and Jake waited impatiently while Marc typed up a simple text. He had a little difficulty though, tapping his foot with furrowed brows on the creaky floorboards of the old London flat. Why was this so difficult? It’s not like he was asking her out on a date, maybe at some point, but he’d want to try and go slow this time around. Wanting to try and spend some time with the three of them. Try and get to know them.

“Doesn’t mean you don’t also wanna do a ‘one on one’ jefé”

Jake snickered in the mind space, earning a soft chuckle from Steven. Marc flushing a bit and wishing they go away. Not like he wouldn’t want to spend time with her again.

“Guys, I’m trying to concentrate here” he mutters, throwing the phone aside and laying down onto the couch. Done with their bickering. It was like having two angels on his shoulders! Steven couldn’t stop fawning over how cute the twins were, and Jake needed to keep his own opinions to himself. He had enough of listening to what a MILF Terra was.

A small beep interrupted his thoughts.

Scurrying up from the bed, he found his phone and saw he’d received a message from an unknown number. Oh wait, she’d texted him, not like he was the only one who got a number after heading out from the bed and breakfast.

[Terra] Hey! Didn’t know. If you were up, but I was wondering if you would wanna hang out with the three of us tomorrow? The kids want to head to the zoo :)

The zoo? Him in a zoo. He hadn’t gone to one since he’d lived at home, since Randall, and it seemed like a fun idea. Would it seem forced though? Maybe the kids wouldn’t want him hanging around their mom.

“It’s a wonderful idea! This is a chance we were looking for, innit?

Not like he was wrong, it would be a good opportunity to know the twins some more. And now thinking about it, they did seem to like him the other day, finding Terra smiling from across the way. She seemed to be admiring him.

He’d sent a text back as quick as he could, smiling a bit from. Her quick response back.

[Marc] That sounds good, what time would you want to meet up?

[Terra] We’re going to meet up at the bed and breakfast and use my cousins car to drive there, 10 am! See you then!

“She seems excited, huh?” Jake laughs, not like he hadn’t noticed Marcs reaction to the text as well. From the tank, he watched Marc plop himself up, grabbing and fixing some clothes from his closet. Trying to figure out what would be best.

“Not like you wear anything different besides a shirt and button up” “Says the guy who wears too many layers and nothing else”

And there they bicker again. Marc groaning and just dropping a light great t shirt onto the chair, along with a pair of jeans and his usual boots. Not like he was one for dressing up anyway, better to go casual right? He figured that was best and got ready for bed. Setting an alarm before he slept.

***************************************

Cellphone. Check. Watch? Check. He combed his hair back, fixed his jeans and tied his boots, grabbing his keys and wallet, and heading out the door. Taking a deep breath while rushing out the door. On the way he’d gotten a thumbs up from Steven, and an small smile from Jake. It was the best he could ask for.

He arrived a few minutes earlier than scheduled, thankful there wasn’t much to deal with on the train, and soon spotted a few figured in the distance. The gentleman, Terra’s cousin, handing the keys and patting the kids on the heads before heading back inside the house.

He’d tensed up a bit but took another deep breath and silently approached them. She looked happy to see them, little Luke hid a bit behind his mothers leg but Leia full on gave a wave and grin. Happy to see him.shed trotted over, throwing on her hood and giving a small twirl.

“I got this outfit from auntie, is it cute?” She asks, big doe eyes gazing up at him.

It was adorable. She was dressed in a red panda onesie,her brother in a matching one. With her twirl he even noticed their costume came with tails. She awaited his answer, and all he could do in response was smile softly at her and pat her head. “It’s adorable” that earned a soft giggle from her. Helping lead her towards her mother.

And with that they were on their way, after setting the kids in their booster seats, Terra drove the entire way there. She’d noticed Marc a little tense now that he’d gotten in the car and buckled himself up, so she once again held his hand in her own. Feeling his hand loosen and ever so slightly grip her own back. She smiles.

“Kinda quiet huh?” She quips, looking back and spotting the twins having fallen asleep, knowing well they always did during car rides.

“I’m sorry, I just, is this really okay? Me being here?” He coughs and gripped her hand a little tighter. Hoping for some reassurance.

Terra smiled a warm smile. He might seem tense but it showed that he really thought about this. “Marc, I wanted you to come, the twins too, I’m happy you’re here”

*********************************

After a long drive, they’d finally arrived. Using a pass her cousin gave her, the twins woke up fast, ushering themselves in and wanting to bolt to the first enclosure.

“Guys! Wait for us!” Terra calls out, holding Marc’s hand to bring him along. He just hoped she didn’t feel how fast his pulse was. The bit of red on his cheeks. He heard a mental quip from his head, snickers, even a jab at his heart racing. ‘Shut it’ he barks back mentally, feeling himself stop and finding the twins climbing the bars of the enclosure.

Terra stepping forward to lend them some support so they wouldn’t fall.

They just observe every stop they could at that point. The twins favorite being the tiger enclosure. Both sitting as still as possible while watching the tiger pace back and forth by the glass. They did let out a small shriek of joy when watching the large cat lay on its side, facing them, the twins bouncing on their heels.

A laugh from their mother.

At the afternoon mark, she’d suggested they get some food. There happened to be a picnic area nearby, searching for her wallet to buy some food, but Marc offered to pay instead. Insisting she had driven them there after all.

Bellies full, they continued on their way, after a quick bathroom break of course.

Now Marc had been offered a hand, Luke’s, and he’d gone along with him behind his sister and mother who’d bolted further ahead at a particular exhibit. The older man looked down and saw the small yawn. His small fist rubbing his eye softly.

“Need a hand little man?” He wonders, not knowing what would he should do in this situation. “M’tired” he got in response.

He got that, felt it in his very being, so he did the only thing he thought was right. “Okay little guy, hold on, I’m picking you up” A small huff, Marc lifted up the child with ease, and set him on his shoulders. Should be a casual thing right? He felt the small hands rest on his head, legs dangling on his shoulders and over his chest. “Better?”

Marc’s heart melted when feeling a hug, and a small nod in response. “Mhmm” was all he heard. Catching up to Terra, he noticed she had Leia in her own arms. The young girl having her smaller arms on her mothers shoulders, struggling to keep her eyes open but to no avail. Small head resting on her shoulder.

“Think we should head back for the day before they become cranky” she insists, patting Leia’s back softly with a small hum.

“Didn’t think they’d fall asleep this fast” “Well, they woke me up early for this, but also got excited you’d be coming along” Terra admits, a small blush of her own. “And honestly, me too” Seeing both twins asleep, she raised up a bit and gave him the softest peck on the cheek. “I’m glad you came along”

Marc could only blush and smile in response.

[trishmishtree]

I finally caved and made the lazy regency stays

It's not that I'm keeping track or anything, but I think this is my 4th attempt at regency stays.

The first time, I made short stays because I figured it would be easy since I wouldn't need to fiddle with the fit over the hips. They turned out fine, and are serviceable. But I think I made the bust cups too deep for my bust size, because the top edge of the stays comes considerably higher up than mid-bust, so it forms a hard ridge that shows through my regency gowns that I had to sew a separate bodiced petticoat to hide.

Then I tried twice to make the Bernhardt stays. The first time failed, for a number of reasons that I detailed here, including the fact that you can't really scale up the pattern correctly when you have scoliosis in your thoracic spine. I also had issues with fitting the bust gores, which is an issue I have with any c0rset that involves bust and hip gores instead of shaped panels. See, the problem is that I have a very, very small chest, so I always felt like I had to take a deep breath and hold it while wearing and trying on stays/mockups. Because if I let that breath out or slouched, my bust would just slither past the bottom point of the bust gores and disappear and flatten into the stays. On my second attempt at the Bernhardt stays, the only way I could get it to work was to just omit the bust cups entirely and use the underbust version of the pattern with the top edge of the stays stabilized by straight-grain tape. It works, but these stays are back-lacing and a pain in the rear to get myself into. I haven't timed it, but I'm pretty sure it takes my at least 5 minutes to adjust the lacing behind me to get the damned thing on, and then I spend another 5 minutes fussing with them because they loosen, and then my bust threatens to slither down again.

So finally, I caved and made the "C0rset a la Paresseuse" which crosses in the back and ties in the front. And lo and behold, just like every other costumer has said, this thing is a game changer. Amazing how stays that are marketed for comfort and ease of travel and uh...invalids...would work so well for a 21st century person with scoliosis who is currently battling a case of costochondritis, innit? Almost like that was the whole point....

I can't show pictures of my in the stays because...I don't think it would be a decent thing to take pictures of? But they are perfect. They give the exact silhouette that I've been trying to achieve through all my previous attempts at regency stays. And they take all of 10 seconds to put on by myself. Like I said. Game changer.

The only problem that this stays pattern didn't solve for me was the aforementioned issue with my bust trying to slither past the bust cups and flatten out. Which, like I've said, is a problem I have with all c0rsets where you have to cut a slit and insert a bust gore, and is more of a me problem than a problem with the pattern.

Turns out, the solution is to add some quilting to the stays so that the bust cups are outlined by cording and for a shelf for your bust to sit on, sort of like the underwire of a bra. The extra stitching along that outline, especially just under the bust, also acts like stay-stitching to stabilize that area and keep it from stretching out, so that my bust can't slither down past it. It's almost like folks back then put cording into their c0rsets in those exact places for a reason.......

I also learned that cording by hand is actually really easy. I can't believe I've never attempted it before, but now I want to do allllll the cording. I might even make one of those 1830s fan-lacing corded c0rsets just for fun, even though I hate 1830s fashion and have no plans to make any costumes from that era.