#tos mayor

[givemerent]

Im bored trolololol

you guys SAW NOTHING.

guys i think he likes me too

[baby-chirp]

I get Mayor TT the one time I was not actively trying to scroll for Mayor TT lol.

Still managed to beat the timer and win this.

[jesterjamz]

Mayor

i put too much effort into this guy

[mukuharakazui]

next i should make a post about escorts

[foresthuntermajrach]

Forgor to share this here, oops.

Doc x vet, PTSD triggers, nasty happens (bjs babyyyyyy). Read tags before proceeding

[emotionalmotionsicknessxx]

So you want to see the 1988 Phantom of the Opera proshot at the New York Public Library...

If you know one thing about me on this internet it's that I love when things are spelled out and easy. This weekend my friends and I went to the New York Public Library (NYPL) Theatre on Film and Tape Archive (TOFT) located at Lincoln Center to watch the Phantom of the Opera proshot. I saw some how-tos and asked friends who have already seen it, but it was still a little confusing and I wanted to clarify how my experience went:

Bottom line: if you can make your way to NYC, you too can see the Phantom proshot from 1988 starring Michael Crawford, Sarah Brightman, and Steve Barton and lose your mind :)

Here's how I did it:

I showed up to the New York Public Library Library of the Performing Arts located at Lincoln Center with my two (2) also phanatical friends. We were vibrating. We went when the archive opened at noon. Hours can be found here.

We were directed to the third floor where the archive is. We had to check our bags (but were able to bring whatever in - I brought my phone, a pen, and a notebook for notes)

We met the sweetest librarian who was so helpful - he got us on computers to apply for NYPL library cards AND special collections cards. If you live in NY, you can get a regular NYPL card. If you are from out of town, they will give you a NYPL visitor card (good for 3 months!) We filled out applications you can find here and here if you are curious about the questions asked. Many questions are optional! Note: there was some scuttlebutt about needing to be a student or researcher or even an expert in the field - you don't need to say why you're there unless you want to! I kept it brief: said I was an independent researcher and there for personal interest. They are just happy people are using our libraries! Sign the letter here to stop the mayor from closing our libraries

Once we had our cards (NYPL Card AND a special collections card/number) we were told to head to the archive, where we met a second, lovely librarian who was excited we were there. You can ask for any show that isn't currently running (sorry Hadestown nation). You can find a list of what they have here. All titles available at TOFT begin with the call number NCOV, NCOX, or NCOW. Note: we did not make an appt ahead of time, and luckily no one was watching Phantom but our friend wanted to watch Great Comet and someone already had it. To avoid this, make an appt. To make an appointment, call (212) 870-1642 or email toft@nypl.org.

We signed off to use the archive and were off to the races! That's it! We were put on three monitors and I controlled the pausing and replaying of the tapes. You can replay as much as you want, and can even ask for other plays/musicals that you want to watch during your session there. I took notes in a notebook, I saw other people taking notes on their phone. There are cameras to make sure you aren't doing any recording or photo taking. Note that you can only see this proshot once without special permission, so if you want to come back you'll need to look into what that permission is.

If you're interested in what was actually IN the beautiful, spectacular, amazing, never before been done proshot (it's from May 25, 1988 by the way) listen to my/our podcast, Leroux Less Travelled!

My inbox is open if you have more questions! I hope this clarifies how easy it is if you're ever in NYC!! We will get through phantom-drought together :)

[robertreich]

The Hard Hat Riot: A Forgotten Flashpoint in America’s Culture Wars

Missing from most history books is a key moment leading to the culture wars now ripping through American politics.

In 1970, hundreds of construction workers pummeled around 1,000 student demonstrators in New York City — including two of my friends. The “Hard Hat Riot,” as it came to be known, ushered in an era of cynical fear-mongering aimed at dividing the nation.

The student demonstrators were protesting the Vietnam War and the deadly shooting of four student activists at Kent State University that occurred just days before.

The workers who attacked them carried American flags and chanted, “USA, All the way,” and “America, love it or leave it.” They chased the students through the streets — attacking those who looked like hippies with their hard hats and steel-toed boots.

When my friends in the anti-war movement called to tell me about the riot later that day, I was stunned. Student activists and union workers duking it out in the streets over the war? I mean for goodness' sake, weren't we on the same side?

According to reports, the police did little to stop the mayhem. Some even egged on the thuggery. When a group of hardhats moved menacingly toward the action, a patrolman apparently shouted: “Give ’em hell, boys. Give ’em one for me!”

The construction workers then marched toward a barely-protected City Hall. Why? Because the mayor’s staff had lowered the American flag in honor of the Kent State dead. In a scene eerily foreshadowing the January 6th Capitol Riots, they pushed their way towards the building.

Fearing the mob would break in, city officials raised the flag.

The hard hats also ripped down the Red Cross banner that was hanging at nearby Trinity Church. They stormed a Pace University building, smashing lobby windows with their tools and beating students and professors.

Around 100 people were wounded that day, many of whom were college students. Several police officers were also hurt. Six people were reportedly arrested, but only one construction worker.

My friends escaped injury but they were traumatized.

The Hard Hat Riot had immediate political consequences. It was, in my opinion, a seminal  moment in America’s culture wars.

Then President Richard Nixon exploited the riot for political advantage. His administration had been working on a “blue collar strategy” to shift white working-class voters to the Republican Party.

“Thank God for the hard hats,” Nixon exclaimed when he heard about the riot.

But rather than passing pro-labor policies to court workers, which would go against the values of the pro-business Republican Party, Nixon sought to use cultural issues like patriotism and support for the troops to drive a wedge between factions of the Democratic Party.

Nixon invited union leaders, some of whom were involved in the riot, to the White House. They presented Nixon with a hard hat inscribed with “Commander in Chief”and an American flag pin. Nixon praised the union workers as, “people from Middle America who still have character, and guts, and a bit of patriotism.”

Nixon’s strategy to use the Hard Hat Riot to appeal to blue collar voters paid off. In his 1972 re-election campaign against the anti-war Democrat George McGovern, he secured a victory with ease and gained the majority of votes from organized labor – the only time in modern history a Republican presidential candidate accomplished such a feat.

The Hard Hat Riot revealed a deep fracture in the coalition of workers and progressives that FDR had knitted together in the 1930s, and the later alliance of Black Americans, liberals, and blue-collar whites that led to Lyndon Johnson’s landslide re-election in 1964.

The mostly white construction workers who attacked the demonstrators had felt abandoned — and forgotten – as the Civil Rights movement rightfully took hold. They felt stiffed by the clever college kids with draft deferments, and burdened by an economy no longer guaranteeing upward mobility.

The class and race based tensions that Nixon exploited would worsen over the next half century.

I witnessed this when I was secretary of labor during the Clinton Administration. I spent much of my time in the Midwest and other parts of the country where blue-collar workers felt abandoned in an economy dominated by Wall Street. I saw their anger and resentment. I heard their frustrations.

Many Democrats, whether they will admit it or not, have not done enough to respond as Republicans have destroyed unions, exacerbated economic inequality through trickle-down nonsense, tried to gut just about every social safety net we have – and stood in the way of practically every effort to use the power of government to help working people.

Today, the right is trying to channel that same anger and violence against the Black Lives Matter movement, the LGBTQ+ community, particularly drag queens and transgender people, and whatever they consider “woke.”

It is the same cynical ploy to instill a fear of “the other” as a means to distract from the oppression and looting being done by the oligarchs who dominate so much of our economy and our politics.

As such, today we face the same questions we faced in 1970:

Will we finally recognize that we have more in common with each other than those who seek to divide us for political and economic gain?

Can we unite in solidarity, and build a future in which prosperity is widely shared by all?

I truly believe that we still can.

[creative-caramel-coffee]

I miss your writing😂 I need me some weems, now idk if you’ll consider writing age regression ? Bc I have another idea if you do.

So r is depressed bc they ran out of medication and forgot to refill it since they’ve become ill (me rn it’s horrid and messing with my head) no one’s seen or heard from r and weems has to do a welfare check. Here she finds a depressed and very sick reader. She knows of readers bad back ground (they are a shifter and was found hanging onto life after being abused in a facility like hydra for shifters) so when r becomes all clingy and very child like it confessed weems. R is so touch starved it’s insane, but with weems rn she’s like a child wanting and craving the affection just needing to be held. So naturally weems does that and that’s how she discovers the fever r has and that r ran out of her meds so weems nurses her better. Oh! Could also add r isn’t sleeping bc of nightmares due to their background?

Sorry for the long request and I’m not even sure it makes sense. I need my Damn pills lmao.

🕯️

A little sick

Pairings: Weems x Reader (platonic)

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: you're sick and regressed.

TW: agre? Sickness, depression, medicine (prescription),

A/n I’ve never written this kind of thing before so tell me if any of its wrong. Cute request tho :) let me know if you like it or want to see more of this kind of thing.

Part 2

Waking up and feeling like your bones were made of lead was not the way you wanted to start the day. It took all of your strength to pull yourself upright. Standing on shaky legs you wobble over to your dresser pulling out the pouch of pills that helped you with the aftermath of the facility and the depression it left. You knew firsthand how bad it could be to be a shapeshifter. Hunted and experimented on. You drew a deep breath pushing the thoughts away and exhaling slowly and shakily.

Unzipping the pouch, you frowned. All the blister packets were empty. You were out. You slouched dejectedly. It was going to be a long day. Yoko had already left for classes and to be honest you didn’t really think you could make it to the wardrobe to get changed let alone all the way to class. You sighed dejectedly and hobbled back to bed and laid down on your back staring at the roof. The feelings were getting harder to push away.

Your chest felt hollow, and you choked back a sob. The last time you were sick … was back there and to be honest you had no idea what would happen if someone found out here.

You zoned out feeling a familiar fuzzy feeling swallow your mind. You tried to push it away which only seemed to make you headache unbearable. The pain was what made you slip. Dropping hard, you felt your body shift. Soon the bed felt much bigger as you curled into a ball and cried. You were tired but scared to sleep, the nightmares seemed to be ever persistent.

You had no idea how long you had been crying, small sobs wracking the tiny body on the bed. Soon a knock sounded on the door.

Weems had had reports all day that you had been absent. Knowing your history with depression she knew it was imperative to do a welfare check as soon as she could. Looking at her calendar she swore. She had a copy if the nurses schedule for meds and prescription refills. Yours were out and it looked like nobody had picked up more for you.

She finally signed off the email she had spent the morning drafting to the mayor. Closing her laptop she toed on her heels, opting to take them off to give her feet a break when sitting and stood smoothing out her skirt. She hurried out the door and to your dorm. Hearing small noises inside she hesitated before knocking, she knew you were in there was was slightly terrified of what she would find inside the dorm.

Hearing the soft knock on the door you wiped a small fist over your eyes and sat up still silent tears running down your cheeks. You waited and heard the door open.

Weems peered into the dimly lit room; the windows still drawn. She saw a small lump on the bed and slowly walked over. The closer she got the more shocked she became. Why was there a toddler in the dorm and why did she look exactly like … y/n?

Small sad eyes looked up at her and sniffled. Weems stood awkwardly not really knowing what to do. She had a suspicion. She knew you were a shifter like herself. She looked down at you and it clicked. It made sense with the amount of trauma you had. You had regressed both physically and mentally to a child. Looking down at the sad child, you looked up at her and extended your arms.

“Up?” You asked with childlike innocence. Weems felt her heart melt. Gently she placed her hands under your arms and lifted you onto her hip. Almost straight away you buried your face in her neck, and she let out a soft gasp.

You were face too warm. Gently she peeled your face from her neck so she could look you in the eyes while she bounced you on her hip. You let out a soft whine at the loss of contact and weems shushed you as she placed a gentle hand against your cheek then forehead.

“Oh honey. Are you not feeling too good right now?” She asked. “Do you feel icky?” She said and you nodded and sniffled, the tears slowing.

“Alright. Well, we are going to get you some medicine then we are going to come back to my place for some sleep.” She said and you whined.

“No sleep.” You pouted and Weems frowned. “Cuddles?” You asked.

“Ok sweet girl you can have cuddles but why no sleep?” She asked.

“Mean dreams.” You pouted and she felt her heart break. Of course, you had bad dreams, that was almost assured with what you had been through. Why didn’t she think of that. Patting you back she used a hand to guide you back to her neck as you put your thumb in your mouth.

Weems winced knowing it probably wasn’t clean but there wasn’t much she could do about it right now and she preferred it to the crying. Holding you on her hip with one arm and the other on the back of your head she saw a small white fluffy thing under your blanket walking over and pulling out the stuffie you brightened as she tucked it between you and her chest as you wrapped you free arm around it.

“Alright honey let’s go get some medicine for you.” She said and left. She knew the school week enough to make sure nobody would see the two of you, God the rumours would be endless if students saw weems with a child. Careful to avoid any class windows Weems made it to the infirmary. As a shapeshifter herself she knew that the doses of medicine would need to match the physical size of the body. Balancing you on her hip she looked into your eyes.

“How old are you sweetheart?” She asked and you looked at her shyly holding up four fingers and puffing your chest out.

“Im four.” You grinned.

“Wow. Big girl huh?” She asked and you smiled wider.

Weems pulled out the bottle of medicine labeled 3-6 and any other supplies she would need. Carefully making her way back to her office she slipped back into her own quarters to take care of you.

You whined as she set you down on the couch but stopped as she lifted you back into her lap. You sure were clingy like this. Measuring out a dose of medicine Weems coaxed you into drinking it which made you stick your tongue out in disgust after.

“Yucky.” You said. Weems chuckled.

“Im sure it was sweet girl.” She said and stroked your hair. You buried your face in her chest and fisted your hands in her shirt.

“Alright bedtime. I think someone needs a nap huh?” She said and you whined.

“Nooo.” You said.

“Alright how about some cuddles instead?” Weems asked and you smiled.

“Cuddles?”

“Yes. Cuddles.”

“Yay cuddles.” You celebrated.

“Alright sweet thing lets go to my bedroom and we can cuddle.” She said knowing you would fall asleep in no time. Curling into her chest more and wrapping you small arms around Weems she felt her heart melt again as she ran her nails up and down your spine. You shivered and enjoyed the touch.

After a few minutes you seemed to be fighting sleep, eyes drooping before flying wide open again with a small whimper.

“Honey whats the matter? Why won’t you sleep love?” Weems asked softly.

“Bad dreams.” You whimpered softly and weems patted your back running her hands through your short hair. It was much shorter than normal probably from the shift.

“Honey, you need to sleep, I’ll be here the whole time. I won’t leave your side, ok? Do you think you could be a brave girl and get some sleep for me?” She asked softly.

Burrowing your face into her neck you nodded and shuffled around to get comfy. Weems knew either way based off how exhausted you seemed you would be asleep soon regards of what you wanted.

And as predicted after about five more minutes weems felt your breath even out against her chest and heard small snores coming from you. She smiled softly down at you and decided then and there she would never let anything hurt you again.

MASTERLIST

[nv-archives]

I've been thinking about creating an interactive comic involving Town of Salem (also because I want to rekindle my passion and bring more content to the first game).

Here's the blog so far

Again, I can't promise that this is going to be fruitful, especially since this is a solo project (I can always try and find people to collaborate with, though that's also not a guarantee).

Feel free to read more if this catches your eye!

About a year ago, I had an idea where I get 14 people to collaborate on a project where I simulate a ToS story (the 15th being the rest of the community). Obviously, I didn't go through with this plan because trying to gather 14 people for this was absurd.

Then, I remembered this idea again and decided to take on a different approach.

InTo(the)Salemulation is... well, a simulation of a Town of Salem game, but it will take the form of a comic with a storyline that is impacted by the choices you make. Do note that:

If you die, there is no going back, and the game will be archived.

The same goes for the decisions you make. It will never be acknowledged until the game is over.

The characters are different in every storyline. Some traits and personalities might get reused, but a character will never appear again in a different one (only as a cameo, a mention, or a passing thought).

Other characters also make decisions, but it's purely RNG and never my own. I will only make it so that they have a logical/in-character reasoning (for example, I wouldn't make a vigilante shoot a revealed mayor), but I will never rig anything else even if it makes the story interesting.

If this looks like something you're interested in coming to fruition, let me know so that I know there will be an audience for it. I don't want this project go live only to be met with crickets. That'd be embarrassing.

Also, a few more things:

I am willing to adopt OCs (with credit ofc, and hey, you get free art too :P)

If you want to collaborate, and idk why, but feel free to DM me all the same

Psst my art commissions are open :3

[apollyonsdarksecrets]

Little Hargrove

Billy Hargrove x F!Reader

Summery: After seeing you with Nancy’s and Steve’s baby it’s all Billy can think about, now it’s only a matter of convincing you.

Warnings: SMUT (MDI) cussing, mentions of babies, pregnancy, unprotected sex, p in v, cream pie, oral (f receiving), pet names used, the name daddy and mama used. I think that’s it but let me know if I miss anything.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

If Billy had to narrow it down to one moment, one instance when the realization hit him like a truck, it would of been when you held that small bundle of pink cotton blankets and wispy black hair.

Nancy and Steve just had their little girl and you were more than excited to hold the fragile little thing. It came naturally to you as Billy watched, his heart beating so hard he was afraid his ribs would be bruised; you cradled her little head, cooing softly at the small grunts the baby made.

“Oh Nance… she is so beautiful.” You had whispered, babbling at the baby as you rocked her, the smile on your face like none he’d ever seen before. And when your bright eyes reached his he knew he was a goner.

That had to be the moment, it had to of been when he realized he wanted a baby with you.

~*~*~*

Billy toed the door to the apartment closed, the smell of dinner pelting him and making his stomach grumble. Peaking around the hall corner he watches you, busy in your element as you hummed swaying your hips to whatever music is in your head.

“Hey, doll face.” Billy steps up behind you, slipping his arms around your waist and crushing you to his chest in a tight hug making you squeal and gasp.

“Hey yourself.” You laugh, swatting his arms with your wooden spoon before opening the lid to the stew you’ve been working on. “Dinner is ready, I’m waiting on the oven to warm up for the rolls though.”

“Sounds good.” Dropping into a kitchen chair Billy spreads out his long legs, relaxing for what felt like the first time today. “Come here.”

You glance over your should with a smile, taking in your fiancé before sauntering over, the over sized t-shirt you’re wearing hanging off one shoulder as you straddle his lap, arms wrapping around his neck.

Billy smiles, hands on your hips situating you how he wants. “There’s my girl… so beautiful.” His blue eyes search your face, watching the light dust of pink coat your cheeks. No matter how many compliments he has given you over the many years of your relationship you still blush like a school girl, giddy at the remarks.

“I missed you today.” You whisper, leaning in and brushing your lips against his, melting into the small kiss as his hands rub up and down your sides.

“Missed you too. You won’t believe who I ran into.”

“Mmmm… the president?” Billy scoffs and rolls his eyes. “No… smaller. The mayor.” You feign shock, hand resting on your chest as you pull back and Billy barks a laugh.

“Jesus woman you are intolerable. I ran into Steve, he had Olivia with him.”

Your face lights up, your smile crinkling your eyes. “Awww that’s awesome. She’s getting so big I can hardly believe she’s going to be a year old!”

Billy hums in agreement, rubbing your hips slowly. “Yeah we talked for a little bit, he was outside the little pizza shop in town while Nancy was ordering. Y’know cuz she’s picky.” You laugh nodding along.

“That she is.”

“But… kinda got me thinking about some things.” Billy’s eyes travel down your body, staring at his hands on your hips, thumbs working soft circles into your skin. You shift slightly, feeling his mood change and your heart picks up a little, anticipation setting into your bones.

“Oh…” Humming softly Billy rests his hand on your abdomen, splaying his long fingers. You let out a nervous laugh, grabbing his wrist and pushing his hand away. Bright blue eyes shoot to yours and your mouth goes dry. Billy looks ready to eat you alive, his pupils blown wide, lust etched into his features. “Y-you’re not serious, are you?”

“And what if I am?” He drags you up his lap, the hard bulge in his pants pressing into your pantie covered mound making you gasp. Arousal shooting up your spine. “It’s all I can think about… thinking about just how pretty you’d look, big and round with my baby inside you. Letting everyone know just who you belong to.”

His tongue darts out, sweeping over his lower lip and you follow the movement. “A… A baby is a lot Billy… It is hard work and there’s so much we have to do. We’re still in an apartment…”

Billy nods, watching the pink staining your cheeks turn beetroot, your hands moving animatedly as you continue to list off all the things people supposedly need for babies. Excuse after excuse flying from your lips.

Dipping his fingers under your shirt he smooths his hand over your stomach, bringing you back to him and silencing your rambling. “Billy…”

“All I know is that when I look at you, I see the woman I want to have a family with, a woman who has given her all to a man who is a grumbling asshole and still loves him everyday.” Tears prick your eyes, one hand resting on his shoulder as the other gingerly touches the hand on your stomach. “I love you, and I want to have a baby with you. We have all the love in the world, a few grand in the bank, we can do this.”

“B-but we aren’t even married yet… we’ve only been engaged a year.” Your voice wobbles, “What will people say?”

“Let them talk, what does it matter? It’s you and me remember?” Billy leans up, brushing his lips across your own, eyes hooded as he scans your face. He can see your resolve breaking, from the way your hand tightness over his to how your breathing has become more shallow.

“You and me.” You repeat, breathing becoming hard as your nose bumps against his. The air is tense and thick, staring into each others eyes when suddenly the ding of the oven startles you. “T-the rolls… dinner.”

Billy’s hips press up into yours making your breath hitch, eyes fluttering closed. “Screw the rolls. Let me make you a mama.”

Something in your stomach ignites at the words and you slam your mouth into his. Tongue, teeth, and lips clashing as Billy gathers you into him and stands, carrying you blindly to the bedroom.

You land on the bed with a gasp, looking up at your fiancé who stares at you with a predatory grin. Your breathing constricts, the weight of your decision sinking in your gut as Billy peals his shirt off revealing his broad chest and softer stomach.

“Hey.” Your eyes shoot to his as he pops the button on his jeans and crawls on the bed between your thighs. “You’re thinking to much.” Billy reaches out, pulling your lip from between your teeth where you unconsciously were chewing the pink skin.

“I’m a little scared.” You admit even as your breath picks up from the feeling of his hands sliding under your shirt to hook his fingers into your panties.

Billy pulls your underwear down easily, your body limp under his heavy gaze. “If you need me to stop, say the word sweet girl… but…” He leans down, planting a soft kiss on your bare pussy making you jolt, hips rising off the bed. Chuckling Billy nuzzles into you, swiping his tongue over your pussy a few times before lifting his head. “But just know… daddy will always take good care of you.”

Your stomach flips, brain going fuzzy at his words and he can see it on your face, how your eyes blow out, the flair in your nostrils. “You’d like that wouldn’t you baby? Want daddy to take good care of you?” You nod, hips grinding down against the mattress, searching for more friction. For more of him.

Billy kisses your stomach, long and soft taking your breath away and melting you into the mattress, before he lays flat on the bed. Thick arms wrap around your thighs from below, trapping you to him as he dips his head, sucking your aching clit into his mouth.

Tossing your head back you moan brokenly, fisting the sheets and squeezing your eyes shut. After years of being together Billy knows just how you like it, just where to poke, and prod, how hard and fast or slow and easy to go depending on the sounds you make.

Even now, as he his tongue slowly lavas your cunt from entrance to clit he chuckles, your whinny little noises increasing as you squirm in his hold. “Billy… fuck please…” You gasp, skin flushing with heat as your walls flutter around nothing, the feeling of being so empty suddenly to much.

“Tell me what you need, baby.” Billy mumbles, muffled slightly as he continues to devour you, fingers leaving indents in your soft thighs.

Your chest feels tight, skin so hot you feel on fire as the words you so desperately want to say stick in your throat. Instead you opt for carding your fingers through his sandy locks and tugging, the slight sting in his scalp making him hiss and look up.

“No, use your words. Tells daddy what you want, otherwise you aren’t going to get it.” Tears brim your eyes as you finally look down your body at him. His expression is serious, yet warm and loving.

This dynamic wasn’t new to either of you, your vocalization always being very important to Billy, but you suddenly felt shy and uncertain, like the first time the two of you ever had sex. What you wanted to ask for would change everything.

“I… I want you Billy.” Your breathy and uneven, gripping the blankets so hard your fingers start to turn numb.

“You’ve got me baby.” He smiles, his chin glistening with your arousal making your stomach clench.

“N-no… I… I want you in me… I… need you.” You mumble out.

Billy makes a mock expression of surprise, your face heating. “Oooh you want me? Like this?” Two fingers trace your opening slipping in easily and curling right where he knows has you coming undone.

You mewl softly, frustration slamming into you even as you drop your head back to the pillows. Billy works you slowly, his smile mean as he teases and pushes you to say exactly what you want. Knowing otherwise you won’t voice it.

You moan, cantering your hips to ease his thick fingers deeper. “I…” You swallow thickly, resolve breaking further as you rut into his hand. “I need you to fuck me. Please, please fuck me Billy.”

And like that his hands disappear, the soft thud of his jeans and boxers hitting the floor before he’s back over you capturing your lips in a heated, demanding kiss. The angry red tip of his cock brushes over your wet slit and you whine into his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist as your hands find his shoulders.

“So needy for me.” Billy chuckles, prepping himself up on one arm as he reaches between the two of you to hide his cock into your cunt. You hold your breath, relishing in the feeling of him stretching you, stuffing you full with gentle thrusts.

It feels so much better with nothing in between your slick walls and his hard cock, Billy’s head falls forward moaning loudly when he’s fully seated inside you. “Fuck… fuck feel so good, such a tight little pussy.” Billy rocks back and forth, giving you shallow thrusts.

“Ah… more… please.” You beg, hips meeting his as you match his slow rhythm.

Billy smiles, lopsided and pussy drunk as he watches your face contort with pleasure. “Yeah? You want more? So greedy for my cum aren’t you baby?” You gasp as he punctuates his words with a hard thrust, jaw slackening and lips curling in euphoria as his pace picks up.

“Yesyesyesyesyes…” You pant, your orgasm building quickly with the added fire of his words. “Don’t stop… please don’t stop.”

Billy is more than happy to comply, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing harsh circles to draw you closer. “M gonna cum in you, gonna fill you up until you’re dripping… Gonna look so pretty pregnant.” He’s babbling much like you are, his orgasm to close but he needs to feel you clench around him, he needs to see you come undone first.

“P-please… please cum in me… want you to.” Tears are spilling over your checks, and the band in your stomach snaps with a low growl from Billy’s throat. You cry out, back arching, nails digging into his shoulders. Your cunt clenches his cock, milking his orgasm from him with a string of cuss words. Billy stills, rutting against you as he explodes, thick cum coating your walls and warming you.

Gasping you open your eyes, piecing blue crashing with yours. Your body beings to shake with your come down, reality flooding you. “I love you.” You blurt, fresh tears springing to your eyes.

“I love you, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He whispers, peppering your face and neck with kisses.

“I know… it’s just overwhelming.” You whisper back, leaning up into each kiss. “I’m happy, I promise, I’m scared but so happy.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Six weeks was all it took before you saw the two blue lines on your pregnancy test. You’d rush into the living room, tears flowing down your cheeks as you crash into Billy’s chest, the man bewildered and anxiety straining his voice as he asks you what’s wrong over and over before he manages to push you at arms length.

“I’m pregnant!” You squeal in delight, his eye widen and he scoops you into his arms, spinning you around with a triumphant laugh. Unshed tears line his eyes as he places you on your feet, cupping the side of your face and gazing down at you with more love and affection than ever before.

“I’m going to be a dad.”

[kissorkill16]

Sly As A Raven: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Enzo investigates the Town Hall.

As Enzo slowly tip toed down the hall of Mayor Tavish's large mansion, he overheard voices coming from the living room.

"Come on now.", said the mayor. "Do you really believe that a bunch of children are capable of interfering with our plans?"

"Yes, I do.", said a gravely voice. "They may just be children to the naked eye, but I see right through them. They're smarter than we think. So you should really watch your back."

Enzo covered his mouth in fear. They're talking about them. They're talking about the group. They were smarter than they looked.

If he weren't so petrified right now, he would've taken that as a compliment.

The mayor sighed, "Alright, fine.", he said. "I'll keep an eye out. But I can assure you that these children may be terrifyingly intelligent for their ages, but they're still dumb little children like you said."

"Dumb little children?!", Enzo felt insulted. "And you just said we were smarter than we looked."

He peeked into the living room, and saw that the mayor was dancing to an old jazz record.

"That should keep him busy for a while.", thought Enzo. And with that, he slowly walked away from the living room, and creeped into the lobby.

He looked all around the large room, but he didn't really find anything that might lead to the identity of Crowface. He didn't know why he thought the mayor of all people would be the raven man, maybe he just wanted to find proof better than "Oh he gave me a B+ on my last assignment!"

...Or maybe because there was a feather sticking out of the wardrobe in the far corner.

He walked to the wardrobe, opened the door, and saw a soft, black, feathered cloak. Next to it was a white beaked mask.

"Crowface doesn't dress like this.", thought Enzo. "Trinity told me he had a long, yellow, dirty beak. And his cloak didn't have feathers."

Whether or not this was the right costume, he pulled from his pocket a camera he got for his birthday last year. He snapped a couple of photos, but panicked when he heard footsteps come into the lobby.

"What is that noise?", asked Mayor Tavish as he walked into the room. "Who the hell is taking pictures in my house? You're interrupting my music!"

As the mayor walked into the lobby, he didn't find anyone. The lobby was completely empty.

He walked towards the wardrobe, and opened it slowly, then quickly. No one was in there.

"Hm.", hummed the mayor. "Must've been my imagination.", he said. He walked back to the living room and turned his music back on.

Meanwhile, Enzo slowly crawled out from under the lobby couch, and tip toed out of the room, out of the house and into the lawn.

Enzo pulled out his walkie talkie, "Trinity, hey. It's me, Enzo. I didn't find any clues to Crowface's identity in the Town Hall, but I found a cloak. It's nothing like you described, but I think the mayor might be one of his accomplices."

No answer. Just static.

Just then, Enzo felt something grab his leg, making him fall to the ground and drop his walkie talkie. When he looked to see what grabbed him, he let out a loud scream.

Crowface.

[moldycalico]

omg shoutout to this old ass trump assassination tos meme i did on a paper and then the teacher collected☠️☠️ i just remembered its existence

i should do that trump pose with mayor and bodyguards itd be so funny

the og pic:

[sapphic-moon-child]

Bumps along the way

Chapter 3: Troubling woods and cold nights

Larissa x Shapeshifter!Reader Pregnant!Reader Pregnant!Larissa

Warnings: Pregnancy struggles, Pregnancy/childbirth, Miscarriages, Mental illness, Swears or curses, Infant Death, Stillborn, PTSD, Panic attacks, Near death experience, Mentions of birth and physical exams, vomiting,

A/N: This story is going to be heavy, it deals with real life situations that most don’t understand the pain of. 1 in 4 women will experience this in their lifetime, remember you don’t know everyone's history.

Chapter 3: Troubling woods and cold nights

Larissa had an appetite for sex like no other and you loved it, she knew how much you loved taking the reins on your bedroom life and how it thrilled you to watch her give up that control. Your home life over the last month has been incredible and healing for you both, finding a new love and many new kinks that brought you together. Your wife was a goddess and worshiping her body was your favorite pastime now. Sometimes a quickie over lunch or a fast one before a long meeting. You knew she craved the release from the stress of her job and you were happy to provide it. 

That was until she all but started avoiding you. She would get irritated quickly and shoo you away while she was on a call. When you would get home she would still be working away in her office and you couldn’t tell what you had done wrong. Larissa had never been anything but kind to you and always made time for you, but the last two weeks she was like a ghost. You decided she must just be stressed and would have a conversation over dinner. You poured two glasses of Merlot and made her favorite meal, Medium rare steak with smashed potatoes and parm glaze and made garlic glazed green beans and a small salad. Everything was perfect: two candles lit and the nice dinner plates out. You bought a dozen roses in pink and red, her favorite and waited on the edge of the sofa for her to come through the door. 

The second she stepped into the door her phone was glued to her ear in a heated debate with someone “Probably the mayor” you think to yourself. You watch as she sheds her coat and slips out of her heels and you hope she turns to you to see the beautiful flowers in your arms for her. Instead though her conversation only turns more heated and you watch her walk right past you and to your bedroom without a second glance. Anger filling your veins you hastily threw the flowers down on the floor and slid into your shoes, without grabbing a coat or your phone you let the door slam behind you. You breathed in the cold night air and let your feet carry you to the woods, tears falling down your face. After what seemed like hours to you, you set down against a tree and let your face fall against your knees sobbing until sleep overcame you. 

Larissa’s POV

The workday was stressful and all I can think about is getting off these damn heels. Everything in my body hurt to touch and the mayor was running me up a wall with all his ranting calls. The students were driving me crazy this week and everything felt irritating. All I wanted was to come home, change out of this tight dress and hug you. While dealing with yet another long call from the mayor and his ranting I frustratingly toed out of my heels and shrugged off my coat and walked into our bedroom to change. Normally Y/N would meet me at the door, but over the last week I know my mood has affected her. “What the hell is wrong with me?” I wonder as I tell the mayor that I am tired and done with this conversation. Hanging up the phone as I pull on a pair of loose jogging pants and a hoodie that I secretly love I hear the front door slam. 

Walking into the living room I see a crumpled bouquet of flowers thrown on the floor and the dinner table set with a beautiful dinner and wine. “How did I not see this before?” I say quietly to myself. I slide on a pair of flats and grab a jacket and open the front door looking around. Your car was still in the driveway, but you were nowhere to be seen. I call out your name, but hear nothing in response. Guilt and worry seeping into my veins… I go back and grab my keys to the school thinking maybe you went to our old quarters upset. Knowing I hurt you pulled my heart in like a vice. I slipped into my office and our old quarters that we kept for night watches and late nights working. Calling out your name, I only hear silence in return. True fear sets in and my feet carry me to the woods. I look for my wife for at least an hour and pull out my phone knowing there are two people that could help me. Dialing the number on my phone knowing the late hour I cringe, but my options are short and fear filled right now. “Principle Weems?” I hear a tired, but cheery voice on the other line. “Enid, I need you and Wednesday. I know that normally I would never ask this of my students, but I’m desperate. I need your tracking skills and Wednesday's brain. Y/N is missing… She… She left the house, but her keys and car are still here and she doesn’t have her phone. I think she’s in the woods.” I choke on my sobs trying to compose myself even just a bit. “Where are you?” I hear Wednesday's dull voice over the line. “ I’m at the woods edge on the east side. Marilynn is on night duty, tell her to come too if you see her.” 

With that in no less than five minutes two students and the red headed teacher are by my side. Marilynn pulls me into a hug and I give them a rundown of what happened. Wednesday already has started to map out the route you could have taken and Enid is trying to pick up a trail. Flashlights in hand we set off into the woods hoping that we can find you before we have to call Sheriff Galpin for a search party. The cold air had turned bitter, and the wind picked up significantly. 

Normal POV

You woke for a few minutes and felt the chill run through my bones. “how long have I been here?” You wonder, but tiredness calls to you and exhaustion fills your brain. You let sleep wash over you, not feeling the cold anymore. Nearing the two hour mark of their search, Wednesday’s voice fills the air. “She’s over here!” You don’t stir from the sounds of yelling or running and don’t register Larissa Pulling you into her chest taking her jacket off and wrapping it around your bare arms. “She's breathing! Darling what were you thinking leaving in only a tee shirt and leggings.” Larissa’s voice is full of panic. “Lars, we need to get her back to the house and get her warm.” Larissa nods through her tears and pulls you into her arms all but running back to your home. The three other women follow and Larissa walks straight to your room sitting down on the bed with you still in her arms. “What do we do Mary?” Wednesday answers instead. “You need to get her out of those cold wet clothes and warm her up slowly. Enid go to the infirmary and get all the hot water bottles and heating pads you can find.” Enid nods and grabs the master keys Wednesday hands her. “When did she swipe those?” Larissa wonders, but can’t seem to care her eyes only on you. Wednesday excused herself so Marilynn and Larissa could get you in warm clothes and tucked into the bed next to Larissa who quickly changed herself. 

Coming back Wednesday brought in a tray of hot tea and a bowl with warm water and a cloth wringing it out. She placed it on your forehead. Enid had returned and filled all the hot water bottles and started handing them to Marilynn to tuck around you and Larissa. You continued to sleep well after the girls had been sent to their dorm and Marilynn refused to leave and pulled out a book and a chair and sat next to your shared bed, telling Larissa to “Sleep, I’ll wake you if she stirs” to which Larissa couldn’t say no to as she was cold and exhausted. About three hours later Marilynn was still reading quietly and sipping a cup of coffee. 

You began to stir, feeling warmth filling your bones, the last thing you remembered was cold. Everything was cold, and then you were tired. You tried to sit up but felt a hand push you back down. “Marilynn?” you questioned yourself, what she was doing in your room. Wait, why were you in your room? You left… “Shh calm down, you're safe, you're okay and at home. You almost died of hypothermia, but we found you in time. Just rest hun. Do you want a drink?” The redhead kept her voice low, and nodded to a sleeping Larissa next to you, poor thing was so tired she didn’t even stir at your movements. “Yes please” you croaked out hoarsely. She got a glass of water from the night stand and let you drink your fill before taking the cup back. “What happened?” You meekly asked? “What do you remember?” She asked back “I…I was upset, I made dinner and got flowers for Larissa. She has been so cold and distant, I wanted to surprise her. When she got home she didn’t even see me waiting with flowers or the table set. She… just walked on… I got mad and went for a walk, and then I remember being cold, and waking up here…” You were confused by all the events that happened. 

“Oh dear, Y/N… you were missing for 4 hours. We couldn’t find you, we being Enid, Wednesday, Larissa and I. When we did find you, you were unconscious and barely breathing. Larissa was a mess, she was fretting until we found you.” You had silent tears running down your cheeks, and gladly took the tissue she offered. “Can I ask you something Y/N?” She asked softly, checking that Larissa was still asleep. You nodded and waited for her to ask. “Has Larissa seemed off for about two weeks? I’ve noticed she’s been short with the students, as well as the staff. That and a few days ago, she dashed off from a meeting looking rather green… I don’t think she's feeling herself.” You processed her words for a moment thinking about your answer. “Oh I feel so dumb, it's her cycle. No wonder she’s been off. I’ll talk to her tomorrow, but I am rather tired. You should go get some sleep. I'm okay, you can stay in the spare room tonight if you’d like and I can text you if I need anything or you can take my set of keys and go home that way you can get in if you need too.” Knowing that was going to be your only option to get the woman to actually sleep. “I think i'll go back home, but i'll leave my ringer on and come back in the morning to check on you.” She said softly seeing that you were on the mend. Soon you fell asleep until morning cuddling your wife.

[breezybeej]

You

Have Got

To Be

Kidding Me

Let me try to express myself better.

When Spock grasps Kirk's hand, it's incredibly layered. Others can give a better summary of the structure of TMP than I can so I'll try to just do broad strokes.

Spock has been away. He left Kirk to go do Vulcan shit and forget how to feel emotions but he can't bring himself to do it. He's needed elsewhere. Kirk and Spock reunite after their extended separation and there's immediately a certain animosity. It almost feels like Spock blames Kirk for him being unable to commit to his Vulcan ritual.

During all this, the B plot is of a couple. They have friction arising from their lifestyles and dedication to duty. Much like Kirk and Spock had for 3 seasons of TOS. The woman gets 'brainwashed' (WAY OVERSIMPLIFYING) by the threatening seemingly unstoppable ancient entity. She loses her humanity*, her emotions and tenderness. She's all logic, no passion. Just like spock.

Plot happens, Spock communes with this entity and is knocked unconscious. He comes to with tears in his eyes, he's expressing emotion in ways we've rarely seen from him. He tells us that he knows what the big bad has been seeking. "This grasps hand simple feeling. "

An aside to explain Vulcans and touch. Spock (allegedly) tries to avoid touching people as much as he can. Vulcans are touch telepaths. Even when he does touch, it is (again, allegedly) small contacts, fingers only, or through fabric.

He grabs James Kirk full on by the hand and... Does what? Why he uses that touch telepathy to channel "this feeling" into him. To directly explain it. And what was that feeling? Why love of course. That is what this entity was trying to understand all along. That is why it 'brainwashed' the lady because she loved her man and it wanted to understand.

This hand holding is like. The Big Gay Moment in Star Trek (aside from Amok Time). It's one of the big symbols in shipping (I think back then they were still calling it slash?). It has to be one of the most well known fandom gay things. surely. It was the blueprint.

But BJ, I hear you say, there's only so many ways two people can hold hands. It can be a coincidence.

Point 1: why was the device Mayor Dick gave Faith designed such that she had to grab Buffy that specific way. They could have had any number of methods but they chose one that necessitated the hand clasp.

Point 2: Vulcan telepathy has the Mind Meld. The two parties merge minds fully. Once you become each other, you feel what that person feels. Their thoughts become yours. You embody them fully. That is what happens to Faith in these two episodes. and like a mind meld, it is dangerous. She nearly loses herself and when she comes back out, she is changed. Buffy is also changed.

Point 3: How do they swap back? With a Katra? What is a Katra?

Well. that's a star Trek thing. It is what my best friend Sarek up there said: your essence. Everything about you that is not physical: your thoughts and emotions and experiences. Vulcans can actually implant their Katra into someone else. And over time, they will start to manifest in the personality and actions of that person. They will gradually become them.

And that is what happens to Faith

Look, I don't know how strongly I can express the importance of the Kirk and Spock hand grasp. I need Star Trek fans to come in here and back me up. This is making me insane. Please tell me I am not the only person seeing this Doug Petrie, I need to talk to you. Douglas. Come Here.

[laughing-with-god]

What type of fashion do you think victor bts would wear including victor jungkook

oooh loves this q, if your gonna shift into my universe you prob need some visual help lmao! (i fully expect a report when you do!)

but this is roughly how I picture them;

Jin

I think Jin had a good fashion sense even before the games. his dad was the mayor of District One so I think he's always had to dress "presentable". I don't see him as a fashionista, but he does care about brands. if he was in our modern universe, he'd be the type to find Gucci very tacky and obnoxious but love Hermes and Ralph Lauren. classy and understated. honestly very "old money, country club" vibes. jin is a nepo baby lol

Jimin

there are two jimins - the one at the capitol and the one at district four. when he's in the capitol, he wears whatever his designer team arranges for him. he has lots of sponsors, and many are fashion brands so he's obligated to wear clothes or accessories from those brands. his team likes to market him as very chic and clean, lots of suits with the undershirt open to show his chest. however, when he's at home or just being himself, i think he's very in touch with his ocean roots. i see him in a "surfer boy" aesthetic, pearls, seashells, and free-flowing tops. in my universe, District Four is like a Florida or tropical place- so it's always sunny and hot.

namjoon

sweater vests. turtle necks. slacks. this is it. mainly in black, sometimes blue. very dark academia. does not really understand fashion and just wants to look as smart as he is. feel like he'd also be one of the victors who fired his designer team right away because he didn't get the point and hated being treated like a doll. sometimes he wants to try out diff styles but ultimately I see him being a creature of habit and being like "nah"

Hoseok

poor boy just wants to be cozy and warm. I think I had his games take place in the Arctic? so I think he'd be like really hypersensitive to the cold now. he feels one chill and he'll want to die. he would love oversized sweaters and cardigans. I can see him wearing lots of neutral colors too, browns and creams with hints of green here and there. Very 'coffee shop boyfriend' vibes. also think he's such older bro that he'd carry a lil fanny pack or bag all the time, he carries little snacks and stuff just in case his siblings ever need anything

Taehyung

tough one. I don't think he'd give a shit tbh. but he's from 11 and it's all about agriculture, so i feel like farmer vibes? like boyish cottage core. feel like he likes loose shirts as well, tae doesn't like feeling constricted so no tight clothes. also feel like he loves rolling his pants up and walking around barefoot. country boy to the core.

Yoongi

hoodies, loose fitting and oversized. likes beanies too. I think he has bad blood circulation and as a kid didn't get great access to food, so he's prob anemic and smaller than his Victor counterparts. a lil insecure about it so he covers it up with baggy clothes. another one that prefers darker colors like grey and black. capitol ppl are known for their colorful clothes since they can afford them, and yoongi isn't tryna associate with that.

Jungkook

i never made a victors revenge jk since i didn't know if i was just going to make it qq jk when he won the games lol. either way, i'm sticking with district two for him. so def a career and def a lil cray. i think he'd enjoy looking as intimidating as possible, fully leaning into the 'bloody thirsty career' reputation he has. I see him getting tats and piercings and wearing things like leather jackets and steel-toed boots. probably like "grunge" or "cyberpunk" aesthetic??

[kratosnaturals]

WIP Saturday Thursday #5

Because I am positively on a roll right now. Nick lovers rise up.

“That ash is going to burn your shirt, Nicky,” Hancock mentioned casually with a hint of upturned lips, putting out his own cigarette on the bar’s ashtray. Nick snapped out of his thoughts with a questioning hum. He removed the rolled tobacco from between his lips with the intend of flicking off the burned excess, but when the orange embers landed on his chest he mumbled out an annoyed ‘shit!’ and quickly tried to brush it off of the white fabric. His friend simply gave him an amused ‘told you so.’

“You’re acting odd tonight. Even more than usual,” Hancock breached carefully, following the other man's gaze, “penny for your thoughts?”

Nick stalled. Was he really acting strange? He always thought he’s good at hiding his feelings… or perhaps Hancock was simply teasing him. The mayor did so love riling people up.

“Simply a little worn out after the past few months,” Nick brushed off, focusing his eyes on all the strung up lights around the area now. An understanding hum slipped Hancock’s lips, and the synth assumed their conversation would end there, but his companion had other plans. A toothy grin slowly spread across Hancock’s lips, and those metaphorical cogs in his head started moving. He poured himself another finger or two of whiskey, and slipped just a little closer to Nick.

“So. Are you really going to let mister ‘lasts-a-minute’ and the former tin woman upstage you?” Hancock asked innocently, bumping his hip into Nick’s. The latter looked bewildered now, as much as his synthetic flesh allowed him to grimace his displeasure. A grumble, low and a tinge threatening, “John.”

Jackpot, John thought, that hit a nerve. It was absolutely no surprise, to anyone, really, that the smooth-talking sleuth held a torch for his new co-detective. Those two could be fucking out in the open and it would be less obnoxious than whatever weird game of ‘will-they-won’t they’ those idiots were playing for ages now.

“I’m just sayin’. It’s really obvious,” John tutted, no longer feigning that poor display of innocence. Nick stirred uncomfortably besides him.

“John-”

“Are you going to keep doing this ‘I’m an old synth’ spiel or are you actually going to…” Hancock paused, looking the other man up and down, “steel up and tell the ‘dame’ she gets your coolant pumps workin’ overtime?”

Nick opened his mouth, but Hancock cut him off again with a raised finger as he took a quick sip, “don’t ‘John’ me, sleuth. Now get your rusty ass and loose screws over there and ask her for a dance.”

Another song played on the radio. Rock and roll. The synth nearly crushed the glass he was still holding with his metal hand. His claws scratched the material with a squeak that made him cringe, “I- no. I think you’re misunderstanding something.”

Hancock huffed, “Do I? Because to me it seems like you’re both just dancing around each other. Are you going to keep stalling and watch her get swept up by someone else? Well, she doesn’t seem all too shy, so maybe you could wait. I’m sure she’d come around. No promises, though.”

With a sombre expression Nick went back to watching his frolicking friend among the crowd, still held by Curie. The two swung and tip-toed around to the upbeat music with glee, ignoring the world around them. She danced, and danced, and danced. Much like she did with Preston, and Nate, and Piper, and even Codsworth-

“You know, for the best detective the Commonwealth has to offer, you’re really dense. Even denser than the metal you’re made out of, brother,” said Hancock before finishing his drink in one big gulp, “well, if you’re not planning to go for it, I might as well shoot my shot. Sir ‘short, pale and handsome’ has been touchy with not just you, Nicky.”

She liked being called sir?

That train of thought quickly spiralled off of its rails at the thought of John getting handsy with Eliza; wooing her, seducing her, getting with her-

It made his mechanical insides churn. It made him sick.