#but now he returned being a smol bean again

[fluffallamaful]

Nobody realized just how much of a pushover Dream had been early-SMP until Foolish took over.

Dream had basically two rules: no griefing and no stealing. (Characters canonically don’t know about the end, so we’re ignoring that one.) And he barely enforced either of them. Foolish, on the other hand, has a list of rules and very strict punishments for each one. And now everyone gets to confront just how lax the previous “tyrant” had been with them a la Foolish being an ABSOLUTE MONSTER.

- Quackity steals Bad’s stuff for fun, just like he normally does. Dream maybe used to try and talk it out, before he was…uh. Anyway, Foolish shows up and picks the duck hybrid up by the collar of his shirt, forcing him to give everything back to an irate Bad before sitting down and doling out a good thirty minutes of tickles. Quackity begs for mercy at several points, but the rules and their consequences were all marked down fair and square. (Bad is watching with a satisfied grin on his face from nearby. Bout time the man got what he deserved.) (Foolish offers to let Bad, as the wronged party, join in. He steps back and even uses his godly magic to hold him down effortlessly, as if with invisible cuffs. Quackity gets his first real taste of just how torturous demonic claws can be.) (His sides, the soles of his feet, and the backs of his knees are all terrible, but it’s his wings that end up being the worst. So of course it’s where Bad sticks around.)

- Sapnap attempts to burn down Ponk’s lemon tree again. He barely even gets started before Foolish shows up behind him, puts out the fire effortlessly and then pins him to the ground. (For such a fiery, competitive little shit, it turns out Sapnap can’t stand having his tummy tickled. Foolish coos about it being a very cute death spot.) (Foolish nibbles into his ribs for a few minutes. Sapnap is full on sobbing by the end of it.)

- Dream gets stalked a bit for the first few weeks by hunting parties. Then Foolish finds out just as they’re about to catch him. The perpetrators are given the wrecking of their lives.

- Misbehavior is still rampant, even if things are slowly getting better. Foolish starts getting creative.

SOUPIE POOPIE!!!! 😭 tue return of the brotherly foolish au :D

yes it’s not really talked about enough how lenient dream was with his rules when it came down to it. it took quite a fair bit of prodding for him to snap, and it was even after he had explained himself several times

so indeed how incredibly confusing for some of our arrogant little smol bean characters to have someone actually go forth with their ruling

(more belwo)

🦙🦙🦙…

i still constantly think about how you had quackity try to remain defiant against foolish. like purposely breaking the rules just to prove himself, and trying his hardest not to break or give in. and AH bbh as a ler is soooo much fun coz you can imagine how teasy he’d beeeee. and also how he’d be trying to make quackity say things that pressed foolish’s buttons further. like it’s an extra layer of concentration required for quackity to not fall for bbh’s tricks (also my god the nails on the soles 😵‍💫😵‍💫 weeeeeeeee)

and SAPPY!!!! i feel sappy would do the same thing right? like he’d try and defy foolish and hold back his defeat? but then i hardcore hc that with sap he’s just so quick to break and go squeaky with tummy tickles 🥺 it’s such a cute spot for cooing as well. like sap just gets absolutely tormented and he can’t do anything to stop it coz those were simply foolishs rules.

i have the image in my head of sap whimpering out little giggled pleads and foolish doing his “oh reaaally?! that’s crazy. too bad you broke the rules then huh!” also the rib nibbblesssss 😖 or ribbles as i liek to call them :D i also hc sap to have super tickly ribs 😍 just any spot that makes him curl is the one i hc him to have lmao. armadillo boy. pangola.

“creative” you say 👀 where’s you mind going here soupie 👀 how intriguingggggggfggg

🦙🦙🦙…

#soup the destroyer #Soups Brotherly Foolish AU #llama asks #lee!quackity #lee!sapnap #ler!foolish #ler!badboyhalo

[tinyangryhedgehog]

i think lucas looks extra tiny from the others' povs

#like i thought he has grown up during season 3 #but now he returned being a smol bean again #i dont understand #how does this work #it makes me cry #skam france #lucas lallemant

[queenshelby]

The Policeman’s Daughter – Part One

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warning: Mention of Attempted Suicide and Abuse

Notes: The fic plays a year after Grace’s death. It will be quite dark as Tommy still struggles with PTSD and Grace’s death and the Reader has struggles of her own.

London, 1 August 1924

For the past three years, it has only been you and your father, living in London in a small suburban house.

Whilst you were in your early twenties, your father was very protective of you. You were his only child and you couldn’t stay out of trouble.

You had moved out of his house momentarily when your mother had passed away but soon had no choice but to return when the relationship you had formed with a young man at the time had turned bad.

Ever since your experience with that man, you lost faith and you lost trust. A year of abuse had gone unnoticed until the day your life had changed forever.

It was 1 August 1922 and you remembered that day, every day and every night. The nightmare you had to endure that day would stay with you forever. Every time you glanced into the mirror and saw this big scar across your stomach, you saw a stark reminder of that day. Every night you went to sleep, you were woken up by a nightmare, reliving exactly what happened to you to that day.

The worst of it all was that the man who did this to you and the men who watched walked free. He was the son of a judge who helped to cover it up. The abuse, the shooting, everything.

You were left with the burden of it all and, at one point several months ago, you even considered to leave this world behind, to join your mother wherever she was.

But your father, he saved you that day you tried to take your life and ever since then, he had his eyes on you, ensuring your safety.

Ironically, it was on 1 August 2024 that he made you a promise. A new life and a new home, in Birmingham.

‘Why Birmingham. It’s an industrial town. There is nothing there’ you wondered.

‘I have been assigned a new job, investigating a criminal syndicate in the area. I cannot tell you anything else about it. Its for your safety. But I have requested a house in the outskirts for us to stay at and security. It will be safe’ your father explained and you knew that he was probably right as, currently, he was investigating several killings in London and certainly had become a target.

Birmingham, 1 September 1924

Over the past two weeks, you made your new house a home.

Your father didn’t lie when he said that your new house was in the outskirts of the city. The nearest factory was a twenty-minute drive away and your property was surrounded by fields and bushland.

For days, you had been exploring the area, spent time at the nearby river, hunted and gathered.

‘I sometimes wish that your mother wouldn’t have taught you her customs’ your father chuckled when he finally found you.

You stood in front of him, your boots covered in dirt, leaves stuck in your hair while you prepared dinner outside over the campfire near the river.

‘Bi kashtesko merel i yag’ you said, pointing to the pile of wood besides him. But you knew that he had never learned your mother’s language.

‘You know, we do have an oven my love’ he laughed.

‘Doesn’t taste the same coming out of the oven’ you smiled, offering him a seat on the blanket besides the fire as you did.

‘I suppose you are right’ he said, taking some of the meat and vegetables.

‘When I was walking today, I came across an orphanage. It is on the hill a few miles from here. I was wondering if, perhaps, I could seek employment there’ you suggested to your father and, to your surprise, he was in agreement.

Birmingham, 5 September 1924

Your employment was approved within no time and, whilst the position didn’t pay well, it was satisfying to you to work with children in need.

The orphanage was established through the Grace Shelby Institute and housed over thirty children.

To your surprise, unlike there is with most orphanages you had visited and volunteered at, there was no involvement from the church.

It was well furnished, featured a large library and the children were well dressed.

There were two young children in particular who caught your interest. Their names were Adam and Lenny, two brothers who just loved to explore.

It was on your first day that they had, again, disappeared from the orphanage much to the disapproval of the educators, which the children called ‘aunts’

‘The twins are lost again’ one of the aunts said quickly just as she heard a car pull up in front of the orphanage.

‘They aren’t lost, they are exploring’ you said calmly, but the aunts weren’t calm at all as they watched a well dressed and very handsome man and a very attractive brunette woman step out of their grey Bentley.

‘Listen, I know where they might be. Let me fetch them, alright?’ you offered and the eldest aunt nodded quickly in approval before greeting the two well-dressed strangers.

‘Mr Shelby, Mrs Grey, please common with us’ the woman said and, just as she did, the man’s eyes locked with yours for a moment as he walked past. You couldn’t recall having ever seen eyes that intensively blue before. They were almost hypnotising.

After quickly collecting your thoughts, you made your way to the nearby forest and, just as you had expected, the twins were by the river.

You spent ten minutes with them, exploring and preparing them for the aunts’ disapproval for their behaviour, before winding them up and making them follow you back to the orphanage.

‘Next time, sneak out a little more carefully’ you said to them with gypsy tongue before giving them a wink and shewing them back inside, not expecting to be understood by the handsome stranger smoking besides the door.

‘They need to learn how to cover their tracks, eh?’ the man said in gypsy tongue and you swallowed harshly, embarrassed and concerned for your employment at the same time.

‘I am sorry, they just want to be outside, not cooped up in here. But I shouldn’t have suggested…’ you went on to say, but the stranger interrupted you.

‘There is no need to apologise Love. I am gypsy too, I understand’ the man said with a smile before introducing himself to you.

‘I don’t think we have met. My name is Thomas Shelby’ he said, shaking your hand.

‘Y/N YL/N’ you responded shyly before noticing the familiar surname. ‘Are you involved with the Grace Shelby Institute?’ you asked, looking at the sign displayed behind you.

‘Grace Shelby was my wife. Me and my family established the charity following her death’ the man explained.

‘I am so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked such an intrusive question’ you murmured, but the man assured you that your question wasn’t intrusive at all.

You talked with the handsome stranger for quite some time before, eventually, the dark-haired woman came out of the building, ready to leave.

‘May I see you again Miss YL/N?’ the man then asked shamelessly, causing the woman, known by the name of Polly Grey, roll her eyes.

‘Yes, where?’ you said somewhat nervously. You were surprised when these words left your lips all so eagerly as, until now, you hadn’t built up the courage again to even consider involving yourself with a man.

‘I will find you’ the man said, winking at you as he did, before saying goodbye to you in gypsy tongue.

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#tommy shelby smut #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby imagine #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine

[misscarolineshelby]

Spanked

Part Two: First Day

Pairing: Modern Tommy Shelby x Reader Words: 1,345 Warning: None…This is only the beginning!

Original Blog: @queenshelby (this is just my backup account as I have been having Tumblr issues)

When you told your friends and roommates about what had happened to you that morning, they couldn’t believe it.

Whilst you were excited to be working for one of the largest enterprises in the UK, they were more intrigued by the fact that you were going to work directly for Thomas Shelby who was a well-known business man and who was quite popular with the ladies across the country.

The 39-year-old had quite a reputation which is what attracted these women. But you decided that you wouldn’t be one of them.

According to your friend, he was the perfect mix between an elegant business owner and a working a class man. He was different to many others out there and, unlike the other men in charge of other big corporations in the UK, he had built his wealth by himself.

Of course, when you read his name on the business card, you remembered reading the rumours in the papers. According to the London Telegraph, he was said to be involved in some illegal businesses as well and it was believed that he had built his empire through drug trafficking and illegal race fixing. But these were just rumours. Thomas Shelby hadn’t served any prison time and was never convicted of any crimes. It was only his brother, Arthur Shelby, who was charged with two murders but never convicted.

He was also involved in politics, having acted as an MP until it became too boring for him. Luckily for him, he maintained connections to other politicians and judges and, miraculously, he had no problems getting licences for any and all of his business operations.

But none of this bothered you much. You saw this job as an opportunity and stepping stone of some sort.

***

Despite your lack of interest in the man himself though, you listened to your friend’s advice when it came to appropriate office attire.

‘You cannot possibly wear this’ your roommate said as she watched you put on a grey coloured suit and a black blouse.

‘That’s what you wear to an office though’ you said somewhat confused while looking into the mirror.

‘Men like something to look at. At least wear a dress and show some legs. You never know, you might even find your prince charming’ your roommate then said with a cheeky smile before disappearing into her room and returning with three dresses for you to choose from.

Of course, she had a point. You had been single for two years and, before that, you had one boyfriend who was just as nerdy as you were. He was your first and your last.

After trying on all three dresses, you chose an elegant knee length black dress but, when you put on some stockings and shoes, your roommate shook her head again.

‘Oh god no. Please let me style you’ your roommate insisted.

‘No, I don’t have time’ you huffed out, looking at your watch.

‘I will style you up for your first day and then I will call you a taxi. I will use my father’s credit card. He won’t even notice’ your roommate said and, after some convincing, you reluctantly agreed.

Your roommate quickly found some suspenders and stockings in her draws and made you put them on. Then, she looked for some shoes, but none of the ones she owned would fit you.

Eventually, she found a pair of black high heels in your other roommate’s wardrobe who, luckily, had the same shoe size as you.

Finally, she applied your make up and straightened your hair. It looked perfect and she was certainly impressed with her own work.

‘Holy shit, I am fucking awesome’ your roommate then said and you couldn’t help but laugh.

‘I look good’ you said somewhat surprised as you looked into the large mirror in your bedroom.

‘You fucking do. Go and get yourself a suitor’ she teased you and you shook your head.

‘No, I am there to work, not to flirt. Despite, I don’t even know how to flirt’ you admitted and your roommate couldn’t help but giggle.

***

When you arrived at the offices of Shelby Company Limited, you were greeted by a tall dark-haired woman who showed you to your new office.

It was near the reception area and you were surprised by the layout of the building. Everything was made of glass and the floors looked like marble. It was incredible.

Lizzie explained to you how things worked around the office and told you that you would be reporting to a man by the name of Michael Grey.

‘I thought I will be reporting to Mr Shelby’ you said somewhat surprised, causing her to laugh.

‘Sweetheart, please don’t flatter yourself. You are here on your merit but no one new reports directly to Mr Shelby apart from me and Michael Grey. He only likes to deal with people he knows and trusts’ Lizzie said before handing you your office swipe card and a stack of files for you to look at it.

Just as you sat down and Lizzie took a seat right next to you, talking you through the accounting software the company uses, you saw Tommy enter the reception area.

He was accompanied by a tall blonde woman who was wearing expensive clothes and was carrying a Louis Vuitton handbag.

‘Who is this?’ you asked curiously, causing Lizzie to look up from the computer.

‘Elaine Sutton. Apparently, she is the flavour of the month. He likes attractive women who don’t talk much, which makes her perfect’ Lizzie chuckled, seemingly annoyed by the woman.

‘How did you become Mr Shelby’s personal assistant?’ you then asked and Lizzie chuckled again.

‘I’ve known Thomas since he was eighteen. I used to be married to his brother, John Shelby, before he passed away’ Lizzie said and you were surprised by her directness and openness about it.

‘Any more questions or can we get back to work now?’ she then said and you apologised to her immediately.

***

Throughout the day, you developed an investment scheme to lower the tax rates the company was otherwise required to pay in the next financial year. This was what you had mentioned to Tommy at the café and you assumed that it was what he wanted you to do when Lizzie handed you the relevant files.

As you were working through them one by one, you also became to notice that Tommy himself was quite the talking point between the women in the office.

His blue eyes, his expensive suits and what tie he was wearing was on today’s agenda in the lunchroom and you couldn’t help but be amused.

Then, all of a sudden, there was dead silence. The room went quiet and no one said a word as the man himself entered the lunch room.

‘Can I get you anything Mr Shelby?’ one of the service employees asked nervously.

‘Can you tell me where the cable ties are kept, please?’ he said in his low gruffy voice and, just when the employee nodded and told him that she would fetch some for him, he approached you.

‘Office attire suits you much better than coffee-stained clothes Y/N’ he observed, causing you to swallow harshly, smile and nod.

‘Thank you for the opportunity, Mr Shelby’ you stammered out in response just as the service clerk returned with some cable ties for Tommy and he walked off.

‘He knows your name’ a short brunette woman observed. ‘I’ve been working here for a year and he hasn’t even noticed me’ she then said before offering you a cup of tea which you gladly accepted.

‘Well, I spilled hot coffee onto him yesterday at the Coffee Bean Café across the road which probably made stick’ you said somewhat embarrassed, causing the woman to laugh before introducing herself to you.

Her name was Emily and she was also working in the business advisory department. Just like you, she was smart and nerdy and you knew that you would be getting along well.

Tag List:

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#Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x you #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #modern thomas shelby #modern tommy shelby #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n

[istumpysk]

Operation Stumpy Re-Read

AGOT: Bran VI (Chapter 53)

Lord Rickard himself led them, his sons Harrion and Eddard and Torrhen riding beside him beneath night-black banners emblazoned with the white sunburst of their House. Old Nan said they had Stark blood in them, going back hundreds of years, but they did not look like Starks to Bran. They were big men, and fierce, faces covered with thick beards, hair worn loose past the shoulders. Their cloaks were made of skins, the pelts of bear and seal and wolf.    

Must be the male line, because Alys Karstark is described as looking similar to Arya.

Starks are smol beans, confirmed.

+.+

Only two days ago one of Lord Bolton's men knifed one of Lord Cerwyn's at the Smoking Log.

Oh look, a Bolton man knifing an ally.

+.+

"Don't act the boy with me, Bran," Robb said.

(...)

He was using the voice of Robb the Lord when he said it; Bran knew that meant there was no appeal.    

The dichotomy between man and boy is a persistent theme with all male Starklings.

+.+

"Twelve thousand men, or near enough as makes no matter."

(...)

"He must march soon, or not at all," Maester Luwin said. "The winter town is full to bursting, and this army of his will eat the countryside clean if it camps here much longer.

Tell me again how on top of all their own people, Winterfell will host three dragons, eight thousand Unsullied, and every man from every khalasar during winter.

Almost like that was bullshit.

+.+

The only tricky part was doors. Sometimes Hodor forgot that he had Bran on his back, and that could be painful when he went through a door.     

I know what this is referring to, but I’m not sure how.

+.+

His baby brother had been wild as a winter storm since he learned Robb was riding off to war, weeping and angry by turns. He'd refused to eat, cried and screamed for most of a night, even punched Old Nan when she tried to sing him to sleep, and the next day he'd vanished. Robb had set half the castle searching for him, and when at last they'd found him down in the crypts, Rickon had slashed at them with a rusted iron sword he'd snatched from a dead king's hand, and Shaggydog had come slavering out of the darkness like a green-eyed demon. The wolf was near as wild as Rickon; he'd bitten Gage on the arm and torn a chunk of flesh from Mikken's thigh. It had taken Robb himself and Grey Wind to bring him to bay. Farlen had the black wolf chained up in the kennels now, and Rickon cried all the more for being without him.    

Noo the baby. :(

But also, clues?? Rickon vanished, half the castle searching for him, and when they found him he was in the... crypts? No, I don’t like that.

BUT he’s also fighting with a king’s sword, aided by his demon direwolf?

Man, I don’t know! I’m going to ask the audience.

+.+

Stout, grey-haired Maege Mormont, dressed in mail like a man, told Robb bluntly that he was young enough to be her grandson, and had no business giving her commands … but as it happened, she had a granddaughter she would be willing to have him marry.

x

Lord Cerwyn means to take his daughter south with us. To cook for him, he says. Theon is certain I'll find the girl in my bedroll one night.

Want to know how I know something was terribly off about Jon and Sansa’s storyline on the show? While attempting to secure allies for two separate wars, at no point did anyone petition for marriage.

+.+

"She says Father conspired at treason with the king's brothers," he read. "King Robert is dead, and Mother and I are summoned to the Red Keep to swear fealty to Joffrey. She says we must be loyal, and when she marries Joffrey she will plead with him to spare our lord father's life." His fingers closed into a fist, crushing Sansa's letter between them. "And she says nothing of Arya, nothing, not so much as a word. Damn her! What's wrong with the girl?"                 

Bran felt all cold inside. "She lost her wolf," he said, weakly, remembering the day when four of his father's guardsmen had returned from the south with Lady's bones. Summer and Grey Wind and Shaggydog had begun to howl before they crossed the drawbridge, in voices drawn and desolate. Beneath the shadow of the First Keep was an ancient lichyard, its headstones spotted with pale lichen, where the old Kings of Winter had laid their faithful servants. It was there they buried Lady, while her brothers stalked between the graves like restless shadows.

Robb, you’re a bright young man, surely you could figure out if your father is imprisoned, your sister is not the one composing these letters. Not your best moment.

She lost her wolf. :(

+.+

She had gone south, and only her bones had returned.

People loved to use this as a predictor for Sansa’s future. How could they not see it’s screaming Lyanna?

+.+

A faint wind sighed through the godswood and the red leaves stirred and whispered. Summer bared his teeth. "You hear them, boy?" a voice asked.    

(...)

"No, stay," Bran commanded her. "Tell me what you meant, about hearing the gods."                 

Osha studied him. "You asked them and they're answering. Open your ears, listen, you'll hear."

Is it the Old Gods or is it something else?

Brandon the Builder sought the aid of the children while raising the Wall. He was taken to a secret place to meet with them, but could not at first understand their speech, which was described as sounding like the song of stones in a brook, or the wind through leaves, or the rain upon the water. - TWoIaF

+.+

Maester Luwin sighed. "I can teach you history, healing, herblore. I can teach you the speech of ravens, and how to build a castle, and the way a sailor steers his ship by the stars. I can teach you to measure the days and mark the seasons, and at the Citadel in Oldtown they can teach you a thousand things more. But, Bran, no man can teach you magic."    

Wait a minute. WAIT A MINUTE. I think he did it again!

I can teach you the speech of ravens -> Bran

How to build a castle -> Jon

The way a sailor steers his ship by the stars -> Arya

No Sansa or Rickon, but have no fear, Maester Luwin is unable to teach Bran how to be a Queen or High Septon. Like the Maiden & Warrior, sometimes a kid or two is missing.

JON THE BUILDER. 🤩

+.+

Beyond the castle walls, a roar of sound went up. The foot soldiers and townsfolk were cheering Robb as he rode past, Bran knew; cheering for Lord Stark, for the Lord of Winterfell on his great stallion, with his cloak streaming and Grey Wind racing beside him. They would never cheer for him that way, he realized with a dull ache. He might be the lord in Winterfell while his brother and father were gone, but he was still Bran the Broken. He could not even get off his own horse, except to fall.    

How could you possibly read his point of view, and passages like the one above, and come away with the opinion that two Targaryens and a pretend one are the key to saving the world? This fandom is tragic.

+.+

"Hodor?" he said sadly.                 

"Hodor," Bran agreed, wondering what it meant.

Final thoughts:

On a re-read it’s almost laughable how obvious it is Robb is marching to his death.

-> return to menu <-

#operation stumpy re-read #agot #bran vi

[writefightandflightclub]

Tiptoe around this (Poe Dameron x reader)

Summary: Poe x short!reader. He CANNOT deal with your smolness.

Rating: TEEN

Author’s note: I’m doing soft blurbs this week bc you all deserve a hug from one of our fave fictional husbands. Let’s all destress and be comforted one blurb at a time, okay? (I’m doing these quickly so I can complete as many as I can for you, so they’ll be a bit scrappy, please forgive!) This one deleted itself and then I ahd to recreate it from nothing. The first version was better and probably had fewer typos but here we are. Ran out of time to check before dinner!

Warnings: short!reader; kissing (mildly steamy, no smut or implied smut).

GIF: @thestarwarsdaily​ LOOK HOW PRETTY

Poe’s dying. He swears he’s dying.

He’s doing his best to obscure this fact from Rey and Finn, however, so continues engaging in casual chat all the while as he hurtles towards his demise.

Poe’s dying, and, cause of death? Your cuteness.

Poe watches you surreptitiously from across the hangar. Watches as you realise someone has stolen your step ladders again, despite the fact you etched your kriffing name onto them in Aurebesh last time this happened. And so, to reach the tools you need -valiantly struggling on with your tasks anyway- you clamber up the face of the shelves and stretch to your full length as you attempt to grab down the box.

It appears you can’t quite reach them, even having climbed into a pretty precarious position.

The trouble is, you’re just too kriffing smol.

And it kills Poe. Every single time.

Of course, your height is only one of the reasons he likes you. He’s never even had a preference for his partner’s height before, to be honest. There’s just something about you. Something about how short you are which brings out his protective instincts. Makes him want to hold you and take care of you and spoil you. And Poe is already the type of guy to spoil his partner, so you can imagine how he feels about you.

Oh, and it certainly helps that you’re so kriffing gorgeous too. And funny. And nice. And did he mention SMOL?

Poe would never be patronising towards you because of your size, of course. He knows you’ve been underestimated plenty of times because of it - by both the enemy and allies- and without good reason! You might be cute to a lethal degree, but Poe is also well aware that you’re badass, capable, intelligent, and fierce. Small but mighty, you could say.

Still, when he sees you on your tippy toes trying to reach the box of parts, his heart melts and dribbles out of his feet. Or, at least, that’s what it feels like.

Death, by cuteness.

As you continue to persevere, Poe stops pretending to listen to Finn and Rey’s chatter altogether, a dopey smile settling on his face. He stands from the chair he’s straddling to zoom over to you, before some other handsome, height-endowed recruit can come to your assistance. He couldn’t have that, now, could he?

“Hey,” he says from behind you, a warm and gentle hand settling on your shoulder in greeting. “Can I help you?”

Poe hopes he can reach the damn shelf, because whilst he’s certainly taller than you are, he’s not exactly Chewy. Now, that would be embarrassing.

“Sure,” you say, even as you huff and puff, successfully grappling the box down to the floor without any further intervention. You recognise the Commander’s familiar, sandy voice before you even turn around, but when you do, you flash him a warm smile, and he could swear -if you killed him a moment ago- that smile has revived him back to life. “You can tell your damn recruits to stop stealing my ladders, Commander. I wouldn’t tolerate this behaviour from my squadron.”

You’re adorable, for sure, but there’s a fire in your eyes telling Poe you are not to be messed with. In fact, he’s sure that given half a chance you could raze the whole First Order to the ground, even if you did the whole thing on your tip toes.

Poe simply looks at you goofily, trying to remember how to speak, your eyes big as you gaze up at him from beneath your lashes. You’re basically a whole head shorter than him, if not more, and he can’t help but want to pull you into a hug, imagining how it would feel to enfold you against his chest and rest his chin on top of your head as his arms wound around you.

“Commander?” you ask again, clicking your fingers in front of his face. “I’m sick of doing everything on my tiptoes - I’m not a ballerina.”

Your gesture brings him back to the real world, and he notices the rolled-up sleeves of your flight suit as they hover in front of his face, his eyes dropping to the rolled-up cuffs of the legs resting on top of your boots. Standard-issue is too long for you and… yes, you’ve guessed it…

Kriffing adorable.

“Sure thing, Commander,” he finally says, still retaining that dopey, lovestruck expression on his face.

You nod to thank him, getting lost in his umber eyes somewhere along the way. He’s always entirely flustered when he speaks to you, and quite frankly, it’s so adorable that it makes your heart melt out of your feet. At least, that’s what it feels like.

You like Poe, and you think he likes you, but... both of you have been tiptoeing around this for far too long now.

“You know, there’s maybe one thing I like to do on my tiptoes,” you say with a knowing smirk as Poe looks helplessly between your eyes and lips, helplessly lost in yearning.

“What’s that?” he asks, and he can swear he intended the words to come out at a normal volume, despite the fact a mere whisper is all that emerges. Still, he’s happy as it causes you to lean in closer.

“Kissing,” you say with a gentle suggestion in your eyes, voice breathy and matching his hushed tones. You think it’s about time one of you makes a move, and it may as well be you.

Poe visibly gulps, and shuffles his feet a little closer to you.

Is this really happening?

He’s not sure how many times he can die and be reborn in one day, if he’s honest. The implication of your words and in your eyes encourages him though. Besides, he’s waited long enough for this moment, and now is as good a time as any, right?

“Kissing, huh? Well, honey, do you think you’d need to be on your tiptoes to kiss me?”

Your tongue darts out over your bottom lip, and an eagerness swells in your whole being, your body tingling with nerves and heat. Your mouths inch towards one another as if magnetised, your chin tipping up and his head stooping lower to greet you, as months of tension is compressed into the diminutive space between you.

“Guess we should find out,” you suggest with a sultry smirk, pausing a small distance from his lips, sharing the same air in the tight space between you.

Poe wraps his arms around your back, his hands feeling large and broad against you. You feel delicate encased in his strong arms, and you grab firmly at the holsters around his wide hips, tugging him close and bringing his body flush to yours. Poe feels warm and big and sturdy pressed against you. You’ve always been independent and capable, and yet there is something about Poe Dameron which makes you want to swoon for him, if only he would pledge to protect and care for you in all the ways your diminutive form might suggest you need him to.

Poe’s face inches closer and closer to yours, his lips pausing a hair’s breadth away from yours as your eyes fan shut, leaving you wanting. You swear your lips are tingling from the near-contact alone, crying out to brush with his.

“Oh oh,” he teases. “Can’t reach.”

You smile as you stand up on your tiptoes, closing the distance in an instant and crushing your lips to his, finding them soft, a hint of stubble grazing your cheek and he tips his head to the side. Upon contact, his tongue melds immediately with yours, deftly probing the cave of your mouth and melting you from within. Your hands slide up and up, coming to rest with your fingers laced around his neck, slipping into his hair.

As the kiss sparks and grows, Poe’s arms wrap firmly around your waist, and he bundles you up towards him, easily taking most of the weight of you, until your toes are entirely lifted off the floor as the kiss reaches its peak. You feel like you’re floating, in every sense.

Breathless and floored by that kiss, Poe sets you gently down, idiotic grins spreading across both of your faces as you stand there for a moment, still holding each other close. Poe looks down at you with adoration shining in his eyes, backlit with a gentle heat.

Feet back on the ground, more or less, you look self-consciously around as you both become suddenly aware of the hubbub created by the fact you both did that in the middle of the hangar.

Oops.

When your eyes look up at Poe again, he still has the softest, lovestruck smile on his pretty face.

“See you later?” he asks hopefully.

“Yeah. I hope so,” you respond, returning his smile, and you stand on your toes to plant a quick chaste kiss to his cheek, cupping his face in your hand. You could swear his skin darkens in embarrassment, and he turns from you with the most bashful and adorable expression you’ve seen on his face yet.

You’re dying, you think. You must be dying. Death by cuteness.

You ignore the commotion you’ve caused, for the most part, and you watch Finn accost Poe for gossip as he tracks across the hangar. You see Rey beelining for you too, the dumbest grin on her face, and you turn back to your work as you notice her approach, taking a much-needed moment to catch your breath.

You kissed him. Poe Dameron. Your long-time crush.

It was true, that the two of you have both spent far too long tiptoeing around this, but it seems that Poe has finally swept you off your feet. It’s safe to say that you’ve never been so glad in your life to be too short to reach a shelf. Funny then, that his kiss has you feeling ten feet tall.

What’s more, this the last day that anyone steals your stepladders. Poe sees to that. Ain’t no-one gonna mess with his precious, smol bean. At least, not if he has anything to do with it.

#poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron blurb #poe dameron imagine #short!reader #petite!reader #star wars x reader #star wars #star wars fic #oscar isaac

[1-800-i-ship-it]

ToG Characters on April Fools

(if u think im procrastinating by doing this, ur absolutely correct) this is supposed to be purely entertaining, you are free to disagree with me 

Shibisu: tries to pull a prank on everyone but 9 times out of 10 probably fails, Hatz really doesn’t get why he tries to hide his swords and replace them, it literally never works. (rip to every year he loses a tracksuit to disaster dye...everyone has way too much fun messing with his tracksuits that he seems to have an infinite amount of.  

Rak: poor guy gets pranked every time with fake bananas...he has become very wary now, but the first time he bit into a plastic banana he chased down many, many turtles. legend says they never returned again, fearing the mighty chibi spear bearer who now has a bigger affinity for chocolate bars instead. 

Khun: how the hell do you even prank this guy??? answer: you don’t. (I mean, unless you have moronsexual energy + are bam) very, very good at planning out elaborate pranks...the prank war he had with Hatz was absolutely insane and Khun won by a landslide; Shibisu tried to butt in many times but they just ignored him :’) really good at making you feel like something’s off and by the time you figure it out you would have realized you have already been pranked. 

Bam: honestly you can’t even prank him you would feel way too bad about it...I mean like, this kid literally. ate grass. like, just straight up ate this yellow plant thing from the ground to test what it is. idk what he’s made of, but probably something better than litmus paper. prank tests probably won’t work on him? he’s prob just going to absorb them somehow. 

Yuri: oh hoi oh BOY does this lady pull THE BEST PRANKS. poor Evan always gets dragged along with her and her shenanigans, groaning and mumbling the whole time, but he secretly enjoys her company, even though he now has many more targets on his back because of her. definitely one of the most extra pranksters out there (will definitely paintball the walls outside of your house and toilet paper it and bake something that looks marginally good but definitely has something sketchy inside...mildy poisonous mushrooms? 3-day-old leftovers? you never know. 

Maschenny: probably Yuri’s and Khun’s equal when it comes to pranks. think she will forget pranks you pulled on her before? think again. revenge is a dish best served cold....that’s all you need to know. don’t get on her bad side or you’re screwed, save for the fact that she practically already hates everyone, so good luck! if she favors you she just probably hates you even more so you best get ready for April 1st and do your best to survive. 

Hachuling: definitely on par if not above Yuri’s and Khun’s and Maschenny’s pranks. has his own style and is always nonchalant about everything but will probably be silently laughing to himself when you fall for his pranks, inevitably. just does it for funsies cause he thinks it’s amusing. 

Lero ro: literally the only guy with braincells left on this godforsaken day lmao. good luck trying to prank him he will probably see it coming from a mile away, much to Quant’s chagrin.  

Hansung Yu: literally has the :3 face the entire day like wtf is this mans problem?? could probably prank everyone really well but only does it once in a while. besides, he always replaces the coffee with horrible instant coffee anyway. never falls for pranks either like damn does everyone want to sock his smug bastard in the face. 

Evankhell: try not to get burnt or get on her bad side. you can’t run away forever, unfortunately. 

Urek: loves pulling pranks, collabs with Yuri sometimes to Wreak Havoc and then promptly gets scolded by Garam, probably. Garam doesn’t even have the heart to pretend to say yes when he asks her out inevitably on April Fool’s. 

Hwaryun: the silent prankster who you will forget about if you don’t pay attention. watch out cause she’s coming for you and it will well-thought out, very much so, on par with all of the khun family’s pranks. 

Anaak: oh god the prank wars between her and Ran...just run away as fast as you can, the fight’s about to break out at any second whenever they’re in the same room. both don’t care about other people’s pranks except whatever this feud is between them. 

Wangnan: don’t ever, ever open the pokeballs he gives you on this fateful day. I warned you. 

Miseng: watch out cause she’s got ALL the blackmail material AND the photoshop. no escape cause she’s got pics of literally everybody. don’t underestimate this smol bean, she can go feral. 

Rachel: just salty about everything, probably leaves eaten chip bags on people’s desks but everyone’s already learned that they contain nothing inside. is this a metaphor? maybe. 

Parasol: oh god this poor guy everyone loves pranking him so much. I mean, can you blame them? the faces he makes are hilarious and god-tier meme content. I’m sorry pickle, your fate awaits you every year on April fool’s, and you cannot escape. 

Jared-19: pulls very bad offensive pranks and then gets hurt when people tell him to stop doing so, proceeds to blame it on someone, repeat cycle. 

Eduan: lmfao goddd F all his wine gets replaced with weird substances...courtesy of the khun kids. grape stash taken away, hidden somewhere, far, far away. 

Kallavan: can’t even joke about being disloyal to Jahad...does this guy ever crack a smile?? 

#tower of god #actually i thought of jahad's and kallavans first and uh #spiralled into this #hope it was entertaining? #doing all the characters would just take way too long so yeah rip #i have to catch up on a lot of work lmao anyways #kami no tou #khun #bam #rak #wangnan #miseng #kallavan #jahad #paracule #hwaryun #yuri jahad #evan edrok #garam #hansung yu #evankhell #urek #lero ro #hachuling #hatzling #anaak #shibisu #maschenny #rachel tower of god #my posts

[ramble-writes]

Some Hillbiwwy HCs @sloppy-butcher uwu I'm still hella excited that you requested me for this btw! Plz keep being amazing ajfjdjkf

Max (hillbilly) HCs with smol s/o! some slight nsfw sprinkled in

-

Small? Oh so small??

Oh how this makes this man happy.

Something about your smallness makes him want to hold you close and love on you (to the best of his ability).

Does he let you go every trial despite the Entity giving him bloodlust?

Yes.

He cares for you too deep to do you harm.

Now, getting him to love was quite the project.

It had started when he first found you hidden away in a trial, crying and scared with your arms covering your head.

It reminded him when he was a child bricked up in that dark room with the only source of light being that small hole.

Crying, scared, alone. . .

And in an instant he felt like he wanted to keep you, to protect you from something similar.

Apparently his sudden take on you made it easy for the others to escape and leave without any dead. Like as if that matter to him.

In the end after he holstered his mallet, he took a gentle hold of your hand when you had realized he caused you no harm.

Max lead you to hatch and let you go. Mainly in wanting, in hopes that he would see you again from the other side of that barrier that divides survivors and killers.

When you had returned, you were confused on what had happened. Did you go to the barrier? Yes.

You were surprised to see Max standing there waiting, his best attempts at a smile there on his mangled face.

It was... Cute in a way that you didn't feel all that threatened by it. There was no chainsaw in his hands, no mallet. He was empty handed, but happy.

You can't exactly remember every detail that went in with getting to know this chainsaw welding killer, but you do remember how touch starved this man is the moment you held him close one day.

It took some time for you to teach him to be gentle with how he holds things due to him not being taught anything really.

From then, his favorite way to hold onto you was where his head is on your chest, your heartbeat lulling him to sleep.

Whether your heart is beating fast or slow, he never wanted to hear it go silent. It would scare him. It's why he never harms you, why he's so careful in how he handles you.

Especially being since you are literally the size of one of those giant teddy bears that's the same height of you.

"Small!" He would say with what little he knows. "Small! Small!" which was followed up with nuzzling your cheek which would get you to giggle.

Now, teaching this man anything sexual was like... A no go.

He was too damn innocent with how he acts even though his hands would wander places without knowing what it would do to you.

It took Freddy - motherfucking burnt baked bean - to tell him what all his actions were doing. From touching your chest, your rump, the way he would nuzzle your neck, and the way with how close he would hold your hips to his.

He still didn't get it even when explained in VERY graphic detail. And asking you about it afterwards made you flustered.

But, like with getting together, things were slow, explained, and shown.

He didn't know why certain actions got his pants to feel tight and uncomfortable, why he felt hot that his breathing quickened.

Every bit of action after that was taken slow, the way you lowered yourself down onto him, the way you made sure the both of you were comfortable. Damn. It all felt too good.

The stretch sent your mind reeling that if this wasn't a first time thing, you would've loved to be plowed by this man.

As for Max, seeing you on him, feeling your heat envelope his straining dick made him let out a gurgled groan. Being this close to you, being so deep in you that you moaned out so lovely like.

He let you have the control, let you ride with those calloused hands of his on the smooth skin of your hips, feeling every bit of you as things were taken slow and lovingly. It's bliss to you both.

As for cumming, oh God he had no idea why his lower gut felt so tight that increased the more you bounced on his dick.

Keen whines sounded from him. You knew he was on the verge of bursting by how his face is in your neck, by how his breath fanned across your skin in quick pants, by how his hands were tightening a bit on your thighs.

You had taken a hold of one of his hands to reassure him when you had dropped down onto him and went stiff when suddenly he let out a hot load into you with a whine in his throat.

You praised him softly, telling him how good he did, how he's a good boy. Those words made him happy despite how tired he felt.

Did this ever happen again? Yes. Multiple times really. It's so new to Max that he wants more of that experience. There was one time you let him top and holy shit you had to teach him to be slow because what the hell is self control for this man?

But don't worry. You two work up to more rougher sex.

In fact. That happened mid-trial. The adrenalin, the rush. Fuck, it made things unbearable.

Especially since weirdly the Entity gifted you a crop top to wear. (Yes, NBs and Trans, and Men can wear crop tops. Trust me on this)

Oh boy were you left screaming during that. Felt too good. Bet if you asked those survivors that were with you, they would deny that they weren't watching. And you wouldn't be surprised if Danny showed you pictures he took due to him sneaking in like usual.

At the end of the trial, ha! Round two.

#HOOOOO DAMN THIS WAS SOMETHING #I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS BEAN #thank you for the request again 🥺 #hillbilly dbd #dbd #dead by deadlight #slasher x reader #dbd x reader #hillbilly x reader #nsf writing #max thompson jr #x reader #my writings #hcs #request

[spacegaywritings]

“Snuggles” - Part Three of “Little Tales” (an age regression series)

General Audience

Little Roman, Little Remus

Summary: Ree and Ro are cuddly when smol. When Ree comes in, teary and short of words, Ro knows it is cuddle time for not just him but his best little bean too. They snuggle up and babble about nice things. Ro colours and Ree just clings to him while holding a little goblin plushie.

Tags: age regression, little roman, little remus, plushie, snuggles, tears, soft, cuddles, post-split, darkness, mentions of Janus and Virgil, mentions of other sides, mentions of bad relationships to Virgil, rat mention, tall things, night time, absolutely adorable littles being together. Mentions of patton, mentions of dark/light side split, past warmth

Please be mindful to not tag/ add any ships or shipping content - this is age regression and there are no relationships of any kind happening. Please respect that.

Previous parts: 1 // 2 // ao3 1 // ao3 2 // ao3 overview // masterlist

My KoFi  - Support me ♥ or Commission me 

Note: If you miss any tags, have issues with links or any other concerns, please feel free to contact me. Anon is on and my DMs are open.♥

Links broken? Inform me, please!

Story under the cut (Wordcount: 2k)

It was dark when Remus slipped out of his bed.

 Everything was so tall, so big. The little gently clutched his blanket. It was thin, soft. His favourite blanket. It was light grey and had little rats on it. They had different colours and were special and precious to him.

He patted the fabric, as if to pat his favourite rat friends. They all had names, they all had a story and a place in his heart.

He drew the fabric closer around him. It provided little warmth but it was as good as it would get for now. The smell was rough and rubbed his nose.

 It was still dark. There was not a single source of light in his room. His bed was too big, too spacious and far away from the door or the window.. Remus looked around, black wrapping around his tired eyes.

Darkness was scary... and he felt too small and tiny to deal with it. He was just tiny and wanted snuggled.

 And his little Harry Snuffles was missing, too!

 “Mean..”, he mumbled to himself.

 Remus had his blanket wrapped around himself, a bit like a cape. He held onto the light fabric and slowly stepped out of his room. His mind was hazy and somewhat light. It was hard to think but he had to pay attention where he set his foot on. His room was a chaotic mess and if he stepped on legos, he would cry on the spot. With calculated steps, routine-led feet guided him from his bed to the big door where he slowly pulled the door open.

 Just a small peek... only for a bit, he told himself.

 The little slowly tapped forward, steps soft, silent. He could hear Virgil’s music buzzing in the background. The dim purple lights illuminated the space under his door. Remus wanted to go to him but the emo was so mean when he felt tiny... Memories of their interactions flooded his mind and pulled his lips down. A small layer of liquid covered his eyes and Remus shook his head.

 No, he would not go.

 His eyes wandered over to the other doors in the dark hallway but he shook his head at them as well. There was no way he could go there. Remus took his blanket and quickly moved down the hall, putting as much distance between himself and the other doors around him.

 Soon, the lights and voices were gone. No other sides were behind him. Instead, he crossed the intersection of hallways and turned to move into the direction of the only room to bring him comfort during these trying times.

 He waddled forward and as he did so, he approached the big gate before him. It was already impressively tall but the closer he got, the more the gate revealed of its gargantuan nature. It hovered above his metaphysical butt.

 Hehe, butt.

 Remus hugged his blanket closer. He shook his messy hair. It was brown but a funny skunk-like strand started appearing in it. Janus had said it was because he was so stinky.

The little was not a stinky but he liked the word. Stinky, stinky, stinky. Stinki mans! He was a stinki boi!!

 He giggled.

 His small noises filled the room as much as his heart. The darkness of the hallways seemed to let go off him and he slowly pushed at the door to gain entrance. The big emblem, a red shield, parted into two halves. Remus sneaked through the little space between the two doors and shut it completely behind him. He tried his best to be as quiet as he could but it still made a muffled sound when closing.

 The heavy stone plates clacked together because Remus was not only a stinki mans, he was also a stronk boi! He moved things!!

 Once inside and having sealed the entrance, the little relished in the small victory. He had gotten here all by himself like a really tol boi and he was not hurt and did not make anyone angry. Also also!! Nobody was disturbed by him taking a walk around. Everyone was still napping hard. Remus giggled to himself again.

Pride welled up inside of them and he carefully made his way forward, his grip on the blanket softer than before. It was a holding more than a gripping or even clutching. He loosely kept the blanket around him for the warmth and comfort.

 It was only now that Remus took the time to look around and take in all in.

 Compared to his dark, chaotic room, this one welcomed him with open arms. There was a warmth in the caring hug whenever he set foot on the light side territory. Roman’s room was right at the edge of it.

 The little followed the strings of fairy lights hanging from the sides of the room. It was the perfect system to lead him over to what and whom he was there for.

 The sound of his steps were loyally muffled by the rugs underneath. They smelled clean and warm. Remus stood for a moment, simply curling and uncurling his toes. His feet shifted a bit and he walked on the spot, just rubbing his feet into the soft little nubs underneath him.

The rug was red. Red like his former self had been, too.

 Another layer of hot tears build up in his eyes and Remus sniffled silently, sinking into the rug. He had not even reached the bed he had came for. The little hugged his blanket, burying his head in it.

 “Stinki..”, he mumbled into his fabric. It did not smell warm, it was rather harsh and lacked any kind of hugs.

He rubbed his nose into it and whined at the missing warmth in his heart.

 “Ree....?”

 A tiny voice arose from the dimly lit room. Shuffling and rustling happened. It came from the bed and Remus clenched his teeth together, his jaw somewhat hardening.

 “U got my stuffy!”

 He turned to Roro, tears in his eyes and blanket bundled up in his arms. In his sniffling frenzy, he had started pulling it together as if to make it into a companion for hugs, a companion for who was meant to be next to him.

He sniffed once more, a pouting look on his face as he turned to the sleepy Roro. He was in his room, so it was not a surprise to see him in here.

 “Giv it back.”

 Remus stepped closer, rubbing the tears out of his eyes. Roman shifted in bed and patted the space next to him.

 “Ree...”

 He whispered, the words almost lost between them. The distance separating them was spatially just about a foot but metaphorically marked by a whole border.

 “Mn... Nu, I wan my lil fren back.. Wan my Snuffles back!”

 Roman tilted his head and sobbed a bit.

 “Awaw.. I - I wan my Ree back..”

 The addressed little cried and climbed in, holding his blanket dear.

 “Gimme Snuffles n I gib u cuddles.”

 Roman looked at him, eyes innocent and face soft. He shrugged and done in to hug his Ree and hold him close.

 “Snuffles..”

 He pointed at his lap, softly pulling the blanket away. It was a warm white with golden symbols all over. The fabric seemed to be cotton. It felt cold but warm and questionably comfortable.

 Ree saw his fren with his fren and slowly reached out for it. Instead of reaching for it, he took Roro’s hand and squeezed it.

 “Fren.. Frens hug n snuggle for hapy feels!”

 Happy tears rolled over his cheeks and Roro nodded, squeezing his hand back. He shifted closer to his Ree and hugged him closer. He inhaled the harsher smells he had missed, he bathed himself in the lovely chaos and the comfort of unlimited creative frenzy.

 They hugged, feeling whole at once.

 Ro nudged the other and patted the space next to him. Ree took the hint and they laid down together. The light side nudged the stuffie over and pouted a bit. Ree felt his little stinki toi return and he held Harry Snuffles close. It was a green cyclops with a big big club in his hand.

 The plushie was returned to his arms and Ree gently cradled him close. He sniffled, hugging his plushie against his face to dry his tears. Ro drew blankets around them and curled up with Ree. They had a next of warm and cuddly blankets. His bed had veils covering him from the world. The perfect addition when he got smol and wanted to hide and snuggle a bit.

He conjured up another blankie and used it mark the sides of his bed with more warmth and comfort.

 Ree looked up at him, a soft smile on his face as he wrapped his arms around Roro, holding him close. Harry Snuffles was between them and rested in their shared embrace. The littles looked at one another after a while and giggled a bit.

 “Share!”, Ree demanded and Roro happily giggled, excited squeaks coming from his side.

 Roro shook his light head and patted his equal ever so gently.

 “We share? Share share!!”

 Another bout of energy hit him and the light side bounced on his shared bed. It was so big, but with Ree in it, it was just big enough for the two! Ro moved and grabbed his white blanket. It was big but soon covered their legs, then their upper bodies and even the pretty cyclops between their chests.

 “Shar’n s.. s gud.. s car’n”, Roro philosophised.

 Ree nodded sagely and snuggled up under the blanket until his face could barely be seen. His eyes and the light strand peeked out from under the white fabric but other than that, he was covered up. Roro pulled a set of pillows close and giggled as he patted one of them.

 “Wawamewons!”

 Ree looked at it and curled up, poking it a bit.

 “Hihi.. wawawemons”, Ree chuckled under his breath. Ro’s voice dissolved into another set of giggles and he carefully drew Ree closer.

 “Siwwy!”

 Ree giggled, nodding.

Little tears built up at the corner of his eyes and he grinned at his Roro, enjoying the fruits all over the pillow. Ree curiously tugged it closer until it was between them. His hands moved to place the cyclop’s head on the pillow as if Harry Snuffles was to sleep.

 “Hawwy gets scawwy! Needs lotsa lotsa snugs!”

 DEmonstratively, he placed his arms around the stuffie and Roro did as told, holding Ree and the pillow-Snuffles combination.

 “We.. we snug.. n .. n we hug”, he mumbled, speech slurred.

 To enforce his point, Ro nodded weakly. It was barely visible and Ree felt the same. His body felt heavy with the warm and heavy blankie on them. Roro holding him was nice and the smell made his eyes flutter shut and then make them too heavy to stay open!

 He blabbered a bit.

 “Mwen, mwean,, eys... he-heb,,hebby,,-”

 His speech was just as unclear as Roro’s but that was because the little was fighting every bit of sleepy whims. His eye lids shot up for a moment but immediately fell back to sleep and when he tried to kick his legs to annoy the other or move the blankie, his limbs were too heavy to be moved.

 He fought his eyes open one more time, catching a last glimpse of Roro holding him close and the watermelon pillow between them where Mister Snuffles was located on.

Before him was the comfort and the warmth he missed ever since the split.

 “Mw..k..kin..”, he started but he fell asleep before he could say any more. His hands were around Roro and another one rested on Snuffle’s upper arm.

 His mind was foggy, thoughts lame as the overwhelming tiredness lulled him back to sleep with tempting dreams and memories of being whole.

He sighed in his sleep, sleepy head letting go off his grip on the reality that was the mindscape.

 In a few hours, he could wake up again and be the stinki mans Janus saw in him.. but until then, he would be with Roro and snuggle and feel loved like when Patton used to when he made him his rat blankie.

 He sniffled.

 It was good to be back.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #ts fanfic #ts fanfiction #Age Regression #agere sides #little remus #roman sanders #remus sanders #little tales series #joey writes

[i-love-side-characters]

What did you think of the end of The Toll?

!!! TOLL SPOILERS !!! PROCEED WITH CAUTION !!!

Scythe Cult:  @honorablescythecurie @honorablescythefaraday @palli-x @book-limerence @lochscinders @a-lonely-tatertot @shellyseashell

bored? send me serotonin please <3

Okay now lets get a couple things out of the way. I haven’t read Toll in a little bit, and it’s taking forever to come from the library. Also, yes I did have it downloaded before, but I kept rereading Faraday’s journal entry when he find out Curie is dead. I know, I’m trash for them but honestly let me have this #curiedeservedbetter2021 #faradaydeservedbetter2021 #curadayforlife

Now that we’ve established that I’m just lonely and so I cling onto healthy (ish) fictional couples for my source of love, let’s proceed.

Things I remember:

 - Rowan and Citra go zoomy zoom into spacey space, but Citra’s deadish because Goddard pulled some shit and so Rowan’s going to wait a couple hundred years for her to wake up

 - Total hottie Ayn Rand shanked Goddard which is honestly a power move you go girl

 - Faraday and Munira unleashed the failsafe, which basically infected a whole bunch of people and now Scythes just kill the infected people so that there’s no suffering

 - Jeri!!! and Greyson!!! Babeys!!! Smol Beans!!! My genderfluid babey with my weird Jesus man it’s a match made by the Thunderhead (because it literally is)

 - Rowan and Citra (who renounced her Scythehood) are going to start a new colony on some random ass planet

Things I don’t remember:

 - Whatever happen with Cirrus

 - Whatever happen with Joel the Jobe Man

 - Whatever happen with Loriana and Munira who are totally in love Shusterman said Sapphic rights 

Okay Akki stfu lets move on:

Okay. I didn’t really like it. I did like Rowan’s sarcasm, but the ending fell a little flat. Compared to the other books’ endings, I didn’t really think it measured up. It was just a bit bland. Here’s why.

The end goal:

Let’s just work our way through the series to show why The Toll just didn’t really work for me.

Scythe - Book 1:

Goal/Climax:

The goal/climax of the book was clear. Citra and Rowan are fighting for the ring. Only one can get it, and the winner has to glean the other. 

The ending:

Citra wins the ring, and is ordained. Instead of actually killing (gleaning) Rowan, she slyly grants him immunity by punching him so that his blood’s DNA would transfer to the database and no Scythe could kill him.  We also got a confession scene where they tell each other they love the other. It ends with Rowan finding out that Faraday did not self-glean.

Why it works:

It is tense. We are watching the two main characters have to either kill the other or be killed. Neither want to. It is clear from their actions throughout that they harbour feelings for each other. This is a high stakes situation. And it flows nicely. We don’t have any unnecessary dialogue/scenes. We don’t have a dumb solution to the problem where a bunch of unnecessary events happen like a character death/romantic scene. They do tell the other that they love them, but the moment is quick and is not the focus of the moment. The focus is on the actual ordainment ceremony and the challenge. The solution directly addresses the main conflict of the book.

Thunderhead - Book 2:

Goal/Climax:

Goddard and Citra (now Anastasia) are presenting their arguments as to who will win the inquest. The inquest was called because Anastasia and Curie needed time to gain more votes in favour of Curie for the position of High Blade. 

The ending:

Anastasia and Curie win the inquest, and Goddard must complete a full new apprenticeship in order to train his new body. Goddard, however, has tricks up his sleeve. He had made a plan prior to the events on Endura to cripple the Grandslayers tower. The plan changes, but works to his favour and destroys the entire island. Curie, in a desperate attempt to save Rowan and Citra, locks them in an airtight chamber that will preserve them so they can be revived. With this sacrifice, Curie is forced to self glean.

“She thrust her blade inward, directly into her heart. She fell to the ground only seconds before the sea would wash over her, but she knew death would wash over her faster. And the blade hurt far less than she imagined it would, which made her smile. She was good. Very, very good.”

-Thunderhead, page 499

Why it works:

*violently screams in my head* I’m good don’t worry

It is a logical ending. If Curie and Anastasia had won the inquest and survived Endura, there would be no need for a third book, unless Shusterman had decided to write a book about Curie being High Blade and Goddard sulking in the shadows and plotting to kill her. That wouldn’t work because I don’t think there is any possible way Curie wouldn’t catch Goddard in two seconds because she’s a boss.

Many people say that Curie should have gotten Rowan to lock her and Anastasia in the vault instead of him. Rowan would have died for Anastasia, it makes sense, but that takes away from the very essence of Curie’s character. She is a truly Honourable Scythe. She knows that Anastasia loves him, and she cares deeply about Anastasia. Letting herself survive would have been completely out of character. She also knows that Anastasia is the future of the Scythedom. While it would be a great help if Curie didn’t die, as well as sparing us emotional trauma, it doesn’t make sense for her character.

This ending also directly “solved” the issue in the book. While the villain won, it was a satisfying ending. Curie is dead, that was a very smart move, because obviously Goddard wouldn’t survive two seconds if she was there. It gave us a good reason for the Thunderhead to disappear.

 *violently screams again* Curie died, yeah, no, I’m okay

The Toll - Book 3: *note that some details may be wrong

Goal/Climax:

Faraday, Rowan, Jeri, Munira, Loriana, Anastasia, Greyson, and Cirrus need to figure out what to with the frozen Tonists, all unknowing that Scythes Goddard and Rand are heading towards the island. They still need to beat him in order to make sure that the non-Scythe population won’t be subject to bias/malice/aforethought/Goddard’s ego. 

The ending:

Rowan, and Citra, who renounced her Scythehood, travel to another planet that can support life with the frozen Tonists, as well as 42 other ships carrying Tonists. Cirrus is copied into 42 different versions in order to save humanity. After being offered Citra’s old ring, Munira (I believe) returns to the Library of Alexandria. Faraday follows through with the failsafe and gleans only the suffering. Greyson and Jeri stay together on the island, and become romantically involved. Scythe Rand is the one who eventually kills Goddard.

Why it DOESN’T work:

Okay, there’s a lot to unpack here. I’m just going to go character by character and by the plot.

1. Plot - It just doesn’t make sense. The hero’s solution doesn’t in any way stop Goddard, who is the main villain. We’ve led up to this for a very long time, and Rand is the one who gleans him. If I’m correct, The main characters don’t interact with Goddard for nearly the entire book, save Rowan. The solution, to save humanity by colonizing other planets would, without Rand’s interference, let Goddard wreak his havoc on the world. Only Scythe Faraday and Morrison could truly challenge him, and even then Faraday is old and hasn’t kept his abilities refined, and Morrison is young and inexperienced and wears a denim robe.

2. Rand and Goddard’s Arcs - Rand is the one who kills Goddard. I think that this was a very interesting move, and one that made a lot of sense. Goddard has treated her terribly, it would satisfy her arc of turning against him, as well as giving her a redemption arc that would also avenge Tyger’s death. I think that this is actually a really good arc, were it not for the fact that Citra and Goddard never fought/interacted with each other. If there had been a fight, and Rand had killed him then, that would have been better and would have better satisfied the actual conflict in the book.

3. Rowan and Citra’s Arcs - In terms of Citra’s arc, I think it was emotionally impactful to have her renounce her Scythehood. But Rowan didn’t have as much of a part to play in this book as he could have had. Citra and Goddard also never interacted, which would have been very interesting since he was the direct cause of her mentor and canon mother figure’s death. It would have been an interesting scene that could have played out really well. Based on Discord texts from a conversation I had, I know an reminded that the last two pages of The Toll were incredibly impactful and beautiful. I don’t have much to say about Rowan since I don’t remember much of his role.

4. Jeri, Greyson, Loriana, and Munira’s Arcs - I paired these four together since their doings aren’t very solid after the books. Jeri and Greyson are canonically together, which I think was a great move by Shusterman. Having a main character in a healthy relationship with a canon LGBTQ+ character was incredibly impactful for me, and it satisfied Greyson’s thoughts about how he doesn’t care if Jeri is a boy or a girl, he just loves them. Loriana didn’t have as much of an arc, but Munira did have a small one. Her refusal of the Scythe’s ring let her dispense of her hatred for Scythes and their system, and let her let go of her bitter feelings about not being ordained. 

5. Cirrus’ Arc? - I do not remember enough to speak about Cirrus’ role in the books.

6. Faraday’s Arc - This is probably the one I have the most to say about. I am sorry in advance. Faraday is an emotional character. He has cried canonically twice as far as I can remember, once when he gleaned a child, and the other when he found out Scythe Curie and Anastasia had died on Endura. He is also openly disgusted with Scythe Goddard and his practices, which is why I supremely dislike his arc. It would have been so interesting to see how he would have reacted if Scythe Goddard and the heroes had interacted during the end scene of The Toll. We know he is an Honourable Scythe, like Curie, and upholds the Scythe Commandments, especially after his punishment over his breaking of the 9th commandment “Thou shalt have no spouse nor spawn.” It would have been so. interesting. to see whether Faraday would snap and attack Goddard, if he would try and talk to him, how he would react. Like with Anastasia, he would have been interacting with Curie’s murderer. The potential of that moment! Don’t forget that Faraday is definitely still in love with Curie, based on his elevated heart rate in Thunderhead, and his journal entry in The Toll. I think it would have been so interesting to see him confront her killer.

Summary:

Okay that was much longer than I intended, and I have more thoughts, but it’s 2:40 am and I haven’t slept in a while. So my summary. I liked The Toll. It was a solid book, that had funny moments, jaw dropping moments, heartfelt moments, and emotionally impactful scenes. It was a solid book.

I don’t think it compared as much to the other two, especially Thunderhead. The ending fell a little flat and didn’t carry the arcs as well as I would have liked, but honestly, I still reread it. Shusterman really managed to pull at your emotions.

Because I just beat up on the book for the last couple paragraphs, let me tell you some of my favourite parts of the book.

1. Literally any scene with Possuelo and Anastasia that dynamic was so good and him calling her “meu anjo” literally made my heart do a little happy dance the father-daughter dynamic was what we needed. It also offered a nice levity to tough scenes.

2. The Rowan-Anastasia Reunion. They ran towards each other and knocked each other off their feet. Ohhhh my god, they ran towards each other and knocked each other off their feet! That was so cute, and as someone who was a strong supporter of platonic Rowan & Anastasia, I honestly loved it.

3. Faraday-Anastasia Reunion. Him dropping to his knees in front her her, her initial confusion as to who he was, and the “perhaps the greatest of all Scythes was kneeling in front of her” part killed me. Their reunion was so well written and heart-wrenching.

4. Anastasia Cries about Curie’s Death. I feel like WatchMojo right now. Anyways, the way her emotions break after trying to repress her sadness over her mentor’s sacrifice for her.

5. Rowan’s sarcasm. Beauty. What a power move to sass the guy who’s going to set you on fire in front of 3000 people.

6. Scythe Constantine and Rand. What a dynamic I wasn’t ready for. Rand’s cool comebacks with Constantine’s sly personality just made for the most amazing dialogue opportunities. 

Thank you anon!

#asks #anon asks #not main content #arc of a scythe #scythe #thunderhead #the toll #scythe anastasia #citra terranova #rowan damisch #scythe faraday #munira atrushi #loriana barchok #greyson tolliver #scythe rand #scythe goddard #jerico soberanis #mine #tw long post #tw swearing #tw cult mention #the toll spoilers #thunderhead spoilers #this was so long sorry

[cajunquandary]

The One with Red Sky at Morning

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam, Castiel

Summary: After a difficult hunt, you and the Winchester brothers want nothing more than to rest. As fate would have it, things don’t go so smoothly.

Warnings: Natural disaster, a little flangsty.

WC: 2300

A/N: This was written for @smol-and-grumpy​ “NAT’S SUPERFRIENDS TITLE CHALLENEGE.” My title was “The One with Red Sky at Morning.” I actually wrote several versions of this but settled on this one. A very similar situation happened to me when I was very young, out hunting with my father deep in the woods of South Georgia. All we had was a four-wheeler and a lot of quick prayers. To this day I don’t know how we made it out alive. Enjoy my first writing back from a three-year hiatus! This might get rough. Suggestions welcome!

Also, sorry not sorry, I was feeling giffy~

“Faster!” You yell, a shriek threatening to escape your core.

“C’mon, Baby,” Dean prays through gritted teeth, both feet forcing the accelerator to the floor. The speedometer stops measuring past a hundred and twenty. You gulp as the RPMs reach past the point of no return.

“We’re not gonna make it, Dean,” Sam goes pale, breaths quick and shallow, voice breaking as he spoke his brother’s name.

In the rearview mirror, you can just make out beads of sweat tracing the concern lines on Dean’s forehead, a black abyss behind him. You grab onto Sam from the back seat, burying your face into his flannel. Dean’s string of curses is soon overpowered by the ghostly sounds emanating from the beasts on your tail.

The air is hot and electric, raising every hair on end. When you hear the crack, your blood runs cold.

This must be it, the end.

You stumble sleepily out of the slight motel bathroom and over to the coffee maker. Without so much as peeking, you masterfully load the grounds and water and press the magic button. Oh, how you love that button. Scratchy bedsheets stir behind you, but you pay no attention. A shadow of a smirk creeps across your face. The holy bean water is ready. You take the much-too-small Styrofoam cup with you to sit at the table by the window. Lifting the chalice of your soul to your lips, you inhale as if you’d been starved of oxygen all night. Your eyes gradually open, adjusting easily to the low light of the room. The sweet scent helps to knock the cobwebs from your mind, the warmth radiating from your palms to the depths of your bones.

What a week it’d been. But right now, you don’t want to think of the vamp nest or their victims. Right now, you revel in the tranquility. In the bed near the door, Sam is rubbing the sleep from his eyes, no doubt about to share some coffee with you at the table. On the couch, Dean’s limbs are sprawled in awkward positions, but he still snores gently.

Finally, a smile graces your lips as you watch Dean. He’s so peaceful. There’re no lines on his forehead or forlorn frown below his freckle dusted cheeks. You almost wish he could stay like that forever—at peace. You also wonder what it might be like to touch him, hold him. After the hunt and almost losing him, being more than a few inches away from the man actually hurts. You couldn’t imagine never again seeing those deep, loving eyes, or the way he sings in the car, or dances when he thinks no one is around.

Catching you just before you jump off the deep end into thoughts and memories of Dean, Sam finds his seat next to you. Trying to brush the obvious daydreaming off as nothing, you take a gulp of coffee, only to grimace in pain as it burns all the way down, leaving your upper lip and tongue tingling.

Sam chuckles. “You know it’s hot, right?”

“Yeah, thanks.” And so is something else in the room, you can’t help but to think to yourself.

You set the rude drink upon the table and stand to open the curtains. With a thrust, the stubborn things release and reveal the world outside.

“Oh, shit,” you gasp. You stare for a moment just to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. You rub them. You stare a moment more, then rub them again. Red skies morning, sailors take warning.

You look over to Sam, your body rigid.

“What is it, Y/N?”

“Sam, check the weather. Now.”

As if on cue, Dean’s phone is the first to sound the alarm, shortly followed by yours and Sam’s.

“It’s a weather alert—severe storms coming,” Sam stood from the table to look outside as well.

Dean groans from the space behind you, “Well then let’s get a move on.”

You don’t even bother getting dressed, instead throwing one of Dean’s old flannels over your thin t-shirt and leggings. Just like your days in EMS, your boots and pack stand ready next to your bed.

Within a minute, everyone slides into the impala, coffee forgotten. As Dean pulls onto the highway, you and Sam map out the fastest way to get home to the bunker with the least amount of bad weather to drive through, looking for a place to stop for food if possible.

Around two hours in, the drive is going decently well, with only a few patches of hail and heavy rain. You begin to doze off to the comforting lull of the Impala and the Allman Brothers.

Your body betrayed you as it twitched violently. Still on edge after the hunt, you jump from the action, accidentally hitting Dean in the shoulder.

“You good?” He glances quickly in your direction, adjusting his hand on the wheel.

Heart beat loud in your ears, you lean back and return a quiet “yeah, I’m okay. Sorry.”

No rest for the wicked or the hunters, you suppose.

Dean hums along to the music. You are powerless watching the vibration of his neck, wondering what it might be like if your lips were to touch the spot where his pulse rippled the skin. You look down at your phone in an attempt to distract yourself.

Pulling up the weather app, you report the developing spot just up ahead. The brothers take note, then you lean against the window and watch the blur of pine forests and rolling fields. Even overcast, the landscape is breathtaking. You reminisce on your days in the back of the “bus,” what it was like when the tone would drop and in seconds you’d be flying down the road, lights and sirens, mentally preparing for the unknowns waiting for you on the scene. After ten years, there wasn’t much you hadn’t seen. This knowledge and wisdom helped but still couldn’t prepare you when a changeling become your patient.

You catch yourself, not wanting to remember the details of the attack, the ambulance rollover, or the death of your partner. You don’t want to imagine what would’ve happened if the Winchester boys hadn’t shone up when they did, or if you’d stayed in that town after the bodies were found.

Wiping an unwelcome tear from the corner of your eye, you refocus on the trees, enjoying their dances under the influence of wind lines.

Until one fell, bending until it snapped, twisting off halfway. Then another, and another.

“Uh, guys?” When had it gotten so dark? You check your phone for the time again. Almost three in the afternoon.

You don’t need to look behind you to know what it is. You don’t get the chance to tell Dean to floor it—he already is. You grip the seat tightly as the car lurches forward, shaking under the speed and the wind force.

It’s as if an invisible giant is stepping down on the forest on both sides of the highway. Oncoming traffic has ceased, some people have already bailed from their cars, seeking scant shelter in the ditches. Leaves and branches now swirl through the sky, littering the road ahead. Dean takes the next exit, not slowing down a bit.

You are so close to the bunker now, but the echoes of the angry titan behind you threaten to devour the Impala before you even have a chance for safety. You hazard a glance behind you.

No more than a mile behind the racing car, the tornado swallows the whole world, preceded by the biggest cloud of debris you’ve ever seen.

“Faster!” You yell, a shriek threatening to escape your core.

“C’mon, Baby,” Dean prays through gritted teeth, both feet forcing the accelerator to the floor. The speedometer stops measuring after a hundred and twenty. You gulp as the RPMs reach past the point of no return.

“We’re not gonna make it, Dean,” Sam goes pale, breaths quick and shallow, voice breaking as he spoke his brother’s name.

In the rearview mirror, you can just make out beads of sweat tracing the concern lines on Dean’s forehead and the rotating black abyss behind him. You grab onto Sam from the back seat, burying your face into his flannel. Dean’s string of curses is soon overpowered by the ghostly sounds emanating from the beasts on your tail.

The air is hot and electric, raising every hair on end. When you hear the crack, your blood runs cold.

You are covered in glass from the back window, the wind sucking the breath from your lungs. Sam reaches over and pulls you into his lap, holding as tightly as your eyes are shut. Dean masterfully swerves in an out, dodging unknown obstacles and navigating winding roads.

You recognize these turns. The bunker!

Castiel is already perched at the edge of the garage when you open your eyes. Still at full speed, Dean swerves the car inside, causing it to slide sideways and leave thick rubber tracks. Castiel struggles against the wind and grabs Dean as he bails from Baby.

“I can’t close it! We have to take cover, now,” Cas yells over the train whistle screams of the tempest.

Not missing a beat, Sam grabs you and doesn’t even pause to set you down. The alarms in the bunker sound off, competing with the storm.

You all finally tumble through the door and slam it locked behind you. You grunt as your ears pop from the pressure change and rub your jaw.

Heavily breathing from the ordeal, the four of you trade nodding glances, indicating that everyone is okay.

You are the first to break the silence, shaking bits of glass from your shirts. “I need a drink.”

Castiel and Sam follow you down the steps, but stop to sit in the war room. Dean trails on your heels, also eager for a drink. You grab the bottle but keep walking, ready to be in your own bed already.

Dean protests. “Hey, you gonna share?”

“Sure, but you’ll have to follow me.”

Once in your room, you take a long draught from the already open bottle of whiskey, then turn and hand it to Dean.

“Close your eyes, Winchester.”

Dean does as told, bottle already suspended at his lips.

You pause for a moment to admire those lips and the way they purse when he swallows. It catches your breath but you turn away, stripping the glass-ridden clothes into a pile on the floor. You curse under your breath as you realize the clothes that other than the ones still in the car, the rest were in the laundry room, several wings down.

You grab a pillow to shield yourself just in time as Dean opens his eyes to see what the matter is. He apologizes quickly and turns away. “What’s wrong?”

“No clothes.”

Without hesitation, he shrugs the shirt from his shoulders and extends it in your direction.

“Thanks.” You are so glad that his eyes are still averted so he can’t see your red face, the blush stretching through your whole body. You quickly slip inside the shirt and bottom it, thankful that it reaches nearly to your knees. You pause at the collar, lifting it to your nose and nearly fall as the heady scent of him fills your senses. Dean, standing now, catches you just in time, closer to you than ever before. His hands rest gently at your sides, and he chuckles sweetly as he leans in to kiss your hair. The whiskey still warming your bones, you wrap your arms around him, interlocking your fingers and burying your face into his bare chest. He pulls you in tighter, squeezing.

The stress of almost losing him on the hunt to that fang and of nearly becoming flying sky trash slowly falls away within the shelter of his embrace. He leans onto the bed and back farther, taking you with him until you’re both under the blankets completely intertwined.

The dim light provided by a small lamp in the corner casts just enough shadow that you can count the freckles dusted on Dean’s cheeks and get lost in the hazel green folds of his eyes. Could this really be happening? Is the hunter you’d be pining for silently for over a year really holding you this closely—in your own bed?

Your breath mixes with his when he leans in even closer and brushes your lips with his. You close your eyes and relish in the warmth and comfort and safety of his arms, the softness and taste of his lips, stubble grazing your chin.

You can still perceive faint sounds of the raging storm outside, but you have no more fear. You pull away slightly to enjoy the sweet smile on Dean’s face until a passing shadow crosses it.

An elated “finally” can be heard near the doorway. Sam winks and closes the door, retreating footsteps resonating down the hall.

A new storm blooms in your core as you surrender yourself to the ease of being so close to Dean. Together, you trade secrets and promises in the intimate moments before slowly falling asleep to the comfort of his voice.

Red skies morning, sailors take warning. Red skies night, sailors delight.

With the red flashes of the bunker floodlights filling the air, you did certainly delight, safe at last. Any wreckage could wait until morning.

TAG LIST:

@supernatural-jackles @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch @aseasyasdeanspie @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79 @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @inmysparetime0 @impala-dreamers-mainfrigginblog @impala-dreamer @arryn-nyxx @idk-life01 @attorneyl @akshi8278 @deathtonormalcy56 @xwing-baby​

*To be added or removed, shoot me a message

#Supernatural #chris writes #writing challenge #dean x reader #winchester #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #castiel #bunker #Baby #storm #the one with red sky at morning

[mmimagine-40]

I miss them

Steve rogers x Reader Stark

This is another one for @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817 ‘s writing challenge!

Prompt: You sad smol bean, let me love you! But not what you suspected!

Warnings: You might cry bish! I definitely did while writing this. 

Takes place after the events in endgame.

Steve awakes with a shake yelling out a ‘No’. His breathing is hard and tears run down his face as he looks around the room. His breathing calms as he looks over the master bedroom. Eyes running over every little detail. From the TV to the picture frame and painting hanging up to the stack of books next to a chair in the corner in front of the windows. Till his eyes meet the sleeping form of his wife. He breathed out a thank you that he didn’t wake her up. He sits there running a hand over his face as the image of the nightmare still played in his mind. No not a nightmare , the bad memories. Nightmares didn’t actually happen just a figment of imagination. This was the replay of the battle. A battle that Tony and Nat sacrifice themselves to save not only their friends and families but to save everyone on earth. The last two people Steve ever thought he lost. His mind can’t help but run over how he failed them. He should have done something. Anything , there should have been a way to save them or bring them back. Steve’s head snapped up at the small sounds of whimpers. One he knew too well to know that will start a full cry session soon. Looking over to Y/n again he kissed her forehead as he slowly and quietly got out of the bed and made his way to the room next to theirs. He made his way to the crib and looked in at his son. “Hey buddy, You have a nightmare too?”, he spoke quietly as he picked him up. The little one claimed almost instantly at the feel of his father's warm skin as he was laid on his chest. Years after the war , years after both of Tony’s and Nat’s deaths. Steve took Tony's words to have his happiness. When he went to return the stones he met with his old love , Peggy Carter, for he owned her a dance. Thinking she was his happiness. But as they danced he thought about the woman he loved wasn’t the one he saw himself getting married to and having kids with anymore. Not after seeing how her life turned out. Her husbands , kids , grand kids, all of them. Especially not after meeting Y/n Stark. He returned back , shocking everyone. As soon as he returned he got down on one knee and asked Y/n to marry him. They had a small wedding with close friends and family and shortly later had their little boy . Anthony Nathan Rogers was born on May 29th. Due to being born on Tony’s birthday they both agreed to name Anthony after him. He was finally happy.  He gave up Captain america to Sam and instead settled for a job training the new recruits. Something he loved pulse kept him safe and to fully be there for his wife and son. 

Steve held his son close as he rocked him back to sleep. “ You might not understand this now, But you were named after the greatest man and woman I knew. Your Uncle Tony and Aunt Nat. They were the bravest , smartest people I knew. It was a great honor to not only work with them but to know them. Even if me and Uncle Tony fought , a lot. I still wouldn’t trade meeting or knowing him for anything else. Especially because without him I wouldn’t have met your mommy. “, Steve says smiling as he tries to hold back the tears. “ And thanks to Aunt Nat , too. Who pushed me to finally ask mommy out. …. I miss them both so much. AS much as at the time I hated Tony’s old man remarks , I’d do anything to hear one more. Or one more time to sit with Nat and talk about how I’m an idiot. One day , when you're bigger, I’ll tell you all about them. About who they were, what they did, and the love they shared to others around them. As well as the biggest sacrifice they made not only for me or mommy or even your other aunts and uncles but for the world. Now people might tell you your old man was the greatest hero. But I’m not , they are. They were so much braver and stronger than me. I couldn’t even save them or bring them back. But I’ll get into that more later. For now I hope knowing you were named after the two greatest heroes will help fight off those nightmares.”. Steve smiles as he looks down to see his son sound asleep. He ignored the tears on his face as he kissed his son and put him back in his crib. He stands there just watching his son sleep. Softly smiling as his nose scrunches every now and again. Something he got from his mother. Steve couldn’t help as a few more tears ran down his face as he felt arms wrap around his waist and a face rest on his back. “How much did you hear?”. “All of it.”, Y/n whispered into his shoulder kissing it. Steve turns to face her. He leans his forehead on hers closing his eyes just wanting to hold her for a bit. “You know you can talk about this stuff with me too, not just our son?”. Steve nodded as the dam broke again and more tears fell, “I felt like I didn’t have the right to. You were/ are going through a lot too. After all he is your brother. I need to be there for you and be strong.”. “Stevie , You're not captain america any more. You don’t have to put this show on for everyone that you're this strong person who doesn’t have these dark feelings and thoughts. You don’t have to be strong for me all the time. You can tell me when you're feeling down or you're hurting. I’m not going to think any less of you. Especially after what you had been through. I mean Hell Steve, you were there when tony took his last breath in his last moments. It’s okay , I’m here for you. To listen and hold you and put you back together. I can be the strong one for once and help you. So please stop trying to hide your feelings or hurt from me. Let me help heal you like you’ve done for me. I’m with you till the end.”, Y/n says wiping his face. Steve lets out shaking breaths at her words, the last one’s the same thing he told her on their wedding day. When he broke the formal wedding stuff of not seeing the bride and all that crap , to hold her as she cried because she wanted Tony to walk her down the aisle. “I love you.”, He says looking up at her. She gave him a small broken smile, “ I love you ,too. Now let me help you.”. Steve just nods and follows her as she brings him back to bed. Where he curled into her chest and finally let out all that he was feeling as she laid there listening and holding him. Telling him everything will be okay.

I’m sorry! Not only for it being a bit short but for the saddest thing I have ever wrote.- MM

#shamelesshoesforchris #Chris Evans #Chris evans imagines #chris evans characters #Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagines #steve imagines #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #Stark!reader #reader stark #Steve rogers x reader stark #steve rogers x stark!reade #Tony stark #natasha romanoff #Endgame #Avengers #Avengers imagines #Avengers endgame #Imagines #Chris evans characters imagines #I miss them #Sad!imagines #MM

[queenshelby]

Teacher’s Pet

31 Days of Kink: Day 7

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1378

Warning: Smut, Teacher/Student, Age Gap

Imagine starting drama school during your first year of university and having Cillian Murphy as a temporary drama teacher while your professor has taken six weeks off to recover from a broken leg.

But, Cillian and you aren’t exactly seeing eye to eye and you were asked to meet Cillian in his office to discuss some recent issues that have arisen in your performance.

***

‘You are difficult, you know that’ Cillian murmured, his smile faded, his face hardened, and his eyes narrowed.  You had yet again complained about your schedule.

‘I am difficult? I think you are the one who is difficult. I have been trying my best here and you keep rearranging everything…’ you said as you felt your stomach tighten. Immediately, you knew that you screwed up again because you secretly desired Cillian, a man twice your age, and the worst of it all was that you knew he was right when he criticised you and your performance.

‘Have you?’ he asked, his voice stern.

‘Have I what?’ you asked.

‘Have you been trying your best? Because it sure doesn’t look like it to me’ Cillian said, referring to you having forgotten your lines several times over the last few days.

‘I am distracted, I am sorry’ you huffed.

‘By what?’ he asked and you sure didn’t want to respond to this question.

But he already knew your answer. He has seen the way you kept looking at him.

‘I need you to tell me what has been distracting you so that I can help you Y/N’ Cillian said.

‘It is you who distracts me and, unless you are going to fuck me over this table right now, I will probably continue to be distracted for the auditions this afternoon’ you huffed as you knew that, by the way things were going, you may as well cancel your drama school enrolment.  

Cillian chuckled and moved quicker than you thought possible, grabbing your waist, hoisting your up off your chair and onto your feet.

‘I’ve got 45 minutes Y/N…you better remember your lines after this’ Cillian said, quickly pressing his lips onto your before spinning you around to face his desk.

He had been wanting you since the moment you walked into his class. Of course, it was inappropriate but his desire had finally gotten the better of him when the words left your lips.

His chest pressed against your back and you previously pounding heart doubled its pace as you felt incredibly turned on.

His breath was hot on your skin as he kissed his way from the nape of your neck up to your ear where he took your earlobe into his mouth and tugged at it gently with his teeth before whispering in your ear ‘Is this what you want.’

‘Yes’ you moaned, your head falling back against his shoulder as your eyes closed.

‘Don’t make a sound’ Cillian’s inducted as his hand slid beneath your cotton skirt and into your panties where his fingers found your already soaking wet slit.

He traced the edges of your pussy with the tips of his fingers, never directly touching your clit but getting just close enough to make you ache with anticipation. He continually dipped the first knuckle into you, but never enough to satisfy the desire to be filled that pulsed inside you.

As he teased you, you could feel the bulge in his pants pressed against you growing. All you wanted was his cock inside you. You moaned and tried to grind against his teasing hand, shifting your hips in an attempt to get his fingers where you wanted them, but he continuously rebuffed your attempts.

After what felt like hours of teasing, his hand left you and you felt him unbuckle his belt and push his pants off.

Cillian pushed your skirt up and, when his body came back against yours, you felt his hard member pressing against your panties.

‘Please, please just fuck me’ you moaned as Cillian finally pushed your panties down to your knees.

‘One thing you really need to learn is to be patient’ he then growled as he moved his fingers adeptly through your folds, finding all your most sensitive spots, rolling around and over your clit, probing inside you deeper and deeper, making you groan with pleasure and fuelling your desire even further to get him in you.

You could feel the precum oozing from the tip of his cock, smearing on your ass as he slid back and forth between it. You tightened your glute muscles around him and felt his girth slipping between you.

Then, all of a sudden, he removed his hands from your aching mound and reach for his wallet on the desk, pulling out a condom.

You heard Cillian opening the packet just before he rolled the condom onto his hard shaft. The sound of it made you ache for him even more, knowing that he would be inside you any moment now.

‘Spread your legs for me’ he instructed before he aligned the head of his cock with your entrance.

Instead of pushing into you however, he began to slowly pull you back onto his length. As the tip entered you, you felt your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. It was uncomfortable for a moment, but he went slowly and you soon adjusted.

You slowly took inch by inch, moaning a long guttural moan that seemed to be pushed out of you at the same rate that he filled you.

‘Sssh, we don’t want anyone to hear us, do we?’ Cillian whispered, his breath changing.

Eventually you felt his tip bump into your cervix and Cillian came to a halt, allowing you to adjust to his size.

Once he felt you relax, he quickly backed 3 or 4 inches out of you and then thrust inside you again, being sure to stop just short of your cervix.

From that point forward you were lost in the moment. You bounced back against Cillian’s cock which he met with equal thrusts, each time the head of his cock stretching you and pressing against your g-spot as he slid deeper inside you. You had never felt so full and satisfied in your life. With each thrust you felt the heat and tension building deep inside you.

 ‘Are you going cum for me?’ Cillian groaned as he could feel your legs shivering and your walls tightening.

In the heat of the moment, with his hands on your waist, holding you firmly, and his cock buried in your pussy, you couldn’t hold back much longer.

‘Oh my god, oh my god!’ you moaned in response and Cillian’s hand immediately moved onto your mouth to cover your moans.

Your moans became more and more desperate and your hands clenched the front end of the desk while your eyes slammed shut as you felt the explosion erupt inside you.

‘That’s it’ Cillian moaned as your legs shook uncontrollably and you could barely breathe as your walls spasmed around Cillian’s pistoning cock. When your voice finally returned you let out a wailing scream as you rode through wave after wave of bliss.

Even after your orgasm had subsided, your body twitched and convulsed involuntarily as the aftershocks of being so satisfied rippled through your body. Through it all, Cillian continued his onslaught, watching as you writhed before him, your figure reacting to him in every way he could have wanted. He watched as your pussy gushed around him, dripping all over the floor.

He tried to hold off his own pending orgasm, but the ferocity with which your spasming walls gripped and milked at his cock was too much. As your orgasm began to subside, he could hold out no longer. He groaned and thrust deep inside your as he felt his balls tighten and begin to unload his cum. You felt his already thick shaft swell inside you and begin to twitch and pulse.

When he had finally finished, he pulled out of you and quickly disposed of the condom.

‘Right Y/N, you’ve got what you wanted, now repeat your lines for me’ Cillian smirked as he zipped up his jeans.

 Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal   @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse   @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa  @littlewierdalien  @sad-huffle-nerd  @theflamecrystal   @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @themissthang  @0ghostwriter0  @stylescanbeatmyback  @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni  @momoneymolife  @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03  @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder  @otterly-fey @janelongxox  @uchihacumdump @basiclassy  @being-worthy  @chaotic-bean-of-smolness  @margoo0 @chocolatehalo

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee  @daydreamingnymph  @fookingshelby   

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine

[misscarolineshelby]

Yes, Mr Murphy!

31 Days of Kink: Day 17

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut, Teacher/Student

Requested: Yes!

Words: 758

Notes: Alright, my readers obviously cannot get enough of professor Murphy, so here is more for all you naughty minxes!

Imagine having Cillian Murphy as your drama teacher at university. For weeks now, you have been trying to pursue him and, finally he gave into your needs and, within no time, you found yourself bent over the large oak desk inside his office with his fingers buried deep inside of your wet folds.

***

‘That’s a good girl, now hold nice and still, alright?’ Cillian whispered, causing you to inhale sharply, nervous and excited at the same time.

You nodded as you found those intrusive fingers moving around, sliding out, then spreading, forcing your lips apart. Then, something came sliding between them, pressing into your exposed flesh, pushing deeper into you.

You went dead still as you found Cillian’s cock sliding slowly home, driving slowly but surely into your depths, filling your passage, encouraging it to stretch and accept him, then pushing even deeper.

You stayed there, bent over the desk, frozen still, not able to believe that this was happening.

Cillian was your teacher and, whilst you had been fantasising about him for weeks, you never thought that he would actually agree to take it that far.

‘Oh’ you moaned as Cillian’s hard cock was pushing into you, not in a hurry, but certainly making its way deep inside you.

It was a gentle sweetness that was devouring your will-power, leaving you helpless before its insistent coaxing demand. Your head told you that this was wrong but yet your body wanted it so badly. You felt his groin pressing against your mound, his pubic hairs rubbing against your lips, lips sensitive enough at that moment to feel each and every individual hair brushing against you.

He only stayed fully inside you for a moment, a moment that seemed to last for ages, and then he was pulling out. You were almost sorry to feel him leaving.

You gave a startled little cry when he stopped and started returning. His cock came sliding back down your passage, igniting little fires within you as it came.

Your blood was hot honey flowing through you, warming you, bemusing you, your thoughts jumbled by the way Cillian was using you.

He was most certainly fucking you and you found lifting your hips and pressing back against him, taking him deep and wanting him deeper.

Cillian had settled down to a nice slow rhythm, going in gently but deeply, his very gentleness confusing you.

‘Now tell me again Y/N, why have you been late to class every morning?’ Cillian grunted but you couldn't respond. In fact, you couldn’t even think. How were you supposed to concentrate with a cock pushing into you all the time?

‘Oh’ you moaned again as you tried to open your mouth to speak. But all you could do was groan as delicious lightning swept through your groin.

By this point, you were pushing yourself firmly against his cock as it came sliding into you. A terrible sweetness was filling you, hot honey flowing through your veins, making you lose sense of all that was right or wrong. Feeling like this could only be right, you just knew it.

‘Don’t be late again’ he eventually groaned and you were half expecting Cillian to speed up a little, putting more energy into his action. You didn't know how to feel when he didn't, just continuing to thrust into you in the same smooth fashion, slowly but surely driving you out of your mind.

‘Yes Mr Murphy’ you whined as Cillian continued to thrust in and out of you.

‘Good’ Cillian responded just as you gave a small cry when, suddenly, your climax swept over you, your passage clamping down on Cillian’s cock.

That was all it took to push Cillian over the edge and you could feel his cock throbbing and jerking as it expended itself inside you, before, all of a sudden, he pulled out of you and forced you onto your knees right in front of him.

‘Open your mouth’ he said and you immediately complied with his request, opening widely and allowing him to fill your mouth with his warm and sweet cum.

‘Now be a good girl and swallow’ he then instructed and, after you showed him your cum filled mouth, you swallowed it all with a delicious grin on your face.

‘Thank you, Mr Murphy’ you smirked up at him seductively while he zipped up his pants.

‘Tomorrow, same time?’ he asked, helping you up as he did.

‘Yes Mr Murphy!’ you responded eagerly.

Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang @0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo​ @vhscillian​ @ysmmsy​ @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  ​

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph @fookingshelby

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy imagine

[banalbones]

The Petite Prince: Chapter 4

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, 7, 8

Chapter 4: The Treasure Hunt, Part 1

Summary: Roman is a child. Virgil and Logan lost him, and are on a quest to find him. Meanwhile, Remus loves his baby bro.

Words: 1920

Ships: Familial prinxiety, logince and Creativitwins. Eventual familial royality, roceit and DRLAMP  

Genre: Fluff with a side dose of angst

Warnings: swears, falling, arguing, creepy little gnomes, tell me if there’s any more!

Taglist: @pricklyfish777 @sunflowerblondeuwu @itriedandimtired @draw-your-perfect-world

_____________________________

“Virgil?”

“Yea- oh no…”

“Exactly.”

_____________________________

Logan knew many idiots.

Roman, for one, when he was not a child. Patton, Remus, Thomas and even Virgil, from time to time, were on it.

Logan never knew he could be included on that list, but there he was.

He and Virgil had checked every room in the mindpalace, even Janus’s, but searching for a small child you can’t help but love, whilst simultaneously panicking because you had lost said child, makes you forget certain things.

Remus being certain things.

The pair had somehow managed to forget about the one person (or metaphysical person) who would willingly cause the angelic young prince harm.

The one person!

How does that even happen? How could one overlook something so dire?

Meaning, the resident nerd was in a bad state.

Virgil was in an even worse state.

Logan picked up the small paper crown, being careful not to tear it, and looked to the anxious side.

He really didn’t look great.

_____________________________

He looked horrible, actually.

Hey! It wasn’t that bad!

It was.

_____________________________

Virgil really didn’t look great.

Or feel great, for that matter.

They had lost the bean, which was bad enough, he had already been panicking about that, but, losing the bean to Remus?

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Thoughts were such a beautiful insight to one’s character.

The emo looked to where Logan stood, then to the deep depths of the Dark Imagination.

He had already been to the ‘Light’ Imagination, with its singing birds (annoying) and its lush forestry (also annoying), but the Dark Imagination was still a mystery.

It was comprised of living trees, dead trees, semi-dead trees and any other things that Remus could have thought up.

Meaning, Virgil was terrified to go.

But, he (and Logan) would do what had to be done to save the bean.

_____________________________

Why do you keep calling him ‘the bean’?

‘Cause that’s what I was calling him in my head the whole time.

Aww, cute!

Shut up.

_____________________________

As the left brain boys mentally prepared themselves to go into the hidden depths of the forest of the Dark Imagination, the two brothers (you can’t exactly call them twins at the moment) were having the time of their life.

In Remus’s room, of course.

Remus had seen his fellow sides enter the Imagination, and came up with a brilliant plan.

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

“Hey RoRo, do you wanna prank LoLo and Virgey?”

“Wha d’you have in mi- have in min- in mind?”

“How about we make them go on a little treasure hunt?”

“Yeah!”

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

The smol one hadn’t been hard to convince. He also didn’t know that he was the treasure, which was kinda funny actually, seeing as he kept asking what it was.

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

“Wha’s the trea- the treasure?”

“You’ll have to wait and see.”

“But I don’ wanna…”

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

So, while Logan and Virgil panicked about the paper crown, Roman and Remus created a devious little ‘treasure hunt’.

“Can they figh’ a dra- a dragon?” The miniature royal asked.

Remus looked to the map of the Dark Imagination he had laid out on the table.

“Sure.” He grinned. “Armor and weapons or no?”

Roman giggled.

“With!”

Damnit.

Remus suppressed a groan.

“Whatever you say, little prince.”

_____________________________

The forest was dark and creepy and honestly kind of disturbing.

Virgil shuddered as he caught sight of one of the flying eyes that were following them.He tried to keep his eyes in front of him.

He was failing, but it’s the thought that counts.

“There’s a tower, maybe a mile away.” Logan muttered.

“That’s probably where he’s keeping Roman,”

“No shit, Sherlock.”

A pause.

“I though you didn’t have that one.”

“I now do.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

“No, you can’t, you can hear it.”

“Same difference!”

“That doesn’t even make sen-oh shit!”

Oh shit?

Virgil looked over to Logan.

Wait, where was he?

“Loga-AhHhHhHhHhH!”

_____________________________

Ow. That was unpleasant.

Logan stood up.

Or attempted to stand up.

“Ow!”

Why was this place so small? And dark? He was already blind, for crying out loud. Also, where was Virgil?

…

“AhHhHhHhH!”

…

There, apparently.

“Don’t stand up.”

“What the fu-ow!”

He sighed.

That was what happened when one didn’t follow his instruction.

“I know that sigh. Logan?”

“Yes. It is me, Virgil.”

“You could have warned me about the ceiling.”

“I did.”

“And the hole.”

“I literally fell through it before you. How could I possibly have warned you?”

“By screaming ‘hole’ instead of ‘oh shit’.”

“Well-”

 “HeLlO bOyS!” A voice screeched from somewhere in the darkness.

Virgil screamed and grabbed Logan’s arm.

Ow. Why do I keep getting hurt?

“I hAvE a RiDdLe FoR yOu!”

Virgil tightened his grip, causing Logan to wince.

“What is it?” he questioned.

Might as well.

There was a sound of a throat being cleared.

“WhAt Is SmAlL aNd CuTe, LoVeD wHeN yOuNg BuT nOt WhEn OlD? AnSwEr CoRrEcTlY aNd DoN’t GeT eAtEn By GnOmEs!”

The voice then laughed (or screeched, depending on how nice you are) and disappeared.

For a moment there was silence.

Then,

“What?”

_____________________________

Remus and Roman cackled as they viewed what was happening through the fly-eyes. The treasure hunt was going as perfectly as planned.

(Apart from the two getting hurt, Roman had frowned at Remus for that, causing Remus to pout back. The exchange had ended in giggles.)

“Hey ReeRee?”

“Yeah?”

“I wan’ my cro- I wan’ my crown back.”

Remus turned his head to view the three year old.

_____________________________

He actually looked four at this point.

How come?

He was getting happier, so he was getting older.

Oh.

_____________________________

“Do you want a new one?”

“No.”

“Do you want some cuddles instead?”

“Maybe… but my- but my cr- cr-crown…”

Remus saw the smol one’s lip start wobbling, and oh god if it wasn’t the most heartbreaking thing (apart from hammers).

“Do you want Virgey and LoLo to bring it back?”

And then, as if by magic, Roman adorable little grin returned. He lunged forward, hugging Remus’s long, skinny legs.

“Yeah!”

Remus inwardly let out a sigh of relief. He loved his little brother with all of his (admittedly, shrivelled) heart, but he wasn’t prepared to deal with tears.

“Do you still want cuddles?”

“Duuuuh!”

_____________________________

“A toy?”

The screechy laugh returned.

“YoU iDiOtS! tHe AnSwEr WaS rOmAn! GoOd LuCk WiTh ThE gNoMeS!”

Virgil, for a moment just sat there, shocked.

Roman?

The moment lasted for approximately 0.6 seconds as the sound of footsteps filled the hole.

Many, many footsteps.

Virgil swallowed, his breathing quickening, as Logan scooched closer to him.

Then music started playing.

Virgil took a breath.

Do it for the bean.

_____________________________

“Holy mother of hell.”

That had been terrifying. Even for Logic himself.

He had screamed. So had Virgil. And so they decided they would never speak of the incident ever again.

Logan took a few deep breaths as he regarded his and Virgil’s attire.

His tie was ripped, along with his shirt, and Virgil’s jeans were more than a little worse for wear.

Getting away from the gnomes had been easier one would think, simply crawling through the hole they (he shuddered) had come from allowed them to escape.

It had led the pair to a cave in which they were able to stand.

Thank Einstein, I hate crawling.

 “So, now what?” Virgil’s voice echoed throughout the cave.

Logan stepped forward.

Do it for the child.

“We walk.”

_____________________________

Roman, after a healthy dose of ReeRee cuddles, started to feel curious.

There was so much stuff in Remus’s room, after all, and though his ankle still kinda hurt, he still reeeeeally wanted to poke it all.

Possibly with a stick.

“BroBro, stick?” he asked, missing the way Remus’s face filled with joy at being called ‘BroBro’.

“On the way, your highness.”

Roman like the nicknames. Big him never really got all these nice ones.

After being handed the stick by a grinning Remus, the petite prince took a stool (Or what seemed most like a stool) and started calmly climbing the shelves, poking at the stuff in the jars if it was colorful enough to catch his eye.

Remus, on the other hand, was laying on the floor, hands on his heart.

BroBro.

It was so. Pure.

The young prince would perhaps heal his blackened soul.

The Duke was so distracted by the purity of his baby brother that he didn’t even try to dodge the glob of purple luminescent slime.

He blinked.

And heard a snort of barely muffled laughter.

“I’ve been betrayed,” the trash man said dramatically, “By my own brother, no less!”

More giggles were escaping.

“And I am now… dead.”

Remus let his head flop, hitting the floor with a small crack.

After a few seconds, he felt a small finger poke at his cheek (How had that kid managed to get down so fast?) and a voice.

“ReeRee?”

“Ahhh!”

Remus jumped up to lift his little prince into the air, spinning him around and around and around.

Roman squealed and laughed, his little legs kicking the air.

The cutest boy, change my mind.

_____________________________

Virgil and Logan walked. And walked. And walked.

“Are we there yet?”

Logan deigned not to respond. Virgil had already asked seven times. In the past five minutes.

“Are we?”

His voice was higher this time.

Logan groaned.

“No.”

_____________________________

“Hey L, I see a light! At the end of the tunnel! Freedom!”

Virgil had been panicking (shocking) for the past twenty five minutes.

Logan had been getting increasingly irritated for the past twenty five minutes.

Virgil didn’t know why.

(He definitely knew why.)

“I see it, Virgil.”

“But do you really?”

“Yes.”

…

“Mind if I join your conversation?”

Virgil jumped at the lilting voice.

“I’ll do it anyway. Hello fellow travellers.”

“Who the heck are you?”

A small flame jumped out of the darkness, illuminating a figure with delicate features and large wings.

Wings?

“Why, I’m the Dragon Witch of course! Care for some bones?”

“I thought Roman killed you.” Logan remarked.

“He did. That’s why I’m here. Who else could sell bones but the dead? Speaking of,” the witch smirked, “You should buy some.”

“Why?”

The smirk grew.

“Why not?”  

____________________________

And so, the left brain boys bought a few bones, in exchange for a shoe each, before going on there way.

The Dragon Witch smiled as she slunk back into the shadows.

Remus would be pleased.

____________________________

Remus was most definitely pleased.

Two more shoes for the collection!

“Hey RoBro, look! It’s Virgey’s shoe! And Logan’s!”

“Shoes!”

“Shoes.” He nodded.

Roman was playing with a few birds that had followed him from the Imagination. And the squirrels. And the deer. And all of the other forest creatures.

The smol one truly was a prince.

I wonder if they have names.

_____________________________

Roman was enjoying playing with the creatures, especially Elphaba.

Her emerald green feathers shone brightly in the golden light of… something. He didn’t know what, as Remus’s room didn’t have many lights, lest not gold-ish ones.

Suddenly, a thought popped into his mind.

“Hey ReeRee?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think if I si- you think if I sing, the birdies will- the birdies will too?”

Big him always did that. It seemed fun.

ReeRee looked a bit confused.

“Li-li-li-”

Roman got stuck on the word. They were the worst sometimes!

“Big me!”

Remus seemed to catch on.

“Like big you does?”

Roman nodded aggressively. Yes! Maybe Big Bro would sing with him! That would be so fun!

_____________________________

As Virgil finally stepped out into the light, relishing the sweet, sweet sunlight, a bunch of birds appeared and started tweeting out… a song?

Well that was odd.

“Hey Logan?”

“What.”

“Is that the tower you mentioned seeing earlier?”

Because standing in front of them at fifty feet tall, was a tower.

And on top of that tower, was a dragon.

Fuck.

_____________________________

Thanks for reading this chapter of the Petite Prince!

I’m going to introduce Patton and Janus soon, so which one do you want to see first?

#sanders sides #thomas sanders sides #tss #roman sanders #baby roman #ts roman #remus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #i hc ro as a disney princess #but a prince #feedback is appreciated

[delicatebluebirdruins]

Shadow and Bone

This will contain spoilers (duh) some names being forgotten and its going to get long and some context less chaos

I hope i got the image ids right

Episode one (23rd April)

- ahh so the Fold= Dark Island form VoDT but with less summoning of monsters?

ID: Ben Barnes holding onto the wheel of a boat

- Many smol beans

Brief interlude with Nausicaa Valley of the Wind

Episode 1 cont. up to midway episode 7 (24th)

- magical brown trouser time my good sir

- buddies!!

- they’re not going to leave Alina alone to her existential crisis are they?

That tent looks like a circus tent to me and I have no idea why

- hmm hello completely innocent fallen branch

me: turns to sis and asks if we can we take brief intermission for this headbanger (which we did)

Turns out our brief intermission for the song was useless because after pressing play again it started buffering

we were talking about it and Dad misheard it as shaggy bone

Imagine the darkling but in pastels and black lace

- how the flipping heck can you fake bleeding light

- do you want to get lost Alina?

On Ben Barnes beard: 50% hot damn and 50% fight me (the way he tilts his head in this makes us want to hit him in the jugular)

Episode 3

- ooh look at the stag

- i love the bathroom

- damn Nina

- I wish Alina had time to get some magic tips but oh well

- replays Ben Barnes saying Moya Tsarieta twice

- how?! (Look I told you there was going to be bits where the context is tricky to pin point)

- i love the goat

- oh Jesper

- blue and gold is a great colour combination

- about the dinner scene: if this were me it would be the very rare time I stand up for myself

+ I want to add a small thing about the food taster... one is dream job/ i like him/ and imagine a taster eating something and it goes down the wrong way

- yes Jesper hug the goat- and

ID: a man with his thumb up gif from The Hunger Games; with him saying “nice shooting sweetheart” but I couldn’t find a gif of him saying it

- true north? I am never going to be free of bellarke am I?

- oh that hurts

Episode 4

- “our saint has arrived to late” 🤧

- ohh the stag is so pretty

- horses!!!

- time for a heist- i love this goat

- aww wishing fountain bonding

- the darking is growing on me

- i love Mikhail and Dubrov

- I love what we get to see of Nadia and Marie and Kaz and Inej and Jesper and basically everyone

- i love a heist (this isnwhat the hobbit should of been but you know with more dragons

- Mal is baby

- poor Nina

- ah ha a vicious cycle against the Grisha and Fjerdan

- I thought Arkens reaction was a bit odd

- oh Alina sweet heart- flashback time

- the map room is a aesthetic- using Aleksanders own words against him

That shot of the two of them is great

- poor Alina

- yas queen

- oh the stag!

- oh the machine gun; Mal poor buddy and of course flashback time

- i knew she was going to get the scar removed

Episode 5

- poor Mal

- Nadia is me

- Genya is amazing

- hi David and great minds think alike Alina (i had the same expression on my face when they were flirting)

- oh the creepy masks had a purpose

- “you’re not Ivan” you don’t say

- aand height difference... this first kiss is kind of weird to me

- oh Jesper you flirt

- I’m sorry firey people you’re going to be outshined

- Inej is so beautiful

- Dima?!?!

ID: two people from a scene in the Anastasia Musical the song My Petersburg

- what is the librarians dudes problem?

- Genya you badass... poor Marie (does Alina learn about this?? It would probably be forgotten just like her causing the death of her fellow mapmakers)

- I love the costumes

- Tofin (Idk his name) we don’t know you sorry you’re dead

- oh the kissing

ID: a gif showing two people kissing

- and him giving her the flowers is kind of cute but where did they come from?

- *pinched nose* I hate cryptic messages Baghra... holy shit... i mean I kinda knew he was immortal but still holy shit

- oh Kaz... Inej! Collect your bloody knives

- *snorting* The crows being sent to kidnap Alina and Jesper just watching her climb into the getaway carriage will always be hysterical (i personally would be laughing and thats why anything involving stealth is off the cards for me)

Episode 6

- rest in pieces Arken

- Alina broke Inej

- I love Ivan (remember the thing i said about forgetting names/ getting them mixed up? This is it.. I love Feydor a lot more than Ivan but they are both so cute together)

- my heart will go on starts playing?

- i like that horse statue in the background

- i love the beach... look at those waves... the wet look is great

- you done mess up Alina but also cool

- Mal is burly squid

- “burly squid” wheezing nosies

- now hug

- Kaz I love the cane

- “I see you now” aww

- I knew they were going to snuggle... those cute laughs

- the alarm clock though... i knew Inej should have taken the knife... i love Jesper... poor Inej... clever boy Kaz

- does it hurt? Mal? Does it hurt?

I have a habit at picking at things that hurt and well fictional characters aren’t safe from me wanting to poke something painful

- ride OR die bitches

- aand more height differences... getting very close there guys... Matthias please don’t let her fall.... they are kind of cute

- David through a book... 😂 they carriage jacked the Darkling

- David raising his hand is me... but damn it

- Alina is amazing... please remember you’re wearing the ring... Mal is best boy

- “adorable” snorting noises

Episode 7

- horsey!!!

- ahh the return of the VoDT hair (see first gif)

- Luda is familiar...

- yikes

- poor Aleksander being turned into a pincushion is not a great time

- poor Luda

- holy shit

- rock and hard place

- fuck off Baghra

- he wanted to help 😔

- ah so its like the hollow from Charmed

Image ID: gif from the og Charmed with text saying “ohhh she’s a demon!”

- this shot is beautiful... ah so I guess this could have been what happened if Caspian resurrected the White Witch... i guess

- hi stag.... oh okay 😔 poor Stag poor Mal

Flashbacks to Cinderella and Snow White (the one with Krisien Sterwart) natually it follows along with Snow White

- *squishie noises* poor Jesper... we love you Jesper but please stop talking to Inej just in case she sews her finger to the wound

- i love the crows and i love the chat about the crows

Buffers

The next day (25th) episode continued

- David looks so sad

- personally I would downsize the fold just as reminder of it

- that looks like that hurt

- I love Milo and Jesper 💖

- don’t look at it Alina... Genya is right that colour is horrible... tell her off Alina... poor Genya

- I think Jesper had fun playing a guard

- I knew the Darkling read the letters

Sister: why does he look like Tom Ellis right now?

- oh Mal

- blow dart... lol Kaz

- Milo!?! Oh the bullet you clever boy Mal

- i like the tent... he’s not wrong... we want to play with that dangly bit... oh the angst

- I thought you looked older (idk context)

- I love the outfit but couldn’t the necklace be anywhere else?

- “no mourners no funerals”

- I love the music

Episode 8

- I don’t trust that opening

- me too Crows, me to... how could you not know who Milo is

- I love Nina and Matthias so much... they are so pretty... I am not a fan of taxidermy... oh his name is Feydor sorry we kept getting you mixed up

- God damnit Kirigan.. a not so sneaky Mal... the honorary Crow... pick a side already darkling... Sun Queen?... did anybody notice her being tied down?... Good Mal and good Inej

- Jesper is amazing... so much death... bad bitch Zoya... I love Inej kissing the knife and nailing the Darkling with it... head shot... hello buddy??... this music though... badass Alina... fucking Ivan... holy shit and of course music is amazing

+ brave Kaz

- Inej and Alina bonding time... hugs? No hugs ☹️

- he offered her his hand 😞... Inej wants to hug... finally some hugs... Zoya has grown on me... i love Kanej (is that the ship name)

- Matthias oh no buddy... hill house flashbacks

- i love Jesper so much... Nina going “someone say heartrender??”

Image ID: someone turning around and raising eyebrows at camera

- Kaz saying “she’s a saint” made my heart happy

- I doubt the Darkling is dead...... i was right

- well shit/ coolness of making shadow monsters follow you (please let there be a flashback for this)

Bonus

+ imagine of Matthias and Nina decide to sleep rather than get food and were caught cuddling by the Grisha... I thought of this as I was getting into bed that night and i got up ran to my sister told her my thought she found the idea funny then went back to bed

+ people who own trains are evil?? Looks at snowpiercer

Bonus: the soundtrack is on spotify and itunes

Image id: someone bobbing along with headphones on

#shadow and bone netflix #ellie watches #spoilers #long post