#and they will do the crossword together and shag | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seriouslysam8 · 2 years

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You ranked the couples by their sex lives, and I 100% agree. Here’s why.

I feel like George and Angelina have a regular amount of sex that a happy couple in their late 40’s does. They make it a good time, because I think they have a great friendship and are very compatible. I think Bill and Fleur have a bit less, but when they do it’s damn good sex. They’re in love and it shows. You’re right, Charlie has his fun. I think Ron has to initiate sex with hermione and it’s not much fun when she agrees, but they do have some sex. I think they get along really well when they’re watching a film they both like or debating something small. I think they like hanging out together and bickering. Audrey and Percy, hardly any sex, but they are not mad about it. They prefer reading and doing crosswords rather than trying to force sex when they’re not in the mood. I think they’re content with not really doing that anymore, and just enjoying each other’s company

Then there’s Harry and Ginny. I think they have a straight up abnormal amount of sex for their age, but in the best way possible. I can see them both getting the occasional hip or back injury because even though they’re both in shape, their bodies aren’t made for that much sex at that age lmao. But they’re not ashamed of it. I don’t think it makes them better than the other couples, I just think while George and Angelina would play a drinking game or watch a comedy, and Fleur and Bill would have a romantic dinner, I think Harry and Ginny want to shag in front of the fireplace. Their love language is very physical and that’s just how they are. It’s their preferred activity when they have any alone time and they love to touch each other. They just love sex together. It’s fun and passionate and hot and they want to do it all the time. So I think all the couples have their own strengths, I just don’t think intimacy is one of those for all of them, whereas with Hinny, it’s probably one of their biggest strengths. And at the same time, Harry and Ginny struggle with things that the other couples don’t, which is a whole other convo 😂😂

💯

I agree wholeheartedly with this.

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mascwhump · 2 years

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Trenches, Part 2

Chapter 11 - As the World Caves In

Uh yeah so here’s just some straight up fucking smut that still manages to be somewhat relevant to the plot

Tag list: @whatwasmyprevioususername @whatwhumpcomments @milk-carton-whump @ashintheairlikesnow @tears-and-lilies @utopian819

CW: NSFW (seriously though, it’s not noncon but it’s explicit)

Everyone was quiet the next day. A wicked hangover will do that to you. They spent some of the afternoon making plans for a lot of hypotheticals and what-ifs. Charlie knew they couldn't outrun the government for long, but he kept his mouth shut. They didn't have much. Hope was the one thing they could hold onto. Once they felt a bit better, Charlie and Ethan trekked down to a nearby pond. They skipped stones and talked, just like they used to.

"You know I have to ask. What exactly went down between the two of you to make you trust him so much?" Ethan asked.

"Nothing 'went down'," Charlie replied.

"Then what is it?"

"I think he's just misunderstood, that's all. I think he deserves a chance."

Ethan threw a stone hard and counted the skips.

"He tortured us for almost seven months, and-"

"I know what he did!" Charlie yelled, "Look, nothing I say will justify it. Just... please, believe me."

"I do believe you."

Charlie sat down on a rock by the pond's edge. Ethan sat down nearby and looked for more suitable skipping stones.

"Answer me this, though... did you let him shag you?" Ethan asked.

Charlie put his face in his hands and groaned.

"Look, I'm not going to judge you if you did," Ethan said, "If it makes you feel any better, if I had met him at a bar or something-"

"Good god," Charlie said.

"I'm just saying. So, did you?"

"Yes, but if you tell anyone-"

"When have I ever told your secrets to anybody?"

They spent a few more minutes at the pond. As they were walking back, Charlie hoped they wouldn't return to a crime scene. Luckily, Mallory was on the deck doing a crossword puzzle, while Crow napped inside. Mallory waved to them as they walked up. Ethan went inside, and Charlie sat down next Mallory.

"What are you, sixty-five?" Charlie jested.

"There isn't anything else to do," Mallory replied.

He set the book down on the floor next to him and leaned back against the wall. A small breeze rustled the leaves of the trees surrounding the cabin. Charlie ran his fingers through his hair. It had gotten quite long, and it was starting to bother him. He considered trying to cut it himself, but he knew he would mess it up. Mallory rested his head on Charlie's shoulder and sighed.

"We're fucked, aren't we?" He asked.

"Probably," Charlie replied, "I'm trying not to think about it. It's no use worrying if it's out of my control."

"I wish my brain worked that way."

Mallory was twisting his fingers together. Charlie noticed that it was something he'd do when he was nervous. He looked at his face. His eyes were distant; he was deep in thought. Charlie didn't interrupt him.

The sun was going to set soon, but the clouds would block any beautiful sights. Charlie wished he could see it. Deep down, he knew that it might be one of his last chances to do so. Mallory touched his face, breaking him out of his own thoughts. He turned toward him. Mallory placed a gentle kiss on his lips. Charlie kissed him again, then rested his head against his.

"We can't," he whispered.

"I don't care what he does if he catches us. I'm dead, anyway," Mallory murmured.

He kissed him again, this time with a bit more force. Charlie gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him closer. It wasn't until Mallory slipped his hand under his shirt that he pulled away.

"Later. Tonight," Charlie breathed.

Mallory backed off. Charlie kissed him once more before standing up, then they went inside together. Crow was still asleep, but Ethan was sitting at the table.

Charlie sat down across from him. He could tell by the look Ethan had on his face that he knew something was up. He tried to play it cool.

"So, do you know what's for dinner tonight?" Charlie asked.

"Crow said something about soup," Ethan replied.

His stare felt like he was trying to burn a hole through Charlie's soul. Charlie kept evading his questioning look, and eventually Ethan dropped it.

Crow emerged awhile later and began working on dinner. Mallory was in noticeably better spirit, and only Charlie knew why. He couldn't help but feel guilty. After dinner, Mallory helped take dishes to the sink. He pinched Charlie's ass when Crow wasn't looking. At least, he thought he wasn't. Crow took hold of him and pinned him against the counter. Mallory grinned.

"Hey, knock it off!" Charlie yelled.

"Don't fucking touch him, you hear me?" Crow hissed.

"Got it," Mallory replied, still grinning.

Crow shoved him again before walking away. Once Charlie finished up the dishes, he decided to go for a shower. He tried to be quick so he could get back out there and mediate the tension. Fortunately, nothing had happened. The rest of the night was calm as well. Charlie was grateful. He got into bed with Crow sometime late.

He didn't sleep, though. He waited for Crow to have been asleep for awhile before sneaking out of the room. Ethan was passed out on the couch, but Mallory was wide awake. He got up carefully in order not to wake Ethan, then motioned for Charlie to follow him into the bathroom. Once the door was shut, Mallory grabbed him and started to kiss him with great need. He hardly let him get a breath in before he was pulling his shirt over his head. Charlie had to pull away to breathe, so Mallory began kissing his neck.

"Don't leave any marks," Charlie breathed.

"Fuck that," Mallory muttered against his skin.

He bit and sucked on his neck, completely ignoring his request. Charlie didn't complain. It felt too good. He gently pushed him away after a moment. Mallory was confused, until Charlie dropped to his knees. He locked his eyes with Mallory's as he pulled his sweats and boxers down. Without hesitation, he took his cock into his mouth.

"Oh, fuck," Mallory moaned as he tangled his fingers in his hair.

Charlie maintained eye contact as he worked his way to the base, fitting all of him in his throat. Mallory gripped the counter with his other hand as he started rocking his hips. Charlie moaned as his mouth was fucked. He gagged a bit as Mallory moved faster. He forced himself in all the way, and stayed there. He had Charlie's head pinned against the cabinet so he couldn't move. Charlie plead for air with his eyes, and Mallory finally pulled out after a few more seconds. Spit dripped down the front of Charlie's chin.

Mallory motioned for him to stand up. He moved to turn on the shower to block any noise from escaping the bathroom. He bent Charlie over the sink and tore his pants down. Charlie bit his lip as he felt Mallory push his cock inside of him. He couldn't help but let out a moan. Mallory started off hard and fast, and Charlie couldn't stop the sounds escaping from him. Mallory covered his mouth and forced Charlie's head up. He made him look in the mirror; he wanted him to watch himself get fucked. Charlie's dick was rubbing against the countertop at the perfect angle. He knew it wouldn't take much more.

He pushed back against Mallory's hips. He wanted to feel him as deep as possible. One particularly hard thrust sent him over the edge, and he came hard enough to make his vision darken. Mallory pulled out and pushed Charlie down to his knees again. He jerked himself off until he came, most of it landing on Charlie's lips. He had to lean against the wall to catch his breath. Charlie stood up, his weak legs fighting him. Mallory pulled him against him and kissed him, tasting himself on his lips.

"Fuck," Charlie breathed as he rested his head on Mallory's shoulder.

"Come on, let's get you back out there before you're missed," Mallory murmured.

They kissed once more before getting dressed. Charlie almost fell over multiple times as he pulled on his pants. Mallory turned off the shower before unlocking the door. He peaked his head out to make sure the coast was clear, then they both left the bathroom.

Ethan was still peacefully asleep, and Charlie hoped Crow was the same. He began to feel incredibly guilty as he crawled back into bed next to him. He pulled the covers over his head and fell asleep, exhausted from his escapade.

#whump story #whump oc #don’t @ me #gonna hide now #uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #yeah

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lovelyirony · 4 years

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okay but hear me out hear me out hear me OUT: hunger by ross copperman for rhodeytony

Everyone knows that Tony would die for Rhodey. It’s as easy to see as green grass or a blue sky. He would burn everything down for Rhodey.

Something that others don’t catch onto is how willing Rhodey is to do the exact same. Rhodey doesn’t often tell people his side of the story of how the two met.

As it turns out, Rhodey wasn’t supposed to be in room 63-J, he was supposed to be in 65-J. Due to mix-ups in housing and a particularly horrible employee, Rhodey was moved into what was supposed to be a private room.

“I’m, um, sorry,” Rhodey says. “I can move to a different room, I just have to email the people--”

“Uh-uh, don’t worry about it,” Tony says, eyes shining. “There’s more than enough space in here, and I’d really prefer to have a roommate. I’ve never really shared anything before!”

Tony is a small seventeen year old. Rhodey is eighteen, takes one look at this kid who could honestly pass for fifteen, and realizes that he knows nothing about the real world. Absolutely nothing. His head is empty, and he has no idea about that either.

So Rhodey stays. He teaches Tony how to do things, although Tony isn’t completely helpless. He loves doing laundry and he knows how to cook some serious gourmet shit.

This is how Rhodey learns how to make his own pasta, and Tony smiles as he smears flour against his cheek.

Rhodey teaches Tony what coffee to drink, which restaurants are the best. (This does not stop Tony from eating at Burger King near-religiously.) Tony learns how to dress how he wants, and to stop showing up to classes in what is essentially a full suit.

Tony falls in love with old jeans, worn band tees that he finds after combing through racks of all the thrift stores.

He laughs as he makes Rhodey get a neon orange fanny pack.

“Since you claim you always lose your shit at parties,” Tony teases, grinning.

Tony’s a kid.

And yet...not a kid.

He knows immediately who to trust, who to avoid. The way he phrases things has Rhodey’s head going in circles. He’s brilliant with people, to a point where he can drive anyone away.

Except for Rhodey.

He made a promise over Thanksgiving break, when Tony realized that his mother penned a note explaining that “darling, your father and I are still in the Maldives, so you have free reign of the house for Thanksgiving...”

It meant that he would be Completely Alone.

Well, Rhodey wasn’t having that.

“If I have to clean the carpet, I’m forcing you with me,” Rhodey says. “And I promised that I would bring a dessert, and I know that you make killer tiramisu.”

“If I only have to prove that I’m clearly the better roommate, then so be it,” Tony says dramatically. “Take me away, Jim-dear.”

(He cannot stop calling him that after they stole the VCR of Lady and the Tramp from the English department’s catalog. Not like they’re gonna miss it.

Rhodey cannot stop thinking about how much he really, actually loves it, that nickname.)

Tony is shy when he gets to the house, although Dad immediately pulls Tony into the family.

“Rhodey promised us a dessert but I know that he didn’t inherit my cooking skills, so I’m assuming he’s just promised you,” he says.

“Yes he has, Mr. Rhodes,” Tony says, grinning. “How do you feel about tiramisu?”

Tony later on impresses Mrs. Rhodes--from that night on, referred to lovingly as “Mama”--with his piano playing skills. Tony’s perfect memory reads notes as if he’s always known them, and plays piano with a skilled sort of ease. He even adds his own little stylings, making it even better as Rhodey watches his parents dance.

They haven’t done that in years, not since Rhodey was little and they still had the old record player with Billie Holiday and Duke Ellington records stacked to the side among others.

Tony laughs along with the music, grinning as his little sister tells him every single embarrassing story about Rhodey.

“He thought watermelons grew on trees,” Jeannette says, cackling. “Can you believe that?!”

“I can,” Tony says, putting a finger to his chin. “And I think that if no one had told you, you still would.”

“Of course if no one had told me I still would! That’s how belief works!” Rhodey calls out.

“Shush,” Mama says, smoothing a hand over Rhodey’s hair. “Some people are dumb, baby, it’s okay.”

Rhodey makes an offended squawk, and Tony laughs.

They go to sleep in Rhodey’s bed. It’s a queen, not like they both can’t fit onto it.

And if Rhodey wakes with Tony curled into his arms, soft breathing? If Rhodey realizes that life could be like this all the time if they really wanted it to?

Well. It’s not the worst thought in the world to have. Not by a long shot.

This feeling continues on long after they graduate, when they start spending every holiday they can together. They always make a dessert together and Rhodey always gets something Super Shit from the thrift store.

Last year, it was a mug proclaiming “Best Regional Staff Manager of 1978.” He has just discovered that he could custom-order a burnt orange shag carpet, and Tony will put it into his bedroom.

And then Afghanistan.

Rhodey grieves like nothing else. He is almost always dehydrated from crying, he can barely eat, and Pepper has to check in on him.

“You smell bad,” she tells him one night.

“I know.”

“Go shower.”

“Later.”

“No, now. I swear to god if Tony knew you smelled this disgusting, he’d douse you in Chanel no. 5, and I know how you feel about that.”

Rhodey manages to get out a small smile.

He showers. He feels a bit better.

And he starts looking.

Everyone in his squad and in the military itself thinks he’s crazy for still looking. The chances of Tony being alive are less than fifty percent. He is most likely dead, but Rhodey can’t stop looking. He just can’t.

He gets Tony in his arms months later, skinny and frail and yet still so alive. Rhodey tells him he’ll never let go.

“Not even to let me take a wizz?” Tony asks, smile weak. Rhodey laughs and lets a little bit of tears slip out.

He does something that was not supposed to happen.

He leaves the military.

Realizes that that isn’t what he wants, night after night, to count down days until he’s back in Tony’s arms. He wants to work alongside his someone, to smile at him, and cook breakfast.

It’s at this time when Tony keeps coming into his room.

“Like old times?” he asks. Begs, almost. Rhodey nods.

“Always, Tones. You know that.”

Tony introduces him to Iron Man, and Rhodey oohs and ah’s, questioning what works and why it had to be that garish, bold red.

“Aw sweetheart, who else would pick such a color scheme?”

Rhodey grins and asks when he’s getting his own suit.

“I do not believe in a god, but I think I might start praying,” Jarvis says dryly, and they both snicker.

It is Rhodey who helps keep Tony from working himself to the bone, forcing him to come with him.

“Come on, it’s pizza night and you have to help me make breadsticks otherwise I’m not putting on enough garlic butter.”

“Rhodey I know that you love garlic butter so this is essentially an empty threat but I will and can kill you.”

Rhodey snorts as Tony chases him around the kitchen.

Then the Avengers.

Natalie Rushman comes into Tony’s life, and Rhodey just knows she isn’t who she says she is.

Doesn’t help that Tony’s reckless and trying to hide a pretty impressive crossword along his chest.

What’s an eleven-letter-word meaning “a destroying agency?”

(Destruction.)

He doesn’t let her even near Tony.

“I’m supposed to be here,” Natalie says plainly. She has a coy smile on her face.

She does not know that for a wild variety of reasons, this will not work on Rhodey.

“So am I,” Rhodey says evenly. “So I guess we’ve come to a stalemate. I’ll give him the paperwork. You can ask Pepper about the gala’s appetizers and security measures, as I’m sure you have questions.”

He knows she doesn’t. He also knows that Tony won’t look into her because he’s--

He’s busy.

Just that.

(Not dying, his brain whispers insidiously. Not planning a trip six feet or below.)

Rhodey does not blow off Tony when they have a fight in the house, when Tony wants everyone to leave and get out and tries to get Rhodey to leave by saying he’s a sidekick.

“You idiot,” Rhodey scowls. “If I’m a sidekick, what does that make you? The very minor character?”

“What? No, I’m Iron Man--”

“Yeah, but still. I think Pepper or someone else would be the main character. Quit being an idiot and help me clean up the glass you shot at, idiot.”

Tony doesn’t like knowing that Rhodey knows. He also doesn’t like Pepper screams about an omelet and how “It wasn’t even that good Tony! How did you mess up eggs! You didn’t even get any seasoning!”

Rhodey laughs. Helps Tony discover that a.) SHIELD is a bunch of assholes collectively getting a salary, and b.) Howard still had tricks up his sleeve.

But tricks are tricks.

You get a solution? Well, that’s even better.

Tony smells like metal and coconuts, and Rhodey whoops with joy.

Tony kisses him on the lips, and it’s amazing and he definitely wants more of that, and--

“Okay we gotta go take down an evil genius,” Tony says, grinning. “Come on sugar-plum.”

War Machine and Iron Man work like a dream together, and they’re panting and tired but smiling at the end of all of this.

“Sour patch, we need a vacation,” Tony says. “We need to just. Lay somewhere.”

“Agreed, honey.”

So after all of these years, they become an item. A couple. People who love each other and don’t get too mad when someone else eats all of the butternut squash soup (Rhodey).

And Tony will tell anyone who listens how in love he fell, so hard, and Rhodey will smile and agree.

But he’s pretty sure that he’s the one who fell first.

#rhodeytony #ironhusbands #anyways rhodey is in LOVE and he LOVES it #lovelyirony writes #tony stark #iron man #war machine #rhodey #james rhodes #rhodes family #anyways yes i love them

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jynzandtonic · 4 years

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hello yes, I am feeling tender. *blows trompet* Would you be so kind do some Sunday morning snuggles/smooches/spooning/shagging *austin powers voice* Gimme some for all the boys you wrote for ;) ;) ;) love u fren x

Hehehehehe I got this down to under 1k BETTER LATE THAN NEVER! Darling, please enjoy these breakfast snaccs.

Ronnie likes to snuggle up close to you and kiss you awake, juuust enough. Both of you smiling, eyes half-closed, he shifts down your body, staying under the covers if it’s still chilly. He rests his head against one of your thighs while he softly sucks at your clit, the stubble on his face delightfully scratchy against your skin. Once you’ve cum a time or two or three, once he’s gently worked a finger then two and then three inside to stretch you—he can slip right in for the sweetest, laziest morning sex. And after that, because it’s Sunday and he always does… Ronnie makes you pancakes.

Clyde wakes up hard and thick almost every day, his length already tappin’ at your backside of its own accord before either of you are quite ready to shake the warm lull of sleep off. When you guide him into your heat, he hums and kisses the back of your neck, pumping gently and rubbin’ your clit. You drift back to sleep after you’ve both cum—full of him, full of his seed. You’ll both wake up when he’s hard inside you again.

You and Flip have a bit of a routine on Sunday mornings… none of which involves clothing. First, you wake up and have a lazy, sleepy fuck—your bodies both bed-warmed and heavy, the covers draped around you. Next comes coffee and the crossword. Flip lets you put on a robe long enough to grab the paper from the mailbox while he puts the kettle on, then it’s back to bed with your mugs and puzzle. When the two of you have finished, you fuck rough and hard—gotta get yourself dirty before you shower and work up an appetite for breakfast, right?

Phillip thinks it’s a terrible idea to wake up until he remembers he’s in bed with you, and then he’s all fuckin’ kinds of grabby and snuggly. An ass cheek, a titty, a wayward thigh—he gets his hands on whatever he can find with his eyes half-closed. When you’re lying on your stomach, he’ll roll right on top of you, pushing into your pussy in one swift, hot stroke; he knows you always wake up wet enough to take him.

Toby loves watching you sleep on his chest when he wakes up before you; he loves how soft your features are and how slow your breathing is. He loves it almost as much as when you blink your eyes open, kissing your way down his chest and teasing him with your tongue. The dappled morning light is so beautiful rippling over your body as you ride his cock—so unrehearsed, so sincere.

Sometimes, you wake Sackler up with his cock in your mouth. It’s hard to resist doing more often when you get drowsy feedback like “this is the best day of my entire fucking life,” but you still keep it as a special treat for slow mornings. You take your sweet, sweet time getting him hard—feeling him grow thick and long in your mouth as you suck and tongue so, so gently. By the time he wakes up, he’s throbbing, hips writhing under you.

Dan’s a big-spoon kinda guy; you always wake up with his arms wrapped around you, his long, lean body flush with yours. You twist onto your back so you can kiss his cheeks, his forehead, his plush lips—and he smiles before he even opens his eyes. It’s just so easy to drape your legs over his when he’s curled on his side like this, to grind your wet cunt against his hips until his grasp on your waist is bruising—oh, he can fuck into you so deep from this angle.

Sunday mornings with Charlie are a time you get to savor being slow together. His hands are in your hair, stroking your skin, marveling at your softness; his lips are on your temples, your cheekbones, your jawline. Just kissing. Touching. Feeling. It’s hard to tell where you stop and he begins with your leg hooked over his hip, not a wisp of space between your bodies. You share gasps when you cum, pressed forehead-to-forehead.

Many Sundays, you and Rick wake up in a double sleeping bag just outside of some National Park or wilderness preserve. He’s generally already got the little blue-enamel French press going, the smell of hot coffee wafting over to pluck you from your dreams by the time he’s snuck back in bed with you. You wake up with the light—sunrise colors seeping into the bright blue morning—but you’re not in a rush to get out of your sleeping bag while it’s still cold. Plus, you’ve got a few heat-generating activities lined up while the second pot of coffee brews.

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fireflake-art · 4 years

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HC: Mystery Gang

The gang's all here! (Except Scoob, but this is mostly a shipping piece.)

Inspired by all the content coming across my dash, I decided to whip up a late 50th birthday for these characters; Velma Dinkley, Fred Jones, Daphne Blake and Shaggy Rogers. The OG meddling kids.

I've always loved this crew. When I was younger, my favorite aunt and I would spend the entire day in our pajamas and binge Scooby Doo movies. My favorites as a kid were Ghoul School and Cyberchase. Those are some of my fave memories with that aunt, who I recently found out isn't as good of a person as I had thought. Scooby Doo might seem childish, but these guys were my childhood, y'know? They were important to me, and they still are.

(I've actually been thinking about making an Ao3 fic about em. Can you believe it)

Down to the headcanons

- They're a polyam quad! Bi Daphne, lesbian Velma (is somewhat into guys a tad bit, she just prefers lesbian), bi (and trans) Fred, and pan Shaggy.

- Velma's Hispanic! Specifically Latina. Shaggy's half-Mexican, half-Irish. While we're at it; Daph is Asian and Fred is an all American boyo.

- Daphne's Catholic and Shaggy and Velma are Jewish

- Fred has a distant relationship with his adoptive father, ever since his adopted mom left them when Fred was a little girl. Their bond was pretty decayed already when Fred came out in his young teen years, but it only got worse from then. Fred's dad doesn't abuse him physically, or verbally; he's present, sometimes, but not in an emotional sense.

- Fred has a lot of learning disabilities, including dyslexia, dyscalculia, and ADHD. This made it hard for him in class, which is how he met Daphne and Velma in early middle school. Daph and Vel were competing for the smartest of the grade; as an attempt to get the girls to be friendly to each other, they were both assigned to tutor Fred. Fred was, and still is, a well-meaning dumbass that drinks respect women juice, so both girls warmed up to him and his attempts to get them to be friends.

They were soon assigned to Shaggy, too, who was failing his classes because he was taking too many "sick" days, when in fact he was too anxiety-filled to get out of bed and face anyone.

The group quickly became besties and shared their full selves. Velma was there when Shaggy admitted to his parents about his anxiety, and they all went to choose a support dogo for him. (Scooby's legally Shaggy's emotional support dog, but Shaggy doesn't mind sharing.)

- As young teens, the group originally went by the Scooby Doo Detective Agency, before changing it to Mystery Inc/the Mystery Gang.

- Fred wears two shirts to better hide his breasts and help his dysphoria. His white shirt is actually a sweater, and under it is a button-up fancy blue long-sleeved shirt.

- Daphne is his hairdresser and fashion advisor, as she is for all of them. Daph always makes sure that whatever she suggests is within their comfort range.

- Shaggy has a panic disorder. Scooby Doo is his emotional support animal. Shaggy uses prescription marijuana to help with it.

- Daphne is always trying to prove herself (example; always running into danger and getting kidnapped) because her parents always compared her, the youngest, to her big sisters. Her sisters were successful, wealthy and independent women, while typical Daph had to keep getting saved by her partners. She loves feeling important, like she's the focus of everyone's attention. She tries to excel at everything, but is slowly starting to get better at not sprinting blindly into danger. (You can thank the Gang for that.)

- Daphne's mother is a celebrity supermodel by most days, acholic by night/some days. Her dad is a famous author. Neither of them approve of most of the things in Daphne's life; bisexuality, polyamory, mystery solving, Velma, Fred, Shaggy, Scooby... The list goes on.

- Daphne is an honorary member of the Hex Girls. She shows up sometimes when the triad needs another voice on stage. (Also, the Hex Girls are lesbians.)

- Velma's the mom friend.

- Velma Dinkley has always had a fixation for mysteries and figuring things out. She enjoys puzzles, crosswords, riddles, detective novels, serial killer documentaries, and horror movies. (She can always guess who the killer is.)

- She is fluent in Latin, Spanish, Mandarin and Morse Code.

- Velma's incredibly flexible, having taken martial arts and gymnastics as a child.

- This isn't headcanon, but I feel the need to mention it, as I don't think a lot of people know this is actually canon in multiple movies. Velma has a little sister named Madelyn, also known as "Doe Eyes Dinkley". Madelyn is a stage magician and is in clown college. She is an extroverted woman with a giant crush on Shaggy, who she continues to pine over. Both sisters are very overprotective of each other and mostly have a friendly relationship.

- The Gang eventually drop out of their shared community college to pursue mysteries, and to get away from their disapproving parents and overwhelming responsibilities. Velma does decide to take up online courses to get her degree.

(The Mystery Gang, including football jock Fred and track captain Shaggy, could have went to more prestigious schools, the girls because of their smarts and the boys on sport scholarships, but they were pressured to stay where their parents could see them.)

And that's my headcanons for them. I didn't mention some stuff because it's canon, but I'll recap real quick; Velma has coulrophobia (clown phobia) and aquaphobia (fear of water/sea), Scooby has an excitable, somewhat annoying nephew (Scrappy Doo), they're junior detectives/amateur sleuths, Fred's allergic to cats, they live in the Mystery Van, road trip for life, Shaggy's real name is Norville, Shag was briefly a vegetarian, Shaggy can do voice impressions, he was once a junior pilot, Daphne's a black belt in karate, Daph has a motorcycle, is an amateur musician, was a journalist a couple times, the Gang occasionally break up and go their seperate ways until a long-yearned for mystery pops up and serves as an excuse to get back together, those deals.

Peace! ✌️

Reference by @croxovergoddess;

Literally only 2 progress pics;

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fourmisfitz · 5 years

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4, 17 and 43 with rog please!

We back on the grind tonight since my Friyay plans got cancelleddd.

I’ve gotten six requests for 4&17 for Rog, so I’m going to conquer that here + 43, I hope y’all enjoy what came out of it! …Lowkey feel like this should turn into a miniseries… what do y’all think??

“Could you stay out of this, for once?” + “She sure is smiling tonight” + “That is a terrible idea perfect for a time like this”

Roger was repeatedly flicking the corner tabs of his pack of Malboros.

“Oh would you quit being so mopey? Sadness is not a look you wear well, Rog.” Freddie teased, taking a sip of his pint.

“ ‘m not mopey… and shut it.” Roger finished the last gulp of his pint, the glass rim nicking his sunglasses back.

Freddie gazed up at the dim lighting fixtures hanging over the bar counter.

“Can you think of a two-syllable word that is synonymous with deeply pathetic?”

“What am I, a bloody crossword puzzle?” Roger’s cigarette bobbed between his lips.

There was a pause as Freddie thought of something.

“ ‘Roger’ works too.” He quipped, tilting his head in a shrug shamelessly.

“I am not being pathetic.”

“You’re sitting in your exes favourite bar on a Friday night and it’s forty-five minutes from your flat, not to mention you own a hundred shirts and you chose that one.” Freddie dragged his pen up and down gesturing to Roger’s black tshirt. “Roger, pathetic may as well be written on a bumper sticker for you.” He shrugged, returning to his lyrics.

“I like this shirt.” Roger’s tone grew defensive.

“ ‘Course you do, it’s soft. Y/N has good taste.”

Roger shook his head, rolling his eyes and took a long drag from his cigarette. He turned his head slightly to avoid blowing the smoke stream in the bartenders face, allowing his gaze to follow with his chin.

And then you walked in, causing him to cough the last inch out.

Roger and you had broken things off a few months ago and it was safe to say neither of you were handling things well. When he wasn’t playing small gigs with his new band Queen, he was catching girls, seeking out impromptu shags all in his pursuit to forget about you.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t resist tensing his hands when they’d reach into another girls hair and they weren’t rewarded with smooth, soft hair that they would effortlessly glide through.

He would get giddy every Wednesday morning when he awoke because those were your days off and you two made it a tradition in your year of dating to grab waffles together at 9:00am sharp… and then he’d remember, heading right back to sleep. He was late for his dream.

You would wake up from dreams of you breaking up and instinctively reach for your phone, but you’d get halfway through his phone number before realizing.

Roger would have dreams where breaking up was a dream, and then: cold world.

Several times he had almost begun a new relationship, but he was lying his way into them, claiming to these other girls that he had feelings which he actually hadn’t felt since he got to brush his hand through your hair or watch you walk into a room and feel his whole being relax.

This time was no different, except of course, he wasn’t meeting with you. He was watching you walk in and he felt a flutter in his heart. You hadn’t spoken to each other since the breakup. Now was his chance, you were here - probably in search of a new guy to booze your night away with, and he could swoop in and save you from a night of bad jokes.

Roger rested his hands on the edge of the bar counter, and then after a moment of consideration he nodded and pushed his stool out to stand up.

“Don’t do it, Rog.” Freddie advised, brows furrowed, concentrating on lighting his cigarette in his cupped palm.

“Could you stay out of this, for once?” Roger retorted, knowing he was probably right but turned back to your direction.

He watched for a moment as you looked timidly back at the door, moving your eyes between it and the crowd, scanning faces.

This was it. He was going to do it.

He lifted his sunglasses into his hair and took a sure breath before walking over, only to pivot and walk right back before you could notice.

Freddie felt him slide back onto the stool beside him as his eyes remained on the paper in front of him.

“ ‘Brought another lad?”

“Yyyyup.” He popped he ‘p’.

Freddie waved over the bartender as Roger hesitantly snuck another look at you.

Freddie slid another pint of Lager in front of him as his eyes remained glued to you.

The man looked nothing like Roger, but you looked all the same, just better. Clearly you were just as devastated, trying to find someone nothing like your ex, Roger thought. You hadn’t drastically changed your hair or dressed differently, in fact, you were wearing a dress Roger had seen quite a few times on you - and on his bedroom floor. One he had bought for you.

The man wrapped his arm around your waist and Roger darted his eyes back to the foam settling in his cup.

Rogers hand tightened around the glass of beer as he clenched his teeth, the sound of your laughter rising above all other noise.

He glanced over again, as did Freddie.

“She sure is smiling tonight.” Freddie breathed out a puff of smoke as he turned back to his lyric journal to scribble.

Roger’s eyes remained on you and your date.

“Yeah, she is.”

He replaced his sunglasses over his eyes and lit another cigarette.

A few moments later, you were scoffing at the handsy man you once regrettably referred to as your date, walking to the other far end of the bar.

He didn’t think twice about chugging every drop right then and there.

“rrrrrog,” Freddie warned as he caught him retreating his bar stool once again from his peripherals.

“Will you lay off?” His raspy voice chimed.

Freddie huffed. “Fine, you want to ruin your chances of ever talking with Y/N again so be it, I won’t stand in your way-”

“Thank you.” Roger snapped.

“But as long as you’re aware that is a terrible idea.”

“Maybe,” Roger pinned his cigarette in the ash tray. “but it’s a terrible idea perfect for a night like this.” Roger concluded, promptly marching over to you.

“And what night is- and your shirts inside out, for Christs sake, blondie.” Freddie murmured to himself.

“This seat taken?” Freddie looked up to see a handsome, charming man smiling at him before stretching to see the status of Roger and you, noticing he had bought you a drink and dragged out the stool adjacent to yours.

“Nope.” He smiled at the new gentleman.

____

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maythememebewithyou · 6 years

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Constantine NBC The Saints of Last Resorts ( Sentence Starters )

“I always figured that one of us would flee to Mexico, but I thought there’d be tequila involved. Or skinny-dipping.”

“Did you know we were coming to a convent?”

“It’s one gory detail she left out.”

“Should’ve shagged you then.”

“I’m telling a desperate man that there are things we can do to get his son back other than pray.”

“We can’t outrun it.”

“I don’t know how you do it, but my soul can’t take another lost child.”

“If you need me, scream.”

“That won’t be a problem.”

“And you charged up here with nothing but your wits? Woman after my own heart.”

“Would I be coming to you if I was alright?”

“I still get scared walking alone at night.”

“I’ve been having nightmares about this stuff.”

“Your arrogance is out of control.”

“Give the history lesson a break, eh? Do the bloody crossword or something.”

“You’re concerned about me?”

“You know you never had anything to repent for.”

“That was my failure. You don’t owe anything for that.”

“It’s not a good idea to split up.”

“The house will keep you safe as long as you don’t leave it.”

“We slept together once if that’s what you’re after.”

“That’s how he deals with the pain.”

“Don’t you ever, ever call me that again!”

“I can see it now, it’s not that you don’t care, it’s that you can’t care about anybody and do what you do.”

“Don’t do this, don’t play this game.”

“This kind of pathetic ruse might have worked with ____, but I think I deserve a little more respect.”

“No price is too high to save the innocent.”

“Thank you for your honesty.”

“You didn’t even ask, ____.”

“I’ve been carrying hell around with me my whole life. How much worse can the actual place be?”

“It’s not that I can’t help you, ____. I won’t.”

“You’re the one who put a bullet in his chest. He’s just trying to save his life.”

“An exorcism for an exorcist. Let’s do it.”

“I have to admit, I never thought you’d do anything this stupid.”

“You know, I probably never got a chance to say this, but I know what I put you through, and... I’m sorry.”

“He’s prone to over confidence.”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m hosting a monster that doesn’t take kindly to threats.”

“____ believes he has every situation under control, and he makes you believe. That’s his magic, and his curse.”

“You invited a demon into your body.”

“The First of the Fallen gives temporary power to those who believe his lies, but they become his possessions.”

“It’s bad. It’s really bloody bad.”

“Just show me where to sigh, and I’ll be on my merry way.”

“You’re possessed by a demon.”

“I feel surprisingly good.”

“I know it’s asking a lot, but I could really use your help.”

“Hopefully we can find him before he hurts someone else.”

“Oh bloody hell.”

“Well, I can’t really say I’m in the mood, mate.”

“Oh, I know what it looks like. Don’t get any ideas.”

“You took a hell of a risk, sneaking in here like this.”

“Tie me down. Make it nice and tight.”

“It’s been too long, it’s in me too deep.”

“I’m hanging on by a thread here.”

“I know you want to be here, ____, but an exorcism is dangerous.”

“Listen. I need you to do this. You have the strength. I just need you to summon it up one last time.”

“____, please. You’re our only hope.”

“When this one’s purged, I’ll razor your eyes and feed them to the fallen and the damned!”

“Your hatred and your rage; you make your own prison.”

“You have to forgive yourself.”

“Whatever damage he’s done, whoever he’s hurt, it was never because of you.”

“I suppose if I was to offer my thanks, you wouldn’t believe me.”

#constantine nbc #sentence starters #rp meme #rp sentence starters

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idearlylovealaugh · 7 years

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five things

I was tagged @aloemilk - thanks, lovely lady! I'm going to try to do this real quick and not to think too hard about the answers b/c I am so far behind on things these days...

Five things you’ll find in my bag:

a little wristlet that has my wallet and phone

a book for reading at lunch/in waiting rooms

coupons that I will guaranteed forget to use at the grocery store

a mini moleskine notebook

a scarf or sweater b/c I'm always cold

Five things you’ll find in my bedroom:

a different book for bedtime reading

an NYT crossword puzzle book

lip balm

a white shag area rug that tbh I want to sleep on instead of my bed b/c it's so soft

a bud vase with whatever's blooming in it

Five things I’ve always wanted to do:

find the magical organizational method that will keep my house clutter-free

be a contestant on Jeopardy

see Machu Picchu

learn Spanish

Just be myself and be comfortable and confident and also not let my anxiety and fear completely control my life (:

Five things that make me happy:

my fam

excellent Ron & Hermione fic

seeing the flowers I planted grow

the beach

sitting out on the deck on a warm night under the glowy lights we strung up, having a drinking and watching the fireflies

Five things I’m currently into:

Ron and Hermione duh

90s Mulder in glasses

Brooklyn 99

iced tea with mint

history podcasts

Five things on my to do list:

finish a one-shot that I started like a year ago

finish getting stuff together for my kid's bday party in a few weeks

alter a dress that I got on sale that needs taking in

send a gift to my friends that just had a baby

repaint the bedside tables and hang a floating shelf in the bedroom

Guys, forgive me for not checking to see who's already done this or already been tagged or just doesn't like to do these games: @theperksofshippingromione, @callieskye, @trademarkblue, @jenahid, @thefinalhorcruxx, @azaleablueme

#personal #sorry that I'm bringing back all the stuff that everyone did last week #playing catch-up

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hellogreenergrass · 7 years

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Signy Island - Week Five

13th January – All lab work and no field play makes Jes a grumpy fucker. Must think of the scientific papers…think of the papers….must. get. papers. WONT ANYONE THINK OF THE PAPERS!

Not much gone on so I’ll write about the mundane stuff. We start work at 8.30am every day, I normally kick off by doing the monitoring of all my experiments early on. At 10.30, we all grind to a temporary halt and converge on the lounge where we will do the days crosswords from the emailed newspaper that we get: Several A4 pages of the latest headlines and a few paragraphs of story. About 60% of the paper is sport, so we are largely in the dark about what is actually going on in the world. But we do get 2 crosswords which are a significant feature in our daily lives. At first, I avoided them because I didn’t get all the answers on my first go (I have a petulant side that doesn’t like doing things Im not good at). But have since realised that that is normal, and that actually Im not bad at them. And its also good for the noggin. 1-2pm we stop for lunch, and then unless busy will stop again at 16.30pm for another bash at the crossword if we haven’t already finished it. Back to work again and then we roll the dinner tables out for 18.30, immediately followed by gash duties. Gash is a shipping/military term for chores. A lot of the slang that’s used in BAS comes from the military or merchant navy probably because there isn’t much practical difference between them. Other than we science other than war. Just that small thing… After dinner and chores, we are done for the day. Or not, as is usually my case. Sometimes we will get together and watch an episode of something - It was Game of Thrones, now we are onto Deadwood. Or maybe we will go for a hike, perhaps go out watch wildlife and take photos, or just sit in the lab until midnight torturing bugs and hoping that this will all pay off and you’ll be able to write your own post-doc grant, thereby setting yourself up in employment for at least another few years…

16th Jan – I got out!! I HAD A DAY OFF!! I went over to North Point, unsurprisingly at the Northernmost tip of the Island, with Stacey, Alex and Megumu. I was meant to be on a reccy of my control field site over the moss banks on that side of the ice cap, but ended up spending the whole day helping Stacey count penguin chicks. PENGUIN CHICKS! First we hiked up to the Skidoo depot, and then drove lengthways along the ice cap for a couple of miles to Spindrift Col. From here it’s another few miles hiking down mountain across moss banks and scree slopes. The Point was bird mecca: Colonies of Giant Petrels, huge majestic birds that are like the Albatrosses’ ugly cousin, but wonderful none-the-less; Adelie penguins, those of goggly eye fame and now to be known to me also as the muckiest penguins of them all. If their chicks weren’t brown to start with I’m sure they would have ended up that colour. You can see their colonies from a distance, big pink-brown splodges of poo. Then there were two Chinstrap colonies, a more refined penguin in my opinion; and a large and sprawling Gentoo colony that had spread over about 500m2. The Gentoos’ are quite elegant looking birds with neat black heads and orange beaks, and a clear eye that is ringed by white. Enough to define it, but not so much as to make them look like cartoons, unlike the Adelies. Up on the point proper was a Blue-Eyed shag colony of about 200 nests. Bloody odd birds. They build their nests like little clay islands on the rocks, and then shit all around them so that they look like they are marooned on a teeny tiny volcano in a sea of poo. The dinosaur chicks that they raise in place of actual birds were nearly the size of the adults, yet were still feeding like they were a fraction of the size. Birds regurgitate their catch for their young, but the shags do it all back to front, seeming to swallow their young, let them feed on the catch within, and then regurgitating the bewildered chick back up. Makes me gag just recalling it. Weirdos.

In between herding chicks about so that we could feasibly count them , which is one of the cutest things Ive ever seen by the way, I sat in amongst the bird colonies and watched and learned. I learnt the moves of the bonding dance between a breeding pair of Chinstraps, watched how a Giant Petrel took flight simply by stretching out it’s wings and letting the breeze do the rest, and obsessed over getting a shot of them coming into land, like huge feathered planes. I saw how Adelies, for all their ridiculousness were very protective over not just their own chicks but also others. I saw a Gentoo chick fight off a skua twice its size and then saunter back to colony like nothing had happened. And I also held a Chinstrap chick. And nearly squeaked my way into oblivion in the process it was all so damn adorable. A grey bundle of soft warm down that fitted into my two cupped hands…and my pocket if there weren’t other people around.

As we wrapped up for the day and started the hike back up to the ice cap, the sky started to break apart and the grey that had hung above us all day split into shards and pockets of brightness. In the distance the light fell in silver bands across a glacier and lit up icebergs that sat in its bay. It was all very moving. I needed this day.

#antarctica

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