#and yes this has been on the list of GO ideas for at least four years

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

BORIS JOHNSON RESIGNS AS MP. Thoughts? The people howl for a new update to the Big Dog the Clown saga.

Yes this was not on my personal bingo card; my most recent Big Dog event was that a friend of mine works for air traffic control and recently had to delay BoJo's holiday flight by four hours, and on being told that this particular plane had to be prioritised for a runway slot because it contained an Important Clown promptly pushed it to the bottom of the priority list. Lol. And then all this! What larks.

Okay not a lot of detail yet still but LET'S TAKE A LOOK AT THE EVENTS OF 9TH JUNE, 2023 and you know what? It's been a while. Let's do it properly.

7.15am

Another day dawns in the reign of evil Grand Vizier-turned-PM Rishi Sunak. He's a very boring flavour of evil, tbh. Say what you will about Johnson, but at least there was spectacle and showmanship to his clownshow. Something for the children to boo and hiss. An animate ham in a villain's wig, something to really enjoy as you sit back, relax, and savour a tall, cool glass of schadenfreude.

By contrast Rishi just gets sycophants - who are no less ridiculous, but far more grey and boring - who pretend he's a tech bro because "he understands AI" and they think that will make him a visionary and a man of the future and maybe some sort of Elon Musk figure, because that's obviously a smashing template to be copied in a leader of a country.

This briefing was presumably drafted using ChatGPT.

Anyway, this is what we thought the day would be: another dreary overcast washout, livened up by Downing Street's latest attempt at making Sunak seem like a good idea to stave off the hulking spectre of Labour's inevitable GE win next year. How trite. How tedious. How mediocre.

What a shame it would be if... something were to liven it up.

8.39 am

Fun fact!

When a PM's term ends, as their last act in office, they get to present an Honours List. This means they write a list of all the people they reckon have been Jolly Good Sorts who have done Good Clowning and Supported The Community, and nominate those people for honours. Honours here can be anything from an MBE/OBE etc, to a Damehood/Knighthood, all the way up to entering the Peerage i.e. becoming a Lord. Traditionally, people have been fairly reasonable with these lists. Apart from anything else, the outgoing PM can only write the list - the new Prime Minister has to sign off on it, and it's usually the case, of course, that PMs are deposed by the opposition party.

Why am I mentioning this? Well: Boris, you see, has now presented his list to Sunak to validate. You may be unsurprised to learn that it contains quite a lot of clowns.

Another fun fact!

If a sitting MP is given a Peerage, they cannot continue to be an MP. MPs are elected. Lords are not. So an MP offered a lordship right now would have to stand down if they accepted, triggering a by-election in their seat that... well. That anyone could win, couldn't they? Ordinarily. Except Labour's shadow is growing, isn't it? I don't suppose Sunak would be all that happy about losing, for example, any Tory MPs nominated for a peerage right now.

What fun facts.

At 8.39am, Politics UK reveals an as-yet-unverified report that Nadine Dorries and Alok Sharma have been removed from Boris Johnson's honours list, and will go back to vetting.

(They also reveal that Big Dog's dad has been removed from the list, because nominating your dad for a Peerage is "inappropriate". Sorry, Bigger Dog. Apparently even corrupt ghoul Rishi Sunak has a limit to what open corruption he will allow, which is news to us all, most of all Rishi.)

10.41am

Nadine Dorries decides she will play to her strengths, and appear on TV to do some Public Speaking, which always goes well for her of course.

Nothing, let's remember, has been confirmed yet at all. But she's here to put people's minds at ease! No power-hungry status-chasing pink maniac, she! She is very clear in her aims.

“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”

Quite right, Nadine. That would be disastrous.

11.20am

Oh, it’s Tory think tank NRG’s conference in Doncaster today.  Gideon George Osborne, pig-stupid former Grand Vizier and idiot fail-heir to David "pig-fucker" Cameron, gives a speech.  Let's see some quotes!

On the Tories’ choices of chancellors since he personally fell on his sword over Brexit left the role:

“You can see when the partnership doesn’t work. The government's paralysed and the politics is terrible.”

Fair, but also you are a government, George.

On Tories who attack the civil service:

“We’re in charge of our country’s destiny. We should stop blaming others if we don’t get things right." 

... right. But you just... Uh.

On Tory culture warriors:

“It’s really important that the Conservative Party is excited about the country we aspire to lead… and doesn’t get in to ‘we’re against all these groups of people’. We’re the inclusive people.”

Well, points for clearing that absurdly low bar, I guess. Christ, I cannot BELIEVE Suella Braverman is making George fucking Osborne look good-by-comparison.

1pm

Ooh. Nadine's attempts to put minds at ease have inexplicably not worked, can't think why not. She's such a reassuring and charismatic speaker normally.

But the rumour is now FLYING about that Nadine has indeed been dropped from the honours list, and specifically because Sunak wants to avoid a by-election that will lose him more seats at a time when he is desperate for even a mat on the floor as long as it's blue.

Sorry, Nads. Still; this morning you were very clear that the constituency comes first, so I suppose that's okay. The priority now is that she MUST stay in position, so the Tories can keep their numbers steady. It is VITAL she remains an MP. Let's remember her exact words!

“The last thing I would want to do would be to cause a by-election in my constituency.”

3.45pm

Nadine Dorries tweets her resignation.

The last thing she does as an MP is indeed to cause a by-election in her constituency.

3.50pm

Except this is Nadine Dorries we're talking about. She's found some flashy balls to juggle, look, and a boy to pour custard down her trousers.

Not five minutes after dropping the bombshell, she deletes the last tweet announcing her resignation, and tweets a new one.

The new tweet says, “it is now time for another to take the reins” as the MP for Mid-Bedfordshire.

The original tweet said, “it is now time for someone younger to take the reins.”

*

On Talk TV, Dorries says that "something significant did happen to change my mind", but doesn’t elaborate.

3.56pm

The whispers are whispering. The rumours are rumouring. The knives are sharpening.

Nadine's now-former seat is Mid-Bedfordshire, and has been Tory since 1929; a safe seat, which certainly explains how Nadine fucking Dorries managed to hold it for as long as she did.

An MP on the right of the Tory party says that if the Tories lose the Mid Bedfordshire by-election, it’ll open questions about Rishi Sunak's leadership CLOWNFALL 3: REVENGE OF BIG DOG LET'S GOOOOOO

3.57pm

Nadine Dorries is removed from the WhatsApp group.

I would love to know who leaked that image. I really should not have that image. Ah well. Now you do too.

4.12pm

Good tweet alert!

5.08pm

Phew! What a day. Let's see how Rishi's getting on.

He approves the rest of BoJo's honours list. Shall we take a look at our newly-honoured citizens? Shall we see what familiar names crop up?

Honours for staff at centre of Partygate Jack Doyle, Rosie Bate-Williams and Shelly Williams-Walker (and a lot of other terrible and disgraced people who were loyal to Johnson, and some of Carrie Antoinette’s friends).

Damehoods for Andrea Jenkyns and Priti Patel.

Knighthoods for Jacob Rees-Mogg, Conor Burns, and Michael Fabricant.

An OBE for Kelly Jo Dodge, Parliamentary hairdresser.

Also honours for Ben Houchen, currently at the heart of a media storm about dodgy property deals.  His huge regeneration project in Teesside is subject to a government investigation regarding the governance, finance and value for money.

*

(Interesting point – Tory MPs Allister Jack and Nigel Adams were offered peerages, but decided to wait, since accepting now would trigger by-elections.

Why were they offered at all, do you think?)

*

So … this means Michael Fabricant is now Sir Michael Fabricant.  Like, actually.  Genuinely.

Nice one, Rishi. Thank goodness you understand AIs.

5.44pm

The Guardian’s Pippa Crerar - journalist who brought down Big Dog one Partygate reveal at a time - tweets her guide to he honours list:

Martin Reynolds, former PPS, invited 200 officials to drinks in Downing St garden.  He told officials to "bring your own booze", later adding: "We seem to have got away with it".

Shelley Williams-Walker, getting a Damehood, was No 10 head of opps & now runs his office.  At No 10 party the night before Prince Philip's funeral she was dubbed "DJ SWW" for her banger playlist.

Jack Doyle & Rosie Bate-Williams, who get OBEs, were press spox who repeatedly denied the parties happened

Dan Rosenfield, who gets a peerage, quit in mass exodus of senior No 10 staff as anger over Partygate grew.  Former chief of staff faced reports he was among senior Downing Street officials who attended a Christmas quiz when restrictions were in place.

Shaun Bailey, who ran unsuccessfully for London mayor, gets a peerage, and Ben Mallett, a close friend of Carrie Antoinette's who ran Zac Goldsmith’s disastrous mayoral campaign, gets an OBE. Both are in this picture of a lockdown-flouting party at CCHQ:

What a sea of punchable faces.

7.58pm

But we've been so focused on Nadine! She's fucked up her juggling, look, but she's sliding around on the rollerskates, ever so distracting. But here's the thing, Tumblrs, here's the thing:

Among all of this, what's the Chief Clown doing?

The Privilege Committee reveals in their draft report that Boris Johnson misled Parliament, and recommends a sanction of more than 10 days.

Does that sound too little? Are you wishing it were smething more meaningful? Let me help put it in context.

This sanction would be enough to trigger a by-election in Johnson’s seat.

8.02pm

Boris Johnson

QUITS

as an MP

The committee said Johson had “impugned the integrity” of the House of Commons. Fascinating! I didn't know its honour had ever been pugned.

He accuses the inquiry of trying to “drive me out”!!!!

"It is very sad to be leaving parliament - at least for now - but above all I am bewildered and appalled that I can be forced out, anti-democratically, by a committee chaired and managed, by Harriet Harman, with such egregious bias".

Worth noting that the committee has a Conservative majority, mind. But you mustn't let things like facts get in the way of your feelings, BlowJo. You never have as a politician. Nor as a journalist, come to that.

(Also SIDE NOTE – “at least for now”??  What are you planning, Big Dog??  I suppose Nadine is leaving an empty seat...)

8.41pm

Christopher Hope of the Daily Telegraph reports he’s heard rumours of a THIRD Tory MP potentially resigning – and another Johnson loyalist at that. Lol. Trololol. Lmao, even. Perhaps rofl.

11.43pm

And finally, the day is wrapped up with the Guardian revealing their front cover for the following day:

Big Dog is OUT, hot trans bloke is IN.

Not a bad finish.

#asks #long post #politik #the adventures of big dog the clown

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Can you do more Yandere Jax Headcanons?

If you dont mind

If your busy, Its okay

Yes I can! The amount of attention my amazing digital circus fanfiction has been getting is kind of crazy. At least to me 😅

Y'all are a bunch of simps for Jax and I don't blame you.

Here's part one!

Yandere Jax x Reader pt 2

★ Normally Jax wouldn't really care what you do but yandere Jax always needs know what you're doing. He likes to keep his eyes on you, for safety reasons, obviously.

★ A lot of bad things can happen if he's not around. What if something heavy falls directly on your body, trapping you and leaving you alone and afraid for hours? No, he doesn't have any idea of where it could have come from. Why are you looking at him like that?

★ If you ever piss him off enough he'll lock you in your room for a few hours until he feels like you've had enough. His room if you got him feeling particularly possessive.

★ How would you piss him off? Well there a few ways, obviously ignoring him is one but other ways include making him jealous, keeping secrets from him and taking something of his without asking.

★ That's just scratching the surface but if I try to list everything he doesn't like I'll be here all night. Just don't do those main four and you'll probably be fine.

★ If you ever write him any notes or letters he's keeping them under his bed in a cardboard box. For safe keeping obviously. Each note and doodle you make is being collected by him. Even if it wasn't meant for him.

★ NEVER FLIRT WITH ANYONE OTHER THAN HIM, NOT EVEN A NPC. IT DOESN'T MATTER IF YOUR JUST JOKING. If you make the horrible decision I can't say it will end well for you. If your goal was to not see them outside of his room for a week you succeeded!

★ Just don't, he's not even going to ask you what's going on. Immediately picking you up and bringing you to an area more private. I feel bad for whoever you were talking to because they immediately become a target for Jax.

★ "what'd you think you were doing? Are you trying to tick me off?" Or "You really think I didn't know what you're doing? Because I do. And you're not getting away with it" will be heard through clenched teeth and a strained smile.

★ How do you get him to forgive you? A few days of compliments, attention and reassurance that you're not going to leave him.

#tadc #tadc x Reader #tadc headcanon #tadc fanfiction #tadc fandom #the amazing digital circus headcannons #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus x Reader #the amazing digital circus fandom #jax x reader #tadc jax headcannons #jax fanfiction #digital circus jax #tadc jax #jax #the amazing digital circus jax

[velvetures]

COD AU: Intro

AN: I love this. I have so many thoughts in my head. So many it’s killing me inside. Please enable me. God I hope at least one of you likes this enough to talk to me about it. To hc, to literally just share my words with. And yes…. There is a very heavy Ghost/romance element… but I’m totally not against picturing the other options ahaha.

So I’ve been thinking….

An AU where everyone needs to lay low for a while. Maybe they’re all compromised and someone with enough power and money shows interest to take out the 141 forever. And Laswell, being the problem solver that she is, suggests a safe house of someone close to her. Someone who can be trusted. Not just to provide somewhere physically safe, but also keep a close eye on the team while they’re -somewhat- forcibly being cut off from the world.

So the team are flighted into the middle of god-knows-where in the mountains. A tiny little town -if you can call it that- and they meet their contact.

Not only a girl… but civilian.

She refers to Laswell as Aunt Kate and the Captain and Uncle John. Sweet as can be, and so damn helpful that it’s almost infuriating. Especially to Ghost. She hasn’t seen a single thing about them other than what Laswell has offered, and really appears like she couldn’t care less about opening her house up to them. A house just big enough to fit all four men.

Ghost isn’t sure about the whole thing. It feels wrong being holed up in the deep holler of an Appalachian mountain with a girl not twenty-five. Like some kind of fucked-up movie he wasn’t aware of being cast for. It’s all too strange walking inside her house and seeing photos on the walls, a massive rack of cast iron skillets and pots hanging above her kitchen island, and the way she looks at Price so fondly.

Uncle John…

Something about it rubs him wrong. There’s got to be history there… at least enough for her to feel the right to call Price that. But he’s never heard of her before. And this kind of arrangement isn’t one to taken lightly. There are people hunting the 141… A threat so well documented that they couldn’t even just turn a blind eye and wait for the smoke to clear.

The sweet thing doesn’t notice Ghost’s apprehension.

But she does recognize Price’s excitement in seeing her, as well as his slight disappointment that she’d offered to do this. She’s too good to get involved in matters of war, and he’s honestly surprised that Kate let you. But then again, there could only be so much disappointment he could find in seeing his goddaughter. And funnily enough, there’s a sense of relief he has in seeing how well she’s done for herself since he saw her last.

Intelligent, scarily so. But not in an overt way. He can see it in the way she collects rainwater for watering the little garden out back, and the pistol safe tucked under her bed with a thumbprint scanner. He notices the small town she’d bought her home in, and the relatively tight community. Maybe a little old-fashioned… but it’s good in case something goes wrong. And right now, it’s paying off.

Unbelievably welcoming too… but Kate and John always knew there’d come a day when she’d get a chance to ‘mother’ someone. And now she’d have four men to do exactly that for. Even from day one, she’s already made trips to the store, rearranged her whole home, and bought god-knows-what in anticipation for their arrival.

What’s each of your favorite food, I’ll make lists so I never run out of dinner ideas.

Any preferences on how I should come and go around my the house? I don’t want to startle anyone.

Did you need anything you didn’t bring? If I can’t get it in town or online I’ll text Aunt Kate and have her get it…

She’s nearly frantic to get them settled, and everyone reacts in a muted tone of shock save for Price. He’s well-aware thanks to Kate about how excited she is… something about wanting to prove herself. And Jesus if it doesn’t make Price feel a bittersweet burn in his chest as he introduces her to the others. Seeing her wide eyes examining all of them without the slightest hesitation. Memorizing names and faces, and shaking massive, gloved, hands without missing a beat.

She’s got Soap wrapped around her finger on instant. Maybe it’s a big-brother feeling. One like Price holds for her. Since she’s younger than him -unlike his own sisters- there’s something of a chance to be one for a while. Soap almost instantly takes to her Appalachian lilt and bright smile. They’re both too sweet for their own good at times… and Price can tell right away there won’t be a knife sharp enough to cut the two of them apart after this.

Gaz is quietly polite is a way only he can be. Meticulously trying to stay out of her way as she flutters about. Wanting to help her out, but also downright flustered when she demands she be the one to carry their bags to their rooms. It’s a clear sign he’s not used to it… A woman being this damn sweet and intent on ‘helping’ a man. But he takes it in stride. Learning how to help without stepping on her decidedly ‘southern comfort’ style of catering to them. And god if Price doesn’t have to chew the tip of his cigar when she gets on his ass about something. The poor sod looks like a kicked puppy… and he’s certain she’ll end up training him with due time.

Christ above. If Ghost isn’t the most difficult bastard to deal with initially.

He’s much more sour than typical. Lurking in corners, and unable to settle down anywhere for more than an hour. He looks caged in by the comfortable couch and throw blankets. Swallowed by her pleasantly creaky porch swing and sun-couch on the wraparound. Not even her well-used garage housing an old Fold flatbed makes a good refuge for Ghost. She’s all encompassing in a way he can’t come to terms with easily.

Price sees her trying the hardest with him.

The way her voice lowers when addressing him. How she makes a conscious effort to tiptoe around the house after 10pm because that’s when he shuts himself inside his bedroom… She doesn’t exactly know he never sleeps. Dinners are often served close to the time he finally realizes he’s got to come back inside the house… and without fail, she can be found sitting near him.

Not friendly by any means.

But more like a girl who’s found an old bait-dog at the pound and can’t leave well-enough alone. Sitting with her back it to and tossing treats over her shoulder. Hoping silently that the old, scarred, dog will come around. Damn near predatory in a sweet kind of way. Price can tell she means well. She can see the same thing everyone else on the team can… and she’s just going about it her way.

She’s good like that. Maybe a little too good.

But John can’t deny he enjoys seeing it. All of it really. The way she dotes on them individually. Consistently. Hell, she even does their laundry and bought separate baskets to keep things neat and tidy. The fridges -yes… multiple- all are set with their preferences in drinks, and she’s scarily observant when things need replaced. Toothpaste… shoelaces… socks… there’s no missing anything. Brands and sizes don’t seem to be a problem either, to some shock and mortification.

Uncle John, what’s Soap mean when he says he misses Irn-Bru?

His quick and unconcerned explanation goes without another notice… until he sees Johnny taking a long drink from a bottle of it while sitting on a rocking chair on the back porch watching some hummingbirds fight over richly dyed sugar water.

John’s often preoccupied with worrying about the plans of those head-hunting them and what Kate’s doing behind the scenes in the meantime. But it’s clear there’s nothing concerning his goddaughter but whether or not they’re all fed, warm, and comfortable in her house…

Whether Ghost likes it or not.

Comments are so heavily appreciated on this… I want to make this more of what I talk about & I can’t keep it all on a notebook under my bed.

#velvetures #velvetures writes #cod mwii #cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost x reader #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #gaz #john price smut #johnny mactavish #johnny soap mactavish x reader #john price x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #captain john price #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #john price #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #ghost cod #cod x reader #cod mw3 #cod au

[russellsppttemplates]

You're the best papa (Pierre Gasly)

A look into Pierre and Y/N at the beggining of their journey into parenthood for the fourth time

Note: english is not my first language. You know what's better than a small blurb? Blurb like moments compiled in one place, at least I think it is!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions pregnancy, post partum

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog

"Here's your coffee", Pierre croaked out, setting the mug on your bedside table after he kissed your forehead, "I have our little miss here, changed and ready for some food when you're ready", he added, sitting next to you on the bed as your baby girl rested on his chest.

Celeste was eight days old, but because of the initial check ups and the fact that you delivered on a Thursday, the hospital kept you for the first few days, so it was only the second day you and Pierre had been home with your new baby. Pascale and Jean had taken the other three kids with them on a small getaway for a few days so you and Pierre could settle in a new routine, FaceTiming you every night still.

"Mama has had a sip of the good stuff", you said, finding a good position on the bed before you stretched your arms out, "so now you can have some good stuff too, baby girl, come to mama", you cooed, laying her on the pillow so you wouldn't need to support her solely with your core strength and helping her latch, "there you go, my love", you brushed her soft hair.

Pierre got to go to the bathroom and then dowstairs, coming up when Celeste was done with feeding, "I can burp her", Pierre smiled, grabbing a muslin cloth just in case she spit some up, "I have the pad ready for you in the bathroom, and we can head downstairs afterwards because I'm getting breakfast ready, too", he smiled, kissing your forehead before he grabbed Celeste, cuddling her to his chest as you slowly walked to the bathroom. Even though the c-section had been successful and there were no complications, it was still abdominal surgery to some extent, so moving around was something you had to be mindful about, and having a pad to catch anything that might have been in there made you feel safer and more comfortable.

Heading downstairs, again in a slow waddle, you say Pierre cooking what looked like scrambled eggs, your baby girl safe tucked in his chest and held by a sling, "you know, I'm quite jealous of her because she gets to be carried around in your chest all day", you said as you approached Pierre, kissing his back before peeking to see your daughter's delightful sleeping expression.

"I'll hold you when she goes to nap on her bassinet, deal?", he teased you back, carrying the plates back to the table so you could eat.

.

Having your husband at home while you were recovering was something you saw as an incredible privilege not everyone had, allowing to actually sleep when the baby slept. You woke up with Pierre cuddling you in bed, starting to trace shapes on his hands, "are you up?", he asked, "I am", you whispered.

"I just changed her and fed her, and she's back asleep after I talked to her for a bit", he said, "how is your incision site feeling?", he asked, "it's good, moving around is still weird, I have this weird feeling that makes me think that all my organs are just going to drop out as I walk", you giggled, appreciating his attentiveness.

"If you need anything, let me know, yes?", he requested, holding your hand out so he could kiss your knuckles, one by one, "are you ready to have everyone back home?", he asked.

"I think so, yes. I miss them a lot, and since your parents are kindly staying with us for a few days, I think it's a good way to finally get the whole 'four kids' thing under our belt", you admitted, "if there is anything, we will make it work, like we always do".

.

Overall, the kids had been pretty good, always carefully when they got near you, no matter how much they wanted to hug and climb on your lap, but always doting on their little sister, especially Élodie, who now felt like she had a live doll to play with, always helping you when it was time for a bath and peppering the smallest kisses in her sister's hands, while the boys, although sometimes cheeky, always wanted to help around and make sure mama and Celeste were doing good.

"Is everyone ready?", you heard your husband's voice from downstairs, making you walk to meet him, "Wow, guys! Doesn't mama look beautiful in her dress?", he said, making all the kids run to you, hugging your legs and torso carefully, "you look beautiful, mama! Do a spin!", Louis said, prompting you to turn into a blushing mess as you spun.

"You look gorgeous, amour", Pierre said as he kissed you, "it's still a maternity dress because this whole area is still trying to work itself out, and it's easy to reach for a boob if she's hungry, it's really nothing spec-", you were interrupted by him, "you look like the hottest mama, and I'm not even sorry for staring at you", he winked.

.

"Oh, I think she just scratched my arm", Alexandre said, "it didn't hurt or anything, but I think it was her nails", he pointed out, catching Pierre's attention, "Oh, yes, you're right. Can you go to her room and grab me the file, please?", he asked.

In a hurry, all three children said "I'll go!", promptly wanting to help as much as they could. "Careful guys, no need to rush!", you yelled, not wanting any of your kids to hurt themselves.

"They're just trying to be helpful, bless them", you commented, sitting Celeste on your lap so she would be ready when Pierre needed to file her nails.

"I have it here, mama!", Élodie said, giving you the small pouch containing the electrical nail trimmer, sitting next to you on the sofa so she could see what you were doing.

"I'll hold her, you can do it", you nudged Pierre, seeing him grab the small machine and testing it on his own.

"Are you going to let papa trim your nails? You even have some scratches on your cheeks too, little one", he told his youngest daughter, gently grabbing her hand and shortening the length of her nails before using a softer file to leave the nail edges as soft as possible, "Good girl", he complimented, not ignoring the way the words made you shiver before he grabbed her other hand, doing the same until she had nails that wouldn't hurt herself or anyone else.

Getting up to bring the pouch back to the room and grab a new muslin cloth from the drawer, Pierre bent down just enough to whisper in your ear, "you're also a good girl, the best girl, in fact", leaving you a blushing mess as you cuddled your baby.

.

"Oh, look at at that scrunch, princess!", you heard Pierre from the nursery, "let me grab my phone so I can send this to Uncle Charles!", he squealed.

Resting against the door, you appreciated the scene: Celeste was dressed in a cute onesie and she was scrunching in the most delicious way possible, with Pierre recording and smiling at her, "Oh, come here", he stopped recording when he noticed her fussing, grabbing her and holding her, "it's alright, babygirl, you're good, you're good", he tutted, smiling when he inhaled her newborn scent.

"It never gets old, does it?", you asked, grabbing his attention, "no, still as amazing as the first time", he replied, walking over to you since he was just about to leave the room anyway, "and you, still amazing as ever, too. Remember that silly day you told me you were afraid of not being a good father?", you asked and he nodded, blushing as he kissed your lips, "like I said, silly silly idea that one was. You're the best papa they could have".

#pierre gasly imagine #pierre gasly × reader #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

[ramblingoak]

how about being caught kissing with the cardinal?

Ooo yes, wouldn't that be nice! I wouldn't mind getting caught doing worse with him to be honest... Prompt is from this list of Kiss Prompts!

Yay Satan Day

Cardinal Copia x Female Reader ~ Copia does his best to distract you from your job

Warnings: Copia being a smug shit, vaginal fingering, nsfw, 18+ only, MDNI, 1600 words

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

He was doing that stupid thing with his eyebrows again.

You and Cardinal Copia had been stuck in a meeting with Terzo for close to an hour now.  Sister Imperator had instructed you all to create an event to try to bring the local community closer to the church.  ‘Something to show them we don’t spend our days sacrificing babies and having orgies’ were her exact words.  At least the baby part wasn’t true, but you knew of at least four orgies that had taken place in the last week alone.

“We should call it ‘Yay Satan Day’.”

“Can we focus on actually creating the event before we name it?”  You pretended you didn’t see Terzo rolling his eyes.  “And for the last time we’re not calling it that.”

Copia sighed and his chair creaked as he leaned back in it.  You gave him a quick glance but then forced your eyes away.  Most days you had a hard time keeping your eyes off of him, but it was always harder when he wore the white suit.  The bastard had to have worn it on purpose today judging by how he waggled his eyebrows every time he caught you looking at him.  You had no idea how this man had become a Cardinal, let alone win all those stupid employee of the month awards.  He wasn’t listening to a damn thing Papa was saying.

Terzo himself didn’t seem to be focusing that much either.  You really didn’t blame him, you were the one technically in charge of all the event and party planning at the abbey.  Usually Terzo’s main job at these things was to show up and look pretty.  The only thing he seemed interested in helping with today was naming the event, but he kept pouting after you shot down all of his ideas.  You weren’t naming the damn thing ‘Yay Satan Day’ no matter how many times he’d suggested it.

“Sorella?  Do you agree?” 

Fuck.  You focused back on Terzo who was looking at you expectantly.

“Yes sorella, I would like your input as well.  On his idea.”  

That son of a bitch.  You looked down at your notes to buy yourself some more time.  All you had on there was a small doodle of one of Copia’s rats.  You looked over at him, narrowing your eyes at the stupid smirk on his face.  When he raised an eyebrow you gritted your teeth and glanced away.  You were going to shave both of his eyebrows off when he fell asleep tonight.

“I think that as long as we uh, well as long as we stay under budget that should be feasible.”  

You wrote a quick note down like the responsible event planner that you were and smiled up at Papa.  Now he was raising one of his eyebrows at you, but you kept the smile on your face, refusing to back down.  Terzo chuckled and then popped up from his chair, straightening his clothes as he made his way around his desk.

“Well this has been great fun, but I’m afraid I’m needed elsewhere.”  You hid your notes when he stopped by you and tried to give him an innocent look.  “I’m sure you two can handle everything else, si?  Cardinal make sure my banner gets ordered.”

“Of course, Papa.”

When you spun in your chair to glare at Copia he was ignoring you and picking imaginary lint off his suit.  What the fuck had you agreed to?

“Ok, you two have fun, but not in my office.  Ciao!”

“Okie dokie, Papa.”

Copia caught your eyes as he called out to Terzo before the door shut behind him.  

“Copia, what does this banner say?”

“Nothing special.”  He bit his lip for a moment before continuing,  “Have you kissed me today?”

“Yes, several times this morning.”  You threw your pen at him, laughing when he squawked as it hit his suit.  “Have you forgotten already?”

“Ah well, you know.  Silly me.”

He held out your pen but as soon as you reached out to grab it he took your hand and tugged you out of your chair.

“Copia, no, I don’t have time.”  You sighed in exasperation when he successfully pulled you into his lap, not that you had put up much of a fight.  He wrapped an arm around your waist and held you tightly against him, smiling smugly at you the whole time.  “Are you happy now?”

“Mmm, si.  Very happy.  But…”  He stuck his bottom lip out a bit and you sighed.  “I wish we were kissing.”

“Oh, do you?”

“Very much so.  I think I deserve at least one for helping during the meeting.  Maybe two.”

“I’m sorry, how did you help?  All you did was make stupid faces at me!”

“I said I’d order this banner, didn’t I?  That’s very helpful.”

You wiggled around in his lap so you faced him, ignoring the little pleased grunt he made.

“You’re not ordering anything, Copia, what does this banner s–mmph!”

A hand in your hair and his mouth on yours stopped your question.  Normally you’d be annoyed at this tactic, but it had been a while since you’d kissed him last.  You settled against his chest, deciding to just let him win this time.  He made a pleased sound in the back of his throat and deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping in to tease yours.  After a few minutes he pulled away, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth for a moment before leaning back to give you a lazy smile.

“We should put you in a kissing booth for this thing.”  You groaned and tried to get up, but his arms stayed firm around you.  “No, no I’m serious!  You’re very good.”

“Copia, come on.  I’ve gotta go.”

He sighed and loosened his arms.  You immediately got up before he changed his mind, spinning and stepping back to lean against Terzo’s desk.  You watched as he rose from his chair, grunting a bit as he straightened up.  He reached down to tug at the crotch of his pants to give himself more room.  You felt endlessly pleased that he was already half hard just from a kiss, but when he noticed your smug look he raised that damned eyebrow again.

“Something to say, sorella?”  When you shook your head he stepped closer, resting a hand on either side of you against the desk.  “Do you like getting me all riled up?”

“Yes, I do.  It’s great fun.”

Copia muttered ‘brat’ under his breath before moving in to take your lips again.  This kiss was much more intense, your mouth opening under his immediately.  You buried your hands in his hair while his came down to your hips, his hands squeezing your flesh and urging you up.  Without breaking away from his mouth you let him help you onto Terzo’s desk, ignoring the sound of things clattering around as Copia shoved them out of the way.  Once you were settled he placed a hand on your knee, slipping it under your habit and up your leg.  The leather of his glove was warm against the skin of your thigh and you moaned into his mouth when he reached the hem of your panties. He broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours.

“Are you wet for me?”  You gasped into his mouth when he ran a finger over the silk covering your cunt.  “If I take my glove off will I feel how much you want me?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Copia growled, bringing his hand up to his mouth and tugging the glove off with his teeth.  Another growl rumbled in his chest when he tasted you on the leather.  When he was done he tossed it behind you onto the desk and leaned in to kiss you again.  His bare hand quickly found its way back under your skirt and you gasped when his fingers slid under your panties.  He rested one right at your wet entrance and you both broke away again, panting into each other's mouths when it easily slipped inside.  A smug grin broke out on his face, but before you could snap at him the door opened and Terzo waltzed back in.

“What are you two still do–ai!  No!  What did I say?!”

You shoved Copia away and jumped down from the desk, frantically straightening your skirt.  Terzo had switched to Italian as he and Copia began to snap back and forth at each other.  You grabbed your pen and notebook from the floor, freezing when Terzo turned with a finger pointed at you.

“Sorry Papa!”  He waved a hand at you and then stomped over to his desk.  Muttering under his breath as he straightened up the things you and Copia had knocked over.  You glared at Copia when he snickered as he walked towards you.  “Stop that!  You got me in trouble.”

Copia grabbed your hand, grinning as he tugged you towards the door.

“Far worse things have been done on that desk.  He’ll get over it.”  

“Hey!”  Both of you turned at the sound of Terzo’s voice, you watched warily as he glared at you with his hands on his hips.  “We’re calling it ‘Yay Satan Day’.”

“Ugh, fine!”  You ignored Terzo’s triumphant grin and turned back towards the door.  “I hate you both.”

“Si, I know.”  Copia opened the door for you and squeezed your hand when you went into the hall.  “Let’s uh head back to your room to clean up a bit, okie dokie?”  

More shouts from Terzo stole your attention away and you peered around Copia to see Papa poking something on top of his desk.

“Cardinal!  Come get your glove!  Satan, where has this thing been?!”

You looked at Copia and smiled before squeezing his hand back.

“Okie dokie.”

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

my masterlist

my ao3

#my fics #my writing #cardinal copia x female reader #copia x female reader #the band ghost fanfiction #cardinal copia fanfiction #copia fanfiction

[judysxnd]

Hi beautiful

Can you please write a pedro×reader where they are fighting really seriously and suddenly kisses the reader and things get spicy...

And acn you please write it long?

I am in this phase where I see Pedro has a dad. So I’m going to write the plot I have in mind, that thank god corresponds to this.

I hope it was long enough! I don’t think I have ever written something that long!

Warnings: swearing, hand job, unprotected sex

Minors DNI

——————————————————————————

Having a personal life in the middle of a social career is not easy. Even difficult. Whatever you do, whatever you say, you are always watched, everything gets twisted, and it’s just.. drama. That’s why you and Pedro, when you finally started dating, decided to stay private. And that’s still been going on after all these years.

Let’s settle everything. You’ve been dating Pedro for four years. You met through a mutual friend, who was your roommate. You immediately had a good chemistry, but nothing ever happened. No one could deny that there wasn’t any tension, but you both stayed friend for at least a year before something happened.

Neither of you planned that infamous night where everything went down (literally). You had a nice little party at your place, I mean, it was just a few friends. One too many drinks and.. yes. You ended up having sex. One super great night that both of you remembered and liked very much. That’s why you kept doing it. You both decided to become friends with benefits, and it was going on good! Buuuut it only lasted a month. And, much to your surprise, it wasn’t because of you. Pedro caved. If it hadn’t been him, you would have given in shortly after.

So you started dating. And it’s been amazing. You’ve been having the greatest time of your life. You both handle very well the distance, keeping communicating a lot, sometimes visiting each other on either sets. And let’s not forget that you are having the best sex ever. You’re good, he’s good, together you make the best. And it went on. A year. And a second year. Which brings us to some defining moments. Because yes there were two very close.

The first one is Pedro proposing. Two years in the relationship and your love is only growing even more. You are obsessed with each other, you’re literally never felt that before. And Pedro decided to lock this, making it official. You were in Morocco. Pedro loved it so much when he filmed gladiator that he wanted to show you. He had planned everything. He rented a magnificent like little palace for your trip, with this amazing view on the ocean. As he knows you absolutely love sunsets, and arranged a little romantic dinner on the beach, and proposed when the sunset was at its peak.

Unfortunately the fantasy was cut short, you had to go back in reality, and go back to work. Two weeks after coming back, you started to get sick. You had nausea, morning sickness, and you were extremely tired. When you saw it wasn’t going away, you went to see your doctor. Surprise! You’re pregnant. Big news. How to tell Pedro? He proposed two weeks ago, with you careers, the age gap, and the fact that neither of you actually want kids, how could you drop the news?

You decided to be direct. Communication was one of the best thing in your relationship. You could talk about everything, either serious or not. You both said things to each other that neither of you had told before. He was home before you, so it all happened very quick. You didn’t have time to think. When he asked about your doctor’s appointment, you dropped the bomb.

Pedro was very comprehensive but it has been a lot on him. At his age, having a kid, it’s not easy. Even if he’s great and would actually love the idea. But it involved so many things. Both of your careers, the living situation, handling the media parts. And after listing the pros and cons, you made this huge decision.

To your next appointment, you found out you were two months pregnant. The baby’s gender couldn’t be determined yet. It has been a lot of anxiety on the both of you as this was unexpected, but since you decided to keep it, you’ve actually both been pretty excited. Pedro was already thinking about names. But there was one thing you couldn’t stop thinking: the media.

It has been taboo to talk about it actually. You managed to keep it together after two years of dating, only facing some rumors, but nothing more since neither of you ever denied or confirmed anything. You were even playing with it, going out in town with some friends and being very close to some, dodging paparazzi, you were into it. But now it was getting more complicated, you were adding a baby. Since no one knew you were together, how could you pop out one day either pregnant or with a baby in your arms?

You had lots of arguments, but decided to worry about it when the baby was born. So you went awol during your pregnancy. You were posting pictures here and there, some stories; making sure no one could see the rest of your body. And it was fun, all this secrecy.

Month number seven: you couldn’t take it anymore. You wanted to know the gender of the baby. You managed to go for all this time since at every sonogram the baby was turned in a way that you couldn’t see, but it finally happened at your monthly check up. It’s a girl! Oh the look on Pedro’s face. He lit up. Excitement took over.

You decided that you wanted your kid to grow up in the countryside and not closed in between four walls in an apartment, so you started to create and build your own house. Talking about the wolf, baby girl decided to show up two weeks late, and was born at 1:57am on the 31st of July at home. And there she was, Sofia Veronica Y/l/n Pascal. Healthy baby. You’ve both been filled with nothing but happiness. No regrets whatsoever, even when she wakes up at night crying.

Sofia is two years old, currently running in the house with her teddy bear in her arms, probably having some sort of runaway. You’re on the couch, on your phone, scrolling on Instagram. Pedro is in the kitchen drinking his coffee, leaning against the counter, pretending to almost get hit by Sofia when she runs past him. Everything was peaceful, a beautiful sunny day as the house filled with laughter, up until you saw this picture of a famous friend of yours, at Disneyland with their kids. You sighed.

“Pedro” you said slowly turning towards him. He hummed, his eyes following your daughter. “Why don’t we go somewhere with Sofia?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like a park or something” he finally looked at you, sipping from his coffee.

“You know we can’t”

“I know, but maybe this one time we could?” He walked to the counter closer to you.

“Cariño if you want to go with her you can”

“I want to go together, as a family” you sat up, facing him entirely

“We agreed to this” he started to sound dry

“And I’m changing my mind”

“You can’t just do that”

“Why not?” He didn’t say anything “please express yourself, tell me why not” you got up

“We can’t risk it, for her sake” he said pointing to Sofia, now looking at the both of you before starting to run again.

“I dont think there’s anything to risk”

“Really? Really? We’re going into this again?” He started to raise his voice

“Yes. I think we should. Because I think it’s going insane” he scoffed “for fuck sake’s, we’re taking turns going outside with her, and we they see you with her you just pretend she’s your niece or something” he kept shaking his head

“We need to keep her privacy”

“It doesn’t mean we can’t do anything together!” You walked a bit closer to him “Jesus! She’s two years old and we never took her to a fun fair or something!”

“She’s two, she won’t remember anything”

“Oh my fucking god. I cannot believe it.” You lower your voice a bit “it’s not about remembering, it’s about being a fucking family. She needs to see the world, with us, to learn!”

“And what about the paparazzi? Oh no wait you’re right. She’ll learn how to be fucking harassed, having no privacy, being followed at her every movement, being talked about and shamed on the internet”

“Are you scared for her or for yourself?” He stopped and stared at you “that’s what I thought” you said going back to the couch

“Oh don’t twist it, it’s not about me it’s about her”

“Oh no it’s about us, and how you don’t want you career to be over just because I’m twenty years younger than you and that you got a fucking child with me” you sat down on the couch, not facing him anymore. You couldn’t take it anymore. Tears were starting to form under your eyes. You heard Pedro walk to you.

“Are you really thinking that?” He was now standing in front of the couch

“It doesn’t matter that’s how they’re going to see it” you crossed your arms, looking on your left outside.

“That’s not true”

“Then what is it? Why can’t we take a walk outside, the three of us, as a family? We chose to handle our careers and a child. We knew the risks, we can’t just avoid them” you stood up.

“She’s too young for that, maybe when she’s older!” And it went back to where it started, like he didn’t listen.

“So what, in the mean time she stays inside the house until she’s at least 10? So what, she doesn’t go to school? I bet you didn’t even think about-” Pedro stepped closer to you and in a sudden move kissed you, putting both his hands on your face. After a few seconds he pulled away

“Can we just settle down for a minute?” He softly asked. Still processing what just happened, you nodded. He kissed you again, this time more gently. You both gave in, keeping kissing each other more and more passionately by the second, until Sofia screamed. You both turned your heads to look at her. She was standing next to the couch, with a big smile. You both smiled at her, getting calmed just by looking at her.

“Young lady, isn’t it time for your nap?” She shook her head. You looked at your watch. “I think it is!” You started to move but Pedro stopped you.

“I’ll do it, stay here” he kissed your forehead, and chased Sofia who didn’t want to go the bed. Twenty minutes later he was back. “She fell asleep almost right away” he chuckled.

“I’m not surprised, she’s been running around for a while” you were sitting on the couch, and Pedro sat next to you.

“So.. where we were” he said, hand on your thigh, sending a wave of shivers down to your core. But you decided to ignore for now. You were mad, you had a point to make, you couldn’t think about this now.

“We need to do something, like literally, we can’t stay hidden like that”

“I know but I don’t want her to be traumatized or something”

“But maybe nothing will happen?” You looked at each other. “The only time we got very close to them it’s only when we go to restaurants at night. We just.. won’t do that”

“I don’t know..”

“Pedro we need to do it”

“I need to think about it”

“We just did” you were starting to get impatient again

“Y/n”

“Let’s just try!” He didn’t say anything. “Or let’s make an official statement, like we publish something on Instagram or something”

“We need to talk to our publicist first” you sight

“Come on..” you got up “I just want to do something spontaneous for once, don’t you understand?”

“I do! But we knew what we were getting into in the first place!” You sighed, looking at him.

“I don’t even know why we keep arguing honestly” you shook you arms. Pedro just stared at you, then suddenly he got up and kissed you roughly. “Pedro..” you said in between kisses.

“Tomorrow we’ll go out okay?” He said, leaning his head against yours. You were staring at his lips, a little out of breath.

“You sure?”

“Yes” you looked at each other before kissing him more passionately this time. His hands travelled for your face this your waist as he brought you closer to him. “I don’t want to lose you because of some shit”

“You’re not losing me” you said, caressing his face. You kissed him softly. He started to step back towards the couch, pulling you in with him. He sat down on the couch, grabbed your thighs pulling you on top of him. “We’re going to get through this you know, we just need to find something that we both agree on” you said

“I know I know” he nodded, his hands going up and down on your thighs. You went for another kiss that ended sloppier and lasted longer. His hands got up on your waist and started to lift your shirt which ended somewhere in the living room, leaving your chest exposed.

Pedro got away from you lips, kissing your jaw, your neck, and ended on your breasts. The feeling of his touch, his lips on you made you shiver. Moans were escaping your mouth and so was Pedro. He was humming against your skin, making vibrations that were turning you on too much. You were growing impatient.

“Pedro please” you begged for more. He pulled away, looking at you, your lips. He took off his shirt and pulled you in for another kiss. The tension was very sensual now. You weren’t feeling the anger anymore. The frustration was gone within seconds. You started to grind on him was you were eager to feel him. Pedro groaned in response.

He pulled you up and laid you down on the couch, taking your shorts and underwear off at the same time. He came back up leaving trails of kisses on your thighs, going left and right, teasing you more. He put his hand down your core and started massaging your clit making you gasp.

“Oh yes” you managed to say, moving your hips to follow the movements of Pedro’s hand between your legs. Your back was arching to the many feelings you were having. He shifter his hand, entering one then two fingers you, leaving his thumb to move on your clitoris. “Pedro” It wasn’t enough, you wanted more, you wanted feel him inside you. But it was hard to talk.

“Talk to me” he said kissing your stomach

“I-I want you”

“I’m right here” you chuckled “tell me what you want” he said accelerating his movements.

“You- I- oh my god” he was now kissing your neck again. Your hands were in his hair. “I want you inside me”

“That’s my girl” he said now looking at you, smirking. You pulled him in for a languorous kiss, as your hands were now trying to pull his pants and boxers down, squeezing is ass at the same time. You earned a moan from him. He pulled away as your orgasm was rising.

You watched him move, sit down on the couch then take his clothes off, before coming back closer to you. He kissed you again as he pressed himself against you, feeling his cock against your heated clit. You were both moaning in the kiss. You pushed him away a bit, lowering your hand to his cock and started to tease him a bit, getting him worked up too.

He quickly couldn’t take it, so he grabbed your hand and moved it away as he centered himself to your entrance and slowly and surely entered you. He started with a slow pace, taking his time. His right hand went back to your clit as he started go a little bit faster. You were trying to contain your screams as you were reaching your climax, but you couldn’t anymore. It was so intense that none of you could form any sentences. He started to slow down a bit, before pulling out and coming on your stomach, his hand still working on you to get you to your orgasm.

Both panting, you took your right hand to your stomach and with one finger you wiped his cum before licking everything. Pedro watched you very closely. Still hovering over you, he kissed you passionately, then he kissed your forehead before leaning on top of you. You were caressing his hair and back softly while his hands we were resting on your waist.

“I love you so much” he said, breaking the silent

“I love you more”

You laid there for a while just resting, until Sofia woke up. Pedro went to get her, change her and everything. When he came back in the living room again, he was holding a bag in his hand.

“What is this for?” You asked as you put your phone away

“Spontaneity” you frowned, confused

“Care to explain?”

“There’s a small park not far from here, I thought that.. maybe we could go?”

“Are you serious?” You stood up

“Yes. It’s small but-”

“No it’s great! Let’s start small!” You were excited. You hugged him tight. “Thank you so much” he kissed your head, then you both left to the park with your daughter.

#pedro pascal #fanfic #imagine #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #oneshot #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal preferences #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fluff

[lowkeyremi]

HE'S TROUBLE ✧ Atsumu x fem!reader

Summary: Starting fresh is never that easy and here you are starting a new school year as a freshman in college. Frat boy Atsumu is determined to make your life all the harder, because why the hell not? Will you make it to the end of your first year without losing your shit?

Content: Implied black female reader but anyone can read (reader wears a scarf/bonnet to bed), swearing, the miya twins have a little sister. (divider)

WC: 2k words

ONE - MOVING IN (Chapter Masterlist)

Reality finally hit you when it turned July 29th. You’ve graduated high school and now you’re going to college. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the college on the top of your list but it was the third option, which in your opinion is still pretty good considering some people don’t even get into any of the colleges of their choosing.

Now your only issue is packing. You’ve been procrastinating all summer, hanging out with friends, playing video games, and doing other random little things you like to do. You have not packed a single box– or bought any boxes for that matter.

Your mother has been urging you to at least start on the little things so you can get something done. Of course you’d blow her off with the idea of ‘I can do it later’.

August is approaching fast and your dorm move in day is August 16th. That gives you two weeks and four days to get everything you want to take with you packed and into your dorm. After that, classes start on the 21st.

Are you nervous? Just a little of course. It'll be weird not seeing family everyday, having your phone taken away because of something stupid you'd done, or being asked to drive your cousins/siblings somewhere. As a college student you'll be expected to manage yourself and get up for classes and what not.

It sucks that seniors get the first pick for classes. Freshmen are last on the list meaning you get the scraps. It's okay though, at least you're taking the essential classes, right?

"[name]! Have you started packing anything yet? I bought you some containers and vacuum seal bags!" Your mother yells from the living room.

"Uhhh..." She's bound to be upset, it's obvious. She asked you to start packing like last week– or was it the week before that?

"I'm packing right now!" Why did you say that? Now she's going to come and check for herself. With haste you begin to spread things across your floor to make it look like you're packing stuff. Clothes, shoes, jewelry, decor, stationery, anything in your line of view is tossed on the floor- in a neat pile of course.

When you look up you meet your mother's eyes and her look is skeptical, doubtful even, she can tell you probably hadn't been packing.

"Mhm... have you looked at that list I sent you? The one with the essentials." Your eyes meet the stuff in her hands then her face once more.

"Will you be mad if I say no?" The sound of soft laughter fills your room. Your mom joins you on the floor, giving a good look to everything on your floor. "Oh what am I going to do with you? For years it was 'I can't wait to move out and go to college.' and now that the time has come you haven't even started packing yet."

"Yes I have! Do you not see the stuff I have out?"

"Girl bye, I am not stupid. I know you just threw this stuff on your floor before I came in here."

"Okayyyy you got me." You raise your hands in defense your mother starts to organize the stuff on your floor.

"It can be a little scary, but you'll get used to it. If you ever have any trouble.. call me. I fight kids." That statement lightens your anxiousness to pack a little bit. The fact that she's actually serious makes it all the more comforting.

"Okay.. I want at least, half your stuff packed by tonight. Your move in day is a little over two weeks from now. That time is gonna fly by and knowing you; you'll want to get some more goodbyes in before you leave." She's right of course, if there was a president of 'waiting until the last minute' it might've just been you.

"I'll get it done. I promise!"

"Is this everything?" Your mother asks looking at both her car and yours. They're packed to the brim with all your things: bedding, boxes of clothes, your small TV, decor, and other things that may not have a use as of right now. At this point it would have been better to rent a small moving truck.

"Uhh.. I'll go check one more time, but I think it is." In order to move things along faster your siblings (or cousins) decided to tag along to help with the moving process. There's a little space in both cars to fit them comfortably without being pulled over... you assume.

When you make it upstairs to check your room, you ultimately decide on not even walking in. Even though your bed, dresser, and some of your posters are hanging up the room feels empty, void of life. It's going to be a lot getting used to your new living conditions, but no one forced you to go to college. It was your own choice.

"Take care of my room for me, okay?" You'd ask no one in particular. Hesitation fills your body when closing the door to your old room, it'll only be a few months until you see it again, fall break. Your youngest sibling or cousin stampedes up the stairs, "Hurry up [name]!! we don't wanna be late!!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming. Let's get on the road."

Your first thought is that this school is huge, and well duh of course it is.. it's a college campus. It's nothing like the little high school you went too. Your second thought is that there are a lot of people too.

People of all kinds of backgrounds; you realize. People come from all over the world just to go to school here which seems a little crazy but in reality it's not in the grand scheme of things.

All you family members are helping you haul your stuff up to the second floor where your dorm is. Since you are a freshman you're getting a dorm in one of the older buildings while seniors can rent out school apartments and what not. It's only the beginning, you'll reach that level some day, but for now, this is your life.

Your RA is a young woman probably around 8-10 years older than you are. A kind lady with a welcoming face. She's a bit on the shorter side, but her face also gives you the impression that she is not one to mess with.

"Good morning! You must be a new resident. Can I please get a name and an ID?" A polite nod is sent her way while you search your bag for your school ID. The trip across campus to get your ID was certainly worth it, if you hadn't gotten it before hand you would have had to walk back and get it.

The woman walks you through everything, tells you where everything is and the policies of the dorms, even though you already knew them because they had you read them online and accept them. Minutes later a key was placed in your palm, excitement and nervousness welling up in your body.

"This is it, baby. Time to see your room!" Your mom sounds a little too excited to see your dorm and she says it's because you'll be out of her house but you know she'll miss you.

It was the moment of truth when you reached your door. With no haste at all you placed the key into the lock and slowly turned it in the way that unlocks it. You pushed the door open with your leg because there was a box in one of your arms. Once you could move the box from your face you got a nice look at your room.

Definitely small... it looks pretty bland. Well, at least your side of the room does. Your roommate, Emily, had already moved her stuff in a few days prior to you and she's not here at the moment.

"Cute little room." Your mom snickers your way. When she isn't looking you roll your eyes in fake annoyance. She's most definitely making fun of you. It's not like she has room to talk though, you'd seen her dorm in pictures that she took with her roommates.

The move in was smooth. Stuff was once again everywhere. It was hard making choices of what goes where. Your family spent a little bit of time with you before they were on the road again to go back home.

You can't even lie you started missing them the second they pulled out of the parking lot. It's different, very different. Emily bursts through the door pulling you out of your sorrowful thoughts. Upon seeing her for the first time you can kind of tell she's the 'life of the party'.

"HIIII ROOMIE!!! YOU ARE SO CUTE AHHHH!! I was scared I'd end up with an ugly or weird roommate. Thank God they put me with someone cool though." She's also a chatterbox.. which you are one too but not upon first meetings.

A giggle falls from your lips at her words, you like her already, "How can you tell I'm cool if you don't even know me?"

"Trust me, I know cool people when I meet them. Sooooo do you wanna go get dinner? I was hanging out with some people I met in order to give you some time to settle in." She also seems to be considerate. The two of you will get along just fine. All your worries start to fade away as Emily talks your ear off.

The first couple days of school were nothing like you thought they'd be. When classes were over you immediately crashed in bed when you got back to your dorm. Waking up and trying to actually get ready without your mom telling you to hurry up was hard.

You managed to arrive two minutes before your first lecture but the way those seats were packed made you feel like you were late. You ended up sitting all the way in the back with some girl who had chocolate colored eyes.

Ever since then she's decided to buddy up with you. She always saves you a seat because she somehow is pretty early. Her name is Emi, you learn. Emi Miya. When your professor starts to get boring Emi will tell you stories about her crazy older brothers. You've never met them but you've heard a lot about them. Specifically a lot about the older one, Atsumu.

Three weeks into school Emi invites you to eat lunch with her at this cute little brunch place she's been frequenting. Of course you said yes because honestly you had nothing better to do. Most days you would buy lunch and take it back to your building and eat it in your dorm or one of the common areas.

Emi is so easy to talk to, which you like about her. Sometimes you can be a 'I won't talk to you unless you talk to me' kind of person so you like people like Emi who make socializing easy.

As the two of you are walking to the brunch place Emi strikes up easy conversation, "Soooo do you have a boyfriend?" Her eyebrows wiggle, causing you to laugh a little bit at her silliness.

"Nah, I haven't really met someone I can connect with. All my crushes in high school were just guys I was physically attracted to." Her eyes widen at your statement and she quickly comes to a full stop.

"No way! I thought you would for sure have a boyfriend, but your reasoning is valid. I guess that kinda makes you like a forbidden fruit, huh?" A cheeky smile is painted across her face, she knows something you don't.

"What do you mean by 'forbidden fruit'?" Genuine curiosity courses through your body as you match her steps.

"Well this little group of guys came up to me before you got to the lecture yesterday and asked me if you were single." She's kidding.. she has to be. Well maybe not.. you're attractive of course, and those boys probably just want what you can give them rather than a genuine relationship.

"Yeah well... they probably just want sex, you know?" She nods in agreement, "Which is why I told those boys you have a boyfriend. Just looking out for you."

"Thank you, Emi." The restaurant is in view now so the two of you fall into a comfortable silence.

Well what do you know? Maybe this won't be as bad as you thought it would be. It's a lot to adjust to but you've got it figured out.... for right now at least.

note: second chapter will be more interesting. you meet tsumu for the first time!! I hope you guys enjoyed this little intro chapter. i'm excited to see where this story takes us :3

taglist: @luvly-writer @bugglesboop @vleathers67 let me know if you want to be tagged!!!

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #atsumu miya #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #haikyu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #miya atsumu #haikyuu x female reader #haikyuu fluff #multi fic #multi chap fic #multi chap #haikyuu angst #atsumu angst #atsumu x female reader #he's trouble ch 1 #he's trouble

[muddyorbsblr]

all i could give you

See my full list of works here!

Summary: It seems that nearly the entirety of Asgard had forgotten that today was supposed to be a day of celebration. Everyone but you, at least.

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: some cuss words; sad Loki hours; mentions of Odin being a douche rocket of a father; Thor and the W4 being shitty friends

Things to be aware of: besties to lovers

Today's training session had gone on incessantly longer than usual, keeping you and your warrior friends in the training fields for hours more than necessary. All because Thor had thought it a grand idea to showcase his superior might by holding a friendly competition amongst yourselves. 

It took him three quarters of an hour just to best Volstagg. And then another half hour each for Fandral and Hogun. And now he and Sif were sparring away as they had been for the past twenty minutes, your leg bouncing from your impatience as you awaited your turn so that you could all finally part ways.

And then you could go find Loki and give him your present. After all, it wasn't every day that one turned a thousand years old. 

"Excited to land on your behind, Lady Y/N?" Fandral jested, motioning toward your bouncing leg. "Worry not. Thor and Sif should be finished in a while." 

"I just wish to conclude our session, that's all," you answered him, offering no explanation. After all, it should be known what today is. Truly, you wondered how come there hadn't been any celebration throughout the castle this entire day. Why everyone had gone on as if this were any regular day.

Surely they hadn't forgotten. Had they? 

"You are usually so patient, my friend," Volstagg commented. "What has you in such a state?" 

You eyed the three warriors in incredulity. "Do you truly not know?" They shook their heads slowly, apprehensively, as if they were cautious of how you would react if they said or did the wrong thing. "Norns help me, you all of you are hopeless. According to the Midgardian calendars, today is the 17th of December." 

"And that date should ring in the significance you showcase because…?" You glared at Fandral, wishing more than anything that you could scar his smug face from that comment alone. "Do not look at me like that, my friend, I only wish to know--"

"Languish in your ignorance," you told the three of them as Sif fell to the ground, Thor bellowing in victory as he pointed his weapon toward you and called you forth. "Finally." 

Your bout with the god of thunder did not take too long. You went into the training field unarmed, deftly evading his swings and avoiding getting knocked down to the ground. When the tender area under his chest was unguarded, you used the momentum behind your evasive maneuvers to bring your elbow in hard at the tender spot, knocking the air out of his lungs and loosening his hold on his training sword.

And then you reached for his weapon, easily disarming him, and pointing the blunt tip to his throat. "Yield, Son of Odin," you bellowed for the benefit of the four warriors watching with their jaws dropped as the crown prince of the realm put his hands up in surrender. "Right. That's that, then. Have we finished? Can we leave?" 

The blond prince chuckled as he undid the fastenings of his leather breastplate. "What has you in such an impatience, my friend? And who taught you that maneuver?" 

"Loki," you answered simply, knowing that he would take that as the answer to the second question. In truth, it was the answer to both. "He accepted long ago that he wouldn't be as strong a warrior as you, so he chose to observe. To evolve into a smarter one instead. And since you and your friends--"

"Our friends," he corrected you. "Do not forget you are one of us too, Lady Y/N." 

Yes, but I do not hold a title, all thanks to your father deciding not to reward those who have aligned themselves more with Loki than yourself, you thought bitterly. "Right, then…our friends…since you and our friends have insisted on not playing with him, he figured that someone should have the privilege of knocking you on your arse, so he taught me the maneuver." 

"Ever the strategic one, my brother," Thor commented, his tone surprisingly holding a touch of fondness rather than contempt. "Anyway, the Warriors Four and myself are going out on the town, fill ourselves with mead to our heart's content. Would you care to join us?" 

"You're going out drinking? Today?" There was more bite to your tone now as he shrugged. "Thor. My friend. Please tell me you know what today is." 

"The end of the week," he answered so casually it made your skin prickle in irritation. "Midgardians would call it…Saturday. Why? Where are you off to?" 

You shook your head, clicking your tongue in disappointment. "When you finally realize what today is, how important today should have been for you, you will feel a fool. For choosing to waste away today in the company of our friends, drinking to your heart's content out on the streets of Asgard." With the people who had also forgotten him. 

With your words of disdain, you marched over to your belongings, picking up the satchel that held your present. "I take it you're off to spend the day with my brother then?" Thor called out toward you. 

You threw your hand in a thumbs up gesture toward him, not once looking back or breaking your stride. "Where else would I go?" you whispered into the empty hall, moving as fast as your feet could carry you toward your dearest friend's chambers. 

When you walked through the golden double doors, it didn't take long to find him; in fact, it took no time at all since he was at the steps of the entryway, sitting with his posture slouched, shoulders slumped, head hung down. Your heart broke for him. It broke at the sight of him. You never could take it whenever he was in such a sullen mood; it was as if someone had taken all the light from your world and snuffed it out with one look at his downcast eyes. 

"What's wrong, dear prince?" You did your best to keep your tone light as you moved to take a seat next to him, a feat in itself as you noted his red-rimmed eyes, his cheeks already wet from the tears shed. "Oh, sweet boy," you choked out, tears of your own beginning to flood your vision as you pulled him into an embrace, stroking the top of his head. "What has gotten you in such a state? On a day as important as today, no less?" 

"What do you know of today?" he mumbled into your shoulder, the sound of his sniffling breaking your heart even more. 

"What do I know of today?" you repeated, an attempt at playful incredulity coloring your tone. "The day of your thousandth birthday? I know that it should be a day of celebration. That there should have been greetings coming your way from all directions. That I should have had a difficult time even getting here, shouldering my way through hordes of adoring well-wishers. That is what I know today should have been. And I know that I am livid at every single soul who forgot." 

Your father being at the top of that list, you finished in the privacy of your mind. I should have his head for forgetting about you. When he had arranged such a grand fortnight of festivities when it was Thor's turn a few years back. 

You let out a broken exhale as you felt him wrap his arms around you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck as he breathed out, "Where were you?" 

"Training ran late," you explained, your voice strained from holding back your own tears. "I used that maneuver you taught me. Put your brother on his arse." 

"I feared you'd forgotten, too." His voice came out so uncharacteristically muted, so faint that that alone could have broken you. But his words were ultimately what had the tears finally falling from your eyes. "The rest of Asgard could forget for all I damn well care, but you? I would not bear it if you--"

"Never," you cut him off. "I would never forget." You pressed a kiss to his temple as you made a motion to move away. "In fact, that's why I came here. To give you your present." 

Once he'd pulled away, breaking your embrace, he immediately placed his hands on the sides of your face, a mixture of concern and pain in his eyes as he eyed the little nicks on your face from your training with the warriors. "You're hurt…" You held your breath as he proceeded to heal each wound with his seiðr, the way he had done so for the last half millennium, pressing his lips to the injured skin. 

Your heart pounded in your chest as he pressed kisses to your temples, your cheeks, and finally to your chin. All places where one of your friends' weapons had struck you today. Long gone were the times where you would protest this particular act of care from him, since he would insist and it would be this lengthy bout of bickering between you two that ultimately ended in him healing you anyway.

Besides, it was laughable for you to protest, seeing as this would be the only manner in which Loki would kiss you. You'd be a fool to turn down even the fleeting attention of the man you loved. 

"There you are," he breathed out, a small smile breaking through as he looked upon your healed face. You reached into your satchel and pulled out the wrapped parcel, placing it in his hands. "Y/N…"

You'd once again found yourself holding your breath as he unwrapped your present: a blank grimoire you had custom made by one of the bookbinders in the kingdom, the leather set in his signature green, the hardware a brilliant, shining gold. 

"I thought merchants only made these in--"

"In your brother's colors, the imbeciles," you finished for him. "I may have persuaded one of them to make this one special. One of a kind. Just like you." He turned his gaze towards you, your chest tightening with unspoken emotions as he looked at you with an expression you could not fathom in his eyes. "Granted, I had to be the one to provide them their supplies since they couldn't be bothered. Again. Imbeciles." 

He took your hands in his, gently running his thumbs along each of your fingertips. "That day when you arrived at training with cuts on your hands? You were plucking leaves?" 

You simply nodded. "Did you know that it takes ten thousand leaves to make a dye that potent? And that Midgardians guard their gold in foolish little boxes so easily infiltrated?" you informed him with a proud smile. 

"You did all this--"

"I did," you answered his unfinished question. "And before you even ask me the why, because I know  you will ask me why, it is because you will be a master sorcerer one day. And you will need a place to store all the rituals and spells and potions that that brilliant mind will concoct." You finished your point by lightly touching your fingertips to his temple. 

When he removed the cover of the gold plated label, your heart ached at the sound of his slow intake of breath as he took in the engraving that said property of Prince Loki. "Darling is this in--"

"My hand, yes. It took a considerable learning curve but I got to make one that didn't have my blood etched in it eventually." 

"Those days you had cuts that smelled like metal shavings?" You nodded. 

"You remember those? Those were trivial wounds…I'd barely even call them--"

"I remember every one of them." He tucked his fingers under your chin, urging you to look up at him. "Y/N I cannot fathom--"

"It's not much, but I do still hope you--" 

He silenced you by pulling you into a tight embrace, once again nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, his fingers weaving into your hair. The sound of him sniffling tore at your heart once more. "It's perfect, Y/N. Just like you." 

You did not get to spend the rest of Loki's birthday with him. Not an hour after you'd given him his present, his mother arrived at his chambers, having prepared something herself to celebrate his first millennium. And much as he did try to bring you with him, almost resembling yourselves in your childhood years as he held on to your hand, you got him to relent to the sentiment that this  should simply be a moment shared between mother and son.

So the sound of knocking at your bedchamber door right as you were about to sleep was most definitely not something that you were expecting to hear. Let alone having it be Loki on the other side, looking at you as if there was a newfound knowledge in his eyes that he couldn't wait to share. 

"Shouldn't you be asleep, Your Highness?" 

"We are well past such formalities, Y/N. You know this," he evaded your question with a chuckle, bringing his hand up to cup the side of your face. You resisted the ridiculous urge to lean in to his touch. And the even more ridiculous thought of kissing his palm. 

"Not at this hour," you shot back. "The implications--"

"Fuck  the implications." He let out a low chuckle as your eyes widened  from his choice of words. "You are one of the people in this realm I hold most dear, I will not have you addressing me so formally." 

"Fine," you huffed, doing your damnedest to mask the thrill that ran through you. "What are you doing here, Loki?" 

"One of my mother's ladies in waiting informed me of a tradition on Midgard. About how a birthday celebrant is entitled to…kisses?" Your stomach dropped at the information, your mind immediately conjuring up a visual of him with his lips pressed to one of the queen's staff. "One for every year," he finished with a chuckle.

You forced a smile onto your face. "Well I'm sure that between all her ladies in waiting, each of which I'm positive are more than willing participants in this Midgardian tradition, you'd already reached your quota." The smile on his face faded as he eyed your face. 

"I turned them down," he said so simply, as if he was surprised it even needed to be pointed out. 

"Never known you as the type to turn down a perfectly willing woman. Why the change of heart?" 

He stepped toward you, placing his free hand at the curve of your waist, his other hand moving to cradle the back of your head, fingers weaving through your hair. "There has only been one woman I have wanted to kiss for the last few centuries. And the only times that I would get the chance to is when I heal her wounds." 

Your heart began to pound in your chest, so much so that you could swear that your pulse was in your ears. "Loki--"

"If I could choose who I would receive a thousand kisses from, I choose you." Tears began to flood your eyes at his words, a squeak getting caught at the back of your throat as you felt him softly press his lips to yours. "The woman I love." 

He pressed another quick kiss to your lips before you stupidly blurted out. "You love me?" 

"I do, my darling girl. And it would make not just my birthday, but my life, complete…if you would be mine. If I could court you." 

His words had you wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for another kiss. "I love you, too. I'm yours. I'm all yours." 

"I would wish for more than a thousand kisses, though, my love." 

"How many then?" 

"All of them." He wrapped his arm around you and lifted you until your feet left the ground and he walked you both further into your bedchamber. 

"I think that can be arranged," you answered coyly, smiling into the next kiss. 

He set you back on your feet and pulled away, placing his hands at your waist. You eyed him as you felt a tinge of desperation make itself known within you, your body overcome with wanting more. 

"Though tonight I must probably go," he said, a mischievous smirk gracing his annoyingly perfect face. "The palace is rife with gossips. They could see me enter your bedchambers and start to think lurid thoughts if I do not leave in a timely fashion." The tone coloring his words was obviously teasing, and yet somehow it just stirred the desperation in you even more. "The implications--"

"Fuck the implications," you blurted out, repeating his own words from earlier, standing on the tips of your toes, your hands braced on his shoulders. You shamelessly let out a whimper as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours once more, bending down and lifting you into his arms in one fluid motion. "Stay," you murmured against his lips.

A thrill ran through your body once more as he flashed you a wicked grin, laying you down on your bed. "As you wish, my love." 

A/N: Ngl, I didn't think I was gonna be able to finish this before Loki's birthday ended considering how late I started. This story was based off of this request that @ijustloveloki sent over to @sarahscribbles which she passed on to the SAS, so I hope that I did good by your request! 🥺💖

Everything tag list: @lokisgoodgirl @lokischambermaid @imalovernotahater @mygfloki @lucylaufeyson3 @thomase1 @fictive-sl0th @mochie85 @laliceee @xorpsbane @gigglingtigger @silverfire475 @cabingrlandrandomcrap @vickie5446 @salempoe @lokixryss @sinsandguilt @lokidbadguy @alexakeyloveloki @glitterylokislut @arch-venus25 @freefrommars @littlemortals @cakesandtom @girl-of-multi-fandoms @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration @five-miles-over @goblingirlsarah @peaches1958 @huntress-artemiss @lilibet261 @iobsessoverfictionalmen @holymultiplefandomsbatman @lovingchoices14 @avoliax @devilsadvocactus @purplegrrl27 @lokiprompts @sititran @imherefortomhiddleston @ladyjames78 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @kats72 @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @creationsbyme @coldnique

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #muddyorbs writes

[sadhours]

Wicked Sensation

part seventeen // billy hargrove x f!reader

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven | part twelve | part thirteen | part fourteen | part fifteen | part sixteen | part seventeen

a/n: I’m going through a bit of family stuff but writing is my outlet so i don’t think it should be affected but to play it safe, this is going to be the hardest week of my life and I might get to requests slowly and post chapters slowly but maybe I’ll post more who knows. Anyways, thank you all so much for reading. I appreciate you all endlessly.

word count: 6k

warnings: 18+ minors dni, hey Eddie still exists!, Neil being Neil, pregnancy, smut, oral (m receiving), p in v

tag list: @blue-eyed-lion @bbyhargrove @sweet-villain @actuallyspencerreid @trapistani @sierrahhh @likeanimagepassingby2

Okay, so maybe it’s a bit ridiculous. The man has put a baby in you and is moving in to your parents house, you shouldn’t have to devise a plan to get him to propose to you. You never even pictured yourself in this role before but with all the pregnancy hormones and the devotion you feel towards Billy, the prospect of being his wife and the mother of his kids is insanely appealing. Perhaps this was all Mary’s fault. She’d put the idea in your head and now it was all you could think about.

That’s how you’re awake at the ass crack of dawn with her, making a lunch for Billy to take to his first day at your dads shop. You think that maybe if you start doing wife type things, Billy will realize how badly he wants to marry you.

“You wake up this early every morning?” you ask, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

Mary smiles wide as she pours you a cup of coffee, “How do you think I get anything done?”

“There’s like more than 12 hours left of today, that seems like too much time,” you complain as you hear footsteps down the hall.

You turn to see a sleepy, messy haired Billy with an unlit cigarette perched between his lips already. That same familiar feeling warming your chest and making you swoon whenever you see him. He walks into the kitchen, pulling the cigarette from his mouth to lean down and peck your cheek.

“Morning,” he grumbles to Mary and reaches for the coffee pot.

“Oh, here!” you cheer, extending out the cup Mary had just poured for you.

Billy takes it, smiling at you, “Thanks, darlin. Care to join me?”

“You haven’t quit smoking?” Mary gives you a look of shock.

Shamefully, you shake your head. You were going to schedule an appointment today for the doctors and figured you’d ask him about your options for that. You’d been smoking since you were thirteen and weren’t sure if you could quit and Billy wasn’t going to anytime soon so you’d always have the temptation.

“They’re Lights,” Billy offers, “It’s something.”

Again, your heart swells. It’s a small thing but you love how he defends you at any opportunity. Mary gives you both a disappointed look as you follow Billy out to the backyard. He lights the cigarette and takes a long drag before handing it to you.

“We can share,” he says, “At least you’re cutting back.”

You nod and lean your shoulder into his, “Thank you. I feel like you’re the only person who gets me.”

He kisses your temple but doesn’t say anything. You’d like to think you’re the only person who gets him. Billy’s still not good at talking about his feelings. He shows you how he feels through touch, and maybe that’s enough. For now, at least. If you’re gonna start a family with him, you’d like that to change.

He takes another long drag from the cigarette and speaks up, “I’ve got to get my things today. If there is anything left. You willing to make that trip with me when I get back?”

You think that means he feels safe with you. With a soft smile, you tell him yes. You know you two have to tell Neil that you’re pregnant, or at least, you think you should. See, Billy hadn’t told you about his dad finding the Polaroids of you and you still thought that Neil liked you, so you think maybe he’ll be excited that you’re pregnant. Billy knows better and is dreading telling his dad. In fact, he doesn’t really want to tell him, doesn’t want Neil to be a grandfather at all. He knows Neil will try to control his kid since he can no longer control Billy.

“Are you excited to work for my dad?” you ask.

Billy nods, he genuinely is. He likes working on cars, figures it’ll pay enough for you guys to find an apartment in a few months. He is thinking about marriage, but he’s afraid of it. Having a child together isn’t enough to make sure either of you stay, he’s learned that. He’s also worried you might run off into another man’s arms at the first sign of trouble. It’s a fear he can’t shake.

“Yeah. You looking for jobs today?” he asks as he stumps the cigarette out in the ashtray.

Sighing, you shrug. You hadn’t planned for that but you know you should. Billy shouldn’t have to have all the financial responsibility but you had no idea what you would do. Working at your dads shop could easily turn into a career but you didn’t have that luxury. Your options were limited with only being able to work until the baby was born.

“I suppose I should,” you tell him as he stands and helps you up.

-

You pick up the phone and dial a number you’ve had memorized since grade school but you don’t remember the last time you called it.

“Hello?” Eddie’s voice rings through.

“Hi,” you say meekly.

Eddie scoffs, “You remembered I exist.”

You lay on your mattress, looking up at the ceiling as guilt drips into your system. Billy kept you so distracted from everyone and then when you were broken up shortly, Steve took up most your time. Eddie wasn’t supportive of you and Billy and selfishly, you decided Billy was most important. He still was, even more so now that you were carrying his child but you and Eddie had so much history that it would be cruel to never talk to him again.

“I’m sorry… I haven’t been fair to you,” you say softly.

“I expected you to call when I heard Billy dumped your ass but you never did,” Eddie replies, “Guess you couldn’t bear to hear an ‘I told you so’.”

“We got back together,” you mumble, “But I should’ve called. I don’t want to have to chose between the two of you.”

“Then don’t.”

“Eddie, you’re the one who made me feel like I had to in the first place,” you explain, “Billy has no issues with you.”

He’s silent and your skin crawls. You didn’t want to lose him but you understood if Eddie wanted nothing to do with you.

“I just don’t want to have to deal with it,” he says finally, “If you guys are constantly breaking up and getting back together, I’m never gonna come around to the idea of him.”

“I don’t see that happening,” you reveal, “He’s moving in and I’m pregnant, so…”

“You’re what?” Eddie’s voice sounds shocked.

“Yeah. I’m having Billy Hargrove’s baby.”

“Jesus Christ,” he exhaled, “I tell you what, I didn’t see that one happening.”

“Yeah, we didn’t either,” you chuckle.

“And he didn’t run away? He’s moving in with you? Are you guys engaged or something?”

“No! Well, not yet. I don’t know if he wants to get married,” you admit, shyly.

Eddie laughs, “He’s moving in with you and you guys are having a baby. Why the hell would he skip marrying you?”

“I don’t know. Marriage is like a big deal, a big commitment,” you say and Eddie’s laughing harder, you picture him doubling over from it.

“Why are you laughing?” you pout, feeling like you’re missing out on some joke.

Once his breathing calms down, he starts, “He’s all fine and dandy knocking you up and you’re scared he can’t commit.”

Eddie starts laughing again and you really don’t see why it’s hard to believe. You and Billy both know that kids and marriage don’t keep people together. Eddie should know that too, but here he is laughing hysterically.

“It’s not funny,” you whine and finally, he sighs.

“You’re right,” he deadpans, “it’s stupid. So I have Hellfire tonight but if you’re not busy later this week, we should hang out.”

“Can I bring Billy?” you ask, twirling the phone chord around your finger.

Another sigh and he says, “Yeah… guess I should get to know him if he’s gonna be the dad of my god child.”

You’re heart swells, but you deep down knew Eddie would forgive you. You guys were practically family.

-

Dale holds out the light blue uniform shirt to Billy, tells him they can get him an embroidered patch soon and Billy thanks him. Having a name on the shirt was a privilege at the shop in San Diego and Billy never earned it. At your dads shop, it was something everyone typically got from the first day. He wanted his employees to feel important, like they belonged on a team.

Billy pulls the shirt over his white tank top and starts buttoning it up, eyes scanning over your dads office. It’s in disarray. Tools, papers and empty paper coffee cups placed sporadically. On his desk, is a photo of you and your brother. Billy picks it up and looks closer. He suspects it’s from a past trip to Florida because your hair is shorter.

“You’ll have to come out with us from now on,” Dale says.

“What? Sorry,” he places the frame back on the desk.

“Florida. For Christmas, you’ll have to come with us,” your dad explains and Billy feels weird but not in a bad way. Christmas wasn’t ever a special holiday since his mom left. In fact, they didn’t really even celebrate it before his dad met Susan. The only thing he’d looked forward to was a card from his grandparents. However, you talked about Christmas excitedly, you’d told Billy it was your third favorite; after Halloween and Thanksgiving of course. It must be that it was fun in Florida, that holidays with your family weren’t as empty or angry as the ones Billy was used to.

“Yeah,” he says, smiling at the thought, “Wonder what the surfs like down there.”

Your dad laughs, “The waters a lot choppier than California but I imagine you’ll have fun.” He gestures to the door, “Let me give you a tour, real quick.”

Billy listens closely as your dad explains the routine of the shop and what Billy’s primary responsibilities will be before sending him in with Darla from accounting and Billy recognizes the name when your dad says it. He walks into the little office and is met with a member of his fan club, one of the housewives that would hang out around the pool.

“Billy!” she smiles wide, “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, hi,” he says as he walks up to her desk.

She keeps looking over Billy’s shoulder, causing him to turn and look.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she says, “We’re alone.”

He looks back at her with his brows furrowed. Alone? he thinks and his eyes dart down to the worn romance novel sitting on her desk. She stands and he shakes his head, “Oh, no.”

“No?” she looks disappointed.

Billy chuckles, “Dale just hired me, he sent me in here so I could fill out paperwork.”

Her disappointment evolves back into excitement, “You’re working here now?”

“Yep!” he chirps as he sits at the plastic chair across from her desk. “Saving for the baby and all.”

“Baby?” she asks and Billy revels in the defeated tone.

“Yeah, that’s why Dale’s giving me the job. His daughter and I are having a baby,” he puts his elbow on his knees and leans forward.

“Congratulations,” she says as she slams a clipboard on the desk. “Just fill this out quickly and I’ll have you in the books.”

“Awesome,” he grabs it, “Thanks.”

-

Billy takes the long way home, chain-smoking and listening to an entire cassette even though it’s typically a fifteen minute drive from the shop to home. He just needs to clear his head and his favorite way to do so is to take the road that stretches all around Hawkins and back. It’s mostly fields and farms, but it’ll take him right where he’s needs to go and he likes that it’s empty roads. He figures his alone time will be limited from here on out.

When he finally gets home, you’re voicing concerns. They’re in the form of questions, he knows you were worried but he can’t help but feel a bit suffocated. He knows these feelings are because of his looming fear of seeing his dad but he can’t help but lash out.

“I just took a drive,” he bites, “Can you chill out? It’s not even late.”

You stare back up at him, a little stunned but you press your palm on his chest and rub in circles, “I’m sorry.”

Billy doesn’t expect that reaction and his first response is to push you away, but that’s Neil getting in his head. He sighs and wraps his arms around you, pulling you to his chest and tucking his face into your neck.

“No, I’m sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, “Just not looking forward to going over there.”

Your hands circle around his waist and you squeeze him, “I’ll be with you. We’ll make it quick, just grab as much as we can and leave.”

He pulls back and hooks his finger under your chin, tilting your head back as he leans in to press his lips to yours. It’s chaste but lets you know he trusts you. And anytime his lips are on you, it heats up your thighs and leaves you a little breathless.

“Shall we get it over with then?” Billy grumbles though his tone suggests he really doesn’t want to.

You lace your fingers and pull him out the door. He allows you to lead him across the street and then the two of you just stand at the door. Billy feels as if he has to knock, like he hasn’t just spent a little less than a year living in this house. His knuckles tap against the wood as he prays Max answers the door. She doesn’t.

“It’s about damn time,” Neil spews as he stares at Billy, eyes dark. He eyes dart to you and then back to his son, “Needed your safety blanket, did ya?”

Your blood boils so you squeeze Billy’s hand tighter, “We’re just here to get some of his stuff.”

You figure you’ll do the talking, maybe make this a little easier. Neil opens the door wide, stepping back and you can see Susan peeking her head out of the kitchen. Billy tugs you inside, making a beeline for his bedroom door. Upon opening it, Billy sees that Neil has sold all his stuff and all that’s left is his stereo system and two packed boxes on the floor. His face heats up, he wants to scream at his dad but it’s a losing battle. He knows what Neil will say. He bought everything that was in there. Billy knows because the stereo is still there, it was the first thing Billy bought when he got his first ever paycheck.

He heaves a sigh and then looks over to you, “Can you manage the two boxes? It won’t hurt the… ya know.”

“Billy, I’m like maybe a few weeks along, it’s a little tadpole in there,” you say and then your eyes widen, realizing that you’ve just admitted you were pregnant.

You turn around to see Neil standing in the doorway, looking dumbfounded.

“Fuck,” Billy curses, bringing his hand to rub his brow.

“What was that?” Neil asks, stepping into the room.

Billy heaves a sigh and turns to his dad, “Nothing.”

“Nothing?” he scoffs, “Sounded to me like your little girlfriend just said she’s pregnant.”

“Pregnant?” Susan’s voice rings through the hall and she hurries to stand in the doorway.

Billy doesn’t say anything, he just starts stacking the speakers onto the cassette deck.

“You really fucked up,” Neil laughs sinisterly, the sound startling you and causing bile to rise up your throat. You swallow it down and go to grab the boxes but Neil stops you, “I’ll get the boxes. You shouldn’t be doing any heavy lifting.”

“No, it’s fine,” you try but he’s already picking them up with ease and heading for the door.

“Shit,” Billy says, grabbing the stereo and following after his dad.

You eye Susan curiously before walking out behind your boyfriend. Neil’s already at your doorstep when you get outside and Billy’s quickly shuffling across the street after him.

“Dad,” he calls out.

Neil bangs on the door and your dad opens it. Your hearts in your chest as you run after them. You have no idea what Neil’s plan is but you’re scared he’s gonna deck your dad right in the face.

“Neil,” your dad says, opening the door wider to let him in. You and Billy right behind him.

“Go ahead and just set those down anywhere,” Mary says to him, perched over the kitchen counter.

You shut the door behind you, letting out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

“Dad,” Billy pleads again, but nothing follows. He doesn’t know what he’s asking Neil not to do.

“So my sons knocked your daughter up, has he?” Neil says after dropping the boxes on the floor.

This is all your fault. The guilt rises in your throat and threatens to pour out, you reach to Billy for comfort once he’s set the stereo down.

“It would appear so,” your dad says, leaning against the kitchen table as he looks to Neil casually.

“And you didn’t kill him?” Neil responds, crossing his arms.

Your dad shrugs, “I like the kid.”

Neil chuckles, but it doesn’t sound happy, like he can’t fathom anyone liking his son. He shakes his head, seems defeated and you and Billy both admire your dad.

“Is that all, then?” your dad asks, crossing his arms.

“Well what’s the plan then? When are you getting married?” Neil asks, turning to his son now.

Billy clears his throat and you notice he starts tapping his foot, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Neil scoffs, “Well, boy, you better figure it out. You don’t want to marry her? You should’ve thought that before you did something so damn irresponsible.”

The words sting your chest and your dad moves in front of Billy, physically shielding him from Neil.

“Thanks for stopping by,” your dad says, “We’ll make sure to let you know the plan.”

Billy’s shocked when his dad retreats, through all the years of abuse, he’s never seen his dad give up on a fight. He takes a deep breath when the door slams. Most of all, though, he’s embarrassed. Without a word, he picks the stereo up and lugs it into your room.

“Thank you, dad…” you hug your father, unable to truly express your gratitude.

“Let Billy know that I didn’t only do that for you, I did it for him,” your dad says, a solemn smile on his face.

You nod, squeezing him once more before trailing to your room to see Billy still holding the stereo. He has no idea where to put it, you have too much stuff. You put your hand on his shoulder, “I’ll give mine to my brother. Yours is better anyways.”

Billy heaves a sigh, remaining silent as he watches you unplug your stereo and gather the speakers. You leave to put it in your brothers room, saying a quiet hello to him when he peers up at you from his book.

“Aw, really?” he sets the book down and sits up.

You place it on his dresser, “Yeah, Billy’s is better than this one.”

“Thanks, sis,” he says, springing up from his bed, “I don’t have any cassettes.”

“I’ll give you some,” you offer, placing your hands on your hips as you look at him.

“Was that his dad?” he asks, biting his nail.

You slap his hand from his mouth, not wanting him to form the habit, “Yeah.”

“Are you really having a baby?” he asks, a tilt of his head.

You nod, giggling as you ruffle up his hair, “Yeah, you’re gonna be an uncle.”

He grins up at you, “I hope it’s a boy.”

“Billy does too,” you reply, “I hope it’s a girl.”

“Typical,” your brother says, poking at the buttons on the stereo set.

You roll your eyes and head back to your room, noticing Billy’s set up the stereo but he’s no longer in the room. You peer curiously out the door to see him walking up to you with the boxes in his hands. He sets them on the floor and sits in front of them, opening the first up to inspect what Neil wanted him to keep. To his surprise, it’s all the things he's kept of his mothers. His heart aches, wanting so desperately to tell her she’s going to be a grandmother, wanting to tell her everything that’s happened since she left.

“He didn’t throw any of it away,” Billy mumbles in disbelief.

“Is it your moms stuff?” you ask, as you sit beside him.

He hands you a photo, it’s of an infant Billy being held by a beautiful blonde lady. You’d never seen any photos of Billy as a baby.

“Huh,” you say, “So our kids gonna be this cute.”

Billy shoves you playfully, “With any luck, it’ll only have my genes.”

You giggle, happy when this side of Billy makes a resurgence. “I’m hoping and praying.”

He hands you another photo, one of when he’s roughly a year old and he’s standing in front of his mom while holding onto her hands. He’s learning how to walk. You scan over it, smiling back at his mom. “She’s so pretty,” you muse, “You look like her.”

You swear he blushes, “Yeah, she was beautiful.”

He continues pulling the items out, showing you every photo and explaining every random item. Billy visibly relaxes, an easy smile plastered on his face and he’s never looked prettier. You kiss his face, starting at his jaw and all the way up to his hairline.

“Oh! Wait!” You spring up and barrel out of the room, only to return with an empty photo album. You sit back down and hand it to him, “Here, you can put them in here.”

He takes it gratefully and gradually, the two of you fill the photo album. Billy then moves onto the second box. It’s his jewelry and a few clothing items but at the bottom of it, his dirty magazines sit. Billy laughs, pulling them out.

“Why the hell didn’t he just throw these away?”

“Who is he to become between a man and his porn collection?” you tease, pulling the first Penthouse magazine from him.

You start flipping through it, seeing in your peripheral that Billy’s watching you with an amused expression. After flipping a page, Polaroids fall into your lap. You drop the magazine and gather up the photos, blushing when you see they’re of you and Billy. Some raunchier than others.

“You kept these?” you ask, softly.

“How do you think I got through those weeks without ya?” he nudges your shoulder.

You look at him, mouth agape. You’re extremely flattered at the thought of Billy pleasuring himself to photos of you. Granted, half of these, his dick is inside of you but still.

“You jacked off to these?” you ask, lowering your voice.

“Oh, yeah,” he says, grabbing them from your hand and shuffling through them. “This one’s my favorite,” he hands you a Polaroid, it’s one of the day at the lake.

You’re embarrassed as you look down at your body, riding Billy on a towel with your swimsuit top not covering your breasts but pulled to the sides. Then you tilt your head, looking at where your bodies meet and you can see just the tiniest inch of his cock. It is a hot photo and you remember how turned on you got when Billy reached for the camera.

Suddenly, you feel his lips on your neck and then his tongue, wet and hot against your sensitive flesh. You moan softly at the feeling, tilting your head even more to give him access while you continue to look at the photo. He reaches into your pants, cupping you over your underwear and your breath hitches in your throat. He gently moves his fingers, teasing the wetness out of you. The photo flutters out of your grip.

“You like it, too,” he notes, feeling you soak through the thin cotton.

“Uh huh,” you moan, awkwardly spreading your thighs and feeling as the magazines and photos fall from your lap onto the floor.

His hand rises a bit, just to snake into your underwear and his fingertips drag up through folds and stop at your clit. He sucks on your neck, rubbing languid circles against your sensitive bud. You lean back, hands pressing on the floor behind you to keep you upright. Billy’s fingers feel like magic, always do. You ache for him, want to feel him all over. You get frustrated sometimes, wanting him closer even if he’s as close as he can physically be.

“Billy,” you whimper, your arms shaking as you try to hold yourself up but when he slides two fingers inside you, you collapse onto your back and kick your feet out to spread your legs further.

He chuckles, leaning down to kiss your lips softly. He pulls away too quickly, so you cling onto his shirt and pull him back down, feeling his smile into the kiss. You lick against his teeth, still pulling at his shirt. He gives you what you want, licking into your mouth and curling his fingers inside you. Your back arches off the ground, moaning into his mouth. He groans back, his fingers faltering when you reach over to feel his cock straining against his jeans. You’re eager, unbuttoning his jeans and trying to claw them down, but with the way he’s positioned you can’t. He lifts his bum up and helps shove them to his thighs with his free hand. Your fingers wrap around his cock as soon as it’s free, stroking him quickly. He laughs against your mouth.

“Slow down,” he mumbles and you lick his teeth again, groaning in protest but you still listen.

You can hear his breathing and the slick sound of his fingers pumping in and out of your soaking pussy. You swipe your thumb against his tip, feeling his precum bubbling out and you spread it around which earns you a guttural groan from the blonde. You lift your other hand and push him back, leaning yourself over to take him in your mouth. You have to taste. Swirling your tongue around his pulsing head, your hand strokes whatever’s not in your mouth. Billy leans his head back, biting his lip to stifle his moans. If only he’d turned on the stereo when he plugged it in.

Billy’s pulling his hand away only to snake both of them into your hair, propping himself on his knees and pushing you further down on his cock. You’d be pissed about the loss but his pursuit of his own pleasure turns you on more. You position yourself better in front of him, grabbing onto his thighs while you breath through your nose as you take him into your mouth as deep as you can. You bob your head, by the aid of Billy’s grip on your hair as he guides you up and down. You look up to see his eyes meeting yours, mouth slightly agape and his eyes glassy. You can’t help but gag as he reaches the back of your throat and he moans, voice hoarse and just a tad whiny. It makes you squirm, feeling slick dripping down your thighs.

“Fuck,” he whines, as you pull off him with a loud pop, drool stringing between your lips and the head of his cock.

You stick your tongue out, eyes wide up at him and he wraps his fingers around his cock as he slaps it against your tongue. Your lips tug up before you wrap them around his head again, sucking hard and then pulling off again. Billy’s pushing you down into your back, then. He rips your leggings and panties off before following suit with your top and bra. As he’s lining himself up with your center, you start unbuttoning his work shirt and pushing it off his shoulders, the sleeves catching at his elbows. He gets the hint, smiling when he pulls it off and then grabs the hem of his tank top, bringing it over his head and tossing it aside. He presses his palm against your chest, easing you back down. He grabs his dick again and presses his tip through your folds, shaking it against your clit. You gasp, hands squeezing your own breasts.

“Give it to me, Billy,” you beg, “please.”

He smirks and then plunges his cock into you. It stings slightly as he bottoms out, his hand coming up to dig his fingers into your thigh. Your eyes flutter shut and he brings his other hand to grab your jaw.

“Look at me,” he orders and you obey, eyelids flying open to see his gorgeous, flushed face looking back at you.

Billy shoves his fingers in your mouth and you suck on them lazily, moaning around them as he rocks his hips against you. He pumps in and out of you, deep and slow as his thumb digs into your cheek. It’s crazy, with his fingers shoved in your mouth and his cock balls deep in you, all you can think is how fucking much you love him. How you can’t live without him. How you never want to go a day without this.

“Closer,” you mouth around his fingers.

He pulls them out and looks down at you curiously, slowing his thrusts.

“Closer, want you closer,” you plead.

Billy smiles, leaning down and wrapping his arms around you before pulling you up, holding you against his chest. Your arms circle his neck, holding him close while he moves his hips quicker again. You moan softly against his ear, clinging onto him for dear life. His arms tighten around you and you’re thankful for all the working out he does. He’s able to press against your g-spot with every thrust as this angle and you’re quickly coming undone around him. In attempt to help, you writhe against him. His labored breathing followed by small, high pitched moans in your ear pushes you along. You scratch at his upper back, letting him know you’re close and he starts pounding up into you harder. It snaps, the build up of your orgasm falling over the edge and you shake against him, biting his shoulder to quiet the cry you let out.

Billy’s leaning down, resting you on your back and relentlessly thrusting into you. You scratch all the way down his back, overwhelmed with pleasure as you ride out your climax. He freezes, eyes squeezing shut and gritting his teeth as he releases inside of you. You hold onto his face, wrapping your legs around his waist and grinding your hips up against him. He whimpers, hands grabbing onto your hips to pin you down. He collapses his weight on top of you and it’s the most comfortable feeling in the world. You squeeze him in your arms and pepper his neck with kisses.

He finally lifts himself up to his elbows and gazes down at you, curls sticking to his face with sweat. He looks ethereal, always does but more so now than ever.

“I love you,” he whispers, caressing your face.

“I love you, Billy.”

-

Three months of saving and he’s about to burn through it in an instant. Billy peers down at the ring, reading the engraving and second guessing himself. Not about proposing, but about the words he’s chosen.

Forever, Snoopy.

He knows you’ll get it but it feels cheesy and he’s a bit uncomfortable with that side of him showing. He knows he shouldn’t feel embarrassed around you. Besides, girls like that kind of mushy, romantic stuff. Billy has a hard time with being perceived as anything other than tough and cool so he tells himself you’ll think the ring is cool and that it was very cool of him to reference how you met and totally not tacky and cheesy.

It burns a hole in his pocket as he walks into the restaurant, seeing you sitting there with your dad, brother and Mary and wonders if proposing in such a public setting is a bad idea. Oh, God, what if you say no?

He feels his lunch threaten to make a reappearance and he redirects his path to the bathroom. He locks the door behind him and looks at himself in the mirror. He wore his best shirt, the maroon one and he’s only buttoned the last two buttons. He shimmies out of his leather jacket, suddenly feeling too hot. He rests it on the counter and then turns the cold water on. He splashes it on his face and then takes a deep breath. Why would you say no? There’s no possible timeline in which you say no to marrying him.

Hell, he’d asked your dad this morning and if he doubted your acceptance he would’ve said something like ‘Sure, Billy, spend all of the tiny bit you’ve saved to move out of my house to get rejected by my daughter’ instead of “Yes, of course you have my blessing.”

Billy takes a deep breath and exits the bathroom, only to turn around and retrieve his jacket. Nerves be damned, he was gonna marry you. He arrives to the table and you stand to greet him, his eyes darting to the tiny baby bump more obvious than it’s ever been in the tight dress you’re wearing. He kisses you, hand pressing to your hip as he does so.

“Hi, baby,” you say to him with those dreamy eyes.

“Hi,” he coos back, his nerves subsiding the second your eyes meet. He forgets why he was nervous in the first place. “Sorry, I'm late,” he apologizes to you and then your family, as he sits down.

Your dad gives him a knowing smile and it makes Billy even more nervous. He’s in his own head during the whole dinner, missing questions directed at him. You reach over and squeeze his bicep, asking if he’s alright and Billy just nods.

Then he tells himself he’s got nothing to worry about and maybe right now isn’t the right time to propose. He ignores your dads pointed looks and when you excuse yourself to restroom Billy announces to the table, “I am going to propose just not here.”

“You nervous?” Dale chuckles, sipping his wine.

Billy blushes, “I just… I don’t know, feel like we should be alone.”

Mary reaches in her bag and pulls out the Polaroid camera, “Then you have to take the photo.”

“I can’t do both at the same time,” Billy explains, a little exasperated.

Mary grins, “Why don’t you do it when she gets back? As she walks up, get down on one knee.”

Billy’s eyes widen, thinking about what a spectacle that would be, “God, no. I want to do it when we’re alone.”

“It’s their story, Mary,” your dad says, “Let them write it.”

“Fine,” she grumbles and reaches for her wine.

“I’ll ask for you if you’re scared,” your brother offers Billy earnestly.

Billy pats his back, “Thanks, kid but I’ve got to do this myself.”

You return to the table and raise an eyebrow as they all turn to Billy expectantly, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Billy smiles too wide at you.

And he doesn’t ask, he thinks about it when you’re cuddling before bed that night but he can’t bring himself to do it. He presses kisses against the back of your neck

“You know I love you, right?” he mumbles, almost too quiet for you to hear.

You lean your head back, awkwardly angling your lips to his. He squeezes your waist and kisses back deeply.

“I love you, too Billy. Why are you acting weird?” you turn around to look into his eyes.

“I’m not acting weird,” he argues, but his cheeks feel hot.

“Are you trying to ask for a blow job?” you tease, pushing his hair back.

“I mean…” he laughs, “If you’re offering, I’ll accept.”

“Go to bed,” you giggle and tuck your head in his shoulder.

He’ll ask in the morning, he decides.

#billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove angst #billy Hargrove smut #billy hargrove x f!reader

[threadsun]

Anonymous Asks: "Weird request if u even do request, maybe u write something about Ranger!Alan"

Oooh yes, I wanna write more Alan stuff!! And this gave me an excuse to geek out about birds again too >:3c

Content: mostly just goofy cuteness and bird nerds, slight yandere hints at the very end because it's still Alan lmao

The whole day’s been a bit of a bust, really. A couple of red-bellied woodpeckers, a mockingbird, and more grackles than you can count. The woods are nice, at least. It’s cold and breezy, a lovely day for a hike. You’ve gotten a decent amount of exercise in, walking around the nature reserve to try and find interesting birds.

You’re about to give in and head back home when a sound stops you in your tracks. It’s a sharp staccato of a call. It goes on for a few seconds and then abruptly stops. You wait for an agonising minute before it sounds once more. It could be… It would be a longshot, but… Maybe…?

It’s hard not to get your hopes up. You try to temper them with reminders of the day’s disappointments. But you can’t fully push them down as your eyes scan the trees for any sign of the bird who made the call. There’s a flash of yellow overhead, and then the call sounds once more from behind you.

You turn slowly, watching the bird zip by overhead again to land on a new branch, hidden from your sight. Its wingspan is only about seven inches. A spark of hope flickers in your chest, and you once again try to push it down. There’s no way…

It flies past again, still too quick to properly focus on its pattern. You can only really get a good idea of how big it is. About four and a half inches long. It’s yellow and black and white and… maybe it is? Maybe it really is?

It lands on a branch further into the woods. You slowly bring your binoculars up, desperate not to make a move sudden enough to scare it. All you need is one good look at it. Just one glance at its pattern and colouration before you can be certain in your identification. Just one look…

Snap.

The bird takes off with a startled call, flying far too quickly for you to follow. You watch it go, your one chance at a successful bird sighting that day. With a scowl, you round on the idiot whose careless footsteps scared it off.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You wish there was more venom in your voice, but mostly you just sound a bit like your scolding an unruly child. The man behind you has the good grace to look embarrassed. He rubs at the back of his neck, removing his ranger hat to hold it to his chest.

“Sorry about that.”

Your anger simmers down to a mild annoyance at the sight of his uniform. It’s hard to be mad at someone whose job it is to keep the woods safe. Still, did he need to be in this stretch of woods right now?

“The one interesting bird today, and you had to scare it off.” You sigh and run a hand through your hair, letting your binoculars fall to rest around your neck.

“There was a bear sighting.” He sounds half defensive and half amused. “In this exact spot, in fact.”

His amusement is lost on you for all of ten seconds before you follow his gaze to your arms. Oh. Your brown jacket and brown pants. It’s so stupid, you can’t help but give an incredulous laugh. A bear sighting.

“Now that I think about it, the woman who called it in was rather old. And was also checking the lost and found for her glasses.” The ranger grins at you, stifling a snicker.

“For fuck’s sake.” You give something between a laugh and a sigh, flipping your notebook closed. “Do I really look like a bear?”

He stares appraisingly at you for a moment, and you can’t tell if it’s in jest or not. “No, you look like a twitcher.”

You purse your lips. “Birder, actually. I don’t care how rare the bird is, I’m just trying to fill this thing.” You lift your notebook for a moment.

He holds a hand out. “Your life-list? May I?”

The momentary hesitation isn’t lost on him, and when you finally hold the notebook out, he handles it with great care. He flips through it, looking at the list of birds you’ve seen. You’re rather proud of it, normally. It’s got a good number of birds. But you’re sure that it looks nothing short of pathetic to a ranger.

“What were you hoping to add to it?” He finally speaks up once he finishes perusing the list.

“Oh…” You can feel the heat rising in your face. It’s almost embarrassing to say aloud now. It’s so unlikely that you were right anyway… “It doesn’t matter. I don’t think it’s what I thought it was.”

He hums thoughtfully. “And what did you think it was?”

“A… Golden-winged warbler.” You feel stupid, saying it aloud. Such a rare and elusive bird? How could you have seen one here? “It was just, I mean the call. And there was yellow on it. It was the right size and shape…”

“It’s possible.” He takes it so seriously, it catches you off guard. He nods and replaces his hat, glancing off into the trees. “The lake is just through there, it would make sense.”

“Have you seen them around here before?” You find yourself drifting closer to him, warming to the conversation.

“Oh, yes.” He nods solemnly. “Rescued a nest from a particularly boisterous off-leash dog last spring.”

You grimace. Off-leash dogs, a birder’s worst nightmare. They scare off all the wildlife, not to mention the harm they can do to the native bird populations. The idea of one getting to the nest of such an endangered bird sets you on edge.

“Good thing a ranger like you was here to save them then.” You tilt your head, scanning his uniform for some sort of nametag.

“Oh,” he seems to realise what you’re looking for. “Alan.”

You smile and introduce yourself. “So, Alan…” the name suits him. “You really think it could’ve been a golden-winged warbler?”

“Not sure enough to add it to your life-list, but… Could’ve been.” He seems to get an idea, eyes lighting up as he gestures for you to follow him. “But maybe I can make it up to you for scaring it off?”

It’s… not a good idea, following a strange man into the woods. But he’s a ranger. And he seems so excited to show you whatever he’s leading you towards… So you follow him.

It’s peaceful, walking in the woods with him. He treads more carefully than you’d expected from that first twig snap. He seems to enjoy the sounds of nature as much as you do, maybe even more. He leads you through the thinning trees towards the edge of the lake.

He stops suddenly behind the last big tree before the clearing, pulling you around to stand in front of him. He holds a finger to his lips and leans down until his head is right next to yours. He guides your eyeline with his finger, directing your gaze to a tall white bird standing at the water’s edge.

Your heart pounds. You’re not sure if it’s because of his warm body pressed close against your back and the tickling breath brushing across your neck, or from the sight of a new bird you’d never expected to see.

“Is that…?”

“A great egret.”

“But they’re coastal birds. There’s hardly any in the state at all.” You keep your voice to a barely audible whisper, but he seems to have no trouble picking it up. You idly wonder if he can also pick up the sound of your heart beating wildly in your chest.

“There’s a single nesting pair who come here around this time of year.” His voice is so low, you can feel the rumble of it in his chest. “I thought it might make a nice addition to your list. I didn’t see it on there.”

As he pulls away from you, a nervous grin blooms on his face. His hand drifts up to rub at the back of his neck again. It’s endearing, how sweet and gentle he is. How eager he is to make up for his mistake. And how excited he seems about the wildlife in the forest.

You pull out your notebook, adding the great egret to your list. Your phone buzzes in your pocket just as you tuck the notebook away, and you grimace. It’s your alarm, it’s time to go home. With a sigh, you stand on your toes and press your lips to Alan’s cheek in a friendly—if impulsive— kiss.

“Thank you, Alan.”

He watches you hurry back into the woods with a shaky exhale, fingers drifting up to his cheek. There’s so much more he wants to say. He wants to ask for your number. To ask if you’ll be back to look for birds again soon. To ask if you want to go to dinner. He wants to chase after you and offer to walk you back to your car.

But it’s all he can do to let his knees give out and lean against the tree, hearts in his eyes. He will see you again. He’ll make sure of it.

#my dear hatchet man #mdhm #alan orion #alan orion x reader #gn!reader #18+ only #sunshine

[crystalyssa35]

A General Guide to Writing Well, Now, & Consistently

In all my years writing, I have struggled with keeping writing as a fun and healthy habit. It took me five years (and many instances of writer's block and giving up) to actually have a basic set of guidelines to keep my writing going...

And I would like to share these "rules" with you all today!

Now, a bit of a disclaimer: developing the quality of your writing skills comes with time, research, and thinking. It may sound frustrating to hear, and you may hear it often, but the only way to get better at writing is to write and read often. Many times, just by jotting a silly thought down or reading fanfiction, you can spawn ideas without realizing it.

Now, to the list of tips that (I hope) will help you on your writing endeavors!

If you are not having fun writing your story, your readers will not have fun reading it. It sounds silly, but it's true! If you're enjoying your writing, you're more likely to write more and input more ideas into it!

Even if you have people to check your works, reread them on your own anyway. This may be a little frustrating tip for some, but let me tell you: I used to HATE checking my own stuff. The worst way I learned that personally checking it is a necessity was when my aunt checked it and pointed out tens of mistakes within my grammar, storyline, and characters. Check yo work, it will save you a LOT of embarrassment in the future.

Write anything. Read everything. As ambiguous and obscure as it will sound, it makes sense with context. As I mentioned before, the only way to get better at writing is to write and read often. Write anything your mind desires, that's simple enough. But read EVERYTHING; not only books, blogs, and articles, but also games, texts with friends, billboards, pictures with text, and (sorry, students) even homework as well. You'll be surprised how much your vocabulary expands when you actually pay attention to anything that is written (for me, it was video games. Seven-year old me knew vocabulary that I was taught in seventh grade because of it). And on that note...

Research what you don't know. Please, this one is genuinely important (I'm biased because it's one of my pet peeves). This includes words you don't know the definition of, spelling, and even generic, real-life information you want to add into your stories (e.g. I actually spent four hours researching how gemstones are categorized for my sci-fi story: Eco-Adstrum). Unfortunately, sometimes researching and fact-checking your ideas before writing them down can prove to be unmotivating, especially when you're wrong. But, it's always good to stay optimistic and be creative enough to twist the actual fact to mold it to your stories. Unless you're writing non-fiction, then maybe don't do that last bit.

If you have no ideas, keep wiggling your pencil. To those that recognize that phrase, yes, it is not my own. This is a piece of writing from former Tumblr user "officialtheonite" (I was only able to find the post because it has been reblogged multiple times) and their fifth grade writing teacher. Essentially, even if you have no ideas, keep writing. Write ANYTHING, even if it doesn't make sense. You will always be able to double-check it later and you will save yourself a lot of wasted time sitting around trying to stir the soup in your brain.

Balance the usage of your names and pronouns. To this day, I still struggle with this. I tend to use an abundance of pronouns when I'm referring to a character, so much so that sometimes, it becomes unclear on if we are still talking about aforementioned character or if we're talking about a different character entirely. Use names when the focus or action of a character is on stage; use pronouns if we are still talking about said character (even if we are talking about the same character, make sure you at least reiterate their name when there's a new paragraph).

I'll be editing and reworking this list as time goes on. I hope these tips can be of use so some of you all. Feel free to ask me any questions if needed. Enjoy writing and keep at it! I believe in you all!

#writing #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing thoughts #creative writing #personal experience #ask me questions #writing advice #writer things #writeblr #writerscommunity

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Prompt 25 with mommy lesso 🥰

Heyyyy @slayqueen77790 !!! Thanks for the request! We love mommy Lesso 🥹 I took this one in a interesting direction… 😄

Unexpected Desires ~Lady Lesso x Dovey x Anemone xFem Professor!Reader

Link to Part 2

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#25. “I dare you to kiss the person you’d want to fuck the most in this group.”

Warnings: NSFW, implied smut, kissing, mommy kink, implied foursome…

Enjoy (;

It was finally Friday. And you had finished grading all the exams for the evening. You sighed in relief as you leaned back in your chair, glancing at the clock. You had a few minutes before Clarissa’s “mandatory female faculty bonding”.

You sighed again and got up from your chair to make your way to the faculty room. This was now the second time Clarissa had done one of these bonding meetings, and the last one was interesting to say the least… So you entered the staff room and were immediately bombarded by Clarissa.

“Y/N! Your here!” She said with excitement.

She pulled you into the room fully, making you sit down on one of the many sofas. You looked around and found Anemone and Lesso who looked like they had also just been pulled in by Clarissa’s excitement. Clarissa then giddily sat down and the nights shenanigans began…

A few hours later, the four of you were all slightly tipsy and laughing at the dumbest shit. Clarissa then got the bright idea to play truth or dare but “with a twist” she said.

“What are you babbling on about, Dovey?” Lesso asked with annoyance lacing her tone.

“It truth or dare except one person asks all the others and then everyone but the person who asked has to do it!” She squealed with exitement.

Lesso’s eyes gleamed at Clarissa’s words, which raised your suspicion.

“I’ll go first.” Lesso matter of factly stated, “Truth or Dare.”

“Dare.” Anemone quipped back before either you nor Clarissa could comment.

And before you could weigh in, Lesso had said it…

“I dare you to kiss the person you’d want to fuck the most in this group.”

Everyone went silent at this.

Lesso was the one to break the ice, “Oh for Gods sake, I’ll go first.” She huffed, standing up and pulling Clarissa up, crashing her lips together.

Clarissa was surprised but quickly reciprocated. When Lesso backed off and sat back down, Anemone was up and standing.

“I’ll go.” She said, before making her way over to your and attaching her lips to yours.

You whimpered into the kiss, letting her take the lead. But the kiss had to end…

Clarissa excitingly exclaimed she wanted to go next. She practically fell on top of you, gracing your lips with hers. Her kiss was a lot more soft and drunken than Anemone, who kissed with intention.

Clarissa retracted herself and sat back down. And now the attention was on you. You gulped and shakily stood up. You took a deep breath and went over to Lesso, who quirked her brow at you.

You fell in her lap and her lips meet yours. She was feistier than the other two and immediately dominated the kiss. After a minute or so, you broke apart. You sat there awkwardly, your breathing uneven as she stared at you and you stared back.

You then noticed the silent stares of Anemone and Clarissa…

“I’m more than happy to share…” Lesso teased.

“Sorry, what?” You asked.

Lesso leaned into your body, her lips ghosting your ear, “Your three coworkers all want to see you ruined…” she purred.

You whimpered at that. You looked at the Anemone and Clarissa who both watched you with silent eyes.

“Yes please…” you whispered.

“It’s mommy, pet…” Lesso growled.

“Yes mommy…”

Part 2 with smut😏

#leonora lesso smut #lady lesso smut #lady leonora lesso smut #lady leonora lesso #clarissa dovey x leonora lesso #lesso x reader #lady lesso x reader #professor lesso #leonora lesso x reader #professor dovey x reader #professor clarissa dovey x reader #professor lesso smut #professor lesso x reader #professor dovey x professor lesso #clarissa dovey #dovey x lesso #clarissa dovey smut #dovey x reader #professor dovey smut #professor clarissa dovey smut #emma anemone #emma anemone smut #emma anemone x reader #school for good and evil fanfic #school for good and evil smut #the school for good and evil smut #school for good and evil #the school for good and evil #dean of evil smut #dean of good

[mybabydenkikaminari]

Compilation of Rlain and Renarin references and mentions of each other

Hi everyone! I have become obsessed with my two babes since I finished RoW and I haven’t found any compilation of all the times they talk about each other, so here we are. There are not a lot of them but the list will grow so much in the Knights of Wind and Truth, that I wanted to be ready!! And If you are wondering, yes I am sure that I have every single one of them (thanks to the Stormfather that we can search for words with Kindle).  Enjoy the little crumbs that we got <3. 

The Way of Kings

None

Words of Radiance

None

Oathbringer: 

Chapter 37 - Rock PoV

“Don’t deny it, Rock. Lopen is … well Lopen. And you’re obviously… um… you. But I’m still the strange one.” 

Lunamor slapped dough onto a rock, then pointed toward where Rlain -the Parshendi bridgeman they used to call Shen- sat on a rock near his squad, watching quietly as the others laughed at Eth having accidentally stuck a stone to his hand. He wore warform, and so was taller and stronger than he had been before-but the humans seemed to have completely forgotten that he was there. 

“Oh”, Renarin said. “I don’t know if he counts.”

“This thing is what everyone always tells him” Lunamor said “Over and over again.” 

Renarin stared for a long time while Lunamor continued to make bread. Finally, Renarin stood up and dusted off his uniform, walked across the stone plateau, and settled down beside Rlain. Renarin fidgeted and didn’t say anything, but Rlain seemed to appreciate the company anyway. 

Chapter 55 - Rlain PoV:

Rlain sipped his drink and wished Renarin were here; the quiet lighteyed man usually made a point of speaking with Rlain. The others jabbered excitedly, but didn’t think to include him. Parshmen were invisible to them-they’d been brought up that way. 

And yet, he loved them because they did try.  

-

“So…” Skar said. “Are we going to talk about Renarin?”

The twenty-eight men shared looks, many settling down around the barrel of Rock’s drink as they once had around the cookfire. There were certainly a suspicious number of buckets to use as stools, as if Rock had planned for this, The Horneater himself leaned against the table he’d brought out for holding cups, a cleaning rag thrown over his shoulder.

“What about him?” Kaladin asked, frowning and looking around at the group.

(They proceed to complain that reading is feminine with one of the most stellar quotes of Lopen: “Drehy likes other guys. That’s like … he wants to be even less around women than the rest of us. It’s the opposite of feminine. He is, you could say, extra manly”)

Kaladin rubbed his forehead, and Rlain empathized. 

-

He felt embarrassed for them-they were simply too concerned about what a person should and shouldn’t be doing. It was because they didn’t have forms to change into. If Renarin wanted to be a scholar, let him be a scholar

-

“I’m sorry” Kaladin said, holding out his hand to calm the men “I wasn’t trying to insult Drehy. But storms, men. We know that things are changing. Look at the lot of us. We’re half-way to being lighteyes! We’ve already let five women into Bridge Four, and the’ll be fighting with spears. Expectations are being upended-and we’re the cause of it. So let’s give Renarin a little leeway, shall we?” 

Rlain nodded.  Kaladin was a good man.

Rhythm of War

Chapter 54 - Renarin PoV

We need more, Glys said. We need more like us, who will be. Who?

I can think of one, Renarin said, who would be a perfect choice…

Chapter 79 - Rlain PoV (Honorable Mention)

No, Venli is here, he thought. There were two of them. He’d never particularly liked Venli, but at least he wasn’t the sole listener. It made him wonder. Should they… try to rebuild? The idea nauseated him for multiple reasons. For one, the times he’d tried mateform himself, things hadn’t gone the way he -or anyone really- had expected. 

Chapter 111 - Rlain PoV

Keep fighting, a voice said in his head. Salvation will be, Rlain, listener. Bridger of Minds. I have been sent to you by my mother, at the request of Renarin, Son of Thorns. I have watched you and seen your worthiness. 

Chapter 114 - Rlain PoV

Renarin knows? Rlain thought

He suggested you, Tumi said. And told our mother about you. He was right. Our bond will be strong, and you will be wondrous. We are awed by you, Rlain.  The Bridger of Minds. We are honored. 

-

Rlain had established that he needed to stay, at least until Renarin returned. 

#rlain #renarin kholin #rlainarin #stormlight archive #oathbringer #rhythm of war #my post

[mac-cheez]

My Guide to Surviving the Waynes

This has been sitting in my drafts for a while and I finally finished the ending!! Don't expect an update soon I have no idea when the fancy will strike again and the TMA brain rot is real rn.

Pt. 1 Pt. 2

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

Dear Diary,

I was wrong. SO WRONG. You’d think rich people, especially adopted rich people, would be at least a little sane, but no, they’re not and I have no idea how to deal. It’s only been a couple days since my last entry and so much has happened. So here’s what I’ve learned:

Let’s start with the first incident that happened roughly 10 min after my last entry. I had just finished when Tim offered to meet me in the coffee shop outside of the library (he was picking me up from campus)(Alfred was busy). When I walked in I saw him about to order and walked to the side to wait. He looked at the menu for roughly 0.2 sec before looking the barista dead in the eye saying “I’ll have a Vanilla Cold Brew with seven shots of espresso.”

The barista laughed and joked “Damn you want some cocaine with that?” Then he just said, “Sure that too.” and fucking walked away? He didn’t even give his name he just paid and went straight to the pickup area. The most concerning part of that story is that they fucking did it! And he drank the whole goddamn thing without batting an eye! I was highly concerned for his well-being the entire drive home. (I really need to talk to Mr. Wayne about a rental)

What’s even weirder is when we walked into the manor Dick was just hanging from the chandelier. It was sans rope and more acrobatic, but still concerning considering how tall the ceiling was. I’m still not entirely sure how he got up there, but I just walked away hoping to find my sanity once again.

The rest of the day went relatively smoothly with the normal amount of yelling and death threats (still can’t believe this is reality). The next day something actually nice happened while I was off from college and heading to the kitchen for lunch. It was a Friday so most of the house was either at work or school, and it was pretty quiet (thank god). When I walked in one of the others was in there cooking already (Jason I think?). I decided on a sandwich since he was currently using the stove and it was going smoothly till I got to the pickle jar. For whatever reason that thing was tight as hell and was going nowhere. He looked at me and after my fifth try (and many curse words) he held out his hand. I handed the jar to him, and he opened it without trouble.

“I loosened it,” I said trying to hide my embarrassment.

“Uh-huh,” he said distractedly. We sat in awkward silence till I noticed one of the books from the library on the counter. It was Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Sign Of The Four. I asked if he was reading it and he said yes. I asked him if he’s gotten to the twist yet and he looked at me puzzled.

“You’ve read The Sign Of The Four?”

“Yeah, not my favorite Sherlock Holmes Novel, but still good nonetheless,” I said not paying attention, “Are you reading unabridged or abridged?”

“Unabridged,” he said, “you into the classics?”

“Totally, I love a good Victorian mystery or gothic horror novel,” I replied.

“You?” I asked.

“More of a Jane Austen fan myself, but I can respect those choices,” he said thoughtfully.

“I’ve never read her works, but if I have a chance I wouldn’t mind trying,” I said. He looked up at me somewhere between excitement and bewilderment.

“Would you like some recommendations?” He said cautiously. I said sure, and he immediately went into a long speech about Jane Austen and her novels. By the time he was done my sandwich and his ramen were long gone. By the end, I had a list of books to read and a new reading buddy to rant about books to. We’ve hung out intermittently since then, and honestly, it was the sanest thing I did all week. However the sanity didn’t last long.

Many other incidents (too many to write) all culminated in this afternoon, when I finally caved and decided if this was my life, it might as well be documented for (at the very least) the enjoyment of others. It was fairly quiet (first clue) and my morning class had been canceled so I was just sitting in the living room doing some work. Everyone else was out and I was about to leave for my 2:30 class when suddenly someone smashed through the window and a smoke bomb was thrown. I honestly thought it was Tim or Jason being weird again, but then the smoke cleared and there was just a bunch of dudes in Green suits with question marks. They looked around and saw me pretty quickly and immediately pointed whatever weapons they had at me. Eventually, some other ones came in the room and said the house was empty and “Wayne is nowhere to be found.” They started arguing till they finally concluded that if none of the Wayne’s were here, I must be the next best thing. Honestly, I can’t even blame them, and at this point I just let it happen.

They put a bag over my head and put me over the strongest one’s shoulder. I was in a car for about an hour before I was potato sack’d again. Once I was placed down, the bag was taken off my head, and I saw that I was in an abandoned-looking warehouse. I saw some more of the brightly clothed men off to the side arguing, one looking even more ridiculous than the others. The extra ridiculous one finally gave up talking to the others(henchmen maybe?) and walked (more like strutted) over to address me.

“Hello guest of Wayne, may I ask your name?” He asked rhyming for some weird ass reason.

“Vic?”

“Ah yes but what is it’s whole, for a half shall not know?” He said lilting his voice… ‘whimsically’?

“What?”

“Your designation that all might know.”

I just continued looking at him with apparent confusion not knowing what the hell is going on. After a minute he hung his head and spoke normally.

“What is your full name?” He sighed.

“Oh! Victoria Blanc,” I said.

“Ah! And what is your relation to the name of Wayne?” He said trying again with the talking in circles bull.

“Look dude usually I could appreciate….. Whatever it is that's happening, but I’ve had one hell of a week so…….”

“Oh come now it couldn’t have been that bad.” He said dismissively.

“Alright bet! You might wanna sit down this is gonna take a minute.”

Once he sat I started explaining everything that had happened since I’d moved to Gotham. As I was explaining more and more of the “henchmen” started joining the crowd.

“He chased him through the manor with a sword?” Riddler asked (at least that's what one of the others called him).

“Yeah, and apparently this is a normal phenomenon,” I said exasperated.

“And here I thought I was crazy.”

“Oh, no this is probably the most sane thing that's happened to me all week,” I said hand waving (They untied me after a while)(I asked nicely).

I was about to continue when suddenly three figures jumped down and got into fighting positions.

“Let her go Riddler!” Said the one in Black and blue(and maybe a bird?)

“Oh, she was free to leave a while ago.” He said casually to the masked people.

“What?” said the one in red.

“Yeah, we even offered to get her away from that mad house,” said Bob.

“Mad House?”

“Yes, it's almost criminal how they act in that house, you bats should really get on that,” ‘Riddler’ said chidingly. 

I didn't really understand why he called them bats since they all looked bird-themed but I didn't bring it up because honestly, weirder things have happened at this point. They agreed to look into it, albeit very confused(and almost offended), and said they still needed to take me back.

“Fine,” ‘Riddler’ sighed heavily, “ but Vic, sweetie, if you need somewhere safe to stay in Gotham I have plenty of friends who will keep you safe while you finish your degree.”

“Yeah, kinda tempting, but I don't think my parents would like that very much, and they are paying for it so…….”

“Very well, offer stands in perpetuity, to Arkham yes?”

“You're not gonna ask a riddle or…..” said the one in red and black.

“Usually I would but honestly I’m far too concerned right now to care.”

After that, they handcuffed him and the other goons (kinda unfair but i guess they did kidnap me) and walked me out to one of the police cars so I could go back to the manor. They offered to drive me but I've seen enough motorcycle crash scene pictures to put the fear of God (thy name is friction) in me. When I got back Mr. Wayne was in the foyer with Alfred and immediately came over to make sure I was ok.

“Yeah, I'm fine Mr. Wayne, honestly I’m more worried about the class I missed than the kidnapping,” I explained.

He seemed concerned by that but had a phone call right after that he needed to take. Alfred walked me to my room (I think to make sure I wasn't concussed) and I just kinda went back to writing and here we are. Can't wait to see what fresh hell awaits me in the coming week……….. Maybe I should've taken Riddler up on that offer.

#My Guide to Surviving the Waynes #batman #ao3 fanfic #my posts #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayson #nightwing #red robin #dc comics #fanfic #alfred pennyworth #dc riddler #edward nygma

[beebopboom]

Always an Angel, Never a Man

Intro post - where we discussed some more Wizard of Oz parallels and some of the title sequence

Now though we are going to dive deeper in the character that is the Metatron, and for that we are going to be going into The Book of Enoch and who he is as an angel - at least for this part

Background info

I've said this before but I’ll reiterate here - yes I know that Neil has said…somewhere that the Metatron has always been an angel in reference to someone asking about Enoch - but I don't think we can throw all the books away especially when it seems ideas have been pulled from them.

This actually started out as a question of whether or not the Metatron had come down to Earth and paraded around as Enoch to further his agenda - and well, it was a start.

So for the most part there seems to be two explanations for the origins of the Metatron - one: he was always an angel - two: he was the human, Enoch who was then turned into the Metatron. Each of these versions vary from religion to religion but for the most part that’s the gist of it

ha yeah right you know me time for probably unnecessary long explanations to the best of my ability

Disclaimer (I guess): These explanations are not going to stick to just one religion and are going to be summaries to the best of my ability - summaries are the devil how tf do people do this all the time

Also this is quite long - it took me about ten minutes to read through

The Metatron

The Voice of God, King of Angels, Prince of Divine Presence, Prince of the World, Prince of the Countenance, lesser YHWH, Angel of the Veil

Just some of the titles that have been attributed to the archangel known as Metatron - the list could go on

Created before or along side fellow archangels - including Michael, Gabriel, Raphael, and Uriel - he is considered to be above them and the one they defer to. He sits at the hand of God as their scribe and is one of the few angels able to see beyond the veil God sits behind, able to look upon and hear God. He is said to have immense Power and Wisdom

His main job is to write down the good deeds of both Heaven and the Earth and record those in the Book of Life. He is said to have connections to both the Tree of Knowledge and the Tree of Life therefore having a special interface between the two realms, physical and celestial - he is a bridge between God and humanity. He is a patron angel of children, giving them the knowledge they had not received and can be said to have been the angel who led the people of Israel through the wilderness. He is in charge of guiding the souls ascending to Heaven.

He is often attributed to roles God, Jesus, and even the Archangel Michael has had - to the point where there is a story of Rabbi Elisha calling out that there were two powers in Heaven and the Metatron is punished by 60 fiery lashes and unable to sit in Gods presence again for not correcting the assumption

Which leads us to the other origin story for him and that is-

Enoch

Now he has one mention in the Bible in the book of Genesis and it is only to say he no longer walks among men because God took him. This then spawned the Book of Enoch - which is really three books. Among other stories that I will get into later - it is the story of a man that was so righteous God took him so he didn’t experience death and made him an angel with all the same roles as we just went over.

This book covers things such as the concepts of fallen angels, a Messiah, Resurrection, the Final Judgement, and a heavenly kingdom on earth

………we aren't going to talk about the Nephilim

But there are these angels called the Watchers who have banded together and turned away from God. Enoch is shown the destruction and knowledge these angels have put upon humanity and shown the four archangels and their task to go about fixing the Earth. Enoch is then tasked with telling the Watchers that they shall have no peace or forgiveness for sin. He then goes on to see the universe - the Earth, the cosmos, and both Heaven and Hell - guided by angels. He sees the fiery pit that is where the Fallen are held and the river where all the dead souls await Judgement. He is shown the cornerstone of Earth and the pillars(mountains) of Heaven, and on the highest one sits the throne of God. He is told the secrets of the stars and is shown the hierarchy of Angels. 

He goes on a few journeys through the Heavens and eventually turned into the angel Metatron - which some would say this is a reversal of the Fall of Man, where Enoch is given that “spark" back. Upon reaching the 6th sphere of Heaven the angels call out to God asking why he has been brought to Heaven and God answered that he was righteous and worth the rest of the people - this is placed in flood times I forgot to mention

But why is any of this important? Well we are working with around 10 minutes of screentime people - crumbs I tell you, crumbs.

What really got this going though was Metatron saying this when referring to his outfit and corporation

"This calls for much less attention, though”

This implies the Metatron knows how to blend in - with humans and angels……and demons

But particularly with humans - further proven with the line

"I've ingested things in my time, you know”

Whether or not this is true he is really pushing this in front of Aziraphale and Crowley - clothes and food wonder why - it’s almost like it’s reminiscent of another conversation, one between Aziraphale and Gabriel back in season one at the Sushi restaurant.

Anyway though - the Metatron may not have had the transformation from Enoch but the story is still relevant to who he is as a character - it’s actually a great combination of the two

In season one he only appears as a floating head but I want to start with right before he appears

Four lights come down and four pointed stars start to appear

The thing is I think these are meant to represent our archangel council

The number four and its connection to the Metatron has been sitting in the back of my head for a while now - it's a common grouping in good omens with the horsepeople, the them, the angels, and the demons - but I think it's also a call back to Enoch and the four archangels that guided him, here me out - I mean it’s four colored lights surrounded by stars cmon

The only one missing is Raphael. In season one he is replaced with Sandalphon - who has a special connection to the Metatron with a similar origin story as Enoch and is said to be his twin brother. In season two he is replaced with Saraqael who is also mentioned in the Book of Enoch, one of the only places to do so.

This council though is the last stop before reaching the Metatron - so they have to come first. Four angels at the trial and four (active) angels when he appears in the bookshop. Sensing a theme of needing four angels.

Aziraphale then asks if he is God which is quickly corrected by the Metatron saying he is only the voice and to speak to him is to speak to God which then Aziraphale calls him a presidential spokesperson - and yeah that all tracks for what we know to be his role, just no mention of the other things he is in charge of

Which let’s take a quick break to point out that the Metatron is supposed to guide souls into Heaven - Heaven is very much empty, where are you taking them our dark clothed angel hmmm?

Season two though we really get a look into his character

In the trial we get to see a bunch of floating heads and yet his is still different, as he has no body. He is still concealed with no corporation - behind that curtain

Now we have two instances of this both in Heaven and Earth - not something we see with anyone else who all have a corporation to move about - besides when Aziraphale gets discorporated but even then he is still shown with his whole see-through body. So here is that special interface playing out - his way of showing his position off and maintaining an air of mystery

An interesting thing to note during his speech is him saying that for one prince of heaven to be cast down to hell makes for a good story - in the habit of telling stories about fallen angels there Metatron?

Now we’ve analyzed the coffee shop scene to death and I don’t particularly have anything to add so we are just going to keep truckin

But the bookshop - the bookshop tells us so much.

He walks in and hardly anyone recognizes him - only Crowley and Saraqael. And this makes sense, he’s in a corporal form - out from behind the curtain. The thing that made him special, that put him above other archangels - he’s removed it. They’ve probably never felt his full essence and it’s not like it’s going to set off alarm bells when they are the same rank as you, essentially. Then Crowley describes him in terms he knew Aziraphale (and others) would recognize - finally cluing everyone in 

But why Crowley and Saraqael? What makes them special?

I’ll admit I don’t have a clear answer for Saraqael - for why they are different. Only a theory that they are one of the angels that he has keeping an eye on the angelic deeds he was told to keep track of - perhaps even the corporations that are being used, when one is needed and whatnot

Crowley though is a Fallen Angel - the series goes through great lengths to stress this point - this term. You may remember that this is the term used in Enoch to describe the Watchers. The group of angels that turned away from God and Enoch then had to inform them of their fate.

It’s been sprinkled in throughout the series that Crowley only ever asked those “damn fool” questions and went his “own way” with hints that those questions were never asked to God. Which leaves the Metatron. The Metatron who Crowley has seen.

"Oh I know you. Last time I saw you, you were a big, floating giant head, mind.”

The last time implying there was a Before - before the beginning perhaps.

So let’s say God gives this criteria of what qualifies as a rebelling angel which then the Metatron is supposed to carry out the acts of punishment - except he’s an angelic scribe not a fighter so he gives this confrontation job to fellow archangels, let’s say Michael, and tells them this what God told them to do, while he works on the way to make it actually stick - through the Book of Life and finally activating the threat of this book by crossing the angels out causing them to lose their names, their status, their place in paradise

and then comes in this pretty high ranking angel, a prince perhaps, asking these questions that just happen to fit into this criteria but different in the way that they don’t want it all to end and you still turn him away

(I’m probably going to do a whole other thing about the connection between Crowley and the Metatron but for the sake of not derailing this post even more I’m just going to move on)

The Book of Life - The Metatron is said to be the angel that writes in it - records all the names of the beings doing good deeds in both Heaven and Earth. He hears all, sees all, and he’s going through past exploits. And yet has only just recently made a move - he truly is a King

He immediately calls Michael out for their “you’ll be erased from existence” spew saying they don’t have the authority for that and sending them away - implying he does have the authority and he’s here to offer a way for that not to happen**

And here on out we get to see some interesting characteristics. The Metatron has always been one to offer shallow praise - even back in season one - and he is shown to be openly revered and feared. He has this all seeing - big brother affect on all the angels. He is said to see everything it’s only a matter of what and when he chooses to use it. And use it well he does - he’s manipulative with praise and interest, with the knowledge he reveals. He is also in the nature to wind them up and watch them go. I’d say this is a twisted take on the Patron Angel of Children. 

So when you take out the parts of those two versions of Metatron’s backstory that we know are not canon to Good Omens and mush it all together - this could be a narrative that comes out

But I want to take a quick dip back into his clothes before rounding this off. He is dressed in darker colors, usually associated with demons, there is just no way to ignore this. An angel with duality written into their clothes - An angel that can go into Hell - An angel that is supposed to guide souls to Heaven and yet there are none but there is an overflow in Hell - An angel that created the back channels.

Now hear me out - I know we are heading into a crack theory area.

Back in season one when Michael brings forward the pictures of Aziraphale and Crowley they say they got them from the Earth observational files - something that the Metatron would be in charge of as the angel tasked with the Book of Life - and ask Gabriel to use the back channels already knowing they were going to.

Michael is the only angel we really see have any connection to these back channels, through the phone and actually going down to Hell. Michael is also very quick to take up the Supreme Archangel spot without explicit permission, a role apparently the Metatron is able to assign. It almost like the Metatron has given them special permission before….

Why would Metatron have use for those back channels though? Well gotta put those human souls somewhere, not that he particularly wants to deal the predictable and dim humans - and why not make sure all plans are running smoothly for the inevitable next War.

There is also this concept called the Humbling of the Metatron - has it already happened or is that where we are heading? All I know is we have a lying***, manipulative, exploitative Angel on our hands

and I truly think that he has made his moves and revealed his cards - it’s only putting it all together

**I really don’t think the Metatron has access to this book like he is foretold to have, like he acts like he does - at least not anymore

***When he orders the coffee he asks for a dash of almond syrup but when telling Aziraphale he says a hefty jiggle - such a weird thing to lie about there Metatron

————————————————————————

This series is mainly just going to be exploring the character that is The Metatron with pretty much every route possible. I’m not trying to say which is the correct conclusion because this character could really go in any direction. This is just for fun. I tired to get all the religious stuff as correct as possible but there is always the room for error, things I’ve missed, etc

but anyway for the next part we are going to dive into another big influence over our series and characters, as Crowley calls them - Occult Forces.

part 2 is out!!

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #good omens character analysis #good omens analysis #good omens theory #the metatron #aziraphale #crowley #archangel michael #archangel uriel #good omens saraqael #good omens metatron #metatron

[drconstellation]

More Half-and-Half-A-Miracle Thoughts

Part 1: Miracle Power Ranking

Part 2: The Dark side of Aziraphale is here. Part 3: The Third Archangel

I was originally going to add some comments as a reblog to @nofomogirl's post on why the 25 Lazurii miracle was so powerful, but the initial thought I had on the matter slipped away from me during that day, and I was left looking at a glimpse at the viridian green back panel of Aziraphale's waistcoat and wondering what had sparked my original thought, and any attempt to try and grasp it again was a futile as Muriel trying to open Gabriel's file in Heaven.

So I wandered off on other tangents, explored other topics I was curious about, and enjoyed reading the new posts that went up, but the ghost of that viridian green panel kept lurking about with a sharp stick to remind me it was there. So I'm here to post some more thoughts in addition to the op's post that I feel might add to the discussion about the little miracle that worked too well.

I also want to say before I get stuck in (and warning - this is going to be a long one!) that I think no matter how much we discuss this or dig at it, ultimately we just don't have enough information to have a definitive answer as to the why at the moment, and, we may never know. But I'm going to speak because I think I there is at least one thing I haven't seen discussed yet in context with this scene, and should be (at least, I haven't seen it yet - if you have, please let me know.)

So if you're in a TL:DR mode and don't want to open links, here is the list of current theories of why two little "half miracles" made one mighty one:

Theory#1: It's love

Theory #2: It's them

Theory#3: It's a fusion

Theory #4: It's Gabriel

Theory #5: It's the portal (that they did it on top of)

To preface my answering ramble the TL:DR again is - its a fusion of "them" i.e. both #2 and #3 together. As in Aziraphale x Gabriel x Crowley. 3x3x3

Hang on, that's 27! Not 25! yeah, yeah, I'm not that bad at math. And I'll admit it doesn't fit - it doesn't "snap" into place. But its either that or 5x5 and I wanted to consider all three elements in this miracle working together for the discussion at the start. And there seems to an emphasis on 3's as well as 7's (Maybe you can cut the middle out at the end, once you can see the bigger picture I'm trying to present, but lets leave it this way for now. Maybe it will give you another idea...)

Firstly, consider the three elements, working in synergy. The whole is greater than the sum of its parts. As Crowley describes it in S2E6: " Apparently, if we do a miracle together, it all works a bit too well." (I was originally thinking of the word "gestalt" but on reflection its probably not the right one.)

"...if we..."

Let's ask who is "we" at this point, and how much miracle power they are contributing to the miracle. Are they contributing equally? Yes? Or no? I want to take a closer look at miracle power: the knowns, the unknowns and the possibilities to explore that.

We've already been told that most day-to-day miracles are down in the mili-Lazurii level, a mere few thousandth of the power of the hiding miracle. And this makes sense - we don't see our protagonists bringing the dead back to life willy-nilly. Aziraphale mentions getting into trouble for doing "too many frivolous miracles." But if its one thing Good Omens stands out for its the conspicuous lack of displays of stupendous power. And this actually doesn't help our understanding of the problem.

Indulge me in a "ranking of power" exercise, if you will.

At the top we have the big three - no, four - er, lets make that five actually! Five ineffably, unarguably, omnipotent entities that every one respects and no one will mess with. They can essentially do what ever they will.

God, and Her (ex-) bestie, Satan.

Azrael, the angel of Death.

Adam Young, the Antichrist, who has retained his powers and is still protecting Tadfield.

And lastly the yet-to be revealed second coming of Jesus Christ.

Lets put them all aside and out of the equation.

Next, we have the Metatron, whom we haven't seen lift a finger, only his voice, yet the mere sight of his face evokes fear. How much miracle power can he wield? That's a big unknown, unfortunately. But being the current right-hand being of the Almighty must give him some serious grunt.

The top brass of the respective bureaucracies starts to raise questions. We have our senior Archangels (the seraphim) and the Dukes of Hell. I have no doubt that Gabriel, as Supreme Archangel of all Heaven, should be capable of performing at least a 1 Lazurii miracle on his own if required, and he could even have the potential to stretch to 25 Lazurii...if he could be bothered.

We know that they can be promoted in an out of those positions, and that raises questions about what happens to their powers when they get promoted or demoted. To gain power when promoted? Or lose it when demoted? Or is it a simply a matter of belief? In which case it might rely on the individual's personality.

When looking for examples of expressed power, in both the book and tv series, it is easier to come up with examples of demonic miracles than angelic miracles, and it makes things look a bit biased, imo. I mean, Crowley aside for the moment (I'll get back to him shortly) you have to be impressed with Hastur's escape from the ansaphone into the call center and manifesting into the mass of maggots, for all he was a bit old fashioned and smelled like poo. Shax playing games with Crowley just outside the shop in S2, manifesting as different characters in rapid succession has to be up there with another good demo of demon power (which it certainly worked to needle Crowley into losing his temper with them.)

What do we see the Archangels do in comparison? Hmm. Bitch and snitch. Gossip with Hell on the back stairs. Pretend to be buying pornography from Aziraphale. Then physically punch our angel in guts for fraternizing with a demon before disappearing back to Heaven . Not much.

OK, so Gabriel arrives on a lightning bolt at Tadfield airbase

and there is that intriguing discussion with Sandalphon regarding Sodom and Gomorrah (just read above the cut, that's the important bit for this meta later on) where he was doing quite a bit of smiting, but its all off screen and in the distant past, we don't actually see them in action.

Which brings us back to Crowley and Aziraphale. And then more Aziraphale manipulating Crowley into performing miracles for him so he doesn't have to (the little minx.) The list of miracles I can think of that we have seen Crowley do is far longer and seems more impressive than what Aziraphale has done. Oh, but there is the Eldritch Ball, you say? Controlling multiple people at once? (Hold that thought.) He also sent the soldier at the entry gate of the Tadfield airbase all the way back to his home in the USA in an instant (according to the book) and he flew the moped with both Madame Tracey and Shadwell over the top of the Odegra ring of demon fire to get to Tadfield (again, as mentioned in the book.) And as the op back here says, why didn't they just manifest themselves out? Idiots...

On to Part 2: The Dark Side of Aziraphale.

#good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #good omens meta #gabriel #25 lazurii #miracle power #shax #the metatron #Azrael #tadfield #hastur #sandalphon #sodom and gomorrah