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cameronspecial · 6 months

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Hi, so I have a scenario in mind; where Zach loses his memories and instead of fixating on a relationship, he can't even remember having, he instead finds himself falling for his best friend, and conveniently, the only person he does remember. And it's just Y/n trying to convince him of all the good times he and his girlfriend had (because she's a "good friend that wants him to be happy even if it's not with her") but he couldn't care less, because none of the superficial shit she tells him, compares to the memories he has of her.

She'd be like, "Oh, you two are so cute, omg 🙄 you take walks together, you eat together, everyone thinks you look cute together. Blah blah blah..."

And he's basically like, "and what? A dog and his owner could do that. But us? That's the real shit, baby." Sorry, this got long xx

That Shit Has Nothing On Us

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.5K

Masterlist

When Zach got hit by the car, the only person he could remember was Y/N. Even though they were best friends and attached by the hip before the accident, he, now, clings to her like Winnie the Pooh to a honey pot and not in the same way he did before he got hit. He becomes more affectionate and touchy. He always wants to have skin-to-skin contact with her in some way. He always wants to be around her. She’s tried to tell him that he has Zoey Wallace. That she is his girlfriend, he just doesn’t care. Sure, she has had a crush on them since they were five, but she knows he is Zoey’s and she doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize his relationship.

They are watching the Scream franchise and he knows they don’t scare her, yet he insists on wrapping his arm around her. “I don’t know why you wanted to have a marathon. They aren’t scary and are so predictable,” she complains, groaning at the not-surprising death of another character. Zach shrugs, “Come on. Don’t tell me you aren’t a little scared.” His arm brings her closer to his side. “Zach, they literally do the oh no the killer isn’t actually killed bit in every movie,” she points out. He grins at her, “Well, if you don’t want to watch the movies, then we can always make out.” “You have a girlfriend, Zach. You guys used to be so in love. You would go on walks to practice together. Kick the ball around. Eat with each other,” she argues, moving out of his hold. He gets up and looks into her eyes, “Everything I’ve done and talked about with her is all surface-level shit. It’s like I’m a dog and she’s my owner. But us? That’s the real shit, Baby. Everything I remember about us has always been so much deeper than anything I have with her.” “You can’t compare the present with the past. You just don’t know the deeper stuff you’ve had with her,” Y/N disagrees with a shake of her head.

“I’m comparing the present with the present Y/N. She’s always on the move with life and stuff and never takes the time to just stop. She never lets us get to know each other again.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Zach?”

“I want you to say that you’ll let me kiss you.”

“You have a girlfriend.”

“Not anymore.”

Y/N freezes at his words. “W-what? What do you mean you not anymore?” He gives her a smile, “We broke up. I didn’t feel it was right to keep dating her when I’m in love with you.” “Y-you’re in love with me?” she asks with hope in her eyes. He steps closer to her, “Since we were five years old.” Her arms wrap around his neck and their lips meet in a fiery kiss. Who knew amnesia could be the start of a beautiful thing?

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

#the other zoey #zach maclaren #zach maclaren x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfiction

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lethalchiralium · 1 year

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A Little More | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

a/n: hiiiii! uh so this is connected to tonight, tonight, tonight and dear winter, and this was sort of inspired by never grow up by taylor swift. 🤍 also, the constant support really makes me want to just write domestic simon. like, a lot. it’s great.

warnings: mentions of nationality (americans do suck but you’re great!), babies, children… arguing

summary: It’s Simon’s first late night and morning with his new daughter, Mellie. And you and him have an important conversation.

REMINDER: This is a side-blog, not my main! If you have any questions, feel free to message this blog or reblog! Reblogs are always appreciated - as well as any comments, they keep me motivated to write stuff like this!

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When the baby monitor began to sound with cries of his new daughter, Simon had woken up. He rubbed his eye with one of his hands while the other reached for the monitor on his nightstand. He had moved it from yours last night after you had fallen asleep.

He turned it down so you could barely even hear it and settled the monitor back on his nightstand - he silently sat up. He blinked away what little sleep he got and pulled off the warm comforter, standing up. He turned back and looked at you, a pang of guilt ran through his chest before he pulled the comforter back into place. You had fallen asleep on his chest, and now you were curled into a ball in the middle of the mattress, facing his side. He wanted to lean down and kiss your cheek, but his baby was crying.

He made his way out of the bedroom and down the hall, passing his office and Winnie’s room to the room closest to the staircase. He could clearly hear Mellie crying now, so he quietly opened the door. He walked over to the white crib and gazed at her. Her little eyes were screwed shut and her cries broke his cold heart before he gently picked up his new daughter, placing her against his bare chest. One hand held her head and the other held her back, he was still amazed at how big he was compared to this little creature.

“Hello, my little love.” He whispered as he leaned down and kissed her little head, smelling the soap you had washed her with earlier. He checked the little one’s nappy, seeing that she didn’t need changed. He moved across the room to the comfy rocking chair you had gotten and settled on it, Mellie’s cries had gotten softer as he began to gently rock. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for ya to know me before you were born. Sorry I wasn’t here when you were born, someone’s gotta pay the bills.” He chuckled lightly, still gazing down at the baby with short hair that looks just like yours. If he gazed at her face a little more, he would’ve noticed that his daughter had his eyes, his ears. He would learn days later that she had his smile.

His thumb drew circles on the crown of the baby’s head and her cries mellowed out to little mewls, her cheek rested on his collarbone.

“You’re going to grow up strong like me ‘n amazing like your mum,” He promised her, kissing her head again. “You’re going to love your sister, even though sometimes you’ll fight with her. Hell, I know you’ll fight with me one day.”

The baby cooed in response, as if she was listening.

“Always love your mum,” He whispered, head then leaning back to stare at the door. “You don’t have to love me, Melody. But it’ll be a cold day in Hell if I ever stop loving you. And you have to love your sister, I know that she probably loves you more than she does me now.” He chuckled a little, gently patting Mellie’s back before continuing. “You’re going to be as smart ‘n as beautiful as your mum, as careful as me. And you’ll love all your uncles, Price the most since Winnie does.“ He closed his eyes then, using his right leg to gently rock the chair. “You’ll be loved, no matter what. And I can’t wait to watch you grow, my little love.”

Mellie’s cries had finally stopped, all of her little sounds had as well - he could feel her tiny breath against his skin while he kept rocking the chair, feeling slumber tug at his head.

“You’ll be my little girl forever, no matter if we drift apart. I will always protect you, never let anyone hurt you. All I want is for you to never grow up.” His hands stopped moving, still keeping his child against him while he murmured, “I want you to stay little forever, I can’t stand watching my Winnie grow. You’ll always be my baby, Mellie. And I love you.” Simon leaned down and kissed her head again, he reclined back on the chair. He gazed at the ceiling, seeing her little mobile with stars and ducks on it.

He patted Mellie’s back with a soft accuracy, closing his eyes and reveling in the feeling of his daughter on his chest.

•••

He woke up in the late morning, feeling a much heavier weight on his chest. He opened his eyes, looking down and seeing Winnie curled into his chest, Mellie snuggled into his neck with his arm underneath her bottom. He looked up, seeing his wife folding clothes on the floor. He pushed on his right foot, gently rocking and catching your attention. You looked up at your husband as you finished folding his shirt, a smile on your face. His other arm went around Winnie’s back, she snuggled into his chest even more. You stood up from where you were, opening your phone and showing him a picture you had taken two hours before - Winnie looking up at him with a smile, then one of her curled into his chest like she was now. His hand absentmindedly pet his oldest daughter’s hair that matched his, a grin on his face. He looked back to you, whispering, “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You whispered back, sliding your phone in your sweatpants pocket. You leaned forward and kissed him, then kissed his cheek. “Go back to sleep.”

“She’ll probably need to be fed.” He nodded down to the baby.

“Just did. She just fell back asleep.” You mumbled, your hand gently rubbed Winnie’s arm. “Winnie’s had breakfast too. You need to rest.”

“So do you.” He answered, eyes meeting yours but you shrugged.

“This is the longest either have slept in a while, so I’m going to get some things done.” You turned back to the laundry, stepping over the four folded stacks and sitting back down next to the basket. “Then, I will go take a nap, okay?”

He nodded, eyes fluttered closed again as he leaned back, still gently rocking the chair with his foot. He sat there for another twenty minutes, listening to you fold clothes and hum a familiar song.

“Thank you.” He spoke into the room, hearing the baby’s soft breathing near his ear and as Winnie moved a little.

You stopped folding clothes, that he knew for sure because there was no more humming. “For what?”

“For this.” He answered, opening his eyes and jutting his chin to Mellie then Winnie. “Couldn’t’ve asked for someone better.”

You smiled at him, setting your hands on a stack of his shirts before swiping at your eye. You patted his stack of clothes, you still had a bit left to go but you didn’t care - you got to your feet and walked over to him. Your hands were gentle when you picked up Winnie, letting her curl her arms around your neck as he stared at you. You jutted your head towards the door of the nursery. “Come on, nap time.”

He instantly slowly rose from the rocking chair, hearing it rock back and forth behind him as he kept the two month old against his collarbone. She didn’t make a sound. He followed you as you effortlessly carried Winnie, who was out like a light, down to your shared bedroom. It made the heaviness of his long and strenuous deployment begin to thaw from his stomach and shoulders - he followed you as you pulled back the duvet with one hand, settling the four year old in the middle of the bed before climbing in. He moved to the other side, lowering himself back into his bed.

He checked the baby again, still seeing that she was asleep. You moved to your side, looking at him as Winnie snuggled into your chest. He settled Mellie onto her back right next to his own chest as he tugged the duvet to just below Winnie’s head, your waist, and Mellie’s onesied feet. His head settled on his pillow as yours did, his hand came up and brushed some hair around your ear. The two of you sort of made a cocoon, legs tangled together and facing each other as your hand rubbed the belly of the small baby - your bodies shielding your children from the outside world.

“I’m sorry.” Simon spoke softly, his hand was removed from your head and settled on the duvet. Your eyes met his, only a few faded streaks of eye paint on his lash lines remained.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” You murmured, your hand then moved from Mellie to Winnie, gently petting her head.

“I left you here alone.” You had to endure this alone. Had to give birth alone, without support of your husband - had to raise both of his children alone, with no outside help for thousands of miles. His eyes stared at yours, even if you gazed down at your daughters. “I chose to take that deployment.”

“And you said it would only be three months.” You whispered.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, wanting nothing more to pull you to his chest and press his words into your skin like tattoos - words of praise, of trust, love.

There was a moment of silence before Simon spoke again.

“I want to slow down.” His voice sort of trembled, his hand coming to rest on Winnie’s head too - settling on top of yours. “I can’t let you think that I don’t support you.”

“Simon…”

He continued. “I want to only do one deployment a year, so that way you will never have to do this-“ He nodded to the children between their chests. “Without my support and without me.”

“You can’t just give up your life for us.” Your thumb drew small circles in Winnie’s hair. “I can’t let our family be what takes you away from what you want to do with your life.”

“I never wanted to be in the military after Winnie was born. Almost quit then.” He spoke then, not whispering anymore. “Almost did it again when we got married.” His eyes moved to look at your diamond ring, how it still glimmered in the dim sunlight that hazed through the room. “I could die the day I get deployed next. I will do whatever it takes to make sure I come home.”

“Simon, is this what you wanted to do for the rest of your life? Be a soldier?”

Simon only stared.

You sighed. “One less deployment would be nice, and with the long ones like this, you’ll need to give me warning so I don’t stay up every night waiting for you.” You took a deep breath, meeting his eyes. “Your friends are counting on you, I think we both know that your job is not done yet.”

Sometimes he was amazed at how intuitive you were - you knew exactly how he felt within a moment. He sort of grunted before running a hand down his maskless face. “You’re my wife, you come first.”

“Your family comes first, and that includes 141. I won’t have it any other way.” You concluded, voice sharp and definitive. Your hand went to rest on his cheek and he let you, let your thumb trace lines under his eye. “You can’t give up on what you believe in for me.”

“But you have given up a lot for me.” He whispered, his hand settled on yours. “You should’ve gone back home, had the support you needed - but you stayed in a place where you have no friends or family. You raised my children alone, you gave up your life back home to raise my child. This- My solitude is no place for…us.”

“I didn’t give anything up that easily, Simon.” Your tone was defensive, he immediately knew he crossed a line. “I never go into anything blindly. I always assess the situation and the best outcomes.” You gave him a sharp glare as you narrowed your eyes. “There’s a reason why there is another child in our bed.” Your thumb stopped moving and settled under his eye. “I wouldn’t have gone through with having her if I didn’t think I could’ve done it alone. There was no shortage of support from my family across the pond.”

“Quit sayin’ slang, you’re American.”

You smiled at that comment. “Simon, I knew you were coming home. I know that you’ll always come home to me. I mean it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Quit it. No more apologies, you didn’t know.” Your voice became small then, eyes unfocusing as you let the walls fall down. Tears pricked at your eyes. “Do I wish I could change that? Absolutely. But someone needed your help, you save thousands of people every day and I can’t let myself keep you from your duty.”

“You wouldn’t be. It’s my choice.”

“I know.”

“I can’t keep leaving this house, not knowing if I’m coming back.”

Mellie cooed then, both of you looked down and your hands separated. His hand went to gently rub her stomach, trying to coax her back to sleep.

“You’re a wonderful father.”

His hand slowed to a stop, trying to accept what you said because he sure as hell didn’t feel like it.

“You’ll always be here for them, I know that for a fact.” You continued. “Whatever you choose, that will never change. You will always love them. And I will stand by whatever decision you make.”

He just gazed at you then. His heart felt warm, he wanted to move forward and kiss you but his children were in the way - so he settled for placing his hand on the back of your jaw, splaying his fingers through your hair and above and below your ear. He cradled your face a little. “I’ll call Price tomorrow.”

You nodded, leaning into his hand and moving to kiss his palm. “Good.”

“And I want you to find a house that’s near your parents.”

You froze then, eyes wide as you whispered, “What?”

He shrugged. “In case a Mellie happens again, which I will make sure it won’t, I want you to be close to your family. I have no family to keep me here that’s not you.”

“You don’t have to uproot out life from here, Si. I’m fine here.” You muttered. “I promise.”

“Let me give something up for you, since you won’t let me give up my job.”

Your hand rested on Winnie’s head again, she was still out like a light. “Simon, I mean it. You don’t have to give anything up-“

“Stop telling me what I can or can’t give up.” His tone was a little harsh. “Just let me have the peace of knowing that you’ll be with your family if I get killed.”

You fell silent, knowing that this really came from a deep place in his heart because his eyes were screwed shut for just a moment. You gave the idea a little thought, maybe it wouldn’t be bad to stop wasting money on plane tickets and stay back home. Your little brothers love Winnie, they’ll meet and love Mellie - your parents adore them too. You had to admit, it was one of the ways he showed his love - by keeping you hidden away, yet in a safe reach.

“Let me think on it.” You answered, eyes fluttering closed as his hand slipped away.

“Sleep on it, love.” He whispered.

“I love you, Simon.”

He smiled.

“I love you too.”

———

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley cod #simon ghost riley x fem!reader #simon ghost riley call of duty #simon ghost riley x afab!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley call of duty #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon riley x afab!reader #simon riley x wife!reader #cod mw 2022 #lethal chiralium #lethalchiralium

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nuttersincorporated · 4 months

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Mickey Mouse does not need your protection

Since Mickey Mouse became public domain, I’ve seen some really wild takes and misinformation going around. Yes, Mickey Mouse is public domain. No, you do not need to protect him. It’s fine if people other than Disney make Mickey Mouse stuff, even if you don’t like the things that are made.

You are not protecting Mickey Mouse. Mickey Mouse is not real. Even if he was, you STILL wouldn’t be protecting him. You’re just sticking up for a megacorporation. Disney has more money and resources than you will ever have and they horde them. You shouldn’t be trying to help them do it.

Disney is a company that loves using public domain properties to make things. They have just tried their absolute hardest to make sure that nobody else could do the same thing. If you think Mickey Mouse should only be used by Disney, you should be upset that Disney made money off public domain stories like Snow White and Rapunzel.

What about things like Winnie the Pooh? Disney didn’t come up with him but they were happy to make money off him. They bought the rights to him and then didn’t share.

‘Ah!’ I hear you say. ‘But Winnie the Pooh actually helps prove our point! When Disney – that poor poor super rich company that should be protected – lost the exclusive rights, a Winnie the Pooh horror movie was made! That’s not in the spirit of the original character!’

Firstly, you can just ignore that movie if you want. I did. Nobody is making you watch it. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

Secondly, there are nice Winnie the Pooh stories out there that aren’t by Disney or the original author. The Pooh books by Jane Riordan are lovely. Her stories are much more in the spirit of the original character than a lot of the Disney comics were.

This is an official Disney comic with Winnie the Pooh

This is a picture from one of Jane Riordan’s Winnie the Pooh books

One of them is sweet, kind and in the spirit of the original character. The other is Disney owned and approved.

What would the original author A.A. Milne think of the different adaptions and new works? Well, we don’t know because, at the end of the month, he’ll have been dead for 68 years. However, I can quote one of the original Pooh books about sharing,

And really, it wasn’t much good having anything exciting like floods, if you couldn’t share them with somebody.

Thirdly, Disney does not respect authorial intent.

PL Travers, the author of the Mary Poppins books, did not want Disney to make a movie based on her work. She got coerced into letting them make one. She hated the movie and refused to let them make any more.

What happened after she’d died, the ban on them making more Mary Poppies movies ran out and they got their hands on the rights? They made a sequel.

I think you should be more upset that Disney went against the direct wishes of an author than the fact regular people can now use a character that megacorporation uses. PL Travers was a person. Disney is a company. There is a difference.

I love the original Mary Poppins movie. I don’t care about or like the sequel. However, PL Travers died in 1996. People should be able to use the character now, no matter how you or I feel about those newer stories. Again, you can just ignore them if you want.

The original stories are still there.

Royalties are different to public domain. The profits from PL Travers original books go to her descendants and the Cherry Tree Foundation. They will continue to go there for 80 years after her death and then the royalties will be shared out among any decedents who are alive at that time. The money from those books will continue to go there, no matter what new stories with Mary Poppins get made.

You all seem okay with Disney making money off public domain stories and buying the rights to other stories. Why can't you extend that right to other people?

No one has stolen Mickey from Disney. Disney can and will continue to make money off him. All that’s change is that other people can now do that too.

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jwcartoonist · 6 months

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As per my tradition for Mickey's birthday, it's time for another tribute to a classic Mickey appearance, and there's no one quite more classic than his first released cartoon, Steamboat Willie. Not only does this year mark the short's 95th anniversary, but also the final year the short will be under copyright protection as next year the short, and the early version Mickey himself (along with Minnie and Pete) shall become public domain.

It's not just Disney lawyers worried about this massive change, long time mouse fans are worried about this too (I mean, after what's happened with Winnie-the-Pooh recently can you really blame us?). Obviously the more modern versions of Mickey are still under protection, but that won't stop a ton of content creators from trying to use the 1928 rendition of the mouse however they can (provided they can get around any trademarks Disney has placed) to produce stuff to cash-in on the shock value of Mickey doing non-Disney-approved things (again, see what happened to Pooh Bear).

Still, in the end, Mickey will still be okay overall. Disney isn't going to abandon their most popular character and face of the entire company (despite what many click-baity articles and Tiktoks would want you to believe), and even with the high amount of cheaply produced unauthorized Mickey projects on the way, there's bound to be at least a few diamonds in the rough that wish to pay proper tribute and respect towards the character.

The future of Mickey Mouse might seem a tad uncertain at the moment, but one thing I do know for sure is that no matter what, wether it be from Disney or somewhere else, there will always be a Mickey Mouse... And that's pretty damn cool.

Happy 95th Mickey. Here's to many more.

#Mickey Mouse #steamboat willie #HappyBirthdayMickeyMouse #Disney #Fanart #art #MickeyMouse #Minnie Mouse #Pete #Peg Leg Pete

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ghouljams · 2 months

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Since your doing Fae baby asks I was wondering if you could tell us more about Witch and Prices future or potential baby/babies. Things like potential names or what parent the baby is most like. Only if you want to share of course -xoxo 💋

Oh absolutely I can give you the short list of names and some baby stuff!

Arawn (Welsh, King of the Otherworld) nicknamed Winnie

Arthur or Artos (I just love the name, another king) nicknamed Bear or cub

Dagr (sun in old norse) the nicknames they spin off this one... sunshine, sol, Solas, Apollo, Bel... they're a mess

Icarus (this one is a little joke between Witch and Price, they flew too close to the sun and the baby is their reward) more sunshine nicknames but also Russ and Russel

Merlin (Price suggests this one, Witch likes it, he goes "of course you do" and she doesn't talk to him for 24 hours) nicknamed little witch or Emry

Honestly I have more names, their little girl is the only one I have a real short list for (Odeliah or Andromeda)

Artos(for the moment) takes after Price I think, he's got his dark hair and all his fae features, but he has Witch's eyes. He's a very clever little boy and eager to help Witch with her potions, very talented with divination. I think given the choice between becoming a debt collector like Price or a witch like Witch he'd want to study magic under his mum. I see him as sort of quiet and studious, very watchful, someone who finds loopholes in rules easily. He likes the structure of witchcraft, and likely invents a lot of his own scaffolding for spells to better suit being fae.

Their little girl is the complete opposite, very adventurous and fiery, she stands up for herself without a second thought, and doesn't take being brushed off. Absolutely doesn't have the temperament for witchcraft, but does follow after Price when he does his errands. She gets Price's dark hair but all of Witch's fluff and curls, she looks like her mother but those are Price's eyes staring you down. Absolutely a winter fae compared to her brother's summer warmth. Weird little girl energy

Both kids are absolutely devastating with their magic. The hooks they get in people...

#ghoul speaks #oc talk #oc: witch #ghoul babies #baby jams

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pumpkinheadspacestation · 3 months

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The Tiniest Age Guide

This is a guide for my personal use but I'm posting it in case it could help some of you all too!

0 - 2

-Babbles

-Cries a lot

-Lots of naps

-Always wants dada

-Doesn't know what's wrong (hungry, cold, thirsty, in pain) just wants dada to fix it

-"Ddaddyyyyy" "Dadadadadaaa"

-Has accidents if not reminded to go to the potty/has very limited bladder control

-Scared easily

-Wants paci

-Always wants a baba over a sippy cup

-Will accidentally spit out paci

-Prefers to crawl and lay and roll over walking

-Rattlesss

-Diapies

-Wants cg to do diapy changes

-Mostly dependent on cg for help

-Oversized footie onesies and snappy onesies with shorts overtop, neutral colors (light browns, light yellows, whites and creams)

Shows and movies to watch

-Winnie the pooh

-Pocoyo

-Octonauts

-Backyardigans

-Berenstain bears

-Sid the science kid

-Hilda

The foods

-Doesnt want solid foods

-Apple sauce

-Yogurt

-Baby foods

-Wants to be fed by cg

The fun stuffs

-likes to cuddle lots

-watching cartoons

-likes to play stuffies

-likes to babble at you

3 - 5

-"I dood it 😠"

-More prone to temper tantrums

-"Leave me alone! 😡"

-"M sorry, dada"

-Baby voice

-Can find a way to communicate needs

-Semi-verbal

-Sweet most of the time

-Tries to be independent

-Pullups

-Does their own pullup and diapy changes mostly, but sometimes needs help

-Sippy cup over baba

-Clingy and feels bad for being clingy

-Very emotional

-Wants paci

-Likes and wants cg's help but can be mostly independent

-Oversized hoodies and shorts, likes long sockies and darker colors

-Insecure

Shows and movies to watch

-Wild Kratz

-Ruby Gloom

-A Series Of Unfortunate Events

-Kidden and Hoshi (YouTube)

-Barbie's life in the dream house

-Bee and Puppycat

-Hilda

-Cookie swirl c (YouTube)

-Most disney movies

The foods

-Puffs

-Yogurt bites

-Chips

-Pb and j

-Mac and cheese

The fun stuffs

-likes to color

-Play in the water

-Uno

-Likes to cuddle

-Likes to play with barbies

-Play pretend

6 - 9

-Likes shorts with pockets and zip up jackets, funky socks, converse

-Minecraft

-"Let's play outsiiiddeee!"

-Needs a nap by 1-2pm

-Wakes up early

-"Can you read me a story?"

-Likes hanging out with dada and sibbies equally much

-"Let's build a fort!"

-Big boy undies

-Rubber band bracelets

-Better at regulating emotions

-Usually denies being regressed

-Insecure in their regression

Shows and movies to watch

-Dantdm (youtube)

-Stampy cat (youtube)

-Cookie swirl c (youtube)

-Creeped out

-A series of unfortunate events

-Goosebumps

-The good dino

-The croods

The foods

-Dino nuggies

-Green bean casserole

-Pizza

-Pizza rolls

-Hotdogs

-Chile

-Not picky

The fun stuffs

-Watching tv

-Playing pretend

-Hide and seek

-Mafia

-Card games and board games

-Barbies

-Likes to cook together

-Video games like Minecraft and Animal Crossing

I'm gonna stop the guide here because I really haven't clocked myself and figured my regressed self out that well past 9 years old. I don't regress 9+ very often so it's hard to know what changes from my normal self and my regressed self bit either way, I hope this helps even though it's for my personal use and to help my cg/partner/caretaker person

Child safe interaction Only. I do not consent to kink/nsfw interaction.

#agere age guide #age regression community #sfw littlespace #sfw age regressor #agere little #sfw smolspace #sfw agere #sfw age regression #caregiver #agere sfw #age regression sfw

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yan-snowcave · 16 days

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I played with my friends the Visual Novel "Perfect Love" and here are some of the jokes/stuff we said while playing it that I wanna Archive. Also be warned that this will contain spoilers for the games endings! If you havent yet played the game I would highly recommend playing it, you can find the link to the game on the Offical Blog.of the VN!

Pre Milo; [Literally does anything]

Friend 1; Snow @ Milo (the cuteness agression is so real)

M-Milo; [Brands himself]

Me; Thats not a branding my dude just burned through so many layers of skin, we need to go the hospital! How will we explain THAT to Doctor?!

Friends; [Laughing]

Me; THEY WILL KINK SHAME YOU!

Friend 1; He needs some milk~

Friend 2; I dont think milk can help this time 😔

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Desmon; [Gets M-Milo to ignore us]

Me: I will throw you into the Cannibalism soup short king! <- (Has not yet seen the Cannibalism ending & didnt know there was one during this playthrough)

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[Marriage Milo ending]

Me; I'm taking all the eyes in the Divorce.

Friend 1; Instead of loosing the kids he's loosing the eyes

Me; Milo after the divorce be like [Bad Winnie Pooh voice] "They took my fucking eye."

[Cue Friends and Me laughing]

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A few seconds later; Wait the eye still functions?! He connected the eye nerves?!?!

Friends; Maybe?

Me; Damn...Nevermind, divorce canceled I'm keeping the free healthcare!

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Me @ Wall Ending Milo's CG; He looks like someone who would watch an Alpha Male podcasts

Friend 2; Oh god, yeah he would

Me; Or maybe start one in the basement

Friend 1; Another reason for a divorce

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Me: Oh he blew up the school

Friend 2 zoning back in; HE WHAT?!

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Ryan when for the 9th time the same gods torture him with the ending scene;

Any M-Milo scene that features a nickname ruined the dramatic atmosphere because we gave him (and us apparently) the nickname "Babyguurl" which we then proceeded to stretch the "guurl" part whenever it was said in the game

It lead to the point that M-Milo was just screaming Babyguurl so long I almost had a coughing fit

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Me : Lets go with a nickname is my language, Schätzchen sound good :3

Also me; [Procedes to butcher it everytime V-Milo says it because he wouldn't know German while my friends laughed in the background]

#perfect love vn #pl milo #pl violence milo #pl manipulation milo #perfect love

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winniethewife · 20 days

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Thank you for the headcanons winnie😭❤️

You just give the best and most accurate headcanons ever!

Congratulations on the 300 followers, btw😍 You deserve more!

For the second request, I wanna throw off the boys😌

I mean what's the point of requesting if there won't be anything smutty right?!

So, gimme gimme *grabby hands* the headcanons about how our moon boys would react when they are mad and the reader gets turned on by that😃

*looks at the camera breaking the 4th wall* Y'all...Lets do this. Give Mani what she wants.

Pissed/Cross/Enojado

Moon-Knight Smut head canons (Female reader)

Warnings: Smut under the cut, Angry sex, phone sex, degradation, mild violence, general toxicity,

Marc

Marc was pissed off. He had just had a pointless fight over the phone with some guy about something. You weren't paying attention to details.

you were a little more focused on the tingling between your legs

Marc doesn't get mad very often, if ever. So you had no idea what his angry raised voice would do to you.

When he comes into the room he continues to rant and rave, trying to release some of the built up tension That's when he notices your squirming

"Baby are you...are you turned on right now?"

After you hesitantly tell him that yes you are turned on by his behavior, he's taken a back. He doesn't really know how to respond.

It isn't until the next time he's pissed off at something that it comes into play.

You heard him growl intensely as he walked through the door and before you can even ask what's wrong, your back is against the wall and his lips are on yours. His hands grabbing you like you're the answer to all his problems

There's nothing that's going to stop him from taking what he needs

Your pants torn off, his weeping cock at your entrance, as he bites at your neck.

"God...Fuck...Need this...Need you"

Steven

Steven Hardly ever gets Cross. Unless its about work, and Donna.

He was going on and on over the phone to you about how much he was done with Donna and all the shite he had to do as a giftshopist.

you couldn't help but enjoy his irate rambling. a little too much even.

your hand drifting down your body as you listen to his voice, coating your fingers in your slick as you rub your fingers between your damp folds

"And I told her that she should shove it where the light don't shine, or at least I wanted to but...Love? are you alright? it sounds like your whimpering?"

you stop in you tracks and try to figure out how to answer his question. you decide honesty is the best policy and tell him that your touching yourself.

You can hear his breath hitch. he couldn't help it the thought of your fingers inside of you.

"I can be at yours in half an hour. Don't move"

the phone line clicks. and you follow his orders. When he comes rushing in the door you can see the outline of his cock in his pants as he looks at you desperately.

"So...you need me that badly love? well. Let me help with that."

Jake

Jake, knew he had fucked up the second he had thrown that plate. but he was so angry.

as the plate had whizzed past your head you knew you should have been scared, but instead you found your cunt clenching around nothing and your mouth going dry.

"Dios mío, Sstás bien? I'm so sorry, I don't know...what came over me." Oh, my God, are you okay?

He rushes to hold you and be sure you are alright but wasn't expecting this reaction, the way you melted in his arms, the soft moan that escaped your lips as his hands touched your hips. at first he gets more mad, you are turned on by this? of all things?

His grip tightens on you and the way he huffs in anger before quickly bending you over the nearby counter. yanking down your pants as he starts to mutter curses under his breath.

"Putita, just want to be fucked is that it? you like this? You like me like this? well lets see how you feel after this. eh?"

he pushes two fingers into you with frustration, not caring that your not wet enough, not caring as you cry out from the stretch of your walls.

you cry out, the feeling is so good, but almost too much. As he finger fucks you he lets out all his anger on your poor little pussy. bringing you to your climax again and again and again.

"Te gusta cuando estoy enojado? Te mostraré enojado!" Do you like it when I'm angry? I'll show you angry!

300 follower celebration

Masterlist

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littlest-nightingale · 8 months

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Okay I'm done trying to write decently here's random headcannons

Aziraphale keeps little caramel candies with him, Crowley prefers the dark chocolate covered coffee beans

While they could miracle in littlegear or food, stuff that they conjure just isn't as good, something about it is lacking

The good thing is, they don't necessarily have a budget, so they can have anything

Little Crowley likes dolls. He loves them, he's very particular about how his dolls are treated and takes utmost care to make sure that they are in good condition. He even has custom dresses made to match a few of them.

Aziraphale has learned the hard way that little Crowley should not be left in the bookshop unattended for a multitude of reasons

Crowley has driven the Bentley while regressed. Crowley should not drive the Bentley while regressed.

Crowley doesn't admit it, but he quite likes angel milk

Anathema is a very anxious little thing, Newt tries his best but unfortunately, he isn't the best with littles

The Them have adopted Anathema. Regression is far from the strangest thing they've encountered.

Newt is an anxious wreck the first time Anathema regressed, at least she thought his repeated mistakes were funny

Crowley is not allowed to drive while Aziraphale is regressed. He just isn't. Aziraphale will have a panic attack if he tries. Especially if he's in the car.

They have a very well loved first edition Winnie the Pooh book. It has it's own special place in it's own special box.

Aziraphale read the entire Bunnicula series to little Crowley, it's the only thing that he can read to the little without him whining about being bored.

Crowley, both big and little, absolutely adores Aziraphale's wings. Little Crowley is more open about that, though. He loves snuggling up next to the angel and letting him cover him with them like a blanket.

Crowley is still just as strict with his plants while little. Aziraphale does not like how Crowley treats his plants, so little Aziraphale will sneak around and water them and sometimes, he sings. Crowley pretends not to know.

Occasionally they will buy some new toy, something that's really popular at the time (like a hatchimal or like. A slime kit.) Crowley enjoyed the slime. Aziraphale did not. He didn't like the hatchimal either, neither of them did.

Most of the toys they do keep are vintage

Crowley makes a point of staring down people who give Aziraphale weird looks, especially if Aziraphale is using a pacifier. You do not mess with his little angel

Aziraphale is trying his best to be meaner to people who comment on Crowley's regression. He tries his best but, y'know, angel. He's very bad at being mean.

Crowley thought it would be cute to get Aziraphale a little something for Father's Day, as a little thank you for being his cg. Since there isn't like. A cg day. Aziraphale cried

The best way to get Crowley to sleep is a late night drive in the Bentley. Crowley doesn't like to let Aziraphale drive his car, this is the exception. One of Aziraphale's favorite sights is that of Crowley curled up in the passenger seat with his pacifier and a stuffie <3

#srry im avoiding qsmpposting rn cause. eggs r missing and it stresses me out #sfw age regression #agere #good omens agere

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lavender-rosa · 1 year

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Kny Characters + What stories would they write?

Ok last one for now I just had a lot of ideas

(Also kind of a modern au)

This is also really long, it contains the majority of the characters

Tanjirou: Pens a very lovely and whimsical tale about a boy who goes exploring in a sunny wood and comes across various talking animals who often say funny, charming and sometimes deeply profound things about the nature of the world. Think Le Petít Prince meets Winnie the Pooh. Half of the people who read the story thought that it was a delightful read while the other half thought it needed more conflict (lameasses)

Nezuko: When she was a human she was too busy taking care of her younger siblings and doing laundry to write down her little tween girl self-insert fantasies of joining Robin Hood's band of merry men and becoming the new leader who steals Robin Hood's heart <3 and other similar characters who fight sexily against injustice.

Zenitsu: Writes cringy self-insert fanfic both in modern au and in the taishou era. He writes selfcest fanfic (but don't you get it? It's actually a metaphor about the duality of the self, and he's working out his inner demons UGH don't make fun of him!!!!!) and is that guy who writes really dark, fucked up fanfic about cartoons (he has watched a lot of anime). He's really into theaters, plays, operas, musicals you name it. He went through a big Tennessee Williams phase and tried to write exactly like him to.....middling success. He tried to write a musical once only to realize one song in, that an advanced sense of hearing and proficiency in multiple musical instruments doesn't actually equate to having any compositional talent. He'll stick to critiquing and leave the creative writing to people with more style and imagination.

Inosuke: He narrates a story about a boy who escapes an opressive society and goes to start an anarchist commune in the woods with other refugees. The fact that there are no rules and everyone does what they want is epic and he doesn't miss his old life at all even a little bit and then they all live happily ever after, the end. Shinobu claims that while his narration style is direct and incisive, the story ultimately lacks nuance.

Genya: He had a really big crush on Mulan and Li Shang when he was a kid and when he saw the garbage straight to DVD sequel it dissapointed him so badly he vowed to rewrite it so that it was good now, actually. He got three pages in before it occured to him that this was a waste of his time because no one but him would ever actually read it, and he abandoned it. Little did he know that little Nezuko would have loved to read it, but he didn't know Nezuko yet. Alas.

Kanao: She writes a series of diary entries from the perspective of a teenage girl. At first she's just talking about stereotypical teenage girl stuff, like the boy she likes and the mean thing her friend said at the mall, but then at some point the narrator realises that she's in a story, and her diary entries get introspective and frantic and meta as she is ultimately crushed under the weight of her own narrative. Her teacher deems it "brilliant" and suggests submitting it to literary magazines for publication to which Kanao replies "no thanks Λ_Λ 🫧"

Aoi: She once wrote a story inspired by "Over the Garden Wall" about two characters who are clearly her and Kanao navigating a sinister, mysterious forest together. It really helped her work through some stuff.

Senjurou: He makes an artbook of his crafts, paintings and photography. It has a very special place on Rengoku's shelf.

Rest of characters under read more

Shinobu: She writes a story about a lesbian pirate who has an affair with a bisexual tavernkeeper who is cheating on her shitty husband right under his nose. One day the husband finds out and gets violent so they kill him and serve chunks of his flesh to stray alley cats. Her friends and family really enjoy the story but others don't understand "why everything Shinobu writes needs to have such an agenda"

Sanemi: He pens a tragic fairytale about an empress who loses all of her children to various causes and ultimately kills herself. The style is very poetic and beautiful but the story is so unbelievably sad that anyone who reads it is prompted to ask "what was the point of this" and "if you need help i have a pretty good therapist i can recommend"

Giyuu: He once wrote a novella about a miserable, traumatised young man who causes problems for himself for no reason. Shinobu reads it and says "Wow Giyuu, this is an amazing piece of satire I never knew you had such a great sense of humour!" And Giyuu is just like "it wasn't meant to be comedic" and Shinobu's like "Oh......." Many years down the line Sanemi reads it too and argues that the protagonist needs to be punished more by the narrative and Giyuu responds "thanks...I'll keep that in mind....."

Gyomei: While not a man of many words, the novel he has been dictating reveals a very beautiful, sensitive, poetic soul and may move you to tears.

Muichirou: Doesn't read books and now you want him to write one???

Uzui: He wrote touching and hilarious letters to his wives whenever they were apart, which they keep stored in a small wooden chest and pull out to read whenever they are feeling wistful. Besides that he has no desire to write anything. The most he ever writes is when he is writing letters to other Pillars, which always say the same thing "Hey come over here so I can talk to you in person. Fuck you. Tengen"

Mitsuri: In the Kimetsu Gakuen comic series she along with Shinobu brainstormed a manga called "Sishinta and Friends" where all the characters are pieces of sushi and the romantic rival is a piece of shrimp called Ebi that looks like Rengoku and gets into conflict with a fried piece of salmon called Yakishake that looks like Akaza, who wants Ebi to get fried because if he doesn't he will spoil and die, but Ebi argues that getting spoiled quickly defines sushi and that he would never become fried and thus the two engage in a vicious crustacean vs aquatic vertebrate battle. Not kidding, it's chapter 11

Iguro: He writes a story from the perspective of an electron that doesn't know that it's entangled but can sometimes still feel that it is connected to something across the universe when it spins. It is a brilliant poignant story about starcrossed love and the significance of relationality across the cosmos that almost none of his peers understand "because it all sounds too sciencey"

Rengoku: Had a diary detailing his childhood, his mother and her passing, his father's descent into alcoholism, his little brother, his training exercises, his missions and his unsuccessful attempts at making his father proud. As the years passed the diary entries became shorter and shorter until one day they completely stopped...

Kagaya: Writes a dark comedy about a horrible, pathetic man who makes everyone around him miserable including himself because he refuses to adjust his insane principles even when presented with tangible evidence that contradicts his beliefs, at one point he commits multiple murders and gets away with them until the end of the story where he is killed by his own myopic greed. Muzan claims that the hero of the story "is greatly sympathetic" and that "he deserved a better fate" Kagaya is just like "yeah...I kinda knew you would say that... :)"

Tamayo: She pens a lot of theory that is highly abstract, very dense, overly cerebral, sprawling and bordeline illegible. Her works are sort of like if Feynman and Derrida had a baby and also that baby was in highly need of an editor that could whittle down every four pages into one sentence. She writes theory on every scientific field imaginable, including fields she all but invented. People who can actually figure out what the hell she is saying insist that she is a genius and that her ideas changed their life, but most people don't even bother or just pretend to have read her stuff.

Yushiro: He writes academic criticism/theory/research, which is ever so slightly more lucid and succinct than Tamayo's.

Kyogai: Writes a story about ghosts throughout time occupying a single house together, haunting each other, ever temporarily overlapping in a cacophony of grief. While coherent it is very dense, and most of his publishers don't bother actually unpacking it, so they mostly just complain about the non-linear timeline being "too confusing" (lameasses)Tanjirou loves it though.

Rui: When he was still a human he had diary entries, which served as a treasured outlet through to vent his supressed and overwhelming feelings regarding his illness. He didn't write every day, and sometimes his entries were longer than others. In the weeks between him meeting Muzan and him murdering his parents, Rui's diary entries took a turn for the messy, rambling, dramatic and graphic. His diaries were well-hid under a rug in his room and thus never found.

Muzan: He writes about an ubermensch who is able to valiantly resist the liberal indoctrination of the pathetic sjws who are triggered by his inner strength and sharp intelligence. It reads almost identically to Kagaya's story (except with a vastly different prose style), but unlike Kagaya, it is completely sincere and not remotely a satire. Unfortunate.

Kaigaku: Writes a story about a "really cool" alpha male whose girlfriend unfairly dumps him after their wannabe sigma male acquaintance who was jealous of him because he loved his girlfriend gets him cancelled on Twitter for saying a slur 10 years ago. But it turns out said guy who steals his girlfriend is actually a terrible person who treats women like shit despite posturing as a feminist for clout. Zenitsu reads it and is like "wow, this could actually be a very well thought out critique on performative allyship and how any kind of man can be equally abusive to the women in their lives....if not for the fact that THE SIGMA MALE IN THIS STORY IS CLEARLY A STAND IN FOR ME ???????"

Daki: She def has a "went through a phase of writing hardcore slash fic" vibes, I can't explain it but she does. She's also incredible at writing roasts. She gives a speech at every birthday party she has been invited to and it fucking kills.

Gyutaro: The first and only time he ever attempted constructing his own story was when he was very young, where he devised a truly gruesome story about woodland creatures that accidentally made Ume cry. Whoops!

Gyokko: He wrote the japanese equivalent of Donatien Alphonse Francois Marquis de Sade's "120 Days of Sodom" the book that inspired the well-known 1975 film Saló (on a sidenote: I have read the book and it's much worse than the movie, just read the wiki summary to get the idea) Anyways if you are familiar with the book or the film you should know that whatever the hell Gyokko wrote is not suitable for human or demon consumption alike.

Hantengu: Spent a couple decades or so publishing a series of action-adventure-erotica novels under a pseydonym. Once you've been around for long enough, you just start doing shit.

Akaza: When he was young he wrote about a brave and valiant samurai who goes off to slay an oni and bring it's head back as a trophy for the shogun, only to learn that the oni was really just minding her own business, leading him to question everything he thought he knew about the Japanese feudal government, and ultimately beheading the shogun instead. His teacher deemed it "intriguing, but slightly concerning" (Lame!!!) Also probably had a Magneto and a Robin Hood phase.

Douma: Publishes a book that is one part self-help, one part gloating memoir, one part spiritual guide, one part personality quiz and 100% barf. Hakuji cannot believe that Koyuki has read it cover to cover multiple times, as if it contains wisdom deserving to be gleaned even once. He'd burn it if he didn't know that Koyuki would just immediately go out and buy another copy, giving even more money to that bastardly scammer.

Kokushibou: He finds most novels insipid, poetry either boring at best or nauseating at worst, and fanfiction a hobby practiced only by the most simple minded buffoons so he doesn't think he's missing out. He once sent a letter to Douma but never received an answer from him, so when he asked him about it when they met face-to-face Douma simply told him that attempting to read through and trying to comprehend Kokushibou's highly antiquated and dense writing was sheer torture for him so he just gave up ❤ he advised him to modernize his writing, even just a tiny bit. Kokushibou could do that....but he refuses to ❤️

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treedaddymcpuffpuff · 4 months

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Beneath Miles of Stone - Part five - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

TW: Bullying

Michael has a lot of stuff. A lot of heavy stuff. Despite him assuring her that he can move it all in on his own, she still wants to help.

It would be kind of a dick move if she didn’t assist with all of this. An hour in, and the apartment is already transformed from bland and empty into a hoard of pastel rainbow decor and soft white staple pieces.

She takes a break to admire the painting of a fluffy white angel cat over watercolor Van Gogh scenery. Michael comes through the door, panting, with his white, vintage microwave in tow.

“Who painted this?” She asks him.

He smiles, blushes, puts the microwave down and then his hand on his hips. “I did.”

Her eyes grow wide. “This is amazing.”

He chuckles. “Thank you.”

She likes Michael a lot already, but she’s also very jealous of him and his many talents and cool possessions. He makes her want to decorate and be creative, both skills she’s never been able to possess correctly.

She hasn’t gotten the key made yet, so she goes out and does that while he starts unpacking his things. By the time she’s done, her apartment looks astonishing. Fairy lights twinkle over gauze white curtains and a big speaker plays soft hiphop music in one corner of the living room. Her couch is full of comfy white and grey fluffy throw pillows. An incense burner releases gourmand, smoky aroma into the air.

Michael is stretched out on the couch, taking a break, watching Legally Blonde on DVD. Her small TV is now in her room and his bigger flatscreen dwarfs the stand that it was on.

She sits down beside him with two glasses of water. Before she can set hers down on the coffee table, he stops her. “Wait! Coasters!”

He digs through two boxes of stuff before he finds white marble coasters for them to set their drinks on.

She laughs at him and he grins back. “I know, I know,” he tells her, “typical trust fund kid BS.”

“You’re fine,” she tells him. “I was laughing at the coasters because the table is already a mess.”

“Listen,” he says, “this table just needs some tee ell cee . A sander and some paint would do her wonders.” He pats the wooden top.

“Can I help?” She asks, excited to take on a project with a new friend.

“Of course you can,” he assures.

She remembers him telling her that his mother is an artist. “Did your mom teach you to paint?”

He nods. “She also taught me how to make miniatures. You know, like dollhouses but for adults?”

“That’s amazing. Do you trade art with her?”

“I do,” he says, “we send things back and forth in the mail. Although my dad says it ‘ clogs up their post office box ’.”

“He’s not a fan of art?”

Michael snorts. “He hates everything except golf. Sometimes I think he hates me.”

She shakes her head. “Does he really hate you? You’re the perfect son.”

Michael sighs. “No, but he hates gay people, so it’s close enough. When I first came out to him, if my mother wouldn’t have been there, he would’ve probably shot me. He’s a real man’s man if you know what I mean..”

She nods, smiling ruefully. “Oh, I know exactly what you mean.”

Michael thinks for a moment. “We should get a dog.”

“I would love that, but it’s no pets here.” She frowns.

He raises his eyebrows and sips at his water. “What they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

They decide it has to be a quiet dog, one from the local shelter who’s comfortable being alone at night. They look online for local pounds to read up on some potential candidates.

“Rocky. Pitbull mix. Potty trained, good with kids and other pets, sweet and loves everyone.” She shows Michael a picture of a medium sized black, stout dog with shiny grey eyes.

Michael shows her his own selection, a retired service beagle named Winnie. “Short for Winnifred,” he reads, “loves people and other pets, very polite, and hardly ever barks.”

“I love them both,” she groans, leaning back into the couch cushions.

“Same,” Michael sighs. “It’s one in the afternoon. Do you work tonight?”

“Yup.” She presses an arm over her face, blocking out the ceiling light.

“Don’t you have to sleep?” He asks.

She’s not tired at all because she slept through the night, but she agrees because Michael sounds like he needs some alone time. Plus, her DVDs and TV are in her room now, and if she can’t sleep she can watch an old horror movie again.

The problem isn’t getting to sleep, it’s staying there - waking up sweating, gasping, whining John’s name. She slaps her mouth shut, presses her face into her pillow, and prays to any deity listening that her voice wasn’t loud enough for Michael to hear. First day in the new place and his roommate has a wet dream. It would make any sane person want to revoke their rental agreement immediately.

She should be embarrassed and anxious that Michael potentially heard her, but instead she’s grinding against her sheets and thinking of tall men handcuffed to beds.

This won’t work. This isn’t working. She’s so pent up that it’s borderline painful. It’s taking over her mind. She sticks her hand into her sleep pants, past her underwear, and into a sloppy mess, tries to think about anything but John while she rubs her clit, but in doing so her brain latches onto the thought of him and pretty soon he’s the only thing on her mind. It’s like her body thinks John and pleasure are one and the same.

She tries to paint a decent fantasy of what she would like sex with him to be, but really she doesn’t give a shit as long as it’s him. And that’s what scares her. He could be absolutely celibate and she’d still crave him, and this is the worst time for her to realize that because her alarm is going off for work.

She orgasms at the cost of being ten minutes late.

The locker room lights are off when she goes to put her things away, which is unusual. Since she started, they’ve been lit around the clock. In fact, she’s not even sure where the light switch is in here because she’s never had to use it. Fumbling around in the pitch black is making her even tardier. Finally, she finds the switch and flips it. The room illuminates, and standing under the migraine-inducing glow is someone who makes headaches seem like a dream come true.

Benny grins from his seat on the bench, which he quickly abandons in favor of looming over her. Once again, the sweaty, edematous mass of him blocks her exit.

She’s too busy contemplating if anyone would hear her scream to see him hold his open palm out expectantly.

“Give it to me,” he says.

“What?” She asks, imagining in another universe she sounds angry and oppositional instead of whiny and terrified. In another universe, she can also kick his ass. Not in this one, though. In this universe, she does as Benny demands and hands him her phone so she doesn’t have to suffer through the touch of his greasy skin a second time.

He holds her phone in one hand while the other holds his own. She doesn’t bother trying to see what he’s doing because she can’t get her feet to move let alone stand on tiptoes and look over his shoulder.

This goes on for a while in which her only thought consists of asking herself if she could run to the door and make it into the populated infirmary before he can catch her. Again, this is a solution mainly dependent on her stubborn feet.

She’s not really worried about what he sees on her phone. It’s what he’s getting from it that sets her pulse careening.

He reaches out and tries to shove it into her jacket pocket, but luckily that’s when her feet decide to save her and step away from his hands. He scowls at her like she just insulted his mother.

“Fine.” Benny opens his hand and drops her phone on the stone floor. She winces when she hears the shatter, then looks back up at his pleased expression.

“Remember our trip.” He pushes past her, not enough to hurt but to make her yelp and stumble, and slams the door shut on his way out.

Her phone isn’t broken. The screen has a tiny crack in one corner but other than that it’s still perfect. She doesn’t understand why she heard it shatter, but chalks it up to losing her mind from repeated stress and unregulated sleep.

She grabs her bag from her locker and brings it with her to the nurse’s station, labeling the locker room as an unsafe and off limits space, which are becoming more bountiful by the day.

John is not her patient tonight. On her day off they must have had an influx of admissions because she’s responsible for 10 of them and the infirmary is unusually and appropriately staffed.

Her hopes of his nurse trading him are slim to none because he’s a wonderful patient and over time everyone has seemed to agree that they want him on their assignment sheet.

The other nurse’s that take and give her report always talk about what a cool, easy going guy he is and how they’re surprised that he needs that many guards with him.

“What do you think he did?” Stan, one of the day shift nurses, asks her.

“My bet’s on released a circus full of wild animals and let them trample a small town, but I could be wrong.” She taps her pen against her report sheet and laughs at her own joke.

Stan snorts. “He probably killed some rich guys.”

The other nurses like him so much that most of their theories on why John is in four point restraints with four men guarding him at all times is because he’s done something valiant that pissed someone powerful off.

That’s probably the other reason his wound looks better; not just because of her, but because if you like a patient or connect with them you’re more than likely going to give them the best care you can provide.

If she’s honest, it kind of makes her feel sick. Not because everyone has grown to like John, but because that means she’ll have less chance of being his nurse from here on out. Also, she knows it’s five-year-old mentality, but she liked him and treated him well first while the other ones had to get to know him beforehand.

Her case load is heavy. A couple IV’s, wound changes, someone with a tracheostomy. She sits down to chart, finally, at 3 AM.

One of the other nurses, Bill, calls for her across the hall.

She fights the urge to groan while standing on sore feet and walking over to his medication cart.

Bill grins at her, looking like he’s really enjoying himself. “My patient in 9 wants to see you.”

“Me?” She asks.

Bill shrugs, still looking very amused. “He says he needs to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Bill tells her. “Seems that he likes your company, though.” He gives an eyebrow raise at the awkward expression crawling onto her face.

She reminds herself that this her workplace for the 80th time and that Bill’s suggestive expressions are just him messing around. Joking. That’s all. He’s joking.

John is watching the door, waiting for her. When she pops in like a mouse and scurries to his bed, He feels the urge to pet her on the head for showing up, which is strange but not unwarranted. She does act like a cute little pet. That’s not the most respectable way to think of her, but he likes it so it sticks.

His smile is wide and genuine. “How’s the roommate search?”

“Uh, I got one.” She smiles timidly, hoping he doesn’t think she’s erratic and air-headed for finding someone so fast

His eyes widen just the smallest bit. “That’s good, are they nice?”

She nods too eagerly. “He’s great. And he has great decorations.”

The key word here - at least the one his ears attune to - is he. Not because a woman and a man living together automatically entails romance or connection, but because John knows men - John is a man - and most of them turn out to be less than good.

He tries not to look mean, to keep his smile, to focus on her being here with him in the present and alive and well; If he doesn’t, rage will start talking, nefarious, whispering sin in his ear, assuring him that it wouldn’t be hard to break out of these handcuffs and make sure her roommate becomes her loyal dog for the rest of the time he spends living with her.

“If you wouldn’t have suggested it, I’d probably be homeless by next week.” She tries to sway the conversation toward optimism because she sees something in his expression that reads like he’s a little upset. He probably does think she’s a moron at this point.

Maybe it’s just good that she’s happy. He tries to shift focus onto that. The roommate can’t be that bad if she’s so upbeat.

It’s been very easy to talk to John most times, but then there are moments like this when something awkward and unsaid hangs between them and more often than not she doesn’t know what it is. Maybe he doesn’t either.

“Just be careful,” is what he decides to say.

She chuckles. “I will, don’t worry.”

He doesn’t understand what’s funny.

One of the security guards stands, stretches, yawns. He says he’s going to take a break. The other guards are asleep, so once he leaves they’ll be, essentially, alone.

“I’m gonna go to vending, John you want anything?” He asks.

John shakes his head no. “Thanks.”

The security guard nods at both her and John and walks out.

“I’m sorry if I bothered you while you were busy,” he says, apologizing with his eyes, too. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

She purses her lips, which he thinks means she’s trying not to leak an expression that will probably be embarrassing. Really, she’s trying to tame her lion heart back into its cage before it sinks its teeth into him and refuses to let go.

“I’m okay, John.” She attempts smiling. “You’re the one in the hospital bed.”

He shrugs like his stab wound and near death are just a hiccup.

She talks again. “And I’m glad you called me in. I like talking to you.”

His face is all smile now. “Likewise.”

He tells her to pull up a chair if she wants, and she steals one of the metal ones that the breaking guard left behind. She sits by his bedside and they have a conversation about the weather that turns into a discussion on harsh winters in Belarus.

“Did you grow up there?” She asks him.

He nods. “I traveled a lot.”

“So, you’re Russian?” She puts her chin in her palm and stares at him like he is the most interesting person in the world. She’s adorable like this.

“Yes. American, now.”

“Do you speak Russian?” Her eyebrows raise.

“da, ya krasivaya.” His tone automatically slides into a deep baritone when he says this.

He needs to be nerfed. Outlawed. He should not be handsome, nice, like-able, and be able to speak a different language in his perfect voice. It’s really not fair at all.

She’s too busy trying to tame her rogue thoughts to ask him what he even said. The desire to climb into his lap and straddle him crosses her mind twenty times in different ways. She blinks heavy. “You’re the coolest person I know.”

He murmurs a laugh.

They talk until the guard comes back from his break, mainly about Belarus and what it was like there and where else he has traveled. She’s not sure if she’s always had the desire to travel, but if she didn’t before she does now.

Although she has a ton of charting to catch up on, she doesn’t want to leave him. The taste of human connection is on her tongue after a couple years of abstinence and she’s becoming addicted.

When she leaves his room, it’s with inner reluctance and impressive self control.

She tells him to sleep. He promises he’ll try.

It would be easier to do her job if she wasn’t catching Benny sneering at her whenever they’re in the same space, but she gets through it, reasoning that John has it worse than her because he has to suffer through six hours with the asshole guard in his room.

#john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction #john wick x plus size reader #john wick x reader #john wick x you #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu reeves fanfiction

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thechaoticdruid · 5 months

Text

~My Tav for roleplay and story purposes~

Name: Winnie (Winnifred)

Gender: Female

Pronouns: She/Her

Class: Druid (Her favorite form being the direwolf. I also like to imagine she has some doggy-like characteristics because of it lol), she's also multi-classing as a wizard for reasons.

Age: 23

Race: Human

Hair: Reddish brown

Eyes: Pink

Height: 5'3

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral (With a bit of a good lean I suppose)

Love interest: Astarion

Backstory: Winnifred was raised deep in a hidden forest village, amongst her fellow druids. Her grandmother was the archdruid of their circle and took to raising her after Winnie's parents went missing (aka the likely died horribly on an adventure.) Winnie lived a peaceful, but boring life in the village for thirteen years until eventually it was raided by goblins and everyone she'd known and loved was slaughtered before her very eyes. Winnie was captured by the horde's leader, a strange drow wizard who only allowed her to live because he thought she'd be the perfect test subject for his 'experiments'. She never learned his name, but since the event his face has haunted her nightmares. Winnie remained his lab rat for weeks following the raid. Eventually however her suffering came to an end when a band of adventurers came to her rescue. Apparently they were old friends of the family though she had never once met any of them. They freed her from the prison she'd been held in before setting fire to the goblins camp, killing every last one of the circle's murderers....Well all except for the drow...

Sometime after that Winnie was taken in by Arva, a half elf who just so happened to be the leader of her rescuers. She brought Winnie back to her group's hideout in Baldur's Gate's under city and for ten years Winnie learned how to survive on the streets, using some not so heroic skills Arva had taught her....

•Just stuff about Winnie•

Winnie is weird.

She rarely takes anything seriously and will usually use humor as a way to keep herself sane as she puts it.

She's definitely not a saint but there are some big no nos for her when it comes to morals. No harming innocents, children, or animals.

Self righteous rich tits can suck it tho

"Think you can just spit on me? Huh!? I'll bite your fucking ankles!"

Winnie is an insomniac with permanent raccoon eyes. Shh...don't say anything she gets self conscious!

She has really low self esteem when it comes to her appearance.

Growing up all the other children in her village used to call her ugly a lot. Pretty much all of them aside from a gnome child named Demi.

Winnie liked Demi. Demi used to call her tall.

Winnie isn't particularly romantically experienced. Mostly due to her low self esteem and urge to faint or run away screaming when around someone she finds attractive.

Astarion is her first everything really.

Moving on from that Winnie has a bit of an obsession with cheese. It's like her favorite thing ever.

If you have any she will steal it.

Her handwriting is awful.

She has a habit of pretending to be dumber than she actually is to throw people off.

She identifies herself as being interested in men exclusively, but if I'm honest she does have a bicurious streak.

Mostly because Karlach once asked her what she would do if Astarion was a girl.

Karlach is like her best friend, but don't tell Star he'll get jealous. Shhh...

Has a little plant in a small pot that she affectionately calls Vern.

Currently writing erotic Bloodweave fanfiction titled 'Blood Mage' as a side job to afford Astarion's costly wardrobe. Shhh.... don't tell Gale.

Likes to draw exaggerated doodles in her journal a lot. Usually illustrating important events in her life.

She often dwells on something she remembered one of the older druids saying before the raid. The elder druid described Winnie as "a weed amongst the flowers."

Winnie used to flip the old lady off behind her back all the time.

Will probably be updated and expanded on. Feel free to ask questions. I might make a separate one of these for my Durge .

IMPORTANT: While I am open to doing a little roleplay here and there I'm only doing it with users above the age of 18. Anyone without their age on their blog will be blocked or ignored. Also I'm not comfortable roleplaying the canon characters at this time so don't ask please.

#bg3 #bg3 tav #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #bg3 rp #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 roleplay #my tav #baldur's gate 3 roleplay

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