#Little Polly <3

[coriline]

“My little Polly can speak_ O. teach her to pronounce my Name_ & kiss the little Angel for me_”

From John Laurens to his uncle, James Laurens, 1772 16 April about his little sister Mary Eleanor Laurens, better known like little Polly, who apparently learned to speak at the age of two years old.

And yes, who evidently was very adored and loved by John, if the quantity of petitions to caress and kiss to her from his part is something to say ;).

[avpol]

Black Teeth

[3am-brainrot]

Something something found family and that half sibling bond

[whumpcloud]

Things End | People Change - Go For The Throat

taglist: @whumpsday @whumpycries @whumpwillow @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @whumpshaped @suspicious-whumping-egg

content: lady whump, vampire whumper, kidnapping, begging, fear of death, defiant whumpee

He's always hated silence. Too many things creep into his mind when it's silent. He walks with heavier footsteps, trying to drown it out.

He hears them, hundreds of little heartbeats, from the windows, down the alleyways. There was a time where this wasn't the case, but it's so far away now that even the idea seems fanciful.

He was human, once.

Vincent Maddox was an Oxford student studying classics. Vincent Maddox was barely an adult, isolating himself in a foreign country, when he met someone who he felt respected him, who offered him the chance to feel that again. Vincent Maddox was naive and trusting.

Vincent Maddox died when he was twenty-two, and he's still walking around, trapped in his own corpse.

He breaks the fence he kicks and it doesn't lessen his frustration in the slightest. He was too polite, too demure to ever take his anger out like this when he was human, and there's zero release in it when he could rip almost anything apart with his bare hands without even trying.

When was the last time he cried? Perhaps it was on the ship back to England in 1846. 1844? Does it matter? It should, shouldn't it? Perhaps it was when he visited Henry's grave in… it must have been the 1910s, before he finally did. Long after Henry had died. Vincent remembers begging his brother's gravestone for forgiveness, but he isn't sure if he cried.

Vincent covers his mouth with his hand. The tight feeling in his chest is just that - a feeling, with nothing he can do to stop it.

It needs it to stop. He needs to make it stop. He wants it all to stop!

"Are you alright?"

Vincent's gaze snaps up towards the source of the voice. A young woman is staring at him, head tilted in concern. Human. Her heart thumps softly.

"Am I alright?" he whispers.

"That's what I asked," she smiles. Is she trying to make him feel better? Her smile is nice.

"It's late," he mumbles. "Dangerous."

"Here? What's gonna get me out here, huh?" She raises an eyebrow. "You? I could beat you up."

He finds himself lightly laughing at that. Not maliciously, not because she's wrong. It's just the way she says it. The confidence in her tone.

When was the last time he laughed and meant it?

She sticks out her hand. "I'm Clary. Anything I can do to help?"

Stay. He swallows. He is stronger than her. He could grab her hand and take her with him before she could even blink.

What is he thinking? He doesn't know her at all. He can't be so achingly lonely that this is all she needs to do for him to decide he needs her.

He needs someone. He isn't friends with any of the vampires around here. Sure, they'll tolerate his presence, but he hears second-hand about gatherings. Sometimes he thinks about searching for Lyfelde, being somebody's companion again, but then the scar under his eye itches and he remembers how terrifying it was to wake up like this, and he banishes the thought from his mind.

Clary waves her hand a little bit. "Hello?"

"S-Sorry," he mumbles. "Vincent."

He takes her hand, and he makes the decision almost on instinct. Hand over her mouth, arm around her torso, and he runs, dragging her with him, in no more than a second.

She starts to scream and kick, but holding her just a little tighter makes her stop. Did he crack her ribs? He hopes not, he hopes he can do this without injuring her, but he's never been able to control his strength. Lyfelde tried to teach him, but Vincent left, and lied, and it's so much effort to not damage things.

His place is close by, and he just breaks the lock on his front door instead of trying for the keys buried in his coat. There's an extra bedroom he never uses, the only room in the house with a window - he bought this place before the repeal of the window tax and never bothered to reinstall them - and he drags Clary into it and pins her to the floor.

She gasps. "Y-You fucking-!"

"Be quiet!" he hisses, trying to sound threatening. "Just be quiet, okay?"

"Make me!" she spits.

It takes a moment of wrestling with her, but he grabs both her wrists in one hand, pinning them above her head, and covers her mouth with the other.

"Shh," he says, softly, in that slightly menacing way that he's seen other vampires do, just in the hopes that it works. "Just shh. Everything will be fine. I won't hurt you."

He smiles, showing his fangs. Her heartbeat quickens, but she doesn't let it show on her face, not even a little. Brave. He knows that humans are aware of vampires, but their day-to-day life is, for the most part, unimpacted. It's one of those things that they always think happens to other people.

Clary swallows. He doesn't seem interested in killing her, that she can tell. She nods, and stays quiet. He removes his hand from her mouth.

"Okay, good," he says. He runs his fingers through his hair. "Clary. You're Clary."

"Mhm," is all she replies.

"This is going to be your room, okay?" Vincent says. "If you want anything else for it you can ask."

"Y-You can't-" She bites her tongue. Rephrase. She doesn't know if she can risk pissing him off. "You're keeping me here?"

"Yes," he responds. His voice seems to… tremble? "Keeping you. You're mine."

As soon as the word leaves his mouth, his smile returns.

"Mine." His fingers find their way to her chin, tilting it slightly. "I like the sound of that."

Clary glares and flinches away. "Fucking freak."

He digs his fingers into her skin. "Don't speak that way. I hate swearing."

"And how are you gonna stop me?" He's bruised her plenty, but she's already pushed, so she might as well keep going and see what else he'll do.

"Can't you be nice?" he snaps. "You were being nice."

Clary blinks at him. "What?"

"Is it so hard?" Vincent's grip on her wrists tightens. "All I'm asking is for you to keep me company, and let me have some of your blood. That's it."

Clary genuinely can't help it. She isn't a patient person, and she isn't easily scared, either, even though she knows what a vampire could do to her if they wanted to. Danger isn't real if it isn't happening, and really, what is he doing to her right now?

She snickers.

"What… what are you laughing for?" Vincent seems more confused than anything, and that's Clary's cue to go for the throat.

"You want company." She grins. "You couldn't get anyone else to hang out with you? You're so unlikeable that you had to kidnap some poor little human to get a friend?"

"Sh- Shut up!" Vincent grabs her by the hair, but she doesn't react, even though she swears she feels him pull a few strands out. "I said I wouldn't hurt you, so don't make me, okay?"

"What made you do it?" she asks, leaning up. "Because you were upset? I bet you were crying about something stupid and it just made you so happy that someone was finally nice to you. Fucking loser."

Vincent doesn't say anything. His eyes flash, and he pulls Clary's head up and to the side so he can sink his fangs into her neck. She gasps with the sudden pain, a sharp sting that only gets worse the longer it goes on. And he just keeps going.

She pulls at his shirt, kicks, scratches, and it doesn't do a thing. "S-Stop, stop it!"

Her hands are becoming clammy and cold, and she shakes. It's too much. He really is going to kill her, she went too far and Cai is going to have to identify her drained, dead body, and she doesn't want to die.

"P-Please!" she tries. "I'll be nice, if you want me to be nice! Stop, don't kill me, please don't kill me!"

Vincent's grip tightens for a moment, and he lingers, then lets go. Drops of blood trickle down her neck. She whimpers softly.

He wasn't going to kill her. He thought he would, for a minute there, but he never would have. It wasn't even the begging that stopped him.

He doesn't want to be alone again. Even if she's going to snap at him, he can… fix that. He's not the first vampire to take a human, and he certainly won't be the last. There's people he can ask, and they might smile and say he's done well, or even, at least, seem proud of him for something.

"Just… relax, okay?" he says softly. "I'm going to lay you down."

Clary lets herself be lifted up and placed down on the bed. It's clearly had no use for years, and that could be any number, depending on how old Vincent is. But it's a bed, in a windowed room, and frankly she could be worse off.

"Rest as much as you need," Vincent says, putting the blankets over her. "I want you to be okay."

"How could you think this was a good idea?" she mutters.

Because I'm alone. Because you were nice. Because I can't take being like this anymore. Because the consequences of my own actions are crushing me and I need someone to tell me it wasn't a mistake, even if they're lying, I just need to hear it, please.

"Because I can do what I want," is his reply. "Get some sleep."

He walks away and locks the door behind him. Clary supposes sleep would be nice, and turns away from it.

[saltibois]

!TRIGGER WARNING! body horror, blood and weirdcore

From Senior hs AP Art Studio class, 2019. We had to make 12 pieces of art throughout the year, with a theme. My theme was nostalgic childhood toys with a horror/weird-core twist.

The lalaloopsy is based on the creature from Jhonen Vasquez's I Feel Sick comic book. I highly recommend it.

The Furby piece is based on that one cursed Furby image...

[autumnalfallingleaves]

More of these kids growing up together (with bonus design doodles)

reblogs are highly appreciated, and please do not repost my art

[godseyeaemond]

rhaenyra targaryen | little girl blue & the battle envy / skating polly ↳ "I tried to forfeit...I tried to drop this... I tried to forget...I tried to stop this."

[pollyannawog]

Splatoon 3 is rly fun 🐙

[steal-this-album]

thank you latino genes for everything

[shopcat]

of all the designs which ones actually existed in the 80s? :)

UM off the dome erm none of the bratz ones which were invented in the early 2000s and i specifically used the 2010 version for the st one and the 2012 design for cc's. the barbie ones are era accurate!! they used that design with the pink shadowing from like the mid 70s to the 90s.. the rainbow mlp one is the retro version but i honestly couldn't find any consistency in things like the arc design there and it seems to differ based on whoever's producing it and also i invented the clouds entirely which also seemed to change case by case but i used the one that was used in the original cartoon which is like, 83 - 88!! i also used g1 pinkie pie for the pony lol. actually heres a side by side for fine though i actually used the h/n from another font and had to hand make the g to match the y bc 100% of all logo designs use a modified version of a font that costs like. 50 bucks as well which is why it always takes me so long cuz i'm like not just downloading a font i'm using the pen tool

but the other mlp one is from friendship is magic which around the 2010s i believe :0

[discworldwitches]

ok but original polly pockets were some of the best toys

[the-snadger]

this is your sign to go play in the dirt and twigs and rocks and leaves like you’re 5 years old again

[honkytonk-hangman]

When Jake Met Polly

Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Reader

Summary: Jake likes to flirt with his Air Traffic Controller or Jake Seresin has never seen When Harry Met Sally.

Warnings: Not much, fluff, flirting and refs to sex.

Note: This is just a short little idea i've had for agesss... reader has a 'name' but it's just her callsign, Polly, as in, short for Polaris. Ty to @hangmanssunnies i wuv u <3

“Hangman to Tower, I am coming in hot.”

You roll your eyes at the all too familiar voice that crackles through your radio, a smile pulling at your lips as you adjust your microphone and briefly throw a glance over your shoulder, just to make sure your commanding officer wasn’t lingering.

“Tower to Hangman. We are appalled at the gross lack of radio etiquette on display,” you respond. Barely a few seconds pass before you receive a reply.

“Come on, Polly, we've been working together for over a year now, what’s a little informality between colleagues?” Hangman says, and despite his jet only being a blip on your horizon still, you know he’s grinning.

“A commercial airline, Lieutenant.” You deadpan, your own smile growing as his laughter comes down the line. “You are cleared for landing, proceed to runway B,” you continue, not wanting him to have to ask again seeing as his approach was cutting it close already.

“Polly, have I ever told you that you’re my favourite Controller?” He asks as you watch him enter the pattern, and click your pen.

“Only every day we work together, Lieutenant.” There’s a beat of quiet as he expertly manoeuvres his jet toward the correct runway.

“And how sexy your voice is?” He goes on, sounding vaguely distracted.

“Once again, Lieutenant, this is not a commercial airline.” You respond, twirling your hair around your finger at his compliment anyway.

He doesn’t reply, and a shock of horror flickers through you as you watch the jet touch down once, something happening with his landing gear that makes the jet shudder, then seem to bounce momentarily before it drops back onto the tarmac and skids to a stop.

“Hangman, do you require the emergency crew?!” You ask quickly, eyes scanning the aircraft as it powers down fully. You wait tensely as the canopy pops up, and a broad figure jumps out, scrambling down the ladder, and once on the ground, he bends low to get a look at the problem.

“No, Polly, thank you. Seems the landing gear malfunctioned, must’ve been in a position to sustain damage once I landed…” his voice trails off, and you watch him straighten, and greet the ground crew who’d raced over to help.

“Glad you’re safe, Lieutenant. Tower out.” You say as he begins discussing with the crew, but briefly turns up toward the tower and raises a hand.

You let out a sigh of relief and settle back in your seat.

–

Around lunch time you make your way down to the tarmac. Hangman’s jet had been cleared off some time ago, and by now you know reports would have been filed, including your own, and his aircraft will have been taken in for inspection and repairs. You’re milling around the ‘crash’ site, inspecting the scrape marks left behind when you hear footsteps from behind approaching you.

“Can I help you ma’am?”

You know his voice immediately, but you know his face too, and when you at last turn back to him you’re graced by the sight of it, bright and unworried, despite the accident he’d had earlier.

“Oh, don’t mind me! I just watched someone bounce their jet off my tarmac earlier, just checking for potholes,” you tell him wrly. It takes a moment, but his face flashes with recognition and soon he’s taking a step towards you.

“Polly?!” Hangman asks, sounding surprised. You hum in response, then round on him.

“Where is it that you found your qualifications, Liuetenant? We should probably return them,” you tease him. Hangman only takes up a stance and stretches his arms out, his flight suit stretching desperately around his biceps as he does.

“Oh, Polly, if I’d known that was all it took to get you down here, I’d have started chipping bits off months ago,” he flirts shamelessly. You smile at him but don’t speak and after a moment, he drops his arms again, crossing them over his chest instead and blinking at you curiously. “What?” he asks.

Your smile grows, and you shake your head at him.

“Your terrible lines work better when I can see you, that's all,” you inform him, making him uncross his arms and laugh.

“I would say that’s generally the case, even if a guy ain’t me,” he replies coolly. You only shake your head again, and look back out at the expanse of tarmac ahead of you.

“Thanks to you getting your pilots lisence off the back of a cereal box, we’ve ruined our Sleepless in Seattle thing,” you say with a forlorn sigh.

When you look back at Hangman he’s frowning at you in confusion.

“Our what?” he asks. You roll your eyes and turn to face him fully at last, waving your hand as you speak.

“You know, our Sleepless in Seattle thing. We talk all this time, but never meet, and if we cross paths, we don’t realise it? It’s ruined now,” you accuse him lightly. Hangman hums, and seems to think for a moment.

“I get to be Meg Ryan in this situation, right?” he says, making you chortle.

“Well you’d have to be. No way I’d leave 90s Bill Pullman!”

“Well, what if we’re not Sleepless in Seattle? What if we’re more… When Harry Met Sally?” he suggests. You squint at him.

“Have you seen that film? I’m not sure that’s the implication you want to go for…” you ask him, making him falter for a moment.

“That’s the one with the emails right?” he responds unsurely. You laugh again, and shake your head.

“No, that’s You’ve Got Mail.”

“What the hell did I just suggest, then?” 

You stare at him for a moment, and can’t stop yourself from grinning up at him.

“More or less not speaking for like ten years, but on the rare occasion we do meet up, we argue,” you tell him, watching him frown even deeper, and shake his own head this time.

“That would be kinda hard, considering you’re the voice in my head,” he says.

“Oh, so we’re doing Her now!”

Hangman fixes you with a deadpan expression and a slightly smirk.

“I don’t even want to know.”

You laugh at him, and begin walking, unsurprised when he immediately joins you, falling into step at your side. “So,” he begins again after a moment, peering down at you. “Despite playing hacky sack on your tarmac, you still gonna let me take you out?”

You falter briefly, but keep walking, this time glancing up at him.

“I didn’t think you were being serious all those times you asked me out,” you don’t bother hiding your surprise. Hangman looks back at you, squinting, and cocks his head.

“At this point I think you’ve shot me down more than Dagger combined, why would I not be serious?” he asks you, sounding oddly serious. You chuckle.

“Right, so, say if, I don’t know, Rooster got a few more hits on you, you wouldn’t leave me hangin’ would you?” you know you’ll say yes, but you can’t help but tease him a little longer.

Hangman raises an eyebrow at you and grins wide and beautiful.

“You? Never,” he says. “Mostly because I’m legally obligated to respond when you speak to me.”

You lift your own eyebrow and fix him with a wry smile.

“I like that in a man.”

Hangman laughs.

–

“I mean it, your voice is sexy,” Jake tells you once he’s sat back down from replacing your drinks. You can’t help but chortle and stir your cocktail with the straw.

“Really? Me telling you to line up and wait in the pattern gets you going?” you ask. Jake grins, but nods very seriously as he takes a short sip of his beer.

“Absolutely. I also like when you tell me about the weather and conditions, and direct me to land.”

Leaning forward with your elbows on the table between you, you put your chin in your hands.

“I liek when you flirt with me,” you begin, waiting for him to smirk at you before continuing on. “And you don’t realise my boss is in the room, so I just have to respond ‘roger’ and ‘acknowledged’ whenever you say something stupid,” you finish. Jake rolls his eyes and leans forward to meet you.

“To be fair, I’d probably be saying something stupid anyway,” he tells you.

You have to let out a laugh at that and finally lean back again.

“Oh yeah, that reminds me, are you ever gonna tell us all how to ‘bury a fossil’? You know, those things that you famously dig up and do not bury?” you tease, earning another eyeroll. Jake shrugs and copies your movements.

“I foretold Mav’s career comeback, didn’t I?”

You laugh again, but this time, get a good look at him sitting casually across from you, out of uniform and seemingly more relaxed than you’ve ever seen, or heard.

“I like your voice too,” you tell him at last, smiling a little at how he seems to preen at your praise. “Your accent is more pronounced face-to-face though, and you don’t sound like you’re performing all the time.”

Jake takes a sip of his beer and shrugs again.

“Can’t be Hangman all the time,” he says. You make a face.

“I like Hangman. He entertains me at work… but I think I like the guy who hasn’t seen When Harry Met Sally, and has a Fisher-Price pilot's lisence even more.”

Jake laughs and nods at you.

“Splash one,” he says before he leans in to you again. “Toddler’s generally have pretty good taste, in my opinion, they’re all about shapes and colours and boobs… can’t fault ‘em!”

You have to laugh and concede that at least, the two of you clinking drinks before you continue to flirt and chat for the rest of the evening.

When Jake drops you back at yours, you invite him inside, under the guise of lending him your DVD copy of When Harry Met Sally, but when he simply lingers in your living room, you start to consider other tactics.

“Jake?” you say, standing up from ‘searching’ your stack of DVD’s and facing him. “This is the part where you save me from admitting I don’t really own a physical copy of the film by having sex with me,” you inform him dutifully, watching as he straightens up and blinks at you. Then, he’s shaking his head, smiling, and taking a step closer toward you.

“I guess every good rom-com does have an earth shattering lie at its core, doesn’t it?” he steps closer, and this time, anchors his hands at your waist, tugging you into him a little more.

“Let's skip the conflict part and go straight to the happy ending, shall we?”

[mxrbiid]

this is a rollie pollie appreciation post

[kadwrites]

different yet the same | T.S

previous part | next part

or check out the series masterlist

summary ; nothing stays the same, but how can you explain that to the people you love?

warnings ; arranged marriage!trope, soft!tommy, reader has a voice kink? idk, typos probably, reader likes starting shit, REALLY slow burn.

a/n ; let me know what you think<3, also keep in mind that my first language is not english <3

-

you felt like you were overheating, his hand was barely even touching your lower back but you could definitely feel it. he led you back to the office, to grab his coat , where he finally stepped away from you.

"ya didn't 'ave to do that" you needed to cut the tension

"do what?" he was putting on his coat

"fire 'er."

he stopped in his place , looking back at you with a raised brow "you'd rather i keep 'er ?"

you really wouldn't "i mean...." you trail off, trying to find the right words

he steps closer, until he's right before you. a little too close maybe "what do ya mean?" his voice is soft and deep.

it really didn't help you , that his voice had that much of an affect on you. "would ya've fired 'er if she spoke this way to anyone else ?"

"like who?"

"i don't know, anyone else." you repeat your words

"but she didn't say that to anyone else" his gaze was so intense, it felt like you couldn't take your own eyes off his "she said it to you"

he then took a step past you before you spoke again "did ya do it because she offended me or was it because it might've hurt your reputation?"

he stops again and sighs when he closes his eyes , he turns "why are ya fightin' me on this?"

"i'm not!" you chuckle "i'm just wonderin'..."

"well stop wonderin' , we got shit to do. let's go" he motions with his hand and heads for the door, you huff and follow him.

but your questions don't stop there. once you're in the car , you're back at it and with more resilience.

"why 'aven't i met your family yet?" you're in the passenger seat, your arms crossed as he drives

"jesus fucking christ" he mumbles, a cigarette hanging from his mouth "what's gotten into ya today , eh?" he glances at you

"what? i'm just trying to make conversation" you try to sound as innocent as you can.

"ya've met polly, 'ave't ya?" he takes a drag of his cigarette, smoke blowing in the air "there ya go, she's family."

"polly doesn't count , i knew 'er as a child. before i knew ya."

"she's my aunt , how does she not count?" his brows furrow and he laughs

"ya've brothers, and a sister, and sisters in law." you're not giving up, "ya've met my family already , why don't ya want me to meet yours?"

"i barely did" he looks at you , then back at the road "they don't exactly like my company now , do they?"

"they're shy!"

he looks at you with a half smile, as if asking you if you're serious "really?"

"come on tommy, i'm serious. how am i going to marry into a family that i don't know?"

"you're not marrying my family are ya? you're marrying me"

"tommy" you click your tongue

"why do ya want to meet them so badly?"

"i just..... i've always wanted to be close to my husband's family when i'd get married."

he sighs , looking back at the road "it'll take time for them to warm up to ya and they're hardly as polite as your lovely family is" he mumbles with a sarcastic tone

"probably" you nod "but i do want to meet them"

"fine, don't say i 'aven't warned ya." he sighs again, "i'll see what i can do"

"mum says that thomas shelby proposed to ya" sarah and amy are in your room, they're celest's daughters.

"mhm" you're still in bed and they're beside you. your sister's children are rascals, just like their mom they, don't knock when they come in, they lay in your bed with you and wake you up whenever they're bored. you're eyes are still closed when you mumble, not that it would stop them from pestering you. you try to hang on to any crumb of sleep you can get.

"can we see the ring?" amy asks , you can hear the smile in her voice.

you raise your hand, wiggling your ring finger. at her.

you tried to keep this whole thing from them, to not let them know what really happened. they're smarter than you think though. after all , sarah is already 14 and amy is 13. they already have an idea, they just never wanted to bring it up.

"oh my god..." amy's voice is filled with excitement and a little bit of disbelief "is this a real diamond?"

"of course it fucking is." you grumble. you turn, so you're laying on your side but facing them now

"are ya happy?" sarah pulls the covers, getting under them next to you

"why wouldn't i be ?" you chuckle sleepily "i'm gonna be fucking rich" you wiggle your brows

they both chuckle with you, but they are still looking at you with a type of look, and you know what it meant.

"mum says that his house is far , that we wouldn't see ya as often." amy mumbles

"your mum is dramatic. of course ya will." you reassured them, but the thing is you didn't even know how life would be after your wedding. "ya're not getting rid of me that easy."

"are ya nervous?"

"a little bit yeah" you shrugs "but it's normal, your mum was nervous too ya know? she'd cry every time she saw me." you say with a snort "and look at 'er, she still comes over every other day."

"but that's different isn't it?" amy dares to ask

"what is different?" you ask softly

"everything is going to be different" she mutters and you can feel your heart crack at that "this wedding is different, you're marrying ... 'im, and moving away, and it'll be different." her voice cracks, and she looks away

"nothing is going to be different amy..." you get up, and scoot next to them "but even if things change i'll still be me, ya'll still 'ave me"

sarah leans her head on your shoulder "i'll miss ya"

you look at her then at amy, "aww , hey now" you hug her, laughing as you kiss her head "i'm not going anywhere," you speak into her hair

-

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