#Personalized Newborn Hats

[comfymommy]

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[spatialwave]

"𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓸𝓷𝓵𝔂 𝓯𝓪𝓲𝓻"

pairing: pre-war cooper howard x fem!reader word count: 3k summary: you hadn’t expected to see a celebrity at your nephews birthday party, let alone america’s most recognizable cowboy star. luck seemed to be on your side when cooper howard’s attention landed right on you. warnings: mdni! smut, age difference, cooper eats you out!

you and your older sister had a sour relationship, you hadn’t quite agreed with her husband’s fixation with capitalizing on a nuclear fallout. he worked at vault-tech, some entry-level position with a promise of greater things. after a few dinners of listening to him ramble about the vaults and trying to convince you to buy your place in one, you decided to distance yourself.

but your six-year old nephew had stolen your heart since he was a newborn. you would do anything for him, even if it meant sucking up your pride and going to visit your sister for his birthday.

knowing that he was a little aspiring cowboy, you showed up dressed to impress—meaning denim jeans, cowboy boots, a button down blouse and cowboy hat. you had expected enthusiasm from the other adults, but you were greeted with them all in their sunday’s best. 

this was going to be a long saturday afternoon.

you were sitting inside your sister’s house, having kept yourself away from the partygoers as you picked at the hot dog on your paper plate. a birthday delicacy.

just as you were about to call it a day and make haste for the door, you heard the sound of kids yelling excitedly outside where the party had migrated. you hadn’t been told that there was entertainment and curiosity bubbled inside you. a little peak would hurt.

just as you reached the backyard, standing up on the white-painted porch, your eyes landed on the man sitting atop a horse with a lasso spinning effortlessly around his body. of course your sister managed to hire an actual cowboy.

with a smirk on your lips, you watched with a tiny smile—eyes growing wide when you recognized the face hidden behind the hat. 

that was fucking cooper howard.

you felt your heart skip a beat as you stepped toward the staircase, looking over the sea of parents and children as the movie star put on a beautiful display of his talents. you had heard the news stories from women gossiping in your workplace, how cooper howard was going through a tough divorce with his wife… who worked for vault-tech.

it then made sense how your brother-in-law scored this gig.

speculating wasn’t going to do you any good, and you likely weren’t going to get any answers, so you pushed thoughts of cooper’s personal life out of your head and instead admired him. who cared why he was there? you were happy to be within the same vicinity as the handsome man. he was just as beautiful in-person as he was on the television screen, big pearly whites shining as he smiled.

then, his brown eyes met yours, even over the crowd of people that he could let his gaze linger on. you felt your body shiver as you both shared a long stare, feeling vulnerable under his eyes and missing it when he instead looked down at a young boy that was cheering for him.

with red cheeks and a giddy smile on your lips, you kept watching, unable to look away. even after he’d gotten off the horse and helped a few children sit atop and take them for a short little walk around the backyard.

cooper was good with the children, you found yourself unable to look away and making little mental notes of what kind of man he was. so far, he was kind, gentle and humble.

before you could indulge any further, your sister sprung up in your line of sight and left you huffy.

“would you be a darling and go into bruce’s car to get donny’s present?” she asked so sweetly, “he wanted to keep it as hidden as possible.”

“i was enjoying the show,” you grumbled, watching as cooper had started to wrap up after taking a few photos with your nephew and a handful of the other kids.

“oh, hush. here.” your sister shoved the vehicle keys into your hand, “just leave the present inside, we’ll be there in a few minutes once the entertainment is gone.”

you hadn’t even gotten the energy to call your sister out for labelling cooper as just ‘entertainment’. you just let out a sigh and followed her orders, grabbing the present out from the convertible and placing it neatly on the large stack of presents on the kitchen island.

your small gift bag was starting to look shameful compared to some of the large, wrapped boxes.

“christ,” you muttered to yourself as you let out a defeated breath.

you made way for the front door, digging in the pockets of your jeans and retrieving a cigarette as you stepped foot onto the front porch. just as you lit it and moved down the short stairs, you glanced ahead and were greeted by none other than cooper howard walking across the large driveway.

“miss,” he smiled at you out of courtesy, giving a nod of acknowledgement as he continued to lead his horse past you and toward the trailer hooked up behind his vehicle.

“hello,” you murmured, exhaling smoke from your lungs as you watched him with wide eyes—starstruck. after a few moments of watching him you mustered up the courage to follow behind him, though doing your best not to disturb the horse and get a prompt kick in the head, “mr. howard?”

the older man looked over his shoulder, hands busy guiding his horse as he stopped just outside the trailer. 

“hm?” he hummed, turning slowly to face you, that charismatic smile on his lips, “please, just call me cooper,” his voice drawled with a thick southern accent, “what can i do for a pretty cowgirl, such as yourself?”

you felt your cheeks warm up at his words, wondering if he was flirting or just being overly kind. you hadn’t met a ton of celebrities in your day, so you hadn’t the slightest clue.

“oh, i’m not a cowgirl,” you laughed softly, looking down at your outfit and then back up to cooper, “it’s my nephew’s birthday and i suppose i took the dress nice requirement the wrong way.” you managed to make cooper chuckle, a grin forming along his lips as he tied off his horse to the trailer and able to give you much of his attention. 

“well, if i got to choose, you’re definitely the best dressed today. you had me convinced that you’d be coming for my job,” he poked fun at you.

cooper howard had always been a faithful man, but barb’s betrayal was something he’d never be able to forgive. he was also a man with needs, so when a young woman approached him with a naive look in her eyes, he couldn’t help but pounce at the opportunity for some flirting. it helped with his ego, at least, having slowly deflated after needing to take on these entertainment gigs just to pay alimony to his ex-wife.

it wasn’t fair that she’d manage to take most of his assets, the money, the home—full custody of janey with very little visitation. it was brutal, but he was making it work. he’d be having the weekend with his daughter soon enough.

he could be content with you right now, in fact, he desperately needed the distraction.

“if it makes you feel better i can’t even ride a horse,” you said through a giggle, “i won’t be coming for your job anytime soon.”

a breathy laugh came from cooper as he settled a hand on his hip, “that’s reassuring,” he smiled with thinned lips, “you’d certainly take away attention from me.”

there it was again, was he flirting with you? was cooper howard actually flirting with you?

“i don’t know about that,” you spoke quietly, flicking off the build up of ash on the cigarette you hadn’t been smoking, “sorry, i’ll let you get all packed up. i’m sure you’re a busy man. i just wanted to let you know that i’m a big fan of your movies,” you tried so hard to keep a calm and cool composure, “you’re, uh… a great actor.”

“why, that’s very kind of you, miss,” cooper kept a smile on his lips as he looked over you, brushing his hands off on his brown corduroy pants and clearing his throat, “would you happen to have an extra cigarette i may be able to take off your hands? i seem to have left mine at home.”

you nodded, reaching for the pack in your pocket so you could pull one out and pass it to the older man, a smile breaking on your lips when his fingers brushed against yours.

“thank you,” he said smoothly, eyes flickering to follow your hands as you pulled out a lighter for him. he leaned forward with the cigarette between his lips, meeting your gaze as the flame lit it nicely and smoke bellowed from his lips, “you are a lifesaver, darlin’, i’m usually more prepared than this.”

“it’s no worries at all, my pleasure. really.” you took a step back from him, cheeks burning hot as you shoved the lighter back into your pocket and butted out the cigarette you had completely neglected.

“how about i treat you for a drink sometime,” he spoke, tilting his head curiously, “it’s only fair, don’t you think?”

cooper was more than satisfied to see the way you had looked so surprised, your eyes widening and lips curving into a small smile. somewhere deep inside, he knew this was wrong. you were a young thing, not much older than a university graduate, if that. cooper? well, he was at least twenty years your senior.

then, he remembered, it’s not like he had anyone but himself to please. his ex-wife had managed to get his reputation buried so deep that he couldn’t book anymore gigs, hell, not even a lousy commercial. his agent would be letting him go soon, too, he knew it.

there was nothing to lose here.

“a drink?” you questioned, “like a date?”

you were so damn endearing.

honestly, you were convinced that something had happened at your nephew’s birthday. maybe you had walked too close to the horse, and it did end up giving you a swift kick to the head. everything happening was just your wildest dreams as you lay in a hospital in the deepest of comas. it was easier to than believing you were actually sitting with cooper howard in a darkened bar, a place much too expensive for you, but you supposed these were the perks of being famous.

you sat in a velvet covered seat right at the long bar, one leg crossed over the other in an attempt to make yourself feel like you were fancy enough to belong here. you were just thankful that you had a friend who was a seamstress, able to turn a long, frumpy black dress into something that hugged your curves.

it wasn’t every day a movie star asked you out.

“what do you do for work?” cooper leaned his elbow against the bar top, a cigarette in his left hand and glass of whiskey in the other, “other than being a professional cowgirl, of course.” 

“i’m just finishing up the last bit of my schooling,” you replied, pulling the martini glass from your lips where a layer of red lipstick marked the glass—your second drink, “going to be a nurse.”

“now, that’s a very commendable line of work,” cooper straightened up, setting down his now empty glass full of half-melted ice, “i’m certain you’ll get a lot of joy out of savin’ peoples lives.”

“i hope so,” you smiled, quite proud of your career choices, “i mean, it’s no movie star, though.”

cooper let out a low laugh, dropping his gaze for a moment as he put out his cigarette in an ashtray, “let me just tell you that being a movie star isn’t all it’s made out to be,” he spoke through a breathy chuckle.

you furrowed your brows slightly, chewing on your bottom lips as you watched him. well, at least he was a modest man. “why aren’t you in movies anymore?” you bit the bullet with your question, “i haven’t seen you in anything new since you started doing the ads for vault-tech.”

a heavy breath escaped cooper’s nostrils as he met your eyes, his smile gone, “you see, that’s a can of worms we oughta’ keep shut, if you don’t mind.”

“i’m sorry,” you were filled with immense regret, seeing the discomfort on coopers face, “i’ve been told i’m too nosy for my own good.”

“no, don’t apologize, darlin’. how were you supposed to know without asking?” cooper reassured you, reaching forward to place his hand on your bare knee, peaking out from the provocative slit that went up the length of your dress, “maybe someday i’ll share.”

you felt your heart skip a beat when his calloused hand rested over the smooth skin of your leg, sending shivers up your spine and making you wonder just where this night would lead. a sheepish laugh escaped your lips as you toyed with the toothpick in your martini, punctured through an olive, “someday? i wasn’t expecting a second date.”

“you weren’t?” cooper grinned, god, you loved his smile, “i thought this was goin’ well.”

“maybe if i have a third drink in me i’ll be more inclined to go on that second date with you,” you teased, thankful for the courage the drinks were giving you.

“why don’t i make you that third at my place? i can mix you up a better martini than here,” he squeezed your knee, his thumb brushing along your skin and all you could do was nod.

the third drink never came, but that was okay. with your lips parted and hands in cooper’s hair, you could care less about a dirty martini when his face was buried between your thighs and your dress pushed up to your hips. you’d always been a lucky girl, but nothing would ever top this.

“oh,” you whimpered, fingers tightening in his hair as his tongue lapped against your folds, the tip flicking against your swollen, sensitive clit, “just like that,” you cooed, your head falling back against the cushion as you closed your eyes and focused on nothing except the pleasure flowing through you. 

cooper had long forgotten the worries that tried to rot his mind because for once in months he felt something, a warmth in his stomach—hope. even as war loomed overhead and life seemed dire, you had walked into his life. someone fun, a pretty girl who could keep his troubles away for a night.

his hands gripped at your outer thighs, fingers digging into your skin as he ate you out with the expertise he’d gained throughout the years. quickly learning what made you moan and squirm under his touch.

“fuck,” you cried out, whimpering as your thighs pressed against the sides of his head as you neared climax, “i’m going to cum.”

“no one’s stopping you, angel,” he breathed warmly against your cunt, one hand pulling from your thigh so he could press a digit inside you and coax out sweet sounds from your lips. he pulled back as a second finger joined in, his mouth and chin glistening from your juices, “show me those pretty eyes of yours.”

you were quick to listen, using your strength to lift your head up and look down at cooper. he looked glorious with tousled hair and pink cheeks, fingers fucking you with a practiced touch. 

you locked your eyes on him as you breathed heavily through pouted lips. “cooper,” you whined loudly when his thumb made quick circles over your clit and bringing you closer to the edge, fingers tugging on his hair as your back arched and the coil inside your stomach released.

your voice cracked as you said his name, a cry of pleasure coming deep from your throat as you came. you pulsed and contracted around his fingers, hips vibrating as he didn’t let up, not in the slightest. he wanted to see how your face twisted with pleasure when you became overstimulated, grinning as you grabbed at his hands in an attempt to slow his movements. 

he listened, his fingers coming to a stop and soon pulling out from you as his lips pressed chaste kisses to your inner thighs while you fell back into the sofa and let out a shaky sigh.

“i have to be dreaming,” you breathed out, hardly able to keep your eyes open as you felt cooper shift so he could sit up and crawl over your body.

“too good to be true?” cooper questioned with a teasing tone, holding himself above you as you pressed your hands to his cheeks.

“very much so,” you smiled, your breath evening out, “cooper, i think you should rest back and let me do some work now,” you hummed as you pressed a hand to his chest and began to push him until he was resting against the arm of the sofa.

cooper showed a toothy, lopsided grin as he watched with intrigue glimmering in his eyes, happily looking you up and down as you moved from your spot on the couch until you were kneeling on the carpeted floor in front of him, “you really don’t need to,” he said, though, he was only being polite. he wouldn’t say no to this.

“aw, come on, cooper,” you whispered, your hands on his clothed thighs, slowly moving up until they could tackle his belt buckle, “it’s only fair.”

“shit,” cooper hissed, eyes fluttering shut as he felt your hands free his erection from the confines of his suit pants.

he certainly hoped for a second date.

[lundenloves]

DAD SIMON AND THE 141 VISITING TO CHECK THE KID OUT FOR THE FIRST TIME PLAPSSLSLSPSLSLSK AND HE GETS SO JEALOUS WHEN OTHERS HOLD HIS SWEET BABY PATOOTIE PRINCesss

↳ no warnings | f!reader | 1.6k

dad!simon masterlist | taglist

Anon, I may have strayed from your original thoughts a little. I hold my hands up. At this point, he has been back and had time with her already this is just 141 meeting her. And it's very? Thought-provoking? Possibly not how you imagined? Alas, voila.

Having a newborn allowed for zero quiet. Nothing of the sort was even imagined, sleep was out the window and tiredness was the new trend. It became tougher when Simon had to go back to work, leaving you behind with a long apology and his credit card. What was the card for? You weren’t sure, but made sure it was used like fuck. £17.32 on McDonald’s delivery didn’t seem as painful with his money.

And that’s exactly what you were doing, happily. Baby sleeping on your almost bare chest with a haul of food around you in bed. It was only seven but you had no reason to be up and about, and the reality tv wasn’t going to catch up on itself.

In fact, you were about to reach the episode climax of Love Island. Someone had been mugged off and the producers were keen on making a drama of it, issuing a re-coupling. But. Right before you could skip the credits and fast-track to the next episode, the bedroom door swung open and you screamed. Waking your daughter who naturally began to cry.

"Fucking hell." You frowned at Simon who had quickly shut the door behind him upon seeing you. He wasn't due back till tomorrow. "Scared me.” The scold in your voice was one he ignored, picking up a milk-stained shirt from the floor.

“Put something on, christ.” His voice gruff as he shrugged his jacket off and reached for another t-shirt after wearily tossing the other back to the floor, holding it out. “What, Me?” Black-painted eyes narrowed at you upon holding his child out to him, asking for a trade.

“No. The other person in the room.” You deadpanned, widening your eyes in silent effort for him to take her. “Yes, you.” He did as told, looking down at his daughter blankly. “What’s the rush anyway.”

Although, your question was answered by a loud echo of laughs from downstairs. “All of them?” In reference to the only three men it could be.

“I didn’t agree.” He met your eyes, holding the baby back out to you for the brief second you passed him. Sauntering out to the hallway before he had called your name stiffly, eyes pleading relief of the absolute fucking threat that was his baby. “Take her.”

“You’re fine.” You waved a hand, walking downstairs with him reluctantly following.

It was a shame really, you couldn’t help but snort at the way he held her so high up his chest. “Don’t let Johnny hog her.” Was the only instruction you gave, wandering through to the kitchen where his unit were stood.

“Alright?” The Scot rubbed your shoulder in greeting, “Solid birth n’ all that?” His brows furrowed in genuine care although the question was worded oddly.

“Solid. Johnny.”

He tsked, clutching a hand to his opposite bicep. “Tends to be like that, ae.”

“Speaking from experience?”

He laughed although his eyes fell from yours to over your shoulder. Price held his hand on your back in acknowledgment, his eyes softening with a nod your way. “Christ.” He muttered at the sight in Simon’s arms, taking his hand back and removing his hat. “Congratulations.”

Gaz wrapped an arm around you, leaning his head atop of yours on his shoulder. “It’s mad.” He said more to himself than anyone else, catching eyes with Soap who for once was lost on what to say.

Simon’s eyes were stuck on the baby in his arms, refusing to look up and see the group reaction. Her small hand reached upward, and his finger met her halfway, face unchanged as she wrapped her hand around it. No one said or did anything, only Price who took a step forward to pat the lieutenant's shoulder. The moment was tender, and understood by everyone as such a thing even by Johnny who crossed his arms over his chest and contrastingly pout his bottom lip out to you. “You wanna hold her?” You spoke to him, crossing the space to Simon who had finally looked up. 

“Go on, then.” He pushed his jacket off, hanging it on the back of the kitchen chair. Simon’s eyes met Soap’s, a look of trust, threat and relief spread across his face when you had prompted him to hand her over. “Just a wee thing, ae?” He comfortably took her from Ghost, gently bouncing her and smiling when she had cooed.

“Tiny.” Gaz added, looking to Simon who shifted in his spot - looking around the room, finding comfort in anything other than the tiny being. He was still so unsure of himself. Arms crossed together over his chest in anxious replacement of the tac vest he would usually slot his thumbs into. “Fresh to the world.” 

“Five weeks old.” You looked at Gaz. “Brand. New.”

He shook his head at the idea of a baby, looking to Price who was subtly enough fixated on his lieutenant. “How’re you doing, Simon?” He asked firmly, in a tone Simon wouldn’t ignore or sigh at, one he recognised as important. A tone of order.

“Fine.” He kept it brief, locking eyes with Price who nodded slowly. 

It was hard to read Simon. Period. Even after years being with him, you still couldn’t predict the way he was feeling or what he was going to say about a situation. He distanced himself from his daughter the first few days, intentionally waiting until you woke to sort her out instead of facing himself and his past in the form of the harmless baby.

His allowed paternity leave wasn’t granted extension of more than a week, therefore he left you. And admittedly, although he wouldn’t ever say it, he was glad to get some time away. It had only been a week and he was already itching to be alone, no words you spoke could comfort him. Only the mindless living of a deployment. His desired remedy. 

Ghost was dead silent that whole mission. The unit knew why, although they were tightly instructed by Price to keep their mouths shut. Not to even ask about the kid. So they didn’t, not until today, when it was brought up by the man himself. “Ask about the kid, then.” He said gruffly, unlacing his boots and stomping his feet wide of each other, eyes darting between the three men opposite him.

“She alright, yeah?” Soap asked, receiving a dull nod. 

“We’d love to meet her sometime.” Price continued cautiously, looking to Simon who then nodded, eyes dropping to his boots. There was a moment of silence before he had spoken up in answer to Price, elbows rest on his knees, hands clasped together and rubbing against his mouth. “You don’t live too far from base do you?”

“An hour.” He cleared his throat, “I live an hour away.” 

“We could stop by,” Price was the one to suggest it, dipping to reach a bag behind Soap’s drawer. “This is, from, us.” He rubbed the back of his neck, holding the small gift bag out to Ghost who only looked up at it. 

“I’m going home tonight.” He said matter of factly. “Just.” A sigh. “Tail me and hand it in to her, she’ll appreciate it better than I will.” Soap smirked at Simon’s falsified reluctance, a hidden invite into his lieutenant's domestic life was on the table and of course he jumped at it. 

And you? You knew Simon had given a skeleton of an invite. It was obvious. 

So now, as your daughter had been passed to Price from Gaz, it felt oddly comforting to you. For Simon, you couldn’t tell as much from the way he was constantly sighing and moving in his spot - obviously discomforted by the idea of his unit being in such an intimate space of his but it was blown over by the end of the short visit. “She’s going to be tall.” Price tilted his head at the baby, thumb swiping across her small arm.

“Oh aye.” Johnny nodded, nudging Simon who stared down at her. “Think she’ll have your eyes?” His efforts granted a shrug from the man next to him.

“The colour keeps changing, but,” You caressed her head in Price’s arms, “They are his shape.” The tone of your voice warming Simon enough for the thought of a smile, the side of his lip curling just enough. 

Gaz nodded to a bag Soap had left on the counter, “There’s some stuff. We didn’t get much time.” He reached for it, holding it out to you. The purpose of the trip.

“And there’s a card with some money.” Johnny added, “See yous’ round the New Year for the wee yin.” The bag had generic baby gifts inside, although it swelled your heart to think of three large military men shopping around for each thing inside

And the card was a treasure in itself, one you would certainly keep, handing it to Simon so you could hug Gaz and Soap, receiving a kiss to your cheek from Price after taking the baby back. “Maybe see you lot closer to Christmas?” You asked, bouncing your daughter when she had begun to stir.

“Course.” Price nodded to Simon, following the other two out the door. You heard them talking about the baby from the threshold, watching as they piled into their respective cars and pulled off with waves and a single salute from Soap. Because, Soap.

Simon sighed once the door was shut, looking down at you. There was something between warmth and sympathy in his eyes, wrapping an arm around the back of your neck and kissing your temple. “You putting this up?” He mumbled, holding out the card before pressing his thumb and pointer finger together against his daughter’s tiny feet in sudden affection. 

“On the mantel for now, probably.” You rubbed his arm, following him through to the living room. 

There was new lightheartedness around him after they had left. Like having his unit meeting his daughter was somehow a weight that had finally been shrugged off after the fact. Even prodding a few more kisses than you would usually receive from him. His brain worked in mysterious ways, although you were not complaining. 

Not now anyway.

simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @freakonfilm @crowbird @misshoneypaper @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @abbugadu @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @liishook @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @takeomisbitch @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @mistydeyes @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkjoequinn @gressseyy

[updatingranboo]

ranboo tweet... uh

["This was such a good joke and I am appalled by the fact that it has not gone absolutely bonkers viral. I mean is comedy dead? I just dont understand how a regular human being can read the word "Greans" (A combination of green and jeans) followed by an image of, well, green jeans, and not absolutely evacuate themselves in laughter.

I believe this has something to do with the fact that comedy as we know it is dying. It has become too mainstream in todays media and that is the main problem. Gone are the days where silly little guys in their silly little hop hats are able to go "knock knock" and absolutely change the world. Nowadays you have to have so many things that go into a joke for it to remotely even be funny, setup, punchline the whole ordeal. Whatever happened to just a simple Practicality joke? Whatever happened to just being able to slap someone and be the headlining act?

The world is so full of so called "comedians" these days it makes me sick. All these people do is spend hours writing and practicing their act in order to try and sway an audience to have a good time listening to their words. For SHAME! Comedy used to be just two people on a stage just slapping eachother and going "knock knock" for twenty hours. Whatever happened to the good ol days where people just laughed at whatever someone said because their brain hadnt fully developed?

This is why I believe that I am going to start performing my comedy acts to a bunch of babies. An absolute hoard of newborns. I will make my jokes to them and they will laugh for they truly understand what humor should be. I will go to a hospital in that little room they have where it is very easy to switch said babies and cause a bit of a ruckus, but instead of doing that (very funny joke) I will simply perform for them and relish in their cheers and guffaws.

It is sad that one has to turn to performing to just babies in order for the world to understand the complexity of ones said humor, but alas if its what I must do its what I must do. Maybe one day we will revert back to absolute comedy anarchy, where the chicken has not yet crossed the road, but until then I will continue to strive and push forward in this dark age of comedy.

Maybe a complete reset of what we find funny is in order, maybe we have lost what humor once was for us. We obviously have considering my VERY FUNNY TWEET does not have a bazillion likes and has not spun off at least 30 million movie deals. (Please note that this joke is satire, and Ranboo stands in solidarity with the SAG-AFTRA strikes. Support actors and writers. -A message from Ranboo)

I spent time and effort making this tweet, I saw the green jeans in front of my eyes (which are very squishy) and my neurons fired and made this absolute gem of a joke. I was excited to share it with the world, I tweeted it nearly right after I saw it, excited to see what new adventures this tweet could bring me. I went to bed all cozy smiling like a child on christmas eve night, excited for the morning. When I woke I turned to check my phone instantly, my eyes racing to see the like total. What would it be? 500k? A million? I was surprised that my dms hadnt blown up with a personal message from every billionaire going "let me give you all of my money I can never make anything as good as your "Greans" tweet" but It must have been a glitch.

I was appalled to see that my tweet had only 30K??? 30K for the pinnacle of all of human achievement? A slap in the face of innovation is what it felt like. Like when that thomas edison guy ate a stolen lightbulb or something idk what he did really but I remember the person who made that lightbulb which he ate probably felt really sad and I felt really sad so I felt a deep connection with that person.

I quickly fell into a great depression, this is what all of my life had lead up to: one sad tweet. I didnt see the outside for years because of this tweet. I thought to myself "why would they do this?", "Isnt humanity supposed to be kind, supportive, and have a sense of humor when it comes to differently colored jean jokes?" (dcjj as I call them), and "Man I should probably have a burger" (I did) (very yummy) but as I ate my burger all I could taste were my TEARS as I chomped into it from the top down. It felt like I couldnt do anything right. Until thats when it hit me.

Im not the problem, EVERYONE ELSE IS! My humor isnt "bad" or "unfunny" or "makes me want to find a microwave and cause it to malfunction so I either become the hulk or die" (Please do not try this. -Another Ranboo message) It has to be that simply I am so far ahead in the world when it comes to comedy that my time has simply just not yet come! My jokes will be funny to a different generation, which will be frowned upon at first but I will quickly be welcomed with open arms, and told that I am an innovator, a true scholar of all that is funny.

And so I wait for that day. I wait for the day that people look back on my Greans tweet and realize, that without a doubt that it is the funniest thing that they have ever seen. The problem is not with my joke, the problem is with the world, and thats what makes humanity beautiful, is that it evolves, it changes, it doesnt stick to its mindset that a tweet that has the word "Greans" followed by a pair of green jeans doesnt get a BAZILLION LIKES! I wait for that day, and for those of you who are with me, I hope you wait patiently as well. Stay strong."]

[marksbear2]

COOPER ‘THE GHOUL’ HOWARD X MALE READER

Headcanons!!

I really recommend watching fallout, I’ve been so in love with it and especially my man Cooper.

Warnings!! ⚠️ Some headcanons will include smut!! It’ll be a mix of fluff and smut!!! And some will before the nuke. Includes Gn, FTM of Afab reader, and male reader. ⚠️

— He has a hate and love relationship with you whenever you mock his accent. It really throws him off during a argument. It makes him lose his thought process.

— When your not doing it in a middle of a argument he finds it cute and attractive. He starts chuckling and smiling like some teenage girl.

— He threatens you sometimes saying he’ll tie you up and leave you for dead or raiders or scavengers to find and kill. 

— He’s been protective of you even before doomsday. He hates anyone even standing to close to you, or when you help survivors.

— Often puts his cowboy hat on you and tells you the ‘Cowboy hat rule’ and you fall for it every time

— You and him making out while his bounty is on the floor tied up. You and him disappearing off somewhere leaving the bounty just to come back with clothes a mess and wrinkly with either you or him with a limp or wiping the corners of yours mouths.

— Him manhandling and being rough with his bounties to show off to you and to get you jealous.

— He often called you inside his dressing room to make out one last time before he went out and got on camera or two have a quick fuck trying to stay quiet so no one hears.

— He kisses you during an argument to shut you up. 

— He really has a small temper and accidentally says something either hurtful or goes off on. He apologizes by going on his knees and taking your hands apologizing with his accent.

— When having sex and he gets all overstimulated he whines and his thick southern accent becomes all cracky and whining becoming completely pathetic.

— He loves it when you become out of no where dominant. 

— He secretly gets off to you just holding his lasso or any type of rope. He himself doesn’t know why it turns him on so much at the sight.

— When he’s being the dominant one he would humiliate you with his harsh and cold words forcing you to accept them and sometimes when he wants you to repeat them for him. Telling you what you are.

— Him finding a cowboy hat not exactly like his but it’s something as you two walk around in the wasteland in cool cowboy survivor like outfits.

— Really good with his fingers. 

— You probably found him first after the nuke and such looking at the damages to the his body and skin. You comforted him for years telling him that he’s still the handsome dashing movie star Cooper you first met.

— He really hates when you two have to spilt ways, even if it was for months or the smallest a day or hour. He really is attached to you and wants to be at your side every second wanting to make sure your okay. He wants to the one to protect you.

— Since you two are living in the apocalypse he rarely sees you completely lean. So the first time he saw you without dust, or blood or dust he fell in love with you all over again. Touching your body carefully and worshipping you and also like some damn dog rubbing his hard on against you.

NOW VAULTER AND TRANS (FTM) AND AFAB READER.

— If you were a vaultie he often called you it and makes fun of your outfit. He treats you exactly what he thinks of the vaulters. 

— He was the first person in years, ever since you got in the vault to have sex with. It was like losing your virginity all over again just to now some bounty hunter.

— Duding a argument he always has this one like that “Your a vaultie, you wouldn’t understand.” He knows it pisses you off but he doesn’t care especially during an argument but at the end of it he always feel regret.

— He lasso’s and drag you you around since your a vaultie and doesn’t trust you enough to be in the Outland by yourself.  He treats you like some newborn baby.

— The first time you two met you two were always going back and forth over and over to the point you got him so angry he shoved you down and forced you on your knees and fucked you right there in the outside in the middle of the open it wasn’t like anyone would see. But you were fresh out of the vault and hadn’t had sex in forever you had orgasm and orgasm he felt like the king of the world.

— He helps you with dysphoria by finding the most masculine clothes he finds off the people he kills and gives it to you as some sort of gift. 

— Doesn’t hesitate for a second and shot someone the moment they misgender you went off their tongue shooting them right in the chest then head.

— He would wrap your chest with bandages.

— Whenever your feeling down he would and very willing to eat you out whenever he can. He would bury his face in it licking and sucking your clit while he fingers you like his life dependent on it. He wouldn’t even care about his own pleasure and only focused on you. He calls your clit your cock and loves to suck it. 

— He loves seeing his cock move in and out of your pussy, he loves rubbing it against it. Always promises just to do the tip but ends up slipping it all inside. He fucks you while rubbing your clit and loves getting you all wet and excited to make you put your clothes back in.

— He would stay up all night comforting you whenever you have second thoughts about being a man.

THE END

[gay-dorito-dust]

This is so cute, please request part 2 of their newborn son, Peter B Parker visiting his best friend shyreader at the hospital, he gives her son a couple onesies like spider man theme or one that’s says “mommy boy”. I can’t stop thinking about Peter being the godfather of her son ♥️💙 https://www.tumblr.com/gay-dorito-dust/721470690012839936/i-thought-this-is-cute-but-please-request-like

A/n: Godfather Peter B Parker is in the house! I love this idea! I also added Peter being asked in being the godfather just cuz. Miguel might be ooc.

Peter came to the hospital as soon as Miguel caught wind that you were going into to labour, so it wouldn’t be of any surprise that along the way Peter had to calm down Miguel before entering the hospital because his claws were coming out and retreating constantly, his breathing was way off and just overall allowing his mind wander to less then pleasant thoughts in regards to your future together, and the dangers it’ll put you both in.

Peter somewhat understood the position Miguel was in as it was the same one he was in when MJ went into labour with Mayday. He didn’t believe he’d be a good father, hell he didn’t even know where to start in learning how to be a good parent for his unborn kid, but he was lucky to have someone like MJ to help him unpack and deconstruct every notion he had when it came to parenthood.

So he only wanted to pay that kindness forward by helping Miguel unpack and deconstruct everything because the moment he steps foot into that room, he’ll be needing to bring everything to the table because you’ll be needing him now more then ever, during quite literally the most important moment of your lives.

‘What if I forget about her?’ Miguel asked in a panic, his claws out in full display as his scarlet eyes shone with a multitude of emotions behind his specially designed glasses that helped him against combat his light sensitivity.

‘You won’t.’ Peter told him. ‘She’ll always be with you during every step of the way. Even if you may not realise it but Gabriella has always been with you…it’s impossible to forget your first child but that shouldn’t mean that your child with y/n should take her place within your heart nor play second fiddle to her.’ Peter hated seeing his friend look so lost and at war with himself because it went against everything he knew about Miguel. However Peter knew that his friend needed him and even if he tried to bite his head off for it, Peter knew he’d always be there for a friend in need.

‘What if I’m not ready to go through all this again? What if I’m not ready to loose them both, to loose everything again because I couldn’t protect them?’ Miguel asked, looking over at Peter for guidance. ‘Then what’ll I do?’ Peter squared up his jaw and furrowed his brows as he reached a hand out to grab ahold of Miguel’s shoulder, feeling him flinch beneath his touch.

‘Then you cherish them until you can’t.’ Peter told him. ‘You cherish them, you love them, you nurture them, you do everything in your power, not only as y/n’s partner but as a soon to be father and you do what we Spider-Men do best; protect those that we love until the bitter end.’

Needless to say after that, Miguel understood why Peter was so revered, not just as Spider-Man but as Peter Parker also. Yeah he may crack jokes to his expenses and take to things not as seriously as he probably should, but at the end of the day Peter always proved himself as to why he was such a guiding source for those who’ve gotten lost along the way; For he himself was lost once too and just wanted to be the person he wished he had to guide him during those moments of crisis, loss and grief.

Skipping ahead to when Gabriel is born and bursting with excitement, Peter bought a shit ton of baby onesies and even bought a matching crocheted Spider-Man hat that was closely matching the colours on Miguel’s suit for when he was older. Most of all he was excited that Mayday wasn’t going to be the only Spiderling anymore, his mind having gone rampant with all the play date ideas your son and his daughter would go on. He just so happy but upon arrival, the question you and Miguel ask of him made him all the more happier.

‘Peter, will you be Gabriel’s godfather?’ You asked, watching as his grin stretched from ear to ear.

‘Me? A godfather? What does Miguel think about this?’ He asked.

‘I was the one who pitched the idea,’ Miguel told him, still holding little Gabriel in his arms as he slept. ‘Y/n was merely the seal of approval.’ You shoot Miguel a look before looking back to your best friend, who was seemingly having a hard time comprehending that it was Miguel who wanted him as the Godfather of his son from how the gobsmacked looked upon his face.

‘So…will you be Gabriel’s godfather?’ You asked and with happy tears in his eyes, Peter took both of your hands, squeezing them tightly as he whispered his answer: ‘yes.’

‘I almost forgot, I brought Gabriel a little something.’ Peter said as he pulled away to reach for the bag he had brought and began to pull out onesie, after onesie, after onesie that you couldn’t help but think that Peter was more prepared and well equipped for Gabriel then you and Miguel. ‘You bought Gabriel baby onesies?’ You inquired playfully as you lifted one that read ‘mommy’s boy’ before putting it down to pick up at another that had the blue and red colour scheme of a Spidey suit, followed with the spider insignia on the front and back.

‘Not only that but also,’ Peter dug further into the bag and pulled out the crocheted Spider-Man hat, ‘ a Spider-Man hat?’ You asked, taking a closer look at it. Peter shrugs as he leans back into his chair. ‘This is only for when he gets bigger, as if we put this on him now it might as well cover up his entire body.’

Before Miguel could say anything, you gently nudged him in the side and smiled at your friend, ‘thank you Peter, I’ll be sure to put all of them into use, especially this one.’ You gestured to the onesie that said ‘mommy’s boy.’

Sooner or later Peter’s phone wasn’t only just dedicated to his daughter Mayday but it was also dedicated to Gabriel O’hara; his godson.

[whiskeynwriting]

The Babymoon

Agent Daddy Whiskey x Female Reader

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Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI)

Brief mention of reader’s hair (Jack just brushing it aside), established relationship/marriage, pregnant reader, dirty talk, aggressively passionate Jack (I’m W E T), degradation/teasing, breeding kink, daddy kink (ofc), spit kink, rough sex, choking, biting, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, and some fluffies

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A/N: I apologize for the late post but ya girl has the stomach flu y’all 

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Daddycember ‘23 Masterlist

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Every small grunt forces a ping of guilt through your husband’s gut, both hands working tirelessly to relieve your pain. Truly, he didn’t know the walk would be so rigorous for you, but he should’ve known, should’ve researched more before coming out. But he does his best to make the situation better; he carried all of the bags, both yours and his, set them down in their appropriate rooms and then rushed back to tend to you. Jack led you over to the couch, letting you lay out while he removed your socks and shoes.

“I’m sorry, sugar.” He mumbled, removing his hat while kneeling down. “Didn’t realize it was such a long hike.”

“It’s okay.” Came your sigh of reassurance, head tilted back. “It was worth it.”

And that made him incredibly happy, forcing that handsome smile right across his face. What you said was true, too, coming here was definitely worth it. With Jack’s busy work schedule, and you constantly prepping for the baby, the two of you needed a break, especially before your newborn gets here. And that’s exactly what this trip was intended for. Some time away to relax, reset, and enjoy each other’s presence. 

Jack’s lips find their way to your ankles and calves, fingers massaging your sore feet. He didn’t mind doing this for you, did it almost every night, in fact. It became routine for him quite quickly; he could never not care for you. But thankfully, most of the more aggressive symptoms have subsided alongside the beginning of your third trimester. No more intense nausea or bloating, no more awful heartburn. The worst of your troubles have been general muscle aches and pelvic pain, but you’d take that over vomit any day.

“I can feel him kicking.” A sudden laugh comes from your throat, both hands falling to your belly. 

Jack grins, reaching up with one of his own hands. “He’s a wild one, in there.” 

“You… you think it’ll really change?” All Jack does is look up with confused concern. “Our lives, the way we are, when he comes.” 

His casual shrug serves as minimal reassurance. Glancing back down at your feet, Jack clears his throat. “Sure it will, babycakes. But not in a bad way.”

“How do you know it won’t be in a bad way?”

“Because I won't let it be that way.” Chocolate eyes meet yours once again, full of warmth and kindness. “Don’t worry so much, honey. We’re on vacation.” And with that, he’s standing, leaning over to kiss your forehead. “Let me go make you a drink.” 

And in this brief lull, you let out a relaxed breath, feeling at ease in Jack’s care. He’d always been such an attentive man, an attentive partner, able to identify and tend to your wants and needs before you even knew what they were. Being observant was in his nature, and branched into every area of his life, even now. 

“Here you go, sugar.” Handing you the drink with a smile on his face, Jack turns toward the fireplace, taking it upon himself to light it. 

It’s easy to admire him, not only for his incredibly handsome features, but for his wonderfully doting personality. He takes care of you, in every sense of the word. You’ve never felt safe before, like you do with him. 

Although the walk up to the cabin was laborious, he’s still glad he chose it. Perfectly secluded and quiet, up in the Kentucky mountains. The entire estate is surrounded by woodland brush and gentle creatures, deers and rabbits and birds. The surrounding peace is everything the two of you have been craving, a place to relax and reconnect. Your travels happened later in the evening, though, the night sky already beginning to grow. And with the stars peeking out from behind the clouds, and Jack lighting the fireplace, the entire situation seemed all too familiar. 

“You know…” Looking over at Jack, he stands, briefly clapping the dust from his hands. “This kind of reminds me of our honeymoon.” 

“Yeah?” He asks, flashing you that dazzling grin. And then he shrugs, walking over to you. “That was kinda the point.” 

Romantic, warm, and beautiful, qualities that mirror both your relationship and post-wedding vacation. It still makes you grin, still makes butterflies erupt inside your belly that Jack is willing to do all of this for you. 

“Wanna spoil you, angel.” Jack then hums, brushing aside some hair so he can get to your neck. And then he’s placing a single, sweet kiss, smiling. “How’re you feelin’, hm? Sore? Anything I can do?” 

The mention of your honeymoon has his insides stirring, his mischievous nature growing. Alongside these playful emotions comes the presence of Jack’s hand on your thigh, warm even through the material of your pants. He rubs you firmly, giving the plush fat of your legs a slow squeeze. 

Spoiling you is genuinely Jack’s pleasure, and he does it because he loves you; and this trait grew tenfold when you decided to carry his baby. But he’d be lying if he said he didn’t use these situations for his own satisfaction, too. Watching your body grow makes his entire body run hot, your soft and squishy thighs, your round belly and perfectly plump backside. And Jesus Christ, your tits, he never thought they could get any more enticing before you got pregnant. But now? So swollen with your nipples all sensitive and red… he can’t keep himself away. He just can’t, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to on your private getaway. 

The slightest, most timid smirk forms on your face, eyes choosing to look away. “Well… you already took care of my feet.” Something in you says that Jack is looking for an excuse, for any simple reason to touch your body, massage it and just feel every inch of it that he can.

“Yeah?” He responds, chestnut orbs traveling down your figure. “What about your legs?”

“They’re fine, not too sore.” Shrugging, you do your best to suppress your laugh. Sometimes, teasing Jack was fun. 

Raising a brow, he then asks, “Your hips? Stomach?” Now, he’s running his palm over your swollen belly, chest inhaling a deep breath. Nothing about pregnancy turned him on before, not until he saw you carrying his child. Who knew Jack Daniels had a breeding kink? 

“Nope.” Finally turning to face him, you smile innocently. “I’m okay, baby.” 

The look on your face is kind and calm, but the twinkle in your eye tells him you’re only playing. And his own expression is growing stern, contemplating his next move. 

“You don’t seem to get it, do you?” 

“Get what?”

And in one quick motion, Jack’s hand rises to grab harshly at your chest, squeezing one breast in hand. It makes you gasp, makes your body jump with surprise. 

“Daddy wants to touch you, sugar.” In an instant, he’s closer, breathing heavier against you. “Daddy wants to touch your sweet body and watch you fall apart in his arms.” 

With an exasperated sigh, he’s then falling to your neck, sucking on it with wet lips. His sudden advance has your jaw dropping, lips curling up at the ends. Keeping his hand on your chest, his fingers press into your skin, massaging your tit before collecting his fingers so he can toy with your nipple.

“Jack,” Comes your simple sigh, head falling back.

“I know,” He says, mouthing at your neck. “It feels so good for you, honey.”

His mouth moves to your jawline, licking it, nipping at it, while brushing his thumb across the point of your breast. Even the slightest bit of friction made them hard, whether it be a small breeze or the soft fabric of your shirt. They’d never been more sensitive, and Jack had never been more interested. 

“You know I wanna touch you,” Jack mumbles over your skin, hand dropping to your legs. “Fuckin’ tease.” 

Cupping you between your thighs pulls a full moan from your throat, head lifting just in time to see him lean into your chest. Jack buries his face into you, right between your smooth mounds while his tongue dips into your cleavage. 

“Oh, god, I want this, sugar.” Though, you can barely hear him with his face stuffed between your tits. Lifting both hands, you encourage him, holding him there by the back of his head. 

“Daddy,” Two fingers rub firm circles over your covered center, your husband groaning quietly when you grab onto his hair. 

“Let me do this, baby doll.” 

Nodding rapidly, you gulp. “Okay, daddy. Okay…” 

Moving away from you with a swift inhale, Jack lifts himself from your body. Already, his pupils are blown, his pants tented firmly against your thigh. And for a brief second, you laugh. The two of you haven’t even been here for more than thirty minutes and he’s already trying to get into your pants. 

“Gorgeous fuckin’ thing.” The praise makes you flush and he knows it, making his way down so he can kneel between your legs. “Get these off, sugar.” And even though he says it like a command, he does it for you, undoing your jeans and yanking them down your legs. The help you offer is brief, a simple lift of your hips. But then you’re falling back down and watching him spread your legs. 

“Yeah… this is what I wanna see.” With his gaze focused on your center, Jack groans, tongue poking out to lick his lower lip. “Already leakin’ through your panties…”

In an experimental act, he reaches out, finger swiping over the very center of the delicate cloth. It’s damp, the middle darkened from your wetness. And that makes him grin, makes him fucking throb in his pants. 

“You know it, don’t you?” He asks before leaning forward and stuffing his face between your thighs. Again, it takes you by surprise, forcing your legs wider while that curved nose of his nuzzles its way into your crotch. And then, he’s inhaling, hot mouth opening to taste you through your panties.

“D-Daddy,” This time, it comes out as a whine, one hand fisting his hair while the other grabs hold of the couch. 

“Ugh,” Lifting himself just enough for you to hear, he says, “Know just how fuckin’ good you taste.” Reaching forward, Jack hooks two fingers around your panties before pulling them aside. And then his tongue is laying out, flattening it to give your cunt one firm, wet swipe. 

“Fuck,” Puffing out a harsh breath, your eyes are fluttering shut, feeling the firm shove of his tongue. 

“Get so goddamn wet like this, babycakes.” He notes, mouthing at your clit. Lifting a hand, he grabs onto your hip, urging you to sit back and lift your pelvis up a bit. It gives him better access, after all. “Been a goddamn fountain since I got you pregnant.”

And that makes you laugh, hands lowering to brush kindly through his hair. Both of those broad palms then move beneath your thighs, holding them with a secure grip while sucking on your core. It’s already on his face, on his lips and chin and cheeks. And lord, does he love that. He’d willingly drown in this if he could. Getting his face wet with your slick made him the happiest man on earth, made him harder than he ever thought he could be. 

“Pretty little whore, aren’t you?” Jack chuckles, leaning back to spit on your folds. “Sittin’ here with my baby inside you, and your body’s still beggin’ for more.” The devil truly came out when he was like this, nothing but offensive praise and aggressive passion.

Running his tongue up and down through your lips, he groans, wrapping his mouth around your sensitive bud. And when he gives the tiniest succession of sucks, pulsing his lips around that tiny pearl, you feel like you’re going to come undone. Every part of you feels light and airy, like you could float away at any second. It’s like you’re buzzing with it, with euphoria and happiness. And he just keeps going, just keeps his head between your legs and his mouth on your throbbing cunt. 

Jack knows when to hold you down, he’s done this too many times to not be aware. The grip he gives your hips is bruising, digging in with ferocity while shoving you onto his mouth. Your hips grind against him, head forcing itself back while you cry out for him. It’s a sweet whine, a gasping moan, fingers tightening on those dark brown strands while he fucks his tongue into you over and over again. He did that every time he ate you out, sucked on your clit until he made you unravel and then dove down to collect what he’d worked so hard for.

“I’m so fucking in love with you.” He’s out of breath, reaching for your jaw before smashing his mouth to your own. Instantly, the combination of his spit and your slick is running down your chin, legs shaking gently while Jack consumes you from above. 

“I’m, I - baby.”

“Get up,” Jack grunts, hauling you up by your arms. “Gonna get you in bed so I can see the mess you made for me.” 

Keeping his grip on your bicep, he pulls you alongside him, hurrying down the hall. The master bedroom isn’t far, which your shaky legs are thankful for. His demanding words and actions make everything seem so quick, like you don’t have a choice in anything that’s going on. And truthfully, you want it that way. You want Jack to make the decisions, you want to lie down and do whatever he wants you to. 

Shoving you forward, he watches you stumble onto the bed, a bright grin on your beautiful face. Taking a beat, he pauses, standing above you before beginning to remove his shirt. And while keeping that deadly gaze, you move backward on the covers, shimmying out of your panties. 

Eyes dipping down, he nods toward your chest. “Take off your bra.” 

While unbuttoning his shirt, he watches you complete his task, tossing the last bit of your clothing onto the floor beside your bed. And just in time for him to shove his pants down, too. 

“Mine,” He suddenly says, crawling over you on the bed. “Mine - all mine.”

Again, he’s obsessing over your breasts, shoving his face between them while his hands work the rest. His body rubs against you, cock wet and leaking on your thigh. It makes your insides burn bright, seeing his overt attraction for you. He gets so passionate when he’s like this, so vulnerable yet assertive, confident. 

“Let me get my fingers inside you.” That breathy voice says, licking two of them before dragging them down your chest. 

While his tongue lays out, toying with your nipples, Jack’s fingers dip inside your entrance, already loose from your orgasm. So sweet and welcoming, velvety and warm. And all you can do is writhe beneath the weight of his body, turning your head to kiss his cheek and neck. The curl of his fingers practically makes you shriek, feeling your body react on its own accord. 

“So sensitive like this, baby.” It’s lazy, the way he licks your nipples, teeth dragging over the red and puffy peaks. And then he’s sucking on them, sucking on the swollen swell of your tits and groaning like he’d just cum in his goddamn pants.

“Tell me you want more.”

“I want it,” Nodding, you gasp, swallowing dryly. “I want more.”

Your hips cant upwards in time with his fingers’ movement, hands grasping for his bicep and back. But it’s not enough, not for him.

“Tell daddy you need him, c’mon.”

“Daddy, please.”

“Nuh-uh,” Breathily, he chuckles. “Use your big girl words, sweet pea.” 

“I need you, I need you, daddy. Please, please.” In an attempt to convince him, you lower your hand, finding him laying heavy over your thigh. The firm grip you give his cock makes everything slow down for him, his eyes shutting alongside a small hiss. Even his fingers fall slack, chest dropping against your own. 

“Touch me, baby.” It’s a quiet command, one said while he nods. “Touch daddy.”

Knowing that he’s happy with this, you grin, running your fist up and down his length. Glancing down between your bodies, Jack watches, eyeing the way your thumb swipes over his tip.

“Oh, fuck.” Shaking his head, Jack sighs, hips rocking into your grip. “Always need you like this, sugar, always…” 

You can’t deny that it’s been hard these past few weeks, hell, these past few months. Being intimate hasn’t been a priority for the two of you, unfortunately; stress just took control of your lives. Jack’s career was becoming incredibly demanding, leaving you to care for the house and your unborn baby all on your own. Setting up the nursery, going to doctor’s appointments by yourself, feeling the baby kick without your husband there to experience it, somedays, it was just heartbreaking for you. But you’re here now, you’re together, without a single distraction in sight. You’re his, and he’s mine. That fact is always in your mind.

Taking himself from your hand, he settles between your legs with a relieved breath. Jack’s love for you consumes him, his entire body and mind. He just wants to wrap himself around you, looping his arms around your back while burying his face in your hair. 

“Jack,” It’s said quietly while you hold him, stroking his hair. 

Lifting one hand, it rests on your left breast, Jack’s hips moving to push into you slowly. The way you open up for him is an absolute dream, a breathless laugh spilling from his mouth as it happens. And when he pinches your nipple, you whine, forcing a jump from his cock as it rests inside. 

“You just need a lil’ extra somethin’, don’t you, sweetheart?” There’s a teasing tone to his voice, but you’re not sure what he means. 

Pressing his face into the curve of your neck, Jack smiles brightly, lips dragging over the skin as he begins to move. So he doesn’t hurt you, the hand on your chest moves to the bed, placing all of his weight onto it. 

“Puttin’ my dick inside you just ain’t enough anymore. Was it ever?”

“Daddy, what…” The steady pump of his cock between your legs is making you feel delirious, flooding your body with a sense of euphoria you’ve never felt before your pregnancy. “What do you mean?” 

“Remember what we used to do, sugar? You remember?” Heat creeps onto your cheeks as he says it, legs lifting to his waist as the arousal in your body heightens. “You remember what you did in my office?” 

“B-Baby,” He knows this gets to you, knows it hits right to your core.

“I remember,” Jack continues, licking at your neck. “Bendin’ you over my desk, fuckin’ you dumb over my paperwork. Or how ‘bout the times you sucked me off while I talked to Champ, huh? What about that?” 

Every firm shove forces the tip of his cock against your most sensitive spot, the thin tissue that just begs for his presence. And that, alongside those devilish words, is making you drip around him.

“Crawling on your knees for me in my jet,” He’s throbbing inside you, words becoming airy as he reconnects with your body. “Shit,” Hissing harshly, his eyes pinch shut. “Fuck me, honey. You remember rubbing yourself over me? Over my new goddamn boots because you were so horny?”

“Fuck, yes.” Exposing your neck even more, you toss your head back, feeling Jack’s teeth make their own special imprint. 

The memory is all too erotic, something you honestly can’t believe you did. Jack made you stupid; he was so goddamn attractive, so goddamn charming, that you’d do anything just to please him. Even if it meant humiliating yourself, you’d do it just to get off. 

“Hm…” You sigh out, placing your chin on his knee and closing your eyes in contentment.

“How’s that feel, honey?” He asks, reaching down to tilt your chin up to him.

Your eyes open, lids already heavy with adoration and lust. Jack’s smiling down at you, his expression soft and caring.

“So good,” Comes your contented hum, more than happy to finally have contact with your lover.

“Yeah?” He whispers, “Then keep goin’. Make ‘em all wet and shiny for me, honey.”  

You whimper quietly at his words, moaning lightly as you lean forward to begin moving your hips. The movement of your soft skin, your folds brushing over the smoothness of the material, only furthers the waves of heat that begin flowing through your core.  

“Go on,” He urges, “entertain me, sweet pea.”

“God, do I miss that. Havin’ my own little slut on tap.”

“Daddy, I’m, I’m still here.” It sounds pathetic, like you’re begging, trying your damnedest to prove to him that that part of you hasn’t left. 

“Oh, I know you are.” Lifting himself from your body, Jack glares down at you, one hand lifting to grab your jaw. “I know you’re there, babycakes. Comes out every time I’m inside you, every time I give you a demand. Why don’t you show me?”

At this, your brows raise innocently, unable to speak from the grip he has on your jaw and chin. And amidst your silence, he says, “Show me how well you still listen to me… and open that mouth.”

As soon as his grip allows you to, your lips are parting. That strong hand drops to your throat then, Jack’s face coming down to drip a cool trail of spit onto your tongue. But he’s not done then, not until spitting forcefully onto your mouth. And the moan you exude is nothing short of whorish and erotic, the liquid sliding over your tongue. 

“Yeah…” The word is said with a cocky sense of power, that gorgeous half-smirk crawling onto his face. “You just can’t get off to that vanilla shit anymore, can you, babycakes? You need it rough, don’t you?”

That hand is still on your throat, and only tightens as he speaks. With every thrust, his pelvis slaps against you, forcing your legs wider, and forcing himself deeper.

“Need daddy to manhandle you? Choke you? Hold you down and bruise you?”

Burying himself inside your cunt, you can’t help but feel so perfectly full, the veins along his shaft rubbing delightfully against your inner skin. It feels so natural, this connection, so natural and sensual. But nothing about it is sweet; everything about this encounter screams salacious and indecent. 

“Yes,” Comes your little plea, nodding. “Yes.”

Each shove rocks your body against the mattress, the strength of Jack’s body surrounding your entire presence. He feels so warm and strong, soft when he needs to be and mean when he wants to be. 

“I love this,” Jack admits, “Love nothing more than this; connecting with you. Look at you, just look at you.”

Lowering himself with a flurry of rapid breaths, he presses his mouth to your cheek, expressing his adoration for you. “You’re so good for me, my pretty baby. So pretty like this, sugar. Fuckin’ gorgeous when you take me.”

“I need you, can’t, can’t live without you.”

“Never, sugar.” Gasping against the side of your head, Jack’s chest stutters, a deep groan slipping from his lips. “Always here for you, with you.” 

When he gets like this, you can’t help but wrap your legs around him, tightening every muscle and pulling him in. And he lets you, falling into your embrace with a deep moan of gratification. It consumes him, the pleasure of it all, of releasing inside your wonderfully welcoming body. Jolting slightly above your beautiful and giving form, Jack moans helplessly, feeling his release wash over your walls. Every spurt is accompanied with a sharp shudder, arms moving to encircle you fully. Humid grunts pass over your ear, his mouth hanging open as he experiences the sensation of it. 

“My sweet girl.” Your husband finally says, his body tingling with every ounce of happiness that he has. His hold is full of pure, unwavering love, full of absolute worship and adoration. And beneath him, you relax, wanting nothing more than to rest with him in this peace. 

Kissing your head, Jack whispers sweetly, “Perfect little thing.” 

It’s in this moment that you feel every single worry melt away, every anxious thought about Statesman and the baby. Those negative notions serve absolutely no purpose to you, not when Jack is here, not when he cares for you so consistently and so openly. With Jack, you’re safe, you’ve never known otherwise. And nothing could ever take him away from you.

[visenyaism]

My roommate and I spent months goofing on Matt Smith as Daemon when the casting was announced and then we were kind of shocked by how good he was and all the idiosyncrasies and thought he put into it??? We’re a team green household but the man puts his pussy into it.

I was so prepared to be a hater and then episode one where he is just barking with the boys, murdering people for crimes he has decided they’ve committed, showing up to work covered in blood, making fun of otto’s dead wife, being in the walls, wearing a silly dragon hat, the sad sack blanket burrito moment, getting the shit kicked out of him by Criston Cole, being the saddest person at the orgy he threw to celebrate the death of his newborn nephew, and then getting exiled all in an hour which could have been the most bland HBO edgelord shit ever and yet was an incredibly fun and interesting performance. I had to eat my words. We still call him slaymon targaryen in my home. it was over

[teecupangel]

Hi Teecup, hope everything's going good! Here's yet another Desmond becomes an animal AU, but with a twist! :D

So Desmond gets reborn as a horse. I also imagine it somewhat modern setting, with Ezio being 17 and Altaïr being 16.

Desmond feels the unmistakable sensation at being born and to his suprise he is not a human, but a foal. Born at Auditore Farm. Where Ezio is the new manager after his father retired and Federico was in a bad accident that leaves him unable to ride the horses anymore. And first thing that happens after he takes the position is that the prized mare of Masyaf Ranch breaks into a stallions pen and gets pregnant. After the two ranches struck a deal about the mare that might finally save the struggling Auditore farm from being sold. The mare that was Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad personal, very dear, horse. So, Ezio is not having a good time and Desmond feels bad and blames himself for it. Because he couldn't even die properly, so why should his re-birth be anything other than a huge fiasco and mistake.

Until Ezio takes a look at the foal the next morning and sees the newborn foal just sitting in the corner, not caring about his mothers attempts to get him stand up. It wasn't the foals fault it was born and their farm had always prided themselves in the care and love their horses recieved. So when the foal refuses to nurse, Ezio takes it upon himself to hand raise it.

When Rashid and Altaïr comes for the mare, Rashid looks in disgust at Desmond, but Altaïr looks.... sad. While everyone moves the mare over to the transport, Ezio goes to feed Desmond and finds Altaïr in the stall. Desmond is playing with Altaïr and the teen is smiling, which Ezio thought him incapable off. When Altaïr realises he's been caught he tries to play it off as curiousity at his prized mares offspring, but Ezio of course doesn't buy it. Especially when the offer to try to bottle feed Desmond is recieved with a very enthuastic nod. Sadly Altaïr has to leave and Ezio is left with having to juggle the responsibility of the stable, of raising Desmond who refuses a foster mother and his duty as the middle brother. Life is stressfull, but Desmond certainly brightens any day.

.

Just a very self indulgent AU with the excuse of having Ezio and Federico in tight jeans and cowboy hats. XD And ofc Desmond causing chaos everywhere he goes, though rarely causing harm. Maybe Leonardo could be a vet that works at both stables for EziLeo or you could even do a rare pair of EziAlt(idk what the ship name is XD) once Altaïr realises that Al Mualim never had the horses in mind, only profit.

Ratonhnhaké:ton can remain largely unchanged if you want him included. Haytham works at Masyaf Ranch and both Auditore and Masyaf border a native american reserve where he met Ziio. Ratonhnhaké:ton prefers to play and eventually help out on Auditore Farm, much to his fathers chagrin. But Haytham does try to be there for him, despite their differences(i've recently gone into a fix it Father-Son fic dive, so i want a Haytham that will at least try for his son).

Full disclmainer: i have only watched/read a few movies and books about ranches and stables, not to mention having no idea how native americans do things, so i apologize if anything is grossly wrong. I don't mean it, i just want a feel good story about a man and his horse overcoming odds and everythin ends well at the end. ^^

Full disclaimer: The only thing I know about ranches and stables are from … well, majority from fanfics where one dude goes to a ranch to work and falls in love with the ranch owner and… the movie Nope and that horse-heavy episode of Leverage. XD

So my immediate idea is that Altaïr ran away from Masyaf Ranch and asks Ezio to employ him for board and food. That’s our setup for AltEzi if you want XD

Or it can turn into Ezio being the older brother and caring parental figure that Altaïr desperately needed.

I don’t know why but I kinda imagine Federico having to use a cane in this one as part of his accident. He still helps out in the ranch but he’s relegated to light work and mostly budgeting and stuff. Altaïr’s employment is a definite godsend.

Federico is also the one who cooks and he cooks a lot when he’s stressed. Even makes his own jam from the garden they have (which Ezio tends to most of the time).

It would be funny if this was set in Desmond’s POV the entire time so the whole EziAlt part is right there but Desmond just assumes they’re becoming such close ‘friends’.

Ratonhnhaké:ton and Haytham works as stable hands and Ratonhnhaké:ton is around Altaïr’s age so they become close.

If you still want this to be EziLeo then the beta couple could be AltCon instead? That’s an even rarer pairing hahahaha

Leonardo is a family friend and the vet to their town (which has a lot of ranches) and he’s close to the family that he sometimes joins meal time whenever he’s there on a job and he has the time. If this was EziLeo, this would be a slowburn friends-to-lovers kind of deal with Federico working overtime to get Ezio to realize that Leonardo has a crush on him. Altaïr gets roped in later on much to his dissatisfaction.

Claudia and Petruccio are both living their own lives with Petruccio away for college. If this was summer time, he comes home to help out and he can be Altaïr’s friend.

Throughout this entire thing, Desmond is just trying to live his horse life while trying to get use to his horse body with his greatest problem being his instincts to move like a human.

He finds love in eating the strawberry field Haytham is in charge of.

His archnemesis is a bird that always tweet so loudly in the morning, waking him up and having the galls to land on his back because it knows Desmond sees him as the bane of his horse existence.

In other words, this is a feel good story about two men finding their own happiness while taking care of the strangest horse… while overcoming odds and everything ends well in the end.

[narcissosbythepool]

How about some Rosie AU?

Kyle and John are back from the hospital with baby Rosie and trying to readjust to a life with a newborn. A night time feeding turns into an opportunity to reminisce and dance.

Tags: implied trans pregnancy, tooth-rotting fluff, slow dancing, newborn baby things. Continues under the cut.

//

In the past two weeks Kyle has become so good at warming up the baby bottle that he should list it on his CV at this point. Apply for a promotion. He can see the title, Captain Baby Formula. The Milk General. He’d finally outrank John.

Rosie huffs quietly as she drinks, eyes drooping a little as she greedily chugs down the formula. Kyle has found that she fusses less when he walks around a little, and tonight their nightly wanderings have found them in the kitchen. The microwave clock shows 3:14 in the morning. This used to be the worst night watch during missions… Something in the hours between 3 and 5 in the morning killed the soul. It was impossible to sleep after the watch was over, and if you woke up after 2, it was pointless to try and go back to sleep – you’d just have to gather yourself and turn into a person who could keep watch for two hours and still be trusted with a firearm.

Kyle doesn’t know if this is any easier. At least he’s not expected to snipe enemies at this hour, but he’s instead trying to feed a newborn and that feels somehow equally, if not more, daunting.

He barely notices when John passes them on his way to the loo, they just nod at each other like colleagues, and Kyle doesn’t question why he’s awake. Both of their sleep schedules have been fucked beyond recognition – at some point they’d dreamed of doing this in shifts, so that one of them could catch some shut-eye in-between feedings. That dream was immediately shattered as they came home with the baby, because Rosie does not really give a shit about their set schedules and both John and Kyle are light sleepers from years of missions out in the field… but it is also nice to have someone awake with you, Kyle has found.

It reminds him of the times they’d keep night watch during missions. Before they’d stumbled into bed with each other, before secret kisses out of sight, they’d often sat together watching the sun rise and fall. Sharing a smoke, exchanging stories from their times in training and service, Kyle remembers those moments when he would sneak glances at John, watch his face in the changing light; how the burning feeling inside him yearned to reach out and touch, to follow the frown wrinkling his brow with his fingertips, to muss his hair once the bloody hat came off. He started carrying a lighter with him soon enough, just to have the excuse to keep those moments going. He’d watch John in the glow of the struggling flame as he lit his cigar. At some point, John started looking back and Kyle would concentrate on the glowing embers of the cigar instead, feeling like he was aflame as well.

Rosie coughs a little and Kyle is brought back to the moment in a snap. She doesn’t even cry, just attacks the bottle again with new fervour and Kyle sighs in relief. He really doesn’t have the energy to deal with her crying right now. Rosie merely sighs like she’s been working a tough 9 to 5 at the office – though Kyle guesses that growing is a hard job in itself. He squeezes her a little closer in his arms and she gives him a confused side-eye.

God, he loves her.

Rosie doesn’t react to the sound of the toilet flushing or the sink running as John washes his hands. Kyle listens as John carefully opens the door, doing his best not to make too much noise. To his surprise, John doesn’t immediately beeline back to bed to try and sleep a bit more before Rosie wakes them again but instead joins them. He plasters himself against Kyle’s back and hums some form of greeting which had ceased to be English about two feedings ago.

“Hi,” Kyle whispers and smiles when John’s hands find their way to his hips, the touch light but needy nonetheless.

“Mmh,” John murmurs back, the low bass of his voice resonating in Kyle’s chest. He presses a dry kiss against the nape of Kyle’s neck, and then hooks his chin over Kyle’s shoulder to look at Rosie. “Alright?”

“All clear. She’s being very good.”

“Takes after her father, I see.”

“And who is that a compliment to, hm?”

Kyle feels rather than hears John’s quiet chuckle andresists squirming when John’s cold nose nuzzles against his skin. He can’t help his smile breaking into a giddy sort of grin when John kisses his neck again, then another spot as if it’s imperative, and then Rosie makes a noise that captures their attention again.

“No distractions at mealtime,” Kyle chastises him with a whisper.

“I was being bad,” John admits, sounding sufficiently pathetic and apologetic as he addresses her, “but sweetheart, you must understand… when someone looks this lovely, it’s hard to resist.”

Rosie, their new overlord and ruler of attention, squints at them as she drinks, and Kyle has to bite his lip not to let the laugh bubbling in his chest out.

“She looks quite put off… You might need another strategy to be forgiven,” he says softly. John is so warm against his back, he can’t help but lean into him and enjoy the closeness. John’s chest against his back is steady, rising and falling with his calm breaths, and in that moment, cuddled against John and with their daughter in his arms, Kyle feels such a strong flash of contentment that it surprises him a little.

It’s a terrifying thing, to be this happy. It’s like his luck could run out at any moment, and at the same time, he finds immense comfort in the fact that this will be the rest of their lives – perhaps not the night feedings, but John right here, to share this terrifying, exciting new life. Their sweet little Rosie in his arms, so trusting and small; it feels so right that he doesn’t know what to do with himself, other than bask in the love that consumes his entire being right now.

Or maybe it’s just 3 AM fucking with his head. He’ll probably feel less loving and grateful when he has to wake up again. But for now, he’s going to enjoy this.

“How about a little dance?” John asks and Kyle hums, considering it. As if on instinct, he begins swaying side to side.

“It can be arranged,” he states. Rosie sighs in his hold again and Kyle tilts the bottle a bit. Not much left. Kyle’s prediction of getting her to fall asleep quickly looks more and more promising. He smiles down at her. The corners of her lips twitch. It probably means she’s starting to feel gassy, but Kyle’s heart still leaps in his chest at the sight.

“Look,” he whispers conspiratorially, “she thinks it’s a good idea.”

John’s hands are steady on his hips and guide Kyle to an easy rhythm of swaying back and forth. They somehow press even closer and John’s arms rise to wrap around Kyle’s as if they’re holding Rosie in tandem, including her in their silly dance. He’s mindful of Kyle’s surgical wound, careful not to pull on the stitches, and truly, truly Kyle could spend the rest of his life like this.

They sway to imaginary music, standing in place. Rosie offers no protests, just blinks at them with her huge brown eyes and wonders at the world and it kills Kyle a little inside to know that soon enough she’ll stop being this tiny, stop needing them as much as she does now. But right now, she’s small and trusts with her whole heart, and—

Has finished her bottle.

“Oh,” Kyle chuckles, “and she’s done.”

“The meal dance helped,” John replies and Kyle nods sagely.

“Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Well, don’t make me feel too useful,” John mumbles and Kyle lets out a noise that might be laughter. At this hour he’s not certain himself.

He switches Rosie to his shoulder (they both say “scrunch” out loud as she does the newborn scrunch, curling up her arms and legs towards her body like a little frog) for burping, and turns around in John’s arms.

“Good evening,” John says and Kyle bites his lip, trying in vain to stifle the smile.

“It’s night,” he argues, patting and rubbing Rosie’s back gently. He keeps swaying, as he can’t walk around with her now, and John matches him as always, his hands warm and possessive on Kyle’s lower back.

“It’s the worst watch,” John retorts back and Kyle must be hysterical because the smile breaks free again either way. It’s like he’s being flirted with and he feels flustered.

“Well, Cap, what will you do without the 3 am cigar?” he flirts back, and isn’t it funny how he can still be so freshly smitten with the man who is the father of his child. Rosie makes a faint, unamused noise, and Kyle keeps rubbing her back. She’ll be ready soon.

John rolls his eyes. “That was an excuse. Don’t need to tempt you for a smoke anymore. I can just have you here.”

“You knew, and let me buy a lighter for you.”

“I liked knowing it was for me,” John says quietly. “Don’t need to keep you at arm’s length anymore.”

Kyle chuckles. “Clearly not,” he says, hoisting Rosie a little and they snort as she finally lets out a satisfied burp, those pesky air bubbles now successfully ejected into the atmosphere. “Do you want to see if she’s going to be this agreeable going back to sleep?”

He readjusts Rosie again, bringing her back to a cradle in his arms, and is once again struck by how tiny she is. She’s basically just the size of his hands. How can anything be this cute?

John seems to be on the same wavelength, looking down at their little girl with a smitten expression. He swipes her cheek gently with his fingers and she seems to lean into his touch, like a little flower reaching towards the sun, and when John looks back up at Kyle, he looks like he’s ready to melt on the spot.

“What wouldn’t I do for you two?”

While it’s sweet, it’s in Kyle’s nature to tease.

“Buy your own lighter, apparently.”

John bites back a smile and scrunches his nose in mock distaste. It’s devastatingly adorable.

Rosie’s beginning to blink slower, her eyelids heavy, and it’s time for this cute moment to be over, as much as Kyle mourns it.

“Time to put her back to sleep,” he sighs. John’s thumb rubs over his spine slowly, and he looks like he’s mulling over something.

“Can I?”

Kyle raises his brows. “Do you really want to?”

“I’d like to hold her for a bit,” John says and his smile turns a little melancholic at the edges. “I won’t have many chances soon.”

Well, there’s something they have avoided addressing, and Kyle certainly isn’t going to fight him here. More sleep? He’ll welcome it any time.

“Alright,” he agrees and then gently, carefully transfers Rosie to John’s arms, where she settles with minimal squirming – poor girl all tuckered out from her feeding. John’s attention is completely focused on her, allured by Rosie’s sleepy charm, his eyes soft as he just stares at her like he’s mesmerised.

“See you at the next watch,” Kyle quips and leans in to kiss John’s cheek. John just hums, and Kyle puts away the bottle and the formula while John takes Rosie to their bedroom. Kyle soon follows suit and climbs gratefully into their bed, tempted to just burrow under the covers – but he resists sleep, watching John walk around as he prepares Rosie’s bassinet so he can set her in once she finally falls asleep.

Kyle should just close his eyes and let the tiredness take over. Exhaustion pulls his eyelids closed and his body feels so heavy. God, he wants to sleep, knowing he’ll have to wake up in a couple hours to feed Rosie again.

But he wants to watch this. He wants to witness John murmur softly to their daughter, humming a little tune under his breath, wants to see how Rosie, despite fighting sleep herself, keeps looking up at her Da like she wants to stay awake for him too.

The night watch used to be their thing, something Kyle would look forward to with each mission, as crazy as it was. Soap used to make fun of him for it, but it really was a special time, staying up with John. Being close, building a relationship, catching his eye, and leaving him breathless with anticipation as the tension grew. Falling in love was such a gradual, devastating thing, something he knew to expect but was caught by surprise nonetheless – and in the quiet hours of the night the feeling grew and took root, so strong he couldn’t tear himself away, too close to thrash away without damage.

And now he’s here, with a child and a new kind of night watch, a new kind of responsibility and a new kind of fondness flickering into life from the embers of what was already there, nurtured and cared for.

He pulls the covers over himself and closes his eyes.

Captain Baby Formula signing off.

End.

[howlingday]

D&D au jaune thought he didn't have talent for magic until one day he insulted a goblin so bad it just fucking died. walk us through the adventures of the blonde bard jaune arc and his best spell vicious mockery

I wish I was more familiar with Bards, and I also wish I answered this with Tom Cardy's "Perception Check". Sadly, I've played a bard once in a now long dead campaign and two mini-campaigns, and I already gave the Tom Cardy treatment to Nora. That said, here's Bard!Jaune

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

"Fellas, fellas, please." Jaune waved his hands defensively as thugs pressed closer to bring harm to him. It wasn't his fault all the girls were giving him all the unwanted attention. It was an occupational hazard, just like pissing off a bunch of drunken bullies. Like right now. "Come now, can't we settle this without violence?"

"No chance, cheese-hair!"

"Cheese-hair?!" Jaune jumped back. "At least I have hair that looks like cheese, where ass your head is as bald as a newborn elephant's asshole!"

The bald foe reeled back, covering his head. In the far back corner, another bald patron left the tavern in tears. The others, heads much fuller of flowing locks, pressed further. One of them grabbed Jaune by his collar, foul miasma spilling through stained teeth.

"Ugh!" Jaune held a hand over his nose. "You do realize urinal cakes AREN'T real cakes, don't you? What goes into the lavatory is supposed to stay in the lavatory, not go back inside you!"

Jaune landed on his feet as he was dropped, and thick hands clasped shut the port hole of the offending odor. Light chuckles that started filling the room were now building into light rumbles of laughter. The third and final foe stepped forward, tossing a fist without warning. Jaune caught the strike with his face and flew across the stage and into the back wall. It was time to break out the big guns.

"You call that a punch?" Jaune stood from the floor, fire in his eyes. "Your mother hit me harder than that, and that was after I already tired her out with my TRUE bardic skills. But she wasn't the only one, of course, because both your sister AND your father wanted a piece of the action, too!"

The tavern nearly exploded, roaring with laughter as Jaune roasted this man's entire family with his vicious sling of insults. People were in tears, but not nearly as much as this man who had fallen to the floor in a blubbering mess. Taking his instrument in hand, Jaune left the stage, holding his hat out to anyone who wanted to give him his due of gold and silver and coppers.

However, one person had been watching him the entire time and made an important decision. There was an important mission that required people of as many skills as possible in order to get the sweetest score of all. And it would need a bit of sweet talking to help grease the wheels to get there.

That's why Roman Torchwick decided to snag Jaune as soon as he could to get the job done.

[comfymommy]

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[harry-styles-obsessed]

Daddy’s girl

Request: hi! I was wondering whether you could do something with Harry as a dad? Something just really cute? Thank you!

Dad!harry x fem!reader

Trigger warnings: none

“Evelyn baby!” Your voice rang out as you crouched down to welcome your daughter into your arms, you had the duty of picking Evelyn up because Harry had to do a photoshoot but you didn’t mind at all. Harry was your husband of four years and you absolutely adored him. You loved him because he was himself, not just for his looks… for his personality, his kindness, his love, his vulnerability but especially for the love he had for your daughter. The moment she was born they were attached at the hip practically, he was always holding her, most of the time after you had gotten out of the hospital he held Evelyn in his arms saying his only priority was for you to get rest and that he would look after her and he did. Harry was very big on “skin to skin” contact and so often when Evelyn was a newborn held the small girl on his bare chest just so she could feel safe and at home with him. His interactions with her were simply the biggest reason why you absolutely adored him. “Mama!” Her small voice said excitedly as she wrapped her arms around you gripping onto you tightly, she was 5 years old and had finally settled in to her pre-school that she struggled in because she was shy and struggled with making friends but soon realised her peers there simply wanted to be her friend.

“Did you have a good day?” You asked smiling down at her, her head nodding furiously “Uhuh! We made Easter hats!” She exclaimed excitedly with a grin and you smiled pressing a kiss to her forehead “that’s great sweetheart,” you said happily before lifting her up into your arms carrying her back to your car “daddy?” She soon asked and you smiled “daddy’s having a photoshoot. But we’re gonna go see him okay?” You said smiling at her her smile growing at your words “cheese! Daddy’s saying cheese?” She asked and you chuckled gently, you and Harry had taught her that when you got your pictures taken you had to say cheese and it simply stuck with Evelyn and she couldn’t quite pronounce photo or photoshoot so whenever she wanted a picture taken of her or if she wanted to take a picture of you and Harry she often just yelled ‘cheese’ even in the most strangest of places which got a lot of strange stares but in reality it was just adorable.

You put Evelyn in her booster seat as you made sure she was strapped in before you strapped the seatbelt around her, kissing her cheek “wanna see daddy!” She shouted and you gently shushed her “inside voice please honey, we’re going to see him now.” You assured before closing the door quietly, the toddler starting to play with her sensory toys which often helped to keep her quiet and distract her on long car journeys but she sometimes also played with them when bored or nervous. You got into the car as you immediately began driving to the studio where Harry was having his photoshoot. He not only needed some new album covers but he also had other things coming up too so wanted some good photos to use, plus his Instagram profile picture was looking a tad bit boring and he wanted to brighten it up more.

Soon enough you arrived at the studio and you quickly got Evelyn out of the car as you slowly made your way into the studio, you heard Harry’s voice instantly and so did Evelyn a soft squeal leaving her lips as she kicked her legs slightly to be put down “okay careful baby” you said before setting her down onto the floor as you followed after her. Harry’s outfit was beautiful, he literally looked like a god. Jesus Christ were you obsessed with how he looked. He looked so pretty. As his eyes landed on you he smiled at you Evelyn’s screams of excitement being heard as Harry smirked softly “oh I wonder who that is… can anyone else hear that?” He asked the photographer continuing to take pictures of him as he had asked prior to you arriving, he wanted the camera to picture him as himself. “Daddy! Daddy!” Evelyn shouted excitedly her small hands gripping at his jeans lightly tugging at the material and he looked down, gasping as if he hadn’t seen her “oh my goodness… is this my princess? Princess Evelyn!” He lifted her up into his arms her giggles getting louder as she smiled at him her small hand resting on his cheek and in that moment you couldn’t help yourself as you took a quick picture of the two, your heart instantly melting “I missed you dada” she said her hand remaining on Harry’s cheek and he smiled pressing a kiss to her forehead “i missed you too honey…” he held her close before turning himself and her towards the camera “say cheese baby” he said and so she did, “cheeseeee!” She exclaimed the flash from the camera lighting both Harry and Evelyn’s eyes up and you watched the interaction your heart continuing to melt as you beamed happily. You then looked down to your phone as you immediately put a picture of the two up on your Instagram, both Harry and your daughter were your biggest inspiration and most important thing in your life so your Instagram was full of pictures of them, you had grown quite the following too but that didn’t matter to you. All that mattered to you was Harry and Evelyn.

Evelyn soon began running around the studio, being chased by Harry as you watched a soft smile on your lips and once Harry had made a full circle round he appeared beside you again his arms wrapping around your waist “mm.. hello.” He spoke pressing a kiss to your cheek and you smiled running your fingers through his hair gently “hi… I think she missed you more than I did.” You teased and he glared at you playfully “I’m kidding.. I missed you tons.” You said holding onto him tightly, Evelyn constantly tapping Harry’s leg but he didn’t mind his attention soon turning to her “yes miss Evelyn?” He asked and that set the girl off in fits of giggles “chase me daddy!” She giggled out again and Harry glanced at you begging you to help and you laughed out “guess this’ll help me get my stamina back before tour” he chuckled out before chasing Evelyn around, purposely going slowly so she could win her squeals being music to both your and Harry’s ears. You knew Evelyn would miss Harry when he went away on tour and so that’s why you and him were trying to figure out a plan to be able to bring Evelyn along on tour with him, maybe you too.

“Mama!” The small child exclaimed “save me!!” She yelled and you laughed out as she hid behind your legs “I’ve got you… but who knows… maybe I’m on daddy’s side!” You yelled dramatically, the room being chaotic but fun as you lifted her up into your arms spinning her around as she screamed out happily before you held her back to your chest Harry slowly walking towards her like a predator awaiting to pounce on its prey and you laughed out as she kicked her legs “daddy no!!” She yelled but before she could do anything he had began to tickle her relentlessly, before lifting her T-shirt up as he began blowing raspberries into her tummy purposely making a farting noise as she squealed, laughing louder, Harry soon stopping just so he could wrap his arms around you gripping onto you tightly as Evelyn wrapped her arms around his neck, being smushed in between the two of you as Harry looked into your eyes lovingly “love you both so so much… my two favourite girls in the whole entire world. My loves.” He said softly before pressing a kiss to your forehead and a kiss to Evelyn’s forehead his words nothing but the truth as he smiled, a photo being taken of the three of you cuddled together and Harry used that specific photo of him and his girls together as his new Instagram photo. The world knew him and his Instagram… but he wanted the world to know that his world was his two girls… y/n and Evelyn.

[pastel-pillows]

💕💕💕

I got a treat in the guest room with some dusty books !

Thank you for stopping by my haunted house! I hope you enjoy your treat 💕

A treat with Billy Hargrove and some dusty books. No warnings, all fluff and feelings, maybe a little sad at one point? I don’t believe I’ve used any descriptors so this can be read as m/f/gender neutral!

The spine creaked as you cracked the old album, the dust that had collected in the ridges of the pages puffing into the air that you hastily wave away before it could reach your faces the corners were worn and the green cover on it had begun to peel back to show the yellow, once white, backing underneath it. The cover page held neat slanted writing that read, ‘Billy Hargrove, March 29th, 1968, Welcome home!’

On the first page a red faced and very angry looking newborn wrapped in a powder blue blanket greeted you, he had soft tufts of sparse blonde hair fluffy and sticking in all directions. The woman who’s holding the baby is absolutely beaming at the person behind the camera, she shares the same blonde hair as the child and you instantly know that the people in the picture are Billy and his mother. Despite the weathered appearance of the album the picture itself is pristine.

“Look at how chunky you were.” Next to you Billy’s face flushes the same shade of red as it had in the picture, his face pinching in embarrassment.

“Do you want to see the photos or not.” He hastily flips the page and you see a grinning baby, big blue eyes and a head of untamed curls, he’s got a grin that nearly reaches his eyes and as many cheerios as he can fit in his tiny hands. Next to him is his mother, her hair tied in a messy bun and elbow deep in the box of cereal. In the background you can vaguely make out the shape of a man in a recliner sitting in front of a tv.

“You look just like her.” He had his fathers nose for sure, but the eyes, hair and smile were all his mother's. Still pink in the cheeks, his lips curled a little at the edges, his eyes softening as he took in the tired but pleasantly happy visage of his mother.

“I thought so too.”

The next page had a toddler, hair sun bleached and freckles emerging from the summer sun, he’s on a paddle board and sporting bright blue floaties with sharks on them, his hands grip the front of the board, nervous but excited to be in the water. Behind him is his mother, a few more wrinkles are around her eyes but she’s just as stunning as she was in the first two photos. Her smile is there, but her eyes are looking at Billy, not the camera.

There are more photos after that, Christmas mornings with him sitting in his moms lap surrounded by wrapping paper, Fourth of July where they’re wearing matching shirts and terrible matching hats, another of him on his first bike with her cheering him on from the side. You get to see one of him as a baby in a tub surrounded by toys and another of him simply sitting in front of the tv eating a bowl of cereal. Not all of the pictures are significant moments, but each one is filled with the love you can tell she had for him.

You pass through the pages, first days of school, first tooth fairy visit, picnics and zoo trips, birthday cakes and stuffy looking Easter outfits, once you pass the picture of his tenth birthday you start to turn the pages a little slower knowing that there won't be many more. These photos you savor a little more, the joy and trust in the face of this kid.

“These are beautiful.” About a third of the album is still left when you stop turning the pages, she’d left the summer after he’d turned ten and those plastic sleeves would be empty.

“Keep going.”

You’re sure the next pictures would be of high school, of Max and him taken by Susan, the new house, his car.

Instead you see yourself, fresh out of high school and seated on the hood of his Camaro with your cap and gown tossed to the side and a beer in your hand while you animatedly talk to Lucy.

You see a sneakily taken photo of the two of you asleep on the couch, the lights dimmed and the tv casting a blue glow on the room and your cuddled up figures. The angle of the picture is lower and off to the side, Max or one of the kids must have taken it after you’d had a pizza and movie night. It hadn’t been too early in your relationship, you were just at the point where tentative emotions had settled into an acknowledgment of love.

Looking at the soft lighting of the picture now you could still feel the warmth of him against you and the way his hand would absently rub your back as he faded out of consciousness, he’d never been that soft around others before and it had melted you to know he was comfortable enough to do so then. It melted you even more now to know that that moment had meant as much to him as it had to you.

Pictures you’d never known existed fill the rest of the album, games from high school where you’re wearing his jacket, you on max’s skateboard and him laughing on the side followed by one of you on your butt and him by your side, one’s you’d remembered Tina taking but never seeing of Billy covered in beer and you in the crowd counting his keg time, the shirt he’d worn gripped in your hands because you’d known he’d leave it somewhere and lose it before the night was over.

Snapshots of your relationship were laid out before you ranging from special things like first dates to mundane images you’d never think of twice like one of you rearranging the living room in your first apartment together, all carefully laid out in chronological order.

“I didn’t even know some of these had been taken.” Your finger traces the glossy body of the Camaro in one of the pictures, you were in your swimsuit washing his car after losing a bet, that one you’d known he’d taken but had assumed he’d kept by his bed. Each memory had a date and a sentence or two under it, his scrawl much rougher than his mother’s had been but just as intimate in the way it revealed how each moment was special to him.

“She was always taking pictures, said it was important to save the good moments;” while they were there was left unsaid. “This is where I keep mine.”

@billysbabyy @boomhauer

Special thanks to @jo-harrington for all your help with this. 💕

[carl-grimes-fav-wife]

You and me Always, Forever Part 1 Carl Grimes x Female reader

THESE AREN'T MY CHARACTERS THEY ARE FROM THE WALKING DEAD SHOW Warnings: Blood, Mention of death, Cursing, Reader calling Daryl daddy (non sexual way he's her father you fool). N/n stands for nickname TEXT MEANING Purple: Y/n speaking Blue: Carl speaking Green: Other characters speaking Red: Sexual content/Topic Pink + Italics: Thoughts TIME PERIOD: END OF SEASON 3- START OF SEASON 4 Requested: No

He stood there. The boy that had been my best friend since the beginning of this whole shit show. Maggie was holding his newborn baby sister covered in blood. Rick was crying and screaming. But the only thing I was focused on was Carl. The poor boy had just lost his mom and his father wasn’t really comforting him. I was debating on whether or not to hug him. I ended up deciding to hug him. I ran over to him and wrapped my arms around him. “I’m so sorry Carl. I’m so, so sorry.” I said. He just stood there for a minute before hugging me back. “I-I killed her- I- I killed my mom, y/n…” I started to stroke his hair. “You did what you had to Carl. It’s not your fault. You’re not a bad person .” He just kept crying. I felt awful. His father went into the section Lori had died in. “Shh it’ll be okay Carl…”

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

A few weeks later Daryl and Maggie had just recently gotten back from getting baby supplies. I was sitting in Carl's cell with him with his baby sister. "She's really cute. You pick a name out yet?" "Yeah I guess she is... And no not yet" "Oh shit dads back. You good if I leave for a little bit? My dad just got back and-“ Carl had cut me off “JUST STOP Y/N! I'M NOT A BABY, I'M FINE TO BE BY MYSELF!” “I-I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make it seem like I thought you were... Never mind. I'll talk to you later Carl." I said walking off. "He just needs time to cool off... This is a lot for him. After all were still just kids." I took a few minutes before I went to find my dad. Once I did find him I walked over to him and hugged him. "HI daddy! Welcome back. I have a question. Do you think Carl will ever be happy again?" "Eventually. Yer just gotta give the kid some time. Alright, Pumpkin?" My dad said, hugging me back and kissing my forehead. "Okay daddy. Thank you." "Course pumpkin. I'd do anythin for ya sweetie. I'm gonna go check on Rick. Justa make sure Carl's alright?" "Okay daddy. Cya later!" I said running off to check on my bestfriend. "Cya sweetheart."

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A few months later "I hate her Carl! Ugh why did my dad have to bring her back here!" I said pacing back and forth in Carl's cell. "I dunno. What's so bad about her I think she's sorta nice." He said while laying on his bed "Carl! You're supposed to be on MY side! She's so annoying I hate her. I dunno why my dad even likes her she's not even that pretty." I stopped to look at him "You don't know for sure if he even likes her. She JUST got here. He's just being nice. I dunno what you want me to say Y/n." He looked over at me "Just listen I guess? You're my best friend. And he definitely does like her. I mean c'mon when is Daryl nice to anyone? Plus its not like you're happy with your dad either. After he let the governors people in." "But Y/n he found her. It's different. I wouldn't think to much about it. But anyways. You talk a lot. And you talk with your hands a lot" "Rude. And I do not!" "Its the truth n/n" "Whatever." "C'mon Y/nnnn don't be like that." "Ill do whatever I want." "You're cute when you're upset." "What?" "Nothing" "Carl I actually didn't hear you- whatever." I said sitting next to his bed "I'll tell you someday. Promise." He put his hat on my head and I smiled. "I'll hold you to that then, Grimes." "I know you will. Dixon." ----------------------------------- It had only been a few weeks since I had that conversation with Carl. We both thought things would get better. But boy, were we wrong. The governor had attacked again. Hershel died. Michonne almost died. I got separated from Carl. I thought the world was as shitty as it could get before but no. Without him everything seemed way worse. I was constantly worried if he was alive or not. I hope he was. I dunno what I'd do if I never saw him and his pretty blue eyes again. I'd probably die. This is all so weird. Before the apocalypse being friends with a boy would be weird. But now a boy's my best friend. And to make this whole shit show better when I got separated I also stuck with Valerie. I'm pretty sure my dad likes her. He acts like it. All I want is to just see my dad and Carl again. That's all I care about. They're all I care about. I will admit she can keep me alive. Sort've. But how long till she can't? ----------------------------------- Carl's POV No. No. I wish this was a all just a bad dream. But it wasn't. In the span of a few months I lost my mom, sister, and bestfriend. I used to think girls had cooties but now? Now I don't think their all that bad. I mean hell my bestfriends a girl. Probably the nicest and prettiest girl I've ever seen but that doesn't matter. What matters is making sure she didn't die. The only thing really stopping me from that is my dad. God I hate saying that but after we left the prison he was so beat up. He's trying but he's really starting to piss me off. He's acting as if he's stronger than me. He usually is but with the condition his in right now. He's practically useless. I get he's trying to protect me cause I'm his son and he just lost his daughter but still. I'm not a baby anymore and I don't need him treating me like one. He's doing an okay job taking care and protecting me now. But how long till he can't? ----------------------------------- Y/ns POV

Holy shit. It's him. It's actually him. I didn't think I'd ever see him again. I didn't know I could be this happy to see someone. HOLY SHIT. Dad was with them too?! I started crying. I was so happy. But dad didn't seem to notice me. He ran right to Valerie. Saying I was pissed and hurt was an understatement. But if he wanted to hug her first I would hug Carl first. I ran over to Carl and he ran to me and we hugged each other. "I thought I'd never see you again." "I didn't think I'd ever see you again ever either... Oh my god I love you so much Y/n. I lost Judith and I thought I lost you. I wouldn't be able to live with both of you gone. God I love you so much." I pulled away from him and looked at him. Still somewhat hugging. "Wait- Judith- she's? You love me?" "Yeah... I don't really wanna talk about it... And of course I do. You mean a lot to me." "I dunno what to say Carl... I love you too." "You do?" "Yeah... Yeah I do." "Good." He kissed my cheek and hugged me again. "I'd do anything for you, Y/n."

----------------------------------- I hoped you enjoyed! Sorry if it wasn't the best it's my first fanfic! Part two should be up soon!

[botan-kiri]

What if luffy was a clone of Garp?

I love this idea

Garp was visiting vegapunck and left somehow with a clone of himself who was practically a newborn. Garp told sengoku what had happened still confused himself. He was granted a year off duty to take care of the mini me and went to his home island Dawn. He named the clone Luffy and had some help raising him from makino. Over the years Luffy became his own person but still very much like Garp. When Luffy was 7 shanks came along and one time Garp was there and told him what Luffy was but shanks didn't care, shanks liked the kid too much. After shanks left and Luffy got a scar, devil fruit, and new straw hat Garp took him up to Dadan. He told the woman that Luffy was his grandson and pulled her aside and told her the truth. Most things go as cannon in the asl childhood except for Sabo seeing how similar Garp and Luffy actually are and how they didn't have any actual difference, Sabo told ace about his discovery. A few years after Sabo "died" Garp told ace the truth about luffy