#chicken duck woman thing

[bluemoonperegrine]

Definitely B

[sassyhazelowl]

Me @ the local exotic bird fair: I'm way too white for this -- oh *gasp* ITS A CHICKEN *immediately bypasses the emus and parrots to see the modern game bantams and old english games in the back*

[vorpalmuchness]

I found the best comment on the Bushes of Love video from Bad Lip Reading

[twerkyvulture]

making an updated fursona ref and GOD i only just realized how apt the Diogenes "featherless biped/behold a man!" story is both as a literal descriptor of the Twerkyvulture persona, and as a dead-on metaphor for my views on the arbitrary and sometimes silly nature of the gender binary

[fieriframes]

[SMITH: Chicken in the window. WOMAN: ...or you can try things that you've never tried. For example, here I have the duck tongue tacos. This play on traditional lengua with, like, beef tongue, but here done with duck tongue.]

[cosette-s]

Tonight's soundtrack. While Seagulls! (Stop it now) is honestly iconic this one pops up in my head from time to time and it's really a good song. My favorite part is the "I used to ride across the desert.." sequence; it has a very nostalgic feeling!

[muck-raker]

.

[humansofnewyork]

“When I was a kid I’d hide between the bedpost and the wall and read books about King Arthur. I wanted to be a knight. I wanted to be anything other than my father. We lived under his rule; it was horror. My mother was loving, and strong in many ways. But she wouldn’t leave him. I used to watch her wipe her own blood off the walls. When I was thirteen I ran away for good. I didn’t tell her a thing; I just disappeared. And I know she was hurt by that. I slept in the park with a whole crew of punks and addicts. People in the neighborhood would give me little jobs. They trusted me, and I never stole from them. Because I had honor. I’d rob a leather coat from Macy’s in a minute, but that’s Macy’s. I’d never take a woman’s pocketbook. I’d never break into a deli. No matter how far I fell, my honor never failed me. Music never failed me. And a good book never failed me. One day it was pouring down rain, and I ducked into a cubby hole. There was a copy of The Diary of Anne Frank; just laying there. I was stoned out of my face. And I knew nothing about this little girl. But it’s pouring down rain; there was nothing else to do. So I read the whole thing. She was beautiful. All this horror, but she was surviving. And that gave me strength. By the time I was twenty-five I had my own room, with a hot plate, and a pair of reeboks. I was playing music with some cool cats. I was proud. It’s like: I’m making it. When I finally got clean, the first thing I did was knock on my mother’s door. Hadn’t seen her for twenty years, but she gave me the biggest hug. She told me that every Sunday since I’d left, she’d lit a candle and prayed for my soul. That night she cooked some chicken, which I killed. Then she gave me what was left in some Tupperware. That was smart, because I had to bring back the Tupperware. And I never stopped coming back. I’m 66 now. I’m clean, I live comfortably, I’m financially OK. And I still go to see her every Sunday. She’s 94. She’s half-blind. She can’t hear. But I’ll bring her cake, and we’ll talk. She likes to take my hand, so she can feel my rings. And while we’re talking, I can tell: she’s in heaven. I was able to give her that. I gave her peace.”

[fanfictasia]

Flufftober Day 28

Picnic 

Spoiler: This is an excerpt from Shadows of Tomorrow

They slip out of the room, and Marr finally heads outside, into the moonlight lighting the houses. It’s always beautiful out here at night, though he’s also biased because it’s Mandalore. Mandalore never feels peaceful by nature, though, so it’s only times like this that the Force feels a little… calmer.

“Are you having a picnic out here at this hour?” Ahsoka asks snippily, appearing behind him.

He gives her an incredulous look. “You sound like Anastasia.”

She laughs, stepping out to join him at the railing. “Maybe I’ve been spending too much time around her.”

“Maybe,” Marr agrees, almost impulsively reaching over to take the Togruta’s hand.  She squeezes it back instantly.

“She tends to get on your nerves a lot.”

“I’m sure she’d like to be invited to this picnic. Should I call her?”

“No thanks. And where’d you pull ‘picnic’ from anyway?”

Ahsoka shrugs, smirking. “You know, the day we first met, I never thought you’d end up as the head of the Order.”

He still remembers that day – it’s one of his first memories. “I know. Or that you’d be one of the heads of the Rebellion.”

“Technically, you were,too.”

“True,” he concedes, “And I still remember you pulling my hair.”

“What can I say? It felt cool,” Ahsoka protests, “I never felt anything so stringy before that was attached to someone.”

“Stringy,” Marr repeats, “That’s some way to describe hair.”

“What else would you like to me to call it?”

“I don’t know, but hair isn’t stringy.”

She reaches up, yanking a few strands and he swats her hand away. “You know, I always thought our paths would… always be together, and maybe we were right after all.”

“Maybe,” Ahsoka agrees, eyeing him a little oddly, “What’s with you being so nostalgic tonight?”

“Maybe it just started with your tall tales of Anakin getting his face ripped off by a chicken with claws.”

She laughs. “What else was I was supposed to tell him?”

He shrugs. “Maybe something that wasn’t a horror story?”

“At least I didn’t add in gruesome details!”

[comicwritesstuff]

Vanessa Shelly/Afton x Fem!Reader

Reader is drunk and breaks into Freddys, Vanessa lets them off with a warning, but of course we have to go back and see the hot officer ;) 2k+ words SMUT BTW

18+ WARNINGSSS

Warnings: Dom!Vanessa, Sub!reader, lots of degrading, angry Vanessa, punishment sorta, a little bdsm, alcohol, fingering, getting eaten out and cursing.

Being 25 means having mid life crisis almost every day. And when your surprisingly fit, like to drink and really fucking stupid then the best thing to do is break into, and explore abandoned buildings. So that's what I’m doing. After drinking a whole bottle of wine and driving around like the responsible adult I am, I stumble upon a magnificent building. 

“Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria”, I snicker at the name and park super well (on the curb). I wattle my drunk ass around the building looking for a quick way in, I see a window and try to open it, after a couple minutes it finally budges, I open it and climb inside, falling on the dust filled floor. I giggle a bit then stand back up, just my luck I see a flashlight on the ground so I pick it up, smacking it a bit before it turns back on. Fun. I walk around, shining the flashlight at the various cobweb filled objects. I was to preoccupied on the spider crawling across the floor to hear the police officer that just walked into the building, I sprint out of the room that the spider was in, I fucking hate spiders. Apparently I caught the officer's attention after I sprinted across the room she was in, somehow not seeing her until she shouted at me. “Hey! Stop you're trespassing!” I don’t know what made me run faster, the thought of the spider, or the officer. A bit of both.

I run through the halls pausing looking around for somewhere to go, I see the doors to the kitchen so I slam the doors open, and shriek. There was a giant ass chicken, and I didn’t know if I was seeing it cause I was drunk but I really wasn’t in the mood to risk it. “AH WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT” Unforunately the officer was now right behind me, I didn’t realize that so when I went to run away again, she grabbed me. Ah shit. What a great night. 

“Why do you care about me, not the big ass chicken in the kitchen? Oh hey that rhymes.” I laughed at my joke, while the cop raised an eyebrow at me. “Are you drunk?” I look at the officer a little clearer, damn she's hot. “No I’m y/n, nice to meet you.” She stares at me for a second then looks away, trying not to laugh at me, she pulls me back up and holds tightly onto my arm while dragging me out of the building. I should really be putting more thought into the giant duck I just saw but all I can think about is the really pretty police woman holding my arm. 

It’s not until we get outside that I remember I'm really not in a good position to get arrested right now, so maybe I should stop admiring the police officer and make a run for it, while my drunk self tries to make up a plan of escape, I glance at her once more. Yeah, I'm gonna stay with her. She opens the side door to her cop car, motioning for me to sit in the car. She still holds the door open, and sighs. “Look, I can tell you weren’t really trying to start anything bad, you're just insanely drunk. So, I’ll let you off with a warning. If I ever see you come back here, drunk or not, I won’t hesitate to arrest your ass for trespassing, or a worse punishment.” I stare at her blankly, it takes me a couple seconds to process what she said. “So you're not arresting me?” She pinches the bridge of her nose before closing the door without saying anything. She walks around and gets in the front starting to drive, “Do you know your address.” I grin and nod, telling her my address. I started laughing a little bit, for no reason I just felt like laughing. I look back up at her and see her looking at me in the rearview mirror. She's got that look like she’s trying not to laugh at me but it's clearly not working. 

“So officer what's your name?” “Vanessa.” “Thas a really prettttty name.” I say slurring my words and giggling more. She glances at me again through the mirror, not saying anything, just grinning. “So how much did you drink exactly?” How much did I drink? I don’t remember so I answer the best I can. “Yes.” I hear her sigh while I’m looking at the raindrops on the window. “Yes? That's your best answer for how much you drank? Jesus you’re really drunk.” I whip my head around frustrated. “How many times do I need to tell you? I’m y/n not these names you keep calling me” I say in an angry tone. I see her bite her lip, grinning even more, clearly trying with all her might not to laugh at me. She composes herself before glaring at me through the mirror. “Don’t use that tone with me, I can still arrest you.” That was hot anyways, oh hey that's my house. “How’d you know my address?” I am baffled as she gets out of the car without answering me. She pulls me out of her cop car dragging me to my doorstep. “Open the door.” She tells me sternly, so I open it quickly. She follows me inside my house, looking around and taking the last bottle of wine I have left without me noticing. I see my couch and go to sit down then I decide to just flop down, I immediately fall asleep. Vanessa hears the plop sound of me passing out on my couch and smirks, walking over she finds a blanket, laying it over me. She does one last search for any more alcohol then finally leaves. 

I wake up with the worst headache ever, I stumble into my kitchen quickly chugging like 3 glasses of water before I notice the note on the counter. “No more drinking, don’t go back to Freddy’s. I drove your car back to your house. I took the rest of your alcohol and left your keys on the counter, take care. -Officer Vanessa”. Oh so that wasn’t some weird porno dream without the porn part about a cop. Staring at the note I decide to do the sensible thing that any person would do, go back to Freddy’s, even with a bad headache. Since she took my alcohol I'm going sober, and with the one brain cell I have sober I grab a flashlight this time. I also grab a hammer (for some reason??). I grab the keys and hop into my car, then I see another note there. “Don’t do it.” That's all the note said, she knew me for an hour and she already knows what i’m planning on doing, well she is a cop. I drove to Freddys, there isn’t a cop car, she probably forgot about me. 

I park in the front and go up to the building. It would be so cool to get on the roof. And so that's what I do, with my flashlight in my bra and the hammer in my mouth so I can climb easier. It was surprisingly easy to get up there. So I sit on the edge of it, swinging my feet waiting patiently for Vanessa to show up. It actually takes a lot longer than I wanted it to, I’m laying on the edge now, on my back staring at the sky. I only sit up once I hear the sound of tires pulling into the parking lot. Oh shit, she’s here. Well, I mean I wanted her to show up, so what did I expect? Vanessa slams her car door shut, and I mean slam, like she is pissed and it's obvious. She walks underneath where I’m sitting, looking up at me. “Get. The. Fuck. Down.” My face turns pale, ohh im fucked, and turned on. “Make me.” She cocks her head, before angrily smirking and with little to no effort, climbing to the top, I stare at her dumbfounded. She walks up to me, pulling out her gun pressing it into my stomach, hard. With her other hand she grabs the collar of my shirt. She pulls me off the edge, I gasp and stumble a bit, I didn’t really expect her to be THIS aggressive. “Climb down, if you run, I will shoot you.” I climbed down and waited at the bottom, I wasn’t in the mood to be shot. Once Vanessa got down she pressed the gun against my hip, standing behind me, she wrapped her other hand around the back of my neck, digging her nails into me. I whimper feeling her nails in my skin, she smirks as I do so. Walking me to her car, she slams me against the car, knocking the breath out of me, she handcuffs me before shoving me into the front seat. 

That's odd, I thought criminals sat in the back. Vanessa gets in the driver's seat, slamming the door shut again, but not driving. Her knuckles are turning white from how hard she's grabbing the steering wheel. “Why are you so upset? I didn’t do anything.” I say not looking at her, honestly a little scared. “One because I told you to do one simple fucking thing, and you didn’t listen did you?” I don't say anything. “That's right, and two you don’t know how dangerous that place is, I was trying to protect you and you have to come back out here like the brat you fucking are.” I gulp, my heart racing. To be honest I'm hella ashamed at how wet I am just from her being mean to me. I can feel her staring dead at me, but all of a sudden I just can’t bring myself to look at her. I'm praying that my face isn’t as red as I think it is. “Hah, are you really turned on by this?” She teases, well shit, I guess I am that red. “No! I'm not I..I swear.” The most obvious lie I think I’ve said. “Sure.” She says, finally starting to drive. It’s completely quiet in the car. Suddenly I feel Vanessa move her hand to my thigh and move it painfully slowly towards my core. I freeze up, I can instantly feel me soaking through my underwear. Vanessa moves her hand up sliding it into my pants and over my panties. She teasingly only puts one finger on my clit, before slowly starting to put pressure on it. “You should have stayed home brat.” She starts rubbing my clit with the same annoyingly soft pressure as before, I let out a soft whimper, I struggle a bit in the handcuffs, fuck, I can’t even move my arms since they are behind my fucking back. “But you're such an attention whore, huh?” She increases the pressure only a bit, rubbing at the same agonizing pace. I glance at her, she hasn’t taken her eyes off the road once, and she’s purposefully driving slow. 

She keeps that same pace for a couple minutes, before I can’t take it anymore. “Vanessa…please..” I say whiningly. “Not so cocky anymore? To busy wanting me to fuck you?” My cheeks heat up with embarrassment. To my surprise she slides her fingers past my panties, shoving two fingers inside me, causing me to buck my hips, and moan. “Look at you, so desperate for me like the little slut you are.” She curls her fingers, thrusting them rapidly, the only sounds in the car are my moans and whimpers that are embarrassingly loud. “I love all the pretty little sounds you're making for me baby, being such a good bitch.” Arching my back, I feel my climax already building up. “Nessa, I…I’m gonna cum..” I mutter, barely able to say anything before she swiftly pulls her fingers out of my pants, licking them clean and putting her hand back on the steering wheel. There's nothing I can do except sit there, and wait for her to do something again, I can’t move my hands, and rubbing my legs together isn’t enough friction, besides if I tried that I’m sure she’d shut it down real quick. Her gaze stays on the road, not bothering to look at me once, even when we stop. From Freddy’s it takes about 20 minutes to get to my house, so I had to wait 5 more minutes before we pulled into my driveway. I couldn’t tell if she was purposefully doing things slowly, or if it felt slow because of how desperately i wanted her to fuck me. Either way, once she finally got to my side of the car she opened my door and grabbed the collar of my shirt again, lifting me out of the car then pulling me to the door. She reaches into my pants pocket grabbing my key and unlocking the door, after we both get inside, Vanessa immediately pulls me into a kiss, her lips slamming onto mine with an unholy amount of lust. 

God, all I wanted was to wrap my arms around her neck, anything to deepen the kiss but the handcuffs stayed on, she pulled me to my bedroom, how did she know where it was? I don't know but frankly, I don’t care right now. Vanessa throws me on my bed, crawling on top of me. She starts leaving hickeys all over my jaw, and my neck. “I want people to know how much of a slut you are, baby.” Chills go down my back as she slowly traces her fingers down to my pants, before I lift my hips so she can slide them off. She starts leaving kisses on my inner thigh before she uses her teeth to pull my underwear down to my thighs, using her hands to get them off the rest of the way. “Be a good whore and keep your legs spread wide for me, can you do that baby?” I whine, nodding. “Yes Nessie”.

“Good girl.” She says before she quickly starts licking and sucking on my clit. At first not too fast, and Vanessa was planning on going slowly before she got a taste, then even she couldn’t resist it. Picking up the pace, she keeps sucking on my clit before curling two fingers inside my folds. How fast she's going catches me off guard, I arch my back, moaning loudly, I bite my lip trying not to be as loud as I was, not wanting anyone to hear us. As I become more quiet, Vanessa slows down. “Uh uh baby, I want to hear all the sounds you're making for me, or I'm not gonna let you cum again.” I whimper in protest but nod anyway as she now speeds up even more. She shoves another finger inside my tight pussy, curling them and hitting my sweet spot perfectly every time, and I listen to what she says and let out all the moans and whimpers I can, not caring how loud I'm being. “Fuck, V-vanessa Im cumming” “No your not. Not until I say.” She thrusts her fingers even harder and faster than before, I can barely hold it. “Fuck please Vanessa!” I shout at her in desperation, she doesn’t say anything for a couple seconds, the pain of holding it back getting to me as a few tears run down my cheeks. “Cum for me, my little slut.” And with one more curl of her fingers, I come harder than I have before, she lets me ride out the orgasm a little bit before licking my cunt clean. 

“You did so good for me, love.” She leans up, kissing me softly and wiping the few tears from my face. “Can you sit up for me baby so I can uncuff you?” I listen to her, already exhausted from the little she’s done to me, to be far I haven’t even had sex in a couple of years, let alone an orgasm that hard. After she uncuffs me, she grabs my blanket, covering the both of us as I cuddle into her chest, quickly falling asleep. 

THANKS FOR READING HOPE U LIKED IT :)

[ceruleanchillin]

141 x American Reader

141 x American Fem!Reader

Note -

I was trying to do some quick scenarios and got caught up. I still have yet to figure out how to get in and get out with my writing.

I had to do some research to see if they had a PX (The Exchange) in the UK, and they do! They even have a Charley’s.

I need so much more practice until I'm more confident in these characters (and their accents...)😩

Simon:

Boston wasn’t terrible in Simon’s eyes, but he would still rather be home. He wasn’t really on leave, he had business on behalf of the task force with some American contacts. However, it was a lot of downtime and waiting, and it was twisting his head around to be working and resting so frequently together. He liked most things separate, easier that way.

He’d certainly been in worse places to wait in. Worse safe houses, more unfamiliar environments where his anti-social quirks made trouble, no chance at a decent pub like the one he’d taken to frequenting a few blocks from the safe house.

He was approaching the very same pub at the moment. Mind racing to mentally prepare for his next briefing with Price and Laswell. He didn’t have much, the contacts seemed to be dragging their feet, and Simon was in a daily battle not to just go gather the intel himself and be done with it.

He went to pull the door, but through the glass, saw you behind the counter. That was strange, you worked on weekends. He knew, because once he connected his increased heartbeat and uncomfortably hot cheeks to you, he started avoiding the place. 

It may have been the most authentic pub he’d encountered in America so far, but you were the prettiest woman he’d ever seen, and only one of these things made him sweat like he was back in basic.

He started to back away, but you’d seen him through the age-warped glass and were waving him in.

“You stupid pint-addict bastard.” he muttered, unnecessarily triple checking to make sure his mask was in place. 

He’d honored his promise to Price, and kept to a half mask instead of his usual balaclava. At first he was tense, short when spoken to, and constantly running a hand through his hair to momentarily shield his face. The half mask helped, but not much. It just reminded him he wasn’t where he felt he should be. He wasn’t the one to play the diplomat

However, on your first meeting, you’d complimented the contrast between his eyelashes and his dark eyes. Between that, and you pouring his Guinness at an angle, the right way, he’d had to clear his throat twice before he felt it was safe to respond. He couldn’t remember what he said, his ears had rung like a flashbang went off too close.

It must have been smooth, because you ducked your head and quickly turned so he couldn’t see you grin. Too slow, for all the vistas and colorful fabrics he’d seen in his travels, your smile had taken the prize.

“Hey! Saved your seat!” you called out over the din, pointing to the rounded corner of the bar where there was only stool and a column to block him from most patrons. “Even though I shouldn’t have. You’ve been avoiding me, and don’t deny it. My co-workers have no filter.”

He winced, you’d caught him red handed. “Not avoiding you. Just working.”

“At avoiding me.” you stuck your tongue out at him.

It was surprisingly packed for a weekday, and as he got closer to the bar, he noticed there was some sort of event going on. Drink specials, a pool tournament, and calls to tourists. He cursed, and considered how fast he could down his drink and fake a work call.

“Sit.” you pinned him with a look. “I need another sane adult around me, now.”

“Sane?” he snorted. “You’ve got the wrong bloke in mind.”

“Yeah? You wanna go up against the kid who’s pledging and has been wearing that chicken suit for two weeks, or the “actress” who keeps switching characters with every drink?” You raised an eyebrow, pointing out your subjects without a care about looking rude.

“I wanna get on the first thing flying or floating out of here.” 

“Take me with you, or I’ll steal your passport.” you slid the Guinness towards him, before leaning on your elbows, and closing some of the distance between you.

Simon had been tortured, beaten, and had given his fair share of the same back. He’d stared hardened terrorists in the eyes and made them back down every time. It was pretty silly of him, and he certainly felt it, to falter under your gaze, and yet he did. 

His fingers danced around the bottom of the glass, letting the drink settle, before he lowered his mask and took a big sip. “You don’t have to bribe me love, just say the word and we’re gone.”

He wasn’t often embarrassed. Sometimes, Johnny made him cringe, but he was usually too removed from a situation, and the people in it, to allow for such an emotion. He’d long stopped caring about the looks he, as a masked behemoth, received and whatever thoughts were behind the eyes on him.

Of course, he couldn’t do that with you. He didn’t want to, but he literally couldn’t anyways. So he had to sit there, heat rising to his cheeks, and a mental mantra of ‘shoot me’ ringing through his head on a loop.

To his barely noticeable relief, your gaze somehow grew warmer, a smile spreading across your pretty face. “I’m holding you to that Si. You don’t get to blame the alcohol either, you’ve barely touched your drink.”

It was comfortably quiet between the two of you after that. You returned to work as your co-workers got less and less professional. Things got crazier, but it did allow for him to be mostly ignored in his corner, which he was thankful for. He felt for you though.

He had to play bouncer once when a guy got behind the bar, thinking you denied his number because you couldn’t hear him.

The look in your eyes as you sought distance made Simon act purely on instinct. His speed, size, and training ended the situation quickly. You’d given a relieved exhale of air, and ran a hand down his arm before you ran off to respond to a glass crisis. It occurred to him right then how far he’d go for you. As far as he would for his team, whom he considered something around the range of family.

It frightened him that he’d only known you a few weeks, yet your connection had gotten him this far, but there was nowhere to run from the truth internally. If there was, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.

By closing, he was the last customer, and he’d offered to stay while you close up. It wasn’t the first time.

“You better.” you grinned, wiping down the bar.

He started to help you by turning the chairs up on to the tables, and junking miscellaneous trash. He laughed when he heard you shouting about how someone got vomit on the ceiling in the bathroom.

“Fuck it lovie, make the layabouts earn their keep tomorrow.” he called out in response.

He was deep in thought about where he was and what he was doing when he turned and saw you standing by him. You got the rare jump on him.

“Don’t think I’m crazy, or do, because maybe I am. I know you were joking earlier, but I really wish you weren’t.” you threw the formerly white rag in your hand in the trash, smiling, but your eyes held the same vulnerability he always felt around you.

He blinked owlishly, processing your words before standing up to his full height. “I wasn’t joking.”

—

Kyle:

You’re a party girl to your core, but you can’t help it. You run your own bath products company, and it’s hard work. No one should blame you for playing hard to match.

Gaz certainly didn’t blame you, in fact, your vibrant social media is what drew him in. He’d been constantly checking his phone on base, to the annoyance of his partner-in-crime Soap when their pranks and game time started to lack, because Gaz had to check what your new post alert was about. 

It took him a minute, but he figured out your page was what Gaz was looking at (and so secretive about). He figured it out when Gaz started watching your live streams, and became so engrossed, Price would have to literally clap him on the back to get him on task. 

Soap knew he could forget any plans made if you started a live.

Damnit, he wanted to know who was stealing one of his best mates.

Once he saw you in full, and not glancing around Gaz’s big head, he got it. You were beautiful, vibrant, obviously in the city’s in-crowd. You would’ve fit in perfectly with him and his mates as far as your ability to sniff out a good time went. He couldn’t be mad at you anymore, and it wasn’t just because he had a minor crush on you himself, he knew his friend was gone, and decided to help him out.

He swiped Gaz’s phone and sent him on a wild goose chase so he’d have time to act. Soap put everything he had into that first message, though it wasn’t until after he sent it, he realized it was full of Scots lingo, and he cringed trying to clean it up in the following message. He realized he’d made it worse, and the DM thread looked like a tweaker got hold of the phone.

“What are you doing?” Gaz sounded both panicked and furious, causing Soap to freeze in real time.

“Uh.., I needed…to order food?”

“Bruv, with my phone?!”

“I…also..wanted to find out where you got..that hat.”

Gaz blinked at him, with an expression that clearly asked if Soap’s last brain cell had finally found a better job.

“You were there with me, it was at The Exchange. Give me my phone.”

Soap instinctively yanked the phone out of reach. “Uh, well..wait.”

Gaz’s eyes widened, voice rising. “Mate, hand the phone over or-“

The DM message notification rang out loud enough to silence Gaz immediately. His eyes somehow got wider, his lips forming a tight line.

Soap’s eyes mirrored his own, and his fight or flight instinct was triggered. “I swear…I did this for ye, not to ye this time. Ye cannae be mad about it.”

A beat passed, and Soap tried to ease the incoming meltdown a little more.

“I may have messed the introduction up a little, but I bet she went for the follow up.”

Gaz said nothing, opting instead to lunge for the device. Soap, confused and thinking Gaz was going to strike him, wasn’t fast enough, and though he outmatched Gaz in muscle, said man still took him down.

“Who are you messaging?!”

They rolled, and Soap tried to simultaneously keep Gaz from punching him, while he kept the phone stretched away from them. Another *ding* rang out, and Gaz glanced up to see a notification that contained your user name, and that you had responded. He assumed twice.

He felt his heart drop out of his ass, his eyes locking with Soap’s.

His next punch struck like a snake, fast and quick to Soap’s throat. Said man’s eyes crossed up, and Gaz took the time to try and grab the phone. He was surprised to find Soap’s grip as tight as ever.

“I’ll hand it over when ye promise not to blow up!”

“I promise to crack your chest!”

They continued to roll on the floor, Soap getting his second-wind after Gaz’s threat. Gaz, driven by what he knew had to be the biggest embarrassment of his life coming his way, and Soap by the need to explain his attempt at a good deed.

Two polished boots came into view and a sharp bark of “Knock it the fuck off!” ended the tussle immediately. 

Both men sat up, hair and clothing askew, chests heaving with adrenaline.

“What the hell is going on here?” John Price’s infamous gravel inflection hit the both of them, stiffening their spines pole straight.

Nothing came out though. It wasn’t exactly a thing you wanted to tell your captain. Both assumed he thought social media was the Yahoo homepage anyways.

He looked between them, neither meeting his gaze. “Right. Hand it over then.”

Gaz choked. On what, he couldn’t say, probably his dwindling pride. “Just uh…a little sport Captain.”

Soap glanced between them before his blue eyes settled on Price. “Yeah. What’s it gonna be Cap? Run laps, scrub latrines, we’ll take the worst.”

“Don’t worry about that, that’s a given and then some. The phone MacTavish.”

John Price rarely had to demand anything a second time, and neither Soap nor Gaz wanted to be responsible for making him do it a third. Soap gave him an apologetic side glance as he handed over the phone. Gaz cringed, feeling like a kid in class again, getting busted for swapping gross drawings of teachers.

“One of you, open it.” Price held the phone out between the two of them. Gaz sighed and input the code locking down the device.

Price pulled the phone back, and, much too efficiently for Gaz’s taste, began swiping. 

Price’s eyes scanned back and forth, and Gaz had to assume he was reading what he still hadn’t had a chance to.

After a beat, Price looked up in disbelief. “All this over a posh little beauty queen? Do you two want the one-four-one to be synonymous with a joke?”

Gaz would serve the mole-people through infinity if it meant they’d make the ground swallow him up right there. How his day had advanced to this was beyond him.

“Captain-“

Price turned to him, brows raised. “You better be glad she likes you and it wasn’t a total waste, or I’d rent you out to the circus like the clowns you two are.”

Gaz stepped back on one foot, his head snapping in disbelief. “Wait..she wha-“

“So it worked then yeah?!” Soap grinned, a breathy laugh supporting his exclamation before quickly straightening up. “I mean, I knew that it would. That’s why I did it.”

“It worked in spite of you spike strip.” Price tossed the phone to Gaz as Soap ran a hand over his treasured mohawk, pouting at the dig. “For whatever reason, that pretty little thing is interested in him.”

Hearing Price confirm your response was positive didn’t make it any easier to believe than the first time he heard it. He had yet to read whatever his dumbass friend sent your way, but…you liked it?

Gaz brought the phone to his face, and started to open the app so he could finally see for himself.

“I don’t think so.” Price warned with a sharp shake of his head. “That goes in your locker, now, and the two of you meet me out on the track.”

Gaz and Soap both hung their heads.

“Hopefully she comes to her senses by the time you’re able to even hold that thing again, let alone use it.”

“Yes sir.” Gaz locked the phone again, but he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

You must’ve looked at his page, and no matter what crazy thing Soap had sent you, you liked him. 

That knowledge carried him through so many laps on the track he vomited up things he swore he hadn’t eaten since he was 5, scrubbing bunks and latrines on his hands and knees until a hole opened in his pants over one knee, and endless up-downs until he and Soap had to literally pull each other up and help each other down.

When he finally collapsed in the locker room later, swearing he’d make it to the shower before he even thought of climbing in bed, he managed to dig his phone out of his locker first.

He was suddenly nervous, you were so gorgeous to him, and if your response was some pitying virtual head pat, he’d jump in front of the next Humvee he saw.

Then again, it was Price who said you liked him, and the man had no reason to or interest in making him feel better about the matter.

He unlocked the phone and quickly opened the app before he lost his nerve. 

You: ‘Um excuse me???’

He winced.

You: ‘Oh wait, I checked out your page. You’re from the UK? I didn’t know what you were saying😅. I still kinda don’t, but now I don’t think you’re creepy…you’re actually pretty cute. Thanks for your service.😘🫡’

His heartbeat sped up, and all his aches and bodily gripes were forgotten as he leaned forward on the bench. You had all his attention, and you quite possibly didn’t mind that.

He smirked, proud of his carefully curated page and the body his job helped him maintain. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how silly he was for worrying. Of course you had some interest in him, he could match your energy with ease.

He opened the keyboard ready to respond when all his short-lived bravado fell down around him. What the fuck was he supposed to say back?

—————

Johnny:

It made the two of you somewhat uncomfortable when you thought about how much chance it took for you guys to meet. The thought of not being together felt more foreign than you two ever had to each other. Johnny chose not to dwell on it, accepting how lucky he was often overshadowed the thought.

Your best friend since college was getting married, and you were not only maid of honor, but the wedding planner. Scotland was the homeland of your friend, and you knew on a good day she missed it with her whole heart. 

You did your best to incorporate her culture and her friends and family abroad into the ceremony.

This, it turned out, included her brother’s best friend John “Soap” MacTavish, who was also a family friend.

“Is Soap a um…traditional Scottish name?” you’d asked, holding up the name list she’d given you, and thinking your friend was setting you up for a joke.

“He was Johnny for years, but he came back from his dream job, built like a house, and was like ‘They call me Soap now.’.” she deepened her accent and voice to mock what you assumed he sounded like. “Don’t pay it any mind, he’s still our Johnny.”

So John “They call me Soap now” MacTavish was sent an invitation too. What you did not expect was her family to come into the country as quickly as they did. You still had a few weeks of planning, and from the moment they flooded her townhome, you were swept into their familial hurricane.

They couldn’t have been sweeter to you, but they all had input. You were overwhelmed within 30 minutes of being with them, despite your friend reeling them in repeatedly.

Johnny became your touchstone when, based on his energetic introduction, you expected him to be part of the chaos.

As you took notes and suggestions, he was the one who translated when the accents got too thick, or they slipped into Scots.

Someone got a little too aggressive with their suggestion, or talked over you? Johnny was calling out over the din and restoring the closest thing to order that he could.

His helpfulness didn’t end that evening. He became your living official Scotland handbook. 

The work you’d dreaded being added on top of what you already had to do found a partial home on his shoulders. Every choice you brought before your friend and her family received loud approval, and Johnny refused your credit every time. Claiming it was your beautiful, quick, and organized mind making the magic happen.

He was at your place bright and early every morning, the two of you forgetting you were virtually strangers who’d been thousands of miles apart the majority of your lives.

In the process of planning and arranging, you showed Johnny your neck of the woods, and the culture in Atlanta. He was fascinated by everything and you’d never been happier, having his complete and utter interest.

He loved your accent, he loved how friendly the people in the mom and pop places you took him to were, he loved how proud you were to be a Georgia girl.

He would always be a proud son of Scotland, so he got it.

“You’re really eatin’ the third one now?!” you laughed watching Johnny go through his third hot chicken sandwich. “Boy, you’re crazy!”

“And well fed too yeah.” he grinned around the huge bite he’d taken. “I’d punch Ghost square in the back of his head if they’d bring a Hattie B’s to Scotland. Of course, I’d have to stand on a stool.”

“Ghost?” you raised an eyebrow, swallowing the fry you’d been chewing.

“Oh yeah, my best mate in the service. He’s like a fuckin’ tree….if trees hit really hard and were just generally terrifying.”

Your eyes widened. “You’re in the service, that’s so cool. Is that the dream job?”

His eyes widened, his chest puffing out in pride at your words. “I am, youngest member to make it into my unit too. Got lucky with a pretty good team.”

“That where you get the name Soap? What is that about by the way?” 

He stopped chewing, swallowing hard. Visions of what his nickname referred to came to mind, and he felt like a wall was coming between the two of you. He wasn’t ashamed of his career, or most of the things he’d done to maintain it, but it’d been nice to almost be a civilian again. He hadn’t been just John or Johnny in a long time.

The distance from home, and the crush he wasn’t even going to pretend he didn’t have, helping the fantasy.

 “Yeah.” 

You senses the tone change, and started to withdraw your curiosity. “We can drop it.”

“Nah, it’s not a bad thing Bonnie, it’s just…” he furrowed his brow in thought, and you resisted the hard urge to touch him. “This is the first leave I’ve had in…maybe ever that I don’t feel a thin wall ‘tween me and my people. It’s just nice for a little bit.”

“Say less.” You pushed your seasoned fries towards him, snorting at his excited expression. “Let’s talk about how much I love it when you call me Bonnie instead.”

He choked, and your small hands found his back, pounding on what felt like a stone wall. “Jesus hen, you can’t just drop somethin’ like that when a man’s mid swallow.”

You brushed your hand over the back of his neck as you retracted it back to your person. Lowering your voice to a soft decibel. “I like when you call me that too.”

——

John Price:

How he’d let himself be talked into a cruise of all things, John would never know. 

….

That wasn’t true.

The pretty American office worker flagged him down when he went in for his briefing with the higher ups. She looked distressed, and John could feel that protective nature of his rear up in his chest and stiffen his spine. Before he could even register that he’d spoken, he’d told her whatever his help could provide, it was hers.

She’d flustered at that, tucking some hair behind her ear, and gave a sheepish smile. Her reaction sent a shock of pride from his brain to his cock.

She explained how she and a friend group back home had made plans for a week-long cruise out of Florida. She’d been looking forward to it, missing her home country, and having planned it out very carefully in the group chat. Then, earlier that week, it was brought to the light that one of the girls slept with the husband of another one. 

Sides were taken, she was attacked for being out of the country and unaware of the nuanced changes in the group, and then all the girls pulled out, essentially leaving her holding four tickets and the shreds of a perfect vacation.

That was you. A mess who’d been arguing with the travel agency, trying to wrangle all of your friends, and figure out how you wound up wasting several thousand dollars at that point.

John just stood there, like a coat rack with a bucket hat on top. Stiff, and unsure of what to do, say, or even what expression he should school his shocked features into. 

He stood there long enough for you to become embarrassed and wave him off and return to your desk.

“I’m so sorry I bothered you. God, you’re a Captain! It’s just, my momma and daddy have been on me from the beginning about how much of waste a trip like this is…‘girl why would you spend that much to float in the ocean with a bunch of strangers, you can borrow our boat and fish in the lake for free’.” you trailed off, realizing you were rambling and shoved your face in your hands.

He thought you were adorable. Most days, he wanted to find the nearest surface and have you on it, only to be embarrassed that at his age, he was thinking like a teenager. 

However, right then you were just plain adorable, accent in full swing because you were upset. John knew you were from somewhere in the southern US. Louisiana? Texas?

He approached your desk, hands splayed as he leaned his weight forward. “Love, it’s not a problem. I’m just not sure what I can do about it…aside from hunting down the husband and siccing Laswell on the other girl.”

You gave a full belly laugh. “That could work.”

He grinned, sitting on the edge of the desk, deciding he wanted more of the laugh and soon.

You quieted and started fiddling with a pen that’d been nearby. “But seriously…I would never ask you this if I thought I had other options. It’s just…you’re the person I’ve gotten closest to so far here, and um..I spent so much on those tickets. I even saved from my first paycheck into this last one..”

Your words were coming out fast and close, but John could pick them out. Admitting he was closer to you than anyone in the country warmed him so much, he didn’t care if the next words out of your mouth were asking him to reimburse you. He couldn’t imagine what else you could ask for, but at that point he’d do it.

“Do you mind filling in those spots for me with your team? It’s a perfect amount of tickets, and then I won’t be all alone, and it won’t be a waste, and just ugh! I need you to save my ass Captain Price.” you looked up at him with wide pleading eyes.

For a fraction of  second, Price wondered if you knew what you did to him, and that you could use that look to take over the mind of a weapon western governments spent a small fortune to train.

Then your request hit him like a train. You wanted him, and the adult nursery school he’d wrangled into the formation of the 141 to crash your vacation? Your sanity was up for debate.

“At any given time I’m working with half a shared brain cell between two muppets, and their long-suffering murder pet. I don’t think you’ve thought this through.”

“Oh.”

“In fact, their jackets read like the instructions for taking care of a Gremlin. No cruises is pretty high up there.” John tried to humor his way out of the suggestion until he caught sight of your face. 

You looked so disappointed, but then your expression shifted to one he couldn’t quite read.

“But you’d be there wouldn’t you?” wide pleading eyes just for him, trained on him.

He flushed, reluctantly stepping around what may have been the flirtatious tactic.  “Spending my leave pulling duty as a zoo keeper.”

“Work on your tan then Casper, I’m worried about you. You’d disappear in a snow storm.” You switched up your tactic again, hoping to amuse him into helping.

Price gave a full-belly laugh of his own, the kind he’d rarely even consider letting out at work.  “Negging me isn’t going to work love, I’d stick with begging.”

“Damn.” John watched you rise up again, slipping around your desk in heels he couldn’t stare at too long if he wanted to remain professional. “John Price, I swear if you don’t say yes after this, I don’t care where you are on this base I will find you. There, I will salt your coffee and unravel your cigars.”

You inhaled.“Johncanyouandtherestofthe141takethesdamnticketsbeforeIsnap?”

John pretended to think, enjoying watching you literally squirm from the corner of his eye. Despite the jokes, John wasn’t truly an old man, but you did make him feel much younger than he was and he liked it.

He liked the tiny carefree moments he spent with you throughout the day, and he supposed that’d be nice for one sunny week. 

“I’ll toss it to the lads, see what they say, and I’ll get back to you.”

“Meaning you’re going to make them do it.”

“Precisely.”

——-

As he stood before his men, he cursed his gentlemanly nature when faced with a woman in need. Well, if he was being entirely honest, he wasn’t being gentlemanly, and maybe this was what he deserved.  

It wasn’t chivalry alone, it was pure, unadulterated thirst. He wanted you the way a very hungry man wanted a woman, and he was thinly veiling it behind a tip of the top hat and cane.

Gaz and Soap made him feel like the 141 father the higher ups teased him about being. They reacted as though daddy came home with a promise of DisneyLand.

“The last time you told us to pack, I was picking small snakes out of my pack for over an hour. Gotta say, I want this to be a habit Captain.” Gaz was grinning, phone already in hand as he searched for vacation clothes.

“Yeah. Didn’t expect this when I woke up this mornin’. You’re not tryin’ to infringe on my prank brand right sir?”

Ghost reacted as predicted. Posture stiff, arms crossed, and his eyes doing all the talking. They said a number of ways Price should die, an even greater number of ways he could go fuck himself, and that he’d try whatever he could to get out of it.

“You’re not getting out of it.” Price dashed that dream immediately, but he’d let him fantasize about killing him all cruise long if it helped.

“Why would you want to L.T.?” Soap looked up from where he’d been trying to add items he wanted into Gaz’s cart. “Mud in yer boots, or bikinis and a pint? Pretty hard choice.”

“I don’t wanna see you in a bikini, mate.” Gaz quipped, a grunt leaving him when Soap punched his shoulder.

Price ignored that, and interrupted on the off chance that Ghost would entertain Soap with an answer. “Everyone’s going, It’s one week and you’ve all seen worse. You will be on time, you will behave and represent this unit accordingly, and by god you will all be gracious for the opportunity.”

The last line was meant specifically for Ghost. 

Said man smirked behind the mask, tiny details revealed this if you knew what to look for. “Don’t worry sir, I’ll be on my best behavior for your pretty little office bird.”

Price swallowed hard, rolling his eyes up to the ceiling as he counted to ten, and ignored Soap and Gaz’s aggressive inquiries. He was definitely being punished.

[aquitainequeen]

People out there complaining about the story of Poor Things and trying to critically analyse it, and I'm just.

My friends. My friends. It's a satire. It's a weird fairy tale. Godwin Baxter burps a perfect bubble every time he finishes his meal. There's a chicken with a bulldog's head and a goat with a duck's head. Baxter slides a woman's brain out of her skull in one piece, like taking a book out of a shelf. Bella goes everywhere in shorts in late nineteenth century Europe and isn't arrested for public indecency. It's a dream.

[kararomanoff]

who's your mommy?

This was written by a minor, if you don’t like that that’s okay you don’t need to read.

when Natasha comes over for a week to stay with you and your mom, she learns that you may have had sex with your now ex girlfriend but your hers? Can’t you see that

warning: smut, mommy kink, innocence kink, double sided dildo, legal age gap, pet names(detka means baby in Russian)

this is shit, I apologise for the terrible writing

its summer break from collage and you where back in your home town for a bit staying in your child hood home.

You had grown up with only your mom and big brother, your dad had left when you where 6 for another woman and it broke your mothers beautiful heart, Natasha had come to stay for a year and a half after the day he left to help as your mom had a depressive episode.

eventually you guys became like a little family, you, your mom, your 11 year old big brother and Natasha. you still remember it, you still remember the day she surprised you by taking you out of school for the day and took you to the zoo and you accidently called her mommy.

after a year and a half Natasha had to leave and go back to New York, you never stopped missing her even to this day at 20 you never stopped, of course you still saw her but only every so often, every few years and every time she saw you it always made her proud for the good smart girl you turned out to be.

but lately she had seen you a bit differently, in a more inappropriate way.

today Natasha was coming to visit you and your mom. There was never really anyway to describe how seeing Natasha again made you feel; nervous or excited or maybe scared which was absolutely stupid cause you loved her and she loved you like a daughter, or so you thought and awhile ago she thought the same thing.

''helloo'' the door opens and you hear Natasha shout, you jump up from your seat running to the front door and jumping into her arms ''NATTY!!!'' you shout in her ear with excitement ''detka'' she replys with the same excitement as she holds you as close as possible, smelling your coconut scented hair.

''Natasha'' your moms voice sounds through the front hall of your suburban house. Natasha reluctantly puts you back on the ground and walks over to your mom giving her a big hug and you can see the giant happy smile on your moms face, happy to see her best friend and that some how made your smile grow impossibly bigger knowing how Natasha had always been there for the woman you gave you life no matter what.

you walk up to them pulling Natasha out of your moms arms ''Natty i want your attention, i've not seen you in foreverrrrr!!!'' you whine

''And here i was going to say how grown up you are but it seems like your just the same little girl who called me mommy'' she smirked making you blush and duck your head.

you offered to take Natasha's suit case up stairs to her room that was left from when she lived there, you had never let her move any of her stuff out, always going into her room when you missed her. but Natasha refused and said she'd take it up because she needed a shower any way.

when she was in the shower you started on dinner knowing Natasha cant cook and wanting your mom to relax but secretly wanting to show Natasha to see your cooking skills. you decided to make her favourite, well what was her favourite last time she tried to make you dinner, which was when you where 6 you had never seen her cook since then.

you got the chicken wings out of the fridge and the sauce you made earlier, you dipped the chicken in eggs then bread crumbs and fried them, next putting the crispy chicken and spicy sauce in a tray to put in the oven.

''mhm baby that smells delicious'' Natasha spoke giving you a fright

''oh natty you scared me'' you breathe, hand on your chest

''sorry little one'' she kisses the top of your forehead, she had always done that but this time it was different, it made you feel different, a way you had only felt once with your ex girlfriend Agatha.

''Natty, you need to leave, its a surprise'' you say seriously

''oh yes, how dare i interrupt the chef'' she says with faux seriousness walking out of the kitchen to sit with your mother at the dinning room table.

you continue to cook put the chicken in the oven and setting a timer. You walk into the dinning room to see your mom and Natasha sitting across from one another drinking red wine, you sit in the chair next to Natasha as you wanted needed to be close to her.

you rest your head on her shoulder, looking up at her ''hi'' you whisper

''hi love'' Natasha whispers back making you smile

''i need to go get the dinner'' you say still look up at her beautiful face

''go get it then honey'' she continues to whisper

''okayyyy natty'' you get up wishing you where still close to her, you hadn't actually seen her in 4 years, of course you had called and text but it wasnt the same and you never wanted her to leave again.

you walk in to the kitchen getting the food out of the oven and put it on plates.

you go back to the dinning room giving Natasha her dinner first, then your mom and finally yourself.

''so how's collage been sweetheart?'' Natasha asks

''gooood'' you hum biting into your food

''she has a girlfriend too'' you mom says unknowing how Natasha would react to that ''mh y/n honey this is delicious'' Natasha blocks out what your mother is saying turning to look at you with a look in your eyes you've never seen before, almost like jealousy but that made no sense why would she be jealous?

''we broke up actually'' you say with a saddened voice

''oh baby im so sorry'' Natasha faked sadness for you, she wasn't sorry, she wanted you, she was going to be your mommy again. ''but i hope there wasn't any touching'' she turns to give you condescending look, you cant reply knowing that there was, but only once.

she picked up on this giving you what you thought was a disappointed look.

for the rest of dinner Natasha practically ignored you and it broke your heart thinking she was disappointed in you.

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

it was now 10pm, you, your mom and Natasha had all watched your favourite movie. You had cuddled into Natasha the whole time but she hadn't said a word to you, she hadn't even looked at you.

''imma go to bed now'' you say getting up from your spot on the sofa.

''goodnight honey, i love you'' your mom said

''goodnight mom i love you too........goodnight Natty.... i've missed you and i love you'' and for the since dinner Natasha looked at you, her eyes soft ''i love you too little one''

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

you are lying in bed in your favourite pjs that Natasha had got you for your birthday a few years ago unable to sleep knowing Nat was upset with you, you couldn't sleep like this. you get up from your bed and tip toe down the hall till your reach Natasha's bed room door, debating where to knock or just to walk in, you decide on just walking in in case she is sleeping.

when you walk in you are surrounded by the sound of panting, you frow your brows ''Natty are you okay?''

''fuck'' you here her mumble and see her head pop out of under the covers, you start to laugh and Natasha's face changed from a worried one to a confused one ''what, what's funny?''

''Natty! your hairs so messy! what the hell where you doing?'' you giggle, Natasha smiles seeing that your still her innocent little girl.

''i was just thinking about you baby girl'' that was true she was thinking about you she may just have been........ touching herself at the same time

''thinking about me makes your hair crazy?'' you continue to giggle

''it makes lots of things crazy detka''

''can i come into your bed natty?'' this was her shot, in all honesty she came this week of course because she had missed you but really because she needed to touch you, to have you, it wasn't a want anymore.

''of course you can sweetheart you don't even need to ask'' with that you get in to her bed, cuddling your head into her chest. ''how did you and your girlfriend touch honey?'' she speaks after a minutes silence and you blush yet again '' was it like this?'' Natasha cups your pussy with her already wet hand that was covered in her juices.

she watches as your face scrunches up ''Natty....what- what are you-'' Natasha cuts you off ''teaching you who you belong to princess and calling me mommy'' she says pulling your pj bottoms down as you whine.

''no panties?''

'' Aggie said it was bad to wear panties''

'' well she was right baby but you still wore your pj bottoms, you should do that because if mommy thinks you need her it'll be really hard for mommy to help you'' she rasps

'' 'm sorry mommy'' you squeaked as she started to rub her fingers against your clit

'' its okay, Aggie was mean and didn't tell you that but mommy did because im nice and i want to be able to help my baby'' Natasha speeds her fingers up making you moan as she lies between your legs teasing you. ''mommy is going to show you soooo much love tonight, you have no idea how long mommys waited to have you here'' Natasha then takes her fingers of your clit to see how you'd react, she wasn't going to let this be over fast, she had waiting to long for it to end in 2 minutes.

''mommy wh- why did you stop?'' you voice shakes needing to feel her against you again.

''awww do you need mommy to make you feel better, to fix the feeling in your tummy?'' she teases as she gets up walking over to her dresser and stripping

''yes mommy please, please please fix it, it hurts. i need you mommy'' you beg relentlessly just like she imaged you would.

she was turned away from you so you couldn't see what she was doing, she open one of her drawers pulling something out and after a few seconds turning back around.

''mommy whats that?'' you ask in fear as you stare down at the two sided dildo, the smaller side already inside of her.

''its whats gonna make you fell better dove'' Natasha climbed atop the bed pulling you down by your open legs ''this is gonna hurt a little sweetheart but i promise that in a few minutes you'll feel amazing, okay?'' she was worried for you but far more excited to ruin you and make you all hers, her little baby.

she starts to slowly push the head of the strap inside of you, making you let out a scream ''honey you need to be quite for mommy'' she whispered hoping that put it in your head to be quite.

once half of the strap is inside of you Natasha starts to take it out only to then thrust the entire length into you

she watched in pride as you bite your lip to stop your scream and tears streamed out of your eyes ''such a good girl for mommy, i promise it gets better'' Natasha's voice is surprisingly soft. she starts to very slowly thrust into you, loving all the noises of your cute little whines.

''mommy can i have more please?'' you moan into her ear, how could she say no to that. Natasha starts to thrust recklessly into you “mo-mommy mhm I-“ you moan

“Gonna cum all over mommy’s cock huh?” She rasp as she feels the coil in her stomach and brings her hand down to play with your clit

“mommy it to mu-much” you whine “feel like imma explode mommy”

“it’s okay baby explode for mommy” she thrust, look down to see you squirt all over her dick “such a good little girl” Natasha hums

“mommy- to much now” you cry after your orgasm is over as Natasha continues to thrust in to you at an outrageous speed.

“mommy need to cum to honey so be a good girl and lie still and let mommy use you as her fuck toy” you whine but do as told wanting to do what Natasha asks of you

“who’s your mommy?” Her voice is lustful as she gets herself off using your body

“you” the whispers falls out of your mouth

“who own you baby? Aggie?” She growls at her own mention of the woman

“no you own me mommy”

“fuck” Natasha groans as she finally cums riding out her high and pulling out of you, then taking the other end out of herself. Natasha climbs into the bed pulling you into her arms

“you mine now baby girl and no else is going anywhere near you”

[spacephobos]

I've got so much I want to say about Polite Society. But I refuse to post anything too spoilery yet.

So one thing I will say is the way Lena's depression and mental health is written is incredible. So often when men write women with mental health issues they write this sort of "prettily struggling" womsn in a spiral.

(this infamous queens gambit scene comes to mind)

They're never allowed to actually be ugly or gross or even not have their hair and makeup be perfect.

Like beth here is in a pretty frilly top shes reclining in an uncomfortable fashion. Her makeup looks perfect and he cardigan is prettily draped over her shoulders. She's meant to be attractive. Her sadness is almost fetishised.

but then Lena looks like this

Whereas Lena's a WRECK. It's considered an achievement she showered. AND shes proud of herself for that small acomplishment. Shes angry. She destroys her work. She's dressed in sweats and pyjamas with either no makeup (if i remember correctly) or makeup that looks like it's been on for days. There's a scene where shes wandering aimlessly and just buys a duck to eat. And she does not eat it daintily or prettily (and no its not a chicken ppl seem to be confused).

I love that she spends all the first act in hoodies and pajamas looking like shes not washed in 3 days. It's just so good to see a woman direct another woman with depression. There's so much to be said about the male gaze and how it even impacts the portrayal of women going through crisis. The removal of that lens has created what I will argue is the most authentic experience of depression in a woman I've maybe ever seen. I literally cannot think of another time I've seen that.

Anyways Nida Manzoor I love you.

[elderberries-and-honey]

Dear Mother,

It's been awhile since I've written, I know but I must share the most exciting news. Your little girl has gotten married. Can you imagine it? Me, a married woman? I can still hear the girls at the workhouse, 'you'll never be anything but an old spinster, Winifred Monet!', but I've proved them wrong now, haven't I?

Lawrence and I met while he was visiting London browsing for new fabrics to sew himself up new work shirts, which he is quite talented at. He says his Mum insisted he learn to sew and cook for himself.

Anyway, we wrote to each other for several months before he surprised me at my little apartment. He did it real proper, you see, with a ring and on one knee, and I just couldn't help but to say yes.

The ride from London to Wales was quite pleasant; I'd always wanted to see the country-side and it's even more beautiful than I could've imagined. Standing there, Lawrence at my side, safety swelled within my heart. I finally felt it - I finally felt at home.

All those years I'd spent feeling so alone...so different...well, Lawrence makes me feel anything except those things. He makes me feel safe and loved. I think you'd be very pleased to hear this. At least, I truly hope so.

When Lawrence's parents passed, they left him the farm he had grown up on. It's breathtaking, truly, I haven't the words to properly describe it to you. Many animals, both Lawrence's and a few wanderers, reside here and some come and go as they please.

My favorite is a little goose, who was raised by some of the chickens and even thinks of himself as one! Lawrence named him Frank and I'm quite fond of him, but Lawrence likes to tease he's just trying to get extra handfuls of feed.

The pond in front is alright for fishing too and both swans and ducks wander to swim around the water from time to time. Do you remember when we'd travel down to river thames and feed the ducks there on Sundays? How special a memory to reflect on, hm?

My favorite animals by far though are the little sheep - Lawrence has four, Peony, Daisy, Tabby and Poppy. Lawrence taught me how to feed them proper with a little baby's bottle - how spoiled! And you wouldn't believe it, Mother, little Peony jumped right up into my arms after her feeding!

Tomorrow, Lawrence begins planting the fall and winter crops. He says this is necessary because soon, the ground will become too stiff with frost and nothing can get planted.

I must end this letter here; my eyes are far too heavy to keep them open any longer and I fret my hands are getting sore. Of course, nothing like what you experienced with your arthritis. I love you so, Mother. Wish you were here.

𝙇𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝘼𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨, 𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙙

next / previous / first

[toulousegrandex]

A Journey of Solitude

Azriel x oc

part 1

Part 2: do you like flowers?

Five weeks had passed since Juniper had woken up in the village, and she had not left that little bed once. It was pressed right up against a wooden window, perfect eye level for her to lay and watch the world tick by. She could see the edge of a pond, surrounded by greenery and flowers of every colour. Children ran past all day, screaming in joy with their mothers and friends. She could see chickens every now and again, ducks in the lake and birds in the trees. But, every time she tried to reach out towards the dream through her window, the bed swallowed her and her thoughts right back up.

She truly believed that if she looked away for one second she may wake up and be stripped of this beauty. Her eyes opening any minute now, taking her right back to her father's house.

Yet, after weeks of that fear she was still woke here, greeted every morning and afternoon by the same woman, Connie. “I'm back again, gorgeous." Junipers body dipped down as Connie sat on the edge of the bed. "It's beautiful isn't it." The older woman smiled, nodding towards the window. "I've been here for 50 years. Not that long in the grand scheme of my life, but long enough for the whole 800 years prior to not mean a thing to me any more." Her boney hand moved slowly towards the girls ankle, gently running her hand over the few grazes that still shone on her skin. "This place, will show you how beautiful life can truly be once you're ready. I'll be waiting for you." With one last pat, Connie stood and left her laying in the bed. Alone once more.

Two more days passed by, when Juniper finally found the courage given to her by Connie, to lift her body from the spot by the window. The white haired woman, with gentle eyes and soft skin, led her down the hallway and into a large, open space filled with tables and chairs. She learnt that they called this area the "craft room" but it was used as a communal space to do as they pleased.

She also learnt she wasn't very good at "crafts" and instead found her eyes wondering to the garden outside again.

"Explore, sweetheart. The world is your oyster now." Connie's soft words whispered into her ear and with that motivation she was gone. With shaking fingertips she slid the large glass door open and faced the outside. The peace and safety that came with this sanctuary is something she didn't know existed up until now. She spent hours exploring the garden that day. Taking in every single sound of harmony. No one yelling at her to get back inside, no men fighting each other in the distance.

The next day she found herself sat at the lake again. Fingers dancing through the grass below her, this time she slowly lay her body back, her head touching the ground. Her eyes closed. She had never felt peace quite like this before, and she was truly starting to believe no one could ever take it away from her again-

"Do you like flowers?"

Her eyes snapped open, above her black wings hovered like death. She jolted herself up on her feet, twisting around to face the dark voice. She recognised him instantly, one of the Illyrian men she saw in her first few weeks here. He radiated death and destruction, just like every man she had ever met. But this one was worse. Whispers of darkness poured from his sides, wrapping around his legs and hands. "Sorry, I just, I see you, staring out at the garden all the time. Do you like the flowers?"

Juniper was frozen in fear, she could barely even blink as she stared up toward him towering over her. Seeing her lack of response, his eyes softened and in an instant the giant man had dropped to his knees with his wings clutched in behind his back.

"If I could change what I looked like when I came in here. Please trust me, I would." Eye level with her he dropped his head down, almost pleading. “I'm not going to hurt you.”

With that, the reality that this could all be a dream seemed a lot more logical once again. Her feet backed her body away without a second thought, moving a few steps before turning fully around to speed walk back into the comfort of the home.

Maybe she shouldn't be leaving that room after all.