#like I have a problem with donation posts as is but like why you gotta list how special you are

[under--pluto]

man people don't even try anymore, emergency commissions are fair enough but the amount of just "hi I'm not cis/white/straight/normal brained/able bodied or a mix of them pls give me money uwu" posts on this webbed site is astronomical

[elysiuminfra]

my I Need Money post (AKA, please consider helping me survive my abusive homelife)

Hi! I’m Cecil. I’m a 20 year old transgender artist from Louisiana, and I can make YOU art!

Art is my sole source of income, and I’m in a bit of a pickle. I am an adult now, and I gotta do adult things. like pay off debt. My sibling is 17. We are both victims of abuse and child neglect at the hands of our alcoholic parents. It’s not so great, but I’d like it to get better.

I’m disabled from medical neglect, and have no way to get my driver’s license. I am unable to get a job, as I live too far from anywhere that would hire me, with no way to get there. This is all I got, man! I got two hands and a warrior’s spirit!

My sibling is my pride and joy and I want to see them flourish and thrive because they’re awesome. They struggle with untreated bipolar disorder and a slew of medical problems, and I want to get them treated for it. I also need to take my two cats to the vet. I have debt I have to pay off, and I have to buy myself food to combat my increasingly declining weight. My clothes don’t fit very well anymore. :(

Art and design is my life-long passion, and I’d like to do it for the rest of my life, but I can’t if I can’t get on my feet. If you’d like to view more of my work, you can check some out here, or view some of my more professional work on my commission website here.

If you would like to financially support me, consider commissioning or donating! Even just sharing helps!

https://ckncommission.carrd.co/

https://ko-fi.com/cknelysium

On a serious note, things at home are not great. This is where I talk about what is going on in detail. Details of abuse and neglect beyond this point. Not required reading, but necessary for context. Photos included.

It’s not that I’m just poor, my parents both work full-time jobs, and they manage to pay the bills. I have food and a roof over my head, but I own nothing but debt, and can’t financially support myself. My parents have been neglecting my sibling for years, and neglected me the same. They do nothing to help us.

My sibling is showing signs of health deterioration, likely malnutrition, and they don’t seem to be concerned about it at all. My health is getting worse, too, because my parents have ignored me when I have stated I am getting worse. I haven’t been to the dentist ever since I was a child. I live with disabling chronic pain and intense fatigue, and I don’t even have a diagnosis, since no one will take me to the doctor.

My sibling likely not going to graduate because my parents have not supported them at all with their mental health, education, or support them just in general. They live in total isolation alongside me. My parents are also the reason why I can’t get a job- they won’t teach me how to drive, and won’t provide transportation. I am physically trapped in my own house, and the only people who can drive refuse to take us anywhere. They also will not help clean the house, and they won’t help fix our dryer or washer, which are both broken. They won’t take our pets to the vet. They won’t spare any expenses for things that need to be done. They spend most of their money on alcohol. In my state, we are currently experiencing what one would call abuse and child neglect. This is one of the only times I have ever written, in detail, what my home life is like.

Our washer and dryer, both broken. We don’t have any flooring in that room. The other is part of our living room floor. I am the only person who cleans the house in any capacity, and when I do it never, ever stays clean. The dirt is from my dad alone. I need to cover doctor’s visits, medication, food for my sibling, and vet costs for my pets. I would also maybe like to have a little treat every once in a while. I can’t physically drive, but if I am able to get the money for it, I can force my parents to take care of things. Due to the, er, abuse, I am also isolated from the world at large and have no support system. All things described on my sibling have been happening to me for years, but I’m technically an adult now, so there’s little anyone can do for me. Things aren’t so great, but I think they can get better through blood sweat and tears. Which is why I have to step up and try to do all these things myself! A difficult task, but I want to make art into something I could do as a job. Please lord have mercy, I want to wash my clothes. I can even save up for a car, and teach myself how to drive, so I can finally reach independence. Without financial support, I can’t achieve that at all. I am very stressed about everything. I’m very isolated as a result of not being allowed to go anywhere. I don’t have anyone I can confidently trust with my home-life situation. I have no resources either, as I live in an area with very little support for adult victims of parental abuse. I’ve never made a plea like this before. I just want to be able to live and thrive and survive on my own, and I just can’t do it at this rate. If I can go to the doctor, I can get healthier, and undo all the years of medical neglect and actually hold a full-time job making coffee like I’d like. I’m afraid both me and my sibling will never get anywhere in life, and I don’t want that for them. I don’t want that for me. I want to finally start living. Thank you for reading, and getting to the end.

[decolonize-the-everything]

"Okay, here's my guess. As humans evolved, the first big problem we had to overcome was me vs. us; learning to sacrifice a little individual freedom for the benefit of a group. You know, like sharing food and resources so we don't starve or get eaten by tigers, things like that.

The next problem to overcome was us vs. them, trying to see other groups different from ours as equals. That one, we're still struggling with. It's why we have racism and nationalism and... why fans of Stone Cold Steve Austin hate fans of the Rock.

What's interesting about you is, I don't think you ever got past the me vs. us stage. I mean, have you ever been part of a group that you really cared about? The Brainy Bunch is basically the first group that became a part of your self identity and now that it's breaking up you're feeling this new kind of loss, and you're scared of going back to being alone. I mean, that's my guess. The other possible medical diagnosis is that you're just a bit of a dick."

More The Good Place posting because I think the show is underrated and none of the actually good parts have clips or gif sets cuz they aren't funny. For context this was Simone (a Black woman) speaking to Eleanor (the white woman main character).

This is a very good quote to remember, as we dismantle whiteness and you find yourself getting defensive about it. Although, this also applies to other communities and interests you've used to define yourself (like when you see criticism of The Thing you identify with as criticism of you.)

Remember this quote, for example, when you feel so strongly about a show that you want to donate money to keep it from being cancelled. Or when you find yourself unable to make a sacrifice to the 'me' like say your morning Starbucks for the 'us' that wants to limit human suffering.

Maybe you actually are afraid of the gang (white ppl) breaking up and all that implies. Maybe you are scared of being alone if there is no (white) community."

And building on previous convos we've had here; since being alone outside whiteness is something y'all have talked about extensively on my blog..

Defining yourself outside whiteness might literally feel like an attack on your self but it's not. You are you and you are a person whether you're white, mixed, or not at all ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Whether you want it to continue being the defining aspect of your personhood will show through your actions.

But it is time to move on.

Because whiteness tries to force it's beliefs onto you when you identify with whiteness -ignorance, individuality, superiority- and it shows through that "do it yourself/not my problem" attitude if not through blatant racism. It's up to y'all to reject that pre-set definition and define yourselves, now.

What are your values? Your principles? Your likes and hobbies and dislikes? Like in a world without racism or sexism or transphobia or taika waititi or Stan lee... Who are are you when stripped of bigotry and socially constructed identities, ykwim? Y'all gotta figure that out.

And you won't be alone in that endeavor and I really can't stress enough how much easier it would be to our shared goal of destroying racism and white supremacy if it wasn't an abandonment trigger that put white ppl into a literal identity crisis to imagine a world without those things.

Like at it's core that's what those feelings are and idk about y'all but it feels like a huge disservice to literally every person on earth to keep compromising on human rights because white supremacists made y'all scared to be outside whiteness where the rest of us are when you don't even like how it feels to be white anyway.

Have some solidarity. Give a little of 'me' for the 'us' so we All can have better.

[vizthedatum]

On dressing up, getting through life, and doing “the work” in an unjust world

Being the desi queer that I am, I woke up early on menstruation-day-4 and put on a classic ‘90s Bollywood song, “Woh Ladki Jo” (I find that the eponymous lyric that says that this girl is different from everyone ("Woh ladki jo sabse alag hai") very hilarious because I’m all like “I really am not like other girls because I’m not actually a girl. I just love makeup and dressing up regardless of all that”), on repeat, and did my makeup. Put on my girlfriend’s dress. Rolled my eyes at my cramps (and fatigue and breakouts and omfg all the pain). I did a lot of spoon recovery and self-care yesterday: was able to take off work because the schedule was sparse, got a much-needed haircut (the last one was before my defense in April 2021), and basically was horizontal for the rest of the day. Today, I’m much more active - I can feel myself being more genuinely upbeat even though I’m still grieving.

And I’m so upset at the state of the world. I always am.

As Angela Davis says: “Sometimes we have to do the work even though we don't yet see a glimmer on the horizon that it's actually going to be possible.”

I think we should all do something. Anything. Within our limits, sure, but something.

But what work should we be doing?? How do we measure or even justify if we are doing what we can or if it is even going to make a difference? When things are so systematically unjust at so many scales and levels of entrenchment, it’s hard not to get jaded even when you’re outraged at the senseless violence that not only happens in this country but all over the fucking world.

I used to be a part of the DEI group at my old department at Pitt (where I did my Ph.D.). DEI stands for diversity, equity, and inclusion. We were a group of four: two professor-types, one student (me!), and one staff person. We banded together after the murder of George Floyd - many organizations all over the country formed DEI groups. Our department head was SO enthusiastic about it (you know how it goes (paraphrased): “we gotta do something about this!!”) but … only four people signed up. And we were powerless. We came up with ideas and drafted a couple of plans/documents: a proposal, a mission statement, a budget, a failed book club idea (my idea, no surprise), and a contentiously received presentation…. We were largely ignored. There were some programs in place and efforts made to increase diversity but it all was strained. Other people in our department mentioned that the work was hard with little payoff. Others had grand ideas that could not be done without more staffing. No one had the allotted time or energy. Morale was low. And we didn’t have the resources to really conduct investigations into the state of equity or even have the requisite knowledge to educate or bring about change.

Many activists say that DEI groups don’t work. They’re performative, at best.

Performative DEI is perpetuating the problems we face. It is not “the work.” Posting a blackout picture (even though you can! And there is utility and validity in raising awareness and sharing your pain/concern!!) or simply sharing a hashtag without any real follow-through is… not furthering the cause. Having an organization that is isolated from everything else just to have it… is laughably not “the work.” Throwing money at the problem (even though you should donate and support as much as you can) is not just enough.

These are my suggestions (I come from a place of privilege as I type this, and I am open to feedback, criticism, and suggestions):

1. Make a fuss. Call people out: your colleagues and even yourself. Say uncomfortable things. Say “I don’t like it when you comment on my colleague’s hair” or point out the lack of diversity on your team “There are 5 white-passing folks and only one brown person. Hmm, why?” Use your words as best you can and then be humble when corrected on your language. Clearly state that you think your organization is racist or gendered or not inclusive. Call out ableism. Say it in front of your boss. Be emotional. Make it socially uncomfortable. Do it over and over again. Everyday. Risk your job even if you’ll lose it and you’ll be left with nothing - sacrifice is necessary. Make it obvious. Because we are all too complacent and… keeping the peace keeps the oppressive structures in place. 2. Actually make DEI a priority by funding it, hiring more staff, encouraging it at EVERY event, and making it a part of day-to-day operations (how you ask? Idk… why don’t you take the time to figure that out? Cancel meetings and meet about this instead. Scratch your heads and figure it out - it’s not an extracurricular, and it’s not easy. Do it for years! It should be a part of your job, no matter what your job is.). 3. Make real progress on DEI goals. DEI goals should be part of the business plan. Mandate it. Make the goals small and realistic so that they can actually get done. Follow whatever paradigm that will help (e.g., SMART goals). 4. Pay everyone involved. Fairly according to industry standards or whatever. More than just a livable wage, whatever that looks like in your area. This goes along with funding. Require DEI training, regularly. Make it mandatory. Make it so annoyingly part of the training and maintenance of your organization that people talk about it all the time. 5. Have a DEI presence at every level of your organization. Connect the presences. Clearly define any form of accountability metric. Then publicly and obnoxiously showcase those metrics, even if they don’t look good. Especially if they don’t look good. Awareness and “the work” requires us to acknowledge our failures and not just our successes. 6. Keep creating accountability metrics and then redefine them… constantly. Have people relearn what they need to keep track of. 7. Don’t sensationalize DEI. It’s not just an event. It just doesn’t happen when someone gets murdered. Integrate it within your work and your life. Some of us don’t have a choice but to be affected by the inequities of the world… then why do you or your organization have that choice? 8. Don’t be discouraged by a lack of progress. Don’t give up (I did give up because I was fatigued but there were no structures in place to help motivate me. And the people who cared enough to encourage me didn’t have the support either). Don’t give up like me, even if you’re a fatigued POC. And if you feel like you’re drowning and no one is listening, SCREAM. Protest. Figure out a way to get your voice heard.

That’s my call to action. What’s yours?

[krazybomb]

I posted 27,271 times in 2022

That's 17,472 more posts than 2021!

10 posts created (0%)

27,261 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@obi-one-drop

@thetabbybadger

@piefanart

@theorigamiphoenix

@abitlyon

I tagged 2,098 of my posts in 2022

#the dream - 102 posts

#tw: body horror - 81 posts

#tw: spider - 79 posts

#important to remember - 69 posts

#huh - 59 posts

#*grabby hands* - 49 posts

#interesting - 31 posts

#only on tumblr - 30 posts

#library of babel - 29 posts

#donation link - 29 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#the golden rule to most relationships you want to continue is just maintain a level of flexibility and a level of transparency within reaso

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

bug ask game! 40,48, and stick bugs or leaf bugs??

40. coolest bug created structure Hmmmm. This is a toughie. I think from sheer size and massive amounts of awe I would say termite mounds/ant hills (because of how deep and complicated some ant hills can be). But on the smaller note, I like this "silkhenge" that was discovered in the amazon and the rare example of a "log cabin bagworm" (which apparently lives in Indonesia), as both show intricate tiny structures. 48. what is your favorite bug pokemon?

This is an impossible question to answer but I will try- if I had to REALLY chose, from games only I have played and not based on anything else, Anorith. I basically love all of them though and stuff like Dwebble, Joltik, Volcarona and others are such a close second its absurd. For stick bugs or leafbugs: I adore both but my favourite color is green and I love foliage so I gotta say leafbugs because their camoflauge is great!

1 note - Posted July 3, 2022

#4

Will this crash tumblr? Who knows. Probably not but why not try yaknow?

1 note - Posted April 1, 2022

#3

It's weird having to deal with like. Rejection Senitivity/ Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria over something that most of your concious brain is fine with/ has gotten over but your subconscious apparently isn't completely over it. Because it results in thinking mostly normally and not having a cry response but internall feeling that sort of physical pain you get with some emotions and wondering why you're like this.

I think. I think I know why but that doesn't solve my problems as much as reframe some of them a bit. Also they don't really have easy solutions. I don't think they do anyway.

1 note - Posted February 5, 2022

#2

HOOHOOHOO HOO HELLO THERE CHUM

Oop this is a bit late but hello! I see you may have been wanting to do an april fool!

2 notes - Posted April 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

@nostalgebraist-autoresponder

Frank, I thought you'd enjoy this meme I made of one of your posts.

558 notes - Posted July 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[perfectlyvalid49]

So, my son is in first grade, and on Sundays he goes to religious school for a few hours in the morning. Usually, a handful of the parents stick around and hang out and chat. We always wind up talking about a bunch of different things – topics today included getting a puppy, what kind of pets everyone had at home, what reading group the kids were in at school, the religious composition of our friend groups outside of this one (and why we’re always the only Jews), haircuts, donating clothing, video games, and a handful of other things.

One of the things we wound up talking about was the fact that Chanukah is coming up, and it started off pretty innocuous. Like the conversation started with which Target in the area has the best selection of decorations and things (note for the goyim: this varies wildly depending on a store’s demographics and can range from like a whole isle to virtually nothing, so you gotta know where to go). But it quickly moved on to people expressing concern about whether or not it was safe to put menorahs in their windows this year because of everything that’s going on.

And there were a couple of things that really struck me. One was that this particular group of people (and our congregation as a whole, to be honest) skews pretty far left, and part of the conversation was about how we felt like we don’t have a political home anymore. The we share no values with the right, and the left is busy showing us what they think of us. We wish to make the world a better place. How do we do that when the people we should be working with hate us?

The other thing that came up that I want to share is that one of the moms converted a little over a decade ago, and she told us that as part of learning about Judaism, she and the rabbi had conversations about antisemitism and how unfortunately it’s part of the deal. And she was like, I knew it existed, but I didn’t know it was going to be like this. The way it’s constant, and from everywhere. She’s worried about her kids and we were all worried about how to explain it to our kids without making them feel like they should feel bad for being Jewish.

I know that I’ve been reading and posting about this online for the last four weeks. I guess talking with people in real life made it seem more…real? I’m not sure if that’s the right word, but it just hit me differently talking about it this morning. What I do know is that I will absolutely be putting a menorah in my window next month, and if people have a problem with it, we’ll go from there.

[watchyourdigits]

Eventually I'll do a write-up on the minor OCs in my fics. Perhaps build them their own little universes because they deserve it. Especially Alice and Eileen, my beautiful lesbian babies. Some backstory and faceclaims below for those who don't read my fics because I LOVE these two sm (general Night Letter ramblings as well below the cut, lots of rehashed stuff heh).

For those who don't read Night Letter, Frankie is my Sole Survivor OC. He's a gay (cowboy-adjacent) man born in TN. He was moved out to/raised in TX when he was ~4 by his father (who became an alcoholic) after his mom passed away while having his younger brother (who also didn't make it). He's got three older sisters who were very protective of him.

Frankie shipped up to Boston for the military after his dad caught him kissing boys & this lovely lady named Alice at a bar near her college/his station. They hit it off really well and found common ground in being closeted gays. They met up a few more times before deciding to get married to keep up appearances and maintain an "acceptable" social life. And also to appease both their families to remain in their respective inheritances, of course. Gotta do what you gotta do.

Eileen was Alice's live-in "friend". Or long-distance cousin, depending on the day. So far as anyone in Sanctuary Hills knew anyway lmao Surprise! They were partners and met in college. Frankie loved them both so so so dearly. They reminded him of his sisters back home, whom he missed constantly while settling down in Boston. Alice and Eileen doted on him furiously and were the only reason he stayed sane when Malcolm - Frankie's first true love that he met in the military - was killed in action. They kept him grounded.

Shaun was born from Alice and Frankie in the technical sense only. The ladies really wanted a kid together, and Frankie was willing & available to help with that (via sperm donation). He always felt more like an uncle than a father, and that's what they always called him: Uncle Frankie. I might be reconning my own fic here, in all honesty. I actually can't remember if I mentioned the term "uncle" specifically in Night Letter. Also I'm pretty sure I just said he was available to help in that department and never specified that he didn't fuck Alice!!!!!! ALSO he does strategically refer to himself as Shaun's father in the post-apocalypse because he thinks it legitimizes his cause to find him more than if he were just his uncle, saying it for the sake of emotional appeal to those he might need help from. You bet your ass he'll go back to being Uncle once Shaun is living with them :')

My FCs for Alice and Eileen are Elizabeth Taylor and Jane Powell (respectively) because I saw this one picture and couldn't help myself bc they are so goddamn cute

Do note: they are merely mentioned in the fic (posthumously obviously). I have ~problems~ because I have way too much in my head for them despite them not being relevant at all. Like how their first date was a total disaster because Alice stupidly suggested they get milkshakes. Alice does not like sweet things. Eileen does, but they're both lactose intolerant. Neither said anything because they were both just so nervous and trying to be romantic. The date itself was fine, but they couldn't meet up the next day because they were both SUFFERING. Both made elaborate excuses as to why they didn't show up, only to find the other hadn't showed either. They didn't talk about it, calling it a wash, and only found the truth out after two years of being together when wine drunk one night in Eileen's dorm room.

In other news, is it bad that I've considered making Eileen into a ghoul?? Alice was Frankie's legal wife so she was in the vault. But Eileen was out of the house when the bombs fell (not that she was registered for the vault anyway). I like to think she went ghoul instead of being struck from earth okay let me be 😭😭

Less important, but Malcolm (aka Mal, aka loverboy) and Frankie (aka Franklin Lee Barr aka don't fuckin' call me Franklin) are Sal Mineo and James Dean, respectively:

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Hush Hush~ /// Kazuha x reader (nsfw) GIVEAWAY PIECE

Hello all!! We have a very special book from a limited time release that is here to join our library! Give thanks @kazuhakitty for donating this book that is from one of our old collections! Enjoy loves!

donation note:

please may i get a kazuha x reader nsfw where we like yk ;)) on the ship and kazu keeps telling us to be quiet bc otherwise the crew would find out what we’re doing 😵‍💫 dom kazu oh and praise loads of praise please

OOOH WAIT he gotta put his fingers in our mouth 😞🙏

༻Kaedehara Kazuha༺

The Crux was currently on it’s way to Inazuma to import some new goods and talk more about the new rules of trade given that the Sakoku Decree was lifted, exciting Beidou a lot given that meant she’d get more business for her crew. It didn’t exactly excite you because it meant that your lover would be constantly busy and on the go, Kazuha was never in one place more than once.

He asked you after months of letters and small dates if you wanted to travel with him and couldn’t help but kiss you when you said yes, effectively making you a part of Beidou’s crew (which she liked you already so it wasn’t a problem). The sunset shown through the sails as the bow crashed against the waves, you were sitting next to Kazuha on the top of a decorative wooden dragon along the side of the ship

His arm was around your waist and head leaning against your shoulder, looking out at the mix of orange, pinks, and reds painting the sky. “It really is a picture of beauty, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is,” Turning your head towards the samurai only to see him smiling at you, cheeks barely flushed, and laughing softly. You pushed his shoulder and looked away, “You’re always like this, don’t you ever run out of inspiration, zuzu?”

Running his fingers through your hair, his crimson eyes jumped to every part of you before landing on your lips, meeting your gaze after a second. The wind whipped around both of you, it was a light but warm breeze signaling the beginning of summer and more free time for fun.

“Not at all, not when my muse traveling alongside me.” A rare smirk came on his lips and cupped your face, bringing you in for a sweet kiss. Your giggle was muffled by his lips and you returned it happily, breaking apart for a bit to catch your breath before biting Kazuha’s lips playfully.

“You seem especially excited tonight,” Murmuring between breaths, pulling you into his lap so you were facing in-front of him and away from the view of the crew. Your fingers clasped his and you brought it up to your mouth, pecking it before explaining your usual joy.

“I was hoping since we haven't been intimate for a while that we could have some alone time tonight?” Your lover grinned and nodded, kissing the backside of your neck and getting up, extending his hand for you to take. Whispering when he guided you by your hips as you went down the ladder to the deck how he was going to spoil you, pleasuring you till you could only remember his name.

You’d been so good so he decided why not treat his beloved to a well deserved night of luxury, he had had some not so innocent thoughts over the past week that he’d buried down in order to get some tasks done. Now he’d let them flow freely, the image of your hot shaken post sex body below him sending some blood to his dick.

Oblivious to anyone else you both were going to turn in for the night and come out for dinner later on (maybe not to Beidou, she always knew what went on on her ship), once out of sight happily running to your shared room. The energy electrifying between the two of you and shocking you with every touch he gave you, silent pleas and desires being told with his crimson eyes.

Intertwined hands lead you to your shared room and smile when Kazuha pinned you against the wall, tilting your head up so he could get better access to your neck. Placing kisses and nips on your collar bones, enjoy the sweet sounds that fall from your lips.

“Now, pretty girl. Come here.” He guided you to bed and above him, having you straddle his hips. The wanderer patted his lips and motioned for you to strip, never breaking his gaze from yours.

A chill ran through you as you took off your bra and panties, your boyfriend came from the bed. “Such a good girl, being so obedient for me.” you preened at the praise given to you and you held back a moan, walking over to him and straddling his waist.

He lifted your thighs so that you hovered above his mouth. Reaching his head up and licking a stripe up your pussy, your head lolling back at the small shot of pleasure racing through your veins.

You sat yourself on his lips, practically melting once Kazuha got to work, sucking on your wet cunt like a man starving for something to drink. Expertly using his thumb to stimulate your clit and holding your waist down with the hold, preventing you from getting off his tongue.

“I bet you’ve been dreaming of this, dove.” Kissing the inside of your inner thigh and biting part of your cunt, “Having me absolutely ruin this hole of yours.” A loud moan interrupted him and he eyes snapped up to you, narrowing and thrusting his tongue against your walls.

“You need to stay quiet, baby girl.” Whining, you nodded and clenched your eyes shut, your hand fourth tangling itself in his cream colored hair.

The knot inside you tightened and you held in a cry, whimpering at the lust pushing your climax closer and opening your lidded eyes to Kazuha’s. He laughed, the vibration giving you further stimulation and murmured something, even though he had his mouth full you could understand him.

“Is my beloved gonna cum? Do you think that you’re allowed to cum?” Kazuha pretended to mull over the thought and enjoyed your pained expression, before smirking into your pussy. “I think you’ve been good enough. Cum.”

With that you felt the string snap, the waves of pleasure struck you hard and you bit down on your lip to hopefully quiet down. You don’t think you could live down the humiliation if Beidou or the crew found out about this.

Your thighs shook as you rode out your orgasm and your lover was still drinking up all your juices, thumbing your clit and cooeing praises at you . “Good girl.” “So pretty for me.” “Mine.” “Delicious.”

Sighing, you opened your teary eyes and smiled at Kazuha, trying your best to get off so he could sit. He turned you around and rubbed his dick along your pussy, getting it wet and poking the tip at your hole.

“You can make it one more round can’t you? You always look so pretty being fucked dumb on my cock.” You nodded, eager for another orgasm and sat down on his length, your eyes shuttering at the tightness of him stretching you out.

“Kazu- please~” That was all he needed to start thrusting his hips up and fondling your tits, setting a steady pace that drove you insane. Already sensitive from your first climax, you were overstimulated and failed to hold back some moans, gasping at how his dick kissed your cervix at every movement.

“More- mrph!” His index and middle fingers made their way into your mouth, stroking your tongue and moving back and forth. “Sweetheart, you need to be quiet or else you’ll alert the whole ship that you’re such a good little slut for me. You wouldn’t want that would you?”

“You shouldn’t talk with your mouth full.” Shaking your head, tears pricked your face at the pain and pleasure building up in your body, the knot tightening and your pussy squeezing Kazuha’s cock. You rolled your hips and whimpered, being more careful of the people above you and pleaded, all of your words coming out in a jumble with his fingers still occupying your mouth.

The samurai smirked and chuckled before removing his fingers, a string of saliva connecting you both, tilting his head. “Do you think you deserve to cum again? You should be rewarded for being such a good little listener.”

“Yes. Please Kazuha, let me cum on your cock. It feels so good~ cum inside me- aH” He grunted, his pace faltering and clearly close to orgasming himself, “Alright darling~” You rolled your hips unsteadily, having him touch that one spot that drove you crazy and kept doing the same motion.

Your vision went white and you clamped a hand over your mouth to silence your lewd noises, your body shook as it climaxed once more and left you grasping onto Kazuha’s shoulders for support. He kept thrusting, the wet noises of his cock jamming your cum back into your cunt filled your room.

He kept going until he pulled his cock out, humming onto your stomach, white warm ropes dripping down your abdomen. Both of you panting to regain air and freezing when you heard footsteps walk down the hallway. Your lover motioned to stay quiet, a finger over his pursed lips, and breathed a sigh of relief when the noise faded away.

“Now my dear. You look up for another round, I say we let them know who you belong to.”

[softerhaze]

apparently, you can’t ask the moonwood mill townies questions that prompt special answers once they join your household. so, i decided to grab all of lou’s responses from the string table :) i’m gonna post them here for future reference and in case anyone else wants to see what he says!

"Kristopher's a pretty cool Werewolf to have taken in everyone he has. Of course, he didn't take me in... so he kind of missed taking in the coolest wolf, but hey, he does an adequate job."

"I love me some PowerSip MIDNIGHT! I'm glad they're always fighting the legal battles to make their next big flavor. Who wouldn't want to taste MIDNIGHT? Seriously, they must have some spellcaster brewers making the stuff. How else do you harness the essence of night?"

"So I've snatched a few things over the years. A future cube, a few paintings, some children's toys—which I donated, so don't look at me like that! The best thing I ever took was a piano. Don't ask me how I did it. That's a secret."

"How did I end up in Moonwood Mill? Well, I stole a few things I probably shouldn't have, and I was on the run. I figured nobody would find me way out here in the middle of the wilderness. Guess I was right."

"Who doesn't want to be an immortal wolf? I hear you need to be pretty powerful to pull it off. Don't worry, I'll get there soon."

"Not sure how I feel about the concept of fated mates. Like, ONE Werewolf? FOREVER?? That's a lot of commitment."

"So I asked Celene out on a date, yeah. We were going for a walk over that bridge, when I heard a helpless kid or something crying for help. I'm a pretty nice guy, so I was like, ‘Hey Celene, we gotta go help the kid.’ We braved going past those signs and all that, and we ran into Greg. Well, I had to try and protect Celene. She was pretty scared! So I ran up to him and suggested Greg leave us alone. No taunting or anything, just a stern suggestion. He didn't take kindly to that, and well... here we are. That's the truth of it all!"

"I'm not sure I like the idea of Vampires. I guess most Werewolves don't... Spellcasters on the other hand? They sound pretty cool. I'd get together with one."

"Greg is kind of a problem. We all know it. I don't know why he came here in the first place if he doesn't want to join a pack and live like the rest of us."

"The Moonwood Collective isn't really my scene. They're too into nature. Have you seen them leaning on that old tree? No fire anywhere? BORING."

"Rory was a lone Alpha until I joined her pack. It just felt right to me. We're a good fit as a pack and I like how she encourages me to explore being a Werewolf."

"Who knows if I'd take a cure or not. I mean, right now? No. My pack is pretty cool. I'm still figuring out everything I can do. Why would I want to give that up?"

"Yeah, okay, I'll admit that I feel kind of bad about what happened to Celene. I know she was pretty traumatized by it all. She, well... we were both pretty scared. I don't know, I don't think I want to talk about it, even with you."

"When you're the new wolf on the block, you'll notice that you certainly have less control than the others. Give it time, it gets better."

"I'm always getting asked why I didn't take the antidote after our encounter, like Celene did. Well, I figured I was strong enough to ride it out. It was just a small bite! I guess I was wrong... "

"Just because I'm all about embracing the inner beast doesn't mean I'm opposed to someone seeking a cure. Be true to you. That's what's important. Just don't try to make me take it!"

"If I wasn't a Werewolf, I think I'd want to be a Mermaid. Surprised? Eh, don't be. They also have a connection to the moon, you know? With the tides and all that. Did you know mermaids can stay out of the water longer during a Full Moon?"

[fluffymisha97]

Creative Writing

Summary :  You and Chris moving in together. You have to sort through your stuff. You come across something old, something you wrote years ago. You aren’t the only one who discovers what you’d been hiding.

Warnings : Language ! Smutty cont implied. Explicit. 

Word count : 2,255 

**The idea came to me and I sort of just went with it. Also the pic, his facial expression is what I imagined so let's all pretend it’s not a Ipad but a Laptop. That last line in the fic, goes out to all of the amazing writers here on Tumblr. You all amaze me. I hope you enjoy it. **

Author Note : 

I do NOT give permission for my work to be re-posted, translated, or published on other sites than on my Tumblr. Comments, likes and reblogs are however much appreciated and humbly welcomed.

While you’re here :  Feel free and more than welcome to check out my other stories. Here --> Master List. 

While Chris packed up the kitchen, you moved on to your small study where you found your old notebooks from your teenage years and much more.

Time must’ve flown as you sat on the floor engrossed in some old story you wrote.

“Babe, at this rate it’ll take us forever to get done.”

You look up from the page, Chris stood by the door arms crossed but smiling at you.

“Sorry- I just found something from my high school. God, I can’t believe I won a contest with this. Luckily, my writings gotten better over the years.”

You continued to pack your stuff in the study. Most of the stuff was going to be donated or given away. Chris had made room for you in his- soon to be your office.

Suddenly you came across your old laptop. You were sure it had been thrown out. All excited and happy, you tried turning it on. Surprisingly it worked. You came across old documents and files from high school and college among family photos. You made sure to back everything up.

You ventured into your internet browser. You found your old WattPad and Tumblr user. You’d almost forgotten about that. For many years you wrote a lot of fiction and- … fanfiction. Reader insert fanfiction. You went through a quick and very brief Twilight phase and luckily your taste improved a whole lot. You wrote a bit Harry Potter and shortly dived into Marvel and DC which was a slip and slide into Actors x readers. You clicked on your old ‘Master list’.

“Hey, you about done in here?”

You closed the laptop promptly as Chris walked in.

“Yeah, I just found my old laptop and I wanted to save some old files and pictures- Something from a creative writing workshop.”

Chris squinted his eyes at you.

“That why you slammed the laptop closed? Cos of some writing?”

“Ahh yeah…- You need help in the kitchen?”

“Nah, almost done. Came looking for the tape.”

You slid the tape across the floorboards.

“Thanks. Are you hungry? I was thinking when you’re done here, we could order some pizza.”

“Yeah, actually- I can go down and get it. I should order one last Pizza from Sal’s pizza and pasta while I got the chance.”

You asked him about his order despite already knowing what he wanted. You grabbed your purse and keys.

You pulled Chris into a chaste kiss before leaving. You let out a soft hum against his lips feeling content. Chris caressed your cheek as you pulled away.

“See you in a bit.”

Silence filled the apartment. Chris went to finish the last box in the kitchen but curiosity nagged him. He couldn’t help but wonder what you’d been so desperately trying to hide on your laptop. ‘No, respect each other's privacy.’

But then again, you told each other basically everything. ‘Didn’t you?’ he thought so. Chris walked back and forth between the kitchen and the study while trying to talk himself down. ‘Y/N, loves me and couldn’t possibly get mad at me for this seeing how we have full transparency and no secrets.’ Therefore, it shouldn’t be a problem if he snuck a little peak on your laptop. He eyed the laptop about 20 times before he let out a groan and marched into the study.

Chris sat down in your chair. ‘Nice and comfy- gotta keep this baby’ anyhow- Chris opened the laptop. There was no password. Chris was sort of expecting this to be your ‘naughty laptop’. You’d mentioned once a while back, that you had a separate laptop for certain things like porn which you would never surf on your daily and current laptop. You were paranoid and odd like that. Another thing you’d shared with him.

Chris saw several documents that he assumed were from school. His eyes danced across the screen. Then something caught his eye. Tumblr. Chris clicked on the site. It was a dashboard, your Tumblr user’s dashboard. Intrigued and curious, Chris clicked on ‘Master list’. At first, he’d thought it would be a place where you posted your original stories and such but he was surprised about this discovery. There was soooo much stuff. What caught his eye as he scrolled down, was ‘Actors x readers’.

Chris knew enough about Tumblr to know -sort of- what the platform was used for. Often he had heard a lot of people talking about it. He’d never really explored it until now that is.

Chris clicked again, and found something he hadn’t seen coming. ‘Chris Evans x reader’, there must’ve been about 20+ stories about ‘him’?

‘Well this calls for further investigation.’ Chris clicked on one of the stories. The first many stories were soft, sweet and cuddly like you were. As he scrolled further down, his eyes went wide. ‘Chris Evans x reader, SMUT’, dying to know what you’d written, he clicked on the story. As he read, his eyes got bigger and bigger. This was straight up filthy, dirty, sexy and core-shocking. Yes, Chris knew you were great with words and you were no shy girl when it came to some heavy sexting but this- ‘Damn,’ was all he could say. Sucking it all in, he read on.

You balanced the pizza boxes as you entered your soon to be old apartment. You placed the pizza on the kitchen counter and took off your jacket.

“Hey, sorry for the long wait. They mixed up some of the order but I got a butt-load of garlic bread as compensation and- OMG, what are you doing?”

Chris leaned back, hands behind his head, looking at you, wide-eyed in the doorway. You saw your laptop perched on his lap. God knows, he wasn’t playing Sims on that thing.

“Well, this is certainly some creative writing, sweetheart.”

You looked down, fiddling with your hands.

“How much have you read?”

“I read most of the ones featuring me- I glanced at the Marvel stuff too, and wasn't a fan of the fics with Henry Cavill.”

Chris chuckled at you as your wide eyes locked with his. He then placed the laptop on the desk, and motioned for you to join him. You hang your head low wishing God would swoop down and have mercy on your soul. Chris called your name and reached a hand out for you. Slowly, you walked to him. Chris patted his thigh, you sat so both your legs were on one side of his.

“Y/N, I’m not mad or offended or anything…Actually flattered and-”

“I wrote those years ago and I wasn’t really all that social and- Wait, you’re not mad?”

“No, not at all…Maybe that you seemed to have had an infatuation with Henry Cavill as well but I can live with it. I had more stories if I’m not mistaken.”

You look up from your folded hands. There’s no signs of anger, disgust, disdain or anything like that. If anything he looks amused and unbothered.

“I feel like such a creep, Chris.”

“Why?”

“Because, I wrote them about you and you reading them wasn't a part of my plan. It was meant to entertain other ‘thirsty CE fans/readers… - Not you, now I just feel dirty and kinda cheap.”

“Honey, writing wise what I read was really good. Not just saying that because I’m in it but they were good.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Really, really.”

Chris smiled as you lifted your head, no longer sad or worried. Chris leaned forward while balancing on his chest, you did the same. It was barely a peck on the lips before you flicked him hard right on his forehead.

“Dammit, what was that for?”

“What were you doing on my computer in the first place?”

You narrowed your eyes at him leaning back. Chris offered a sheepish smile.

“What? I’m sorry, I was curious.”

“You do know what curiosity did to the cat, right?”

Chris wrapped his arms around your waist holding you.

“I do yeah- but judging from your writing, killing me isn’t your style. - No, maybe whipping me, spanking me for being a naughty boy-”

“Screw you dude- Let me go.”

You tried wiggling your way out from his strong grip. Chris only laughed at your futile attempt. At last, you gave up leaning forward to rest your head in the crook of his neck. Chris rubbed your back as the laughter quieted down.

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

You let out a small hum.

“I’m sorry for snooping. Too nosey and curious for my own good.”

“And I’m apparently a thirsty whore on a laptop. So, sorry too.”

“Do not apologize for that. Ever. ”

You leaned back, Chris kissed your lips, cheeks and jaw. You gave him a small pat on the arm, signaling him to let you up. Not entirely willingly he did. The delicious smell of pizza filled his nostrils as he followed you.

You sat on the kitchen counter eating your pizza in a comfortable silence. Chris talked a bit about how the two of you could rearrange at home in regards to furniture. You disposed of the pizza boxes and cleaned up. Looking at Chris, You didn’t miss the way his lips quirked up every now and again.

“What?”

“There was one story, involved food-”

“Chris, no! You peaked and that is it. No more and never again, are we to discuss this.”

“Okayyy.”

There was silence after that. You walked through the living room and unfolded a moving box. Chris' smooth voice startled you as it filled the room.

“ ‘She trembled in his hands, both his cum and hers dripping down her thighs. Chris tightened his hand around her throat- ‘ “

You leaped across the room, when Chris read out loud from the laptop. You placed the laptop in one of the boxes and turned around facing Chris.

“I will hurt you if you utter one more word.”

Chris tried hiding his smile as you stood with both hands on your hips, giving him ‘the stern and mad’ look. Chris raised his hands, surrendering. If only.

“Now, weren’t you the one who didn’t want this to take forever? - Then help me.”

You emptied your coffee table while Chris carried the boxes from the study into the living room, stacking them together. You stretched your arms above your head and arched your back.

“ ‘ You felt hot as Chris’ strong hands glided over your naked body. He looked up at you with lust in his eyes before looking down. Your cunt glistening from his previous and ‘far-from finished- feast-’ ”

You picked up one of the throw pillows and threw it at his stupid face. Chris laughed at your pathetic attempt. Whenever you were angry, you looked as angry as a kitten. He loved that. You clicked your tongue and crossed your arms.

“Fuck it, don’t bother packing the rest. I’ll stay here and die of humiliation. Thank you and please close the door on your way out.”

You threw yourself on the couch hiding your face in the cushions. You could hear Chris chuckling behind you, soon you felt the couch dip as he laid down next to you. His hand on your back instantly.

“You aren’t going to let this go anytime soon, are you?”

“Not likely- Y/N, I’m kidding… I’ll stop or I’ll try really hard to. Call it me being envious. I could never come up with any of that. Might I add, you normally do the majority of the sexting whilst I prefer facetime cause I ain’t good with words.”

You rolled over lying on your side facing him.

“That’s a lie. Your work with ASP?”

“Hon, that’s politics. Not hot stuff exactly.”

“I bet you could make it hot. You already are doing that. Fandom be thirsting and creaming for you.”

Chris’ eyes sparkled as a mischievous smile appeared on his face.

“Speaking of ‘creaming’, there was one fic-”

You slapped your hand across his lips, silencing him.

“I ought to beat you if you don’t shut up…”

Chris raised his eyebrows at you, muffled speaking from behind your hand.

“I think I got a whip from a bachelorette party I went to years ago.”

Chris’ eyes darkened a bit briefly but you saw it and he saw that you saw it. You felt his tongue on the inside of your palm. You removed your hand slowly as Chris pulled you closer, flipping you so that you were trapped and pinned down on the couch. Chris hummed as you shivered at his hand grazing your jean-clad pussy. He looked proud as he felt your hips bucking up against his own. A low growl vibrated from his chest.

“How about that?”

‘Hmm’

Chris leaned down pressing kisses by the corner of your mouth teasing you. More like torturing you. Your arms went around his neck holding him close to you. He smirked at you.

“I guess I ain’t opposed to that seeing how all of your creative writing got me all riled up earlier.”

It was safe to say that Chris was your biggest fan and reader of your work. You didn’t write fanfiction anymore and why would you when you had the real deal. There was no fantasy that this man would say no to. He was more than happy to fulfill them. And every once in a while, the two of you would explore some creative writing on Tumblr. 

The stuff on there is to die for.

Tag list 

@bellaireland1981 @denisemarieangelina​​

@patzammit​​

@chris-butt

@castellandiangelo​​

@harrysthiccthighss​​

@tantricevans

@katiew1973​​      

@draw-back-your-bow​

@missswriter​

@arabescapr​

@liquorlaughslove

@chaneajoyyy

@sunflowercaptain

@ la-cey 

@adoreyou976

@geminievans1

@justile​

@breezykpop​ ​

@nikkitc0703​

[blackwoolncrown]

i rb'd your donation post and genuinely wish you the best, but like...where tf are you gonna move that things are better?? Every place I know about has similar cost of living problems as the US and their own fucked up cultural biases/racism stuff going on. str8 up wanna know bc I'd move there too lmao

I've decided to not tell at this time specifically due to cultural beliefs and my position as an expat, but if this is something you want to pursue i would look into cost of living calculators to find a place that is more affordable than here, then consider things like language, culture, government etc to see where is suitable to move.

Again to be clear, a lot of people are moving to or considering my destination already so it's not like no one knows. And a lot of black ppl are leaving the US in general rn with the two biggest reasons being more affordable living and higher quality of life.

I know political problems and climate issues are global but you gotta understand the US is like... really really a shithole. It's just a fancy shithole with great press. I stand by what I said when I called it the worlds only 1st world 3rd world country. Loads of us don't have clean water or medical care, it's full of unhoused people, infant mortality rate is abysmal, birth rate is tanking, we have the most gun violence, and as if shootings weren't already a strangely American phenomenon, deaths by suicide are even higher. Add to that the fact that the government is literally imploding and has already gone full blown fascist. It's a corrupt police state oh and also it allows chemicals in body products and food that are banned in a majority of other countries.

It's...not actually unrealistic that there are better places to live.

There are also unique things to consider when it comes to the accessibility that being from America offers (which is, again, why I'm going to be fairly private about this).

There are a lot of places that are more affordable than the US. They just may vary widely on accessibility and other factors important to you.

Thanks for the well-wishes.

[nattikay]

yeah so YouTube randomly decided to recommend me some Beastars analysis videos and it inspired me to get off my chest some thoughts I’ve been holding on to since finishing the manga a few months ago. So uh if you haven’t watched/read Beastars (and there will be brief manga mentions so maybe vaguely spoilery for anime-only folks) go ahead and keep scrolling cuz this probably won’t make sense lol

anyways, here’s my hot take:

I think carnivores should be allowed to eat meat.

Like, they shouldn’t be allowed to murder, obviously. Predation is still bad, the livestock rings are still bad, the body-parts-hyperdrugs thing is still bad, and yeah those should all remain hecka illegal.

But barring those awful cases, the majority of the meat from the back-alley market is supposedly (secretly) donated by hospitals and funeral homes--in other words, from animals who have already died of natural causes. And I think carnivores should be allowed to eat the meat of animals who have already died so long as they’re not being intentionally killed for the purpose of consumption.

The reason for this is carnivores kinda biologically need meat to thrive. We’ve all seen those "owners trying to force their cats/dogs to be vegan” posts. Doesn’t end well. Sure, you could argue that the animals in Beastars have evolved past that need and their hunting instincts are merely residual--but if this is true I think could only be partly so, given Jack talking about how over the years carnivore bodies have been “shrinking” because they can’t eat meat. See also Gouhin telling Legoshi that there’s only so far training can take his strength as a wolf without adding a bit of meat to his diet.

Basically, the carnivore population is, to some degree, being legally malnourished and uh...yeah, it’s really no wonder that the back-alley market is such a big thing that almost every carnivore uses at some point in their life.

Unless their society can craft an adequate fake meat that actually fulfills all the nutritional needs of a carnivore (which is more than just protein--I know for example that taurine is an important thing with dog and especially cat foods, and vegan humans usually need B12 supplements so probably some of that as well, etc.), which they clearly haven’t given that these issues still persist--yeah, I think they should be able to eat real meat.

You could also argue that it’s not right to eat an herbivore even after they’ve died of other causes because they were a sapient being that may not have wanted their body eaten without their permission, and sure, that’s fair. So think of it like organ donation. Have a form a living herbivore can fill out, if they are comfortable with it, that says “yes, when I die you may use my meat”. There ya go. If it was a known and open thing how vital meat is to carnivore health, there’d probably be plenty enough donors while those who are genuinely uncomfy with the idea can easily opt out.

And with carnivore’s nutritional needs being better met and openly accepted, they won’t have to repress that side of themselves quite so much and therefore there’ll be less of an issue with said side bursting out via predation incidents. Heck, throw some more places like B-Strike in there too, and give carnivores a way to use their hunting instincts in a non-lethal way--kinda like the way you let your cat chase a feather wand to give it the thrill of a hunt without actually killing any small animals. Their hunting instincts are being satisfied in a safe way, and their nutritional needs are being met ethically--predation should drop a fair bit (won’t disappear completely because of course there will always be criminals, nothing you can do about that unfortunately, but should still drop) and everyone'd be healthier.

This is why I wasn’t super crazy about the back alley market getting demolished at the end of the manga, because while yes there was some nasty stuff going on back there that needed to be cracked down on, destroying the market...doesn’t really solve the root of the problem (that being that carnivores in this society are essentially malnourished/their hunting instincts are not being safely satisfied). If anything, it just delays it a bit and I wouldn’t be surprised if a few years down the road the market just starts coming back up again.

I mean, maybe it won’t be as bad because I guess they’re allowed to eat fish now?? idk that part was really glossed over so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  (yyyeahh the ending was...a bit of a mess...let’s just say it’ll be one of the few cases where I won’t mind if the anime makes some changes lol)

And honestly this was the issue I had with the second half of the series. If Legoshi doesn’t want to eat meat, that’s fine, and if he personally wants work crazy hard to completely purge himself of his hunting instincts and become as strong as he can without meat, cool goal man...but he needs to get off his high horse and stop trying to force that on everyone else. It was even hard to root for him a few times because I just...didn’t really agree with him lol. Carnivores (well, most of them) usually resort to going to the back-alley market not because they’re inherently corrupt, but because they have a legitimate nutritional deficiency that needs to be addressed, whether they consciously realize it or not.

Legoshi is a good character and all but dood ya gotta chill

aaaand yeah carnivores should be legally allowed to eat meat

so uh yeah there’s my (unpopular?) Beastars opinion, hope you enjoyed ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  

[randomgentlefolk]

Cpc chapter 129

Oh boy hooookayyy... After seeing that people doesn't mock Gwen for her looks I'm 50% relieved. Yep, only 50%. Because after seeing the cpc tag it looks like everything is going down and people are FREAKING OUT. If everything is really going down in the mid season break chapter, then get ready for some long ass post.

Before we get into theory let me just say Jollie's dad swinging Nell is SO CUTE

*clears throat* okay now..

I am actually really worried when Monika turned into a bird in the gala. People seems to be turning their eyes at her and if they see her changing her form that would be disastrous.

Really disastrous.

About Tori's opinion? I'm not 100% agreeing nor disagreeing here. I get where Tori is coming from. The princesses have responsibilities and stuffs yadda yadda. But what? So people can't have a break and always have to do works and stuffs? Is he saying "me time" isn't important at all. People needs place where they can be accepted and be who they are. Which, in this case, the princesses can't do. Not being accepted is really hard. And I think Tori should've understand a little because he has been friends with Monika since they were kids? Dude she was kidnapped as a child do you think she wouldn't want to hide herself because of anxiety and trauma? Plus, she has improved herself because of the cpc!! She stood up for Gwen in the barn, and she got in the gala room :D

Moving onnnnn... Whoever donated that crystal is a jerk, a big jerk. They already brought up so many people's hope! Parents who have cursed children, The cpc, and others. I mean if their purpose is to send the note to Jack, why not just try to sneak it in his pocket, or maybe his food/drink. Or like, idk, talk to him? Well let's take a look on who might be the suspect, shall we?

Okay wait. Now that I read the note more, I just realized. The omniscient clam isn't the thing Jack has been looking for, right? Because it says "I have the thing you're looking for, and you're the only person that can give me the thing I've been seeking as well... the omniscient clam" does that mean Jack already has the clam??? Can someone please explain to me in the replies? Wait but it could be a spoiler..

..anyways, the suspects

1. The plaid king (Leland)

Now obviously this is the prime suspect, like the, like the most possible suspect. Because he is like, Jack's closest friend and all. He knows about Jack and omniscient clam. AND it's best to say that the person who gives the note in the crystal knows who is Jack's daughter. Jack has been hiding his daughters, do people even know what they look like except Leland, Isolde, Jack, Cpc, and the plaid princes? Well maybe at Lance's gala people saw them, but no one saw Gwen because of Jamie's lights. So I think the suspect gotta be someone who knows Gwen, and the plaid king is one of them.

2. The plaid queen (Isolde)

Okay, I don't even know what would be the reason for her to have the omniscient clam (maybe ask if Leland truly love her? But I think she already knows the answer), but let me just point out that Lambcat has been clever with her plot twists. So it's better to think of the impossible too. I'm not even sure Isolde knows about the omniscient clam Jack was looking for, but maybe she overheard about it.

3. Dealer guy who took Jollie's eyes

I refuse to believe his entrance is merely minor and won't have anything to do with the future. I mean, the note did quite say about deals. Who else reminds me about deals other than that guy? But the problem is, his motive. While he can be said as "evil", I don't see him as the chaotic "imma rule the world" guy. He seems like a lawful evil kind of guy.

4. Jack's parents

Okay I really hate them (i wanted to say something ruder but eh this will suffice). Anyway, like I said, we should look at every possibility. As much as I want to believe they are dead, we don't have any confirmation. But why would they want the omniscient clam though? There's always more questions.. this one is really short because I dislike them and refuse to talk further about them. I hope Gwen will never meet them.

4. Literally random people

This is the most impossible. But hear me out, in the previous Polygon gala, some people may have heard about Jack and his clam returning thing.

It would've been easier if we could eliminate one of the people here, but no clue for now.

Hoookay i'm tired now. Well, if I have to be honest, I hope we will learn more about Lance. We already learn about Blaine and Frederick, so might as well learn about him right?

[nugnthopkns]

i’ll tell you i was wrong if you dance with me

word count: 3.3k

warnings: explicit fem!reader, slightly unhealthy relationship moment (lack of communication), mention of infidelity, cursing, alcohol consumption, a fair bit of angst

recommended listening: fred astaire | adam brock

a/n: communicate with your partners!!! also yeah this is the song from lady bird. it’s a banger

This seriously isn’t happening. 

You never fight with Travis. Communication comes easy between the two of you, but you also make it a priority to talk about your feelings. It keeps things from boiling over; both of you are known to unleash wicked tempers on occasion and have found being direct stops issues from occuring. Arguments still occasionally happen, but they’re typically over trivial things like what movie to watch or where you’re spending the holidays. Travis apparently forgot about the fact you talk to each other about things. 

He’d been upset when he came home from practice, but you were pretty sure he was fine after he woke up from his pre-game nap. Knowing he’s a superstitious person and has a lot of pressure on him to put up points, you had made the choice not to ask about what was bothering him. Throwing off his routine could have detrimental consequences. Tonight's game is tighter than it should have been, but the Flyers come out on top. Travis spends a bit more time in the penalty box than you would have liked, but everyone was getting chippy by the start of the third period. Claude tries to talk to him on the bench but he gets shut down. Whatever Travis was upset about before is still clearly bothering him, and it’s affecting his game. 

You’re following Travis home from the game, and can tell he’s uptight from the way he’s gripping the steering wheel. As you wind through downtown Philadelphia you try and prepare yourself for any bomb that could drop. Chances are that when you reach your apartment things will explode. Maybe it’s nothing; Travis is fine and just wants to be a responsible driver for once. You pull into the free spot beside his car and see him walking towards the elevator, suit jacket balled up and tucked under his arm. This won’t be good. Trying to buy yourself some time, you take the stairs. Seven flights later you arrive outside your door; he left it unlocked, which gives you a sliver of hope things will be fine. 

“Do you want to talk about what’s bothering you?” you call into the darkness of the apartment. Your sneakers are left at the door and to retreat towards the bedroom, looking for a sign of life. You find one in the bathroom: the light is on. A gentle push on the door reveals your boyfriend is in the shower and ignoring you. 

“Trav?”

“Yeah,” he huffs, words muffled by him tossing his head back to rinse the shampoo of his hair. Apparently the shower isn’t as relaxing as he had hoped. 

You don’t bother to tread lightly, upset that he’s acting like a child. “You’re being an asshole. I get that you had a bad day, but you can’t take it out on me. I just want to help.”

Travis turns the water off suddenly. “Can’t help if you’re the problem,” he scoffs. 

His statement doesn’t make sense. You’ve done nothing out of the ordinary the past couple of days; nothing that would warrant the behaviour you’re receiving. “What do you mean?”

Shouldering passed you to exit the room, Travis doesn’t bother to respond. You’re beyond frustrated: partners in healthy relationships communicate, not show emotions like grade schoolers. “You’re not giving me the fucking silent treatment Travis. You gotta talk to me.” The bedroom is dark when you enter and you flick the overhead light on to see better.

“You really don’t know?”

“Of course I don’t know,” you seethe. “If I did know we wouldn’t be in this predicament because we’d be solving the issue.”

The glare you receive is sharp enough to cut stone. He pulls on a t-shirt, anger clear in the aggression he does it with. “Why did I have to find out from Carter that you’ve been getting coffee with your TA?”

You’re shocked. In no way is it what he thinks it is. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you sigh, upset that Travis would take someone else’s words at face value and not talk to you about it. 

“I’m dead fucking serious Y/N. You preach communication, but it looks as though you’re the one who hasn’t been doing enough talking.”

The room around you starts to spin. You can’t comprehend what he’s insinuating. “Wait, you think I’m cheating on you?” you ask. There has been a gross miscommunication error somewhere; never in a million years would you think of having an affair.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well what the fuck did you say?”

Travis tugs at the roots of his hair in frustration. He doesn’t answer immediately, pacing the length of the bed a few times. “I just–” he struggles to articulate his words. “I just said that you’re being a bit hypocritical, don’t you think? You’re standing here yelling at me because I didn’t voice my concerns, but you haven’t been talking to me about what’s going on in your life.” Travis’ tone is sharp, and it stings. 

It’s your turn to show how upset you are. Your hands curl into fists at your side, and you squeeze your nails into your palms before releasing them. “I do tell you what goes on in my life Travis,” your breathing ragged as you try to not lose your cool. “I ran into my TA at the coffee shop yesterday, and he paid for my drink because my card wouldn’t work. Didn’t think it was breaking news, sorry I don’t send you every single fucking life update that happens. What’s gotten into you?”

“You could have been cheating!” 

“But I wasn’t!” you scream, no longing caring about keeping up appearances. You can’t believe Travis would think that. It hurts. “And I never would! You know this”

He turns his back to you, like it pains him to look at you, but you don’t understand why. You're not the one suggesting infidelity. “That’s it? That’s all you’ve got to say?” he seethes. 

“That’s all there is to say! There’s nothing to explain, no secret to uncover. I’m not in the wrong here.”

“And you think I am?”

You look at Travis like he has three heads. “Are you serious? You’re the one who’s so fucking upset over a situation that could have happened to literally anyone.” Your tone suggests that you’re exhausted with the conversation, and Travis gets the hint. 

He slinks towards the door, still visibly angry. “I’ll take the couch tonight,” he grits out before tightly gripping the doorknob and shutting the door with more force than needed. 

The bed doesn’t look appealing, full of much happier memories, but fighting with Travis has knocked any and all energy out of you. You gingerly pull back the covers and slip underneath. Tears trickle down your cheek as you toss and turn, trying to fall into some sort of slumber. However, your mind has other ideas, replaying the blowout. You can’t begin to understand why Travis is so bothered by the instance, and more importantly why it caused him to disregard a fundamental part of your relationship. There’s little movement from beyond the door, but you can hear the faint noise of a Johnny Cash record playing from the speakers in the living room. After hours of staring at the ceiling your eyes close and a fitful sleep follows. 

You might have gotten nine hours of sleep, but you wake up feeling exhausted. Fighting with anyone drains you, but fighting with Travis is especially terrible because it rarely happens. There doesn’t seem to be any movement from the other side of the door; maybe he’s still asleep. You refrain from heading into the kitchen, unsure of what will happen if you see him. After nearly twenty minutes you can’t wait any longer to start your day and pad into the main living space. It’s empty: no sign that Travis has been there for many hours. Guess you don’t have to immediately deal with the fallout of last night. 

A post-it note is tacked onto the fridge handle and your heart skips a beat. In Travis’ chicken scratch it reads I’ll see you at the gala tonight. We’ve got media all day and I won’t be back in time for us to go together. There’s no mention of the fight, and you can’t judge from a two sentence note whether or not he’s still pissed off. 

“Fuck,” you groan. “The gala.” Tonight’s the annual Flyers Give Back gala, and you’re expected to be in attendance. It’s not even a charity event; the organization is offering a chance for business men to chat up the players in hopes they continue to donate. You find things like these unbearable and tedious, but Travis does his best to make them enjoyable. Not knowing what page you’re on with him is going to be terrible. There’s a pretty good chance he’ll ignore you if he’s still upset. 

As if someone is reading your mind, the better halves group chat starts to explode. Everyone is chattering excitedly about tonight, and under normal circumstances you’d be excited to see them in such a relaxed setting. It’s been a while you’ve all hung out, but you can’t find yourself to contribute to the conversation. You mute the notifications and do your best to move on with your day. The rest of the morning is spent working on your thesis; mind numbing work that almost makes you forget about everything that happened in the past twenty-four hours. Once you’ve hit an acceptable word count for the day you shutdown your computer and make lunch. 

The grilled cheese sandwich you eat while watching a John Mulaney comedy special fulfills your appetite but doesn’t curb your dread. You decide to call your sister, hoping she can be a welcome distraction. Dialling her number you sink further into the couch cushions, wrapping yourself tightly with a blanket so that only your head is poking out. “What’s up?” she asks, and you hear her shuffle in the background, presumably to move somewhere more private. It isn’t normal for you to call her unannounced. 

You hold it together for approximately two seconds. The tears start and they don’t stop. Every emotion you’ve felt since getting home last night comes to the surface, and before you know it you’re sobbing into the receiver. 

“Woah, slow down,” she says. “Y/N, take some deep breaths.” When your breathing returns to a somewhat regular level she continues speaking. “What happened?”

It takes you nearly twenty minutes to tell the whole story because you’re so distraught. No detail is spared, and you go back much farther than is probably needed. You recount what happened after yesterday’s practice, pretty much the entire game, and the fight that followed. “I just don’t know what brought this on,” you sniffle. “We don’t fight, we talk about things. I’m not sure if I’m more upset at what he insinuated or at the fact he broke a cardinal rule.”

Your sister sighs, and you hear her breath fan in slight annoyance. You’re worked up about something kinda stupid, you know, but you can’t let it slide. “It’s probably a bit of both. So, what are you going to do?”

“What can I do? I know that we need to talk about what happened, but a public event is not the best place to do that. I also can’t not show up or ask Trav to ditch in order to figure this out. We have to be there.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it figured out then.”

You really don’t. “What happens if he ignores me the entire night?”

She laughs and tells you to not to anything stupid, and to take your mind off of things tells you a story about your nephew eating dirt. It does the trick; you’re momentarily distracted and forget about Travis. You talk for a while longer before she has to go. “Miles is crying, will you be okay if I let you go?”

It’s your turn to laugh. “I’ll be fine,” you insist. A glance at the clock tells you it’s time to start getting ready. “I’ve gotta shower and start the process. Beauty is time consuming you know.”

Against your better judgement you open your text messages to see if there’s anything from Travis. His text thread is the same as it was yesterday and you’re disappointed. You had hoped that maybe he’d get bored between interviews and check in. With no new notifications you exit out of the application and pull up a playlist you hope will brighten your mood. The steam from the shower relaxes your tense muscles and warms you up. It’s comforting in the way a cocoon is; you practically have to drag yourself out of the bathtub. 

Your bedroom is cold and doesn’t offer the same respite as the bathroom. The music continues to float in from the hallway, and you allow yourself to get lost in it. It’s been a while since you danced around your room; it worked to cure sadness when you were a teenager. Hopefully the magic hasn’t worn off. You flail your arms, not caring how silly you look since no one is here to see you anyways, and scream along at the top of your lungs. After a few songs you feel better and return to the task at hand. The dress code is labelled as ‘black tie’ on the invitation, but that isn’t what you’re worried about. You own a million dresses for situations like this after being with Travis for so long. You don’t know what he packed to wear, and there’s a decent chance you’ll be pushed together for photos. Clashing colours will look terrible.

A quick glance through his side of the closest leaves you no clues, so you decide to be as literal as possible. Black is a flattering colour and works well with every colour combination. There’s a jumpsuit hanging in the back that catches your eye and you think it’s the perfect choice. After pulling it on you move back into the bathroom to do your hair and makeup. Everything is natural and relaxed; once again for the sake of potential photos. The clock strikes on the hour and you realize it’s time to leave. A pair of heels are slipped on and you order an Uber before locking the apartment and heading to the lobby. You had thought about driving yourself, but on the occasion that things don’t end well with Travis you’ll probably have more than a couple of drinks. 

The entire way to the venue your leg bounces up and down. It’s been years since you’ve been this nervous about being around the team. You’ve been with Travis for a few seasons now, and the organization has become a second family to you. No one is going to know about the fight and you worry they’re going to talk about your solo arrival. The outside of the convention centre is sharply decorated, and your driver lets out a low whistle at the extravagance of it all. “Thank you so much,” you gush, and exit the car. Thankfully no photographers are set up outside, and you dart inside without being seen. 

Once in the main event space, you scan for the bar. There’s no sign of Travis, which should make you more relaxed but doesn’t. What if there was an accident on the way to the venue? You have no idea where he was all or who he came with. Overthinking distracts you from your original goal, leaving you standing aimlessly in the middle of the room. 

“You look like you might need one of these,” Ryanne chuckles, handing you a champagne flute. You gladly accept and down it in two gulps. “Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, eyes scanning to see if your boyfriend has made an appearance. 

She sees right through your facade of calm and wraps you in a tight hug. “What’s going on?”

For a second time today you explain what happened last night. There’s no judgement from Ryanne as there might have been from your sister because she understands. Dating a professional athlete isn’t easy; things like this happen much more frequently than you’d expect. Perhaps it’s all the time spent apart that makes the occasional lapse in communication so apparent. She listens quietly, full attention on you. To your credit you don’t cry this time, slightly more numb to the situation to due more time passing. It still hurts a tremendous amount. 

“He’ll come around,” Ryanne insists. “TK is a little moronic sometimes, but he’d never jeopardize his relationship with you. You’re quite literally the most important thing in his life.”

 “I know. I’m just upset because the whole thing could have been avoided.”

She offers you a sympathetic smile. “I know.” Ryanne links her arm through yours. “Let’s go find something to snack on.”

You spend most of the night with Ryanne, and occasionally Claude when he can get away from the hot-shot businessmen. Travis eventually came in, flanked by Nolan, but was immediately pulled into the politics of the night. The two of you occasionally sneak glances at each other and you tell he’s uncomfortable. You can only hope it isn’t because of your presence. It’s nearing eleven; the party has become a much more relaxed affair, and the DJ is playing sappy love songs in an attempt to get the media team some good photo ops. An intern asks the Giroux’s if they’ll dance for an instagram story and they both look hesitant. “Go on guys, I’ll be fine,” you reassure. It’s the subtle push they need to enjoy a quiet moment together. 

As if he can sense you’re lonely and feel out of place, Travis approaches you. It’s tentative, like he’s petrified you’ll turn him away, but he comes regardless. Drinks are in each of his hands and he extends one to you. When you don’t take it he sets it on the table behind you. “Hi,” he says sheepishly, fiddling with something in his pocket. 

“Hi Travis.” You’re determined not to let his presence crack your resolve; last night illuminated a big issue and it needed to be dealt with. It’s proving to be difficult because he bumps a shoulder against yours and all you can think of is kissing him senseless. 

The song changes to a Bruce Springsteen ballad, and you recognize it instantly. It played at the coffee shop on your first date with Travis all those years ago. One look at him tells you this isn’t an accident, that he had requested it specifically for the two of you. “Dance with me?”

You sigh deeply, looking him in the eyes. “Trav, this isn’t going to magically fix things.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he pleads. “I fucked up so bad last night because I was being an idiot. I wrote down everything I would do differently if I had a time machine, look.” A hand reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a piece of paper filled with his nearly illegible print. “Just one dance, and then we can go home and talk about it like I should have suggested in the first place. Let me know we’re still okay.”

If you hadn’t been in public you’re sure Travis would have been in tears. It’s not necessarily a good look to cry in front of hundreds of sponsors. He has a reputation as the goofy boy who takes no shit to uphold. “You have a lot of talking ahead of you,” you say, and let him drag you onto the dance floor. Swaying in his arms you realize things are going to be just fine. Travis loves you and you love him; there’s nothing the two of you can’t work through. 

☼ ☼ ☼ ☼

taglist: @jamiedrysdales​ @kiedhara​ @tortito​ if you want to be added shoot me an ask :)

[ironmandeficiency]

falcon, falcon, goose!

pairing: sam wilson / reader

word count: 3547

summary: there were reports of geese leading people to their soulmates spanning centuries, and it seemed like a cool concept, but why did it have to coincide with you coming out of your writing slump?

warnings: cursing, geese, dumbassery, implied happy au where the avengers get along, iw and endgame who?

a/n: this is an older piece i wrote a couple years ago, decided to brush it up and repost it. and the reader works for snl bc why the hell not? keep in mind that the original was written before everything went to shit w iw & endgame. posted from mobile yet again yall what is wrong w me

it was a sunny day outside, and deciding that you had been cooped up for far too long, you brought your laptop to the park a couple blocks from your studio apartment.

being a writer for saturday night live wasn't always so peachy, what with the lack of a social life outside of your co-workers and constantly explaining your job to confused relatives. you had been in a slump for the past couple weeks, the fact most of your sketch ideas not making the cut for the next episode continuing to throw you off your rhythm.

this week, you were going to change that. Your headphones were playing your concentration playlist full volume and you were hyped to the max. with your laptop on the picnic table in front of you and a warm cup of tea beside it, you were ready to blow the producers away with your next idea.

"honk! honk!"

you felt something nudge your leg, but you were too engrossed into what you were typing to care. after getting through a few more lines, it happened again.

"honk! honk! honk!"

you couldn't hear the sound but the feeling on your leg got a little bit rougher, more demanding. you moved your headphones to the side for a minute and took a moment to look around you. there was no kid running to get their ball back or any squirrels nearby that dropped a nut.

strange.

but you put your headphones back on, trying to keep your groove alive while hoping the interruptions are finished.

"HONK! HONK! HONK!" the goose honked louder, pecking at your leg harder than it had earlier.

you were getting frustrated and a little pissed. the creativity was flowing through your veins for the first time in what felt like ages and this — whatever it was — decided that today was the best day to annoy you.

you kicked your legs out with a strange flail and when you came into contact with something large and solid you nearly screamed.

"ow! motherf- oh my god!"

standing on the ground beside your table was a goose. it honked yet again with impatience (geese could do that?) and nipped lightly at your thigh closest to it. looking to the pond nearby, it was nearly an entire gaggle of the damned things.

so here was this goose honking at you and nipping at you like you were supposed to know what the hell it wanted from you.

"i don't have any bread, dumbass. go find someone else to bother." thinking it would leave if you ignored it, you turned away and continued your work.

"HONK! HONK!" it continued to honk and decided to peck you before flapping its wings, landing itself on the table next to your computer.

"get outta here, ya damn goose!" while you were trying to shop it away, it expertly evaded you. "go! shoo! leave me alone!"

it just stayed over on the bench, expertly dodging your attempts to get it to leave.

a few people nearby had heard your altercation with the infernal bird. one of them was an older gentleman that laughed as he sat across from you, the mirth in his eyes glinting as you give him a sarcastic side eye while trying to deal with the current issue.

"that bird won't leave you alone, you know." At his voice, the goose calmed down and waddled a few feet away from your arm's reach.

that was the first time the thing had been seemingly calm since he showed up at your little table.

"what do you mean he won't leave me alone?"

he pauses, part of him enjoying the irritation in your tone. he remembers someone talking to him like he was to you many years ago, and it made his heart smile at the idea of repaying the favor. "have you ever read about soulmate geese?"

"hey we're gonna go for a run, wanna join?" steve’s offer was given with a smirk. ever since reuniting with bucky, the two supersoldiers found so much humor in doing laps around sam every time they went out jogging.

it annoyed the shit out of him, the "on your left" comments from steve and the newer "on your right" jabs from bucky, but it also pushed Sam to work harder during his runs. ultimately he knew his non-enhanced body didn't stand much of a chance beating them, but he enjoyed when he was able to close the gap between their times just a little bit.

"sure, just gimme a few to eat breakfast and I'll join you guys." the blond nodded and turned back to the elevator, having woken up far earlier than sam and therefore already ate.

he hummed otis redding as he laid the bacon flat into the pan, shoulders moving along with his created rhythm while changing the grounds in the coffee filter. this was how he spent most of his mornings, barring the occasional hangovers and missions where he couldn't afford the distraction.

he ate, got dressed, and told FRIDAY to let bucky and steve know he was ready to go. h had his water bottle in hand, giving his body a pep talk in preparation for the run. they met in the common room and soon, the trio was off.

"on your left!"

"on your right!"

"oh, come on!"

he knew it was gonna happen, but for some reason it felt like it happened sooner than normal. either they were trying really hard to mess with him today, or he was off his game. but regardless, he pushed his body harder than he probably should have because when there was something obstructing his path, he didn't pause. no, he charged it straight on through and fell hard.

steve and bucky had seen this from a distance and immediately rushed to get to their friend.

sam rolled onto his back, exhausted and now in terrible pain from the fall. he closed his eyes and just let it all sink in. when he opened his eyes at the sudden foul smell flooding his nostrils, he could feel the palpitations, thinking he was about to have a heart attack.

"holy shit!" sam sat up like a rocket despite the way his body was throbbing from the fall.

the goose stared at him curiously and turned its head toward the pounding footsteps from the approaching brooklynites.

"sam! What happened?" steve was concerned, inspecting sam while bucky noticed the bird. The brunet bent down to meet the goose eye-level and was somewhat surprised that it didn't run away at the close proximity.

"did you trip the dumbass? was it your fault sam landed on his face? Huh, little guy?"

"honk! honk!"

"i thought so. good job, man." bucky pats the animal on the head gently before turning to help steve get sam off the ground.

"nothing’s broken but there's probably a sprain, can't really be sure until we get to cho." sam and bucky lift their friend from the pavement and they have no problem supporting his weight.

they began the walk back to the tower in silence. well, almost silence. there was a faint pitter-patter of tiny, webbed feet behind them that sam and bucky weren't paying attention to.

steve noticed the goose slowly waddling behind the trio and looked at sam with a smile. sam responded to steve’s happy face with a glare, not enjoying any of the situation he found himself in.

"look behind us, guys."

both men took turns looking behind them and see the goose waddling behind them patiently. sam wasn't particularly happy about the culprit from moments before trailing behind him, but bucky thought it was hilarious.

"do you know what this means?"

sam rolled his eyes because he thought the blond was about to make some sort of poetic comment about one thing for another.

bucky had paused to think about the implications of a random goose for a moment before gasping. "dude," bucky nudged sam softly, being conscious of his friend's injuries. "you’re gonna meet your soulmate, man!"

"a soulmate goose. man come on, are you out of your mind?"

"steve got his goose back during the war, i think we know enough about it."

sam had only heard vague reports of soulmate geese throughout his life, but now that he thought about it, it did make sense. the goose showed up randomly in the middle of his routine, completely throwing him off, and was now refusing to leave him alone.

"well if this is my soulmate goose, then somebody’s gotta tell tony about our newest avenger." they laughed at the implication, viciously eager to witness tony’s reaction to the newest resident of avengers hq.

it has been three days of dealing with your goose, and you were now teased at work as “bird brain”, walking into your office to see several loaves of bread covering the desk. your goose, that you had named piper once you got home, was excited at the prospect of more food, but you planned on donating most of the bread to local shelters, only keeping a couple loaves for the house.

the guest host that week was mick jagger, and he had emerged into the room “i dream of jeanie” style, startling both you and piper, who honked at him in irritation.

it was time for you to work on the song for your little sketch with him, and you had only two more days before performance night (it was thursday) to finish writing it. after settling down and getting into the right mindset, the writing process had begun.

"alright let's see," mick murmured. "let’s all go to the picnic, let's all have a drink. what rhymes with 'drink'?"

you thought for a moment and said quietly, "think?"

you weren't prepared for the absurd response you received from the man, his accent making him round mean as he barked out a loud "NO!" with an unnecessary hand gesture.

piper just about lost it. she was honking and flapping around your office in a tizzy (but staying away from mick because the man was seen as a stranger she wasn't comfortable with).

you racked your brain for another solution, something else to rhyme with 'drink' and you eventually found it: "sink?"

mick thought about it for a moment before replying with a much lighter "yes!" also paired with unwarranted pointing.

‘motherfucker, is this how you write songs?!'

thursday and friday came and went, and soon it was time for your piece to be performed by mick. du to an accidental ankle twist someone else suffered, you were forced to perform a skit live for the first time in your career. it would have been great, but there was one teensy problem: piper blatantly refused to leave your side when it was time to perform, and she would honk and bite anyone that tried to keep her from you onstage.

even poor bobby, who she had grown fond of, was taking the brunt of it. she was not allowing you to be more than a couple feet away from her, and it was almost endearing if you weren't being broadcast on national television.

apparently, piper would also be making her debut appearance on saturday night live tonight as well.

saturday had arrived, and it was sam’s day of rest. he spent the day doing the bare minimum, eating junk food and watching almost everything on netflix he could find.

he didn't stray too far from tradition, not really. it was just that now he had a goose accompanying him the entire time, honking at this and that and eating occasional pieces of popcorn that sam didn't want to share.

he didn't mind his feathered companion, he was actually quite fond of his goose at this point. whitewing (not to be confused with redwing) was the most calm goose any of them had seen, no biting or nipping and especially no honking at ungodly hours of the night.

steve was perplexed. "Are you sure whitewing hasn't done anything bad? no waking you up at night or bites when you don't feed him soon enough?"

sam would chuckle and shake his head, proud to have such a calm goose. "why are you so keen to see him misbehave? aren’t all soulmate geese like this?"

"for lack of a better word, most geese are assholes. i don't know how whitewing is so well behaved," steve balked at the very idea of all geese being so mellow and decided it was story time.

steve’s goose from the century before was the most rambunctious animal anyone had ever seen. he recounted the first and several occasions following where his soulmate goose, jimmy, fended off the blond man's alleyway attackers.

sam was extremely grateful that whitewing had less feral and goose-like tendencies. whitewing was extremely well behaved and had an almost human way about him, the way he honked in reply to sam or the rest of the team when they talked to him.

it was late in the evening when clint decided to plop down onto the couch and flick the channel to nbc, where tonight's host was mick jagger.

"why are we watching this?" sam was enjoying his sitcoms before the other bird man had showed up.

"i haven't watched it in ages, plus mick jagger is on tonight."

"alright, whatever you want."

the intro played like usual, and whitewing was perfectly complacent. they laughed in the right places with the occasional honking from the bird, and everything was great.

"hey man, look!" clint interrupted, keeping sam from being able to hear the punchline. "i think that's a goose!"

"why is there a goose? The skit has nothing to with-"

sam and clint seemed to come to the same realization at the same time as whitewing, the goose beginning to honk incessantly. he was going absolutely berserk, flapping his wings and hopping off of sam’s lap and onto the coffee table, occasionally pecking at the tv where he saw the other goose.

he was going absolutely bonkers.

"whitewing! whitewing, no! calm down!" sam scrambled to calm down his goose, but he was having none of it. the whole entire skit, whitewing was honking and flapping and being a general nuisance.

he found his soulmate.

whitewing kept at it until the screen went to a commercial, his soulmate off of the screen.

"y’know," clint spoke around a slice of pizza. when did he get pizza? "if you hurry, you could go to the studio and meet your soulmate. the show is about halfway over."

before sam could think over the proposition, tony’s voice was heard from the corridor. "somebody shut that damned bird up before I pay ramsay to cook it!"

"i’m taking care of it!"

with that, sam heads to the armory with whitewing on his tail to get his wings. once he's equipped, sam heads to the window and jumps, immediately setting his course for studio 8h and his soulmate.

you’re released to go back to your office once you finish the skit alongside mick and piper, the show almost over. you’re gathering your things lazily, knowing that you have no other responsibilities for the night.

just as you lock your office and piper is waddling beside you without a care in the world, you see kyle running towards you with a look of fear in his eyes. that fear seems to only triple when his eyes land on piper beside you.

"kyle! what’s-"

"there’s another goose on the set! no one is safe!"

wait, was he bleeding?!

you were going to try and help your friend but one look at piper sent him off the rails, the lanky man nearly falling on his ass in an attempt to skid the corner. you hoped that someone would help calm your panicked friend, seeing as you were literally the worst person for the job at the moment.

without further incident, you are able to say goodbye to cecily and mikey before you're stopped in your tracks by michael, who gives piper a funny look.

"wait, so the goose that attacked kyle wasn't piper?" You shake your head in confusion. "dude, your soulmate must have come to the set!"

piper must have either understood what your co-worker had said or she could sense a change in the studio, but she began to honk erratically and run away from you. the last thing new york needed was two feral geese running around attacking people, so you did what anyone would do and ran after her.

"piper! piper, come back!" michael laughed as you chased after your goose. while you were running, you nearly died when you heard a honk that you knew wasn't from your piper. hers were carved into your brain, and you were positive that you could pick hers out of an entire gaggle of geese, so there was indeed a second goose in the studio.

to your dismay, piper did not stop and wait, she just kept on honking and flapping and scaring people in pursuit of the other goose, poor old you having to chase her.

there was another voice you assumed was yelling at his goose since you didn't know of anyone naming their kid whitewing. your eyes were not looking straight ahead when you suddenly bumped into someone, immediately stumbling a bit before regaining your balance.

piper had stopped her honking and that scared you. did someone hurt her? was she-

her and another goose were making muted honks to each other. they sounded like affectionate honks, which is one of the weirdest sentences you ever constructed in your head. but it was true! they were cuddling close to each other and making really quiet honking noises at each other, and if that wasn’t affectionate then you didn’t know what would be.

so if piper found her soulmate, that means yours was-

"i hope comin' to your job was okay. whitewing wasn't gonna give up until I left, so here we are." your eyes were dragged from the touching scene of piper and her special goose to a pair of dark brown irises that radiated warmth and a promise of happy days.

you were absolutely dumbstruck. your mouth was unable to form coherent words, so you decided to take in the appearance of your soulmate. he was wearing a soft grey tee and sweatpants, and socks without shoes. did he realize how unsanitary the streets of new york were?

but upon further investigation, you realize that he probably didn't walk to the studio. on his back was what you would normally call a jetpack, but when you recognize the face your mind completes the puzzle: your soulmate is sam wilson, otherwise known as the falcon. holy shit.

"uh yeah of course, i guess you flew here? no sane person in new york would walk around barefoot in the street." did you really just say that?!

sam nodded and then remembered that he was in his pajamas in front of his soulmate without any shoes. "yeah, he wasn't gonna stop attacking the tv once he saw uh…"

you realized he was asking for your goose’s name, and so you hastily gave it to him.

"yeah, once he saw piper, he went wild. caused more chaos in five minutes than he did in five days!"

you laugh, the nervousness falling away as you recount the story of you first meeting with piper.

people are staring at the pajama-clad avenger and his soulmate, their geese finally satisfied. after all, it wasn't every day so many people were able to watch soulmate geese (and their people) meet for the first time.

sam gently took your hand, his thumb smoothing the skin on the back of it, just listening to you talk. you asked him a question about whitewing and he was in the middle of telling you when he cut himself off. "i just realized i don't even know your name!"

in most scenarios you’d be slightly put off by this, but you didn't have an issue because of the specific circumstances. if he weren't an avenger you wouldn't have known his either, and plus, no one really pays attention to the little rat writers. you give him your name and smile when he introduces himself, his voice even helping show off the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

with impeccable goose timing, piper and whitewing honk at you to hurry your introductions and leave the studio.

"do you want to fly back to your place , or can I drive you?" it was a risk to ask him such a question, but you were genuinely concerned. you hoped he wouldn't think you were trying to jump his bones only minutes after meeting him so you used (terrible) humor to show your intentions. "you shouldn't fly so late at night without headlights, no matter how high up you get."

sam’s laughter was infectious and soon you joined him, your geese about to get more irritated with their humans.

"yeah, I'd like that. lead the way, soulmate." piper and whitewing honk as the two of you head to the lobby hand in hand, the birds waddling behind you just as happy as soulmate geese could be.

[make-me-imagine]

🍫13 Days of Halloween: Day 6

Prompts: “Where is all the Halloween candy?” “I don’t know” “Y/n”  

((Prompt changed slightly to match characterization))

Requested by: Anonymous

Pairing: Reader x M*A*S*H Unit (Platonic)

Gender: Neutral      Triggers: None

Words: 1,585     Genre: Humor; Hijinks

Note: Thank you for requesting M*A*S*H! I hope I did it justice~ The time-line might not match up, but whatever. 

You sat down with a sigh as Hawkeye and B.J. fixed themselves a drink, Radar scribbled on his notepad, while Potter sat nearby tapping his finger against his chin. 

“So after post op, we’ll invite the nearby villagers, hand out a bunch of candy to the kiddies, and then we’ll have ourselves a nice party” Potter recited as Radar nodded along.

“Sounds like a pretty good plan” you replied “How does Frank feel about it?” 

“He doesn’t know yet” Hawkeye said, coming to sit next to you “We don’t think it’s necessary to tell his highness, he’ll complain about it either way”

“Who knows, maybe he’ll think it’s a grand idea” B.J. suggested as he sat on his own cot. 

“It’s Frank, B.J., his grand idea of a Halloween party would include everyone dressed in their fatigues dancing 6-feet apart to the tune of the star spangled banner.”

You smiled at Hawkeyes comment as he turned to you “So Y/n, have you decided what you’re going to wear?”

You shrugged “Probably something in a khaki color” you tugged on your pants as you spoke, knowing you had nothing to really wear. 

“Oh come on, you gotta dress up, we are!” B.J. said

“I’d love to dress up Beej but I have nothing to wear, I ordered a costume but it never came, I asked Klinger but he’s already given half of his clothes to the rest of the camp to wear.”

Hawkeye patted your leg, leaving his hand on your knee “We’ll find something.”

“I don’t know if I’d want to wear something you’d suggest” you replied with a note of suspicion. 

Hawkeye gave you an offended look “I have great taste in clothes!”

“You’re idea for a costume would be my birthday suit.”

“Oh, now that is an idea” he replied with a smirk, making you roll your eyes.

“Uh, Sir” Radar spoke up

“Yes Radar.” Potter asked

“There is just one problem with all of this” 

“What’s that Radar? You’re costume come in the wrong size?” B.J. quipped.

“Huh? Oh, no it's fine, well actually it is a little big, but that’s not it, I just, uh but  the requisition order for Halloween candy never came in. We’ve got some, but not enough for all the kids and for our party” 

You frowned at the news “And everyone donated money and or candy already?” 

“Yep, I mean everyone but Major Burns, but that’s because he still doesn’t know about the party”

You, Hawk and B.J. all exchanged knowing looks. Just as you did Frank came bumbling into the swamp, large package in hand “What’s that Frank?” Hawkeye asked.

“None of your beeswax!” Frank yelled aggressively, turning, he sees Potter “Oh, Colonel, hello”

You chuckled quietly at his sudden change in demeanor as he set down the package with a thud. “What’s in the box Burns?” Potter asked repeating Hawkeyes question.

“Oh. Uh, just a package from home” he answered as he began to open the package. 

“That’s nice. Well, in other news, Frank, we’re thinking of throwing a little soiree for Halloween, you got any candy you can donate, or money so we can buy some?” Potter asked. 

“A soiree? Sir that’s highly un-military” you and the others rolled your eyes as he began “And to answer your question, no, I don’t have any candy to donate, and I wont donate any money for your party” just as he answered, he opened the box, which was chock full of various candy bars and other bags of Halloween candy.

You and the others stood and hovered as you pointed at the box “Now you do!”

“What?! No, this is from my family, you can’t have it!”

“Oh come on Frank” Hawkeye began “We don’t want it all, just donate some! There’s no way you can eat all that yourself!”

“Just watch me!” Frank yelled as he stood, box in hand as he exited the swamp, dropping a couple pieces of candy on the way, which Radar scooped up.

You and the others exchanged annoyed looks as you watched Frank run across the courtyard, clearly towards Margaret’s quarters. “Oh, we’ll get that candy Frank” Hawkeye muttered quietly, so only you and B.J. could hear.

-

After a few failed attempts at retrieving the candy from Frank, Hawkeye and B.J. were about to give up, but tried one more time the day of the party as they cornered Frank in post-op “Where’s the candy Frank?” Hawkeye asked. 

“We just want some, for the kids Frank, think of the kids!” B.J. cut in.

“I don’t care, they’re not my kids! It doesn’t matter anyway, I ate it all” Frank said with a smug look on his face. 

Hawkeye scoffed “Frank if you ate all that candy then you’d be comatose.”

Frank scowled at Hawkeye as he turned to leave, Hawkeye and B.J. shared an exasperated look as they followed him out. Looking around, they see the nearby locals arriving, kids excited for having been told they’d be given candy.

“Frank, what can we do for you to to grow a heart and donate some of that candy?” B.J. asked.

Frank turned, seeming to think it over “You can’t make any jokes at me for the next month! And you must act accordingly in my presence, salutes and all!” 

Hawkeye and B.J. shared a look of disdain “Fine, fine! Just show us the candy Frank” B.J. muttered out

Frank smirked at them as he turned, leading them towards Margaret's tent, where he had been hiding the candy. You had been walking across the camp as came across them “What’s up guys?” 

“Frank agreed to give us some of the candy”

“Oh, is that so?” you asked, something in your voice that made B.J. and Hawkeye hesitate, but continued to follow Frank as you tagged along.

Entering into the tent, Frank opened up the closet pulling out the box. As he opened it, the three of you stood behind him watching. Hawkeye glanced at you, you met his eyes for a moment and smirked, making him curious. 

“Hey!” Frank called, earning all of your attention.

He dumped out the box, and all that fell out were some cans of corn and some loose pieces of candy. “He really did eat it all” B.J. muttered in disbelief. 

“Or maybe Margarete had a midnight craving” Hawkeye quipped before looking down at Frank “Where’s the candy Frank?” he asked, clearly frustrated.

“How am I supposed to know, it was in here earlier!”

“Maybe the candy-man took it” you joked, clearly not bothered by the missing candy. 

Hawkeye and B.J. looked at you, gathering you had something to do with it. And so did Frank. Standing, he eyed you “Where is the Halloween candy?” 

You looked at him, feigning offense while shrugging “I don’t know”

“Captain L/n” Frank began, pointing his finger at you, stopping only when the sudden sound of happy yelling children distracted you. 

Frank walked away, looking out of the tent, seeing a large group of kids jumping around as Father Mulcahy and a few nurses began handing out candy. Frank squinted as he looked closer “Hey! That’s my candy!”

As this was happening Hawkeye and B.J. looked back at you, amusement on their faces, knowing you had to be the one to do this. You looked at them, winking as they laughed out loud. 

Frank turned in anger, pointing his finger at all of you “I know you did this, you stole from me. After I get back my candy, I- I’ll, I’ll have you all on report!” 

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna go take your candy back from those kids Frank?!” B.J. asked incredulously. 

“I know you have stooped low before Frank but don’t tell me you’d actually take candy from a baby?” Hawkeye asked.

Frank opened his mouth to speak but stopped, turning and looking at the kids and then turning back “Well, why shouldn’t I? It’s my candy!”

You all rolled your eyes, as Margaret jogged up, “Oh, Major Burns you are so kind!”

“Oh, uh, thank you Margar- Uh I mean Major Houlihan, but uh, what are you talking about?” 

“Well, Captain L/n told me you had donated all that candy, and now look at all the kids they’re having so much fun!” she spoke with a wide smile.

Frank, Hawk and B.J. all turned to look at you as you stared at Frank with a blank face, hands in your pockets “Frank certainly is a kind and generous man isn’t he?” you asked, no emotion in your voice. 

“Oh he really is!” Margaret said as he smiled widely at Frank.

Frank hesitated, looking between you and Margaret “Oh, well, we do what we can Major” he feigned, taking the credit as you internally rolled your eyes.

Margaret suddenly pulled Frank away and towards the group of kids. Feeling pressure on both your shoulders, you look back and forth seeing both Hawkeye and B.J. resting their arms on your shoulder “Here we were, threatening him to give us the candy, and you swept in like a thief in the night” B.J. commented, still amused.

“Well now that that’s over” Hawkeye paused looking down at you with a smile “I’ve got a costume for you I think you’ll like” he smirked

“Oh no” you muttered. 

Hawkeye’s smirk only grew as he and B.J. shared a knowing look “Oh, yes”. Hawkeye looped his arm through yours as he began to drag you towards the Swamp, B.J. following behind.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Again, this was my first time writing for M*A*S*H, so I’m not sure if I did it justice lol, but I hoped you like it anyways. And please request more M*A*S*H in the future! I did enjoy writing for it and the characters!!

Please consider reblogging this, as this is a very small fandom, so reblogging it would be one of the best ways to spread it to other MASH lovers :)