#please anon send more asks i have so many ideas about these two and a chubby partner

[b0red-b1rds]

Okay, I can't get the idea out of my head of either Neuvillette or Wriothesley having a soft/chubby/fat partner and just adoring them and their body. Loving how opposite they are from them. Just cute fluff about strong men enjoying a fluffy partner 😌

On GOD anon you're so right

I know for a fact that Wriothesley would love a chubby partner. He's like a giant puppy when it comes to cuddles and playfully picking you up and laughing light-heartedly when you try to protest. You say you're too heavy? Utter nonsense, this man could probably do push-ups with you on his back. In fact, please do that. Not only does he get to finish his workout a little quicker, but he also gets to spend time with you!

He'd also delight in finding a perfect tea-and-snack combo that you enjoy when you have tea with him. Don't like tea? Got it. He'll find something you like so he can chat with you during his breaks! (If you eat something sugary, he'll chuckle and say something like, "With all the sugar you're enjoying, it's no wonder you're so sweet.") (I know it might sound mildly insulting, but trust me, he only means it as a compliment!)

And don't even get me started on Neuvillette. This man would be head over heels for a chubby partner. Soft hugs, gentle hands, and a sweet personality all wrapped up in a comforting fluffy package? Oh, be still his beating heart. You've got this man writing poetry about you (not that he'd ever share it. He's too embarrassed.) He'd actively find time to take breaks during his busy workday just to spend time with you. Do you want to spend time with him at the café? Alright, just let him finish reviewing this file, and he'll escort you. Would you rather spend time with him in his office? Wonderful, he'll have some snacks and tea delivered. Much like Wriothesley, Neuvillette will absolutely memorize your preferences and act accordingly when asking for food for you.

The cuddles from these two are immaculate. Always so gentle, but always eager to wrap you up in a warm hug and just stay there for a while. Wriothesley prefers to lay on your tummy or thighs, claiming they make for good pillows while he reads a book or reviews some important documents. Neuvillette, meanwhile, prefers laying on your chest so he can listen to your heartbeat. It never fails to lull him to sleep, no matter how hard he tries to stay awake and talk with you.

Both of these men would be absolutely whipped for a chubby partner it's true guys mhy told me so-

[shadowtriovibes]

Hello,

Can you write some shameless pre-relationship Sebastian x mc flirting? Like pining, comparing hand sizes, teasing about height, all that cringe cute stuff! Just go off on that however you like!

hello anon!! here's a quick 1.5k pg-rated words for you because i'd just started a little drabble of MC working at j pippin's for the summer and it turned into two goofy teens in love 🥹

edit: i felt like this deserved a name so i'm calling it "the potioneer's apprentice" and i personally love a potion-loving MC characterization very much so i may return to this 'verse later on xoxo

"I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself," you point out. Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders. "W-well, yours is better," he insists. "Always has been, even Sharp said so." "It's even better now," you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. "...You're not actually hurt, are you?" "No, just bored," he admits. "I wanted to see you."

Staring down at the order slip in your hands, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

Mr. Sebastian Sallow Feldcroft Hamlet

x3 Wiggenweld x1 Focus x1 Felix Felicis

“Simple enough,” Parry Pippin says cheerfully, tucking a knut into the pocket of the postal owl that had just dropped off your latest order. “I’ll put together the Liquid Luck, I know that’s a tricky one.”

Bustling over to his potions station, he adds, “I trust brewing the Wiggenweld and Focus draughts should be no problem for you?”

“Of course,” you say, quickly tying up your hair before lighting a fire beneath the cauldron at your own station.

You’ve been an apprentice at J. Pippin’s Potions for just over a month, refining your potions skills over the summer break – and helping keep an eye on things in Hogsmeade. In that time, your brewing skills have improved significantly, and Parry is more than happy to pass on some of the simpler potions to you.

Attempting to be casual, you ask, “Will this be a delivery?”

“Oh, I should think so,” Parry confirms. “Though it’s not exactly my neck of the woods.”

“Would you like me to drop it off?” you offer hopefully.

“How about this,” Parry offers. “I’ll send you down to the hamlet to drop these off, and then you can call it a day.”

“Thank you, Mister Pippin,” you say with a grin.

Your boss smiles approvingly as you carefully pour some horklump juice into your cauldron, precisely tapping the side of the bottle as he’d taught you.

“Besides,” he says cheekily. “I think this is the third time this month that young mister Sallow has ordered from my shop and requested delivery, even though Fatimah’s shop is much closer.”

You nearly spill the entire bottle.

“Any idea why a Hogwarts student on summer break would need so many potions?” Parry asks, smirking to himself as he pours some lacewing flies into his cauldron.

“W-well, I – I suppose he could be clumsy,” you mumble unconvincingly. “O-or stocking up, perhaps. We’ve got N.E.W.T. classes next term, some of these spells are quite challenging, a-and the beasts, we’ve got Grindylows to examine, you know how they bite…”

You trail off feebly, blushing a bright red. The Wiggenweld potion in your cauldron signals its completion with a puff of smoke, offering a welcome distraction.

“Aye, of course,” Parry murmurs, sounding very much like he doesn’t believe you in the slightest. “In any case, as soon as you finish that Focus potion I’ll send you on your way.”

Quickly ladling three portions of Wiggenweld into Parry's glass vials, you scrub out your cauldron and prepare the last draught, wrinkling your nose at the smell of dugbog tongue. Once it starts to smoke and bubble, you measure out a generous portion and collect the Felix Felicis from your boss, tucking the lot into your satchel.

“Please thank young Sebastian for his order, and tell him I said good day,” Parry tells you with a wink. “And to kindly stop pilfering my apprentice so often.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply sheepishly.

Outside the shop, you trek outside the boundaries of Hogsmeade to hop onto your broom and head south toward Feldcroft. It had been more than a week since you’d seen Sebastian, which felt like an eternity compared to how often you saw him during the school year.

One month into your break and you feel like a simpering wreck.

You miss him like crazy – not that you’d tell him like that, of course. He’s your closest friend, and the two of you have been through so much together in the past two years. You aren’t about to ruin it by confessing that you’re hopelessly in love with him.

—

Sebastian is not moping.

And even if he was, why shouldn’t he mope? He’s alone, it’s swelteringly hot in the hamlet and he hasn’t seen his best friend in a week.

He’s bored, and when Sebastian gets bored, he gets creative.

Really, it’s almost too easy to summon you to Feldcroft. All it took was a quick trip to see the owl post stand and another superfluous order for some potions (with a little bit of Liquid Luck thrown in on a whim), and he knew you’d arrive by the time the heat broke.

He conveniently manages to be tending to his small garden when you touch down beside the Sallow home, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows while he pats some dirt around a sprig of fluxweed.

“Sallow?” You call out teasingly. “I have an order here for Sebastian Sallow?”

“Must be a lazy bloke, ordering all those Wiggenwelds instead of making them himself,” he answers, sitting back on his heels and wiping some sweat away from his brow with the back of his wrist. “Or perhaps just daft.”

“I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself,” you point out.

Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders.

“W-well, yours is better,” he insists. “Always has been, even Sharp said so.”

“It’s even better now,” you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. “...You’re not actually hurt, are you?”

“No, just bored,” he admits. “I wanted to see you.”

If Ominis were here, he’d likely pick up on how those words make your heart race a little faster, but mercifully, Sebastian does not.

“Here I am,” you say. “And I’m all yours for the day, Mister Pippin gave me the rest of the day off.”

“Oh, really?” he replies, brushing some stray dirt off of his trousers as he stands up. “Whatever could we get up to with an entire afternoon?”

You blink in surprise as he stands, realizing for the first time that Sebastian has gotten taller.

“What?” he asks, catching your gaze.

“You’ve grown,” you say dumbly. “I – I mean, you’re tall.”

“Am I?” he asks, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Perhaps you’re just short.”

“I am not short,” you protest, following Sebastian as he leads the way into the old Sallow home.

It feels different now, obviously. Less like a family home and more like a chaotic bachelor pad, Sebastian’s strewn-about books and haphazard notes covering up a distinct lack of coziness.

It’s only for the summer, Sebastian had told you the first time you’d seen it.

(You know he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go anymore, what with the Gaunt household becoming more toxic by the day. You wouldn’t be surprised to find Ominis squatting there as well by the time July rolls around.)

“You’re practically pocket-sized,” Sebastian teases, closing the door behind you to keep some of the midday sun out. “I think it’s why you’re so powerful – it’s concentrated, your magic.”

You scoff and shove at his shoulder, wondering to yourself when he became so broad.

It had only been a few weeks since school had let out, hadn’t it? And suddenly Sebastian was walking around in a man’s body, one you were sure wasn’t there in Charms class in May. Or maybe it was, hiding beneath his suit jacket and his robes…

You blink rapidly to clear your head.

“Um. Your potions,” you mumble, pulling the rest of the bottles out of your satchel and placing them on the front room table.

Then you can’t help but ask, “What’s the Felix Felicis for?”

“Not sure yet,” Sebastian admits. “But I’m sure it will come in handy at some point.”

You hum under your breath, picking up the delicate vial and examining it in the light.

“Hand it over,” Sebastian demands with a laugh. “I don’t like the way you’re looking at that bottle, I know what temptation looks like on your face.”

Blushing, you place the vial in his outstretched hand, letting your own hand linger a beat too long. Sebastian quickly catches your wrist, turning your hand palm-side up.

“Merlin’s beard, your hand is small,” he observes.

“Not this again,” you groan.

“I’m being serious, you hold your wand with this tiny thing?” he jokes. “Poor Ollivander had his work cut out for him.”

“Let’s see yours, then,” you insist, holding your hand up to him. “Go on.”

Sebastian presses his palm against yours and you raise your eyebrows. His hand dwarfs yours to the degree that he could wrap the tips of his fingers overtop yours if he wanted to.

“See?” he says, his voice suddenly much quieter in the empty home. “Tiny.”

“And yet I can still beat you in a duel,” you retort, trying to calm your racing heart.

Just like that, the tension in the room dissolves away and Sebastian lights up.

“A duel, hmm?” he echoes. “Is that an offer?”

“Seriously? That’s what you want to do today?” you laugh. “It’s thirty degrees outside and you want to duel?”

“We could practice on the training dummies,” he offers hopefully. “You know you want to.”

…Damn him, he’s right.

“Fine,” you relent. “But if I sweat through this chemise, it’s your head, Sallow.”

Sebastian tries very hard to not think about you in a sweat-soaked white shirt as you lead him back outside, and if he trips over the doorframe on his way out, he’s happy to let you continue to assume it’s just his clumsy streak.

[monzabee]

kiss it better – ls18

masterlist ||

Summary: The one where a crazy idea turns out to be the best possible thing for you and Lance.

Pairing: lance stroll x reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: fluff, kissing and other than that none? might have a few curse words but otherwise very tame

Request: “okay so i’m obsessed with the lance stroll fake dating to lovers/friends to lovers but it’s always the reader asking. would you write lance asking reader to attend gala/wedding or something as his date and then the feels start to come up from both sides? smut, fluff, angst, wherever your imagination takes you x”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i did not expect to get this excited for a certain canadian man, but here we are!! now that i had the pleasure of writing about lance, i hope you guys know that more is to come, and thank you anon for the request!! i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 

You love slow afternoons, is what you realise as your fingers move out of their own volition on your keyboard as you try your best to finish your draft on time so that you can send it to your agent. Lance is on the couch next to you, his focus on his phone, rather than the show he has on your TV – which he ignores as he continuously texts with the person on the other end and lets out lengthy sighs every few seconds.

After what it must be the hundredth sigh of the evening, you give him a pointed look over the glasses resting on your face, “Okay, this is getting ridiculous.”

“What?” Lance asks, his shoulders rising in a half-hearted shrug. He glances up from his phone, his brows furrowing slightly as he registers your statement.

“You've been sighing and moping around for the past hour,”  you say, your tone a mix of annoyance and concern. “What's going on? Is something wrong with the ‘Real Housewives of Beverly Hills’?”

Lance sighs again, louder this time, as if to emphasize his frustration. He puts his phone down on the coffee table and runs a hand through his hair, tousling it further. "It's nothing," he mutters, his voice tinged with a hint of annoyance, “and the housewives are fine, not Kim, though. I think Lisa Rinna is about to break the wine glass, again.”

“You’ve watched the Amsterdam trip how many times, now?” You ask him as you get up from your place at the dinner table and grab your wine glass before making your way over to him on the couch and settle next to him. “Forget it, just tell me what’s wrong so that we can get your breathing back to normal.” 

“Chloe is what’s wrong,” Lance mutters, turning his phone screen towards you to give you a better look at the messages between him and his sister, “she is bugging me to bring someone to the wedding.”

You tilt your head to the side, “I thought you were going to take Sandra.”

“It was Sarah.” He returns your look with a pointed one of his own, “We kind of broke up, but now she want me to find another date.”

“So? Just find someone, Lance.” You give him a funny look as you fix the way your glasses are situated on your face and read the texts between the two siblings as you slightly lean over your best friend sitting next to you.

He sneakily places his arm around your shoulder in almost a reflex kind of way, as he argues, “I can’t just bring someone to my sister’s wedding, Y/N, she’s going to have the pictures up on her wall for the rest of her life or something.” He swats your hand away with a weak slap as you try to coo over his response, claiming that he is too sweet for this world when he asks, “Who are you bringing to the wedding, anyway?”

“No one,” you shrug, earning yourself a look from the man sitting next to you, “I’m not a Stroll, Lance, I don’t need to bring a date – ergo, I won’t.”

His eyes narrow on the edge as his voice comes off  doubtful, “So I have to find someone to bring to the wedding but you can choose not to?” The nod you give him makes him let out a loud groan, making you giggle as he adds, “Is it too late to ask your parents to adopt me?”

“How more dramatic can you be?” You laugh into the edge of your wine glass as you take a small sip, and then think for a moment as you roll your lips together. “Just ask someone you know to come with you, they’ll get a nice weekend out of it and you won’t disappoint Chloe.”

“You say as if it’s easy,” Lance sighs, but his eyes take on a mischievous glint as you realise he’s had one of his bright ideas and the next words prove that it’s, in fact, one of them. “Be my date.”

Your voice is squeaky as you get out, “Excuse me?”

“I need a date,” he point to himself, and then points the same finger to you, “you don’t have a date. I don’t want to take some random girl off my contacts list to my sister’s wedding, so it makes sense.”

“I- I can’t be your date, Lance!” You exclaim, jumping back slightly to shoot him a full on glare. “You’re my friend,” you emphasise the word, “my best friend.”

“Why not? It’s better than going with a random date.” He argues, “Plus, we’ll tell everyone that we’re trying to work things out and after the wedding we’ll tell them it didn’t work out – problem solved.”

“Problem not solved,” you contend. “I don’t want to lie to everyone, Lance, especially not to our families.”

“You’re not saying no.” He sings, a small smirk playing on his lips.

You give him a light shove as you mumble, “Shut up, I’m serious.”

“So am I, Y/N.” He sighs as he takes your free hand into his, which makes you involuntarily drag your index finger towards his palm, something you used to do to help him calm down when he was dealing with his wrists at the start of the season. It makes him smile softly at you when he realises it’s a thing that calms you down as much as it calms him down. “It’s not lying, it’s us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Your voice is lower than before, but you can’t put your finger as to whether it’s because you’re confused or something about the nature of this whole arrangement is scary to you – you pray that it’s the first, but something in your gut tells you it’s the latter.

The smile he gives you in return to your question can only be described as ‘warm’ – it’s soft, and it makes his eyes crinkle, and it’s just so him. “It means that people won’t question how we ended up together, especially our families.”

What he’s saying and suggesting makes sense, you realise. He needs a date and you can help your friend out – plus, it would be good not to hear your mother complain about how you’re single in your twenties for a change. You try to think whether you’d even think about actually accepting to fake date someone if the person asking wasn’t your best friend in the whole world. But with Lance giving you an expectant look and looking so cosy on your couch, coupled with the two glasses of wine you’ve had as an incentive to write, you find yourself giving the man sitting beside you a nod of your approval.

“Fine,” you sigh, “but if this blows up all in our face, I’m blaming you and telling everyone you forced me.”

“Pfft,” he scoffs, pulling you into a side hug as the fighting noises from your TV blends into the background, “it’s going to be great, you just wait and see.”

Weddings are epitome of romance in every conceivable way. And Chloe Stroll’s wedding? It is safe to say that her wedding is the level of magical that fairy tales aspire to achieve. Ever since you’ve stepped foot in Italy, you’re captivated by the views and the atmosphere of having all the people there for such a special occasion. The wedding venue is a stunning villa nestled in the rolling hills of Tuscany, with lush gardens and a breathtaking view of the countryside. Soft music floats through the air as guests mingle and soak in the romantic ambiance. Turns out Lance was right, after all, and both of your parents are ecstatic that you showed up together – and no one bats an eye when he wraps his arm around you to help you onto the boat, or how his hand linger a bit longer on your hip.

Another thing people don’t seem to focus? How his eyes seem to focus on your every move as you dance with one of Scotty’s cousins, or is he one of his friends? Frankly, Lance doesn’t care about the specifics. He is more focused on the way the man you’re dancing with makes you throw your head back in laughter and the genuine smile that lights up your face. Lance watches from a distance, his heart swelling with a mixture of happiness because of how happy you look, and a touch of jealousy because it is not with him. But seeing you so carefree and radiant in someone else's arms stirs up emotions he can't quite ignore. But all of that is thrown right out the metaphorical window once you excuse yourself from your new friend, and find yourself back to him – basically throwing yourself into his arms and asking him to dance with you.

“I don’t know sweetheart, weren’t you just dancing with your new friend?” He asks, and though he immediately regrets the snarky words leaving his mouth, which reflect all his jealousy at the moment, you just smile up at him with the softest smile he’s ever seen.

Instead of lingering on his words, you let out a small giggle, “I can’t slow dance with him, Lance, he is not my date!”

“Oh,” he murmurs, “right.”

“So, will you dance with me?” You ask him again, your voice filled with more excitement than before. Your lips form a small pout as you add, “Please?”

His eyes linger on your expression for a moment, and he links his fingers through yours as he leads you onto the dance floor to join the couples who already started dancing. “Let’s go,” as soon as the words leave his mouth, a small smile is quick to overtake his face as you let out a small squeal and a giggle.

As the two of you find your place on the dance floor, Lance pulls you closer, his hand resting gently on your waist. The soft melody of a romantic song fills the air, setting the perfect mood for a slow dance. You rest your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his embrace and suddenly you realise it’s much easier to focus on the steady rhythm of his heartbeat rather than the song which is playing on the background.

Lost in the moment, Lance whispers softly into your ear, "You look absolutely stunning tonight, you know that?" You can tell his words are filled with sincerity, and he makes you feel all the admiration he feels for you at that moment.

You give him a playful smile as you do the one thing Lance absolutely hates and answer his question with a question of your own, “Yeah? You like my dress?”

“You know I do,” he shakes his head, lips unable to stop themselves from forming a smile.

Sighing out a satisfied sound, you let fingers occupy themselves with the short strand of hairs on this nape. “Well good, Chloe said you’d appreciate the colour

– through jealousy is not a good colour on you.”

Lance chuckles, the sound rumbling against your cheek as you continue to sway together. "Chloe knows me too well," he replies, his voice filled with warmth, "I’ll just have to thank her for the dress."

“You better,” you scoff, your breath hitting his neck in the process, “it was an absolute pain to put it on.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” his fingers smooth over a crease near your hip, “I’ll help you get it off.”

You pause for a moment, the playful banter fading into a charged silence as his words hang in the air. The intensity of his gaze meets yours, and you can feel the shift in the atmosphere, a magnetic pull drawing you closer together. Your heart skips a beat, and you find yourself lost in the colour of his eyes. There's an undeniable chemistry between you, one that the two of you have been ignoring for a while, and one that has been simmering beneath the surface for far too long.

With a playful smile that eventually finds its way on your lips, you raise your head slightly to get a better look at him, “You’re drunk, Lance,” you announce.

Lance's grip on you tightens ever so slightly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns along your back. “What is it they say? Drunk words, sober thoughts.” Another squeal leaves your lips as he slowly dips you down, but you know he won’t let you fall.

As he pulls you up again and presses his forehead against yours, and as his nose nudge against yours which causes both of you to release breathy laughs, your voice is almost pleading, “Lance, I–”

“I know, sweetheart,” his voice is soft as he mumbles, and he repeats himself after dragging out a deep breath, “I know “I know but you deserve something better.”

But the question of what something better might be lingers in your mind.

It’s almost the morning when the wedding celebrations come to a pause, and you quickly find yourself on your way back to the hotel with Lance. Hand in hand, you walk along the dimly lit streets, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the night. The city is calm and peaceful, its beauty enhanced by the memories you've created during the wedding festivities. Lance steals occasional glances at you, a gentle smile playing on his lips, as if trying to etch this moment into his memory – you try to act as if you don’t notice, but the same gentle smile finds itself onto your lips every time you catch his eyes on you. As a true gentleman, he lets you lean against him in the elevator, knowing that you’re probably more tired than him because of your choice of shoes.

The soft hum of the elevator and the comforting embrace of Lance lull you into a sense of tranquillity. But all of that calmness is gone once the elevator stops at your floor and Lance pulls you closer as he walks you to your room. With each step, you become more aware of Lance's presence beside you. His warmth radiates, providing a comforting reassurance amidst the late-night stillness. The soft light from the hallway casts a warm glow on his face, highlighting the gentle curves and lines that make him uniquely him. You think the anticipation might actually kill you in the moment, but like a true gentleman, Lance takes out your room key and hands it to you – but even in that simple moment, you feel your entire body lighting up with something more for your best friend.

Your breath hitches once again that evening when Lance’s hands gently cup your face, but he lets you go once he presses his lips lightly on your forehead and gently rests your forehead against yours. “Go to sleep, sweetheart.”

You feel your heart drop as he pulls away from you, all the adrenaline you’ve been feeling slowly dissipates. A mix of emotions washes over you as Lance pulls away and leaves you standing there, your heart feeling heavy in your chest. The brief moment of intimacy between you leaves you longing for more, and you find yourself mumbling, “I thought I deserve ‘something better’.”

“Y/N,” Lance’s voice is soft, but you’re quick to cut him off.

“I- I just thought you might’ve been talking about yourself, you know?” You let out a nervous chuckle as you shake your head, “It doesn’t matter, it’s presumptuous – oh my god I am an egomaniac.” Taking a small step towards him, you give him the world’s most awkward hug, and slowly start to pull away.

Without you knowing behind his horrified look, Lance has the opportunity to put his quick decision-making skills to test. He knows that he can either let you go, which means the two of you will stay friends, or he can actually do what he wanted to do for a very long time – which has the potential to blow up in his face. So, this time he takes a step towards you, and manages to grab your wrist in time to pull you against himself. Pressing his lips onto yours in a haste kiss, he manages to take your breath away for the second time that night, and you realise what’s actually happening after a small brain malfunction. For a moment, you're both suspended in that kiss, your hearts pounding in sync. It's a moment of pure vulnerability and undeniable passion, a culmination of unspoken desires and the unravelling of emotions that have been building between you for far too long. But you can feel him smiling into the kiss as your lips start to move against his. He tries to pull away, but you chase his lips in what you can only describe as hunger, and both of you let out breathy chuckles as you manage to capture his lips in a kiss once again.

When you finally break apart, gasping for air, your eyes meet Lance's. His grip on your wrist tightens, as if he’s afraid to let you go, and in an attempt to calm his worries, you snake your hand into his and drag your index finger towards the center of his palm. “I meant what I said,” he says, breathily, “you deserve something better.”

“Lance,” you almost seem to grumble his name, “you are the ‘something better’.”

“Well I hoped you’d say that.” He nods his head, and throws you over his shoulder to walk towards his own hotel door.

A mixture of surprise and laughter escaping your lips, you playfully swat at his back as you try to urge him to put you down, but he just chuckles and continues on his mission. As the door to Lance's room closes behind you, the world outside fades away, and you find yourself enveloped in a bubble of anticipation and excitement. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Lance gently sets you down on your feet. The room is dimly lit, casting a romantic glow that accentuates the chemistry between you. The air is charged with unspoken desires and a magnetic pull that draws you closer together. Lance takes a step towards you, his gaze filled with longing and affection. Without a word, he reaches out to cup your face in his hands, his touch sending shivers down your spine. Your breath catches in your throat as he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender and passionate kiss.

In that moment, all doubts and uncertainties melt away, replaced by the overwhelming certainty that you've found something truly special. It's a love that has been quietly brewing beneath the surface, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal itself. As your lips move together in a dance of shared desire, time seems to stand still. The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you in this intimate and electrifying connection. Every touch, every caress, ignites a fire within you, and you find yourself getting lost in the depths of Lance's embrace.

When you finally break apart, your eyes lock, and a shared understanding passes between you. It's a silent promise, a mutual agreement to explore this newfound love and see where it leads. With a smile that speaks volumes, Lance intertwines his fingers with yours, pulling you closer as he leans down to whisper in your ear. “I promised you I’d take your dress off, didn’t I?”

[justabigassnerd]

The Talk

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader, Bradley Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader

Word count - 2,701

Warnings - mentions of sex, lil' splash of angst, fluff

Summary - you and Bradley near the next step in your relationship, however, you worry about it

Sequel to - 'Overprotective Aviators'

A/N - what is up y'all? I appear once more to offer y'all a fic that was a lovely anon request! I had so much fun writing this and I hope I did the idea justice! I won't ramble so as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

It had been almost one year since Bradley asked you out on a date and your relationship was still going strong. It took your dad a good week or so to actually process the fact you were dating his best friend’s son but after a long talk with Bradley which ended with Bradley ensuring he’d do his best by you and wouldn’t break your heart; your dad accepted it. Though it didn’t stop him from insisting you kept your PDA to a minimum when you were in his immediate vicinity.

The further into the relationship you got with Bradley, you started to get more intimate, lingering touches lasted longer than usual. You hadn’t had sex with Bradley, but your mind was screaming at you that you were getting clear signs you were nearing that step in your relationship. You were sure Bradley had much more relationship experience than you. He had girlfriends before he got with you, but Bradley was your first relationship. You had never been massively popular in high school so many boys didn’t look your way. Even if you did have boys throwing themselves at your feet, you were sure your dad would’ve chased them away sharpish.

Carole had quickly caught onto the changes that happened with you. She noticed how you and Bradley were more touchy than usual. How you often went off seeking privacy with him more often than not. She knew Maverick and Goose hadn’t picked up on the changes. She loved the two men dearly, but she knew there wasn’t a thought that occurred in their heads most of the time. She also knew that she should have a conversation with you, woman to woman.

One day, when Bradley was out with Maverick and Goose, working on repairs on the P-51 Mustang Maverick had found himself in possession of, Carole had headed over to your house, knocking on the door and greeting you with a smile.

“Hey, sweetie. Could we have a chat?” Carole asks as you invite her in, following you into the living room and sitting on the sofa as you nod.

“Of course. Is everything okay?” You reply, sitting down on the sofa, leaving a little gap between both you and her as your mind begins to race with worst-case scenarios.

“I just wanted to have a chat with you, woman to woman.” Carole says softly, taking one of your hands in hers and squeezing it softly. You remained silent, confused about what she was getting at.

“Now, sweetheart, I’ve noticed some changes with you and Bradley, and something is telling me you two are nearing that step where you are going to have sex for the first time.” Carole says, getting straight to the point as you feel your face get hot very suddenly.

“What? Carole, I don’t-”

“y/n, don’t bother denying it. I have eyes you know. It’s okay if you want to take that next step together.” Carole says, not letting you try and hide behind a lie. You remain silent for a moment, processing her words and thinking about your own doubts.

“I’m scared.” You admit quietly, dropping your head as Carole squeezes your hand softly, getting you to look at her.

“What are you scared of, sweetie?” Carole asks softly, her gaze never leaving you. She was all too aware that you didn’t have any kind of maternal figure in your life, so she always did her best to be a trusted woman in your life, especially since your dad had a tendency to sleep around and never get in a relationship.

“Bradley’s been in more relationships than me. He probably knows what to do and what not to do with things like that. I’m scared I’m not good enough for him.” You confess, blinking back the tears that threaten to spill past your defences as Carole coos quietly, bringing you into her arms as she rubs a hand up and down your back as she holds you tight.

“Oh y/n/n. You don’t need to worry about that. Bradley is most definitely head over heels for you. I know taking steps like this is scary, but communication is key in relationships, sweetie. Goose and I have to have conversations about things. Every couple needs communication, it’s what keeps relationships afloat. You don’t even need to have the conversation the next time you see him if it doesn’t feel right. Just make sure you do talk about it. I’m sure if you spoke to him, he’d understand. If he doesn’t then just know he’d have some hell to deal with because I did not raise him to be that way.” Carole says, pulling away and grinning when she notices the small smile creeping onto your face. You knew she was right, that relationships required communication and if you just spoke to Bradley, you were sure everything would be okay. Before you could say another word, you hear the front door unlock and Maverick announce his return with Goose and Bradley entering behind.

“Honey, what are you doing here?” Goose says the moment he sees Carole in the living room, immediately sweeping her up into his arms and pressing a delicate kiss upon her lips.

“Just wanted to keep y/n company while you men were gone.” Carole says, grinning up at her husband with loving eyes. Bradley then squeezes past his parents and sits alongside you, pulling you into a quick kiss.

“Hey, don’t push your luck, Bradshaw.” Maverick scolds as you and Bradley pull away from the kiss, smiling softly at each other.

“Dad.” You mutter, glancing over at Maverick who holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“Let’s go sit in the garden, the weather’s beautiful.” Bradley says, tugging you to your feet and leading you to the back door to head out into the garden as the adults watch with soft smiles. The second the two of you are out of sight, Carole turns to Maverick.

“Mav, we need to talk. Alone.”

“Wha- don’t you want to include me in this conversation too, honey?” Goose splutters, looking between Maverick and his wife.

“Nick, honey, I love you, but this is a Maverick thing. Besides, I know he’ll tell you the second the two of you are left alone.” Carole says, looking up at her husband and patting his cheek lovingly as he pouts lightly. Carole then grabs Maverick’s wrist, tugging him into the privacy of the kitchen and turning to face him the moment she hears Goose turning on the tv to occupy himself.

“What did you need to talk about, Carole?” Maverick says, leaning back against the kitchen counter with folded arms.

“You need to speak to your daughter.” Carole says bluntly looking at Maverick who blinks in shock.

“I literally spoke to her a minute ago.” Maverick starts, confused as to where Carole was going with this conversation.

“No. Your daughter is growing up Pete. And growing up means that when she gets into a serious relationship, she’s going to take that big step when she’s ready.” Carole says, watching as Maverick’s eyes narrow in confusion before widening in realisation.

“You don’t mean…” Maverick starts, knowing where Carole was going but hoping he was wrong.

“Sex? Yes, I do mean that.” Carole says as Maverick glances out the kitchen window, seeing you and Bradley curled up together in the hammock.

“I- are you- how did you find out?” Maverick manages to force out, looking back at Carole who bites back an amused grin at Maverick being rendered almost speechless for the first time in his life.

“I spoke to her, woman to woman. I gave her a little advice, but her dad needs to give her the rest.” Carole says, watching as Maverick’s shoulders slacken.

“You’ve given her some advice, why can’t you give her the rest? I’m not a woman.” Maverick says, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“Pete, I may be a woman but you’re her father. You’re the only parent she has, and she needs her dad to talk to her about this whether you like it or not. She needs you to teach her how to be safe when it comes to sex. I know it's an awkward conversation, believe me, I know. How do you think Goose fared when we gave the talk to Bradley? He couldn’t get a full sentence out, I think he stopped functioning altogether. I know it’s tough when you realise your kid is growing up, but they still need our love and support regardless of their growing independence. Just talk to her Mav.” Carole says, resting a hand on Maverick’s upper arm as she gives him a soft smile. Maverick sighs lightly, but nods his head regardless, looking down at the tiled kitchen floor.

“I’ll talk to her.” Maverick says as he shifts his gaze to look back up at Carole who pats his arm.

“Good. Now, let’s get back to Goose, he might go insane if he’s alone any longer.” Carole laughs lightly, turning around and opening the kitchen door and heading into the living room while Maverick remains rooted in place for a moment, thinking over how to approach the conversation with you, re-joining Carole, and Goose once he had collected his thoughts.

That evening, after the Bradshaw’s had headed home for the night, Maverick was sitting alongside you on the sofa as you watched the tv. Carole’s words echoed around Maverick’s head as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Without warning, Maverick grabbed the remote and muted the tv, ignoring your protests.

“y/n, we need to talk.” Maverick starts, and you immediately have a feeling that you know where this is going.

“Did you speak to Carole?” You ask, fiddling with your fingers as you look down at your hands.

“I’d say she cornered me into the kitchen and spoke to me. But yes, we spoke.” Maverick says after letting out a weak chuckle.

“Dad, I-”

“Squirt, you’re going to need to let me talk, okay?” Maverick politely interrupts, shuffling around to face you properly.

“Carole told me that you reckon that you and Bradley are nearing that next step in your relationship. I need to make sure you know how to be safe when you do make that step. You need to know you have the right to say no if you don’t want to have sex. Don’t let yourself feel pressured into saying yes if you don’t want to. As long as you’re safe and know you have the right to say ‘no’, you’ll be fine. I just want you to be safe.” Maverick says, making you look up at him before he offers you a soft smile before he reaches out, wraps an arm around your shoulders and tugs you into his side.

“Bradley won’t force me to do anything, will he?” You ask, looking up at your dad who softens.

“No, sweetheart. As much as I like to pretend that he annoys me because he’s dating you, I know he’s so in love with you and Goose and Carole raised him to be nothing but respectful. It’s just important that you know that you can say no if you don’t want to have sex.” Maverick assures, rubbing a hand up and down your back before pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you nod against his side.

“I really love Bradley. I’m scared I’m not good enough for him because I don’t have as much relationship experience as him.” You admit quietly, curling further into your dad’s arms like you were little again.

“Oh, y/n/n. Like I said, Bradley is hopelessly in love with you. He’s as in love with you as Goose is in love with Carole. You have nothing to worry about.” Maverick reassures, squeezing you lightly.

“Carole said a similar thing.” You say as you laugh lightly to yourself as you remember Carole’s words from earlier. Maverick didn’t reply, opting to stay silent and relish the feeling of you curled in his arms. He knew you were growing more independent by the day, and that you would reach a point where you wouldn’t want to find solace in your father’s arms anymore, so he relished any moment he got with you.

“I love you, dad.” You mumble, smiling to yourself when you feel your dad press another kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you too, y/n.” Maverick whispers as you return your attention to the muted television, planning on how to approach Bradley with the conversation.

The time for you to speak to Bradley came a couple of days later, Maverick and Goose were at Top Gun, teaching, and Carole was out visiting some friends, so you had gone around to Bradley’s house. The two of you were upstairs in his room and sat on his bed as you kissed each other passionately. As you pulled away, resting your foreheads against each other, Bradley’s hand brushed against your thigh as he moved to set it on your hip. You tensed up at the contact and Bradley noticed, immediately pulling away and looking at you worriedly.

“Are you okay?” Bradley asked, his eyes searching yours as you silently scold yourself for flinching at Bradley’s touch. You’d never flinched at his touch before, but you knew why you had done so. It was time to have the conversation you were most fearing.

“Bradley, I feel like we’re getting close to that step in our relationship where we… you know… have sex and I’m going to be honest; I’m terrified I’m not going to be good enough for you. You’ve been in relationships before, and I don’t know how well I measure up to old girlfriends you had.” You ramble, opening your mouth to speak more but being stopped by Bradley gently resting a finger on your lips to silence you.

“Honey, let me talk for a moment, okay? It’s okay if you don’t have much relationship experience, we all start somewhere. I don’t know everything about relationships. I love you, and there’s no rush about anything. We don’t have to have sex or anything unless we’re both ready. There’s no rush for anything. Yes, we’re getting a bit more intimate but that doesn’t mean we have to be leaping into anything if we’re not ready. We can take it slow, that’s more than okay.” Bradley says, his gentle smile never leaving his face as he speaks, his finger moving from your lip so he can cup your face gently, his smile widening as you leaned into his touch.

“I love you too Bradley. Sorry for blurting all that out, I’ve just been panicking for a couple of days.” You apologise, attempting to bury your face in his palm. Bradley carefully removes his hand so he can see you properly.

“There’s my beautiful girl. It’s okay. I’m glad we talked about this. My parents always tell me that communication is important. I also want to be sure you know you can always come to me to talk if you need to.” Bradley says softly, leaning in and pressing his forehead to yours as a smile breaks out across your face.

“And you can always talk to me if you need.” You say, quickly leaning closer to press a quick kiss to Bradley’s lips. Just as you pull away, Bradley grabs your waist and pulls you back in, kissing you again as you bite back a giggle at your boyfriend’s sudden movement.

“Is this okay?” Bradley asks as he pulls away, his eyes flicking down to his hands before looking back up at you.

“More than okay.” You confirm, kissing him once more until the need for air becomes too much.

“As much as I’d love to keep kissing you. I had a date idea. There’s that new mini-golf place that has just opened along the beach. I was thinking we could go there and test it out, a bit of fun and competition.” Bradley says after pulling away and a cheeky smile crosses his face.

“I hope you’re ready to lose Bradshaw.” You say, a smirk covering your face.

“In your dreams, Mitchell.”

[ellecdc]

While I don't like to spend time feeding into negativity on my page, I received a rude/aggressive comment which, though it had been sent to me anonymously, I have reason to suspect who it might have been from; so while I'm not going to broadcast it, it prompted something that I would like to remind anyone who might need it [which is truly maybe only 0.02% of you]

I have been on this app for 4 months; I have gotten hundreds [if not thousands] of asks sent to me during that time and I have always made a solid effort to respond to anyone and everyone who has taken time out of their day to reach out to me or even leave comments on my fics because it truly means the world to me

Over the past 4 months and throughout the hundred [or thousands] of asks and just as many comments and messages, I have only ever received 2 negative/rude/insulting asks - both were sent anonymously, one I had responded to and one I have blocked

And while this blog has grown bigger than I have ever imagined possible for myself and I now receive the most number of asks and requests than I ever had before, I continue to try to stay active, diligent in my responses, and enthusiastic in my chats and conversations with you all

I will admit that I have many unanswered asks in my inbox right now from a large number of my mutuals, listed anons, and many more requests that I have been saving for when the inspiration hits - I cannot respond to everyone and everything all of the time and for the most part, people have been very understanding about that

Sometimes I save chats for later when I have the headspace for it, sometimes I'll answer on the whim, and sometimes I save simple chats that I actually think would make for a good fic idea!

But it's important to note that I don't owe anyone the explanation I just gave to you all

The people that you interact with on this app are just that - people

People who have good days and bad days, people who have jobs and lives and loved ones who take precedence, and people who don't actually owe you anything

This is true whether you're a mutual, whether you're a dutiful fan, whether you're a listed anon, or otherwise - blogs don't owe you anything

They don't owe you a response, they don't owe you their time or energy, and they don't owe you their 110% every time you interact with them

I give my best to every single person I have spoken to on here, and some days my best is better than other days. Sometimes I get so excited when I'm out with friends or at work when I notice an ask from someone - mutual, anon, or otherwise - that I reply immediately because I just cannot wait to chat. This means I'm not always sitting down at my computer and able to give every single response the same amount of time or effort because I am a) busy, b) perhaps a little distracted and c) human

But I don't owe anyone that explanation either

This blog has always felt like a super niche book club filled with likeminded people who loved the same things I do, loved the same characters that I do, and who enjoyed chatting about it. It has also felt like a fun and wholesome community that I am happy to be apart of

And while I like to think that my blog is a safe space for everyone and anyone who might want to visit it; it's a safe space for me first

This blog is my space and my safe haven; you are welcome to it - but that welcome is a privilege, not a right - and I am not obligated to cater it to you

Like I said, I have only ever received two rude asks, but even though 99.98% of my messages are positive, the negative ones feel the loudest

Please think before you send criticizing asks to any blog; the 'saddest' thing of all is being both cowardly and cruel to people you don't know

& again, as always, thank you all for being here with me 🫶

-L

[sgiandubh]

This is a thank you, not an ask. I guess I would be classified as a lurker in the Tumbler world since I primarily only read what others write.  But I did make a comment to you once and you responded so you made me feel comfortable enough that I could send this to you.  Shippers have unknowingly been helping me stay sane these past few years.  My husband has Alzheimer’s with Aphasia and I have been his sole caretaker for a long time.  Having this responsibility is not for the faint of heart. One day in early 2019 I stumbled across Outlander and like a lot of others, was in, hook, line and sinker and Jamie & Claire and Sam & Cait became part of my daily life.  Last week I had to place my husband in a memory care facility.  It was an agonizing decision and I prayed for a sign that this was the right move.  As stupid as this may sound, I think my prayer was answered.  On the second day he made a friend.  His name is Jamie.  Only in the Outlander world would this have any meaning, but we've now got a sweet Jamie in our lives.  You may officially call me crazy.  Thank you to you and all the other shippers for all the smiles and happiness you've brought to me and many others. It kept me going.

Dear @jovialchaoslover,

By all means, do not thank me, even if I felt incredibly moved and honored by your submission, on behalf of the entire OL Shipper community. In fact, I should thank you, because for all those name calling and finger pointing Anons, you get to read something as genuine, moving and personal. These moments are rare and precious (and should remain so). They make you feel useful, in a very unexpected way.

You are one of those daily life unsung heroes and I want you to know that you are probably way stronger than you would ever think. I can only imagine the kind of experience you are now going through, even if I am (like many daughters, all around the world) only too aware of the cruelty with which old age sometimes disfigures beloved family members. I have only a remote idea of my own grandmother's quick descent into dementia and death, but I do have a very direct experience of the grueling toll it took on our family. Especially on my own mother, who let everything go and cared for her until the very last moment.

With the proper care solution in place, you will find yourself with a lot of time on your hands. A spare time you perhaps forgot existed. Please (I urge you) use it wisely and never forget this is all about you. You more than deserve it and the moment is now. I may know a thing or two about emptiness and void. They are incredibly enticing and treacherous. Please try and do something for you every single day. It does not matter if it is important or completely futile: it is about YOU and changing the angle will change everything. Remember the wonderful woman I am sure you are and try to reconnect with her. I can promise you she is not very far and I bet she misses you, too.

Last but not least, let me tell you that I will never call you crazy for having shared that Jamie story with us. I think it was very brave of you and I can confidently tell you it even has a name. What you experienced is called synchronicity and it is part of the tiny and personal magic of daily life. People as serious as Carl Gustav Jung dedicated their life to try and make some sense of this. And it all started with one of his patients (he was a shrink) describing a very vivid, recurrent dream of hers, that featured a scarab beetle. At the very same time, they both saw a scarab beetle (uncharacteristically) tapping on the window. The woman was not instantly cured (psychoanalysis does not exactly work like this), but it helped both of them overcome a very frustrating communication barrier.

That Jamie story is a real synchronicity, too, because it is meaningful for you and nobody else. It happened for a reason you are the only one to understand, in time. I could talk about it for hours and link it (as Jung did) with my beloved I Ching or with a couple of dead(ly) serious German philosophers, for some extra gravitas. But I am not going to over-complicate things. You got this. You are strong and brave and believe it or not, I am sure you are also loved by many.

I also think Caitriona Mary Balfe and Sam Roland Heughan should read your ask, finally understand their magic brought solace to many, many people around the world and get their damn act together for Season 8. But that is a different story altogether.

For the rest, if you want, we will be here for you. Me and probably other kind people on this side of the fence. Anytime you want, here or in DM. It may not be much, but it is something.

PS: that may or may not have brought a #silly tear, you know.

[nix-writes-mcyt]

Yup, I'm obsessed.

Hello! It's the anon that sent 3 paragraphs in one single... I'm not really sure what to call it because it wasn't exactly a request. I'm glad I was able to brighten your evening, and honestly I was a bit worried you'd think I was being a bit over the top (social anxiety, my number one enemy). Surprise, though! I actually have a request this time! I loved your yan!grian drabble and one-shots so much I couldn't wait to finish the EVO smp before sending in a request of my own.

If you could, do you think you could write a yan!grian x reader one-shot. I was daydreaming a bit and it wandered off to a plot where basically, the reader acted as almost a lost puppy with grian. Following him everywhere, showing a clear fondess towards him with their loyalty, and just constantly being by his side. As time goes on, he's so used to their company that when they aren't near him, it becomes almost maddening. It's almost an obsessive need to have them around him, to protect them, to keep them with him.

It's a very rough idea, but it's been on my mind for a while, and maybe you could play with it a bit more in your own way (if you'd like to that is!). And my goodness, this one was just as long, or maybe even longer then the other message(?) I sent to your inbox. I am once again apologizing for that fact.

It's okay anon, I had a lot of fun with this and I hope you enjoy it. I really hope it's the kind of thing you were looking for! P.s this is my first S10 fic!!

How Could You Say No?

Oneshot Contains: Low key yandere, Fluff (unhealthy), manipulation

Warning: This is not healthy behaviour! I write for entertainment but please be aware than in real life this type of behaviour from both parties is not healthy nor acceptable. If you find yourself in a situation like this please let someone know and stay safe! ----------------------

With a new season came new opportunities. It had been an interesting start, that was for sure.

This time around many people had decided to take it slow and enjoy the new world, which of course you decided to do as well. You'd been invited on an adventure to find a home, an adventure where your crush was going too. How could you say no?

So to the mountain you'd gone, messing around. But soon enough people began to claim land. You claimed some right next to Grian.

You'd had a crush on him for some time, but never had the chance to get to know him, this season you wanted to change that.

Then the fishing began. You liked fishing, but it was much more enjoyable being around Grian. Plus, that change did happen, the two of you got to know each other well, talking all the while catching fish and treasure. You fished for hours upon hours, day after day. Grian even built a little fishing hut for the two of you to have some shelter, which was incredibly sweet of him.

It hadn't taken much longer for Grian to build a house either, yours popped up about a week after than. All the while the two of you still spent time together. Grian would invite you everywhere, mining, fishing, of course you'd go.

You'd been surprised when he asked you to be his, but happy. So very happy. The next day he gifted you a fully enchanted pickaxe, which of course you couldn't refuse. It was a gift after all.

When shops started popping up the two of you would go together, spending diamonds Grian insisted you have a share of. He helped you gather resources, although soon enough there was no need for them. Grian asked you to base with him, how could you say no?

The two of you spent even more time together, chopping down trees, mining through stone. Anything and everything you did, you did together. You have done ever since the server began.

Which brings us to today, you and Grian, sitting by the sea. Today there is no fishing, no need to fish, but Grian had asked you to come with him to sit by the ocean. So you did.

Your thoughts were left to wander, and suddenly you were left thinking of the empty wall in the kitchen and how you had the perfect painting at your house. Not that you had lived there, or even visited, in some time.

"G, I've figured out a solution to our empty wall problem." You say, breaking the silence. "Oh yeah?" "Yes, I know the perfect painting. I'll have to go get it though."

"Go get it? Now?" He asks. "I can, probably should really. You know what I'm like for remembering this kind of thing." You laugh sheepishly.

"But we're enjoying the ocean, like we used to. Can we go another time?" "I can go myself, it's only at my old house." You say.

Suddenly Grian's eyes are on you, you can feel them almost burning a hole in the side of your skull. "You can't go there alone, it could be dangerous." You turn to look at him, shrugging. "It can't be that dangerous, besides, I can handle myself." His eyes darken.

"I don't want you to get hurt, you know that. What would I do if you got hurt and I wasn't there to help?" You didn't think about that. "I, well, you can come with me then. I want to get this painting, it'll be perfect."

Grian sighs, taking your hand in his. "Okay, we'll go get it. I can't let you go alone." You smile at his words. He stands, helping you up.

The walk to the house is longer than you remember, and sure enough it's in a bit of a state. Nature has very much taken over, you didn't think it was that long since you'd left.

When Grian had asked you to move in it was done very quickly, most of your furniture wasn't needed, so it was either given to other hermits or left in the house for you to collect at a later date. Looking around inside you don't think you'll be back for most of the things you left.

The floorboards squeak under your weight and Grian's. Moss covers much of the floor, vines crawl along your walls. You move carefully towards the office, not wanting to hurt yourself. You're glad Grian came.

As you reach for the door handle Grian pulls you away, startling you. "Let me, just in case. I don't know what I'd do if something bad happened." You stare at him for a second, but nod "okay." It's not exactly like you can say no. He only wants to protect you.

Grian pulls open the door with ease, scraping at the moss on the floor as the wood moves. The office window is clearly broken, but the rest of the room looks okay. Grian steps in, holding your hand and pulling you gently along.

You spot the painting, propped up in the corner of the room. Many of the colours have faded from time in the sun, plus it seems to be cracked and peeling. You feel so disappointed seeing the state it's in now, knowing how beautiful it once was.

The piece was so unique, and now it mirrors its surroundings. You can't bring yourself to even pick it up, it's inseparable from this house now, a worn down broken place, no longer a home.

Noticing your increasing upset Grian gently guides you out of the house. You can't bring yourself to say no. He does more than that, holding your hand tightly and taking you all the way home.

The walk is silent, full of sorrow. You can't even bare to look back.

Grian doesn't take you into the house, he takes you up to the swing in the garden. He'd built it for you, a place where the two of you could relax, read, look out at the ocean from a distance. Compared to your old home this one is beautiful, perfectly crafted, delicately detailed. This is your home now. You try remind yourself of that, but still feel sad.

After some time in silence Grian speaks up. "I had something I wanted to ask you earlier, when we were on the beach. It's why I didn't want to leave, but you know I'd do anything for you." You nod slightly, knowing his words are true. His home changed for you, he changed for you. He looks after you and gets you gifts and allows you to be creative. He protects you from harm, takes care of you when you're sick, takes you on days out and adventures.

You turn your attention to him as he begins to speak again. "You're very special to me, truly you are. I don't want to spend a day of my life without you, ever. You mean too much to me. You've become a part of my home, my comfort, I can't lose you. I need you to be by my side, forever." You see the box, you see the ring. A beautiful piece, you wonder if he crafted it himself.

You look at the ring, at him. You glance at your surroundings, what a beautiful life he has created for you here. A life you don't have anywhere else with anyone else. "Marry me?" How could you say no?

[bilbao-song]

(all credit for the original idea [and a significant portion of this text] goes to @quiet-beatle​!)

ho ho ho, classic rock fans! Christmas is coming and so is The Secret Rocker Santa project! if you are looking for an opportunity to make new friends who love classic rock, or just want to make someone happy, this is your chance!

** if you don’t want to see posts about this anymore: filter the tags #secret rocker santa and/or #srs23 — click here for an explanation of how to filter tags **

What is Secret Rocker Santa?

Secret Rocker Santa is a tumblr-wide “match-maker” in which you will anonymously send asks to (and hopefully befriend!) a tumblr user who is assigned to you. you will also be assigned to someone else, who will send anonymous asks to you. the event will run from december 1st through december 25th. while this might seem complicated, it’s actually quite simple, and you will only need to answer a minimum of two questions to sign up.

How it works:

you must read these instructions!

the deadline to sign up is november 28th. there are two ways that you can sign up: the first option is to sign up via google forms. the second option is to send me a submission (or an ask) with your completed questionnaire (found here). while the first two questions are required, you can otherwise provide as much or as little information as you want.

please reblog this post! (this isn’t a strict requirement, but it would be greatly appreciated and helps to ensure that enough people will participate!)

your ask box must be open to anyone! this means that anon asks will have to be enabled. if you want, you can wait until the first day of the project (december 1st) to change this setting, but please make sure you remember!

your blog doesn’t have to be classic rock-related, you just need to be a fan. (we will also be using a very broad definition of “classic rock,” so nearly any music from 1950s-1990s counts.)

(those are the main things you need to know, but more details + some helpful tips are below the cut!!)

shortly after signing up you will be assigned a number — you probably won't need it for anything, but it's a backup way for me to keep track of who is who in case we run into any problems :)

during the last days of november, i will be assigning people to their Secret Rocker Santas. you will receive a message from me telling you who you have been assigned to, either in the form of an ask or direct message.

you will start messaging the person assigned to you ANONYMOUSLY on the 1st of december and continue until Christmas (december 25th), which is when you will reveal your identity and (hopefully) have made a new friend!

you can send your partner whatever you want (as long as you do not reveal your identity). your job is to make your partner feel happier! (some ideas: send lyrics, pictures, or facts; play games, chat, and of course do things that are not only associated with classic rock).

be careful - make sure you are messaging your assigned partner anonymously.

please tag messages that you receive from your secret santa and any other related posts as #SRS23, so your santa will be able to find your answers more easily.

EXTRA REMINDERS:

some people might get more than one santa or will be assigned to more than one person, depending on how many people participate and how many suitable matches i have for certain people. if you are certain you will not be able to be a secret santa for two people, please mention this when you submit your form (you can also let me know if you would prefer to be a santa for two or more people! anyone who volunteers for this will get first pick if the need arises)

if you’re not committed to sending asks to your partner and/or responding to your santa at least a few (2-3) times a week, please do not sign up.

while the primary focus of this project is classic rock, any additional interests you list may be used as a secondary way of helping to find a good match for you. with that in mind, don’t hesitate to list any interests and hobbies you might have, whether they relate to classic rock or not! this will especially come in handy if there are many applicants who like a particular band, or if i am having trouble finding a match for you based on your favorite bands.

if your santa has not contacted you in over a week, message me and i will gently remind them or find you another one.

as a general rule, be nice! anyone who is rude to the another participant will be removed from the project.

make sure to answer all of your santa’s messages! you don’t have to answer right away, but don’t ignore them.

please let me know if you experience any problems at all (for example, if i have made a mistake, or you are having problems with either your own santa or the person you are assigned to)

if you are not already following your partner’s blog, you probably shouldn’t do it right away, because they might guess that you are their santa.

it’s useful to have an easy-to-find “about me” page or pinned post so that your santa will have a better chance of finding something to talk to you about!

please try to keep a note of who you’ve been assigned to, as well as your assigned number!

IF YOU CHANGE YOUR URL AT ANY TIME DURING THE PROJECT PLEASE LET ME KNOW. if you don’t let me know about your new URL (or otherwise make it clear that you have moved), i will not be able to assign matches for you.

please be patient! i will assign matches and answer questions as quickly as possible, but please keep in mind that i have other responsibilities too!

you don’t need to be following me, but i will be sharing updates here, so it would be a good idea to at least keep an eye on that page/tag.

please don’t hesitate to participate! this is supposed to be a fun, lighthearted, seasonal activity, and if you do encounter any issues, i will help you :)

ALL RELEVANT LINKS:

google forms sign-up

copy the questionnaire here (to sign up if you don't wish to use google forms)

paste questionnaire, fill out, and submit here

FAQ page

all future updates will be posted in this tag!

lastly, if you have any questions or want to ask for advice, do not hesitate to message me or send an ask!

please spread the word if possible! :)

[doumadono]

Step into the sin bin! Sinful Sunday is a unique writing extravaganza on this blog, where I explore your every idea and curiosity about your beloved characters. Got a headcanon burning to be shared? Craving to explore a particular kink? Look no further, you're in the right spot! Send me an ask, and in return, you'll receive either a little blurb or set of headcanons! Share your thoughts anytime you fancy. Saturday morning is when the floodgates open, and the posts will come pouring in! 😉🔥

GENERAL RULES

for Sinful Sunday participation, kindly ensure you're 18 or older. Your safety matters, and I'll tag my content accordingly. Please respect this request and do your part

feel free to send your asks, thoughts, imaginations, or requests either anon or not

you're also welcome to share your own headcanons or imagines for the character of your choice! I'm eager to engage in conversations about them with you 😊

Sinful Sunday will last all through Sunday and will end Sunday night at midnight, 23:59 CET

any additional Sinful Sunday requests I receive afterward will be either reserved for the next Sunday or considered for a future request, depending on my current mood and availability

Sinful Sunday-specific tag for all asks, blurbs, and headcanons will be: #doumadonos sinful sunday 🔥

Sinful Sunday kicks off on the upcoming Sunday, September 10th!

SINFUL SUNDAY UPDATE AS OF 3/12/23

Firstly, on the Sundays of December 24th and 31st, I won't be posting anything for Sinful Sunday. Given that it's the Christmas season and I'll be with my family, I've decided that the last Sinful Sunday of the year 2023 will be on Sunday, the 17th.

Due to the high volume of requests every Sunday, it's become physically challenging to complete all of them in a single day. To address this, I'm implementing a new rule – I'll be posting approximately 5 pieces for every Sinful Sunday. Any requests remaining in my inbox will be automatically scheduled for the following weekend.

I'll be adjusting the priority for Sinful Sunday requests, giving top priority to those that come in off-anon. While anonymous questions are still welcomed, I'll be initially focusing on non-anonymous requests.

I'm aware many of you enjoy the Hantengu Clones, but I kindly request not to ask for similar scenarios with different clones once a scenario has already been published with one of them.

I'm open to delving into darker content, so feel free to share your more intense thoughts/thirsts with me without hesitation! 🔥

SINFUL SUNDAY UPDATE AS OF 31/12/23

In light of the recent poll results, I'm thrilled to share that Sinful Sunday is set to unfold bi-monthly, taking place every two weeks, starting January 14th, 2024

Any requests submitted from now on will be posted on the specified day (in the event of a substantial number of requests, they will be posted based on the order of reception in my inbox. Just a gentle reminder: I'm featuring only 4-5 pieces each Sunday!)

SINFUL SUNDAY UPDATE AS OF 15/02/24

As I'm heading to Japan on March 1st, there will be some changes to Sinful Sunday.

the upcoming Sinful Sunday by the end of February will be the last one before my Japan trip. Sinful Sunday will resume on April 27th, and I'll remind you about it in a post

SINFUL SUNDAY UPDATE AS OF 23/04/24 - TOTAL CHANGE IN FORMAT

due to the large number of 5k celebration requests, Sinful Sunday will be postponed to May 11th

I've decided to change things up for this recurring event. Since Sinful Sunday happens every two weeks, in the first week - I'll collect your requests. Then, a week before the event - I'll post a poll with all the submitted requests, so you can vote for your favourites. I think this will be the healthiest approach, especially since the last few Sinful Sundays have been overwhelming due to the influx of requests in a single day

the two works with the most votes will be posted every Sinful Sunday

all unused requests will either be deleted or saved for separate stories (only if I really like specific requests)

repeated or similar requests to stories I've already posted will be deleted

you can submit requests for Sunful Sunday starting now, and the first poll will be posted on May 4th

fandoms I write for: My Hero Academia, Demon Slayer, Honkai Star Rail, Genshin Impact, Jujutsu Kaisen, Wind Breaker, Bucchigiri!?, Obey Me, Haikyuu

[gallaghersgal]

hello everyone! tysm for 1,500 followers, this means so much to me as someone who took almost a YEAR off of writing. the support i get and the friends i've made here mean so much to me! so LET'S CELEBTATE 🎉🎉

celebration masterlist here. looking for my main masterlist? it’s linked up top under "writer" <3

p.s. special shoutouts to my beloved moots at the bottom <3

❀ GENERAL RULES & INFO ❀

you can send in as many requests as you’d like!

if you don’t want spam, block/filter #maggie's 1.5k

it’s not required to be be following @gallaghersgal but it would be appreciated. if this is your first time interacting with my blog, come check me out!

also not required but if you like my content, go check out @carmenberzattosgf @thecapricunt1616 @mouseymilkovich @carmybrainworms and @notsonian they're great writers and even better friends! <33

this blog is NSFW, 18+ only, and so is this celebration! minors will be notified of this, then blocked if they don't unfollow. i'm not mean, i'm just not comfy with you reading my works underage.

anon is on, by sending an anon ask you are telling me you are 18+

my inbox is open now, so feel free to go send in asks!! celebration requests close Friday, August 23rd at midnight!

❀ REQUESTS ❀

send me in a character + prompt for a blurb! i am accepting prompts from this au list, this trope list, this smut list, or this other smut list.

please include the number or prompt, and the list it's from since there's more than one!

for this celebration i will write for any character from shameless, the bear, marvel cinematic universe, daredevil, all star wars trilogies, the mandalorian, and the clone wars. i will also write any of oscar isaac, pedro pascal, or barry keoghan's characters, or any formula one driver.

i will also write sydcarmy 😚🧚🏻‍♀️

i will do my best to write ANY character from the fandoms listed above, i know i have a wide range of followers! however, i am more likely to lean towards requests for the characters listed here.

please limit your request to one to two prompts, or one au/trope + one prompt. i will have a lot to write, so this will help me get your req done quicker!

requests missing a prompt or character will be deleted. general requests not w/o a celebration prompt will be saved for afterwards.

❀ GAMES ❀

send a 💒 + a self description for me to ship you with someone from any of the media listed here. please include the fandom/media you want a ship from, as well as preference for male/female character or of you have no preference.

send a 💿 for a 5 song playlist based off your blog! or add a character from the listed medias for a playlist based on them.

send a 💌 to shoutout a writer, or to self promo your own fic! i will read & reblog, or give my thoughts on their writings <33

send a 💘 + three characters or people for me to play fuck, marry, kill with

send a 🌸 and ask me any question you have about a blurb or fic of mine!

that's all! enjoy the celebration!! sappy shoutouts to my fav pookies below <33

@tinyphantomsalad THE first mutual i made on here that i'm still talking to. the man i run my filthiest porn by, and he doesn't bat an eye. the love and respect for you i have is insane. what are we at now? four years? feels like four hundred. i love u endlessly.

@thelazyhero-ttums the one that's in my corner 24/7. only irl i have on this god forsaken site, bc you're just so so special. how do you think 7th grade maggie with her hand written leo and calypso fanfic feels about 1.5k? thank you for being with me for all of it.

@devils-dares thank you for sticking by my side even with my change in eras!! and for vibe checking so many fics you know nothing about <33 ur a real one pooks

@carmenberzattosgf im thankful all the time that u messaged me first bc how else would i have someone to get up to dm shenanigans and share my ideas with?

@thecapricunt1616 my sweetest capri, i'm so happy we're friends, i love reading your messages and i LOOVEEE your moodboards my queen

@mouseymilkovich ur a real one cause who else is gonna send me 1926284 ethan cutkosky edits? i love hearing all your plot bunnies for speechless, i can't wait to see where you take the series!

@carmybrainworms i hope you're enjoying your time in the ocean, and i'm so glad i brought u over to the dark side with my lip fics. ur the sweetest silliest ever and ilysm

@l4long-winded & @emotionoitme we haven't talked much yet, but i'm so excited to share more ideas with each other! you're both amazing writers who i'm so glad to call my friends

@notsonian u are genuinely the sweetest, i love talking to you about our ideas (esp the mkverse!) and i love love looovveee your fics! keep up the good work <33

[spectrerie]

Ok I have no idea if your requests are on or not because I literally never request but I love your writing so here I am! Anyways I can’t stop thinking about ghost x hacker reader who works with 141 and they have to go with the guys on a mission to like hack through security systems or something (idk) but ghost absolutely refuses to let them go like he is so against it. And maybe while they’re on the mission the reader gets hurt or something idrk I haven’t thought that far ahead but I thought you would do so good with this idea!!! Thank you!!

Hello!!!!!!! This request is so good! I got a bit carried away and wrote 3.5k words on it lmaoo, but I'm happy with it now, so I'll post it as an answer to this ask

If you die, I swear I'll kill you.

Simon Ghost Riley x gn!reader

Please enjoy this anon, and anyone else who reads it.

TW: injury, slight workplace bullying, enemies(?) to friends

“With all due respect, sir, no. I don’t need to babysit some egg-head while I’m in the field.” Ghost sat with his arms crossed, knees apart, filling his chair and the room with his presence. 

You glanced at Price, you’d both expected this reaction, but it still hurt to hear him say it so easily.  For nearly two years you’d put your best foot forward. Did everything to get him to like you until it became clear that he never would. You were ready to settle for respect, for a crumb of acknowledgement. Though soon that too was clearly out of your reach. Now you were just happy to keep out of his way. You weren’t part of the 141, no matter how much information you’d stolen for them, no matter how much data you mined for them, no matter how many sleepless nights you’d given them. You weren’t a soldier. Ghost made sure to remind you of that at every chance he got. 

At every debrief he treated you like you were just a piece of the furniture. He ignored you with ease, asking questions to everyone but you. Making plans and strategising with everyone’s strengths in mind but yours. Any information he needed about what you could do he’d obtained through Captain Price. Often with you in the same room, going over your head like you were some machinery he’d be crazy to speak to. 

You typed and looked through files. You were a glorified intern as far as he was concerned. 

“Well Lieutenant, it’s not up to you, is it? Owl is going with you, and that’s final.” 

A part of you cringed at the nickname despite the joy it normally filled you with. You’d felt honoured when Soap had coined it. The night owl of the 141, playing with mice and bringing veritable feasts of information back to the nest. But hearing it used in front of Ghost felt wrong. You could feel his eyes roll without even looking at him. 

You didn’t need a call sign. 

You didn’t need to be closer to the 141.  

You didn’t even need a name, because they didn’t need you. 

“Yes, sir.” He said as he stood to attention, mumbling his acknowledgement to the Captain            as he prepared for his dismissal. 

“Final brief at 0400. Wheels up at 0500, understood?” Price barked out at the two of you. You both gave your acknowledgement and he nodded, satisfied for now. 

“Alright, dismissed.” 

Ghost made a quick exit, as though being in your presence was more than enough to make him ill. You sighed and began to move, but a hand at your shoulder stopped you. 

“Owl, don’t let him get to you. You’re a part of this team, and you’re needed on this mission. I wouldn’t send you out if I didn’t believe you needed to be there.” 

You nodded, dropping you head to pull back the tears that threatened to fall. 

“Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.” 

“I know you won’t. Your intel has always been good. We don’t have the time to wait for the boys to bring the drives back, if they even knew what to look for, time isn’t on our side.” 

You knew that better than anyone. If only Lieutenant Riley would admit that you weren’t an incompetent civilian, maybe things would go along quicker. 

 — — — 

“Alright boys, this one should be simple, yeah? We go in, subdue any hostiles, grab the tech and get the fuck out. I don’t want any mistakes, I don’t want any problems,” Ghost’s eyes stopped at you as he said the last word, “I don’t want any bad news, understood?” He said as his voice boomed over the sound of the plane's engine. 

“Yes sir!” The group called out as one. This would be easy, as he said. You didn’t have to do too much, just follow the group and live long enough to break through the encrypted drives. From their you could relay the information back to Price and Laswell. Simple. 

Your eyes drew closed as you took in a breath, trying to centre yourself. Get in, get the drives, get out. Job done. You repeated your mantra until you fell into a fitful sleep.

You woke with a start as your name was barked out. 

Lieutenant Riley stood over you, arms crossed. An obvious scowl beneath his mask. 

“Gotten enough beauty sleep, sunshine?” 

The plane was empty, your teammates stood out on the makeshift runway, watching your change out of earshot. The late evening sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows into the plane.

“I’m sorry sir, I just wanted to be rested for the mission.” 

“Well, aren’t you considerate, thank you so much, Pigeon.” His voice dripped with a saccharine sarcasm that cut you to your core. You hate that he’d made a mockery of the callsign you were so fond of. You were sure other people had slept on the flight over. Why was he singling you out so cruelly? 

“Are you still on your bloody arse?” He barked out, loud enough too draw the attention of your teammates. “Sorry, sir!” you replied as you jumped up. Your body was yanked back with a start, bucking against the fastening that had kept you in your seat. Your head knocked back against the body of the plane, tilting your helmet over your eyes. 

“Oh fucking hell, Pigeon. If you get yourself killed on this bloody mission, I’ll murder you.” His hand made quick work of your seatbelt, snatching it off you in one sharp motion, sending you lurching forward.

If only you’d had the confidence to tell him off. 

If only you had the kind of easy relationship with him that he had with everyone else, one that transcended rank enough to quip back at him. 

If only he didn’t hate you. 

If only he could see you. Not just look at you scornfully, but see you. See your efforts, see your strength. 

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” You said with your eyes focused on the floor. Your gaze could have cut two pinholes in the undercarriage of the plane. You grabbed your gear and rushed down the gangway, thankful Ghost hadn’t pointed out all the things he found wrong with your apology. With your posture, with your face, with your breathing, with your existence. 

“Alright. It’s 30 klicks to their base, but we’ll have to trek the last 5k. Johnny, you get us in, Gaz and I will clear a path while you watch our six. You,” Lieutenant Riley said with derision, “don’t die and find the drives after we’ve swept the place, understood?” You nodded sharply. 

“Alright lads, this one’s easy. Any hostiles will be eliminated on sight, in and out, home in time for Eastenders.” Soap and Gaz laughed easily at Simon’s joke. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to show any crumb of happiness in front of him. Maybe he’d yank your tongue out if you so much  as chuckled and bring it home for his dog. 

As you made your way to the jeep Soap fell into step with you. 

“Ye alright?” He asked, a gentle smile playing on his face. How could you be alright? He was always so kind to you, and Kyle always treated you with respect. Even the KorTac boys said ‘hello’, or ‘thanks for the intel’ once in a while whenever you ran into them. Ghost seemed pissed that he had to breathe the same air as you. 

A short sigh escaped before you could regain your composure, “yeah, I’m okay. It’s just… I don’t want to mess up. It’s my first time really out in the field and—” and Lieutenant Riley, your best friend and our commanding officer hates my guts and doesn’t care to hide it. “And I just want to do well.” Soap nodded, though he couldn’t really understand. He’d been a soldier since he was 18. He’d proven himself time and time again even before he ever saw active duty. His abilities were undeniable. 

You, as Ghost loved to remind you and everyone around you, were a desk jockey egg-head recruited after you’d been caught ransoming credit card companies and running stings on pedophiles with your ‘internet pals’. Caught or betrayed, the thought still plagued you, though the end result had been a job offer from the British Army in lieu of prison time. Soap and Gaz thought you were a genius, some sort of cyber Robin Hood fighting the good fight from smokey internet cafes or 6 monitor supercomputers. Captain Price saw you as a clever kid with good intentions but questionable methods. 

Ghost… well Ghost made no secret of the fact he thought you were an egg-head. An energy  drink guzzling college drop-out with a lot of free time and no common sense. A basement dweller with more waifu body pillows than real life friends. A useless kid with no place in battle, regardless of the fact that your intel was what told him where to go more times than not. 

“He doesn’t hate you, he’s just… well he’s just Ghost. He’s never worked with you, I’m sure things will change after this.” You nodded, thankful for the reassurance though you didn’t really buy much of it. As you opened the jeep door and slid into one of the back seats you noticed Ghost’s eyes were trained on you through the rearview mirror. Watching for something to pick on you for, of course. 

You held his gaze as you closed the door and dropped your gear bag between your feet. ‘That’s right Lt, I can sit down without strangling myself on the seatbelt’ you longed to say to him. You settled for holding his gaze and raising your eyebrows at him. As the jeep rumbled to life you could have sworn you heard a laugh. 

— — — 

Ghost glanced at the pistol holstered on you thigh, as well as the knife sheathed at your hip. The urge to ramble about your right to protect yourself and defend your teammates bubbled up in your chest, the citric need to bite back at him almost won. Thankfully he spoke before you did. 

“You do know how to use that, right?” He whispered to you, crouched to your right, Gaz to your left. You’d gone through basic gun training and safety as well as first aid at Captain Price’s insistence once you’d begun working more and more with the 141. A fact you were sure Ghost knew. He’d never let you carry a weapon without a direct order from Price. A direct order not to snatch it on sight and send you to sit in a corner and think about how stupid you were. 

“Of course, sir,” you quipped back. Your sarcasm was cut with anxiety. This was real. You didn’t have to kill anyone, you just had to keep up and not die. But this was so real. A gun range was nothing in comparison. The slide of the gravel beneath your boots, the heat of your comrades beside you, the dull green of the night vision. This was real. 

“Ghost, do you copy? 30 seconds to detonation.” Soap’s voice was tinny through the comm on Ghost’s shoulder. 

30 seconds? 

Seconds?!

Your heart pumped a punishing beat as the reality of it all sunk deeper and deeper. 

A hand on your knee brought you back to the moment. “Look at me,” the last voice you’d ever expect to comfort you was all that filled your ears. The surprise washed away the fear for a moment as you looked into Ghost’s eyes. 

“The second you hear the blast, stay low and follow us, okay? You’ll want to jump up, don’t.”

“Okay.” 

His dark eyes stared into you as he spoke. “Keep your weapon in your hands, keep your eyes on me, keep up, and keep calm. This is the fun part.” A low chuckled from Gaz calmed you further. 

“I’ve got your six, just focus on moving with the group, okay?” Gaz whispered beside you. 

“Okay.”

All you could do was agree, any eloquence you’d had before had long since dissipated. 

A deafening boom rang out and the urge to run flooded every nerve in your body. You watched Ghost. 

Keep your eyes on me

You focused on Ghost’s broad back as you moved with him. Focused on keeping close. On surviving. 

The next minutes were a blur of gun fire and barked out commands. The muzzle flash of the weapons around you was enough to make the night vision useless and so with shaky hands and shallow breaths you pushed the goggles up as you moved through a maze of rooms with Ghost as your guide. 

A heavy hand against your chest stopped you before you had a chance to run into your Lieutenant. 

“Gaz, now.” He barked quickly as a heavy boot made contact with the door, pushing it from the frame. Garrick fired as he moved deftly into the room, sweeping the corner as Ghost fired at a figure hunched over a laptop. 

Everything was happening too quickly. You were pushed into the room, or pulled, you couldn’t know. As your body entered your mind stayed back and watched as a figure rose from a position under the desk. Before you could even see their eyes they hit the floor with a thud. 

A wave of nausea spread through you as you moved to where they’d been, pushing the bodies away from the computer as you grabbed it and began to type a series of commands into the terminal. Your hands shook as you pushed a thumb-drive into a port and watched as your code froze the deletion process. You left that to work as you pulled open desk drawers and riffled through their contents, shovelling everything in sight into your pack. 

“Hurry up!” 

You obeyed, moving quicker as you grabbed files and thick plastic drives with greedy, shaking hands. The final drawer was locked tight. You wanted to call out for a key but shame held you tongue. You pulled at it and it held firm. Ghost could have yanked it open with one hand, you were sure. His presence in the room motivated you to think like a soldier. Think like him. 

‘I’m not useless. I’m not useless. I’m not useless.’ You chanted to yourself as you reached to you side and gripped your knife. Jamming it into a gap in the drawer you pushed your whole weight onto it and heard a click. 

Yes. You weren’t useless after all. 

“Owl! Wait!” 

With unbridled euphoria you yanked the drawer open and felt your body and mind reconnect with a violent snap. Like a spark to gas you ignited with something you couldn’t recognise. Warmth spread through your middle as you glanced down into the drawer. It was empty. 

“Oh shit.”

“Soap call in a medevac, now!” 

Why was it empty? Were they all shouting because it was empty?

Your hand dug into the wooden cube, patting around until you felt something give. You pushed up into it and heard something drop. Another hard drive. 

“Owl, Owl you need to move, now.” 

A firm hand grasped you by the shoulder and you shook it off. You bent down to pick up the drive and a white hot pain seared your abdomen. You ignored it, and with a sharp wince you grabbed the final drive. 

Why were your hands shaking so much? Was it the excitement of war?

You turned to collect the laptop but it was already in Gaz’s hands. He was shoving it into your pack as Ghost grabbed the drive in your hand and tossed it to him. 

“No! No, I have to decrypt the—”

“You have to move. Now.” Ghost retorted sharply as he angled himself to block your view of Gaz. 

When had they stripped you of your pack? 

Why was Lieutenant Riley suddenly pushing you out the door you’d all just come through?

How were you able to see your group moving through the halls? Watching the retreat from an unnatural vantage point, making note of the thick trail of something syrupy behind you. 

Was that blood? Did your sloppiness get one of them injured?

— — — 

The jeep you’d left 5 kilometres away speed into view in front of the compound you’d just sacked. 

Was it moving or were you? 

Hands pushed you into it and began pulling off the kevlar and fabric of covering your torso. 

‘Is it bad?” Soap’s voice came from the front of the vehicle. 

“No, its not too bad,” Ghost said to you rather than Soap. You craned your head down to look at the wound, but a strong hand tilted your chin away. 

“I thought I told you to keep your eyes on me, Pigeon” he said lowly as you searched his face for some clue of what was happening. His derisive diminutive sounded odd now, it was laced with something tender. 

“Sorry lieutenant, I just wanted to—” you didn’t know how to finish. 

I just wanted to see for myself? 

I just wanted to be a part of the team?

“— I just wanted to impress you. I’m sorry, sir.” You mumbled as your lids grew heavy. 

The pressure on your stomach increased as Ghost spoke to you in low whispers. “Impress me? How? By falling asleep? We’ve already talked about that, soldier. I told you to keep your eyes on me. That’s an order.” 

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.” 

— — — 

Your eyes fluttered open, catching a glimpse of a white stucco ceiling. 

Shit. 

Ghost would kill you for falling asleep again. As you tried to sit up your body barked out in protest. A dull ache blanketed your left side and pulsed through you. 

A hand pushed you back down gently. Resting for a beat on your shoulder before pulling away.

“Slow down, kid. You’ll rip your stitches out.” You knew that voice. You turned your head to look at the Lieutenant. You’d already known it was him, all that surprised you was the lack of contempt in his voice. 

You couldn’t speak. You just looked around, taking in the small makeshift clinic you’d found yourself in. 

“The hospital was too far,” Ghost said, answering the question you mind was already forming, “so they set this up in a safe house nearby.” You nodded, laying back against the pillows. “Sir? What happened?” 

You heard Lieutenant Riley sigh as you stared up at the ceiling above you. Too timid to look at him as he recounted your failures on the mission. 

“The drawer was rigged. If you’d been taller, or wider, the shrapnel that hit you would have been fatal, Owl.” 

The name drew your eyes to him before you could stop yourself. 

“I’ve graduated from Pigeon?” You asked, trying to cut the tension in the small room. He laughed,  and the sound was enough to make the pain in your abdomen dissipate. 

You’d made him laugh.

You had made Ghost laugh. 

“You got injured, and didn’t give up. That was a tough thing you did, Owl. I’m proud of you.” 

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, it took everything you had not to let them fall. A warm  on hand your head was what completely undid you. Hot tears slipped out of your closed eyes as Lieutenant Riley stroked your hair more gently than you’d ever thought a man of his size was capable of. 

“You did well, don’t worry.” 

You gathered yourself, remembering the objective of the mission. “How long was I out, sir? Has the  operation window passed?” 

He pulled his hand back slowly before he spoke. “Intel over here took a look at some of the materials before sending them back with Soap and Gaz. The boys back home will decrypt as much as they can while you’re healing up here. Doc said you’d be okay to fly within 48 hours.” 

You nodded, trying to keep your disappointment in check. You wouldn’t even get a chance to do what you were good at. 

“But,” Ghost said slowly, drawing your attention away from the pity party you’d already began throwing for yourself. “No one could make heads or tails of what was on the laptop.” 

“So its useless then?” You asked, trying to push the hurt out of your voice. 

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” Ghost let out a low chuckle. God, you’d become addicted to that sound already. “Whatever you plugged into it before you got hurt completely stumped everyone, they said only you’d be able to retrieve anything from it.” 

A warm pride filled your chest. No one could do what you could. You weren’t useless. 

“So… unfortunately for you, Pigeon. I’ve brought you some homework while I babysit you. Are you up for it?” 

Ghost dropped the laptop onto your lap. Your thumb-drive was still plugged into it, filled with malware and viruses you’d cooked up over the years. 

You smiled at him, beaming with pride as you opened the device. “Of course, just keep your eyes on me, sir. I’ll be done in no time.” 

[chapel-of-rizztual]

*LEAPS INTO ASKBOX* okay, for a potential idea could we please have Cardinal Copia with feisty Dewdrop agere? Dew is feeling around 5-6 but very sleepy and bratty. He just needs someone who is patient and a tad bit stern :')

anon bc i'm shy about these things but obvious mutual emoji so you know who it is

-🧃

Send some agere/regressed ghoul requests

It had been a long day. Travelling all day to a new venue, then playing a show, then getting back on the bus to move on to the next venue had been exhausting. All the ghouls were tired. Copia could see the tiredness in their faces, hell, he could feel it in his own, the heaviness in his eyes. But one ghoul in particular he could see the exhaustion on more than the others.

He been watching Dew fight sleep for the last twenty minutes now. He watched as the little ghouls eyes would droop until they were almost closed before his head would jerk back and he’d wake up abruptly. As determined as Dew seemed to be to finish the film the ghouls had picked out to watch for the evening, there was only so many times Copia could watch him struggle like this.

He made his was over to him, kneeling in front of him and placing a gentle hand on his knees. Dew jumps and makes an annoyed squeak, glaring down at Copia.

“Wha’ was tha’ for?” He slurs, slow blinking at him.

“I think it’s time you went to bed, little one.” Copia whispers, trying not to disturb the other ghouls.

Dew pouts at him, frowning in a way Copia thinks might be him trying to intimidating but he looks more like an angry kitten. “M not little, I’m big.”

“Oh yes, of course. My bad.” Copia puts on a serious voice, trying his hardest not to giggle when Dew yawns. “But I still think it’s time for bed, even for big ghouls like you.”

Dew rubs his eye with his fist, yawning again. “But I’m watchin’.” He lazily points to the tv, yawning again. “The films.”

Copia can’t help but chuckle then, watching as Dew blinks hard trying to stay awake.

“Do you even know the plot of the film at this point.”

Dew frowns at him again and the image of an angry kitten pops into Copias head again. “Uh huh. S’ got people in it. And a dragon.” He blinks in confusion. “Or maybe it’s just a big lizard.”

Copia laughs as he stands, grimacing when his knees crack at the shift of weight.

“Definitely time for bed.” He hold a hand out expecting Dew to take it but he bats it away with a glare.

“Nooooo.” Dew pouts up at him. “Don’t wanna. Not even tired.”

A full belly laugh bubbles from Copia before he can even stop it. “I know that’s a lie, little one. I’ve watched you try not to fall asleep for the last twenty minutes now.”

Dew huffs and crosses his arms across his chest.

“No you haven’t.”

“Oh, but I have. I know you’ve been tired all day, so now it’s time to sleep.” Copia holds his hand out again for Dew to take.

Dew whines and pouts, shaking his head. Copia rolls his eyes at his typical fire chill stubbornness.

“I’ll give you two options. You can either take your own little butt off to bed.” Copia pauses, waiting for Dew to answer. He doesn’t. “Or, I’ll pick you up and carry you to bed.” Knowing how much Dew usually hates being carried, he expects the ghoul to jump straight up and rush always.

To his surprise however, Dew takes a second to think about it, biting his lip as he does. He eventually looks up at Copia with wide puppy eyes.

“Up.” He lifts his arms up, making grabby hand at him.

Copia feels his eyebrows raise in surprise. “Up? Are you sure?” He asks warily, not wanting to get ripped to shreds by ghoul claws.

Dew pouts at him, and nods. “Up!”

Copia doesn’t hesitate scooping the little ghoul up then, letting Dew wrap his legs around his waist and rest his head in his shoulder. He carries him off towards where the bunks are as Dew purrs into his neck.

“Can I sleep in your bed?” Dew whispers.

Copia hums, rubbing a hand down Dews back. “Of course, little one. Whatever you want.”

Dew perks up a little a that promise. “Will you rub my belly?”

Copia laughs, expecting a request like that from Dew. “Of course.” He presses a kiss to Dews temple. “Anything you want.”

Dew lets out a happy but very sleepy chirp into his neck. He’s fast asleep, snoring on Copias shoulder before they even make it to his bed.

[valenschmidt]

Thanks for answering my ask! Yes, that's very true, Ryan has been consistently hated/viewed with suspicion and skepticism for years, so the majority of buddie fandom (who are Oliver stans) wouldn't want to ship him with Oliver. I distinctly remember one particular post (in Ryan's tag) a year or two ago that was like, "ugh if buddie goes canon i feel sorry for oliver having to kiss that man" 🙄

Lol yes I guess we have to thank bt shippers and their OTT vitriol for turning the tide somewhat. It's been nice to see a recent influx of vocal Eddie/Ryan fans join the fandom. So refreshing and entertaining.

Yes also I remember the super cute bts vids that popped up during/toward the end of s6, and some people tagging positively about Ryan (albeit begrudgingly!). But definitely a lot more people were on edge about rpf compared to now.

Ooooh so about Oliver being single, that's what I thought too! But someone else I sent an ask(?) to a while ago said that he didn't actually say anything concrete in his insta live, and that he is still with his gf 🤔 does anyone have any further confirmation either way? I'd love to know!

"this happens quite a lot when ships are about to go canon. People start projecting the ship onto the actors, especially when chemistry is REALLY huge " - this is a really interesting phenomenon you've pointed out!

No provblem anon! I love receiving asks!!

YES!!! I completely understand why people were really mad back then, especially black people and I also understand if there are still black people who haven't quite forgiven him and it's totally valid, because what he did was not ok (even if he never said that word he was still trying to justify his then wife's actions and that should have been a big no no) the problem is that people let it get a tad too far and spreading things that were NOT true to new fans in the recent years out of anger, making him seen like a terrible person who is a racist and hates black people when that is not true... Aisha and Angela were really mad back then but they both clearly have forgiven him (since Angela invited him to his anniversary party and Aisha to his wedding) and he has never done anything remotely similar again so I think he truly changed and has become better so I really believe people have started to see that and the bt being awful to him probably was a changing point to most of the fandom (not all because some still hate him) but well you can't change someone's views on people changing...

Also yes anon! A lot were completely against it calling it awful and whatnot and now are the biggest ryliver shippers (and getting viral over it when less than 6 months ago they would cancel you) and taking everything as ryliver signs but whatever I just hope they don't take things too far

To the Oliver thing... I watched that interview live and I'm 100% sure he said he's single but I can't for the life of me find a clip of the interview (if anyone finds it please send it to me!!!) But I remember that he said he was single and then kind of shaded his ex (lol) so yeah

As for the last thing... yup not many notice but it happens quite a lot. Just like how actors tend to fall in love with eachother (which doesn't happen all the time but it happens) in fandom it also happens that they believe they fall in love. Take heartstopper for example... Kit and Joe plan Nick and Charlie who are very in love but in reality they're just very good friends but people insist on shipping them or the Bridgerton actors that play Colin and Penelope as well... people project the feelings of their characters into their real life personalities because of the chemistry the actors have together. It's hard to comprehend the idea of acting so close to someone and play lovers and have so much chemistry but not falling in love

Wow now that was quite a lot 🤣

Sorry anon I got carried away

[jolapeno]

omg, you lot. i cannot believe this at all??? 7k of youuuu???

thank you so much. i wish i could hug every single one of you. like, from the bottom of my heart, i am so grateful to every single soul who has supported me. i cannot believe you've allowed me to take a little slice of the internet (and your hearts) to share stories and crazy ideas with you. whether you came for one fandom, and stayed for another or whether you've just discovered me, i adore you all. thank you, from the bottom of my heart ❤️

now. normally, i do celebrations differently, but i'm trying to be kinder to myself and allow myself to celebrate how good i am (ugh, felt so weird saying that). so, I thought we could have a...

CELEBRATION SLEEPOVER 🩷✨

you can send as many as you like from the below (and you can send them in on anon, if you'd feel more comfortable), but all you have to do is send me an emoji:

📝 send me a word + i'll search for it in my wips + show you the sentence 📺 make me choose between two (characters, shows, episodes) 🍑 fmk (you can be wildly inventive, just choose pedro boys please) 🎶 + your name/word and I'll assign a song from my liked songs to match each letter 🖼️ + a mood/word and i'll find three photos to send as a moodboard (you can also choose one of my fics if you want) 🔐 + a fic of mine and I'll tell you a directors cut/fun fact about it 🌝 open ask: you can ask me anything! send me any questions, top fives, fave things, book recs, random questions you're burning to ask

tagging below some moots who may wanna take part (but zero pressure):

@psychedelic-ink @fuckyeahdindjarin @thetriumphantpanda @hellishjoel @goodwithcheese @secretelephanttattoo @rhoorl @joelsgreenflannel @swiftispunk @joelscruff @maggiemayhemnj @perotovar @scenaaario @burntheedges @laughing-in-th3-purple-rain @msjarvis @hier--soir @oonajaeadira

[thewhumpcaretaker]

Whump idea, Vincent gets cavities from eating so much sugar all the time and has to go to the dentist. He’s scared of it hurting so Chidi holds his hand the whole time. Maybe he squeezes so hard he actually breaks a bone in Chidi’s hand, but of course Chidi is too tough to let on…then later Vincent sees a splint on it and says he’ll kill whoever hurt him. And Chidi is just like, well…

I took so long to answer this because I went on hiatus right afterwards, I'm sorry 😭

But I love this ask, it's so adorable and so funny!! I was thinking about it all week. Please do send more if the inspiration strikes you, anon. I can't get enough of HoplesslyDevoted!

-⚜- Sweet Tooth -⚜-

TW: Nothing except dentists for once! This is just fluffy hurt/comfort.

Image Source

The most painful things seemed to happen when it came to Vincent - or rather, Vincent seemed to do these things to himself, and perhaps to bystanders. The toothache was one of many such cases.

He wouldn’t admit it at first, but he was irritable for two days in a row, awoke looking like he hadn’t slept, and when he didn’t even want to eat sweets, Chidi knew something had to be wrong.

“Vous n'avez pas faim, monsieur? [Aren’t you hungry, sir?]” he asked, over a banquet table filled with a positively wasteful spread of breakfast foods, from syrup-drenched crepes to fresh croissants to heaps of jam and berries.

“Non.” But his stomach let out a noise that betrayed him, and Chidi raised an eyebrow. He watched Vincent look away and breathe a little too deeply for a moment, as he did when he was about to admit something. At last, barely above a whisper, he muttered, “J'ai mal aux dents. [I have a toothache.]”

Oh. Honestly, he was relieved it was nothing more serious. “Je parlerai à votre assistant d’un rendez-vous dentaire d’urgence. [I’ll speak to your assistant about an emergency dental appointment.]”

“Non, s'il vous plaît, ne le faites pas. Euh, c'est… [No, please don’t. Er, that is…]”

“…Monsieur, sans traitement, la situation ne fera qu'empirer. […Sir, without treatment, it will only get worse.]”

“Je SAIS que [I KNOW that],” he snapped. But he still did not give permission.

Vincent was toying with his fork, pushing a blueberry around an untouched plate. Chidi watched him fidget for a moment in silence, considering how to approach this. Finally, “Puis-je demander pourquoi pas, alors? [May I ask why not, then?]”

“Juste – tu viens avec moi ? [Just – will you come with me?]”

He was scared, then. Another person might have smiled at such endearing childishness, but that would have been a wrong move. Chidi just nodded, face flat. “Bien sûr. [Of course.]”

He soon realized how much pain the Marquis had been hiding. Once he could complain openly, he admitted that not one, but two molars were aching constantly, sending pain right through the back of his head. Chidi spoke to the assistant, cancelled all the day’s meetings, and spent the morning with Vincent’s head in his lap, massaging his scalp and his jaw while they waited for the appointment.

That afternoon, they found themselves in an office in Paris, with an elderly woman whose kindly demeanor and open face should have put anyone at ease. But she did not look happy to see Vincent. Apparently, she had served the Marquis since he was a child, and Chidi would guess she had quite a few stories she was sworn not to tell.

Vincent didn’t look happy to see her either. He was really pale and stood too close to Chidi in the lobby, keeping their shoulders in contact (though of course he was not made to wait more than a minute).

Chidi didn’t have to be told to take the seat next to the dental chair, though he was a little surprised to find Vincent’s hand catching his in a death grip almost immediately.  He described his symptoms in terse, one or two word responses, clearly fighting back panic. That was probably the only reason he allowed the dentist to lecture him about the amount of sugar he’d obviously been eating. All she got out of him was a glare. Chidi answered on his behalf about his diet, and promised to “work with the Marquis to establish a more rigorous tooth care schedule,” which was the most dignified way he could think to describe forcing Vincent to brush his teeth the next time he ate three chocolate éclairs at 9 AM.

He had multiple cavities, apparently. And despite very liberal use of anesthetic, when the dentist pulled out a drill, Vincent’s already crushing grip became really unbearable. Nonetheless, Chidi bore it. He just squeezed back and ran his thumb over Vincent’s fingers again and again to sooth him. He never spoke a word of protest. Nor did he say anything about it on the car ride back to the palace, nor when seeing Vincent off to a nap to make up for that night of tossing and turning in pain. Nothing except, “Vous avez été très courageux, monsieur. [You were very brave, sir.]”

The next time they saw each other, Vincent had emerged from his room for dinner, which would have to be mostly liquid. Despite grimacing at the creative smoothie blends the chef had concocted, he seemed in better spirits. His eyes fixed on Chidi affectionately across the table. “Tu sais, je pensais à quel point tu étais gentil avec moi aujourd'hui. Quand j’allais chez le dentiste quand j’étais enfant, la gouvernante s’impatientait au bout d’une minute et ne me tenait plus la main. Mais tu l’as fait, même si je ne devrais vraiment pas en avoir besoin. [You know, I was thinking about how kind you were to me today. When I went to the dentist as a child, the governess would get impatient after a minute and wouldn’t hold my hand anymore. But you did, even though I really shouldn’t need it.]”

Chidi smiled back, preening. “C'est ma joie d'être là pour toi. Ce dont vous avez besoin est exactement ce dont vous avez besoin, et je vous l’accorderai. [It’s my joy to be there for you. What you need is just exactly what you need, and I will give you that.]”

His eyes finally lighted on Chidi’s left hand, where a splint wrapped around his pointer finger. “Attends… qui t'a fait ça ? Y a-t-il eu une bagarre pendant que je dormais !? Celui qui a fait ça, je lui arracherai… [Wait…who did that to you? Was there a fight while I was sleeping!? Whoever did that, I’ll tear out their – ]”

“Ah non, je ne pense pas que ce soit necessaire, [Ah, no, I don’t think that’s necessary,]” Chidi said sheepishly.

“Que veux-tu dire... [What do you mean…]” Realization dawned over his face. “Non, je ne l’ai pas fait. Ai-je? [No. I didn’t. Did I?]”

“Bien… [Well…]”

“Oh, Chidi…” He stared at his hand, rueful. “Venez ici. [Come here.]”

Chidi came to stand beside his chair and the Marquis took up his hand, very delicately this time, to plant a small kiss on the splint. “Je suis désolé. [I’m sorry.]”

“C'est bon, monsieur. Tu es juste très fort. Je ai été impressionné. [It’s okay, sir. You’re just very strong. I was impressed.]” Chidi’s eyes flickered meaningfully to the butler on the other side of the dining room. The man took the hint and slipped out. Free to be a little more tender, he leaned down to return Vincent’s kiss - on the lips this time, but equally gentle.

Vincent lingered with their faces together, cupping his cheek. “Je ferais mieux de me brosser les dents après. Tu es la chose la plus douce que j'ai jamais goûtée. [I’d better brush my teeth afterwards. You are the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.]”

[punks-never-die205]

The anon post about Killer with his son got me thinking about the time when I reluctantly held my niece for the first time and how Kid might be with that situation. The dialogue is somewhat based off that experience.

Kil: "Do you want to hold him?"

Kid: "Uh, sure."

Kid's shown how to position his arms and support the baby's head before his "nephew" is handed over.

Kil: " Try to stay calm and relaxed. Babies can pick up on that."

Kid: "Okay..." *tries to relax his shoulders a little, looks down at the baby's sleeping face.*

It's so tiny, he realizes. He tries to be as soft and genuine as possible with his voice despite how ridiculous he feels

Kid: "Hi there, it's nice finally meet you."

The baby starts to fuss

Kid: "Okay, uh, what do I do?"

Kil: "Try rocking him a little, it might help."

Kid stands and gently rocks the baby, softly cooing before deciding that shutting up and rocking in silence is better. It works for awhile, he smiles to himself over his small accomplishment not realizing that his picture is being taken.

Kil: *with Kids phone in hand* "See, you've got this."

The baby starts to fuss even more then starts to cry.

Kid: *slowly starts to panic* "Okay, uh, can can I give him back? Please."

The baby is returned to his father and Kid looks through his camera roll while the baby is tended to

Kid: "Dude, how many photos did you take of me?"

Kil: "Enough for you to show off and brag about to your buddies at work."

Kid: *selects all except for one while grumbling under his breath* "Yeah, no. I have an image to uphold and storage space to keep on hand I'm not doing that."

He sends all the selected photos to the Cloud to be stored, in case the one on his phone gets lost. He'll show that one if people ask, but he doesn't want to be seen as a person who takes a bunch of photos because they're obsessed with their family or something.

Bonus Scene:

A week later, Kid casually watches a YouTube video about how to properly install a car seat from a retired firefighter and then another video about infant CPR out of curiosity. Now his YouTube recommendations are mostly full of videos about child safety.

"What the fuck! It was just two videos! This algorithm sucks." 🤦

Nothing to add from me, I think this is perfect XD

Kid kind of incidentally learning about cpr for the little ones, reminds me of how I fell into the pool when I was like 3 or something super young.

My mom froze up in a panic and my uncle dove into the pool like some kind of olympic swimmer. I didn't end up needing cpr, but the idea that Kid springs into action before the kid even goes fully under water and has them back onto dry land just stuck in my mind ^_^