#stained like georgia clay

[georgiapeach30513]

Stained Like Georgia Clay, Part 16

Summary:  Life with Cole…

Pairings:  Cole Turner X Reader

Rating:  mild

Warnings:  language, teasing, mentions of a breeding kink, tit worship, lactation kink, 18+ ONLY

Word Count:  6.6K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

The sun beams in through the bedroom window, and Cole glances down at your sleeping body.  In ways it feels like no time at all has passed.  You still curl into him, your hand mindlessly rubbing on his chest, while your slow breaths warm up his bare skin.  Your fingers still flutter in your sleep.  The difference now was there was the cutest little boy snoozing away downstairs.  

With the monitor on the nightstand, he hears Waylon’s soft little snores, and Cole has never felt more complete.  It was almost another fight getting you and Waylon to the house.  There were constant words going back and forth between him and Alan.  Your father did want to let you go, and really didn’t want Waylon to go.  

He had begged you to just wait.  Told you that you and Cole needed to date before you went rushing back to the way things were, but you ever so calmly told him you were going to be with your fiancé, and then there was another fight.  So many words were said to Cole, but he had you and his son, and Loretta Lynn all under one roof.  And that was what mattered.

He hates himself for not just showing back up, and demanding to talk to you.  He could have had this all along.  And you stayed faithful to him.  You never moved on or found another man.  You waited patiently because you knew that Cole would return.

He worried about how the town treated you as you walked around pregnant and alone.  What Bill could have said to you.  Or worse…Hal.  Cole has half a mind to tell you and your folks exactly who was behind the missing letter.  One thing was for certain, he was going to let Hal stew in worry on whether Cole tells you or not.  Hal robbed everyone of a different life.  Tried to insert himself into your life, and even then, it still didn’t work.

If it wasn’t for Waylon’s clear attachment to Hal, Cole would have already mentioned it.  He couldn’t even decide if it was worth it to tell you.  He had you, all of you.  And Hal was left with regret.  It pissed him off because Waylon would blurt out Hal’s name with his random jibberish and words.  And would even ask where Hal was.  

“Mmm,” you moan, sitting up a bit to look at him, “Oh my god,” you wince, and start to laugh.

“Are you okay?  What’s wrong?” Cole’s hand was pressing up against your skin gently as he looks over your body trying to figure out what ailed you.

“I think you turned me inside out.  Oh, god,” sitting up fully in the bed, Cole starts to lean forward, nipping at your tits, and you smirk, “Seriously?  What is your obsession with my boobies?”

“Don’t call them that.  You make it sound like I’m a child,” he mumbles with a mouth full of nipple.  Flicking on the bud.  “What?  I like the look of them.”

“Really?  And what are you trying to accomplish by sucking on my tit?”

“You know what I want to accomplish,” he pulls you back to the bed, moving to hover over you, and placing his thigh right in between yours, moaning when his skin touches your bare cunt, winding a hand down in between as well.  Rubbing over your tender clit, and slinking two fingers down into your warmth.  “I think I showed you exactly how…”

“Oww,” you start giggling when Cole removes his hand from between your thighs.  “I’m not used to that right now.”

“Are you seriously raw?”

“Why don’t you look,” his head goes underneath the sheet, and his entire body positions itself in between your thighs while he playfully inspects you.  Spreading apart your velvety lips, and kissing over your sore pussy.

“She’s still wet,” sitting up a bit more, you lift the blanket to see him smiling up at you.  Giving the most gentle kisses to your core.  “She’s really wet.”

“And raw.  I said you turned me inside out.  I swear we only took little naps all night.  She misses you, but for this morning, she needs a break.”

“Bee…”

“Ehh,” you place a hand over his mouth.  You missed him so much it hurt.  You didn’t doubt that he would come back for you and his son, but now it seems like a dream.  He was right here, and you had spent all night remembering each other’s bodies.  “Cole, she’s tired, and we have the rest of our lives.”

“Mama!  Bee!” You snort, starting to sit up more.  “Daddy!  Toe Wiggle!  I up!”

“Daddy, Toe Wiggle, your son is up and ready.  Waylon, be down in just a second, buddy.”

“Wayton Toe!” He screams, wiggling the gate a bit.  “My Etta, yes!” Hearing a plop on the floor, it was obvious that Etta was occupying him for the time being.  Giggles galore from him while he gets morning snuggles, and you turn to look at Cole with tired, but happy eyes.

He cups your cheek a moment, still thankful that you hadn’t moved on, “My son.  I love to hear that, and he’s very sweet to hear, minus the fact he calls me Toe Wiggle.”

“It’s adorable.  Even your mom says so,” grabbing his shirt, he stops you.  Squeezing and kneading both tits before sucking on them both.  Those piercing eyes looking up at you over your chest.”

“Wayton Toe!” Waylon demands from downstairs.  Starting to stomp his feet around as he repeats his name over and over again.  Doing a little jig to wake you and Cole up.

“Alright, alright, let’s go get the boy.  I need those later.”

“They get bigger when I’m pregnant,” biting at your lip, you look at him over your shoulder.  “But of course once Waylon was born they belonged to him.”

“That’s not even funny.  Bee, I’m not even joking.”

“Did you just become a boob man?”

“I feel that’s very obvious.”

“Wayton Toe!” Your toddler growls out, shaking the gate again.  “My mama!  Get me!”

“That’s enough, sir.  Let’s go make breakfast with your baby.”

Cole sighs, watching you practically skip to the door, hearing that sweet boy squeal when he sees you at the top of the stairs.  This was the one thing he never even knew he wanted, and now he didn’t know how he could live without it.  Scooping your son up in your arms, you kiss all over his chubby cheeks asking how he slept.  

“Ahh!  Hey, daddy!  Toe Wiggle my daddy!”

“Hey, buddy,” Waylon makes grabby hands towards Cole, and you love watching them bond.  It didn’t take much and Waylon was wanting to spend more time with Cole than he did you.  Laughed and smiled at everything Cole said.  And Waylon loved to trace Cole’s features with his fingers.  Moving those tiny fingers over every bit of his daddy’s face.  “What do you want for breakfast?”

“Nee and Appies!”

“You heard him, Bee.  Our son wants apples and honey.  Maybe we should have pancakes, too?” Waylon nods his head excitedly, and points down to Loretta, “We need to feed the ole gal, huh?”

“Etta not ode!” He frowns looking at Cole before pouting down at the dog.  “Etta my baby!”

“No, you’re right.  And Waylon Cole is  my baby.”

Waylon takes a deep breath, patting a hand over his belly, and shakes his head.  “No.  No, me a big boy!  Need a baby!”

“Yes, Yes we do,” both Cole and Waylon turn look towards you, and you are flabbergasted.  Waylon hadn’t ever asked you for a baby.

“Waylon Cole Turner!” You yelp looking at the two of them.  “What is this?”

“I not a baby,” Waylon shrugs, and looks over at Cole.  “Daddy said.”

“Woah, why are you ratting me out like this, buddy?”

“You two feed the dog.  I’m going to make breakfast.  Waylon get daddy to help make your bed, and get your outfit picked out.  You can get dressed after breakfast.”

“Ooh!  Daddy naughty.”

“Daddy is going to go to timeout if he keeps talking like that.  Now, boys.  You have work to do,” you wait until Cole places Waylon on the floor, letting him waddle over to Loretta’s food, and help him assist Waylon.  Checking her water before running to his room.

“Bee, are you really angry?”

“No, but…we’ve got so much going on.  We want to build a house.  We want to get married.  You need to bond with Waylon, and you’re already hinting about a baby.  Can we just slow down, please?  I’m not saying I don’t want another baby.  I just want to pause this.  My dad hates this.  We can’t do anything without you and him getting in an argument.  And I know that Hal hates this, and…don’t roll your eyes.  I know what your issues are with him.”

“No, you really don’t,” you really had no idea, and at this point it was best if you didn’t.  It irradiated Cole to think about what Hal did with those letters.  Did he read them?  Did he still have them?  Or were they trashed like it was nothing?

“Either you tell me all the issues, or you let it go.  Waylon loves him.  And he knows who his dad is, and that’s you.  He just calls Hal, Hal.  I’m not saying the two of you have to be best friends, I’m just saying that Hal had a big part of our lives.  He was there,” Cole clenches his teeth.  His Adam’s apple bobs, and as of right now, there was no making Cole understand.  “Hal is the least of our worries.  You want a house.”

“I want to experience everything I missed.  The thing that everyone got to be a part of, and I didn’t,” this was the worst part of your situation.  Cole missed out on so much, as did Waylon.  They deserved to have every experience that a father and son should.  And there was no going back.

“I’ll make a deal with you; after Waylon turns two, if we have the house mostly finished, then we can start trying.  I don’t want another baby here.  You’re the older one here, can’t you see that this just isn’t the time for a child or enough space for a baby?” He nods his head, pulling you into his embrace by your waist.  His chin on top of your head, and you melt into his chest.  “I want you to have all that you missed, but at the right time.”  

“You’re right, sweet Bee.  It’s not the right time, but if you could quit trying to force Hal on me, that would be great.”

“Daddy, mama, kiss!”

“I didn’t kiss her.”

“Kiss!”

“You better do as he says, Daddy,” you smile up at Cole, knowing that everyday you were going to get to have these moments.  Everyday something new, and everyday have your family together.  Sure, you had some things to work through, but they were right there in your grasp.  And you were ready.

“And where’s your ‘fiancé’?” You roll your eyes, jumping onto the counter as your dad cleans up from supper.  “Came here without my boy, too.  Honey, you just whisked Waylon from everything he knows.  Took my dog.  And your…shacked up with Cole Turner.  Are you even aware of how old he is?  Or did you really just want to piss me off?”

“Are you finished?” Sighing, you lean back on the cabinets.  Cole had kept Waylon just for you to have this conversation.  “I’m not leaving Cole to make yourself feel better.”

“He’s not good enough for you.  You deserve more than that…honey, you have no idea how he was in high school.”

“Why are you focused on that?  Focus on how he is now.  How he treats your daughter and grandson.  All you care about is who Cole was, instead of who he is to me right now.  Dad, he’s a good man,” your dad opens his mouth, but you only speak louder.  It was his turn to listen, “Had Cole known about Waylon while I was pregnant, he would have been here.  That man loved Waylon immediately.  That is his son.  He is our son.  And he makes both of us so happy.  That’s what matters.  Did you know we spent the day looking at house plans?”

“He’s putting you on his family land, so you have nothing.  If you split up, then what?”

“That’s a pretty big if.  And besides, this land is going to mine, and then Waylon’s.  I have something to fall back on for me and my child.  And our home will be paid for with both of our money.  That is what couples do.  Cole isn’t going to own me.  We are a team.  And he is not only my fiancé but he is my son’s, your grandson’s, father.  And Waylon loves his daddy.  Can you not see that?  Are you that pissed off that you don’t even see how he emulates Cole? Is it the age difference or because you know him?  Because neither of us knew the connection.  Quite frankly we weren’t even worried about anything like that.”

Alan exhales deeply, putting a cup into the cabinet before turning towards you. Leaning on the counter, trying to find the words to say.  Everything coming to his brain was yet another insult.  “Do you not see why I’m upset?”

“No,” you answer flatly.  There was no reason for him to be upset.  Cole didn’t even put up a fight while he let Alan punch him over and over again.  “I would get why you are upset if Cole was a piece of shit.  I could have brought Waylon for this conversation, and let him be with mom, but Cole doesn’t want Waylon away from him.  He’s never going to get that time back.  He didn’t hear Waylon say his first word, or see him take his first step.  Cole missed him eating solid food.  He missed him stomping around in nothing but boots while you let him pee off the porch.  Cole has missed so much of his son’s life, and it wasn’t by choice.  He was wanted by both of us.”

“I didn't need to hear that.”

“Then hear this; Cole and I talked about kids.  About how we wanted them.  We talked about our plans for our future.  I wasn’t just some girl to him.  We talked about marriage.  Waylon might not have been planned, but he wasn’t really prevented either.”

Your father’s face falls blank while he stares at you, and you start to giggle.  If he wanted to continue to not like Cole for you, and he still had no idea the dynamics of your relationship with him.  Cole and you were both to blame for the creation of Waylon.  He was such a pleasant surprise, and everything he did reminded you of Cole.

“Seriously?  You have to bring up…I don’t want to talk about yours and — his life like that.”

“But you do.  You want to assume because of our age difference that all it was between us was the physical part, and it just wasn’t.  I lived with him.  We spent every day together, and we talked.  We wanted what we’re planning now.  Seriously, we wanted this life.  And I just want you to accept that Cole is not only Waylon’s dad, but he’s going to be my husband.  I don’t want this constant fight or disagreement between the two of you.  Cole Turner today is not Cole Turner from high school.  Are you?”

His sight falls to the counter while he lets that marinate.  You never once raised your voice or got irritated with your father.  You were calm.  And his attitude towards Cole was not going to sway you from being with him.  You wanted Cole those two years, and you still did.  “Tomorrow, if you like, we can take you out to the property where we want to build.  Start planning our future.”

“He’s so much older than you, honey.”

“Maybe.  But he loves me.  Loves our son.  Waylon loves him, and is loving having us together.  I have to hear everyone else’s whispers about mine and Cole’s age difference, and for the past two years that’s all it’s been.  Whispers about me being a single mom.  Marrying Cole we’ll hear the same things, and we need support.  So either you support us, or…”

“We’ll support you.  I remember how everyone spoke about you, and you didn’t flinch.  It was because you knew Cole was coming back, hmm?  I don’t like this.  I don’t know if I ever will.  And if he…if he disappoints you or my grandson, he will have hell to pay.”

“So why don’t we worry about it if it happens.  But it won’t.  Cole’s the real deal.  You’ll see.  Now, can I go home to my son and fiancé?”

“Only if you bring my boy here for supper,” you give him a nod, jumping off the counter.  You were warned this would be a hard transition for your father.  Keeping Waylon away from him was never an option.  He just wasn’t going to be living here, and with your parents.  But you know just how much your dad was missing his buddy.  How Waylon’s night routine was no longer laying back and watching the news with his Papaw until he fell asleep.  He wasn’t being woken up by the pitter patter of Waylon’s feet in the morning.  It was one thing that you liked to admit, Waylon had a good Papaw.

“Clean up your toys, buddy,” Waylon lets out a bit of a growl, looking up at Cole, while you ready him a cup of milk.  

“Me no wanna.  Me pay.”

“It’s naptime, and you made a mess,” Waylon’s lip starts to pucker, trembling with his incoming tears.  He had stayed awake past his nap, and his behavior was showing it.  You just wait, and see how Cole was going to handle Waylon.  He had his moments, just like any other child.  “Waylon.”

“No!  Me pay!” And there was the stomp.  The one that Cole loved for you to do, but with his son was a bit different.  Same pouty face, and same force behind the stomp.  “Me pay now!”

“No, you clean up now.  Mama is making you some warm milk, and we’re going to take a nap,” he shakes his head no, stomping his foot again, and Cole looks up at you.  You want Cole to be more proactive with dealing with this side of Waylon.  It came with the territory.  “Waylon Cole, it is time to clean up.”

“No nap!  Wayton Toe no seep.”

Cole takes a deep breath, squatting down into the floor with Waylon, and the toddler immediately runs into his arms.  The standoff anger was gone, and replaced with sleepy tears.  “Wayton Toe seepy.”

“I know you’re sleepy, buddy.  You wanna help daddy clean up?”

“No!” Waylon wails, burying his face into Cole’s chest.  “Me seep.  Me seep now.”

“Daddy. Is going to hold you then, and pick up your toys.  You just tell me where they go, okay?”

“Otay.  I seep wif mama and…and my daddy?”

“Yes, buddy,” Cole looks up to you, and with the most pitiful face.  You don’t bother to make a comment.  Just stand with his milk ready in your hand.  Watching the two of them bond, and also clean up the mess.  Waylon points over to a new set of drawers that Cole said that Waylon needed.  Even crawling out of Cole’s arms to help assist his dad.  Taking the time to put each toy back where it belonged.  Finally smiling when he reaches back up for Cole to hold him.  

Practically falling asleep in Cole’s arms as he carries him upstairs to the loft.  Waylon wipes at his sleepy eyes, and reaches for his sippy cup of warm milk from you, and crawls to the center of the bed, “Etta?”

“Loretta Lynn, your boy needs you,” Loretta audibly groans before trudging up the stairs, and laying on her bed in there.  “Better, baby?”

“Yesh, daddy.  Shh, Wayton Toe seepy,�� kissing on his sweet little forehead, Cole watches every second that it takes for Waylon’s eyes to flutter shut before he looks up at you, pouting.

“He’s not always perfect, daddy.”

“But he went from angry to the most pitiful little thing in just a few minutes.  How do you resist not wanting to do everything for him?  I was able to because you were watching, and you even told me we were keeping him up too long.”

“Cole,” your voice was so soft and sweet as you brush back Cole’s fluffy hair.  “I’ve had a lot of practice with Waylon, you haven’t.  I know his sleep patterns, and you will learn them.  But that is nothing.  Wait until you don’t give him an orange cup when he wants blue one.  He’s a baby.  His brain isn’t equipped for big emotions, so they come out extreme.  We just have to teach him the more effective way to react.  You did fine though.  And he wanted you, instead of me.  I don’t know how I feel about that.  Kinda rude if you ask me.  I’m his mama.”

“Psh,” Cole blows out a bit of air, and kisses over Waylon’s forehead.  “Let me enjoy the moment of getting to hold this boy in my arms, before he’s thrashing around trying to spread himself out, and sweating to death.  Just let me enjoy whatever moments he gives me, okay?”

“Okay, daddy.”

“I really got to get used to you callin me that in a non sexual way, you realize that, don't you?” Of course you did.  You also enjoyed the cute little torture you were giving him, and his exasperated looks up at you, “It’s not funny, Bee.  I know what you’re doing.”

“Just give me a kiss, and take a nap.  We gotta show our son where his home is going to be built.  Daddy,” if it wasn’t for that sweet boy that was snuggled up to his daddy, Cole would have had you rolled over on your back, ready to make you see exactly who daddy was.  But instead he glares at you.

“You’re going to pay for that, sweetheart.”

“It’s what I was hoping for.”

Waylon squeals, running through the field with Loretta.  Getting sight of the pond before he points at it.  “Gonna have to get a fence around that thing, Bee.  He’s also going to learn to swim as soon as possible.”

“But watch,” Loretta gives him a nudge to his stomach, and he runs in the opposite direction, “I do agree though.  So you’re thinking that the house should go up there?”

“Yep, that way the pond is far enough from the entrance, but is sitting in front of the house.  And when we come home, the view is the pond, with the house reflecting on the water, and then our home, and…Waylon!  Do not go in the woods!” Waylon stops in his tracks, turning to look at the two of you with a mischievous grin, “Waylon Cole, don’t you dare go into the woods unless me or mama are with you.”

“Etta!”

“Loretta is not good enough.  There’s snakes and bears!”

“Nakes?  Beers?  Nope,” his little body turns, and starts stomping further away from the woods.  “No nakes.  No beers.  No painters.  No no.  Papaw daddy say no painters.”

“What is he talking about?” Cole looks towards you, and you start cackling.  That little boy still walking around the property mumbling about snakes, bears, and ‘painters’.  “What the hell is a painter and why is he worried about them?”

“Have you seriously forgotten your raising?  Painters.  Panthers.”

“Oh, good grief.  Is he seriously telling our son about imaginary panthers that live in the woods of Georgia?” You shrug, going to stand behind him.  Wrapping your arms around his waist, and resting your chin on his shoulder as you watch that crazy boy running around with Loretta.  “There’s no such thing as panthers in Georgia.  And black ones at that.  Panthers that make such a terrible noise that it sounds like a woman being murdered.  I have pushed that so far out of my mind I forgot about that old wives tale.”

“It’s keeping him away from the woods though.  Look at them.  And just think, Daddy, one of these days we’re going to have our home, and even more kids running around,” with a hand up under Cole’s shirt, he bumps his butt out to hit you, “Hey!”

“Quit trying to make me horny when I can’t do anything about it.  Bee, I don’t know why, but I have always wanted this with you.  Like our kids running around a field as the sun starts to set.  And I want to wait as long as you want for another, but I am very jealous that I didn’t get to see your body change.  And feel my son wiggling around in your belly.  No pressure, but I’m just waiting on you, darling.  I do agree we need this house built, so…tomorrow can we find someone?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“And I swear, if you don’t quit calling me that when it’s not sexy time…”

“Shh, enjoy the view a little bit longer.  Tomorrow Waylon will be slightly bigger.  He’s only going to be just like that today.”

Your mom groans trying to zip your dress up before standing up exasperated, “Are you serious right now?” She asks looking in the mirror, while Rachel Turner tries to hide her beaming smile.  Cole had already told his mother, and clearly you hadn’t.  “Honey, your dress won’t zip.”

“Try harder.”

“It might be because you're pregnant, and far enough along to pop out,” looking down at your belly, you give the slight swell a little rub.  The house was just about finished and Cole became insatiable.  Every day and multiple times a day he needed you to feel him.  “Why did you not wait?”

“Uhh…it’s kinda awkward having that conversation with my mom and my baby daddy’s mom present.  So when a man loves a woman…”

“What are we going to do about your dress?  You have less than an hour before your daddy is walking you up to the barn,” you grimace, looking at her.  “What?”

“I have asked you repeatedly not to call dad that.”

“I don’t have time for this.  Your dress will not zip.  Your father is walking you to the barn, and to your new ‘daddy’ and…Rachel, stop laughing.  This isn’t funny.  The dress.”

“Tracy, calm down,” Rachel steps behind you, hand on your stomach, “Suck it in real good,” taking a deep breath, you do as she’s asked, and she holds the two sides closer together, “Alright, zip it up.”

Finally getting to the top, you let out a bit of air, and turn to the side, looking at yourself, “You can’t even tell.”

“I’m surprised they waited that long.  They literally live together, sleep in the same bed, and my son has been wanting a baby girl, and...”

“Can we change the subject to anything, but me and Cole trying to have a baby.  Yes, mother, it was planned.  We talked about it, we worked for it, and now I’m pregnant, and Waylon kinda knows, unless Cole went ahead and told him.  He was asking some questions when we were decorating the nursery.  Now,” you take a deep breath, looking at yourself in the mirror.  

It seemed like a lifetime ago that Cole and his crooked smile had bought honey from you out of the back of your truck.  An immediate flirtation ensued, followed by urges, feelings, and thoughts you just couldn’t control.  What started off as an exploration of your fantasies had turned into your best friend.  The two of you had taken a journey of so many ups and downs, but the one thing that did remain was the love you had for each other.  The need you had to stay together.  

You had missed him while you were learning to be a mother, and now you got to see him become Waylon’s favorite person.  No one ever thought the perpetual bachelor would become a father, and literally beg you for more children.  A man that nobody saw settling down, came home every night to sit on the floor with his son playing with Lincoln Logs, and LEGO bricks.  A man that left behind a life of leisure and settled down, back in the quiet town he fled.

Cole had grown just as much as you had.  Growing roots deep in your hometown, and still pack up your bags, and traveling the country, and eventual world as a family.  As long as Loretta could tag along.  He was your dream, and you were everything he never knew he wanted.

Your dad grabs your hand as you look towards the barn, and Cole and Waylon are standing beside each other.  The supers of bees are full as they buzz around in the background, and Waylon waves down at you sweetly.  It's late spring, and everything is just starting to wake up.  Willowing grass blowing in the wind, and you drag your father along to get up there sooner.

“Can I not just have a moment of you not being married?”

“Dad, you’ve had plenty of those moments, and now…I’m ready.  He’s all I’ve ever wanted.  He encourages me, supports me, and loves our son, and — he’s a good one.  Just like my dad.”

“You better stop that.  I’m giving you away to a former…I’m sorry, honey.  To a good friend, and a good man.  Even better father.  Just didn’t think the first time that I introduced you to Cole, and he kissed your head…”

“Dad, can we not bring that up?  I didn’t grow up with Cole.  I met him as an adult, and no matter what you say, I’m walking up to marry that man.  Get used to it, Papaw,” he gives you a bit of a nudge before stopping in front of Cole.  Giving a final nod, and a handshake to your future.

“Papaw, I’m daddy’s best man!” Waylon shouts from a lower perch.  “Shh, sit down, and don’t talk though!”

“Waylon,” Cole laughs, but doesn’t remove his eyes from you, “You gotta be quiet, buddy.”

“Okay, and don’t tell everyone about…” a hand presses up against Waylon’s mouth, and Cole shakes his head.  Cole had given Waylon the pregnancy talk while they were getting ready.  And how things were going to change in the new house.  You couldn’t keep that peach colored room a secret anymore.  Waylon was too curious.  “Okay, daddy, I won’t talk about the little secret honeybee.”

While everyone else laughs, you and Cole still cannot tear your eyes away from each other.  It didn’t even matter.  You were pregnant with baby number two, and she was going to be such a welcome part to your life.  

“Bee, I never thought I would find myself back here.  Never thought that I would have all that you gave me.  Never even wanted it.  And then there was this beautiful little thing, steadily writing in her notebook in the back of a truck with a crate full of raw honey, and I couldn’t stay away.  Thankfully, you couldn’t either.  We’re anything but traditional, some may say even backwards, but it’s been perfect.  We’ve also got the most adorable little boy to prove just how perfect our togetherness is, and…I can’t wait to fill our home up with little baby bees.  And I just…thank you.  Thank you for all that you have given me.  Given us.”

Waylon wraps an arm around his daddy’s leg, looking up at you as you deeply breathe in and out.  “Cole, I — oh my god, I’m supposed to be the one with words, and I can’t even think right now.  But this place…I don’t know if you remember, but this was the place that you and I talked at all night.  The place where you told me to get out of my head and to live life, and I’m still here, and I’m living my life with you.  That first summer I never thought I would meet someone.  Definitely not someone like you.  I wouldn't change it for the world.  You and our family have been the best part of my life.  And I know you’re going to give me so many more years of living that life with you.  Thank you.  Thank you for getting me out of my head, and constantly reminding me that we would go at my pace.  Because now, we have it.  We have it all.”

Your little girl flops over into your lap, pulling your newest notebook down, and points at your chest, “Boobees!”

“Millie, it’s not bedtime,” you push aside her curls, booping her on her nose again.  But she reaches for the top of your dress, trying to pull it down.  “Millie, no.”

“Boobees.  No daddy,” she says looking around the property for any sign of Cole.  “No daddy.”

“It’s not just daddy that says that it’s time for you to stop nursing,” Amelia gives you a mischievous smile, starting to pull down your dress again.  “Amelia Ann Turner.”

“Boobees, peas?”

You look out towards the field, and still there was no Cole or Waylon making their way back, and then back down to your sweet girl.  Waylon was so easy to wean, she was a pain, and Cole didn’t help with his teasing.  “Peas, mama?  No daddy.”

“Fine.  But this is the last time,” she gives a little smile before laying against your chest chest to nurse, her hand immediately going to your mouth, where you kiss on the chubby little fingers.  Leaning your head back on the tree that was giving you and her shade.  

Life had a strange way of working out.  You are able to continue to write, continue to be a wife and mother, and continue to travel around with your family.  Even if miss Millie was needy, and couldn’t get enough of you.  Letting your eyes start to flutter close, while you are just here in the moment.  Enjoying the life that you have made with Cole, Waylon, and Millie.  

“Millie!  Daddy sees you!” Millie pulls off you, giggling, and looking towards her dad and brother walking up from the pond.  Fishing poles in their hands before Waylon hands his over to Cole, and starts running to their playset screaming for his sister.  “Uh-uh, Amelia, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“My boobees!”

“No, they are not.  It is time for you to stop,” she shakes her head no, snuggling more into you.  “Have you even told her why she has to stop?”

“Not daddy’s boobees, mine.  All mine,” trying to pull your dress down, you pull it right back up.  “Ugh!  Mine.  Mama peas!”

“Bee, I swear, our kids have that bratty side to them, just like their mom.  Those are not yours.  They are for your baby…”

“Mine!  No!” Amelia screams, pouting up at her dad.  She had noticed that little bump many times.

“Nope, your mom’s got a baby in there,” Millie shakes her head no, pressing her head against you, and you start to giggle.  “Yep, you’ve got a brother in mama’s belly.”

“Wayton in der?”

“No, baby,” you coo as she looks up at you.  “You’ve got a baby brother in there, and…”

“My boobees?”

“No, they’re going to be the baby’s.  He’s going to need them, so you’ve got to stop.”

“He stay der, den.  No baby.  Millie da baby,” she gives you a poke to your belly, and recoils away from you feeling the more prominent bump.  “Millie pay wif Wayton.  Boobees yater!” Her little chubby legs shuffle towards Waylon and Loretta, and the fluffy dog runs towards her to guide her over to the little playground when Cole sits down beside you.

Moving around until he lays in your lap.  His hand caresses over the newest member of the Turner family, before his hands move higher to your chest, “The kids watching?”

“No, Daddy,” pulling your top down, he pushes his mouth against your tit, flicking his tongue over your nipple.

“You said you were going to stop,” he reminds you of Millie’s nursing before closing his mouth completely over your tit.

“I said, I would stop when she was ready.  She’s not.  Your mom says I’ll feel it in my knees.  I feel nothing.  Plus, our newest unnamed bee doesn’t seem to mind his sissy laying on me.  He likes the warmth, he always gets so calm.  What are you doing?” His thumb and forefinger steadily rolls your neglected nipple, while he continues to suck.

“You know why I like this angle on the property?” He continues to tease your other nipple, looking over at it to give a few flicks with his tongue before kissing over the swollen bud, and covering you back up.  “They really can’t see anything from this angle.  I could suck on you, and they wouldn’t know.”

“You better stop,” you coo down at him petting his face, “You ever miss your old bachelor life?”

“And miss all this?  No, I got a beautiful and sexy wife that lets me use her body, shes giving us this amazing life with beautiful kids, I got those tits to play with whenever I want,” his hand spreads out over the property, and right on cue you hear both the kids giggling, and laughing.  “Millie is a sassy pants, Waylon is our mister adventure, and who knows how John Scott will be,” you shake your head no, “Okay, you don’t like that name, what about Hank?”

“No!  Our son literally wanted an Aussie dog to name Hank.  Absolutely not.  We don’t have to choose his name now.  It’s just something to think about.  He’ll be here before we know it.  And Miss Millie is going to share the boobees.”

“I’m not sharing with two kids.  No, she’s going to have to stop with the boobees.  You said that once she could ask for it, she was cut off.  She asks for boobees everyday.  She’ll be potty trained, and still be asking for boobees.”

“She’s just a baby, Cole.  Her can’t help it that her loves her mama, and prefers her mama over you.”

“No, she prefers the boobees.  Do not get confused.  Bee,” his hand snakes behind your neck, pulling you down to give you the most tender and soft kiss.  “What’s this book about?”

“I’ll let you know when it’s finished.  Take a nap, daddy.  I just want to watch our babies for a minute.  Enjoy our simple parts of life, until the work week starts again.  We get to give them a charmed life.  Let them run around barefoot, just so their feet can get stained with Georgia clay.”

“Bee?” You look back down at Cole, smiling at your handsome and beautiful man, “Am I still stained on your heart like Georgia clay?”

“Yes, daddy.  Forever.”

THE END

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @softsatnin @peaches1958 @seitmai @patzammit @openup-yourmind @elrw24 @bxdbxtxh15 @buckysteveloki-me @lilac-tea-time @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @feyfantome @cjand10 @lavender-annd-lilac

[shadyufo]

Hi, I have a quick question about degreasing! Im working on a fox skull; I had buried the animal about 2.5 years ago, but due to covid and some other circumstances, I only was able to dig it up recently. The soil it was buried in had a lot of clay in it too. The flesh was gone when I dug it up but the skull is this weird brown-ish/red-ish color. Is that just the grease stuck in the bone or do you think it’s possible the clay may have stained it? And if it did, will peroxide help at all with that later on? Also, how often should you change the water while degreasing if you’re not using an aquarium heater? I’ve been doing it once a day, but should I be doing it more frequently? Thank you! c:

Hi Anon!

Clay and other mineral-rich soils can most definitely stain bones and honestly that's what it sounds like you may be dealing with here instead of grease.

For example, please allow me to introduce Zan and Spooktastic the llamas and Papoose and Yogi the mini horses:

I got all of these skulls from a super sweet person who owned them all when they were alive. They lived on a hobby farm in Georgia and most were animals the owner had rescued. Once they passed their remains were placed in an area with lots of red clay. Years later, the owner decided to salvage the skulls and pass them on someone who might enjoy them and I was lucky enough to be able to get them and keep them all together.

They were mostly clean when I got them and just needed some dirt removal and very minor degreasing then whitening and repairs. But as you can see, they all held on to the memory of the red clay from their home. Especially Papoose—mostly visible on the underside of her skull as you can see here:

So I'd say that's likely what you are dealing with with your fox skull. However, are you noticing any cloudiness to the degreasing water? Or a film on the surface developing between water changes? If so then that'll be grease coming out of the bone. For best results, heating the water is really ideal but if you don't have access to a fish tank or bucket heater then I'd recommend keeping the container near a sink and changing the water out for hot water throughout the day every time you think about it. Once a day will be fine too but changing it to hot tap water whenever you think about it will help speeds things up a bit. Make sure to add some Dawn dish soap each time too. Or you could look into using ammonia to degrease instead. I'm not a fan of using it personally but I know a lot of folks like it.

As for whitening—hydrogen peroxide will definitely help some with the staining if that is what you are dealing with. The skulls pictured above do still have some of the red clay staining them but it was much more noticeable before I started working on them. And I could probably get it to fade a bit more but it honestly kind of grew on me, haha.

When you go to whiten your fox skull, make sure to let it soak in the peroxide in a open container out in direct sunlight. Exposure to air and sunlight degrade peroxide faster so you'll probably have to add more as you go (so long as it's still bubbly you're good) but in my experience skulls get much whiter, much faster this way so it's a worthwhile trade-off.

Hope that helps, Anon! Thanks for the message and best of luck with your project! <3

[lavender-annd-lilac]

🎁 Holiday Gifting Guide 🎁

(Fic Rec Edition!!)

Do you put the "PRO" in procrastination? Are you reading this on today, December 24, 2022 instead of scrambling to get all the gifts you haven't got yet?

Well you made the right choice, because I have the PERFECT gifting recommendations for you!

From the bottom of the heart that I may or may not have, please enjoy 🖤

See the rest of my fic recs HERE

I have linked each fic with my comments attached, but I also put a warning (?) if you might want to skip the commentary

Little White Lies

By @cockslutpadalecki

Pairing: Dark!Catfish!Ransom x Reader

Skip over my comments if: you don’t like Rick Astley

Who it’s for:

The "practical" gift giver

This kind of person gives you...A new toaster oven because you wrecked yours in the sink when your bagels started burning! A new humidifier bc your house is dry af! A new set of tableware bc you break everything and now just eat soup out of the can with a straw!

Not the most thrilling unboxing experience, but honestly, it’s shit that you actually need but probably would never have made time to get for yourself bc you are too busy reading fics on Tumblr.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

This gift will let them know you are very aware that that people have it worse out there. You’re basically saying, "I appreciate this family size pack of 3-ply toilet paper, because even though my disappointment was through the roof when I opened this big ass present I thought was going to be something epic, at least I’m not stuck in a hotel bc I got catfished over 3 months by some trust fund prick". A sentiment that truly encapsulates everything about the holiday season, and the gratitude you feel towards human kind.

The time Brock Rumlow broke a rule *

(drabble from the ongoing “Penthouse” series)

By @kinanabinks

Pairing: sex worker!fem!reader x multiple characters (*not a Brock x Reader fic)

Skip over my comments if: you hate hot dogs 🌭

Who it’s for:

The last minute gift giver

You know that person that gives you things they obviously bought at the gas station on the way home? Like, a selection of snacks, beef jerky, candy, and a couple lottery tickets?

Well, if you think about it, this forgetful person is the other side of the coin with has your procrastinating face on the front! They may only have remembered at the last possible moment, but they still cared enough to give you a random assortment of items packaged together as a cohesive “present” even though you both know what really happened. But still! They were willing to endure the shame and ridicule you surely put them through afterwards, and basically give you this leverage to hold over them in the future.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

It’s also about someone coming through and being there when you need them. Plus, if they don’t like it (cut them out of your life if they don’t like this fic tbh), you can always bring up the fact that their present was shit, so they have no business complaining about this wonderful work of fiction.

Stained like Georgia Clay

(ongoing series)

By @georgiapeach30513

Pairing: Cole Turner x Reader

Skip over my comments if: you are a cop

Who it’s for:

The nostalgic gift giver

A game boy colour from the 1990’s. Those roller skates with 4 wheels that I feel like people don’t really skate with. A lava lamp. This is for the person who loves the way things used to be - the person who always carries a quarter or two to use a phone booth “just for fun” bc you never know when they will vanish.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

Why not indulge them with some of the same nostalgia by introducing them to this delightful series steeped in old fashioned small town charm, with a hint of excitement for the future. Wow, that's so on point!! You really are the best gift giver!!

Ranking biggest and baddest

(HC from ongoing series “All That Ultraviolence”)

By @the-iceni-bitch

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x gf!law student reader, plus a LOT of other CE/SS characters, and a partridge in a pear tree Henry Cavil one

Skip over my comments if: you're a coward that doesn't want a peak inside my brain

Who it’s for:

Yourself!!

That’s right! Treat yo self this holiday season bc you deserve it!!! And you can quote me on that!! Show this to your boss/overbearing parent/pain in the butt child/anyone else that is giving you a hard time! If they have any questions, my ask box is open.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

We’ve all seen that tumblr post at some point - the one that’s like “I read too many stories as a kid and now I’m emotionally burnt out so I can only read about the same 2 idiots falling in love over and over again”.

Well, if you are one of those burnouts, this is for you. I mean it’s not technically a fic, but at a time where we choose to believe in immaculate conception, flying reindeer, and benevolent home invaders, let’s not fuss about it.

If you love reading about two people falling in love ad nauseam, what about 9+ variations of 3 actors characters with varying degrees of affection for YOU. Plus, each with their own distinct personality, relationship dynamic, and and dick size! All described in detail for your reading pleasure! (you can find that last one for yourself in the author’s masterlist, like an Easter egg hunt!)

Keep Running Back

By @slyyywriting

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Skip over my comments if: you don’t reduce, reuse, and recycle

Who it’s for:

The regifter

This person give you things that have obviously been regifted. A “worlds best boss” mug from your relative you see 3 times a year at most? Men’s basketball shorts that don’t fit you with the logo of a sports team you don’t know about? An item that still has a card attached with the original person’s name on it bc they forgot to remove it before re-gifting?

Why it’s the perfect gift:

It’s about things coming back into your life unexpectedly, and how it can be super disruptive and fuck up your routine. But also since it’s Xmas, it has smut and kind of a happy ending. So there, you aren’t being entirely petty (unlike the person that gave you a box of chocolates that expired last year).

The Way Home

By @delaber

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Skip over my comments if: you believe in the curse of “The Scottish Play” (Macb*th)

Who it’s for:

The gift card giver

Steam gift cards, Sephora gift cards, gift cards you can use at like 18 different restaurants or 16 different stores own by the same giant business conglomerate, whatever is vaguely in your interest, there's a gift card for it!!

Now, some people may think this is a boring gift. But it’s basically cash money, so if you find that boring, feel free to send me all your boring currency.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

The person that gives you gift cards is doing you a solid. It's not something you have to worry about returning, or bringing out of storage each time this person visits your house so you can pretend you don't hate it. It's basically unconditional love, just like the reader in the fic has for Bucky.

If Only

By @littlelioncub43

Pairing: Best friend!Jake Jensen x Female!Reader, Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Skip over my comments if: you think Orpheus should suffer for eternity bc he took a teeny tiny little peak behind him

Who it’s for:

The person that already has everything

Can’t get them ANYTHING bc they have it all? Man, if only you were super wealthy maybe you could afford to give them an expensive gift, like some Gucci loafers, or a ticket to Taylor Swift's upcoming tour … oh wait, they already have all that shit.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

Since you are such a considerate person, you want to give them something money can’t buy... an ~experience. And not just any experience, no, you’re going to treat them to something completely new, something they’ve never felt before

So go ahead, gift them this fic and watch their world crumble as they experience angst and despair. You can even emphasis your point by including a festive card with the following season's greetings: This is how it feels when you can't get what you want in life!! When the object of your desires lies just beyond your reach!! This is how us ordinary people feel when we don’t have enough change to afford a little Starbucks treat at the end of the day.

Unsolicited

(ongoing series)

By @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Reader

Skip over my comments if: you are Emily Blunt. I just feel like what I wrote might give you the impression that I’m obsessed with you or something, when really I’m just like your biggest fan.

Who it’s for:

The person that insists on not receiving presents

This is for the smug asshole who thinks they are above material items. The, “I’m just thankful to be healthy and happy” person. The person who acts like there is a special VIP lounge in heaven, with a table reserved just for them, and unlimited bottle service. The person that might actually just be genuinely satisfied with their life... but still, they shouldn't rub it in your face with their radiant happiness and cheerful disposition SMH. Just take the damn gift I didn't want to get you anyway, and give a half-hearted "thanks, I love it" like every other normal unhappy person on autopilot during this time of year.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

"Thankful to be healthy and happy”?? Well, not for much longer dude, bc this isn’t a present. It’s a clever little series that will worm its way into your soul like a Katy Perry pop song, and make you question what you find appealing or attractive in other people. Happy and healthy? More like deeply confused and aroused. Get ready to fight the demons of desire that lurk deep within you.

The Magic Box

By @rustytricycle

Pairing: Dark!Terry the Terrific x Reader

Skip over my comments if: you don’t believe in magic, or you don’t want to find out how David Copperfield does that one trick where he "teleports" like a dozen audience members to Hawaii in 5 minutes

Who it’s for:

The smartass that always manages to guess what the present is before unwrapping it

Why do they insist on doing this shit? MK Ultra has been shut down dude, remote viewing isn't a marketable asset anymore. No one is impressed. No ones enjoys watching you shake, smell, and squint at the box for 10 minutes when we all just want to get this family gathering over with so we can go home and watch Netflix.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

Whether they are actually gifted with ESPN powers, x-ray powers, or being a nosy bitch powers, this magical gift is sure to surprise them. They will never see it coming. Just like the reader in this fic hahaha!

Teacher’s Pet

By @whateveriwant

Pairing: Professor!Bucky Barnes x Student!Reader

Skip over my comments if: you are a university professor who thinks it is reasonable to make your students literally wait WEEKS to get their exams graded, when the grading process is just running those fill in the bubble sheets through a computer

Who it’s for:

The person that gives the gift of “a donation to [insert charity of THEIR choice here ]”

Wow. Maybe this is the relative who has never forgiven you for not going to church anymore after you discovered you had more important things to do with your time, so she gives you a receipt for some missionary project that seems a bit sketchy. Or maybe it's the relative always posting misinformation of facebook, who makes a donation to a political party/politician you do not support in your name. Whatever it is, this is a “charity” or “cause” you would rather not be associated with.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

This isn’t actually a petty move. It’s giving them a sign from the universe (via you), that what they are doing is not cool. I mean, of course you could always confront them directly and have a discussion about it, but that’s not really a gift. Who wants “a conversation” as a holiday gift? No, you are going to send them this delightfully unhinged fic from a burner an email with the subject line: I KNOW WHAT YOU DID. If you want to write anything in the email, it should preferably be in comic sans for the extra touch of je ne sais pas.

And they won’t know what’s happening either! If they respond with ????, don’t answer. Let them wonder if RealFBIagent007@gmail.com sent it to the wrong person, if RealFBIagent007@gmail.com really knows anything incriminating, or if there is an evil doppelgänger out there ruining their reputation.

Candy canes and hot cocoa

(from her “Make it a December to Remember” Christmas series*)

By @imyourbratzdoll

Pairing: Elf!Ransom x Reader

Skip over my comments if: your name starts with “J” and ends with “esus Christ”. Some of my private and confidential communication with my boy Baphomet is included here, and that’s none of your business tbh.

* these are all cute af and you need to read every single one… my other fav elves are Steve and Lee

Who it’s for:

The person that gives the gift of “a donation to [insert charity of YOUR choice here ]”

While your first reaction might be disappointment bc you really wanted that Chanel purse or Valentino gown, after thinking about it, this gift is actually really sweet!!

This person not only knows you well, but they are also helping you curb your addiction to material items. AND they are basically being generous in your name so you don’t have to do it yourself. Wow, they are really racking up those karma points for you!!

Why it’s the perfect gift:

This person deserves the cutest goddamn Christmas fic I have ever had the courage to openly admit I enjoyed (just don’t tell anyone I said that). In fact, your gift might even be better than what they got for you! So don’t forget to tell them that it’s ok, and you appreciate their effort.

On read

By @straywords

Pairing: Stalker! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Skip over my comments if: you are one of those guys who tries to get onlyfans content for free

Who it’s for:

The distant but wealthy family member that always sends a card with a reasonable amount of money inside

Although… I feel like they haven’t really considered the inflated cost of living these days. So maybe it’s time to adjust for that? I mean, get with the times, right? They should consider how your purchasing power could be affected here.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

This one gets kind of spicy but tbh if they are a distant family member it should be ok. Plus they might appreciate it and give you more money next year. Who knows. Or they might come back at you asking for more fic recs and then you can charge a finders fee.

Starting Gate

By @navybrat817brat817

Pairing: Motocross!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Skip over my comments if: you don’t love that I love Nat

Who it’s for:

The generous, well intentioned gift giver that unfortunately gets it wrong, like, every damn time

This is the kind aunt who gets you a nice pair of pearl earrings for your un pierced ears, a cute designer iPhone case for your android (tbh that’s on u for choosing the wrong phone tho… lol jk), a lifetime bark box subscription for your cat, or even a new car with stick shift, when you can only drive an automatic.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

Show them what a thoughtful person (Nat) would really do for their friend. Like, hint hint, next year I expect you to introduce me to my future soulmate, ok??

John the Baptist

By: definitely not me lol who even suggested that get outta here u lying liar

Pairing: Priest!Bucky x no one bc he’s a man of God you fucking perverts

Skip over my comments if: I didn't leave any comments bc I feel like this drabble speaks for itself tbh

Who it’s for:

The “joke” gift giver

We all have (or had) this friend. The one that gives you a family size package of adult diapers, or an enormous bottle of denture cleaning solution, or anything else that is funny when it happens to other people, but not cool when it's your turn to enjoy life - i.e. it sucks that you got them a nice sweater while they got you a package of XS condoms and a bottle of cranberry juice.

Why it’s the perfect gift:

Why not turn the tables this year! Fight humour with humour. Spread the joy! And ok, am I recommending my own “fic”? For the last time, NO! Omg… like seriously who said that? I would NEVER self promote on this most humble of holidays.

For an actual joke of a piece of writing tho, (that was published on a legit platform btw) check out this review of Seb Stan in Picnic from the Hollywood Reporter

Skip over my comments if: you wrote that article and stand by your statements regarding abdominal muscles

Slow Hands

By @heli0s-writes

Pairing: Steve Rogers x his hands x his imagination?

DON’T skip these comments if: you work for the Onion News. Seriously guys, I think I would be at least an average level employed to add to your team.

Who it’s for:

The selfish romantic partner that gets themselves a gift, and then tries to pass it off as a “couples/bonding experience” like you wouldn’t immediately see through that shit

“Babe, I got us tickets to see that sports team I know you couldn’t care less about!! You know, the one that I always ditch you for when they have a game that I want to watch with the guys, even though we already made reservations at a restaurant that’s not Olive Garden for once! This is going to be so much fun for us!! Oh ya, don’t forget to dress hot in case they show us on the kiss cam”

Why it’s the perfect gift:

Now if you’re familiar with this fic I already know what you’re going to say,

“But this is a beautiful masterpiece!!! Why would I allow my inconsiderate jerk of a partner the privilege of reading it??”

Well, first of all, “beautiful masterpiece”? I mean… that’s just YOUR opinion man. (Lol jk it is truly a work of art)

But listen, in the xmas spirit, I think you can find it within yourself to turn the other cheek, and show that even though they might not give a damn about what you enjoy, you’re still going to be gracious, thoughtful, and kind.

Plus your partner will probably need some cheering up after you dump their ass live on national tv when they propose to you with a dollar store ring pop* on the kiss cam. 😘

*lol jk. Nothing against ringpops tbh. I’d take one of those solid lumps of corn syrup and food colouring over a blood diamond any day. In fact, I’d take one over a regular diamond bc engagement rings are one of the biggest marketing scams ever, created by a Machiavellian cartel (*cough* De Beers *cough*) with a monopoly on the market, who purposely restricts supply and creates a false sense of scarcity in order to justify massively inflating the price of these inherently worthless chunks of compressed carbon to ensure profit and distract you from the fact that diamonds are a depreciating asset backed by arbitrary claims of “investment value” that come from the same greedy, lying, fatcats that have poured millions of advertising dollars to convince you that you’re a failure in life if you don’t have or can’t afford to buy a common rock (that’s right, common, plentiful, more numerous in quantity than tickets to the latest TSwift tour) the size of an grotesquely enlarged, genetically modified blueberry.

Thanks for reading! And thanks to all the authors!

& ty @firefly-graphics for the dividers!!

(Except whoever wrote that shitty John the Baptist drabble)

If for whatever reason you feel uncomfortable with having your fic included in this, the holy grail of gift guides, send me a DM along with $300 worth of doge coin haha kidding y’all, I only accept cash.

LOL JK, send me a DM and I will replace the title of your fic AND your @username with 3 emojis of my choice.

[birdstooth]

Inspired by/Based on Fics

(sorted alphabetically by author)

@alwayssunnyinedensgate

SERIES - Be Thee Wolf or Sheep

Masterlist - All shall love me and despair!

SERIES - The Second Mrs. Rogers

Chap 2 - Anything you can do...

Chap 3 - This is Spartaaaa!

Chap 4 - Commit to the Bit

Chap 5 - You got the stuff?

Chap 6 - Dances with butlers

Chap 7 - coming soon!

Chap 8 - HMS Peggy

Chap 9 - coming soon!

@charnelhouse

SERIES - The Grey Man AU

Stop All the Clocks - we found kittens!! (Lloyd, Six)

Late Night Discussions - St. Courtney patron saint of trolls 🙏 (Lloyd, Six)

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor

SERIES - Campus AU

Quick Study - Wolfish + pt 2 + pt 3 (Bucky)

SERIES - Hopelessly Devoted

Chap 1 - Rachel but she's Malibu Barbie/a nice Regina George 

Chap 2 - Andy but he’s a Pomeranian 

SERIES - Hue and Cry

Masterlist - READ IT

Chap 1 - advanced psychological warfare (Bucky)

Chap 9 - kill each other!! (Bucky and Steve) + Heraldry + Medal ceremony

SERIES - One

don't look!! (Steve, Bucky)

SERIES - Resistance

Pt 3 - The Triumvirate (Steve/Tony/Bucky) + NEW crew member lmao

SERIES - Unexpected

Animal Crossing Crossdressing

SERIES - Unsolicited

Chap 26 - Humpty Dumpty Allegory? (Lloyd but he’s an egg)

Chap 30 - I’M GONNA BOP YOU feral dog.gif

SERIES - Who's the Boss

Asks/Headcanons:

Lloydlander

Suzanne, defender of interns (kind of)

Bonnie and Clyde CLloyd

Who's the (Cake) Boss

Elle Woods aesthetic

Gotta love Craigslist 

Chap 1 - Americano for GABRIELLE

Chap 17 - spiritual heaven equivalent of your choice ft. bunnies

@delaber

To Let You Win - Bucky with “training weapons”

Saturday Mornings - marginally related doodle (Bucky)

A Date - dates are the #1 cause of 70% of global warming (Borky)

Warrior/Worrier - Hallmark's top sellers

@georgiapeach30513

SERIES - All or Nothing 

This story hasn’t been written yet but we’ve already chosen sides lol

Definitely not the plot but also maybe bc anything is possible

SERIES - Closer to Heaven and Closer to You

Pt 2 - A BULL TELLING YOU A JOKE ABOUT BULLS 

Pt 3 - How Bucky gets his robo arm

Pt 5 - BUNNY & CLYDE + coloured version

Pt. 7 - everything everywhere all at once

SERIES - Stained Like Georgia Clay 

Masterlist - THE MOVIE POSTER (Mr. Peanut, Bumblebezo$, Loretta, Hal)

Chap 5 - Loretta but she's Tom Sawyer (Loretta, Hal, various sheep)

Chap 11 - Loretta gets ONE (1) bacon + alternate scene (Bumblebezo$, Loretta, Hal)

Chap 14 - Captain Wayton Toe & First Mate Loretta 🏴‍☠️ (REDACTED for spoilers, Loretta)

OTHER

Jan 2023 Masterlist - just a St. Bernard sleeping :)

@heli0s-writes

SERIES - A History of Touch

Midnight City - RIP caterpie (Steve)

@imyourbratzdoll

My Pearl - Jewlery heist (Ari, ft. special guest Princess ARIEL)

Drabbles

female character x reader

@lloydsbitch

SERIES - Secret Sierra

Chap 10 - "my two dads"

@navybrat817

The Truth Will Set You Free - dress rehearsal (Nick Fowler, Max Burnett)

Follow You Home - you forgot your Rose! (Bucky x reader)

@rustytricycle

SERIES - The Lion's Mouth

Chap XV - Right now, right now? (Peter Parker) + Idiot Sandwich (Suzanne and Lloyd)

Chap XVI - Poor Suzanne lol (Suzanne and Lloyd)

@secretswiftymarvelfan

His One Weakness - Lloyd vs a spider 

SERIES - Memory Served

What's in a name?

Part 1 - Ransom vs doggos

Part 4 - surprise cameo

@slyyywriting

SERIES - F1 Series

Oversteer (Bucky x trainer!reader)

@straywords

Drabbles

Best Friend! Bucky x Avenger! Reader

Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader x Bucky Barnes

@thenhewaswrongaboutme

SERIES - Your Hands Have Made Some Good Mistakes

Chap 25 - Steve eats a yucky appetizer :(

Epilogue - she wants to order (Bucky)

Barbed Wire & Bare Hands (blurb) - No Steeb, only us!!

SERIES - Northbound & Reaching

Spring Chicken (blurb) - good job buddy!!

SERIES - After You, Hell Should Be Easy

Chap 1 - surveillance time lapse (Winter Soldier)

Build-a-Bucky

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[douglysium]

The Investigative Archives of Ana Otto: Investigation 101- Snowed In

Statement regarding investigation 101 for client Juliette Angelo in regards to a possible forced entry and potential malicious destruction of property. The statement by Juliette Angelo is being played via recording. The investigation is being led by private detective Ana Otto near Atlanta, Georgia in the U.S.A., and the transcripts are written by Nancy Otto. The date is January 1st, 2015. This investigative statement contains themes of claustrophobia that one may find disconcerting. Investigation begins.

Juliette Angelo- I need your help. Everyone thinks I flooded the Mcnamara’s house but I swear it wasn’t me and everyone is so angry and I don’t have the money to fix this and… Okay, okay, okay, calm down. I need to start from the beginning. I was hired to do a bit of house-sitting right? No big deal, I’ve done it before many times for many different clients, and the Mcnamara’s only trust me enough to take care of their house while they're gone. I’m one of their childhood friends. They were particularly concerned because they were afraid that the cold winter might lead to some pipes bursting, so they wanted me to check on the house and prevent it from happening if possible. I still remember that morning. It was snowing, just enough to be beautiful and capture that leftover holiday spirit but not enough to cause absolutely atrocious traffic or close down the roads with streets of disgusting icy slurry. It was perfect. I drove from my house to the Mcnamara’s and on their front lawn there was an unusual amount of snow. Every other place in the neighborhood had only a couple of centimeters at most but the snow on the Mcnamara’s lawn was at least a foot or two tall. Maybe about a foot and a half if I had to say? The massive tree in their backyard stood as unnaturally tall as ever though. But what really caught my attention was the mud… In the yard, there were these snow angels, right? But they were disgustingly muddy. Where the imprint should have been clean and white snow it was a slurry stained with mud. I didn’t think too much of it originally and I assumed it was just some neighborhood kids having a good laugh. But looking back on it I realized something was off about them. There were no footprints leading to or from the angels. Which is super SUPER weird when you consider all the mud. Whoever made them went out of their way to cover their tracks for some reason. But going through all that effort to cover up making a couple of dirty snow angels seems well… stupid. I know this is about to sound absolutely stupid but it's almost as if the angels… spawned… or like grew from where they were? It’s whatever. Anyway, I made my way to the house and decided to take a step in the nice snow, y’know to hear the satisfying snowy crunch and all that though. My foot went through the snow and under it was an absurd amount of wet clay that stuck to my boots like glue. I assumed that maybe the Mcnamara’s grass had died from the cold and snow. But that wouldn’t explain why I didn’t see any remains of grass at all, like not even a loose blade or two. I went inside and I tried to wipe the clay off my boot but most of it just wouldn’t come off no matter how hard I tried. So I decided to just take them off in order to avoid tracking dirt into their house. The house was freezing cold so I turned on the heater and went about my normal duties. Y’know, watering the plants, feeding their parrot, checking the pipes, etc. etc… 

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

warnings: implied domestic violence, WARNING ANGST AHEAD (sorry... kinda) Sometimes it seemed materialize out of the humid air. It didn’t seem to matter if Daryl was focused on some task or sitting still in a quiet moment. It would land heavy on his chest and suddenly he just couldn’t breathe anymore. * * *  “What are ya doin’?” Daryl asked urgently, finally having caught up to you in the dim light of dawn. Your hand was already on the handle of the gate to push out beyond the walls. “Where the hell are ya goin’?” Despite the heavy shadows that still blanketed the prison and beyond, he could easily see the bruising on your face. You looked back at him at the sound of his voice, your expression wide-eyed and a little desperate. “If I don’t leave now, I will never get away.” “That ain’t—don’t do this. This ain’t the solution. I told ya, he don’t deserve to be here. It’s him that needs to be gone not you. Rick’ll agree, just lemme talk to him and it’ll be—,” Daryl urged.  You gave him a small, doleful smile. “I—That would be like killing him.” Daryl stared at you, his jaw clenching. “So? What that asshole has done to ya—” “I just can’t. Okay? I know you won’t understand.” You finally released your light grip on the gate handle and turned back to face him wholly. Your eyes looked a little misty and Daryl felt as if his heart had sunk to the depths of six feet under the Georgia clay beneath his boots. You gently reached out and gripped the edge of his jacket, tugging on it lightly. “You’re the best thing about this place,” you said. Your voice was a little strangled from the emotion you were fighting. “Promise me you’ll stay safe.” Daryl felt an obstruction between his lungs. He struggled for a moment to fight the urge to argue with you again, before he finally nodded. “You too. And if ya change yer mind—” You nodded. “I know.” You hesitated only a moment more before the tears broke out from your eyes and rolled down your cheeks. You stood on your toes and launched yourself at him, looping your arms around his neck and hugging him as tightly as you could. That just about broke the archer completely. He pressed his hands to your back, holding you against him for what would never have felt like long enough, until finally you tore yourself away and hastily wiped the tear stains from your cheeks. You turned back to the gate, and pushed out into the world beyond the prison fences. That last Daryl saw of you was the olive green of your pack slipping away under the trees, blending into shadow. His fingers gripped the chainlink fence so tightly the metal cut into them. He should have told you—maybe then you would have stayed... * * *  Now, it had slammed into him full force as he rode his bike, affecting him so weightily that he had to pull over and try to breathe. You were still on his mind, every minute of every day, everywhere he went. He looked for any signs of you with each step. He had nightmares about some dead walker version of you wandering into his path. He inspected every new supply, every piece of gear he collected just in case it had passed through your hands. And he searched for you, almost aimlessly, wandering out beyond safety desperately, hoping with each new day that today would be the day he’d catch wind of you, some glimpse. Despite the passing of the years, despite everything that had happened, he loved you just as much as he had the day he stupidly let you walk away. Prompt: “If I don’t leave now, I will never get away.”

[tahthetrickster]

His Feet Stained Red (1.2k)

an old experimental OC short from 3 or so years ago that tumblr apparently ate so now i have to repost it. love a hellsite

x

There's something about a summer evening in the backwoods of Georgia that makes a man want to settle up.

Maybe it's the nights out on the back porch, watching the neighbor kids running 'round in bare feet with Mason jars in their hands to fetch lightning bugs, admiring them at home for a night or two before they die in the jar. Maybe it's the dull, constant hum of the zapper by the porch swing, flaring up as the swarms of summertime moths take their annual Icarian flight into the light. Maybe it's the return of the little local church's Backyard Bible Clubs, the kids dusting graham cracker crumbs off sticky lips and chubby hands and finishing out the Lord's Supper with thimble-sized cups of Welch's Grape Juice.

If you asked me, I'd tell you it's the way the summer heat crashes over you when you walk out your back door, washing over every inch of bared skin in an instant. It's reminiscent of when Brother Aubrey's wife—God rest her soul—would bake bread in the cramped church kitchen, tossing a cup of water into the oven base, scalding steam curling around her bony white fingers as she shut it up again. It's the way the air itself settles on you, heavy as anything, scorching and sticky with humidity, making even drawing your breath a struggle for all the moisture. “Air you can wear,” my granny used to call it years past.

It only takes one Sunday evening of sweating through your sundress in the rickety old pews, fervently fanning yourself with your tithing envelope and cursing the busted window unit, to realize that you don't never wanna go somewhere that's hotter than this.

I reckon that's why folks are more pleasant in the summertime down here in the back end of nowhere. More willing to lend you a hand tool, or offer up a glass of sweet tea in exchange for some help out in the yard. More liable to show up to church on time, filling out the back pews but for the few aging deacons who still took the front.

More liable to try damn near anything they could to make sure they were well-respected in town. I reckon they figured it would transfer over in the end. Still not sure where on God's green earth they got that idea from. I sure don't remember my daddy ever reading that passage in the old leather-bound red-letter.

I reckon that's the reason he came up every summer. Wasn't no exception this year.

He always came up from the road that led down to the swamps, his bare feet stained red from the ruts dug into the old clay dirt road he walked on. My house—my daddy's house, before he passed some years back, God bless him—was the furthest one down that road. I suppose that's why I always saw him before anybody else did. I suppose that's why I never had much to discuss with him.

It was always an unspoken rule growing up in my daddy's house. Don't say nothing to nobody that comes up the road from the swamp if you ain't seen 'em go down into the swamp first.

He was black as night but for his feet stained red, and didn't ever have a scrap of cloth on him. If you weren't looking out for him, you might never even see him in the pitch black of the evening.

"Evening, ma'am," he called up to me as he approached. I nodded politely, leaning over the arm of the wooden rocking chair to spit into the brass jug on the floor. He stepped into the circle of my porch light and grinned up at me. Were it not for his bright white teeth and eyes the color of Georgia red clay, he'd've looked like a man-shaped hole cut out of the air. "Nice night, innit?"

I reached over to flick a spent cicada husk from the porch railing. "Yessir." I watched him for a moment, mulling over the pinch of dip held under my lip. "Hot as the Devil's own, though."

That made him throw his head back and laugh, revealing a blood-red tongue that came to a point in a mouth the color of tar. "I'm looking for work," he professed at last, still staring, still grinning. "You know how hard it is to find work these days. Reckon I could help you out some kinda way? I can do nearbout anything you need."

For an instant it seemed that the whole world went mute from the sheer intent in his voice.

"Sir." I paused for a moment, running my tongue over the packed dip thoughtfully, the only sound besides the cicadas and the nearby bullfrog the soft creak of my rocking chair on the wooden porch floor. I spat into the jug again. "Can't say that I want for much of anything, I'm afraid." I nodded at the porch stairs. "Why don't you sit a spell? Too damn hot to do much anything. Hottest damn night we've had in a while."

His smile vanished for a moment.

When it returned, it was sharper, an unnatural slant to the sides of his mouth. "You know, I believe I will."

He said nothing when he sat on the steps, simply watching me and grinning with that too-fake smile of his. I didn't say nothing neither, leaning back in my chair to enjoy a mild breeze brushing against my flushed skin. My nearest neighbor was still nearly a mile and a half back, as the crow flies, but if I strained my ears against the sounds of the evening, I could just hear the staticky twang of that old country radio station she liked to play at all hours on the wind.

I spat again. "You take dip, sir?" I was already packing the tin against my knee.

His eyes nearly glowed as I held out the open tin. The pinch he took seemed far too big, but he packed it under his lip expertly anyway and grinned broadly up at me. "For the road, then." And he stood again, far taller than he appeared to have stood before.

"Best walk on home," I advised, leaning back in my chair. "Past the witching hour now. Haints might be out to get you."

He laughed again, a jittering, hooting sound, and stooped to spit in the jug. "Soon, soon, soon. I still gotta get somebody willing to barter some work with me. Got any neighbors you wouldn’t mind pointin’ me towards?" I held his gaze evenly as I spat again. He grinned up at me, wide and feral, teeth stained with tobacco. "You're a saint, ma'am."

I waved him off. "Just as much a sinner as the rest of us." I ran my tongue over my dip again, watching him carefully. "Some of us more’n others."

He hooted with delighted laughter, thanked me again, and went off down the road, heading on his usual pilgrimage down the old dirt street towards town, his feet stained red in the night, leaving no sign he’d ever been by but for the shallow cloven prints in the Georgia red clay.

[zumpietoo]

At the top of the heap of people whose names shall live in infamy are GOP Senators Josh Hawley and Ted Cruz, who led the coup in the Senate to overturn the will of the people. After the fires started burning, Ted Cruz very poorly paid lip service to trying to cool things down, after he had helped commit the arson. Hawley could hardly be bothered to do that. Those two garbage fascists were joined in objections to Arizona and/or Pennsylvania by Tommy Tuberville, Roger Marshall, John Kennedy, Rick Scott, brand new Wyoming Senator Cynthia Lummis, and Cindy Hyde-Smith. Let the record show that these people went ahead and kept up their objections even after the US Capitol building was attacked by domestic terrorists they and their shithole Dear Leader had incited. In the Senate, it was only those assholes. In the House, though? Holy shit. They objected to Arizona and somehow even more of them voted to sustain the objection to Pennsylvania in the wee hours of Wednesday morning, as if yesterday's terrorism put a spring in their step, as if the blood in the hallways of the Capitol gave them sustenance. Again, all of this was after the terrorist attack. And in the House it wasn't just Arizona and Pennsylvania either. Reps like Louie Gohmert stood up to object to other states too, even though the GOP senators who had originally planned to support those challenges had put down their guns and agreed to end the standoff peacefully. (It was particularly pleasing to watch Vice President Mike Pence glare at Gohmert, who just got finished unsuccessfully suing Pence to make him overturn the election, and tell him his objection to the electors in Wisconsin "MAY NOT BE ENTERTAINED," since he couldn't get even the Senate's dumbest Republican Ron Johnson to sign his treason permission slip anymore.) Overall, 139 House GOP members voted to object to the electors from Arizona and/or Pennsylvania. These are their names. They should not be allowed around your children, you should kick them out of your chicken restaurant, and they should always and forevermore be referred to as seditious traitors to democracy in the United States of America. They really should be expelled from Congress. They're listed by state, to make it helpful for people to know which chicken restaurants to ban them from, specifically. Alabama 1. Robert Aderholt 2. Mo Brooks 3. Jerry Carl 4. Barry Moore 5. Gary Palmer 6. Mike Rogers Arizona 7. Andy Biggs 8. Paul Gosar 9. Debbie Lesko 10. David Schweikert Arkansas 11. Rick Crawford California 12. Ken Calvert 13. Mike Garcia 14. Darrell Issa 15. Doug LaMalfa 16. Kevin McCarthy 17. Devin Nunes 18. Jay Obernolte Colorado 19. Lauren Boebert 20. Doug Lamborn Florida 21. Kat Cammack 22. Mario Diaz-Balart 23. Byron Donalds 24. Neal Dunn 25. Scott Franklin 26. Matt Gaetz 27. Carlos Jimenez 28. Brian Mast 29. Bill Posey 30. John Rutherford 31. Greg Steube 32. Daniel Webster Georgia 33. Rick Allen 34. Earl "Buddy" Carter 35. Andrew Clyde 36. Marjorie Taylor Greene 37. Jody Hice 38. Barry Loudermilik Idaho 39. Russ Fulcher Illinois 40. Mike Bost 41. Mary Miller Indiana 42. Jim Baird 43. Jim Banks 44. Greg Pence 45. Jackie Walorski Kansas 46. Ron Estes 47. Jacob LaTurner 48. Tracey Mann Kentucky 49. Harold Rogers Louisiana 50. Garret Graves 51. Clay Higgins 52. Mike Johnson 53. Steve Scalise Maryland 54. Andy Harris Michigan 55. Jack Bergman 56. Lisa McClain 57. Tim Walberg Minnesota 58. Michelle Fischbach 59. Jim Hagedorn Mississippi 60. Michael Guest 61. Trent Kelly 62. Steven Palazzo Missouri 63. Sam Graves 64. Vicky Hartzler 65. Billy Long 66. Blaine Luetkemeyer 67. Jason Smith Montana 68. Matt Rosendale North Carolina 69. Dan Bishop 70. Ted Budd 71. Madison Cawthorn 72. Virginia Foxx 73. Richard Hudson 74. Gregory Murphy 75. David Rouzer New Jersey 76. Jeff Van Drew New Mexico 77. Yvette Harrell New York 78. Chris Jacobs 79. Nicole Malliotakis 80. Elise Stefanik 81. Lee Zeldin Nebraska 82. Adrian Smith Ohio 83. Steve Chabot 84. Warren Davidson 85. Bob Gibbs 86. Bill Johnson 87. Jim Jordan Oklahoma 88. Stephanie Hice 89. Tom Cole 90. Kevin Hern 91. Frank Lucas 92. Markwayne Mullin Oregon 93. Cliff Bentz Pennsylvania 94. John Joyce 95. Fred Keller 96. Mike Kelly 97. Daniel Meuser 98. Scott Perry 99. Guy Reschenthaler 100. Lloyd Smucker 101. Glenn Thompson South Carolina 102. Jeff Duncan 103. Ralph Norman 104. Tom Rice 105. William Timmons 106. Joe Wilson Tennessee 107. Tim Burchett 108. Scott DesJarlais 109. Chuck Fleischmann 110. Mark Green 111. Diana Harshbarger 112. David Kustoff 113. John Rose Texas 114. Jodey Arrington 115. Brian Babin 116. Michael Burgess 117. John Carter 118. Michael Cloud 119. Pat Fallon 120. Louie Gohmert 121. Lance Gooden 122. Ronny Jackson 123. Troy Nehls 124. August Pfluger 125. Pete Sessions 126. Beth Van Duyne 127. Randy Weber 128. Roger Williams 129. Ron Wright Utah 130. Burgess Owens 131. Chris Stewart Virginia 132. Ben Cline 133. Bob Good 134. Morgan Griffith 135. Robert Wittman West Virginia 136. Carol Miller 137. Alexander Mooney Wisconsin 138. Scott Fitzgerald 139. Tom Tiffany These are the people who either incited yesterday's attackers, gave them aid and comfort as terrorist sympathizers, or both.

https://www.wonkette.com/here-are-all-147-members-of-the-terrorist-inciting-gop-sedition-caucus-may-their-names-forever-be-stained

[baywrites]

Clean slate

By: Bay Wright

I numb myself to freeze the pain, But it stays Tormenting me inside my brain. I can taste, The way you looked the other way on that day, I took a shot at a love that ran away.

Now the sunshine is cold like freezing rainAnd my eyes are stained by the beauty of her face. Looking back I wouldn’t take it any other way, I’d rather see her go than love me for a day.

What else can I say, I’m a lover who falls for leavers, the seasons may change but my heart stays blue. I always fall way to fast for girls like you.

Girls that look like Carolina hills on a spring day, girls that stain my mind like Georgia clay, Girls that coast through life like California waves, have always been the quickest to push me away.

You would think by now I would’ve learned but I haven’t changed. To me hiding how I feel is like swallowing pain. Rejection fucking hurts but atleast I can say, I put my love on a scale for her to weigh.

I’d rather swallow rejection than regret never confessing, my affection toward a girl who changed my hearts direction. I know Beauty is in perception and I’m slowly learning lessons, About how our imperfections can be blessings everyday.

So what you lose some, who cares if they don’t feel the same way, one day I’m going to find a girl that was worth the wait. I’m going to find me a lover to clean my slate.

[areiton]

beyond sense & reason - ironhusbands

READ ON AO3 

~* ~

You love two things, beyond reason and sense, a deep abiding love that fills you up and shapes you. 

It’s different from the love you have for your family, that warm constant thing that grounds you, holds the warm clay of you and crafts you. That is the bedrock and base, who you are, in your heart, a gift from your mother and father and sister. 

That is different. 

These--these you chose, and you didn’t. You don’t remember choosing, is the thing, you only know you have loved them both, madly, fiercely, endlessly. 

~*~ 

Your daddy takes you to a Air Fest, one summer you visit your uncle in Georgia. The air is thick and muggy, the heat almost unbearable but the planes--the planes are brilliantly beautiful, sleek and powerful and you watch, skin burning and mouth dry, so hot you drench your thin tshirt, and you can’t look away, not from the showy flyboys making those pretty birds dance, not when they spiral so high you squint to see them in the glare of the sun, not when the crowds gasp as the plunge back to the earth. 

You watch them, beautiful and daring and you ache, because you want and you fall in love. 

~*~ 

You meet him in your lab class. He’s so small you don’t even notice him at the table until you’re already clearly headed toward it and his eyes are huge and scared, but trying not to be. He looks at you like he knows you want to turn back, walk away, like he’s ready for that rejection--and you keep walking, drop yourself down on the stool next to him and give the kid a smile you don’t feel yet. 

He smiles, small and sweet, and you don’t know yet, what that smile means. 

You don’t know yet, that it’s precious and rare, that Tony smiles at the world a thousand ways, but he smiles like this for only a few people, and you are one of them. 

You don’t know yet. 

You smile at him and you offer your hand. “James,” you say, and he shakes it shyly as the professor comes in. 

“The person sharing your lab table is your partner for the semester,” he shouts, and Tony’s hand twitches in yours, instinctively jerking away. You tighten your grip, hold him still, steady, and grin.

“Looks like it’s me and you, kid.” 

~*~ 

Tony listens when you ramble about flying, and he never says, it’s ridiculous. 

He never says, a poor black kid from Philly will never scrape his wings against the blue. 

He never says you’re chasing a pipe dream. He smiles at you, wide-eyed and sweet, and full of belief when he says you’ll be the best fuckin’ pilot the Air Force has. 

You laugh, pleased, shove at him a little. “Language, kid. Mama’d skin me alive, she heard you talkin’ like that.” 

~*~ 

You listen to him chatter, the low background hum of his muttering filling up the soundtrack of your life, and you don’t know when you fall in love with him. 

Maybe in that damn lab class when he grinned, tiny in his safety goggles and mad hatter smile. 

Maybe in the labs after hours, hair spiky and fingers shaking and rewriting the world you think you know. 

Maybe when he smiles at you, small and sweet, when you drag him with you to parent’s weekend, or when you fall asleep watching Top Gun and wake up with him drooling on your shirt, or when he takes you to the Stark Industries plant a few hours from MIT, and shows you the sleek stealth jets they’re building. 

Maybe the first time he looks at you and calls you Rhodey, as easy and sweet as Mama calling Daddy sweetheart. 

You don’t know when you fall in love with him. 

You only know you do. 

~*~ 

Loving him feels like flying. 

~*~ 

You kiss him in your dorm, lick the taste of him from his mouth and promise to come home soon, and you leave him there, in your too big sweater and a too big smile, and you carry that with you--the sight of him, the scent he left on your clothes, the taste of him. 

“Did you hear about Lewis?” 

You glance at Patricks, at the way he looks a little bit fascinated, a little bit disgusted, and you arch an eyebrow, benignly curious. 

“They kicked him out. He’s got himself a boyfriend. ”

It’s a bucket of ice water down your back. 

Because there is this. 

There is the taste of Tony on your lips, and the scent of jet fuel in the air, and you realize, stomach churning and abrupt, that you cannot have them both. 

~*~ 

You love two things, beyond reason and sense, a deep abiding love that fills you up and shapes you.  

You never imagined one would cost you the other. 

~*~ 

He’s sleeping, small and peaceful in your bed, and you want to curl around him, want to kiss him and hold him and pretend that you can keep them both--Tony and your wings. 

You think of Lewis, and the stain of a dishonorable discharge. You think of the planes that you love and the way that Tony’s eyes brighten when he sees you. 

You think of your Mama calling Daddy sweetheart and the hungry stare in Daddy’s eyes when he watched those planes with you. 

You leave him there, sleeping, and when you bring Carol home a few days later, her lipstick smeared on your collar, you don’t meet Tony’s stricken gaze. 

~*~ 

You keep the skies and your secrets. 

You lose that smile, the small sweet smile that you love, and you lose his touch, careless and free, the weight of his body against yours in the dark with a movie playing. 

You keep the skies and you keep this secret--you love him still. 

~*~ 

You never lose Tony. 

There’s a withdrawal, a dimming of the light that makes him so damn bright--but he’s still in front of you, still at your side, still reaching out, hesitant and shy, but hopeful. 

You always reach back. 

You hate the girls he fucks, the boys who parade through your room, and hate yourself more, because you did this. You drove him away.

Sometimes, you see the way he watches you, hopeful and defiant. You always look away. 

~*~ 

Once, just before you graduate, you wake up to the sound of fucking. You’re sprawled on the couch, and you can hear the deep rumble of a male voice and Tony, his delicious little gasp that even after almost a year--you can still hear echoing in your dreams. 

You can see them. 

A big body braced behind Tony, whose face is creased in pleasure, his mouth open and slack. His cock hangs heavy and hard between his legs and you want it in your mouth. 

You don’t move. You don’t even breathe. 

But he blinks, heavy and dazed, and finds you in the dark. 

He comes, untouched, filled up with another man’s cock, staring at you like you hung the moon. 

~*~ 

Tony is there, when you graduate and he’s there when you accept your commission, and he’s there, celebrating, when you're given orders that mean you can fly.  

He’s there, lips red and grinning, and untouchable because he isn’t yours, won’t ever be yours--but he's still at your side. 

You think it’s enough. 

~*~ 

You are there, when he turns on DUM-E, and you're there when Sunset breaks his heart, and you're there, holding him, when his parents die and he is all alone. 

You're there, and maybe you aren't the love of his life, maybe you will never be his but you are still at his side. 

~*~ 

Sometimes, when you’re deployed, you think you no longer love him. That you have settled into friendship. 

You aren’t. You come back and Tony is there, larger than life, heartbreakingly beautiful, smiling at you and it’s not the same smile he gave you in college, the one that is small and sweet--this smile is wide and teasing, begging you to laugh with him. 

You do. Because you love him, and every time you come home and see him waiting--you remember. 

~*~ 

Afghanistan happens and you love him. You risk your wings, your career, you risk everything to find him, to bring him home, and a cave blows up in the desert, and you almost collapse, because you know . 

You fall out of the chopper and drag him into your arms and you love him. 

~*~ 

Obadiah rips his heart from him, and he tells the world he’s a superhero, and you love him. 

He pushes you away and falls in love with Pepper, and you love him. 

You find out he’s dying and fight at his back, and you love him. 

You fly the suit he gave you, stand with him as a hero, and you love him.  

~*~ 

You love two things, beyond reason and sense, a deep abiding love that fills you up and shapes you. 

~*~ 

Tony calls you, while you fly a plane in Afghanistan, and he flies a nuke into a hole in the sky and for the first time in over twenty years, your uniform chafes. 

You find out after, when it’s done, when you’ve completed a routine mission and the hole in the sky has closed, and you hear his voice, crackling and breaking. 

“I love you, Rhodeybear. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sor--”

~*~ 

He never mentions it. You wait, and hope, and he smiles at you, wide and teasing, kisses Pepper gentle and sweet. He introduces you to the Avengers, to Captain America and all the others, and you smile and wait and he never mentions it. 

~*~ 

The Mandarian happens, and you fight at his side, where you belong, and you love him. 

Ultron happens and JARVIS dies, and you hold him when he sobs, and you love him. 

Pepper leaves, and Steve leaves, and Bruce leaves, and you love him. 

~*~ 

You fall from the sky, and he screams, his voice the last thing you hear before the black takes you and you have loved the sky and you have loved him, and you can feel your heart pounding, too hard, a curious peace filling you up, because you have loved two things, beyond reason and sense, always. 

You fall from the sky. 

~*~ 

Tony stares at you, dark eyed and guilty. “I’m going to fix this,” he tells you. You don’t tell him he can’t. You don’t tell him that it’s over. 

You are broken. You’ll never walk, you’ll never fly. 

He squeezes your hand, and you don’t tell him that you don’t even mind. 

~*~ 

You love him. You have loved him for over thirty years. And you chose the sky, chose your wings. 

You want to choose him, finally. 

~*~ 

He builds you braces, because he’s Tony fucking Stark and little things like medical conventions and impossibilities aren’t going to stop him. 

You walk in them, stumbling, his familiar body holding you up, and you run in them, while he watches, sharp-eyed and pleased, and you know, you know you can fly in them. 

You have loved two things, beyond reason and sense, and you turned away from him once, for the sky and your wings, and you think--only Tony would give you back the thing that you have loved as much as you love him. 

The Brass nudges you and you watch him watch you and make your decision. 

~*~ 

The armor is familiar and comforting around you, and Tony is close, at your side where he belongs, and you say, “You remember that time you called me?” 

Tony goes still, impossibly still, the way that he never is anymore. You remember him, small and still and shy in college and the stillness in him when you brought Carol home, and the way he was still in your arms in that damn desert. 

“I love you too, peacock,” you say, softly. “Always have. And all of that--” you wave at the sky, the only thing that has ever captured your heart as much as he has. “It’s not worth losing you again.” 

He’s staring at you, and he’s smiling, small and sweet, your smile, and you lean down, and kiss that smile again, finally. 

He trembles for you, and your heart aches, a familiar hurt. 

You inhale, sunshine and blue sky, and the taste of him. 

~*~ 

You love two things, beyond reason and sense, a deep abiding love that fills you up and shapes you. 

You love flying, the weightless freedom, the wind whistling and the sky forever. 

You love Tony, brilliant and beautiful and so damn perfect it makes you hurt. 

You love two things, beyond reason and sense, a deep enduring love. You never dreamed that choosing one would cost you the other. 

You never dreamed that loving one would give you both. 

[0tsxl]

Q&A!

What's your favorite Anime?

Houseki no Kuni, Karakai Jozu No Takagi San, Tokyo Mew Mew

Favorite Artists?

Daycolors, Rebecca Sugar, h0nk

Favorite writers?

Phantomrose96, sinderella0069, TheRegularWriter, Platon, GlassHawk, Watcheronthewall2

Gender?

Female

Sexuality?

I'm not sure yet

Hobbies?

Drawing, writing, making clay things, reading, animating

Favorite color?

Turquoise

Favorite Show?

Steven Universe

Any Fandoms besides SU?

Undertale/deltarune, Warrior Cats, Pokemon

Any ships besides Stevidot?

None I'm as passionate about, but I appreciate Pearlmethyst and Larzuli

Wierd fact?

I was born with a port wine stain. It's basically a birthmark, but it can get embarrassing at times, like when I'm exhausted or flustered, it turns red. I get teased at school about it sometimes.

Fun fact?

Up until two months ago I was a national level Synchronized Swimmer. I am taking up Figure Skating now though.

Favorite games?

OSU!, Geometry Dash, Arcea

Favorite songs?

Little numbers, Life Letters, Liquescimus, they fluctuate a lot.

Have you written any FanFics?

Yes, but they both lack the proper, well, everything!

Do you cosplay?

Yep! I'm currently working on Peridot's new form and will be cosplaying as her at Wondercon this March.

Can we have a face reveal?

Nope! :)

Hours of sleep?

4-7. It kinda fluctuates with my schedule.

Any friends?

About 4

Any pets?

I have four cats and two dogs. Their names are Mario, Luigi, Bubo, Georgia, Ned, and Willow.

Talents?

I can do the splits!

When did you start drawing?

When I was very young.

What program do you use to draw?

Framecast

Thanks for reading everyone!

If you have any other questions for me, feel free to ask!

Have a nice day!

-Snowy

[georgiapeach30513]

Stained Like Georgia Clay Masterlist

There’s nothing sweeter than summertime, peaches, honey, sweet tea, falling in love add in the loss of your innocence.  Will the first love be enough to withstand a tornado and a tragedy?  Or just like the changing of the seasons does it wither away and make room for something new?

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16 ⭐COMPLETE⭐

A/N:  this fic will have themes of loss of innocence, age gap, secret love affairs, and death of a character.  Reader warnings before each chapter, and minors DNI!

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics​

[animelife58-blog]

Best Carpet Scrub & Cleaner 2019

You Have the Ability to rent a Carpet Cleaner in the Local Hardware-store, Yet, in Case You Purchase a busy family Working Using a Lot of CarpetingYou Might Wish to Invest in One Single at Place of

As little because it is somewhat likely to receive just one of many free best celebrities in Consumer Reports' most up to date rug cleaner tests. Take be aware that these machines are mighty--quite hefty. The top readily removes embedded dirt and stains as much as getting an agenda of plain water that is combined with a spoonful of carpets inviting.

Before deciding a variant, only take stock with this particular area you are planning to be more cleanup. If your house is within merely a one-story house, you cannot expect a variant with a hose that is pretty.

You can see my more article here: best carpet cleaner

"On flip side, when you've wrought iron stairs, you then would like to have a carpet cleaner that follows a hose that's extended, which contrasts for there is somewhere to get there at the steps upward," says Larry Ciufo, which oversees Consumer Reports' carpet cleaner tests. "you not Want to put the cleaner into high step and yank on the nozzle once You're cleaning, as the gear could float the Subsequent measures"

Ciufo also urges you to take into account storage and storage distance, and hunt for components with attachments which meet your requirements. "in case you'd like to scrub your furniture then begin trying to find a carpet cleaner with

a brush that isn't hard to disperse around cracks and wash fabric," he says.

Bear in mind that carpet cleaning is dumb; some are so loudly we advocate wearing hearing protection. And also you don't buy by trade. On your tests, we found enormous differences in 1 variant right into another site.

How We Test Carpet Cleaning It needs three days to place inch carpet cleaner throughout the whole period of our battery life span of cleaning-performance tests. Our engineer's property huge swatches of off-white nylon carpets using red Georgia clay. We run a cleaner over the carpet for four wet and four dry bikes, mimicking the manner in which you had to wash an especially filthy placed on well-trafficked carpeting. Then we replicate that the test two swatches.

Our experts use a cyclometer,  

something which measures the absorption of medium wavelengths, to take 60 readings of every carpet swatch: 20 inside a particular"virgin" state, 20 once which has been soiled, also 20 after that is washed. The entire amount all around? One hundred eighty readings every technique.

[ninjaoperator-blog]

Best Carpet Cleaners of 2019

You Can rent a Rug cleaner at the Neighborhood hardware store, and however, if You buy a busy family Working with a Great Deal of Carpeting, you Could Want to Spend in One in the Place of

As modest since it's very likely to get one of several absolute top actors in Consumer Reports' many up-to-date carpet cleaner evaluations. Please note these machines are powerful--rather hefty. The absolute top readily removes embedded stains and dirt without as much as earning a plan of water that's plain along to some spoonful of carpeting inviting.

Before settling on a version, take stock on this specific area you're about to be cleaning. If your home is in just a one-story house, you can not anticipate a version with a fairly hose.

"On reverse side, once you've wrought iron staircase,                                     then you desire to get yourself a rug cleaner which accompanies a hose that is lengthy, and that translates to you have a place to arrive at the steps upwards," says Larry Ciufo, that manages Consumer Reports' rug cleaner evaluations. "you never desire to place the cleaner to high step and yank the nozzle once Are cleaning, because the equipment could float down the following steps"

Ciufo also urges one to consider storage and space,                                       and search for components using attachments that satisfy your requirements. "in case you'd like to wash your furniture then begin looking for a rug cleaner using a brush which is not tough to spread around wash and cracks fabric," he states.  

see more about : best carpet cleaner

Remember that carpet-cleaning are idiotic; a few are so loud we urge wearing hearing protection. And you likewise don't buy by commerce. In your evaluations, we now found enormous differences in 1 version into some other location.

The Way We Evaluation Carpet-cleaning It requires three days to put inch rug cleaner through the duration of our battery life lifetime span of cleaning-performance evaluations. Our engineers land large swatches of off-white nylon rugs with red Georgia clay. We conduct a cleaner within the carpeting for four wet and four dry bicycles, mimicking how you'd wash an especially filthy placed onto well-trafficked carpeting. We then repeat that the evaluation two swatches.

Our experts make use of a colorimeter, 

something that measures the absorption of moderate tide spans, to take 60 readings of every rug swatch: 20 within a unique"virgin" condition, 20 once that was soiled, besides, 20 following this was washed. The total amount overall? 180 readings each technique.

[birdstooth]

APRIL FIC RECS ft. doodles

30 img limit hurting me a lot... so I had to cut images from literally every selection 🥺 so if you want to see the full assortment of doodles click the links! (* = more pics in story link)

Alphabetical by author :) (sorry ppl at the end of the alphabet I had to edit more of the pics near the end bc I’m bad at organization 😭 next time I’ll be better do reverse alphabetical lmaoo )

Also I can’t guarantee the doodle comics are accurate to the plot FYI… It’s just what comes out of my brain 🙈

@alwayssunnyinedensgate

Angel of Music/POTO AU

doodles from chap 2*, 7 & 9*

Blessed Be the Fruit/Handmaid's Tale AU

doodles from chap 1 *, 5, & 8 (+ more CURSED IMAGERY*)

Check Out Any Time You Like/Hotel Cortez (AHS) AU

doodles from chap 2

The Second Mrs. Rogers/Rebecca AU

doodles from chap 5, 7, & 9

(I had to take chap 7 doodles out bc dmg limit but it was Elle Woods inspired lol see them HERE)

Thrill of the Kill

doodles from chap 1* & 2* (& 2 again* bc I'm bad at keeping track of things lol)

Be Thee Wolf of Sheep/Far Cry 5 AU

doodles from chap 1, 2*, 3*, 13* & BONUS LORE ;) *

@buckymorelikefuckme

arOOOOOga* (click for +3 more doodles)

no shelf control* (click for full doodle comic)

@imyourbratzdoll

a bunny and elf special* (click for full doodle comic)

jennifer check x fem! pillow princess reader* (click for doodle!)

@darkficsyouneveraskedfor

God Mode* (click for full doodle comic)

Hue and Cry - part XXII

Who's the Boss - part 18* (click for +2 additional comic panels) & 22

@georgiapeach30513

Stained Like Georgia Clay - pt 16

@navybrat817

Two Sides of the Same Coin*(full doodle in link haha)

Prelude to A Kiss (click for doodle!)

@straywords

Y.O.U.

@thenhewaswrongaboutme

Your Hands Have Made Some Good Mistakes - pt 7

[douglysium]

The Investigative Archives of Ana Otto: Investigation 101: Snowed In

Statement regarding investigation 101 for client Juliette Angelo in regards to a possible forced entry and potential malicious destruction of property. The statement by Juliette Angelo is being played via recording. The investigation is being led by private detective Ana Otto near Atlanta, Georgia in the U.S.A., and the transcripts are written by Nancy Otto. The date is January 1st, 2015. This investigative statement contains themes of claustrophobia that one may find disconcerting. Investigation begins.

Juliette Angelo- I need your help. Everyone thinks I flooded the Mcnamara’s house but I swear it wasn’t me and everyone is so angry and I don’t have the money to fix this and… Okay, okay, okay, calm down. I need to start from the beginning. I was hired to do a bit of house-sitting right? No big deal, I’ve done it before many times for many different clients, and the Mcnamara’s only trust me enough to take care of their house while they're gone. I’m one of their childhood friends. They were particularly concerned because they were afraid that the cold winter might lead to some pipes bursting, so they wanted me to check on the house and prevent it from happening if possible. I still remember that morning. It was snowing, just enough to be beautiful and capture that leftover holiday spirit but not enough to cause absolutely atrocious traffic or close down the roads with streets of disgusting icy slurry. It was perfect.

I drove from my house to the Mcnamara’s and on their front lawn there was an unusual amount of snow. Every other place in the neighborhood had only a couple of centimeters at most but the snow on the Mcnamara’s lawn was at least a foot or two tall. Maybe about a foot and a half if I had to say? The massive tree in their backyard stood as unnaturally tall as ever though. But what really caught my attention was the mud… In the yard, there were these snow angels, right? But they were disgustingly muddy. Where the imprint should have been clean and white snow it was a slurry stained with mud. I didn’t think too much of it originally and I assumed it was just some neighborhood kids having a good laugh. But looking back on it I realized something was off about them. There were no footprints leading to or from the angels. Which is super SUPER weird when you consider all the mud. Whoever made them went out of their way to cover their tracks for some reason. But going through all that effort to cover up making a couple of dirty snow angels seems well… stupid. I know this is about to sound absolutely stupid but it's almost as if the angels… spawned… or like grew from where they were? It’s whatever.

Anyway, I made my way to the house and decided to take a step in the nice snow, y’know to hear the satisfying snowy crunch and all that though. My foot went through the snow and under it was an absurd amount of wet clay that stuck to my boots like glue. I assumed that maybe the Mcnamara’s grass had died from the cold and snow. But that wouldn’t explain why I didn’t see any remains of grass at all, like not even a loose blade or two. I went inside and I tried to wipe the clay off my boot but most of it just wouldn’t come off no matter how hard I tried. So I decided to just take them off in order to avoid tracking dirt into their house. The house was freezing cold so I turned on the heater and went about my normal duties. Y’know, watering the plants, feeding their parrot, checking the pipes, etc. etc… 

Just as I was about to go home I heard a rhythmic thumping from above me. It grew louder and louder and it sounded like something was smashing and slamming against something else. For a brief second, I was afraid there was a robber or someone else in the house with me so I went to investigate. Which, yeah, I know it was stupid. Had there actually BEEN someone there I don’t know what I would have done about it. I didn’t even have the sense to grab a kitchen knife or something before I went to go check it out. But to my relief, I realized the noise wasn’t coming from the second floor but from something on the roof. I assumed it was an animal or a branch from one of the nearby trees hitting the roof but decided to look outside of the window just to make sure. Outside the sky had grown eerily dark and hail, at least the size of a golf ball along with snow that almost completely whited out my field of vision, rained down from the sky. There was something off about this hail though. I mean hail just rains down randomly and while the noise I heard from the roof was definitely hail the noise itself was too… rhythmic… patterned.

I didn’t really have time to think about that though as the snow was quickly piling up and I quickly realized I wouldn’t be able to get home. Since I would have to stay in the house for the night I tried to text the Mcnamara’s but there was no signal. The weather must have been REALLY bad which meant that I didn’t have any other choice. I would have to stay and if I resorted to eating anything I would just need to hope I could repay them or buy a replacement. So I turned on the TV in order to pass the time while watching it. Weirdly, the TV worked just fine even though my phone didn’t and I remember the TV being a satellite TV. I remember thinking it was weird that my phone had no connection but the TV did, but I wasn’t an expert on TVs so maybe there’s some weird weather thing that only messed with phone frequencies, I don’t know. After a while, what I assumed to be, several hours passed. So I helped myself to a small sandwich from the fridge(trying to eat as little food as I could) and then went to bed on the couch. The next thing I remember is waking up in a pool of my own sweat. I was bombarded with a sweltering heat and it had become extremely humid and clammy. I went over to look outside one of the windows assuming that the weather had changed but I was only greeted with a sheet of pure unblemished white. It took me a second to even process that I was even looking at snow and not some sort of weird painting or sheet that had been put over the window. That meant it was probably still cold outside and that the heat was due to the heating stuff in the house. I went to check on the thermostat only to find that the screen was on but it was blank. I went to check some parts of the heating system down in the basement and a couple of them seemed broken in a sense.

The basement was covered in a muggy fog and warm water had condensed on the surface of the heater and wisps of… well I wouldn’t quite call it steam but like… vapor leaked out of it. Considering how hot and humid the house was, the heater must have just broken and gone overkill, or maybe I just accidentally turned it too high up and pushed it too far. The basement always made me uncomfortable. Its architecture was weird in comparison to the rest of the house and seemed several decades out of date. I checked my phone again, no signal. I couldn’t stay here forever so I went all the way to the second floor to try to look out of one of the windows and get a better view of the outside or just get a better signal for my phone. To my horror, all I could see was a sheet of pure blank white icy snow pushing against the glass. How much did it need to snow in one night to create two stories worth of snow? Something wasn’t right. I went up to the attic to try to find an even better view. The attic was weird… It was tiny with nothing but a single small window on the other side of it. It was freezing and the architecture of the attic seemed completely different from the rest of the house. As if it was at least several decades out of date from the rest of the house. I quickly hurried over to the light of the tiny window, my last glimmer of hope, and looked out the window. Snow… nothing but more pure white snow pushing against the window. Unlike the others though, I swear that the window bulged ever so slightly from the weight of the snow and I could see little hairline fractures in the glass.

I began to worry about my girlfriend. What if she was trapped in the house or something worse like being stuck in a car or something? Then I heard something. The tiniest of creaks. At first, I thought it was just the house settling but the creak had gone on for far far too long. Those creaks became the sound of wooden cracking that kept getting louder and louder as it moved towards me. Like an entire tree was falling over. Then I remembered the giant old tree in the backyard. The weight of the snow must have strained it so much that it broke. I panicked and began to run downstairs as something massive collided with the roof of the house. The small round window shattered and snow poured into the room while the ceiling of the attic caved in. The house eventually caught the tree’s fall, stopping its descent. I began panicking even more. Where was I supposed to go? I could feel the freezing cold seep in from outside as snow kept spilling from the hole that was once a window and the cracks and crevices in the roof of the house. Was I going to freeze to death? No, the snow couldn’t be THAT bad I should at least be able to see outside. If the tree had enough room to fall over that must mean that the snow just got stuck to the windows or something. Crack! I heard that sound again. CRACK!!! The parts of the house holding up the massive trunk of the tree seemed to finally give way and the tree slowly descended towards me. As it went, snow just kept pouring down from behind it, filling the room around me. I scrambled down the stairs and it sounded like the tree was right behind me the whole way. I cried as splinters and snow pelted me. I went for the front door and when I opened it a mountain of snow and ice fell on me, burying me beneath it and knocking the air from my lungs with its weight. The tree seemed stuck once again for the moment, having smashed through the stairs I ran down, and I flailed about in the snow trying to catch my bearings. I escaped from the pile and took a couple of deep breaths. But before I could rest, I heard cracking again even though the tree didn’t move. Snow started pouring from behind it and more and more snow spilled from the door in front of me. It wasn’t possible, it didn't make any physical sense. Water started leaking from under the growing pile of snow, some pipe must have burst somewhere. I panicked once again and ran towards one of the windows but the moment I reached the window it shattered. Bits of glass fell to the ground with a clink as water, snow, and ice began to spill in from the opening.

They were so heavy that the bottom of the window frame bent and broke as it was pulled down. I heard more glass shattering. Every single window in the house was breaking.  I ran into the basement and closed the door behind me. I figured that the basement would be safe. It had no windows and the snow hadn’t spilled through the front door until I opened it, so maybe I could hunker down there until help arrived. Then I heard water splashing. It was freezing now and I looked into the basement… total darkness. The lights had all gone out so I turned on the flashlight of my phone to see that the basement was flooding with cold water and ice. The pipes had burst and water started to flow from under the door behind me and rained from the ceiling. The water was rising unnaturally fast… I was trapped, stuck. I had two choices. Drown in the basement or get buried alive by the snow and collapsing house on the other side of the door. I could hear the crack of the tree falling once again, getting unnaturally closer and closer, as if its weight had increased tenfold. There was no way it could reach the basement though, right? My chance of living probably would have been higher if I stayed on the ground floor and just hoped I got stuck under some rubble or snow until help arrived. But if I tried to open the door to go back now the snow would probably knock me into the water anyway and I would either freeze to death or drown. I missed my chance. There was nowhere to go. Then I heard splashing. Not from the pipes or the water flowing from under the door. Something was in the basement with me. Probably a rat or something. But it sounded too big to be a rat, and there’s no way a dog or cat-sized animal could have gotten down there. I turned around and saw a pale man climbing out of the freezing cold water. The cold didn’t seem to bother him and I have no idea how he could’ve gotten in without me noticing. Was he a thief who was trapped with me, maybe I had heard someone upstairs after all? He was squat but unnaturally so, as if he’d been smashed or crushed. He was short but probably would have been taller if his spine was straight. His spine… It was all bent out of shape, crushed. There looked to be some sort of indent in the man’s head as if part of his skull had been crushed into itself and he carried a briefcase that looked like it was made out of some sort of stone. He was bald and particles fell from his head occasionally when he moved. At first, I thought it was dandruff but now I think it was sand. He wore a mud-stained, sopping wet suit. “Do you need help?” he asked, his voice sounded like he was gargling something akin to mud. “What?” I was confused and had no idea what to say. “Do you need help?” he asked once again. I didn’t know what was happening, I was so confused that words refused to leave my mouth.

He opened his briefcase with a click. At that moment it seemed like everything around us slowed down. The water rose much slower and a few of the pipes only let out a trickle of water. He handed me some forms and a pen before saying “I can save you if you sign here.” The papers were water-damaged and covered in mud stains, and yet they were perfectly legible. He handed me a pen. I hesitated for a moment and tried to read what I was given. But as I did I heard the cracking of the great tree’s trunk and the splashing of the water around me grow louder and louder. The door behind me bulged ever so slightly, splintering from the sheer weight of the crushing ice and snow behind it as the room quickly became colder and colder. I didn’t know exactly what was happening but I had no choice. I messily scribbled my name onto the signature line of the paper. The pen was unnaturally heavy and the ink, or at least I think it was ink, was like that of a dark mud. The moment I finished signing he took the papers and smiled saying “You are trapped in my debt.” I could see small stones embedded into his teeth as he spoke those words. He turned around and walked back into the water and vanished as quickly as he had come. I sat there sobbing from all the stress. It was so bad that it took me a few minutes to even process the fact that I wasn’t dead. The water had stopped rising and the basement seemed a little less cold. I cautiously opened the door. The house was in shambles. A layer of snow was spread out across the ground and while a tree or some other large object clearly fell through the house there was no trunk to be seen. I went outside and only a thin layer of muddy snow and slosh sat on the ground but every other house in the neighborhood didn’t have a speck of ice or snow on them. The weather was gray and cloudy but I felt room temperature nowhere close to the freezing cold I had felt in the basement. I went to the backyard and all that remained of the Mcnamara’s massive tree was a cleanly cut stump... I don’t know what else there is to say... I just sort of went home. I have no idea who that man is or what he wants but my bank account has been decreasing steadily for some reason.

Apparently, my money is going to someone by the name of Jamie Erdmann and there’s nothing I can do about it due to some legal stuff. I think it has something to do with the contract. I’ve been experiencing sleep paralysis every time I wake up since that day. I’ve literally never had sleep paralysis until after that day and every time I wake up there’s this great pressure on my chest. I always end up trying to scream or flail around, afraid of being back in that basement, but my muscles refuse to move for even hours at a time sometimes. I’ve been seeing a doctor about it but maybe I’m like possessed or something. I don’t know if you have any advice or weird techniques please tell me. Most of the Mcnamara family doesn’t believe me and is trying to sue me because they think I didn’t check the pipes which led to the basement getting flooded. Some of them also think I let someone cut down their favorite tree or something. I already asked the police and several detectives but there hasn’t been a whole lot of luck. Your ad said you were an investigator who was willing to look into supernatural stuff and perform exorcisms. So please PLEASE help me if there’s anything you can do, HELP ME.

Ana Otto- Statement ends. My diagnosis: Most likely the work of the Choke considering the presence of losing space and the fear of being buried alive along with being trapped. When it comes to dealing with the Choke and the Boundless they tend to be relatively easier and straightforward due to their often adverse effects towards each other. However, this case is a little more complicated. I went to investigate the house and brought Ben Bannet to perform an inspection on the house and its architecture. He was able to find something strange going on with the attic and the basement of the house. They appear to be based on the design philosophy and sensibilities of one Robert Smirke. If you have read even a small number of my previous investigative statements and reports you should be quite familiar with his architecture and its connection to the supernatural. Various parts of the house were smashed and crushed by the tree falling on it, which is to be expected, but some parts of the basement seemed to be unnaturally warped and distorted as if something was crushing it from the outside. I brought an artifact aligned with the Boundless, a feather that leaves anyone who touches it unable to fall for several days without any way to bring themselves down.

I dropped the feather into the basement and the feather was shot out of the basement at an alarming speed as the room seemed to screech and contort before going back to its original shape. However, the damage from the water and ice still remained. As for the person who rose out of the water the description and behavior match that of Jamie Erdmann. Mr. Erdmann is an Avatar of the Choke that appears to have the ability to enter the Choke itself through sufficiently large bodies or pools of water. This ability can also be used by him to travel from one pool of water to another by entering the Choke from one area and then moving through it before exiting somewhere different than that of where he came from. He is capable of going back the way he came so this ability can be used to hide in the Choke for any amount of time before returning back to where he was. He can also bring people, be they willing or unwilling, into the Choke with this ability but, unless one has a strong enough connection to the Choke, the other Entities, or has a specific ability, they will become trapped within the Choke in the process. My records indicate that Erdmann works as a debt collector, healthcare manager, and financial director. He typically feeds the Choke in one of three ways. By dragging unfortunate victims into pools of water in order to take them directly into the Choke, trapping scared people in terrible contracts they cannot escape from, and/or feeding on the fear and despair of people trapped in debt or terrible financial situations. This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen the Choke get more metaphysical than just people being physically trapped. It seems that the fear of not having a lot of wiggle room or being out of options in a metaphorical sense feeds this Dread Power just as well as being buried alive.

The Entity cares not if you feel like you are suffocating literally or metaphorically. There have also been several other investigations regarding Erdmann that I was tasked with looking into and supernatural phenomena seem to have a way of following him around, indicating that the Choke probably favors him greatly. There is also the possibility that locations could have something to do with it. Some of the research notes I exchanged with Gertrude Robinson theorized that similar to how Britain might be the current focus of the Beholding, North America might be the current focus for the Choke. Which seems to have some basis with how active the Dread Power seems around some of these parts. As for Edrmann’s whereabouts, he appears to be working at a nearby hospital. Something that I will be sure to look into in the future. When it comes to Miss Angelo’s plight I fear that it might be too late. I have no way of really proving Erdmann had anything to do with it so I’m currently working on gathering some evidence of a pothole or other natural disaster as the explanation for the state of the Mcnamara’s home. Perhaps wind and snow caused the tree to fall over and destabilize the house while knocking a few pipes loose. It is quite old after all. But I fear the real problem is the contract Angelo seemed to have signed. I’m still working on figuring out how to break these contracts and the only way I’ve managed to do so involves the Puppeteer. Which is basically trading out one supernatural binding for another one of sorts. Mcnamara’s contracts tend to end quite terribly for those who sign them. Those who accumulate too much “debt” disappear and are probably thrown into the Choke based on the evidence I have. The investigation is still ongoing though, so more evidence is needed. End diagnosis.