#@chaotic man named oliver

[chaoticmannamedoliver]

Steam-powered giraffe fans might like this one.

A commission for @nerointhecorner who wanted peter 6 drawn.

Commission info in [This] post if you wanna commission me.

#@chaotic man named oliver #digital art #own art #spg fanart #spg #steam powered giraffe #peter6 #spg peter6 #drawing commisions #art commisions

[hairyjocktf]

Greek Vacation

It was finally June, and Alex could barely sleep. He’d worked his ass off the last year in college to avoid having to take summer classes, which meant he could join the rest of his family on their trip to Greece. His mom had apparently won tickets or miles or something through her job, he couldn’t remember. All that mattered was he was going to Greece! It was finally time to relax and unwind from the insanely stressful last few months. He’d gone over his packing list six, seven times now; he was absolutely sure he was ready. His family was meeting him at the airport, so he was just pacing now, waiting on that text to start moving. The phone on the countertop buzzed and he lunged for it. It was time.

Alex grabbed his oversized suitcase and lugged it down the stairs of his apartment building out to the street. He hopped on the bus and found a seat. He was giddy, this trip was his dream trip as a kid, and now he was finally getting to go. He’d helped plan out their whole itinerary, from the Acropolis to the ruins at Delphi and so so many more. Before he knew it, they were dropping him at the airport. Inside the chaotic lobby he managed to spot his parents, his dad was already wearing a massive sun hat which helped. The next hour was a blur getting their bags checked, through security, and corralling everyone to the gate. Then began the longest part of the trip: the flight. Alex had brought noise canceling headphones and an extra strong dose of melatonin that he prayed would do the job. And miraculously, it did. Nearly ten hours later he woke up to the sounds of the plane landing, and next thing he knew they were in a cab headed into Athens.

The cab pulled up to their hotel, depositing them and their bags at the foot of a beautiful white building with a grand entrance. This part was his mother’s domain. She ushered everyone inside and got them to their room in no time. Alex was unpacking and setting his stuff out when he realized he couldn’t find his phone charger. He tore everything out of his suitcase and backpack, trying desperately to find it. Nothing. He must’ve left it in his haste getting out the door, after all his phone was plugged in while he was waiting. 

Shit, he thought, before solemnly announcing the news to his family.

“We’ll stop by a store or something and get you a new one, it's fine,” his mother said, buried in her own suitcase. What a start to the trip. Alex sat on the side of his bed looking out the window at the building next door, kicking his legs waiting for them to get going. Finally, after another 30 minutes, they were getting back out the door. 

Alex and his family started wandering through the massive metropolis of Athens, surrounded by white buildings and the intense noise of a city. Only a few blocks away they came upon a massive street market, with locals selling everything imaginable. Fruits, street food, bags, shirts, phones, you name it. Surely, Alex thought, they would sell a phone charger here. He squeezed up and down through tight corridors of shops, flooded with people. He was deep into the market when his path was blocked with a crowd. He turned around, only to find the way he came in also packed tight with tourists. He was stuck. As panic started to set in, Alex heard a deep, husky voice from the stall behind him.

“You there, tourist boy,” the voice said, and Alex whipped around to see a large man with dark olive skin, and the hairiest body he’d ever seen. It was on his fingers, hands, forearms, and crawled out of his open shirt solidly up to the thick bushy beard on his face that nearly hid all his features. Alex was frozen, taking in the sight of this man. He was snapped out of his daze by the man speaking again.

“You look tired, boy. Did you just arrive?” he looked Alex in the eyes.

Alex was jumbling his words, “Uh, yes, yea I did. But I slept! I shouldn’t be tired.. I don’t think…” 

The man grabbed his hand and pulled it towards him. “Here boy, this will help you,” he said in his thick accent. He took out a small beaded bracelet and slipped it onto Alex’s wrist, tying it tight. 

“Uhh, thanks?” Alex remarked, a little confused about the whole situation. The moment was interrupted by his mother’s voice piercing through the crowd.

“Alex!! Alex!! Are you over here?” Alex jerked his head towards the voice, starting to back away from the man.

“Enjoy your trip, boy,” the man said, releasing his arm and giving a slight wave. Alex turned away and pushed through the throng of people in his way, eventually reaching his mother.

“Alex! Thank god you’re okay, we lost you immediately. Here, we found someone selling chargers,” she handed him a cord, not even noticing the bracelet on his wrist. “Alright, let’s get back on track today, shall we?” she put some pep in her voice. As the family squeezed through the crowded Athenian streets, Alex failed to notice a slight itch where the bracelet clung to his wrist.

The summer sun beat down on them as they slowly made their way up the hills of Athens. Alex was sweating buckets, the back of his shirt absolutely drenched. He looked over in envy at his dad’s sun hat that he had mocked earlier. After what felt like an eternity, they made it to the base of the acropolis. Alex’s dad groaned at the sight of not only immense crowds, but another massive rock they had to climb. Alex was undeterred however, his eyes lit up with the sight of the ruins atop the hill. This was what he’d been waiting for, and he let nothing get in his way as he dragged his family into the crowd to get closer. The slight itch under the bracelet continued, unbeknownst to Alex. His skin under it was darkening to an olive shade, slowly creeping up his arm and down towards his hand. Where the darker tone had spread, hairs began popping up, thick black hairs in contrast to his light brown wispy hairs. They continued to sprout, growing in between the last, creating a dense, curly coat. The back of his hand was next, the same black hairs wriggling out. Soon enough, his forearm stuck out like a sore thumb next to the rest of his pale body, yet no one seemed to notice.

The next couple hours were heaven for Alex. He explored the acropolis with his family, pointing out everything he’d researched and explaining even more. Between the numerous ruins and museums, the rest of the day was jam packed with artifacts. Alex even found himself remembering facts about spots he didn’t remember researching. The other constant of the day was the sun. It beat down on them from above with the full force of a Mediterranean summer, sweat constantly dripping from his forehead. It seemed like significantly more than usual for Alex, but he chalked it up to the different climate, and how much they’d been walking. Under his soaked shirt, however, his body was adapting. The deep olive color had spread all the way up his arm, with the forest of hair following, coating his upper arm. The hairs crawled over his inflating shoulder, sprinkling it with black wisps. His bicep has also grown substantially, almost like he was a regular gym-goer, matching his now beefier hand and forearm.

The sun-kissed shade continued to spread, imposing itself over his chest. Not long after, his chest began growing. It pushed out two meaty pecs, skin stretching to accommodate the immense muscles growing in slowly. His chest was sore as years of workouts applied themselves at once. The crisp definition melted somewhat as his form softened, fat layering itself onto his chest and further down as a thick muscle gut grew in. His stomach pressed tight against his shirt, stretching it to its limit. As the muscle pushed out of his frame, so did the hairs. Small black hairs began rearing their heads around his growing nipples, pushing out like thick shoots of grass. The hairs radiated away from his nipples, surging across the open fields of his pectorals, burying them in a black, curly forest. They grew longer and thicker, matting together into a rug across his chest that scratched against his shirt. The fur coat grew denser in the center of his pecs and right below, making them look like real pillow cushions. His gut tingled as the hairs began erupting, swirling together and giving his belly a thick black coat to match. By the time Alex and his family were headed to dinner it looked like he’d eaten plenty, putting on dozens of pounds.

They sat down at a street-side restaurant that Alex had recommended, exhausted after a very active first day. While they browsed the menu, Alex scratched loosely at an itch above the neckline of his shirt. The wave of darker skin tone had slowly been inching up his neck, leading a wave of black hairs. His chest fur had overtaken his collarbone and continued to spread. His neck remained bare until, suddenly, a single dark hair sprouted above his shirt. It was black, thick, and curly. Seconds later, a second hair joined it, shooting out from his shirt collar.  More and more began sprouting, giving Alex a thick dark tuft of hair curling over his shirt. This was just the beginning, though. The dark hairs climbed up his neck, following the wave of olive complexion. Alex’s lean face cracked as it widened, jaw growing thick and square. His brow jutted out and his nose grew more prominent as his face took on the darker tone. His wavy brown hair pulled back some, turning black and more curly. The itching grew as a shadow developed across his jaw, darkening as thick stubble emerged from the bare skin. The scruff seemed to age Alex up a good few years, he seemed like a real adult with the stubble, hairy forearms, and chest hair pushing out of his shirt.

As they ate, Alex briefed his parents on their plan for the next day, starting with an early bus out to Delphi. He already knew the exact times, costs, and routes to take for the perfect day. His parents were impressed at how well researched he was, not noticing the dark scruff covering their son’s face. They finished up dinner and caught a cab home, knowing they had to be up at the crack of dawn the next day.

The next morning came quickly, and with some disgruntled grumbling from his parents, they were off on their bus to Delphi. It was a three hour trip, so they settled into their seats and his parents tried to get a little more rest. Alex stared eagerly out the window, watching the mountains rush past with the sea behind. As the ride went on, he found himself shifting uncomfortably in his seat, like his body was agitated and he couldn’t figure out why. He tried to focus on the beautiful scenery and the maps of their destination instead. In reality, beneath his clothes, the slow moving wave of Mediterranean skin had crossed his muscle gut and reached his groin. It swept through his crotch, seeding the growth of new hair. His existent bush was sparse, and was quickly engulfed by the torrent of dark curly hairs that erupted from the base of his cock, spreading outward. Black hairs wormed out of his skin like weeds coating the entire area, pushing up towards his navel in a triangle pattern, and out onto his thighs.

Alex tried to subtly scratch at the area as the itching grew intense, using his map to hide his meaty hands groping the area. His flaccid cock absorbed the same olive color, and a thick foreskin stretched itself back over the head. It didn’t stay soft for long, engorging and pushing six, seven, eight inches in his pants. Alex shifted again to try and keep comfortable in his seat, but the growing rod was not helping him, leaving a massive imprint on his shorts. His bush continued to thicken, hairs sprouting between others, curling together into an impenetrable forest. The hairs even started climbing the base of his cock, popping out a ways up. There was a thud on the seat when Alex’s balls suddenly inflated to the size of baseballs, his sack growing furry as the same curly black hairs engulfed them. Alex had spread his legs as much as he could, he was practically on top of the guy in the seat next to him, and he was still feeling squeezed. He was about to reach his limit when the bus came to a stop. They had made it.

Like it was instinct, Alex gathered his parents and started their exploration of the site. He took them to the Temple of Apollo, the museum, and the spring. It was another relentlessly hot day, and within minutes he had started sweating buckets. He ignored it to continue guiding his parents around, but it began to take a toll. Underneath his arms, his paltry smattering of hair was starting to soak up some color, growing thicker and darker. The more sweat dripped from his pits the more hair began to shoot out of them, catching the drops and adding to the stench that began to waft from him. Throughout the morning, more and more hairs poked out from under his arms. His beefy arms weren’t able to hide the enormous tufts of hair that were pushing out of his pits, kept nice and damp from the heat. 

They stopped briefly for lunch at a spot Alex knew and recommended, taking a break from the heat before they continued walking through the town. Alex scratched at his face, his fingers pulling through a little more hair than they had the night before. The meal was a nice reprieve, showcasing some delicious local cuisine to his parents. He took the chance to explain their next destinations, and before long they were back walking up the hills. Alex was glad he’d worn shorts today, it was brutal even for June. His exposed legs had begun taking on the same tone as the rest of him, no longer standing out as pale twigs. Curly hairs brushed against his shorts as they grew en masse, traveling from his pubes downward. The hairs pushed out of his growing thighs, a burgeoning field of dark curls spreading across them. His calves experienced the same, putting on size before getting engulfed with black hair.

They’d made it to the stadium and viewpoint at the top. Alex left the couple to take in the vista and address his current problem; his shoes were way too tight. Luckily, it seemed he’d worn sandals for the day. He bent over to loosen the straps, giving some breathing room to his now size 15 feet, not noticing the coarse hairs popping out across the tops of them. Even his toes were hairy now. He stood back up and looked out over the valley, scratching his ass that had been a little itchy. The same thick curly hairs had started bursting out of his crack, creating a furry mass between his cheeks. The hairs spread out, growing like weeds over the expanse of his ass. The sweat dripping down his widening back helped the hairs take root, and they shot upward sprouting from the small of his back. His lats grew darker as black fur erupted before climbing up to his neck and blending with the thick coating on his shoulders. The coarse curly hairs grew dense and long enough to push his damp shirt nearly an inch away from his body all around. Curly black hairs poked out of the back of his shirt collar too, mirroring the front side.

The sun had begun to hang lower in the sky, signaling it time to head back to the bus station. Alex’s legs had bulked up enough to handle the constant walking up and down, as he should be used to it by now. He guided the couple back down to the town and they got on their way back to Athens, another multi-hour journey. He felt his seat was even smaller this time, his body having swelled with muscle and mass throughout the day. As the bus bumped along the mountain roads, Alex stared at his reflection in the window. His short beard was pushing out. Hairs grew longer, curling together. More hairs sprouted to fill the gaps, climbing higher on his cheeks. The beard grew incredibly dense, adding another couple years to his face. He finally gave in and scooted over, taking up both seats. The bulky man then closed his eyes for an hour until the familiar noise of Athens began leaking through the windows. 

They stopped at the station, and he grabbed the couple’s bags from the rack. WIth that motion, his short sleeve shirt that had been taught against his massive chest all day gave out, bursting open. His thick chest and belly and the incredible rug that covered them were exposed, but that was nothing out of the ordinary for him, especially in the summer. He lugged the bags to the curb and handed them over. The woman was exhausted looking, but still had a beaming smile.

“Oh, thank you so much Alexios! You’ve been amazing these last two days.” He swallowed, a large adam’s apple bulging out of his throat, “You’re very welcome. Enjoy the rest of your visit to Greece,” he said with a baritone voice and accent.

The man handed him a large stack of bills as a thank you, and the two headed off towards their hotel. Alexios sighed, it had been an exhausting day. And after all that, he needed to prepare for the new tourists he was to guide the next day.

Hey y'all, I was going to start on the poll story but it's been so close I couldn't predict it! So enjoy this race change tf in the mean time. Speaking of which, if you havent yet, go vote in the poll for the next story! There's still 2 days left.

#male tf #hairy tf #bear tf #race change #greek tf #hairy #hair growth #hairy chest #hairy pits #hairy back #beard #my writing

[cinewhore]

The Wrath of a Mother

Pairing: Thomas "Tommy" Shelby x fem!reader word count: 3k warnings: violence, heavy angst, kidnappings, blood, gore, guns, fighting. summary: Thomas Shelby discovers his wife's past. A/N: more peaky blinders brain rot for you all. not much else to say. no beta cause I say so! Enjoy. Credits to the gif artist.

The chaotic melody of jazz was cut off by the sound of screams.

Tommy didn’t like jazz which is why you waited for him to leave before putting the record on. It had been a tiresome day, dealing with the children, being the lady of the house. You sent the majority of the staff away, with the exception of a few maids to help with your children. The girls were young and foolish, always giggling behind their hands. 

You pay the shouts no mind, until they grow louder, the high pitched squeals of the girls being intertwined with the yelling of men. 

Suddenly, a shot rings out. You instantly cut the record, dashing into the children’s room. Oliver wakes up with ease while Alice fusses. You hated disrupting them but had no choice, telling them they were going to have a special sleepover in the guest room. 

“Now, mommy is going to go and grab some snacks. I’m going to lock the door, to keep the pesky monsters away! Mommy or daddy will come back to get you, ok?” 

Your oldest nods, the best big brother to his sister. You press a quick kiss to both their heads, not daring to look back at them before shutting the door. 

The world seemed to slow down after that. You weren’t aware of how much time had passed, couldn’t ignore the ringing in your ears, the exhilaration of shock and adrenaline coursing through your bloodstream. 

It was enough to blind a man. 

Someone was hollering your name but you couldn’t make out whose voice it belonged to. 

Hands abruptly clasp your shoulders and you shriek, twisting your body in a way to fend off whoever dared to attack you next. You try to ram the knife into the arm of your assailant but another pair of hands snatch your weapon away, leaving you defenseless. 

Tommy crawls on his knees in front of you, grasping the side of your face tightly. You squirm and squirm but stop as he shakes you. 

“It’s alright! It’s me! It’s just me!” He could tell that you were trying to comprehend what was happening and that your body was moving on its own accord, still engaged in fight or flight mode. 

“Arthur, let her go.” 

The oldest brother shoots Tommy a look. “Are you sure?” 

“Yes!” 

Arthur drops his hold on you and you sag forward, arms wobbling against the wooden floors, hands drenched with blood. 

“It’s alright, love. You’re ok, it's finished now.” 

It was over. You had won, however, the thin veil between this life and the old one had been hastily torn down. 

“Where are the children, hm?”

You shake your head, his words unclear to you. 

“Our children, where are they?! Alice and Oliver, where are they?” 

You raise a weakened arm and point towards the end of the corridor. “Guest room closet…I locked it-” 

“Michael, go check!” Thomas shouts. His cousin takes off without another word.

It was all too much. The noise, the lights, the commotion. Pushing yourself up on your knees, you combat Tommy and the grip he held on you, dead set on getting into a place where you could shut it all out. 

You stumble down the hallway and the flight of stairs, only tripping a few times before making it out the front door. You make it just past the hedges and collapse, stomach churning while you vomit.  

Arthur was close by, tentative of his approach. He didn’t want to scare you off further. He advances steadily, arms outstretched to show that he meant no harm. 

“It's ok, love. It’s just, Arthur. I’m not gonna hurt ya.” 

You nod, wiping at your mouth. “There were so many-" 

“Yeah. Yeah, there were. You fought them all.” 

“I didn’t- didn’t mean to kill anyone-” 

You let Arthur close enough so that he could hold your hands, uncaring of the blood smeared across yours. 

“Listen to me, eh? You’re gonna have the shakes. Your hands are gonna feel like they’re made of fucking lead. S’all normal. I just need you to breathe cause it looks like you’re gonna faint.” 

You mimic Arthur as he breathes in and out, slowing down your beating heart. You surge forward and hug your brother in law, catching him by surprise. He panics for a moment before hugging you back, rocking the two of you. 

“You did good, sister. You did good.” 

You didn’t speak about it for two weeks. 

You knew that he wanted an explanation, you felt it every time the two of you were in the same room. There was a lingering stare he would give you that he gave to each of his enemies. It was menacing, calculating and ominous. You knew the longer it took for you to offer up clarification for your actions, the more he began to suspect that you were placed in his house, in his bed, based off of an ulterior motive. If that were the case, you would’ve killed him by now but Tommy was no fool nor was he new to this type of life. He knew when people played with their food before eating and he refused to be swallowed by you. 

His lovely, little wife. 

It was a pleasant Sunday morning. You figured after breakfast you’d take the children into the gardens, perhaps have them splash around in the pond to tire them out before lunch. Tommy’s side of the bed was empty and cold by the time you woke up, which didn’t surprise you. 

The lack of boisterous noise coming from the children is what tipped you off. 

You remain calm as your lady’s maid helps you dress for the day, swapping out your gowns for a nice riding outfit. 

“Lily, where are the children?” you query the young girl. 

“Mr. Shelby arranged for them to spend the day with Ada, madam. She collected them this morning.” 

You rock your jaw, vexation settling into your features. He secluded you, tapered off the one distraction you wouldn’t be able to use against him. 

“Thank you, Lily. Where is Mr. Shelby?”

“He’s awaiting you in the dining hall for breakfast.” 

Nodding, you finish your last little bit of preparations before seeking out your husband. 

Thomas was a sight to behold. He sat in the chair facing away from the window, the morning glow casting a hazy aura around him. He held the newspaper in front of him with rigidness, eyes covered with his spectacles, long eyelashes gracing his cheeks whenever he looked down or blinked. 

You don’t bother clearing your throat, knowing your husband was programmed with an innate capability of being able to detect when he was no longer alone. He huffs out an exhale, flipping the pages of the paper. 

Frances pulls your seat out for you and you thank her, watching as she pours you a cup of coffee. 

“Shall I crack your egg for you?” 

You shake your head. “No, thank you. I actually find that I don’t have much of an appetite this morning.” 

“Shall I ask the cook to prepare something different for you? Perhaps you’d like some fresh fruit? We just received some apples.” Frances tries again. 

You give a sympathetic smile to the older woman, always grateful for her thoughtfulness and warmth. “I’ll just have some water.” 

Frances pours you a hefty glass, bowing slightly as she exits the room. 

You take a quaint sip from the glass as Tommy folds the paper, tucking it underneath his plate. 

“Are you sure you’re not hungry? The toast was quite delicious.” 

“You sent the children away without telling me.” You place the glass carefully on the table, using the condensation to wet your neck. 

“I am their father, I can make decisions about where they go.” Tommy hums, rolling his neck to finally get a look at you. Even on low hours of sleep and no makeup, you were a natural beauty. You fixed your hair up in a way that he especially liked, the pins keeping it held firmly in an ornate fashion. 

“You don’t send my children anywhere without me knowing about it.” You bite back coolly. 

“Well,” He claps his hands together. “I figured we could use a day to ourselves. Frances has made us a nice picnic near the edge of the garden, our horses have been saddled and for the ultimate surprise, we’ll be shooting pheasants for dinner.” 

You force out a grin, swallowing down the lump that was squirming its way up your throat. “What a perfect day.” 

The picnic was gorgeous and you hated the way you tore into your food after skipping breakfast. Tommy made little conversation and you obliged him for the time being, willing yourself not to disassociate. 

He was setting you up. While you remained neutral about the usage of guns and their place in the house, you always refused to shoot one if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Tommy had given you one for protection and you kept it locked in a box, stored in the back of your wardrobe. The last thing you wanted was for the kids to find it. 

Maurice, a stablehand, was already stationed near the edge of the forestline, a trap full of pheasants at his disposal. Tommy hands you a shotgun and the both of you prepare them for the task. He’s the first one to shoot and achieves a few hits, your duo of foxhounds sprinting to capture them. 

You check over your gun once more, ensuring that it wouldn’t backfire and injure your shoulder. 

“I’ll take four.” You tell Maruice and he gawks at you before straightening his posture. 

“Are you sure, ma’am?” 

Raising a single eyebrow was enough to get the young man to hush, nodding his head that he understood. “Be quick when handing me the other gun.” 

“On your signal.” 

You raise your weapon upwards, relaxing in your stance and emitting a low release of breath. 

“Pull.” 

The flapping of wings alerts your senses. Watching them disperse into the sky, you aim your gun a few paces ahead, striking two birds instantly. Rapidly swapping out guns, you anchor yourself a bit before plucking off the remaining two. The dogs are happy as they trot to gather the rest of the birds. 

Maurice seeks to hide his amusement but fails. “Great fucking shot, Mrs. Shelby!” 

“Thank you, Maurice. Hang two of them for dinner, please.” 

You don’t say another word as you set off for the stream nearby, Tommy close behind. 

You strip off your shoes and socks, placing your slightly blistered feet into the running waters. Tommy takes a seat beside you, lighting a cigarette. 

“Are we going to talk or keep playing the silent game?” 

“You’re the one who makes speeches.” 

Tommy chuckles. “You’re a great shot.” 

“I know.” 

“I just want to understand how a woman such as yourself swore of guns but managed to take on six armed men with the precision and execution of someone who enlisted.” 

You snap your head over. “What, so you think I’m a spy now, huh? Is that it? A Soviet spy sent to crush Thomas Shelby and his empire from within? Give me a fucking break.”

“I’m not picking a fight with you-” 

“But you are! That’s what this is, isn’t it? A fight that has gone on for far too long.” 

Tommy goes silent, like he always does. At this point the both of you realize that you were no longer referring to the conversation at hand but what was left unsaid in between the lines. You let yourself wallow in the anger for just a few more moments before exhaling deeply.  

Absent-mindedly, you pick at the tiny blades of grass, ripping and ripping until they scatter out of your hands like confetti. 

“I was framed,” you start. Tommy perks up at the sound, lighting a cigarette. He attempts to pass it to you but you refuse it. “I was young, barely a teen. An orphan.” 

“The New Prospects Orphanage in the Netherlands.” Tommy comments and you nod your head. 

“On Wednesdays, we would take walks around the city so we could be shown what proper ladies were like. There was a girl, Claire, who would sometimes sneak in our group and walk with us. We were friends. The older girls were vile and teased her. Pushed her down a flight of stairs. She cracked her skull.” 

You stop at the mention of your old friend, rushed memories of that fateful day speeding through your mind at the speed of light. You remember the blood slowly leaking out from behind her head, staining the white hair bow she wore. 

“I reached out to try and grab her, if anything we would’ve fallen together but she slipped right through my grasp. I was blamed and whilst they were discussing what to do with the police, I took off.” 

You look at Tommy, who was already eyeing you with precision. “I apparently made some very bad fucking enemies that day.” 

He began putting pieces together mentally, filling in the gaps of his research. From what he had gathered, you were at an orphanage until you were twelve, moved to the States until you were eighteen before making your way back to London. You remained lowkey, worked jobs mostly as a secretary and lived a bland existence until he met you a few years after being back from France. 

You steal his cigarette, sucking on the stick like it was the last one on earth. 

“Claire came from a notable family within the Netherlands. Her brother wouldn’t stop until he saw my head on a stick. They sent people after me.” 

Tommy sticks his tongue out to wet his lips briefly. “Eli Delbeke.” 

“Eli Delbeke.” you repeat. 

He was one of the six bodies Tommy discovered after the carnage. He knew who you were, the woman you tried to hide behind. He hunted you until he cornered you in your own house, threatened to feed your children to his dogs. Eli had sent nearly every thug, gangsta, and man for hire after you. You managed to defeat them all.

You didn't like how easy it was for you to snap someones neck, hated the way blood circled the drain during a shower.

“He knew you were going to be alone.” Tommy concludes. “He knew about the rally.” 

“As far as I’m concerned, there shouldn’t be any more of them alive. I survived the onslaught. And you want to know what lesson he could’ve learned?” 

You put out the cigarette beside you, coughing. “Grief isn’t good for business.” 

It happened so fast that you didn’t have time to blink. The foundation was in full swing at its grand opening, members of high society swarming all around you. You wouldn’t lie and say you were thrilled to be there but this was Tommy’s moment and as his wife, you had to play your part. 

Photographs were taken and you smiled politely, Alice in your arms and Oliver hiding behind your leg. The boy was utterly shy and you hated placing him in situations like this. Balancing Alice on your hip, you shoot an apologetic look at Tommy and the others, awaiting a photo op. 

You brush back Oliver’s hair, trying to coax him forward. “Come on, Oli. It’s ok! We’ll smile very quickly for a photo and then we can go wait outside for daddy.” 

Tommy grows impatient and grabs Oliver, taking him by surprise. He begins to sob and thrashes around in Tommy’s hold. 

“Shelby family, look this way!” The photographer instructs and you all oblige. The flash goes off and the crowd around begins to disperse.  A woman in a maid outfit reaches for Oliver and Tommy hands him off willingly, eager to get away from the clamoring of chatty women. You were busy adjusting Alice’s dress, setting her back down on the ground.

You look around for Oliver, noticing you couldn’t hear his cries anymore. 

“Oliver?” you call out to no avail. “Oli?” 

Clutching Alice’s hand, you ask around the room if anyone has seen a little boy. All people shake their heads, your panic grows more by the minute. 

Polly senses your agitation. “What’s wrong, dear?” 

“It’s Oliver. We just took a photo, I sat Alice down but when I looked up, he was gone.”

Polly gives you a look you know too well and your face drops. “Oh, Poll-” 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure he’s around here somewhere.” 

Polly alerts other members of the family, sending them in different directions. She then escorts you out into a more secluded area of the building. 

Ada and John join you, all with forlorn expressions. 

“Nobody has seen ‘em.” John reports, Ada backing his claim. She places a protective hand on your back, guiding you to sit on a bench. 

“Let me hold her.” she says calmly and you reluctantly let go of Alice. 

Arthur and Tommy march up to the family, fists balled and faces set like stones. 

“He was seen being taken in a car by some woman.” Arthur shares, eyes downcast. You stand up abruptly, stepping a few paces away from everyone else. Breathing becomes a difficult task and you clutch at your chest. 

The familiar sensation of rage and anguish sneaks upon you, digging its sharp claws deep into the fiber of your being. 

Tommy folds himself over you in an endeavor to console you. “This is all my fault. I will fix it. Don’t you fucking worry, I will fix this. Those fucking Italian bastards will not get away with this. It’s going to be ok, I promise.” 

You cock your head to look at your husband, the only thing visible from beneath your hat was your red brimmed eyes. A lone tear escapes and you refuse to let any others do the same. 

It was if you were possessed by the devil himself.  

You straighten yourself up, sniffling quietly. “Ada, give me my child.” 

Ada does as she is told and if you were being more observant, you might say that Ada feared you in that moment. 

You were going to see to it that whoever took your child would die by your hands. 

They weren’t going to fear you as Tommy’s wife nor as a Shelby but as a fucking mother. 

#thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #Thomas shelby x fem!reader #Thomas Shelby x you #Tommy Shelby x fem!reader #fic: The Wrath of a Mother

[chvoswxtch]

invasion of privacy

pairing: frank castle x fem!reader

summary: frank catches you with something you shouldn't have, and your world gets turned upside down in more ways than one.

warnings: swearing, lots of angst, brief mention of bomb violence

word count: 2.1k

a/n: I hope y'all enjoyed the nice & light hearted last chapter, because we are kicking up the drama from here on out. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[previous chapter] | [next chapter] | [series masterlist]

“What’s this?”

“Hm?”

You were in the process of proofreading through your latest article one more time before submitting it to Ellison, and your attention was focused solely on the mountainous layers of black text on the screen in front of you. 

“This.”

Frank’s voice rang harshly in your ears, and the shift from his previous gentle inquisitive tone jarred you to the point of whiplash and broke your concentration completely. Turning to face him in puzzlement, your breath hitched in your throat when you realized what he was holding.

The file with his name on it.

Your eyes nearly doubled in size, and they hesitantly raised to meet Frank’s. The warm melted chocolate of his irises had darkened considerably with anger, and you could see a ring of betrayal burning around his pupils.

“I don’t know.”

Frank let out a dry scoff when you blurted your words out, his jaw clenching so tight you swore you could hear the way his teeth ground together from across the room. There was a chaotic frenzy disrupting his usual calm demeanor as he looked through the contents of the file. Every single page he furiously flipped through was another drop of gasoline trickling towards an unavoidable explosion.

Whatever was inside that file, it turned Frank into a man you didn’t recognize. 

You quickly rose from your chair to take the stand in your own defense, hands outstretched in an olive branch towards him.

“Frank, I swear. I haven’t looked at it-”

“Bullshit!”

The catastrophic boom of Frank’s voice echoing around your office startled you, and the four walls suddenly felt a lot thinner with his massive fuming frame taking up a majority of the space. His reaction had anxiety racing through your bloodstream, but your anger always managed to come out on top.

“I haven’t. I didn’t go looking for that, Frank. Someone left it on my desk-”

“When.”

A sudden wash of guilt doused the unjustified irritation you felt. Frank stared you down from across the room, the flimsy material of the file succumbing to the strength of his hand, his features a concoction of fury and treachery. You had to avert your iniquitous gaze to confess.

“After the gala.”

Frank blew out a deep exhale through his nose, incredulity blowing his eyes wide open as he chuckled humorlessly.

“That was a fuckin’ month ago.”

“I never opened it. I forgot I even had it-”

“You expect me to believe that? You been carryin’ this goddamn thing in your purse every fuckin’ day for a month now, and you ain’t read it? You just forgot it was there? Just cause I don’t have a fancy ass degree don’t make me fuckin’ stupid. You fuckin’ reporters, you’ll do fuckin’ anythin’, yeah?”

Frank’s voice got louder and louder with each word, like warning claps of thunder that signaled how close you were to an inevitable downpour. He was nearly yelling by the time his heavy boots brought him right in front of you, and you found yourself staring down the eye of a violent hurricane. 

For the first time since you had met Frank, you were afraid of him. 

Even though you felt frozen in place, your fingers shook violently with trepidation at your sides. You couldn’t look away from the storm brewing hastily in his eyes. You just hoped he could see past his own wrath to find the truth in yours.

“I didn’t read it because I thought it would be an invasion of privacy.”

Frank’s eyes narrowed into accusatory slits, his nostrils flaring to accommodate his furious exhales. His voice had a sharp edge to it that cut deeper than any blade ever could.

“Invasion of privacy. That’s real goddamn rich.”

There was nothing you could do. He had all the evidence for a conviction. You had been caught at the scene of the crime, and all you could do was beg for a lenient sentence.

“Frank-”

At that moment, your door swung open to reveal a very distressed looking Billy Russo. When his lips parted to speak, he suddenly paused, as if the tension lingering thick in the room was as visible as a dense fog, and his eyes flickered between you and Frank before settling on you almost in an expression of concern.

“Sorry if this is a bad time, but we gotta talk.”

A sense of relief immediately rushed through you at Billy’s intrusion, grateful to not be alone in your small office with an incredibly pissed off Frank Castle. Billy didn’t miss the way you practically sprinted towards him without another look at Frank.

“We can talk in the conference room if you-”

“Actually, I need to talk to both of you.”

Billy looked directly over your head to stare at Frank. There was a look on his face that you didn’t know him well enough to read, but as you glanced over your shoulder at Frank, you noticed that his face was void of any anger and instead had morphed into confusion. When you looked back in Billy’s direction, he was staring down at you with clear remorse carved onto his sharp features.

“There ain’t no easy way to say this, so I’m just gonna get right to it. Homeland is pullin’ your detail.”

All of the oxygen in your lungs felt like it had been knocked completely out with that one sentence. You gaped at Billy, and his lips tugged downwards in a pitiful frown.

“I’m sorry-”

“What?”

You could hear Frank stalking over towards the both of you, and the evident skepticism and irritation that layered his gruff voice. But his and Billy’s voices sounded muffled in your ears, as if your head was submerged underwater.

“Look, I wasn’t happy about it, alright? They don’t think she’s a prime target anymore-”

“The hell she ain’t. Those assholes-”

“Found a new target. More high profile. Cause of that and the fact that they ain’t threatened her in over a month, they’re pullin’ her detail and it’s gettin’ reassigned.”

“To who, Bill?”

Billy’s eyes flickered to meet yours, and you could see the apprehension shining in them along with a sliver of guilt.

“Who is it, Billy?”

The clear defeat in your quiet voice made him sigh, and his lips parted as he stared down at you in contrite-ridden sympathy, as if he was trying to figure out how to soften the blow of whatever was about to come next. 

“Steven Price.”

Everything seemed to come to a screeching halt at that moment. While you were navigating your disbelief and confusion, Frank was battling to control his already unraveling vexation.

“What?”

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin' me.”

Billy glanced between you and Frank when you spoke at the same time. He completely ignored Frank’s outburst as he brought his hand up to gently place on your shoulder, giving it a light squeeze in a gesture of comfort. He let out another sigh of exasperation while he gazed down at you.

“Homeland wants to keep this under wraps, they ain’t even lettin’ it hit the media, but you deserve an explanation. This is off the record. Price’s office got a threat letter with demands forty eight hours ago, and yesterday a vehicle that was supposed to be takin’ him to a debate was blown up. Lucky for him, he wasn’t in it. Local news was told to report that it wasn’t a terrorist attack, just a faulty engine or somethin’. They’re tryin’ to avoid more mass panic. But, Homeland is takin’ it extra seriously-”

“Because of his family name and position.”

There was complete detachment in your voice as the reality of the situation sank in. Steven was more valuable to them. He was the one they thought was worth protecting. No one would bat an eye if a lowly journalist was murdered by a terrorist group that she antagonized. But a man that came from one of the oldest wealthy families in New York that had connections all over the world and was currently running a political campaign? That would be front page news.

“You really wanna protect that asshole?”

Billy dropped his hand from your shoulder to turn and face Frank, clearly annoyed by his inquisition.

“Of course I don’t. But Homeland-”

“Fuck Homeland. It’s your company, Bill. You can say no.”

Frank’s voice had an eerie calmness to it, but it was convoluted with reminiscent indignation and the faintest sting of an allegation.

“You think I didn’t try? I don’t think you understand the situation I’m bein’ put in right now, Frank.”

Billy and Frank appeared to be in some kind of silent standoff as they stared each other down. Billy wore his mixed emotions of annoyance and dubiety clearly on his face, and it translated into the way his fingers twitched at his sides. The slight furrow of his brows showed that he was upset by Frank’s unspoken challenge that he wasn’t fully utilizing his power like he had said. 

Frank on the other hand was completely stoic. The only giveaway he had about this whole situation at all was the glow of rage still burning in his eyes. 

“When’s this happenin’?”

The placation in Frank’s gruff voice bothered you. It sounded like he was routinely asking Billy about the weather, not when you were gonna be thrown to the wolves to fend for yourself.

Billy straightened his shoulders as he stared at Frank for a moment, pursing his lips into a thin line.

“Already has. I came to collect you and the others.”

You suddenly felt lightheaded and nauseous with the way your heart had plummeted into the pit of your stomach. 

This was really happening. 

“Listen, darlin’-”

“It’s not your fault, Billy.”

You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t look at either of them. Not that Frank probably would even look at you. He hadn’t so much as glanced at you in the slightest since Billy walked through that door. A deep sigh sounded beside you as an expensive sterling silver tie clip came into view. Billy braced his hands on your shoulders and dipped his head to catch your eye line. There was an expression of severity on his face, like you had seen when he held you in this exact same way in front of the elevators the night of the gala.

“I’m gonna figure somethin’ out for you, alright? I’m not gonna leave you hangin’. Just…sit tight. Try not to cause any trouble.”

Billy attempted to flash you a charming smile, but it didn’t even meet the edges of his lips. After giving him a small nod, he stared at you for another minute with an unreadable expression this time before giving your shoulders one final squeeze and taking a step back. He momentarily glanced over at Frank.

“I’ll be waitin’ out front.”

Billy granted you one final look of condolence before leaving you alone with Frank.

When you turned to face him, he wasn’t even looking at you. He was staring at your office door that Billy had just left through with a look on his face that you couldn’t decipher. He almost looked completely indifferent, but there was an aura of suspicion staining that callousness. You swore you heard every tick of the clock snapping clearly in your ears for the next sixty seconds before he finally shifted his attention to you.

Frank’s face was completely blank. There wasn’t a shade of an emotion that you could detect. His features weren’t twisted up in any kind of clues. He looked just as impassive as he had the first day that you had met him. Seeing him revert to that state after months of progression in your complicated relationship hurt worse than any heartbreak you had ever experienced. 

He was staring at you like you were a stranger on the street.

Frank wordlessly folded up the file and stuffed it into his jacket pocket, his vacant eyes staring into your pleading gaze. At this point, you wished he would go back to yelling at you. You would take something, anything other than this tortuous silent treatment.

He wouldn’t actually leave you like that, would he? He said he wouldn’t. He swore he wouldn’t. Frank would always be there for you, to keep you safe. That’s what he had promised. 

Right?

You waited for him to say something. You stared at him in desperate expectancy for him to do something to fix this nightmare. You held your breath for him to make the same promise that Billy had, to figure something out.

But as quietly as Frank had come into your life, he was now slipping out silently.

And just like that, he was gone.

tags: @hopeful-evermore @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @ferns-fics @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed@fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @yeah3459 @collaps3r @polskiperson @imperihoe

#frank castle #billy russo #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x reader #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle fic #bodyguard!frank castle series #bodyguard!frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher fic #the punisher series

[dwightschrute11]

Character Sheet - Calypso

General Information

Full name: Calypso Salutations

Nicknames: Cal, Callie, The new fifth year 

Pronouns: She/her

Date of Birth: May 1st, 1875

Zodiac Sign: Taurus 

Personality Type: ENFP-T

Alignment: chaotic good

Nationality: British 

House: Ravenclaw

Wand: Dragon Heartstring, oak wood, slightly springy

Patronus: Nebelung cat (curiosity and kindness)

Boggart: her fathers bloated corpse shameful of Calypso

Amortentia: fresh rain, the black lake, earthy dirt, and apples

Physical Appearance 

Hair color and style: blondish white, most often seen down in loose curls. 

Eye color: Fern green 

Skin tone: almond with warm undertones and complexion 

Height: 5’7

Weight: 131 pounds 

Clothing style: loose, almost never wears her vest over her blouse; prefers longish skirts and her blouse sleeves pushed up, and usually is either wearing Mary Jane’s or traveling boots

Accessories: a locket given to her by her father before he passed

Details: freckles along her cheek bones and nose, as well as her upper arms and shoulders. Has an ancient magic scar along her right cheek extending slightly into the upper part of her neck. 

Personality 

Positive traits: reliable, witty, strong, helpful, relatively friendly, caring, loyal, open minded, determined 

Negative Traits: stubborn, competitive, reserved,can be sarcastic, secretive (most of the time), reckless

Strengths: strong in the face of danger and would sacrifice herself for others (which can sometimes be a bad thing), always looking to help others

Weaknesses: bottles up emotions and struggles letting people in to her real self (including her inner demons), has anxiety, nearing the end of fifth year she commonly feels numb or overwhelmed

Likes: flying / quidditch, relaxing near the lake, gardening, exploring, reading, watching performances 

Dislikes: condescending or overly cocky people, those who hurt her loved ones, dugbogs, pumpkin juice, 

Fears: fear of abandonment, not being good enough, her being the cause of pain 

Goals: to be free, to find true happiness, to cure Anne, to see her mother smile

Backstory

Calypso was born in a small cottage in London, Cornwall to Clementine and Oliver Salutations, who were both muggles—but her father was a man who always believed in some sort of magic, if in the trees or in a faraway land, if a presence in every nook and cranny or even just an idea. Her mother, a woman bound by rules who wasn’t the type to dream, always brushed away her husband’s ideas, and tended to get mad when ever he spouted those ideas to Cal. Cal herself wasn’t the most certain, but as a child, she was in a state of content and happiness as long as she was with her father—but tragedy struck the Salutations home when her father mysteriously drowned in the ocean, his bloated body found by young Calypso a day after his disappearance. Traumatized and heartbroken, Calypso lost that nostalgic feeling of happiness quickly, the wound deepening even more when her mother began to develop Alzheimer’s. she forgot Calypsos face, her smile, her hand—she was a husk of her former self, leaving Calypso to take care of her for many years. She received the basic school learning as a child, but a year after her father died, they ran out of money to continue affording school. She taught herself using the books she had at home and those she borrowed, and often ridiculed herself  in the mirror. She barely ate, still haunted by her mother’s screams and father’s bloated body, and became bony as the years went on. It was only when she got her Hogwarts acceptance later that, for once, she felt hopeful, free—excited. She asked an old family friends to take care of her mother before being whisked  off to Hogwarts by Professor Fig..blissfully unaware of the powerful tendrils of ancient magic running through her blood. 

Relationships

Love interest: (I don’t know yet 😭) 

Good friends: Sebastian Sallow, Ominis Gaunt, Natsai Onai, Poppy sweeting, Samantha Dale, Garreth Weasley , Imelda Reyes 

People she dislikes: Leander Prewett, Nerida Roberts, Grace Pinch-Smedley

Pets: Highwing, vivarium creatures, one cat (later) 

Thanks to @masqueradereveler21 for letting me use the questions they used for their own character sheet!

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanart #hogwarts legacy oc #oc art #digital art #hogwarts legacy characters #character sheet #character art #original character #character illustration

[pencerism]

hi um hi im kinda new here

i really like bunnies yes heres my son

just LOOK at him hes so fluffy and soft and scrungly and squishy his nose is so huge

his name is olive say hi olive

-

-

Edit: Tumblr is not letting me post so I'm going to add this here.

On February 3rd, Olive crossed the rainbow bridge. It has been such a rough time without him, and every day has felt much more lonely and quiet without him. Olive was a lovely little man. The most chaotic, funny, yet sweetest boy ever. He was the light of my life. I've been in a deep phase of grieving since he passed, and it is so hard to get out of. Olive was, and is still, so very loved by everyone who knew him.

I miss you so much. It was such an amazing adventure with you. May you rest in peace, Olive.

#bunblr #bunny #rabbit #scrungly #he really likes carrots too #animals #fluffy boy

[my-heart-of-heart]

Another interesting point abt this episode I think is how wide a range of fears were involved? Like ik ik the classifications are arbitrary really but like I can pick out specific points that seem to reference almost every one, or at least more than previous cases had

Idk what the implications might be but it just caught my eye considering who realized all the fears were so connected they needed to be brought into the world as one and who may or may not be narrating this particular case…

(List w/ spoilers below)

Behold my list:

Dark: dark forest, unknown

Desolation: man in the woods has burnt meat, fire in the music hall that ends the performance

End: individual deaths, killing for the violin

Extinction: large scale massacre in the music hall

Eye: man in the woods compels narrator to give his life story, man in the audience dressed in green eats his son’s eyes

Flesh: descriptions of the bloody fingers and gore

Hunt: the “primal fear” when Oliver is killed, carriage driver sees narrator as a threat and fights back in self defense, talk of “hunger” and “appetite” in regard to the violin

Lonely: walking alone in the dark forest, targeting people that won’t be missed

Slaughter: Oliver hears imaginary music before dying (like the piper ep?), ofc all the general violence and killing

Spiral: Oliver going crazy in the carriage, random chaotic element of luck discussed

Stranger: never asked the man’s name, uncanny descriptions of the judges, woman in the music hall ripping off a man’s skin

Web: the complex music notes, the seeming coincidences that led to him getting the violin in the woods

(The only ones I can’t think of something significant for are the buried, the corruption, and the vast, but lmk)

#if this were any other fandom I’d feel like I’m reading too much into it #but it’s magnus so #tmagp 4 #tmagp #tmagp spoilers #the magnus protocol #the magnus archives #tma #tma spoilers #jonah magnus #augustus tmagp #tmagp theory

[pixelated-mechanisms-chaos]

Below is a very important yet heavy update on me and how it affects the game's (Downtime) progress.

You have no obligation to read this, but it's appreciated if you do.

Im not sure how to explain in nicely, so i won't.

I might lose my place to live due to the people i live with, family, just not being able to manage how they should, something i realized due to therapy and outside opinions from multiple people.

Im so tired to keep giving what i have just so we can survive and ive been doing it for 4 years maybe? I am the youngest of us 3, i just turned 18 last year - god damn it! I shouldn't have to worry about what they mess up- its not my fault, and i just have to DEAL with their mistakes.

Ive been told the power might get cut too due to their lack of ability to manage, so i most probably will move out with my therapist's help if i can, which i believe will be extremely difficult and draining but a bit easier with said therapist's help and ultimately better in the long run, even if i gaslight myself into thinking the situation isn't as bad.

Due to everything said above, i decided to put this project on hold until im secure again. until i can focus on other things than only survival.

I hate to even put this in a post but i do feel like its necessary. I have a KO-FI. No one is obligated to donate, i just wanted to mention it in case someone wants to support me in one way or another and I want to mention that the people i live with are not aware of me having KO-FI, redbubble or paypal, so the money is just mine alone.

That's all for now, i might post updates if im able to, but for today? I just want to sleep and rest and worry about more of this tomorrow. Thank you for reading and i hope you have a good day or nights rest despite this♡

-Oliver

#the mechanisms games #@pixelated mechanisms chaos #game making #progress #downtime #personal update #mental health #ko fi

[piece-of-hweat]

So. About Danny Phantom and Underworld Office...

Quick break from my Little Nightmares brain for a sec, I wanna talk about stupid ghost creatures.

Recently, I rediscovered a whole ass discord thread I made a year ago, which was literally filled with Charlie in Underworld/Underworld Office stuff. What is Charlie in Underworld and Underworld Office? Well, the first novel (Underworld Office) is a visual/digital novel about a kid named Eugene who stumbles upon the ghost realm. They are also adopted into a found-ghost-office-family. Important note: Eugene's soul can exit their body while they rest. So basically, going ghost, but not really. (the second thing/sequel just follows the redemption arc of an antagonist, Charlie, from the first game)

Now. Danny Phantom. A couple of months ago, my friend introduced me to the show as well as the Phandom, and gotta say. It's pretty cool. Danny Phantom is a cartoon series about a lil silly dude named Danny Fenton. He is half ghost. Because of his half-ghost-ness, he can "go ghost". This is where he turns into a ghost and kicks ghost-ass.

Alright, let's regroup. Now that you know a bit about both fandoms, remember that note from earlier saying that Eugene can "go ghost"? Yea. See where I'm going with this?

My proposal, fellow DP and/or CIU/UWO fans, is to make a crossover AU. Why? Because I need it. I need these two idiots to bond over the fact that they both have connections to ghosts and how, in a way, they're both half-ghosts.

What is the plot/storyline? No fuckin clue All I have is:

Danny's been Danny Phantom for a while now

Eugene moves into Amity Park. Danny, honestly, can't really give two shits about that.

One day, Eugene and Danny meet, they become friends and bond over the fact that they're both dead and alive.

Danny meets the Office Ghosts and they both become allies or smth (tbf, they both fight monsters/bad ghosts)

Both Danny and the Office have a common goal (perhaps a conflict they both want to solve? Maybe)

Now, as for lil stupid notes:

Danny is creeped out by Boss and River. (Boss is cold and Danny feels like Boss would just casually murder him if he looked away for 0.001 seconds. River is just chaotic in a "high-aunt" way. The shit she does probably scares Danny in a "BRO WTF" way)

Eugene and Danny, unlike the other ghosts, are more warmer-coloured and less monotone.

Charlie will spit on Danny's grave and Danny would do the same. They'd probably hate each other's guts in a sibling way.

Luke, Oliver and Joy would probably meet Sam and Tucker. (Tucker and Oliver would honestly be besties ngl. Joy and Sam can both judge each other silently over a cup of coffee)

Alright, that's all I have to offer. Hope you'll uh, consider this possible AU. Um. Have a nice day or night. Don't turn into a half ghost. Or do, I don't know man--

#danny phantom crossover #dp crossover #danny phantom #danny fenton #charlie in underworld #underworld office #crossover au idea #eugene uwo #*simply explodes* #I am also really mentally stable if you couldn't tell from my endless amounts of AU ideas #hweat rambles

[rvrend]

MUSE INFO SHEET.

BASICS.

name. rodney putty alias. reverend putty. rod. revs. the good reverend. dad. gender. cis man age. mid fifties - early sixties species. human zodiac. aquarius.    aries.    cancer.    capricorn.    gemini.    leo.    libra.    pisces.    sagittarius.    scorpio.    taurus.    virgo.    unknown. abilities / talents. not many. has won various eating contests ( and is proud of it. ) coming up with ' comedy ' and sermons. good at self pleasure i suppose.

PERSONAL.

alignment. lawful.    neutral.    chaotic.    good.    neutral.    evil. religion. protestant christian. sins. envy.    greed.    gluttony.    lust.    pride.    sloth.    wrath. virtues. charity.    chastity.    diligence.    humility.    justice.    kindness.    patience. languages. english family. stephanie ( daughter, ) orel ( unofficial adopted son ) friends. noellene ( love interest, ) not many others sexual orientation. heterosexual.    bisexual.    pansexual.    homosexual.    demisexual .    asexual.    unsure.    questioning.    other relationship status. single.    dating.    married.    widowed.    open relationship.    other. libido. sex god.    very high.    high .    average.    low.    very low.    non-existent.

PHYSICAL.

build. twig.    bony.    slender.    average.    athletic.    curvy.    chubby.    obese. hair. white.    blonde.    brunette.    red.    black. grey. other. eyes. brown.    blue.    green.    black.    other. skin. pale.    fair.    olive.    light brown.    brown.    very brown.    other. height. under 3 foot.    3-4 foot.    4-5 foot.    5-6 foot.    6-7 foot.    above 7 foot weight. under 100 pounds.    100-150 pounds.    150-200 pounds.    200-250 pounds.    above 250 pounds scars. various scars from over the years. facial features. wide nose. bald aside of the sides of his head. eyebags. tattoos. none

CHOOSE.

dogs or cats ? cats birds or hamsters ? birds red or blue ? blue yellow or green ? green black or white ? white coffee or tea ? coffee ice cream or cake ? cake, we love a lactose intolerant king fruits or vegetables ? vegetables, but only by a margin sandwich or soup ? soup magic or melee ? melee sword or bow ? fists summer or winter ? summer spring or autumn ? spring the past or the future ? the past

tagged. stole it ! tagging. @dollene, @crackinginventor and steal it !

#HC. #DASH. #suggestive / #I GUESS 😭😭 #one of his only talents..mFSDM

[crackinginventor]

  MUSE SHEET . /

BASICS.

name. Wallace Wallis alias. Wallace / Mr. Wallis gender. cis man age.  mid 40s species. human zodiac. aquarius.    aries.    cancer.    capricorn.    gemini.    leo.    libra.    pisces.    sagittarius.    scorpio.    taurus.    virgo.    unknown .abilities / talents. he's an inventor !

PERSONAL.

alignment. lawful.    neutral.    chaotic.    good.    neutral.    evil. religion. none .sins. envy.    greed.    gluttony.    lust.    pride.    sloth.    wrath. virtues. charity.    chastity.    diligence.    humility.    justice.    kindness.    patience. languages. english family. gromit , shaun & fluffles sexual orientation. heterosexual.    bisexual (preference for women).    pansexual.    homosexual.    demisexual .    asexual.    unsure.    questioning.    other relationship status. single.    dating.    married.    widowed.    open relationship.    other. libido. sex god.    very high.    high .    average.    low.    very low.    non-existent.

PHYSICAL.

build. twig.    bony.    slender.    average.    athletic.    curvy.    chubby.    obese. hair. white.    blonde.    brunette.    red(formerly).    black. grey. other. eyes. brown.    blue.    green.    black.    other. skin. pale.    fair.    olive.    light brown.    brown.    very brown.    other. height. under 3 foot.    3-4 foot.    4-5 foot.    5-6 foot.    6-7 foot.    above 7 foot weight. under 100 pounds.    100-150 pounds.    150-200 pounds.    200-250 pounds.    above 250 pounds scars. a few from failed experiments facial features. bald ! bald ! bald ! MY EYES ! tattoos. none

CHOOSE.

dogs or cats ?dogs !!! birds or hamsters ? hamsters ! red or blue ? blue yellow or green ? green black or white ? white coffee or tea ? TEA! ice cream or cake ? cake, fruits or vegetables ? vegetables, only when it's near a full moon sandwich or soup ? sandwich magic or melee ? magic sword or bow ? gettin a bit violent now innit ? summer or winter ? summer spring or autumn ? spring the past or the future ? the past

tagged. @rvrend !tagging. whoever !

#𝐖 .┆ 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 / 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 . ϟ #ϟ ┆ 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭'𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐦 / 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 ! . #ϟ ┆𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 / 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 . #only under read more because the libido section tm #see i love my found family because sometimes they tag me in stuff like this where i have to contemplate things i'd never think #i'd never have to think about ever #like wallace's libido? help ? never crossed my mind but i'm cackling i love you guys

[chaoticmannamedoliver]

Fuck you and fuck your train but spice it up today.

#the mechanisms #the mechs #@chaotic man named oliver #gay immortal space pirate band my beloved<3 #them🧡 #fuck you and fuck your train friday

[gcldenblades]

Intro

hear ye hear ye — the riverlands welcomes prince drystan baratheon of king’s landing. king matthos baratheon is glad that the twenty - four year old appears to be winsome and he shall overlook that it’s said they are also deceitful, as long as they are glad to celebrate peace in the seven kingdoms. fortunately for them, matthos remains oblivious that they are happy with his reign.

i. background.

full name: drystan baratheon

commonly goes by: drys

known as: the golden stag

official title: heir prince of the seven kingdoms

age: twenty four.

gender + pronouns: cis man + he/him.

orientation: homosexual.

allegiance: himself, his younger siblings

ii. appearance.

faceclaim: nicholas galitzine.

eye color: hazel with golden specs

hair color: golden brown

remarkable markings: none his skin is flawless

dominant hand: ambidextrous

height: 6'0"

build: lean and muscular, like a dancer.

iii. personality.

virtues: patience

vices: greed, lust

weapon of choice: spear, bow and arrow

moral alignment: chaotic neutral

inspired by: oliver quick (saltburn), finnick odair (hunger games), achilles (song of achilles), george villiers (mary & george)

iv. relationships.

parents: mathos baratheon + joanna lannister.

siblings: cassion baratheon (half brother) , tbd baratheon (half sister) , tbd baratheon (half sister) , alyssa baratheon (sister), lorent baratheon (half brother)

relationship status: single

children: n/a

v. biography.

trigger warning :

destined for royalty from his first breath, drystan’s birthright differed from that of his older half siblings. born in the wake of their father’s triumphant conquest of the seven kingdoms, drystan’s life was steeped in the privileges of a preordained prince. he knew no bounds to his desires, as the word ‘no’ was scarcely part of his vocabulary.

raised admist the oppulence of the royal court, drystan was nurtured by the finest tutors and instructors the realm had to offer. this upbringing not only honed his intellect and skills but also installed in him a profound understanding of his royal status. from a tender age he basked in the adoration and love showered upon him by those within and beyond the palace walls.

inheriting the legacy of house baratheon, drystan emerged as a warrior of considerable skill. lacking the towering frame and brute strength his father was famous for, drystan carved his own path in the art of war. where the warhammer felt unwieldy in his less imposing stature, he found his true calling in the spear, as well as the bow and arrow.

his greatest assets in battle lay in his extraordinary agility. his movements were a fluid, mesmerizing display, blending the lethality of combat with the grace of a dancer. where others relied on sheer force, drystan triumphed through speed and finesse.

bearing the legacy of his lannister heritage, drystan developed into a magnetic figure within the intricate web of court life. he inherited not just the lannister’s famed golden hair, but also their notorious cunning.

in the grand halls and shadowy corridors of power, drystan moved with a natural ease, his charm as disarming as it was strategic. he possessed the uncanny ability to decipher the underlying currents of court politics, reading situations and people with a perceptive eye.

renowned throughout the seven kingdoms for his melodious voice, his singing could captivate a room, turning the coldest hearts and softening the sternest minds. equally impressive were his talents in dance. he moved with an effortless grace that could make even the most elaborate court dances seem like simple steps.

at the age of fifteen, drystan's curiosity was sparked by tales of a mysterious witch who occasionally visited king's landing. eager to meet her, he discovered that her claims of 'premonitions' held little truth. however, while concealed in the shadows during one of her conversations, he overheard her discussing an alchemical spell with her sister. this encounter ignited his fascination with the arcane arts of alchemy.

driven by his newfound interest, drystan journeyed across the narrow sea to essos, following leads he believed would yield significant discoveries. his quest led him to qarth, home to a secretive guild of alchemists. initially, the alchemists were wary of sharing their knowledge with a foreigner, but drystan earned their trust through a blend of respect, cunning, and skilled diplomacy.

he proposes a deal that offers mutual benefits: he will fund the alchemists and provide them a haven in westeros where they can practice and expand their knowledge freely, away from any rivals or threats in qarth. in exchange, they will serve him as his private guild of alchemists, committing their expertise to his endeavors, including defense, medicine, and other innovative uses of alchemy.

a select few alchemists accompanied drystan back to westeros, disguised as musicians and artists to avoid drawing attention to their true purpose. he has established a secure location for them to develop their practices and is working diligently to bring the guild to its full potential.

drystan is determined to ascend to the iron throne. in the intricate realm of westeros, where alligances shift like sands and the power of words often eclipses that of swords, drystan baratheon is not just a prince in name - he is a master of the delicate balance between overt power and subtle influence.

PLOTS

-friends/allies in court

-betrothal prospects

-enemies

#the golden stag ~ drystan baratheon #intro post #say hi to my golden child

[small-artist-oc-showdown]

It’s a Tumblr tournament, of course we have to have a vampire! And that vampire is @cringedaddy’s JASPER ALESON!! He goes by he/him!

Oh, but it looks like Oliver and Gwennie’s submission wasn’t the only long one! Read more about Jasper under the cut!

Halloween is coming up, so it makes sense to have a scary monster in the competition! ...Or maybe he’s just stupid. Okay he’s just stupid. The creator says so! Speaking of...

“Jasper was born into a rich merchant family, you wouldn't know that unless he told you though. Why? Because he has been busy running around chasing after supernatural anomalies since he was 19, much against his parent's wishes. Chaotic stupid in an intellectual way, Jasper creates about 25% of his own problems and just finds himself in the other 75%... usually surviving by hiding and hoping for the best. He's hopelessly attached to his journals in which he keeps furious notes, often encoded in ways that protect him as much as anyone else who might try and read them. He wasn't always a vampire btw, his vampire love interest turned him while he was afraid he was going to die, and they were basically married from that point forward.”

Stupid AND obsessive! Why should you vote for him?

“Jasper is my oldest OC and would be going to second grade this year if his age reflected that (have fun learning about volcanoes in school Jaspie ♡)! He is a manic pixie dream boy who is always surviving through some of the most stupid turns of luck, and he knows it. I think many can relate his stupid paranormal investigation / cryptozoology pipedream, and I cheer for him every day that he ended up getting his childhood wish of being a vampire. 

I'm hyping him up a lot, but please keep in mind... Despite him being a savant at cryptography and solving intricate puzzles, he is a chronic idiot (and this is one of my favorite things about him!) List of stupid shit he has done to date: 

- Infodumped about the paranormal to complete strangers trapped with him in a carriage for like. 2 hours. And then was upset that they were annoyed with him. 

- Was all "I can change him" about one of the antagonist cult leaders that he met 1 time and only had bad vibes 

-- proceeded not to recognize this cult leader when he was wearing a wig and a dress and joined the party under a different name. 

- Assumed his ex-girlfriend being possessed by a demon was her way of breaking up with him. 

- Carried like 17 mason jars (mostly filled with rocks, dirt, and water) in his bag for like. 2 whole campaigns. 

- Read a cult book, took massive psychic damage, then took it anyways when the party wasn't looking with the intent of reading it again to try and learn more. 

- Had to sit out an entire boss battle because all he could do at the time was punch things and they were fighting a sea creature. 

- Thought that shutting a door in a vampire inn would keep the vampires out. 

- Survived the final boss battle of the first campaign because he was 1 hit KO'd on the first round and forgotten about. 

- Changed his last name to the vampire that turned him immediately after returning to life: surprising him because Jasper hadn't really seemed to return his courtship. They are married happily now. 

Anyways you should vote for him mainly bc he is a pathetic soaked bat of a man and I think it would be funny for him to do well in something -- he'd be kicking screaming and crying from being known. His paranoia knows no bounds, and I won't ever let it stop. KNOW HIM.”

#small artist oc showdown #intros #blood #blood tw #tw blood

[mi6-cafe]

2023 Fest Masterposts

We know the end of fest can be chaotic and you may have missed some of your fellow competitor’s creations, so here is the complete listing of all the fancreations from 007 fest. (Check out previous year’s here too)

Also, I couldn't match all of you to the name you signed up with, so if you notice your handle on here twice, please let us know.

00furby

3NIGM4

a-forger-and-a-point-man

Ani

Anyawen

APrettySpy

AsheT

Ato

azure

Bishybarnaby

Bluebellofbakerstreet

Boffin

Breval

Castillon02

Cosmo

Crewman-penelope

dantes

Dart

Dassandre/Vienno

David Tenninch

DoubleOh7Q

Eleanor

Elsewheregremlin

Emerald-Truth

Emilia Silverova

Foxy

Gingerfan

Hammerbacks

Hypatia

i-eat-your-pancakes

IgnacioSanchez1701

kaijudirector

kittenkin

Kmkatt_avenger

Lapsang-and-earlgrey

Lasika

Le Rouge et le Noir

Light-of-luinil

luminiferocity

Mely

Merc

Mertens

mudpuddless

naq

notesofbergamot

OldestCharm

Oliver Mansfield

PrismaticBell

Ruggsie

samanthahirr

Samisams-fluffadise

scarytheory

Seventh-raven

SolarMorrigan

SpiritofCamelot

Sven

thestalwartheart

VerdigrisSoup

womble

If your masterpost is not on this list, please reply to the post and it will be edited.

#007 fest 2023 #007 fest masterpost #007 fest admin

[rhotanored]

Character Summary: Arym pyr Ord

alias/nicknames: Art, Rabbit, Grandpa

gender: more or less male

age: looks around 30

zodiac: ----

abilities  + talents:

a recklessly talented driver with a penchant for high speeds and stunts that definitely should have gotten him killed by now

a capable engineer focused in communication devices

machina technician/mechanic focused in vehicles (and bullshitting his way through juryrigging to Make Things Work(tm))

capable sniper, decent melee combatant (gunblades, H2H)

alignment: lawful / neutral / chaotic / good / neutral / evil / true

sins: envy / greed / gluttony / lust / pride / sloth / wrath

virtues: charity / chastity / diligence / humility / justice / kindness / patience

languages: Fluent in common and Garlean, a hodgepodge of words, phrases and basic understanding of languages out of Landis, Dalmasca and Bozja

family: none by blood that he can presently remember

friends: Arym is difficult to befriend through all the jagged edges of his personality, but beneath that is a man desperate for camaraderie and understanding, both of which he accidentally stumbled into with Sergius. They share a penchant for dry, black humor and past experiences that leave them both with near-uncomfortable common ground. Arym is flighty and skittish, but Sergius has managed to be an anchor he can't (and doesn't want to) cast off. While he'd like to think he's taken III Squad (comprised of Max Sawyer, Victoria Castellus and Laelia Belisar) under his wing, it's more like the other way around. They gave him a reason to keep fighting, but now that he's pursuing a more reckless path, he's putting distance between them.

sexuality: heterosexual / bisexual / pansexual / homosexual / demisexual / asexual / unsure / other

relationship: single / partnered / married / widowed / open relationship / divorced / not ready for dating yet / it’s complicated

libido: sex god / very high / high / average / low / very low / non-existent / who knows

build: slender / average / athletic / muscular / curvy / other (partial machina)

hair: white / blonde / brunette / red / black

eyes: brown / blue / gray / green / black / other (orange LEDs baybee)

skin: pale / fair / olive / light brown / brown / dark / other (gray)

height: 6'1"

scars: so many. a lot of burn scars leftover from the accident, surgical scars from where he's had various organs replaced and/or augmented, gunshot wounds, puncture wounds, lacerations, you name it he's nearly died from it

dogs or cats || birds or bugs || snakes or spiders || coffee or tea || ice cream or cake || fruits or vegetables || sandwich or soup || magic or melee || sword shield dagger or bow gun|| summer or winter || spring or autumn || past or future present

A few songs that remind you of them:

Sintesis - Otrebor

The Mission - The Great Wight Dread, Computerbandit

Drive It Like You Stole It - The Glitch Mob

The Driver - Ollie Wride

Get no pleasure from the pressure, all that you feed To walk like every modern man I see you, filling up your lungs like ammunition to a gun You take a swing but you can't take me down

Keep Running - Geographer

first they tell you to learn then tell you you’re wrong then they tell you to live a lie if you wanna live at all they take away your reason then they take you for a fool they say there’s no point leaving now even if you could I know that you’ll carry I know that you’ll carry me home baby it’s scary but I don’t think that’s where we belong

Vignette - Koethe

Sometimes I lie awake and think of what I’ve done Am I asleep I can’t believe that I’m the only one Sometimes I lie awake and think of what I’ve said Am I asleep I can’t believe that its all in my head Ive begun to think I’m every thing but starting to forget I cant recall my footing it’s easier to pretend Somewhere in the vignette

This Ain't No Hymn - Saint Saviour

So let me be, so let me be, so let me be So let me be I'll follow someone that I can see I'll worship someone that I can be

'Cause it depends on you and you alone Whether you do, whether you don't Don't believe in more than flesh and bone Grab on and hold, grab on and hold

Tagged by: @sergiusreports

Tagging:​ @snowbird-down, @norhimorovine, @autochthonousone, @endangered-liaison, @high-and-away (I dunno who's been tagged already aAAAAA)

#arym pyr ord #lmao arym isn't even on this blog yet #but i haven't finished his #so HERE WE GO